#( b UT IT WAS SO MUCH FUN )

[deus-ex-mona]

s o b b i n g

[hiyaitssans]

been making this strawberry lemonade concentrate n ive squeezed TWO BAGS OF LEMONS my hands were shaking so bad i couldnt hold the strainer steady CANT EVEN HOLD MY PHONE SUPER STEADY EITHERRRRR

[upsidedowngrass]

eobs and wails bc i rly like crossovers but theres like . hardly any for one, which means i either just have No Crossovers or i make them myself

[joelhoney]

#1 girl

pairing: dbf joel miller x afab/sorority sister reader

kenny here... tumblr Blipped me u guys. but i loved this too much to let it waste into nothingness. so here we go again take two using an ancient blog i never even used (from 2016 mind u...) enjoy!

You're too wrapped up in sorority duties to remember somebody's supposed to pick you up and drive you home tonight. One pissed-off Joel, curious conversation, and cowboy hat later, your evening takes an unexpected turn.

warnings: no outbreak au, dbf!joel, self gratuitous age gap (21/51), shy reader w/ some bursts of confidence, blowjob (m receiving), handjob (f receiving), dirty talk, praise, degradation too..., overuse of pet names... must b all

Of all the ways you imagined spending your fifth day of spring break, the last was in your dad’s best friend’s pickup truck with lame rock playing dryly through the console radio. In fact, last is generous—the idea itself had never even been conjured in your head.

The reason why is because you and your dad’s best friend—Mr. Miller—don’t typically interact beyond the confines of dinners, mandatory laughter, and the occasional one-on-one about something like boys in college, or classes in college, or the drive to college. Nothing much had changed when you moved the brief drive away to UT Austin, and between you everything’s remained the same, even now in your senior year.

For instance, a break—summer, spring, winter—would begin with your parents picking you up and shuttling off to the house, and end with an affair of the similar sort. Quickly into your first year, though, you learned to always insist you either leave school late or leave home early for spring break to take advantage of campus parties, especially because your senior year had cemented your shiny new position as President of Alpha Phi.

Any officer position in a sorority already came with a good deal of responsibility, let alone the presidency; and in addition to having recently turned twenty-one, the role required you to exhaust every drop of social battery, every ounce of skill you had at party hosting and alcohol obtaining without the use of a flimsy fake.

The eliminated nerves of using fakes made you much less nervous during parties, which often led to you letting more loose than usual. This party you’re in was thrown by some frat on campus, but this house is your last place of four; first two pregames, then a bar, then here. At some point at the bar your sisters had surprised you with a fun gift for the night, so you’re also wearing a pink sash, onto which rhinestones spelling out #1 Girl have been glued with precision.

Already you’re dizzy, wiping clammy fingers on the stiff cotton of your tight tank top, the curve of your tits spilling over the Alpha Phi logo. It’s small on you, the hem high above your navel and higher above the loose, low hem of your denim shorts. If they fell low enough on your hips, the high arch of your pink thong would’ve shown itself—maybe it did at some point, you’re too loopy to care.

“Oh, no,” you’re saying, but you can barely hear yourself over the rap song playing and everyone singing along, “no, I hate Jäger.” You’re shaking your head at your best friend and Vice President, Lia, who raises two handfuls of the opaque liquid. She shakes her head, sets them down on the table you’re leaning against.

“Lighten up, duuude. We’re taking them to celebrate your first and last spring break as President.”

“Aw, fine,” you muse loudly, giving in. “Only this once.” Out of obligation and genuine gratitude, you allow yourself to stomach your least favorite drink—then another, and another, a bit of each shot dribbling down the column of your throat and stickily onto your chest.

Lia snaps at the red bra strap that peeks out of your tank strap, laughing. “Settle down, Prez.” A partygoer, rowdy as they come, roughly deposits a sweaty cowboy hat onto your head and you yelp in surprise, steadying it. Whoever gave this, I’m keeping it! you holler, laughing as you feed yourself a shot of something your tongue enjoys more.

Absolut crowds the inside of your mouth when you take it back, interrupted only when a hand comes to shake at your shoulder. In your rush to turn, you nearly hit them with your hat.

It’s Cole, a good friend and member of the frat whose house you’re currently getting tipsy in. His eyes are rimmed and the whole air of him smells like weed. He offers one greeting: “Yo.” His eyes slide down to your chest, where your tugged-down tank has exposed a few inches of your red bra’s lacy cups.

“Hey,” you say, the syllable sounding sticky. “Up here, you ass. Jägerbomb?” You offer a smile.

“‘M a’ight. Listen, some…” He shakes his head, like he’s trying to place what he’s here to tell you. Then he nods, having remembered—“Right. Some old guy’s out front asking for you.”

“Asking for me? Old… guy?” Your eyebrows scrunch together, mind foggy. “My dad?” Shit. You’d completely forgotten they’d be picking you up today or tomorrow. Maybe they’d been waiting for hours—it’s one-thirty, the clock on the living room mantel reads. 

“Nah, man, not your dad, this guy’s… he’s got a red pickup truck, um, he’s, like, he’s old looking.” He raises a hand above his own head. “Tall.” His voice is drawly with the weed high, but as soon as he said red pickup, you knew exactly who he was talking about. One look at your phone confirms it—five missed calls and a message, 11PM, sent by your dad: Joel’s in the area for work. He’s going out with buddies but can swing by the house to pick you up. I’m giving him your #.

“Fuck.” You blink. “Fuck! I gotta go.” 

You never usually have to pack shit to go home, considering the drive isn’t too far. Briefly you consider making a detour to collect things from your sorority house, but you decide to sacrifice the laptop and the few important chargers. So, armed with only your phone, you wrench your way out of the crowd, a few goodbyes thrown in your direction and back.

The front door is open so the partygoers spill onto the front yard, intermittent conversation littering the area. Along the pavement, frat guys’ Civics and and Priuses are parked beside an old looking red pickup truck; leaned against it is—

“Mr. Miller,” you blurt out when you’re closer to him, voice steady (your mind is just as well, shocked back to lucidity from his presence). “I’m sorry. I had no idea you’d be picking me up today—tonight—” You heave a sigh, apologetic, refusing to meet his eyes. “Sorry.”

His arms are crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up to his elbows. Even from a few feet away you can make out the shape, the lines of muscle on his forearms. He looks tired, moody—more than usual—and your heart pangs with guilt at the idea that you could be the reason behind it. But despite your best—really, your best—efforts, your stomach still swoops the same way it did when you were seventeen and naive, enough to find next-door-neighbor Mr. Miller extremely handsome. Hell, extremely hot.

It didn’t make sense. You’d suspected your little crush would be that—an adolescent, childish thing, evaporating more and more into thin air with every drive made to campus. But he never stopped being handsome, never stopped his corny jokes and the pet names that got you warm every time you visited over break. You had plenty of eye candy on campus, athletes and gamers alike, and yes you’d been picky, but had managed to sleep with a select few—despite all of it, only the remnants of your fantasies of Mr. Miller satiated you when your hand creeps into the apex of your thighs late at night, lust wrangling shame into silence for a few minutes.

You blink and the train of thought is over—the real thing is here, eyebrows set low, mouth frowning.

“Kiddo,” he starts, his voice thin with exhaustion, “look, I’ve done my share of… drinkin’, and that. I get it. But you gotta…” He clicks his tongue, eyes looking your outfit up and down. “You gotta let me know, let your parents know, where you are, and if you’re okay. ‘Cause I really did not want to spend tonight drivin’ from house to bar, to bar to house, feelin’ like I was lookin’ all over Austin for you.”

“I know,” you supply quickly, nodding. Your hands, fidgety, find purchase on the fibres of the silk sash strung along your figure. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Miller. I didn’t check my phone the entire evening, and—”

“It’s okay.” He says, nonchalant, lifting himself off the side of the car to walk to the drivers’ side. Gruffly, he adds, “Car.”

You’re quick to tug the door open, settling yourself on the passenger seat and breathing nervously. Your legs are littered with body glitter, your chest with the tack of Jäger. You spot him outside, his walk slow. He’s annoyed—rightfully so—stopping just shy of the door to pinch at the bridge of his nose, his lips miming a slow exhale. When he finally wrangles himself to sit, it’s quiet for a minute, then another.

“Y’have fun?” He starts the car, thrumming it to life. You nod, then offer a verbal answer—yeah. He nods, wiping a palm over his face. “What were you up to?” 

“I, um… I organized a pregame for my sorority.” You toy with the rogue strands of denim of your shorts. “We went to a bar, after… then another… then, well.” You gulp. “Here.” The last question escapes you in a shaky, breathy squeak. “And you?”

“Hah, sure, kid. Had some contractor thing, half an hour from here. Then drinks with a coupl’a buddies from work. Could’ve been home by eleven-thirty,” he says roughly, driving through the still-vibrant streets of campus, “but it’s nearin’ two and I’m on a college campus.” The urge to apologize bubbles at your lips, high in your stomach, but you remain quiet. After a few stretches of dry silence, he asks again. “That party must’ve been real fun for you to leave your old man—and me—on radio silence, wun’nit?”

“Sure,” you manage, stammering. “We were celebrating my sorority presidency.” The dark scenery of Austin blurs past. 

“Oh, sorority presidency,” he repeats, both teasing and genuinely curious. “I did hear your dad mention you were in Alpha Phi, s’that right?” You nod. “What’s that, then? Do presidents get cowboy hats?”

Your face grows hot, hands reaching up to clutch at the rim of the hat atop your head. “No, this—somebody put it—it was a joke, Mr. Miller.” A huffy laugh escapes you. “Sorry.”

“Sweetheart,” he says, and you wrench the reminder he’s 51 he’s 51 he’s 51 through your head while he pauses, “‘m drivin’ you around Austin late at night, and I’ve known you for your whole life. How ‘bout we drop the Mr. Miller act, alright?”

“Oh. Okay,” you say. His hands grip the steering wheel firmly, and your eyes wander to his arms, to how he’s basically stuffed into the shirt he’s wearing, big and broad and bulky. His eyes remain focused ahead, so you let yourself indulge a tad bit more—lower, to the material of his jeans. It’s dark in the truck, so you can’t see much, just the flex of his thighs. “Joel.”

“Attagirl.” You chew at the inside of your cheek, already feeling arousal simmering in you, low and dirty. You’re going to soak through this godforsaken thong. “Mind if I make a pit stop?” You shake your head profusely, watch as he pulls into a gas station parking lot. “Want anythin’, girl?”

“N—” your lips form, but you scrap your original answer. “Gum, if they have it.”

“Be damned if they don’t.” He slams the door shut and you watch him enter the store, watch him through the glass panels. He’s so broad. You’d nearly completely forgotten how stupidly you liked him, and now it’s coming, throttling back full-force, especially with the thrilling aspect of it possibly coming to fruition. You are, after all, an adult. And so is he, paying for his shit with a tight-lipped expression, arms crossed again, arms big and—Jesus.

You squeeze your thighs together, willing yourself to get your shit in place when he pulls the door open again, his eyes scanning your seated figure. He tosses you the packet of gum, and you respond with a sweet thank you, Mr. M—Joel, and you fiddle with the packaging as he starts the car again, driving until scenery grows more and more familiar, closer to home.

“By the way,” he says, voice husky with the unuse of not talking for a while. “Think it’s best you spend the night at my house tonight, kid. It’s late. Later than late.” 2:44, the console digital clock reads in blinky red text. “Your parents don't want the door rattlin’ open at this hour, so I’ll let you in the guest room.”

“Oh,” you say. “Sure.”

“D’you have a change of clothes?” He asks, even if he knows you climbed into the seat with nothing but your phone and a cowboy hat. You shake your head and he tsks. “You’re barely covered, sweetheart. Best be careful walkin’ around when the night’s this chilly.”

Barely covered. You think of every possible response, but what leaves your glossed lips is the riskiest: “What do you mean, barely covered?”

