#the chat went nuts

[chicagocubsreactions]

Shota Imanaga's first words as a Cub. [x]

[cuubism]

Hi, may I ask about the bachelor au please and thank you:3

omg yes. i made a post once about how unhinged a dreamling Bachelor au would be, and then i actually started writing it XD

it's a bit messy/unformatted right now, because it's a sort of outsider POV structure where it alternates between scenes from the TV show and chat commentary from the internet fandom who are watching 😂 hopefully one day I'll actually write all of it

A scene from probably the last/second-to-last episode of the season. The final two "contestants" in the show were Hob (who Morpheus keeps insisting he doesn't have feelings for despite everything he does proving otherwise) and Thessaly.

--

Morpheus leans on the railing, hunched in on himself. Rain pelts down onto his head, flattening his hair and soaking his clothes. Hob steps out through the sliding door, heedless of the rain, to stand beside him, and rests a hand on Morpheus’s back. Hob: Didn’t work out, then? His voice is softer than usual, almost inaudible over the rain. Not playful, or teasing, as it so often is with Morpheus, it’s just… gentle. Morpheus: She… decided… that she no longer loved me. Hob: Poor darling. Again, it’s not teasing, only a bit… sad. Morpheus: I suppose this means that you win. Hob: Yup. Morpheus curls into him, pressing his face into Hob’s chest with a sob. Hob catches him, wraps his arms around his shoulders, and holds him tight. Hob presses a kiss into his hair. Low enough that it’s clearly intended not to be picked up by the mics, he says— Hob: It’s alright, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay— —as Morpheus keeps crying.

INTERVIEW — HOB Hob’s expression is lacking its usual cheer and mischief. His hair is still wet, as though he’s only recently come in out of the rain. Hob: So I guess I won? Interviewer: You don’t sound happy about it. It takes a moment for Hob to respond. He bites his lip in thought, then sighs. Hob: I— it was just supposed to be a game. I thought— I thought we felt the same way about it, I thought— I didn’t even care if I won at first? So it was just for fun, just this totally ridiculous nightmare of a— He scrubs a hand over his face, messing up his hair. Hob: Seeing Dream like that, I didn’t realize, I didn’t realize what it— Interviewer: ‘Dream’? Hob: Hm? Interviewer: You called him Dream. Hob: Did I?

[hangmanbradshaw]

Longingly staring at my laptop while re-watching Daisy’s filmography as I think about the entire fic brainstorm session @cottagecori and I had about frenemy storm chasers Bradley and Tyler meeting weather service Kate and Jake and the princess and the pauper style switcheroo Jake and Tyler decide to do.

[green-tea-lemonade]

OH MY GOD YOU'RE BACK I'M SO HAPPY!!! YOU ARE MY FAVORITE ARTIST EVER EVER EVER AAAAHHHH

AAAAAA thank you that literally means so much for me to hear!!!!! YESSS!!! I am back!!! >:33

I have so much SolNep content I wanna spew out from silly doodles to very random AU art to actual stories and more!!!!

[hardtchill]

I missed Tobin's stream today cos I went to the match, what did she say about Arsenal!!? Gutted to miss out on gooner Tobin haha

She was basically just fanboying and bashing Chelsea lol.

Girl wanted to make sure no one got the wrong idea. She is a gooner and that's that.

[gtliveoutofcontext]

Mat says-

Mat says next time amy comes over he’ll make sure she gets plenty of *checks notes* wet, decadent, juicy, sopping nuts.

I hate it here

[cherry-shipping]

realized i forgot to post all of these so have another fucking. dumbshit doodle dump featuring various Tiny Sans Moments (and one Big Sans Moment......... sorry)

[risingsunresistance]

finally got to try out the garden btw, not just playtesting and checking it out but ACTUALLY sat down and played it for a bit

I Understand.

