#but it actually tastes so good you all should try it

[socksracoon10]

p2 where the argument turns into a makeout sesh yes or yes?

𝐇𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐧 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐)

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: (𝘠/𝘕) (𝘓/𝘕) 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯… 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴? Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr. x F!Reader, Charles Leclerc x F!Reader, Max Verstappen x F!Reader A/N: I AM SO HAPPY SOMEONE ASKED FOR A PART 2 BECAUSE THAT'S ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT SINCE I POSTED THE FIC YESTERDAY... anon thank you I was over here giggling and kicking my feet reading your ask... uh halfway through writing this I realized I got carried away it's MUCH longer than I intended LMFAO Read The First Part: Hit and Run

𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙤𝙨 𝙎𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙯 𝙅𝙧.

"Hey man, next time you race try not to kill the other drivers," (Y/N) (L/N) sunk down into the P3 chair next to Sainz, who had just won the race. He glanced over at her with a scowl, clearly wanting to say some nasty things if it wasn't for the million cameras in the cooldown room. She shifted in her seat, stretching her arms as she watched the race's highlights on the screen besides her. Carlos and her both had a spectacular race, considering they had started from the bottom of the grid more or less. She knew she had the skills to get to the podium, but she was surprised at the fact that Carlos had managed to somehow win the race from nowhere. It didn't seem like his normal self and she wondered what could've motivated him to actually drive good for once.

"Next time you race, try not to be cocky and drag other drivers down," Carlos grumbled, his voice was muffled due to the rag that was currently soaking up all of the sweat on his face. She glared at him, holding an accusatory finger to the air before Max had settled down in the P2 chair. He shook Carlos's hand, before waving at (L/N). The room was silent, spare Max rambling on about what he saw during the race. As Max continued to talk, (L/N)'s eyes flickered occasionally onto Carlos, wondering what was going through his mind. She was definitely in the wrong, but her ego wouldn't handle that and she needed to tear him a new one once they were done with all the celebrations. She always hated this circuit anyway.

"She's not supposed to be here, mate," Charles giggled, jerking his thumb towards the woman that was angrily storming into Ferrari's garage. Carlos looked up from where he sat with a groan escaping his lips.

"She isn't," Carlos stood up, taking the cap off his head to run a hand through his hair, "I suppose you've come to apologize for your behavior this weekend? Or last weekend? Or the many weekends before that?" "Apologize?" (L/N) snorted, rolling her eyes, "I've come to ask about what you said at the press pen!"

Charles, sensing the tension between the two, gently ushered the two into Carlos's driver's room before shutting the door. The last thing Ferrari needed after this lovely weekend was to deal with the drivers having to go through PR training once again, especially with the amount of times Carlos had been talking shit about (Y/N) (L/N). Carlos had stood by the door, arms crossed as he gestured with his hands for her to begin whatever stupid argument she had managed to pull out of her ass this time.

"You remember what you said?" She growled, and when she saw him shake his head, her nostrils flared, "You literally told the press, 'sometimes, I like to put people in the places they belong and that's precisely what I did with (L/N)', are you kidding me?"

"You should be happy," Carlos scoffed, "I could've said way worse. Besides, I was giving you a taste of your own medicine. You said after qualifying yesterday that even with a million practices, I'd still fumble."

"Yeah, because you do! You're inconsistent as hell and that's why-"

"And yet who won the race today starting behind you." Carlos interrupted her. She closed her mouth, chest heaving. Carlos could see the gears turn in her head, she was trying so hard to come up with something. He had a smug smile on his face and somehow this was more victorious than winning the Grand Prix.

"It doesn't matter if you win today or not, you won't be driving for Ferrari soon, anyway," She spat. She smirked at the way his face fell, her arms crossed with her head tilted upwards. That cocky look on her face that always drove him wild.

"You're such an asshole," Carlos seethed, and before she could respond with a snarky remark, his lips crashed onto her. His hands came to hold onto the sides of her face, pulling her as close to him as he could. He pulled away for a brief second to take a quick breath and noticed the way her eyes widened, "Did you just kiss me? Listen here buddy, I'll have you know that-" Her words died down when she noticed Carlos's eyes flicker to her lips. God, her absolute hatred for him made her forget how charming he truly was. She wouldn't admit to it, though. Not now nor ever. Right now, all they needed was to blow off this steam. She grabbed onto his neck, pulling him down to another searing kiss, eyes closed as their teeth crashed into one another. She tugged his hair and he squeezed her waist, both of them realizing that feelings may not exist at the moment, it was all about just shutting each other up.

"I hate you," She murmured before going in for another kiss.

"I hate you more," His lips attached to her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses that were sure to bruise her.

"Well, I hate you the most, stop trying to be better than me." She snapped in a strained voice and he groaned out loud, pulling back to stare at her,

"How much money do I have to pay for you to shut up?"

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙇𝙚𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙘

Charles didn't win the next race, unfortunately. He was a bit happy that he didn't DNF, but the fact that the winner of the race was none other than his sworn enemy did little to comfort him. He glanced over to Max who was at P2, and looked around to the room to make sure that rat wasn't lurking nearby.

"W-What was the gap between you and her?" Charles asked. He knew asking would literally do him 0 help, but he couldn't stop himself from wanting to know.

"I want to say around a good 20 seconds or so? Maybe a bit more, I wasn't too sure," Max responded, watching Charles sink deeper in his seat with a look of despair. He gulped, staring aimlessly onto the wall in front of him. How was she that fast? What had she done with the car overnight?

"I'm sorry for (Y/N) for the next few races," He heard her, loud and clear, as she entered the cooldown room, mocking him for what he said last weekend. Charles instantly glared at her, not even bothering to hide his true intentions. No amount of PR training could hide his disgust for her. She settled into her seat, relishing in the feeling of being the race winner.

"You do anything with your car?" Charles grunted, and she shook her head,

"No, no. I just have more skill," She flashed him a smile, before getting up once again to grab a bottle of water. Max, for once in his life, decided to be quiet in the room and see the argument follow through. He'd heard Charles tell him multiple times about how (L/N) got on his nerves, but seeing it in person would be amazing.

"I doubt that. You used to place below me during the races," Charles took a sip of his water.

"What are you insinuating then?" She snarled, and Max glanced over to the camera crew, signaling for them to leave. While this would do numbers for the ratings and news headlines, they were promised some share of money if they got their asses out.

"Um guys, I don't think we should be fighting, we have to cooldown anyway..." Max began, but his words fell onto deaf ears as Charles stood up from his seat to stalk over to where she stood.

"Maybe you'd be more likeable if you were honest with yourself, sometimes cheaters-" Charles began, standing his ground when she yelled back,

"So you think I cheated in this race? Seriously? That's your argument?"

"Well, we do know that last weekend there was water in your tires," Charles snapped,

"That wasn't my fault? Stop being such a sore loser, Leclerc. Maybe this is why you haven't won a championship yet."

Max's jaw dropped as he watched the words fly out of her mouth. Charles, in the meantime, tossed his water bottle to the ground and stepped closer to her with his finger in her face,

"At least I raced clean without losing grip when I tried to overtake someone. You just got lucky today, that's it."

