#the fucking chokehold this man has me in is insane

[enchante-em]

drew starkey, i am BEGGING you to please reject me so i can MOVE ON with my life

[ribbittrobbit]

[boy-armageddon]

YES my username on yt is a blood bros reference :33 i need to go to crimes world again i know in my heart and soul that i love her but i seldom show her attention .. i need to care her more ..

HOOFRAY!!!! also pretty please do!!!!!!! for me!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[sapsolais]

-

[hoshigray]

꯳⃘꤫⃛✿ contents: Gojo x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! gym friends - oral (f! + m! receving) - clitoral play (licking + sucking) - boobjob - prone bone position - unprotected sex - creampies - pet names (angel, baby, princess, sweetie) - gojo is a perv, ngl - pussywhipped + whiny! gojo - mention of sweat and drool/spit.

Been going to the gym lately and can’t stop thinking about gym friend! Gojo, who indisputably has a massive crush on you. 

Why else would he drag you in to do something that he loves to do? To share the same interests as his POI? To see you all the time? His reasons could be endless; however, those exact reasons seem to be doing more harm than good as his eyes can’t stop watching your body move on the elliptical, the sweat on your body shimmering on your gorgeous skin, or the positions you do as you stretch. All it does is add more fuel to the erotic thoughts that gnaw his heart out the more his azure orbs gawk at you. 

“Ahaahhn!! S-Satoru, don’t lick so fa—Mmm!—Fffuuuhuuck!!”

Or stir up more guilty fantasies for his perverted brain to think about.

On his life, Gojo wishes he’d snatch you off your feet and take you to the locker rooms to devour you utterly. If he has to look at your ass shielded under those leggings one more time, he will rip them off the seams and stuff his face into your panties. And he knows you’d make the cutest sounds as he does so, shrilling up above with hands grabbing tuffs of his silver snow hair while his teeth tug your panties to the side and latch your folds to his mouth. 

You looked way too good not to do so! He would have you hunched on the locker room bench, your knees to your chest, while his tongue ravishes your labia and eats you out. Jesus, your taste is intoxicating enough for his head to pound, spiraling the muscle to every cranny of the orifice to drink your fluids. “Holy fuck, so good…”

“‘Toruuu, waait!!” You plead with teary eyes, unsuccessful attempts to escape the tall man’s hold. “You’re going too fassst. Please…! Slow do—Oohoo!”

“No can do, baby~,” he’d lift his face and reveal his chin, just drenched with your essence mixed with his spit, before placing his tongue back to lap around your clitoris. “You said you’d cum for me three times, remember? Can’t just stop with one!”

“Bu-But…! I cannn’t, I’m too sweaty—“ you hasped aloud at the suck of your clit, Gojo letting his tongue run wild by licking and pressing on the pearl feverishly before sucking it in again. “—Tahaaa…!! Stop, stop! Let me shower firsst!!”

“C’mon, angel,” he kisses your vulva idly, enjoying the shudder of your thighs. “We can shower plenty together right after this, ‘kay? So, just keep cumming on my tongue for me, yeah?”

It doesn’t stop there. Because what’s hidden under your pants isn’t the only thing that drives him crazy — your cleavage peaking from your sports bras will always have him in a chokehold, the sweat shimmering across your attractive skin…All it needs is for his cock to be stuffed inside.

Oh fuck, it’s insane to even think about! Those lovely tits of yours giving his aching cock the time of its life has shivers crawling up his spine. That’s a sight that he’d store in his memory forever, watching his dick be swallowed up by the understrap of your bra and into the warmth of your chest. Fuck—he can’t think of anything better!

“Gosh, Satoru,” you’d look at him with a hooded gaze and smile while your hands press on your breasts to push together and trap his erection. The plush sensation makes Gojo’s hips buck, and you giggle. “What am I going to do with you? I can’t even work out in peace without you eyeing up my tits. Hmm, what do you have to say about that?”

“Hahhh…ahaaa, shit, I can’t—“ Gojo bites his lip at the display of your chest motioning up and down, his cock gliding in between your soft mounds making his eye twitch.

“Oh? Do you like watching my tits?” You inquire with a playful glint in your eyes, blowing on the pink tip to make the man moan. Precum trickles down your chest and joins the excess fluid that pools down to your bra and his sticky pelvis. “Does my pervert friend like my tits so much he wants to stuff his dick inside and make them dirty like him?”

“Fucking shit, yesss,” he throws his head back, his thighs trembling. “Yes, I love those cute tits like crazy.”

“Really?” You bat your eyes — holy hell, you were too much for him. “Would you like to cum on them again? Tell me, tell your gym partner how much you wanna stain these precious boobs you love so much.” You tease the cockhead with a flick of your tongue, nearly having Gojo bite on his. 

“Oh, my God, sweetie, please!” His blue eyes sparkle with a misty wanton, drunk on this sensation between his legs. “I can’t think right now…Lemme fuck your tits like crazy!”

You smirk with no words, sticking your tongue out to drizzle your warm saliva on his tip, the poor partner choking on the air before you suck his entire tip into your mouth. Greeting his sensitive glans with your tongue, your chest continues to squeeze and stroke his shaft to have him a whining mess. Shaky hands find your shoulders, but it doesn’t stop your rhythm that can easily have him melt to the floor. And if that doesn’t do it, then your tongue flicking and teasing his urethra sure will—shocks travel across his body as you suck harshly for his precum, and his head is too mushy to stop his peak from crumbling down.

He surprises you with a burst of his semen, screaming with a gleeful smile as his white substance protrudes out and paints your chin and your messy chest. You lift a bit to have him come into your bra, seeing his come create a damp and sticky spot as your nipple rubs on him. “You’re so bad, Satoru~,” you titter. “So naughty and dirty.”

That’s precisely what he feels: bad and dirty for thinking of you like this…and worse, he keeps going.

“Ohhh!! ’T-Toruuu, yer going so faast! Nooohh!!

If Gojo is likely to lose his mind at your chest, it’s entirely plausible that he’d go wild at the snug feeling of your vaginal walls clamping around his dick. Oh, he can just picture it: your legs locked between his as he pummels his cock into your bare cunt, your hands tied to your back with a headband, and your firm hands placed on your shoulders as he drills himself to churn your insides. 