You figure if he starts saying shit like what are you insinuatin’, kiddo? You better sleep at yours tonight instead, it’s an easy out—you’re turning the corner onto your street now, and your stomach is boiling with nerves, sticky and anticipatory. “I jus’ mean… it shows a lotta skin.” 

“It’s sorority merch, Joel,” you reply, half-amused and half-defensive.

“No, I”—he sighs, like he wants to backtrack what he’s just said—“I know, but… always worth somethin’ to be careful. Might catch a cold with all that leg… all that—you—showin’.” He parks in front of his house, this sizey, homey thing, and your heart flips knowing how familiar this place has been to you your entire life.

“I’m not going to wear winter gear to a spring break frat party.” You’re bolder, suddenly, but even if the statement is, your voice is level, meek, even. Joel nods, as if admitting defeat, and gets out of the car first; you follow, sneakers crunching against the asphalt as you follow him into the house.

“I hope,” he starts when you’re stationed beside him at the door, “I didn’t… offend you. I was jus’ concerned, is all.” Then he’s stoic again, slipping inside, straight to the kitchen to pour you a glass of water. He flicks a yellow light on and you squint when you get there, rubbing at your eyes to prevent them from aching.

You’re still rubbing at them when his gaze drops from your fussed-up hair and askew hat down to the shiny surface of your chest. Your goddamn top leaves him nothing to the imagination, your tits spilling out of it scandalously. The low cut even lets your bra peek through, red and bright and hey, you show up from college wearing these large university shirts and sweatpants—not this, never this. And your shorts, the way they’re really just a fucking belt, starting low on your hips and cut off high above your thighs.

Alpha Phi, the pink text on your white top reads on the left chest area. Right where your tits curve into the top, the slogan is printed: Union hand in hand. God, sororities and their fucking… quotable bullshit. And don’t get him started on the sash, this cutesy, frilly thing he wants to loop around your wrists so he can fuck you over the counter. He knows he can’t—it’s so wrong, so wrong. He’s known your dad for ages. 

But you… you're so tempting, a little minx, chirping Mr. Miller all sweet and apologetic, chest out on full display. He blinks when he hears your voice filter through the fog in his head. “—off?”

“What was that, sweetheart?” His eyes meet yours again and he feels a twinge of embarrassment at the way your bashfulness has somewhat melted to give way to the clear amusement on your face. You must’ve spotted the way he ogled you; he wasn’t exactly trying his hardest to be subtle, unfortunately. 

“D’you have something I can use to wipe myself off?” You gesture to your sticky collarbone area. “I got Jäger all over myself. Can’t handle the stuff.” You grimace at the memory, and he goes to grab a wet wipe; while waiting, you hoist yourself up onto the counter, bare legs swinging.

Joel turns to toss you the packet of wipes, but his throat dries before he can even call your name out. Your back is to him, and clearly you’re waiting for his return—you’ve busied yourself by sitting on his counter and letting the hot pink lace of your thong rise above the waistline of your shorts. Lord have mercy, he thinks to himself, adjusting his jeans as he walks back over to you.

“Wipes,” he says roughly, not anything else.

You accept the packet and smile shyly. “Can you…” you pause, the implication hovering over both of you, heavy. “Wait for me?” He nods, inviting. Warm. And he watches, inviting but not very warm anymore, the way you wipe over the expanse of your chest, over the curve of your tits, every other part of you dusted in glitter.

“So,” you say again. “Since we’re on first name basis now, Joel, I, um—I hope it’s okay to ask questions.”

“Sounds reasonable. Go for it,” he accepts. 

“When’s the last time you went to a party?” Your smile is mischievous. 

He chuckles, a huff of air. “...Long, long ago, kid. Back in my day, partyin’ meant beer, maybe a little weed… not that I'm complaining there, you understand.” He nods resolutely. “These days, a quiet home-cooked meal with just the people I really care about… is a party.”

“Wow, what an old guy answer,” you giggle. “Back in youuuur day.” Your raspy, honeyed voice wraps around the your with a teasing lilt.

“Oh, I’m old now, am I?” His stoic demeanor chips away when he laughs. “That makes you what, sweetheart? You’re barely a pup.”

At his words—at the utterance of pup—you roll your eyes and try to shift your seating so your thong doesn’t stick to your folds. “Okay, fine, next.” You’re not even wiping anymore, the material wrung into your fingers, which lay in a fist by your side. “When’s the last time you got shitfaced?”

He gives a grimace of a smile. “Aw… boy, it's been a while.” He comes closer, going from leaning on the opposite drawers to right beside you on the counter. You’re sitting and he’s leaning but still he’s taller, just a bit level. “But there was that one time back in my more adventurous days, when I was younger. A bachelor party wh… well, the details don't really bear talkin’ ‘bout in polite conversation.” He raises his eyebrows. “Why ya askin’ all this? What’s will all the last times?”

“I’m curious, is all.” You smile, leaning back; if his eyes drop just a bit, he’ll see right through your top, maybe even underneath the cup of your bra. “Okay, fine one last… last time.” You giggle, breathy. “When’s the last time you… had sex?”

The air shifts, and Joel clears his throat before chuckling. “S’none of your business, young lady. A gentleman is not raised to kiss and tell.”

“Oh, but he gets shitfaced n’ tells?” You test, pouting and leaning closer toward him so you can quiet your voice. “Come on. I won’t tell anyone I even asked.”

He sighs, contemplating. “Well… it’s been a while.” He gets his fair share of lays, when he goes out to bars with friends or the rare date, but nothing too drastic. It has been a few months. “But you didn’t hear that from me, understood? Now, let’s drop it.”

But you don’t drop it, you brat. “You’re like the born again 40-year-old virgin,” you tease smoothly.

“Try 51, honey,” he grunts out, depositing your dry wipes at the disposal across you. He turns back around, restrained. 

“And what, you don’t wanna change that?” No, he thinks—what he wants is to take you over the counter ’til you’re sobbing and sore.

“Hey now, don’t think I don’t think about it sometimes. But I jus’—I don't wanna get involved with no one, even though... Hell, if I met the right person, I might just change my mind. Ain’t that the way it goes?”

“That’s such an antiquated view of sex,” you quip boldly, pressing your arms to your sides. “What happened to just having one good fuck?”

His eyes flicker down then up. “Well, hey. Slow down with the cursin’, sweetheart. And what in the hell makes you think I don’t do that?” He crosses his arms, offering a raised eyebrow and an insufferably smug smile.

“You didn’t necessarily object when I called you a twice-over virgin.”

He chuckles. “There’s more than one way to let it all out, my girl. You don’t have to just go all in to hit the spot.” The thought of him using his own—or some girl’s, actually, hand, throat… to get off, gets you all hot. You want to be that girl. His girl.

“Like how?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

“Old man like myself probably can’t offer tricks you’ll find… useful.” He grunts, prepares to go upstairs. He reaches over you for the packet of wipes and your proximity urges him to stop, savor the closeness before the rational part of him reminds him you’re his best mate’s daughter.

“Okay, fine,” you say sweetly, voice much quieter—reserved just for the space between you two. “One last, then.”

Mmm, he huffs affirmatively, greenlighting your request. Impatient.

“Since when did old men do that?” You ask, inquisitive, placing emphasis on his self-proclaimed old man title.

“What? Entertain l’il minxes like yourself?” He responds, intending to break your newly-built façade of smugness.

“No,” you respond coolly. “Pack nine inches.” Then you’re clambering off the counter and walking to the stairs. He inhales sharply at the sudden vulgarity of your words, watches every move, every little bounce of your pert ass under the tiny shorts, the wave of your hair, every flex of the ridden-up lace thong against your back.

You turn briefly. “Coming or what?” And then you slip upstairs.

He hears the pad of your footsteps grow quiet and shuts his eyes, letting his composure waver in your absence.

Had he known Harold’s little girl would turn out to be the world’s biggest fucking tease—Jesus Christ. “Lord,” he rasps under his breath, repeating a mantra, holding back the urge to palm himself through his jeans. “Lord, have mercy.” Then he follows you, already spotting something different—the open door at the end of the hall.

His open door. It’s the one that directly mirrors your parents’, a revelation they all had a good laugh at. Sometimes if a matter was so pressing, a well-aimed pebble to the glass window would get Joel’s attention well enough. The lights are flicked on, cool-warm, in his bedroom. You’re in his bedroom. 

Or you’re not. He walks in to find no trace of you, save for the scuffed white sneakers by the doorframe. He toes off his own boots and spots the walk-in closet light’s also been flicked on. 

“Christ, you’re quick. You’re s’posed to be in the guest room.” He gestures vaguely to the one on the left side of the hall, even if you can’t see him.

“I had to pee. And I needed something to sleep in,” you say politely from inside. He grunts softly to himself at the thought of you undressing in there, the thought of you pulling on something of his. 

“Get out of there,” he orders. “I’ll get you somethin’.” Under his breath he mutters, “S’my goddamn closet.”

You chirp okay but he adds anyway: “Hurry, out.”

So you do follow him, even follow the order to hurry, because you’re hasty in your exit, clutching the cowboy hat to your chest. “Sit.” He points to the bed, watches you set the hat next to yourself gingerly. And one last time he asks the Lord for mercy, quietly and in his head, before shutting off every other rational thought that had stopped him tonight. 

You follow suit, hat still clutched to your torso, and he slowly comes to stand just in front of you, your face level with the buckle of his leather belt. When you shift he catches sight of the side of your bra, the lace of it. Eyes cast to your bare thighs, you pipe up.

“By the way, Mr. Miller—Joel, I didn’t mean to say any of—I mean, I thought we could talk comfortably about it… that… stuff, but I took it too f—” 

“You’re damn fuckin’ right you took it too far.”

He spits it out roughly, harshly. Like he’s scolding you. A zip of shock goes through you—you hadn’t heard him swear so loud before. Maybe he is. “I give you a free ride home at half past one, give you water, give you a place to sleep for the night knowin’ damn well your momma n’ dad would both have killed ya if you stepped foot in that house wearin’ next to nothing. What do I get in return?” He looks down at you, two rough fingers jerking your chin to look up at him.

“I—” you squeak, your voice and confidence betraying you. You’ve soaked through your panties at his sudden switch in behavior. Like you’d broken a dam.

“I get a brat… whorin’ herself out to me like I’m not over twice her age.” He tuts, like he really is disappointed, and your heart almost drops. “I get all these damn questions about sex, like you think I’ll break and fuck you on my kitchen counter.” He was considering it. “All the teasin’, all the skirtin’ around in a thong and a fuckin’…” He shakes your chin. “S’there even anythin’ in that head of yours, honey?”

Your mouth’d been open. You shut it and lick over your lips. “Yeah,” you defend weakly. His hand lowers to stroke at the column of your throat, then to hook under the tight strap of your bra, peeking out under the white of your top. He sidles it back and forth.

“S’this why you asked me all those dumb questions downstairs, huh, sweetheart? ‘Cause you wanted me to pull your top open and fawn over this”—he yanks the hat away, revealing your torso underneath—“little show o’yours?” Your cleavage is sinful, downright—perfect, perky, inviting him to mouth at your tits. Your sash sits prettily above them and he can’t help but pull at it, too, jolting you toward him. 

“N—” you inhale sharply, letting him pull and push you around as he pleases. He observes the blinding glittery writing on the pink material and lets out a humorless, self-satisfied huff of laughter.

“Number… one… girl.” His rough thumb grazes over the divots of the rhinestones. “That’s jus’ about right, ain’t it?”

“Yes,” you reply, voice small. 

“I’m not sure I agree, baby girl,” he drawls. His touch is precise—he knows exactly where to go, what he’s doing—but rough, dirty, almost, and the huge size of his hands don’t help to support otherwise. He tugs down your tank top so it’s tucked underneath your bra, and you yelp, making a move to cover yourself. He laughs again—“Sure, go all shy on me like you haven’t been showin’ yourself off to me all night. Knees.”