"Luck, really? Yeah, tell me about your luck when you're fighting more with your teammate than with the other drivers on the grid during the race." She hissed.

Was it the air? Was it the fact that the adrenaline was still high after the race, or was it the fact that despite not being able to stand each other they were only centimeters apart. It didn't take long before Charles's hand dug into her scalp, pulling her head back ever so slightly as he kissed her. Seeing this as another challenge, (L/N) brought Charles down to the ground, both of them fighting to be on top while still furiously kissing each other. His hands gripped her waist and she had her arms around his neck, dragging him towards her as they rolled off of each other on the ground, tongues practically in each other's mouths with the intention of wanting to ruin each other. She scratched him, he yanked her hair, she punched his chest and he twisted her arm and yet their lips never stopped wanting to consume the other. It wasn't until (L/N) pulled away to breathe again did they both realize that Max was still there with a very shocked expression.

"I'm... I'm just going to leave and make sure uh no one else enters this room but uh guys you might want to... put yourself together before we get on the podium," Max had one hand covering his eyes as he walked out of the room.

"Do you think he's gonna tell people we just made out?" She asked, propping herself onto her elbows.

"I doubt it," Charles responded with a roll of his eyes, "I mean, who would go and loudly state that Charles Leclerc was kissing you of all people? I wouldn't wish that upon my worst enemy."

He winced when her hand smacked the back of his head.

𝙈𝙖𝙭 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣

Max never forgot. He never forgot anything. He had made a promise to himself that he would wipe that smirk off her face and he intended to keep it. Even with all the setbacks that he was facing this particular weekend. Back to back penalties, a grip drop and on top of all this, a very haughty (Y/N) (L/N) purposely bumping into him on the paddock with a bright smile,

"Have fun! I've always wondered how the view from the back would look like for you," She chirped, speeding past him on a scooter. Max's jaw went taut, and he did little to hide his anger for the rest of the day. He was going to make sure that the race tomorrow would haunt her for the rest of her life. She had chosen the wrong person to mess with and he was determined to prove it to her.

Max was on a different level during the race, he was unbelievably fast and it surprised everyone but mainly (Y/N) (L/N).

Her radio went off, and someone buzzed through, "Max is currently at P6, he's coming up behind you."

"What the hell?" Her voice was a bit quiet, still in disbelief at the fact that Max was now right behind her, "How does he do this?"

And before she can react further, she sees him overtake her as he flashed his middle finger at her before speeding off. That got her going, and despite the radio telling her to calm down and control her motions, she began to chase after Max. Her ego was bruised but surely she could redeem herself. Unfortunately, she lost grip and her car went spiraling out of control towards the barriers.

"A safety car will be deployed soon, Max," GP informed the driver.

"Who crashed?"

"(Y/N) (L/N)."

Max couldn't help the giggle that escaped his lips, and to quote Alonso he merely stated, "Karma..." before turning his radio off for the rest of the race.

By the time all the celebrations were done, Max walked past (L/N)'s garage and he noticed the way she was pouting, legs crossed as she was busy texting somebody. Her fingers flew across the screen, and it almost looked like she was about to cry. Max did feel a bit bad for her, he knew she had worked to get to where she was - she was after all the only female driver on the grid so she was talented. He walked over to her in the best hopes that he could try to make her feel better, I mean he wasn't a monster.

"Oh, look who's here, the ugly ass sloth who can't mind his own business," She sneered, crossing her arms as she looked up at him. Yeah, that was it. Max didn't want to comfort her anymore, he was going to stoop down to her level.

"You know, maybe if you learned to shut your mouth and admit your mistakes, you could've actually done well in the race today." He scoffed, towering over her. She stood up, going back to texting her friend with a scowl on her face.

"Texting your mechanics to help salvage what's left of the car?" Max snorted.

"No, I'm texting my friend about how some douchebag keeps talking to me like I even asked for him. Like why the hell are you even here? Go back to your own garage, asshole." She snapped, pocketing her phone. Max threw his backpack onto the ground besides her and took a step forward,

"You know I was going to be nice to you-"

"You said Karma over the radio, I heard that shit clearly," She hissed, stepping closer as well.

"I said it in the moment, but right now I was going to be nice. I was going to comfort you. You are talented, you're not a shit driver like I said you were, but God... your ego. Your stubbornness. Your... your absolute pathetic move to shift the blame onto someone else for your wrong doings. Get over yourself, you don't know shit about your own car and yet you always blame me for something during the race!"

"My car is completely fine before you wrecked it!"

"Oh, so that DNF last weekend was my fault? You rammed into me! Let's not forget that!" Max yelled, glancing over to the new shiny car that would be in use next weekend.

"Oi, eyes on me," She snapped her fingers in his face, grabbing his jaw to turn it to her, "Don't stare at my winning car."

Max yanked her hand from his jaw, glaring at her. Oh, he hated her. He hated her so much. Even when he wanted to be nice to her, she always found a way to ruin it. How was it possible for a woman as beautiful and genuinely talented as her to somehow always end up as the most annoying, stuck-up little piece of shit that he had ever seen? Within seconds, he had her against her "amazing" car with his lips onto her. She gasped in surprise, eyes darting to the corner of the garage to make sure all the mechanics had left, but considering the way Max was making her melt in his kiss, her worries soon faded away. Max had one hand pressing her down against the car, her back hit the edge of the halo and she groaned in pain, causing her to arch into him as he deepened the kiss. Her hands came to grip onto his shoulders as she bit down on his bottom lip, and she could feel him smiling against her.

"I wish you were like this every weekend," He whispered, delving into another kiss. She wrapped her hand in his hair, tugging him gently away from her,

"I hope you realize this is a one time occurrence. I have standards," She smirked.

"They must be pretty low then like your racing skills," Max snapped, kissing her once more as he felt her smirk fade against his lips. He really did mean it when he said he was going to wipe it off her face, he just never imagined it to be in this way.

"Shut up," She mumbled, "Just shut up."

[dovveri]

pleaseee thigh riding with sana. shes extremely mean after a little teasing. lots of degrading. :D

the edge's temptation

synopsis: what the ask said

warnings: edging, spanking, pussy spanking, swearing, mentions of exhibitionism, kind of petplay? but not rly idk reader wears a collar and leash and sana calls her pup like once, grinding, thigh-riding, strap-ons, degradation

w/c: 2k

a/n: this has been sitting in drafts since... june 22 LMAOO id write like one sentence a week i cant write smut id rather kiss a man but here it is at last!! idk if the anon who req this is still here after all the drama but i think there are others who'll like this anyway bcs yall all horknee so enjoy!

｡ •̀ ᵕ •́ ｡

your girlfriend was impossible. she had already edged you twice tonight, and an orgasm was nowhere in sight.

"s-sana p-le-ase!"

she tuts, "what do you want?"

"wanna c-cum! p-please i've been- fuck- good!"

"good? bending over and sucking off half the audience is good?"

"i- i didn't- i didn't!"

"you basically did. you think just anyone can touch you? is that what we're doing now? fucking whore. you'd do anything for attention wouldn't you?"