[todayisafridaynight]

Someone reblogged your anon-ask about Daigo being 30 in 2006. And his teenage rebellion phase at 30. And yanno what? Yes he does need to grow up. But having just turned 30 not that long ago? I also kinda get it lmfao.

ngl we all act like 30 is the equivalent to like. 95 but listen ima be super cereal and say 30's probably the age where you ACTUALLY start living your life if we wanna have a Real Talk

but daigo needa not spend all his time drinking and crying in cabarets jesus fuck my boy get some game at LEAST

[cursingtoji]

hear me out

[janet-the-interplanet]

WATCHING A PLANE SPOTTING LIVESTREAM RN AND IT IS RIVETING!! NOW I KNOW WHAT SPORTS FANS FEEL LIKE

[mx-mizaqx]

AHHSWBSBHW THIS MOVIE AHSHSBSBS S

"I wish you had let the overlord take me-" The younger oni started off quietly, the slightest tremor betraying his feelings the moment he looked at his paw. The timid remark dying on his tongue as a helpless murmur grew into something louder and more desperate, "I wish you had left me to the oni!"

Before the old oni could offer him their hand, they found their eyes had met his own as he tore his gaze up from his unweilding limbs and cumbersome body. His eyes failing to hide the years of amounted torment and struggle all compacted into a simple journey through the realm! "I CAN FEEL THIS BODY DYING ALL AROUND ME!" Garmadon sobbed, his screech of dismay faltering into nothing but a whine that torn Mystaké's heart open. What seemed to be more like a pup by comparison to their millennias' worth of life was a man stripped of his pride and purpose, offered little more than a lie to repay him for his broken and failing body..

He was no emperor. And he certainly did not make for a convincing monster.

"I cannot turn you into something you are not.." Mystaké frowned to themselves as she knelt down infrong of the weeping soul they had come to love like their own child. "I cannot turn you into a true destructor." They hushed him, large but soft claws grabbing the mop of ivory hair beneath their paw, pulling Garmadon in for a hug that he would never slighted his pride for..

They watched the creases in his face, and alabaster markings crinkled like old parchment as he failed to conceal countless more pain striken sobs.. his battered form looking small and fragile like moulted skin abandoned by some serpent; a husk of a beast now as strong as paper to be caught in the winds of a storm..

[ao3topshipsbracket]

Bonus statistics: the Really Funny Graph Awards

As I've pointed out before, it's often hard to notice voter fraud— even in large quantities— if you can't see, not just how many votes came in, but when and in what patterns. Accusations of fraud don't track fraud, they track controversy; the most fraud often happens in polls that nobody particularly objects to, because nobody was paying attention.

Unless you have a graph in front of you. Fortunately, we do! So here's a brief review of the graphs that made it very, very clear to the mod team group chat that someone was playing silly buggers.

Round 1:

Davekat vs Zolu would almost even look natural, if it weren't for that enormous spike at the day 4 mark. But what a spike! And Akeshu vs Supercorp has those spikes in the middle, but the beginning stages of the graph look maybe fine... if you weren't watching for the first two days, and didn't get to see the progression:

Round 2:

This, on the other hand, couldn't be mistaken for natural by anyone. Look at this nonsense. The stairstep lines! The sharpness of the peaks! The sharpness of the dropoffs, which is how you can tell that this isn't just the poll being reblogged by large accounts, it is one person putting in truly insane amounts of effort! The fraud continuing long after Hualian had a significant lead, apparently just to make sure Buddie couldn't possibly launch a counteroffensive! Isn't it beautiful!

Round 4-5:

And once again, Hualian voters— or, well, some particular Hualian voter— goes nuts. Usually in 1-day polls, the votes come in fast enough that even with a graph it's hard to see if anything's gone wonky. Not so here; that bend in both graphs at around the same time, where I can only assume our frauder stopped for the night and went to bed, is a work of art.

Round 6:

No visible irregularities in the graphs (I assume they were just happy with getting to the semifinals?) but I did see this ask pop up:

I didn't see responses from anyone who took them up on it.

Real talk: This sort of thing is the reason I run poll brackets. This is proof that one person with insane dedication and a lot of time really can be the backbone of a fandom. This is, and I know this is melodramatic but I am being entirely sincere here, a chart of human passion.

Davekat, Akeshu, and especially Hualian— someone loves you very, very much.

