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#typing this out actually made me sick
ashersanity · 4 months
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content warning! non-con, past abuse, specific depictions
Shit. I sure do wonder who that character could be. Couldn’t possibly be the pissy blonde bully who acts overtly aggressive straight off the bat, demanding to be taken seriously, to be feared of so no one dares to mess with them. Couldn’t possibly be the delinquent who’s only way to gain some sense of control in this messed up town filled with rapists is to do the same as the others, reenacting their vile acts on PC instead. Couldn’t be Whitney whose uncle/aunt is a sailor, having been associated with them for a long while now, having grown up with them, like a family. We know how sailors are in this game. Rapey, grabby hands groping where they shouldn’t. Couldn’t be the helpless squirms of younger Whitney, unable to do anything as they’re touched all over by older, perverted adults.
Couldn’t be how they actually were passed around like some sort of fuck toy at the docks like it was nothing, just another fish the sailors caught once more. As if Whitney didn’t immediately burst into tears the second they were grabbed for by the other people from the underground brothel. Why so quick to cry, Whitney? Familiar memory seeping making its way into your mind once more? Something you’ve pushed deep down inside yourself, only to resurface at the worst of moments, right in front of your own victim that you utilize to feel some sort of semblance, power and control over yourself? Do those hands all over your body make you remember something? Make you remember what happened? What shouldn’t be uttered among the peers at school, their hungry gazes all over you? The ones that make your skin crawl? Are you sure that you’re really all that untouchable, Whitney?
But, that’d be crazy. I’m just spouting bullshit again.
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humanmorph · 6 months
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"They found each other in the wreckage of optimism, and it took them a decade to decide that hope was not enough to save the Golden Branch from itself. It was in a library, not an armoury, where the Apostolosian became the sword and shield of Integrity, a Divine who’d lost its Candidate. Some climb into their Divines, others deploy them across the battlefield, or fight under the blanket of their shadows. But Integrity demands intimacy. It digs into the flesh of the willing, all metal and promises and penetralia, desperate to create an unbreakable unity. It is afraid, and wounded, and it cannot know the power it gives without seeing it first in the reflection of a Candidate's eyes: the loft, the velocity, the violence. And for the first time in centuries, Integrity doesn’t fear its Candidate. It moves with confidence, in muscle and ambition. It believes in Sokrates Nikon Artemisios." (COUNTER/Weight 22: A Broken Branch)
Great episode to get to after recent palisade happenings. I obviously remember the "Integrity demands intimacy" but there's so much other great stuff here.... "They found each other in the wreckage of optimism" is just incredible.
Edit: Noting the wording of " [...] the Apostolosian became the sword and shield of Integrity" because Integrity literally is both those things - they are the armor Sokrates wears and the weapon they wield - but it positions them here both as a protector of Integrity and someone Integrity acts through (divines & candidates!).
And I love that this gives Integrity pre-Sokrates interiority I had honestly completely forgotten about. "For the first time in centuries, Integrity doesn't fear it's candidate" A divine afraid(!) of what it can do together with it's candidate, the power it gives. And then what Austin describes in pal29 comes to mind, which is like, "if there was a time when Integrity was like, you know, 'Finally someone has come to help me get out of this situation.' That is not what's happening here." It's interesting because that phrasing of if not the current but a past state("that time has come and gone ")... it still sounds like fear a little bit. And that obviously isn't the case anymore (I don't feel like typing out this Austin quote but he said something about the notion of immortality & change that made me real happy. I love that shit) & I'm curious to learn more about this hopefully.
I love Integrity & while I don't think of it as "the good one", it's fate is important to me because is still one of the sickest divines (which is really saying a lot with like, Perennial and Motion et al. around).
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nametakensff · 3 months
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Have you guys ever been so disgusted by family snz that you actually start crying
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agaritas · 2 months
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i know we’re shifting into springtime but climate anxiety has me genuinely unsettled and nervous abt the temperature not being freezing anymore 😭 like i let out a big sigh of relief when i saw the forecast predicting snow this weekend as if i was seeing a negative pregnancy test. this is all almost exclusively ronald reagan’s fault i will not expand upon that
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justanotherfanartist · 3 months
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idr who it was but somebody I reblogged a post on a while back in which I dumped a bunch of random personal stuff in the tags if you see this this is for you 🙏🙏 also I’m lying I’m just a yapper
#I love turning tumblr into my personal diary knowing this will probably just get buried in the annels of my blog#I’m sure that’s not how you spell that but wtv#anyways grrrr I love men I love figuring out my type#I’ve dated three guys who all coincidentally happen to be relatively tall skinny athletic types#not an intended pattern btw it just happened like that#but now I am experiencing the true joy of variety#gahhhh I love body fat I love guys with body fat I am sick in the head for men who are squishy and have tummies and ass#it’s not my fault that kinda guy just happens to be the center snare in drumline it’s the curse of band kid I guess#holy shit I need to stop dating people in my band actually Jesus Christ it’s two already. see but like or I could collect the set#and go for all different instruments or categories#I’ve got brass (trombone) and woodwind (tenor sax) down#so like percussion?? mayhaps#our drumline is exclusively made up of three types of people for some reason#a) every girl is legit cool a bit masc and definitely gay (I know two personally and a third that fits the bill) and very skilled#b) very much oddball types who nobody in the band gets along with because they actively make people uncomfortable (hard to describe)#c) most grey-sweatpants straight guy you’ve ever seen who just happens to be reserved n semiattractive. looking at two of them in particula#(section leader and center snare specifically) third category hits hard#not my fault the center snare is stupid pretty and reserved and kinda squishy <- on the floor drooling#and like. a good snare#idk what happened to me but as soon as I became a musician people being able to play well became VERY attractive to me#curse of band kid once again#I’m genetically predisposed to it it’s fine <- raised by two divorced music majors#in particular an alto sax and the center snare are two guys that stick as me having a moment of like oh wow they’re *good*. haha that’s hot#alto sax is a killer jazz player and I’m psyched I get to trio with him and one of the drumline girls (my favorite tgirl fr)#although they’re both way better than I am so I’m really the weak link here#which is a hard asf sell given that they want me on bass <- I am a decent-to-mid rhythm guitarist at best#but wtv. everything I do I do for jazz#the most personal information I will likely ever admit to (I am lying I will vaguely yap about myself all day long)
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evanbuckleysarms · 10 months
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Look. I really like my new job SOOOO much more than my old job. Its a non-toxic environment, I have sooo much autonomy, and I am making more money.
But damn do I miss working somewhere that actually took my dietary restrictions into account
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keeps-ache · 2 years
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i'm being pulled in every which way while the Actual Physical Phantom Pressure torments me
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tearlessrain · 1 month
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please help me- i used to be pretty smart but i’m having so much trouble grasping the concept of diegetic vs non-diegetic bdsm!
gfkjldghfd okay first of all I'm sorry for the confusion, if you're not finding anything on the phrase it's because I made it up and absolutely nobody but me ever uses it, but I haven't found a better way to express what I'm trying to say so I keep using it. but now you've given me an excuse to ramble on about some shit that is only relevant to me and my deeply inefficient way of talking and by god I'm going to take it.
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SO. the way diegetic and non-diegetic are normally used is to talk about music and sound design in movies/tv shows. in case you aren't familiar with that concept, here's a rundown:
diegetic sound is sound that happens within the world of the movie/show and can be acknowledged by the characters, like a song playing on the stereo during a driving scene, or sung on stage in Phantom of the Opera. it's also most other sounds that happen in a movie, like the sounds of traffic in a city scene, or a thunderclap, or a marching band passing by. or one of the three stock horse sounds they use in every movie with a horse in it even though horses don't really vocalize much in real life, but that's beside the point, the horse is supposed to be actually making that noise within the movie's world and the characters can hear it whinnying.
non-diegetic sound is any sound that doesn't exist in the world of the movie/show and can't be perceived by the characters. this includes things like laugh tracks and most soundtrack music. when Duel of Fates plays in Star Wars during the lightsaber fight for dramatic effect, that's non-diegetic. it exists to the audience, but the characters don't know their fight is being backed by sick ass music and, sadly, can't hear it.
the lines can get blurry between the two, you've probably seen the film trope where the clearly non-diegetic music in the title sequence fades out to the same music, now diegetic and playing from the character's car stereo. and then there are things like Phantom of the Opera as mentioned above, where the soundtrack is also part of the plot, but Phantom of the Opera does also have segments of non-diegetic music: the Phantom probably does not have an entire orchestra and some guy with an electric guitar hiding down in his sewer just waiting for someone to break into song, but both of those show up in the songs they sing down there.
now, on to how I apply this to bdsm in fiction.
if I'm referring to diegetic bdsm what I mean is that the bdsm is acknowledged for what it is in-world. the characters themselves are roleplaying whatever scenarios their scenes involve and are operating with knowledge of real life rules/safety practices. if there's cnc depicted, it will be apparent at some point, usually right away, that both characters actually are fully consenting and it's all just a planned scene, and you'll often see on-screen negotiation and aftercare, and elements of the story may involve the kink community wherever the characters are. Love and Leashes is a great example of this, 50 Shades and Bonding are terrible examples of this, but they all feature characters that know they're doing bdsm and are intentional about it.
if I'm talking about non-diegetic bdsm, I'm referring to a story that portrays certain kinks without the direct acknowledgement that the characters are doing bdsm. this would be something like Captive Prince, or Phantom of the Opera again, or the vast majority of bodice ripper type stories where an innocent woman is kidnapped by a pirate king or something and totally doesn't want to be ravished but then it turns out he's so cool and sexy and good at ravishing that she decides she's into it and becomes his pirate consort or whatever it is that happens at the end of those books. the characters don't know they're playing out a cnc or D/s fantasy, and in-universe it's often straight up noncon or dubcon rather than cnc at all. the thing about entirely non-diegetic bdsm is that it's almost always Problematic™ in some way if you're not willing to meet the story where it's at, but as long as you're not judging it by the standards of diegetic bdsm, it's just providing the reader the same thing that a partner in a scene would: the illusion of whatever risk or taboo floats your boat, sometimes to extremes that can't be replicated in real life due to safety, practicality, physics, the law, vampires not being real, etc. it's consensual by default because it's already pretend; the characters are vehicles for the story and not actually people who can be hurt, and the reader chose to pick up the book and is aware that nothing in it is real, so it's all good.