"n-no! o-only yours- shit- sana please- i'm not- i'm good-"

"good girls don't lie. what you are is a liar and a slut. maybe i should just give you what you want. i can bring you back out there, fuck you in front of the entire award show. then they'll know they can't touch you right?"

you pulse at the thought, you know she'd never actually do it, she was way too possessive to let anyone else see you bare and ruined for her, but the slim possibility, the very real irritation she was exuding had you picturing exactly the situation she described. and fuck she was right, she knew you too well. you'd love to be claimed in front of everyone, for the whole world to see just how good sana could make you feel.

she chuckles darkly, ripping her fingers out of you, "clenching around me at that? and you say you're good. fucking pathetic. suck."

it's not a command. she shoves her fingers into your open, panting mouth roughly, chin tilting up at the sight of you. your lips immediately close around her fingers and you suck your slick off her digits obediently, eyes lidded, dizzy from the taste of yourself and the way she was treating you.

sana's eyes roam over the expanse of skin while you suck on her fingers, her hands tracing over the lines of your body. you're perched across her lap, her hand palming your ass, pretty lilac collar around your neck attached to a dark purple leash she's rolling around loosely in her other hand.

“look at you, dripping onto me. was this all me?” the hand that’s at your ass dips down, her fingers coming to slide between your soaked lips, “or was it the guys that fawned over you tonight? attention whore.” she sends a slap to your pussy, the contact making you whine, squirming away but also desperately needing more.

“i don’t even see how that one guy you let touch your waist was so funny. you were laughing so prettily, head tilted back, almost like you were tempting him to just claim the empty space on your neck.” she tugs the leash, your body lurching forward, pussy meeting her knee, throat constricting, trying to prolong the pressure on your cunt before she slaps your ass, pulling your hips back so you’re weight is on your hands and knees again.

“you’re mine. everything is mine. your voice, this pretty ass, these tits, your pussy, it’s all mine to feel, mine to enjoy, mine to see.” she punctuates each phrase with the tug of a nipple or a slap against reddened skin. “no one else can make you feel this good anyway isn’t that right slut? and yet you still look for that attention. it’s like you want me to get mad. is that it? do you want my attention? do you want me to treat you like this? you want me to get all possessive and mean? turns you on huh? well i hate to break it to you sweetie but only good girls get to cum.”

you whine, daring to turn your head to look at her with a pleading look, begging for something, anything.

she scoffs, "is that your begging face? i saw you use the exact same one with those guys tonight."

your face morphs into shock, trying to backtrack, "n-no i didn't! i didn't i swear- you- you must have seen wrong-"

"you saying there's something wrong with my eyes?"

"no! no no not you, p-please please i'm sorry i- i'll be good please-"

she tuts again, moving you around so you're sitting on her lap, dripping cunt finally getting some friction against the skin of her thigh. you moan at the feeling, frantically humping down against her while she has you there.

"look at you- pathetic."

you whine, wrapping your hands around her neck and burying your face into her shoulder, whimpering and gasping with each thrust against her thigh, too embarrassed to look at her but too desperate to keep yourself still. you almost cry out when she tenses her thigh, the muscle rubbing along your clit in just the way you needed.

"s-sana i want to- can i- please- i wanna-"

"what? what does my little pup want?"

"cum! c-can i cum!?"

sana's quiet for a little, you're almost afraid you've done something wrong or she's no longer into it, but you're physical needs outweighed your saner mind, your one-track mind only concerned with feeling as good as she was making you feel.

so you continue rutting against her, chasing your high desperately while she bites her lip, watching your tits sway with each thrust, her own position compromised as she feels herself grow sticky and wet from the sight and sounds.

you push against her, more and more, whining and moaning right into her ear, knowing she loves to hear you, testing her patience, fluttering internally at the way her grip on your hips tighten with each second, nails digging into your skin just enough to give that perfect sting you adored.

“s-sana? c-can i?” you ask again, holding back the looming crash of your orgasm through tensed muscles.

her eyes snap up to yours and then she grips your hips even harder, forcing you to stop.

you cry, body automatically fighting against her, trying to reject her, but it knew who owned it. you succumbed within seconds, gasping into her shoulder, mourning the loss of what could've been.

"at least you're polite now." her voice is gruff, nails still digging into your skin.

you can’t respond, too exhausted and despaired to do anything but cry.

you don’t even notice her shuffling you around, your hips canting up into nothing whenever she even lingers near your cunt.

that is until you feel the cool silicone strap dragging through your folds, lubing itself up in your essence, catching at your clit, then dragging back down.

you clench around nothing, throwing your head back with an arm over your eyes.

sana tuts, pulling it away, “look at me when i fuck you pup. i’m gonna make sure you remember who owns you.” she thrusts inside, doesn’t give you a chance to think before pulling back out, “gonna make sure you remember who you come home to.” another thrust. “going to fuck you out so good you’ll never be able to take anyone else but me.”

and then she takes off.

she’s gripping your hands together on your lower stomach. that way, your arms push your chest in for her pleasured viewing as she fucks into you with rigor. it also stops you from leaving lines of red down her back while she groans at the sight of the light purple strap attached to herself, grinding against her own clit with each thrust, pulling out wetter than it was each time it goes inside you.

“f-fuck- sana- oh god- i’m- you’re so good fuck-“

“yeah? can anyone else make you feel this way? anyone else- you’d cum for?”

“n-no! only y-you sana fuck- please can i- please-!”

“hold on a little longer baby- let me- fuck god you look so fucking good-"

you whine, thighs shaking as she keeps plowing into you, her eyes locked on the way she pushes inside you every half second. you don't think you can hold on for much longer, she had to understand right? she had edged you three times now, and you were already soo worked up even before she got her hands on you. that wasn't really your fault, she just looked so good in her pretty dress tonight and you couldn't stop imagining her between your legs, eating you out under the dining table while the rest of the world applauded people that would never hold a light to your girlfriend.

"sana i'm gonna- i can't hold it any longer-"

"i told you to fucking wait- fuck- you want me to stop again? huh? leave you hanging all splayed out and desperate to cum?"

you shake your head desperately, holding onto her wrists, eyes clenching shut trying to ward off the looming orgasm.

"i'm almost there baby we'll cum together- c'mon- fuck- you look so good- only i get to see you like this- fuck-"

you nod, her words swimming around in your head, doing whatever you can to appease her, hips returning her thrusts in a frenzy, not even trying to match her pace, just fucked out dumb and reacting with pure physicality.

she leans down, finally, panting next to your ear, thrusts reaching deeper than ever, "alright baby. cum for me."

you cum on command, clenching tightly around her and scream as you come undone, head thrown back, body fluttering and shaking as she continues rutting into you albeit slower and softer. you dimly register her muttering small curses against your throat as you come down, hips stuttering to a slow stop, still buried deep inside you.

you wrap your arms around her tightly now that she's freed you, hugging your sweaty bodies close and reveling in the feeling of her weight on top of you.

you lay like that for a few minutes, breathing in her scent and catching your breath together.

eventually, she has to pull out and you groan lightly as she gently coaxes herself off of you, brushing your sweaty hair off your forehead and pecking you sweetly.

you make grabby hands at her when she’s standing and taking the harness off.

sana giggles, “just a minute baby. you know i wanna cuddle too but i have to clean this.”

you whine incomprehensibly, mumbling a small hurry as she walks towards your bathroom and starts rinsing the strap off.

she comes back far too late for your liking so you try and make up for it by curling around her immediately, climbing almost on top of her and sighing when she runs a hand through your hair in comfort.