You get off quick, so quick you’re dizzy when you steady yourself on two knees. Two lithe hands make their way to his belt but he steps backward, revels in your evident confusion, clumsiness, the flush high on your cheekbones. “Buckle down, sweetheart.”

“But—”

“No goddamn buts. Listen to me.” He ends up being the one to make work of his belt, and while he talks you have to bite your lip to keep from going slack-jawed at the sight of him. You’d been kidding about the nine inches thing, but Christ he’s huge, strained against the tight denim. He’s thick even under the layers of clothing, and all you want to do is choke on him. “You’re gonna let me use that mouth t’get off, first thing,” he grunts, like this is all some chore to him, “because I am not goin’ to put my cock in my best mate’s daughter.”

“How about,” you croak lightly, “your fingers, then?”

“Jesu—we’ll see.” He tugs his cock out then, and he’s fucking huge, he really is, his tip angry and flushed and being rubbed along your lips, sticking them up with his precum. He sighs contentedly, humming low, the vibration sent straight to your half-open mouth. You suck on the tip of him, watch a slow smile form on his face. “That sash oughta say somethin’ else.”

Your silence grants elaboration. “Number one slut, maybe.” You shift on your thighs, trying to hide how aroused you are at his mean behavior. But he can tell, he can watch the way your blinking slows, the way your eyes glazed over, glassy and teary from trying to take more of him. He doesn’t tell you to slow down, or go faster; he just watches, eyebrows knitted, focused. “Budge up.” 

A hand, big and calloused, threads through your hair and gives a tug, goading your mouth open so more of his cock slips past. Your jaw aches from the attempt alone, so you pull off before you start choking too much, tonguing at the parts of him you can’t reach—lower, until you’re laving at his balls. He grunts, pleasured, simmered down. Attagirl. Then you’re back, bobbing up and down, trying despite yourself to take all of him, until your eyes are watery and you’re spluttering, choked.

“Now this is…” He says, and it comes out in a contented little sigh, “a number one throat. Keep those pretty lips open, honey, ‘m gonna fuck them.”

You do, your achy jaw slacked as he begins bucking into your mouth, the sounds of your choking only spurring him on. He’s dominant, taking and taking, and you’re humiliated to find how wet you are, soaked through the lace of your thong and darkening the denim of your shorts.  The tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat only gets him to thrust even faster, watching tears fall from your eyes, streaky with mascara. His best friend’s daughter, taking dick like a fucking champ.

He thrusts harder, each sound emitting a nasty, incoherent noise out of you, choked little gasps that have him harder each time. Gonna fuck this throat raw, he mutters. Since that’s what you wan’ed, ain’t it? You reach up, light fingers massaging his balls, and then his hips stutter, and with barely any warning, you feel his hot seed shoot into your throat, little satisfied groans leaving the man above you.

You swallow what you can, limited by his dick still in your mouth. When he pulls out you lap at the cum left behind, circle your tongue around your lips, make a whole show of it. You speak again, your voice raspy and spent: “Please, my turn?”

He lifts you up and smirks at the way you yelp in surprise, tossing you onto the bed and pulling you back onto your knees, your back to his chest. He wrangles your shorts off, gives your ass a smack as he pulls them down, enough to expose what’s underneath. The stiff material gathers just above your bent knees, restraining you from moving much.

“D’you know what,” he says, still sounding angry—like he’s lecturing you, stern, “I could’ve been in bed, wakin’ up at six to work… instead I gotta teach this little brat a fuckin’ lesson. Your old man not teach y’enough manners?” He tugs your bra down, thumbs roughly at your pebbled nipples, wrenching a moan out of you. He’s hard again, dick poking into your ass, and fuck you want him in you.

“He didn’t,” you sniffle, pitiful. “Y’gotta teach me, Daddy.”

“Oh, she likes that, don’t she?” He grumbles, like the title is annoying, juvenile. The way his cock twitches tells you otherwise. “Shut up, baby honey. I got this.” He reaches up your thighs and the ticklish, pleasurable sensation gets you hot.

Joel, you whimper, seizing in on yourself. He grabs your other arm, pulls it back toward him so you remain open and pliant. Please, wait.

“No time for waitin’, not when you spend hours prancin’ around like a little whore, sweetheart.” Without preamble, he’s running his fingers up your thighs again, not stopping this time until his fingers are pressing into your clit, rubbing over the thin, soaked fabric of your panties. “And you’re so fucking wet for me. My number one girl, ain’t you?”

“Yea,” you babble dumbly. “Your number one girl.”

“Thaaat’s right. My girl needs her needy cunt filled up, don’t she? By Daddy’s fat fingers.” You nod along, drawn in by the vulgarity of his words, the way he spits them out. You’ve spent several nights fantasizing how his big, rough hands would feel on you—and you’ve been outproven. He’s so fast, so skilled with his fingers; they feel delicious in you. And you can’t stop thinking about all of those girls he implied he’s slept with, the way they probably got to this first. Lucky bitches.

He’s gotten you so wet the entire night, even moreso now, that your pussy is making obscene squelching noises with each pump of his fingers, these nastily loud noises that humiliate you, that turn you on even more, that make you drip all onto Joel’s linen sheets. Fuck, you whimper. He swats at your ass. No swearing, he’s saying.

“Look up for me, honey. Up at the window.” Outside, the sun’s beginning to crawl over Austin, just the faint blues and yellows of early morning. You realize you know this because his curtain’s been pulled open—by him, earlier, before any of this even started, you assume. And the only other thing you can see other than the sky and the sliver of the neighborhood is your parents’ window.

“No,” you plead, looking down. He doesn’t let you, tugs you back up to look by your hair. He knows your parents won’t be up ’til seven-thirty latest. But you don’t know that, and for now, you don’t have to.

“What then, huh, sweetheart? When they go to check on the weather n’ they see their best friend poundin’ their young daughter? What’d they think?” You jerk away, overcome with pleasure and embarrassment at the imaginary situation. You feel his fingers pump in and out of you, filling you up. They’re probably thick and hot, glistening each time they come out. You’re tightening up; you’ll cum soon, make a mess on his hand, which already drips with slick. “So you better hurry. Better make a mess on me soon.”

“I am, I’m—I’m gonna,” you moan. You’re wrapped up in the way his fingers play you just the right way. You’re so close to the surface, and you’ve been wanting this for way too long, so you nod, let yourself get carried away by his words, let yourself give in, spreading your legs as wide as they can go as he fingerfucks you, working out the tension that’s been building up for forever. 

“That’s my number one girl,” he grins into your neck, and you’re convulsing release onto his hand, wetting it even further. He wraps a hand around your waist, keeps you close to his figure, his erection at the small of your back. “That’s it, honey. Did so well for me.”

“I want it,” you say meekly. “Even if they see.”

He groans. “Sweetheart, you must think real low of me to believe I’d put my cock anywhere near Harold’s daughter’s pussy.”

You tug your panties fully down, just enough so they fall off on their own the rest of the way, and guide his slick hand behind yourself, pressing his finger first into your folds again, sensitive, and then up toward your tighter hole.

You feel his breath tighten behind you when you say: “How ‘bout there?”

[ladyelissarose]

‘Stop Thinking!’

Miguel O’Hara x girlfriend reader

Warnings; 4K!!! NSFW, smut. Very fluffy- Like fluffy overload. Soft Miguel. I feel like he would be such a soft and sweet person while off-work. (Like look at how sweet he was with Gabriella) anyways. Enjoy y’all!


Author’s note: so this is my first time writing smut. I have no experience in this area of writing. But I wanted to try something new for y’all. So far I’ve been learning from all the amazing smut fics I’ve read. (There are some great ones out there!!) So please, I’m willing to take some word from y’all if y’all like or see something that is fixable! Likes and reblogs are much appreciated- much love y’all! message me if you’ll like to mention something in private;)




“Oh!- Miguelll. Ah! That’s tickles.”


You let out a soft giggle as Miguel laid on top of you in bed, at your shared apartment, kissing your soft stomach wherever he pleased. You both decided to take the day off, (more like you pushed him to finally agree because you saw how exhausted he was) after being stressed out and running on 24 back to back shifts all to protect the spider-universes.

Jess and Peter B. had it in their control, along with LEGO Spider-Man too, (Miguel actually trusted that poor LEGO and seemed more at peace with him along with the others than not.) Anyways, while a very attention deprived Miguel tried to shower you in his once all pent up love and touch, you were too busy still thinking and being busy.


“I wonder if Hobie is going to pull a funny prank once you get back, he hates your guts yet can never leave your lair area.”


Miguel mumbled incoherent words as his lips kissed every part of your soft tummy, your shirt now scrunched up to your neck. You were in simple panties while Miguel rested in his boxers, choosing to have less clothing between the two. You felt Miguel all over you, relaxing in his touch but thought a little more before adding,


“Baby can I babysit MayDay one day? So Peter B and you can work better together and he’s not very distracted?”

This time he let out a groan which you considered a ‘yes’.


“Oh yay!”

To that he softly bit your tummy, to which you let out a soft squeak but nonetheless put forth,

“Or maybe I’ll go on a mission with all the teens, they all seem pretty fun, especially Miles and Pavtir. Gwen gives me ‘mommers’ energy, I’ll invite her to the mall instead. ohhhh.”


 He had just left a super wet kiss in between your breasts after giving attention to them, but he replied,
“Hmm hmm amor.”
Miguel loved to hear you talk, it was no doubt that hearing your voice made his day better (especially when certain spiderlings gave him a hard time.)

But right now, he didn’t want to hear that, he just wanted to hear your soft sighs, those little hitched breaths when he kissed a certain spot. Although more than any of those, it was the whimpers and pleading cried you made for him, along with the sweet moans that were addicting and music to his ears.

Buuuuuut, you wouldn’t god damn shut up. Your mind was working to fast instead of slowing down.
“Hey Miguel, when do you think Jess will have her bab-“

Ok, he has had it, pushing his hair back with one hand he lifted up off of your for a second before stressing out his desperation,


“Por Dios amor, can you shut the hell up for one minute?”

Silence filed the room instantly, you snapped out of your chatty self and saw Miguel’s warm brown eyes hold a yearning in them, and he was breathing hard yet letting in and out slowly. You felt bad for being selfish much, and for not being able to decompress for him.

“I’m sorry Miguel.”

A pout fell on your lips which he kissed away instantly,
“It’s ok amor... I’m not mad. Just... relax.”

You nodded and he then kissed you, feeling that you might give in already, but you began to make excuses against his lips. Mumbling the words against him as he had refused to separate from your lips,
“-ut Migg-“

He pulled away with a huff and held up a very serious finger to your lips gently,
“Don’t ‘But Miggy’ me. Miguel, your boyfriend is telling you to shut up and let me love you. No more work, or nothing. All I want to hear from those pretty lips is moans and my name. Es todo, y nada mas.”


A little snicker passed your lips as you then exaggerated with heavy pants,
 “Oh yeah! Yes please! Ohh- AH MIGUELLL! Oh- fuck!!”


Miguel let out a delicious chuckle with a smirk, groaning lowly as he seated himself deep inside you, relishing in the fact of how you squeezed him so perfectly, hitting all the right spots for him. You were left breath and wordless, as his sudden act caught you off guard and now shut up. You let out a shaky breath and a small moan, trying to suppress it as he pressed in harder and held his place as he whispered to your ear,


“Wanna be quiet now? Thought you wanted to be loud? Hm queirda?”


Teasingly he dragged his fangs across your neck, placing feather light kisses behind the wet trails he left. You squeezed his broad shoulders tightly and in that moment you tried to admire his stealth and magnificence above you, but your mind went racing, and you lost yourself in his eyes as you once again went into thinking,
‘How’d his big size fit in so quickly and unexpectedly-‘


“Amor. Are you ok with this- I’m sorry if I-“

Miguel had the guiltiest frown and started to pull away, and you felt as if your air was being taken from you. How could he think he was in the wrong for absolutely praising and pleasuring you?