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 32 (18+)

a/n: it feels surreal posting this, knowing it's the last update for this fic. thank you @bahablastplz and @chanssoftgalaxy for editing. and thank YOU, dear readers, for taking this journey with me.

[ read chapter 31 here ]

Chapter Thirty-Two: Of Epilogues

TWO YEARS LATER

The silence in the room is deafening, now that you’ve asked everyone to clear out. You had to request a moment of peace amidst the day’s chaos. You let out an exasperated breath and grab a napkin to dab at the unwelcome perspiration exiting your body. You toss the napkin in the small trash can near your feet and resist the urge to rub at your face.

How did you allow yourself to get here?

It’s been a long road, to be sure.

After that weekend with Chan, you were still left with more questions than answers, yet you chose to trust the process. To trust him. He wanted you to meet his parents before they all flew back home, but you had to insist it would be better to wait. To your surprise he accepted your answer and didn’t push the topic any further.

You had to exchange numbers, again, and this time swore to never delete them. Saying goodbye to him for the second time was equally as emotional as the first, but now you had the reassurance that it wasn’t forever. You’d definitely see him again.

From the moment he left, to three months later when he came to visit again you were essentially in non-stop contact with him; if you weren’t texting, you were calling or video chatting. It made the distance easier.

The next time he came to visit was for Thanksgiving (thankfully No Nut November was not being observed). He had the opportunity to meet your parents and though you were a nervous wreck for it, everything went smoothly. They were enamored with him. ‘The son we never had’, is what your dad started calling him. 

That Christmas, Chan flew you to Australia to meet his family and once again you felt like you were going to vomit the entire way. He put you up in a nice hotel—not because you were unwelcome in the house, but because he wanted you to scream his name with passion without fear of his family hearing. It was a good call.

On Christmas Eve you joined his family in their home. It was mostly a warm welcome. His siblings and mother were excited to meet you, but his father took his time warming up to you. Like, a year’s worth. As the months went on, he saw the way you and Chan were together, and you nearly lost it when he admitted you made his son a better man.

With all the support and blessings of your parents, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Chan would propose to you. Yet it caught you so off guard when he did. It wasn’t some huge grand gesture—he knew you wouldn’t like all the attention—so he asked at night, when you were coming out of the bathroom after brushing your teeth. 

You let out a startled scream, seeing him down on one knee as soon as you opened the door. It took you a moment to even register the opened box he was holding in his hand with a diamond ring inside of it.

“Marry me.” he said.

“Chan…”

“I know, I know,” he understood your shock. “There are so many ways I thought of doing this—over dinner, dropping it in your drink, at our park bench, in front of your family…but I couldn’t pick one. And I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“How long have you had this?” you inquire.

“Since I showed up with Berry at your internship.”

Your mouth dropped.

He reached out for your left hand and held it gently in his.

“Marry me.”

He has a way of asking you to do things that sound like more of a demand. You’ve grown accustomed to it now. You no longer fear that it’s a command which you are unable to object to. If this isn’t something you want, you can say no, and he will take you at your word. It doesn’t mean he won’t shoot his shot again later, though.

“Okay,” you replied softly.

The ring fit your finger perfectly.

Now here you are, six months later, preparing to walk down the aisle and marry the man that has changed your life in so many ways. You’d already made the leap to move to Australia, after getting credentialed and licensed there, so this is the last step to really seal the deal.

You know for a fact that Chan is the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. After all he’s shown you in the past two years, there are no lingering doubts. However, the thought of standing at the altar in front of nearly a hundred guests is making you feel anxious.

Your stomach is tied in knots as you slowly raise your gaze to the mirror in front of you.

You hardly recognize the woman in the reflection. She’s clad in a white, off the shoulder bridal gown with sequined lace. The fabric hugs and accentuates her curves in all the right places. Her hair and makeup have been professionally done, too.  

It certainly doesn’t feel like it’s been three years since your time at the SKZ House. But it has. You’ve grown so much both independently and as a partner, yet you still sometimes feel very much like the same young woman that lived there. Looking at yourself now, you have to accept she will always exist within you.

There’s a knock at the door that pulls you from your thoughts.

“Come in,” you call out.