“good?”

“you don’t even have to ask.” you mumble against her bare chest, eyes drooping.

she giggles again, you feel the movement in her throat, “wasn’t too much right?”

you shake your head, “you were perfect. like always. thank you. i love you.”

you feel the smile on her lips when she kisses your forehead, “don’t pull that shit in public again or i swear-“

“you’ll fuck it out of me?” you glance up at her with a lazy smile and lidded eyes.

she rolls her eyes, tightening her grip around you, “spoilt.”

“because you love me.”

“i do. even when you’re being a brat.”

“you love when i’m a brat. you love taking power anyway since everyone thinks you can’t top.”

“who thinks that?!”

you shrug, cuddling closer as she gawks at you, trying to get you to look at her. “jeongie says it’s because you have no muscle.” you poke at her bicep lovingly, laughing when she blanches and tries flexing immediately, “nayeonnie says you’re too much of a baby.”

“am not!”

“and momo just doesn’t see it.”

“wha-“

“and she’s known you for the longest soo-“

“okay first of all my muscle is growing back! second, nayeon just says that because she treats me like that and she’s never known otherwise! and momo- momo’s just saying shit because she wants to mess with me!”

you laugh, clasping your hands together and kissing the swell of her breast, “i know i know… i’m not complaining anyway.” you stretch and curl back around her like a cat, “i get all the benefits.”

sana puffs her chest and you adore her pride. “that’s right.”

you giggle, kissing her again and continue talking about nothing and everything, a non-negotiable for the both of you after any session, no matter how quick or small.

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

WHISPERED VOWS MASTERLIST here

Summary: You thought planning your wedding was going to be a magical memory. You didn't realize that it might make you second guess everything.

Pairing: Fiancée Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Hurt-Comfort

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Toxic Family Dynamics, Arguments, Sex Toys, Self Doubt, Over Thinking, Yoongi Overworking Himself, Reader Needs To Speak Up

SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUt

You stare at the screen of your computer and yawn. You haven't gotten a lot of sleep the past few nights. Yoongi has been gone again at night more frequently, opting to sleep in his studio in small spurts in between working. He tells you that he's so close to finishing the album, but you'll believe it when you see it. As of right now, you don't believe him at all. This has now been the third time he told you that. You have been keeping yourself busy trying to make the decision of what cake you want to try at your tasting next week. You get ten flavors to sample, and you are taking it very seriously. Your guest won't remember your vows after the wedding but they will remember if the cake was bad. Compared to everything else, this is the one thing you were looking forward to.

“What are feelings on fondant?” You ask Seungkwan. He looks up at you from across the room and makes a face. “Buttercream it is.”

“What does Yoongi want?” he asks.

“He doesn't care for cake, so he'll leave it up to me,” you tell him with a sigh. “Just like everything else. At least he is coming with me to sample them. So, I'll take it as a win.”

“You should talk to him about it,” he says, typing away on his computer. “If it's getting to be too much, you need to say something.”

“No, I took responsibility to plan everything. I can't go back on my word,” you tell him as you lean back and close your eyes. “I got your sister's email. The picture of the bouquet she sent is beautiful.”

“Oh, I'm glad,” he said with a small smile. “What did you go with?”

“Dark burgundy delilahs and white roses. Seriously, Seungkwan, thank you. I really appreciate it,” you say. “Anyway, I'm hungry. I'm going to hit the vending machine downstairs on the studio level. Did you want anything?”

“We have vending machines on our floor too,” Seungkwan tells you with a knowing look.

“I'm not up to anything. They have Oreos down there,” you say, defending yourself. “All we have are protein bars.”

“I guess I'll take a pack as well,” he relents.

Grabbing your card from your bag, you leave your office and take the elevator downstairs. You weren't lying….technically. The studio level does indeed have better snacks in the vending machine, but you can't help it if you have to walk by Yoongi's studio to get to it. Your chances of actually running into him were slim, but hey, you'll take the chance.

Leaving the elevator, you round the corner past Hobi's studio and then down past Yoongi's studio to get to the coveted snack machine. Sliding your card, you press the correct number for your cookies, the machine roars to life and pushes your cookies out. Bending down, you take them from the bottom of the machine and repeat. Only this time, the Oreos do not drop once you press the correct buttons. They get stuck between the coil holding them and the small black divider to its side.

“No,” you say into the empty hallway. You give the button another press and another, but still nothing happens. You gave the machine a big whack this time, but the only thing that you managed to do was hurt your hand. “Ouch!” You exclaim and shake your hand.

“Need help,” a voice says, startling you. You didn't even hear a door open.

Shit. Kai is smiling at you when you look to see who came to your rescue. He looks just as handsome as you remember, but this is not the best place to be seen with him. Not when you can look past him and see your fiancée's door. Fucking Orero's. They were too good to resist. You need to lay off the junk food. You should have gone with the protein bars.

“Um, sure. Thanks,” you say and back away from the vending machine.

Kai presses both his hands at the top of the vending machine and gently rocks it back and forth. It probably takes less than ten seconds before the sweet snack hits the bottom of the machine. He reaches down and retrieves them for you. Standing back up, he smiles and hands them to you.

“Thanks,” you say again, taking them from him and then proceed to take a few extra steps away from him.

“Y/N, right?” He asks you and leans on the machine he just manhandled. “Lisa's friend. We met at Jimin's party.”

“Yeah, that's me,” you say, standing there awkwardly in front of him. “I should…”

“You know it's a shame that our night was cut short at that party. I had a good time talking to you,” he comments, and you can hear the elevator ding. “Do you have any plans for Valentine's Day tonight?”

“No,” you say quietly. Is that today? You have completely forgotten.

“Is your boyfriend working tonight? He works here, right? Your boyfriend is a producer in the company? I think I have seen around….he glares a lot.”

“Fiancée and part owner actually,” Jimin says, walking up to the two of you. He slings his arm around his friend's shoulder. “I think Y/N needs to head back to work.” Jimin widens his eyes and jerks his head quickly. You stare at him strangely but decide to just go with it.

“Yeah, umm, very busy,” you say as Jimin still motions for you to go.

“Oh,” Kai said, looking amused. “So busy you had to have a cookie break? You don't seem that busy to me.”

“Yup, she just needs sugar every now and then, or she gets angry. I think she …realllyyy….needs to go. She should also…take the stairs. Now.” Jimin says.

Your eyes widen. You finally get it. Yoongi was probably on his way down. You turn quickly, running down the hall and heading for the door hiding the stairwell. You hear Kai say something to Jimin, but you were too busy running for your life to catch what it was. You make a sound of defeat when you open the door. Do you want to take four flights of stairs in heels? No. Do you want Yoongi to catch you with Kai? Absolutely not. You'll take the chance of busting your ass in your heels because it was better than the alternative.

Huffing and puffing, you make it back into your office and throw the cookies at Seungkwan, hitting him squarely in the chest. Who then made a disapproving sound when they hit him. You throw yourself in your chair and wipe your forehead with your hand. Man, you're out of shape.