Nothing can keep him at bay; his hips going buck-wild, slamming his pelvis down to your ass to make the flesh jiggle, moaning aloud at the sensation of you squeezing him whenever the tip grazes your sweet spots accurately, and thinking about nothing more than stuffing you full of his load. Fuck, you’d look so pretty, all fucked out and coated in his cum, filling it to the brim nonstop until his limb goes limp. Now that’s a workout he’ll get behind til the end of his days!

“Satoruuu!” You cry out his name, drooling escaping your pretty lips as you writhe. “It’s shoo muuuch, ‘oo muuuch!!”

His eyes roll to his skull from how much you are clenching around him, grinding his hips down to your ass to rub on your G-spot to the point of unintelligible babbles. Tighter, tighter! “Ahhhh, shiiit, baby, you feel so good,” he hiccups with abrupt ruts to your chasm. “So fucking…good!”

“Nnnmm, mmph!” Your eyes are sewn shut as the pleasure becomes overwhelming to bear, Gojo’s curved dick making it easier to scratch your vaginal walls to a euphoric itch. A poke to your cervix causes a sharp gasp and eyes to widen again. “—Gahaaa, wa-wait, Satoru, stop! If you keep—Mmmph!”

“Ahaah, there it is,” he draws his length outward before shoving it back inside to hit your womb once more. You yelp and tighten around him again. “Your little weak spot is right here, huh?” More gnashes to your ass cause frequent jabs to your womb, your lower half jerking to every single one.

“Ohhh fuuck, I’m gonna cummm…!!”

“Yeah, I can feel it,” Gojo licks his lips before kissing your nape. “But not yet, right? You said you’d help me with my endurance training, so hold on a little longer, okay, my princess?”

Before you could retort, his hips began to jackhammer into your cunt at an irregular pace, your screams only fueling him to pound you even more. “OhhhhGod, Satoru, go slooow…’Toru, please!!”

SNAP, SNAP!!

“Hey, Satoru, you okay? You’re daydreaming again.”

With the snap of your fingers, Gojo is brought back to reality, realizing he’s been adrift with his thoughts yet again as he sits aimlessly on the adjustable bench. “Ah, sorry, what were you saying?”

“I said, let’s get outta here; I’ll treat you to some burgers.” You beam before turning on your heel. “Now, hurry up; the place is closing soon!”

The white-haired man watches you go, eyes lingering on your finger and thanking the stars you hadn’t noticed the pink of his cheeks and ears flourishing. Nor the white towel that he held by his groin and quickly covering the tent protruding from his shorts.

…Fuck!

© HOSHIGRAY2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[burberryharold]

harry is 24 what are you guys talking about

[vivwritesfics]

I have an idea!! Hufflepuff!Lando but with scary Slytherin!Gf privileges Or Slytherin!Max with Hufflepuff!Gf who has scary dog privileges

You have in a Harry potter x f1 chokehold

-🐮

(when i reopen my inbox i'd loooove for more of these requests) (also, for anybody called ingrid im sorry)

YOU GET BOTH!! Starting with the max one:

Jos Verstappen was infamous in the wizarding world. He'd killed an insane number of witches and wizards and tried to kill little Charles Leclerc, the chosen one. But Charles was the reason that Jos had lost all of his power.

One day after this, Charles started Hogwarts at the same time as Max Verstappen, the son of the man that had killed his parents.

Max's welcome into Hogwarts was as expected. They fucking hated him and they weren't shy of hiding it. For his first few years at the school it sucked, but Max got used to it. Let them hate him, he realised. He couldn't give less of a shit.

But there was one person that didn't hate him. She didn't treat him like the monster his father was, the monster he probably was too. She made him feel ordinary, normal. And he loved it.

He loved her.

She skipped into the hall without much of a care, typical Hufflepuff of her. She didn't got to her table, didn't join those at her house table. Instead she went over to the Slytherin table. The other Slytherins didn't much like it, but Max didn't care. If his girl wanted to sit with him, she would.

Nobody would dare stand up to him.

"Hey, Maxie," she said as she slipped into the seat beside him. She kissed his cheek and began reaching for food.

Max wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. "Are you watching the match tomorrow?" He asked her as she began eating.

She nodded her head and swallowed her food. "Can I borrow your scarf?" She asked. There was no way she was missing a chance to watch Max and Charles race each other for the snitch on the quidditch pitch.

"Of course," Max said and kissed the top of her head again.

They ate together before she had to run off for herbology and Max had charms. She ran after Lando Norris as she saw him walking off and linked her arm through his. "Bob," she said as they headed off to herbology.

"Ingrid." Her name wasn't Ingrid, just like his name wasn't Bob. But they were just their silly little names for each other. "How is the Slytherin boyf?"

She gave him an unimpressed look. "Boyfriend, not boyf," she said as he led the way. "He's okay, though. He's looking forward to the match tomorrow."

"Has anybody given you anymore shit for being with him?" He asked and she rolled her eyes.

"They always give me shit, Lan," she muttered as they walked into Professor Vowles class. "Don't say anything to Max. He'd only lose his shit."

And he would lose his shit if he knew that other students still harassed her for dating him. He'd seen it once before, and he had lost his shit. It was enough to scare the other students away, especially when he was around.

But then when Max wasn't around, the bullying started up again. It fucking sucked, but she tried to not let it get to her.

And then one day, Max saw it.

She was sat on the fountain, waiting for him when they approached. A group of slightly younger Gryffindors. They hated Max more than anybody. "Oh look," one of them shouted. "It's the Verstappen shagger."

She ignored them, turned the other way to look for Max. "Oh, come on, sweetheart," the one at the front of the pack shouted after her. "Just admit it."

"Admit what?" She found herself spitting.

"Admit that you're with him because you're scared of him."

Suddenly, her fist flew out, striking the first Gryffindor on the cheek. "Fuck," she gasped, immediately pulling her knuckles into her chest, cradling them. The Gryffindor stumbled back, clearly surprised.

This was the bit that Max saw. He walked out of the castle just in time to see her fist make contact with the Gryffindor. Instantly Max ran over. "Hey!" He shouted, his voice deep. The Gryffindors immediately looked over, their eyes going wide. "Get the fuck away from her!" He shouted.

The began to scarper, but Max chased after them. "Max! Wait!" She cried as she grabbed a hold of his robes.

He was practically foaming it at the mouth as he turned to her and wrapped his arms around her. "I hate them," he seethed as he pressed his nose against her hair. "I hate all of them."

