#all my other fics have more than 1000 hits

[rainypebble07]

It's silly because Mike Wheeler's Guide to the Undead is my favorite fic that I've ever written (I believe it's my best work writing-wise) and somehow it has fewer hits than all my other fics. Even IWABT (Rewritten), which just came out and already surpassed it.

Idk what I need to do to get you guys to read this fic.

It's super cute because it takes place right after season 1, but here's the thing. The premise of the fic is that Will actually died in the Upside Down, but then Mike is at his grave and witnesses him come back to life as a zombie. It's LITERAL ZOMBIE BOY.

Mike helps him becuse they need to figure out what's going on, but they can't tell the adults bc they'll tell the lab, so it's super pre-byler-blyer (miwi?) and so adorable and heartwarming but also kind of angst but also sweet and Nancy and Mike interact a lot and Dustin and Lucas are there and everything.

Other reasons you should read it:

There's a scene where they have a heart-to-heart while sitting on top of a crypt in a foggy graveyard

it has a very happy ending

Dustin hating on Ted Wheeler

Troy Walsh gets what he deserves

NANCY AND MIKE SIBLING INTERACTIONS I REPEAT!

Dr. Owens shows up???

It could technically happen and not change the rest of the stranger things plot

Jonathan and Mike solidarity at Will's funeral???

It's from Mike's POV, but it's young Mike so it's ok

Multiple people told me it was one of the best fics they've ever read

Like, idk what else to say other than it is my pride and joy and I have no idea why all my other fics have so many more hits than it! I love it and I think it deserves so much more hype than a lot of my other fics.

Okay, that's the end of my PSA... but if you were intrigued... maybe give it a chance?

[likeumeanit9497]

the re-do, pt. 2 | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: one more time won't hurt anyone...right?

warnings: SMUT!!!; established friendship; unprotected p in v; fingering; dirty talk; choking; hair pulling; slapping; sneaking around; 18+

notes: here it isssss. in honour of almost hitting 1000 followers (WHAT?!?!?!), i wanted to release a part 2 to my most loved fic!! im currently posting this less than 24 hours before i leave for my trip to europe (yay!!), but unfortunately it'll be the last one i'll be posting for a while. saying that, i'll be back home august 1st and knowing me ill want to get right back into writing, so pls feel free to continue to drop requests over the next few weeks (as long as ur okay with waiting for a while!!!). thanks so much for all the love ya'll, ur the ones who make this whole thing so much fun!!

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

Walking up to the triplets’ front door, I didn’t knock before turning the knob and entering the warm, familiar home. Nick, Matt, and Chris were finally home in Boston for a few weeks, and I was so excited to see them for the first time in months. They had just landed this afternoon, and although I told them I could give them some time to settle in, I couldn’t stop myself from driving over to theirs as soon as Nick sent me a photo of Trevor; proof that they were home and settled in enough.

“There she is!” Mary-Lou’s cheerful voice greeted me once I walked up the steps and into the kitchen. I didn’t have a chance to say hello before her arms were wrapped tightly around my frame; embracing me in a comforting hug. “How are you sweetheart?” She asked once she released me from her grip. I smiled. “I’m good! I’ve missed you all though.” I replied as she rubbed her hands up and down my arms affectionately. “I’ve missed you too! You hungry? I’m just finishing up some Shepard’s pie.” She walked back over to the oven, opening it slightly to check on its contents. “You know I could never turn down your Shepard’s pie.” I laughed.

“Where are the guys?” I asked, peering at the closed kitchen door. “Oh, they’re in the living room. I had to lock them out of here, they were driving me nuts!” She chuckled, pulling the casserole out of the oven. “You go ahead.” She urged, gesturing to the closed door. Sending her a warm smile, I opened the door and my eyes immediately fell on my three best friends sitting together on the couch in the living room.

“Y/n!” Shouted Nick, throwing his hands up in the air from his place on the couch. Matt and Chris both simultaneously peeled their eyes away from the screen and looked in my direction; their faces lighting up in smiles immediately before they all stood up to greet me. I hurried over to them and went in to hug Nick first, Chris next, then finally Matt.

I hadn’t seen Matt since the last time I visited them in Los Angeles, which also happened to be the time when him and I had fucked after filming their rated r Youtube video. Just like the time we had lost our virginities to each other, we hadn’t let the sex interfere with our friendship at all, and things hadn’t really changed in any way. Obviously, thanks to Matt’s failure at muting the Discord server, Chris and Nick were much too aware of exactly what had happened that night. But besides the painfully awkward morning after when I walked out of Matt’s room to find them eating breakfast — both avoiding eye contact with me entirely — things were fine with them as well. Once we spoke to Nick and Chris about it, we had convinced them both — as well as ourselves — that what had happened that night was simply a fleeting moment of nostalgia brought on by talking about our first time together.

But I would be lying if I said that as soon as I felt Matt’s hands on me I didn’t feel a shiver down my spine; or that when he whispered a breathy “I miss you” in my ear, I didn’t want to tear all of his clothes off right then and there. The sex we had that night, although spontaneous and probably wrong, was the best sex I had ever had. Once I left Los Angeles and made it back to Boston, I had fucked a handful of other guys — just trying to come even slightly close to feeling the way I had that night — only to be left feeling more and more disappointed. Matt and I knew each other far too well, and in some way it was like our bodies were tied to the other — first by losing our virginities to one another but then furthered by the crazy sex we had years later. I had accepted the fact that sex just wasn’t ever gonna be like that again, but now feeling him pressing against me, all of that acceptance just immediately vanished.

“How’s mom doing on dinner?” Chris asked, startling me out of my trance and walking in the direction of the kitchen door as I pulled away from Matt. “I think it’s almost done. But I was told you were banished from the kitchen, so stay away please.” I replied, walking over to him and tugging on his arm to draw him away from the door. Just then, the door opened and Mary-Lou appeared holding her own plate of food. “Please don’t destroy my kitchen.” Was all she said as she walked to the dining table with her plate, sighing as she did.

𓆩☆𓆪

After we all polished off the Shepard’s pie, we ended up on the couch watching a hockey game. I had curled up in a blanket between Matt to my right and Chris to my left, and was bathing in the contentment of just sitting with them in their family home, just like we did as kids. Even though I couldn’t give a shit less about whatever was happening on the screen, I couldn’t help but smile when one of them would scream, curse, or cheer as the game continued. As Chris was doing just that, I was pulled from my languid stupor by Matt tugging on the blanket that was wrapped around me; clearly wanting to share.

After spending some time with the guys, my filthy thoughts of Matt began to dissipate. After months of not seeing them, I had far too much time to stew over all of the flashbacks I got; causing me to create a certain image of him in my mind that had differed to the one I had of him before. But, after spending time with him in-person, I was reminded of the fact that he’s the same old Matt that I’ve known for years, and I was just too caught up in that one night.

Then, as if he was reading my mind, I felt fingertips gently graze my right thigh under the blanket. Immediately, my body began to react, and every place he touched felt like it was being set on fire. I gulped, and adjusted myself slightly before forcing my eyes to focus on the screen in front of me; deciding that ignoring these touches was the best thing that I could do. Still, he was relentless. His hand continued to travel all across my thigh, just a whisper of contact as if he knew it would drive me crazy. I shuddered, but played it off by pulling the blanket against me as if I was cold. Even though I knew he could tell that I was affected by his touch, I knew that my lack of acknowledgement was surely driving him crazy. My hunch was confirmed when he brushed his fingers lightly against my clothed heat; causing me to intake a sharp breath that I had to immediately hide with a cough.

This caught Chris’ attention, and he fixed his gaze on me. “You okay Y/n?” He asked, and I nodded frantically. “Mhmm. Just a cough.” My response was hitched as Matt’s fingers continued to tease me, and as soon as Chris fixed his gaze back on the tv, I grabbed his hand under the blanket and held it still; turning to give him a sharp glare. Once I turned to face him, I was met with a taunting smirk that caused something to stir inside of me. He then used his eyes to wordlessly gesture to the staircase; clearly proposing that we go upstairs.

I’m not sure how I gained the self control, but somehow I was able to shake my head sternly before drawing my attention once again back to the game. His hand stayed still, but it still rested on my thigh and I could feel myself vibrating under his touch. Then, he retracted his hand from the blanket and I had to stop myself from groaning from the loss of contact; knowing that I shouldn’t want to feel it again. From the corner of my eye, I saw him unlock his phone and felt myself relax slightly knowing that he had something to distract him.

Think again.

I felt my own phone vibrate in the pocket of my hoodie, and reaching under the blanket, I pulled it out to find a text from no other than Matt.

Matt: I need you

I had to fight to keep my jaw from dropping at his text, and I turned to face him but found him looking straight ahead at the game. Sighing, I decided to respond over text after turning my brightness all the way down to keep Chris from catching a glimpse.

Y/n: matt. we can’t.

I heard his phone vibrate beside me, and kept my gaze away from him as he picked it up. I only had to wait a few seconds for a response.

Matt: Yes we can

Matt: Please Y/n.

The clear desperation in his texts went straight to my core, and I felt myself on the verge of dissolving into a puddle right then and there. To make things even worse, Matt snaked his hands back under the blanket, grabbing my own and drawing it towards the crotch of his jeans. There, his cock was already rock hard, and I really had to keep myself from straddling him right there. I turned to my left to get a quick glance at Nick and Chris beside me. Nick was curled onto the couch, seemingly sound asleep, and Chris was fully entranced by the hockey game. Just then, a commercial break came on, and I turned to face Matt and gave him a soft nod. Immediately, a sinister smile crossed his face before he put his phone away and cleared his throat.

“Oh my god Y/n I forgot to show you the clothes I bought before I left LA. Remember you texted me earlier today telling me you wanted to see?” His lie fell from his mouth effortlessly, and if I didn’t know that he had ulterior motives I would never come even close to feeling suspicious. Without missing a beat, I followed along in his little lie. “Oh yeah! Where are they?” I responded, doing everything I could to keep my tone as nonchalant as his. “Up in my room, I haven’t unpacked yet. Wanna go see them now?” I bit my lip to keep myself from smiling. “Sure.” Was all I was able to say in response before hurriedly standing up from the couch. Matt shifted slightly under the blanket for a moment, obviously tucking his boner into the waistband of his pants so that it wouldn’t be noticeable, before following me towards the stairs. “Don’t be long!” Shouted Chris from behind us, “Ya’ll are gonna miss a good ass game.”

Quickly, the two of us climbed the stairs, doing our best to keep our composure until we were behind closed doors. We rushed into Matt’s bedroom, him entering before me, and I turned to quickly shut the door. Before I could even face his room, Matt pinned me to the door and his lips were on mine. A groan immediately fell from his lips as I opened my mouth to grant his tongue access; losing all sense of control as his hands roamed every inch of my body. My own hands flew to his hair, holding his face against mine as the kiss deepened even more. Our tongues swirled around each other, our mutual hunger for one another taking an almost literal form.

One of Matt’s hands travelled up my chest, tearing my hoodie up over my head in the process, before attaching to my throat. I gasped at the pressure, feeling my panties flood with arousal, and he tugged at my bottom lip with his teeth as he pulled away from the kiss; gazing down harshly at me. “How many guys have you fucked since I saw you last.” His voice was gravelly with lust, and his tone was so ominous that if I hadn’t known Matt for as long as I had, I would be afraid. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my cheek as he slapped it. “Answer me, Y/n. How many?” I couldn’t keep the small smile from travelling to my lips from how turned on he was making me, but finally I was able to get myself to respond. “A few.” His pupils dilated.

“Oh yeah? How were they?” He was smirking, and I was thrown off by his words. Again, in my silence he slapped my cheek. At that, I couldn’t keep the lustful squeal from falling from my lips. “T-they were okay.” I lied, feeling myself tremble against the doorframe. At that, his thumb that had been soothing my sore cheek traveled to my mouth, pressing down on my lips and encouraging me to open up. I obliged, letting his thumb rest on my tongue before slowly wrapping my lips around it and sucking lightly. Matt’s eyes were glued to my mouth, but he continued speaking. “Just okay, huh?” He knew what he was doing, and I did as well, but in the state I was in I had lost all impulse control; so I fell for his trap.

“None were as good as you, Matty.”

I batted my eyelashes as I spoke, and immediately his lips were back on mine. Our mouths moved in sync as his tongue dominated mine, and I relished in the familiar taste of him. His burning desire for me fuelled my own, and as I continued to kiss him I felt myself growing more and more needy. As I released a frustrated groan into his mouth, I felt his hand travel to the waistband of my jeans where he hurriedly worked at the button and zipper. As soon as he peeled the rough material down my legs, his hand went to my heat; causing me to release a sharp breath.

“Mmm. So wet, just like last time.” He purred, dragging his mouth away from mine and down my neck; dropping wet kisses in its path. I was shaking from his touch, and subconsciously I widened my legs to give him better access to my aching core. Noticing this, he released a husky chuckle before slowly rubbing two fingers along my folds. “You missed this, didn’t you?” I immediately nodded my head as I nibbled at my bottom lip, needing him to touch me more. “I knew it.” His fingers slowly began circling my clit then, drawing satisfied moans from my mouth. “Yeah. I bet you touch yourself thinking of that night in LA,” His mouth was nibbling at my neck just below my ear, and the heat from his breath caused goosebumps to raise on my skin and my nipples to harden. “And I bet you pretend that your fingers are mine.”

Just as the words left his lips, he plunged two fingers up into me, causing me to gasp in pleasurable shock. Immediately, his fingers went to work curling up to my spongey g-spot and forcing my knees to buckle. Desperate for more contact, I wrapped a leg around his waist so that his fingers could reach even deeper into me. Hushed moans fell thoughtlessly from my mouth, and I prayed that no one in the house could hear them. I gripped helplessly onto the back of Matt’s neck as he rested his forehead against my collar bone, putting all of his effort into his plunging fingers.

“You feel good sweetheart?” He asked, his words coming out in short bursts as he continued his movements. “S-so g-good.” I replied carelessly, arching my back off of the door as I felt tension like a stretched rubber band grow in my stomach. Aching from the pressure, I reached in between my legs and began frantically rubbing my clit; desperately chasing my high. After just a brief moment, Matt looked down between my legs and, upon realizing what I was doing, slapped my hand out of the way and replaced it with his own. His fingers worked on my clit and my core simultaneously, and I lost all control over the erotic noises that poured out of my mouth.

“Shh.” Matt demanded, placing his own mouth on mine in a motionless kiss to stifle my moans. The stimulation was almost too much to handle, and I felt myself teetering on the edge of an overwhelmingly strong orgasm. “G-gonna cum.” I managed to spew out against Matt’s open mouth, and he hummed in response; keeping his pace on my heat steady. “Look at me while you cum, Y/n.” Matt’s voice was commanding, and without thinking twice I opened my pinched eyes and was met with his focused yet aroused gaze just before being overtaken by an earth-shattering orgasm.

As pleasure rippled through my body, my blurry vision never veered from his face as his fingers fucked me through my high. I bit my lip so hard that I left indents to suffocate my stream of moans before they could leave my lips. I felt myself squirt, the pressure that had built up inside of me immediately being relieved, and as I did he removed his one hand from my core and used his other to continue rubbing my clit so that the fluid sprayed all over the front of him and down my legs.

As I was still trembling through my high, I watched as Matt used his free hand to yank his jeans and boxers down his legs before plunging his hard cock into me. “Fuck.” We both gasped in unison as he sunk every inch through my walls, shuddering from the immediate pleasure that we both felt. Matt stayed still for a moment, clearly collecting himself, before pounding into me strenuously. Grasping onto his shoulders in order to stay grounded, I muttered nonsense as his cock slammed into my g-spot relentlessly.

“Fuck. Missed this pussy so fucking much.” Matt groaned in my ear, causing me to cry out as he drove his cock harder and harder into me; so hard that my head began smacking against the door frame. Suddenly, Matt’s hands snaked down to my ass, cupping it in his grasp and lifting me up. Still inside of me, he began walking me towards his bed on the far side of the room, where he placed me on the end of the bed and spun me around. I lay there like a rag doll as I let him reposition me into doggy, before I felt him slide his dick back through my opening.

“Jesus Christ.” I moaned, the new position deeper than the last as I felt every inch of him stretch out my walls and reach even further into me. Matt grabbed a fistful of my hair and I cried out as he used his grip to pull my head up off of the bead. With my back pressed against him, he covered my mouth with his hand as he peppered my sensitive neck with wet kisses. “You love my cock, don’t you baby?” He asked in a rough voice against my ear, and I nodded. Suddenly, his hand made contact with my throat and he tightened his fingers around it again. “Words, Y/n.” He said tauntingly, and I whined. “Y-yes. I love it Matt.” I managed to reply before he loosened his grip on both my throat and my hair, allowing my body to fall back onto the bed.

His hands found my hips, and he held them tightly as he continued thrusting into me. His pace was growing slightly choppier, and I smiled to myself maniacally, knowing that he was feeling good. As his rhythm slowed, I began moving my own hips up and down to meet his length. Noticing what I was doing, Matt stopped his own movements and allowed me to fuck myself on his cock. I heard his heavy breathing behind me as I continued to throw myself down on it, picking up the pace with each pump.

