#comments on a tiktok should be like considered

[honexjams]

i so very often see people making judgements that are fairly neutral in nature like i dont know how to say "you have this hot reaction to that person bc you have something in your brain that makes you hostile to people / a kind of person youre unfamiliar with which can very easily lead you down a path of darkness" in a way that will make people be like damn maybe i wont leave this tiktok comment

[simplyholl]

The Interview

Summary: After a talk show interview where secrets are revealed, things get heated in your dressing room.

Pairing: Rockstar Bucky x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Rockstar AU.

See My Masterlist Here

A/N: Sebastian Stan as Tommy Lee has me in a chokehold. So this was born from my tatted, horny daydreams.

"Who is your celebrity crush?" The host of the Midnight Show, Chet Smith asked you. Your newest movie was a box office hit, so you had to do every talk show to promote it. To say you were exhausted is an understatement. Luckily, this was your last stop for today. This show was the most fun because Chet brought out all the celebrity guests together. At least you weren't by yourself answering awkward questions.

The other guests were Red Star, the hottest rock band at the moment. They went viral while playing at their local bar. An audience member threw a bottle at their lead singer, Loki and the whole band jumped off stage to fight. They were offered a record deal the same week.

They are known for their wild videos on TikTok. Women everywhere love them. Currently, they are squeezed on the small sofa with you for the interview. Bucky Barnes, their drummer sat on one side of you, his tattoos drew you in like a moth to a flame. You were doing your best to not stare at him the whole time.

The Odinson brothers, Thor and Loki were on the other side. Loki is the lead singer, his long, dark curls and piercing stare made men and women weak in the knees. Thor plays guitar and he is the band's himbo. He's a charmer, flirting with you the whole interview. Steve Rogers is their bassist, an All-American guy to balance the others out. He plays the part well, flashing his megawatt smile at the live audience. But you can tell there is a darker side to him lurking under the surface.

You consider Chet's question; your PR team warned you about questions like this. "Well, I don't really have one." You shrug your shoulders, as the audience begs for a real answer. "Come on, darling. I know you're lying." Loki smirks, reaching his hand over Thor to rub your thigh.

"If I go first, will that help?" Steve asks, being the helpful guy that he is. You nod smiling shyly at him. "Okay, but when it's your turn you have to be honest." He winks at you, and the audience goes wild. He answers one of your costars. You promise to hook them up later. You feel your cheeks heating up, suddenly embarrassed that you have to answer now.

Chet repeats the question, and you bite your lip, pointing beside you to Bucky. "My celebrity crush is actually this guy." Bucky looks ecstatic, high fiving his band members as they congratulate him as if he has won an award. Thor's answer is a pretty pop star who he had been spotted out with twice already.

Loki's celebrity crush is a famous author whose upcoming book features a main male character who looks suspiciously like him. Dating rumors swirled even though there was no proof, except for a few flirty comments between them on Instagram. When it's Bucky's turn he says you, draping his heavily tattooed arm around you. You smile, grateful that he lied to save you from public humiliation. You were sure he was going to say someone who didn't look anything like you.

You're already dreading what the headlines tomorrow had in store. You and Bucky cuddled up on this sofa would no doubt be on every website. You should have lied, you tell yourself. People will start shipping you, his fans would be saying horrible things about you. You should have said anyone else.

Red Star took the stage to close the show. They were playing their latest number one hit. The audience was on their feet, some girls were crying as Loki's sultry voice came over the speakers. You watched Bucky closely. He played the drums like it was his life's purpose. He tossed the drumsticks in the air, pointing to you and winking as he caught them. It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

When their set was over, Bucky walked toward the dressing rooms with you, stopping outside yours. "Thanks for saying I was your celebrity crush back there. I would have been so embarrassed if you would have said somebody else." He flips his hair out of his eyes. "You don't have to thank me. It was the truth." You tell him goodbye, feeling awkward about the whole thing. You turn to go inside your dressing room to change into comfy clothes before you go back to the hotel.

Thick fingers catch your wrist, pulling you back toward him. "I wasn't ready to tell you bye." Bucky's lips curl, the light shines on his nose ring, bringing attention to his face. When you look into his shining blue eyes, you realize you don't want him to leave either. You grab the sides of his leather jacket, pulling him toward you. His mouth is on yours instantly. He presses you against your dressing room door, his large body covering yours.

You tangle your fingers in his long locks, needing him closer. Bucky hungrily kisses down your neck, while one hand travels under your dress. He rubs his thumb against your soaked panties. "All this for me?" You whine when he rubs harder, your clit making contact with the silky fabric. You move your hips, lost in the moment.

Voices echo down the hallway, bringing you out of your horny haze. "Bucky" You whisper, trying to warn him so he has time to stop before they see you. "Shh. I got you." He moves his body, so he is blocking you from view. His fingers are relentless, dipping inside your panties. His rough thumb rolls over your clit, you bury your face into his chest.

"Oh my God, It's Bucky! We are huge fans!" A woman's voice comes from behind him. You aren't brave enough to look, so you keep your face hidden. "Thanks guys. I love meeting fans. So, what's your favorite song?" You try to pinch him so he will get rid of them, but he continues talking about the world tour they are about to go on.

He enters you with two fingers, curling them as you moan out loud. The women look around him, finally noticing you. "Is she okay?" The second one asks. "Yeah, she's fine. She just ate too much so she has a stomachache." His fingers caress your inner walls, thumb rubbing in small circles. The band in your belly snaps, arousal flooding his hand as you come apart. Your legs shake, and you hold onto his arm to steady yourself. You clench your teeth to keep from making noise.

"You better get her inside; she can barely stand." One of the women says. They tell you both goodbye, as Bucky leads you inside your dressing room. "You did so good for me, but I need more." You look at him incredulously. He just made you cum the hardest you ever had in your life in front of two strangers and that wasn't enough.

Your legs are still trembling as he lifts you onto the vanity. Your back hits the cool mirror as Bucky slides your panties down your legs. His hot breath tickles your thighs as he lowers his face, pressing kisses to your inner thighs. He takes his time, nipping your sensitive skin. He licks a lazy stripe up your center, avoiding where you need him most. His tongue sinks inside you, firm nose pressing against your clit.

You cry out, head falling back, knocking into the mirror behind you. It bangs against the wall, hard enough to rattle the pictures hung there. Bucky drinks every drop of you, moaning as you writhe against his face. His plump lips fasten around your swollen nub, sucking and tugging like he can't get enough.

Your shaking legs close around his head, trapping him as you ride out your high. You cry his name, not caring who hears you. Bucky lifts you, slamming you against the wall. He holds you with one arm, the other works quickly to bring his pants down. His cock springs free, pink tip leaking. You swallow hard, intimidated by his size. "You're so big." You shiver, anticipation putting you on edge. He holds you, lining your bodies up.

"You can take it." He snaps his hips up, slamming into you. You try to adjust as he stretches you, wiggling around to see if the stinging will go away. When it starts feeling good, your arms wrap around his neck, holding on as he pulls out, leaving the tip in. He thrusts back into you, bottoming out. You have never felt so full, he fills every inch of you. He sets a steady rhythm, every part of him feels like it was made for you. You pulse around him, your back hitting against the wall as he sinks impossibly deeper.

Bucky bunches your dress around your hips, thick fingers digging into your skin as he fucks you. You try to meet his thrusts, but you're too weak from the explosive orgasms he already gave you. You hold onto him as he uses your body, his ragged breath on your neck brings forth the familiar pressure in your lower stomach.

"You're doing so good. Fuck! You take me so well." He praises, moving your thigh higher up his torso. He holds it in place, tilting his hips. The new angle makes your vision blur as he deliciously drags against a place you were sure was a myth until this very moment. Your nails dig into the back of his neck as you shatter around him.

Bucky's thrusts grow brutal, taking what he needs from you. "Oh fuck" He moans as he spills inside you. For a moment, you just look at each other, trying to catch your breaths. Thankfully, he knows you can't stand on your own, so he carries you to the sofa. Your dress is still around your waist, arm over your eyes. You can already feel a dull ache in your stomach where he had been just moments ago.

"Do you mind?" Bucky asks, pointing his phone toward you. You narrow your eyes, not understanding. "You're just so fuckin' hot and I wanna remember this." He says, his meaning finally dawning on you. You nod, almost too tired to speak. He angles his phone camera toward you. "Fucking perfect." He examines the photo he just took before showing you.

Your hair is disheveled, giving you the appearance of being caught in a windstorm. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes blown wide with lust. The top of your dress barely contains your breasts. The bottom is by your hips, your exposed cunt glistening with his cum. Bucky set the picture as his phone's background. You protested because you looked like a mess. Bucky stopped your arguing with a kiss. "You know what you look like?" He asks, smiling wide as he turned his phone screen toward you. "What?" You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling insecure. "Mine."

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @crimson25 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @lokidokieokie @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @yeaiamme2 @pigeonmama @yeehawbrothers @lokischambermaid @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @queenshu @justsebstan @kcd15

[serial-unaliver]

Say more about what people say here and why you're grateful you were raised that way?

basically a lot of people on here are incapable of understanding they are not the only person struggling on planet earth and it's absolutely ridiculous to defend choices harming people 10000x worse off than you because you may be uncomfortable. "you don't understand, i'm having compassion fatigue and [x] brings me comfort" in response to a boycott is an example. but you can also see this attitude arise when you yourself express an opinion someone disagrees with. if I criticize psychiatry, clearly that means i'm mentally healthy and want innocent neurodivergent tumblr users to suffer. if I say "don't work for a US defense contractor" that means I don't understand the struggles of having a low paid job instead. no one suffers more than commenter #2, and no one else's opinions should be considered.

i'm grateful I was raised to think of people worse off than me rather than say my life is the Worst. everything that happened to me has happened to many other children and not all of them were able to escape the situation and live a normal life like me, because they were in worse circumstances. i'm always thinking, every awful experience i've had is not unique, and I should want to improve the lives of others not as lucky rather than pity myself. WARNING: this mindset will get you canceled on tiktok for saying things like "it comes across as insensitive to complain that your rich parents gave you more money than love in discussions about trauma from poverty" <- i'm never taking that back btw

[yandere-kokeshi]

I remember you posted that you write alien vs predator now, so if possible could you write something about a yandere yautja x chubby!f!reader??? Like maybe she accidentally witnessed some them hunting on earth but as they were going to kill her another yautja grabbed her and ran or fought the others, he’s usually content just watching but she was threatened and he couldn’t stay away…. Or even just headcanons about them and what they’d be like as a partner

Sorry🫣

— Yandere Yautja with a female! chubby mate

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about chubby reader, and yautja stuff.

A/N: I changed it up a bit and decided to write headcanons about having a darling who is chubby. I hope that’s alright :)

In his planet, or rather culture, female Yautja have a naturally larger and masculine build: muscular thighs, fit hands that’ll be thrown at anybody, and a good athletic build. But, since the day he saw you and touched you? He died at the second, and swore to protect you to all the Gods. And ensuring, you’d be his by the end of the night. 

To get it easy — he sees no issue with your size. Generally sees you as a ‘plushy’ and more huggable, there’s nothing wrong with that. 

But if he senses you being sad over your weight, he clicks in annoyance. How dare you insult yourself like that? Within seconds, he hikes you up on his shoulders by one hand, showing you that weight doesn’t mean a thing to him, so nor should you care. 

It’s no surprise that Yautja’s love heat, and your beloved mate sees you as a heat source. He has to be touching you at every given moment, muzzling his face deeper into your belly rolls as you two sleep in. 

Finds your stretch marks remarkable. Scars are a symbol of strength, and are praised highly in the culture and with your lovely Yautja, he views them as a form of scars. 

Handsy to a capitalized H, and doesn’t know a thing of personal space. Your skin is so warm and soft, his paws squishing and handling you is his favorite hobby. Adores the scent you have, and uses your thighs as pillows. 

Generally would love for you to go naked in the house. Nudity isn’t a source of shame in yautja culture, so he’d be confused if he sees you embarrassed. In all, he admires and wishes for the day to come; imagining himself pulling your clothes off, chirping and clicking in excitement as his hand covers your hips and addicting curves. 

Very protective, and whilst that’s guaranteed with his aggressive stance, it’s mustered up a bit because of how gorgeous you are. He’s convinced that if any other ‘ooman, or yautja, sees you – they might get attracted and try to steal you away. He’s ready to fight and tear off limbs if must. Possessive to its finest. 

Treats you with the finest things he can find and cook. He cooks you amazing food, ones that leave your mouth salivating, and wakes you up with breakfast in bed; admiring your sleep figure and messy hair from awakening. 

Loves to dress you up in clothes, especially if it’s in pelts that he hunted for you. Admires looking at you from behind, smiling like he’s made the day, and stares you down like a mad-man. You’re just so cute, ‘ooman.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking. It helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2024 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[useless-catalanfacts]

A day in the life of someone who posts on the internet in Catalan *cue dozens of Spanish people asking "what's wrong with your mouth", ordering him to speak in Spanish or "in Christian", saying he's rude for speaking in Catalan, calling him "polaco" (derogatory Spanish word to mean a Catalan person), calling the Catalan language a dialect, saying he is possessed because he's speaking Catalan, etc*

This is a video by Sergi Mas showing some of the comments he gets on YouTube. He makes videos about mountain biking that he posts on YouTube, TikTok, and Instagram. And the first comment he got on his first YouTube video was already someone telling him he should do it in Spanish.

Some days ago, another creator who posts his videos in Catalan (Joan Sendra, find him on Instagram and TikTok) answered to a Spanish person who was complaining that it's rude to speak Catalan/Valencian on the internet instead of Spanish because then there's people who don't understand you (as if everyone in the world spoke Spanish lmao). Joan, who is tired of getting this kind of comments so often, answered: there are already endless videos and things to watch on the internet in Spanish. In fact, if you look for [the topic he was talking about in the video that this guy commented] all the videos are in Spanish except for mine. And yet you had to come to me, the one in Valencian, and tell me that I can't make a video in my language and that I can only make it in yours. If you don't like it, it's so easy to find another one!

However, it's not a matter of actually being interested in what's being said in a language they don't speak. It's about the imposition of the language they consider superior (Spanish) and telling speakers of the languages whose land Spain had occupied that they are useless and should be ashamed of existing in public. Well, we aren't. Like Sergi's video, don't let the comments disturb your macarrons.

[miumura]

CALLS OF CONVENIENCE⌇P. SUNGHOON ✶

( 📞 ) NOW RINGING » Park Sunghoon, an office worker with an odd knack for finding problems, has been calling you for assistance non-stop to address various issues in his office. Naturally, since it’s your job, you always stop by, but you’ve noticed that his problems are often simple to fix and don’t really require any help. So, it’s hard not to suspect that he’s just making excuses to see you.

Whether it’s a computer “glitch” or a “misplaced” file, Sunghoon’s requests for you seem more like opportunities for a chat than genuine emergencies.

PAIRING ✶ office-worker!sunghoon x assistant-fem!reader GENRE ✶ fluff, co-workers 2 lovers FEATURING ✶ jay from enhypen WARNINGS ✶ reader questions / teases sunghoon quite a bit, super obvious hoon 🫡 WORD COUNT ✶ 2.4K+

PICK UP? » this was inspired by something i had seen on tiktok … bits of it never left my mind since … all credits to it because that fueled me to write !! and i thought it suited him so … no thoughts just office worker sunghoon 🫠

"Hello, it's me again," his voice crackled over the line as you pressed the phone to your ear. You let out a small sigh, recognizing this as the third time he'd called just this week.

"Why, hello, Park Sunghoon."

“Huh—oh! You know it’s me," he said, sounding surprised, though you could hear the smile in his voice.

"You've been the only one calling my work number lately, Sunghoon," you replied. "And considering how many times you've called, it's normal to recognize your voice by now, don't you think?"

"I guess so…" he chuckled nervously. "Well, do you have time to come to my office? I need help."

"Help with what?"

"My computer is acting up—I don’t think it’s working properly. Can you help me, please?"

"Sunghoon," you sighed, glancing at the mounting work on your desk. "This is the third time this week. Are you sure it's not something simple?"

"Yes! I really do need your help," he insisted, a hint of sheepishness in his tone.

"Fine," you relented. "I’ll be on my way."

"Really?" His voice went up a notch, brimming with excitement before he cleared his throat. "Thank you so much, Y/N!"

Shaking your head, you stood up and headed down the hall to his office. As you walked, you couldn't shake the thought that there was no way he could be this unlucky.

When you finally arrived at his office, you knocked on the door and heard Sunghoon's voice from the other side inviting you in. As you entered, you saw him sitting at his desk, pretending to look frustrated with his computer.

“What is it?”

“Well, what a way to say, ‘hello’. Good morning to you too, YN,” Sunghoon replied, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

“Considering how many times I see you in a day, I don’t have to say that all the time when I do.”

Closing the door behind you, you couldn't help but also comment, “You know, you really should call the IT department for tech problems.”

Sunghoon looked up, still smiling. “Why call them when you've been so great at solving my previous issues?”

"Issues, you say?” you replied, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“Of course,” he said with feigned innocence. “I would never call you to my office if I wasn’t genuinely struggling.”

"Like how your computer screen froze? When all you could’ve done was just restart your computer?" you asked, giving him a pointed look.

“I didn’t want to mess up more things, so I had to call you,” Sunghoon replied, his face turning a shade of pink as he fumbled for an excuse. It was just so easy for a confident smile of his to dissolve into embarrassment, as if he didn’t set himself up in the first place.

“Okay then, how about the problem with your printer? When all you had to do was refill the ink?”

“I swear I had it refilled last week,” he protested, glancing away. “I wouldn’t have called if I knew that was really the cause of it.”

“And how about the time—the same day as your printer issue—you said you deleted a really important file?”

“Okay, that was a real problem!” Sunghoon said quickly, recalling the incident. “I really panicked when I couldn’t find it on my screen. And you were all I thought about—well, asking for help, that is! Don’t get it twisted!”

“I never said anything,” you teased, unable to hide your amusement. “And all you had to do was check your ‘Recently Deleted’ folder. There was also another copy of it in your downloads.”

“Okay, none of that matters anymore, it’s all in the past!” he brushed off, trying to direct your attention elsewhere. “What matters is that I wouldn’t have known if it weren’t for your great assistance.”