With grabby hands you pulled him flush against your chest as you pleaded,

“No no no! You’re ok baby, I swear.”


 His brow picked up a bit as he then asked curiously, showing how much he actually cared about ‘you’ over everything, even while still balls deep inside you,
“Then what’s wrong amor? Hm?”


His homey brown eyes bore only yours as you calmed him,
“Sorry, I was just.. lost in thought.”


 His frown was long gone as he pursed his thick lips and couldn’t help but tsk,
“You still have a question do you?”


Your cheeks burned bright red as you slowly nodded and whimpered,

“yes.”

He propped himself on his elbows to not crush you as he then threatened with a kiss to your nose,
“You have one last question to ask before I rail you until you stop thinking.”


 A breath left your chest in satisfaction as you wiggled a bit, biting down a moan from feeling him swell harder in you, and perfectly ignoring how he bit his lips hard to contain himself. You then raked your hands across his back as you perked,
“How’d you squeeze yourself so easily inside of me? When it usually takes-“

Then you took one of his hands and kissed his knuckles before continuing,
“-your fingers to warm me up?”


 Miguel let out one of his warmest smiles that had a hint of tease in it as he replied,
“Well... you were to busy thinking up here *kiss on your head* instead of thinking down here!-“


And with a quick pull back he slammed himself back into you, causing you to arch into him and this time really moan out,
“Ahhh! Oh Miiiguel.”


“Si? I’m here amor. And you-“

Another deep thrust*

“-were long ready before you even knew it.”

deep thrust*

“Oh go-“

“No amor.. just me.. Miguel. Vamos amor, say my name.”

Lust and pride burned red in his eyes as he looked down at your smaller form under his, adoring every move and sound you made, because of him.

With gentle but hard moves he thrusted into you, being the cause of your short breaths and little whimpers that he was now happy to receive and hear. Arms wrapped around him you pulled yourself up and bit onto his lips, and you left him a sweet kiss before challenging with a sultry voice,


“Make me, Miguel.”


His slower, languid movements suddenly stopped, as he watched you look up at him with a high chin. You let go of his arms and dropped yourself back down, lifting your arms above your head and resting them there. You were sure in a damn mood huh? But it only excited you and brought more to your arousal when he growled,


“Lo hare entonces.”


 Eyes now glowing red, in seconds he had one hand clasped with both of yours, fingers intertwining in a bruising grip, holding them high above your head. With his other hand, he put a soft pressure on your lower stomach, and trailed it up, expanding his fingers to get a whole feel of your skin against his. He stopped his hand right at your throat, his sweet voice betraying his sharp demeanor when he asked- of not pleaded,


“Por favor amor? Do you trust me?”


You sent him a confident smile with a verbal reply, knowing he preferred those for good confirmation,


“Yes love. I trust you.”


Fingers embracing the hold your neck gave him, he squeezed lightly, not wanting to push it too much, but it was just the right amount.

Miguel loved pushing you and trying new things, but he always did it after asking and making sure you were absolutely comfortable. If not he wouldn’t ask twice to do it or make you feel bad about not going with it.

Now your legs found place around his waist, hugging him tightly as he had pulled back and you refused him to go any further out.

But your worries about that were cut short when he began to pour his love out to you with every sharp thrust. Hitting every spot in you had you almost seeing stars, warmth seeped into you from the inside out. Low whimpers escaped his lips all while he made sure loud moans came from yours.

Also, one thing Miguel couldn’t go through this without- was the praise.

“You’re taking me so well amor, eres perfecta. All mine hm?”

A kiss to your lips he added,
“Look at you, hermosa. Tan bueno... look at me.”

You eyes had tried to flutter shut, but at his whimpering plea you couldn’t deny him. Your fucked out eyes looking into his hungry and lustful ones, you both fed off on one another, pleading for more.
 Words were almost not able to get out from how breathless he made you with every thrust. Bit with a certain one that hit you right where it made all the butterflies go all out, you did muster out,
“Y-Yes! Jus’ for you Mig- ah! Please- don’t stop!”

A heavy sigh left your lips as tears prickled in your eyes, the pleasure all too good to keep a straight face. You could feel it all building up, but it felt all too right and perfect to want to finish it and let it go so fast. And you knew Miguel felt the same when he groaned,
“Just a little longer amor, no quiero parar tampoco.”

Your legs pushed him further into you and you dug your heels into his muscled lower back, reaching up to kiss he parted lips.
 Lips then connecting he took your breath away yet provided leverage with his hard pants escaping into you. His muscles rippled under you and you could feel his every movement as he pressed himself impossibly closer to you, not getting enough of your touch or your skin against his.

A light coat of sweat covered you both at the close proximity, but neither gave a damn as you dove into the heat of this moment, embracing into this warmth and heat that was like no other. It was the kind that made you feel safe, known, belonging, cared for, and most of all.. unapologetically loved.

After every other thrust Miguel seemed to be going faster, his hand leaving your neck to use his fingers to rub against your clit, prompting you to reach your high he called his trophy.

Your moans spurred him on as you could feel that familiar and all different warmth of pleasure grow in your lower tummy. You squeezed Miguel’s hand tightly as you pleaded in between moans,
“Ah! Miguel, please.”

With a harsh but quick kiss to your lips Miguel teased,
“Please what? Qué deseas amor?”

He let out a deep groan when your walls tightened around him, making him let out a sweet low moan that was rare to get but you swallowed his every sound desperately like a drug. He smiled with his lips on yours as he asked,
“You close amor? Hm? I can feel- ahhhh.”

You’ve never heard Miguel this vocal before, and you couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t triggering something deep in you. Finding him strong in his vulnerability, as he moaned to your words,
“I’m close baby- please! F-Faster!”

Miguel then let go of your hands, and wrapped his arms around you, settling with one hand splayed on your back, and the other gripping your waist tightly, threatening to leave ‘love tattoos’. With a single kiss to you lips Miguel growled,
“Como deseas, aferrate a mi.”


 Your arms grasped tightly onto his broad shoulders, closing whatever gap was left between you two. Your cheek was pressed on his and you held his head against you possessively. 


Miguel put himself onto his knees, and laid you down while clinging onto him for life, as if you were afraid to let him go and lose everything of him. With a reassuring kiss to your head, the fight for your highs became utterly real.

With quick, deep thrusts he began to absolutely rail you, grinding onto your sweet spot with every hit, spurring you on and raising your cries for him.
“Oh Miguel! Ah! Please please- Miguel!!”

He could definitely feel how close you were to an euphoric moment, velvety walls swallowing his length and milking him for what was to come. It only encouraged him to suck up what was left of his adrenaline to sink further in and gift what he could in pleasure.


 Miguel loved you entirely, he’d kill and die for you. You had given him your heart and knew he wouldn’t screw up again, and if he did, he swore with his heart and life that he’d pay for it. In return he had finally given his to you, once he saw and knew you’d do the absolute same for him, if not more.

His life was harsh and more than occupied, he wore a mean facade 99% of the time so he wouldn’t be stepped on, but with you, he could be 100% himself, and this is who he was. A loving, self-sacrificing man, who was vulnerable and healing by giving his all to you. Showing his love endlessly by making himself yours and you his. 
 Feeling himself coming to close to his release, he let go of your waist and trailed his hand to your clit, using his fingers to press down harsh and tight circles that have you curling your toes.
“Vamos amor, come baby I’m right with you. I’m h-here.”


 His words cut short when you finally let go at his command, gushing on him as you let out a deep cry of his name and ‘I love you’s’. 
 Miguel embraced you close as he let go right after you, panting and kissing your neck as he let his cum paint inside of you, marking you once again as his. With a couple last deep thrusts, he finally came to a stop and took deep breaths in between heartfelt words.


“I.. I love you amor.. so m-much.”


You responded with a light kiss to his lips and a mumble, feeling the exhaustion slowly take over,
“I love you... more baby.”


 Miguel got up on his elbows, muttering comforting words as he slowly started to pull out, but you whined a bit and held his shoulders, a small but visible pout on your lips. He thought you were very sore after such a long and hard session, but you quickly said,
“Stay inside.. I.. I want you close.”


 Miguel smiled at you sweetly, knowing that he too would love to do the same, but you needed a refreshing bath first. So he bargained and promised,
“Why don’t we take a quick bath, then we can do that, yeah amor?”

You thought for a minute before accepting he was right, the sticky feeling in your legs showing so. The thought of having cool yet warm water embrace your growing sore body, had you ready to get up immediately.


“Ok baby, let me get up to start it-“

“No no no... let me carry you, come on.”


Like the strong man he was, he was able to sweep you up into a bridal style, carrying you gently into the bathroom as you muttered,
“Thank you..”

“Anytime amor. Sit here while I get the stuff ready.”


 He gently placed you on the sink and wrapped you with the sheet you dragged along so you wouldn’t get cold, pressing a kiss to your lips twice, he then went on to prepping your bath. 


Having memorized all the salts and bath bombs you preferred most for soreness and relaxation, Miguel efficiently and quietly placed them all into the warm water, splashing it a bit to make more bubbles (as he knew you secretly loved it passionately) 

 In peace you watched how his back muscles moved so enticingly with every thing he did. They were so big and comforting to touch.

He used his strength to take out big scary guys and protect his multiverses... but he also used them to make your bath perfect, and that thought... did warm your heart and make you fall harder for him as always.

His chiseled chest gleaming in light and in his sweat, brought you back to earth as he walked toward you with a warm smile and soft words,
“Ok mi amor, it’s ready, come on.”


 With one arm he picked you up, only confirming how tough you thought he was, and he gently and carefully placed you both in. His chest against your back he held you close, his hands never leaving your body. 


You two sat in quiet for a bit, relishing in the water and in each other, soon then Miguel asked if you were ok and not hurt at all, you responded with,
“I feel complete with you. I’m perfectly safe and happy baby.”


 With peppering kisses you two helped each other clean up, you too also asking him questions to make sure he was ok as well, and he responded assuringly,
“Never been better. Contigo estoy contento amor.”


 Little after you both were ready to hop out, as the water had cooled down. Drying off with fluffy towels, exchanging shy and loving glances at your exposed bodies made you both giggle a bit and have rosy faces, but you’ve never felt more free and safe. 


Massages were given to your sore legs and back, as Miguel rubbed on some lotion for you. You tried to do the same, but ended up being enthralled by how rock hard his abs were that you got distracted a couple of times.

So you instead helped him back by getting some fresh water and popping some fruit in his mouth, he couldn’t resist but return that favor but also steal fruity kisses. Then you two put out clean sheets, it all felt so romantic yet domestic, and beautiful combination that was so perfect. 
 Now completing his promise, the big, strong, mean and hard Miguel held puppy eyes and crawled on top of your laying form and whispered,
“Can we still...?”

“Yes baby, I haven’t changed my mind. C’mere.”


 He smiled like a dork, as he guided himself into you once again, this time he was soft yet firm, but you both sighed contentedly once he was fully inside.

Half of his weight rested on you, his legs to the side as his face came to hide in your neck, his hand finding place on your head and the other intertwined with yours. You cradled his head and kissed it sweetly,
“Goodnight baby, get some sleep.”


 Your words sounded like he was the only one going to be sleeping. Your voice sounded so alive compared to his, and he could only grumble,
“You better not be thinking. Go to sleep.”

“Miggy-“


 His head lifted to be above you as he worded seriously yet with a tease,
“Go mimis. Please amor. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

You lifted a brow and sassed,
“Promising another round sir?”


 Calling ‘sir’ had him smirk and threaten,

“More like rounds. I won’t only make your legs sore but your brain too.”

“Mmmm challenge accepted-“

He sighed a short laugh of disbelief at your still sassiness as he plopped back down into your neck.
“Mimis amor. Now.”