this difference is where people tend to get hung up in the discourse, from what I've observed. which is why I started using this phrasing, because I think it's very crucial to be able to differentiate which one you're talking about if you try to have a conversation with someone about the portrayal of bdsm in media. it would also, frankly, be useful for tagging, because sometimes when you're in the mood for non-diegetic bodice ripper shit you'd call the police over in real life, it can get really annoying to read paragraphs of negotiation and check-ins that break the illusion of the scene and so on, and the opposite can be jarring too.
it's very possible to blur these together the same way Phantom of the Opera blurs its diegetic and non-diegetic music as well. this leaves you even more open to being misunderstood by people reading in bad faith, but it can also be really fun to play with. @not-poignant writes fantastic fanfic, novels, and original serials on ao3 that pull this off really well, if you're okay with some dark shit in your fiction I would highly recommend their work. some of it does get really fucking dark in places though, just like. be advised. read the tags and all that.
but yeah, spontaneous writer plug aside, that's what I mean.
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truckstoptigers · 11 months
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i feel like i need to tell my sister's mom about what he did
it doesn't sit well with me that there could be a possibility he's hurting her or has hurt her the same way. she's eleven just like i was when it stopped
i feel like i'm responsible because i'm the one that left. i feel like i left her. i left her with him and i didn't look back why didn't i say anything she was so little why didn't i tell?
i don't really believe in god but i pray our father hasn't already done the same to her
i don't know if i could take it
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satorusugurugurl · 1 month
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JJK Men: FWB? No, I wanna be your boyfriend!
Summary: Your Friends with Beneifit's partner realizes they want to be more!
Characters: Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, FAB!Reader
Word Count: 3,957
Warnings: FWB, smut, oral sex, fluffy feelings, public sex
A/N: Ah, FWB, but more. Delicious smut; the brainworms were good to me! 🤣❤️
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Nanami Kento:
Nanami pouted, his eyes focused on your back as some guy flirted with you. He hated seeing other people looking at his best friend like you were just a snack. It made him sick to his stomach. No one would treat you better than him. But you two agreed: friends with benefits, nothing more than that. All because Nanami thought it would help with not ruining your friendship.
And it did. Things were never awkward. You both had sex, got off, and it was perfect! No more creepy Tinder dates for you; Nanami wasn't stressed out as much. Plus, he got to remain friends with you. The arrangement was without flaw. Expect moments like this.
When he saw other people watching you, how you flirted back with the smile that had him raging, he wanted the source of your smile. Usually, when this sort of thing happened, he turned away, but something about this guy had him on edge. He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat, something to take home and fuck. You didn't deserve that. You deserve the best.
“Ooh, they fuckin.” Nanami flushed deep red as he turned to glare at Gojo, who was whispering to Geto.
“Satoru, please, it's rude to assume that,” Geto whispered back, eyeing Nanami. It was when the dark-haired man saw the flush on Nanami’s face and neck that he gaped. “Oh my god, they are fuckin’.”
“Shut up, we're just friends with benefits.”
“Oooh, Suguru, do you want to tell him?”
“Mmm nah, you go ahead, Satoru.”
Gojo leaned forward, smirking at Nanami. “Friends with Benefits don't glare daggers at strangers their FWB is talking to. Not unless they want more~.” With flushed cheeks, Nanako got up, downing the last of his drink. “Ooh, what are you going to do?!”
“Fuck you.”
“Eeeh, sorry buddy, that's Suguru’s job!”
“Satoru.” Geto purred with a smirk.
Nanami could care less about who was fucking who in their relationship. The only person he was concerned with fuckin was you. But not in the way he usually would, no, not anymore.
He stormed towards you, grabbing your wrist gently. The sudden contact had you jumping as Nanami pulled you up. He didn't say a word as he dragged you away from the asshole hitting on you. You were too stunned to speak as Nanami pulled you into the bathroom, taking you to the back stall.
Standing in the corner, you gawked as he locked the stall door. “Okay, what the actual fuck Nanami?” You were slightly annoyed, tapping your shoe against the dirty tile floor. “I was enjoying my conversation with that guy!”
“The guy that looked at you like you were a piece of ass?”
His straightforward response caught you off guard. “Huh?”
“That guy would take you home, fuck you, and never call you back because that’s the type of guy he looks like!”
“Oh? And since when do you concern yourself with my dating life? We're friends, Nanami! You're not my boyfriend!”
“Oh, I'm much more than just a friend!” Nanami crowded you, slamming both hands on the wall on either side of your head. “I’m your best friend! I'm your colleague! I’m your lover!”
His anger left the two of you stunned; your heart was racing as he inched closer to you. “You set up our arrangement. You said this was for the best; we wouldn't ruin our friendship if we kept it casual. You said that!” Nanami watched your cheeks burn, your eyes avoiding his at all costs.
“You're right. This was my arrangement. And I don't think I can do it anymore.”
That caught your attention, Y/E/C eyes finding his honey-brown ones in a flash. “What?! No, why?!” Nanami’s large hand cupped your face.
“Because I find myself wanting more. I want you, Y/N, I want all of you.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
The confession, the anger, all of that collided together in a heated kiss. You both made quick work; you unbuckled his belt, and he slid your dress up past your hips, moving your panties to the side. When you were in a moment like this, you moved in sync. There were no fumbling or awkward movements. Just perfect flowing movements, much like dancers or ice skaters who had been perfecting their art for decades. That was the perfect way to describe how you and Nanami moved together.
Your back was against the cold stall, legs wrapped around Nanami’s hips as he fucked you. His cock slid in and out of you like it had done hundreds of times before, finding a rhythm he knew the two of you enjoyed. That was one of the many joys of fucking your best friend. Everything was easy and comfortable.
“Nanami, fuck your cock is so big.”
”Yeah? Your pussy is tight; it’s like they were made for each other.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, moaning in surprise as his hips snapped forward. “It’s like a puzzle.” Your words were meant to be a joke, based on what he said. But they meant the world to Nanami.
”Yes, you’re right.” His lips found yours, nipping at your lips. “That’s exactly what you are to me, Y/N.” His hips moved harder, the stall creaking under the force as you yelped out in pained pleasure. The tip of his cock hitting your cervix with each powerful thrust.
”W-What am I to you?” Nanami mewled as your fingers ran through his hair before rubbing against his undercut. “Tell me.” Your voice was caught in a moan as one of his hands reached down, rubbing your clit. “N-Nana, fuck, fuck yes.”
”You’re my other half, my missing piece.” He growled against your skin, his hot tongue licking at your pulse. “You’re my favorite person.” He chuckled, teeth grazing your skin. “And I want to be with you.”
You were hearing the words you had been wanting to hear for years sent you into orgasmic bliss. You screamed, pussy clamping down on Nanami, milking him as he grunted against your skin. His hips slammed against you, his hot cum filling you to the brim until his cock had gone soft. He kept you pinned against the stall, breathing heavily against your flushed skin before he felt your hands lazily play with his hair again.
When he pulled back to meet your gaze, he swore his heart skipped a beat. You were smiling so softly, with an expression he’d never seen. A mixture of satisfaction and happiness. It had butterflies, butterflies of all things swarming around the pit of his stomach. He can’t stop leaning in, kissing you the softest he’s ever kissed.
”So,” you whispered against his lips, “does this mean you’ll finally stay the night with me?”
Nanami shakes his head with a chuckle as the two of you readjust your clothes and straighten your hair. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll stay the night, and then I’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.” He gently takes your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “How does that sound, Y/N?” You didn’t even need to respond for Nanami to know your answer. The wide grin and sparkle in the blue lights of the bathroom said it all.
”Sounds like a dream come true!”
Geto Suguru:
You looked at the clock with a groan, digging through your closet. You were going to be late for your date Shoko had set up. Your stupid cardigan had gone missing again. It was the only one you had, seeing as the other was on your desk chair at work. You couldn’t just go out in the early spring evening without a sweater! It was too hot for long sleeves and hoodies.
Lucky for you, Geto Suguru, your roommate's best friend, and your FWB had a sweater. One he was not currently using. You hurried out of your room, searching for the dark-haired man. He was in the living room, looking through the books, when he heard your heels clicking over the floor.
”Hey, do you still have that book I let you borr-“ Suguru choked on his words when he turned to look down at you. You were in a tight black lace bra, a push-up one that made your breasts look plumper than usual. The matching thong barely covered your pussy, leaving little to the imagination. “What the hell are you doing?!” Suguru barked out, head whirling for any peering eyes that might not be his own.
”Relax, Satoru has seen me naked before.” Seeing Suguru’s eyebrows ccock up, you shook your head. “Chill out. I forgot to lock the bathroom door. I haven't slept with him.” Your eyes did a glance over the living room, pouting when you couldn’t find your sweater still. “Could I borrow your sweater? I can’t find mine, and I would rather not freeze tonight.”
Relieved to know Satoru had only seen you naked by accident, Suguru shrugged out of his black sweater, promptly handing it to you. “Where are you going? Book club, drinks with the girls?” You answered with a shake of your head, heading back to the bedroom.
”Nope, I got a date.”
Before you could take another step, Suguru held your wrist. You turned your head, looking at him from over your shoulder. His dark eyes were wide, gaze locked on yours. It was shocking to see him so stunned. He was usually calm and collected.