"It's okay, Maxie," she whispered as she reached up to run her hands through his hair. "Don't give them any more fuel."

She felt him relax against her. But he kept his arms wrapped around her, squeezing her tight. "They all expect me to be like him that they won't give me a chance to be myself. What if they're right, though? What if I'm destined to be a monster like him?"

"Maxie," she whispered and moved out from beneath her. But she still kept his arms around her. "You're not him and you'll never be him," she said. "You're Max. My big, scary, Slytherin boyfriend Max."

[james-bucky-barnackle]

Froyo

Synopsis: During a premiere red carpet with Drew, an interviewer’s question accidentally reveals that a seemingly ordinary dinner was actually Drew’s attempt at a first date covered by two random tiktoks. Pairing: Drew Starkey x Actress!Reader Word Count: IDK I'm too sleep deprived to count A/N: I know I still owe you guys a Gwayne Hightower fanfic, but the chokehold Drew fucking Starkey has on me is insane. btw, I realized this is the second time I've created a fic based on real people vs the normal Marvel character thingy I do. And to be honest, there's gonna be a lot more... so maybe I should make this a series considering they're all triggered by an interview and Y/N's always an actress lol. ALSO at the end, there's a poll on what you think should happen next, and best believe I'll do my best to write that.

There’s an edit circulating on TikTok of you and your co-star Drew Starkey from your red carpet interview together. You’re both starring in an Amazon limited series about college classmates who become close after witnessing your professor’s murder and are now on a shared mission to solve the crime. You’ve known him closely for a year now, but have been following his career even before that. I mean, who wouldn’t? The man is gorgeous. But of course, you couldn’t let him know that.

As shooting began, the two of you grew closer, and you decided to be professional and put that whole fascination aside. You’ve both even dated other actors and celebrities, which have also been topics for gossip channels and paparazzi photos. Despite all that, you’ve hung out plenty, mostly in groups but also during breaks in filming—often grabbing lunch and coffee together.

Today, you and Drew are laughing as you finally see the edit that’s been at the top of both your PR’s nightmare list.

You’re dressed in an elegant beige gown, skin-tight and slightly sheer, which Carrie Bradshaw would definitely call the naked dress. Your hair is pulled back in a low bun, bangs effortlessly framing your face. You’ve just arrived at the red carpet, taking your time to chat with interviewers. The first few questions are light, mostly about how fun it was working on set and, of course, what you're wearing.

After a few minutes, Drew catches up to you. He’s in a baby blue suit, sepia shades covering his eyes, smelling incredible. His presence is like a tight, warm hug—well, a little tighter on your chest. His voice sends tingles down your spine as he whispers, one hand casually placed on the small of your back.

“What did I miss?” He smiles at you and the interviewer.

“Oh, nothing much, I was just telling Amelia how you’re always late to everything.” You smirk, shooting a playful look at the camera. Amelia, your interviewer, raises her eyebrows dramatically, playing along. Both of you laugh as Drew backs away, feigning offense.

“I’ve been here since like—” He starts to defend himself.

“Like five minutes ago,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Valid,” he agrees with a shrug, laughing.

Amelia continues her interview, moving on to ask about the possibility of a second season.

“I mean, yeah, I’d love to do a second season, for sure,” you nod, glancing at Drew, who’s nodding along, letting you take the lead. “But I’m not sure if it makes sense, since it was originally written as a one-season story. For that to happen, someone might have to die again so Kelsea and James can investigate something new.”

Kelsea and James are the names of the characters you play—who, of course, end up dating on the show.

“So you’re saying someone has to die for the two of you to get back together on set?” Amelia jokes, her deadpan delivery only making it funnier.

“I mean, I don’t know!” You laugh. “You’re twisting my words, Amelia!”

“I honestly think you just don’t want to hang out with me anymore, Y/N,” Drew chimes in, a playful pout on his face. “I’m hurt.”

“Is that why there wasn’t a second date?” Amelia asks, teasingly. Her tone is light, but the question lands hard. Drew’s eyes widen in surprise, his smile freezing as if even he didn’t see that one coming. He covers his mouth, trying not to laugh while you stand there, looking utterly confused.

“Second date? What?” You laugh, trying to figure out if this is some sort of red carpet joke you weren’t briefed on. You glance at Drew, who’s just shaking his head, still grinning but not offering any explanations.

You lower your voice, leaning towards him, “What is she—what date?” You chuckle awkwardly, trying to maintain your cool, though the confusion is clearly written all over your face. Drew glances at Amelia, then back at you, and you can tell he feels a little bad now.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of awkward silence, Drew admits, “When we got dinner and froyo.” He says it so nonchalantly that it takes you a second to process.

“That was a date?!” you whisper-yell, smacking his arm, your jaw practically hitting the floor. “You said it was just dinner!”

“I know!” Drew laughs, his cheeks turning a little pink. “I said that because I thought you didn’t like me back! I was sending out signals!”

“What signals?” you ask, still reeling from the shock. “That’s unfair, you said it was just dinner! I feel so bad—I didn’t know!” You place your hand on his arm, squeezing it apologetically. You’re both laughing now, but you’re also genuinely flustered.

“I did tell you!” Drew protests. “I said, ‘Do you want to have dinner with me?’ And you were like, ‘Are we bringing Madz along?’ And when I said no, you were like, ‘Why?’”

“That is not enough, Drew!” You laugh, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Your PR team is probably dying, but at least this little moment might boost some publicity for the show. You actually remember the video Amelia might be referring to; your assistant had sent it to you a few months back. You found it interesting and even funny because you honestly thought it was just a fan shipping the two of you together—cutting together videos and photos of you and Drew when you were out to eat. You try to recall what that day was like and pick apart whatever signals Drew was referring to, but you really can’t remember anything different from the way he’s interacted with you since you two first met.

You realize the gag has gone on long enough and decide to wrap it up before the awkwardness can escalate further.

“Amelia, I’m so sorry about this,” you say with a dramatic sigh, trying to regain your composure. “Even while confessing his undying love for me, he’s still late. Men, what can you do?”

Drew, still chuckling, wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his way of apologizing. You feel a warmth settle over you, even as your mind is still catching up to everything.

The camera flashes pop around you, and suddenly, those TikTok edits of you looking perpetually confused start to make a little more sense.