You were going to respond, but a sudden deep yawn came over you, and in seconds you felt extremely exhausted. Eyes closing slowly you worded lastly,
“G’night baby.. love you.”


 Miguel hummed against you, content to hear you passing out as he replied,
“Sweet dreams amor.. love you too.”


 You passed out before he even finished, he felt the deep breaths you took and how your hand went limp on his head. He smiled to himself and got comfortable, before riding his sleeping chariot alongside you.

Spanish Translations;
amor- love
Queirda- dear
Como deseas- as you wish
Es todo, y nada mas- that’s it, and nothing more
Lo hare entonces- I’ll do it then.
Aferrate a mi- Hold onto me
Vamos- come on
Contigo estoy contento- With you I’m happy
Eres perfecta- you’re perfect
Mimis- night-night

[dokiyeom]

AYA’S SEVENTEEN FIC RECS

note: ngl i meant to post this in dec as an end of 2022 sort of thing and as a bit of an apology for my inactivity,, but my mental health has not been fantastic,, but here are some of my favorite seventeen fics that i’ve read !! also ps pls feel free to send me some of ur own favs bc i miss reading fics && i’m begrudgingly admitting that i’m not great at finding fics,, like sm of these i have to thank yeona for sending me :00

ot13/multi/love interest revealed later on !!

UNDER THE SUN - @wooahaes (series // fantasy/darl+ing au // multi ot13 part)

i think i’ve rbed almost all the individual parts if ur interested in my more specific thoughts but this series has been an absolute comfort series for me for a while !! the relationships between the members and the reader - both platonic and romantic have been so lovely to read !! it’s such a genuinely warm series and the worldbuilding is also just soso fantastic !! it is a fantasy sort of au,, so it’s a bit daunting to get into just because the logic of the universes created in this genre is a bit difficult to grasp,, but uts has such an easy to comprehend world and everything is explained so clearly !! it’s genuinely one of the most comforting fics i’ve read this year and one that i’d highly recommend to pretty much everyone,, even if u aren’t a carat :D

APARTMENT A5C - @suhnshinehaos (smau - college au)

my favorite svt smau that combines some of my fav tropes/aus (housemates and uni) !! ++ i’d argue there’s a found family aspect that just melts my heart soso much,, like the reader’s relationship with the 96 line, both platonic and romantic are insanely heartwarming and comforting !! the banter is so entertaining && all of the additional friendships are just to die for !! esp sana and yuta with the reader !! but honestly this smau is just soso sweet and a story where u really root for the main couple to get together bc they just fit each other so well !! def another fic i’d recommend to anyone !!

LOVESTRUCK @/suhnshinehaos (smau - college au)

short endings for the reader’s other housemates !! has the same entertaining banter and cute relationship buildup that is just soso perfect to read after apartment a5c to treat ur post fic sadness <3 all the relationships are formed in a shorter period of time, but with just that same amount of investment !!

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

OBVIOUS - @leejungchans  (0.9k words - wedding florist and baker au) 

so stinking cute !! the reader and seungcheol having related businesses and appreciating each other’s dedications to their respective crafts is soso endearing :D genuinely my fav seungcheol fic bc hello ? good writing + sulky cheol + established relationship ? an absolute 10/10 and must read that i revisit way too often :D

YOON JEONGHAN

ORDER UP - @/leejungchans  (2.4k - cafe au)

half of these r gonna b recs from sol’s masterlist,, but her works r just too good !! this fic is so darn cute and entertaining, with jeonghan’s antics + his classic attention n care for those in his life were captured so well !! him remembering the reader’s order and his sheer dedication to orchestrating an opportunity for a conversation outside of the reader placing their order was just so fun to read && is genuinely a fic i reread time and time again :D

CAUGHT @/leejungchans (1.1k - preschool? teachers au)

this. this is so insanely endearing hello ?? jeonghan as a preschool teacher is absolutely perfect, and the banter mixed with such tender love that the reader and jeonghan share is just so <3 it’s a relatively short read,, so i’d highly, HIGHLY, recommend giving this a read because it’s soso worth it,, esp if ur feeling a bit down and in need of something fun and sweet to read :D

REDEMPTION @/leejungchans (11.5k)

such whirlwind of emotions but soso insanely riveting !! bad boy jeonghan,,, oh my gosh a concept i (YOU !!) never knew i (YOU !!) needed in my life. him driving a motorcycle. him w tattoos. insane. amazing. fantastic. and a redemption arc ??? reader holding him accountable for wrongdoings ??? genuine efforts to change ?? go read it rn !! u must !!

CANDLELIGHT @/leejungchans (1.2k) - a fav bc its own of my fav tropes :D (blind dates)

my all time favorite jeonghan fic. literally so sweet to read and had me grinning ?? in the middle of the night ?? at my phone !! that’s outrageous !! but so insanely understandable bc this is such an enjoyable read && just so easily heartwarming to hear about the setup of the blind date. honestly,, i don’t think i can understate just how charming and worth reading this is !! 

THE MOST PRECIOUS THING @idyllic-ghost​ (3.6k - hospital/secret relationship au) 

another charming and lovely fic !!! i’m such a sucker for the secret relationship trope,, and this fic had such a fantastic take on it !! i adored the dynamic that jeonghan and the reader had, esp how much they cared for and rooted for each other :DD the banter at work and the tender love they share at home was also just,, absolutely chef’s kiss !!

HONG JOSHUA

LOVE ON THE AIR @suhnshinehaos​ (smau - college au)

i was. so invested in this smau LMAO but the reader and joshua’s friendship was soso lovely to read !! the buildup and tension were absolutely insane and genuinely had me so excited every time i logged onto tumblr to check for any updates :D the side friendships were also just so lovable and endearing,, and i found this smau to overall b super super charming :D

GOLDEN HOUR @dkfile​ 1(2.4k - summer vacation/bffs2l au)

joshua and the reader’s friendship is just so insanely sweet and endearing to read !! this fic is so reminiscent of a sentimental and fun coming of age romance,, which i feel like fits joshua soso well !! the whole time ur rooting soso hard for the main couple to get together, and just reading the buildup is incredibly entertaining !! and also the banter ?? literally so amazing && funny :D

WEN JUNHUI

HOW HARD MY HEART’S BEATING @adi--writes (3.3k - travel/photographer au)

the prose,, oh my gosh !! this fic played out so cinematically !! i loved jun and the reader’s friendship so much,, and how the fic progresses just naturally makes u root for a confession scene regardless of them being the main couple !! everything flowed so organically and their travel stories made for such a beautiful and compelling journey of love :D

KWON SOONYOUNG

(UN)TRADITIONAL @neonun-au (1.8k - wedding au)

the alt title >>> this fic was so full of personality and the premise just fits soonyoung so well !!! the bond that the reader and soonyoung share is just so insanely heartwarming,, esp their mutual understanding and respect for each other’s values !! in general,, the love in this fic is so genuine and lovable :DDD

JEON WONWOO

FLOWER @wonwoonlight (13k - exes au / editor+writer au)

this premise. my gosh it’s perfect !! this fic was such a great take on the second chance trope and the emotions were so fantastically fleshed out !! the progression of wonwoo and the reader’s relationship felt so natural and overall so enjoyable to read :DD

PLAY AGAIN @shuarush (37k words - coworkers au)

the pining !! the tension !! the friendships !! the anecdotes !! the prose !! go read it !! rn !! overall this was such a beautiful journey to read and i enjoyed it soso much :D aside from the main relationship,, i found the reader and jeonghan’s friendship to be soso sweet and endearing !! i also loved loved loved !!!! the writing style in this fic !! everything was so well paced and patient,, which made for such a compelling and beautiful journey that i absolutely loved !!

LEE JIHOON

LIVE @wondernus (1.24k - est relationship au)

so stinking cute !!!! i’m such a sucker for fics like these where the love interest is live and everyone’s also swooning over how sweet the relationship is :DD the love jihoon has for the reader is soso heartwarming and fuels my unending yearning for this sort of cute partnership <//3 this fic is just so enjoyable and the ending. it’s perfect :DDD bc same soonyoung,, same

HEARTACHE AND A LATTE @dkfile (9.3k - cafe au)

read this after not reading any fics for a WHILE and this was just such a chef’s kiss fic :D like the friendships with seungkwan, soonyoung, jeonghan, and wonwoo ?? amazing !!! but the buildup w jihoon !!! my gosh it was so genuinely cute !! i absolutely adored their friendship and the little indications of jihoon’s feelings for the reader :D just such a cute and lighthearted fic that i’d highly rec !!!

LEE SEOKMIN

SOMETHING SWEET @wonwoonlight (2.1k - cafe au)

your honor i love this fic !!!! w all my heart !!!! this fic captured just how lovable seokmin is && had such a cute pining plot :DD this was soso heartwarming and i was so easily invested in their relationship !! overall,, just such a sweet and enjoyable read :DD

KIM MINGYU

MY DAISY @wonwoonlight (series)

this. this was so fantastic. genuinely,,, everyone needs to read this when they can bc it is soso worth reading !!! i loved the friendships and the reader’s relationship with mingyu so much,, and gyuri !!!! gyuri !!!!! honestly i don’t think i can explain just how much i love this fic,, but pls,, pls read this bc this series is so insanely fantastic and had me so invested the whole way :DD

FIVE SHOTS AT LOVE @wooahaes​ (8.5k)

one of my favorite fics !! one of the first fics i read and i just absolutely fell in love with the setup of this fic,,, like the friendship with wonwoo just absolutely won my heart,, and the deepening relationship with the reader was the cherry on top !! such a beautiful and emotionally vulnerable fic that i found so much joy and sadness, but ultimately such an insane amount of comfort in :D def read and check out some of the warnings beforehand just in case !!

TRIAL AND ERROR @/leejungchans (2.9k - cafe au)

SUCH a cute little fic about mingyu trying to approach the reader but failing so miserably each time :D i had such a great time reading this and rooting for mingyu in each attempt !! his genuine earnestness was so adorable to read the way the ending panned out gave me so many giggles :D

XU MINGHAO

ACADEMIC INFATUATION @berriesandjunnie​ (2.5k - professor au)

i love a college setting, workplace romance, and any au where everyone around the reader/main couple are just rooting so hard for them to get together !!! and omg professor hao AND flustered hao ?? like bc of his feelings and nervousness ?? omg literally such a lovely read !!! i had such a good time reading this && got a bit of a giggle which is so 10/10 when reading a fic !!! def read !!!!

AVANTE GARDE @hoyoungy (4.1k - uni/artist au)

tbh as someone who really loves art,, i found this fic suuper enjoyable !! and black mullet minghao ?? hello ?? overall,, i loved the development of minghao and the reader’s relationship soso much and the general nature of how they get to know one another :D like i was soso invested in their journey and just really loved the appreciation both of them grow and have for each other :DD vv worth reading and would highly recommend :D 

BOO SEUNGKWAN

CLASSMATES TO LOVERS @/leejungchans (2.1l uni au)

bulletfics are def such a gem to read,, like short n sweet,, just perfect for a cute little fic :D i adored seungkwan’s impression of the reader and his sheer admiration for them !! like the chemistry was so on point and executed so well in this format too !! AND THE CHOCOLATES gosh this is so cute i love how seungkwan was written in this fic !! 

CHWE VERNON

WORK HUSBAND @wondernus​ (8.8k - teacher au)

my gosh this was soso cute,, like literally i’ve reread this more times than i can admit :0 the reader and vernon’s friendship is just so endearing and felt so genuine !! i really enjoyed reading the buildup of their relationship and just found this to be such a charming story !! like what i would give. to read this for the first time again PLEASE read this !!!

