#Constantly thinking about their size difference and everything that comes with that

[xlostinthedreamfics]

Sugar Rush (Wooyoung Fic) !PREVIEW!

Note: I've been itching to write something like this for a while, and once I saw those Wooyoung Arena pictures, I just knew I had to. I wouldn't be a true tease if I didn't just start with a little preview of what is to come. I hope you love slow burns as much as me because I am excited for this one.

Summary: Tired of the poking and prying of those around you in regards to your love life, pushed you to find an escort hiring service where Jung Wooyoung would teach you more than you know.

Whoever said money can’t buy you happiness might have been right, but money could also make you less miserable to an extent. Being brought up in a household where you were constantly setting goals, working to meet those expectations, and continuing to aim for greater lengths in terms of success has brought you to where you are now, sitting in the nicest penthouse in the city. Your space is as large as can be, surrounded by windows to see the world beneath, but still feeling like a princess locked away in a tower, completely and utterly alone. Sure, your wealth has brought you plenty of opportunities, experiences to travel, and invitations to parties of the highest honors. If you’re someone on the outside looking in, this life is ideal; it’s a life worth sacrificing so much for. But, what if you sacrificed everything in your life to get here, and all you can think about when you’re at the top is how high of a fall it will be when you jump? 

Being a young CEO in this day and age comes with its benefits; you decide when you feel like trying, and today was exactly that. You lay in your king-size bed, surrounded by pillows stuffed with the finest duck feathers your assistant could find. The bed was cold, your sheets rubbing against your skin, causing shivers to dance down your back. It was the day of preparations for the yearly award ceremony at your company, a gathering where you would win yet another award, where you would have to give yet another speech on how much of your life you have committed to your work. The applause and the praises fill the venue where your closest colleagues and employees celebrate, but go eerily silent as soon as you step foot inside your home. The dribbling of the water from the faucet continuously hits the sink floor as you stare into your fridge now, trying to fuel yourself up with something before putting in some effort to get ready for the day. The eggs began to blur together as you spaced out, the sound of your phone making you jump, as you shut the fridge hastily. You glanced at your assistant’s name on the caller ID, swiping to answer, “Hey.”

“So we have your dress ready for tomorrow, I’m booking makeup and hair to arrive at around 3 pm to get you looking fabulous for your special day!” You could tell she was smiling on the other end; she loved events like this because she could dress you up like her doll, and you’d allow it. You knew nothing about makeup, fashion, hair, or shoes; all you knew was how to run your company, and that’s it. You didn’t have time to think about anything else. “It would’ve been amazing if we had a date for you, there’s a matching suit that goes with the dress that would just look killer on a handsome man. Perhaps you’ve had luck on those dating apps?” Her questions pricked at you like a daily non-relaxing acupuncture session. She loved to pry, to know your inner workings, especially in things you were so naive about, like dating, love, and sex. As soon as you got into college, the only thing you were rubbing between your two fingers was the pages on the books piled up on your desk, aiming to become valedictorian, and you did. Although when you looked out into the crowd during your speech, you weren’t greeted with applauding parents, but two empty chairs. Your parents had businesses of their own in completely different countries, and sometimes you wondered why they stayed married when they saw each other only a few times a year. It all came down to money; they were richer together than apart. 

“I’m not going into the office, can you reschedule my meetings for today?” You sighed into your phone, your assistant agreeing right away. She was used to these days of yours, which were noticebly becoming more frequent. You lay on your bed for a few more hours, your stomach not even bothering to grumble once since you skipped breakfast, almost as if it were exhausted along with you. You pulled your laptop that was sitting on your nightstand onto your lap, the bright screen making you squint. As soon as you unlocked it, you were bombarded with work emails, quickly closing them out and logging into the anonymous rich under 30 forum you were a part of. You liked to skim through the posts sometimes, trying to find normalcy among people in a similar situation to you. How to Dress for Your Success, Best Botox Clinics in the city, Using Your Business LP to save on taxes. You sighed, continuing to scroll until you stopped at a post from a few days ago, with only a few reactions and comments. You weren’t sure how you missed it, but you clicked it anyway: Rent a Boyfriend.

The posts from a few women raved about a website where you could hire escorts to come with you to public events, family affairs, or just on days when you need some company. 

LindaLety: I hired Choi San for an event for work, and he was so humble, so sweet, and had the best manners. Worth the money! 

Glamx98: Jeong Yunho is the epitome of beauty and grace. He treated me so well when he accompanied me to my family reunion and went along with my story so my family could stop asking about my love life. 

They included pictures along with long descriptions of what their experience was, raving about how professional and high-quality the service was. You clicked onto the website, an introductory page with the purpose of the escorts and their rules, which did make you feel a bit better since you’ve only heard weird things about these websites, but this one seemed promising. You clicked over to the array of people, stating their name, how long they’ve worked for this company, and some of their hobbies or fun facts. You saw the guys mentioned in the forum, completely booked out. “Damn.” You mumbled under your breath, hoping maybe one of them would be available as a date for your work event tomorrow. 

You continued to scroll, stopping at a man who was different from the rest. He had tattoos on his arms, his hair a bold, blonde color with streaks of baby blue peeking through. His low-rise jeans and cropped tee were stealing the show, posing as if he were rockstar in a band. His dark eyes made you tingle as you scrolled through his pictures. Jung Wooyoung. You liked that he was different, bold, daring, weird, some may say. Totally not your type, not a guy you would go for, but it’d be kind of fun to show up to the ceremony with him. His colorful exterior may have others double-take and raise an eyebrow, stirring interest in you, which is always good for business. You clicked on his availability, hoping, although it was a short notice, that maybe he would be available. The screen of the laptop twinkled in your eye as you smiled; Friday was open and available to book. You immediately confirmed, typing in your payment information, gaining access to a chat between you and Wooyoung. You drafted up a quick message on what the reason for the booking was, what the event was for, and asked for his measurements since you could get a suit ready for him. He responded rather quickly.

Wooyoung: Hi there, thank you for choosing me for this. I’ve attached my measurements, sizes, excited to see what you dress me in. I love color, or I could also do something simpler. Looking forward to meeting you, Ms. Y/N.

You felt your heart race as you came to realize what you had done, the excitement filling with dread as you slammed your laptop shut. You never thought you would be in this type of situation, hiring a date for an event to receive an award as a successful CEO. You trusted in the forum before, it never led you astray, so maybe this could work out? You could avoid the pressing and prying into your personal life, maybe gain some confidence to better propel you into the dating scene. Your computer dinged despite it being shut. You opened it up again, the chat between you and Wooyoung popping open again. 

Wooyoung: Providing my phone number as well so you can send me the details for tomorrow’s event, addresses, times, etc. See you tomorrow!

[saharaocean]

Perverts - txt

Soobin -

The car is parked. She’s sitting next to me, innocent, not knowing what she’s doing to me. I’m her boyfriend’s best friend, and that makes this shit so fucking forbidden, which only turns me on more.

My hand’s resting on my thigh, but in my head, she’s naked, no panties, legs spread wide for me. I imagine sliding my fingers through her wet, hot pussy, feeling her clench around my hand.

She has no idea I’m fucking her mentally right here, right now, can’t touch her because I know if I do, I’ll ruin everything. But that doesn’t stop me—it makes me want it harder.

I want to shove my cock in her mouth, make her swallow every inch while she looks at me scared and wanting it. I want to squeeze her tits hard, pinch her nipples until she screams.

But in reality, I can only brush her hand. And that drives me crazy.

I think about fucking her in this car, in public, with anyone able to walk by and catch us at any second. That makes me harder than anything.

I imagine spitting on her pussy before sliding two fingers in fast, wetting her, making her moan. I think about the size difference between us, how I make her tremble without even touching her.

It’s a dirty game only I can win. The boyfriend’s best friend with hands still, but a mind gone wild.

My cock is hard, and I just want her to kneel on the seat and suck me dry. But I know I can’t.

So I clench my fists again, bite my lip, imagine every filthy detail.

This is what I want. This is what I can’t have. And that’s the only reason I can’t stop craving her.

Yeonjun-

The heat rises just thinking about her, my neighbor. Every time I see her cross the hallway, that short skirt and innocent look, I can’t help but imagine everything.

In my head, she’s lying on my bedroom floor, naked, legs spread wide just for me. I’m deep inside her, slow at first, feeling her squeeze every inch of me.

I can’t touch her in reality, can’t cross that line because we’re neighbors, and I know any wrong move would ruin everything.

But in my mind, I’m filling her up to the brim, my cock buried deep inside her hot, tight pussy.

I feel her trembling as I thrust, her moans filling the room, but no one hears because it’s just a dirty dream.

I think about filling her pussy until she can’t take any more, about the creampie that floods her, spilling out as she shudders.

Then she moves on top of me, and I feel her soaking wetter, a squirt drenching me and driving me insane.

I imagine her flushed face, heavy breathing, body tense and shaking with every thrust.

It’s all forbidden—she’s my neighbor, and I’d never dare tell her out loud.

But in my head, I’m the only one who can give her that wild, deep pleasure, no holding back, no fear.

And even though I know it won’t happen, I can’t stop fantasizing about every drop she spills, every muffled moan she saves just for me.

This desire is mine, a dark secret that only comes out when I’m alone, thinking about her.

Beomgyu-

Beomgyu felt unable to concentrate on the lesson, as her gaze constantly drifted to her classmate. His presence was intoxicating, causing his senses to vibrate with every subtle movement. He inhaled deeply, trying to capture its seductive scent, a sweet perfume that seemed to permeate the air around him.

As the teacher continued to speak, Beomgyu's mind wandered to the forbidden fantasies that consumed him. He imagined her skirt slowly riding up, revealing her creamy thighs and the soft, supple skin she longed to touch. His imagination painted a vivid scene: he could almost feel the silky texture of his bare skin under his fingertips as he slowly and deliberately slid them between his legs. With each caress, she imagined her breath ragged, her thin hands clinging to the desk as her body quivered with pleasure.

He imagined her face, blushing and her eyes glazed with desire, oblivious to the intimate caress that was developing in her mind. But reality brought him back suddenly when he opened his eyes and found her diligently taking notes, oblivious to the erotic dance of his thoughts.

Beomgyu felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that this was a private fantasy, just for her.

Kai -

Kai couldn’t stop thinking about her. His best friend. The one who sat next to him like nothing was wrong. Like he wasn’t picturing her with her legs wide open, begging for him to fuck her.

Every night, it’s the same fantasy. She’s naked. Warm skin on his sheets, nipples hard, thighs trembling. He’s between them—breathless, cock rock hard, grinding against her wet cunt until she cries out for more.

In his mind, she looks up at him with needy eyes, moaning his name, begging him not to stop. And he doesn’t. He fucks her rough, dirty, holding her hips and slamming into her deep, making her take every inch. She’s soaked, tight, perfect—clenching around him as he loses control. He cums hard, whispering her name, wishing it was real. Wishing she was actually under him, full of him.

But then he opens his eyes. And she’s still just his best friend. Still smiling, still clueless. And he’s left with a hard-on and a head full of filthy dreams he can’t stop having.

Taehyun -

She works at the café he goes to every week. Polite. Sweet. Smiling like she has no idea what kind of filthy shit he thinks about every time she brings him his drink.

Taehyun can’t stop staring at her chest. Tight shirt, soft curves, nipples barely hidden. He imagines grabbing her by the waist, pulling her into his lap, and burying his face between her tits while she gasps. Licking. Sucking. Biting. He wants to leave marks, to taste her skin, to hear her whimper when his tongue circles her nipples slow and wet.

In his mind, she straddles him on one of the café chairs after hours. Her apron undone, tits bouncing in his face as he sucks them like he’s starving. He palms her ass, hard, grinding her against his bulge while her moans echo through the empty place. She tastes like sugar and sin. And he doesn’t stop until she’s dripping for him, begging him to fuck her right there on the counter.

But it’s just a fantasy. One he plays on repeat. Every time she smiles, every time she bends forward just a little too far. She has no idea how badly he wants to ruin her.

[sysig]

Spooning..... (Patreon)

[cybermindz]

✸ contains. nsfw, smut : fem! reader, dom/sub dynamics, brat taming ♡, daddy + sir kínk (i’m embarrassed look away), manhandling, size difference, slight dumbification, tummy bulge!! ♡, usage of petnames (baby, doll, darling). wc : 900+

thinking about sir lewis hamilton who disciplines you when you’re being extra bratty by fucking you, not fast and rough—but slowly.

leisurely yet still firm enough at the end of each plunge of his heavy cock—to give you the right amount of friction against your gummy walls that would have your thighs tremble. so, so deliberately and tantalizing whilst staring into your eyes in amusement to witness all that sass wipe off your face into a more debauched, drooling mess.

this wasn't just some sweet and gentle love making. this was a lesson.

it’s more punishing this way, unable to do anything but claw at his tattooed arms from the intensity—completely at his mercy. it was agonizing, no—more like patronizing as he made you feel everything on his pulsing hard length. from every protruding vein to each inch, ample to make your brain melt into mush.

sitting back on his haunches, his grip on your hips was so damn tight, unyielding. you could bet pretty little bruises of his fingers would be marked onto your skin when morning comes. he’s tugging your lower body up and up and up until your ass is lifted and only your upper back rested against the sheets. like a rag doll, using your body as if you weighed a feather—almost like you were nothing but his cock-sleeve. he’d push you until his leaking tip nearly slips out only to pull you back against him repeatedly, meeting up with each drag of his throbbing cock.

you felt him dig deeper from this angle if even possible, constantly prodding at your cervix. thin veil of lining barely covering the sight of an imprint of himself on your tummy. there was absolutely no rush with the way he was moving—like he wasn’t just some busy man, with all the time in the world in his hands.

"bein' a brat like that, giving me attitude, talking all mouthy. you just can't listen to your daddy, darlin’?" lewis drawls out the words so lazily, his tone taking on a sharp edge. he punctuates the last word with a slow roll of his hips—his other mind on the way your weeping cunt was clenching sporadically around him.

"mnnngh—daddy! it’s ah- no stop!" you protested, hands pushing at his abdomen weakly, which his abs twitched underneath your calluses in response.

lewis zeros in on the strings of slick breaking as soon as they formed where the two of you connected, evidence that you were enjoying this much more than you let out. stubborn girl, he’s got you creaming on him, the intensity and rhythmic ‘plap!’ ‘plap!’ ‘plap!’ of skin on skin burns your ears. your objections all feeble, you weren’t fooling anybody—definitely overwhelmed and high on the onslaught of pleasure.

“move those fuckin’ hands babydoll.” there’s that authoritative tone again, just thick in the air, feeling like a weight on you. so much so that your body can’t help but instinctively follow, hands falling to wrinkle up the blankets in tight closed fists. “oh, so now you wanna be my good girl? nah i don’t think so.”

he lets your lower half fall back on the bed so he can lean forward and press his body flat onto you, his face dipping into the crook of your neck. he leaves little nips on your plush skin, just to make you squirm even more—gruff voice whispering into your ear, “ ‘m not stopping just yet," he purred. “not until i get it through your thick skull to not disobey me again.”

he lets a hand wander until it rests on your throat, not quite squeezing but the heaviness a sign of authority over you. lewis was being cruel. he knew it too, and he was reveling in it. he wanted you to make sure you’d think twice before opening that smart mouth of yours the way you did earlier.

"i-i can't, sir puh—ngh! please i’m sorry!" you felt a mixture of emotions but embarrassment took the cake, tears dribbled from the corner of your eyes and wetting your hair. at this point you’re not even sure if you were begging for him to stop anymore or to just get on with it and fuck you harder.

"don’t give me that, you’ll take everything i give you like you always do. and if you’re gonna apologize, give it to me all nice. do it right, baby," he murmurs, voice rough. his digits grips your chin now, forcing it so you're looking into his fierce eyes. he’s staring down at you with an intensity like he's taking you apart with his irises.

" ‘m sorry f-for haaah—“ you can't even utter a proper sentence without a whine rippling through your throat each time his tip hits your sweet spot, “dadddddy— ‘s too much!”

you’re such a mess. seeing you in this state, all disheveled and whimpering, with a sweet little hiccup is exactly how he wanted you. lewis loved this, maybe a little too much. it was a high he'd never get tired of. he could see you losing that stubbornness you had before, his ministrations surely getting to you. your poor little brain going numb with only one thought—you’re close to coming.

his thumb brushes away the tears that wet your skin with a mocking satisfied grin. "silly girl, can’t even think,” he teases in a jeering coo. “c’mon, sweet baby you’re almost there. say it right, or we're gonna be at this allllll night.”

© 𝐂𝐘𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐙 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works.

[shysuccubusstuff]

Incubus! Caleb

Content: Incubus! Caleb + Modern! Caleb + Non proof-reader; Mention of previous love relationships (cheating involved) + Cunnilingus + Size difference + breeding kink + Multiple orgasms + Squirting + Service dom + Overstimulation + Rut

Note: Based on the gorgeous fanart of @bxngxsart thank you for this! Can't believe I had to restart this cause I didn't like it... I've been thinking about returning with succubus! reader... BUT WITH CALEB. You don't know how much I love the succubus/incubus concept with some instant loss... ദ്ദി(≧ڡ≦*) Sorry if it's messy or not really enjoyable!

Caleb and you had been going out for quite some time, with him suddenly confessing you soon after his return to university soon after he had dealt with whatever he had going on. He had planned everything, from your favourite food to the different gifts you had been sending to him as you used his contact number as a kind of notes app. Just how had he been able to get that limited edition plushie?! So you accepted without thinking twice, the two of you had known each other since you were children, with him always taking care of you since your parents had to spend most of their time abroad.

Your time dating had been almost like a fairy tale, with Caleb constantly showering you with gifts or his delicious food made with pure love... How could you even imagine that he was hiding something like that?

That night, you had decided to be the one to give him a surprise, surely he wouldn't expect his precious girlfriend to pop in front of his house, with both your hands carrying two bags filled with different snacks, with your backpack hanging from one of your shoulders as you planned on making a small slumber party just for the two of you. Caleb took a while to respond to the door, almost making you worry as you had to knock over five times for him to finally respond. "Who's there?" Caleb's voice was much deeper than usual, almost as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep, which surprised you, as Caleb had never been much of a sleeper, but oh, maybe his day at uni had been more tiring than usual? "Caleb? It's me! I decided to visit you so we could spend some time together?" As soon as you finished your sentence, you heard the rapid movement of Caleb around the house, his heavy steps being heard as you could barely make out a few of the excuses he had tried to come up with. But instead of facing the gorgeous face of your boyfriend, you were encountered with a small gap on the door, his eye barely showing as he smiled at you.