When the premiere starts, halfway through the screening, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. You check your makeup, but instead of heading straight back to the theater, you decide to take a moment. The whole "date reveal" situation has thrown you off more than you realized, and you need a second to process it. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, replaying the interview in your head. You haven't had the chance to talk to Drew about it since, and the thought lingers in the back of your mind. You don’t want another clueless moment to make it into the tabloids.

You wash your hands, fix your makeup, and prepare to head back out. But as you step through the door, you see Drew standing there, waiting.

“Well, look who it is—the jokester,” you say, crossing your arms with a mock grin. “Here to ask me out on another one-sided date?”

Drew smirks, stepping closer. “Huh? What are you talking about? I’m just here to pee,” he teases, nudging your shoulder.

“Not funny,” you mutter, rolling your eyes but feeling a smile tug at the corner of your mouth.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” His smile softens, and for the first time since the red carpet, you can tell he actually feels a little guilty. “I really am.”

“You should be!” You huff, but your tone is playful now, your annoyance melting away as you meet his eyes. "That was so long ago."

Drew takes a step closer, and you suddenly become very aware of the quietness around you. It’s just the two of you now, the noise of the premiere distant, almost forgotten. His gaze flickers to your lips for just a second, and your heart skips a beat.

“Y/N…” He hesitates, like he’s trying to find the right words. “About that second date…”

“You mean actual first date?” you correct him, raising an eyebrow, trying to keep your cool.

Drew pauses, then chuckles softly. “Yeah,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “Actual first date. What do you think?”

You stare at him, caught off guard. You weren’t expecting him to just put it out there like that. His easygoing nature usually means he hides behind jokes or avoids direct confrontation. But now, with no cameras, no noise—just you and him—he’s being sincere.

“You know,” you say, your voice quieter now, “if you made it clear the first time, I still would’ve said yes.”

Drew’s eyes widen slightly, and a smile slowly spreads across his face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. “Really.”

His grin widens, and there’s something boyishly excited about it, like you’ve just given him the best news of the day. “No froyo this time, I promise.”

“Good,” you laugh. “Because that wasn’t a date.”

“Duly noted.” He steps closer, his hand brushing yours, and this time it doesn’t feel accidental. His fingers curl around yours lightly, the touch sending a spark through you.

“You know, we could leave early,” he suggests, glancing back towards the theater. “Skip the rest of the screening, maybe grab some dinner… somewhere where I make it clear it’s a date.”

You bite your lip, considering it, but your eyes narrow playfully. “And deal with the wrath of our PR teams later? You must love living dangerously.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You make a good point. But I promise, after all the photos, after all the interviews... we’ll do this right.”

You nod, smiling at him. “I’ll hold you to that.”

With that, you both walk back into the theater. His hand lingers on yours for a moment longer before he finally lets go, and even as you take your seats for the rest of the screening, the air between you has changed.

You glance at him once more, feeling that familiar warmth return, only this time, it’s not confusing or awkward.

The noise of the film dims around you, though you’re still hyper-aware of the room, the hundreds of eyes on the screen, and the occasional flash from the press in the back. Drew leans back in his seat, arms crossed loosely, but he’s not watching the movie either. Instead, he looks over at you, catching your eye.

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and you quickly face forward, pretending to focus on the movie. But then, from the corner of your vision, you feel him move slightly closer. The tension that was always there, that you’d pushed aside so many times, is undeniable now.

After the premiere ends, there’s the usual round of applause and the hum of people slowly rising to leave. Drew stands up first, offering you his hand, and even though you can stand up just fine on your own, you take it. There’s something about that gesture that feels significant—like you’ve crossed a line you didn’t realize you were approaching until now.

You’re both still in work mode, nodding and smiling at the industry people you pass, but the moment you’re outside, the cool night air hitting your face, Drew turns to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Alright,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “How do you feel about grabbing that dinner tonight?”

You blink, caught off guard by how fast he’s moving. “Tonight? We just got out of the premiere,” you laugh, though there’s excitement bubbling under the surface. “I know, but if I wait any longer, who knows what crazy schedules we’ll get caught up in again.” He steps closer, his smile genuine, warm. “I’ve waited this long to actually do it right. What’s a few more hours?"

“Alright,” you say, a grin breaking through. “Let’s do it. Dinner—our actual first date.”

His eyes light up. “Great. I know a place.”

The restaurant Drew takes you to is tucked away, quiet and intimate, and you laugh at how quaint it is, most of the other diners are old enough to be your grandparents. You feel comfort knowing most of them don't have phones let alone know who the both of you are. For all they care, you could be two kids coming home from a costume party just ending the night with a bite.

“So,” you say as you both sit down, menus in hand but neither of you really looking at them. “This is what a proper date feels like, huh?”

Drew leans back in his chair, grinning. “Better than froyo, right?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Significantly better.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, the kind where you both just look at each other and realize this is happening—really happening. You’re on a date with Drew, and it’s not some PR stunt or a casual hangout. It’s real. And for the first time, you’re letting yourself want it. "You think they're wondering why we're over dressed?" You hide behind a menu. "Overdressed? Excuse me? This is what I wear everyday." Drew retorts, making you chortle.

“So,” you say, resting your chin on your hand, “What’s the plan after this? Froyo?”

Drew chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

He grins, eyes glinting with that same playful energy you’ve always liked. “Well, I’ll make sure tonight’s memorable enough that it overshadows that.”

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[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐅*𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑.

-ˏˋ. 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˊˎ-

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — FWB!matthew tkachuk x f!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 1.7k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — "old habits die hard..." — or, your boyfriend won’t fuck you right, so you run to the one person who always does.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — patrons know the chokehold this toxic sin-fest has on me and probably always will... in all seriousness, this is one of my favorite things i've ever published and i am so insanely proud of it. i hope you love it as much as i do <3

(spoiler — not possible teehee)

18+ MDNI — content warnings under the cut.

𝐜𝐰 — profanity, innuendo, matthew’s filthy mouth and lack of morals, cheating (not on matty or the reader), outdated/incorrect information about having sex for the first time, borderline too much degradation, some objectification to add a little spice, unprotected sex w a cheeky creampie (what did you expect from two morally bankrupt individuals written by me, a retired whore?), matthew being a noncommittal, possessive piece of shit joking about knocking people up for funzies

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“D’you think you’re so addicted to my cock because you know I don’t give a fuck what you think about me? Or care if you think I’m a Nice Guy?”