“You could’ve fixed it easily by yoursel—”

“Why don’t we turn our attention back to my computer, please?” he interrupted, eager to change the subject, his voice carrying a note of pleading.

You walked over to his desk, noticing how he seemed to tense slightly as you came closer. Ignoring that, you leaned over to check the computer, both of you staring at the black screen.

“Well, if you see this,” Sunghoon said, pressing the button multiple times to try to turn on his computer. “It doesn’t work.”

“Can you be more gentle?” you suggested, watching as he awkwardly backed away.

“Right, sorry,” he mumbled. “Can you fix this?”

“Sure, get out of your seat, please.” He quickly complied, moving to stand against the wall near his desk. You tried holding down the button, but the computer still wouldn’t turn on. Feeling a bit puzzled, you started looking around the desk. When nothing seemed amiss, you decided to check under the desk and soon noticed a cable...not plugged in.

Grabbing the wire, you held it out and looked at Sunghoon, who was nervously chuckling. “Oh…it was unplugged the whole time…”

You raised an eyebrow, struggling to keep a straight face. “Well, I suppose that explains it.” You plugged it back in, pressed the button once more, and the screen finally lit.

“Wow, who would’ve thought…” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly burning up.

“Sunghoon,” you said, shaking your head with a teasing smile, “you know you could’ve checked this yourself.”

“Who would go ahead and unplug their own computer?” he mumbled, glancing away from your gaze. “I wouldn’t have done that on purpose or anything…”

“You’re really running out of excuses, aren’t you?”

“What…what do you mean?”

“You just want to see me more, don’t you?”

“I do not! I mean, as much as I do enjoy your company, I wouldn’t play tricks just to see you,” he said, rambling nervously. “You’ve just been a reliable person I can trust with these office issues.”

Not fully convinced, you said, “Well then, now that your ‘issue’ is fixed, I will take my leave.” You started to get up from his chair, about to walk away, when Sunghoon abruptly jolted.

“Wait!”

His sudden outburst startled you, and you watched as he frantically rummaged through his desk drawers, pulling out two overstuffed folders. “Can…can you help me sort these out? I mean, since you’re here, and you’re so good at handling things, it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for you to help me with my work…right?”

He looked at you with hopeful eyes, his usual composure replaced with a hint of desperation. His attempt to maintain a professional demeanor faltered as he fiddled with the papers, clearly trying to cover up his real intentions. You could see through his act, but the genuine earnestness in his voice made it hard to resist.

“Fine, but only because I’m already here,” you said, with a small smile. As you took the folders from him, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was more about the company than the paperwork.

Sunghoon’s eyes lit up slightly as he grinned and quickly got a chair for you. As you both began organizing the chaotic stack of papers, a comforting silence settled in.

“You know, Sunghoon, I’ve always thought of you as an organized person,” you remarked, glancing at the disarray before you.

“Well, I am,” he chuckled, taking your comment as a compliment. “It’s just that I’ve been swamped with meetings lately, so I haven’t had a chance to sort everything out.”

“I don’t know if I believe that,” you hummed, flipping through the papers. “You still would’ve made sure everything was in the right place.”

“Oh…really?” Sunghoon’s voice held a hint of nervousness. “So, you’ve noticed, huh?”

“Am I not supposed to?” you asked with a playful smile. “Aren’t I the assistant you always call for to fix all your issues?”

“Okay, if you think I made this mess on purpose just to keep you around, you’ve got it all wrong!” Sunghoon quickly defended himself, though his flushed face betrayed his words. “And you know me, I wouldn’t torture myself with a mess just to see you.”

“Relax, I was just teasing. Why don’t you work a bit faster then, hm?”

“You don’t have to remind me about my work, YN,” he pouted slightly, eliciting a soft chuckle from you.

He couldn’t help but sneak a few glances at you every now and then, marveling at the way you carried yourself, the subtle expressions you made as you worked—all of it made it difficult for him to concentrate.

To him, you were the prettiest person he’d ever laid eyes on. His eyes would linger on your features—just looking at your focused expression alone was always enough for him to get lost in the moment, or rather, admiring you. And every single time—without a fail—each look would send a flutter of excitement through his chest.

Sunghoon would catch himself in a daze, realizing he’d been staring a little too long again. He'd quickly snap out of it, giving himself a mini pep talk in his mind.

Get it together, Sunghoon. Focus.

He shifted in his chair, trying to redirect his attention to the task at hand, but it was no use. Every time he glanced up, Sunghoon mentally kicked himself for being so easily flustered. It was ridiculous how just being near you turned him into a nervous wreck. His usual confidence seemed to vanish whenever you were around, replaced by a nervous energy that made it hard to concentrate on anything else.

He tried to distract himself by focusing on his work, but his mind kept wandering back to you—how you laughed, the way you rolled your eyes when he said something silly, and the way you seemed to understand him without needing to say much.

Sunghoon knew he was obvious, but he never failed to deny it. Despite the countless times he’d told himself to just say it, he was afraid he’d only continue to humiliate himself even more. Every time he opened his mouth, the words got tangled in his throat, and he’d end up making some excuse instead.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that you might already see through his intentions and were just waiting to reject him once he finally confessed. The thought made his heart race with fear, and it was enough to keep him from doing anything.

But he pushed his many thoughts aside, trying to focus on the task at hand. He shuffled through the papers on his desk, pretending to concentrate. His nervousness lingered in the air, a constant reminder of the tension he felt whenever you were near.

After another moment of silence, he broke it with a hesitant question. “So, YN, what’s your… go-to coffee order?”

“Hm?” you looked up, slightly puzzled.

“Just… curious! Yeah, that’s all,” he said quickly, his voice a bit too casual.

“I don’t see how my coffee order is relevant to your office problems or work,” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, yes, but I thought it might be nice to know,” Sunghoon stammered. “After all, if I’m going to be a bother, I might as well get you something you like. The least I could do is make up for, you know, troubling you.”

“And what if I don’t drink coffee?”

“Huh? I saw you drinking coffee with Jay the other day—”

“Watching me now, are we? That’s a bit unprofessional for a work setting, don’t you think?”

���No, wait! I wasn’t—I just happened to notice you while I was on my break,” Sunghoon rushed to explain. “And asking Jay would’ve been awkward. So—ugh, nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, noticing his flush deepening. He truly couldn’t hide it well.

“Yes, ignore me and continue helping me, please,” Sunghoon replied, the pink blush on his face becoming way more evident than before. Was he that painfully obvious with his tactics?

Either way, he wanted to get out of there—this was becoming too much for him, and his usual ways of calming down weren’t working. You couldn’t help but slip a small giggle at his discomfort.

“Well, I’m actually done now,” you said with a playful smile.

“Wait—already?!” His astonishment was clear as he glanced at his side of the desk compared to yours. His papers were still scattered in disarray, while yours were neatly organized and back in their folder.

“Yep. While you were busy being a nervous wreck with your, well, overwhelming thoughts, I managed to focus and finish up,” you explained, sliding the organized folder back to him.

“Oh, right,” he mumbled, still taken aback by how efficiently you handled the task. He should have anticipated it, considering your ability to get things done swiftly—one of the many reasons he admired you. “Thank you, YN.”

“Do you have anything else you need help with?” you asked, your tone friendly.

“Uh, no, thank you,” Sunghoon replied, his cheeks still burning. He was mortified by the series of blunders he’d made in such a short time, and the embarrassment made him wish he could just disappear. He couldn’t believe he’d made such a mess of things.

“Listen, YN,” he started, sounding unusually earnest, “I’m really sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused. I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries with my questions or requests. And for all the office issues—silly as they might seem—I genuinely appreciate your help. So, um, you can leave now. Thank you again.”

“You don’t need to apologize, Sunghoon. I promise you’re fine,” you reassured him. His expression softened at your words, though he seemed still lost in thought about his mistakes earlier. “You haven’t done anything to make me uncomfortable, and if you had, I would’ve told you.”

As you stood up from the chair and walked toward the door, you glanced back at him. His gaze darted away from the door, though it was clear he was trying to sneak a look as you left.

“Caramel macchiato,” you said.

“Huh?”

“My coffee order,” you clarified. “That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Wait—” Sunghoon’s surprise was palpable. “Oh, oh—! Noted! I’ll make sure to remember!” he stammered.

“See you tomorrow, Sunghoon.” You flashed him a final, warm smile. Despite knowing he’d probably call you again, and he knew you knew, you still left him a bit flustered but smiling. He shyly nodded, silently whispering a thanks to you again.

As you closed the door behind you, you heard him mutter to himself, struggling to regain his composure. You could hear the muffled noises of his excitement and embarrassment as you walked away, and it made you chuckle.

You left his office with your heart lighter and your mind buzzing with the possibility that maybe these calls meant something more. Finally getting the answers to the questions you’d always had in mind, it became clear to you that Park Sunghoon was undeniably charming.

💬 : do we love the flustered!enha agenda or is that js me

ENHYPEN PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[adrienneleclerc]

Jealous

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles gets easily jealous when his girlfriend fawns over her fictional or celebrity crushes

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: all the characters and celebrities mentioned are people I find attractive. If you don’t have a crush on them, that’s fine, to each their own

Y/N and Charles were watching American Assassin because Charles wanted to watch an action movie and he has never seen it.

“Ugh, Dylan O’Brien could get it.” Y/N said and Charles turned so fast to look at her.

“What?” Charles asked.

“Dylan O’Brien could get it, he is so fine, I already thought he was cute as Stiles but as Mitch Rapp? Ooh, so fine, I’d let him choke me.” Y/N said, eating chips and Charles just looks at her. “What?”

“Were you always this unhinged?” Charles asked.

“A little, but have you seen his veiny arms when he was being held at gun point? I wanna bite them.” Y/N said and Charles looked at his arms and back at the screen.

“Mon ange, my arms are veiny, you could bite mine.” Charles said.

“I bite yours all the time when we’re not in public. There’s just something about Dylan O’Brien playing Mitch Rapp that does something for me. Like look at those abs.” Y/N said and Charles immediately retaliated with

“I have better abs than him!” Charles exclaimed, making a point by taking off his shirt and standing next to the TV to compare him and Dylan O’Brien

“Ay muñeco, Im teasing, don’t take it too seriously.” Y/N said, pulling him back to the bed and kissing him.

The next time Charles got “jealous” was when Y/N was on TikTok and she saw a video of The Drivers Era performing.

“Ross Lynch es tan guapo, no wonder when he performed in Mexico, todos le estaban diciendo que se encuere.” Y/N said and Charles was brushing his teeth in the bathroom. Charles poked his head out to see Y/N in bed. “What? Ross is 6’1, our height difference is literally perfect.”

“Are you trying to hurt me, Mon ange?” Charles asked before spitting into the sink.

“Of course not muñeco, he’s just a celebrity crush, it’s not like anything will happen.” Y/N commented.

Then it happened again when Charles and Y/N were out with Pierre and Kika. They saw a movie poster for the ministry of ungentlemany warfare.

“We should see this movie, the trailer looks amazing.” Kika said.

“And so does Henry Cavill, I love how curly his hair is.” Y/N commented.

“Just once I would like to go out and not listen to you talk about other men.” Charles said.

“Whats happening there?” Pierre asked

“Charles gets butthurt when I talk about my celebrity crushes.” Y/N said.

“What do they have that I don’t?” Charles asked.

“Well Ross and Henry are 6 feet tall, Ross plays hockey and I LOVE hockey boys, Henry played field hockey, but you’re taller than Dylan O’Brien, I’ll give you that.” Y/N said and Charles stared at her.

“You weren’t supposed to give me a list!” Charles exclaimed while laughing at how ridiculous this conversation was.

“You literally asked!” Y/N exclaimed. “But I also want to see the movie for Eiza Gonzalez, totally support her making it big in Hollywood.”

“Yes! Loved her in Baby Driver!” Kika said and her and Y/N started talking about movies.

Y/N was watching Supernatural and eating ice cream.

“God I love this episode, he looks so good.” Y/N said. Charles looked at the screen and back at her.

“Really? The Winchester brothers in prison? Isn’t the guy who plays Dean like 50?” Charles asked.

“Um, he’s 46, and he looks good for his age considering he’s white.” Y/N said.

“Cant believe you love Dean Winchester. Why not Sam?” Charles asked.

“I love both Winchester brothers, I just relate to Dean more. And in the later seasons, I don’t like Sam’s hair. But Sam’s hair in season 1 and 2? LOVE.” Y/N said.

“What about my hair?” Charles asked.

“Muñeco, you know how much I love to pull on it when we’re kissing and other stuff.” Y/N says, kissing Charles, running her hands through his hair to make a point, he pulled away.

“Mm, I love when you do that.” Charles said smiling.

“I know you do.” Y/N said, continuing to play with his hair. “There’s no reason to be jealous of my celebrity crushes, okay?“

“I’m not convinced, how about you show me that you’re mine and mine alone.” Charles said, hand wrapped around Y/N’s throat, not applying pressure.

“It would be my pleasure.” Y/N said, holding Charles’s hand to run to their bedroom.

The End

Hope y’all like it!

[darlingghoulette]

blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so

Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.

Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.

Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.

Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go. 

Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe. 

Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.

Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling. 

Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo. 

It was the proverbial straw. 

“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”

Nothing. 

“HEY!”

He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead. 

Silence rang for a beat.

Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range. 

The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him.  “Geez, need attention much?” 

Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?” 

Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.” 

It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.

But, see. That just gave him an idea. 

Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all. 

“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,” 

He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude. 

“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly. 

“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”

It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up. 

“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified.  “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.

“Yeah?” 

“Can you come here?” 

The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.

“You tired?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine--”

“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm. 

There was a countdown, three, two, one...

A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs.  “Dude, what the hell?” 

“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”

“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?” 

Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth. 

“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?” 

Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.

“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.

God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking. 

Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.” 

Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move. 

“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,”  Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them. 

“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”

“Dude, Eddie, noooo!” 

“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.” 

“You guys, let’s just go already,” 

“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,” 

The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together. 

It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.

What can he say? He’s a weak man. 

“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in. 

“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.” 

A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that. 

The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!” 

The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly. 

[ironunderstands]

Ngl I despise stupid ass tweets like this

There is a time and a place for talking about sexualization, but like you cannot be serious.

It’s shorts. She’s wearing shorts. I know part of the reason why her thighs are exposed is because people like to look at thighs, but oh my god. For 5 seconds, 5 goddamn seconds can the people in this fandom not treat women’s bodies like they are some inherent sin? ITS SHORTS.

Based off this tweet you would assume she was dressed like THIS or something (although this one has SOME armor LMAOO)

But not just by hoyo standards, but by normal people standards, Feixiao is wearing a regular outfit, especially considering the climate she lives in is probably fairly warm, and she’s not a normal human being, so all that extra armor wouldn’t be doing much for her anyways.

Hell, this is a universe where shit like the antimatter legion exists, and I’m sorry, but a few pieces of metal really aren’t going to do much against the stuff that Feixiao might be facing, and considering how restricting armor can be, a pilot such as herself would prefer lighter clothing. Honestly if we want to have a discussion about practicality or realism, the flowy/longer parts of the outfit should be the ones under fire, but that’s not the complaints here.

And I get where this person is coming from.

I understand wanting to see an armored lady, especially considering her male counterpart seems to possess that, but this is not the way to approach it at all.

But calling it misogyny? AND SOFT PORN?? SHORTS??

SHORTS

Like do you hear yourself? You sound like a puritan right now? Honestly I’d prefer Feixiao having her thighs out over hearing someone talk about them like they only exist for gooners to gawk at.

Moreover, considering the absolute nightmare that was the copy-past female Luofu designs, I’d say that hers is a breath of fresh air

Also, if you supposedly can’t take a woman seriously because her legs are exposed.. get help dude. Please.

I don’t even think it’s ridiculous to believe that her design is sexualized, especially with the garter, but like, why like this?

Oh, and Jingyuan’s design is sexualized as well, it’s just not through exposed skin. He has a whole ass corset and thigh garter and he’s imposing and has a deep voice and glowy ass eyes and long hair and he stares at the camera in his splashart like That and you get where I am going with this because HES MEANT TO HE HOT TOO. He just has a different kind of appeal

For fucks sake his lightcone literally has him lounging in a chair legs spread eyeing a bird sleepily as the light hits him like that and his face looks like that wand you expect me to believe this game isn’t trying to present him as attractive? For fucks sake he practically has an adoptive son. This is the dilf older man fucker final boss and yet a woman with shorts is what sends you spiraling?

Don’t act like you didn’t see the TikTok comments of people wishing they were his bird when he got released. Or the master stroke jokes? Or everyone and their mothers (literally according to Cyyu) drooling over his EN voice? “I AM the reinforcements?”

If you want to talk about non-sexualized generals and pull up a picture of Jingyuan I will (and currently am) laugh in your face because to be honest more revealing clothing would make him less horny because the uniform is part of the appeal.

I rest my case

[kiwi-on-ice]

Saw your most recent tiktok🤭

Could you do something for Lucio when you get the chance? Please and thank you

First date headcannons with Lucio, Cole Cassidy, Mauga, Lifeweaver, and Genji with gn!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Fluff, a little suggestive but not too much.

Notes: The ask probably meant NSFW but wanted to write something light while i work on an anon request for Cole Cassidy. Prefer girls? check here

Lucio:

I always think of his valentines day voiceline bless him, he'd be quite nervous to ask you out. If you don't do it for him, he'll most likely want to be traditional and get you flowers before stuttering out an invitation.

Once you've actually said yes, he'll relax a little bit.

Most likely your first date is going to be music related. He won't take you to his own concert, but if there's a concert playing music he knows you'll like he'll take you there.

Alternatively, might take you dancing to show off a little. When he's around music, he feels much more confident so he'll be able to be himself and even be a little flirty.

You might have to put up with people coming up to him for his autograph though. But it'll give him a rush when everyone realises he's on a date with you.

After dancing the night away, he'll probably take you to try some street food. He'll insist on paying, he's a celebrity after all! But he ends up not needing to when the vendors recognise him as the hero who stood up to Vishkar and insist on giving you both what you want free of charge.

Given that the weather is nice, he'll do his best to be respectful and not look at your body too much. However if you're wearing shorts...lord have mercy, they're his weakness.