OR WOULD YOU RATHER IT BE ME @thepixelelf (7.9k - soulmate au)

a whole journey of emotions that had me on the edge of my seat and waiting for the reveal !!! the relationship between the reader and vernon were established so well,, like their genuine care and desire for each other to stay in their lives just straight up tugs at my heartstrings !!! this was such a wholesome and hilarious love story that i thoroughly enjoyed :D

LEE CHAN (aka leejungchans chan fics :DDD)

THE SECRET LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS (6.5k words - flower/tattoo shop au)

i loved the contrast between the reader and chan’s character soso much,, and how that ultimately made their relationship soso much more cute and lovable ?? like how intimidated he was and his little crush that he tried so hard to squander !! i love the progression of their relationship soso much and how genuine chan was written in this fic !!!!

OF STICKY NOTES AND STRANGERS (3.8k words)

every time i sit in a library, cafe, or park, i’m waiting for this to happen to me. i adore the premise of this soso much and how the reader’s friend group schemes to catch the perpetrator :DD like overall this fic was so lovely and i def understand the little crushes you get in public on attractive people in your vicinity while working in a public space :DD just so cute,, so heartwarming,, and def fuels my yearning

SCORED! (12.4k words - uni au)

athlete chan,,, oh wow,,,,, this fic was one of the first chan fics i read as i got into seventeen and definitely cemented him as one of my biases in the group :DD i love the banter that went on between the reader and chan,, as well as all the hilarious little details of the other columns !! like project vernway is forever ingrained in my mind whenever i see pieces christiano siriano or any other contestants from project runway !!! overall i just love how this fic played out and all of the hilarious interactions between everyone involved !!! def a super fun read :DDD

[centipedelightning]

Hi there I was wondering how you think the skeleboys (especially the papyrus's) would fel about a really tall S/O like I'm talking like just a little under 8 feet tall (they could be a monster if that helps). Established romantic relationship.

(Underfell, undertale, underswap plus dealers' choice again if you want :D)

PS: Love your work. You're totally underrated

skdjgdskj This is so fun. and thank you!! I'm glad you like my stuff!! tbh I think I'm average rated when you consider the fact that I never fucking post dkfghkg. I don't want to talk about how old this request is...

| UT/UF/US x Super Tall!gn!Reader || Romantic || fluff |

Sans

Listen

He's already a pretty short guy.

So he's used to being towered over.

But eight feet?? Yeah, you aren't getting away with it.

Sans is standing on Everything to be at eye level with you.

Everything.

I hope you like being big spoon because that is what you will be for the rest of forever.

Damn near every time he wants to kiss you, he will make a joke about climbing a tree/mountain/skyscraper.

The only way to shut him up is to lean down and kiss him. Please do he's not afraid to reuse old material and that's when it gets super painful to listen to.

The lazybones is never going to reach for anything again. Ever.

Papyrus

He's already used to being shorter than a number of other Monsters, so he doesn't think too much of it.

If you were a human he would make a surprised comment about how he didn't know humans could get so tall, but that would be the extent of it.

He actually likes when you have to lean down to kiss him. It makes him fluttery because he is the one that usually has to stoop down.

He loves dancing around with you! For similar reasons to the kissing thing, he's usually the one to lead because he's usually taller, so your relationship is a welcome change.

If you ever dare to rest your arm on his head or noogie him he will a) complain loudly and b) go apologize to Sans because he's "NEVER REALIZED THE STRUGGLES OF BEING SO SHORT".

Red

This guy has a complex okay.

Instead of joking with your height, he'll joke against it.

i.e. he will do whatever he can to jokingly treat you like you are short.

If you are sitting down anywhere, Red is gonna drag a stool or chair over, get up on it, and joke about you being short.

Don't you dare hit your head on a doorframe you will never hear the end of it.

Shameless in just dragging you down to his level when he wants a kiss.

You two can go to bed in any cuddling position you want, you're more than likely going to wake up with Red koala bear-ed to your side.

Good luck getting out of there by the way; his grip strength is surprisingly intense.

Edge

In a similar vein to Papyrus, Edge is used to people being taller than him. He's just also whiny about it.

He'll try to "prove himself" in every little way he can regardless of how annoying it might be. Tall shelf? Prepare to get shoved out of the way so Edge can get it for you despite the fact that you are significantly taller.

He won't say it but he does appreciate not needing to hunch over to talk to people.

He will say that he doesn't like looking up so far. He'll say it constantly.

Lovesss clothing shopping with you. The man has taste and money. You will never struggle for well-fitted, good-looking clothes.

He has his besties at the tailors that will soon become your besties as well. The hottest power couple ever truly.

Dogamy and Dogaressa look out.

Blue

So fine. So, so fine.

On his best behaviour really!

Blue pulls the same "prove he's capable by doing tall things for you" shtick Edge does but he's completely unaware he's doing it.

If you say you're gonna get up and get a glass of water, he's already in the kitchen telling you he's got it. Not a setup if you're more lazily-inclined.

Do you treasure your teeth? I hope not.

He will jump up to kiss you and by god can that man put some oomph into a jump.

If he starts looking at you with a suspicious glint in his eyelight do yourself a favour and just lean down.

Stretch

Little spoons. That's his number one activity with you.

Due to his height, Stretch can't usually be the person who gets cuddled vs. does the cuddling so you are very exciting for him.

Love love loves rotting on the couch with you.

If you're a human, his favorite spot is to lay on your chest and doze while listening to your heartbeat.

If you're a Monster, it's more in the center of your sternum to listen to the magical buzz of your soul.

You will experience more pranks than you think you can bear. You know the plastic wrap across a doorframe prank? Yeah.

You have been lured into a false sense of confidence because if Stretch is tall, he wouldn't possibly pull that kind of bullshit on you right? He would have to trip his own trap right?

Don't underestimate Monster building codes. Those doorways are Tall. He has room.

After a certain point, you learn to just duck through every doorway.

It doesn't help.

[verosikastrikerstellaexcuser]

Stella, her existence for the sole purpose of birthing an heir, and Octavia:

I could see Stella absolutely wanting nothing to do with a kid she was only tjere to produce, and feeling absolutely horrified at having to lay an egg that she (probably, based off how dismissive in s2(but was that rewriting to make her seem more bitchy?)) disconnects emotionally from Octavia for several years and made it harder for them to connect, especially in the beginning.

The creeping guilt of "i wanted nothing to do with this,b ut she's my daughter, so i have to care" and struggling to find the line between "i have been mentally scarred but i shouldn't take it out on A Literal Child" and either then turning the anger inward (why do i hate something that came from me) or outward (this is also partially Stolas's fault because he played a part) and struggling to hide it from Octavia as she grew up.

The balance of hating the pathway to how Octavia was born vs trying to remember thag the child herself is innocent.

She finally finds a balance between the two, just for Stolas to upend their life for someone he brought into their bed. They could have, if either of them really tried, discussed it ages ago and set up a 'we are married for x reason, but here is y, z, a options for pur sexuality clashes and how we want to portray our life to others' but you get flat, 1 dimensional characters who only exist to prop up male characters.

Maybe in the beginning, Stella would have been open to a discussion about Stolas being gay and figuring out how to work with it. But it's all just a game to stolas ("i thought love would be fun" is the line i think of when it comes to Stolas & Stella's marriage. Unsure if it's from when he's singing in his library in the beginning of s2 or from jlmw music video) and Stella is no longer playing the game.

She's bitter, she's never had fun, she was there for one reason & one reason alone.

And it's such wasted potential to talk about how people who have kids suffer post partum and absolutely have a hard time connecting w kids they want, let alone kids that are the product of abusive & r*pe.

Is Stella a bad mother? We don't know because we aren't shown. Is there potential for her to suffer from the marriage and it affect her relationship with Via and make it 1000 times harder to connect, vs Stolas, who didn't have to carry(???) an egg (it's so confusing on the dynamics of egg birthing in this show. Don't just drop a single "glad the egg fell out" like. Give us details, world building, background, please) and thus can connect with a child easier?

And they were maximum 18 when Via was born, which makes all of it so much harder to process & deal with when you become a parent so young.

YES YES YES YES YES OH MY GOD YES YOU GET IT YOU UNDERSTAND.

SERIOUSLY... seriously seriously Stella is such a wasted opportunity to explore what happens when you force someone who doesn't want to bear a child to bear a child. They could have explored amazing stuff like not making her the best mother at first that only bonds with her daughter later due to postnatal disorder, and showing her feelings changing overtime as she comes to terms with losing her autonomy in place of gaining a daughter who didn't ask for any of this either and that shes going to make the most of. Just as 1 example. So much could have been explored...

and I'll just say it. Representation is important. But honestly. This show could have benefited more from more and better focus on other stuff like addiction and not just so much shipping/relationship stuff (tbf I'm talking about the het ones too but I feel like I have to preface in case anyone thinks this is me being annoyed at the existence of any ships/any gay ships at all, its not. Its just a wish some other stuff could get more of a focus because often the content sitting right there for it would have been better).

[septic-skele]

UT - It's Illegible Chicken Scratch

Summary: Papyrus' classmates think he's a tryhard. His teacher thinks he's not trying hard enough. Sans thinks he may need to do some research on dysgraphia.

A/N: In which I take that one line about Papyrus' puzzle notes (see title) and ruuuun with it

~

Papyrus had a…complicated relationship with his words.

Complicated: c-o-m-p-l-i-c-a-t-e-d. See, he knew how to spell it, unlike some of the other third grade students; he could recite the letters aloud without stumbling and recognize them when they were in a book with ease—so why couldn’t he put those very same letters down neatly on this expectant piece of paper?

His vocabulary (v-o-c-a-b-u-l-a-r-y) was supposed to be a point of pride. He and his brother were font-based by design; words were their specialty. Sans put his practice toward making even the smallest, most casual words more effective but Papyrus had always wanted to aim higher. Maybe it was the upper-caser in him; he devoured the puzzle of sounding out larger, longer syllables, echoing them over and over (even a little uncontrollably sometimes) until they settled just right in his mouth.

When he piped up to contribute to older monsters’ conversations, they would often exclaim that he was “so well spoken for his age!” Sans would look at him with such a fond warmth in his eyelights and reply, “Yep, that’s my bro. He’s the coolest.”

The other kids in his class didn’t seem to share the sentiment, not even after he offered to help them with the words of the day. He had hoped studying together would be the start to a friendship (or at the very least what Sans called a give-and-take relationship.) Maybe if they were friends, they would in turn help him in the areas of study where they all excelled and he might, theoretically, ever so slightly fall short.

Instead they accused him of thinking they were stupid, insulting them just because he knew they wouldn’t understand. They complained to the teacher that he was being a showoff, using all these fancy words to act like he was better than them.

Perhaps it had reminded his teacher of the bad mood she was in last week when Papyrus told her the spelling flash cards were too easy. Whatever the case may be, she had issued a challenge: “Well, if you’re so confident in using your words, you can practice your cursive with the fourth grade word list.”

It wasn’t the more advanced list that dropped Papyrus’ soul into the pit of his metaphorical stomach. It was that one particular word: cursive.

Reading and recitation were doable, give-and-take; he was given letters, words, phrases and took them with him for future use. Writing, however, was…not that. It was the far less fun kind of puzzle, too much giving with too much room for mistakes—and he made many, many mistakes.

The margins of the designated writing zone never moved yet somehow he always managed to over- or underestimate how much room he had on the paper, sentences skidding sideways. The level of concentration he needed to make letters fit between the lines was ridiculous and it usually led to him missing some crucial punctuation. The joints in his fingers ached with every painstaking swirl of the pencil, and that was when he put his all into typical uppercase.