Even buried to the hilt—bare with nothing between you and far too fucking close for comfort—Matthew Tkachuk runs his mouth like he’s got nothing to lose and even less to prove. He’s insufferable, his only redeeming quality being the pulsing appendage threatening to split you in half as you buck in his lap.

With your hands braced against his hard chest for leverage, you drown out his grating voice, chasing the white-hot surges, bolts of lightning leading you to the brink of collapse with renewed vigor.

The sooner you come, the sooner he’s gone.

“All I care about, sweetheart, is fucking you good and hard. Giving it to you like the hungry, cockdrunk whore that you are.”

Debonair attitude. Sly confidence. Vulgar demeanor.

Filthy fucking mouth.

You were warned about Matthew Tkachuck. Repeatedly. Warned about him and his complete lack of a filter, about his total disregard for anyone’s feelings but his own. His aversion to commitment, to monogamy, to propriety.

All the things that repulse you about the man lounging on expensive hotel sheets beneath you—as you do all the work—lure you back to him in equal measure. He shouldn’t turn you on, but that’s exactly why he does. He’s all wrong, wrong, wrong.

Which makes him just right.

“I bet if your fiancé walked in right now, you’d just keep riding me. You wouldn’t even notice, would you? After all, you haven’t cum yet. And that’s all you care about, right? Using my cock to get your rocks off because Billy Boyfriend’s too scared to give you what you really need. Lucky for you, I’m not a fuckin’ pussy. I don’t treat you like a fragile doll because I know you’ll take anything I give you—and beg for more. I treat you like what you are, not some chaste little princess.”

You’ve been with Bill for nearly a decade, engaged for more than a year. It’ll be a spring wedding, probably. If the venue pans out, and the caterer finally calls you back with a final quote.

Perfect on paper.

He doesn’t pay attention to you the way he used to. Just throws money at the problem until he can bury himself in work again, undisturbed by you or nagging obligation.

Flowers for being three hours late, a necklace for missing dinner entirely. A trip overseas when he had to go into the office on your anniversary.

But he’s nice, so fucking nice it hurts, and more loyal than the Golden Retriever he wants to adopt after the honeymoon. After you’re settled into a custom-build nestled comfortably in the suburbs and far away from the city. White picket fence, manicured lawn, barely-there speed limits.

It's all so nauseatingly idyllic. So perfectly attuned with what you thought you wanted, what you spent your childhood coveting.

All your single friends are jealous; your committed friends are resentful. Your family loves him, and even though you’ve got a fucked up way of showing it, so do you.

And he loves you too. He’s just busy. It’ll be different once we’re settled, he says. You try to believe him, though not as hard as you should. You tell yourself it's because he doesn’t either.

Bill’s gotten lazy. You’ve gotten bored.

You’re no angel, and never claimed to be. You just want to feel good.

Matthew barks out a dry laugh, almost like he can read your mind.

“You haven’t been since I first got you on your knees at his birthday party. And definitely not after I popped that sweet cherry you were so adamant about saving for him."

Bill doesn’t fuck you. He never has.

He makes love to you. It’s that romance-novel tenderness that got you here in the first place. Slow, sweet, and nearly devoid of passion. It’s so gentle you have to think of him just to come.

How he fucks you.

How tightly he yanks your hair, craning your neck until it aches. How hard he kneads and smacks your ass, bullying the skin until you sob. How deep his cock reaches. And how he takes, takes, takes without forethought. How could you accept a lifetime of only tame rutting in the face of Pavlovian depravity?

It’s awful, and it's so profoundly selfish, but his everything has you in a bind.

Matthew’s everything is ruining your life.

An uncharacteristic wave of guilt and sadness washes over you, and before you can catch yourself, you’re staring down at the engagement ring. The band constricts, digging into your finger like it's out for blood when you glimpse the indentation it left behind on Matthew’s peck. You wince, then choke down the shame lodged in your throat, screwing your eyes shut to will it away.

“If it's bothering you that much, take it off. I’ll keep it safe for you.” —wink— “I can’t imagine the weight of a rock like that, especially one you don’t even deserve. But, if you actually felt as guilty as you claim to, you wouldn’t be this wet on another man’s cock. Don’t play saint now. You’ll ruin the fun.”

You can’t do this right now; you can’t have this worn-out fight. So, you say what you always say even though you’ve long since stopped trying to mean it.

“You keep saying that, sweetheart. We should stop. This is the last time. But no matter what you say, you always come crawling back to me sooner or later because I have what you need. Because I’m not him. Because I fuck you better.”

His words light you on fire. You hate it, but how deeply your body enjoys them is undeniable. How tightly you squeeze and flutter with every degrading line, choking his cock as you use him to satisfy your own perverted needs. How his brutal honesty, his refusal to let you forget your zealous participation in the affair for even a second, arches your back and hardens your nipples.

Even without all that evidence stacked against you, the blitzed-out look on your face says it all. One look at you and everyone would know just how right Matthew is.

“Shut the fuck up,” you growl.

You say it for the sake of saying it. To know, when you curl into Bill's side tonight, that you said something to deny his assessment of you.

But the last thing you want is for him to shut his mouth.

Not right now, not when you’re right there—

“You can’t hide from me, sweetheart, and you can’t lie to me. You can’t fool me, either. I see right fucking through you. It terrifies you—and you love it.”

His raspy voice swims freely through your hollowed-out mind. It unwittingly thumbs through every unforgivable memory, like some sort of pornographic Rolodex.

Matthew’s hips grinding against yours in darkened corners and dive-bar bathroom stalls and poker tables.

His hands fighting against hard-earned sweat in the foggy backseat of his car, battling to find purchase anywhere he can so he can keep rutting with reckless abandon before you’re expected home.

His fingertips burrowing into the sides of your throat, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to silence, hard enough to hurt.

Him spilling inside of you, ropes painting the sacred place white with no remorse or expectation of responsibility.

Matty’s hand over your mouth, urging you to be fucking quiet as he pistons in and out, in and out, keeping you pinned against the bathroom door, against the only thing standing between Bill and the worst discovery of his apple-pie life—

Old habits die hard.

Especially when it’s one that always feels that fucking good. No matter how lecherous or immoral.

Or how badly the betrayal would hurt someone underserving and innocent.