You turn around on the stool you’re sitting on as Hyunjin enters. He’s wearing a dark maroon suit with a black button up shirt beneath it. His long, dark hair is pulled back into a half ponytail, with a couple of bangs left out to frame his face. He is, and always will be, stunning.

“How’s our girl?” he asks with a dazzling smile.

Our girl.

He still insists on calling you that, as if you could ever forget you once belonged to both of them. It wasn’t until nearly a year after Chan came back into your life that you saw any of the other members again. They were all so busy, working underneath their fathers in various roles, that getting them all together in one place proved to be a difficult task.

Seeing them all felt so bittersweet. It made you think of the other girls, and whomever else came before you that truly had to say goodbye to these men forever. You felt incredibly lucky, but sad for them at the same time. Seungmin congratulated you on ‘cheating the system’, while Lee Know joked ‘I thought we got rid of you’. It was nice to see they hadn’t changed too much.

You had a long discussion with Chan about how to approach a renewed relationship with Hyunjin. It was important to you both not to cross any boundaries, but you still had to acknowledge the history the three of you shared. Chan was upfront in telling you that communication—calls, texts, whatever were acceptable. He didn’t even care if you and Hyunjin hung out alone because he trusts both of you completely. He did make it clear, though, that any sexual contact would be done only with his involvement, too.

You were once again left with your mouth hanging open. You hadn’t imagined it would even be an option. It happened twice—the first time you were all drunk, the second time completely sober. It was just as good and magical as the first time, but you never felt a pressing need for it to be a consistent thing. Plus, you wanted to remain respectful if Hyunjin ever brings a partner around. Though, if you left it up to him and Chan they’d probably just try to include her in the mix. And you’re not sure how you’d feel about that.

“Nervous,” you finally reply.

“Getting cold feet?” He pulls up an empty stool next to you and sits down.

You shake your head vigorously.

“There’s just been so much rapid change over the past year and it’s all culminating in this…me walking down that aisle, with all those people watching. And I do not feel like myself in this dress.”

“You know what they’ll be thinking?”

You shake your head again.

“That you’re beautiful. That Chan is lucky to have you. That you’ve both grown so much in the past two years and will do well in the future together.”

You sigh.

“You’re annoyingly helpful, Hyunjin.”

You didn’t quite need him as a shoulder to cry on anymore, but after moving to Australia if you ever felt lonely you would give him a call and he’d cheer you up. He understood the terms of his access to your relationship with Chan and never did anything to cross the line.

“That’s half my charm,” he shrugs.

Your phone on the counter buzzes. You pick it up to view the notification:

Fiancé (real)

I’ll see you in five minutes, Mrs. Bang.

You can’t stop the smile that breaks out across your face. He’s been calling you that since you accepted his proposal. You’ve never gotten tired of hearing it, either.

You set your phone back down on the counter and stand, facing Hyunjin.

“Does everything look okay?”

He stands, too, and helps adjust the train around you.

“Perfect. You’re gorgeous, y/n.”

“Thank you,” you reply softly, looking down to smooth out the front of the dress.

Hyunjin hooks a finger under your chin and lifts your head up.

“It’s fine. Eyes up—I’ll see you out there. I’ll be the other guy standing at the end of the aisle,” he winks at you.

You roll your eyes at that, “Get out of here.”

He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek before exiting the room, leaving the door open. You see your father standing outside and tell him to give you another second.

You turn around to your reflection once more and put the crowned veil in place.

You realize you don’t recognize this woman because she seems so sophisticated, so regal…so genuinely happy. There was a time when you didn’t think any of that was possible for yourself. And now you’re living it.

3 YEARS LATER (Chan POV)

If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past seven years—it’s that I’m not always right. But there are a few things I take pride in being right about. The one at the top of the list?

You.

Seeing you welcome my family into our home for the Christmas holiday with a smile, after everything we’ve been through, reaffirms that I made the right choice in coming to find you.

Standing here next to my father and Lucas, drink in hand, willing myself to listen to him talk trade deals, I can’t take my eyes off you. You’re smiling and laughing, talking with Hannah about God knows what. Probably something at my expense, but I don’t care. Whatever makes you happy.