You turned around, looking him over, trying to pinpoint the source of his shock. While your Y/E/C eyes searched over him, his hands ran up your arms, gently holding you. This was a side of him you never saw, so gentle and unsure.
“Date? What do you mean you have a date?”
“Oh, yeah, Shoko set it up for me.” Suguru clenched his teeth, his eyes now roamed over your body. He was taking in the curves and dips of your skin. Every part he had caressed and kissed. “She said it was time for me to get back on the playing field.”
Shaking his head, Suguru gently ran his hands up to your shoulders. “Why? You have me. Don't I satisfy your needs?” You laughed, cocking an eyebrow up at him. “Why are you looking at me like that, Y/N? I'm being serious!” His frustration only made you giggle more as you shook your head in disbelief.
“Suguru, you told me that you didn't want a relationship. That what we had was just sex. Someone we could turn to when we were horny, no strings attached.”
“I know I said that.”
“Then why are you being so weird about me going out on a date?”
Yeah, why was the thought of you going out with someone else making his stomach do cartwheels? You both agreed to hook up whenever you wanted. But just because you fucked, didn't mean you were his girlfriend. He had specified that part himself.
The no-strings-attached policy was just something he had said in the spur of the moment. He had so many thoughts running through his mind as the two of you made out. Would Satoru be mad at him for sleeping with his roommate? Would it make things awkward for the two of you when he came over? In the heat of the moment, three months ago, that was the most reasonable thing he thought to say.
”Because I want to be the only person you date.” His words were confident and to the point. Not leaving any thoughts of doubt behind.
You were still left staring at him in utter confusion. “But you said no strings attached!?” Your brain was beginning to hurt with the back-and-forth banter.
“Ugh!” He released you, throwing his head back. “I know I said that and trust me, I wish I could take back that singular sentence. I was thinking about all the ifs and ands when I should have been focusing on the cold, hard truth.” He began pacing, his eyes glued to the floor as he continued to rant. “The truth is, I like you. I’ve liked you for the last year, but I didn’t want to make you feel weird or have Satoru pissed off that I slept with you.”
“Suguru.”
“But sleeping with you made me like you even more! I just fuck; I regret saying that because I don’t want to be friends with benefits anymore. I want to be the one taking you out on dates! I want to be the only guy in your bed and vice versa. After we hooked up, I deleted all the dating apps, and I just.” He huffed out a sigh, turning to look at you. “I want you.”
Fuck, he shouldn’t have ranted like that. But what else could he have done? He had to get it off his chest before you went on your date. At least let you know how he felt before you went out with someone else. The ball was in your court now. That might be the most terrifying part of this whole mess he found himself in.
His dark eyes were glued to the floor as he listened to your heels clicking as you stood before him. Bracing himself for rejection or anything else, Suguru looked up, meeting your flushed face and a wide smile. Seeing you like that had him stepping forward, closing the distance between you.
”You deleted all of your dating apps after the first time we hooked up?” He nodded his head. “In the last three months, you haven’t been with anyone but me?’ Another nod. “You want to be with me?”
”Yes! I want that more than anything.”
You threw your arms around him, kissing him deeply as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling tight against him. Your kiss held as much truth as his words had. It was feverish, deep, and full of passion. You were conveying the truth of your feelings for him without using words.
By the time you managed to pull yourself away, both of you were panting heavily. “Let me cancel this date, then maybe we could go out.” You breathed out between gasps. “I’m happy to have a boyfriend now, but I was sort of looking forward to getting eaten out tonight.” As your message went through, Suguru had you in his arms, tossing your phone on the couch.
Suguru had your back pinned against the wall, legs over his shoulders, as his hands held your ass. You gripped the wall as best as you could, heart racing from being so high off the ground as Suguru licked and sucked at your clit through your lace panties. He lapped and sucked at you like a man dying of thirst. His feral actions had you grabbing his smooth, dark hair, pulling it as you rocked against his face.
Suguru hummed, glancing at you before prodding your dripping entrance with his tongue. As he did, his heart almost stopped. His tongue had slid through a tiny opening in the center, meeting your dripping cunt. Eyes shot to your face, seeing the smirk tugging at your kiss-swollen lips.
“Never heard of crotchless panties, Sugu?”
There was no snarky remark or comeback. Just his tongue burying itself deep inside of you. You cried out, eyes shutting tight as he brushed his nose over your clit, shaking his head back and forth. You felt dizzy as his tongue swirled inside of you, lapping and rubbing against your inner walls.
Suguru was so skilled at using his mouth. His tongue mapped out every part of your pussy and entrance. The man loved to eat you out and make you feel so good. If his girlfriend wanted to get her pussy eaten, by god, she would. He'd make sure you’d never be left unsatisfied. If it took hours to make you cum on his tongue, then he'd take those hours, not stopping until you came, coating his face with your essence.
He was so worked up, just thinking about eating you out, making you feel good, that he groaned as you tugged hard on his hair. Little moans of ‘Suguru’ and ‘im cumming’ was all he could register before you were squirting all over his face. He shut his eyes as your juices coated his lips, tongue, and chin. His tongue kept moving until you were begging him to stop.
“Was that to your liking?” He asked gently, lowering you to the ground. “Satisfied? Or do you n-nngh!” His words were caught in his throat, eyes darting down to where you had his cock in a vice grip.
“Shut the fuck up and come fuck your girlfriend into the mattress.” Suguru didn't need you to tell him twice, especially when you called yourself his girlfriend.
Toji Fushiguro:
“This is me.” You nervously laughed as your creepy Tinder date eyed the building you didn't live in. “Thanks for the date, it was fun.” Yeah, it was a lot of fun getting felt up and paying for the dinner he told you he would buy, but he just so happened to forget his wallet.
“You don't want to invite me up?” the creepy guy asked as you hit the buzzer three times. “I thought you might want some dessert. I have a great cream filling for you to try.”
“No, I'm good.”
“Don't be a bitch; come on, let me in.”
“I said I’m good!”
“Stupid fuc—”
The door to the apartment complex swung open, and a firm hand grabbed you, pulling you inside. “She said no, go fuck yourself.” without another word, the door slammed shut. “Fuck, you sure know how to pick them.” you pressed your face into your FWB’s chest, his hand rubbing your back soothingly.
“Holy fuck, that was super scary thanks Toji.” Your hands gripped his shirt, holding yourself upright as he sighed.
“Why do you put yourself through this?” Toji asked, leading you to the elevator. “Honestly, you should know better than to go out with creeps like that one.”
You rolled your eyes, stepping onto the elevator with him. “I just want to find my person.” Those words had Toji glaring down at you. “Not all of us can be satisfied with random hookups with friends.” The elevator opened on the third floor, and you stepped out.
“Random hookups?” His tone was dry. “You think that's what this is between us?”
“You're really to look at me and tell me they aren't?” He grabbed your attention arm, glaring down at you. “This is just to blow off steam, right?”
You and Toji had slept together on multiple occasions. After a long week of work, a bad day when you were feeling down. He was always the one you went to when you needed to vent, have a good laugh, or have sex. Toji was your friend, and you loved him, but he didn't love you the same way. He was a single dad, taking care of his son Megumi. He didn't have time to date and all that other stuff. Once in a while, a good fuck with you was enough to fulfill his needs.
So when your best friend dragged you into his apartment and slammed the door behind him, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. His eyes were dark and narrow with frustration and anger. A look you rarely saw directed towards you. You felt so small under his gaze it had you stepping back., the back of your knees hitting the couch.
“Do you honestly think I would hook up with you to blow off steam? You’re the same woman I have over for dinner, the woman I sleep with, the only other person I trust with Megumi!” His anger was palpable as you crawled onto the couch, your eyes never leaving his as he followed you. “I didn't put a label on this,” his hand motioned between you, “you did!”
“So what are you saying?!”
“I'm saying you're the only one going on stupid dates! I'm not! If you want more, say it! You're a grown-ass adult. You can do what you want, Y/N! And so can I!” He crawled on top of you. “So, for once in your life, can you please be honest?!”
You felt your nose and eyes burning with tears. Was he saying what you thought he was? That he wanted to be more, but you were holding back? Had you been the one keeping the FWB label on your relationship?
The longer you stare into his dark eyes, the more your face softens. Toji was always the one you ran to after a stupid Tinder date. He was the only person you slept with, the only man you wanted to be with, and Megumi, god, you lived that kid like he was your son. You couldn't find your person through random people because you already found him.
Your person was Toji.
Your hands gently reached up, cupping his face. “You want me?” Your voice was shaky and hesitant, scared to hear his answer.
“Of fuckin’ course I want you, Y/N.” he turned towards your hand, kissing your palm. “You idiot, it took you that long to see it?”
“You could have said something.” Your teasing tone was cut off by his hands working on your leggings. “Toji, wait, what are you doing? Megumi’s in the other room.”
Toji didn't respond to you; he just tugged his sweats down, tucking the band of them under his balls. “I’m not good with words. So I’ll show you how much I want you.” He rubbed his cock up and down over your folds before slowly pressing into you.
Soft moans and whines escaped you both as Toji slowly began to fuck you inside the couch. His hand grabbed at your hips, breasts, and thighs. Touching you everywhere he could as his cock pressed in and out of you, fucking you deeper and harder with each thrust of his hips. Toji pressed hot kisses against your lips. Each kiss, touch, and thrust told you everything you needed to know.
“I love you.” You cried out without thinking as he pressed into your g-spot. The sudden outburst had Toji freezing above you, hips pausing mid-thrust. Sweat slowly dripped down his temple as his mind replayed your words.
“What was that?”
“I said I love you.”
Toji’s eyes widened in surprise as he felt something unlock inside him. Whether it was his heart or sick throbbed inside of you, he couldn't tell. “Fuck,” he whispered, eyes drifting down your body. “Fuck.” Toji pulled all the way out before slamming hard into you. “Fuck!!” He growled, slamming into you harder and deeper with each thrust. “Love you too, fuck, I love you.”