"Hey pipsqueak! Didn't expect you here, I...uh... caught a cold so I think it would be best if we saw each other some other day... Tomorrow? We can meet tomorrow if you want." You tried to hide your clear disappointment as you tried to stay calm, surely Caleb wasn't... There was no way, right? Before you were able to think about a clever excuse, you had already opened the door wide open, squeezing into the gap between the door and Caleb's body and rushing towards his bedroom... Surely he wasn't doing that, right?!... Nothing could have prepared you for the surprise.

Caleb's room was a complete mess, with his bed being completely disheveled, with all the clothes you had left in his house around it, almost as if he had made some kind of... nest? Caleb came running behind you, quickly catching up to you, but not soon enough for him to forbid you from looking at the state of his room. "I... I can explain." Caleb looked to the floor ashamed, almost as if he was a cute puppy trying to make the owner forgive him. But as soon as you turned around, you saw him. Caleb was slightly... different from usual. His hair was a bit longer, now reaching below his ears, his eyes were slightly pink, mixing with his usual eye colour. then his whole body... His hands had a strange purple hue, and as you took a closer look at his body, you noticed the many different tattoos that were glistening under the pale moonlight, more importantly, there was a quite big tattoo that was glowing... almost as if it was trying to lure you in. "Just...? Caleb?" Caleb's eyes were starting to water, hands trembling as he tried his best to hide the dark horns that were popping out from his head. "Please don't look at me... you weren't supposed to find out about... about this." Caleb's lip began to shake, and despite the sudden surprise, you rushed to him, caressing his face between your hands and hugging him in a thight embrace.

"Caleb, that's not it! I... I wasn't scared of you! Actually, I mean, not like I expected... this. But... you know, I already talked about my... past partners so I kind of... overreacted, I'm sorry..." You slowly got away from him, already feeling how your face was starting to turn a bright red, gosh you had acted way out of line, and you knew that, but the way he had reacted reminded you a bit too much of the others... Even to the point of ignoring the many changes on the body of your sweet boyfriend. "So... uhm... were you like trying a costume? I mean! Don't get me wrong, I would love you even if you had like-- uh... If you had swallowed that purple gum in the film we watched last week! I just didn't expect the bold... colour, so to say." Caleb lifted his gaze, his expression had now changed into a completely confused look, almost as if he was expecting you to scream and get away running from him. "Wha...what's the matter? It's not like I have something against purple, or anything" Before you could say anything else, Caleb wrapped his arms around you locking you in a tight embrace that left you almost breathless, aparently, he had been quite scared of your reaction about his... new style? "Hey, it's ok, it's not like I would break up with you just because of this change in style, I would love you even if you were, I don't know, a worm?" You smiled at your own joke, simply corresponding to his embrace. But as time went on, you noticed something was... wrong? Since your bodies were completely pressed against the other, you had started to notice something, uhm, growing. Caleb's face was buried in the crook of your neck, letting him take a deep breath of your sweet scent, his head starting to spin as he kept pressing his nose against your neck. "Uhm... Caleb? Are you...?" You pressed your hands on his bare chest, slowly pulling away from him, suddenly taking a better look at his gaze. In contrast with his previous look, his pupils were now heart-shaped, with his irises glowing under the dim lighting that entered through the window.

"Sorry... I've been trying so hard to hide it from you... I just get so... needy every time I see you... But, since you told me that, does that mean I'm able to take as much as I need?..." Caleb smiled, lifting his head up, his eyes now piercing your face.

"I... I mean, sure? We can do whatever you want, what did you have in mind---?" Caleb suddenly grabbed you, using a single arm to lift you up from the ground and carefully letting you on the mattress, getting on top of you and starting to kiss you all over, his rough hands getting rid of the clothes you were wearing, throwing them to the ground together with the rest of your clothes. "Caleb? What's going on?" You tried to stop him for a second, confused due to the sudden change on Caleb's behaviour, but you were silenced with a kiss, Caleb's tongue suddenly entering your mouth, interlocking it with yours as his hands started to massage your chest, twisting your nipples and pinching them as he kept fucking your mouth with his tongue, lewd moans leaving your mouth as you tried to eve understand what was even going on. "Caleb... Just... Just a second, my head is getting a bit hot..." Caleb looked at you with hunger, his pupils becoming bigger as he forced himself to remain calm. "I need you... just let me pleasure you, please... I'm so hungry..." Caleb suddenly got down from you, grabbing your thighs and setting himself between them, his breath hitting your entrance before his tongue started to play with your clit, carefully tracing it with the tip of his tongue before he started to suck on it, making you fist the sheets, biting the side of your hand as you tried to stop those obscene sounds from spilling out. Caleb seemed annoyed by this, using one of his hands to move your hand away from your mouth, suddenly increasing the strenght of his suction, making you arch your back as he kept focusing on your sensitive clit, slowly moving his tongue until he reached your entrance, teasing it with his tip before introducing his tongue inside you, swapping his tongue for his fingers, making you cum all over his mouth as his fingertips kept teasing your puffed clit. "Caleb! Just a second-- It's just too much!" You pressed your hands against his soft hair, grabbing his horns as an attempt to try and create some distance between his mouth and your poor cunt, but of course it was to no avail, with Caleb simply choosing to press you against the bed by keeping his arms over your thigs, forcing you to keep your legs where they were even as you kept begging him for a rest, forcing one orgasm after the other without any kind of mercy.

By the time Caleb finally let you rest, you had soaked his bed completely, a wet patch under you, breath completely unsteady, which forced you to take heavy puffs of air through your mouth, fat tears running down your cheeks from the overstimulation. Your hands were still holding on to his horns, legs trembling as Caleb got away from you, smiling happily at the gorgeous art work he had turned your poor pussy in. You could feel yourself already drifting off, suddenly being moved by Caleb, who had suddenly gotten on top of you, fangs shimmering in the dark as he was unable to keep his smirk from appearing. "Don't fall asleep now, I haven't even been able to make you feel good!" You locked eyes with him, your fuzzy mind starting to panic, just what did he even mean by that? Not making you feel good? Your poor legs were unable to stop shaking, and you had drenched the whole damn sheets, just what was he even saying?

You tried to get him to rest, pressing your hands against his chest and trying to push him against you, which was completely useless, of course, only making Caleb feel even hornier as he saw your tiny hands in contrast with his huge body. "No need to rest, let me take care of everything." Caleb finally got rid of his pants, swiftly removing his button, and pushing you to the mattress, then removing his trousers together with his underwear, his huge erection suddenly appearing in front of your face, tip a flushed red colour with a few beads of precum falling down his shaft. "Open wide, honey, it's time for me to feed you." You simply opened your mouth, feeling Caleb's cock entering your mouth, stretching it as you felt the tip of his cock hit against the back of your throat, making it difficult to breath as he finally got his whole dick inside your oral cavity. "So good baby... use your tongue..." You tried your best to use your tongue, wrapping it around his shaft and sucking on it as he had done with your clit, with Caleb's hands carefully petting your hair as he kept letting lewd moans leave his lips. "You're doing so well... Just a bit longer" Caleb's big hands kept holding your head, covering both of your ears, thus making the obscene wet noises reverberate into your head, which mixed with his whispered praises was more than enough to get you to submit completely. "Just a bit more... make sure to swallow it completely, let's not waste anything." You nodded silently, your gaze fixated on how Caleb's chest kept puffing up and down each time he forced his whole length inside you, causing you to barely breath, eyes rolling backwards each time he spent just enough time with the tip of his cock fully inside your mouth as he smiled at you, cock twitching as he suddenly released inside your mouth, thick ropes of cum falling down your throat as you tried your best to swallow it completely. "Such a good girl for me... Now it's time for the dessert, right?" Caleb glared at your puffy lips and glossy eyes, gosh, he was thankful for all the restraint he had practised since he had started to fall in love with you, always forcing himself to keep his erection as concealed as possible each time you even hugged him.

Without giving you any more time to rest, Caleb suddenly grabbed your legs, pushing them backwards just close enough for your feet to be close to your head. "Let's see... I'm sure my cum will be active by now." You looked at him confused, just what did he mean? Well, no need to wonder much about it, a strange mark appearing into your tummy as soon as Caleb's hand brushed against your lower stomach, the mark soon started to turn into a shade of purple, a stange glow starting to appear after a few seconds went by. Was it you or was the temperature in the room getting even hotter? In fact... you could almost feel your mind become fuzzy, your lower half starting to become even wetter, Caleb's expression changing into an amused one as he used the tip of his cock to test it. "Oh~... It seems someone is eager for me to enter... Trying to get me to knock your brains out? Make you even prettier with my cock pumping you full, now, now, let me stretch you...." Caleb pressed the head of his dick against your entrance, teasing it a bit my rubbing it up and down, his tip coating your clit with the mixture between his cum and your saliva, the wet sound making you feel even more embarrased. "Ca...Caleb... my head feels a bit weird... my... my tummy is really warm..." Caleb kissed your lips, making you open your mouth and fucking your mouth with his tongue as his dick gently entered you, stopping every few seconds to let you get accustomed, eyes fixed into your face in case any sign of pain showed up. "So good for me... such a good stretch... does it feel good, honey?" You immediately nodded, kissing his lips with hunger and now being the one to take control, sucking on his tongue as Caleb finally bottomed out. "Are you ok?" Caleb hands let go your legs for a second, both hands stroking your cheeks with extreme softness, almost as if he was scared of breaking you. "Caleb~... more, just... my... my thing feels as if it's melting..." Caleb looked at you with a mixture of pleasure and trouble, feeling a bit bad for the way his bodily fluid had caused you to become so... needy. Before Caleb was able to do anything, you wrapped your arms around his neck, now completely focused on making him fuck you senseless one way or another. "Come on~... Just do it, I'm ready~..." You smiled at him, using your arms to press his chest against yours, then using your legs to bind him, using your heels to push him even closer towards you. Caleb's expressions suddenly shifted, with his marks all over his arms suddenly starting to glow. "Don't rile me up..." Caleb suddenly put his hands on your hips, suddenly lifting you up and letting you lay on his lap as he changed your position. "Just remember you were the one who wanted me to do it." Caleb arms suddenly wrapped around you, using his strength to lift you up, then suddenly making you fuck yourself on his cock, tip suddenly hitting your g-spot and making your eyes roll back, lips completely parted as those naughty sounds kept escaping you, with Caleb's thrusts only becoming faster and deeper each time you moaned against his ears. "Wait Caleb, too much, too much! I can feel it here~..." Caleb's eyes drifted down, now realising the slightly noticeable bump that kept moving up and down each time he made you take his entire member, cooing at you each time your moans turned into soft whimpers from the overstimulation between his hard cock, your chest rubbing against his and your clit being played on by Caleb from time to time. "Just a bit more... please? For me." You gradually nodded, tears starting to go down your cheeks as you felt your poor cunt twitching around him, surely a bit more would help you, right?...

You had completely lost just how much time had passed, with Caleb still hammering your insides with the same strength he had applied since the beginning, your body once again being completely pressed against the mattress as he kept pressing his hips against your entrance, cunt completely soaked between your body fluids and the great amount of cum that leaked each time he entered his cock once more. "Wait, wait! Too much, please~... Just wait a second, I can feel the mark burning up!" You could barely feel your poor cunt, face completely red with puffy lips from all the tears that had fallen from your eyes due to the overwhelming pleasure. Still, Caleb ignored your poor complains, letting your eyes roll back into your skull each time he hit that soft spot, even paying no mind to the many nail marks and scratches you had left all over his chest and back from each time you had creamed around his cock, only making him force his whole length inside you with even more eagerness. "So good... you're sucking me in, honey... Surely you don't want me to actually pull out, right? I was so eager to get your pretty pussy to become all leaky and twitching from me..." Caleb made a small pout, almost as if he was waiting for you to take the bait once again. "Just a bit more, and I'll let you go, yeah? I just gotta make sure this sticks..." Caleb's hand pressed against the strange mark, now looking more like a small tattoo than whatever he had done to you. "You like it? This is proof of our bond... Gotta make sure no other man tries to get to you." Caleb's hips kept moving, now setting an almost painfully slow rhythm, leaving a few kisses around your sweaty body as a way to keep you grounded. "You did amazing pips, such a good job for me... let me take care of everything." All you could feel was Caleb's hands softly rubbing your tummy, then feeling him lifting your whole body up and taking you to what seemed to be a warm bath.

Note: Always make sure to know when the rut of your incubus boyfriends is in!

[myfictionaldreams]

Into the Deep //Mafia!Stucky x F!Reader

Summary: A garden party pushes you too far—and into unexpected subspace. Bucky and Steve bring you back with firm control, soft words, and the reminder that you’ll always belong to them.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, oral sex, rough sex, subspace, subdrop, sir kink, dom/sub, aftercare, panic attack, size difference

Words: 3.1k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The garden looked like something from a luxury magazine. Soft fairy lights dangled between the house's wall and the trees lining the perimeter, low jazz music drifted through hidden speakers, and tables were lined with expensive crystal. The best in the city catered the food. Everything was perfect—almost.

Your fingers still twitched to adjust the vase, straighten a napkin, replace an already-perfect candle.

The event was casual, a complimentary evening for those more important in the Rogers Mafia. It was a way for Steve and Bucky to show their appreciation to their employees and friends, and for everyone to relax for a night.

A subtle cough behind you has your fingers hovering midair from their intended destination of moving the cutlery by an inch. “You know it’s a garden party, right? Not a coronation or something, boss lady”.

Sam Wilson, your ever-loyal and sarcastic bodyguard, leaned casually against one of the table settings behind you, his arms crossed and watching your every movement.

“It’s still important, Sam. I just want everyone to have a good time.” You try to smile to hide your worries, but Sam tilts his head knowingly, seeing right through your emotional shield.

It wasn’t like you were purposefully constantly thinking about this party. It was genuinely supposed to be a fun, pleasant evening, but this team, this family, had done so much for you, Steve and Bucky, that they deserved it to be perfection.

Sam stepped forward, his shoulder brushing yours. " They also hired professional party planners for a reason. And if you touch the cutlery one more time, I’m texting Steve myself.”

“Too late, “Bucky says with amusement in his tone. I already texted him. “You turn, watching your boyfriend stride across the marble floor in a tailored black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to show the gleam of his metal arm.

You’d hope it wouldn’t get to a point like this, when others would worry about you rather than look forward to the event. Opening your mouth and stepping toe to toe with your boyfriend, you were ready to become defensive, but Bucky was already cupping your jaw, his warm thumb brushing along your cheekbone.

“You’ve been doing too much again, haven’t you, Doll?”

Sighing whilst dropping your face into his palm, you whisper, “I’m fine”.

Those devastingly crystal-blue eyes look you up and down, before leaning in and murmuring in your ear. “That wasn’t an answer, come with me”.

Your home is eerily quiet compared to the party in the garden. It was strictly a garden party, so your home remained the same comfortable space it always was. He holds your hand, pulling you through the kitchen and into the dining room, closing the door behind your back.

With gentle hands resting on your waist, he carefully walks you backwards, lifting your body until you’re sitting on the table's edgeable. Around you lay opened boxes, stacks of spare plates, empty glasses and napkins with the dining room being used now as storage for the party. However, none of this captured your attention quite like the man currently slotted between your thighs.

For one of the most dangerous men in North America with a violent history and even more so dangerous present with his role as second in command, he made you feel unbelievably safe and grounded, even without uttering a single word.

From the firm touch of his hands still around your waist, the expensive cologne you would often smell against your pillows to help ease your racing heart rate because it would always remind you of him, to how his eyes watched your every movement. Bucky’s reputation may be one thing, but you knew the real him, from the happy-go-lucky quick wit, to the protection he provides. You and Steve are always his priority, and he has no worries about making that well-known, the man has his heart on his sleeve.

“You need to come down,” he drawls under his breath, quietly, but in the silence of your home, your attention and thoughts immediately drift to his lips.

“I am calm”.

“No, that’s not what I said, Sweetheart. I said come down. You’re tense, I know you’ve not been sleeping well, and I know you’re anxious to make sure this party is perfect, but it won’t be a fun party if you’re overthinking every little detail.”

Sighing, your head suddenly feels heavy as you drop your forehead against his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his body. “I’m fine, Buckaroo, I promise,” you say, trying to sound lighthearted.

“No, you’re on the edge, overworking yourself, and you’re going to fall if you don’t stop. Just tell me, how can I help? How can I bring you back to me?”

On instinct, your thighs moved further apart, mainly to be able to wrap around his waist in an innocent hug, but the second you do, and you feel him pressing there, your mind already knows precisely what it wants. Being able to read you like a book, Bucky understands instantly as his metal hand slides over your thighs, slipping beneath your dress to cup you through your lace underwear.

“Do you want me to help you, Doll?” His voice is thick with emotion as his lips caress your temple.

You nod, unable to form words as all thoughts drift to the heat between your legs.

Both of his hands disappear beneath the skirt of your dress, tugging on the flimsy fabric of your underwear. He lowers them down your thighs, and rather than discarding them somewhere in the boxes surrounding you both, he brings them up to his nose and takes a deep breath in.

Your mouth drops open at the obscene view, as Bucky’s eyes roll back in his head and a deep rumble comes from the centre of his chest. “My faviourite fucking smell, I can never get enough of you.”

His mouth presses against yours with such urgency that you release a high-pitched noise as your fingers take purchase of his shoulders to keep you upright.

The clatter of your heels hitting the floor breaks the silence as your fingers slip to the back of his head. Feeling the short buzzcut, you pull his face ever closer. 

Bucky drops to his knees, pushing your body to lie back against the table, and knees up, exposing your wet pussy for him to devoure. His mouth is unforgiving, relentless and intense as he drinks every drop of liquid from your cunt, latching onto your clit and shoving his tongue as far into your body as he can.

You’re anything but quiet, not caring if they can hear you over the music at the party that you were sure was beginning to have attendees arrive. “Bucky, please, more, I need more,” you’re begging while rocking your hips against his face.

Two orgasms later, you’re clawing at his shoulders, pulling him up until you’re able to kiss him deeply, able to taste the remnants of your pleasure on his tongue. “More, I need you”.

A firm hand on your jaw stops your movements as Bucky pulls back, peering down to look at your face. He seems to be contemplating something but decides he’s happy with what he sees as he begins to unzip his slacks.

His thrusts are deep and sharp as he holds onto your waist, his mouth hovering over yours as he whispers those beautiful praises that bring your next orgasm on like a soul-splitting experience. “That’s it pretty girl, you feel so good cumming on my cock like that, taking me so well, fuck I love you”.