When you guys part ways, he might cheekily ask for a goodnight kiss but he's happy with anything. Considering how much fun you both had, he's confident you two will go out again sometime.

Feeling the beat of the music, Lucio moves like it's second nature to him. You both laughing and joking as he starts to dance with you, his hands respectful in their placement before he spins you around, making you both laugh again.

"Not bad babe, maybe you should be a backing dancer at my shows." he teases playfully, trying not to let his eyes look down at how your legs look in your shorts. Although with the way you start to move, he isn't sure he can resist the temptation.

Cole Cassidy:

Will ask you out pretty smoothly in conversation, hardly giving you time to process that you've been asked on a date before the cowboy starts to think about his ideas.

Invites you on a hiking trail, giving you both plenty of time to talk and get to know each-other.

He'll do the stereotypical action of taking his hat off when he sees you and gives you a small bow, flustering you a little.

As you walk, he won't initiate physical contact for a while, waiting until you guys cross some sort of stream or rough terrain; he use the opportunity to hold out his hand to help you over, before interlocking his fingers with yours.

Quite easy to talk to, and flirtatious comments seem to roll off his tongue without him meaning to. He'll compliment your outfit and hairstyle, before making comments about how the sun reflects so lovely off your eyes.

Prefers asking you questions and listening to you, he's working on being more emotionally vulnerable and open especially about his past, but it's still difficult for him.

Afterwards, you both will have worked up an appetite, so he'll take you to a diner for a bite to eat. Sitting in a booth, he might teasingly play footsie with you under the table to watch you laugh.

He'll have to get coffee, since he hasn't had his cigar for hours. He didn't want to smoke while on the date, a little concerned you'll find it rude. But towards the end he'll get a little twitchy.

Will offer to pay, southern values and all that.

Will also offer to walk you home, and will definitely come in if you invite him.

Approaching a stream, the running water providing a soothing ambiance as Cole steps forward. He hops over the stream before holding out his hand for you, causing you to giggle.

"What? A cowboy can't be a gentleman?" he teases, as you take his hand and he helps you across, "There you go pumpkin."

Smoothly, he interlocks your fingers, holding your hand tight and gently rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand as you both resume the walk. Looking to his left, he makes some remark about the surroundings to distract himself from the warm feeling in his chest as he feels the heat of your palm against his.

Mauga:

This man is CONFIDENT, he asks you out with his cocky grin almost like he knows you'll say yes.

Wants a relaxing date, so will ask you for drinks at one of his favourite bars.

Once you meet him there, he's nothing if not charming. He lays the compliments on pretty thick, with a cheeky smile that gets wider the more you feel flustered.

He's also hilarious, finding it so rewarding to make you laugh and giggle at his jokes. Isn't afraid to play the part of the fool if it means you'll be entertained.

Is hyper aware of his large size, and while he loves feeling bigger and stronger in the bedroom, in this context don't be surprised if he hunches himself over a bit to make you feel more at ease.

Also don't be surprised if he grips his glass too tight to make it smash, pretending to be hurt worse so you'll dote on him, he likes the attention more than he should.

He has to really restrain himself from getting too handsy with you, he doesn't want to scare you off. But he'll brush his hand against your hair or arm as he speaks.

Most likely will just get up and leave without paying lmao.

And will most certainly invite you to go home with him.

"And someone as pretty as you with a guy like me? People will think i'm payin' ya." he says with a laugh, causing your cheeks to burn as you giggle alongside him. Taking a sip of his drink, his eyes won't leave yours. "Someone as small as you as well, though it ain't hard for someone to be smaller than me."

You can't help but agree with his statement as he hunches over the bar with you, his thigh brushing against yours. He notices, and subtly presses his thigh more into yours, almost manspreading on the bar-stool.

Lifeweaver:

oh my god, the ROMANCE.

Listen I've said before he's the type of nerd to read romance novels and take notes, best believe he's planning the most romantic date he can, especially if he's caught feelings for you.

He'll show up, dressed to the nines with a bouquet of red roses with gold string attaching a little love note and hand them to you. He'll kiss your hand and open the car door for you and drive you to a lovely restaurant.

Most likely booked ahead to score the best table, and told the waiters to make it as romantic as they could.

But despite everything, he's secretly nervous. He planned it all so meticulously in his head, what if it goes wrong?

Not that you'd know his internal panicked monologue with how he treats you, he'd be so complimentary without overdoing it. Charming you with speech about your clothes, hair, everything. Will also start to drop in petnames like 'darling' and 'petal' to see how you react.

Is a little scared to hold your hand cause his hand is a little sweaty from the nerves, so he'll gently trace your fingers with his metal hand instead.

He's paying for the meal, you''ll have probably have guessed that already.

Will take you home and kiss your cheek, but will most likely leave it there. He doesn't want you to think he only wants you physically, so he'll be as respectful as possible.

"Well i assure you, you're the most radiant person in here." Niran says with a soft smile, his eyes tracing up and down your body and face as you sit down. His hair half up, he places his metal hand on the table, gently nudging your hand as if to ask permission.

"But please, order anything you'd like. My treat." he says, almost stuttering when you hold his hand, the cool metal refreshing against your touch. When you thank him and look down at the menu, he releases a breath he didn't realise he was holding. It's going well so far, he thinks, even if he's blown away by how you look all dressed up.

Genji:

bless him, he's also kinda nervous. He used to be a playboy, he never once used to be bothered with asking people out. But after his accident, now that his body is mostly metal, a lot of his confidence has been knocked.

But he'll try to hide it as he suggests an aquarium date. He finds the colours and the marine life quite therapeutic and calming, and hopes you'll feel that way too.

Prefers to stay away from the crowds, standing by the less popular exhibits to talk to you.

Will love to ask about your job, especially if it's more 'mundane' than his. He'll want almost a taste of the normality, something he's never really had in his life.

Will offer to take your picture against the backdrop of the fish tanks, his chest feeling fuzzy as he sees how gorgeous you look.

As you two explore, he'll gently go to hold your hand. When you reciprocate, he won't let go, clinging to your hand like a lifeline.

When you go into the gift shop, he'll surprise you by buying a soft plush toy of a fish or shark behind your back.

Most likely will ask if you want to go back to his, not realising how it sounds until after he's said it, to which he'll quickly reassure you he doesn't expect anything to happen.

"Oh look at those." you say excitedly, tugging him over to the jellyfish exhibit. He of course follows wherever you lead him, his hand firmly gripping yours.

"Here, let me take a picture." he offers, taking your phone and stepping back to get a good angle. You pose, and he swears he stops breathing when he sees your through the phone camera. He has to look at you above the device, mesmerised by how the blue hues reflect on your face.

"Genji? Have you taken the picture?"

[snailpebbles]

First View - LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x streamer! reader

Summary: Lando stumbles into your stream as your only viewer and decides he'll stay for a bit. Or forever. *This will be a series! hopefully!*

wc: 1.4k

tags: straight fluff, love at first sight IM SORRY, Lando is horrendously down bad, reader is just vibing

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊🍊˚ 🧡୨♡୧ ⋅🔸˚₊‧꒰ა🟠໒꒱ 🍊‧₊˚

Lando was bored. He’d just flown back to Monaco after the Belgian Grand Prix, electing to wipe the entire thing from his mind like usual. Max was busy, instagram is dry, and tiktok has long since lost its luster. After doom scrolling for a prolonged amount of time he decides to go to hell with it and open Twitch. He hadn’t opened the app in months; not since his last stream. He should probably get back to that..nah. 

Once opened he’s met with the usual flurry of same old same old, and the bored begins to creep up on him once more. Until he stumbles upon a streamer with zero viewers and potentially one of the most gorgeous faces he’s ever seen. As he clicks on the window and your face is brought to fill a decent size of his screen, Lando realizes he is now truly in the presence of what must be an angel. Sure your camera is absolute shite and you’re doing nothing; staring at your phone as your game sharing screen is black, but he knows he’d be content watching for hours.

You stay silent for a little longer until you glance up, making Landos rapid heart come to a full stop as you meet his eyes unintentionally. You’re absolutely captivating he realizes, even more so when you freeze and awkwardly laugh upon noticing your lone viewer. As you shyly wave and fix the seemingly handmade blue beanie on your head Lando makes a quickfire decision that he’ll just stay here. Forever. With you. 

“Uhm..hello?” You start awkwardly, clearing your throat as you turn your phone off. Internally he curses himself for not switching to a different account, now he can’t type without giving away his identity. Damnit. “Sorry, I’ll actually start playing something now!” The laugh that bubbles from you fills his heart and rings in his mind akin to wedding bells. Wow, he’s down bad. 

He watches curiously as you disregard the games on your desktop and open a new tab, typing in…CoolMathGames? Huh? 

“This is some hardcore gaming if you ask me.” You mumble, shitty laptop microphone making your voice all crackly. He doesn’t care, you sound angelic to him. You load up Papa’s Cupcakeria to reveal a level thirteen save. A smile spreads across his lips at how insanely adorable he finds this to be. 

Once you begin playing Lando takes the chance to analyze a new side of you. As you play you squint, so maybe you need glasses or that singular light isn’t enough for you? Your lips purse when you concentrate and he’s overwhelmed with the need to kiss their chapped state. While you wait for the orders to come through you chew on your bottom lip, digging into the soft flesh there unknowingly. Lando notices, of course he does, and now the little imperfections he can barely make out make a little more sense. How often do you do this and would you let him kiss it better? 

Jesus Lando get a grip.

He stays on your stream for awhile, chin resting in hand as he listens to the silly games music and your quiet comments and cheers of success whenever you get a ‘perfect’ on icing. Never once has he felt so..comfortable. It’s like you’re a salve for all the stress he’s felt over the past season, disentangling his nerves with every lopsided grin and huff of a laugh. It’s obvious to him that you’re hyper aware of his presence, ironic considering his own peaceful state. 

After going up three more levels and a whole lot of not so silent cursing at customers with annoyingly long orders, you hesitantly speak to him.

“Uhm, I’m gonna be heading off now..? Thank you for sticking around for so long though!” He feels butterflies erupt in his stomach as you speak directly to him, your one man audience that’s embarrassingly enamored by your soft-spoken words and pixelated face cam feed. That feeling is quickly replaced by an overwhelming dread once he remembers he hasn’t said anything! At all!

How does he be suave? Cool? What is the one chat he could send that’ll make you visibly swoon and instantly feel how he does?

Hey! Super cool stream, would love to see some more haha! 

Oh my God what was that!? 

“Thank you..that’s really sweet.” You smile at him and he feels like the Sun has just finally shined down on him, blessing him with warmth. “I’ll make sure I stream tomorrow, just for you.” You promise, winking smoothly at the camera. Sure it lags and your voice comes through choppily, but Christ he’s never felt so giddy. Not since Miami at least. 

The stream cuts off and unfortunately for him, doesn’t save. Now he feels cursed, staring at the empty screen like you’ll magically stream once more and provide that safe haven again. He reluctantly closes his laptop after following you and turning on notifications, no longer caring about the repercussions for doing so on his public persona account. 

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊🍊˚ 🧡୨♡୧ ⋅🔸˚₊‧꒰ა🟠໒꒱ 🍊‧₊˚

The next day comes and every notification has Lando on edge. On multiple occasions he’s tripped over himself trying to reach his phone only to see some pity attempt from the F1 admin needing content. 

He leaves them on read like almost every other driver.

Towards the end of the night, it finally happens. With an excited grin he clicks on the notification, heartbeat speeding up as your face appears in the bottom of the laptop screen. You laugh as you seen your viewer count instantly tick to ‘1’ and wave. 

“Well hi..I’m assuming this is the same dude from last time?” A smile spreads across your face and you glow, fixing that same stupid beanie on your head even though it’s definitely too big for you. 

Yep, just me. Promise i’m not a creep!

Was that stupid? Creepy? Lando manages to fully panic in the two seconds of lag time it takes for your answer to come through.

“Alright..Lando? I’m going off your user here.” As you speak you load up the same game as last time, starting a new day. “Any particular reason you’re watching me, a rando, stream a game on a kids learning site?” 

It’s too dumb to say that you’re comfortable like a hug, or make him feel all gooey and warm inside with a simple flash of that pretty smile. It’s too forward to type how he thinks you’re the most beautiful existence yet, or that he couldn’t go on living without basking in your presence for at least a little. 

you’re a good streamer, very nice

Nice? That’s the best he could do? Christ this is horrible, you’re going to frown and he'll crumble to the floor never to be seen again-

“That’s really good to hear, hopefully you’ll keep feeling comfy.” You chuckle, taking his words to heart as a simple compliment instead of what they are: a bumbling love confession. “I’ll just be doing the same thing, but I can talk if you’d like..? Sorry, very new to this.”

do what you want, comfort streamer

Well that was cheesy and embarrassing, what if he weirds you out? You seem happy though, smiling brighter and even through the pixels he can see your subtle fidgeting. Maybe this won’t be too bad, as long as he chills the fuck out.

You continue playing, this time talking with him about everything and nothing. College, your classes, that one asshole in third, how disgusting fish is (this made him fall hard), and the intricacies of dating. Lando believes he was a tad obvious on that one, but after confirming that he’s the same age as you and not some creepy old dude or whatever, you seem to be reciprocating just a little. Or maybe he’s delusional.

Max would say the second one, even after everything. 

Eventually you do have to go, but promise to stream again soon and tell him all the gossip that's sure to happen after your sister's wedding. The screen goes black once more, you having gained five levels in the time you two had spent talking the others ear off. He sits back in his chair with a goofy grin, feeling like he’s well and truly relaxed. You’d gotten all shy when he’d mentioned how comfortable you’d felt to him. Like a soft pillow were his exact words, ones he agonized over for ten minutes afterwards in strict embarrassment even as you giggled. 

He’d wait as long as you like, internally promising himself to never miss a stream and keep you as his newest haven. Him as your biggest supporter and you as a warm beacon of calm. 

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊🍊˚ 🧡୨♡୧ ⋅🔸˚₊‧꒰ა🟠໒꒱ 🍊‧₊˚

a/n: okay so this will be multiple parts, pinkie promise! I love them a lot even though I didn't get to show much of them much this chapter smh.

[mrsmandalorian]

burning love

-- angst one shot jackson!joel miller x f! reader

summary: a secret affair goes a little too far.

main masterlist / word count: 7.8k

warnings: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied, outbreak!AU, CHEATING, spoilers to TLOU season 2, age-gap relationship, angst!, smut!!!, p in v, fingering, nipple play, sexual teasing, a lot of making out, use of words like pussy, cock, pet names ( baby, baby girl, angel), language, burning building, intense near-death situation.

a/n: howdy loves! this story comes from many places of inspiration from the new season 2 picture to the many fics and tiktoks of the voice memos from "calls" of pedro. i hope you guys all enjoy it! leave me a like, comment, or reblog to show your love. much love to you all - maddie!

The winter snow was finally drying up as the town of Jackson prepared for warmer months. Business in the sewing shop started to slow down a little more since people tended not to care as much for the holes in their clothes in warmer weather. You found more time to catch up on your romance novels and daydreaming. The time was also filled with making alterations to your soon-to-be wedding dress. You were finally set to have an official wedding with your husband, Tripp. You both had considered each other married a long time ago. 

You and Tripp had been from a small town in Kansas. Your families were neighbors and fought together for the first fifteen years of the apocalyptic world. You both were only thirteen years old when the world went to shit. Your parents had always set you two up to marry one another. All you knew was Tripp; he was your first kiss, sex, boyfriend, and now husband. You each had to risk your lives for one another at a time or two. He was always there for you like a good man should be for his wife.

The two of you ended up in Jackson after five years of being on your own after your families had gotten infected or passed away from natural causes. Your families were doomsday preppers that had been right about the world. They had turned your neighborhood into a safe place. You and Tripp had stayed in Kansas for two years until the Raiders came. Luckily, Tripp had seen them early, and you could escape with many supplies. 

Once escaping, the two of you survived another six months, savaging around for a safe place to lay your head. Sadly, some raiders had caught up with you. Tripp had saved your life from becoming their little toy, but he was severely injured. The infection from the wound had almost killed him. The memory of those days was the most terrifying time of your life. You would be left alone in this lonely, broken world. You were a strong woman. You could make it out there for a while, but you knew you would give up hope.  You had almost entirely given up as a group of strangers came riding up on horses to the little house that you had dragged Tripp’s incapacitated body to. The riders went through the house with guns and masks covering half of their faces. You wept as you begged them not to kill you or your husband. He was not infected. You had screamed as they pushed a gun up to his head. 

The woman in the group had pulled down her mask, making you less intimidated. She told you she believed you and would help you—only if you would help her. She had seen your supplies and knew you had to have more somewhere. You told her where your childhood neighborhood was and where they could find more supplies if there were any. 

Maria had taken you and Tripp into their small town of Jackson and cared for you both. Luckily, Tripp was fully recovered, and both had been given a beautiful place to call home with all the usual life amenities and jobs to occupy your time. 

Tripp had taken a job working in many roles and worked himself up to join the Jackson council. He was brilliant for his age and wanted to help others, especially those who saved their lives. He cared to see this place flourish and play a significant role in the community while you liked your small role and tasks and enjoyed the comfort of your cozy home. 

After a year of living in Jackson, Tripp decided to make things official with you. He had gotten everything organized with the help of the ladies in town. They had found a beautiful wedding gown for you and wedding bands customized for the two of you. 

You would have never dreamed of having an everyday life after the world went to shit—the dream of enjoying your novels with a warm fire and not worrying about your next meal. Your life was near perfect with your fantastic husband.

As you got comfortable in this new life, you realized that your love for Tripp was not what you read in your books. You both came together at night to the same bed, sometimes ending in an intimate moment. It felt like a chore. Everything started to feel like a chore with him, but he’s all you have ever known and cared for. He was so good and loyal to you that you thought wrong for not feeling the same. You were comfortable with him. 

Three months after coming to Jackson, a patrol group returned from savaging and visiting your childhood neighbors. Maria’s husband, Tommy, was one of the groups Tripp had introduced you to that evening, along with a few others, including Tommy’s brother, Joel.  

At your first impression of Joel, you were scared of the gossip Maria had told you once when you went to her house. His facial expression and personality did not help make you more comfortable with him. From what you could see and hear, he was a dangerous, angry man with a past. 