Your eyes rolled back as you felt yourself drawing closer and closer to your orgasm. Toji reached over you, grabbing the arm of the couch for support as he drilled into you. Holy fuck, this was intense, so fucking intense. Your moans grew louder before he clamped his other hand over your mouth.
“As much as I love you screaming my name, I would rather not have my kid catching us. So be a good girl and cum.” His raspy command and slamming into your g-spot was all you needed. You screamed into his hand, trembling under him as he gritted his teeth. “Cummin’ take it all, Y/N~!”
As the waves of pleasure died, Toji removed his hand, smiling at you. You returned his grin, kissing him softly. “Fuck, that was so good.” Toji chuckled, shifting so you both were lying on the couch.
“Y/N, everything is good when it comes to you.”
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frmisnow · 2 months
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✧˖ ?!— THE ASSHOLE THAT MIGHT MAKE YOU FORGIVE & FORGET. - (NSFW.)
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— ‧₊˚ — 🍸: "wanna make you hate being touched by anybody else but me, i'll be so selfish with you ??"
summary. despite your best efforts at avoiding your much-hated hookup boxer, he somehow finds a way to your apartment claiming he's here for your own good benefit, being a total ass- does he even have the ability to change? well, he's determinded to make you forgive & forget... in his own unique ways!
notes. haven't written full blown smut in quite a while aaahhhh also my longest fic up to date??? - this is part two of TWO WHORES IN A ROOM, THEY MIGHT KISS but can be read on it's own.
warnings/includes. (MDNI!!) non idol! jungkook x f! reader, they still kinda hate eachother sry (tiny bit of character development in the middle tho), elements of angst, making out, he's a bit of a dick :/, reader is kind of a therapist (pls don't go around in real life trying to fix ppl!!), tit/nipple play, riding, kook sub tendency towards the end, unprotected sex (she's on the pill tho), not proofread :/
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you starred blankly at the text bubble he sent you a minute ago, hell- it was 2 am- you blinked repeatedly, reading it once more:
unknown number (jeon ) : i'm outside your apartment
you've done your absolute best avoiding him at all costs, you couldn't no- you shouldn't at all, never ever form a connection with him and though you'd usually be okay with having a little fling, you didn't want to be associated with him nor did you want to see his face. it was a hate fuck, nothing more, nothing less - but he always knew just how to ruin your plans.
you looked outside the window, actually sighting a figure, a motorcycle close to them as the person lifted it's head shortly from their phone, you quickly typed in a response.
y/n ( reader ) : how do you know my number, how do you know my adress and what makes you think i'll open the door unknown number (jeon ) : i'm cold
the simplicity of the incoming answer, made you roll your eyes, opening the window instantly after reading yelling out to the person: "i'll call the police for stalking"
he instantly yells back, "you don't actually have any intentions of calling the police. you want to see me" with every word stepping a bit closer to your apartment, now practically being next to your door.
"ha," you let out till full blown starting to laugh, "i wanna see you?" the smile from the laugh still plastered of your face, "you really think so?"
"oh i'm sure of it, what else is there to do on a saturday night? i just know you've been thinking bout my big dick all day, i know it makes you sick- but y'know what? i'm here to fix it for you" he looks up to you while delivering his dialogue in a sarcastic tone like he's the savior of the world, his smirk coming back once more.
you skipped down the stairs, opening the door just a few centimeters, enough to see your face, not enough to completly look into your apartment, answering him back now face to face, giving him a rather unimpressed look: "right, you showed up but somehow u're still blabbering 'bout me wanting you here, but whatever go on- tell me i'm the needy cockslut who wants you right now"
his hands reach out to presumably touch your tits as you make the split of the open door a little smaller so his hands won't fit through while he makes a tiny sound of disapproval in the mean time almost like a 'tsk tsk' until he starts talking again:
"you're standing here in your pjs at 2am opening up your door for no other then me and that says just enough"
you stand there silent for just a few seconds till bouncing back on his answer, "don't get it twisted, i wanted to see what you have to say for yourself-"
his smug little smirk on his face grows bigger as you speak, his words dripping with sarcasm as if you're playing right into his hands "oh so you are interested in what i have to say?"
"very much so but so far you've been talking a lot of shit which doesn't necessarly surprise me either"
jungkooks grin still remains maybe even gets bigger, his voice dripping of sarcasm, "oh c'mon you love anything that has a dick for you to suck on, you're not big on words"
you open the door a bit more further, sighing like you're tired: "well quite frankly i don't feel like having your dick in my mouth"
he runs his hands through his hair, few seconds of silence passing when he finally responds now a little more serious: "are you really gonna act like you didn't enjoy the last time we're together?"
you gulp, for the first time avoiding eye contact: "well not everything revolves around sex"
"ah well isn't that cute, trying to play innocent?" his smile suddenly disappears, his brow furrowing as he gives you a serious look, "look at me. right on the eyes"
you look him in the eyes again, voice getting just a bit louder: "you don't get it, you see any pussy and jump straight onto it then leave which would be fine- but i don't want us to be fuck buddies, i don't want us being awkward at work, i don't want to form an attraction beyond sex to you in any way and i won't even risk it- and you? you don't even think about anything, you just think with your dick"
his eyebrow raises as he lets out a chuckle and rolls his eyes, "yeah, yeah i guess i am quite a shitty guy for not wanting anything more than just to dick you down for all eternity"
you rest your head on the wall next to the door in frustration, making a sound close to a sigh again: "you'll leave me in a week, i'll get attached, you'll make fun of me- i don't want that" surprisingly honest and serious.
he stares at you for few seconds longer, you're not making eye contact anymore, still pressed on the wall your head facing downwards. he sighs and his eyes close as he takes a deep breath as if preparing himself for what he's about to say: "you really think that little of me huh?"
you respond calmly though still avoiding his eyes, admitting in all honesty: "you've given me no reason to think more of you"
and for the first time since you've ever seen him, you see jungkook generally hurt, his eyes not settling as he begins to slowly nod like he understood, taking a step back from the door, "i'll leave you alone"
you watch him take a few steps- but you just can't do this. he was right, for the first time in everything he has said so far- he was right: you wanted him. you didn't know if you wanted him beyond sex but you weren't gonna figure this out right now either so you made the spontanous gut decision, you swiftly walked behind him- grabbing his arm, stopping him.
"you can call me a dumb whore- but i've changed my decision, i don't want you to leave"
you can almost see his brain working your words out one by one till he returns to good old self, voice thick of sarcasm, a sly grin making it's way onto his face once more "oh and why's that?"
"can you shut up?"
it's a messy kiss. desperate, longing, needing - telling. his hands not settling, moving all across your body, squeezing and kneading wherever they can in a matter of time you both stumble back into your apartment, lips not breaking apart not even once even as he closes the front door with his foot, deepening the kiss mean while.
you get pushed back onto the couch, your lips still locked together as his hands move under your clothes, taking off each item of your clothing at lightning speed, like he's trying to tear them all apart.
you break away in the mean time to breathe as you basically pant, taking the short time to look down onto yourself, practically naked then look at him who still had way to many clothes on for your liking, "not fair" your words barerly good said as he basically swallowed them by kissing you once more.
he shifts his position again, wrapping his arms around your bare waist, pulling you onto his lap, groaning into the kiss, trying his best to combine keeping you in place with one hand and cupping your face rather violently with the other.
"please," you pull his pants just a bit to get your point across, "not fair" repeating what you already said like a broken toy in addition you pouted which y'know gets u sympathy points usually, you wanted to feel him- it was only fair.
"oh look who's upset?" a grin splarred over his face, tone mocking maybe even belittling, "you'll have to earn it" running his fingers through one of your hair strands till his gaze returns to your eyes.
"i thought we were over this," you whined till throwing your head back in frustration, "please, i was so nice"
"nice? you called me a shitty guy, thought little of me and basically called me a womanizer among other things." he puts both of his hands on your knees and spreads your legs apart more so you sit wider on him, "and you really think that 'pretty pretty please' is gonna be enough?"
no matter how good he was of a fucker, you weren't just gonna throw away your morals for him completly so you bluntly responded: "the fact that i'm even on your lap right now after some of the shit you said is pretty damn nice of me"
"fair point" he admits and his hands wander up your body once more, tracing each and every curve of your body, holding you down tightly to stop you from moving "you're not a nice girl. you know what you are?"
you responded instantly before he could say anything, putting a finger on his mouth to pervent more bullshit coming from that pretty mouth of his: "don't call me a whore, i won't tolerate slut shaming anymore when you're just as much of one as me, if not more"
he squeezed your thighs during your little speach, acting like a brat who doesn't give two shits about whatever you're saying, "you know i love it when you try to play this 'respect me' act, acting like you really are not some little whore that just wants to get pounded into a matress till she can't take it anymore"
you rolled your eyes immediately, taking in a deep breath: "everytime i have the feeling like i'm getting somewhere with you, i'm talking you developing your brain from teenage boy age 13 to 14, you piss me of even more- god i fucking hate you"
he leans forward, his body even closer to yours, a cruel smile crossing his face, "oh i love the way you get angry" his hot breath hitting your face and his eyes locked into yours, "it makes you look so helpless"
you get closer to his face, now inches apart to make sure the next few sentences really get to him: "i just want you to know that whatever you'll think after this whole thing, i want you to know that you didn't magically pull me in, i'm not helpless neither are you the only person with good dick in this shitplace, you're an avaible option that can be replaced at any given moment, you are a whore that goes around and gets used, no matter how much you hate that fact or not, it's the damn truth, so start being a fucking man and accept it, suck it up" you say something he'd say to you, a taste of his own medicine if you will.
you see it on his face that you've managed to finally get to him, like he's actually taken aback by something for once. your words seemed to cut him deeply and he just stares at you, his breath shaky and his eyes big, wide doed like you've never seen before.