“What happened?” he asks, opening the snack you got him and shoves one in his mouth.

“Kai happened,” you say and don't elaborate. You just hope that Yoongi doesn't find out.

Did anything interesting happen today?

It should have been an innocent text from Yoongi, but you knew better. He knew that you must have talked to Kai earlier, but you don't know who told him. Would Jimin go through all that trouble to help you and then rat you out? Probably. Not that there was anything to tell because you did nothing wrong. You bite your lip and think about how you want to answer this. You weigh your options. You can be brat about this, or you can fess up and be honest. Your fingers tap the side of your phone in thought. This is the fifth night in a row that he wouldn't be home, and your eyes drift to that red trunk that has yet to be discovered in your closet. You chose brat.

I got me and Seungkwan Oreos. You responded by typing back.

That all?

Yup, I wanted to save my energy for tonight. You write back.

Getting out of bed, you go to your closet and drop to your knees in front of that red chest. You take off the blanket and hoodies that you threw on top of it, placing everything to the side. You're going to take Lisa's advice and send Yoongi a quick picture. Of what exactly….you're not quite sure yet. Opening the lid, your face still burns with embarrassment, looking at everything that Lisa bought for you. You don’t even know where to start.

What's tonight? he types back.

You reach inside and grab what you think she called a personal massager. A deep purple device was one of the more innocent looking items in the box. Your eyes next land on the leather handcuffs, and you quickly snatch them as well before you could talk yourself out of it. Taking a breath, you put everything back before walking back over to the bed. Chucking your shirt off over your head, leaving your top half completely exposed. You lie down on your stomach, moving the toy close to your body and squish your boobs together between your arms. Positioning your device in what you hope is just the right angle to make you look enticing you snap a picture using the timer. You look at the result, and you are actually kind of impressed. Not bad.

Solo play, you answer with the accompanied picture and hit send.

Your palms become sweaty, your hands shake, and your eyes become large as you stare at your phone screen. What did you do? Oh, no! What did you do? Can you unsend a text? Please, you just want to take it back. Your hands start to flail around in the air by your head in panic. Your heart stops as the message goes from delivered to read.

“Oh shit,” you whisper to yourself and grab your shirt to cover yourself.

You watch as the dreaded dots appear on the screen, showing that he was responding. Your mouth goes dry, and suddenly, they disappear, but nothing comes through. You wait and wait, but again, nothing comes through. He's not going to respond. You don't know if you should be relieved or embarrassed that he probably didn't like it. Maybe Lisa doesn't know what she is talking about after all. You thought maybe you could salvage Valentines, but now you feel just plain stupid and a little unwanted. It kind of hurt. Tossing your phone on the bed, you lazily roll yourself off the bed and head for the bathroom to shower. Maybe you can wash away your idioticness.

When you open the bathroom door after your shower, the steam rolls out behind you. You tighten the towel that is wrapped around your freshly cleaned body as you head back to the bedroom. Stepping over the threshold into said room, you freeze. Yoongi is sitting on the edge of the bed. In his hands was that deep purple toy. His eyes look up at you through the strands of hair that have fallen over his forehead and into his eyes. Your pulse quickens. You guess Lisa does, in fact, know what she is talking about. You watch him reach over and grab the discarded cuffs. He dangles them off one of his slim fingers and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Solo play, huh?” he asks, resting both his elbows on his knees.

“I didn't think that you would come,” you tell him, holding your towel tighter like it was going to hide you somehow. Hide away the embarrassment of your actions.

Yoongi stands up from the bed after he discards the gifts on the bed and approaches you slowly. Once he reaches you, he slides his hand down your bare arm. The excess water in your hair starts to drip down your exposed skin, sending a chill through you. You noticeably shiver, and Yoongi pulls you closer to him. Bending his head, he captures your lips with his own, giving you a soft, teasing kiss.

“Do you still want it to be solo, or can I join?” he whispers against your lips.

You slip your hands to the hem of his shirt and pull up. Yoongi lifts his arms, helping you bring it over his head and taking it off the rest of the way by himself. Pulling his head down to you, you press your mouth against his. Yoongi moves his hands to your wet tangled hair, gripping your head tightly, keeping you where you were.

“Were you thinking of me?” he asks, pulling away slightly and pressing his forehead against yours.

“Yoongi,” you whimper and try to look away, but the hold on your head doesn't let you.

“What? You can't send me pictures like that and be embarrassed, baby,” he tells you as he kisses a path from your cheek to your neck. “You don't think that I haven't touched myself thinking about you? Hmmm, because I have…and I do.”

Something in you snaps, and you grab him, kissing him hard as you think about him alone in his studio, stroking himself. He groans into your mouth, holding you close against his body. You place your hands on his chest and back him up to the bed. The both of you falling onto it once the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, mouths still connected. Pulling away, you crawl off of him and move to the center of the bed. Yoongi twists around trying to grab for you, but you stay out of his reach, and you make him follow you up the bed.

You gently push him back against the pillows when he reaches out for you again, and you climb onto his lap. Leaning down, you press your mouth to his again. His hands travel to the top of your twisted towel, and he gently pulls it apart, giving him the treat of your naked body with small water droplets now dripping down onto the both of you. He relaxes underneath you and takes in every inch of you as his hands run up over the top of your thighs and land on your hips.

You reach over and grab the black leather cuffs that are laid beside you. You toy with them and undo the velcro with a loud shkriiiiip. He smirks at you and wets his lips with his tongue. One hand goes to your face. lovingly strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“You want me to cuff you to the bed, baby?” he questions, his voice deep with desire. You smile shyly back at him and shake your head. His eyes narrow at you for a moment before laughing silently. Yoongi places his hands above his head, resting them on the pillow and raises an eyebrow at you. He's daring you to do it. “It's okay.”

You lean over him and wrap his wrist in the leather before hooking the other side through the dark wooden slats of the headboard. Repeating the same treatment to the other wrist, he willing lies there at your mercy. You want to keep here so he can't leave you for days, almost weeks at a time like he always does. God, you miss him, and you don't know how much longer you can last like this. The loneliness at night has almost become unbearable. The silence was almost too loud.

Taking his mouth with yours again, your tongues dance together naturally as your mouths open for one another. He groans in your mouth as you ground your hips onto his pelvis. Your lips pull away with a smack, and you slither your way down his body as you maintain eye contact with him. You can see that his breathing has picked up by the way his chest moves up and down. If that wasn't a sure sign of him liking this, the straining in his sweatpants definitely did.

Settling yourself on the bed between his legs, you run your hand over his clothed erection. Yoongi bucks his hips up into your touch and lets out a harsh, shuddering breath. Reaching for the top of his sweats, you curl your fingers around the fabric and pull them over his hips. You stop in surprise when you realize that he didn't have anyone underneath. Your eyes meet his, and he smirks and gives a slight shrug as best as he can, given his current position.

Pulling them the rest of the way off, you grab his hardness and bring your mouth down to him. Giving his tip one small lick, you pull away. You sit back on your heels and stare at him with an innocent smile before crawling back up his body. You rest your weight on your hands as you hover your face over his.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” you say quietly, and his eyes widen in recognition.