You’re in a blissfully floaty state by the time Bucky grunts and thrusts hard, spilling deep into your cunt until his seed is dripping onto the table beneath. There’s not a good enough explanation for how amazing you feel in that moment, almost like you’re lying on top of a weightless cloud, in the safest arms with the perfect praises, you never wanted to come down from the sensation.

After a couple of minutes of cleaning with the napkins thankfully at his side, Bucky helps you sit up, being careful when you sway slightly against his shoulder. “Doll, look at me for a minute,” he coaxes with a thumb under your chin. His voice breaks through the spell you’re experiencing, and you look up to his concerned gaze.

“I’m okay”, you say automatically without thought. Blinking rapidly and shaking your head, you try to find your bearings more.

“If you aren’t, that’s ok I want to make sure you’re ok and if you aren’t feeling present then-”.

“No! I mean, I’m fine, Bucky, I’m here, I promise. I’m fine”, you try to reassure, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“Ok, but if you start to feel spacey, you need to tell me. You know I love giving you aftercare, and if you want to just hang upstairs tonight so I can look after you, I need you to say.” His eyes linger longer than usual, but eventually, he nods, making sure your dress looks as perfect as it had earlier in the evening, just now without panties that had made a home in his back left pocket.

“Promise me, if you feel anything is off, you’ll tell me or Steve when he gets here, yeah?”