"okay," you take his hands away from your thighs locking them with yours, face still close to his, holding eye contact, "it's okay, it's okay to have sex, it's okay to want to live a free live but you have to communicate that and stop being a prick, stop using girls, stop blowing your ego up and then maybe we could have something" you whisper it as calmly as she can, squeezing his hands every once in a while like you actually want to help him.
he looked onto the both hands locked together till squeezing your hand back, his voice trembling as he tries to remain calm when speaking, "why are you still being so nice to me?"
"you know you do this thing where i look at you and you say something so good, so rational and it happens every once in a while where i think to myself- this is why i can't leave our whole thing alone cause somewhere just somewhere there still is that one valueable dude, it's just-" you sigh, till burrying your head on his shoulder in frustration, "i'm so stupid, i feel like i'll always come back to you, i don't know if that's good"
he almost automatically wraps his arms around your figure and now is the time where you actually do feel helpless in his arms, god- you were so stupid.
he buries his face in your hair, breathing you in, he didn't want to feel this vulnerable around you- it almost hurt to let his emotions show "oh c'mon- don't say that, please" his voice is shaky and his words carry a clear feeling of hurt.
"i always used to say that i don't believe that people can change, it's funny how you try to make excuses and loopholes for your morals when you actually experience something on your own," you straighten up your posture, removing your head from his shoulder, avoiding his eyes while trying to gather your thoughts.
his voice still carries the same shaky emotion as he speaks "why are you avoiding eye contact?" he burries his head against your chest, rubbing against it like trying to make you look at him, softly beginning to lick the skin.
the more he nibbles and licks on your skin, the more little mumbles against the skin are hearable, "i'll make you forgive me" or "i'll make you forget" - it's like a trance.
his tongue getting to your tits, "look at me, please" he pleads like not having your attention on him even for just a few seconds is a crime sentence - at the same time wrapping his lips around one of your hardened nipples, sucking with just as much passion.
he leaves thick traces of saliva on both ones, an occasional muffeled moan slipping out, "could do this forever, i could die happy with one of- mmh" giving both of them his full diverted attention like he had to make sure the other one doesn't feel left out.
when his head comes up from your chest, his eyes are half-lidded, hair is all over the place, a little bit of saliva in the corner of his mouth yet he instantly cups your face kissing you again and again.
everytime he breaks away just shortly to breathe he whispers something into the air then immediately kisses you, swallowing the words like they were dangerous to fly around unanswered.
"wanna do this forever, have you on my tongue over and over again till my tongue goes numb, till i can't taste or feel anymore"
"wanna have you in every position you can think of, wanna fuck you so much your body only remembers me, my shape, my dick- everything, only me"
"wanna make you hate being touched by anybody else but me, i'll be so selfish with you"
dangerous words.
dangerous words that feel a bit to real.
it's so evident he has long lost any control over himself, those eyes still so doed like he's begging you to give in, fully drop your boundaries, to give into his fantasies. eyes locking with yours to speak up just once more like he's admitting something, voice more quiet:
"fuck it, i'm already way to selfish with you"
your hands find the zipper of his pants right before opening, pausing to say something yourself, "i'm selfish too, i choose what i want in the moment instead of what would be better for me in the longterm" you pressed your lips onto his almost to shut down your own thoughts, the important ones, the conscious ones that were barerly left till breaking off again, "i don't care, not right now"
you can already feel his hard cock rub against your panties through the jeans material, "i'm so hard it hurts" he looked at you so pleadingly like you were the doctor with the medicine to safe his life, like this was a do or die situation, a tiny cheeky pout on his face, "can you fix me?"
you didn't know if he was talking about himself as a whole or his cock but regardless you took his hands in order for him to stand up so it would be easier to remove his pants and boxers doing it all in one swift motion.
making him sit down onto the coach once again, he whined at the feeling of cold air on his bare skin and you not immediately sitting down onto him, you strip down your pretty ruined panties, his eye not knowing where to look as he played with his lip ring, tilting his head like he's tryna get a better view.
his hands reach out practically on their own, yearning to get his hands onto anything yours, "sit down, ride me" jungkooks tone shaky yet he tried his best to hide that (not rly working) as he added a tiny quiet "please" at the end of it, barerly audible to the average ear.
you couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that he was behaving like a child (nothing unusual) but the laugh got cut of by a moan as your pussy practically swallowed his length, his hands instantly quite harshly going to your hips, leading you- maybe even guiding.
"fuck yea-" his voice so awfully strained as his both of your hips moved in sync, his fingernails digging into your soft skin, making you groan.
"missed this pussy so much," he moaned out, throwing his head back onto the coach headboard till he weakly added: "so obssesed with you, i've been wanting this tight- mmh, fuck- ever since-"
he couldn't finish his sentence neither did he look like he could form any coherient thoughts, face scrunched up in pleasure, a bit of sweat on his forehead- and you probably didn't look any better yourself.
your walls clenched around him out of sheer response, you were so wrong- this was such bad decision, it would be so hard to let him go after this, it would-
"gonna cum, fuck- i can't"
his pressed out words cut through your thoughts like a sharp knife, the skin slapping noises suddenly feeling louder then they had been before, your own pussy clenching around him once again.
"can't hold it back, i don-"
he was going to leave marks on your hips for sure, you bet he didn't even realize how hard he had been squeezing the poor skin, occasionally moving to your ass.
you moaned yourself, feeling your own orgasm approaching, jungkooks eyes closed, lips parting slightly like he's on the top stage of ecstasy somewhere over the rainbow as you could feel your own walls getting coated with cum.
your body instantly went weak after, lightly collpasing onto his chest as though he seemed unusually tired he wrapped his arms around your back, stroking the skin and bone structure slowly.
it felt so comforting even your eyes closed, you felt so tired- what time was it again?
"fuck- i forgot the condom" his fingers paused, the shook in his voice audible.
"i'm on the pill, we're good" you closed your eyes again, now the clear goal was to fall asleep.
yet y'know how it was with your plans and jungkook- he cut through them as he lied still for a few minutes till whispering, "i don't hate you by the way" his fingers now again continuing the gentle act on your back even slower then before like a quit lullaby, "not even one bit"
"i know"
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kisses4reid · 1 month
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convenient pt.3 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
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pt. 1 | pt.2 (you cannot read this without prior reading)
summary - spencer likes the girl from the convenience store
warnings - awkward conversations and long silences, both of them being hopeless romantics, allergies/sickness
genre - fluff!!! college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer
a/n - thank you for the love and support on this series. it goes without saying i appreciate all of you all 🫶 thank u @raevyng for the cameo. sorry this is short, it’s either i upload this part or i make y’all wait for another week - i like you guys too much to do that.
“good job on you’re stem cell report, y/n. it was very informed and unique. i liked the, now who was it… william blake quote you included!” the teacher spoke before a class of 60. it was back to teaching new information before the next assessment, you were just about finished typing the professor’s notes before she spoke up. the mention of your name nearly made you jump.
a few of the students looked back up at you, some looking around because they had no clue who you were. you liked it better that way.
you also had no idea who william blake was.
“oh- um. thanks.” you say barely above a whisper. professor raena simply smiled and pushed back her shoulder length bob from her face. she started talking again, so did your friend.
“thanks? the professor who’s known to call out people for their incompetence more than smile in the classroom just praised you. that’s all you had to say?”
maybe logan wasn’t your friend per say. maybe she was just someone who sat next to you the first class and also happened to be your neighbour. she was stubborn and straight-forward, insanely intelligent and also smelt great. but she was caring, and gave you tough love when you needed it.
you glanced at her and smiled awkwardly, “i didn’t have much time to think about an answer.”
“i spend most of my time thinking about what i’d say to professor raena if she ever complimented me.”
“that’s because your-“ you suddenly muffle a cough into your hand, “obsessed with her.” you bring out a small packet of tissues from your bag and wipe your nose, nose reddening. logan leans slightly away from you and you roll your eyes.
“you’re not going to catch anything, it’s just allergies.” you lean back and try to continue typing notes but logan continues,
“you should go home, have some medicine, get some sleep.”
“i can’t, i’ve got work.” you whispered, a man in front of you turning around to shoot you with a side eye.
“you’ve told me multiple times that your manager wouldn’t care if you stole from the store. i’ve also told you many times i also don’t care.”
“yeah well… i like working there, that’s all.”
she rolls her eyes again, and waves you off, her long brown hair blocking her disappointed expression from you.
you stayed loyal to your job for two nights, for nothing. sure you got paid, and sure you got to steal some strawberry milk to ease your throat for a couple of minutes, but it felt boring. you actually started to file through the month old magazines you sold for double the price of a new one. you almost made it a third day without dying of allergies (and another secret feeling of sickness you constantly ignored), before you decided you were over it.
you stood up, flipped the door sign so the word ‘open’ faced you, and turned off half of the fluorescent lights before someone was suddenly in the corner of your eyes. spencer was opening the door so quickly you thought you were being robbed, you wouldn’t have seen him if not for the bell ringing on his entry.
“y/n.” he panted, watching your fingers hover over the last light switch. there was two lights left flickering softly above the front door and the check out desk. he looked stoic in the light, dressed in a grey sweater a little too big for him (like his mother had bought it for him telling him he’d grow into it) and black slacks. he seemed to have gotten a trim, his hair just under his ears now. “you don’t close until 1.”
he was confused, eyes wandering with a light hint of relief. like he was happy he didn’t miss you.
“yeah.” is all you said before you turned away from the light switch and returned to the register, assuming he would get his usual. but he didn’t keep walking, he just turned his body to face you. his eyes were expectant, delirious in a way like he needed something from you.
it was silent before the tension literally forced you to speak, “um. i need to close the store before i pass out. so i can uh… get home alive.” you look down and realise the pile of tissues before you was making a mountain, quickly grabbing them and stuffing them in an over filled bin.