I watch as my mother comes to your side, showing you something on her phone. Is she talking to you about business too? You have no idea the way my heart fucking soared seeing you two work together for the first time. Mom’s always been a philanthropist, so the fact that you created a charitable organization together, helping serve the underprivileged youth and get them in touch with animals is one of the greatest gifts of our union.

My father purchased the ranch, without hesitation, when you two brought the idea to him. You serve as the on-site veterinarian and thus, still get to have your own career—which you’re thriving in. You’ve come a long way from working with just cats and dogs…do you miss it? Is this too much? I’ve seen the way your eyes light up as you care for the wide array of animals, though, so I know it’s not. You’re right in your element.

The doorbell rings and I step away from my father to answer it, already knowing exactly who it is.

“About time you guys showed up,” I say, opening the door wide and stepping aside to let my brothers in.

All seven of them file in, some with a partner in tow, some still stag.

As soon as they step inside and start greeting everyone, the house becomes so loud it reminds me of our time at the SKZ House. The beginning of our story was tumultuous. You were naïve and I was reckless with it. But we grew together, and here we are.

When I return to the living room, my eyes immediately find you. You can’t hide the smile on your face when you see Hyunjin and his dyed hair—he’s gone back to blonde again. To spite his father, I’m sure. He’s finally settled into his role in their family business, but still finds ways to remain true to himself. I know that’s part of the reason you love him.

I smile, too, watching him embrace you. It’s a long hug, but it doesn’t bother me. He’s been nothing but respectful of our relationship since you came back with me and I’d trust him with my life, so I trust him with yours too.

You’re my girl.

No.

You’re more than that now.

You’re my wife.

I’m pulled into another conversation with Changbin and Jeongin, discussing what they’ve been up to over the past couple of months since I saw them last. I’d rather be standing next to you. Or upstairs in our bedroom with you.

You’d think after this long I would have had my fill…but no. I can never get enough of you.

I’ve also discovered that I can’t get enough of surprising you. Of making you smile.

You don’t know it yet, but your parents will be arriving in a few days to ring in the New Year with us. I know how much you miss them. I know how hard the distance has been for you. I promised to make this work, though. And I will spend every day of the rest of my life doing so.

My parents end up leaving around 10:00pm, Hannah and Lucas stay along with everyone else. As the night carries on with copious amounts of drinking, I urge everyone to pick one of the four guest rooms, if they aren’t going to take an Uber home. Although I love when it’s just us in this massive house, I cherish their safety more than my peace and quiet.

When it approaches 2:00am, games are still being played. I watch you carefully for the signal—a yawn—then let everyone know we’re calling it a night. They’re free to carry on as they wish, but I’m tired of sharing you with them already.

We say our goodnights then make our way upstairs. I walk behind you, watching with a lazy smile as your hips sway from side to side with each step up.

“You regret choosing to host at our house this year?” I ask.

“Not at all,” you reply. “I’m happy to see everyone here.”

“Me too, then.”

You open the door to our bedroom, and I close it behind us. You turn on the hall light that leads to the bathroom and start walking in that direction, but I grab your hand and pull you back to me.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To shower,” you say pointedly, looking up at me.

“Not yet,” I shake my head, walking you towards the bed. “You were so busy playing hostess I hardly got to have my share of you.”

I place my hands on your hips and lift you up. You let out the squeal I love hearing so much as you wrap your legs around my waist.

“This dress looks good on you,” I tell you, walking towards the bed. “All I could think about was getting you back up here all night.”

“Whatever for?” you ask, coyly.

“Aljana neol gamanhi dul su eomneun geol.”

You’ve become more familiar with the Korean language being around my family, but the look on your face says you don’t understand what I’m saying. That’s okay. I fully intend on showing you.

I unhook your legs from my waist and toss you onto the bed.

“Chan,” you say laughing. “You have to be careful with that now.”

I crawl onto the bed in front of you, spreading your legs apart and causing the dress to rise up your thighs. I take the ends into my hand and push it up further, exposing your torso. I lower myself on the bed and shower your stomach in kisses.

“Do you remember what you said that day in the park?” I ask, pulling down your underwear. You lift your hips to let me pull them all the way off.