Kissing him slowly, you agree, “I promise”.

~~~~~~~

Twenty minutes later, Steve arrived, having had a last-minute appointment to check at the office. Considering it was everyone's day off for the party, who better to continue with the work than the boss?

On arrival, he pulled you to the side. Having received Bucky's text and update, he checked that you were fine, and you were very convincing with your reassurances.

An hour later, however, there was no hiding how you were feeling.

The garden was alive with voices and laughter. People mingled, quiet work conversations took place in corners, and drinks and foods were shared amongst friends.

And you had barely spoken a single word.

Sam had tried to coax a word out of you, even Natasha, but there you remained, sitting on the swing under the tree at the bottom of the garden.

Your eyes were glazed over, and your posture slumped as you leaned against the rope hanging one side of the swing up. The world surrounding you, from the music to the voices, sounded muffled, as if your head was underwater. You hadn’t even noticed that you were rubbing at your collarbone, the necklace you’d chosen lying heavy and irritating against your skin.

Bucky had noticed first, mind sentence, the moment you sat away from everyone. Then Steve.

In a few lungeful steps, Steve is crouching beside you, and Bucky is sitting on the swing. With gentle touches, Steve can pull your fingers away from the incessant rubbing against your chest before it irritated and playful.

“Baby girl, look at me”, Steve talks calmly and lowly, his hands squeezing yours.

You blink up at him, unfocused, lips parted. Steve’s jaw clenches as he glances at Bucky, who is looking just as concerned as he is. 

“Come here”.

Before you could speak, he effortlessly pulled your body into his lap. Swapping positions, he was able to relax back into the seat beside Bucky as you curl into him like muscle memory, resting your cheek against his shoulder as he wrapped both arms around you.

“You didn’t tell me she dropped,” Steve remarks as his fingers gently brush over the nape of your neck.

“She said she was fine”, Bucky mutters, shoulders slumped, looking defeated.

“Of course she did”, Steve replies, continuing to brush a hand over your body in calming motions.

From across the garden, Natasha and Sam lock eyes, having watched the exchange before approaching their bosses and friends. “Why don’t you both get out of here, we’ll look after these sorry sons of bitchess”, Nat jokes, pointing her thumb over her shoulder to the rest of the party.

“Are you sure, Romanoff? It’s supposed to be a relaxing night for you, too,” Bucky asks, glancing between his red-haired bodyguard and his girlfriend.

“Oh, don’t you worry, boss. I can still have fun and be in charge,” Natasha drawls in her raspy voice, giving her signature smirk. “Just look after your girl, yeah?”

“Thanks, Romanoff”, Steve whispers whilst standing, still holding you tightly in his arms as he begins walking through the party with Bucky on his heels. “You’re safe, Baby, you did so well today. So fucking good. But it’s our turn to take care of you now, alright?”

Entering your shared bedroom, Steve gently places you back against the pillows, shushing your whimpers as you try to cling to him, wanting the comfort and safe space you feel in his arms.

“She’s still floaty”, Bucky remarks whilst sitting on the other side of Steve, his fingers playing with yours.

“I know, “Steve’s voice remains calm as he loosens his tie. We’ll bring her back. “

“I don’t want to wear my dress anymore”, you admit with a quiet, timid voice, staring up at your boyfriends.

Like you were the most fragile thing in the world, Steve and Bucky helped you to remove the shows, dress and bra, leaving you naked and rubbing your skin against the soft bed sheets. Feeling like you can finally breathe, you look guiltily up at Steve and Bucky.

“I don’t mind if you want to go back to the party, it’s hardly even started”, you say, your voice becoming more clear and articulate as that low, heavy sensation in the pit of your stomach eases.

Bucky shakes his head with a small smile, “Nah, I think we’re both just fine, right here. Anyway, it means that everyone can let their hair down at the party, so to speak, no one wants to get too drunk with the bosses around anyway”.

He was always so good at convincing you that everything was ok.

Crawling on your hands and knees, you move towards Steve, finding more energy finally humming in your chest. Nuzzling into his neck, you savour the rough sensation of his facial hair against your soft cheek, the unique smell beneath his aftershave that was entirely his. 

“That's my good girl”, Steve praises whilst kissing your face, holding you close as he moves the two of you until his back is flush against the headboard of the bed. He knew what you needed, could feel how warm you were between your legs, even tell you were becoming wet from where you were beginning to grind against his crotch.

“You want more, Sweetheart?” he asks as you nod, continuing to move your hips slowly. Steve groans, already painfully hard.

Sharing a look with his boyfriend, Steve raises an unsure eyebrow towards Bucky. Bucky leans forward, his hands on your shoulders and pulls your face away from Steve’s shoulder so that he can inspect your face. Your eyes were brighter than before, eyelids no longer heavy, and you were alert as you beamed at his face.

With a nod towards the blonde man, Bucky deems you alert enough to continue.

With a flick of his fingers, Steve’s trousers are undone, his cock being freed with a blissful sigh. Guiding himself inside of you, the two of you groan. The way your pussy stretches to accomadate him is always your favourite part, and how full he and Bucky always make you feel. It’s like an itch you can finally scratch, like you can finally sigh in relief.

However, that pulsing need to fuck was overwhelming as you wasted no time to adjust and began to roll your hips, moving up and down with urgency.

Bucky’s lips moved over your shoulder, his hands tickling over your ribs to reach around your body to cup your breasts, fingers pinching your nipples tightly before soothing the sting with his thumbs.

It was the pain from the pinch and the hardness in whcih you fucked yourself on Steve’s cock that had you moving more erratic.

What started as soft moans soon turned to guttural grunts. The need. The want. More, more, more.

“Harder”, you begged. “Please, Sir. I need more, I need to feel it, I want it to hurt”. With one hand gripping his shoulder, the other moved to your clit, swiping hard against the swollen area, pinching and making it sting.

Steve stills inside of you, with one hand on your waist, halting your movements and the other on your jaw, whilst Bucky moves both of your hands behind your back so you aren’t able to continue your motions. 

“No, baby. Not like this. You’re too deep. You don’t need pain right now”, Steve tries to soothe, realising you’ve slipped too far into your subspace to have rational thoughts.

Shaking your head with wide eyes that were once more glazed and unfocused, you continued to beg, “Please, Sir. I need to feel something, I want it-.”

“No, Doll”, Bucky interrupts, his soft tone now more firm and authoritative, “Listen to me. That’s not you talking. That’s the drop. You’re safe. You don’t need to feel pain right now.”

They could feel that shift from being too lost in your headspace to the panic, from the way your entire body tense, causing Steve to grit his teeth and move your hips up so his cock could breath from the vice it had been contained in.

Shaking your head vigorously and closing your eyes tightly, your breathing becomes erratic, “I-I don’t know what’s happening. I’m sorry- I can’t- I don’t”. You struggle to get the words out as your chest becomes tight. 

Bucky’s chest flush against your back and Steve’s against your front create a warm cocoon for you to be in, knowing it helped when you were beginning to lose control.

“Shh. No apologies”, Steve muttered soothingly. “You’re okay. You’re just overwhelmed. We’ve got you”.

“Open your eyes”, Bucky says gently, pressing his forehead against yours. “Deep breaths. In. Out, slower than that. Try again, in and out, nice and slow. Just like that. We’re not going anywhere.”

It took several long minutes, but the storm passed. The panic eased. You sagged between them, boneless and trembling.

Steve kissed every part of your body that he could reach. “There you are. That’s my best girl.”

With careful movements, Bucky eases away, returning with a warm wash cloth. Be careful to clean your face first, and then the rest of your body.

They tucked you into bed, wrapping you in warmth and love. Bucky was feeding you pieces of a protein bar whilst Steve held a water bottle to your lips.

“You scared us a little, Doll”, Bucky admits softly whilst cuddling your body to his chest. “But you did good. You trusted us. That means everything.”

You have no energy to talk, but give him a faint nod, finally feeling grounded.

[vettelsvee]

I ALREADY HAVE A WIFE | Sebastian Vettel

history series main masterlist | requests here!

ferrari sebastian vettel x race engineer wife!reader

word count: 3450

summary: seb messes up on a press conference while his pregnant wife is there, and he also has to face a journalist that wants to try have a chance with him

warnings: this is based on THAT interview you know all too well (what are YOUR plans?). curse words, pregnancy and everything involved in it, talks of abortion, mental health issues (fluff fluff fluff)

a/n: this is part of history series (coming soon as is being heavily edited). it was my maiden series so... look carefully between lines because there might be some details you don't want to miss out. let me know what do you think of this pleaseeeeee you know i'm always waiting for your feedback, as well as comments and chats on that anon button please! and also, don't forget reblogs are truly appreciated

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

“Rose Benson, for The Times. A question for all three drivers: it’s just 102 days until we’re in Australia. What are your plans now between… What are you gonna be doing over the winter break? 

“What are your plans?”

Everyone in the room was no surprised by Seb’s answer. Laughter started to fill the room, spreading quickly except for two people: Britta and you. You noticed her gaze piercing your husband, as if she were mentally scolding him, like every time she did when he messed up. You, however, just looked at him with a look of disappointment.

She was unsure about what she had just heard, you knew it perfectly.

Seb face immediately turned pale, as if he knew he shouldn’t have said that. As Seb’s not also wife, but also race engineer, you were used to this kind of behaviour and jokes, but today… it just hit different. 

“Seemed to be counting the days,” he continued while starting to laugh a bit nervous. “Can’t wait.”

Max and Lewis, sitting next to him, joined in the laughter, making him laugh even more as the situation seemed to begin to slip out of his control. You were sure that he knew that having you just a few meters away, shaking your head constantly at the same time you whispered something to his PR didn’t bode well. 

“Seb, you go first,” a journalist said. “What are your plans?”

“Uh…”

“Another baby?” Lewis interrupted.

You knew all to well that he tried his best to not tell anything. Apart from your four years old little girl, both of your families, and Britta and Antti, no one knew yet that you couldn’t try for another baby because the baby was already on the way. 

You couldn’t take the risk of sharing the news and then telling people all over the world that you had an abortion, just as happened to you in 2016.

“Uh... well…” Seb stammered, not knowing what else to say. “Quickly done.”

Even though you were caught up in the laughter around you, you couldn’t control your growing nervousness, as well as your husband, and it kept getting worse every time you glanced at him. You crossed your arms, almost falling off your chair, and decided to rest your head on Britta's shoulder. You tried your best not to fall asleep, but the yawns continued leaving your mouth with no shame at all.

“If you need advice I know how to do it.”

Another mess-up.

Britta was already signaling with her hands to him so he stopped saying nonsense, totally overwhelmed not because she wasn’t used to it, but because she was maybe too worried about you. You straightened up as soon as you heard that, and instinctively placed your hands on your barely noticeable belly, thanking yourself for having decided to start wearing clothes a couple of sizes larger than usual.

“Keep pushing,” Max blurted out, immediately drinking from his bottle.

“Well... I don't know how long you two want to stay on free practice sessions, but... if you want…”

“I like free practice,” the Dutchman commented. “I'd rather stay there for now.”

Lewis and Max kept talking to him, but you knew he was trying his best to go along with the conversation.

After what felt like an eternity, the press conference ended. Everyone started to get up and scatter around the room, probably to chat with each other. The season was over, and they wanted to do the usual: say goodbye and wish each other a good winter break. Seb  did the same, with the difference that he headed straight towards you.

You were still sat, eyes fixed on the floor while you fidgeted with your fingers nervously, tears streaming down your cheeks.

You felt like a complete idiot because, even though he hadn't meant any harm and your really knew that, he should have thought before speaking because he knew all too well that you usually got overly sensitive. You had been through a pregnancy together before, and although it was a vast world full of unknowns, certain patterns did repeat.

The constant desire for sex and the hormonal ups and downs you suffered were the most obvious.

Slowly, he approached you and, with utmost care, knelt beside you, placing a hand on your thigh. You didn't pull away as you usually did when she was mad at him, and you saw in his eyes that he wasn’t expecting you to react that way.

“I'm sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable, especially that baby talk. The last thing I wanted to do was to upset you but I ended up messing up, like always.”

You lifted her gaze, meeting his. He knew you were not exactly sad, but a bit disappointed at the thought that someone might have discovered the pregnancy you were trying so hard to keep secret.

“I swear I hate you right now, Sebastian Vettel,” you said, being completely honest and letting the hormones act for you. “You made me feel so bad, I swear, but…”

Your words came out broken, and tried your best to keep your cool.

He knew you stopped talking because your eyes welled up more than usual: you were on the verge of breaking down but didn't want to do it in public. He leaned his forehead against yours, your faces almost touching.

“I never wanted to make you feel this way, my love,” he whispered. “You, alongside our girl, are the most important people to me, and you know that perfectly well,” you nodded, though he knew you doubted it. “You don't know how much I regret not taking care of my words…”

You looked at him, perhaps trying to find the obvious honesty behind his words. You knew he was being completely honest, but once again, your insecurity was consuming you and acting on your behalf.

“Seb, I hate myself right now. Quite a lot, actually,” you revealed in a nearly inaudible whisper. “I hate being pregnant because I feel useless! I'm so bipolar…” you tensed up, though standing and positioning yourself next to him to keep talking without anyone overhearing. “I want to hit you, I want to cry, and at the same time, I want you to take me to the bathrooms and have casual sex like we were teenagers. Do you understand me, sunshine?”

You said that but actually no, he couldn't understand you because he didn't know what it was like to be roughly eight weeks pregnant.

“Y/N, hey, listen to me love,” he said, holding your face in his hands and wiping away your tears. “You don’t have to hate yourself for feeling this way, alright? We’re in this together, and you’re going through a lot of changes. It’s completely normal to feel this way,” he repeated.

You nodded, and even curled your lips into a small smile. You didn’t waste any time and quickly started hugging him and leaving kisses on his right cheek.

But that ended abruptly when you both heard a throat clear behind you.

Britta was standing next to none other than the pink-haired girl who had asked your husband about his winter break plans earlier.

Rose Benson, that Italian journalist who had become one of the best, if not the most prominent, additions to Formula 1 journalism.

“Sebastian, as charming as ever I see…” her words made you cling tightly to Seb’s arm, a bit afraid. Again, your insecurity appeared. “Can I steal you for a few minutes for an exclusive interview?”

Her gaze fell with a hint of disdain on your, as if your were an unnecessary part of the conversation she was trying to have with your husband. Immediately, he wrapped his arm around your waist and started making faces at Britta so she could help him to get rid of that reporter.

As expected, she refused, letting him know he would have to face an interview he didn’t want to do but that it was up to him whether or not he did it. She knew better than anyone what it was like to deal with the media and, especially, with professionals like the one in front of you.

“I’m sorry, Rose. I’m busy.”

“Come on, Sebastian... we’ve known each other for years,” she persisted, getting a bit closer to Seb. “You know it would be an amazing interview... like so many we’ve had.”

You were starting to get upset again. The only thing he did was placing a hand on your belly, and it somehow calmed you, but not for long. 

“Benson, I’m serious. The only conversation I want to have right now is the one I was having with my wife,” he said, calmly rubbing your back.

“You’re disappointing me, Vettel,” she snapped, leaving you both in shock. WYou’re missing out a wonderful opportunity to be interviewed, in private, with someone like me.”

After hearing that, tears once again covered your face. You took a few steps back, slight pushing him and positioned yourself next to Britta, who didn’t know what to do other than wrap her arms around you while Seb was still watching the reporter start scribbling something on a piece of paper.

“Here’s my phone number, Seb,” she said in an overly suggestive tone as she handed him the piece of paper, which he took. “Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider? We could find a more private place, and…”

As she got dangerously closer to him, Seb kept your eyes on you.

You hated how polite he was even though people acted in such a stupid way. 

“Rose, I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen,” you said again. “My answer, once again, is no.”

“Have you never wanted to explore curves other than those on the circuit?”

“Why are you such a fucking bitch?! The only curves he explores off the circuit are mine!”

The woman’s insinuations had pushed you over the edge. Several people were already looking at you, and you’d swear some were even taking pictures or videos, so it wouldn’t surprise you if you went viral on Twitter that night.

Benson didn’t know what to say or do after your insult, except to end the closeness she had created by moving away from your husband as much as possible, trying not to arouse suspicion from the onlookers.

“Y/N, I think it’s best if we go get some air, what do you think?” Britta suggested you.

“No, I don’t want to go get some air, Britta!” you shouted again, breaking free from Roeske’s careful grasp. You were worried about you getting this upset, but you didn’t care at all. This wasn’t good for the pregnancy. “I want to tell this stupid journalist to learn to do her damn job properly and stop meddling in marriages!”

“Excuse me? Are you calling me a cheater?” she retorted, clearly offended. “You need to learn to control what you say, dear. You’re going to get yourself into more trouble if you keep this up.”

You were getting more nervous than hearing Seb during the press conference, you’d swear.

“Yes, you!” you snapped, moving further away as Britta tried to take you out. She must have noticed how pale you had gone. “Do you think Seb doesn’t have a girlfriend? Well, surprise! He married me last June and we’ve been together for nearly seven years, and we have a daughter, and...!”

The index finger on Seb’s lips was what made you stop from revealing your third pregnancy or who knows what else. Your expression revealed him that, although he had done the best to make you shout, at that moment you only wanted to kill him.

Britta began to guide you more quickly towards the door to get out of there, but your words still could be heard despite the distance with a frustration that was more than obvious. There was a point in your life when you started saying what you wanted, fought for what you believed was not fair, and you stopped being intimidated or afraid of anything or anyone.

That’s what probably made Seb fall in love with you more and more every day, even he actually thought it would be impossible.

When you finally left, Britta handed you a bottle of water and started to calm you down, but you just couldn’t relax. Now, you were still nervous and actually worried about what Seb could be saying to that woman. His body expressions, the ones you were seeing from distance, didn’t calm you as much as you thought, and when she handed him a piece of paper you completely lost it and, once again, started crying, leaning on a wall.

A few minutes, later, Seb approached you while you saw Britta leaving you two some space.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m so sorry about what happened there. I should’ve handled it better,” he started, his voice full of concern.

“Seb, it’s not your fault. She was way out of line,” you said, your voice trembling while trying to calm yourself down. 

He pulled you into a tight hug, your body relaxing slightly against his.

“We’ll get through this, together, like we always do,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head, hoping to soothe your nerves.

His gaze meets your tear-filled eyes. Gently, he took your hands and started caressing them with his thumbs, knowing how much it relaxed you in moments of distress like this.

"Thanks for taking care of her for me, Britta," Seb said, turning around to thank your second mother once more for looking after you and sparing you any trouble.

You wanted to say something to him, but as soon as Seb turned his back again you, he got closer and closed the distance between you two, pressing his lips to yours. 

You ended up forcing yourself to pull away not because you might get horny,because you're not used to showing affection in public unless it's a completely special occasion. The world knows you only hold hands lightly or maybe kiss on the cheek, out of respect for your profession and, above all, so that people see you as an engineer and not just a WAG.

Private moments were exclusively yours, and no one beyond your loved ones and yourselves needed to know about them.

"What's that about, Seb?"

You were too surprised, feeling a wave of emotions invading you. 

"The thing with Rose, or the kiss?" he asked innocently.

"Both," you replied shortly, then corrected yourself. "Sorry, it's just that girl made me feel like..."

You couldn’t continue. You put your hands over your face, but Seb pulled them away. There was no need for you to hide from him: he knew how you felt, and all he wanted in those moments was calming you and making you aware that there was no need for you to feel ashamed about anything.

"I only want you, Y/N," he brought you even closer and started touching your belly again, but now with more discretion. "In this, and a thousand more universes, and beyond life, whatever it is, and no matter what happens, I will always love only you. Just you, Y/N."

"Do you really love me? Even though I'm fat and ugly like I am now?" you wanted to know, doubting yourself as you focused on looking at your body up and down.

He chuckled softly at your comment. You weren’t not fat: your belly was just a slightly bigger than usual despite being in the first trimester because of your natural anatomy. 

"You're neither fat nor ugly, darling, but it's normal to feel that way," he comforted you. "You're experiencing changes, so don't overthink, Y/N. You’re a superhero: you’re creating a whole baby in there"

"But I just... I feel like a bomb of emotions. I feel so... so stupid and contradicting myself all the time..."

"It's the hormones," he interrupted you. "Don't press yourself for feeling that way. Do you remember when you were pregnant with Emily?"

Before he could say anything else, he made sure that, aside from Britta, you were alone in the hallway. Seeing that no one else was around, he kneeled down and brought his face to your belly. He placed both hands on either side and started kissing it, causing you laugh.

"Hello, my little girl. How are you doing? There's a long way to go, but mom and I are so excited to meet you, as well as your big sister, who really wants you to be born just to play with you."

You know the baby couldn’t hear you, but you felt so happy Seb was trying his best to make you a little happier.

"Stop, sunshine," you started saying, taking his arms to make him stand up. "Seb, seriously, get up. They're going to catch us!"

There was no one around, and he even double-checked to make sure. However, he decided to listen to you to avoid making you more nervous. At the same time, Britta nodded for you both to follow her. Seb took your hand and followed her steps.

"Seb..." you started speaking with some doubt.

"What is it, love?"

"Why did you say my little girl before?”

He turned hid head towards you. He saw you blushing and looking a little lost.

"Because I know it's going to be another girl," he confessed to you, leaving you a bit puzzled. "I don't know why, but it seems, and I truly believe, that making girls is our specialty."

"I think it's going to be a boy, but it makes sense: the other baby was also a girl..."

You forced yourself to stop talking. You didn’t usually talk about the miscarriage you had about two years ago, at sixteen weeks pregnant, and although you had made great progress after nearly making an irreversible mistake, it still hurted.

They say you learn from mistakes, but if you had seen the clear signs of the person who ruined your lives and had taken measures much earlier, things would have been very different.

"How about we make a bet?" he commented, trying to change the subject while now wrapping his arm around your waist. "If it's a boy, I'll take you on vacation wherever you want."

"And if it's a girl, like you say?" you wanted to know.

"Then I'll take you to dinner at your favourite restaurant. The one you always want me to take you whenever we go visit your family."

You looked at him strangely, knowing perfectly well that what he said wasn’t really a bet; in fact, it's anything but a bet. Adding to that, his voice sounded so calm that it might have surprised you with his passivity.