“um.” a cat caught his tongue, he looked down to his feet.
spencer was sitting in his desk chair, scrolling on his government provided computer through forums and websites on ‘how to ask out a girl.’ not realising a majority of his team was reading them as well. he heard a small, familiar giggle behind him, quickly closing the tab and turning his head to be met with many other faces. jj slapped garcia on the shoulder with a smile, who’s hand was over her mouth, morgan and emily also smiling. spencer sighed and was about to cover for himself before morgan stepped in,
“look, pretty boy. no websites or article is ever going to teach you how to ask out a girl. they know nothing.”
emily joined, “yeah, none of those things are going to work. i mean, one of those said ‘don’t take no for an answer’. that’s straight up harassment.” she chuckled. morgan walked forward and placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder.
“all you have to do is talk. learn to what she likes, and be confident.”
“that’s easy for you to say.” spencer mumbled.
“who is this girl anyways? who’s taking our genius away from us?” garcia asked, today her hair was adorned with green themed pieces and a small pink flower clip.
spencer couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth perk up when he thought about the girl who worked at the convenience store. the girl who’s report honestly impressed him. the girl who knew his total without looking at the register. the girl who called him good looking without noticing, like it slipped off of her tongue with no second thought. “just someone.”
you were not just someone.
“yeah you should get home. you look terrible.” spencer’s eyes widened as you raised an eyebrow, “no i mean- not terrible- you never look or have ever looked terrible- i just meant today- no you- like you’re sick and obviously- i mean you don’t obviously look terrible- it’s just uh…” he nodded at himself after he noticed a smile creeping onto your face. “you know what i mean.”
“i know i look terrible, thank you.” he was slowly walking up to the register.
“you really should go home, i shouldn’t keep you here because of some coffee.”
you eyes stung and were puffed in redness, you nose dried yet running, eyebrow lines permanent from warding off a migraine. any other customer you would stay for, but you felt less guilty with him. not because you didn’t care, because you knew he did.
“yeah, thank you.” you grabbed your bag, put your empty water bottle into it and walked over to the lights, turning off the last ones, leaving you both in darkness. spencer was waiting for you, quite creepily as he was basically just a block of void. “you sure you don’t need your 3 minute lasagne?” you joked, and he smiled.
“no, this is fine.”
this? them? you thought this man was articulate.
you opened the door with a key-accessed button that automatically locked it after it closed, and walked into the warm streetlight with spencer.
“bye spencer.” you looked up to him only to find his eyes already on you. his face was plain of emotion, except maybe it was just the lighting that made you think he looked disappointed. not at you, at himself. he was silent, hands making their way into his pockets. it was a habit, you had learned. “what’s wrong spencer?” you asked softly, sniffling immediately after.
it was cold, the wind let a stray piece of hair cross your stuffy features.
“do you like old bookstores, y/n?”
you blinked, taken aback. “yeah. i like old bookstores.” you huddled into your sweater, a darker grey compared to his with a large font displaying your university.
“okay, goodbye y/n. see you tomorrow.” he hurried off into his car and you followed him with you eyes in curiosity.
you were already walking away before he could turn around and ask you something, he felt like he had missed his chance. but there would be more. spencer closed his eyes in frustration and took a breath, starting his car before texting the team’s group chat.
“Attempt One failed. 😐👎”
there was a string of messages after but he didn’t read them. all he could think about was the percentage of people who die alone, and then the percentage of people who are like you.
the next night he appeared at the normal time, around nearly 11pm. but he wasn’t the only one, logan was there with you, studying behind you on the floor.
she was bored, and needed to get out of her room, and the only person she knew well enough was you. there in her mens pyjama pants and an over-sized shirt that read ‘RIP Princess Diana’ with a photo of owen wilson on it, her computer warmed her lap and made a soft whirling sound the in the background.
“hi y/n.” spencer waved, he felt bad about last night. you were barely walking straight when you left and he could tell you wouldn’t get out of your ‘work clothes’ (whatever you wanted to wear with a vest over it) before falling onto your mattress, and he drove away. he didn’t even offer to take and walk you home, let alone give you a ride. but his hands were sweating and his heart thumping in his ears, and he couldn’t think straight.
“oh, hi spencer.” you turned from your own textbook splayed on the counter beside you to see spencer and his tall self. a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him.
he wasn’t meeting you eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows for a second before telling him his total with a sniffle.
“i’m sorry for not driving you home,” he lifted his head, a piece of chocolate brown hair crossing his left eye, “or walking you home. or making sure you made it home safe.”
you widened your eyes slightly and sat still before spencer cleared his throat and continued, “i was nervous, about being around you. and my friends- my colleagues- told me i need to be more confident around you so.”
logan had stopped writing, glancing through her bangs up at you both. your mouth was slightly agape before you realised how stupid you looked and how awkward you were making it.
“oh- no it’s okay spencer, you don’t have to say sorry. i was- i’m fine. um,” you tilt your head with the corner of your lips quirking up with little resistance, “you talk about me to your friends?”
spencer nodded, put his hands in his pockets and thought for a second. he wished there was a better place to do this, a better person to take over for him.
all you have to do is talk.
spencer is great at talking.
“did you know that you could be scrolling for seven weeks before you can reach the end of ‘how to ask a girl out’ results on google? i was scrolling for a long time but then my friends told me to just talk and be confident, but i’m only good at one of those thing. so i was trying to ask you out last night but then i- well i failed basically, it isn’t my strong suit,” he took a breath, “so basically i’m saying sorry for not asking you out and not driving you home.”
it was silent, even a customer stopped humming.
“and also your allergy medication isn’t strong enough for your symptoms.” he glanced down to a white and blue box by your hand. you looked down, seeing logan in the corner of your eyes, hand covering her face.
“spencer-“
“dude just ask her out.”
spencer’s face dropped, and he looked over the counter to find another woman sat down, a cringed out expression on her face. his nervousness increased after he realised this wasn’t as private a conversation as he thought. wiping his hand on his vest, he continue with a gulp,
“no i can’t. not here, um. i’ll see you on monday. and i promise i’ll uh- be better? i’ll try again, so. okay see you on monday.” he quickly took his groceries and walked off quite speedily. you watched him walk away and then once he was out of sight, you simply stared at the box of allergy medication on the counter.
logan groaned in the background and said something about growing balls, but it was tv silence for you.
you didn’t know how to go out with someone, your last relationship was in your first year of high school with a guy who thought baby’s came out of a woman’s bum. not that spencer meant he wanted a relationship, no it could just be a friend ‘going out’. totally not romantic.
you slump and stuff your face in your hands. you didn’t care if you hadn’t dated for however long, he didn’t seem to be a man-whore at all. you just cared about how you were actually going to say yes to a man you’ve only talked to inside of an off-brand convenience store on the night shift.
you muffle a scream before the same silent customer placed a carton of milk on the counter.
“$2.50.” you grumble.
you carried logan’s computer bag as she took out a box of strawberry pocky on the sidewalk. the store was locked, the air was crisp, the light was flickering. you didn’t say much until logan couldn’t stand it anymore.
“you know when you’re this silent it’s actually pretty nice, i like peaceful walks home.” you nodded, and continued your racing thoughts with your line of vision stuck on the concrete as you both walked the block to your apartments. she sighed, “but it’s odd. you love talking. a guy likes you and you go mute?”
“his name is spencer, he does something dangerous for a living, he likes old books and drinks a lot of coffee. he gets home late at night, looks skinny but can lift a box of flour above his head with ease. he’s insanely smart and reads poetry, and helped me with my stem cell report.”
you look over at logan who looks a little disgusted but mainly confused.
“he helped me lift that box of flour without me asking. i have no idea who william blake is. i have no idea how he managed to put poetry in a biology report, and i have no idea how he can admit he’s going to ask me out and then not ask me out. his favourite colour is purple, his favourite fruit is grapes but he buys apples because they’re cheaper. and his name is… spencer.”
logan stopped in her tracks, making you copy. you flung out of whatever trance you were stuck in and raised an eyebrow at logan, “what?”
“what? oh no i don’t know, maybe you’ve just never told me about a man you happen to know a lot about, and yet don’t know anything about. you sound insane- not in the ‘loony-bin way’, in the romcom way. it’s disgusting.”
you both continued to walk, climbing the stairs to the foyer of your building before she took back her bag and gave you the pocky, mumbling, “you need these more than me.”
the elevator ride was mostly silent, and that continued before you both unlocked your apartment doors right beside each other.
“you need to ask him out, if he doesn’t do it first.” she entered her apartment before you could speak, let alone think.
suddenly your apartment felt lonely.
so did spencer’s.
he was cross legged on his plush couch on a call with penelope garcia, she was squealing every second minute trying to create a plan for spencer to ask someone out.
“spence, you’re making this very hard. how am i supposed to be your coach if i only have half a team?”
“you can find someone’s address with half a fingerprint, i think you’ll be fine.” he takes a bite of his 2 minute bolognese.
“that takes the fun out of it. i can only give you tips if i know her personality.”
spencer sighed, and thought for a second, he could practically hear penelope’s growing smile knowing she had won.
“her names y/n.” garcia squealed. “she’s smart and pretty. and her favourite colour’s purple and she studies biology. she knows my groceries off my heart and she’s allergic to pollen. she works late at night at the convenience store two blocks away from my apartment building, and she likes old book stores. she’ll be introverted around an extroverted person, but extroverted around an introverted person. she can read my expressions faster than anyone else, she tries out different hairstyles when nobody’s in the store, and she’s funny.” spencer smiles to himself, “she’s pretty.”