“Even if you walk down that aisle and take his last name, you’ll still belong to me. Wedding or not, this pathetic, weeping cunt belongs to me. But it’s all gonna be okay, though. Don’t you worry that pretty, empty head. I don’t mind sharing my toys. Especially with someone who could never compete.”

You can't compete where you don't compare.

He doesn’t want to be your boyfriend. He doesn’t want to be anyone’s boyfriend. He isn’t the Relationship Type. He doesn’t even want to be exclusive. That’s part of his appeal, no matter how fervently you deny it. He doesn’t want more than pleasure—primal, deviant pleasure—and that’s all you're looking for.

That's all you need.

“Where do you want my load, dirty girl?”

“Inside. I-Inside me, please, Matty.”

“Right answer.”

The burst of warmth is like getting a perfect grade you didn’t earn. Or feeling the cash your sibling gave you in exchange for not ratting them out sitting in your back pocket. It's hard to feel bad about the wrong you’ve done when the payoff is so deliciously worthwhile.

Matthew twitches, still hugged by your sensitive walls, and you shudder.

This is the high you chase every time you bend your morals until they splinter. The still nothingness that lays beyond the denouement, where everything is glowy and the pit inside you appears not-so-bottomless for once. The lack of expectations and obligations. The sheer freedom that stringless pleasure, that sensual self-indulgence provides.

Matthew doesn’t owe you anything, you don’t owe him anything either, and neither of you pretends otherwise.

And you sure as fuck don’t trip on his dirty laundry every time you walk into the bedroom.

“If that doesn’t take,” Matthew flicks his hips in emphasis, “…let me know when and where you want your wedding present, sweetheart.”

You don’t answer. You push his hands away and roll off of him unceremoniously. But he keeps talking.

Matthew is always talking.

“Oh, and before I forget, would you be a dear and let Billy know I won’t be able to make it for his bachelor party? I don’t know why, but I have the oddest feeling that something desperately needing my attention will come up.”

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All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2023 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

-

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[queer-n-here]

Guys how do we feel about Ango-

Like he is so aghhhhhhh

like words cannot

like he's so good looking and i want him in every meaning of the term to where its not okay

i also cannot find anything thats mlm for this man im going insane!!!

not really a request, just like

on ur brains back burner

just ango

-🦅 rambling lmfao im sorry

Brother, I agree! Like, look at this man

Look at that fucking curve of his waist, brotha, has me in a chokehold. And what's with that gaze? No, I ask you, WHAT IN THE SEDUCER SPY IS WITH THAT GAZE?! DOES HE WANNA FUCK? DOES HE? CUZ IM DOWN AS HELL. THE GOVT. BETTER PROVIDE HIM A WHEELCHAIR CUZ HE AINT GONNA WALK AFTER IM DONE WITH HIM, AYE NA!

*Clears throat and takes a deep breath* No but seriously, why does he look like he's gonna strip to reveal sexy lingerie or smth in this one? And again, what's with THAT FUCKING GAZE-

Anyways, mannnnnnn, I totally get ya... Like the lack of mlm for some fandoms/ characters is just painful at this point...

[makoodles]

IVE BEEN GIVEN PERMISSION TO HORNYPOST..... sadistic gaz has me in a chokehold sorry and ovulation is NOT helping me because all my brain makes me think of is his sweet smile as he looks down on you clawing at his sheets and pillow because he's bound your hands <3 the man has this insane 6th sense for when you're about to cum so he always pulls his hips back at the very last second while still stimulating himself so his cum spills over your thighs and tummy while you're left achingly empty :((

and he keeps repeating that until the tears lining your eyes actually spill over and he just goes "awww, was it not enough for my baby? don't worry, I'll give you what you want now, you dont have to cry for me" :((( except you very much do because this man is a capital S-A-D-I-S-T

and finally, finally he sees fits to let you cum and you feel your muscles relaxing from the intense comedown...... but he just. keeps. going. pulling orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated, wrecked body until you're sobbing for a different reason now, thighs clamping around his head and feet kicking over his shoulders as you try to squirm away and up his bed just to get a fucking break :((

you know the aftercare would be absolutely divine though. he wouldn't let you do a single thing for the rest of the day and the entire day after, thoroughly spoiling you by waiting on you hand and foot. fucks you like you're a whore and then pampers you like royalty for putting up with his insane tendencies <3 my man

SMILING DOWN AT YOU AS YOU CLAW AT THE SHEETS IM SCREAMING

gaz and overstimulation hits so different AHHHH and the orgasm denial and edging?! the way that he'd coo at you that you're being so greedy even as he keeps holding the chance to come over your head? AHHHHH i wanna give him everything i swear to god

also yessss gaz is an aftercare kinggggg for sure! will be kissing your neck and shoulders and murmuring about how pretty and perfect you are for hours!!

[froginabogg]

i just,,, are y'all aware of how insane the TIT tour is? of how insane the meta of their entire lives has gotten?

this tour was a hard launch for everyone in that room, no one else in the entire world knows what the fuck is going on but for US ??? for us??? this is everything

that song at the end has a chokehold on me and it's because it's literally mental how much they are saying in it like how much is happening in it it's fucked up crazy !!

"this can be both from our perspective and your perspective" okay dan the song hasn't even started and you're already out here with the parasocial commentary fuck off smart boy

"content consume you say it's crazy" insane commentary on the industry they have gotten themselves into and how to continue making "art" in the current youtube climate while simultaneously being a comment on fandom culture and how we consume their lives and go insane about it

"but idgaf because it saved me" THIS IS SO CRAZY TO SAY THIS IS INSANE BEHAVIOUR THIS IS NOT OKAY MAN what do you meannnnn idgaf in a tour all about "taking back what the internet took from us" they say multiple times verbatim that we were insane as a fandom and crossed boundaries THEN THEY DROP THIS??? and it's supposed to be taken as a message from them to us AND us to them??? that is so insane that is not a normal thing to DOOOOOO

once we have all of these lyrics figured out properly i might have to write a 3000 word analysis of this fuckass song i'm OBSESSED

[hellothereiplaygames]

This sums up my feelings about it pretty succinctly, where I think it really comes down to the writers at this point in time. I originally played Julian's route, then Asra's, and then have now played through each of the six routes and gotten both endings for each. Having already played Julian's route when I first played Asra's, Julian accusing Asra of being his accomplice seemed very forced (not knowing yet that Valerius accuses Nadia in her own route, so all three of the original routes take more or less the same path) in order to inject drama into the narrative. They needed to draw attention back to the hanging in order to make the Justice and Hanged Man chapters make sense. I can't even remember how they did it in the other three routes. I think Portia's might have diverted from this point with the arrival of Tasya.