Britta and Antti look at you both as Seb helped you to enter the car, as if they wanted to know what you were talking about. You look that he shook his head at them and immediately started laughing.

"And what are you laughing at now, Sebastian?" you snapped at him again as he sat next to Britta. "Are you trying to mess with me, or what?"

"What's wrong with her? Is she okay?"

The whispers from his training coach, who clearly wanted toknow what was going on without appearing nosy, made him laugh even more. He didn’t even answer him and directly looked at you:

"Start thinking if you want to go to Cadiz or Mallorca, and if you prefer a McDonald's burger with pickles and ice cream with ketchup and fries or your aunt's wiener schnitzel."

Your eyes lighted up with excitement. You knew that he was making you decide, but in the end he’ll do all of that, and more, for you. Seb was the best partner ever and took care of you amazingly, especially when you were pregnant or struggling with your mental health. 

"I hate that you know me so well, Seb," you ended up saying, taking some candies from Britta's hand. "But I'm sure you don't know what's on my mind right now."

Of course he did, he knew you too well. You were just being horny, and your face showed.

"Y/N, I really appreciate you all," Roeske began to say as she looked at both of you, "but please: stop acting like you know what in front of us. Can’t you contain yourselves for ten minutes and then do whatever you want when you’re alone in your hotel room? Really, I’ll take care of Emily and I'll even stay all night listening to loud music on my headphones so I don't have to hear you moan all the time. Agree? But please: behave, kids."

[starmapz]

husband!sukuna modern/non-curse au sfw & nsfw headcanons. nsfw below the cut.

❦ cw ; mdni. 18+ only. f!reader. fluff. smut. size kink. oral (m! and f! receiving). manhandling. choking. bondage. breeding kink. degradation. fingering. rough sex. based loosely on my biker ryomen sukuna x biker female reader oneshot but can be read separately.

main masterlist || love & company masterlist

husband!sukuna who always sports a frown and disinterested look until his eyes are on you. his friends insist you need to be around at all times to make him more tolerable.

husband!sukuna who doesn’t hesitate to knock someone out for looking at you the wrong way. he’s a storm of anger and violence until a touch on his arm from you grounds him. it doesn’t change the fact that he would still knock someone out in a heartbeat, but he mellows out at your assuring words and candied tone.

husband!sukuna who’s scary enough to part crowds and have people avoid him, but he lets you paint his nails (black only), and on rare occasions he’ll let you put eyeliner on him. he doesn’t mind as much when you insist it’s hot.

husband!sukuna who shoves your face away or flicks your forehead when you ask him stupid questions. you don’t need to know if he would still love you if you were a worm and he’d much rather hear your giggle when he playfully shoves you anyway. and for the record, he would, and he would keep you in a little dirt tank.

husband!sukuna who’s extra careful when he drives his motorcycle with you clinging to him. he doesn’t dare weave through traffic like he regularly would despite the fact that he’s confident in his driving ability.

husband!sukuna who tries to introduce you to video games he likes so that you can play them together. you end up enjoying animal crossing and stardew valley the most and although he makes a scene out of playing them with you, he secretly loves holding you on his lap while you catch fish and tell him to plant turnips.

husband!sukuna who’s enamored when you suggest getting your wedding rings tattooed on. you suggest a thick band to match his other tattoos and he immediately gets heart eyes at the thought. you? matching his tattoos? that’s about as hot as it gets.

husband!sukuna who always has a hand on your hips or waist. it doesn’t matter where you are, one hand, whether subconsciously or not, is always on your hips. his thumb will rub small circles into the skin beneath your shirt and most of the time he doesn’t seem to realize he’s doing it.

husband!sukuna who loves the size difference between you both. he’s an absolute monster of a man at almost seven feet tall with the muscles to match and he adores his smaller wife. he especially loves that you don’t mind him manhandling you and he’ll use that to his advantage constantly.

husband!sukuna who listens to everything you have to say far more intently than he leads on. even if he gives off the impression he isn’t paying attention, every word is burned into his mind in case the same topic of conversation comes up again.

husband!sukuna who has a secret stash of every little thing you’ve pointed out in store windows that he’s gone back and bought later. he saves each one for the next occasion, always surprising you with something you mentioned liking a year ago. if you have a bad day, he’ll surprise you with a gift just to see you smile.

husband!sukuna who has only ever said he loves you out loud twice. once when you first said it to him, and once at your wedding. the words just aren’t in his vocabulary, but he goes above and beyond with his actions to show you just how much he does love you. he knows you know every time he insists on carrying you to bed, holding you tightly to his warm body and never letting go no matter how much you complain about overheating.

husband!sukuna who grins at the sight of his leather jacket draped over your shoulders like a dress when you tell him you’re cold. he thinks it’s the cutest sight on earth, but more than anything he wants to see his jacket on you with nothing underneath so he can slide it off your bare shoulders.

husband!sukuna who loves to hold your chin and feel your saliva drip down his fingers with his cock filling your mouth. he loves the way you look up at him like his perfectly obedient princess.

husband!sukuna who can’t get enough of your strangled moans with his fingers carefully compressing your neck. he did research into how to properly choke you to make sure he doesn’t hurt his sweet wife.

husband!sukuna who loves to watch his cum dripping from your folds, using his fingers to stuff you full. he can’t get enough of the sight of you sucking on his fingers afterwards with a lustful look that has him instantly ready for another round.

husband!sukuna who becomes very chatty during sex, spewing the dirtiest degrading words you’ve ever heard, only to flip on a dime when you’re both blissed out of your minds. his tone will change from a low growl to a sultry hum as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

husband!sukuna who spouts the nastiest things in your ear just to see the way you fluster beneath him, unable to hide with him in such close proximity.

husband!sukuna who leaves purpled marks across your entire body, loving the way they paint your skin, but most of all he loves to bite. he just can’t help himself from softly biting the plump skin of your ass or digging his teeth into your shoulder to leave behind a mark.

husband!sukuna who knows his tongue piercing affects you in ways you won’t admit. he loves to run it over your nipple or through your slick entrance just to see the way you squirm and your toes curl at the delightful contrast of cool metal to his warm tongue.

husband!sukuna who loves to hold your hands over your head while he fucks you relentlessly. he loves the look of his darling wife restrained at his mercy with nothing but pleasure swirling in your eyes.

husband!sukuna who feels as though his skin is on fire when you suggest that he can, in fact, tie you up. he does surprisingly extensive research to make sure he doesn’t hurt you and gets the most high-end red ropes he can. the sight of your wrists bound to the headboard sends him into a frenzy as he worships every part of your body.

husband!sukuna who will live between your thighs if you ask him. he loves to please you and watch your jaw slack with pleasure, he loves the way your eyes roll back, and he loves your moans and whimpers. his favorite sound on earth is when you moan his name.

husband!sukuna who loves the way your hips buck and jolt when his fingers find your g-spot. holding you down and feeling the way your legs tremble and your body melts into him when you reach your climax is like a drug to him.

husband!sukuna who’s the king of aftercare. he knows he’s rough on your body and although he knows you love it and he established a safe word, he’ll pamper you for as long as you need afterwards. he knows exactly how you like your baths and he’ll get in behind you and clean you while he sensually kisses your nape.

husband!sukuna who drapes you over him like a blanket and loves the way your curves seem to conform to the toned musculature of his body. He won’t let you go for a second even while he sleeps either, because he can’t bear to be apart from you and he loves his wife more than life itself.

main masterlist || love & company masterlist

❦ a/n ; can't stop thinking about husband!sukuna tbh, i just love him sm.

writing & format © starmapz. dividers © adornedwithlight and © cafekitsune.

[soobnny]

dating him | bang chan

❝ have i told you how beautiful you look this morning? ❞

CHAN | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin

chan as ur bf wow congratulations

it��s giving strangers to lovers if i’m being fr

u just meet on a random tuesday like nothing out of the ordinary

conversation is made and for SOME reason, chan always feels the cogs in his head stop turning when he’s talking to u

like it feels like he’s constantly on the run all the time so how come with u it’s so different

what did u do to him

well wtvr long story short, he FELL

fell hard

now he’s ur bf

ok hear me out

perk #1: unlimited supply of his hoodies

he’d love it too .. when u wear his hoodie

doesn’t even try to act upset or bothered that u’re stealing his clothes

sometimes he’s the one to even put it on ur bed so u can wear it after u shower

or when u’re coming home from the dorm and when u open ur bag .. oh! his hoodie!

“ah, i must’ve misplaced it 😅😅😅”

yeaaaaaaaaah sure

sure u misplace the hoodie in ur very pink bag instead of his black bag

u’re not very slick christopher bang

u don’t mind tho

his hoodies are always xxxxl in size and it smells like him

perk #2: u have ur own man wife

that man knows how to do everything

he can fix ur sink, build u a table, put oil on ur doorknobs so they don’t harden, can clean, like what can’t he do

have u seen hometown cha cha cha? he’s giving very Chief Hong in his skills

(minho does too but we’ll talk about him in his post)

oh, did i mention he can cook too

one of his favorite little mini dates is when u just go thru cookbooks together

and then … cook

i’m sorry this man is a sucker for domestic things like this

and cooking together means u also grocery shop together

a fun challenge he made up is where u pick up random ingredients and try to make something decent out of it

maaaaaan he’s just giving husband

anyways back to cooking

imagine him in the kitchen right

and he’s tasting something new he made

ofc u’re curious too cos wow whatever the hell he’s making smells and looks good

when you try to ask him if you can taste it, he’d KISS you

“how do you like it? 😏😏😏”

😳😳😳😳

he’s getting bold

he does strike me as shy at first in relationships

and then when u’re together for long, u’re like damn this man kinda freaky

perk #3: his dog

berry loves u

like sometimes even more than chan

(it’s bc u give her extra treats when u can)

u walk his dog together early in the morning

it’s kind of become routine

u’d just get out of bed with messy hair and still in ur pajamas while chan is perfectly ready bc he loves waking up early when he can

u don’t even care that u look like a mess

bc chan always reminds u how beautiful u are every morning

so … messy hair and pajamas … putting the leash on berry and walking outside

it’d just be quiet mostly on the walk

there’s no need for conversation with chan sometimes

chan would say he finally knows what peace means after meeting u

his favorite scene ever is coming home and finding u asleep on the couch with berry

he has a million pictures of that on ur phone

like different days, same scene

sets it as his lockscreen even

on nights u can spend together, u enjoy watching cringy christmas movies w him

cue recreating the scenes

except it’s a massive failure bc both of u just can’t stop laughing

u especially love those christmas movies one

“I DONT HAVE A TWIN WE CANT RECREATE THE PRINCESS SWITCH”

u end up just falling asleep together

ofc not without cuddling and intimate kisses

chan finds he sleeps easier bc of u

he used to always find it so difficult to fall asleep before

so how come it’s as easy as closing his eyes now

btw u two most probably have promise rings

and he most probably wears it as a necklace

and he loves hugging u from behind

chan loves being able to nuzzle his cheek on ur back and hold u

he’d probably do that thing where u’re unaware and then BAM a pair of arms around ur waist

his chin on ur shoulder

oh Wow….. wow i just made myself crazy thinking about that

he’d lean in to kiss ur neck or ur chin bc it’s closest access

and he’d just look at whatever the hell u’re doing

chan loves looking at u

does that sound creepy

he just loves observing u ok !!!!!!

esp when u’re doing something u love

his heart goes 💗💞💕💕💝💘💖💞💓💓

bc that’s his baby

he just adores u tbh

u could just be standing there and chan’s looking at u with heart eyes

anyways whatever CONGRATULATIONS

u guys will probably last forever bc he’s whipped and so in love

he’s giving me the More In Love vibe

like when he falls, he FALLS

happy 4 u

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[mixingandmelting]

hey so how do you think the bat boys would deal with a s/o who’s fam owns a horse ranch and the boys arrive at the ranch with s/o and s/o notices one of the paddocks are open and s/o’s like “Oh.… *horse name* got out again. He’ll be back later. He’s my favourite. Can’t wait for you to meet him”. The horse does appear later and gently sneaks up on the boys and steals their hat and playfully gallops away, stops, strikes a pose and whinnies at the boys mockingly and then elegantly trots away or while the couple is hanging outside somewhere, the horse comes running over and slides down the hall of the stables pass The couple and crashes into hay stall of one of the other horses and it’s perfectly fine or the horse broke into the couples guest bedroom late at night and sits by the bed happily, it’s waaay to big for these shenanigans? (Any other funny horse shenanigans you can think of? 😂).

Dick:

Your horse doesn’t like him. 

“Come on, give me back my hat.” He grits out, smile strained as he finally manages to corner him.

What was meant to be a ranch date ends up becoming a battle for your attention. To be honest, the signs were there: your horse being Max named after Maximus from that one Disney movie and how abnormally fast the horse was galloping towards with full intentions to knock him out (you had told him it was probably from enthusiasm but he saw the horse’s eyes and they were anything but friendly). 

The whole time, Max continued to third-wheel where he’d walk right in between the two of you and give him a sneer when you ruffle Max’s and coo at the affection your horse “innocently”  gives you. 

At some point, Dick was able to somehow trick him into getting distracted so he’d get some alone time with you. Only for Max to find you both and ruin the vibe by stealing and running off with the straw hat you’ve given him. 

“Here, I even got you an apple. Heard it’s your favorite-“ Said apple gets kicked out his hand and lands a distance away from him. 

For a moment, it’s dead quiet, the two staring each down. Completely forgetting about a certain person. 

“So, care to tell me who it was that knocked over the buckets during your grand chase finale?” 

It’s then, he and Max turn around and notice the mess that was made which would also explain the hay in your hair. 

Quickly both males point at each other.

 It takes a while for the two to agree to a quasi-truce, you’re threat of not speaking to either of them doing the trick where they grumble and work together to clean everything up. Though, they did get caught when they start splashing water at the other, stopping immediately once you give them a look. 

Jason:

They must’ve been besties in their past life. 

“Pfft, he’s so stupid.” Max snorts in agreement, munching off the carrot in Jason’s hand while Jason takes a sip of his beer. 

Sure, their initial meeting started out rough where he had raised an eyebrow at your horse’s attempts to intimidate him by appearing out of nowhere and constantly sized him up, puffing his chest out with an aggressive snort while stomping his clove onto the ground where it’d leave a deep imprint on it. 

Too bad for Max though, he’s also an asshole. And only an asshole would know how to deal with another asshole. 

The minute you had your back turned, your horse did it again like he expected. But this time, Jason doesn’t hold back. Throwing a ruthless glare at him (not full blown), it's clear who the victor ends up being when Max trots and sticks close to you, glancing back at him every so often. 

Then your neighbor from the ranch next door comes over and gives you a hard time in front of the two of them. All they had to do was share a look to know what the other was thinking before shaking hands and forming their alliance (hoof, hand, same difference).

“Alright, time to go.” Crushing the can in his hand, he stuffs that and the carrot stub into his pocket, ignoring the rage of anger and despair behind him as he gets on the offered back and ride back to your ranch. 

Morning comes and your neighbor comes over, face completely flushed at the prospect that he’s having to ask for your and your family’s help considering your family were the only ones nearby that could. It gains him and Max a suspicious look, you catching both of them with identical smirks while he casually feeds your horse through the kitchen window and Max eating what’s offered without a problem. 

Tim:

Your horse is a menace. 

“Please. I just want my hoodie back.” After chasing him for the past thirty minutes, he starts losing his mind and resorts to begging. 

All he wanted was to spend time with you and embrace one of the places where you’ve grown up. Hell, all the other horses were nice to him, some affectionately nuzzling into his hair while others asked to be fed. 

But this one? Your horse, Max? He was different from the rest. Personality resembling someone he knows though not as sassy and gremlin-like but equally annoying. 

The chance a horse could be stealthier than a human made no sense as he would appear out of nowhere and either flip Tim’s hoodie over his head or start chewing on it. And it was cute until Max wouldn’t stop. 

Now, he realizes it was a mistake to take it off, your horse taking the opportunity to snatch and gallop away with it. As if that wasn’t irritating enough, every time he’s close to getting it back, Max would move it away at last second causing him to have a couple of close calls of his face kissing the dirt. Oh, and that smugness that rolls off the horse. Having the audacity to even pose-! 

“Psst, Tim!” Squinting his eyes a bit, he sees you motioning with your hands behind the horse. Confusion turns into understanding, licking his lip and turning the gears in his head. 

Sensing something’s strange, Max quickly runs away while Tim starts chasing after him again. What happens next will forever stay in his memories and cause him to agonize that he didn't capture the scene where, once he leads your horse into the stables, you jump from your hiding spot and easily onto your horse’s back without a saddle. 

Out of reflex, he catches his hoodie and continues to stare at you star struck with another crush he’s pretty sure can out do all the other crushes he had on you from the other times, lost in thought how he’s dating someone so cool. 

Duke: 

Your horse is cool. Sometimes makes him think that he’s actually a puppy born in the wrong body. Still cool nonetheless.

“Got any sixes?” At the grunt, he groans and draws another card from the deck. 

Unlike with the other horses, he wasn’t sure what to expect when you casually shrugged at the broken padlock and chirped along the lines of how he would come back. But he can most definitely say for sure he wasn’t prepared to get rizzed when, galloping towards the ranch, Max jumped over the fence and skidded into a stop directly in front of you. All with effortless ease and elegance just like those scenes in the movies. 

“Woah…” 

As if noticing Duke’s amazement, he gives him a courtesy glance before going back to nuzzling your hair. It became obvious that it enjoyed the praise he continued giving him, showing off all the stunts he was able to pull. Well, up until he had tried to slide across the stables only to crash into the ridiculously large pile of hay and the other horse that was in front of it.  It was funny how he glared at him for snorting to cover up his laughter, leading to a light banter to go between them two. 

Right now? He’s playing Go-Fish with Max and you. 

“Max is asking if you got any fours.” How you’re able to translate that from horse, he has no clue. Especially when Max had thrown a fit prior about having to show his cards to you. 

“No, Go-Fish.” Letting out a whine, he watches in amazement and a small, healthy dose of fear one hoof reaching out and pulling a card from the deck. 

“Your horse, he isn’t a meta?” 

“Nope. Born and raised here like any other.” 

Welp. It doesn’t change his theory about Max being a puppy when Max randomly starts trotting in circles in an attempt to catch his own tail. 

Damian: 

He loves Max to the point he considers it a crime for you to hide about him all this time. 

“For  an Andalusian breed, he’s raised quite well.” He hasn’t stopped petting him since you had introduced the two, completely mesmerized by the soft and silky, blonde mane. “To think you never told me about him- I can’t believe it.” 

“Well, you never asked!” You roll your eyes at the tongue-click you’re given. “Also, must I remind you, you raise a variety of animals? A cat, two dogs, a cow, a monkey, and a dragon bat!” 

But they aren’t a horse. Your horse to be exact.

It was love at first sight, finding and watching the equus run through the grassfield. So beautifully from nothing holding him back as he makes his laps without leaving the ranch. 

He wasn’t being sarcastic about you raising Max as well, the signs of him being sincerely loved and cared seen in his bright eyes and clean hooves. Don’t even get him started on the coat, sheen and shiny in the light. 

“Can I touch you?” His voice is gentle, keeping a hand in front of Max’s nose after he comes back and decides to join you at the stables. 

He couldn’t help but close his eyes, fearing the potential chance of rejection. Hence, his heart bursting in childish glee when, one tentative sniff later, he feels something nudging into his hand. 

It shouldn’t be a surprise he didn’t hold back, spoiling Max to both his and the other’s heart content with feeding him apples and carrots to the point you had to intervene. 

“First off, Goliath is a friend not a pet! Second, he left me-us, a long time ago.”  

“Doesn’t mean you can simply horse-napp my horse! Were you there when he was born?! No! It was me!” 

The debate continues deep into the night, him trying to convince you to let him take Max home with your horse on the side and giving his best puppy-eyes. Eventually, it leads you and Damian to have an impromptu sleep in the stables as the three of you fall asleep in the hay with Max in the middle and you two on either side of him.

[lakesbian]

anyway i think the fundamental reason why taylor shitting on her own small chest feels different + less misogynist than other cases of this all-too-common trope is that. in most scenarios where a male author has their female protagonist randomly go on about her chest size, the vibe is that we're supposed to view her commentary as like. A rational self assessment. it is portrayed as expected that women constantly fixate on and analyze their own value as sex objects based on their physical attributes--that this isn't really an indicator of an unhealthy mindset, it's just a fact of life, it's something these shallow toys for men naturally do--and when they report on their value to the readers, it's just a rational, accurate statement. the same conclusion that any person (i.e. any man, because only men are people) would come to upon seeing that woman. it's like. "of course she's telling us about her tit size, that's basically the only thing that matters about her, or at least the most important thing." that's what's being conveyed in incidents of this trope. you know?

but with taylor it's like. it's not like that. what it is with taylor is that Taylor Fucking Hates Herself. right off the bat taylor is portrayed as this full person with flaws, strengths, and many odd little neuroses as a result of deep-set trauma. and she Fucking Hates Herself. she picks at Everything about herself, and it's not through the lens of what a man might find to criticize about her, it's through the lens of what she, someone with her specific philosophies, traumas, and general personality, would find to criticize about her.

like, a man (BRIAN LABORN EVEN) might criticize her brashness, her coldness, her Reminiscent Of A Cult Leader Swag, but she's always criticizing herself for not stepping up enough, for not trying to 1v1 solo that kaiju wrecking the city, you know? shes a girl who yells DONT FUCK WITH ME RIGHT NOW!!! at rachel while participating in a gang war concussed as fuck. (because she hates herself and has no self preservation). but shes also always panicking that she might smell bad and doesnt know it, that shes too tall, that shes standing weird, that everything she says comes out wrong, that shes stupid and ugly and weird and theres Everything Wrong With Her.

so. of course at some point it lands on self-demeaning "and btw my tits are small." shes not reporting that for us under the aforementioned misogynist framework, shes fixating on it as an incredibly complicated character who also happens to genuinely fucking hate herself. and basically thats my overly longwinded opinion on why im ok with taylor fixating on tit size constantly.oh and the other reason is that it accidentally makes her sound bisexual and thats cool too

[haologram]

always the lover, never the loved ⁖ y.jh

⁖ synopsis: with wallowing comes doubt, and with doubt comes loss of reason...and other things. ⁖ genre: lovers to ??? ; angst, mentions of suggestive themes. ⁖ pairing: boyfriend!yoon jeonghan x fem!reader ⁖ word count: 2k. ⁖ rating: 18+. minors do not interact. ⁖ warnings: alluding to toxic relationships? alcohol, smoking (weed), mentions of sex. commitment issues and seeing things in different lights, mentions of blood. ⁖ what to listen to: fade into you - mazzy star ; haunted - searows ; my heart is for you - peter sandberg. ⁖ author's note: welcome to haologram, jeonghan.