His hands gripped my hips tighter before he spoke. “Mmmm, slow down honey, gonna cum soon if you keep doing that.” I smiled to myself once again, and even let out a small chuckle as I continued at the same quick pace; wanting to make him feel good. The sound of wet skin slapping skin filled the space between us as I worked his cock up and down my walls, and I felt another orgasm approaching down my spine. “Matty, gonna cum again.” I whined as the build up became un-ignorable. “Me too. Turn around. Wanna see that pretty face while you take it.” His words went straight to my core, and I struggled to find the strength to do exactly what he said.

With his help, I flipped around so that I was now on my back looking right up at his naked frame. He gazed down at me with eyes so dark and filled with lust that I almost gasped from the stark difference from the Matt that I typically saw. Leaning over me, he drove his length into me again, grabbing onto my tits as he did; making me see stars. Matt grabbed onto my legs and bent them at the knees before pressing them down and allowing his cock so much access to the deepest part of my core that I almost cried in addictive pain. “You want me to cum in you baby?” He asked, his voice a whole octave lower than usual due to his aroused state. I nodded, before remembering to use my words. “P-please cum in me.” I added, feeling my own orgasm causing my walls to already begin to convulse slightly. Holding onto my knees tightly, Matt’s jaw went slack before he released a guttural moan, enough to push me over the edge for the second time tonight.

With his cock pulsing inside of me, I shook uncontrollably as my second orgasm tore through me without mercy. I clung onto anything that I could as I fought the urge to scream profanities out at the top of my lungs as my walls milked his shaft dry. Matt continued to thrust into me slowly, pushing all of his cum deep inside as he helped me come down from my high. Once my moans halted, he planted a soft kiss to my hand resting on his chest before slowly pulling his cock out of me; watching the mix of his and my cum drip from my opening.

Walking over to his closet for what I assumed was a towel, he chuckled. Still catching my breath and recovering from my tornado of an orgasm, I struggled to lift myself off of the bed. “What’s so funny?” I asked as I watched him walk over with a towel just as I suspected. Still smiling, he shook his head as he began cleaning me up. “Nothing. It’s just that shit is way too good.” I laughed myself at his words, because I unfortunately agreed. “It probably wasn’t the best idea.” I began as I stood on shaky legs to retrieve my lost articles of clothing. “The first time was purely practical. The second could be called an accident. But a third time? There’s no explaining that away.” I said as I dressed myself.

“What?” He started, walking over to where I was standing to retrieve his own pants. “You’re the one that said that good friendships include fucking each other every once in a while.” I rolled my eyes. I had said that in Los Angeles, but had meant it as a joke at the time. “I don’t know if fucking every time we’ve seen each other constitutes as ‘once in a while’.” I replied, running my hands through my messy hair in an attempt to remedy my fucked out appearance. With a sheepish smirk on his face, he shrugged. “I don’t know, I think it’s working out fine, don’t you?” I couldn’t contain my smile at this, giving away that I agreed. “And besides, no one has to know about this time. No brothers barging in, no Discord servers being left on. No one knows so there’s no need for an explanation this time.” He pulled me to his chest and hugged me for a moment, and I instantly felt more reassured.

“Ready to go? I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see the score.” I laughed before pulling away from the hug and heading to his bedroom door. We walked down the stairs in a single file, and walked back into the living room with the intention of looking as inconspicuous as possible. Nick was still sound asleep, but Chris was wide awake, still staring at the tv. He was suspiciously quiet, but I allowed myself to believe that it was just because he was locked into the game, so I nonchalantly sat down on the couch beside him. Just as Matt settled onto the couch to my right, Chris cleared his throat before speaking. “So, Y/n. What was your favourite piece?” I turned to face him in confusion, and mentally scrambled to try to figure out what the fuck he was talking about. “The fuck?” I asked just as Matt pinched my thigh gently under the blanket.

As I realized that he was talking about the excuse that Matt and I had made to go upstairs, I watched as Chris’ eyes shot open and he pointed a finger between me and Matt. “I fuckin’ knew it!” I tried to speak, but I was completely incapable of forming a coherent sentence; let alone a believable lie. I heard Matt groan to my right. “You two fucked again didn’t you!” Still, silence.

Our lack of retaliation was enough to give Chris the answer he needed, and he rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ, you guys are a couple of dogs.” He turned back to face the screen, but not before dramatically scooting a few centimetres away from me on the couch. I slowly turned my head to face Matt, and found him closing his eyes and biting his lip to stifle a laugh. At this, I had to cover my mouth to to the same, and I prayed that Chris couldn’t see my shoulders shaking as I laughed silently. My silent laugh seemed to be contagious, because I watched as Matt’s body began to tremble in laughter as his hand went back to casually resting on my thigh under the blanket.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[ambrosiagoldfish]

hi! can i request headcanons of Adam x Male Angel! Reader who is sweet, kind and never curses? preferly sfw and nsfw but if u don't write smut for Male Reader, that's fine!

hope u have a Nice day <3

Adam x Kind Angel Reader HC’s

Warnings: General Adam TW’s, NSFW in latter half of post, He/Him pronouns with Male Genitalia. Slight Degradation/dirty talk. Fluff + Smut

Request Box: Open

Word Count: 820

A/n: thank you so much for the request! I had a lot of fun with this one! I did make it on the shorter side but that’s only because it’s quite difficult to make Headcanon’s 1000+ words without other characters but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! Also I decided to make this little header thing for fics! I’ve seen a few others do it and the GIF’s I normally use are becoming a hassle to find. Let me know if you guys like it!

SFW

Oh boy, this relationship really is a match that could only be made in heaven. No one would have expected Adam to date a man who is the complete opposite of him. If anything, people expected someone like him or even Lute!! But you? They never could have predicted that.

But what can you do, opposites do attract.

You’re always being so kind to him, telling him he looks handsome, helping him with any and all work he might have to do, and on top of it you bring him gifts and trinkets! Not to mention all the delicious treats you get him that are almost as sweet as you.

And to be honest, this really messes with Adam, cause you’re literally so sweet and thoughtful but he doesn’t have anything to give you in return besides sex. At least that’s what he thinks but in reality he gives you so much more than he gives himself credit for.

He plays you songs on the guitar, takes you out to fancy restaurants, and over all treats you with love and affection than any other has. But even if none of that was true, you don’t do anything and everything for him because you want something in return. You love Adam completely unconditionally.

The no cursing thing is something that genuinely gets on his nerves. Cause like, he could never. This man has the mouth of a sailor and the delicacy of a bull in a china shop. Which is one of the traits you love about him, that he says what he wants. But also you’re just like “Sir, this is not what The Father intended-“

“Neither was putting my dick in another guys ass but look, I’m still here bitch!”

And it especially bugs Adam, if instead of cursing, you replace swears with other words. Like the other day you stubbed your toe when landing on ground and Adam had fully expected for you to do what he does, which is scream the loudest swear and be pissed off at everyone for 20 minutes. But instead….

“OW Fudging chocolate chip-“

“JUST SAY FUCK”

So, ever since that day, Adam has sworn to one day take your ‘cursing virginity’, at least that’s what he calls it. And he try’s so hard to do so, which is a slight bit of trouble cause he doesn’t want to like, be a complete douche to you.

So until he figures out a way to get you to curse, he’s pretty stumped at the moment. But still, he absolutely adores you.

NSFW

Oh Boy x2

Everything I said previously still stands if not double the amount. This man wants to do the👏Most👏Unholiest👏Things👏To👏You👏

Loves to see your kind and sweet personality slowly crumble because of his cock.

‘Who knew you could be such a slut?’

He loves that your personality carries over during sex, you give him everything you’ve got and then some. You want to do your best for him after all.

Speaking of which, if you worship him in any way that man is cumming IMMEDIATELY. He really just wants to feel like he’s above everyone else, and Surprise surprise, he has a praise and you being the, oh so thoughtful person you are, you make sure to completely indulge that aspect of him.

You babble so much about how good his cock feels hitting your prostate over and over again. How well he’s making you feel like like the Good Boy he is. It really gets it him going.

Remember how I said he’s trying to make you lose your ‘Cursing Virginity’? Yeah well, this is how. He is SO determined to get you to spill out just one swear while he goes to town on you. Is it the most holy thing he should do? No. But how could he not fuck your brains out till you break your own moral code?

He tries so hard too. He has yet to get you there but he has come close. When he had you in a mating press, legs over his shoulders, your ankle’s lightly hitting the base of his wings with each thrust.. You couldn’t stop begging for him to cum inside you as you came for the Xth time in a row.

“Please Adam! P-Please! Fu~“ you cut yourself off with a hand to your mouth.

Adam looked at you with his signature grin, his hips not stopping their movements to pump himself in and out of you. “Was you about to say something babe?”

You held your hand against your mouth shaking your head ‘no’ clearly trying to make it seem like you weren’t about to drop the f bomb.

“Mhm, right~ let’s see if I can pry some other ‘naughty’ fuxkin’ words out of ya!” He laughs a wicked laugh as he switches the position so that he’s somehow even more atop of you. Leaving you a completely, moaning, helpless mess for him to dominate >:)

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest June warm-up round.

Eddie Munson's Corroded Coffin Celebrity Full Metal Upside Down Memorial Awareness Pro-Am Fun Run 5K Race For Hunger

Prompt: Band on the Run | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Future Fic, Middle Aged Famous Corroded Coffin, Established Relationship Steddie, Steve's Made Eddie Watch Too Much of The Office, Eddie Munson's a Runner, But Not Like This

"How did we get roped into this again? Who do I need to kill?" Goodie asks, lifting his leg into the air by the leg of his shorts, until Jeff catches his heel, resting it on his thigh as he ties Goodie's running shoe for him. 

"It's for charity," Jeff answers, cinching the laces, tying them.

Eddie's lacing up his own shoes, and he definitely shouldn't have bought new ones for this. Rookie mistake. He'd be better off with his vintage Reebok's that he wore into the ground.

He stands up and looks at himself in the mirror. He looks ridiculous. He doesn't know the last time his legs have seen sunshine, and they look like little chicken legs, under his baggy, black shorts.

This was a mistake.

Gareth is stretching, a foot up on the arm of the hotel couch, and Steve is all but laying over his back, pressing against him. 

"Um, do we need to let you two get a room?" Eddie asks.

Steve chuckles, and Eddie loves the sound. 

"You just want me to do this to you instead," Steve snarks.

"Well, yeah. Fucking, duh. Always, forever," Eddie answers.

"No, we don't have time for that," Jeff answers, looking at his watch, "it's twenty-three minutes until we have to be at the starting line."

"This is my worst nightmare," Goodie bemoans, "It's high school PE all over again."

And Eddie grins at him, because he feels exactly the same way. Goodie's hit it right on the goddamn nose. 

"Agreed," Eddie says, "and look, Steve Harrington is even here, bullying us freaks."

"I didn't bully you. You were the bully," Steve banters back, because they've had this disagreement a thousand times. 

"Agree to disagree," Eddie says, playing his part. Then he looks at Steve's back, still plastered to Gareth in a way that Eddie would definitely be jealous about if he were doing it to anybody else. "How much money is this raising, again?" Eddie asks, because that's the only thing that's gonna get him out of this room and onto the street. 

Steve straightens back up, "With what you've matched? Nearly fifty thousand dollars."

"That'll feed a lot of kids," Eddie says.

"It will. Your fans have really come through."

"They just want to see us in shorts," Eddie mutters.

"Well, that's at least ten thousand of it, yes," Steve says, and Eddie's pretty sure he's serious.

"Ugh, I'm gonna die," Eddie whines.

"You won't. It's a 5K, not a marathon. Over and done in under an hour, I promise, even if you walk the whole thing."

"I'm definitely walking the whole thing," Eddie insists. 

"And that's fine," Steve tells him, again. "But I'm not."

"And that's fine," Eddie mocks. 

"At least the route's along the ocean, so your casual stroll will have a view," Steve says, goading him.

He's still not running. He's walking.

Eddie doesn't walk. He's too competitive, and he should have realized that long ago. Goddamn Steve for getting him into this. 

So, when Steve, Jeff, Gareth and Goodie take off, Eddie matches them. So much for not conforming. He's embarrassed for himself right now.

Steve pulls away quickly, getting further and further ahead, and then Jeff and Gareth settle in beside each other, which leaves him and Goodie.

He thinks as soon as Steve totally disappears, Goodie will walk, and then he can walk, too.

Goodie doesn't walk. He's not fast, but he's in shape. They all are. Playing live shows like they do, even now in their forties, is more cardio than they even realize. So, they jog along together, and aren't even last.

"Are you dying?" Eddie asks, glancing over at Goodie.

"No," Goodie answers. 

"Me either," Eddie admits. 

Eddie was pretty sure he was gonna be last, and he's a little disappointed he isn't.

Steve is at the finish line, and doesn't even look like he's broken a sweat. Not a hair out of place, that asshole.

Eddie's drenched, and he feels like he just played a three-hour set in the sun. He and Goodie didn't finish fast, but they finished strong. And Eddie only stopped running to take a few pictures with fans along the route, as happy to get the breather as the fans were to get the picture, he thinks.

The volunteer hands the finisher's medal to Steve, letting him do the honors, and Eddie sees how hard Steve is smiling as he holds it up to put on Eddie. So, Eddie smiles back and leans his head forward to accept it, as cameras click all around. It's embarrassing, but he turns on the stage charm, bows and shows it off. Kisses Steve, lets them take pictures that all the tabloids will run with their own spin. Some good, some bad. 

Then, he poses with the rest of the band with the comically large check made out to the children's charity of their choice. 

It was worth it, he guesses.

"Rub my calves," Eddie demands, putting his legs in Steve's lap back in the hotel room, freshly showered, and already feeling more human again. 

Steve laughs, but he digs his fingers into the meat of Eddie's muscles, and they are a little sore. Goddamn new shoes.

"I'm proud of you, you know," Steve says.

"Yeah, yeah," Eddie answers, brushing him off.

"No, I am. I always am, but extra today. I know this isn't your thing, but you did a lot of good today. You all did."

"Yeah, well…"

"And got some great press," Steve adds, and now he's talking.

"Did I look good?" Eddie asks, preening, flipping his hair.

Steve grins, "So good."

And then Steve moves, lowering Eddie's legs back to the couch, settling on top of Eddie, covering Eddie's body with his own.

He presses his lips to Eddie's, then pulls back and looks in his eyes, "This mean you're gonna start going on my morning runs with me?"

And Eddie feels no remorse, as he laughs right in his husband's face.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: Obviously the title comes from the Michael Scott's Dunder Mifflin... race name from the Fun Run episode of The Office.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Stay Away from the Altar - Hangman

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin / Wife!Reader; Seresin Daughter!OC (Rose) / Bradshaw Son!OC (Nick)

Word Count: 4.4k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Warnings: (Over)protective Dad!Hangman; Angst; Fighting; Rebellious Teenagers; Tense Father-Daughter Relationship; Teenagers Dating; Crying; References to Threats; References to Previous or Hypothetical Pregnancy Scares

Summary: Jake isn't ready to accept that his daughter is growing up. And he's definitely not ready to accept that his daughter seems to have fallen for Rooster's spawn.

A.N. You could read this as a sequel to my Left at the Altar series, since I used the name that I gave Hangman and Reader's daughter in that fic for this fic. But it's not 1000% necessary to read the series to understand this story.

And I meant to post this as part of Father’s Day, but let’s just ignore the fact that it’s a day late.

Master List

Admiral Jake “Hangman” Seresin was a very accomplished man. He was the youngest man to reach the admiralty since Tom “Iceman” Kazansky and was currently the Air Boss of NAS Miramar. He had his beautiful wife and absolute love of his life still by his side with their twenty-year marriage anniversary just around the corner. And three beautiful children to brag about to the world.

Everything was going near perfectly in Jake Seresin’s life. And then his eldest daughter Rose suddenly snapped from his little princess and into a defiant teenager about to flee to a college on the other side of the country. And sure, Rose had mentioned going across the country for college before, but Jake was more than a little suspicious.

Why, you may ask? Because Washington DC was awfully close to Annapolis, Maryland. The Naval Academy. The Naval Academy that one little fucker was attending next year.

Nicholas Peter Bradshaw.

Rooster’s spawn was messing with Rose’s head and Jake was not going to stand for it.

Jake didn’t always have suspicions about Nick. He was a decently good kid. For Rooster’s kid, anyways. He was somewhat smart—not as smart as Rose, but he wasn’t dumb as rocks—and he didn’t cause too much trouble. And because of the handful of months between Nick and Rose, they were practically raised side-by-side, which was great until they hit their teenage years.

Because then Nick started to linger.

Spending so much time around Rose. Going to all of her games and all of her events, even if he had his own to worry about. Coming over to ‘study’ and to do ‘homework’ together frequently. Offering to give Rose and her siblings rides to school events or the beach. Always offering to help her and Jake’s wife too with anything to try and impress them.