It's only after playing Muriel's that this scene really struck me as odd and with scary implications, because if Asra did go along with this as nonchalantly as it appears from the information provided in the game, it isn't entirely out of character for them. It's evidence of how far he's willing to go for the Apprentice, and I'm just not with dragging your friend into something so triggering.

Once again, in Asra's defense, when first encountering Muriel in their route, he seems very concerned about Muriel's well-being, asking if he's eaten and if he has any food and genuinely seems to care about him just as much as Muriel cares about Asra. He clearly cares more about the Apprentice, but Muriel is definitely right after them. Their love language and way of showing affection and care is directly analogous to the way he treats the Apprentice.

After the comments made about the writers steamrolling them into a scene that more or less made all of them act out of character and someone else mentioning they think the whole scene is fanservice, the inclusion of this scene makes sense. The fanservice theory in particular makes sense considering the three decent male love interests are in revealing clothing and they even have Asra disintegrate Muriel's chains to make his form more overtly obvious. I do think that's what happened behind the scenes and that is the real root of the problem. Pretty sure at the time I originally played this game everyone was hyped to see Julian wearing his little gladiator outfit and the thirst was insane.

Still, it is very concerning that given the themes Asra's route deals with that it isn't out of the realm of possibility that he would choose to put Muriel in such a position in order to be with the Apprentice. All-consuming obsession and avoidant coping mechanisms and all that. I certainly hope he wouldn't do such a thing, but the fact that I can't really tell is very telling. It also gives Muriel's feelings toward the Apprentice more context.

But especially with the speculation about fanservice (which clearly came into play with the game's writing, i.e. woobified Lucio) makes the scene make a lot more sense and I feel inclined to feel like it's not really canon as well... because like... what is even happening? When I look through old versions of the prologue and other aspects of the game, it seems like they didn't have a concrete direction to take everything in and the fans' desires did start to outweigh the story's integrity at a certain point. Perhaps this is the point in Asra's route where this begins. Nixhydra made a lot of questionable choices with the game, so I guess this is just another example of it that unfortunately reflects very poorly on Asra's character, if you choose to read it that way. And once again, it ends with marginalizing Muriel (who is heavily indigenous-coded) and his suffering in particular, which has me grinding my teeth.

Some thoughts on Asra's route...

Replaying Asra's route after having played Muriel's really hits different...

In one of the other routes Asra and Muriel appear to start a romantic relationship, and in Asra's route it's very clear that Muriel cares very deeply for Asra and dislikes the Apprentice. He mentions in one of the paid? dream scenes that he's worried about Asra and the Apprentice fading into their own world and leaving everyone else behind (again, apparently), and that he's determined to stop this from happening. His concern for Asra and initial hostility toward the Apprentice may be rooted in jealousy, not only because his oldest (and only) friend was more or less taken from him, but perhaps with romantic connotations as well.

In Book XI: Justice, Asra and Julian stage a mock trial by combat against Muriel. Though he apparently agreed to participate and is implied to have returned to the Coliseum of his own volition, presumably out of concern for Asra, who has been accused of being Julian's accomplice... he is still more or less backed into a corner and forced to play along with Asra and Julian's plan to stage a fight.

Now, to be fair to Asra, he states after everything goes wrong that it wasn't supposed to end this way, and it appeared that he was attempting to not only exonerate himself and Julian from their charges but somehow help Muriel overcome his past (he does disintegrate Muriel's chains during the fight no matter what choices you make). There was a point during this that I thought I could guess what Asra's plan was regarding Muriel's past, but being refreshed on how it actually pans out, I can't remember it now. Something about making the people of Vesuvia realize how barbaric the Coliseum was under Lucio.

The thing that stands out to me throughout this whole ordeal is that Asra knows about Muriel's trauma. He knows he was enslaved to Lucio and forced to fight and execute people in the Coliseum. He knows that Muriel is terrified of hurting other people, especially those he cares about. In Asra's route, the only person Muriel cares about is Asra, so hurting him is triggering for him. He literally is in a stupor after the board he was using as a weapon splinters off and hits Asra in the mouth, making him bleed. This is clearly meant to make the reader worried about Asra, but Muriel reacts as well, and appears hypnotized by the blood. I remember the first time I read this I thought he was going to have some crazy berserker-Hulk sort of reaction, but having read his route, it's way more tragic.

Though Muriel did seem to return to the Coliseum of his own volition, it does seem that Asra took this as a sign that he was coming to terms with his trauma. He was willing to exploit Muriel's care for him in order to save his own skin so he can be with the Apprentice. Though I recognize Asra's other toxic traits to some degree, I also have similar ones myself so they don't really stand out to me. This, however, where he more or less disregards Muriel's feelings on the matter, is actually really crushing. In Muriel's route, his whole thing is that he DOES NOT want to fight, he DOES NOT want to even spar with the Apprentice with blunt sticks out of fear of hurting them, so why would he willingly go along with this unless he was more or less in the same position Lucio put him in? Fight in the arena, or something bad will happen to Asra.

Asra knows this, and puts him through it regardless. During the whole fight, Julian's actions are written so as to make it seem like he's the one messing things up--he takes the "finishing blow" that Muriel was going to deal to Asra and gets knocked unconscious. Asra spends most of the entire time doing flashy, dramatic magic tricks that get the crowd cheering for him. After he "wins", he and the Apprentice are carried out of the Coliseum like heroes. Though Asra will try to soothe Muriel if the Apprentice so chooses right before the end, and he does look for Muriel in the crowd, he seems otherwise unbothered or unaware of the impact this may be having on his oldest friend. Which is pretty shitty.

Of course, Asra, Julian, and Muriel are all playing characters during their fight--Asra is the flashy magician, Julian is the rogueish BDSM dagger guy, and Muriel is the Scourge. Asra obviously can't show his concern even if he wanted to because he's supposed to be fighting Muriel. But putting his bro into this situation in the first place says a lot about his character. Though Julian is the one whose route is based around self-loathing because he believes he hurts everyone around him, Asra is the only one who gets what he wants out of this ordeal, and he even says so right before the chapter ends. Muriel was forced to relive his trauma and didn't get the resolution that was intended, and Julian gets KOed by a punch that literally sent him flying across the arena (though he probably enjoyed it tbh, he's a nasty little man like that lmao).