“That one day, when you have little ones running around, you’ll thank me,” you answer matter-of-factly.

“I do thank you. You were right.”

“Well…they’re not exactly running around yet,” you reply, touching the barely noticeable bump of your belly.

You claim to hardly see the difference, but I see it so clearly. The slight little curve. The tiniest little bean inside. Our little bean.

You stopped taking your birth control six months ago, and we both took great pleasure in trying to make the dream of having our own family a reality.

“We still need to tell everyone,” you add as I take off my shirt.

“Soon. I want to enjoy this secret with you a little longer.”

You sit up and start to pull your dress up to take it off, but I stop you.

“I wanna fuck you with it on.”

I pull down the straps and you take your arms out of them before pushing the top half of the dress down to your stomach. Majority of it sits scrunched up across your abdomen, with all the best parts of you on display.

Well, your mind and your heart are definitely the best parts of you because they chose me. But your physical attributes are second best, only to them. 

“No bra?” I ask rhetorically, seeing your exposed breasts.

“Too constricting,” you say with a light shrug.

I lower myself to your breasts, taking each nipple into my mouth, in turn. A delectable moan escapes your lips and I can feel my cock start to harden through my jeans. You have no idea how sexy you are. Seven years in and the slightest touch or sound from you can set me off. I kiss my way down your torso, stopping to pay special attention to your stomach again, causing you to giggle.

You’re carrying my child inside of you. I didn’t think I could love you anymore, but I’ve realized I can. It continues to grow each and every day. I would do anything for you. For both of you.

When I reach my home between your legs, I inhale your scent, rubbing my nose around your folds. This is why I couldn’t let you shower. I love the natural smell of you. No soaps, no lotions. Just you. I stick my tongue out and press a long, hard lick up your slit.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” you say.

“Naekkeo,” I reply.

You know this word all too well.

Mine.

You’ve been mine for seven years—even through our time apart.

Your hands tangle themselves in my hair, pulling on the strands as I tease you with my mouth and tongue. Your pussy’s getting so wet. You love it when I play with you. You love it when I fuck you with my tongue.

I feel it when your legs start to tremble, when your back arches off the bed—you’re close. So I stop.

You collapse back onto the bed, breathless and annoyed.

It’s so fucking cute.

“Chan,” you whine.

“On your knees,” I tell you.

“Excuse me?” you ask, arching an eyebrow. “Is that how you speak to your wife? The future mother of your child?”

I smile at that.

“On your knees…please.”

You scrunch up your face, but still do as you’re told. I step off the bed to unbutton my pants and push them down along with my boxers. I grip my cock in my hand as I beckon you towards me with a curl of my finger. Your eyes are on my cock as you crawl to me.

You’re hungry for it, aren’t you?

You’ve wanted me just as bad all day.

Your eyes snap up to mine as you open your mouth, and I feel my pulse quicken.

The things you do to me, y/n.

I place a hand on the back of your head and guide your mouth to my cock. Your eyes flutter shut as you take it inside, licking around the tip before sliding your head back and forth on it. It feels so fucking good.

Before you can get too carried away, I take a step back, pulling my cock out of your mouth. At the sudden withdrawal, you look up at me with a pout on your lips.

“Chan.”

I love the way you say my name. Especially at times like this.

“Turn around,” I instruct.

You turn around on the bed, pointing your ass towards me. I grab your hips and pull you to the edge of the bed, taking a second to admire my view. You really do have a beautiful ass. You hate the littering of stretchmarks that formed there, but I love every single one of them. I don’t need you to perfect. I just need you to be mine.

I grip my cock at the base again and rub the tip up and down your slit.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” I ask.

You rock your hips back in an act of defiance, clearly not wanting a long, drawn out teasing session tonight. I can understand, it is nearly two in the morning, after all. We aren’t as young as we once were.

But, still.

I want a verbal answer.

I smack your ass with the palm of my hand and you moan in response.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” I ask again.

“Yes.” You reply, and I can hear the pout in your voice.

“Are you sure?” I ask, slowly inserting the tip.

It takes everything in me not to slam into you like this. I pull it back out, and resume rubbing it up and down your slippery folds.