Yeah, Jake had seen that game played before. He had played it himself back in the day. Successfully. Very successfully. He had the wedding ring, three full wedding albums, three kids, and nineteen and a half years of marriage to prove it. He knew all of the steps and all of the tricks to successfully convince a woman outside of his league to fall in love with him.

And, so, when Nick offered to take Rose for a ‘scenic’ drive in the Bronco, Jake put his foot down.

“What do you mean I can’t go?” Rose complained, glaring up at her dad. “It’s summer!”

“Exactly, so why don’t you go spend some time with your siblings? Or your other friends? Before you go all the way to the East Coast!”

“My other friends that just happen to be girls?” Rose emphasized, a scowl twinging at her lips.

“Yes,” Jake replied, causing Rose’s scowl to deepen.

“Why are you being so weird? Nick has driven me around all over the place!”

“You’re not going for a ride in that stupid bucket of bolts with him, Rose. And that’s final.”

“What is going on now?” Jake’s wife called tiredly, walking into the room.

“Dad won’t let me go for a drive with Nick,” Rose quickly explained, walking over to her mom.

“In the Bronco,” Jake emphasized, causing his wife to sigh.

Rubbing her face tiredly, Jake’s wife picked her head up and glanced between her eldest daughter and her husband. She knew exactly what Jake was concerned about, particularly with his emphasis on the Bronco. Taking a moment to come to a decision, Jake’s wife turned to Rose.

“You can go out with Nick in the Bronco, but be back by dark, okay?”

“But—” Jake started to protest.

“—Thanks, Mom!”

Rose hurried up to her room to change and to probably text Nick to come and pick her up while Jake stared at his wife with clear betrayal. In response, his wife shot him a knowing look and folded her arms over her chest.

“Jake, you’re overreacting,” his wife stated, causing Jake to gape at her.

“Do you want our daughter running around in the Bronco?” Jake hissed quietly, walking over to his wife. “Do you know what could happen to her there?”

“I’m sure that they’ll wear their seatbelts, Jake.”

“Babe, do you remember what we did when I took you for a ride in my truck? A nice slow ride on a summer night?” Jake asked, causing his wife to sigh again.

“Jake, they’re just friends.”

“That’s what we told your parents. Six months later, we were going at it like rabbits naked as the days we were born in the back of my pickup truck!”

“Jacob! For the love of—”

“—Why can’t you see that we’re losing her?” Jake interjected, causing his wife to pause for a moment.

The annoyed expression on her face dropped and she instead simply stared at her husband with a softer expression. Taking a step towards her husband. Rubbing his arm supportively, Jake’s wife reached out and grabbed his hand to give it a squeeze.

“We’re not losing her, Jake.”

“We are losing her,” Jake insisted, his voice coming out small. “She’s moving so far away in only a couple of months and she’ll barely have time to come home. She’s spent most of the last two years barely home between all of her activities and her friends. And I’m so proud of her, but she’s . . .”

“Growing up?” Jake’s wife suggested with a small smile. “Jake, she’s eighteen now. She’s not a little baby anymore.” Cupping Jake’s cheek with her hand, Jake’s wife offered him a small supportive smile. "She’s growing into her own person. And she’s your daughter so she’s stubborn as hell and won’t listen to anyone else while she does it. Least of all us.”

“But she’s going so far.”

“You’re in DC every other month,” Jake’s wife pointed out, rubbing his back. “And she has a phone. She’ll call us. She’s not leaving and never comin back, Jake.”

“She might if he gets involved,” Jake muttered under his breath, causing Jake’s wife to shoot him a look.

“Jake, they’re just friends. And even if they’re not, he’s a perfectly nice boy.”

“But, a Bradshaw? Really? She can do better than that.”

“I’m sure that Rooster would say the same if the situation was reversed,” Jake’s wife replied, shaking her head lightly. “But do not push Rose away by trying to come between her and Nick. The more that you make it seem like she’s rebelling, the more that she’s going to want to do it.”

“But I know exactly what the little twerp has planned!” Jake insisted, causing his wife to sigh.

“First of all, that little twerp is now taller than you. Second of all, Rose is a smart girl with a good head on her shoulders. She can take care of herself. Especially after all of those years of self-defense classes that you put her in.”

“She could kick his ass in three seconds,” Jake agreed, causing his wife to laugh.

“So, stop worrying about him. Just focus on spending time with your daughter, Jake. Okay?”

Pressing a soft kiss to Jake’s lips, she gave his hand a squeeze before walking off to continue on with her day. Jake stood there for a moment, thinking over his wife’s words, before the doorbell rang. Hearing Rose upstairs start to hurry, Jake quickly made his way to the door.

Nicholas Peter Bradshaw seemed a little surprised to see Jake standing at the door and subconsciously straightened up a bit more. Jake’s wife wasn’t lying—Nick was taller than Jake by a few inches, but he was like a little puppy in Jake’s eyes. And not just because Nick always wore a stupid lovesick smile on his face whenever Rose was around.  

“Hey, Uncle Hangman,” Nick greeted him politely, nodding to him.

“You should get in the habit of calling me Admiral Seresin, Cadet,” Jake replied calmly, causing Nick to subtly wince a bit.

“Yes, sir.”

Jake nodded curtly as Rose hurried down the stairs, dressed for the San Diego heat. Letting out a light growl, Rose darted around her dad, grabbed Nick by the arm, and started pulling him towards the Bronco that was parked in the driveway.

“Goodbye!” Rose called over her shoulder.

“Be careful!” Jake called after them. “And think before you do anything!”

“Goodbye!” Rose emphasized back at her dad.

~~~~~

After the Bronco ride, Jake was still on alert when it came to Nick Bradshaw. His wife told him to calm down each and every time, warning him that he was going to give Rose a ‘complex’ if he kept trying to police her life like that, but Jake could just feel it in his bones that he should not trust Nick Bradshaw around his eldest daughter.

And because his instincts were second to none, he was proven right.

Jake was just starting to drift off to sleep with his wife happily tucked into his side. It was a warm night in Miramar and the air conditioner was running full blast. The white noise helped to lull his wife to sleep but Jake had always been a light sleeper, so it took more for him to fall asleep. Jake rested his head on top of his wife’s when he swore that he heard a noise from outside.

Jake picked his head up with his eyes cracked open, suspicious. He was always on alert. His wife often told him that he took the role of protecter a bit too seriously, but Jake couldn’t give in even a little bit with that. For his own conscience.

Getting up from bed, careful to not wake his wife, Jake padded down the hall. Passing by his younger children’s rooms, Jake kept his ear tuned to try and hear the sound. He peeked out the window, trying to spot any sort of indication about what could have made the noise. Like the neighbor’s stupid dog. And when he heard the subtle squeak again, Jake’s eyes narrowed.

~~~~~

Rose Seresin, meanwhile, was trying to open her window. She tried greasing the sides of it during the day, but it still made that stupid squeak occasionally. Holding her breath and hoping that her dad, who she knew was a light sleeper, didn’t hear her, Rose opened the window and looked down to see Nick waiting for her below.

He smiled up at her and waved, causing Rose’s heart to flutter in her chest. It wasn’t exactly planned for her to fall in love with her childhood best friend. But, as her mom told her, sometimes the heart just wants what it wants. And hers wanted Nick Peter Bradshaw.

Blowing him a quick kiss, Rose grinned and slid one leg out of her window. Planting her sneaker clad foot on the roof, Rose carefully slipped out of her window and lowered it a bit more, just in case her parents check in on her during the next few hours. Climbing down the side, Rose prepared to kick off and drop onto the soft mulch below when a chill went down her spine.

“Rose Leslie Seresin, what do you think you’re doing?”

Startled, Rose’s grip on the ledge slipped and she fell a bit. And Nick, also startled and close to shitting his pants, tried to catch her, but he ended up just acting as padding for Rose’s fall. Jake, still dressed in his pajamas, hurried over to help his daughter.

“Are you alright?” Jake called, pulling Rose to her feet and leaving Nick on the ground. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Rose sighed, brushing dirt off of her.

“Then why were you jumping out of your window?” Jake hissed, pointing up at the window to her bedroom. “In the middle of the night?”

Rose, who, all thing’s considered, was a bit of a golden child, froze in place, not really sure what to say. The evidence was right there, after all. And nothing that she could come up with would somehow make all of that go away.

“That’s what I thought,” Jake practically growled, before turning to look down at Nick. “What are you doing here, Cadet?”

“His name is Nick,” Rose stated, coming to Nick’s defense.

“And your ass is grounded,” Jake snapped back, causing Rose to shrink into herself. “I cannot believe that you would be so irresponsible, Rose! Running around with him in the middle of the night! Climbing out of your window! What the hell do you think that you were doing!?”

“Why the hell are you . . .” Jake’s wife called, stepping outside, before she spotted the situation at hand. Sighing, she took a deep breath before walking down to the scene. “Come inside. You’re going to wake up the neighbors.”

Once they were all inside, Jake’s wife told him to take a breath and to go and call Rooster to pick his son up. Rose sat on the couch, curled up on herself, looking like she wanted to burst into tears. Nick sat on the opposite side of the room, staring over at Rose, but unable to reach out to comfort her because then Jake might really bite his head off.

“Your parents will be here in ten minutes,” Jake grunted to Nick, who winced, before turning to Rose. “Do you have any explanation for this, young lady?”

“Jake,” Jake’s wife called to him softly, not wanting to see her daughter burst out into tears. “Give her a second to collect herself.”

Though he already had about a two-hour scold on the tip of his tongue, Jake bit it back. Mostly because he didn’t want to see his daughter burst out into tears either, even if he was livid about what he just saw outside.

He knew that he shouldn’t have trusted Nick Bradshaw.

Rooster and his wife showed up promptly, looking a bit concerned and harried. Rooster’s wife was completely embarrassed and practically grabbed Nick by the ear to drag him out of the Seresin household. With a quick apology to Jake and his wife, Rooster’s wife pulled her son outside and to the family car, leaving Rooster to drive the Bronco home.

But Rooster just had a few words to share with Hangman before he took his own leave.

“Go easy on her,” Rooster stated, causing Jake to scowl at him.

“As if I’ll take any sort of parenting advice from you, Rooster, after what your son just did.”

“Right, because you were a saint when you were a teenager. Never sneaking out or sneaking your now wife out in the middle of the night, right?” Rooster asked dryly, causing Hangman to narrow his eyes. “They’re eighteen, but they’re still kids. They make mistakes and they deserve a chance to learn from them. Don’t let your own fears fuck with her head. Cause it’ll take decades to undo that.”

Jake simply clenched his jaw in response, so Rooster saw himself out. Glaring down at the floor for a moment, Jake turned to see Rose burst off the couch and run upstairs to her room again. Jake’s wife walked behind her, trying to calm her down, but Rose kept going until she reached her room. Jake’s wife shot him a concerned look before hurrying up the stairs after her.

Jake stood where he was, hearing his wife lightly knock on the door and walk into Rose’s bedroom. Jake walked upstairs slowly after a few moments and quietly padded down the hall to Rose’s room. But he could hear his daughter crying before he even reached her door.

“Honey, it’s going to be alright,” Jake’s wife told her daughter, trying to comfort Rose.

“No, it’s not! Nick’s never going to want to see me again after this!”

“Rose, he probably wants to see your right now,” Jake’s wife assured Rose, probably squeezing her into her side.

“And Dad probably hates me!” Rose cried, causing Jake’s heart to shatter in his chest.

“Your father will never hate you, Rose,” Jake’s wife stated firmly, not giving her daughter a moment to doubt herself. “He’s just upset.”

“You didn’t see him, Mom. He hates me! And Nick’s probably going to break up with me now and . . .” Rose trailed off with just a couple of cries and gasps for air.

Lowering his head, Jake walked away from the door and back to his own bedroom.

~~~~~

A week had passed and Rose was completely avoiding Jake. If he walked into the room, she quickly left it or didn’t make eye contact. She spent most of the day up in her room, serving out the grounding that Jake and his wife agreed upon for sneaking out through her window. He wasn’t sure if she was in contact with Nick at all, but either way, he felt like he couldn’t ask.

And with only two weeks left until Rose headed out to the East Coast for college, Jake knew that he had to try make sure that his relationship with his daughter was salvaged before she left and probably never looked or came back.

Walking upstairs, Jake headed down the hall and knocked on the door to Rose’s room. She opened it a few moments later and her features instantly sunk a bit when she noticed it was him standing there. Lowering her head, Rose hid a bit more behind the door.

“What is it?”

“Let’s go for a drive.”

“Dad, I just—”

“—Please?” Jake interjected, causing Rose to glance up at him.

Ten minutes later, they were driving down the road, just the two of them, in Jake’s truck that they used for their beach days and family road trips. Rose was silent in the passenger seat, her gaze focused out the window and her entire body curled away from him. But Jake remained patient and focused on the road in front of him.

Pulling into the old diner that he used to take all of his kids to when they were small and his wife was either working or taking some ‘me’ time, Jake glanced over to catch Rose’s reaction. She frowned a bit and turned to look at him for the first time during their drive.

“Why are we here?”

“Well, it’s lunch time, isn’t it?”

They got out of the truck, with Rose being a bit reluctant, and headed inside the diner. They were quickly seated in a booth and Rose used the menu to put a barrier between her and her dad. Jake remained patient and smiled at the older waitress as she walked over to take their orders. Jake and Rose gave their orders before being left on their own.

“Did you get everything that you need before you go?” Jake asked Rose softly, who shrugged her shoulders in response.

“Most of it. We’ll just pick it up when we get there. That’s what Mom said to do.”

“Are you packed then?”

“Somewhat,” Rose replied, keeping her voice quiet.

“Are you excited?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Jake folded his arms underneath him and let out a sigh when Rose kept her responses short and her gaze lowered and away from his own. She fiddled with the paper wrap holding the utensils together, doing anything to fill the time and avoid having to talk to him.

“Rosie? Can you look at me?”

Rose glanced up at her dad, sinking a bit in her seat. Jake straightened up a bit, his expression serious and concerned, but his voice remained low and calm.

“I don’t hate you, Rosie. I could never hate you. You’re my daughter. My baby girl. And no matter what you do, I’ll never hate you, okay?”

“I know,” she replied quietly.

“Why didn’t you tell me and your mom about Nick?” Jake asked softly and not accusatorily.

“Because I knew that you would freak out,” Rose explained quietly. “And I really like him, so I didn’t want to scare him away or mess anything up between our families.”

“And he treats you well? Makes you happy?”

“Yeah,” Rose stated, nodding confidently. “He does.”

“Did he ever make you feel uncomfortable? Or pressure you into doing something that you didn’t want to do but he did?”

“No. The whole window situation was my idea,” Rose replied, causing Jake to sigh.

“About that—”

“—Dad, I don’t want to talk about it,” Rose interjected, lowering her head again.

“Rosie,” Jake began, though she kept her gaze away from him, “I know that you really like Nick. But I don’t want you to . . . build your life around him. You’re only eighteen. You have your whole life in front of you. Both of you do.”

“I know. I’m not saying that we’re getting married,” Rose insisted, picking her head up a bit defensively.

“And that makes me very happy to hear,” Jake replied, causing Rose to sigh. “But I just don’t want you to get into a situation that you’ll regret down the line. I did a lot of stupid stuff when I was your age and I was lucky that in the end everything worked its way out.”

“I know. Grandma told me,” Rose stated, causing Jake to wince.

“All of it?”

“Just the bit about Grandpa threatening to shoot you when they thought you knocked up Mom,” Rose explained, reaching for her drink.

“Yeah, I remember that conversation,” Jake sighed, rubbing his face. “And I don’t want you to ever be put in that position, Rosie.”

“Dad, I’m not stupid.”

“Are you calling your mom and I stupid then?” Jake countered, causing Rose to press her lips together.

“I’m not going to answer because I don’t want to be grounded again.”

“Good choice,” Jake stated, sitting up a bit straighter. “The point is, I remember what it was like to be a teenager and everything that goes along with it. And I made a lot of mistakes with your mom back then and even later and I wanted to protect you from all of that. But,” Jake emphasized, causing Rose to raise an eyebrow, “you’re going off to college soon and I need to accept that you’re growing up.”

“I’ve been growing up for a while, Dad,” Rose replied softly, shifting in her seat.

“I know, but I was in denial because it’s scary how fast you grew up. And you’ve accomplished more than I ever thought possible,” Jake continued, causing Rose to nod slowly. “Hell, you’re ten times better off than I was at your age and you get most of it from your mom, that’s for sure, and I’m so proud of you and I know that you’ll do even better at college and . . .”

Jake trailed off for a moment, taken back to a different day, about fourteen years ago, when Rose sat across from him at a booth in this dinner. She was missing about three teeth in her smile and her hair was pulled back away from her face. And she had a ketchup stain in her dress afterwards that his wife was not happy about, but made Rose giggle when he was getting scolded about it.

“Dad?” Rose called, bringing Jake back to the present.

Blinking a bit rapidly, Jake stared over at his daughter, who seemingly grew into a young woman overnight. She wasn’t a baby anymore. She didn’t need him or her mom like she needed them before. And she was ready to spread her wings and fly high, like they always knew she could.

“I don’t love the idea of you dating . . . but if Nick treats you right . . .”

“He does.”

“And he makes you happy . . .” Jake continued.

“He does,” Rose repeated, nodding curtly.

“Then you don’t have to hide your relationship from us anymore.” Rose noticeably perked up, but Jake was quick to add his paternal disclaimer. “But that doesn’t mean you two get to just do whatever you want. No excessive PDA and don’t ever think about climbing out of your window like that again. You’ll break your neck and then I’ll break him for not catching you.”

“Dad.”

“And if he gets you into any of the situations that your grandmother described to you about me and your mom back in the day—”

“—We won’t!”

“But if you do, I’m still an admiral. And if Nick wants to stay in the Navy, he better understand that I’m not afraid to call in some favors to serve him the consequences of his actions.”

“You mean Uncle Coyote?”

“I’ll call in a lot of favors,” Jake vowed, tapping his finger on the table threateningly, though Rose cracked a small smile in return.