JEONGHAN FEELS LIKE HE'S TRAPPED IN A VICIOUS CYCLE OF LOVING YOU AND WISHING HE'D DISAPPEAR FROM YOUR LIFE.

Everything is about appearances. He finds himself constantly checking the mirror, constantly sitting up, constantly smoothing his pants over his thighs as you walk by. He can't sit still, wishing and hoping for your approval and wondering when he'd get it.

He feels like he's always the lover, and never the loved.

He feels like he gives you more than he receives, and his heart is growing tired. He is growing tired, eyes weary and never able to see the beginning of the end. It feels like every time he's about to reach it, to reach the bottom of his love for you – you pick him up and put him right back at the start.

And he knows it's not healthy. He knows it's not good for him to fall for it every single time – for your featherlight touches across his shoulders, your mischievous smiles over glasses of wine. The way your lips feel against his skin, warm and inviting and like you love him. Like you love him, and want him to stay forever wrapped around you like a python until he cuts off your circulation. Because you once said, before he ever felt that twinge in his heart when someone mentions your name – that Jeonghan…he was to die for. That Jeonghan was the devil incarnate but you'd gladly let him rip you to shreds, that he had the face of an angel that would lure you into the deepest pits of hell and you'd follow without a second thought.

That Jeonghan was the embodiment of choking on your own blood, still tasting the crimson river of life as you succumb to the darkness.

Maybe Jeonghan romanticized that more than he realized – because he found himself thinking about you afterwards. Not just for a few moments, no; he thought about you for hours. Long, agonizing hours that seemed to never end. He picked at his food, he laid awake at night, he couldn't breathe without your smiling face crossing his mind.

Even now, as your boyfriend of two years…he thinks about you every single moment of his waking day and it feels like a sickness.

He thinks about how you furrow your brow when the food is really good. He thinks about how you stare intently at whoever is speaking, and still manage to hear quiet somebodies who didn't get the attention they wanted from the group – encouraging them to repeat themselves with everyone's eyes on them. He thinks about how you only wear gold earrings, thick hoops of all sizes swinging from your lobes. He thinks about how you smelled, the scent fresh and minty and always paired with the smell of sunscreen, no matter the weather.

He thinks about how you always pour his drink, how you always taste his food if he offers, how you always make it a point to sit next to him, even at dinners. He thinks about how you speak softly to him but boldly to everyone else, how you smile at his stupid jokes and nudge him with your elbow. How you wear the same sparkly lipgloss every single day after he told you it was pretty when you were still just friends.

He thinks about how you kissed him when you were still just friends, too – on his couch, three years ago. Your tongue tasted like limes and tequila and fun, and you let him pull you onto his lap and run his hands all over you, dipping into your shorts and pulling your tank top over your head. How the sex was messy and wet and loud, with you simply filling his senses like an overflowing cup and he couldn't sleep for weeks after.

He thinks about how you acted like nothing had ever happened to the naked eye, still acting like you were friends then. You still poured his drinks, you still sat next to him at dinners. You still smiled at his bad jokes, still wore your pretty lipgloss and spoke to him softly.

But your hands wandered beneath the dinner table, sliding up his thigh and squeezing while having the most mundane conversations about nothing. You'd brush your lips to the shell of his ear and whisper dirty little secrets while making it seem like it was pertinent to the conversations around you. You'd slide your hand across his waist if you were passing by, and no one in your group of friends noticed.

You drove him absolutely insane, bit by bit. Like you knew every single tick, what to make him pop. You pulled every string, pressed every button until he – like you had described – savored the metallic twinge in his mouth as he fell harder than he ever had for anyone.

And for a while, it was everything he would have never imagined – falling in love with you felt like Fade Into You by Mazzy Star. He felt such a deep, gnawing feeling of longing; his days occupied with planning dates and calling florists and dropping by your job with feigned nonchalance and an iced chai for your troubles. He couldn't go more than a few hours without hearing from you or seeing you, and he was practically vibrating out of his skin when he couldn't spend the night at your apartment.

It was so unlike him.

All his other relationships were filled with playful banter, teasing, light-hearted conversations about everything and nothing. Shy smiles and featherlight kissing.

With you…he was rendered speechless. You played his games but you played them far better – and everything was done with purpose and intention. Every conversation held weight, each one heavier than the last and absolutely addicting for him. Every smile was confident, every kiss thick with lust and yearning and the deepest rooted love he'd ever felt.

It felt weird, he felt out of place and he started feeling the odd twinge in his chest of things being too serious. He felt a bout of uneasiness crawl up his throat every time his phone pinged with your name, every time he heard your voice, every time he heard the signature double-knock of your fist against his front door before your key turned the lock.

You felt like a commitment, and he wasn't sure he was ready for it. You felt heavy on his heart, a weight that he couldn't shake off and it was only cemented more as you kissed him, touched him, loved him. He felt trapped, like a box was closing in on him and it was just your warmth.

And it felt heavier, the pressure to love you back, as he learned more about you. How you feared abandonment, spoken after too many glasses of wine and a teary spliff on the roof of your apartment building. How you wanted a family, how you wanted a home to call your own. How you wanted so desperately to be loved the way you loved, with weight, with purpose.

With the intention of staying forever.

And Jeonghan felt like shit when he realized that it was you who was the lover and he, the loved. He felt his chest tight when you peered at him through wet lashes, eyes full of understanding as they flickered over his face.

Your voice, softer than ever. "It's okay if you leave, too, Hannie."

And he did. He left, without saying anything. He picked up his jacket from the ground, shoving his arms through it as you took a silent drag from the joint in your hand. You didn't say goodbye, you didn't turn around, you didn't say anything as he made his way down the fire escape and into your apartment.

He couldn't feel anything as he tumbled through the window of the bedroom he'd shared with you so many nights, your dark green sheets comforting his wandering mind. He looked at the array of lipgloss on your vanity, his fingers hovering over the pink tube that held his favorite one. He picked it up, rolling it through his fingers before shoving it into his pocket.

He kept his eyes down as he made his way through the apartment, muscle memory picking up his things and throwing some away. His toothbrush tossed in your trashcan, his moisturizer tucked in his hand. He stood in the living room, several framed pictures of you and him pinned up on your walls making his stomach turn.

He made his way home, locking the door and sliding his key under the doormat. He was silent as he held your lipgloss in his hand, opting to walk the seven blocks to his apartment in silence. He looked over his shoulder as he crossed the street, seeing you watching him from the roof of your building. You waved, a soft smile on your face as his hand clenched around the lip gloss. He turns without waving back, and feels his chest oddly empty as he makes it home.

And he sees your key already sitting in the bowl on his foyer table. His sweatshirts you'd taken folded neatly in a box, and every gift he'd ever given you. A bottle of the perfume you wore, half-finished and given to you by him when he saw you run out a few months back. Pictures, seven of them. Tucked under a Balenciaga shirt that he'd stolen from Seungcheol a few years ago. Pictures of you and him – at the river, at the fair, at dinners surrounded by your friends. The private relationship that had everyone's eyes glued to you and him, sharing appetizers and quietly smiling at each other.

He can't stand looking at them, feeling the panic of making a rash decision settle in his bones. He closes his eyes, leaning against his front door but all he can see is you.

You, in his bed after spending the night. Your lashes kissing your cheeks, your lips pouty as the sun bleeds through the blinds. You, in his arms in the shower – his lips pressed to your shampooed hairline and blowing the foam back into your face as you scowl. You, and the tears you held back during your first fight before you slipped out of his apartment with a kiss to his cheek and an I love you, Hannie.

You, when you met his best friend in the entire world – and how he immediately warned Jeonghan to treat you gently. To hold you dear, to cherish your every breath and worship your existence. Maybe Seungcheol knew something Jeonghan didn't, but Jeonghan knew you. He knew your tactics, he knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew…he knew…

Your smiling face, your kind eyes, your heart on your sleeve and simultaneously, in his hands. Now crushed, bleeding and in need of repair.

Because you were always the lover that yearned for him for years. You were the lover who watched him carefully, who learned him, who soothed him. 

You were the lover that he needed to help him realize he had to change.

And he would always be the loved. In past and present tense, but someday…three years from now, when you're sitting next to his best friend – who didn't ask him if it was okay to date you, either – with your hand on his thigh. When you're speaking to him softly, and pouring his drinks while you sit next to him at dinner. When you're calling him Cheollie and wearing a cherry red lip gloss that makes your lips look like Heaven. 

When you're kissing him with purpose as he bids you goodnight after walking you to your car, your smile mischievous and your hand slipped into the back pocket of his jeans. When you accidentally glance over his shoulder and see Jeonghan, his fingers tight around a shot glass of tequila that reminds him of your first kiss…

He will realize, he is in fact the lover. And you will forever be the one he loves.

haologram © 2025 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[aliceezsworld]

‘ see somethin’ ya like? ‘

darylxfem!reader

{ daryl notices your mind is elsewhere and you’ve been staring at his arms for quite awhile, something about the size difference between you two always finds a way to get you real riled up }

alexandria era—

warnings, smoking, smut, size kink, thigh riding, biting/marking, pain kink if you squint, slight teasing , hair pulling

you and daryl are sitting on the top steps of your shared house in alexandria, you and your group have been here a little over a month and your starting to really like it, its safe. it reminds you of life before all this, but better since you now have daryl by your side

you lean against a pillar, cigarette perched in between your fingers as you take long slow drags, the smoke filling your lungs followed by the burn, a burn you now crave frequently, constantly needing smoke breaks, after the prison fell you picked up the habit and haven’t been able to quit

you stare out at the now empty streets, the sun had recently finished setting. the sky fading into a gorgeous dark blue

once it starts to get dark like this people usually end up going inside, but you, you love this hour. the quietness, the soft blue glare over everything, the slight chill in the air, the moon rising to its spot in the sky

you come out here daily just to watch the sun set and the darkness take over, the only small light source coming from the moon, and daryl seems to follow you wherever you go so of course he’s sat right next to you

you and daryl started something up at the farm, then became official at the prison, you’ve been inseparable since then, even when the prison fell it only took you a couple days to track him down, you didn’t sleep let yourself sleep until you found him, when you found him you looked basically looked like a walker as you collapsed in his hold

he hasn’t let you been more then a couple feet from him since, his biggest fear is losing you and he refuses to go more then a couple minutes without you

you take a deep breath and pass the lit cigarette to him, your eyes drifting to his hand as he reaches out and takes the cigarette from your hold, you’re unable to look away from his hand

eyes following as he brings it up to his lips to take a puff, you glance over to his bicep, his muscles faintly making a appearance through his shirt

the dim moonlight reflecting off of him and his large arm flexing ever so slightly anytime he moves himself, even the tiniest movement from him causes a small wet patch to start forming in your underwear

you bite down on your bottom lip, eyes wide with desire as you look over every part of him, your eyes go back to look his hand, instead you get meet with the intense stare of his eyes

your unsure how long been watching you stare at his arms, annoyed at his shirt being in the way, limiting what you get to stare at

your heart skips a beat, your teeth instantly releasing the bite they had on your lip— you look into his eyes, you assumed he wouldn’t be able to see your staring due to the dark lighting, but you were so wrong

his blue eyes shining in the light as he inspects your face, he leans back slightly, he knows that look on your face way to well, he knows exactly what your thinking

“ see somethin’ ya like? “ his voice is low and deep, his southern drawl turning you on even more “ maybe “ your voice quiet

he chuckles softly, eyes examining the street then back to you, he tilts his head, amusement on his face as he purposefully flexes his arm, causing you to glance back over

—the way your hands always go to his biceps every chance you get, or the way your eyes stare at them as he’s killing a walker, your little actions don’t go unnoticed by him

he puts out the cigarette on the wood next to him and flicks it onto the road below, “ come ‘ere “ he pats down on his thigh, you stare at his hand for a moment before slowly standing up and positioning yourself in front of him, your legs on either side of his thigh

you lower yourself and the contact of his thick thigh against your clothed pussy causes you to let out a shaky breath, not realizing just how badly you were aching for any sort of touch

you intensely watch his muscles flex as he tightly grabs onto your hips, you quickly move to try and remove his vest off unable to handle the restricting fabric any longer, he moves his hands and shrugs off his vest, you rush to undo his buttons on his shirt, growing unbearably impatient

“ why do you have so many goddamn buttons “ you mumble in annoyance, needing this shirt off about five minutes ago, your eyes locked onto the new bits of his skin that slowly get exposed after every button comes undo

“ what’s got ya so damn greedy “ he grunts, the sight of you so eager to see more of him, to touch him and be in his hold makes his cock twitch

“ you daryl. always you. “ your voice barley above a whisper as you finish getting his shirt off, a small whimper eliciting from you, his large muscles glistening in the moonlight, he basks in pride, proud of the effect he has on you by simply existing

he smirks, his hands back to your hips and yours tracing up and down his upper arm, dragging your nails through every little dip and curve

he watches you intensely, slowly he starts using his hands to guide your hips against his thigh, a moan bubbles in your throat at the sudden movement and your eyes glance into his, then back down to his large build

a grin stays plastered on his face, his hands stilled “ my arms huh? m’ not surprised honestly, i always see ya staring, y’know yer very obvious ‘bout it. not slick whatsoever “ he rambles on, but your mind is elsewhere

your mind is stuck on the way it felt when your pussy rubbed against his thigh “ do ya even hear anything i’m sayin baby? “ he chuckles softly, you manage to pick up little bits of what he’s saying, your eyes meet his and you slowly shake your head ‘no’

he looks over every inch of your face intensely, taking note of your wide eyes, slightly parted lips and elevated breathing. he grins, loosening his grasp on your hips “ go on then, ride my thigh “

your eyebrows furrow and a instant pink hue taints your cheeks, you glance behind you to make sure the streets are empty

you look back at him, yours eyes dark, filled with lust but a small hint of worry “ daryl, its risky, what if someone comes out we’re right on the porch “ you say quietly, so quiet that daryl wouldn’t be able to hear you if you were so close to him

you more sound like your trying to convince yourself than him, you don’t notice your hips already rocking back and forth, he uses his hands to push your hips harder against his thigh the pressure causing you to elicit a small gasp

your hands grab onto his shoulders to help stabilize yourself and to push yourself to go faster, each little rock rubs your clit in the perfect spot, your breathing speeds up and one of your hands grab onto his bicep

he forcefully moves your hips to go quicker, a small moan escaping you, you lean down and place small kisses along the rednecks shoulder, down to his elbow

your body rests against him and you continue to speed up your pace, your legs begin to tremble, his hand slips under your shirt and paws at your boobs

his fingers brush against your nipples causing you to whine, you know you have to stay silent as to not alert anyone, you lean down and gently bite down on his muscles, causing him to let out a low groan

he pulls his hand away and wraps his arm around your lower back, and your fingers tangle in hair, continuing to suck and nibble at his biceps

his size compared to you turns you on even more, your hand that rests against him looks small and dainty, the way he can overpower you and manhandle you whenever he wants urges you to rock your hips quicker

his entire upper arm is bound to be covered in little marks and hickeys, the spots already fading into bruises, you pull at his hair and yank his head back slightly to expose his neck, wasting to time to nip at his neck

“ baby. . “ he murmers, as much as he loves the tiny stinging sensation of your teeth sinking into your skin, quickly followed by your mouth wrapped around that same spot, he doesn’t want to have to worry about covering his neck up to avoid everyones prying eyes

“ daryl, please, i’m so close “ you whisper against his skin, your breath warm on his neck, your legs are practically shaking as you start to reach your high, his hands keep your pace quick and ruthless

he groans as you keep nipping at his neck, one of your hands scratching at his arm, the other tightly grabbing his hair,

all the little things your doing hurt but in a way that make his cock twitch, combined with the way you shake on top of him, using his thigh to get yourself off makes him lowly grunt and brain go blank momentarily

your vision goes blurry and you grab onto daryl like your life depends on it as you tremble, your intense orgasm crashing over you

you look at him with watery eyes as you slowly ride out your high, your grasp on him loosening, he glares into your eyes, his hands move to softly cup the sides of your face

he pulls you into a gentle kiss, running his hands through your hair, he pulls away shortly after, you glance down and admire your work, his arm is covered in dark purple bruises that trail up to his neck, your nails drag against the little marks you made

“ sorry dar, got a little carried away “ you giggle quietly, looking back into his eyes with a small smile, he can’t help but smile back at you, a soft chuckle escaping him “ s’ all good baby “ he picks up his shirt from behind him and lazily pulls it on, not caring to button it up fully

he holds onto his vest as he looks back at you and lifts you up, throwing you over his shoulder “ daryl! “ you squeal —he stands up and starts to walk inside “ what are you doing “ you laugh, legs slightly kicking in the air

“ finshin’ what ya started “ his voice low and husky, even though you just came your pussy throbs at his words, knowing your in for a rough night

[monstersflashlight]

( Hi, I'm @mama-magpies-fantasies :3 )

Sharing because I'm too tired to write more about it, but incase you or any other followers get inspired.

Thinking about two dragons fighting for the same princess/human. They've established themselves in the same region but have always been at a stalemate when it comes to their strength and territory; never agreeing on a proper border.

I could see Y/N having caught the eyes of both independently, that is until one of them becomes bold enough to abduct them. By then starts the competition between both wyverns; getting abducted every other day to go from one nest to the other. They both try to woo you everyday, bringing in gifts, showing off their strength and skills, and doing little dances to show their body to their potential mate.

Honestly, it can be funny sometimes, their little fight can be endearing, maybe before you never thought you would have two people fighting over you of all people. And sometimes it can be annoying... You've come to appreciate the both of them and their differences, and the pressure to only choose one is getting on your nerves.

So why not play a little game into it? Get them to see each other more as equals than rivals. To compare them both, you have them share you equally in the same space; letting you have your own nest which can fit the both of them. Ground rules will make sure that they do not start any fights unless they want to be punished and shown as immature compared to their competitor. :3

In the end, I'm sure even in bed both would be quite competitive; after all they want to be the first and only to have you bare their eggs. You can't pass a day without being filled to the brim by either of them as most of the time, one filling you with their seed will cause the other to want a turn as well; creating a feedback loop of breeding until you pass out for the day.

A/N: That was very fun to read, I took it to my field with this one and wrote a lil something. Hope you like it! <3

Both? Both.

Dragon x dragon x fem!reader || sharing is caring, size kink, (light) breeding, eggpreg, (light) dom/sub dynamics (femdom)

You watched them fight and struggle with the realization that they were both important to you. They wanted to fight each other constantly, but you weren’t having any of that. You liked them both too much to let them destroy each other for a chance with you, when they both could get what they wanted. And if that meant you got two amazing dragons with incredible dicks… Well, that was a plus.

So, when you decided you were tired of watching them fight the other to gain your hand, you made them kneel in front of you, looking down to the floor until you had enough of it. Did it last three days? Possibly. Did you spend those three days sitting in front of them as they struggled not to look up at you? Definitely. Did you enjoy it? Greatly.

But after that everything turned out for the better. They stopped fighting, or at least they stopped in front of you. You still knew about their “secret” fights, but those were just stupid banter and a few scratches, you knew deep down that they really wanted to take it out on each other, but you said nothing. You just needed to wait enough to see how much it took for them to figure out they wanted to fuck each other senseless.

And even if you hated when they fought… You loved when it was to choose who got to fuck you first, who got to put their eggs in you… Poor dragons didn’t know nobody did anything if you didn’t order it first. But they looked so pretty fighting and growling at each other, pushing each other down until one of them overpowered the other and they were both panting and hard… It was totally worth it to let them fight it out. Especially when you got their dicks as a reward.

You got them on their backs, wings pinned down as you bounced on one dick and then the other, both of them staring adoringly at you as you took your pleasure on them. They were your pretty dragons, your protectors… and your toys. You loved to play with them like this, you loved when one of them lost control and filled you with his eggs, just for the other to growl and push him away just to fill you with another one. By the end of it you were a mess of come and your stomach was distended with their eggs… But you wouldn’t do anything differently. Especially when you told them you had enough and they took it on each other as you watched. Two powerful dragons fighting to see who was on top, just to end up rutting their cocks together until their bellies were a mess and you could lick it off them.

They thought they were two strong dragons protecting you, but when the time came, you were the one bringing them to their knees. Either to eat you out or just because you enjoyed having such big beast completely submissive to you. It was a good power trip, and made you wetter than anything. Outside the bedroom they could be the protectors, but inside… Inside, they had nothing to argue, nothing to fight for… Because you ordered them.

[sttoru]

𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 . . .

⟣ sypnosis. you’re fed up with your rich abusive husband and finally decide to hire a skilled assassin to get rid of him in secrecy. one night when you’re left alone in your penthouse, you invite the assassin named toji over to give him the money he’s demanded to accept the job. things turn for the worse when your husband comes home early that day and catches toji and you together.

⟣ note. eeek. never thought i’d be here to write this out but i did and it turned pretty detailed if i must say. hope u all enjoy and appreciate my hard work. feedback / comments are greatly appreciated ! if the fic does well, i can make an alternative ending that’s smutty :3 wc: 7.4k

⟣ tags. toji fushiguro x female reader. angst, comfort. themes include abuse. reader is in an abusive + toxic relationship with her husband. implied age gap with husband. implied size difference with toji. mentions of guns + blood + m.urder. knifes.

“what is a successful marriage?”