 You met his daughter, Ellie, in the sewing shop one day as she brought in some of her and his clothes that had holes. She spoke highly about her father figure and told you how hard he had it. Her words made you sympathetic to him, so you kept an eye on him. 

Joel did notice your eye on him. He kept one on you as well. He had learned your routine along with your soon-to-be husbands so he could spy on you without worrying about being seen. He finally got the courage to face you after Ellie complained that her favorite jacket didn’t fit her as well anymore, and she didn't have time to go to the sewing shop. 

Joel took the chore for himself because he would get to see you. The interaction was the most awkward conversation ever. You had noticed him enter the shop without saying anything. You sat at the window with your eyes glued to the words of your smutty book, but your focus was on the man holding clothes at the counter, waiting for him to make the first move.  

“Hello, I brought some of Ellie’s clothes to be altered if that’s okay.” He shyly grumbled under his breath, which he couldn’t catch. He tried hard not to stare at you too long where you sat reading one of your books that you always had your nose into. He went to the library after you returned some books once and read a few chapters. He was jealous of Tripp of what he was reading, wondering if you were getting ideas for the bedroom from these stories. He thought about those ideas a lot as well but with you. 

You had finally gotten your nose out of your book and helped him with his armload of clothes. You awkwardly gave him an estimate of the time you would need and tried not to stare into his big brown eyes too long. You both only exchanged a few words, and then he left. The tension in the room was something you had never felt before. You almost felt embarrassed by how Joel’s appearance made you feel as you stumbled on your words, and your hands slightly shook as you took the clothes and handed him a receipt. 

Joel also felt embarrassed about not speaking to you as much as he wished. He turned into a shy, blushing guy when it came to you. You were the most natural, beautiful person he had met in a long time. He could feel the warmth that you only shared with a few. The two of you were more similar than you would think, but you were still good, and he was terrible. 

Your heart stung a little when Ellie showed up a few days later to pick up her clothes. You had dressed up nicely that day, finally giving yourself the courage to speak to Joel Miller. You had even hidden the small ring Tripp had given you long ago in the pocket of your jeans as you heard the bell ring on the door. 

After Ellie left, you cursed yourself and placed the ring back onto your left hand. How could you think of another man that way and hurt a man who loves you as much as Tripp did? Your guilt from the action had driven you into bed with Tripp that night as you tried to make your thoughts of Joel disappear and fall back into love with your soon-to-be husband. The plan had worked until you were on the way to your shop and saw Joel Miller waiting outside the door waiting on you. 

You slowly went to the shop and breathed deeply to calm your nerves. “Good morning, Joel. Ellie picked up her clothes yesterday.” you quickly muttered to him as you unlocked the shop door. He stepped aside nervously and to get out of the way of the door. You go inside, but his foot catches the door before it closes behind you. You look to meet his eyes quickly. 

“I know. I came to see if you could help me with a present,” he replied quickly as you held eye contact, which made you lightly blush as you looked away. 

“Sure,” you muttered, moving out of the way to let him inside the shop. “Yeah, I can probably help. Who's the present for?” you asked as you turned away and felt his presence following to the back of the shop as you set down your bags. You felt a little touched and excited that Joel brought you something to help him with. 

Joel runs his hands together nervously, too occupied watching to answer your question. He shook himself out of his daze as he met your beautiful eyes. “Oh, it’s for Tommy and Maria for the baby,” he answered and looked around the store at some of the projects you had up for trade. 

“Well, I sewed some smaller blankets and toys the other week, which would be perfect for a little babe,” you quickly answered and rushed over to the dedicated section of the shop for children. “I crafted her a good number of outfits for my present, but I think this neutral blanket would be perfect.” 

He follows you and glances at your incredible craftsmanship. He ran his thick fingers over the soft fabric of the blankets, accidentally touching your hand as you reached for the blanket you described to him. Your hands didn't jerk away but had a quiet moment of your eyes meeting. Your suppressed thoughts came rushing through your mind from the contact, along with Joel’s fantasy from your smutty books. You quickly pull your hand away as you grab the blanket for him and walk swiftly to the counter.

“I could gift wrap this blanket for you as well,” you offered as you set the blanket on the counter and glanced at the broad man. He seems lost in thought as he looks through the other clothing offered at the shop. 

Joel thought of things to bring up as he glanced through the clothing. He stopped and saw a familiar shirt in the racks that looked like one of Sarah’s favorite shirts. He ran his large hand over his face to shield his emotions from anyone's view. 

You stood at the counter and watched his expression fall before he covered his face. Your curiosity and worry made you instantly frown at the thought of a distraught Joel. He continued to browse the shop as you wrapped the gift, keeping a close eye on him. He eventually strolled back up to the counter, still looking deep in thought and full of emotion on his brows. 

“I got everything wrapped for you,” you offer him a gentle smile and walk around the counter to hand him the decorated present. His hands gently take the present from your hands as they gaze at each other; the emotion on his face pains you. You inadvertently held onto his hand and met his eyes. “Joel,” you mutter quickly, “I just wanted you to know if you need anyone to talk to about anything. Before, after, or current events. I’m here for you.” 

Joel’s eyes were full of desperation and raw emotion. His heart in his chest dropped into his stomach. He had to tell himself to catch his breath as he struggled to speak. “Thanks,” he nodded quickly as he met your eyes. His thoughts were racing through his mind as your hand remained on his. 

You nervously bite your lip as you slowly remove your hand from his calloused one. Joel nodded his head to say farewell. Once, he reached the other side of the door and took a deep breath. He caught himself smiling on the way back home. 

For you, the awkward ending to the conversation made you worried that you tried too hard and scared him away. The interaction was on your mind for the rest of the day and the rest of the week. 

It took Joel four days to get the courage to show his face inside the shop again. He went inside after seeing Tripp go into the council meeting, which usually lasted an hour or two. He stepped into the shop with light footsteps, heading straight to the counter. You walked out of the back, not hearing the doorbell. You had your wedding dress in hand, stopping dead in your tracks as you saw Joel Miller waiting for you. “Oh, hello, Joel. I didn’t hear you come in,” you scramble around and lay down your dress on the other side of the counter. “What can I help you with today?” 

He gives you a slight smile as he watches you scramble. “ Um, I just came in to accept your offer,” he nervously says, wiping his hands on his jeans. The rest of the interaction was the best conversation you have ever had. The conversation started with many nerves, but once he sat down with you to enjoy coffee. He had opened up to you as you did with him. The two of you ended the conversation with a plan to do this again soon. 

It was sooner than you thought when he came strolling into the shop three days later with free pastries in hand. Meeting twice a week became the new norm for you two. You had never told Tripp about these secret meetings with Joel in the shop. It was all innocent…until it wasn’t. 

The tone of your relationship with Joel changed one evening as he helped you move some racks in the store. You had accidentally hit your head on the pole of the rack. Both laughed well, but Joel got to your level to check out the goose egg. The interaction moved slowly, eyes meeting as you both smiled big at the accident. The proximity of your faces made you catch your breath, mainly because of the growing tension. Before you know it, his warm lips met yours. Neither of you pulled away, letting your hands meet his face's sides. The kiss was the most passionate kiss you had experienced. 

After a few moments, you jerked your lips from his and stood up quickly as you hit your head again. You let out a groan of agony and rubbed your head, “I’m so sorry. We shouldn’t have done that,” you muttered as he helped you up. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he uttered as his concerned eyes met yours. “Is your head okay?” 

“You didn’t upset me at all. It was very nice. I, um, I don’t know. My head’s fine.” you giggled nervously and rubbed your goose egg on your head. He quickly found a plastic bag and ice to assist you with your injury. The silence spoke volumes as you both danced around each other and the kiss. 

“I thought it was nice too. I’m sorry that I did it. I won’t do it again,” he pleaded as he started to get all his stuff together to leave. You quickly moved your way to him and laid a hand over his. 

“Joel,” you muttered, nervously biting your lip as you cupped his cheek. Your eyes met his, and your lips met again as well. This kiss was a little more chaotic as his large hands met your hips. The passionate scene began as he pulled you in him and leaned you against the small table as he took control of the kiss. Your breathing was in unison as you hungrily groped at one another. 

After a few moments, you pulled away and touched his chest. “No one can know,” you yelled out as he eased off of you. 

He nodded, keeping his large hand on your hips as he pulled you into one more peck. “You don’t know how long I have dreamed of your lips,” he mutters against your lips and gives you one more peck for good measure. 

His comment makes you blush as you think the same thoughts as the two of you who have grown closer to one another. “I’m serious, Joel. Not even Ellie can know of this. And no feelings either. I’m getting married in less than a month. It has to end before that,” you sternly say as you gesture between them. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he grumbles as he pulls off of you and collects his stuff after seeing that the sun is about to set, which means Tripp will return from patrol soon. “Our little secret,” he winks at you with a smirk. 

You teasingly roll your eyes at the broad man as he heads towards the door. “See ya later, Joel.” You let out as he gives you a wave and a wink. You sit at the little table and shake your head as you start blushing at the memories. The guilt was starting to set in, but the excitement of the thrill coexisted. 

The subsequent few interactions with Joel happened inside the shop when Tripp had gone out to patrol or into a meeting. Only a little happened besides the make-out session with slow hands. You would talk about how you were feeling or the memories in the conversation. 

The first time you two had decided to take your secret relationship to the next level, you had to be planned out, not in the romantic sense, but in the privacy sense. Joel’s naughty, sweet nothings had made you want to wait until you could fully enjoy your pleasures with one another instead of a few quickies. 

After breakfast in the dining hall, you sat with Tripp and his patrol group as they discussed plans for their two-day savaging trip, which they would take up to a region they hadn’t explored recently. Families had given them requests for specific supplies and to watch for anything wedding-themed. 

Your quick eye contact with Joel as everyone prepped their horses for the trip sent a shiver down your spine. Your legs squeezed together in anticipation of lying with your secret lover. 

Tripp had pulled you into a loving hug and quick peck as he pledged to see you soon, hopefully with a surprise. The caring remarks squeezed your gut with guilt as you returned the loving looks, even if they were semi-fake. 

Joel had disappeared before the horses left the gate, heading home to avoid making your plan too apparent to others. After poking around town for an extra fifteen minutes, you made your way down the street of homes with your hands full of a fake decoy of clothes that you might be delivered to someone. Only a few people wandered the streets at this hour. 

Relief radiated from you as you stepped onto Joel’s doorstep's old wood. As you slipped inside, you knew the door was unlocked. The house was a comfortable temperature to discard your coat. You heard loud footsteps upstairs as you made your way up them. “Joel, I’m here,” you quietly announced. 

His broad frame slips from what you would guess was his room, and he is wearing only an undershirt and his jeans. Seeing his large muscles and chest peeking out of the short-sleeved shirt made you turn red like a tomato. He looked sexier this way (which you didn’t think could be possible). “Well, hello there, gorgeous,” he says as his large hands find their familiar rhythm on your hips, pulling you closer to his toned body. 

“I’m nervous,” you quickly admit to him as you chew on your lip. His eyes watched as your teeth sucked your lips with desperation, darkening from his thoughts.  “I’ve only been with one person, and we could be doing everything wrong,” you joke nervously. His thumb runs against your cheek as he cups your face. 

“You’re going to be just fine, angel. I’m going to teach you a thing or two, I bet,” Joel whispers against your lips as he lands his plush lips against yours. 

You quickly pull away, looking up at him. “Well, I’m ready whenever you are.” The nerves were getting the best of you as you wanted it to end. 

“Slow down, angel. You are supposed to enjoy the foreplay. Do you know what foreplay is?” He asks as he pushes your body more against the wall. 

“Of course I do. My books discuss foreplay, but I’ve always been too nervous to ask Tripp about it. I usually just touch Tripp a little and spit on my hand to wet myself and him, then we fuck.” You explain the way of your everyday sex life. It was all you knew how it went in the real world; your smutty books seemed like fantasy to the realism of your bedroom time. Tripp didn’t know of the dirty little books you were reading. 

Joel chuckles as his large thumb runs against your partially opened lips, towering over you with a hungry look in his eye. The weeks of intimate make-outs and slow hands have worked up the anticipation. He is pulling you into a passionate kiss, holding you against the wall. One hand cupped and kept your face still; the other pressed against the wall above your head, enclosing you against the wall. 

He nibbles on your lower lip, pulling on your lip until you let out a moan and distracting you from the work of his hands as they move down your body. “So many things to teach you, angel. You look mighty beautiful today,” he whispers against your lips as his fingers gaze at the edges of your dress, causing goosebumps to spread over your body. “I know we already discussed boundaries and safe words, but I want to hear it from you again.”

You were so caught up in the tension and his wandering hands that you nodded your head along with what he said while you processed it. “Oh, um, yellow means uncomfortable. Red means stop,” you mumble to him as your cheeks glow red. 

“Good girl,” he groans as his fingers go up the skirt of your dress, running against your thighs full of goosebumps. He uses his pointer finger to run across your mound, “someone’s excited for this to happen.” He smirked as his dark eyes held heavy eye contact as he watched your reactions to his touch. 

You let out a shaky breath as you try to untense your body. He started to kiss down your neck, which caused you to lean your head to the side. His worn face and kisses and nibbles cause you to let out a light moan against him. His fingers tease you as you push your hips into his palm. 

“Let’s move to the bedroom, beautiful,” he whispers against your skin as he gropes your ass. You nod in agreement because you can’t use your words. 

He guides you into his clean bedroom. The bed looks like it was quickly made after he got up this morning. Sunlight peeks through his blinds, lighting the room well. He guides you to the edge of the bed, where his fingers find the zipper of your dress. He meets your eyes for approval and a dirty, smug look. 

The anticipation of seeing you naked has been itching at Joel for weeks. His fingers delicately unzip you from your dress, leaving you in your undergarments. They were nothing special, but the look on Joel’s face would make you think that you had the sexiest Victoria's Secret lingerie on. Your cheeks turned a new shade of pink, and he asked quickly for consent to continue his work. He palms at your clothed breast gently, then gradually becomes more aggressive. You let out small sounds of pleasure as he works at your breast. He leans in to kiss you sweetly, continuing down to your neck and chest. He licked and kissed down your neck to chest, fingers finding the clasps of your bra.

You started to feel the guilt of not pleasuring Joel. You ran your hand up to cup his face, which caused him to look desperate, giving you a second of control. You ran your fingers through his hair and pulled slightly as his fingers finally opened your bra. It fell down your shoulder; he pulled it wholly off your chest. The cold air contact made you whimper, making Joel’s desperate eyes change to a more dominant dark look. 

He takes control quickly, setting you down on the bed. He pulls your legs through your panties and starts to kiss your breast, groping the other as he works. His clothed hips sat against yours as you lay on the edge of the bed. His hardened member pulsing against your core, your hands nervously find their way down to him. You rub him through his jeans as you think of a dirty idea. 

You wrap your naked body around him, “Will you flip me on top, baby? I wanna try something,” you whimper out to him, which causes him to grin like a villain. He quickly flips and takes his shirt off. 

“Do you want me to take my jeans off? They might be a little uncomfortable to sit on,” he quickly says as he doesn’t lean back yet onto the bed. His hands grip your waist to support you, looking up to you for a response. 

“No, keep them on,” you mumble back with a light blush. You had never taken control of anything in the bedroom; your dirty thoughts were finally answered. You perched your slit right on top of his clothed member, which caused Joel to let out a shaky breath. He could not keep his eyes off your body and face, smirking like the luckiest man in the world. 

You grind your hips against his clothed half, letting out a slight moan from the contact. His hands grip your ass as you continue. The contact from the jeans on your bare pussy was more intense than you thought. You continued to grind until you lost control for a few. Joel sat back and enjoyed watching you pleasure yourself on him.

“Maybe take your jeans off,” you blushed after enjoying yourself. You sat up for him to take them off, helping him unbuckle himself. You gawked at the size of him through his white underwear, swallowing hard as you nervously thought of how he would fit inside of you. He pulls his jeans off, leaning up to meet you in a passionate, messy kiss and holding your naked body against his. 

“Look how wet you are for me, baby girl,” he mumbles against you as he pulls up the crotch of his jeans. The sign of your pleasure makes him more horny and want to show you more pleasure. He enjoys the sight of the bright blush and tries to hide your face as you giggle from him, calling out the wetness of his jeans. “I think I want to see for myself,” he bites his lip as he gently sets you on your side beside him. His fingers run up your thighs and gently spread your legs apart as you twist onto your back. You slowly allow him to spread your legs, admiring all of you. “Jesus, baby, soaking wet for me.” 

He runs over your pussy lips with his large fingers, stimulating your clit with his other thumb. He smirked as you squirmed from the sensation, arching your back slightly. He continues to tease your sensitive exterior until you beg him for more. Between shaky breaths and moans, you met eyes with Joel as he smirked down at your pleasure, seeing him palming himself from your noises.  

Joel finally reached up to your lips as you sucked on his fingers for a few moments, which caused him to let out a groan as you made flirty eye contact with him. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and slowly inserts them into your wet sensitive pussy. Your hand finds the sheets quickly as you moan for Joel. He starts a deep rhythm into you as his thumb works your clit. He whispers sweet nothings to you as he admires your current state. You grind yourself against his motions, which causes more intense pleasure. 

“Fuck, Joel, I think I’m gonna cum,” you let out a desperate cry as you were confused by the new pressure Joel was showing you. You had touched yourself to your fantasies and done it to yourself, but this was much different (and better). 

“You think? Has a man never made you cum?” he asks with a smug look as he continues to pleasure you, inserting another finger as you cry in pleasure. You shake your head no to him as your hands find your pebbly nipples and run your fingers across them. Joel watches you intensely grind against him and play with your nipples. He could almost cum in his pants from the sight. Your shaky breath and hip motions increase as he continues to finger fuck, “You got it, baby girl. Being such a good girl for me. Cum on my fingers,” he praises you until you let out a sharp yelp of pleasure and came on his fingers. 

You throw yourself onto the mattress as you try to catch your breath. “Holy shit,” you mumble and look up to Joel as he slowly pulls his fingers out of your glossy pussy. He brings his wet fingers to his mouth and licks one clean with a moan of pleasure. 