~~~~~

The old Dagger Squad members who lived out and around southern California gathered during the last few days of summer to wish Nick and Rose good luck before they both headed out to the East Coast to start the next chapters of their young lives. Separate chapters or at the very least adjacent chapters in Jake’s mind.

Jake glanced over at where Rose and Nick were playing cornhole with a couple of the other Dagger kids when he felt arms wrap around his waist. His wife pressed a kiss to his back, between his shoulder blades, and rested her head against him.

“You made it right?”

“Mostly,” Jake replied, causing his wife to smile.

“I knew that you could,” Jake’s wife returned, walking around to his front.

“I still don’t like it. Or him,” Jake insisted as his wife cupped his cheek.

“But?” Jake’s wife suggested, rubbing his cheek with her thumb.

Jake sighed, turning away from his wife for a moment, before reluctantly turning back to face her. She arched her brow, like she knew exactly what he was going to say in response.

“But he makes her . . . somewhat happy.”

“I’m surprised that you survived that sentence,” Jake’s wife replied, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips that Jake returned happily.

“Barely.”

Wrapping an arm around his wife, like they were the teenagers, Jake glanced over at cornhole to see Nick with his arm wrapped around Rose’s waist.

“Don’t get too comfortable over there, Cadet!”

“Dad!”

“Jake!”

[moonshynecybin]

short fic (~1000 words ish) i wrote inspired by @kingofthering's wonderful fake dating au which you can find here ! go read it... anyways thinking about valentino and anger and his love languages and his insane little brain and PERFORMANCEEE and fame being a nightmare. anyways:

“And so my question, I suppose, is about your previous comments about Marc— would you say that you’ve put your feud behind you?”

Vale feels Marc shift from one foot to the other, his shoulders tensing under the lazy stretch of Vale’s arm. He’d tucked him there as soon as they’d entered the room, hoping the physical contact would sell it a bit more— give the two of them something to fall back on in front of the press— make their answers more convincing. Pictures sell faster than words, in his experience. But he shouldn’t have worried, Marc’s media training is a well exercised muscle, and his usual wide smile is pasted across his face. He’s good at this, but Vale may be the only person in the room who can tell how nervous he actually is, his slight change in posture and the rigid line of his jaw giving him away. Valentino is not exactly at ease, himself. It's the first time in quite a while that a press conference has made him feel like he was about to vomit.

Camera flashes light up in a dazzling flurry, pulling Vale back into the present. The entire room is holding its breath, paying careful attention to their answer, dying to know how two of the biggest stars in motorsport went from hating each other to being photographed together with one of them on their knees in the span of a calendar year. Sharks smelling chum in the water.

So Vale makes himself laugh, open and gregarious. Does what he does best— make it into something funny. Something that can’t touch him. Bring everyone else in on how hilarious it is, how absurd. Because if he thinks about it too long he feels like smashing things. He cannot fucking believe the nerve of this reporter. Cannot believe he has to do this. Cannot believe that Yamaha had asked him to let Marc do this alone. Cannot believe he thought about letting him. Cannot believe they’re pretending that they’re— that they—

“I would hope so! It would make being together very difficult otherwise.” He says, light enough to be a joke, gesturing between Marc and him. Marc’s hand tightens on his waist, catching against the smooth fabric of his Yamaha shirt. It’s the first verbal confirmation of what they said in their joint press release— that they’ve been dating. That they are together. That sometime in the off-season they’d reconciled and fell in love.

Of course, that’s not exactly what happened. It’s just harder to explain to the world that the sex you’ve been having with your rival 14 years your junior has been— well. Decidedly closer to something like hate sex than the kind of sex you have with a person that you’re in a committed relationship with. And that a lucky paparazzo had simply been in the right alleyway at the right time. And that Marc and him had barely been on speaking terms before the photo had hit the front page of every major publication in the world.

So here they are.

“And what about last year’s championship? Do you still hold the same opinion about Marc and Jorge Lorenzo's actions at the end of the year?” Another journo asks.

Vale pushes down the wave of emotion, hot and tense—embarrassed—that crests in his chest when he thinks about last year. That’s not what he’s here to do. He grits his teeth, instead. Keeps on smiling. He turns a little, uses the height difference between him and Marc to smile down at him, face close to his, and really sell it. The perfect couple. He winks back at the press.

“It sounds like you all want me to sleep on the couch!” He tries, and the tension in the room breaks, laughter tittering up from the press corp. A bomb defused. “No no no no, Marc and I, we are fine. We are better than fine, even! We are—“ He looks back at Marc, still too close, and pauses when he sees something complicated and delicate playing over his face. Something a little too real to be acting. But Marc quashes it when he sees Vale looking, and turns back towards the room, grin huge and polite. Vale’s words catch in his chest and tangle there for a moment, coming out a little stilted. He covers it with a theatrical shrug and a big smile. “We are good.”

As the press laugh, Marc’s shoulders unspool where they’re pressed against Vale—and he can tell Marc is relaxing, a little. Letting out some of whatever breath he’s been holding. It’s clear that what they’re doing, what Vale is saying, it’s working– the press swaying back to their side as they absorb the news, the shock of the two of them together. The picture they make.

Vale rubs a thumb over the bone of Marc’s shoulder. He's warm. 

Marc starts to speak. “You know, that is in the past. Valentino and I…” He searches for the words in English, brings a hand up to fiddle with his ear– one of his nervous tics. “We had a not so good relationship at the end of last year. But in the off-season, we talk. And learn to separate on-track and off-track. It is good between us.”

And Vale just about can’t stand that, even though he knows this is the plan. He can’t very well smooth this photo thing over and air his grievances at the same time. Doing this is the path of least resistance, he remembers. He tells himself. The one most palatable to the masses– him and Marc, united. Love overcomes all, he thinks bitterly. 

A journalist picks their head up.

“So it’s serious between you two, then? This is for real?”

Vale looks at Marc again, watches the slight flutter of his eyelashes, blinking as the question hits him. Vale wonders what he’s thinking about. If he’s wondering why they’re doing this, now in front of the whole world. If he’s asking himself how they let it get this far. Wondering why he got to his knees in that alleyway when Vale had told him to. Why he’d raced Vale the way he had the entire second half of last season. 

Marc’s smile dims, just for a second, and Vale pulls him closer.

He crushes the instinct to crack a joke just for Marc, to make him smile for real. To ask him why he’d had that look on his face a moment ago. To ask him to come to his trailer later just to– talk. Not to strategize with their PR teams, with their families. To just– be. Like it was before.

But that’s just not the kind of lives they lead. That’s not possible.

Valentino turns back to the press. Smiles. Lies.

“It’s real.”

[trainsinanime]

Your favorite fanfic writer doesn't know (but would like to)

Let's talk about comments on fanfics. This is not meant as a guide or call to action, just a bit of observations. Personally, I always saw it as impolite to ask for reviews or kudos or comments or likes or reblogs or whatever. That's not a rational point of view, it just reflects how I am. And people actually telling others that they have to leave any of this feedback? I've blocked folks over that. In my mind that's not okay. I'm not announcing a change of that, this is not a policy, just some deep-seated mental issues, but I want to write down some more things that have been going through my mind, from the perspective of someone who occasionally writes fanfics. My previous suggestion in this regard was mostly to write some fanfic yourself and see what happens and what you'd like to happen, because it's genuinely fun and I think you probably have more to say than you realise.

But there's also another point here, and that is that your favourite fanfic writer has no idea that they are. If you're anything like me, then it will seem like the great writers in your fandom are obvious. Also, the last time you bought Blåhajs, it ended with you having to flee a smoke-filled subway tunnel. The great stories and great writers in your universe are facts of nature. You read a story and you think, "this is the greatest thing I've ever seen." A story rewires your brain chemistry forever. You keep coming back and reading that one fic whenever the mood hits you. It feels obvious that this story is great. How could it not be?

It feels trite to say that the author of that fic doesn't know that unless you tell them, but it's hard to really understand the feeling unless you've been there yourself. You write a story, but is it any good? Maybe you get a lot of kudos, or maybe very little, but what does either of that mean? Kudos can mean literally anything from "loved this" to "didn't close the tab in disgust". Maybe you just got unlucky. Maybe you just got lucky. What do these numbers mean? What is a good number of kudos? 1? 10? 100? 1000? Should I calculate ratios? How do I know whether people like this?

In light of this, a comment where someone just said, "I loved this", has an almost incalculable worth. A comment where someone says they read this over and over again, or quotes lines they loved, or something? You can't imagine how valuable that is. A while ago someone told me "a couple of us are talking about this on Discord, we love it and we keep repeating our favorite lines". I thanked them, but I was too polite to say, "really? What are they saying? Which are your favorite lines? How many people are there who love it? What are their names? Which lines are the favorite ones, please, tell me!". Part of me still regrets that, because I so desperately want to know! I don't think it was a public Discord and I never heard from the others on it, but just the idea that they're out there and they like my story was so powerful. (By the way, it's not on any account that's linked from here, please don't try to find that comment.)

Now, I firmly believe that you, as a reader, don't have to care about any of that. I know there are people who disagree with me on this point, very strongly in fact, but I don't think it's necessarily your job to care. It's great if you do, and I think a lot of you do in fact care, that's why I'm writing this. But if you haven't thought about that or don't feel comfortable leaving comments or whatever, that's fine, that's normal, and you are in fact part of the majority. Any well-adjusted fic author has found ways to deal with this. They have learned to love writing for its own sake, or they love re-reading their own fics, or they have a couple of trusted friends who like their work, or ideally all three. Personally I was scared of Discord for the longest time, but it really helps with that. One person who you sort of know going "hey that's neat" can outweigh just about anything else. (Still, there will be days when you post something and you won't get a response and that just plain sucks, no two ways about it.)

But if you do care, if you think it's important that a fanfic writer knows what they mean to you, not because of any concern about the wider unpaid fan creator economy but just because of the way their work affected you, then this is important. Your favorite fanfic writer probably doesn't know and/or believe that they're anyone's favorite, and even if they do, a reminder or learning that someone knew found them will make them incredibly happy. And obviously, all of that applies at least just as much to all the beginners with potential that are out there. So if you're wondering whether it's worth it leaving a comment that says how much you enjoyed something: It probably is. And if you shared this with others and they loved it, or if this is your favourite fic, or if you enjoy how original it is, or how well it does your favourite tropes, or anything like that, the writer is going to be so happy to hear that.

A final aside: This obviously applies even more when it's about fandoms, pairings, subject matter and in particular ratings that are considered a bit embarrassing. Writers who write stuff that, say, happens to be E-rated for whatever reason, doesn't matter, will probably get fewer kudos and comments just because people are embarrassed to have their names show up in the Kudos and Comment sections. If that's you, just a note that it is perfectly okay to comment anonymously, or to create a second separate account for leaving kudos on, commenting on and maybe even posting the somewhat more risqué stuff. Now I'm not saying I have one of these second accounts, at least I'm not saying that in public, but it is an option worth considering.

[catt-leya]

Mistress || Rick Grimes 18+ ❣Darker❣

First of all: Some parts of that fic are bothering me but I edited it 1000 times and I honestly can't stand to read it another time so I'm sorry 👉🏼👈🏼💗

AND I think I tagged everyone who wanted to be tagged...if I forgot somebody please leave a comment and I'll write it down for my next fic 🥺💗 it wasn't on purpose I just lost track 👉🏼👈🏼💗

Ah and that gif hm? It's doing something with me...

Summary: You're Negans daughter and Rick uses you for his advantage and as his reward.

Trigger: cnc❣, spanking, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, humiliation, age difference (no minors), oral fixation and my usual smutty stuff

You try to resist the iron grip of the guy behind you, but he unblinkingly drags you to the car waiting for him and you plead, "Let go of me, please."

Undeterred, he growls, "I most certainly will not."

This morning you were assigned to a base of your group and when you arrived at the building, it was already overrun by the assholes from out of Alexandria and you were about to leave to report to Negan, when you ran straight into the broad chest of this guy who has now tied your hands behind your back and is pushing you into the passenger seat.

You have no choice but to stare angrily at the guy with the blue eyes, and as he climbs into the driver's seat, you ask, "Where are you taking me?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him glance at you briefly before muttering, "You'll see."

The guy starts the car and you slide around on the seat to make it more comfortable with your hands tied behind your back.

The more you look at the guy next to you, the more nervous you get. Yes, he could have killed you right there like the others, especially since you didn't even see him coming, but he didn't and you don't know if you might not be better off dead.

You bite your lower lip as you think about how you could get out of the situation, but the blue-eyed guy is much bigger than you and you doubt you would have a serious chance against him.

That's why you sigh softly and ask, "Will you at least tell me your name?"

You get a simple "no" and could hit the roof in frustration.

If only you had just said you wanted to support another base this morning or not gotten up at all.

Instead, you're sitting in a car driven by a complete stranger who is now steering the car to a group of other cars.

Frantically, you try to catch a glimpse of the people in the other cars, but the cars are so staggered that you have no way of making out more than the reflection of the trees around you.

Questioning, you look to your driver because he turns off the engine and keeps his gaze out of the window.

Confused, you lean forward to see better.

All the cars have turned off their engines and you could swear that they are all looking in the same direction.

With a furrowed brow and your body tense with curiosity, you follow Mister Nameless' gaze and then raise your eyebrows in surprise when you see a guy on the hill sneaking up behind one of your colleagues.

You'd love to scream for him to turn around, but that's when it happens.

Your colleague turns around, but by then it's too late and the guy stabs him.

You want to scream and avert your eyes, but you can't do anything but stare as the guy grabs your colleague and friend by the neck and just throws him to the ground.

He lies bleeding on the grass and the guy who did this to him lifts his chin arrogantly and says something you can't hear.

As he turns his back on your bleeding friend, you start tugging at your bonds and hiss, "No, no, no."

The guy had the balls to do this on his own and it's not until he lets go of the walker, who's tied to a post so he can pounce on your colleague, that you realize the shit you're in.

The cars are started and you look at your driver who, like everyone else, is heading towards the guy who is now coming back down the hill.

You can't take your eyes off the man who is moving towards the cars with such confidence, as if he owns the world.

He has a certain charisma that you've seen a lot with Negan, too. Except that with Negan it's often accompanied with a lot of humor and levity, and the guy in the gray shirt doesn't look like humor is his secret weapon. 

With him, it looks more like he wants to rip out the throat of anyone who gets in his way with his teeth.

You can't suppress a tremor as he gets close enough to your car and his hard stare lands on you through the windshield.

Your passenger gets out and walks up to the man in gray, "Rick, the base is taken and I found the woman by accident at the very end when I was heading back to the car."

Rick? 

Rick. 

Of course! 

So this is the leader of Alexandria that Negan told you about. You've never seen him with your own eyes because Negan never allowed you to come along when he was with them, but he said that this Rick wasn't sane.

In fact, you saw respect in Negan's eyes when he spoke of Rick, which doesn't make you loosen up now, especially since Rick now asks in a low voice, "Then why is she still breathing?"

Panicked, you try to loosen the restraints one more time.

"Take a good look at her. Don't you notice anything?" 

Your driver nods in your direction and when Rick looks back into your face through the glass, you are frozen. 

The restraints are forgotten and you can't stop looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

Sure, the guy who drove you here had blue eyes too, but damn, they weren't even close to that beautiful.

Rick's dark hair and gray beard make them look more intense and you have to pull yourself together not to start drooling because he's generally incredibly handsome. 

Shit, maybe the most beautiful man you've ever seen.

His gaze is glued on you and he tilts his head slightly when you suddenly see realization flash in his eyes and he starts to move.

Rick approaches the car and you try to slide as far away from the door as you can, but he pulls the door open and grabs your arm with ease, dragging you outside.

Stomping, you try to fight him off, but he remains completely unimpressed and pushes you to your knees in front of him.

It's so easy for him to push you around that tears come to your eyes as you look up at him.

You have no chance to get out of the situation and clench your teeth tightly as he slides his gaze over you again in the light of the sun, "You're his daughter."

It's not a question, but a simple statement that still makes you cringe, not knowing if that very thing would be your death sentence or if the fact that Negan is your father will save your life.