that is one of the many questions that keep you up at night. you’ve laid awake for hours on end ever since you’ve married your husband, in search for reasonable answers. you’ve got many of them sorted out, however that specific question is one left unanswered.

it is very subjective—many can vary about the concrete answer. but one thing you know for sure is that your marriage is the exact opposite of what ‘successful’ means.

you were so full of yourself. you didn’t realise that your pride would also be your downfall one day; you’d constantly brag about having a rich husband who gets you everything you wanted. you were too blinded by love—or actually—by his money to notice the real him. the real, twisted and manipulative face of the man you were determined to marry.

his name was daisuke. from the yamamoto family. a family known in japan for its generational wealth and the many buildings and famous corporations it owns. you’ve worked at one of those companies and had met daisuke whilst he was on a visit. you’ve heard about his image by the public; sweet, caring and apparently wouldn’t hurt a fly.

unfortunately, the true him matched none of those descriptions. the true him only you—his wife—came face to face with at your shared home. you remember when it started. when daisuke began to turn into a nasty, abusive man whose anger is never restrainable.

your dating years were nothing but a dream. or, maybe you were too gullible to notice the signs and red flags your then boyfriend was showing. his love bombing, the manipulation, the gaslighting—you didn’t know better. if you complained about a minor thing that he had done, daisuke would apologise by sending you lots of money and presents. toxic, isn’t it?

but you didn’t care. you were happy and content with that being your compensation. the money was the evildoer that made you lose all your morals. the teenage you who said that you’ll never put up with a man’s disrespect was long forgotten.

even now, 4 years later, you put up with his verbal and physical abuse just to continue staying in that big mansion you live in. to continue getting everything paid for you. to continue getting lots of money by doing nothing but be his wife—his trophy wife, at this point.

it’s an easy life; ‘all i have to do is get through his abuse and it’ll be just fine’, you tell yourself that every night. it’s the only thing keeping you sane—a coping mechanism of some kind.

however lately, daisuke’s never skipped a day without being abusive towards you. he’d enter your home yelling and shouting, complains about the tiniest speck of dust in the house (which is not even your fault, it’s the maids’), reminds you how worthless you are in his eyes and the list goes on. he sometimes gets physical and throws stuff at you, causing multiple bruises and cuts to appear on your body after he’s done having his daily tantrum.

he might even kill you one day. it’s scary to think about; if he would, he easily could. he could one day just decide to be done with you and stick a knife in your body, leave you to bleed out and then order one of his men to get rid of your corpse. just like his family does to whoever stands in their way of success. you don’t want to discover how many people your husband has killed.

daisuke can easily get away with murder after all—the law is nothing but a thing to exist to keep the common citizens in the government’s control. to the rich, it’s like those rules don’t exist. court? justice? the so called independent judge? nothing money can’t buy. after all, money is power. money is innocence.

after four years of sticking with that rich man, you were getting tired. you were staying with him for his wealth, but was it actually worth it? besides, if daisuke hates you so much, why wouldn’t he divorce you instead? you don’t have anything going for you. except for your looks and youth, probably. that’s the main reason why daisuke coaxed you into marrying him—to show you off during events or parties. a complete and utter trophy wife you are.

you’ve been going to sketchy bars lately to let off some steam. you weren’t even there to drink alcohol. the sole reason for attending pubs was to forget about your own situation. you’d get weird stares since you’re always alone, sitting in that one spot in the far corner, no one wanting to come up to you because of that gloomy aura you’re emitting. and because you’re always dressed modestly from head to toe—not an ounce of skin showing. it was all the opposite of what most people would normally look and act like in bars.

‘what is normal?’ also a subjective question. society has turned it into an objective one, however.

“good day, miss.” a deep voice had interrupted your thoughts one day whilst you were doing your usual routine; sit near the bar counter, get a non-alcoholic drink, stare at the table for hours and question your purpose in life before going home to the reason of your problems.

a man, probably in his late 30’s or early 40’s, sat next to you on an available stool. he nonchalantly ordered a drink before making small talk. it was a nice change of pace for some reason. you had asked him his name. it was shiu.

that stranger had kept you company for hours until a call from your husband made you snap back to reality; you had to be home as soon as possible. judging by daisuke’s tone, you were in big trouble.

you remember how shiu outed his concern for your well-being by pointing out the bruises on your arm which you didn’t even know were showing.

you dismissed his worries with a fake smile and told him it was nothing, quickly pulling your sleeve back down. shiu seemed to let the topic go, but before parting ways with you, he handed you his business card. you didn’t know what it was for—what kind of services he could offer;

“call that number if you need someone to get rid of your problems,” was all you got before the mysterious man walked away. you couldn’t shake off the emphasis on the word ‘rid’. it sent a shiver down your spine.

that sentence of shiu’s echoed in your ears as tears streamed down your cheek after you arrived home. you were in your personal bathroom, hands shaking as you put a bag of ice on your fresh bruise, the small red and blue-ish area stinging. once again—you couldn’t avoid your husband’s wrath.

after having slept for a mere two hours that day in your bathtub, you’ve awoken to an empty house. daisuke was gone for work. luckily for you.

you hastily grabbed the business card in your purse and dialled the number. staring at the card, you’d think it was some kind of house cleaning service. that’s the kind of vibe it gave. little did you know that it was far from that.

a few rings later and you heard the same familiar deep voice in your ear; “good morning. with shiu kong.”

your heart was beating in your throat as you couldn’t gather the right words to say. maybe it was due to the little voice in the back of your head that warned you for something—you couldn’t pinpoint what the specific cause was just yet.

you answered eventually, “hi. uhm, you said i could call this number if i needed someone to get rid of my problems.” you pause and inhale deeply, “wh-what if my problem was.. a person? would you…” your voice trailed off, but the implication could not be missed by anyone if they heard the tone you used.

shiu seemed to recognise your voice, though stayed silent for a second or two at your request. when he replied, it sounded like he had expected you to ask him this—like he’s heard this many times before; “certainly.”

that’s when you realised what you’ve gotten yourself involved with. you were sweating and you had trouble breathing as you realised that.. this was your chance. to get rid of that man called your husband. your abuser.

you had decided to take on that opportunity and that’s how you ended up getting a phone call from an anonymous number right after your talk with shiu. the agent hadn’t told you anything other than the name of the person who’d contact you; ‘toji’, and said that he’d help you further.

you stared at the ‘no caller ID’ on your screen. this was him: the person who’d help you get rid of your problem. you gulped before sliding your thumb across your mobile to answer the call.

“hi, good m—”

“location.”

the husky male voice cut through your introduction and got straight to the point. your lips were parted to answer the man whom you guessed was ‘toji’, but your breath got caught in your throat for a second. do you just randomly give your address to a stranger? was that okay to do? you didn’t know—no, you didn’t care. if you got killed in the process or something similar, that’d be way better than to live another day in hell with your husband.

you dropped your address after some hesitation and toji just added a quick, ‘be there in an hour or so,’ before hanging up on you.

fast forward to 50 minutes later and you were pacing back and forth in your living room, trying to breathe properly and not have a second panic attack. daisuke wouldn’t be home until noon, so at least he won’t see whoever will enter your mansion in a few minutes. and if there’s a possibility that you get killed by this stranger, you’re sure that your husband would be more than happy that the job was done for him.

a loud tune. the sound of your doorbell. normally, you’d find the short melody relaxing, but now it sounded like something out of a nightmare. you made your way to your intercom and looked at the small screen—seeing a tall black-haired man with a compressed shirt and beige baggy pants standing near the gates. that must be toji—the man you talked to an hour ago.

he must be confident in his abilities since he didn’t cover up his identity at all when coming all the way over here.

you press a button and the gates open with a buzz. toji disappears from the little screen as he enters your front yard. the screen fades to black and you’re left alone with a sense of dread in your stomach. that only lasted for a couple seconds since the doorbell of your front door goes off.

“c-coming!” your voice cracks. you make your way over to the entrance of your home and breathe in. you open the doors slightly, peeking through the gap at the tall, intimidating man standing before you.

toji was kicking a rock to the side whilst waiting and looked up when you opened the doors. he seemed laidback, as if this was nothing but child’s play to him, “took ya long enough.”

you were appalled as toji simply barged into your home like he owned it. his strong, masculine cologne wafted through the air as he passed you by without giving you a second to process his intrusion.

your shaky eyes followed his bulky figure—the muscles that bulged through his shirt, which tensed every now and then. his aura was no joke either; it was horrifying to someone whom didn’t even know who he was or what he exactly did for a living.

“phewww,” the dark-haired man let out a low whistle as his eyes scanned the interior of the entrance hall, shamelessly touching a few expensive looking decorations, inspecting the material, “pretty damn rich, ain’t ya? this y’r daddy’s money?”

you shake your head and close the door behind you, staying there in case you needed to run. you are still wary of this situation, even when you had been the one that started this all.

“h-husband’s.” your voice was a quiet whisper. toji raised an eyebrow and turned his attention towards you. his eyes scanned you from head to toe. you looked pretty young. a fragile little thing, is how he described you in his head.

“husband? you?” toji chuckles dryly, before stepping closer to you, his body towering over yours. he lowers his head and stares at you from up close, his hands in his pockets whilst wordlessly looking at you.

you swallowed a bit of saliva and glanced back at the big man whom belittled you twice in just a couple seconds. you fumbled with the sleeve of your hoodie as the silence grew deafening—the only sound being your own soft yet shallow breathing.

your fingers scratched at the bruises under the fabric of your clothes, causing the cloth to slightly crinkle and glide up a few centrimeters with each rub before coming back down once your fingers stop. the instant you start touching those bruises, the itching just wouldn’t stop.

toji noticed this and looked down at your arm. his eyes caught a small glimpse of a wound on your wrist, but he didn’t seem to comment on it. with a sniff, he straightened his back and cocked his head to the right—face cold again as he glared at you;

“do ya know what kinda stuff i do?” his voice was booming, the deepness to it making you shiver. you press your lips together and search for answer, only to find nothing;

“n-no, i mean—“ your itching increases the more nervous you felt, “th-the man who directed me to you said you’d explain things further. all i know is that you can get rid of uhm— a problem of mine.”

toji scoffs and mutters something incomprehensible under his breath about his ‘stupid agent letting him do all the work’ before turning around. he lazily walks ahead as if he had all the time he needed in the world. once arrived in your living room, the man plops down on your couch, spreads his legs and leans back against the cushions. he really acted like he owns this place.

“i’m not the type to beat around the bush, little lady,” toji starts whilst his eyes follow you as you nervously sat on the chair next to the sofa, “so i’m gonna get straight into it. and if ya back down after this or get too scared ‘n call the cops, unfortunately, y’r pretty ass gotta go.”

toji swipes a thumb across his neck to indicate what that latter meant; killed. you’re gonna get killed if you learn his real identity and decide to expose it to anyone, especially the police. you blinked your tears away whilst thinking of that possibility and shook your head, putting on a determined face. you need to take responsibilities for your actions. you were the one who started this.

“all right. i promise that i won’t back down.” you reply after getting yourself together. toji’s eyes had left yours for a second to look around the grand living room—as if inspecting for something—before settling back on you. he quickly exhales through his nose; leaning his head on his hand while his piercing gaze burned holes in your skin,

“i’m an assassin.” toji says in a bored tone. he’s done this little introduction to his job so many times before to clients who hire him in for the first time, “i kill people in exchange for money. so, ya basically hired me to get rid of someone ‘nd i’m here to collect the money and information i need to finish the job. got that?”

there it was. the confirmation you needed and got without an ounce of hesitation coming from the man in front of you. you had expected this outcome (from the many you created in your head), of course, thus you weren’t that surprised. yet the fact that you actually have a hitman in your house, someone who can easily kill your husband, still makes you nervous.

“yes, thank you.” you eventually replied and nodded, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. you looked up at toji and this time it wasn’t in a nervous way. this time it was in a determined way. toji notices this change and the scarred corner of his lip curled into a smirk.

“how much. . . money do you want for this job?” you go straight to the point. the dark-haired man grins whilst scanning your figure up and down shamelessly, enjoying the confident look on you. it suited you better.

“depends. who is it that i gotta kill?” toji asks, using his thumb to crack his index finger. you look around as if anyone could hear you. you were sure that no one was there with you, no maids no bodyguards no husband, yet your anxiety was still at its peak.

“my husband.” you reply quietly and point at the big picture frame on the wall near the chimney. it was a picture of daisuke and you. you seemed happy there, but it was all for show. that photoshoot was simply for his benefit, “daisuke. daisuke yamamoto.”

toji raises his eyebrow and stares at the picture. he’s heard of that name before. it was mentioned many times in the articles he reads. the assassin stands up with a grunt and walks to the chimney, letting out a small hum like he was thinking about it. not about if he could get the job done—no, his pride told him he easily could—but about the amount of money he wanted to get out of this.

there was a silence before toji turns around on his heels and walks over to the couch again, plopping down on the soft cushions whilst propping his feet on the table in front of him, “around seven million yen will do.”

that was about 50.000 dollars.

your jaw slightly dropped. it’s not like you haven’t seen nor heard of such big numbers before, it’s just that it was a little unexpected. but then again; nothing you can’t afford. with your husband’s money. the same money that ruined your life, is going to be used as a weapon to save it.

daisuke’s own money is going to be the death of him. and you’re the one to guarantee that.

“all right. i can get you that in cash.” you nod idly. your mind was clearly somewhere else—trying to remember the password to daisuke’s safe that was situated in a hidden room near his office. you recently found out that he keeps most cash, gold and other valuable pieces there, away from your sight. he was bad at hiding that fact from you, however.

one night, he came home drunk and it ended up with him confessing to you that he ‘won’t ever let a gold digger like you near his money again’ and proceeded to spill that he ‘has a secret safe which you won’t ever get your hands on’. eventually, you did. after a bit of snooping around, you easily found the hidden room behind a bookcase.

those fat stacks of money in there definitely add up to more than seven million yen. you’re sure of it. the only obstacle in your way is gathering that money. most of the time, daisuke locks his office before leaving home—or if he doesn’t—his maids will be in there cleaning.

“it will take me some time, but…” your voice trails off as a pensive look falls on your face. you bite your bottom lip and try to figure out something—a plan. toji catches your attention again by letting out a deep sigh. he dismissively waves your worries away with one hand;

“tha’s fine, lady. i need some time to prepare for this job too—it ain’t an easy one after all.” the assassin comments whilst scratching the scar near his lips, also seemingly deep in thought about his own plan, “bet he got lots of guards on his ass, too. tch.”

there was another thought in the back of toji’s mind that bothered him. normally, he’d be pissed off if his client didn’t prepare any kind of money beforehand. maybe some compensation bills, or at least a little thing he can have before they give him the full amount.

but with you, he seems not to mind. he wouldn’t be mad if he left this place empty handed for the time being. maybe he actually feels pity for your situation. or was it something else?

toji scoffs at his wandering mind and inwardly tells himself to shut up about such dumb stuff. getting his money is what’s most important to him. if you die afterwards, he wouldn’t care.

that’s what he tells himself.

“anyways. you should gimme all ya know about him. y’re his wife, right? ya should know his routine ‘n stuff that i can work with.” toji speaks up after the ten seconds of silence. you nod at his question—he wanted every single piece of information about your husband, so you’ll give him everything. no details excluded.

you pull out your phone and show toji pictures you took from daisuke’s computer in secrecy. pictures of his daily schedule for the upcoming month. your prior intention by taking those was to know when to be back home or when to avoid him, but they could be useful for this as well.

you continue to explain when and where daisuke holds his breaks, where his main office is located, the bodyguards that accompany him every day and when they leave him alone— all the information you gathered.

toji can’t help but be amazed by your memory. and the fact that you can recall everything, small or big, about your husband. it certainly did make his job easier; now he doesn’t have to pry out more hints on daisuke himself.

of course, you had your reasons for knowing all the miniscule facts about daisuke. it’s how you managed to survive those four years of marriage.

“good. tha’s enough.” toji nods and stands up with a grunt, stretching his arms—the muscles retracting. you couldn’t help but stare at them; he must have gone through a lot of training to become an assassin. a skilled one at that.

“before i go,” toji continues as he walks past you without looking back, heading straight for the exit of the living room, “you should delete all cctv footage that ya got going on ‘round here. i’ll take care of further evidence, yeah?”

toji moves his index finger in a circle, pointing at all corners in the house. he doesn’t want to risk anything, “i’ll call ya once i get things sorted out. then i’ll get to work when ya hand me the money.”

you nod and make a mental note for yourself to do that immediately once toji’s gone. you still had an hour or two before your husband would return. you don’t think he checks the cctv footage often (otherwise he’d have caught you sneaking into his office before), but it’ll be a big problem if he actually does and sees a random man in his home.

“will do. thank you.” you reply to toji and get up to politely see him out of your house. that’s when the realisation kicked in; your husband will be killed by this man right here in front of you. goosebumps appeared on your skin—not from fright. but from… happiness?

this stranger will end years of torment for you. yes, it’s his job. he’ll probably disappear after he’s got the money and completed your request, and yet, you can’t help but be extremely thankful.

without thinking, you reach out and grab onto toji’s wrist to stop him from moving. the assassin doesn’t stiff or tense up by this sudden touch. in fact, he’s already sensed it coming and allowed it.

toji’s actually more surprised by the fact that his mind and body allowed you to touch him. if it were anyone else, he’d probably have avoided their touch, broken their hand or worse—cut it off.

he moves his head to the side and looks at you from his peripherals, though not fully turning to you yet. he doesn’t speak up either; he’s waiting on you to go first.

your heart was somehow starting to beat even faster. you bit your lip and mentally cursed yourself out for pulling such an action; you could’ve just waited to show your gratitude through the phone.

well, either way, there was no going back now so you might as well spill your words of gratitude right this moment. you took a deep breath and parted your lips, ready to talk, but was then interrupted by your biggest nightmare.

a familiar, chilling voice. your heart drops. your body freezes.

“i knew it.”

a looming figure stood near the entrace to the living room. you recognised him instantly, as did your body, which went into an almost paralysed state. your mouth went dry, your hands started shaking and your eyes widened to the point you weren’t blinking anymore.

your husband, daisuke, appeared out of thin air in front of toji and you. his gaze was solely focused on the way your fingers were curled around toji’s wrist. to top it off, he had only heard the last bits of your conversation: something about deleting cctv and money. his brain hadn’t heard the entirety of it—he had already taken wrong conclusions in his head.

daisuke’s veins were on the verge of popping as he took two big steps towards you—you taking two steps back in response.

“i knew you were cheating on me, you fuckin’ slut.” daisuke spits with his finger pointed right at you. he was ignoring toji’s presence for the time being. he had to deal with you first;

“i work my ass off all day and night to provide for you and this is how you repay me? by inviting a random dude over whilst i’m gone? ungrateful bitch.”

two insults in a row; one more and daisuke’s putting his hands on you. it always went like that. your mind felt like it was emptied, but you somehow felt relieved that your husband didn’t seem to know the real reason of why toji had come over. daisuke really thought you were just cheating on him, and that your words of ‘deleting all cctv footage’ was to hide that infidelity.

“it’s n-not.. like that, daisuke.” you try to soothe the raging man in front of you, but your attempts were futile. he was just three quick steps away from resorting to physical violence.

toji, in the meantime, had stepped off to the side. you were only his client, thus there was no need to interrupt a couple’s ‘dispute’. you weren’t anyone dear or special to him—just a client. a stranger that owes him money to perform a job.

the assassin leans against a nearby wall, crossing his arms over his chest whilst watching the scene unfold. it was unfortunate that toji’s target was right there in front of him; he could just kill him right now. get the job done and over with. but, once again, toji only got to work if he had the money. he only assassinates when his skills are paid for. not any earlier and not any later. those were his morals—the rules he lives by.

if toji wanted to, he could simply walk away and let you handle this stuff by yourself. daisuke accusing him of being your ‘thing on the side’ didn’t bother him. as long as your husband doesn’t know his real identity, he’s fine with whatever accusations that get thrown at him.

but, for some reason—the same reason from earlier—his body was yelling at him to stay. toji sighs; he knows he won’t ever win a battle against his heart’s needs. he decides to stay.

daisuke still doesn’t seem to care about this; all the man wants is to out his anger and accuse you of things he now has enough ‘evidence’ for. he was seething and fuming at this revelation.

“god knows what else you’ve done behind my back. i bet he isn’t the only one you’ve fucke—“

“stop! i’m not cheating,” you finally yell back. it was the first time in a while that you had gathered the strength to do so. it felt good now that you had stuck up for yourself, but you knew how this would end for you—probably on the floor. crying.

despite all of that, you decided to keep on going. it’s now or never: all you have to do is make up a lie, probably withstand daisuke’s anger again and hope it doesn’t kill you. just this once; all you have to do is survive this once and then you’ll be freed from him.

you’ll give toji his money and he will do the job for you. just a few more days—

“he’s.. he’s my friend’s husband. i invited them both over and he just arrived earlier than expected.” you quickly made up. it sounded a little convincing to you. toji’s low snicker of amusement in the back confirmed that it maybe was the opposite of convincing.

daisuke scoffs at the pathetic attempt of hiding your ‘infidelity’. with another step forward, he raises his voice a notch; “yeah, right! what a pathetic excuse.”

a second step—you were waiting on that third curse. that third swear word that would set hell loose in this house, “do you really think you can fool me with that? huh?!”

it hadn’t happened yet. you still had time to think of a plan to perhaps escape this situation. your eyes flickered over to toji, although it didn’t seem like he’d be of any help. of course, he’s just an outsider after all. a stranger whom you just met today.