“Such a good girl. You taste as good as I thought,” he says as he smirks, cleaning you off his fingers. 

Your eyes wander down to his package, and you bite your bottom lip at the sight of his throbbing member. You reach your hand up to him, leaning forward. You take his long shaft into your hand and palm him gently. Joel’s head throws back from the contact, groaning in pleasure. 

Everything moves quickly from this moment on. You help Joel take his underwear off and pump his pre-cum leaking cock. You lean over and give his tip a dramatic kiss as you look up to meet his dark eyes. You eventually guide him inside your mouth for a few moments to give him a little loving. 

He lets out a loud moan as he grips your hair, as you use your mouth to please him immensely. You pull off of him with a prominent chin on your face, which he cups and gives you a messy kiss. Before you know it, he flips you onto your knees, and he is behind you now. He gropes at your breast, and his sizeable naked cock grinds against your ass. “Are you ready, angel?” he asks as he leans you up to each other and waits for your response. 

“Yes, Joel, more than ready,” you giggle to him as your legs shake in anticipation. One of his large hands wraps around the hip to your front, holding you against him. He lined up their bodies, inserting his thick head into you. Your head throws back in pleasure as he slowly inserts himself fully into you. “Joel, fuck,” you let the whimper as you let your body fall against his as he starts to thrust slowly into you. 

“Are you okay, baby?” he asks into your ear as he slows his actions for your response. 

“You're so big, Joel, but you feel so good,” you breathly moan at him, grinding your hips into his thurst. 

“You're taking me so well, baby girl. Feels so good,” he groans in pleasure as his grip on your hips tightens, thrusting deep. 

The intimate fucking lasted until nightfall, with many orgasms occurring. At the end of the moment, Joel and you are lying on your backs, trying to catch your breath as you giggle with one another. 

“That was better than I could ever imagine, baby girl. ,” he says as he holds you close and kisses your neck. You giggled and wrapped your arms around him, rubbing your breasts against him. 

Joel helped you wash off and prepare to go home for the night. The interaction was friendly and a promise to continue to see each other in the morning to fuck again. The following day was full of more pleasure and many, many orgasms. 

Tripp came home, and you were terrified that he would notice a change or something off, but he didn’t. Everything seemed the same as it was before he left. 

Joel and you still met twice a week inside the shop. Some of the visits ended with you bent over the table in the back or riding him in the chair. 

One of the risky quickies you had was on a movie night in town. Everyone had gone ahead, and Joel said he would stay home, but you told everyone that you had forgotten something at home. You met at a secret secluded spot in town. Joel fucked you hard as he covered your mouth with his large hand, fully clothed. 

The secret sex affair had never felt like it played the line of emotional attachment until one evening. 

You had been informed of an old craft store the groups had found savaging for supplies. Tripp had invited you to come with him and a group to search for supplies for the town, such as fabrics, crafts, and other supplies you might need. The group would burn the small town down so no one would be attracted to it after the fact since nothing would be there. (They would make sure it didn’t start a wildfire but burn buildings to prevent people from coming closer to Jackson.) 

The group of ten people, along with a wagon, was plenty for the mission to salvage the small town. The group included Tripp, Joel, Tommy, Maria, and two other friends of yours. After spending most of the day, it was time to head out after savaging through dusty shelves of picked-over craft supplies. You did find a lot of valuable items that will be helpful for the shop. 

You loaded your last box of supplies into the wagon as the guys started to burn other buildings around. You look through your pile as you get excited over your finds. Then you noticed you forgot something inside. You look over to tell Tripp, but he is somewhere else. You should have enough time to grab the last box before they set fire to the building. 

You quickly run inside and search for the box you had put together. You could hear some commotion outside the building. Looking around, you finally found the box and ran over to it. Before reaching the box, you slipped over a line of oil the guys had put for the fire. You tried to stand up quickly but couldn’t because of the pain in your ankle. You curse yourself as you try to get up. 

Outside the building, the guys had started to light the gasoline line they had already laid down. Tripp was the one to light it. Everyone backed away to their horses and wagon, chatting amongst themselves. 

“Um, I’m only seeing five out of six of us,” Tommy says as he runs his hand through his hair, looking around for you. 

By this time, you could see the flames inside the building. The flame ran along the line of oil that you were sitting in, which was all over you. You let out a scream of help to the others outside. 

Joel was the first to hear you after becoming aware you were missing from the group. Tripp finally realized what was happening, but Joel was already soaking his handkerchief in water and covering his airways to run inside after you. His whole body was in fear of how he would find you. Your screams of terror made him move further into the blazing building. He found you in one of the further rooms holding your ankle and a box of supplies.

“Joel,” you gasped as you tried not to inhale more smoke than you already had. His large arms picked you up quickly and carried you to safety. At that time, you had knocked unconscious from all the smoke inhaling. 

Tripp ran to Joel as he carried you outside of the building. “What have I done?! I didn’t know she was inside. Thank you, Joel,” the man rambled as he tried to help Joel to the wagon. 

Joel had helped the others get you into the wagon, but his body hit the ground as he tried to catch his breath. Maria jumped into the wagon to help assist you while Tommy helped his brother strip off his clothes and cool him down. 

“Is she okay?” Joel let out a shaky breath as he drank some water Tommy had given him. Tommy looked at the level of concern on his brother's face. There was something different in the way he asked and looked at you at this moment that made him raise questions that he would never bring up. The others besides Tripp noticed the same level of concern for you from Joel but didn’t say anything because he had just saved your life.

After gaining consciousness, you slowly recover from the smoke inhalation and start to become more of yourself over the next few days. You had not seen Joel since you were bedridden the last few days. Others had come to visit you with surprises, or their presence made you feel better. 

You felt good enough to return to your shop about a week later. The excitement of organizing your new supplies and Tripp's sweet support have driven you to recovery. You kissed Tripp goodbye and headed for the day as he attended a council meeting. 

After an hour, you finally found a great organizational system for your new finds. The sound of the shop bell brought you out of your headspace, and you prayed it was one person. You walked around the counter and saw a small bouquet with a small note waiting for you. 

‘Hope you are well. - J’ was the only message scribbled on the piece of paper. Your head feels light-headed as your feelings start to make you emotional. He never came to check on you or had a second for you to thank him for saving your life. 

You had gone out of your way three days later to visit Joel’s home. You come with a small present of a new flannel shirt with a custom name embroidered into the sleeve. No one had answered the door when he should have been home. Joel sat in his upstairs window, watching you as you knocked on his door. He felt more emotional than he should have watched you leave the present on his doorstep and wiped the tears from your eyes before you turned towards the street. Both of your hearts ached more than they should have from your “non-emotional” affair. 

You had received a visit from Joel in the shop or any secretive message from him again after the flowers. The only contact with the broad, mysterious man was from group settings with friends. Your relationship with Tripp had improved from the relationship to the bedroom. 

It was the day of your wedding. All the work you both had put into it had finally paid off. You felt off the whole day as your friends surrounded you with much love. You put on your wedding dress as you tried not to smirk at the dirty thought of Joel fucking you in it after you had finished your alterations on it, along with his creative ideas for it. 

The day you had dreamed of all your life was a haze, and it did not feel the way it was supposed to. You could barely focus on the day as you tried to find that one person throughout it.

As you make your way down the aisle, you can't help but look around at your friends and community members with a big, fake smile. You find the beautiful brown eyes on Joel as you slow your walk down to meet Tripp. You couldn't help but match the pained look on Joel’s face as you saw each other. You quickly recovered when you met Tripp at the altar. 

The officiant was Tommy, as he was one of Tripp’s closest friends and mentors. He talked highly of you and read off the typical wedding speech of love and endearment of marriage.  

“If anyone objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Tommy said as he looked out into the crowd, looking for his brother's eyes, which he could not find in the audience. You found yourself doing the same as Tommy. You felt your heart fall into your stomach from the question, but you thought it broke as you saw no sign of the person you wanted to find and hear speak up. 

The wedding was a great success, and much love was spread amongst the community. You had only dreamed of it happening in this messed-up world. The wedding night ended up at the Tipsy Bison, where you hung on your husband's arm and drank your secret emotions in whiskey and anything you could get your hands on. Maria and some of the ladies in your bridal party helped you into the restroom as you felt queasy. 

Joel had eased his way into the bar as he watched you hang on your husband’s arm. He had left the wedding early, drinking his sorrows away all day. He hadn’t been the man he thought he could be, but he showed up to the wedding and swept you away from your husband. His cowardly, drunken self had shown up in the bar more like stumbled into it. 

It took him a while to reach your newlywed husband as he saw you go to the restroom. “Congratulations, Tripp! You got yourself a lovely wife and life. One man can only be so lucky,” Joel drunkenly says to Tripp as he wraps his arm around him. Trpp looks around at the guys around them. 

Tripp nervously chuckles as he looks back at Joel, “thanks, Joel. I know I am the luckiest man in the world today,” he says as he lifts his beer to him. 

They cheer their glass of whiskey and make small talk amongst themselves. Joel orders every one of them a round of shots. He rewraps his arm around his shoulder, pulling him in to whisper in his ear. “When was the last time you fucked her?” Joel whispers into Tripp’s ear. 

Tripp whips his head around to him and throws him off his shoulder, “Excuse me, Joel?” He sternly asks him as he looks more shocked than ever. At this time, the girls had helped you out of the bathroom and nursed you with a glass of water as you walked back into the bar. You look up from your glass to see the scene of your husband and lover. 

Joel chuckles and shrugs his shoulder, “Boy, I said, when was the last time you fucked her?” he says calmly with a wicked smirk on his face. “And I don’t mean the pathetic. 

Fuck that she told me that you gave her. I mean, like a proper fucking her where she can’t remember any dick beside mine.” The smirk on his face as the words come out his face, and everyone’s faces drop in shock from them. Tripp’s fist on Joel’s face is the first sound anyone hears besides gasps. Joel doesn’t fight back as Tripp punishes his beautiful face. Tommy and some of the other patrol group members are the ones who break them up. You didn’t even notice that you had fallen in shock when you met Joel’s eyes, and Tommy pulled him outside. 

Before Tripp could find you, you ran for the only place you thought you could be safe: the sewing shop. The tears, dirt, and memories of your affair ruin your precious wedding dress as you run through all the dirt to your safe space. You hysterically cry yourself to sleep as you know your secret has been told to the world. They were going to shun you and kick you out into the cruel world again, you feared. 

By the time you awoke in the morning, it seemed the whole town had forgotten the terrible incident at the Tipsy Bison. You walked into your shared home with Tripp quietly to find him passed out on the couch, holding an empty whiskey bottle. The guilt and pain made you want to run away from these problems. 

You eventually wake your groom up and tell him everything that happened with Joel. You apologize and promise to work on your relationship. It felt like he had forgiven you too quickly. There were boundaries and much more to discuss, but you planned to work out your relationship with your sweet husband. 

After spending a few days off from the shop on your “honeymoon,” you finally returned to your shop to help the community with all its clothing issues, and Tripp went back to his routine. Joel had reportedly left on a solo patrol after the wedding after a rough discussion with Ellie that night. 

You casually looked out the window from the shop every time you heard the large gates of Jackson open, hoping to see those locks of brown hair. To just talk to the man that you swore never to love, but that was a lie you always told yourself. 

Joel had never returned. Ellie eventually went after him and returned with the news that made you drop to your knees from the worst news ever. He was gone. Forever. Your lover, Joel Miller, had left this world without saying goodbye. 

Thank you for reading!

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 6 (18+)

a/n: happy new year, everyone! you guys made the end of 2023 so unbelievably positive for me with your comments, reblogs & likes. thank you sm!! 🩵 huge thank you to @cloverstayy for the below graphic! she's on insta & tiktok under the same name.

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Bang Chan.

[ read chapter five here ] [ skz house photo book ]

Chapter Six: Of Joy Rides and Hot Tubs

You don’t have class on Thursday so you’re free to wake up when you want. Chan is gone by the time you do, and it’s only 10:00am. He doesn’t have class until late afternoon so your thoughts immediately drift to where he may have gone so early. You would have liked to see him. You wonder, if after last night, he would have smiled at you or shown you any sign that things might be different moving forward. 

It’s a silly, fleeting thought. Having sex with him doesn’t change anything. Even though he granted your plea of treating you good, he still kept his boundaries firmly in place after your shower. You were curious if he would allow you to sleep in his bed, naively hopeful about it even as you finished putting on your pajamas. However, when he got situated under his sheets and bid you goodnight, he made it abundantly clear you were not welcome there. 

Down in the kitchen and still in your pajamas, you snack on a granola bar as some of the others prepare to leave for classes or wherever they’re going—Seungmin has his baseball bag slung over his shoulder and invites you to come watch him practice later. He’s still on your shit list, though, so you’re not overly thrilled about it…but it’s an option if you have nothing better to do.

The house falls quiet again when all the commotion has ceased and you make your way back up to the second floor, to Hyunjin’s room. 

His curtains are drawn, keeping most of the morning light at bay as he sleeps. You walk around to the side of the bed and consider waking him up, cocking your head to the side as you gaze down at him. Even with his blonde hair all over the place, he looks so peaceful and handsome and perfect. His plump lips are pouted in a way that makes him seem absolutely adorable. Sleeping Beauty, who?

Without second guessing it, you slide on the bed next to him.

He peeks open an eye at the movement and smiles lazily when he sees you, causing your heart to flutter. 

“Mmmm, she’s back,” he murmurs sleepily as he wraps his arms around you—one under your head and the other around your waist—and pulls you close, nestling his face in your hair. 

He throws his leg around yours, holding on to you as if you are his own personal body pillow. Your body relaxes in his embrace and you instantly let out a soft sigh. You are content enough to stay in this position with him all day. His steady breathing lets you know he’s drifted back to sleep so you try your best to be still and not disturb his slumber any further. 

Laying on your side, staring ahead at the sight of your empty bed, your mind starts to roam and reflect on the chaos you endured over the past week. Seven days ago you were literally sitting on a curb trying to figure out where you were going to live. And throwing yourself into the SKZ house was a well-timed distraction. You were together with your ex for almost three years, and hadn’t even given yourself time to fully process your break up. Maybe because you knew it was coming…your priorities were no longer aligned, and his eyes had started to wander, his attention and affection wavered. In hindsight, you should have been better prepared for it.

You did love him, though. So the pain of him telling you he thought it’d be best if you lived apart for a while (meaning you getting the fuck out of the apartment), is still brewing inside of you. The anger derived from that pain also makes it easier to cut off your feelings for him. But you hadn’t truly considered being with anyone besides him and now here you are…having fucked one man last night and now in bed with another this morning.

You’d experienced more sexually in three days than you had in the past three years. Dominance, submission, lust, need, desire. You were pushed out of your comfort zone and you liked it. But the most troubling thing for you to wrap your head around is the lack of compassion surrounding these new sexual exploits. You’ve never just fucked someone you weren’t in love with. So how do you detach the actions from the emotions that course through you every time you see Chan? 

You can’t deny that you’re attracted to him—that you like the way he teases you, the way he makes you yearn for his touch just by looking at you. Yet, you still don’t understand how you feel about him, or if you should bother feeling anything at all. 

Cuddled up to Hyunjin—whom you’ve essentially known the same amount of time as Chan, only further adds to your confusion. Clearly it could all be this simple but Chan seems hellbent on making sure you know he views you as an object, a tool at his disposal. Chan very much still feels like a stranger in all aspects outside of sex, whereas Hyunjin feels like someone you’ve known for a long time. Someone that gets you—that respects you. He’s the only thing of comfort you’ve been able to rely on amidst the raging emotions trying their best to consume you when you’re with Chan. 

Hyunjin doesn’t even know how much you need him to just exist right now, and he’d probably think you were crazy if you told him. You place your hand on his arm and bring it from your waist to your chest, he squeezes you closer to him in response, readjusting his body slightly. 

With him snuggled against you and these thoughts wreaking havoc on you mentally, the rise and fall of your chest quickens and before you can stop it, tears are streaming down your cheek as the weight of the past week hits you like a Sparta kick to the chest. You try to keep quiet, to wipe your tears before they fall to his arm, but there’s too many and your sniffling gives you away. 

Hyunjin stirs and lifts his head up, peeking over your shoulder. When he registers that you’re crying, he slowly blinks his eyes open to really look at you. His hand hugged to your chest moves to your face, turning it towards him. You try to resist, shaking your head, wanting to hide your face in the mattress. 

“Y/n,” he says softly, voice still groggy from sleep. 

He turns your entire body around so you’re facing him and cups your cheek, wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb. His attempts are futile—each time he wipes, a new trail is formed. 

“Gwenchana?” he says, warm brown eyes searching yours. “You okay?”

You don’t know what he’s said, why he’s said it, or if he’s still half asleep and not realizing he’s speaking Korean but regardless, the gentle, caring concern in his tone fucking breaks you. 

A sob escapes from your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut and press your face to his chest. He holds you around the waist with one hand and the other strokes the back of your head.

Even with how good Chan made you feel last night—desired in a way you’d never imagined—you still slept in your bed alone, all the while wanting nothing more than to still be close to him after how much of yourself you’d given to him. To be in his arms the way Hyunjin is holding you now.  

You can’t hold it in any longer, and here in this room, you don’t feel like you have to. He just let’s you cry, face against his chest, hands pulling at his shirt. You feel safe here. You want to stay in his protective embrace.

You don’t know how long you spend sobbing against him, but he doesn’t let go of you the entire time. When the sobs and tears finally stop and you regain control of your breathing, he leans back to look at you. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You chew on your bottom lip and shake your head, unable to meet his gaze. 

“Not really,” you say, sniffling and wiping at your eyes. “It’s just been a lot—with the breakup and moving here and Chan and you.”

“Okay,” he replies with a simple nod. 

He holds on to you tightly and quickly moves you up and over him so you're now laying on the opposite side of the bed. 

“That side is for crying—this side is for happy y/n,” he declares.

You can’t help but laugh at his antics. You look down at his tear stained shirt and pull at the fabric.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “And sorry for waking you up like this.”

“Don’t be,” he assures you. And you believe him with ease. “You’re here for me as much as I’m here for you. In all ways.”

His words are sweet and honestly make you feel like you could start bawling all over again.