Tears run down your cheeks and yet Rick can clearly see the resemblance between you and your father.

When he looks at you, he can see your father in you and nevertheless he can't deny that he likes having you on his knees. 

Your big eyes look at him pleadingly and at the sight his cock presses hard against his pants.

Fuck, you're so incredibly young and beautiful.

The way he's looking at you makes you feel uneasy, and all dignity is flushed from your body as you push your bottom lip forward and sniffle, "Rick? Right? Please let me go. I promise I won't say a word about what I saw here."

He lifts his head to look at the round of people gathered around you, and you take advantage of the brief moment when his piercing eyes aren't on you to eye him, but you immediately jerk your head back up as your eyes land on the slight bulge in his pants.

That's when you'd rather watch his chest widen as he takes a deep breath and announces to everyone, "Nothing changes in the plan. We're going ahead."

Kneeling, you turn your head and watch the others nod and head to their cars, the guy who brought you here also leaving you, and in that moment you miss the quiet assurance that he wouldn't have hurt you.

Looking back up at Rick, you're not sure what's going to happen and you just start crying harder.

It's always been that way. 

Whenever you're scared, you can't hold it in, and now you're scared to death.

You're still kneeling in front of him when you hear the cars slowly pulling away and you try again, "Please, I just want to go home."

With dark eyes, Rick reaches out to touch your face and you wince as he brushes the tears from your cheeks with his thumb.

"Oh, I'll take you home, princess."

He grabs your hair and tugs up on it, making your scalp burn and you cry again, "Please don't."

His hand moves to the back of your neck and his fingers dig into your skin, "You don't even know what I'm going to do to you yet."

Anything but gently, he pushes you back toward the car and presses your small body against the cool metal, making you shiver again.

Rick's body is close behind you, but not close enough to touch you, and you squint your eyes as his deep voice reaches your ear, "I'm sure you want to make yourself useful in order to survive. Do I see that right?"

Sniffling, you nod, already having an idea of what he would ask of you.

But he grumbles, "Smart girl."

His hand slides from the back of your neck to the small of your back, and blush colors your cheeks as you notice your lower belly clench expectantly.

Through his flat palm on your back, he can feel you trembling in fear of him and that makes him smile. 

It will be so easy to break you.

Slowly he presses himself against you and the feeling of your round ass against his hard cock makes him hum with satisfaction.

Your body is pure perfection and your huge fear of him has been apparent to him since the first time he saw you, which only makes everything that much easier for him.

Gently, he rubs against your ass and then murmurs harshly, "You do what I want you to do."

You lower your head and whisper a soft, "Yes."

Your fingertips graze his belt buckle as he rubs his cock against you, and your heart hammers in your chest as he leans in and whispers in your ear, "Like I said, I'm driving you home. Only now you're mine and I'm going to show that to your father. You won't do anything that I won't like, and if you're a good girl, you'll stay alive."

Before you can respond, he pulls back and drags you by the upper arm into the passenger seat.

With flushed cheeks, you watch him walk around the car and drop into the driver's seat next to you.

You swallow hard, not daring to take your eyes off him as he pulls up, afraid he'll take advantage of your inattention.

Your eyes are glued to his profile and you can't stop wondering if his hair is as soft as it looks.

You wonder how long his hair would be if you smoothed out the curls at the nape of his neck.

He raises an eyebrow and without looking at you, he asks, "Would you like to touch me?"

Hectically, you tear your eyes away from his face and direct your gaze to his hands on the steering wheel. Bottom line: this isn't much better.

Your voice betrays you as you mutter, "No."

A small laugh slips from Rick's lips because he can still feel your gaze on him. 

He knows for a fact that you're afraid of him, but it's not all you feel.

He can't believe how lucky he is to have you run into his arms, and he'd be out of his mind if he didn't use that luck to drive Negan up the wall.

Looking out the window in disbelief as you see what Rick's people have set up outside the Sanctuary, you whisper, "Oh my God."

Cars reinforced with metal walls are parked in front of the main entrance and everyone is heavily armed.

Panicked, your eyes search for your father, but you can't see him anywhere. 

Not yet.

Rick's raspy voice reaches your ear as you still stare at your home, "Remember what I told you. Don't do anything that would make me punish you."

You nod and tears come to your eyes again.

As Rick takes you out of the car you do exactly what he asks and don't resist his grip.

You don't resist as he brushes a few strands of hair from your face and stay close to him as he asks you to.

A short time later, you hear your father's voice and close your eyes tightly.

Your father doesn't take Rick seriously and you can hear that very clearly.

Carefully, you look over at Rick, who keeps his beautiful blue eyes fixed on Negan, "I found something on the way here."

Your father laughs, "What? A fucking bucket of gold?"

Rick juts his chin, "Better."

Blindly, he reaches for you and you let him pull you in front of him.

Immediately your eyes land on your father, all features slipping from his face.

He stares at you like you're an apparition and you can see the panic in his eyes as Rick places a hand on your lower stomach and hugs you tightly to his body, "What a coincidence, huh?"

Negan takes a step forward, "Let her go, you bastard."

You can't look your father in the eye as Rick slides his second hand over your shoulder and calls out in amusement, "Why should I? She seems to like it with me."

His hand closes around your jaw and he presses a finger against your trembling lips.

You know what he wants you to do, but you can't bring yourself to do it.

That's when he squeezes harder and hisses so only you can hear: "Princess."

You want to live. You really do.

That's why you open your mouth and Rick slides his finger into your mouth.

He's not worried about you biting because you're way too scared of him to dare.

That's why he just smiles at Negan, "She likes it a lot. She has talents you don't know about."

It's so incredibly inappropriate and humiliating, but his body against your back and his finger in your mouth makes you squeeze your thighs together unobtrusively and more as a reflex you start sucking on his finger.

Surprised, he straightens up a little further and slides a second finger into your mouth, mumbling softly, "That's my good girl."

Your eyes are fixed on the floor in front of you and you continue to suck submissively on his fingers.

By itself, his touches aren't very sexual, but when he then slides his hand under your shirt, Negan bellows, "I'll chop your hands off, you sick asshole. She's just a kid."

Confusingly gentle, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and says loud enough for everyone to hear, "Please tell everyone how old you are, princess."

Rick has his sources and has known since before you were found by his people that Negan has a 23 year old daughter, so it doesn't surprise him when you murmur, "23."

His fingers dig into your skin and you repeat louder, "23, Rick."

The hand on your skin is warm and you get goosebumps as he pushes it a little higher, "And trust me. The things she can do are appropriate for her age."

Oh God, his hand feels so good on your body that you press a little further against him and he murmurs, "Princess, you make me proud."

Your head is spinning and just as you're about to lift your head to look Negan in the eye, Rick shoves you behind a metal wall and raises his voice, "Do you really wanna make me count?"

It all happens so fast. 

At first everything is calm, until then all hell breaks loose.

Still with your hands bound, you let yourself slide to the floor and try to make yourself as small as you can.

Your gaze is fixed on Rick and you pray with every shot that it doesn't hit your father.

Wildly, Rick jerks his head around and yells over the din of the coming walkers, "Get up."

Unsteady as a newborn, you get to your feet and he grabs you by the arm to drag you back to a car.

Shots are still falling and you pull your head in as best you can to avoid getting hit as Rick practically throws you into the back seat of a car.

Because of your bound hands, you land ungently on your stomach and can't get up either.

The only thing you can somehow manage is to turn your head so that you can catch a glimpse of a woman steering the car and Rick sitting in the passenger seat, tensely trying to see something through the window.

You suspect he's trying to find your father, but the harder he searches, the more you relax.

He is alive. He must be alive.

In fact, that's your only hope of getting away from Rick and his people.

After some time, you clear your throat softly, "Rick?" As you do so, you try to keep your voice as soft and innocent as you possibly can.

He doesn't turn in your direction, but you hear a soft "Huh?" which you take as a quiet agreement that you may continue speaking, "Could you take off my shackles. I promise not to do anything you wouldn't want me to do." 

Deliberately, you use words similar to what he used earlier and you hear him sigh softly in response, "Connie? Will you stop for a minute?"

The woman asks no questions and stops in the middle of the street, allowing Rick to get out.

You don't see him walk around the car, but he pulls the door open behind Connie and slides into the back seat, lifting your upper body and placing you on his legs, "You can drive."

Connie does as he says and he leans over you to untie your bonds.

As he does, your nose presses into his thigh and you whimper softly as you feel Rick tense beneath you.

His hands reach for the rope holding yours bound and he tries not to think about how hard you're breathing into his crotch and the sounds you make every time he moves even minimally. 

He knew it would be easy to subdue you. 

But he didn't expect it to be SO easy.

As gently as he can, he unties the rope from your slender wrists and immediately you sit up and slide as far away from him as you can.

Amused, he raises his eyebrows, especially since not too long ago you were pressing your ass against him.

Your eyes are huge and completely focused on him, and some dirty thoughts nestle in his head at the sight.

Slowly he lets his eyes wander a little lower, where your breasts press against your thin top with every frantic breath, leaving little to the imagination.

The fact that his blue eyes undress you with his gaze alone doesn't make you feel any calmer in the passenger seat and you take a deep breath, "What are you going to do to me?"

That's the question you've been asking yourself all along, and when he looks you in the face again, you're not sure you should like what you see in them so much.

His eyes are veiled and the way he tilts his head forces you to squeeze your thighs together again, which of course doesn't escape his notice and he grumbles harshly, "You'll see."

He doesn't try to pull you closer, or talk to you further. 

Instead, you all wait for the gate of Alexandria to appear before you. 

You, especially, are waiting for it because you've never seen it before.

Your father had enough reasons not to let you near it, except that all his caution couldn't prevent you from walking through the streets of Alexandria with Rick's hand low on your back.

You are hyper aware of Rick's presence, but his hand on your body can't stop you from turning your head in all directions to see as much as you can.

You've seen only a few of the communities that work with your father, but you like Alexandria best of all. 

It looks like a cute little town, and you're so distracted by it that you barely notice Rick sliding his hand from your back to your hip, pulling you even closer to him.

Your body feels so good in his hands that he has to pull himself together not to groan out loud on the spot and clenches his teeth tightly.

He takes it up a notch and pushes you toward his house.

When it gets through to you where he's leading you, the curiosity is suddenly completely gone and you resist his grip around your waist, "Wait."

Unmoved, he pushes you further toward the door and you panic.

Being alone with him doesn't feel right and more than dangerous. 

Especially with locked doors and the way he looks at you makes you nervous and you brace yourself with all your strength against him, "Please don't."

Sighing, he stops and rolls his eyes before he drops a bit and just throws you over his shoulder. You don't even have enough time to react before he stomps through the front door and as it slams into the lock, you finally start to fidget.

Like a fish out of water, you struggle and tearfully cry, "Put me down."

Rick grips your thighs tighter and has to stifle a laugh as you try unsuccessfully to free yourself from him.

At your wriggling, your pretty breasts keep pressing against his shoulder and he can't resist the urge to close his free hand around your thighs as well, except he lets his hand wander between them.

His hand is still a few inches away from your crotch, but even so, you immediately become very still and wait for what he would do next.

Your body is treacherous and when you notice your pussy clench expectantly because his big hand is so close, you grit your teeth and try to straighten up.

At that moment, he withdraws his hand before you feel it hard on your ass.

He hit you! He actually hit you!

Outraged and humiliated, you gasp, "Put me down."

Never would you admit that the sharp pain went right between your legs.

So you push yourself back up, Rick rolls her eyes and slaps your ass, harder this time, and at your soft whimper in response, his cock twitches in his pants, “Stop it.”

It's ridiculous how hard you try to get away from him because you wouldn't stand a chance anyway. 

Especially because he knows you like it. 

He steers you to his room with you on his shoulder and throws you on his bed.

Immediately your eyes are on him again, as if you were a deer in headlights, and only when he starts to unbutton his shirt do you lower your gaze.

Trembling, you sit on his bed and don't dare to look at him because you don't want him to read in your face how much you want to touch his bare chest.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his shirt slide to the floor and you risk a little peek through your eyelashes.

His pants sit low on his hips and you briefly wonder how a belly button can be so beautiful.

Your eyes wander a little higher, over his scars on his left side and up to his collarbone.

God, even his collarbone is kneeling.

A soft moan slips from your lips and Rick takes a small step towards you, "Come here."

Carefully, you look him in the eye and can see the desire. 

The man wants you badly and you're pretty sure it's mostly because you're the daughter of his enemy. 

Rick raises an eyebrow challengingly. All you're supposed to do is try to resist him and put him to the test. You'll end up begging him to have his cock inside you. 

Rick wants to defile you and break you. 

Hell, he wants you to beg to be his. 

He wants you to beg to touch him. 

He wants you to beg him in tears to be fucked by him.

Afraid he'll pounce on you if you resist him, you slowly stand up and take a small step in his direction so you're only inches apart.

He lifts a hand and slowly runs it through your soft hair. You are so damn beautiful and pure innocence, which only turns him on more.

Gently he pulls your hair and you swallow hard as he leans in and his lips graze your pounding pulse, "You were a good girl today, princess. Did exactly what I expected of you and then some. Would you like a reward for that?"

'Oh God' is all that goes through your mind as he spreads hot kisses on your neck and you clench your hands into fists to resist the urge to touch his flat stomach.

Rick takes another small step toward you and now your breasts are pressed against his torso.

You feel his tongue sliding over your neck and you can't suppress a soft gasp, making him growl, "Well?"

At that, he grabs your hands and forces your small fists to unclench, pressing your palms to his bare skin.

He's hot and feels so incredibly good under your fingertips, but you force yourself to say, "No." And feel Rick's hands just below your breasts, "Are you sure, princess?"

Your fingers brush over his belly and you notice his stomach muscles tighten the closer you get to his pants.

Your touch is so light and innocent that Rick almost loses his mind, and as he takes a deep breath to bring himself under control, your scent goes to his head. 

Shit, you smell so good, he'd like to press his nose into your skin the whole time.

His beard scratches your skin as you murmur in a low voice, "I'm sure."

Slowly, he lifts his head and looks down at you lasciviously as he purrs, "Then I'm just picking up my own reward for today."

Confused, you frown as he's already grabbing your waist and lifting you back onto the bed behind you.

He pushes you onto your back and you cry out in panic as you feel his weight on your body.

Rick is heavy as hell and you can only move minimally under him, which you might have actually liked under other circumstances...okay yeah, maybe you like it under these circumstances.

His hips are between your thighs and you can feel his cock between your legs. 

At that, you're pretty sure he's big. 

Bigger than you can handle.

Without a second thought, Rick reaches for your hands, which still linger on his stomach, and holds them above your head.

With huge eyes, you look back up at him and would love to brush some of his strands of hair that have fallen forward out of his handsome face. 

You should be scared. 

You should be screaming.

But all you can bring to your lips is, "Am I your reward?"

Quietly, Rick laughs out, "Would you like to be my reward, princess?"

You bite your lower lip and lower your gaze to his lips before muttering, "No."

Rick slides his free hand down your body to your pants, then mumbles softly, "Well, I'll just take it then."

You don't resist a bit as he undoes the button from your pants, moaning softly as he shifts his weight in the process and his cock presses into just the right spot.

He slides his hand down your pants and your whole body rears up at the first contact. His fingers run through the wetness he's been provoking all day and he hums softly, "You know, I only had to look at you once and I knew it would be easy to get you."

Fluttering, your eyes fall shut and he barks, "Look at me."

Immediately you open your eyes and look into his blue eyes that caught your eye in the first few seconds.

Slowly he draws circles around your clit: "The way you looked at me, princess. The way you're looking at me now. That is enough for me."

Your hips jerk up to meet his fingers, but his touch remains light, "You're mine now."

Shuddering, you take a breath as your pussy clenches for nothing, begging to clasp his fingers.

As if of their own accord, your legs lift and wrap around Rick's waist to pull him closer to you, and as a small reward, he runs his finger around your entrance, "You say you don't want to, but your body says something completely different."

You lower your gaze to his tanned arm reaching between your thighs and whisper again, "Don't."

That's when he slides a finger inside you and you moan his name.

He holds your arms tightly together above your head and can't take his eyes off the blush that's slowly working its way up your cleavage to your neck. 

You look so beautiful as you try to squirm on the cool sheets, trying to escape his grip while wanting more from him.

His whole body screams to just pounce on you as your wetness spreads all over his hand, but he has other plans.

Your pussy clamps around his fingers and he laughs hoarsely, "So you want me to stop even though I can barely move my fingers because this little pussy wants to keep me so bad. How pathetic."

His finger strokes your warm walls and you moan, "Rick, please."

His thumb presses down on your clit and you press your head firmly into the mattress beneath you as you feel your belly growing warmer and forming a knot.

You barely notice when he lets go of your hands and wraps his hand around your neck instead.

Your thoughts only circle around the sensation he can invoke between your legs, and each time you clench tighter around his fingers.

What more could he want than to squeeze the air out of you while fingering you?

What could be better than feeling your pulse beat on both ends?

Gasping and struggling for air, you look him in the eye again and thrust your hips towards him, but just at the moment you think you're going to burst into a thousand pieces, he pulls his hand away from you and you howl, "No, no, no."