assassins have already disregarded their heart emotions the moment they decided to go down the path of killing for a living. you wouldn’t even blame toji for not stepping in. you’re also but a stranger to him.

toji could see the glimmer of hope in your eyes when you looked at him. or maybe it was a call for help. a desperate look. he can’t tell the difference. though, what he can tell, is that there was a gnawing feeling in the pits of his stomach. a gut feeling that told him it’d be smart to interfere.

but there’s his rational thoughts that tell him to not get involved—to avoid any more trouble than needed. besides, what other benefits would it bring him if he did? toji doesn’t want to be seen as a hero or saviour by anyone.

his jaw clenches as the time ticks. only a couple seconds left before the cold-hearted assassin has to make a decision.

daisuke’s patience was running low. the tension was increasing and could burst at any given moment now. one wrong move and you’re done—

one wrong breath could result in the worst possible outcome.

your silence spoke volumes to daisuke. the way you held your head low, your eyes that flickered from the floor to the ceiling, your fingers that nervously fumbled with your clothes and your bottom lip that trembled unstoppably. that pissed him off.

everything about you pissed him off. daisuke didn’t see any benefits of having you around anymore. he hadn’t for the long time, however didn’t know how he’d get rid of you.

divorce? no, he’ll have to give some of his earnings to you. kick you out? a possibility, but that would ruin his reputation. blackmail? that option was now the best choice. he’s caught you with another man after all. with camera evidence.

but, daisuke wouldn’t be satisfied with that outcome. his rage was blinding him—more than usual. he has to make you learn your lesson. in a way that will have you begging for your life to be spared.

and thus, the last step was made. the deciding hands were raised—aimed for your neck. the final curse had left his lips;

“come here. i’ll show you how whores like you should be treated.”

killing intent. it was the first time you’ve seen daisuke’s gaze darken that much, his demeanour emotionless yet full of rage. you close your eyes and expect for the worse.

“tha’s enough.”

everything went blank to you. it was silent, your vision was black, your hands were above your head, your heart felt like it wasn’t beating anymore—had you met your end? had you already been murdered?

in that same instant, you could feel drops of liquid splatter on your face. a faint ringing sound in your ears—it sounded like fireworks had been set off. a loud ‘pop’ sound.

something hit the ground right after. it wasn’t your body since that someone or something landed right at your feet.

after that: utter silence.

you gathered all your strength once more and slowly opened your eyelids. your vision was a bit blurry, though the first shape you could make out was one of a man on the ground. and not just any man—it was the man whom you hated most. at your feet.

you would’ve never thought of seeing that image before. of your husband laying at your feet; both literally and figuratively. a red liquid gushed out of his head and soaked into your shoes.

a normal wife would’ve let out a blood hurling scream at the sight of her lover laying lifelessly near her. a normal wife with a healthy relationship, that is.

you did let out a scream at the sight of your husband laying lifelessly near your feet. but that wasn’t done out of panic for your husband’s life—or due to the pain you were in to see him dead.

it was purely because you hadn’t seen a corpse before.

“d-daisuke..?”

a normal wife would’ve called out her husband’s name in a futile attempt that he’d answer back. that all of it was a dream. that her beloved wasn’t dead.

your reason wasn’t anything close to that. you called out that name in hopes he wouldn’t answer back. that all of it wasn’t a dream. that your abuser was dead.

it was real. you were glad, yet extremely disturbed by the fact that there was a corpse at your feet. you didn’t want to see all of it happening—that wasn’t part of the plan.

you stumble back a bit, hands clutching onto the chair you bumped into as you did your best to avoid the gruesome scene before your eyes. you just wished someone would clean the mess as soon as possible.

it’s then that your gaze fell on the other person present in the room; the man who was standing with a gun in his hand. toji scratched his head with the barrel, cold eyes looking down at the corpse with a faintly visible disgusted expression.

the assassin clicks his tongue as he walks towards the lifeless body and puts the sole of his shoe on daisuke’s cheek as if he was stepping on a pile of dirt, moving the head back and forth to check for any possible ounce of life in there.

there was none. the soul had left its body almost instantly after that bullet went through his brain. toji sighs; this time at himself for acting irrationally, “should’ve tortured you to death for tryin’ to put y’r hands on that lady instead of givin’ you the easy way out.”

with a harsh kick to the head on the floor, toji gathers some of his saliva on his tongue before spitting on the man. doubling the disrespect; “consider yourself lucky.”

toji cocked his head to the right. that’s where he spotted you with a familiar look on your face. the expression of someone who just went through a traumatic experience. he’s seen many people react like you when facing a near death experience or when witnessing somebody die before them.

usually, he’d tell them ‘it’s normal, get used to it’ and leave it at that. this was different. it felt different with you.

“are you okay?” the words slipped out of toji’s mouth before he could hold them back. his tone was a mixture of genuine concern and confusion. the latter was due to his own state of mind at the moment.

you didn’t answer, but you put your hands on your mouth as if you were going to puke any moment now. your vision was getting blurry with tears, head spinning and body feeling numb and weird.

toji hesitates before stepping towards you. his hands reached out to hold you, though he stopped them. he’d figured you wouldn’t be comfortable with him touching you in any way or form. he just killed someone in front of you—

it’s not like you cared that it was your husband. that much was clear. you sniff and glance up at toji with such a relieved yet devastated expression that his arms instinctively wrapped around you and pulled you into his warm embrace.

it was an awkward hug since toji doesn’t really know the basics of comforting someone. he was a bit stiff, but you didn’t show any discomfort due to that fact. instead, you clung onto his body and left tear stains on his black shirt.

“shhh, shh. it’s fine. it’s okay.” toji whispers, whilst his big hands indecisively move around, trying to find a spot to rest on. one eventually lands on the back of your head whilst the other starts to slowly rub up and down your spine, “it’s over, yeah? all of it—it’s over.”

toji doesn’t have a clue about the exact details of what your life was like. why you asked him to kill your (now ex-)husband was none of his business. all he knew was that he was going to get paid for it, so he didn’t care what the reason was.

it wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed the scars and bruises on your body throughout your conversation either—but that as well—was none of his business. assassins do their job without any further questions. there was no need to have personal connections or relations with their clients.

yet, toji was going against those unspoken rules once more. all because of you. for you.

“thank y—you.” your voice was weak as you speak up. it sounded hoarse and tired, though the sense of gratitude was undeniably there, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

a series of ‘thank you’s’ leave your lips whilst your body and mind were still trying to recover from the whole ordeal. toji was trying his best to keep by your side until you calmed down. that’s the least he could do—after the fact that he singlehandedly got rid of the main problem in your life.

“no need to thank me, lady.” the dark-haired man whispers, allowing you to mess up his shirt with your tears and tugs, “i did what i had to do.”

toji didn’t actually have to do what he did. he never does his job before he’s guaranteed the money. however this time, it was a different story. he did it without thinking. he had to. his body was telling him to move—and in a flash—it was done.

he tries to tell himself that it’s just him slacking off. that he isn’t possibly starting to care about another person. he shouldn’t; those complicated emotions would stand in his way. and yet. . .

“c’mere.”

toji lifts you up bridal style while you keep quivering against his shoulder. his hands had a tight grip on your body, his eyes a sharp gaze on the mess he created. with a sigh, he takes you upstairs to a random room—kicking the door open.

toji carefully puts you back on your feet and guides you to sit on the edge of the kingsized bed. he absentmindedly brushes a few strands of your hair back after wiping some more tears away from your face;

“i know it’s a lot to take in,” toji kneels down before you, looking up with an unreadable expression whilst wiping the tears from your cheeks. his warm palms make contact with your skin and it’s like you’ve forgotten all about what just happened, “but is it okay if ya stay here while i go take care of the rest? i’ll come back once i’m done.”

toji has his own ways of cleaning up after he’s done a job and most likely wants to put one of those techniques to use before any maid or guard comes to check in on the house situation. you sniffle and hiccup afterwards, trying to form a verbal response through your broken sobs, but to no avail.

you simply nod and lean into toji’s calloused hands—such rough and masculine hands—ones that were meant to protect instead of hurt you. you weren’t able to trust men after your marriage, however this one in front of you was unlike any other. even if he may not seem like it on the outside.

his touch was gentle yet firm. the pads of his thumbs swiped the wet skin under your lower eyelashes and you could’ve sworn toji’s gaze had softened for a split second before he caught himself.

he had to stand up, get rid of the mess and leave the place before he got too attached to you. the assassin cannot make such a grave mistake.

“i promise,” toji speaks up after a bit again, standing up after giving you a soft pat against your shoulder, “you’re fine. i’ll be back—ya have my word.”

there he goes; making promises he knows he probably can’t keep. ‘i’ll be back’, will he? he can’t. for your own safety. he has to treat you as just another client. none of what he did in this house could be spoken of anymore.

he slipped up this once. it needn’t to happen again. money. he does his jobs for money—when he obtains the money. he doesn’t kill his targets for the sake of others, for the protection of others.

he doesn’t kill for love.

toji wishes that all of this had never happened, because he knows that his heart will lead him back to you at the end of the day. he knows he won’t leave once he cleans up the mess downstairs. he’ll come right back to you.

and you have faith in that. you trust this stranger whom had practically saved your life with just one shot.

“i don’t know how to repay you.. thank you.” you manage to mutter through shallow breaths. you stare at the back of toji’s head as he makes his way to the door. he stops in his tracks to reply to your comment.

he stands still at the doorway and looks over his shoulder at you—the scarred corner of his lips twitching;

“prepare the money. tha’s how you can repay me.” toji replies and you don’t know if he’s joking or being serious because of that little grin on his face. a breathy chuckle follows and then the assassin disappears.

the door closes and you’re left alone in this space. left alone in the silence of the home that had treated you as its prisoner. you remember how your husband used to lock you up in your bedroom whenever you had done something to piss him off; taking away your freedom by keeping you in a room.

now it’s yours—your life is yours. you’ve fully gained your freedom back and can decide what to do for yourself. it seems like a foreign situation, a foreign world, a foreign concept; you can now actually do whatever your heart desires. without any restraints.

“what is a successful marriage?”

well, to you, it’s one with a satisfactory ending.

🏷️ : @satoruhour @squicksquak @omgeto @xmintpie @cursingtoji @obsidiannero @elmoees @x1aosg1rl @fushironi @ceceher @ajax1230 @toji-is-hot @jayugh @rinshoe @sligerate @satoryaa @luveblad3 @happystrawberrytyrant @ezraiix

[zoropookie]

SWEET MELODY

☆ epilogue || there are weirder ways to learn about each other (🎂)

Admittedly, reading that text, you fumbled your phone remembering the short time limit.

Your pulse quickened as soon as you did, though. And instead of acknowledging the prevalent gong that struck in your chest, you knew by just a glance of the clock and the blaring concession that you were still in your pajamas after getting home that you were pretty much screwed.

The message glared at you bluntly. You scrambled to your feet with the finesse and charm of a terrified deer. Clothes, socks, shoes, for some reason while you were searching for everything you were wearing, they didn't fit as snugly as before. You were also putting them on entirely wrong, in theory too, but you weren't thinking about that too much at the moment. Everything you did need was scattered in complete disarray, and your brain continued to move too fast to remember where you even left anything in the first place.

You hissed in mild defeat, dropping to your knees to snatch just the plain sweater you were wearing and hiding your pajama shirt that said 'Certified Almond Lover' on the front.

A strangled laugh escaped you, half-amusement, half-panic that this was happening again. You were getting deja vu despite not having lived through this for the absolute longest time, and for some reason, it flooded your soul with an intoxicating, more interesting rush of life. A torrent of the evocations you had yet to revisit now that you brought the memorabilia to the front of the house and cleaned up everything else.

By the time you burst outside, his car was already in the driveway, where he stood there, scrolling through his phone in the frosting air. Even standing in place, he seemed so unbothered, the biting winter failing to even faze him. A dark scarf loose around his neck as his strands of hair brushed over his cheeks in the light gales. The sheer image of him was making the mess of your chest come to a complete stop.

Your breath was puffing out the chills of the atmosphere by the time you bolted down the front steps, the sight of your ex-boyfriend giving you a different type of chills. His head slowly moved up towards you once aware of a peep, clutching the phone in his hand for a minute, sucking in his cheek.

"Cutting it close, huh?" He asked, his timbre questionably calm and his expression unreadable but for the glistering mirth in his expression, eyes sizing you up for the first time in a while, taking in your, to some degree, untidy appearance. "Did you forget?"

You started toying with the bottom half of your sweater, intentionally oversized as you avoided locking gazes with him. "I...may have lost track of time."

"Mmhm," he replied, clearly unconvinced. He noncommittally slipped his phone in his pocket and took a slow inhale and exhale. "After giving you an hour and a half, I would have thought you'd at least have the thought not to show yourself out in Satoru Gojo pajama pants. In the snow."

Your hands spontaneously flew down to your sweater as you attempted to pull the sweater over your sleepwear, you yanked it further with a small heat crawling up your neck and to your ears. "I...I wasn't planning on you showing up until you were ready. Who knew that you would be ready...right now? I got distracted!"

"Yeah? By what?" He asked, and while his tone wasn't accusatory, it was in the same energy, curious. Unfastened and disconnected in the way that made you feel twelve times more ridiculous.

"Cleaning..?" You sputtered impulsively, looking away.

"Cleaning." He echoed flatly.

Your lips opened and closed like you were trying to find a better excuse, but the actual truth was lingering on the tip of your tongue and fizzling out constantly, not even deniable to how you actually felt. Tidying up wasn't an excuse, rather than a genuine way to cope with you not really feeling like you knew how to distract yourself from the growing bow in your chest. "Too far-fetched?" You asked, a small laugh in the place of inopportune.

He was in a intricate contradiction, whittled, but aerially tender. The turn of his jaw was defined, in a soft capture of your molten irises, it was kind of holding him captive. Staring at you with a vehemence that was on the verge of insufferable. Endless expanse of his contemplations and the feeling billowing beneath the surface. It wasn't loud, or crystal clear; no, it was the kind of typhoon you felt seeing him again at Ei's house for the first time.

Drawing you in again, his lashes were dark and fine, firming his optics with a featheriness belying their polish. Like glass, impossible to ignore after a cut, his lips parted slightly, as if to speak, but it was with hesitant composure. "I'm leaving."

Your shoulders dropped at him, disappointed that this was the news he decided to bring along to your house, but you didn't falter this time. Your heart skipped a beat, not having much of a useful answer right away. At least, not one you wanted to say aloud. "So I've heard," you sighed, breaking eye contact again. "You didn't have to visit. I know you're busy."

His hands disappeared in his coat pockets once he started discerning the frigidness. His breath was visible between you two as he scoffed. "We're past being selfless.” He muttered, but there was no real heat in his voice. If anything, he sounded tired.

“Well, calling sounds a lot better when you’re under pressure, and a tour sounds like a hard swallow.” You swallowed hard and thick, voice quieter now. “I don’t want you to do any catering, you know what you need to do, and so do I.”

"I wanted to see you.” He snarked half-heartedly.

Your stomach twisted, it was the simplicity of his words that got you, and you forced another shaky laugh to ebb the rest of your tenseness. “Okay…” You said, a lot more disjointed than intended.

He leaned in slowly, the change in his stance creating flimsiness within the distance. He carefully dismantled it, his existence alone was pressing into you, pulling you into an ellipse without ever laying a finger on you. His face hovered closer, head tipping slightly to memorize you, study your new movements and practices now that you were…unfamiliar.

“Okay?” His voice was low, pulling you much like the sinewy drifts you felt in your stomach. Faint scent of his light trace, testing the heft of his words with a lace.

While your gaze darts away involuntarily consistent, Kuni didn’t let you escape so easily. He moved nearer to you, chin aslant downwards, chasing your expression with little purpose other than to get some sort of rise out of you.

As a small and teasing smile graced his lips, the sound of your own pulse was beating in his ears as you slowly lifted your eyes back to his. It was near impossible to ignore him like this— the same person who you were entirely head over heels for. And in a sense, you felt like you still were.

“There you are.” He said, more elated while his voice remained silent as the neighborhood they lived in. The corner of his lips twitched…from amusement? Frustration? You couldn’t tell. Even if he hadn’t touched you, it felt a lot like he had his hand on your back, comforting it leisurely. It sent mold shivers down your spine, and a leering heat stroke from how bad you were feeling it.

You bit your lip, “The tour,” you tried to make out, but you were jittery the second you attempted to control yourself. “It’s really tonight?”

He nodded. “Midnight bus.”

You hesitated, your heart dropping to the bottom of your stomach in seconds. It rendered strange to you, even with the current circumstances leading them here. That Kuni would be like this again. “How long?”

Kuni mulled on it, “Three months,” he mulled, tone even. “It depends on how well it goes.”

There was no problem waiting an entire three months to do something, you were usually used to that prospect anyway considering you owned a business at one point, but there was something extremely agitating about this trial of patience in particular.

You couldn’t control it, nor put it to an immediate stop. You were forced to bear the burden of realizing you couldn’t hold back change no matter what you did. Even if it was fluid enough to come back. “You’ll come back, right?” You glanced down at your hands, fidgeting with the sleeves on your sweater.

Almost as if scrutinizing you in silence, he gave way to something gentler in comparison to his usual approach. You didn’t necessarily feel like you were standing on the edge of prejudice these days with him, “I always do.”

Nearing silence was not spoken for, but it wasn’t awkward nor painful to sit in with him this time around. It said words that neither of you could even fathom about yourselves, about the times that have passed. Your chest tightened in expectation still, and you stiffened. “Did you come by just to say that you’d miss me?” Your eyes lit up.

He leaned back ever so slightly, his breath was seeable in comparison to how he was again. He tilted his head just enough for his hair to shift against the angles of his face. His exterior a crack in marble, only showing its light in the right position. “Did you get the message, or did you want to wring it out of me?”

The fervor in your face increased, and you were left to simply say something incoherent under your breath. “I’ll miss you too.”

He caught the sound, but instead of poking at your father, the moment settled. His snarky visibility settling to something soundless, off the record. He wandered over your mannerisms again, your bitten lip, subtle line of tension on your brow, your lips together like they were trying hard to hold something back.

Even if it was just to live vicariously here for one last moment before he was suffering at consistent demands, he considered it worth the time and effort these days. A bigger change than he realized, and all you could do in comeback was twist the fabric of your sweater in bunches under your fingers while attempting to even your breathing.

There was no more shortness of the distance, because it was hardly there anymore. The gap had simmered away, leaving your breath to hitch again after regaining it, stopping mere inches from you. He looked at you again, with that same unafraid look. The look he carried with him while he was telling you off, and the look he’s keep with him now that he was leaving you for a while. His expression reverent, and like a precious gem.

His hands lifted slowly from his sides as the faint hesitation in his motion caught him by surprise. Your cold cheeks were replaced by the somewhat warmth of his touch, his thumb brushed slightly beneath your cheekbone, the metal ring grazing softly on your skin. You leaned into his touch like clockwork, featherlight and stopping every now and then, you were too nervous to look into his eyes even if something was entrancing about it.

He was sure again, with a more dainty unsureness nestled in him. “Is this okay?” He asked, but quiet enough that only you could hear.

You swallowed all the words you were going to say, what you were supposed to now that he wouldn’t be here long. “Yes,” Your voice tremors.

His lips twitched in the smallest guise of a smile. His hands now a ghost of a presence and you were forced to feel the shivers on your spine move up, creating goosebumps like no other. He leaned into slowly, taking your lips in his again. This time, the earth was holding its breath in anticipation, just as you were.

Kuni’s lips were soft, even when there was a determinedness to the way he kissed you. Like he had something else to prove to you that wasn’t just his proudness speaking in his ear. It mattered to him, anyway, it was why his hands never left, it’s why his kisses started to deepen with every retract. A press of his presence, grounding you, setting in your racing heart like the sweetest melody.

Not hurried, nor urgent, just consuming you all the same.

Lips brushing on you, your head in a flurry that was similar to the whisper of winter’s first snowfall. He was merciful, forbearing, fleeting with every second that you took for granted. Time was stretching impossibly long between the two of you, and you were almost at peace to say that this was something you wished you felt again. The adorations of his feathering pecks, he wasn’t afraid to kiss you, but he was yearning.

Love to you was a lot like feeling yearned for. That’s all you ever knew, and it was a feeling you wished many had the pleasure of growing fond of. The feeling making you want to jump into the air in a burst of energy, the lingering patience of your ex-lover remaining in your palm, and you savored it.

When he finally pulled back, a part of Kunikuzushi Raiden didn’t want to let the harrowing future take hold. Drawing back meant he had to leave right now, lips hovering close in a contemplating to keep going, ignoring a schedule. He stood there, memorizing that feeling.

You let him, and instead of embarrassing him once he removed himself from you, watching his eyes flick back open to see your beaming expression, you quietly rubbed at your arm. “I didn’t like that one either.” You broke the silence with a small and unserious utterance, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, it kind of sucked.”

previous ☆ masterlist

THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.

taglist ☆ — @seternic @chemiru @coquettemaiden @1kio0o @emiixuu

@agaygothicmushroom @yomishen @jingyuan-wife-real @toruscorpse @whoooismkeee

@sketcheeee @st4r4ngel @xionri @scaradooche @lightyagamifan

@pwushizz @alatusorrow @eutopiastar @magica-ren @slu7

@vaxmpi @theyluvkatt @kyon-cherri @suzydarling @mimi3lover

@auroratumbles @heusalettle @yourfavoritefreakyhan @kunimylovee

@czerwka @little-honey-the-third @featuredtofu @simonisferal @peachystea

@liuaneee @skyoverkill1 @mellowberrie @lalalaloveallmydays @mostlymoth

@mtndewbajablasted @vernith @lovekeychains @danhenglovebot @elizshade

@balladeersflower @kazumiku @bananasquash @neversore @yevurin

@franaby @vicslz @kamiboo @thegalaxyisunfolding @morgyyyyyyy

@feikyuu @tamikahoshiko @kissingkzuha @bbysatoruuu @rvoulte

@kinvasion @kukikoooo @adriannauodi @pumpkincitrus @usagiarchive

@eunseok-s @state-of-grac3 @ariesloves @trulyylee @lyzeivr

@suniika @animeobsessed56 @kamisstufff @samyayaya @scarawiki

@mywillt0live @lxkeeeee @sundays-prince @imnotyizhuo @js-a-silly-little-guy

@dontmindtheevie @mywillt0live @gl00muraaii