“What time is it?” You ask as a distraction, realizing you’ve left your phone in Chan’s room. 

“Who cares,” he shrugs.

“Don’t you have class?”

“Who cares,” he repeats. “Want to go do something?”

As much as you’d like to stay here in bed, in his arms, it would also feel nice to be anywhere but inside the house right now. 

“Sure,” you say after a moment. “As long as you’re back in time for class.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, we will be,” he doesn’t sound too convincing this time. He gives you one final squeeze before sitting up. He grabs his phone from the nightstand and checks the time. “We have four hours.”

“What do you have in mind?” You ask, sitting up.

“Nothing at all—I don’t do plans, remember?” 

“You’re gonna make me feel a different kind of crazy these next three days,” you joke.

“You’ll learn to love it,” he winks.

You slide out of the bed and find an outfit for the day. You immediately start changing in the room without thinking about it, but Hyunjin hasn’t seen nearly as much of you as Chan has. You peek over your shoulder and see he’s still sitting in bed, watching you with a smile. He pretends he’s been caught, averting his gaze around the room.

“Stop it,” you say with a laugh, pulling your pants up.

“I’m an artist,” he replies, “I have to appreciate good views. Commit them to memory for my work, you know.”

“Well, this isn’t a live model class—get up and get dressed,” you tell him.

“Yes ma’am.”

You pull on your t-shirt, then tell him you’ll be back in a minute. You make your way upstairs, to Chan’s room. You’re not sure if he’s home so you knock lightly on the door. There’s no response. You enter and retrieve your phone, tucking it in your back pocket. You take a moment to makeup your bed since you have no intention of returning to this room at all for the next couple of days. You also grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder before turning around to leave. 

You stop dead in your tracks when you see Chan, standing between the door frame, startling you. You put a hand to your chest to still your beating heart. How long had he been standing there?

When he takes in the sight of you, you catch a brief look of concern on his face—if you had blinked you would have missed it.

“I just came to get my things,” you say softly. 

As if you owe him any kind of explanation.

He remains silent as he enters the room, stopping just in front of you. He leans down a little, his eyes raking over your face carefully. It dawns on you then…how you must look. You can feel the tightness and puffiness of your eyes from crying earlier.

For a moment you think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. His lips are pressed together tightly as he gives a curt nod and steps to the side, allowing you to walk past. 

His silence feels worse than anything he could have said.

“Have you ever driven one of these before?” Hyunjin asks, seated next to you in the passenger seat of the navy blue Tesla. 

You shake your head, still in shock he offered to let you drive. 

“Go easy on the pedal,” he says, buckling his seatbelt. 

You adjust the rearview mirror, groaning at the sight of your puffy eyes in the reflection. Even after gently washing your face and moisturizing, they still looked awful. 

Hyunjin opens the glove compartment, revealing several pairs of sunglasses. He shuffles them around, holds a few different pairs up to your face before deciding on one and handing it to you. He picks a pair for himself and puts them on as you do the same.

“Now we’re ready,” he looks over to you and you see his eyebrows wiggle above the frame of the sunglasses. 

You’re grinning widely as you reverse from the driveway, feeling happy and optimistic for once. Hyunjin controls the music as you drive, curating a soundtrack for your adventure. Neither of you have any idea where you’re going, which annoys the crap out of you. Hyunjin finds it amusing and starts telling you to take a left here or there. At one point he has you take four rights in a row, effectively sending you in a circle, or square rather. He claps his hands together, laughing as you swat at his arm and thigh in annoyance.

When the song “Broken” by We Are Fury & Luma comes through the speakers, you make him replay it a few times in a row—the two of you sing it together, “Give it away, like I always do. Watch you start to fade, one more heart to lose.” The lyrics hit you in special way today, but Hyunjin matches your energy as you both belt out the next part with your whole chest, “Got that sinking feeling like the bottom of the ocean, I’ve been here before, feeling every damn emotion.”

You drive and sing and talk. You’re almost able to forget about your sad, emotional outburst earlier. Almost. 

At one point you stop at a shopping center with a recently opened Halloween store to browse the costumes and pick up a few decorative items for the house. Well, it started as a few anyway. Hyunjin alternates between holding your hand and hugging you from behind as you walk through the aisles. He keeps you entertained with his clumsiness—screaming and knocking into displays when something scares him. Being with him makes you feel like a normal college student just hanging out with their crush—joking, laughing, flirting.

When you make a stop for lunch, you mention Seungmin inviting you to watch him practice and Hyunjin doesn’t mind the idea. You grab enough food for the three of you and head down to campus. You’ve never had a reason to venture to the baseball field before, but it’s quite large and empty aside from the players practicing. 

You and Hyunjin take a seat in the bleachers—Seungmin waves when he spots you two. You munch on fries and a burger as you watch them. Seungmin is far more serious on the mound than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like he simply belongs there, on the field and in his uniform, striking out a couple of team mates in a row. 

“Shit, I have to get to class,” Hyunjin announces, checking his phone. 

You hadn’t realized how much time had passed already. 

“Go,” you tell him with a nod. “I’ll catch a ride back with Seungmin or wait around for you.”

“You’ll wait for me?” He asks, batting his eyelashes at you. 

“Maybe,” you tease with a playful shrug. 

He stands up and starts to walk away from you before suddenly stopping. He turns back around to face you, leans down and places a kiss firmly on your lips. You’re startled at the sudden action, but you don’t shy away from it. You press your lips back against his.

It’s quick and sweet, but a wave of heat rushes through your body all the same. 

“See you later,” he says when he steps back.

You continue watching Seungmin for another half an hour until practice ends. He comes to meet you in the bleachers and you offer him the food you had ordered for him. 

You push your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose to look at him directly in the eyes, “It may or may not be poisoned.” 

“I have a strong immune system,” he retorts, tearing away at the wrapper of the burger and biting into it. “Did you like what you saw?”

“You’re okay,” you say nonchalantly, pushing your sunglasses back up. “When’s the first game?”

“In the spring. You gonna come watch?”

“Only if I can root for the other team,” you reply.

“That’s blasphemy.”

“Serves you right, pineapple boy.” 

He lets out a loud laugh at your remark. 

“Come on, it was a joke.”

“To you, maybe…Chan didn’t find it so amusing,” you tell him. 

“He actually does like pineapple,” he shrugs. 

“But not on pizza—you set me up.”

“I did,” he agrees. “It was funny.”

“Again…to you, maybe. And Changbin. I’ll get you back for that.”

“Oooh, I’m so scared,” he says, finishing off the last bite of his burger in record time. 

“You should be,” you tell him. “Sleep with your eyes open Kim Seungmin.”

“I always do.”

You roll your eyes. His sarcastic ass has a comeback for everything. 

You sit and talk on the bleachers a little while longer until Seungmin is ready to head back to the house. He walks you to the building where Hyunjin’s class is before taking off. You sit outside the building and wait, scrolling through your phone for a lack of anything better to do. When you look up and see Hyunjin finally walking out, he’s beaming when he spots you on the bench.

You stand to greet him, only just now realizing he went to class empty handed—no backpack, no notebook or pen, nothing. You could never imagine doing such a thing but for Hyunjin, it just seems fitting.

By the time you get back home, the house is abuzz per usual for this time of night. You and Hyunjin take in the decorations from the Halloween store and get to work putting some of them up with a few others as dinner is prepared. 

Everyone throws around ideas for the upcoming Halloween party, and it starts to sound more intense than you could have imagined. It seems like they plan to go all out with kegs, catering, costume contests and more. 

After dinner you lounge in the living room, seated around the coffee table with nearly everyone except Chan, Rhiannon, Changbin and Lee Know, playing Uno. Rhiannon and Changbin had excused themselves after making suggestive faces at each other the entire meal. The game causes a lot of commotion and outbursts but honestly it’s the most fun you’ve had in the house as a group yet. 

Felix claims to make the house rules, saying you can put a Draw 2 on a Draw 2, which is purely evil as he makes you Draw 12 cards at one point with a devilish grin on his face. 

By 8:30pm, Hyunjin is dragging you back upstairs to his room wanting to watch the next episode of the show you started Sunday, saying he’s been waiting forever to see what happens. 

You both climb into his bed, laptop in front of you and leaned together as you watch episode two. You’re at ease next to him. You readjust yourselves halfway through watching to get more comfortable, sitting with your backs against the pillows and the laptop resting on your left and his right thigh. He wraps an arm around you and you lean against him. You’re able to get in two episodes before calling it quits for the night. 

“You know I can sleep in my own bed if you don’t want me with you,” you say to him as you’re putting your dirty clothes in the laundry and make a note to do some washing over the weekend. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You shrug in response, as if you don’t know the reason you’re saying it involves the man on the next floor up. 

“In case you want your space or something.”

“No,” he replies cooly. “I get my space when you’re with Chan.”

He pulls back the bedsheets (specifically on the right, your happy side) and looks pointedly down at them then back up to you. You can’t stop the smile that creeps on to your face as you climb in bed next to him. 

“Fair warning I have to be up for an early class tomorrow.”

“Ew,” he says pulling you towards him and you can just picture the look of disgust he’s bearing. 

You turn around to face him, tucking your head in the crook of his neck. 

“Thank you for this morning,” you tell him.

“You’ll adjust,” he says. “But I know it’s hard.”

“Did you want to…” you ask, trailing off in the same way you did with Chan but you’re not nearly half as nervous. You can’t let yourself lose sight of the reason you’re in this house. 

“We don’t have to rush, okay?” he replies.

You nod.

“You are emotional right now,” he continues, “I can see that. I know this can be a lot to handle in the beginning so I won’t pile more on top of what you're already feeling.”

“I think I can handle it…” you speak up. 

“I want you to know you can handle it, y/n.”

You bite your bottom lip as you look at him. His words don’t feel like a rejection, they’re coming from a place that’s putting you first. He’s right. And you know it.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask timidly. 

He grabs on to you like he did this morning and pulls you up and over so you’re laying on top of him. You sit up, straddling his waist, and run your hands through his soft, blonde hair before leaning down and pressing your lips to his. You want to communicate just how much spending today with him meant to you. 

The kiss starts with slow, long presses of your lips together but soon evolves into more. You part your mouth, and he captures your bottom lip between his, sucking on it gently. His hands roam across your back as you kiss him again, snaking your tongue inside his mouth while your hips grind against him.

He turns his head to the side, letting out a breath as he breaks the kiss. You look down at him with uncertain eyes.

“Don’t think I don’t want you…because I do.” He moves his hips against you and you can feel his hardening cock press against you. “But let’s do this right.”

You realize how easily you could try to push it further, but he seems adamant about wanting you to be in a good headspace. Which, truthfully, makes you want him even more. As if he can heal the part of you that’s been wounded by fucking you. 

“We can still kiss though, right?”

He responds by cupping the back of your neck and bringing your lips to his again. 

The strict make out session has you feeling like a teenager again—hesitant to move to second base. He stills your hips and grunts each time you grind against him, causing you to giggle. The roles in this room are much different as you get to be the teaser for once.

On Saturday it’s decided to make use of the pool and hot tub before the weather gets too cold. Changbin and Chan man the grill as everyone else is in the heated pool either swimming or lounging on the large floaties. You’re left feeling a little in awe, as you have never seen so much of all the members—the girls in their bathing suits and the guys in their swim trunks. They boys are all varying degrees of physical fitness—some have abs, some don’t, some have defined, muscular arms, some don’t. But the sight of each them makes you lick your lips and force yourself to look away. 

When you make your way out of the house, carrying a pan of meat to Chan and Changbin, you feel Chan’s eyes on you. He doesn’t try to hide it either, looking you over in your swimsuit. It’s modest, to some degree—a dark green bikini top with white and yellow flowers and matching shorts for the bottoms. His eyes dip to your cleavage, then back up to your eyes. At least you’re not the only one fighting these urges to keep your gaze up. You really wish you’d brought out a pair of sunglasses to hide your gawking.

He hasn’t said a word to you since that night. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his look. You’re emboldened by the closeness you’ve felt with Hyunjin the last few days. You know that on Sunday, too, when it’s your day to choose—you’ll stay with Hyunjin again.

You push the thoughts of the Monday fast approaching with him aside as you get in the pool to join the others. Hyunjin holds his hand out to you as you descend the steps, pulling you to him once you’re in the water. You wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he carries you effortlessly through the water, towards the deep end. 

He stops against the side of the pool and you lean back to rest against it, hips thrust forward to his. Partially of your own doing, but also because of the water. He doesn’t seem to mind either way. He’s been rather receptive of your sly advances. You find it exciting, how both of you are able to tease each other knowing it’s building up to something more without any sort of timeline or demand. 

You grin up at him, letting your arms fall from around his neck down to his chest. You are assigned to him and feel free to stare and touch him as you please. You run your hands down past his lightly defined pectorals, over his nipples (which makes him giggle), then down to his abs. They may not be as toned as Chan’s, but they feel satisfying beneath your fingertips either way.

Hyunjin leans down to kiss you but before his lips meet yours, a wave of water hits you, soaking both of your heads. You both turn to find the culprit—Lee Know. He’s grinning as he flicks more water at you. You push away from Hyunjin and head towards him. 

Hyunjin grabs you by the waist, pulling you back. 

“Relax,” he says into your ear. “He can’t swim.”

“Good,” you mutter. “I can drown him easier.”

Hyunjin laughs at your remark. 

“And then what?” He asks. “You go to jail and you’re kept from me?”

You pout your lips and look up at him. 

“But if would feel so cathartic.”

“I agree with you. Everyone’s contemplated drowning Minho at some point,” he tells you. 

When the meat is cooked, everyone exits the pool to eat. Chan sits directly across from you and Hyunjin, leaning back in his chair, all nonchalant and unbothered. When you’re with Hyunjin, who’s treating you so well, you’re able to mostly keep your disturbing thoughts of Chan at bay. You wish you could say you hadn’t thought of him at all, hadn’t thought of what he’s doing up in his room when you aren’t there. Does he touch himself? Does he think of you when he does it?

“I call dibs on being the DJ,” Felix announces when the conversation turns to the Halloween party once again. 

“If you’re just putting together a playlist, you’re not a DJ,” Seungmin corrects him. 

“Don’t over do it with Halloween songs,” Jeongin speaks up, looking pointedly at Han. 

“You have to set the mood,” Han defends himself, cheeks stuffed with food. 

“No one wants to hear Thriller 10 times in one night,” Jeongin says.

“You don’t know that,” Han mumbles with a shrug. 

You ladies are put in charge of getting the virtual invites out, completing the decorations and organizing the catering and keg deliveries. 

You push your plate away from you and look at Chan. You notice he’s always so quiet when he’s with the group. For being the leader he doesn’t speak up that often. Maybe he’s content letting them squabble over the smaller details and getting the final say. 

After everyone is fed and has put the subject of the party to rest, Hyunjin takes your hand and leads you towards the hot tub where Changbin, Lee Know, Rhiannon, Allie and Seungmin are already inside. You sit next to Hyunjin and relax in the warmth, leaning your head against the outer rim with your eyes closed. There’s a jet at work on your back and the repeated pressure feels good. 

Chan and Felix enter the hot tub next. It’s not that big, but everyone moves over to make room. Hyunjin pulls you onto his lap and Chan sits right next to him. Jeongin and Charlotte show up next with shots for everyone. You toss yours back with a grimace—it makes you feel even hotter. 

You lean back against Hyunjin and fight the urge to look over at Chan. It shouldn’t feel so awkward. Directly across from you is a prime example. Charlotte is seated on Jeongin’s lap sideways, legs draped over Han and they’re all engaged in conversation with each other.

You chew on your lip and let out a low breath. Maybe you’re the one making it more awkward than it needs to be, letting your confusing feelings about Chan get in the way of something that should be easy. You’ve been living like he doesn’t exist the past couple of days—you can’t keep that up. You don’t want to be the one to ruin the vibe of the house.

You turn to face Chan as Hyunjin rests his arms on the rim of the hot tub, talking to Lee Know on his other side.

“Got any ideas for your costume?” You ask him. 

“Not yet…why? You wanna play dress up with me?” He arches an eyebrow and smiles. 

You’re caught off guard at his response—both the words and the disarming smile he bears. The bottle of alcohol is passed around again, saving you a response as you fill up your shot glass. 

Chan holds his glass out to you and you cheers him before taking the shot. 

“You seem better,” he says, placing his glass on the ground outside the hot tub. 

It’s the first time he’s acknowledged it. 

You feel a hand on your left thigh and tense up for a second. Hyunjin’s arms are still behind you. Chan’s lips are turned up at the side, watching you panic.

With the jets going you can’t see anything beneath the water, but you know it’s him. 

“Hyunjin has been great,” you tell him. 

“I know,” he replies with an understanding nod, meanwhile his hand has started sliding up and down your thigh. “I’m glad.”

You want to ask him how he knows and why would he be glad about it, but your conversation is interrupted.

“You guys talking about me over here?” Hyunjin leans over to his left side where you and Chan are. 

Chan grins and you feel like you’re about to be caught doing something you shouldn’t. His hand doesn’t stop caressing your thigh. 

“Only good things,” you reply, turning your head to look at him. 

Hyunjin places a quick peck on your cheek and returns to his conversation with Lee Know. 

You drop your gaze down to the water feeling happy, embarrassed and confused. 

Chan’s hand slides further up your thigh and moves between your legs. With his other hand above the water, he uses a finger to tilt your head back up so you’re looking at him. You don’t know what to say. 

“No?” He asks quietly. 

You nod your head slowly, spreading your legs just a little further apart.

How could he do this so quickly? He gave you a mere centimeter of attention and now you’re back right where he wants you. This physical touch, though, is the most he’s shown you in front of the others.

Changbin says something to Chan then, so he turns to speak to him but continues rubbing you over your swim shorts. Your hips move against his fingers. 

Hyunjin instinctively wraps one arm around your waist to keep you still as he had been doing the past couple of days. His hand bumps Chan’s in the process and he redirects his attention back to you two. 

Your pulse increases as you anticipate his reaction. 

He fucking chuckles.

With your hair up in a messy bun, Hyunjin has easy access to the back of your neck. He kisses it lightly as he holds you closer to him and Chan resumes his hand movements. Your eyes flutter shut as your brain is on the fritz, trying to process exactly what the fuck is happening right now. 