“Yes,” you say again. “Banjjak, jebal.”

It’s not only your word choice that catches me off guard, but your pronunciation too. You’ve been practicing. And it completely fucks with me, hearing that desperate plea in my mother tongue.

I thrust my hips forward, slamming into you with force.

Banjjak. Jebal.

My other half. Please.

Fuck. You still find ways to make me crumble.

I grip your rumpled up dress in one hand, careful to make sure it’s just under your rib cage and not around your stomach as I use it for leverage, pulling you back against me. You take on some of the work, arching yourself and fucking me back.

Your pussy feels so good around my cock. Too good.

Tight.

Wet.

Mine.

I feel your walls clench around my cock, and I know neither of us will last much longer. Not after the day we’ve had, being on our best behavior in front of others. Your ass and thighs jiggle, each time our bodies connect, and the sight is going to send me over the edge too.

“Come for me, baby,” I say, leaning back to watch as my cock thrusts in and out of you.

Your hands grip the sheets as you come around my cock and I let myself go, too. You moan as I loudly groan, slowing down my thrusts as I spill inside of you.

There’s always so much I want to do to you, every time we fuck. Handcuffs. Collars. Restraints. Spreader bars. We’ve entered a new experimental phase of our love making.

And that’s what it is. I don’t just fuck you anymore.

No matter the context, no matter the equipment. We’re making love because you are mine and I am yours. In every way possible.

You collapse onto the bed, and I lay down beside you, scooping you up in my arms to pull you close to me.

“Just what I needed,” you say with a happy sigh, turning around to face me.

“There’s more where that—”

“Slow your roll,” you tap my lips with your finger. “I need a shower and sleep. Then maybe I’ll think about it in the morning.”

I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively and you laugh. You know, by now, that it’s not just about the physicality of our relationship. Although I love it, I enjoy having your presence around me more.

I don’t know where I would be if you hadn’t taken me back all those years ago.

I don’t want to know.

I don’t want to think about it.

And thank fuck I’ll never have to find out.

a/n: and that's all, folks. from 11/29/23 to 10/25/24. 32 chapters. 153,021 words (and a few hundred typos, i'm sure haha). what a wild fucking ride. i cannot thank you all enough for reading this story--for liking, reblogging and sharing your thoughts with me. i appreciate it more than i could ever express through words. your continued support has left me speechless! and has warmed up my cold little heart.

thank you, thank you, thank you 💜

A note for any future readers: I will always be logged into tumblr so continue to share your feedback! Even if it’s months from now, I will still appreciate it!

[sunni-stuff]

You, Me, and a Screen.

—★! NSFW, MDNI, AFAB! Ghost likes to show off what he's got.

—★! Part 2 here!!

Alright, We've all heard about y/n having only fans and Ghost going absolutely nuts for her but what if the roles were reversed?

You're a dedicated worker, or perhaps more accurately, a merciless taskmaster, given the number of hours you put in at your job every week. Time off was a luxury you weren't granted, so your apartment became your only sanctuary for any sense of peace. As soon as your feet crossed the threshold, all the tension in your body melted away. The comforting scent of home enveloped you, welcoming you after a long day.

Your uniform is swiftly tossed aside, forgotten in mere moments - soon you're in more comfortable clothes, a pair of shorts, and a simple t-shirt. Lunch went bust earlier when one of your coworkers needed someone to cover their shift, leaving you hungry. So now you're lounging in bed with your laptop, snacking on your favorite bag of chips while aimlessly browsing various websites, searching for something to watch or any form of entertainment really.

An accidental click causes a popup ad to disrupt your screen, flashing and intruding on your space. The damn ad blocker hardly ever works. You close it, thinking it was just a minor disturbance, only to have another one immediately take its place. With an annoyed click of your tongue, you go to close the tab once more, but something on the page catches your eye and stops you.

You pause, eyes narrowing - you stare intently at the dark laptop screen. Suddenly, you see it again - movement. It's a live stream. A chat window pops out and now a man's figure steps out from the darkness in the background. The camera only shows him from the neck down, but it's clear that he is a man based on the grunt he makes as he sits down. His face remains hidden, but you can see tattoos peeking out from under his long-sleeved black turtleneck.