“I'm sorry,” he says quickly, but you shut him up with a kiss.

“I forgot too, until….Kai reminded me,” you tell him with a knowing look, and he narrows his eyes.

“I bet he fucking did,” he growls.”He was so fucking smug talking to Jimin about you.”

“Oh,” you say and drop your hips onto his hardness that was lying against his flat stomach. You languidly move your wet core back and forth along it. Letting the motion stimulate your clit.

“Yeah,” he answered breathlessly as his eyes rolled back slightly. “Fuck, keep going.”

“Nothing happened,” you tell him as you lift your hips off of him, denying him your touch. “I barely even said two words to him.”

“I trust you,” he says, taking a deep breath

“Do you?” You ask him seriously.

“With my whole heart,” he says, lifting his head for a kiss. You lean down and press your mouth to his once again before moving your kiss to his neck. Yoongi's head falls back onto the pillow. “Baby, can we talk about this later. My cock is so hard it hurts.”

Sitting up you reach between your legs, you grab his cock and run the head along your folds, coating him with your natural slickness before slowly sinking onto him. Yoongi pushes his tongue against the side of cheek as he watches you take all of him with rapt attention. You lean forward with your hands on his chest and press your forehead against his as you start to slowly move up and down on him. You close your eyes and savor the feeling of him inside of you as you take your time. The feeling of fullness replacing the ache of emptiness and loneliness that has plagued you for months now. The hot flame within you that has dulled finally roared back to life.

Yoongi plants his feet flat on the bed and thrusts his hips up against you. His hard dick spears you over and over again as you fall forward from the force of his hips hitting you and bury your face into his neck. You let out a strangled moan as he takes control.

“Undo me, Y/N,” his raspy voice commands. “I need to get my mouth on you.”

You reach up blindly and pull the velcro off one of the cuffs. With his wrist successfully freed, he hurriedly grabs the opposite side and undos it himself. Sitting up, he throws them to the floor and gently guides you off him. He grabs your waist and turns you so you can lie down in his previously occupied spot before he grabs your knees, spreading you open for him.

Lying on his stomach, Yoongi presses a kiss to your throbbing clit. His fingers run up and down your opening gathering your wetness before sinking them into you. You sigh and wiggle your hips in response. Sticking his tongue out he traces small circles around you as his fingers start a slow rhythm pumping into you.

“Do you want me to use that?” he asks, jerking his head to the deep purple toy.

“NO!” You exclaim and cover your face.

Yoongi moves up up your body, hovering over you as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you. He crooks them at the perfect angle that has you gasping and grabbing at his shoulders. Yoongi leans down and kisses your cheek before pushing his fingers deeper inside of you. You press your head further into the pillow underneath you with a whimper.

“Let me use it. Please?” he asked, tongue licking a wet stripe underneath your jaw. You bite your lip as he shoves his fingers into you at a rapid pace that is just as deep.

“Fuck,” you gasp out. “Okay, okay. Use it.”

Yoongi pulls his fingers out of you quickly and grabs onto the massager. His hand fumbles with it for a second before he finds the button to turn it on. The low hum of the messenger and the dark look in his eyes make your mouth go dry. Placing his lips on yours, he trails the deep purple toy down between your breast over your stomach before reaching his final destination. A whine escapes your lips as the vibration hits your sensitive spot.

“Shhh,” he says softly. “I got you. Stop me if it's too much.”

Yoongi moves down the bed, resting on his knees before sinking his fingers back into you. Holding the toy against you, his fingers start pumping into you at a furious pace. Tapping that innermost spongy spot repeatedly has your wetness dripping out of you with every push and pull of his fingers. Your hands reach up and grab on to the wooden slats of the headboard and squeeze tightly. Your hips start to gyrate, and your breathing picks up, making your chest heave up and down.

“God, I miss seeing you like this,” Yoongi growls at you.

“I….I….,” you struggle with words as your hips jump. Your inner walls rhythmically pulse around his fingers, slicking them even more. “STOP!” You manage to sob out. He throws the toy down on the bed in an instant and looks at you with wide eyes. “You���I….I want you.”

“I'm here,” he said, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I am right here. Are you sure you want more?”

“Please, I need it,” you whimper.

Yoongi lines himself up to your entrance and plunges himself all the way. Your back arches as you bring your arm around his shoulders and pull him down to you. Your chests press together, his face buried in your neck, legs wrapped around his waist as his hips thump repeatedly against your own wildly. You feel delirious as his lips attach to your neck sucking hard enough to mark you. You sink your hand into his hair, tugging him off your neck.

“Got to show him your mine, baby. He acts like he can have you. Can he have you? ” he growls in your ear, and you shake your head, unable to speak. His hips pick up in tempo as the headboard starts to rhythmically bang against the wall loudly. “I'm not going to last much longer,” he pants. “You are going to come again. Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” you pant.

Reaching out, he grabs the discarded toy. Turning it back on, he sneaks it between your bodies to touch it to your clit. You both moan loudly as it makes contact as the vibrations rush through both of you. You feel yourself clench around his hardened length as you cry out, your wetness coating his length. Yoongi hums deeply in satisfaction at the feeling of your pulsating core that surrounds him. His own hips stutter and lose rhythm, toy falling out of his hand as you slap it away when it becomes too much. Slamming his mouth against yours, his hips give you one more hard thrust before he stiffens and comes deep inside of you.

Yoongi drops his head onto your shoulder, panting. You slowly graze your nails up and down his back as you stare up at the ceiling. You can feel his lips lightly connect with the front of your shoulder in what you think is a loving gesture. A tear falls out of the corner of your eye, and you quickly wipe it away. The roaring fire within you minutes ago has gone back to that dull flame. It's a flame that barely flickers and fights to stay lit. You're scared.

Fuck.

Tagged Readers

@mggv97, @granataepfelchen, @kam9404, @svnbangtansworld, @futuristicenemychaos, @notarshia

[livi-in-digital-circus]

The Abuse || a short Bunnydoll angsty story

I wrote this only because I'm having worse days now (also I started writing the new fic but I'm already stuck at the beginning of TwT)

TW: abuse

Through the glass wall of the infirmary, Ragatha stared at the guests of the Digital Circus. Once in a while, people from the real world had the chance to meet their favorite characters in person, not knowing that they were actually normal humans just like them. It was unfair that they could go home the moment their visit ended. But that was what the circus was all about. Every single member of the crew was an animal trapped in a cage, released only to perform silly and often dangerous acts.

And since Caine was especially busy when they had visitors, Ragatha couldn’t ask him to help her get back to her pristine self. Instead, she had to spend the entire day under the care of a nurse-like NPC who stuffed her with more pills, like painkillers, hour after hour. Even though the rag doll didn’t seem to have any bones in her plush body, she felt like her bruised arm was broken. Not to mention that she had vomited at least three times that day and felt dizzy all the time.

It was a pure torture.

The girls in the main area were loud enough for Ragatha to hear what they were saying, so she leaned carefully against the wall. Due to her current state, she wasn’t allowed to greet the visitors. After all, Caine had to keep the reputation of the circus at its best, and if anyone found out there was a serious case of abuse going on behind the scenes, he would lose everything he had worked on for years.