“It’s too hot in here,” Allie blurts out. 

To which everyone but you laughs. You’re goddamn right it’s hot in here, but for you it’s due to an entirely different reason. 

“I’m getting back in the pool,” she says and stands from the water. 

“I’ll come with you,” you say, taking her distraction as a saving grace to get you out the hot tub before these two men send you to a room with padded walls. 

You push Chan’s hand away and Hyunjin let’s go of you as you stand. 

Allie walks to the steps of the pool but you dive right in. The cold water against your skin shocks your senses, making you feel alert and awake, helping bring you down from whatever Hyunjin and Chan were trying to work you up to. 

You take your time, swimming to the opposite end of the pool before resurfacing. You let out a deep breath and wipe the water away from you face. You don’t know how to describe what you had just felt—both of them touching you at once. You’ve never felt that before…but holy fuck do you want to experience it to completion now. 

[ read chapter seven here ]

a/n: oh boy. how are we feeling? it was important for her to acknowledge all she's going through. but aren't we so happy she has hyunjin? the yin to chan's yang. 😁

tag list: @iflmho / @skzstaykatsy / @blackhairandbangs / @ayoitschannie / @idunnomanmynamewastaken / @charmer-c / @ihatemen55 / @channiesprincess / @channniesslefttt / @jiwoos-babygirl / @krayzieestay / @kayleefriedchicken / @sunnyhonie / @cotton-candycloudz / @lubsungie / @conwunder / @puckmaidens / @ashleighland /

[blighted-lights]

The ravage clone 😭 I do imagine soundwave would be overjoyed at first thinking somehow she survived. "I knew lord megatron was wrong, ravage is just built different." Then he'd get pissed as hell at shockwave because that is NOT ravage! (He still takes care of her anyways).

It reminds me of this tiktoker who cloned her cat so she could have another one after the og died and she got pissed because the new cat had a different personality. Yeah they look the same and have the same DNA but they do not have the same memories/experiences!! It will never be 100% an exact clone.

Differences like that would make it bittersweet because soundwave would feed her ravage's favorite food to find out they don't share the same tastes and he'd spiral.

HI YIKES!! (referencing this post here, btw, which you all should look at and send me asks about hehe <3)

and i have to say that everyone who's left tags and comments so far on that post (plus inbox messages, thank you <3) has been FAR kinder in terms of angst levels of this idea than what i originally had planned. soundwave initially does have some vague hope that this ravage is the original ravage when he first meets her, BUT this hope is immediately dashed. he can tell from the start that she isn't the original ravage and shockwave outright admits to her being a clone 😔

shockwave's entire plan with cloning ravage was both as an emotional support to soundwave after they lost the original ravage AND, in true shockwave fashion, a bit of a manipulative move. soundwave's work and self-care have absolutely tanked with the loss of ravage. shockwave figured that bringing her back, or at least some version of her, would make soundwave feel obligated to take care of her- and it does! but to take care of this new ravage, soundwave has to take care of himself as well or he risks not being able to provide her what she needs. soundwave's self care goes back up, he starts working more effectively because he's properly fueled and rested, and shockwave considers it a win!

it's,, not a win tho, because ravage's clone is her own individual person and the pressure of trying to live up to the original ravage is suffocating. and since shockwave is her creator, she prefers being around shockwave over being around soundwave, and it ends up being a Mess™️. this cloned ravage also has very vague imprints of the original ravage's personality traits, but it's So obvious to anyone paying attention that she isn't the original at all.

soundwave also has no idea how to process the existence of this new ravage as she is a clone of one of his closest friends- his oldest friend, really. he's going through a lot of conflicting emotions while grieving- and that's not even going into what the other cassettes are feeling

[mariacallous]

The problem with judging people for their sins is that the internet makes it exceedingly easy to invent sins. In February, Buzzfeed News reported on a man filmed by a passing TikTokker, who then uploaded the footage with text suggesting he’d lied to her to get out of a date. That was false—he’d never met her—but it didn’t stop people from ridiculing him as the video racked up over a million views.

Similarly, last year, an Australian woman objected to being made the star of a stunt in which a TikTokker asked her to hold a bouquet, strolled off, and then congratulated himself on performing a random act of kindness. Sixty million hits later, his viewers were praising him for brightening the day of a woman they judged to be old, lonely, and sad. But she objected to that characterization and declared the whole affair “dehumanizing.” She hadn’t asked to have her day interrupted, let alone be thrust into a global spotlight.

And then there are those incapable of even grasping the situation. In 2022, a TikTok channel was called out for surreptitiously filming the homeless with drones. Loved ones with dementia are put on TikTok to be infantilized or have their worst moments gawked at. Parents transform their children into viral stars. Sometimes, those children grow up and call them out for warping their youth.

When people tell us it was harrowing and wrong to be unwillingly cast into the spotlight, we nod and agree. But those responsible typically offer only half-hearted apologies or remain unrepentant, while their millions of views discourage reflection. Often, moral scolding is implicit in the video and explicit in the comments: It is wrong to be homeless. It is gross to be ill. It is pathetic to be unhappy.

To be sure, crass and hateful public figures are worthy of ridicule. And we’ve been using the internet to judge strangers for as long as we’ve had the internet. But the common trait shared by much of the most obnoxious content today is that someone chose to elevate a stranger for no reason beyond their own gratification, attracting attention at a scale unimaginable in the days of relics like Hot or Not and People of Wal-Mart.

At best, these are misguided attempts to juice the poster’s social media presence. At worst, they are pointless cruelty. That cruelty can be addictive, but we can and must resist the urge to gawk at strangers against their will. It should, in fact, be considered rude, insulting, and wrong to have uploaded a stranger against their will. We would not go out into the streets and stir up a mob against a random person. Why are we so comfortable with doing it online?

Much of what we post online is innocent and will remain so. The average Facebook user has 338 friends, while the average number of Instagram followers, according to one estimate, is just 150. You likely use these platforms to follow celebrities and brands, and to interact with friends and family. These are, for most users, insular communities. Vacation photos with friends or a family portrait at Christmas are unlikely to attract trolls and creeps, and even if they do, they are clearly posted in good faith.

But some platforms, like TikTok and Twitter, are more exposed to the vagaries and cruelties of the wider world. Anything you post on them can wind up in the feed of people who don't follow you. Therefore, anyone can become the day’s punching bag. Does your relative really understand what could happen if you put your interaction with them on TikTok?

Maybe you know better than to post Grandpa on Twitter without thinking it through. We know whether our friends and family like attention and whether they understand social media ecosystems, and with this knowledge we are capable of making informed decisions as to whether and on what platforms we should post them. We do not have the same knowledge of strangers. That can be a reason to not post them, but it can also be an excuse to post them without thinking.

If it came out that an influencer uploaded an interaction with a stranger to a private Facebook page or Discord server solely so their closest friends and family could pick them apart, it would rightly be considered misanthropic. And yet uploading a stranger so millions can mock and over-analyze them is just the business of content. That business needs to change.

It’s exceedingly unlikely we’ll ever eliminate jackassery from the internet, but a social media mishap involving a friend or family member can be resolved with communication.

It is harder for a complete stranger to succeed in that endeavor, especially when “Look at this weirdo I found, please gape at them” is the text or subtext of so many videos and posts by accounts that thrive on content starring the unwilling. Such content must become anathema. Particular thought must be taken before posting an interaction with a stranger, and the consent of a stranger to be posted at all is necessary to retain an internet that is even remotely civil. If someone does post a stranger without their consent, they should be shunned, not rewarded with the attention they crave.

The vast majority of disputes with unruly neighbors are solved by talking to them. Ideally, the law only gets involved when lines of communication break down. The same can be true of digital disputes.

We have privacy laws. If I were to post your name, address, and phone number, you would have legal recourse. And yet the same is not true for your image. Today, at least, you surrender your right to privacy by stepping into public. But outdated privacy laws are catching up to the abuses of government and tech, and the issues raised by social media virality could be next.

Still, a blanket law against posting strangers without their consent would be draconian and unworkable. There are too many variables, too many circumstances, and simply too many cases. However, whole generations who have been online since birth—sometimes unwillingly—could grow up to be more sensitive to the downsides of posting without permission, prompting a normative shift.

More specific laws are already evolving to handle some scenarios raised by nonconsensual virality, specifically as it applies to children. Irina Raicu of Santa Clara University’s Internet Ethics Program points out that a recent French law entitles child influencers to demand that platforms scrub all trace of them once they turn 16. The YouTube career their parents create for them—or force on them—need not be what defines them as adults. The United States is considering a similar law; a woman who testified to a House committee said the details of her first period were turned into content.

Another law being considered in France would make parents responsible for their children’s privacy rights. Le Monde cites, as an example of fame-seeking behavior that France is hoping to discourage, TikTokkers scaring their children by pretending to call the police on them, and an Instagrammer who smeared chocolate on her 4-year-old and convinced them they were covered in feces. We will eventually wonder how parents were able to get away with this at all.

So those who cannot consent are starting to be protected. But what about those who could consent, but don’t? And what if, as some unwillingly viral subjects have found, reaching out and asking for posts to be removed is met with silence or rejection?

In reality we already practice social media consent; it is not unusual to ask a friend if they’re alright with having a picture posted to Instagram, even though the face they make as they try to cram an unusually large sandwich into their mouth is not a flattering one. And yet we continually fail to extend this courtesy to strangers, either because we think nothing of it or because it is our job to go viral at all costs.

Some of this, as Raicu points out, can be blamed on the platforms we use, which encourage hair triggers. “There are ways in which the design choices behind many websites make it harder for all of us to think about consent,” Raicu wrote in an email. She points to the sheer ease of posting and the fact that norms around social media consent have not solidified. But she notes that platforms could “introduce some friction” in the form of, essentially, reminders that other people are human before you hit Post.

Future platforms could work to curtail shaming, either out of moral compulsion or legal necessity. Much as you can report harassment to social media platforms, posts that have elevated you to infamy against your will should be fair targets.

Lines have been drawn before. YouTube banned dangerous pranks and challenges after people were hurt and complaints mounted. TikTok is trying to tweak its algorithm in response to growing concerns that young users are awash in content encouraging suicide and incel ideology. Content made from those unable or unwilling to consent is a broad category that cannot be wiped out with algorithmic tweaks, but the damage is still happening, and we have the power to collectively declare that some forms of content are unacceptable and must no longer be tolerated.

Perhaps, given the increasing universality of social media usage—83 percent of Gen Z uses TikTok—platform-embedded tools could establish consent. Before posting a video of someone, an influencer could ask their username and send them a simple, stock contract granting them permission to post. Again, this need not apply to every random photo of friends. It could be optional, or it might apply only when an account reaches a certain threshold of followers. But a lack of permission could give a user cause when they cite unwanted virality and negative attention when asking for a post to be removed.

But most of the work will fall to people. It's difficult enough to remember that the man being a bit rude in the grocery store line is a fallible human being with hopes and dreams; it can be almost impossible to remind yourself of that when viewing a contextless clip of someone halfway across the hemisphere. The internet is capable of connecting us to tremendous numbers of people, even as it makes us forget that they are human like us.

An influencer comfortable with filming themselves for thousands of viewers should be comfortable with approaching a stranger and saying, “Would you mind appearing in a video I’m making? I’m going to post it on this platform, and I have this many followers. Take a minute to check me out.” Some already do, and surely there are people who would be happy to receive a free bouquet in exchange for appearing in a TikTokker’s silly stunt. But a no should be taken as a no, just as it should in any other scenario involving consent.

It’s all too easy to skip this step today. People who speak out when they feel harmed by what an influencer did with their image receive only a tiny fraction of the attention that the original posts featuring them got. But when an influencer is repeatedly called out for exploiting strangers—or when their exploitation is obvious, such as when they prey on the homeless—they should be frozen out of the social media ecosystem, not rewarded with attention and profit.

In the future, how will we be able to see such casual cruelty as anything but unethical? Maybe stories of regret are a sign of what’s to come. Brianna Wu, one of the victims of GamerGate, says she has fielded over 100 apologies, often from people who were at their lowest and saw her as an easy outlet for their emotions. But we generally don’t take our frustrations out on people on the street; understanding that people deserve to be protected from unsolicited online fame and malice is the next logical step.

We no longer parade people through villages on a cart or lock them in pillories in the town square to shame them, as was done in centuries past. We did not stop enforcing laws and norms, but we recognized that humiliation and ostracization are harsh, counterproductive tools. Eventually, we will make that realization about the strangers we parade across the internet.

[ddejavvu]

What would it be like to do the break bite bang chocolate trend with rooster?? Hmmmm I wonder 😏

Break, Bite, Bang - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley decide to try the viral tiktok sex chocolates, and you follow their instructions to the letter.

Contents/Warnings: smut (minors dni), dirty talk, p in v, oral (m and f receiving), afab!reader, fem!reader, handjob, thigh riding, use of aphrodisiacs, teasing, lots of messy makeouts

WC: 4.9K / navigation

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Considering Bradley's sex drive is already remarkably high, you're not sure why you bought the chocolates. But the countless videos of sweaty, fucked out couples that you saw on your for you page never failed to intrigue you, and when the little box comes in the mail, you're more than ready to put it to good use.

Bradley's just returned home from a run when you slit the box open, raising a curious eyebrow as he pants, "What'd you order, babe?"

"Chocolate," You hold up the package for him to see.

He frowns, too far away to read the words on the front, "I could have bought you a hershey bar at the gas station."

"This is not a hershey bar," You grin wickedly, "Have you heard of tabs chocolate?"

"Are they that fancy ass Australian company that charges, like, $50 per bar?" Bradley takes his workout towel, swiping at the sweat over his brow.

"No," You laugh, "They put aphrodisiacs in their chocolate."

"Aphrodisiacs," Bradley hums with a furrowed brow, "Isn't that-?"

"It's sex chocolate," You reveal, "You up for a bit more exercise today?"

"Sex-ercise," Bradley rushes for you with a shit-eating grin, far too proud of his shitty joke. He's grabbing for the chocolates but you snatch them away, lips wrinkled in a grimace.

"Hey, what-?"

"Not after that." You glare at him, "That was awful."

"Oh, come on!" He laughs, tugging the box out of your hands, and scanning the cover, "Come on, have some chocolate, honey, it'll make you feel better."

"Whatever," You grumble, snatching the little foil squares from their places, "Okay, break," You snap the square in two, "Bite," You hold Bradley's portion out for him, letting him take it from your hand. His mustache prickles against your skin and you bite back a giggle, stuffing your mouth with chocolate instead.

The sweet is savory and bitter on your tongue, with just the right amount of sugar. It's primarily dark, the aphrodisiac component, and you'd buy it for the taste even if it wasn't going to make you fuck like rabbits.

You don't get to swallow the chocolate and finish their signature slogan before Bradley's wolfed down his bar, tossing the package on the table and surging for your lips, "Bang."

The kiss he drags you into nearly buckles your knees. It's intense, it's made sweeter by the chocolate coating his tongue, and his fingers dig into your waist as he tugs you close.

"Mmf- Bradley!" You gasp, dragging in a lungful of air that he'd practically stolen from you with the kiss. He's eager to touch you, to feel you, to taste you as his lips never part from your skin, dragging from your own to the spot just under your jaw that makes your stomach tingly.

"You're- Ah, you're supposed to wait for the chocolate to kick in," You pant, hands slowly, subconsciously curling into his shirt as he sucks at your neck, "We're supposed to, like, see how long we can hold off."

"No fun in that," Bradley shrugs, "I already wanted to fuck when I got home from my run."

"You-" You laugh, breath hitched when his tongue comes out to lick over the skin that his teeth had just nipped at, "You're insatiable, Brad."

"How'm I supposed to keep my hands off of you, hm?" He hums, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. He sucks a patch of skin just to the left of your throat, one that makes your fist clench hard in his sweat soaked running shirt, "So fuckin' sexy, don't need a chocolate to think that."

"But- but we should wait!" You urge, wishing his hair was just the tiniest bit longer so you could tug on it to separate his lips from your neck, "Just to see how- ah!" He nips at your skin again, and a fire burns through your veins that's hard to ignore. It pulls you in, burns from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head, and makes you want to melt into his arms. But the taste of chocolate on your tongue makes you reconsider, and you wrestle yourself out of Bradley's arms.

"No," You pant, eyeing him warily as he watches you, "No, we have to see how long we can wait. Trust me, Brad, it'll make it so much better."

"I want you now," He whines, reminiscent of a kid denied a cookie before dinner. His tone helps tamp down some of the arousal that had risen briefly in your belly, and you take his hand. It's rough from work, calloused and strong. It curls around yours and you lead him to your bedroom, letting him perch on the bed while you unbutton your jean shorts.

Bradley's mouth falls open and he scoffs, "Babe! Don't tease me, how am I supposed to hold out now?"

"You'll be fine," You wave off his concerns, stripping out of your shirt next. It leaves you in a bra and panties you’d specifically chosen for their sex appeal, powder pink and lacy. They’re Bradley’s second favorite, behind only the navy blue set on the drying rack. But you’d used it last night, and you don’t want things to get boring.

“Fuck,” he huffs, flopping back onto the bed. His tanned skin is a stark contrast from the crisp, white bedsheets, only fresh and clean because you’d changed them last night. He watches as you strip yourself of the sheer chain he'd bought you three months ago, for your second anniversary, your initials and his dangling from the silver. The first night you'd had it, he'd torn it off of you during sex, and it had ruined the mood completely. One trip to the garage for some pliers had seen it back on your neck good as new, but you're not taking any chances this time.

"Good idea," He grins lazily, eyes meeting your own for only a split second before they trace your exposed body. He reaches out for your hip when you make for the bed but you jolt out of his reach, hands firmly placed on your hips.

"Bradley Bradshaw," You huff, "No touching! Not yet, you have to really wait until you can't take it anymore."

"I can't! I can't take it anymore," He insists, groaning low and raspy in his throat, "Babe, on a normal day, seeing you in that would get me going. But now you've just given me sex-drugged chocolate? How much longer am I supposed to wait?"

"As long as you can," You grin, something evil in the expression as you flop down onto your stomach beside him with a novel, "'Then we'll jump each other."