He remains silent, shifting in his seat to get comfortable. The chat room erupts with excitement at the mere sight of him, begging and pleading for him to perform for their eager eyes. His cargo pants reveal a visible tent, adding to the anticipation of the audience who came for this very show.

"What a needy bunch." His words resonated with a deep rumble, colored by a distinct British accent.

A chill runs down your spine as his voice fills the room, captivating you completely. He lets out a deep chuckle as his large hand rests on it, hidden beneath the fabric. You lean in closer, fixated on the bulge that visibly twitches under his touch.

Ding

A donation of 100 pounds comes through with an attached message: "Stop teasing, GD!"

GD? You're puzzled by the username "GD" and scroll down, hoping to find some information about them. You expect to see a bio, but instead, there's nothing - no age, name, or any other details. The only thing present is their username: "Going Dark".

"Donating won't make me go faster, sweetheart," GD responds with a sly tone, causing the audience in the chat to protest. Yet, donations continue to pour in, raining down on the enigmatic man with seemingly never-ending wealth.

He pauses, leaning back in his chair as he slides his hand down his cargo pants and into his trousers. A pleasurable groan escapes his lips as he starts to palm himself. The audience is captivated, waiting for the moment when he will finally reveal himself. He takes his time, slowly pulling out his length from within his pants.

The head of his penis is an angry red, oozing with precum. He may not be long, but he makes up for it in width and girth. He could easily fill you up and leave you feeling him inside you for days.

Your mouth goes dry and your eyes stay glued to the sight before you - him. You've seen penises before, but never one like this. It's almost… intimidating. How can someone have such a thing just attached to their body? Your gaze follows his every movement, from the delicate way he rubs the tip to the contented hums he makes when someone donates. This man is like a jack-in-the-box, waiting to pop out once he's ready.

He keeps moving his hips, pumping into his hand with varying rhythms as he gasps for air. One moment he's going at a slow and steady pace, not holding back on his moans of pleasure. And then he switches to a relentless speed, chasing a pleasure that only he knows, his arousal leaving slick traces on his hand with each movement, the sound of wetness accompanying this pace.

GD gets closer, you can see his hips falter and shudder before rising to meet his hand. He pushes himself to the edge, then slows down and falls back into a rhythm, ready to start over again. Your panties are drenched at this point from watching him pleasure himself. The way he moves is incredibly erotic, even though all he's doing is stroking himself.

Ding

250 Donation: "GD, give us a money shot?"

There is no verbal response, but the way he grips his cock tightly tells you he read the message. GD quickens his pace, tighter and harder, as if trying to chase away any thoughts or distractions. His breaths are ragged and heavy, his movements becoming sloppy and uncoordinated as his hips demand more. He leans back in the chair, moaning in pleasure as his cock explodes, releasing thick ropes of cum that cover his chest beneath his clothes.

He remains still, not making a sound or uttering a single word. His chest rises and falls with each breath, the only indication of his exhaustion. Just when you think the performance is over and he has used up all of his energy, he suddenly sits up, his face still concealed. He leans over and grabs something from the desk nearby. To your surprise, it's a bottle of lubricant and a pocket pussy.

The anticipation built, and soon he was ready for another round. His member stood tall once again, eager to continue the pleasure. The previous climax faded into insignificance, as he was already eager for more. "I know you all want this, wishing it was your cunt," GD taunted with a smirk, his husky voice echoing in your ears. "What a bunch of naughty girls.."

GD coated his hands with lubricant, adding even more moisture to his already slick cock, making it shine in the dim light. He took his time, moving his hands up and down his shaft in a slow, deliberate rhythm. He gave attention to his balls, squeezing and massaging them gently as they were heavy with cum.

With a joyful hum, he set the lube aside and grasped the pocket pussy firmly with both hands. He teased the opening with his tip, gliding up and down its artificial folds, trying hard to suppress a moan. GD's self-control was reaching its limit; he couldn't resist any longer. He was on the verge of entering, penetrating this sinful paradise, tip just about to push through.

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