Slowly he lets go of you and shoves the finger that was inside you into his mouth before taunting you, "You made a mess, princess."

His hand shines with wetness and your cheeks blush even more as you imagine what you must look like between your thighs.

With embarrassment, you try to squeeze your legs together, but he just shakes his head arrogantly, "Nah. I want my reward."

You barely recognize your own voice as you croak, "I don't want to, Rick."

Your head knows full well that you shouldn't want him.

He's kidnapped you and forced you into his bed, but you also can't deny that your body aches for him and wants to feel his cock. 

Preferably so deep inside you that you would never let another one between your legs again.

Grinning, he looks down at you because you say you don't want to and your now free hands still try to reach for him.

He leans back enough to grab your waist and turn you onto your stomach, where you immediately try to straighten up. But he puts a hand between your shoulder blades, holding you down with ease.

It is at that moment that you realize how much stronger he is and what an inescapable position you are actually in.

Cockily, he murmurs, "On your knees. Just your knees."

You bite your lower lip, knowing exactly what's coming as soon as you press your butt against his cock.

Awkwardly, you somehow slide onto your knees and he praises you, "Good girl. Doing exactly what I ask of you."

Rick removes his hand from your body and notes with satisfaction that you don't move an inch, closing your eyes in shame as your arousal slowly runs down your thighs and Rick can clearly see it.

Groaning, he puts his head back in his neck and his cock twitches in anticipation of entering you. 

With his finger he has already felt how tight and willing you are, but the thought of sinking his cock into that pussy makes his heart beat fast.

The wetness runs down your thighs as you hear Rick undo his belt and pants.

For a brief moment, nothing happens and the only things you hear are your frantic breaths and your pounding heart.

But when you want to open your eyes, you already feel Rick's hand on your neck and his hard cock on your most intimate place.

With a jerk you push yourself towards him and whimper softly.

He feels so hot and hard against your swollen labia that you barely notice him teasing you, "I thought you didn't want to. Well, I'd say it's too late to change your mind now."

Confused because you thought he was going to fuck you, you frown, but before you can ask what he means, you feel it.

The hand that isn't on your neck has his cock in it, and he's jerking off while just pressing his tip against your pulsing entrance.

He doesn't penetrate you and that only makes you more desperate.

It takes all his willpower not to fuck your sloppy pussy, but the way you immediately start gyrating your hips to get him to penetrate you deeper is reward enough.

Moaning, you try to get him to take you, but you're so unsuccessful that it brings tears to your eyes again and he taunts you, "So you do want my cock?"

Instead of answering you try to press yourself further against him again, but you have no chance and the tears of humiliation fall on Rick's bed sheets.

His hand keeps slapping against your thigh as he continues to jerk off with pleasure and then wraps his hand from your neck around your chin and then slides two fingers between your open lips again.

Muffled, you moan out and he growls, "If you don't want to talk, I guess you'd best use your mouth to suck on my fingers, huh? That's what you want. Like in front of your father when you couldn't stop. Do you like being used by me?"

Completely out of it, you nod and he hisses, "Speak."

Muffled by arousal and his fingers, you moan, "Yes, Rick." Before you go back to sucking on his fingers in your mouth, barely thinking straight.

You have no idea if the wetness on your pussy is from you, or his precum mixing with your arousal, but you're ready to beg him. 

Begging and pleading with him to fuck you.

Just what he's wanted from you all along.

With his fingers in your mouth, you beg, "Please Rick." And he laughs softly, "You want me to fuck your sloppy pussy?"

Hectically, you nod and whimper, "Yes."

He moves forward an inch and immediately your pussy clenches begging and he mocks you, "Are you my good girl?"

All dignity is flushed from your bones and you cry, "Yes, yes, yes. I'm your good girl. I-" With one thrust he penetrates you and your long drawn out moan fills the room.

He's so big and hard inside you that you feel like he's tearing you apart from the inside, and yet you try to get more of him inside you, gyrating your hips again.

You're so insanely tight that Rick briefly feels like he's going to pass out before he blinks and looks down at your trembling body begging to be fucked through and that's all it takes for him to pull back a little and then thrust hard into you again.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and tugs you up by your hair enough to murmur, "So nice and tight for me" in your ear murmur and in response you pulsate expectantly on his cock.

He thrusts into you again, "And willing."

You're so full and wet that you can barely bring more than his name past your lips as he lowers a hand to your clit, turning you to wax in his hands. His deep thrusts are everything you can think about and every time he hits that one spot inside you, you cry out in pleasure.

Gently, he sucks on your earlobe and murmurs, "Now, princess."

Rick clenches his teeth tightly as you hoarsely scream his name and your whole body tenses. He doesn't know any different and lingers inside you as you come on the fullness inside you and can't stop pressing yourself tighter and tighter against the man behind you.

His warm and big body behind you makes you go weak and as you hear him growl "Fuck," you moan his name and he growls, "Fuck, you were made for me."

And that's when you feel him twitch inside you and his thrusts become messy and erratic.

Breathless, you turn your head and as you see the pure arousal in his eyes you reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers with his.

As you do so, his body falls forward, burying you beneath him.

Gasping, he rolls off you and you cling to his hand as if it were your lifeline as you try to catch your breath.

You turn your head to the side to look at him and groan again as you see his chest rising and falling rapidly and how his curls lie around him on the bed like a halo.

Immediately he turns his head too and raises an eyebrow questioningly, and the only thing you can bring past your lips is, "You haven't kissed me once."

He shrugs, "So what? I wanted to fuck you."

You don't know what he sees in your eyes, but it makes him sigh softly and lean in to place his lips on your pout.

The kiss is incredibly gentle in contrast to his words and actions, and you lift your upper body to meet his.

Gently, he lets his tongue slide over your lower lip and you willingly open your mouth to him, which he immediately takes advantage of, making you sigh softly before he moves away from you and you follow him to reunite his lips with yours.

But he shakes his head, "That's enough."

Sluggishly, you drop back onto the bed and he hums softly, "Get dressed."

Questioningly, you look at him and he rules, "What did I say?"

Immediately you slide off the bed to put on your pants as he looks up at you lying in bed and grins, "Good girl." Because he knows you'll do anything for him.

@hail-yourselves  @bean-is-reading  @chanlvr2  @criminalwalkingsupernatural  @sunshinevirus  @toxic-ink   @kingtwhiddleston   @bloodycherry22   @vane28282   @bamslover   @revesephemeres   @emo-potato-virgil   @tropodyn   @mrsashleybarnes18-blog   @igotbasicdrag @starsaroundmyscxrss @moonshine147 @1-800-isabellapotter @starkstiless @marvelfan789 @eternalrose81 @daryl-dixons-crazy-woman

(If anyone else would like to be tagged, just let me know 💗)

[nirvanawrites111]

Wedding Secrets (Sub!Taemin x Dom!Reader)

Pairing: Sub!Taemin x Dom!Reader

Pronouns: none used, written as an afab! reader. Reader does wear a dress.

Genre: Exes to lovers, non-idol au, Taemin is a famous cherographer and you two see each other at Hoshi's wedding.

Warning: smut of course, pussy eating, dom!reader, femdom, cheating, pulling Taem's hair, and grabbing his shirt. Y/n is called mommy

Word count: 1789.. it was supposed to be only 1000 words.

BTW, this is NOT the story I teased a week ago. I'm still working on my Yandere!Taemin fic.

I'm just so in love with Taemin y'all.. but y'all already knew that.

Happy Subby!September! Thank you to everyone who is reading, writing, and reblogging. We are just getting started!

Smut below the cut! Enjoy.

The wedding reception was vibrant and full of energy. But, your heart drops when you spot him from across the room.

Your ex.

At Hoshi's wedding, of all places? You both shared a mutual surprised look, and suddenly, the upbeat song seemed a bit too loud.

Memories of old times flashed by as you caught his eye. This was going to be an interesting evening for you.

Not to mention, the woman by his side is drop-dead gorgeous, and you're sure she's a model or some influencer.

Being a choreographer, you know he makes his rounds around the entertainment industry.

You get up from the table and head to the bathroom. The last thing you want is to show any emotions and make this about you. This is about celebrating your good friend, and you don't want to draw any attention to you.

You retreat to the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror. Your makeup is still perfect, your hair is flawless, and you look amazing in your outfit. You take a couple of deep breaths.

"I don't have feelings for him anymore.. so why am I tripping?"

"You don't have feelings for me.. anymore.. mommy?" Taemin voices announces into the bathroom, and you glare at him as you stare at him in the mirror.

While you thought hearing that name would feel foreign to you, instead, you miss it. A little more than you would like to admit.

You can't even hide your facial expressions, so you turn around to face him. You wrap your arms around your body, holding yourself in hopes that you can keep it together.

"No, we're over... remember?" Your echo of the truth is a reminder that he doesn't belong to you anymore.

He wanted to end things because he felt like monogamy wasn't something he wanted to continue. So, he walked away from you.

"I know that, but you haven't answered the question. Because if I'm being real with you. I'm not over you. Every person I sleep with, I have to close my eyes and imagine that it's you that I'm with."

Of course, the most infamous choreographer and dancer in your home country has been with other people since the split. That was the whole purpose, right? But it still doesn't feel good hearing it.

But, simultaneously, you feel a little emotion stir inside you, because he still isn't over you.

"Does my answer even matter?" You challenge him.

Taemin tilts his head, and studies your body language. His piercing dark brown eyes, and you know that right now, he's the bold, confident, loudmouth Taemin. In a snap of a finger, if you step into "mommy mode," he will be a whimpering mess under your control. He can get into his subspace so easily for you.

"For me, it does," he responds softly.

A surge of memories hits you – the late-night rehearsals, the impromptu dance sessions at dawn. The way you two would hook up at his dance studio. The passion between the two of you is undeniable. But you know, along with those fun memories comes the bitter ones, the fights, and the jealousy.

"Why now?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady. "After all this time, after everything that happened, why bring this up now?"

You watch him take a deep breath, looking down momentarily, before returning his mesmerizing gaze to yours.

"It's simple. Everywhere I go, all I see and imagine is you. You used to choke me the way I liked, spank me, spoil me, love me, touch me. Make me submit like no one else could. I'm still in love with you, Y/n."

You want to speak, and you open your mouth to do so, but you stop yourself. You take a moment to process what he just told you.

Your relationship with him was such a whirlwind. He's never been your typical type of guy you like to date. You are quiet and reserved around people you don't know. Only a selected person gets to see your true personality shine.

But, Taemin is outspoken, flirty, and outgoing all the time. He's always the center of attention in some type of way. You never wanted to dim his light or stop his beautiful energy. But, at times, his innocence gets misinterpreted by someone dying for his attention.

Which created issues in your relationship. He has five million Instagram followers, which is more than some of the idols he choreographs for.

He's pretty much a big deal to a lot of people. But, no one has ever experienced him in the way that you have.

"Kiss me," you mumble.

You get out of your head and try to ground yourself back into your body. You know you will ruminate over this if you don't let your body take the lead.

Taemin steps closer into your presence and presses his soft, juicy lips against yours. Your eyes shut immediately, and you allow him to take the lead momentarily. He deepens the kiss and wraps his hands around your waist, and you pull him closer to your body.

You pull back from him, and you feel that familiar feeling come over you. That surge of energy allows you to take control of the situation.

"Mommy? Can I taste you?" The words slip off his tongue so quickly, and you wanted nothing more than to shove his face right into your pussy.

How did he know that you even wanted him in that way?

You removed Taemin's suit jacket and laid it on the sink, and you hiked up your dress so that you can prepare his meal for him.

How could you deny yourself the satisfaction of having the best head in your life? Even if it meant this was just a one-time hookup.

You spread your legs for Taemin, and you are already wet with excitement.

"Come on and eat it before your girlfriend comes looking for you," you taunt him.

"She doesn't care. She's just with me for her social media page."

You run your finger down your slit and feel how wet you are just from kissing Taemin. It never fails how you always react to him so easy.

Taemin smirks and kneels before you just enough to be at eye level at your core. He places his hands on your thighs for leverage as he jams his tongue inside you.

You instantly realize how much you have missed his tongue deep inside you. The feeling of his tongue warms you in a way that you can't explain. It's familiar, and it feels even better as he begins to lap at your folds.

"God, I've missed your tongue, Taem. You're still the best head I've ever had that."

You expect Taemin to respond to your comment, but he's lost himself inside of your sacred world. He mixes up his technique from sucking on your clit to giving you very slow, but passionate kisses that cause your body to jilt every time.  To do it all over again in between speeds and variations.

The feeling of having Taemin eat you out like it's his last meal on Earth has your mind spinning a bit when he services you like this. You know that his words are really true.

There is no way that he eats out that IG model like this.

Taemin is way too good and knows exactly what you need when you need it.

He's so good at reading your body language since he's an empath. He knows what you want before you even say it. That's how in sync you two are.

But, you snap out of the state of euphoria, and you grab him by the hair. "Taem, now I know you heard me when I praised you... Is that how you respond to Mommy?"

"No, mommy. I'm sorry, you just taste so good. That's why  I was in my own little world with your pussy. Thank you for praising me. You know I love when you do that. Can I continue to worship you?"

You instantly felt the aching of your sex when you pulled him away from you. You want to regret it, but you also know he must obey you.

"Fine, but you know I like it when you respond to me. Got it."

"Yes."

You stare into his eyes with his hair still in your hand and his beautiful plump lips covered in your juices.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes... Mommy."

"Good boy."

You release his hair and guide the back of his head back to your pussy. Not that you needed to guide him, but you like being able to control him in this way.

Taemin returns to pleasuring you like he never stops. He licks away at your pussy, and the gushy sound of his tongue and your juices mixed has you hornier than ever.

"Mommy.. I love pleasuring you."

"I can tell. You see how wet I am."

"I love it.. can I feel your juices on my fingers?"

"Yes.."

Taemin turns his hand over and sticks his thick middle finger inside you, and you clench around him. He runs his thumb over your clit in circles.

You look down at him, and you can't get over the fact that you never expected to be on a bathroom sink with your legs spread with Taemin's head in between them during your bestie's wedding.

As if on cue, Taemin runs his tongue across his top lip slowly to savor your taste.

You grab him by the shirt and pull him in for a kiss. You slip your tongue into his mouth and savor the taste of yourself. These are the wild moments you miss.

Your tongue swirls around in his mouth as you two are locked in a passionate kiss. The combination of kissing him and his fingers working their magic on you is enough to tip you over the edge.

Taemin's skillful digits continue to pump into you, and you already feel yourself squirt on his middle finger.

"Finish me off," You pull away from Taemin and push his head back down.

Taemin holds onto you as he buries his face deep into your center, and he tongue fucks you because he knows that's what you like.

You both know your body is already so sensitive, and by the way, your hips are starting to buck you. The time to release is approaching.

You moan uncontrollably as Taemin's expert tongue explores every inch of your core, intensifying the pleasure coursing through your body. The anticipation builds, and with one final flick of his tongue, you explode in a mind-shattering climax.

Taemin comes back up and licks his lips again. "I will never get enough of how you taste, Mommy."

You hop off the sink and adjust your dress. Your legs are wobbly, and Taemin helps you with your dress.

You kiss Taemin on the cheek and say, "I might let you taste me again."

[azrielgreen]

I feel like no matter how hard I try I can’t get over jealousy and insecurity and constantly comparing myself to other writers in the fandom. It’s either I don’t write enough, or I don’t write fast enough, I don’t write interesting or unique enough. If I get kudos, someone gets more, if I get comments, someone gets more thoughtful comments. It’s like a dark spiral in my brain. Do you have any tips on pushing through despite all the inner turmoil and noise? I’d be very grateful for your help!! 🖤

Hello, love, I'm sorry for the delay in answering. I wanted to give your Ask the proper attention in answering it.

Comparison is the death of joy.

I think jealousy and comparison in fandom is rife and no matter how much positivity and success someone projects, they too have had their dark moments comparing hit counters and kudos. In a fandom of THIS size it's deeply unhealthy, I personally believe, for us all to be so interconnected and visible.

I also believe that writers should write for themselves and the joy of creating something and crafting it, never expressly FOR the outcome of comments/attention but of course, that's becoming the norm now. People write to be popular. I see so many people at this point in the fandom not getting anywhere near the same amount of interactions they were a year ago, so comparisons and jealousy unfortunately become widespread, and equally, cliques begin to form to police the remaining attention as it slowly simmers down.

My tips for pushing through this would be first and foremost, write for yourself. Keep your true passion alive by writing what you fucking LOVE! Writing for other people will only ever go so far because attention wanders, interest fades and hyperfixations dissolve. If you write for yourself first, and share second, then you'll always be true to your inner creator and you'll always have ideas, passions and authentic stories coming alive inside you.

Secondly, and I know how hard this is for people, but stop comparing as much as you can. There will always be someone who has more than you and there are people who have less than you. Writing is art, art is to make people feel things they would not otherwise feel. To provoke humanity and lead us towards self exploration. To give comfort, empathy, guidance, joy, cathartic heartbreak and much more! I think so much of the true meaning of writing has been lost by the imposing domination of social media in fandom. I always recommend people trying to find that spark again, that little flash of magic that reminds you why you started.