“Did you see the way he looked at me? I’m definitely his type!” One of the girls exclaimed. Her digital avatar resembled a cute Lolita-style doll, making her look like an innocent angel. Another one, Ragatha thought.

“It’s a good thing we didn’t mention our shrines full of his limited merch.” The other said, her cat ears and tail moving on their own from time to time. “But then again, who wouldn’t want lots of Jax for themselves?”

Ragatha trembled. These two clearly had no idea who they were talking about. Judging by their behavior and appearance, they were mostly underage and delusional. The rag doll looked at her arm again. She should be jealous, it was her boyfriend who was the center of attention that day.

Instead, she felt anger, especially when she heard the girls mention all the things they wanted Jax to do to them. Ragatha smiled bitterly to herself, the familiar metallic taste tickling her tongue. She had lived too long in the circus to understand today’s teenagers. Some of them were born into rich families and had everything they could wish for. It could be anything, like an expensive dress worn by many famous models, or a bottle of sweet-smelling limited edition perfume. And yet they chose to be used by none other than Jax.

Little do they know that he is a real abuser.

And abuse is not something you should wish for.

Year after year, the rabbit became more mentally unstable. Several times he promised Ragatha that he would change, that he would try to be a better boyfriend. She was very proud of Jax when he managed to go a whole week without hurting her. But when she was about to visit him in his room after one of their adventures to watch a movie, she found him torturing the little version of herself that she had made for him to hug when he felt alone.

Caine had no idea how to fix Jax. His first assumption was that he would soon abstract, but Ragatha quickly shook her head. That had been going on for a long time, with no clear signs of improvement. However, she didn’t feel any hatred for Jax, even though she was sore and bruised the last few days. She knew it was because of his poor mental health and that inside he was still the bunny she had fallen in love with.

The girls disappeared from her view after a while. Ragatha groaned as she made her way back to bed. All she wanted was to fall asleep and wake up the next day. The moment her head touched the pillow, she heard someone enter the infirmary.

“Feeling better?” Jax sat on the edge of the bed, his gloved hand gently stroking the bandage on the rag doll’s cheek. Ragatha shivered, yet her lover’s soothing touch was all she needed at the moment.

“Still a little sore, but it’s okay. Did you enjoy the meeting with the viewers?”

“Not really, this group was annoying as hell.”

“I don’t like what those girls said about you.” Though Ragatha didn’t want to tell him exactly what. She knew Jax felt bad after each time he lost control and hurt her, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable now that he was temporarily sane again.

Jax let out a soft laugh and pressed his lips to Ragatha’s forehead. God, she loved his kisses so much.

“I actually brought you something to drink. You must be thirsty after I… you know.”

Ragatha gladly accepted the water bottle and began to pour the liquid into her mouth. But just as she was about to stop, she felt Jax’s hands suddenly tighten around her neck, causing her to cough and choke. The taste of water and blood mixed sickeningly in her mouth.

Jax knew it was only a matter of time before she started vomiting all over the circus from the ‘water’ he gave her.

Everyone told Ragatha to break up with Jax, but she was too kindhearted to do that. He was mentally ill and she wanted to help him. She hoped that one day everything would be okay, that her boyfriend would overcome this.

And before that happens, she would be tortured in many more different ways for the next few weeks, months, or maybe even years.

Still, Ragatha would manage to survive all this. It was impossible to die in Digital Circus after all.

Thanks for reading!

(I'm sorry, please don't be mad at me for writing this ;-;)

[hologramcowboy]

Types of fans you should never be if you ever want to date a celebrity

So, you’ve got your sights set on a celebrity. Maybe it's their stunning cheekbones, their charm, or the way they casually wear a leather jacket like it’s no big deal. But let’s get one thing straight—if you want a shot at turning that celeb crush into a love story, there are a few *major* fan mistakes you’re going to need to avoid. In fact, if you ever plan on dating a celebrity (or even just having a conversation with them without getting blocked), don’t be *that* fan. Here's a breakdown of the types of fans that *never* get a first date—let alone a second one.

1.The Stalker: "Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop"

We get it. Celebrities are like mythical creatures. They post something, and suddenly, your thumb is on autopilot, refreshing their Instagram like you’re hunting for treasure. But here's the thing: stalker behavior? *Very* much not cute. We’re talking about following them around town, sending them 70 DMs a day, and, oh yeah, Googling where they live because you’re "just trying to be close to them." No. Just no. Celebs are human, and they can *feel* that vibe. If you think it’s love you’re after, it’s more likely to land you in their "block" list. The good news? You have the power to stop being creepy. *So stop being creepy.*

2. The Horny Fan: "It’s All About the Body"

We all know that one friend who talks about sex *way* too much. While that might fly in some circles, it doesn’t when it comes to dating a celebrity. If your only thoughts about your celebrity crush revolve around their abs or how hot they look in that one music video, you’re probably not going to end up with them. Here's the reality check: a person is more than just a walking fantasy. Celebs are looking for genuine connections, not someone who can’t see beyond their six-pack. If you treat them like a piece of eye candy, you’ll find that the only thing you’ll be connecting with is a cardboard cutout, yes, the one you keep in your room. lol So, maybe start thinking of them as a real person, and not just a human Pinterest board.

3. The Shallow Fan: "All Looks, No Substance"

Objectifying people might be a pastime for some, but if you're hoping to date a celeb, it’s an absolute deal-breaker. Celebrities aren’t just there to look good on your social media feed—they’re talented, hard-working individuals with interests, opinions, and personalities that go beyond their Instagram aesthetic. If you’re only interested in their looks, it’s like showing up to a dinner party and only talking about the wallpaper. Newsflash: it’s not a turn-on. Celebrities (just like anyone) crave real, authentic connections. So next time you tweet about how "hot" they look in a photoshoot, maybe try throwing in a compliment about their *actual* talents. It might just make them see you as more than just a shallow fan with questionable taste in hashtags.

4. The Kiss Ass: "I’m Your Biggest Fan (And I Have a T-shirt to Prove It)"

We’ve all seen them. The ones who are *too* enthusiastic about everything their celeb crush does—like, buying merchandise that features their celebrity's partner’s face, just to show how “down” they are. But guess what? Celebrities are *not* dumb. They can tell when someone is being disingenuous. If you think wearing a T-shirt with their dog’s face on it will make them fall head over heels for you, you’re sorely mistaken. It just screams desperation. Celebrities want authenticity, not the world’s most bizarre fan merch collection. Take a step back, be yourself, and stop pretending to be their #1 fan—because you’re definitely not fooling them.

5. The ‘Just Trying Too Hard’ Fan: "I’m So Unique, Look at Me!"

This is the fan who thinks that showing up at a celebrity’s event dressed in an absurd costume, or dropping *way* too many "accidental" Instagram comments, will somehow win them over. It's like you’re auditioning for the role of "Most Extra Fan" in their life. Guess what? Celebs don't need another *performance*. They need a person who can hold a real conversation and not just be an accessory to their brand. So, if you’re trying to get noticed by being *super* out-there with your fashion choices or social media stunts, remember: it's not about how loud you scream—it’s about how genuine you are when you talk.  