Cursive was, true to the name, a curse, and his teacher was well aware. She couldn’t not be, considering the number of exasperated conversations she and Sans had about it after class. After just such an occasion this afternoon, Sans even put on the serious tone when they got home, cajoling Papyrus to explain what was wrong, to just be honest with him. If he had hurt his hand at some point and decided to hide it from him, if it had healed wrong and it was affecting his line work—

Some of their frustration must have rubbed off on him because Papyrus’ honesty was a little louder than necessary. “It didn’t heal wrong because I didn’t hurt it! Whenever I try to write, it hurts without being hurt! I can see—” That didn’t sit quite right in his mouth for the context. Hissing a sharp breath through his teeth, he adjusted. “I can vis-u-al-ize the words I want but my head can’t make my hand write them! Either hand. I’ve tried both!” When his brother’s eye sockets narrowed, his irritation gave way to pleading, his offending hands flailing at the equally offending worksheet. “Just look at it, Sans! I know those words and you know I know them! I can read them, I can say them, I just can’t make them!”

“You can’t,” Sans repeated, and though his tone was unreadable, it still stung. “Can’t”, however small it may be, was a word Papyrus rarely ever liked using, especially in regards to himself. He preferred to think with enough optimism and time, he could do anything! But this? Detailing every one of those curling, spiraling lines with no slips, no misjudging the size, no smudges or streaks?

“No, I…can’t.” Resisting the urge to hunch his shoulders, he lowered his gaze, took another sharp breath and tried to pretend it didn’t catch in his throat. “But…I can try harder. I can try really, really hard if it means my teachers will stop yelling at the both of us. And I apologize for yelling at you just now too.” That was rather hypocritical: h-y-p-o—

“Hey.”

Sans lightly nudged his mandible, coaxing him to peek back up. His sockets were still narrowed, still serious, but thankfully not disbelieving or angry.

“Just because you can’t do it doesn’t mean you aren’t trying. I’m an expert at not trying, remember? I think I’d know if you weren’t. And just because you’re trying real hard doesn’t mean you can’t have help. But if I wanna help, I need to know when something is hurting you. Cause your homework shouldn’t be doing that. Do your hands hurt every single time you write?”

“Not as much if it’s something short but…even then, the pencil doesn’t make the letters small enough to suit the smaller words. They sit right in my thoughts but not on the paper.”

“Huh. And your teacher, how often is she getting mad at you for this? As often as she gets mad at me?”

That sounded suspiciously like Sans using his casual words to achieve an effect Papyrus might not agree with (or even be privy to.) Why did it feel like he might get someone in trouble? “Only as often as I do it wrong…”

“Huh,” Sans exhaled again, and there was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it flash of anger, just as Papyrus happened to blink. “Well, seeing as she couldn’t be bothered to ask nicely, I don’t see why you should have to bother with this.”

“What? Why not? What does that mean?”

Sans shrugged, folding the paper with surprising neatness before tucking it into his jacket. “I’ll take care of it. I’ve slept through my third and fourth grade classes already; it ought to be a breeze.”

“Sans, you can’t just do my homework for me!” Papyrus sputtered incredulously. “That’s cheating! And it wouldn’t even be clever cheating, considering our very different, very well-known fonts!”

“Who said I was gonna do it for you? I’m just gonna supervise like Teach told me—heh, ‘like a real, proper guardian would’—while Papyrus does it.”

For a moment Papyrus had to uncharacteristically wonder if Sans had gotten enough sleep last night. “Right. Yes. Papyrus…which is me…who, as we just discussed, can’t do it.”

Sans’ only response to that was one of his annoyingly cryptic winks before he padded toward the stairs. “Our fonts are pretty recognizable, aren’t they?” he mused offhanded after three or four steps. “Couldn’t mistake ’em for anything but Comic Sans and Papyrus. We fonts are so recognizable, the computer’s got a database chalk full of ’em. In fact, I think I saw one under the P’s that looks juuust like you and it doesn’t even hurt. The wonders of technology!”

“Wha—Sans!” As soon as his brother took a shortcut out of sight, Papyrus was bounding toward the stairs, hollering after him. “That sounds like a lot of effort to not try while helping me, in the worst possible way!”

“Sorry, can’t hear you! Me and Papyrus are too busy studying real hard up here where it’s quiet,” Sans called down the hall. “And actually, we’re making so much progress and I’m so proud, I might just make a fancy printout of his work when he’s done to show your teacher!”

“Sans!”

Forgery: f-o-r-g-e-r-y.

[hareofhrair]

Art from the most recent ask in its own post. Shafan has a run in with a clown.

story under the cut

HH: =oh i've had run ins with m=ore'n a few cl=owns, n=one of em pleasant.

HH: best =one was a sweep =or s=o back. i was cruisin this lil shindig a friend =of a friend was thr=owin

HH: m=ost everyb=ody there was a rusty, but tha thing ab=out thr=owin a g=o=od party is

HH: cl=owns will just sh=ow up

HH: they just manifest there =or s=omethin s=o=on as things really kick off

HH: like the way bleatbeasts just show up at metal c=oncerts

HH: anyway everyb=ody kn=ows y=ou thr=ow a big en=ough party yer runnin tha risk a cl=owns deciding ta crash it

HH: but generally speakin cl=owns aint subtle and when they sh=ow up ya kn=ow what's happenin

HH: s=o i'm at this party and havin a real g=o=od time

HH: maybe a lil drunker than I =ought ta be

HH: when i sp=ot this Big B=oy lurkin in a c=orner b=o=oth

HH: and yall kn=ow i like em big

HH: s=o i slide in and intr=oduce myself

HH: i feel it's imp=ortant ta menti=on here that the lightin in this place was n=ot s=o g=o=od

HH: and als=o my eyesight leaves a lil s=omethin ta be desired

HH: by which i mean im blind as tha pr=overbial flyin squeakbeast

HH: s=o between that and bein pretty sl=oshed i d=ont n=otice anythin suspici=ous ab=out this gentleman

HH: i start talkin ta tha fella, and he's a bit quiet, aint sayin much

HH: but that's fine i can run my m=outh en=ough fer tha b=oth a us, and i d=o

HH: lil while later, i get ta askin him if he w=ouldn't like ta walk me h=ome, if ya gather my meanin

HH: he says that s=ounds like fun, and we slip =out tha back a tha j=oint

HH: i'm hangin =off his arm, havin tr=ouble walkin straight, when I l=o=ok up an get my first g=o=od gander at tha guy under a streetlight

HH: and i see greasepaint, and a big =ole grin

HH: that'll s=ober a fella up p=owerful fast let me tell ya

HH: n=ow i mighta just g=one al=ong with tha guy and b=olted at tha first good excuse

HH: but apparently i was t=o=o drunk ta manage my facial expressi=ons, cus he sees h=ow i'm l=o=okin at him and his smile if anythin just gets wider.

HH: finally n=oticed, did ya? he says. that mean i cain't walk ya h=ome n=o m=ore? =oh well, tha =other way w=oulda been m=ore fun, but we can still have a g=o=od time.

HH: and he drags me =off int=o an alley and pulls o=ut a club, ready ta splatter me acr=oss tha pavement like a p=opped water bal=o=on

HH: but i tend ta babble when i'm scared, and all =of a sudden i say

HH: hell nah, y'all can't kill me like this, it ain't even funny!

HH: where's tha w=ordplay? tha creativity?

HH: yer just g=onna smash me with a club in an alleyway?

HH: where's tha fuckin craftsmanship? where's tha art?

HH: and that actually makes him st=op fer a minute

HH: and he just l=o=oks at me fer a bit, an then he says

HH: kn=ow what, yer right. Culls =ought ta be gl=ori=ous in tha sight a tha messiahs =or s=ome shit

HH: and i say hey ya kn=ow what w=ould be funny

HH: im a real fast runner, faster than hell

HH: and there's a train what comes thr=ough here right at sunrise

HH: let's say y=ou challenge me t=o a race with tha train

HH: and if I beat it, y=ou let me g=o

HH: he starts sayin nah i aint just lettin y=ou run =off i aint that dumb

HH: and i say =of c=ourse, that's the funniest part

HH: bef=ore the train c=omes, ya tie my feet t=o tha tracks!

HH: he says h=ot damn yer right that is fuckin funny

HH: gets right giggly imaginin me tryin ta run and gettin flattened like an old penny

HH: so we head =on =over t=o tha train tracks

HH: and i say wait h=old =on, we need s=ome supplies first

HH: supplies, he says?

HH: i say yeah well, we need r=ope =obvi=ously, and an umbrella

HH: he says, an umbrella?

HH: i say =o c=ourse an umbrella, i t=old ya tha train c=omes right at sunrise. ya d=ont want ta be standin there burnin in tha sun iffin tha train is late, d=o ya?

HH: and he says yer right yer right i d=ont care fer sunburns

HH: s=o he gets s=ome r=ope and a big black umbrella and we get =on tha tracks and he start's tyin my feet t=o tha tracks, but he's kinda strugglin because he's h=oldin tha umbrella at tha same time

HH: and i say hang o=n, ya can't tie it like that, it's g=onna slip right o=ff. here, let me sh=ow ya, i learned s=ome sailin kn=ots fr=om a c=obalt that never c=ome l=o=ose

HH: So i start sh=owin him h=ow ta d=o it, but he ain't gettin it, s=o i say here, i'll tie my =own feet, and y=ou watch and practice =on your =own feet.

HH: s=o he starts tyin his =own feet ta tha tracks, but he's still fumblin =on acc=ount =of h=oldin tha umbrella, s=o i say, ya need b=oth hands, here let me h=old that f=or ya

HH: and he says thanks and hands me the umbrella and g=oes back ta tyin his feet ta tha tracks.

HH: n=ow =of c=ourse ab=out that time tha sun starts ta c=ome up, and right =on time the train whistle s=ounds in tha distance

HH: and tha cl=own l=o=oks up

HH: by which p=oint i'm already ab=out half a bl=ock away, runnin like hell itself is =on my heels

HH: but i was still cl=ose en=ough ta hear that m=otherfucker laughin, laughin like ta bust a gut, right up till tha n=oise a tha train dr=owned him =out

[alexanderlightweight]

🍋?

I'm not asking so i can prompt it next time wym

🍋 What’s your favorite spicier trope to write?

lol

i think we all know by now that i'm very into BDSM and dom!magnus and sub!alec so that is always a thing but that's not even necessarily sexual, just inherent so for spicy...

magnus teasing alec with his control. over alec, over his pleasure, over everything. alec's been fighting for control over his own life for so long and he can't trust anyone else with it but magnus. so i feel that's pretty intimate because alec can finally let go and relax and magnus gets to marvel at how much alec trusts and adores him.

magnus pushing alec to brink of his limits and then slowly easing him over because alec can't stop begging him for more.

uh... fucking on a battlefield tbh....

corpse desecration *cough* like, the reason magnus has that cloak of nephilim feathers, collected from over a thousand corpses... is literally so he can fuck alec on it. that's the entire point of me creating the cloak and i still haven't written that scene. because it needs to be very intense because it's pretty fucked up but alec still enjoys it and he's really into it. especially because 'his feathers and wings will never be added to the cloak' soooooo yup.

also look, @alxndrlightwoods (aka saeth) has a really amazing fic with magnus fucking alec by camille's corpse. it's amazing. it's a thing thats fun. blood and death and fucking are definitely things i have fun writing.

piercings, i have a fun prompt i'm waiting to fill with magnus have a jacobs ladder (again TMFAR frm saeth, amazing)

monsterfucking and nephilim/warlocks having different... phyiscal features compared t mundanes

i'm super into a/b/o in certain settings because it's a very primal culture and so like... i have meta about omega!alec literally just leaving a trail of heartless alphas (he ripped them ut with his bare hands) because they tried to seduce/claim him. omega!alec is always on the cusp of going feral because he's so done with the world around him

i write queer a/b/o so like, trans!dynamic or alpha/alpha and omega/omega is fun.... i got off track

orgasm delay/denial. cock-warming, public sex, intimacy.... kelpie!alec au is uh... very heavy kinkwise. like. tbh its more intense than saints & sinners which i think is my most intense verse with sex so far. if only because of how intense the power imbalance and dynamic is.

i really love predator/prey vibes between them and translating that into the bedroom... or whatever surface is available.

uh this got very disjointed and i hope it makes sense!

anyways i need to stp because @saryn-prime needs cuddles and they just took over my lap and they're not happy that my laptop is currently n their shulder.