“you mentioned that, lover boy.”
pt.4
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theemporium · 2 months
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[4.1k] as it would turn out, you were serious about your offer. and luke was serious about accepting. it was just going to take a while for his body to remember that this was a glorified business deal between friends and nothing more. and he was definitely okay with that. (smut)
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Stupidly, Luke didn’t think you were actually serious. 
In his head, the whole thing felt like a fever dream, starting from the moment he spilled his drink all over you leading to the moment you blatantly asked him if he wanted you to take his virginity. It felt like one of those weird dreams that made you wake up confused and bleary and unsure what year it even was, one of those dreams that linger in the back of your head for a few days before you eventually forgot about it.
Luke would have bet money on the whole thing being a weird dream that was haunting him if it weren’t for the fact he woke up one morning, a few days  after the party, with a message from you on his screen. 
cherry🍒: on a scale from one to ten, how likely are you to spill your drink on me again?
cherry🍒: also my place or yours? 
He stared at the messages for an embarrassingly long time, like he was staring at the proof the whole thing wasn’t some messed up dream in his head. Luke had spent the better part of the summer wondering what would have happened if he had asked for your number that night like Jack always teased him about, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself with it being a reality. 
hockey boy: i cannot promise anything 
hockey boy: you are welcome to come to my place but jack will probably be here so…
hockey boy: he’s nosy 
hockey boy: and annoying 
Luke frowned at himself, finger hovering over the messages like he would have a chance to delete them before you saw them, all one after the other like he was twelve and didn’t care about double texting. Or quadruple texting. But before he could even try to hide his own embarrassment, you were typing again.
cherry🍒: my place it is then
cherry🍒: see you at seven ;)
He also didn’t care to admit how long he stared at that message before he dragged himself out of bed, trying to ignore the odd buzz itching under his skin. It wasn’t even nine in the morning and his head was already spinning.
Luke was thankful enough that it was still preseason, that there wasn’t a game he had to prepare for because he wasn’t even sure he could concentrate on anything but your messages. He had noted Jack giving him odd looks whilst they both got ready for training, giving him more space than usual as they moved around the flat (which was odd considering Jack was usually glued to his side and pissing him off whenever he got the chance). 
However, the overbearing older brother role didn’t completely disappear. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” 
“Yes, Jack.”
“You’re not sick or anything?”
“I’m literally fine.” 
“Because we can tell the trainers—”
“Oh my god, dude,” Luke groaned, sinking further into the passenger seat as he shot his brother a look. “I’m fine. Calm down. You sound like Quinn.” 
“Sorry for caring,” Jack retorted, his fingers tightening on the wheel before his shoulders sagged. “I’m your older brother and it’s your first year in the NHL. I just wanna make sure you’re doing alright, okay? The last thing I want is you having a shit rookie year.”
But the rest went unsaid. I don’t want you having a shit rookie year like I did.
Luke softened a little. “M’fine, promise. I’ll let you know when I need my big brother, okay?” 
Jack sighed, a small smile on his face. “Okay.”
“Now, can you please shut up so I can sleep until we reach the rink?” 
Jack snorted in response. 
Though the conversation seemed to settle the worries his older brother had, Luke knew the other boys on the team were giving him the same looks of concern. It wasn’t as though he was playing badly, it was just very clear to everyone on the team—players, coaches and trainers alike—that Luke was distracted. 
He had half the decency to be a little embarrassed when he overheard Jack reassure a few trainers that it was just rookie nerves. 
But he felt restless, like he couldn’t quite keep still or focus on one thing. He felt like there was a buzz resonating through his bones, making him painfully aware of his plans later tonight. It was like an anxiety settled at the pit of his stomach, constant and foreboding and eating away at him as the minutes slowly dragged on through the day. 
It was horrible and exhilirating in the weirdest possible way.
Luke had managed to make it through the rest of training, managed to avoid any stern talkings from the coach but unable to avoid the one from Nico in the locker room. It was sweet and awkward all at once, especially when the rest of the team were clearly listening in to make sure one of the new rookies were doing fine. The Devils were like a family and usually he would appreciate it. 
However, he wasn’t exactly going to dive into the fact he was unfocused because a pretty girl offered to take his virginity to his captain or the rest of the team. He didn’t even want to imagine how that would have played out. 
But it was sweet to know the team had his back, that they saw him as his own person rather than just Jack’s little brother who was tagging along.
Luke was relieved when you had mentioned him coming over to your place for your meeting later that day. Yet, what he failed to take into consideration was the fact his brother would still be a nosy shit on his whereabouts. 
“Where the fuck are you going?” 
Luke froze, keys gripped in his one hand and his phone in the other with your address already typed into Google Maps. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore his pounding heart as he turned to Jack with a (hopefully) nonchalant look on his face.
“Just going to hang out with some friends,” he replied vaguely with a shrug of his shoulders.
Jack paused, the spoonful of rice hovering just above his plate as he narrowed his eyes at Luke. “Is Nico hosting some rookie thing or something?”
“Uh no,” Luke cleared his throat.
Jack frowned. “Is there a team thing happening tonight that I forgot?” 
“No, uh,” Luke shuffled awkwardly, feeling like an interrogation spotlight was shining on him. “It’s nothing with the team.”
Jack raised his brows. “But you don’t have other friends outside the team.” 
Luke frowned. “Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t,” Jack retorted. “Unless you’re a part of a book club or something.” 
He shot his brother a confused look. “Why would that be the only reason I have friends outside of the team?”
“I don’t know, college and shit,” Jack answered like that explained something.
“You’re such a weirdo,” Luke grumbled before he turned on his heel, making his way towards the door again. 
“Are you at least gonna tell me when you’ll be back?” Jack called out to him, a hint of older brother overbearingness in his voice. 
“Not sure.” 
“I—” He heard Jack shuffle to stand up, his dinner now abandoned on the coffee table as he made his way over to Luke. The look of concern from earlier that morning was back on his face. “What dodgy shit are you up to that you can’t just tell me?” 
“Jack,” Luke groaned, his voice tilting towards whiny as he let out a huff of annoyance. “I’m just going out to see a friend. Nothing dodgy, I promise.”
Jack didn’t say anything at first, just letting a slow smile spread across his face.
He frowned. “What?” 
“Friend, singular,” Jack pointed out before he let out a bark of laughter, playfully punching his little brother’s arm. “Aw, little Lukey is sneaking out to hook up with a girl!”
His cheeks burned. “Shut up.”
“Fucking finally, I thought you were going celibate for your rookie year or something!” Jack continued to tease him. “Who is it? Do I know her? Oh my god, is it the girl from the party? Do you have a secret girlfriend?”
“I am leaving now!” Luke shoved him away, making a beeline for the door as Jack continued to cackle behind him. 
“Do I need to give you a curfew?” 
“Fuck off!” 
He could still hear Jack laughing when he slammed the door shut behind him.
His body felt like it was on autopilot once he got behind the wheel. He followed the instructions spoken through his GPS, kept his concentration on the road—on the journey—rather than the destination. He tried to pretend like he was just going to hang out at a friend’s, that he was back in Michigan going to one of his teammate’s houses he didn’t live with. 
It was fine. 
Everything was fine.
Except for the fact that once he reached your door, closed fist hovering over the wood, he felt like his body was buzzing too fast to keep up with and all the pent up anxiety over the day was about to make him explode. 
He didn’t even realise he had knocked until the door swung open and you stood on the other side, grinning at him like it was a normal Sunday evening. You were dressed cosy, casual even. Just a pair of leggings, a baggy shirt and some fluffy socks that had—ironically enough—cherries printed on them.
“You’re early,” you noted. 
Luke’s stomach dropped a little. “Oh shit, I’m sorry—”
“I like my men eager, you’re fine,” you said as you waved him off, unaware of the fact your words just made his body feel like it was on fire for a whole other reason as you grabbed his hand and dragged him inside. 
His eyes wandered over your apartment, taking in the small knick knacks that decorated the place. It was smaller than his and Jack’s apartment, but it felt more homely. His place had a habit of looking a little clinical, like a showroom they had moved into rather than an actual home. But between training and travelling and not really caring, neither he nor Jack had bothered to change it. 
But, looking around at the small details of your apartment as you led him towards your living room couch, Luke found it endearing that he could see small insights into your personality.
“You still like Coke, right?” 
His eyes snapped back to you, a light blush on his cheeks when he found you staring at him with intent. “Uh yeah, Coke is good.” 
He settled down on the seat, awkwardly perched on the edge whilst you curled up in the sport next to him with your feet tucked underneath him. He tried to swallow the ball in the back of his throat, eyes wandering over the room once again before they landed back on you. 
“Your place is really nice—”
“Tell me about hockey.” 
Luke blinked. And then blinked one more time before he remembered to speak.
“What?”
“Tell me about hockey,” you repeated. 
“You want to know about hockey?” He questioned, his brows furrowed together and suddenly the panic he felt moments ago was overwhelmed by his confusion. 
“Well, no, I don’t really know anything about it,” you admitted with a shrug. “But you’re so tense over there like you’re about to enter the Hunger Games or something, I thought talking about something you enjoy would help you relax.” 
Something in his chest stirred at your confession. “Oh.” 
“Just relax,” you said as you lightly pushed him back until he was no longer sat on the edge of the couch. However, Luke’s body didn’t seem to catch the hint, something that was very clear with how tense he still looked sitting next to you. “We aren’t going to do anything tonight,” you assured him, your hand dropping to his forearm to give it a small squeeze. 
He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed. “We aren’t?”
You shook your head, a soft but cheeky smile on your lips. “You need to build up your confidence a little, to really feel comfortable with everything. There’s more to sex than just sleeping with someone.”
He blinked. “There is?”
“Yes,” you laughed, but it wasn’t directed at him. He didn’t feel dumb for asking you questions. “So just take a breath and relax. Now, hockey—what’s the big deal?” 