I wonder if this dynamic between Asra and Muriel was intentionally written this way in order to further amplify his tunnel vision when it comes to the Apprentice. Is this is how he acted in the past, causing Muriel to hate the Apprentice as he does and remark that he won't allow it to happen again? Maybe (probably) I'm reading too much into it, but as a survivor of abuse and trauma it rubs me the wrong way much more than Asra's obsessive, clingy nature. Of all of the reversed ends, Asra's is the one that actually scared me and kind of haunted me, because it hits a little too close to home.

These are all just thoughts that I wanted to spill out because I thought it was interesting and I wasn't sure if anyone else has talked about it before.

[t0ki0h0tel]

the chokehold that this man has on me is so violently fucking insane

[taegimood]

okie okie so soobin is my ult bias HE HAS HAD ME IN A CHOKEHOLD SINCE I SAW TXT AT THE ASM TOUR can you pleaseeee feed my delusions and write some soobin with chubby reader bc as a chubby reader i hardly ever find any and it makes me so bummy :((

also i found your account a few days ago and am SO glad that i did bc your posts are GOD TIER

-sincerely 🦥 anon (i’m claiming a spot on your anon list hehe 😈 if that’s alright with you 👀)

hi nonnie!!! ofc you can be 🦥 anon hehehe! and thank you so much for the support AHH i really appreciate it 😭🫶🏼 also i’m sorry that you haven’t found much inclusivity around :( i hope that you can find it here!! i do also have a brief chubby gf x tyun thought on here too~

──────────────────────

ohhh boyyyyy soobin w a chubby gf… heaven fr. he’d just think you’re soso soft and cute and would love cuddling himself up to you, head on your boobs as a pillow with his big hands smoothing up and down your soft curves.

don’t even get me started on how obsessed he’d be with your boobs, we all know he’s a boob man but just imagine how insane he’d get over extra squishy titties to squeeze and suck and lay on.. you’d have him in a chokehold just with that alone 😮‍💨 he’d also just love laying his head on your tummy, all warm and soft and squishy and spiking the breeding kink in him let’s be real

binnie who whispers how you were made for him as he fucks into you gently, hands roaming all over you, LOVING the way your body jiggles every time his hips slap against yours - he’d find it so hot 🥹 always telling you how perfect you are and how he loves the dimensions of your body, gets giddy over the fact that it’s “just more that i get to love!” and he thinks it’s so so sexy when you dress up all pretty for him in lingerie that hugs you just right, leaving room for imagination while still giving him a full view of your shape and those rolls and curves that he loves so much.

when the sex is rougher or more passionate, he’s gripping those curves to pull you back and forth firmly on his cock, uttering all kinds of filthy praises. “love the way you look bouncing on my cock, fuck, made just for me.. body all mine.. so fucking pretty, baby. can’t wait to fill you up so full.” moaning shamelessly at the loud slapping sounds and every ripple of your skin and the fact that no matter what size you may be, he’s still so much bigger and stronger and to him you’ll always be his little baby who he can manhandle just right <3

[diazsdimples]

to spread some positivity, what are some blogs that bring you joy?💕

Hi! This is such a lovely question, so here are some of my favourite blogs!

@theotherbuckley - one of my very first 9-1-1 moots and one of the sweetest people on this site. Currently know for making some of the best bucktommy/118 tweets, doing INCREDIBLE bucktommy artwork, and writing some adorable fics.

@hippolotamus - MY LOVE! I'll never be able to yell about Hippo enough actually. Her writing is insanely good and will make you cry e v e r y time. Also has some of the most ouch edits you'll find, and is unbelievably skilled with a pencil.

@daffi-990 - Daffi is a fantastic author and one of the best hype people on the planet. She's just finished her Rival Firefighters fic, which is SO good, I urge everyone to go read it right now!! Also has an amazing Fantasy AU on the go, and some delightful fanart for it too!!

@bidisasterevankinard - Di is the OG of OG bucktommy shippers and has fully embraced multishipping to the max. She's the go to for all your Bucktommy, Suck, Saltommy, and platonic Buddie needs, and also one of the kindest people to exist.

@neverevan - Newbie has some amazing gif collections, both of the buddie and bucktommy variety, writes some incredible fics (including the Mudslide fic which I emplore you please go read) and also has some incredible takes on our beloved blorbos. Highly recommend

@spotsandsocks - 911blr's most favourite fantasy author lets be real! Spotty has written some amazing AUs, like the Dragonriders of Pern au, her Shifter Fic, and Author!Buck!! Whenever I see a dragon I think of our dear Spotty. One of the kindest mutuals a man can have.

@watchyourbuck - Sofia makes some of the most hilarious memes about the show and is a fucking delight to follow. Has fantastic takes, writes some positively steamy fics about both Buddie and Bucktommy, currently working on Murder Husbands and A.R.C.A.N.E.3 which I LOVE.

@bigfootsmom - Seriously if you don't follow Molly then what are you doing? An unbelievably talented artist that also manages to play with our emotions something wicked with their fics. Currently working on the seahorse girl dad Bucktommy fic that has me in such a chokehold it's insane, as well as the helicopter crash fic which might actually kill us all.

And some mutuals that deserve all the love in the world:

@wikiangela @steadfastsaturnsrings @lonelychicago @monsterrae1 @dangerpronebuddie

@cal-daisies-and-briars @inell @actuallyitsellie @perfectlysunny02 @aroeddiediaz

@exhuastedpigeon @bucksbignaturals @rainbow-nerdss @elvensorceress @lafdhoncho

@kinardbuckleys @kinkykinard @tommysdaddykink @gayhoediaz @jewishbuckley

@nilefreemans @doublecheekedkinard @tommykinardkink @buckevantommy @smallandalmosthonest

@djdangerlove @thekristen999 @loveyouanyway @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @slightlyobsessedwitheverything

@wildlife4life

And some non-mutuals that have amazing blogs, please go follow them right tf now:

@buckttommy @eddiebabygirldiaz @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels @lemonzestywrites @princessfbi

@try-set-me-on-fire @devirnis @prettyboybuckley