---

How to Actually Date a Celebrity (Or at Least Not Get Blocked):  

Now, let’s get real for a second. If you’re serious about dating a celebrity, here are some **actual tips** to increase your chances of not coming off like an absolute psycho. Ready?  

1. Be Yourself (Unless You're a Stalker):Celebrities want to meet real people, not another fake persona trying to get in their good graces. So, put down that "I Heart [insert celeb's name]" T-shirt and be authentic. Be funny, be kind, and be *you*—not some over-caffeinated fan trying to impress them with your knowledge of their ex.  

2. Find Common Ground: Celebs have lives and interests that go beyond their career. If you're looking for love, start by finding something you genuinely have in common. Maybe they like the same obscure band you do, or they have a pet you could bond over. Get beyond the surface level, and actually get to know them as a person.  

3. Stop Making It Weird: Just because you’re a fan doesn't mean you need to talk about their every move. Keep your cool, and don’t bombard them with compliments or weird questions about their personal life.  

4. Be Patient: Celebrities have busy lives, and even if you do meet one, don’t expect them to fall for you just because you made them laugh once. Patience is key. 

5. Respect Their Boundaries: Celebs are people. That means if they want to keep things private or take a step back, respect that. If they’re not into you, don’t keep chasing them—let them be.

Follow these tips, and who knows? You might just go from a fan to a date. But, remember: don’t go all-in on the "fan" part of the relationship, because, spoiler alert: that’s not what they're looking for.  

Now go forth, not as a creepy, obsessive fan, but as someone worthy of a celeb’s attention (and maybe even their phone number). Good luck out there!

Love,

Hologram Cowboy

[kimtranssexler]

I will literally eat mayonnaise by the spoonful but putting it on hot dogs is an actual crime

[icewindandboringhorror]

boy in silly sitting positions compilation

[spacespore]

HI TUMBLRR it’s me

[fingertipsmp3]

Why must dieting be absolutely fucking miserable

[here-there-were-dragons]

as a general rule, on average, if americans consistently complain about a food being conceptually weird, gross, and scary, then it probably tastes amazing. or at least inoffensive.

this is because in my experience americans for the most part (give or take a few exceptions by region) think eating literally anything other than beef, chicken, bread, eggs, peanut butter jelly sandwitches, ketchup, and disgusting cloyingly artificial brown sludge soda is insurmountably weird, gross, and scary.

[lesbiansanemi]

I don’t often think I’m upset at not having a good relationship with my parents but sometimes it really fucking hits me that I don’t have a good mom I don’t have a dad I’ll never experience having a good parent and someone I can lean on like that and I get… really upset

[keeps-ache]

standing here in my star-patterned bathrobe holding a stylus while inscribing something onto my computer. it's wizard time baby

[gayabeilles]

trying to make a roux with gluten free flour and I got scared when I saw black flecks bc I thought I’d burned it but no.

worse.

I melted the goddamn whisk.

[capaldiera]

it's soooooo embarrassing that my mum knows i like twelveclara. and she was in the room for last christmas which is embarrassingly close to being explicitly romantic. keep that shit more unsaid please

[nikkento-writes]

Babysitter - Part 1

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink

Summary: You're hired to babysit little Megumi for the summer, but you end up taking care of his father, Toji, as well.

Author’s Notes: This is repost from my old blog! I initially got this as a request and it became my first Toji fic ever, and certainly not my last lol. I'm posting this again because I actually wrote a Part 2, check it out! Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.

It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 

Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?” 

You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”

He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”

Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”

You smile at her. “It’s okay.”

She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”

He scratches his head. “Huh?”

“Megumi. Our child.”

He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.” 

While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”

She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”

She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”

“Sure.”

“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”

“Huh?!” 

She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”

You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…

~~~

The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy. 

Toji, on the other hand, is another story. 

You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you. 

But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?

On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas. 

When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”

“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby. 

He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”

“Yes, of course. Sir.”

For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”

You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence. 

Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”

You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”

He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”

You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”

“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”

~~~

This is bad. Very, very bad. 

You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.

“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.

“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”

You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”

His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time. 

After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with. 

He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho. 

“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.” 

And apparently, so are you. 

“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”

He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.

Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job. 

~~~

You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working. 

The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.” 

“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen. 

“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”

As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking. 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for sabotaging my boyfriend's hookup with his girlfriend by filling his sex playlist with DJ Crazytimes

I (28NB, they/he) have known my boyfriend (call him C, 29M, he/him) for some 15ish years now. As long as I've known him, he has been on and off again with his girlfriend (call him T, 29NB, he/him). Respectfully, and with love, C and T are two of the worst and most annoying people I know. I want to marry them both specifically so that I can study them under a microscope like a parasitic virus.

Technically they're monogamous, but they're both hooking up with other people (myself included), usually the same people, because they have the same taste in lovers (bad). I have suggested that they give actual polyamory a try, and they reject the idea wholeheartedly. I think they get off on their dynamic, and far be it from me to try more than the bare minimum to dissuade them from it.

A couple months back, they got into a fight and broke up (again) because T (who was unemployed at the time) stole $50 from C (who works at GameStop) so that he could pay for a tank of gas (using C's car) to go hook up with another guy a couple states over. C was not upset that T was hooking up with another guy (because he was Also hooking up with that guy and knew he would not have a leg to stand on), but because of the stolen money + car.

C and I currently live together, because you can't afford an apartment on a GameStop salary, and also, like I said, he's my boyfriend. I'm making carnitas tacos next Friday, and T is coming over, because despite everything, he has nothing else to do on a Friday night. I know that C and T are going to get into a huge fight, and I know that it's probably either going to end with them getting back together out of spite or with someone's vehicle getting keyed--I'm betting on both.

Here's where I think I might be the asshole. I would really like to get inbetween them. Not in a "I don't want you to date each other" kind of way, but in a "holy shit you are both so insufferable i would like to get in on that" kind of way. I currently have my thing with C, and I've hooked up with T once in the past, but I would really like to make it official with him as well.

My plan is as follows: C and T are going to be in the same space again next Friday. They're going to fight, then hook up, then get back together again. C is one of those cybersexual "i built my own computer and run it on Linux" people, which is to say, he thinks tiktok and youtube are evil, and he he thinks spotify premium is supporting megacorporations. So, his sex playlist for T (we do not have our own sex playlist) is just an actual folder of mp3 files.

While C is at work, I'm going to log into his computer and change several of those mp3 files to DJ Crazytimes' Planet of the Bass, which I play often, and he is frequently annoyed by. My hope is that he'll realize it was me, he'll come and yell at me for ruining their hookup, T will take my side to piss him off, and the tension will get to the point where they let me join their hookup, and I can ask to date both of them after that.

To be clear, I recognize that I'm also Incredibly Toxic for enabling and encouraging this behavior. That said, I feel like I'm justified in this scenario considering C and T are both Also toxic, and furthermore, it is a known fact that I'm dating C right now, so for them to hook up, C would technically be cheating on me. I asked C's sister (a childhood friend of mine) for her take on whether it would be funny or just annoying, and she just told me that we all deserve each other, so I think I should be good. Am I being uniquely shitty here?

What are these acronyms?