Bradley muffles another groan, this time with an arm over his face. When he removes it he reaches for the hemline of his own shirt, "Fine. But I'm stripping too, see how long you can resist me."

"Perfect," You hum, already cracking the spine to resume your place on page 235. You won't give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered, even if you're having an incredibly hard time focusing on your book right now instead of looking over when you hear the zipper of his jeans.

He eases back into the mattress with yet another groan, the sound bordering on pornographic enough to stir something beneath your stomach. It's the sound he makes when you snake a hand south and squeeze at his half-hard bulge, whether it be an invitation to the bar bathroom or a suggestion after movie night. You think about the way he feels against your hand, thick and straining against his pants, and-

"You're bending that book," Bradley drawls, peering sideways at you, "Thinking about anything in particular?"

It's true, your hand is crumpling the spine and pages up like scrap paper. You quickly smooth it out, lamenting the wrinkles forever etched into the story. Maybe they'll become fond memories, depending on how explosive the sex is tonight.

'No." You grumble, refusing to glance at his sprawled out, near-naked form, "Mind your business."

“Testy,” he laughs, no doubt teasing you, knowing exactly what you’re thinking of, “Alright, babe, enjoy your book.”

Bradley sticks to the agreement and leaves you well enough alone, choosing to scroll on his phone rather than stare at you. You get into the zone of reading, but part of your mind is always on the slight buzz you feel between your thighs. It’s been there since the first kiss Bradley had trapped you in back at the table, and it hasn’t gone away since.

Your reading material isn’t helping. The characters, a soon-to-be-couple currently rivals on the swim team, are currently having a late night jacuzzi rendezvous. It's hot, steamy, and everything you want from Bradley.

You pray that he doesn't notice the clench of your thighs as you read on, trying to envision yourself in their current position. He's got her backed up against the wall of the jacuzzi, and every description of the noises he's making has you wanting to squirm in place for some sort of friction. He tilts her chin upwards with one thumb until she's looking back at him, reaches for her lips, and-

Bradley's hand smooths over the back of your thigh.

"Bradley," You warn, but he's two steps ahead of you.

"Relax, angel." He croons, the natural rasp in his voice sending heat straight south, "You just look a little tense. I was gonna give you a massage."

It's a game of chicken, a word Rooster doesn't like hearing because of the way Hangman uses it as a nickname for him. But you're not losing, so when his rough, large hands slide up your thighs, smoothing over the fabric of your panties, you breathe deeply before turning back to your book.

He gives you a few moments of silence, and they're anything but comfortable. Tension is thrumming through every vein in your body, concentrated in handprint shapes wherever Bradley's palms press to your skin. He stays true to his word and massages your thighs, but his thumbs edge up the curve of your ass, closer to their target than he knows they should be.

His fingers knead and squeeze at the soft flesh of your inner thighs, paying special attention to the hypersensitive skin between your cunt and your thighs. When he ghosts his fingernail over the crease there and you clench your thighs together, he knows he's got you.

"What'cha reading?" He plays dumb, leaning over your shoulders while holding your ass steady, "Woah."

"Shut up," You huff, "Stop teasing me."

"I'm not teasing!" He insists, with a squeeze to your ass that proves the opposite, "I'm just curious, and then I look over your shoulder and see that."

"What," You scoff, "What's so shocking to you?"

"His broad form looms over her own smaller one," Bradley reads, voice deep and raspy where he's leaning over you. His voice is just beside your ear, and you feel his breath against your skin as he continues, "-muscles in his arms on full display despite the near-scalding water lapping over them. He cages her in his embrace, no escape possible even if she wanted one. But she doesn't, not as his large, rough thumb comes down to nudge at her puffy, sensitive clit beneath the water. The fabric of her bathing suit presents a delicious friction, and her hips jolt into his hand with a shockwave of ecstasy."

He comes to an abrupt stop, satisfied that your cheeks are burning hot, and your core is probably similar. He waits for your reply, and when it comes in a shaky, ‘so what?’, he tightens his grip on your hip ever so slightly.

“You think that would feel nice?” He asks, and if he purposefully strains the muscles in his arm where he plants his hand by your head, he hopes you don’t notice. His other hand snakes beneath your front, pinned between your waist and the mattress as he finds your clit with experienced ease.

“Like this?” He thumbs at the sensitive bundle of nerves, and your hips buck like they’re scripted to, “That feels good?”

“Bradley,” You’re barely able to whimper, chocolate definitely taking its toll as your insides writhe with flames.

He takes your whine as an admission, shutting your book carelessly and nipping at your earlobe as he pulls his hands back to your hips, “Roll over.”

“Brad,” You start, but he flips you himself.

“Roll over,” He gushes, and the second your lips are in his line of sight, he’s on them. His own press enthusiastically to yours, a heavy pant released into your mouth as he braces his knees on the mattress.

“I cant fucking take it anymore,” He groans, choking out his words between kiss after kiss pressed to your mouth. His tongue is sloppy, licking up your own like he's trying to swallow it.

He's tasting chocolate on your tongue and you're tasting some on his, a sweet flavor that only reminds you of the intense burning sensation between your legs.

"Laying there," He rasps, dragging in breath after breath that he later spends sucking your lips between his own, "Ass up in those pretty panties. You know I've got a thing for your ass. Mmf- and," He breathes, hand trailing up your waist, "-your stomach. And your tits," He squeezes them through the sheer pads of your bra, "Fuckin' love your tits."

His knees are holding up up on the mattress, and he's plants one of his hands beside your head, just in the dip between your neck and shoulder. He stretches it, nudges his thumb against your jaw and prompts you to open your mouth. When you do, he leans down, capturing your lips in another steamy kiss. You're having trouble focusing on one thing at a time, what with his tongue lapping sensually at your own in smooth, eager strokes. Then his hand, fingers rough and heavy as they pinch unforgivingly at your stiff nipple beneath the fabric of your bra. When you jolt into his touch, your hips buck with the motion, and you feel the hard press of his arousal against your eager core.

Bradley hums approvingly into the kiss, parting with a sloppy trail of saliva and speaking hotly against your lips. "Needy, hm? Gonna grind your sweet pussy all over me?

"Yeah," You breathe, and without the press of his lips to yours, your head tips back, exposing your neck for Bradley to fixate on next, "I need- Oh, Bradley, I need you to fuck me! I need you to fuck me so bad!"

"I thought you wanted to wait," He goads, his mustache grating against the sensitive, thin skin of your neck, "I thought you wanted to see how long you could take it."

"I did! And I can't-" You choke on your words, the sound coming out more of a moan as he sucks harshly, wetly at the skin of your neck, "I can't take it anymore! Fuck me!"

You accentuate your words with another desperate roll of your hips, grinding your clothed cunt over Bradley's bulge. He's straining in the loose fabric of his boxers, a fact that makes your mouth water, and Bradley tears himself away from your neck to wrestle with his undergarments.

"Hang on, sweet thing," He hums, in response to a disgruntled whimper of yours. He knows you're aching, burning with desire, because he is, too. His cock bounces free of his boxers and stands hard, angled towards his stomach and oozing pre. It's the most mouth-watering sight you've ever taken in, and your tingling cunt drools a gush of slick against the fabric of your panties.

It's a struggle to get his boxers off, and it almost looks silly as he wrestles them off from around his ankles. But it keeps you waiting, lets that desire burn just a little longer in your stomach before it's extinguished, and as much as you're yearning for relief, it feels good to prolong your pleasure.

"Okay, I- oh, fuck," Bradley hisses, his thumb against the pad of your panties as his fingers slip beneath the hemline. He feels slick soak through the fabric at the slightest pressure from his single finger, reveling in just how wet you've gotten while waiting for him.

"You're- god, you're dripping," Bradley groans, the sound thick and lustful as his face screws up in concentration, "I just- I- I want to-" He gives into his urges without even explaining them, dipping down to stick his face in your cunt like a man starved. He pants into your pussy, conflicted on whether he should suck more slick out of your eager sex or take a breath. He does a healthy balance of both, if maybe a little lacking in the oxygen department. He doesn't seem to care that he's being suffocated, though, and he tucks his face further into your cunt than seems humanly possible.

His tongue writhes skillfully through you, in and out of your needy hole, against the underside of your clit, against the rarely-caressed skin between your thighs and cunt. He's a messy eater, slick smeared over the lower half of his face, even glistening in his mustache.

"Aah, baby," You gasp, face pinched in half ecstasy, half apprehension as he sucks at your clit, "No, don't- I'm gonna cum!"

"Do it," He urges, tongue licking a long, wet, slick stripe up your cunt before delving back between your folds, "I want to, mmf- feel you cum on my face, baby. Do it, give it to me, I wanna feel your cunt suck me the fuck in."

"No, but-" You reach for his face, sitting up in your pleasured haze, "I want- I want you inside of me when I cum! Please, Brad, I need your- ah! -need your dick!"

"You can have it," He promises, fingers coming to bully your puffy clit while he focuses his tongue on your sopping cunt, "Later. Cum, baby, give it to me."

He's speaking harshly, and his tongue reflects that in the sturdy, rough way that he licks you out. It's akin to the way he kisses, and you suppose he's making out with your sloppy pussy the way that he's tonguing it now. And it works, his insistence, the sting of his mustache on the most sensitive parts of your body, the ever-present pressure against your clit, you feel white hot, blinding pleasure roll over your lower half like a wave of fire.

"Ah- oh god, Bradley," You grunt, voice tapering off into a whine, "-BradleyBradleyBradleyBradley-!"

"Come on," He mumbles, lips barely able to form words around your slick-soaked cunt. He talks you through your orgasm, perhaps less gentle than a reassuring 'good, you're doing so well for me,', but arousing just the same in its gruff demand.

Bradley might be making more noise than you. While you're cumming with various whimpers, moans, groans, and everything in between, he's licking it out of you with lust-filled songs of praise. Every vibration of his vocal chords flows straight south, humming through your trembling cunt as you cum onto his tongue.

He's eager to continue even when you're finished, licking and sucking desperately at your sensitive pussy. It feels good, but you're almost too sensitive already, and you're not waiting another second for his cock.

"No, no-" You reach for his hair, using gentle handfuls of the stuff to guide his face out of your cunt, "No, Brad, I want- mmf!"

He doesn't let you tell him what you want; he doesn't have to, he already knows. He knows what you really want is between his legs, so rather than give you the breath to explain it to him, he surges forwards, knocking his lips into yours and using the momentum to lay you back down onto the mattress.

"Shit," You breathe, feeling his cock nudge at your sensitive cunt immediately, "I- Bradley, I- oh!"

He slams into you with no hesitation, hips on a mission to fuse with your own as he rams his cock into you. It's relentless, more desperate than you've ever felt him before, and you clutch at his broad shoulders as he buries his face in your shoulder.

"Holy shit!" He huffs, a grunting, groaning mess, "I- Jesus, angel, you feel so good, I can't- nngh! I can't get enough. Oh god," He pants, mouth falling open and tongue flattening against your neck, swiping up over your jaw. His mouth latches there, sucking harshly just beneath your ear at the curve of your jaw. His hips drive the same steady pace into you, filling you up impossibly deep with each pump of his cock. It's mind-numbingly hard, probably achingly painful to Bradley, and he buries it inside of you to get relief. The more he thrusts the deeper he goes, until he's slamming into your sweet spot with superhuman fervor. It's like he's chasing something, balls landing heavy against the curve of your ass as he fucks into you.

"Bradley," You moan, nails scraping against the tan, toned skin of his back, "Baby, ah-! Oh my god, keep- keep going!"

"I'm close," He grunts, voice muffled slightly in what you suspect is shame. His libido is strong, and he doesn't usually finish out this fast. But the chocolate counts for something, and he'd spent who knows how many minutes with his face buried inside your cunt with no relief down south. You're not surprised he's cumming quickly, nor are you put off by it.

In fact, you're aroused by it. The feeling of Bradley fucking into you so eagerly, so roughly, so needy; it gets you going. You feel another wave of pleasure begin lapping at your underbelly, maybe easier to rise this time because of the swell of the last one. The constant motion of Bradley's thick cock can't be doing any harm, either, and with every flex of his tongue over your neck as he sucks bruises into your skin, you feel your orgasm approaching.

Apparently, the way that your nails dig into Bradley's skin is encouragement for him, as well. Your thighs tremble from the weight of your previous orgasm, and the impending pressure of your next one, and Bradley's dick twitches like it's painful for him to keep it together.

"S'okay, Brad," You pant, scraping a hand up his back to cradle the back of his neck. He's still suckling on your neck, tongue and teeth working in tandem to mar your skin with marks, "S'okay, cum, honey. Feels so good, you- ooh, you feel so fucking good!"

Your encouragement helps, and his dick twitches again. You tug on his hair, and his thighs tense. But what really does it is the way you yank his head back with your fistful or his hair, pulling him out of your neck to kiss him and inviting him to occupy his tongue with your own instead of your throat.

The second your tongue brushes against his own, he cums. It's like a dam bursting, every ounce of arousal he'd tried holding in and prolonging bursting forth from his cockhead straight into your leaking cunt. You're already slick enough from all of your own release, but his gushes from the seam between his cock and your cunt, stretched and fucked dumb.

"Oh, oh my god," Bradley pants, the words flowing directly between your lips as he mouths at your tongue. He's desperate to do something with his mouth, he always has been, and it's no surprise that he'd taken time to appreciate your cunt earlier. He licks over your tongue, his own tucking to the inside of your cheek for a brief second before he sucks at yours again. It only makes your own arousal more intense, and before you know it, your second, possibly more intense orgasm is seizing you, tensing your muscles and spasming through you.

He cums for a long time, dick twitching and spurting cum the more he makes out with you, and the more your cunt convulses around him in your own orgasm. Your kiss is sloppy, it's messy, there's drool leaking down the corners of your mouth, and that's what makes it so effective to stretch out his orgasm. When you're both sure you couldn't cum more if you tried, he slumps over your chest, his full weight on you as he lays panting on your sweaty skin.

"Jesus Christ," He groans, voice broken and raspy with strain, "That- that was- fuck, the best sex we've ever had."

"Mm-hm," You nod lazily, enjoying a rare moment of breathing freely, "Yeah, we- we need to use those chocolates again."

"Yeah," He agrees emphatically, his mustache prickling against the skin at the slope of your breast, "I didn't think it would work. Not like that, Christ."

"I'm glad it did," You muse, and you feel Bradley shift against your thigh, his cock already half-stiff again. He grinds it into you, what you think is accidentally, but his groan lets you know it felt nice.

"Baby," You start, but he's already rubbing up against you once more, humping his hardening cock against your thigh.

"I need- I just need a little more," He almost whimpers, tightening his hold on your upper half, "Babe, I need- more, please!"

"Okay," You soothe, kissing his sweaty forehead, "Okay, here."

You reach down, hand at your side to feel for his cock. It's not hard to find, hot and heavy where he's bucking it against your thigh. You wrap your palm around the shaft, your thumb nudging up against the tip. You flatten your finger against his slit, pumping your hand up the length when it makes him jolt. He keeps his face buried in your chest, drool seeping from his lips and dripping down your breast. You feel it trickle over your nipple, sending a chill up your spine as it cools on your skin.

"Oh my god," He moans, lips desperately roving your skin until they find your nipple. He latches onto it, lips pursed and tongue relentlessly swirling over the stiffened bud. He keeps bucking his hips into your hand, though you're moving your fist to meet him. Remnants of his first orgasm and your second are slicked all up his shaft, and it's adequate lube as you stroke him towards another release.

Bradley's teeth pinch momentarily at your nipple, a sensation that makes you jolt. In doing so, you squeeze his cock slightly, your thumb pressing hard into his slit.

"Fuck!" He gasps, lips parting only to get the word out before wrapping around your nipple once more. Now that he knows what you're sensitive to at the moment he's merciless, nipping and biting and tugging at your tit with his teeth.

You're fucked out beyond belief, but Bradley's dick is practically pulsing in your grip, and the more tense his thighs get, the more restless he is on your tit.

Finally, he breaks away with a breath, "Wait! Wait, I wanna cum on your- in your mouth, babe."

"Okay." You pant, instantly on board, "Here, sit up, and I'll-"

You make to do the same, trying to struggle off of the pillow to prop yourself up against the headboard. But he holds you down with one strong hand, straddling your face instead. His cock hangs thick and heavy between his thighs, an easy reach for you. All you have to do is stick your tongue out and you can lick over half of it, something that makes him buck forwards into your mouth.

You gag slightly as the tip of his cock hits your throat, and he lets out a strangled grunt that tries turning into a whimper at the end. It's a flattering sound, encouraging you to wrap your lips around him and bob your head up and down as best you can while laying down.

it takes only a few sloppy strokes to the base of his cock and a gentle massage to his balls to get him to cum a second time, and you wish you had more time to appreciate the way his thick, toned thighs frame your head. They're nearly suffocating you, tan hunks of flesh and muscle, and want to bite them. You refrain, focusing on tonguing the slit of his cock so that he cums into your mouth.

"Holy shit!" He breathes, tone incredulous as he fucks down your throat, "Yeah, yeah- oh my god, babe, keep sucking, mmf- yeah!"

His cum spurts warm and plentiful over your tongue, something you're grateful for even if you almost choke on it. He pulls himself out of you to give you room to swallow, stroking himself through his orgasm, and he doesn't comment on the weak cough you give when struggling to swallow the cum pooling in your mouth. A drop lands on your lower lip, and you're eager to lick it away once you've finished your mouthful.

Bradley's looming over you now, breathing heavy and still straddling your face. You can't help but turn your head to kiss at his thigh, nipping softly at the muscle there and eliciting a gentle yelp from him.

"Easy," He laughs breathlessly, stroking your cheek, "I can't take any more. Jesus, I'm- I'm fucked out, babe."

"Me too," You agree, breathing equally heavily, "Brad, gimme my phone, I wanna do the- the trend thing."

He might not understand, but he complies. He dismounts from the mattress, thighs sadly no longer caging your head between them, and hands you your phone that's charging on the nightstand.

You cover yourself with the bedsheets while Bradley slips his boxers back on, and he comes when you beckon him to get in frame of the camera beside you. You're both the picture of fucked out, sweaty, panting, swollen lips and glazed-over eyes. You hit record, voice raspy when you speak: "Those chocolate things, they- they work good."

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