<3 lumine

[truckfreaks]

so i replayed both chs of deltarune recently, and i can’t stop thinking about the end of ch1 where you walk around the town and talk to everyone, because talking to asriel’s old classmates reveals so much about his character in this universe that we just don’t know

and i couldn’t help thinking about how interesting it is that he’s the one that “got out” of their hometown, you know? he’s the one that “made it” or whatever, he went to school, he’s doing something with his life. when you talk to catty and bratty, they remember him as this cool, cute guy - the kind of dude everyone in a small town has a crush on. burgerpants remembers him as the kind of guy everyone wants to be friends with. his side of his and kris’ bedroom is littered with awards and trophies. it’s obvious that asriel was super popular during high school, good at everything, well liked... the kind of person that, when you live in a small town, you look at and say, “yeah, if any of us are gonna make something of themselves, it’s that guy.”

we know the events of undertale are separate from those of deltarune, but still sort of ... adjacently related, so any characterization of asgore and toriel “investing” more into asriel than into kris would require some kind of unknown, but adjacently related impetus. and we also know that certain “key aspects” of the original story are kinda reversed in DR compared to how they played out in UT, like catty and bratty absolutely hating each other and never being as tight as they were in UT. so what if chara’s “buttercup incident” was one such key event? what if, instead of kris eating the buttercups, it was asriel? this old theory points out that buttercups, when eaten, are poisonous to livestock. the implication is that, while they’re technically monsters, asgore gets very sick from eating them. and if you also look around a map of Hometown, there isn’t a yellow flower to be seen (with the exception of a single one in asgore’s bedroom implied to be from toriel’s bouquet). i think it’s possible asriel ingested the flowers as a child. i’m not yet up for speculating on *why* - whether it was a dare, or put in his food, or just typical “kids doing dumb shit for fun” situation - but i think toriel and asgore almost lost him. and as a result, especially in tori’s case, asriel was given every opportunity, every “win” - he was pushed *hard*. there’s no real indication for why tori and asgore got divorced in DR, since the defining moment in UT was that asgore declared war on humans after chara and asriel died. 

so what would the impetus be in DR? divorce rates are statistically higher for people dealing with an ill child, and it could be that tori and asgore - implied to be type A and type B in the DR universe, respectively - had wildly different reactions to asriel’s recovery and, subsequently, how he should be raised after the fact. they went through something traumatic, and it changed them, their relationship with their child, and their relationship with each other. it’s also implied that the family is pretty religious, too, in a way that mirrors catholicism - in which divorce is typically frowned upon. i think asriel grew up shouldering this pretty heavy pressure (and maybe even guilt?) to be the best he possibly could be, having been given a “second chance”, even though him living drove his parents apart (not that they wouldn’t have for some other reason, but a lot of children of divorce internalize in this way and become overachievers). he had his friends, he snuck around, he did normal teenager bullshit ... but at the end of the day he busted ass to excel in everything to “get out”, perhaps because he felt he had something to prove by being given a second chance at life. or, perhaps, to escape the unbearable pressure of being a big fish in a small pond.

[thebtswritersclub]

Happy Birthday Rid!

Today we celebrate the exciting birthday to our lovely @taegularities! Through thick and thin, Rid is there for us, rooting for us and helping us with our many tasks. Her empathy and strong work ethic help us so much! BWC wouldn’t be the same without you!

 Also a special thanks to @missgeniality for making all of our graphics!

Happy birthday to my fellow kitten! I’ll keep the sap to our dms, b ut I hope you have an amazing year of growth and health. And hope you can create as much as you want because we all love to read it. Here to another year of cheating on Taehyung uwu

- Siya ( @missgeniality )

riid! my beloved, I wish you a truly great birthday. I can't believe how long it's been since we met, we've shared so much fun ever since then and it's a joy whenever we get to chat. thank you so much for being the wonderful friend you are and hyping me up in every aspect of my life, I'm so grateful to have met you and our bond goes further than being writers - though, of course, I will never miss a chance to simp over bts with you and brainstorm our work!! you always brighten up my day and I love you endlessly, wishing you the best day  ily 

- Ru ( @btsmosphere )

HAPPY BIRTHDAY RID YOU STUNNINGLY INCREDIBLE LAND MERMAID I wish you the happiest of birthdays, full of people you love and make you happy, no worries during this day. Since we're writing this in advance, I do hope Tae posts a thirst trap in honor of your day ILY and again have a happy bday

- Rose ( @biaswreckme )

HAPPY BIRTHDAY RID I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!! THANK YOU FOR BEING A PART OF MY LIFE AND ALWAYS LOOKING OUT FOR ME EVEN IN MIDST THE CRAZINESS OF LIFE AND CARING SO MUCH  I HOPE YOU GET ALL THE GIFTS YOU WANT AND AMAZING CAKES!!! HOPE YOU HAVE A BLAST I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU

- Melody ( @hoebii )

Happy birthday RID!!! I'm so glad we became friends! I hope this year is more kickass than any other year! I hope you accomplish all your goals and make the world your oyster! Thank you for being you and for existing

- Mars ( @joheunsaram )

Miss Riddle! I love you so so so much. I can’t believe that we have been friends for so long (almost 3 years)! Time flies so fast and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Our conversations and chats make my days and energize me, they give me great comfort, they get me curious about the world. You’re so hardworking and smart and I am so honored to be your friend and teammate at BWC. Your kindness, care, and focus on growth truly shines in just about everything that you do. I’ve had the honor of watching and growing with you over these past three years and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Happy birthday, bb! I love you so much!

- Lillia ( @moccahobi )

happy birthday rid! i feel like there’s so many things i could say and i don’t even know where to start. i guess i’ll start with the first thing i noticed about you: your writing. before i even had my blog, i would read your works on a little burner account. a teacher once told me that their are certain aspects of writing that can’t be taught. whatever that is, you have it. there’s a certain charm and rhythm to every word you type. the way you craft a scene, or characterize through subtle gestures, can’t be replicated. seriously, you have a gift. it’s something so raw and pure. i hope you cherish that forever. after making my blog and joining the net, i got to know you as a person a bit more. i felt like i knew you through your work, but you were even sweeter than anticipated. whenever i needed advice, you were there. the kindness you carry yourself with is felt. i mean it. the positive impact you’ve had on the net and community as a whole is bigger than you know. whenever i ask for recommendations, you’re mentioned. i know it can be tough sometimes, but please never lose sight of how loved and cared for you are. especially today. happy birthday!

- Kiki ( @chryblossomjjk )

Riiiidddd, I know we're rarely on discord at the same time, but I wish you all the best on your special day! You're an absolute delight to talk to, and you deserve all the best things in life

- Gina ( @chimknj )

Rid!

Hey Love! Happy birthday beautiful!

You know how much I love you already but again I freaking love you. You are so talented and tenacious and caring and funny and just such a ray of sunshine  every time we talk. A lot of people think they know you when they don’t and make assumptions that are not true but you sweep it all off so gracefully and just aah!! U r one of those people who always has my back when I am low and that friendship and love means so much to me. U are an amazing woman and I can’t wait to see how you grow this year. Happy birthday darling!

- Aditi ( @ditttiii​ )

Dear Rid, my darling Rid. You are such a light in the lives of everyone who knows you. I am so grateful for your friendship. You are an amazing human who deserves nothing but love and light. I hope this year is amazing for you

- Mom

[princessmia-tarot]

Hello there !!I'm a new follower and I hope you're doing great!! 😁 May I have a reading on who is my future husband ? Like what he'll be like as a person please ? 🥰 I'm C⛵️ and thank you so much!!! 😻💙

Hi C,

What I am seeing for you is that your future husband is a very clean and neat person. You guys are cosmically connected. I don't believe you guys have met yet. He is very independent and likes to focus on himself and his own growth. He might like going to the gym and eating healthy. You guys may meet over text. July is significant for your relationship, whether that be either of your birth months, when you meet, when you start dating or when you marry or any combination of events. He may drive a truck/ute. He is a proud man and loves to celebrate both his and your accomplishments. He may be blond. Your meeting will come after an ending. He seems to be the kind of man to do the dishes after you cook, carries his weight around the house. You guys may disagree on some things and he seems a little hotheaded. He has a lot of courage. He seems to have gone through some hard times and when you guys meet he will be on his recovery journey. I see brown eyes. He may have 'run away' from his hometown when you guys meet, looking for a direction change. He might be a volunteer, possibly a firefighter as I see strong here too. He may dye his hair. I have the letter B. He has a good will and is a fun guy. He may have issues blocking emotions but he is committed to growing.

xx

Mia ♥

- - - - - - - - - 

★ To see status of free readings click here

★ LOVE how much information is in these free readings? Check out my ETSY to get even more information, clarification and messages

[fighting-these-demons]

Ka*uma is so G*nder C*nf*rming that it's funny turning the idea of C*wE*e as a f*ce cl*im for him in my mind.

Just because of the context of how C*wE*e's channel was for the first several months that I followed him vs how his channel is NOW. 😂

What if Ka*uma went on a journey of self discovery in his 30s while playing D*R with his boyfriend Ku*ama?

What if as soon as home pads came out they started with duct taping them to the floor before they both got curious and industrious and started fiddling with making their own DIY pads?

Like starting with the Ply W*od Soft Pad M*d and going from there?

What if he first did it as a joke and then felt like "Hey, actually, this is fun!"

What if he discovered Ed*ie Iz*ard around the same time? (He likes Meg*llica so much I'm convinced he paid attention in English and takes his own lessons. He'd be able to follow a set on Y*uT*b* probably)

What if what started as a fun dance game that got both of their hearts pumping turned into an important part of his self discovery?

What if Ku*ama broke into an arcade one night and took apart the dance pads for part information?

Or managed to seduce a Kon*mi Technician who gave him the details?

What if Ku*ama found similar parts or ordered custom made parts directly from chip and part manufacturers and parts sellers instead of going through Kon*mi? He went straight to the source?

What if he does all this just so Ka*uma can dance in cute skirts and c*spl*y c*st*mes as much as he wants to? What if he bought cute c*spl*y c*st*mes for him?

What if Ka*uma was g*nder non c*nf*rming and Ku*ama did everything he could to encourage that?

(Again censoring to try to keep this out of the tags.)

I'll have to find my other post to see what I named this AU for the archival reblog. I may wait til like 3 am to uncensor the post for a clean archival reblog though.

[the-firebird69]

and down there is really HEAVY metal real stuff tanks at 60 miles and tons of them too. and mac proper. and yeh heavy metal water..tons of it shortly. and they are all excited. ready no. but mean. and shall forget their stuff ehre yup we wont. adn willb e after macs hard shortly if they can get it up and o ut and to the right place lol

Hera lots of ifs lol Zues

we do this we see it

Trump

Olympus

it is cool but not ours. we see you. free our ships fight your own damnit they are so fn huge so huge damnit

bja

we fight now and get there this guy is huge wont say is so much larger ok mb 23 foot tall and huge tons heavy ok our houses would all break all the floors concrete too. and no cant go into office buildings. nope only bunkers can support him.. massive frme coming up shortly and all will stand off finally he says ahahah bring it bro and joking reall for us

brad

and i t was funb eing big but no he is big we were not we have been large nd really large i have been over 30' and it is no fun with you peeps

brad again

we hav too

bja

some huge

trump

they have b een up there 800 foot but not normally and frail as you see in jack the giant slayer always hurting sickly. nope have not seen huge no. and fear it good he says we use it and shall. our crime being strong yours being weak yes but being strong is no crime

Thor Freya

we use this here too the ocnstatn attacks on him an her mental too.

Zig Zag

Olympus