And thirdly, this is hardest to hear, I know, but when you feel like this, it's usually a good indication to take a break. When you feel anxious, unhappy or low, you're going the wrong way. Move away from what is causing this, especially if it's anything on the internet - a dangerous and often toxic microcosm with an echo chamber effect.

Writing in real life is a beautiful thing, too.

Write something just for you, don't tell anyone, then orphan it, never read the comments, and move on. Rekindle your passion however you can, romanticise your methods, find new sources of inspiration and above all, please, have fun! and if you're not having fun in fandom - a place intended for fun and fuck all else - then please, take a break, love. Nothing is more important than your mental health.

P.S - also take into a account how MASSIVELY skewed A03 stats are due to longevity/legacy fics. There is ✨NO WAY ON EARTH✨ if I posted YD today it would make it into the top 1000 fics out of 24k and that would be wonderful still, that has always been my experience in the past. No comparison is ever justified or solid and it is truly the death of joy. Write for you, for your friends, and the people who will read it in 10 years time who NEED it. Nothing else matters.

💜💜💜

[slxsherwriter]

Pack Expansion

Fandom: House of 1000 Corpses, 3 from Hell, Firefly trilogy

Parings: Otis Driftwood x Reader

Word Count: 3, 724

Warnings: Otis Driftwood is his own warning?, cannibalism, kidnapping, death, blood & gore

Series: Monsters in Plain Sight

Author's note: This sort of started off as a joke fic that took a turn into an entirely different direction. Come on now, The Midnight Wolfman? Foxy has been hiding something from the family. Hope everyone enjoys. As always, not beta read so mistakes are mine.

You had long since given up the fight over whether or not the Firefly house was your home. It had been declared for you, long before you had come to the realization. The last to pick up on in fact. Sure, you had accepted the family as your pack. It was hard not to with the increased amount of time you spent around them and at the house. Otis in particular. But to call it a home? Something you hadn't exactly had in years.

When Otis had officially laid claim on you, there was no chance to deny it. Your wolf recognized its alpha and accepted the claim. No fight, no hesitation. Well, maybe a little fight. Neither of you would have enjoyed it if you had just rolled over immediately.

So, you had given up the fields that you had called your own for the better part of two years and moved into the house. Chaos tended to reign more often than not. But there was rarely a shortage of prey or something to keep you entertained. Not simply from Otis either. The entire family fell into that category. On occasion though, things shifted from the enjoyable chaos that dominated life into something else.

The lazy, relaxed atmosphere of the home permeated through everything it seemed. All but impossible to ignore. Lounged on the couch, you were taking up all the space, stretched and relaxed. The worn in material was soft and comfortable, molded to your body perfectly. Baby was settled in the chair, legs thrown over the arm of it, playing with her hair. For once, she was quiet. The normally talkative woman had found an ease just sharing space with you and with the atmosphere, it wasn't necessary to talk. It was a challenge not to let the content rumble come from you. After being alone for so long, yes it was an adjustment but the pack abjm that you ultimately were was thrilled with the fact that you had found a proper place.

Movement from upstairs indicated that Otis was finally breaking away from whatever project that he was working on and had been toiling away with for hours on end. When he got inspired, there was nothing that could stop him. A habit that you were happy to let him indulge in since most of the time, it gave you the opportunity to slip from the house for a run, a patrol, or a hunt. Whatever you fancied at the time.

“Ya wanna go out tonight?” Baby's voice broke you out of your indulgent haze, causing you to glance from the TV to her. She hadn't shifted her gaze, still playing with her hair absently, chewing away at a piece of gum. “Just me and you. Ya know, a real girls night. We'll hit up the bar, get shitfaced, see if we can find any fun for the night. Come on, Bunny. We've been cooped up for too long.” Finally, her eyes unglued themselves from the TV. Admittedly, the idea was a bit enticing. Even if you couldn't get shitfaced with her. It brought about the possibility of getting a proper snack.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” The sound that came from her couldn't be classified as anything other than a squeal of excitement. It was amusing, like a pup discovering their tail for the first time. She was more aware and smarter than most gave her credit for but Baby might have been the most unhinged of the pack. She had been raised in this, brought up to know no other thing. At least from your understanding. So, it made sense. “Would be good to get a stretch and see if we can't find something to sink my teeth into.” Playfully, you snapped your jaw, human teeth clashing together, which just made her laugh harder.

Steps thudding down the stairs brought the both of you out of the moment. Too light to be Tiny or Rufus. Meaning there was only one culprit.

“The fuck are you two going on about?” Otis appeared around the corner, eyeing the both of you suspiciously. Though, with the trouble that Baby could cause, he could hardly be blamed. Before you could answer, Baby cut you off.

“Bunny and I are gonna go out tonight!” Bouncing now in her seat, her entire body was practically vibrating in excitement.

“Oh, is that so?” Red rimmed blue eyes turned to you, brow raised. As if challenging the statement that his sister had made. A shrug of your shoulders was the response, though you accompanied it with a smile.

“Yeah. What's the harm in having a little bit of fun? Besides, it's not like the freezers haven't been a little lacking lately anyway.” That might have been the wrong thing to say because the shift in his demeanor and expression was abrupt and vicious. You had to backtrack a little bit, since the words had been taken as an insult to his ability to provide. “It's the time of year, lack of people moving through, I know. Don't see nearly as many when I'm out on a run. Ain't a lack of trying. But maybe, we can pull a few guys that won't be missed, at least right away.” Baby always grabbed attention wherever she went. Which meant that it shouldn't be difficult to snag the attention of some asshole with a wandering eye.

Otis seemed to think it over for a few moments before letting out a small grunt. An agreement to the statement.

“Bring me back something to play with then.” That was about as much acceptance as you would get. Nothing else was said as the man wandered off to the kitchen, leaving a silence in his wake. The sound of the TV hadn't reached your consciousness, eyes lingering on the spot where he had disappeared. That was until a pillow smacked you right upside the head. The attack was accompanied with giggles.

“Hey! You said we were going out. No thoughts of following after him for a fuck.” Yeah, well, that couldn't exactly be denied. If that sort of game was started, the two of you wouldn't end up leaving wherever you were at for a few hours. Which, in turn, would end up ruining Baby's night.

“We are still going out, don't get your panties in a twist.” The crouch protested movement, creaking and shifting with your movement. Legs swung over the edge, you sat up and stretched out. “I'll go find RJ, see if we can take the truck.”

“You're the best!” You had barely abandoned the couch before the blonde was taking the now empty spot. She passed along a wink before turning her attention back to whatever horror movie was playing on the television.

***********************

The bar had been utterly packed, bodies from wall to wall. You hadn't thought that there were even this many people in Ruggsville. Music had pumped through the speakers, leaving it impossible to talk to anyone without shouting. The stench of sweat and arousal permeated the air, laying heavy enough that surely even humans could pick up on the scents.

It was fertile hunting grounds. Quite literally when it came to the two of you. Baby had enjoyed the attention, moving from person to person, trying to find the right one to bring back home. If she wasn’t about to go off to have a little fun before dragging someone off into the night.

You had a few drinks, barely feeling a buzz, and had been a little more particular about who was grabbing your attention. A few choices had appeared good. Otis's words echoed in the back of your head. He wanted a plaything, though he didn't specify for how long he wanted that plaything to last. Something that did go into consideration. If you focused solely on that, you would likely miss your chance for your own plaything. Snickering softly with no one to ask why, you shook your head. Would your alpha get jealous? Seemed like he might. Even if it couldn't go both ways.

Jealousy was a pointless endeavor. None of those bodies meant shit to Otis, even if the wolf occasionally liked to grumble about it. That was settled though when you were allowed to chase one or two of them down after they accidentally escaped from the house. Quote on quote.

Eyes finally landed on a couple that was more hidden in the corner of the room. Ah, now there was a promising prospect. The first anyone had piqued your interest the entire night. From there, it had been easy to purchase some drinks, make yourself available for approach, and flirt when the woman came wandering over first. You had them hook, line, and sinker when he wandered over and settled down. The heavy arm first rested against the back of the booth, as if there was any question about where it would end up. Her hand found it's place on your thigh first before his arm slid down.

Baby found your eyes from across the room and you nodded. It would be best for you to get both the bodies tied up and tossed in the back of the truck under a trap so that Baby could bring her guy back without any sort of issue. Less questions from both parties, less chance of someone running off, easier hauling back to the house. And, the benefit was having Baby occupied with the man that she had found.

A little more damage that you would have liked happened to occur with your chosen plaything. The shift had been quick and she had knocked out without struggle as her head met the side of the truck with a satisfying thud. Claws had torn into flesh, leaving jagged and gaping wounds that might just end his life before returning to the house. All caused when he had decided to make a run for it, shouting his head off. That would draw unwanted attention and was simply unacceptable. A slash to his back had him falling before one single curved claw dug into the flesh of his cheek, yanking to tear the flesh. Cries of pain rang out into the night air but no one was around to hear it. Thankfully. Everyone was inside and too focused on enjoying their night. That music that had hurt your ears so much before was now a blessing.

RJ always had some extra rope in the back and dirty rags were a dime a dozen. Stuffing one into his mouth took care of the noise problem. Tying them both up from there took a little bit of time, you weren't used to having to restrain. The hunt was always better when they were able to run and scramble. But, it was managed and the tarp went over them, making it look like there wasn't anything but tools and other necessary things for repair in the back.

Baby had significantly better luck, though she was dealing with one where you had two. The two were intertwined as you drove back to the house, leaving you to focus solely on the roads and making sure that the two bodies remained in the bed of the truck.

She took her prey inside the house, leaving you with yours outside. Shaking your head, you pulled the tarp back and surveyed the mess that had been left behind. It seemed that the woman was just waking while the man was alive, but more in that way of clinging to life out of desperation more than anything. He wouldn't be a good chase. But there was enough there to have a few extras thrown in the freezer with an extra snack or two for you in your wolf form. Otis had just opened the door when your nose twitched. The smell carried on the wind in your direction, giving you enough time to anticipate what was coming.

Back ramrod straight, the quarry in the truck was forgotten about.

“Bunny, are you fucking listening?” You hadn't been. A low growl worked, growing in volume by the second. Nothing moved in the tree line, the cattle remained unperturbed, and the dogs were relaxed along the porch and towards the gate. “Bunny!”

“There's another wolf.”

“Another wolf? The fuck do you mean another wolf?” The potential threat had at least forced him to pay closer attention to your reactions rather than what he had been focused on, moving to grab the gun from his pocket. Not that it would do much besides piss a wolf off but it would give him a chance to get inside the house. Protective instincts rose, overwhelming every sense of self preservation that had been honed over the years.

“There's another wolf on the property. And getting closer. Get inside….” Your eyes snapped in the southern direction, near the gate before a car appeared. A car? Truck to be exact and it looked beat to hell. The person inside made a howl and instead of Otis listening to you, he began laughing. However, the sound died off and the car moved through the gate faster when you shifted and lowered closer to the ground, ready to attack. Otis may have thought that this was all a joke but that scent never lied. Whoever was in that car was a werewolf. Underlying it though was something familiar. Not that your mind allowed htat to process when all that was screaming was protect, attack, defend.

The car came to a stop, the headlights not dying down, focused directly on your prowling form. Otis was moving towards the car, gun no longer drawn. The growl only grew in volume and ferocity, your body inching forward to try and stay ahead of him but there was nothing that was deterring him.

“Holy fucking shit….”

“The fuck you doing here?”

“Oh, I think that the question should be about that.” The man pointed in your general direction, causing you to snap your maw, drool flying. The growl had never stopped, the sound rivaling the rumble of the dying engine in the car. Ears pinned back, the scent was so much stronger now that he was standing in front of you. There was no denying that this man was a werewolf. Had Otis not picked up on the fact that the man was not at all disturbed or worried about the fact that there was a giant beast snarling and gnashing not ten feet from him?

“Bunny, calm the fuck down already. This here is Foxy, he's my brother.” Brother? Why the hell hadn't he been at the house? The entire family, minus Spaulding, was supposed to be here. Huffing, you were still unsure but took a step back and shifted once more.

“Brother or not, he’s a wolf.” Otis was smiling, at more ease than you had seen him in awhile. He was slapping Foxy on the shoulder, still chuckling. Foxy had gone from smiling to watching you, posture a little more tense than before. There was a sharpness to his teeth and a flash of color to his eyes that wasn't natural for a human. Proof that your instinct and that your nose had been correct. Otis could feel the tension, he had to with the placement of his hand against Foxy. His head cocked to the side ever so slightly, eyes jumping between you both.

“I gotta fucking admit. Her nose ain't been wrong before…” Foxy grunted before his shoulders sagged.

“Ah, shit. This ain't how I wanted to tell you.”

“She's right? Fuck me!” Foxy rolled his eyes and shoved Otis off of him. “How long you been hiding this shit? That Midnight Wolfman shit a fucking inside joke?”

“Oh, fuck off. I ain't been hiding shit. Shit happened about four months ago. Didn't know fuck all about what was happening.” A newly turned wolf. Now, that would explain why he hadn't reacted as strongly to your presence as you did to his own. That, or he had been around other wolves and was able to contain it. The thought that he could bring a pack down on the family didn't settle well, flaring that desire to protect all over again. “Still don't really understand shit. Definitely can't do that,” he offered and motioned towards you. Shift on command? That had to be what he was referring to when he spoke.

“You can't control it?” Otis stepped back for a moment, looking at the man, now almost as if he was an actual threat.

“It takes a lot of fucking time,” you offered before Foxy could speak. If he really was a new wolf with no sort of mentorship, the last four months would have been hell. Likely not nourished correctly, injuries that wouldn't heal properly, and suffering through a lot of pain without embracing and understanding the shifts. The same thing young, pureblooded wolves went through. Like it or not, if the man was really family, then that meant he was part of your pack. By extension, you were responsible now for teaching. “Time and work. There's a reason young wolves generally don't master it until their teenage years.” Another huff passed your lips into the night air as your gaze jumped between Otis and Foxy.

Before you could offer any help or guidance, the moans from the bed of the truck broke the silence. Right. There were play things. A thought struck you. An injured animal always worked best when it came to teaching one how to hunt. Less likely to fight back, cause harm, and easier to catch. Build up confidence. Maybe it hadn't been such a bad thing that the man had put up that struggle.

“Ya got something you wanna share?”

“You asked for a plaything.” Pulling the tarp off revealed the two bodies. “She's all yours. Shouldn't be anything more than maybe a lingering concussion. He decided he didn't want to get into the truck so…” You shrugged with the explanation. Otis peered over the edge and took in the prey.

“Not bad, Bunny.” The praise had your spirit lifting a bit. “What do you plan on doing with him? Doesn't look like he is gonna give you a run.”

“No, but….” You glanced towards Foxy and Otis followed your look.

“What a great God damn idea.” Foxy looked confused for a moment, brow raising as you both were assessing the man.

“What?”

“We are going on a hunt.”

*****************

By the time you returned to the house, both you and the newly turned wolf were covered in blood. A rib was settled between your teeth as he was working on a section of the ulna bone. Dragging behind the both of you was the remaining carcass that could be tossed into the freezer. Not as much as you had planned but it was better than nothing at all.

Foxy was most certainly related to the Fireflys. That was no longer doubted. He reminded you of Otis in several ways but didn't have quite the domineering sense behind him. Dangerous and deadly? Yes. Without a doubt. But his personality was a little more calm, his mind a little less focused on the big world. Frighteningly easy to talk to and within an hour of being out in the dark, he was cracking jokes and actually getting a laugh out of you.

It would take a lot more time and effort for him to learn the shift on command but he didn't fight his nature like some who were turned. That alone had him ahead of the game. From your understanding, he planned on laying low at the ranch for some time, given the amount of land and space that was here.

“Not too bad a night for a newbie.” He chuckled, looking down at the bone that was nearly out of marrow from the sounds of it.

“Have to say, you make the shit look easier than it is. But you make it make sense.”

“You'll get there. Like I said, takes time. Probably would have taken you years on your own. I say, we go out nightly, especially over the time when it's closer to the moon, and you'll get there in a few months.” A hummed response was what you got as the both of you trudged up the stairs. Slinging the remains over your shoulder, you motioned for him to head inside. “I'm gonna take care of this before settling in. You got questions, just come find me. Don't need shit getting out of hand while you're in the house.” Instead of questioning it, he nodded and headed inside, still gnawing away on the bone. Like a pup. You could have swore that if he still had his tail, it would be swaying.

Chuckling, you headed down to the basement, moving past Tiny's room with a wave to the giant, before tossing the meat onto the table.

The instinct to protect had come up without thought. Still, the hair on the back of your neck was half on end with the adrenaline that remained coursing through your veins. Threats as a wolf were never taken lightly and over the years, threats were dealt with on your own so it just heightened everything.

“Have to say, you make a pretty damn good guard dog.” The voice rang out, unexpected enough that it actually made you jump. Shit. The chuckle meant that Otis hadn't missed it either. “Aww, did I sneak up on the big bad wolf?” Rolling your eyes since your back was turned to the man, you grunted in response while using a claw to slice up the remaining meat.

His hands found your hips, the length of his frame suddenly pressed against yours. Any growl died in your throat, the sound choked out by the shifting gears within your consciousness. Seemed he wasn't too upset about you stepping across some boundaries. The hand sliding across your abdomen and up to your chest would have been far more demanding and harsh, its placement wholly different. Teeth sunk into sensitive flesh and a different sort of keeling growl took place of any other sound. Maybe the night wasn't entirely a waste after all. And just maybe having another wolf around wasn't such a bad thing. As long as Otis didn't go getting any ideas...

[orangepeelshortbreadcookies]

Hiya! You might have noticed that I've been leaving a lot of likes on your page because I've just read all your fics on AO3 and LOVED them. Especially your modern interpretation of Benophie, with Sophie being East Asian and how you weave her culture into her character beautifully.

(Also your 'villainous viscount' fic has got my mind spiralling with a potential Benophie offshoot but hit me up if you want to know more).

Also, (yees I'm gushing because I've really enjoyed scrolling through your blog). You made some really interesting points about Pen and LW and how they handled her in the show. I personally think the misdeeds she did as LW make her a complicated character but one of possible redemption that I think they didn't quite land this season.

And some Eloise stans!! Yay! I have such hopes for her in future seasons but I was a little disapointed by this season, it started great then slightly spiralled downhill in my opinion. What were your thoughts on the writing for her this season?

OMG hii what a lovely ask I got to wake up to! Lovely day to you Hope (can I call you Hope? Or is it Paige?)

I adore Sophie and Benedict in 'the origin of love' series with all my heart. I find it funny that my relationship with these versions of the characters started so innocently, with Benedict meeting a cute barista at Starbucks and somehow, at some point, it became Interludes.

(I'd love to hear your conspiracies (affectionate) about Villainous Viscount!verse, but who said I didn't have Benophie offshoot of my own already? Maybe I've even already written a little bit of it.)

1000% agree with you that Penelope's misdeeds as Whistledown make her complicated. I do think that they did not land her redemption arc this season like at all, the biggest, foundational problem being that the people affected by her actions the worst never got the space to address the hurt she caused them. The writing and framing of Penelope's "redemption" and "apology" this season are more so she can feel better about herself, and not about her victims, which I find incredibly disingenous.

Eloise, Kate, Cressida. My girls deserved so much better than what they got. My feelings about this season's writing? Short answer: Disappointed, but not surprise. For Eloise, I would have loved it if she had struggled and grown with her feminist beliefs more. I don't buy it that she and Pen become friends again at the end. I don't like it that El had to become the mediator between Colin and Pen, and I hate how her character was twisted to make Cressida look worse in comparison to Pen. But such were the fates of every character who is not Penelope this season I guess. I've said before and I'll say it again, Penelope carries into part 2 a Protagonist nuclear bomb and it infected everyone with stupidity and amnesia radiation. The collateral damage LW has caused is wiped clean by other characters becoming Penelope's doormats. I hate it. I started the season weary, but wanting to be proved wrong. I finished it by thinking: Well, that's exactly what I have thought. At least the season's over. We can focus on characters other than Penelope and the Featheringtons now. Good riddance.

Thank you so much again for the sweet ask!

XXX

Thea

[project-sekai-facts]

As a person who hasn’t played any other rhythm game, why do you think prsk is so successful in a category where there are so many other games to choose from? I guess this would also relate to why you quit the other games you were playing?

hatsune miku.

also i think the story is project sekai is very engaging and generally much better than rhythm games in terms of writing quality and storytelling. i can't comment on bandori because i never got into the story, but compared to D4DJ, proseka is much more consistently good and deep. that's not to say there's anything wrong with D4DJ's more lighthearted overall tone aside from when it gets into questionable shit but sometimes it feels like there's no stakes even when the story tries to say that there are, and generally it's written more like a comedy slice of life than prsk's very realistic and heavier slice-of-life style.

the same can be said for SIF of which i read 6 chapters 3 years ago before skipping literally everything else. the stories were pretty simple again and obviously some people are gonna prefer that over prsk's sometimes more heavy-hitting tone but from a critical pov project sekai does have the better writing.

both the other franchises i mentioned do have really good writing at times. while love live is ultimately slice-of-life with comedy it does have some exceptional character writing, as does D4DJ. Some of the D4DJ stories released in the last year are also amazingly well-written and have dealt with much heavier topics and handled them really well. but that's enough of me gushing about those.

i think its interesting that while this game has always been pretty popular as a idol mobage outside asia, EN suddenly exploded last may-june and i'm not entirely sure why (i guess summer break in america and maybe some adverts and tiktok?). like i used to be able to T20K-30K by barely playing the events and suddenly i was getting T100Ks when I didn't change how i played at all.

Also like. not the best way to judge but when i first checked this fandom's ao3 page in february last year it had about 300 fics and it very suddenly started rapidly going into the 1000s starting that May-ish. like, very rapidly. as of posting this we're at 15516 (only 6k less than enstars which is a much older game) and two ships made it into AO3s top 100 this year so that's a very significant boom in popularity just to back up my bad tiering strats.

i also think tiktok definitely played a part in the game's EN popularity. i don't go there but the tiktok fanbase is huge, right? and then it runs on algorithm shit so people get that stuff on their FYP and download the game. word of mouth but digital style. also crossover with genshin somehow that i think has roots on that app.

the thing is that none of those directly have to do with why people would play proseka over the others and i think that's it. prsk has become an outright popular game outside of the idol-rhythm label. loads of people at my college know what hatsune miku: colorful stage is but barely any of them know enstars or bandori which are the other big names.

i think in someways it's less project sekai being the "preferred" game and more project sekai being the "known" game.

what the fuck did i just write i'm so sorry

[tonberry-yoda]

You know I'm here for the best bok kakyoin but I do just Wana say congratulations on 1000 Jesus that is a huge mark I'm so happy for you it been long overdue for you to hit 1000 and I know you will hit 2000 in no time but rlly congratulations from the bottom of my heart

But for the request I was wondering if you can write a kakyoin x reader fic where the reader ends up healing his wounds from dio but it takes a minor toll on the reader to help him but what it would be like after they help him and stuff .-♡

Again CONGRATULATIONS 🎊 👏

Toll - Kakyoin

notes - OMFG THANK YOU!!! Literally dude, you have been someone who has been here since the beginning and I want to thank you for that. You are so full of surt and love and I literally cannot thank you enough for being so amazing and such a good mutual!!! Thanks again and I really hope you enjoy this lil fic <33333

word count - 348

You had been in and out of Kakyoin's room for what felt like weeks. It had been a rough recovery for him, but you were so thankful that he lived through that whole mess. And he was so tough. He was really pulling through and he was starting to look much heathier.

You, on the other hand, were getting tired. Very tired. You didn't blame it on Kakyoin though, he needed the help and you were more than willing to supply it, but god did it make you tired.

All of this was taking a minor toll on you. You needed to rest, but you told yourself that you wouldn't stop taking care of Kakyoin until he was fully better.

When he was fully better, you had never seen a man so happy. Months it took him to recover. You were nothing but proud. He had been through hell, complete and utter hell, and now he was smiling. You had done a great job, you knew that, but it really was time to get some rest.

"Feeling better, Kakyoin?" you asked, walking into his room with a plate of food. He was sitting at his desk, painting something beautiful.

"Much better," he smiled and took the plate. "Thank you for taking care of my, y/n. It really means a lot." He cupped your cheeks in his hands and rubbed your dark eye bags with his thumb. "You look exhausted though, are you doing alright?"

You just nodded and leaned into his touch. He was so warm.

"Let's get you some rest, okay, y/n?" he walked over and pulled the covered off of his bed and crawled in, making enough room for you. "Come on," he opened up his arms to you and you chuckled. "What's so funny? I want you to get some rest, love."

You couldn't say no to that, so you crawled in his arms and immediately fell fast asleep. There was nothing better than having a boyfriend like Kakyoin who was so willing to take care of you even after everything he suffered.

~~~~~

jjba masterlist (2) (3) | pinned post

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated <3

~~~~~

[babblydrabbly]

Flufftober Day 31 | Rick Flag x Reader

a/n - "And with that the 2022 season comes to an end" ♡

Alright kiddos, I gave @flufftober a shot! This one will be my last fic this year. Have my favorite fluffy trope: idiots in love.

prompt - a sweet treat

fluff - 1000 words - warnings: argus!agent reader. gn!reader. mutual pining. food mention. pre-the suicide squad 2021. admittedly the author's size kink might be showing in this one a little bit what who said that

It’s been an entire season of missed chances, and Rick Flag is officially sick of it. 

Between his time away on missions and your time away from base, it’s as if the universe is trying to keep him away but not this time.

When he hears word that you’re coming in today, he doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t want to risk a prison-wide lockdown or an emergency leave getting in the way. 

Today’s the last week of the year— the last week you bake anything for the office— and Rick will be damned if you close up shop before he gets the chance to try something, anything you’ve made for all those morons who don’t even like you as much as he does.

He’s sick of hearing Harcourt and Economos' damn bragging.

Your cookies, your cupcakes, your oh-so-amazing fruit tarts with, quote: “The sweetest berries we’ve ever tried”. 

Harcourt. Rick impatiently hits the open button to the elevator several times before it even stops. Harcourt doesn’t even like sweets. Somewhere in his gut Rick knows she’s just doing it to irk him. Knows that you’re his favorite comms operative and more.

The doors open with a soft chime as Rick steps out into the hallway. 

He pauses before knocking. The smell of cinnamon and other spices he can’t name waft through the door of your small, Belle Reve issued living quarters— and suddenly Rick fucking Flag is nervous.

Did he really just leave Harcourt mid-sentence and march all the way across the facility to come see you? 

Rick swallows thickly and blinks like he’s just realized where he is.

Quickly running his fingers through his sandy hair, Rick clears his throat and knocks before he steps away from the door. 

You ask your unexpected guest to wait a minute before yanking it open. Rick’s eyes widen as much as yours do.

“Oh! Colonel,” You greet with just about as much confusion.

He’s seen you in plenty of different gear, but never an apron and a pair of mittens. You step aside and let Rick into your small space— Nothing much more than a kitchen and a double bed just beyond that. 

He opens his mouth to speak when that smell of something absolutely divine hits him even harder than before. 

“Something wrong, Flag?”

“No, I—” The colonel takes a large step inside and pauses. You’ve never seen the grown man look so sheepish. “I heard you were bringing something in today and I… well, it’s forward. But I figured, I always miss out. Thought I’d catch you before Waller drags me away.”

The tension in Rick’s shoulders eases as your face lights up. You offer him a small laugh before turning to open the oven. 

“Well, you’re just in time.” You say. Rick watches you take a large tray of something out and follows you over to the counter where a towel is waiting. 

You set the tray down atop it and Rick gets a good look at some of the biggest cinnamon rolls he’s ever seen.

“You made all that ‘n this little kitchen?” 

You shrug shyly. That small smile plays on your lips— the one Rick can't help but stare at. “Had to go into town for some things, but yeah.” 

Rick lets you guide his large frame over to the stool which serves as the only sitting place in the entire room. He looks a little funny there— about three times too big for such a small seat. His knee even bends with how long his legs easily reach the ground. 

You make quick work of scooping one of the center rolls onto a plate, but it’s the next part that has Rick locked on you with wide hazel eyes again. 

Dolloping a large spoonful of cream cheese frosting on top of the roll with precision, you smooth it out with the back until it looks like something out of a cookbook. And then you do it— You swipe a lick of the spoon, just a bit. Your pink tongue darts over your bottom lip to catch a bit of frosting and Rick Flag’s pulse skyrockets like it hasn’t in a long damn time. 

You startle when Rick says your name a little too loud. 

“Sorry,” He shifts in his seat. Trying again in a calmer tone, he searches for the words carefully. “I might’ve also come up here to, uh, ask you something, now that I think about it.”

You arch a brow. 

An unfamiliar wave of hesitation washes over the man. Busying himself with the plate in front of him, he cuts off a piece of the roll with his fork and shoves it into his mouth.

“I was hopin’— Well, I was wonderin’— Christ, this is good.” He chokes out gruffly behind his fist.

Quietly, you place the spoon in your hand into the sink and take your time as Rick chews. When he’s finally through his first bite, you place your elbows on the counter and lean in so close Rick has to inch back. It’s a funny image. Like a fawn spooking a big bear.

“Richard, I’ve made something every week for the past three months in the hopes that at least my baking would catch your attention. And every week, something gets in the way. So I really, really hope your question is ‘Will you go out to dinner with me,’ or else I may just have to tie you up and make dinner for you right here instead.”

He blinks at you wordlessly several times. An eon seems to pass as your little bit of bravado fades. Did you really just hit on your superior? On Colonel Flag? You really just went and did it now, didn't you?

You shrink when he finally leans in to meet you, but where you expect more of that stunned look, you find a spark of heat instead.

“Alright...How about I do you one better and make something for you, huh? How about tonight?” 

You arch a brow at him, shocked. “You cook?”

“I grill.” He clarifies with a lopsided smile. “Don’t tell no one, but some of the other boys keep one over by the hangar. For when we get sick’a the mess hall food.”

With that hint of sugar and spice still on his tongue and the look in your eyes as he stands back up to his full height, Rick lets the doubt from earlier roll off him. 

‘I’ve made something every week for the past three months…’ For him. 

Rick reaches up to grasp your chin between his calloused fingers gently.

“Let me do all the cookin’ for you this time, darling,” A smirk forms when he notices the flush creep up your face. “And if you feel like it, y'can still tie me up after if you want to.”

[servicpop]

ZO THE BRO :D

SOME CALLAHN DRABBLE CUZ I DREAMT OF GETTING BACKSHOTS FROM HIM 😋

this man is probably in his like late 30s going to 40s and after many failed tries at relationships in his 20s he probably decided to dedicate his life to being a detective only using his hand for relief when it's really necessary ( he thinks lust is a distraction 😪) so when he was put on a case to catch you he stopped for like a few months till he caught you, sure yeah you were pretty and everyone was eyeing you like a piece of candy or wtv but dude just wanted to introgate you so they put you in a cell till they got their schedule free but you being the best criminal in the area breaks free👌👌 he tracks you down to a...motel??? at first he thought it was a trap till he dug around some more only to find that it was kid of a hideout spot for some criminals including you it also had a casino and strip club which made sense to him kinda? NOW THIS CAN GO BOTH WAYS

FIRST : You went there cus you had no cash n u needed some so what better way to do it then rob some money off of old nasty guys :3 so being the pretty little thing you are you work your ass off in a firly bunny outfit yk the classic leather one with the ears and clip on tail that barely hides anything, and like always you were a hit everyone loves you getting more than 1000 as tip from one guy, callahan walks in ready to bust your ass and some other criminals thinking you were some prevert like the other men here only to find that you in fact were not a watcher you were the whole show yourself and damn the second he saw you he forgot why he was doing this whole thing, of course you spotted him and walked out to him after the show he let you go this once only if you never utter a word to anyone about him not being able to move an inch after seeing ( and the tent in his pants as well )

OR

SECOND OPTION : he tracks down your location to the hotel or motel wtv and goes to the lobby pointing a gun to the receptionist head asking which room were you in, they give him the room with the keys telling him which floor you're on, he goes to the room breaking the door down expecting you to have a gun or be armed he was ready for shooting anyways but you were no where to be found?? your stuff was there but you weren't, he was gonna go and yell at the receptionist before he heard soft humming from the bathroom, bingo, he breaks down the door (mans got an obsession with breaking down doors like a badass cop, cannon I was the door )

only to find you showing catching you (and him) off gaurd, all sounds stopped registering and you swear you sww him drooling, zoning out taking I every inch (sorry its a bit freaky :3) he only focused again when you stopped the water and approached him slowly with the classic "how about I help you out and you let me go this time ?" looking down at his not so obvious tent, you offer him a blow job and goddamn he saw white like pure white man couldn't even comprehend what was happening silently cursing him self for missing out on this much pleasure, he felt drunk but off of blow jobs?? he didn't even think that that was possible, he let you go ofc cuz he's a man of his word only after filling your throat for 20 times :] hands? what wandering hands? Well yeah maybe he did let his hand roam your body focusing here and there but hey that's only to hear your pretty noises while they try to come out but all they could heard as were muffled moans and sobs as you choke on him, sure he made you cum 3 times but taht wa sonly to see your reaction ! can you blame him? he did all that to help with the bj, hey you're the one that offered he's just adding little touches

I MIGHTVE GOTTEN CARRIED AWAY A BIT I APOLOGISE 🙏 BUT WHAT DO WE THINK DOES THIS HAVE POTENIAL TO BECOME A FANFIC???

take my job nonnie !! this is so delicious ... and yes this will probably be the plot of the next Callahan fic ( maybe after awhile cuz I have a Callahan domestic au drabble in the making and I wanna give Adrien some love again )