Luke couldn’t help but snort. “The big deal?”
“Yeah, why do you like it?” You asked. “I mean, you love it enough to make it your job.” 
Luke smiled and there was something less heavy in his laugh—but hockey always tended to have that power over him. He knew hockey. He lived for hockey. It was as calming as it was exhilarating. It was what his whole world revolved around since the day he was born. 
“I come from a big hockey family,” Luke told you. “I could skate before I could properly walk, to be honest. It’s just something that’s always…been there. I couldn’t imagine my life without it.” 
“Do you enjoy it?” 
Luke raised his brows in surprise. “No, I just do it to torture myself.”
“Okay, smart-ass,” you rolled your eyes at the boy, and he tried not to think about how endearing the action was. “I mean, you said it’s been in your life forever. Do you enjoy it or is it just familiar?”
There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation before he answered.
“I love it,” he replied honestly, sinking a little further into the couch as he turned his head to look at you. “It was always there but I also always sought it out, you know? I wanted hockey as much as hockey wanted me.” 
“Lucky thing you were good enough to go pro, huh?” You remarked, a teasing glint in your words. 
Luke’s lips twitched upwards. “Yeah, lucky me.”
“So, do you, like, fight people and shit?” 
He snorted, the noise a little surprising but welcomed nonetheless. “Yeah, sometimes.” 
“Damn, the two hockey videos I watched before you came weren’t lying then,” you mused. 
And, fuck, his chest was doing that funny-tightening thing again. 
“You watched some videos before I came?”
“Colour me curious,” you answered with a casual shrug of your shoulders.
He swallowed. “Did you like what you saw?” 
Your lips pulled upwards into a smirk. “Flirting with me now, Hughes?” 
In an instant, Luke’s cheeks instantly burned a red shade with a mix of embarrassment and self-consciousness washing over him. “I’m sorry about that—”
“I never said I didn’t like it,” you interrupted, watching as his eyes widened a little in surprise. But the colour remained on his cheeks. It was cute, if you were being honest with yourself.
“Oh?”
“You’re not a shy guy, Luke, I’ve seen the way you are on the ice. You just need to bring that confidence off the ice too,” you told him, shuffling a little closer to him until your knee was almost brushing his thigh. “Think of this…what we are doing…as your training.” 
“My training?” 
“Mhm,” you nodded as your palm landed on his thigh, right above his knee. He was so painfully aware of your hand, of the way your touch felt like it was burning through the fabric of his sweatpants to touch his skin. “Gonna help you go pro.” 
His eyes darted down to your hand before it snapped back to your face. “Cherry—” 
“Can I kiss you?” 
He blinked. “You’re asking me?” 
“It’s sexy to ask,” you told him, your thumb lightly rubbing a small line just above his knee. You shifted a bit closer, watching the way his eyelids fluttered slightly. “Consent is really, really sexy.” 
“Really sexy,” he repeated, eyes locked in on your lips. 
“Can I kiss you?” You asked again, squeezing his leg a little to emphasise your need for him to verbally answer. 
“Yeah,” he managed to mutter out, a slight crack in his voice but you didn’t seem to care as you closed the distance between you.
Your palm was soft and warm against his cheek, guiding his head until you pressed your lips against his. It was a soft kiss, almost sweet in a way. And maybe something about the tenderness of it all washed away the unease in his chest, that lingering anxiety that he had been smothered in since he woke up. It was like the kiss washed away the lingering concerns in his head, the ones that told him this was some twisted dream or malicious ploy.
You just wanted to help, you wanted him relaxed when he was with you. 
And Luke had half the mind to trust you would do just that after the initial kiss. 
Your thumb slightly swept along the high of his cheekbone, soft and reassuring as he sunk further into the kiss. He seemed happy to let you take control, to let you decide how fast or passionate it was. He seemed happy to just follow. 
“Better than hockey training?” You murmured against his lips between kisses, the light smacking noises a vague echo in his ear but he didn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.
“Mhm,” he hummed as he ducked his head back down, eager to press his lips against yours again. 
“Impatient,” you teased but didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. “Feeling confident already, Hughes?” 
Luke could feel your smile against his lips. “Maybe.” 
“Good,” you stated simply and before he got the chance to realise what you were doing, before his brain had even fully processed you had asked him a question, your leg was thrown over his body and you were straddling his lap.
Luke pulled back a little, looking up at you with his cheeks flushed. “Oh.” 
“Remember, this is just your training,” you reassured the boy, though it was hard for him to focus on the words coming out of your mouth when your lips were red and kiss-swollen and probably a mirror image of his own. “Just practise, yeah?”
“Just practise,” he confirmed with a nod. 
“So practise,” you told him as you reached for his hands where they awkwardly hung at his side. You gripped his wrists, giving them a small squeeze before you rested them on your waist.
He swallowed. “Oh.” 
You raised your brows. “This good?” 
“Mhm,” he nodded.
“Luke,” you prompted until his glossy eyes found yours. “We can stop any time you want. Just say the word, okay?” 
“I don’t wanna stop,” he reassured you, his hands giving a testing squeeze on your waist. “Not right now, at least. Promise.” 
And when you smiled at him, he could have sworn his heart was about to beat right out of his chest. 
His chest was thudding with each racing beat, blood roaring in his ears and butterflies exploding in his fucking chest when you leaned down to kiss him again. It’s like his brain was locked in on you at this very moment, not a care or concept for the world beyond this apartment. It was just about you, you, you.
And then your hands were pushing through his hair, fingers tangled in his curls as you tugged his head back until the column of his neck was exposed to you. 
Luke was almost embarrassed of the whimpering noise that left his lips when you tugged on his curls, a dull but desirable pain coursing through his whole body before your lips explored his neck. His breathing was heavy, borderline panting as your teeth scraped along the sensitive spot just below his ear. And, fuck, he felt like his whole body was on fire. 
“Hmmm, pretty noises,” you murmured against his neck, wet and sloppy open-mouthed kisses pressed against his skin as his body squirmed beneath you. “You gonna keep making them for me, baby?”
He nodded.
“Yeah?” You nipped his skin lightly, almost teasingly, as his hips bucked up on instinct. “Keep moaning f’me, baby, let’s see what you like.”
His grip on your waist only tightened as you continued to explore his body, as you tried to find the spots that had him whining and panting beneath you. And just when Luke thought he had a hold on himself, when he could handle the way your hands felt in his hair and your lips on his neck, your hips slowly rolled down against his and he could feel a rush of pleasure race down his spine.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he choked out between broken moans, head thrown back against the back of the couch and eyes clenched shut. “Please. More.”
“You want more?” Your warm breath fanned against his cheek as you lifted your head, hooded eyes watching the way his face scrunched up in pleasure as you continued to rock against him. “Keep making those pretty noises, baby.” 
The whimper he let out made his cheeks and neck burn bright red. 
“Look at you,” you mused, the bulge in his sweatpants pressed against you as you continued to grind down on his lap. “Doing so well for me, telling me what you want.”
And it was too much. 
The constant stream of praise leaving your lips, the way your face was inches away from him—even if his eyes were shut—with your breath hot against his cheek. The way your hips rocked against his hard cock, the way it was straining beneath the boxers he was wearing. The way your fingers gave another experimental tug on his curls and he saw white. 
His grip on your waist was almost bruising with how tight it was, the way he held onto you as his hips bucked to meet your thrusts, the way your name left his lips on a loop as a hot flush of pleasure washed over his body, as you guided him through it. 
And once his brain had caught up—once he was sure his heart wasn’t going to jump out of his chest—he was painfully aware of the sticky mess in his sweatpants. 
“Oh my god,” he muttered, his whole body burning with embarrassment as he looked up at you. “I am so sorry—” 
“For what?” 
“I—” His eyes fell shut, his body wanting nothing more than to curl in on himself. “I’m sorry, that was embarrassing.” 
You frowned. “What was? The fact you came?” 
His stomach twisted a little.
“Luke,” you murmured, and he could feel your hands cupping his warm cheeks but he didn’t have the courage to open his eyes just yet. “If I didn’t want you to come, I wouldn’t have been grinding on your dick like that.” 
He finally looked at you, but the hot shame remained. “You didn’t even…” 
“Get off?” You supplied and he looked sheepish as he nodded. “I can still enjoy something and find it hot without getting off, Hughes.”
His brows furrowed together. “I thought the whole point was that you were teaching me how to make you feel good. For womankind.” 
You snorted, grinning down at the boy. “That doesn’t mean you can’t get off too.”
Luke’s lips parted with a silent ‘oh’.
“I’ll grab you some sweatpants to change into,” you told him as you shifted off his lap, looking down at his flushed cheeks and dazed eyes. “You’re a good student, Hughes.”
He raised his brows. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you grinned back at him, and his chest did that funny thing again. “And I wasn’t lying. You make pretty noises. I like my boys vocal.” 
And Luke was thankful you disappeared down the corridor after that, saving him from even attempting to come up with a response. 
And he was shocked that once he cleaned up as best he could in your bathroom, you patted the spot next to you on the couch and told him to choose a movie whilst you ordered in some food. 
It was almost laughable to think about how anxious he had been all day, only to lead up to him sharing a pizza with you with some old Jim Carey comedy playing in the background like you two really were just friends. Like you were just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. Like you hadn’t just made him come in his pants like he was some wound up teenage boy. 
It made his head spin, in a good way. 
And when he was dragging his feet through the front door of his apartment a little after midnight, there was a voice in the back of his head that was telling him this was risky, that he shouldn’t have felt so giddy or jovial after he had seen you. 
You were just training him, helping him. You were just his friend. 
But, for right now, Luke was happy to ignore the logical voice in the back of his head and instead focus on the fact that maybe—just fucking maybe—you were right and this whole virginity thing was far more bigged up in his head than he realised. 
You were his friend. And he knew you were just his friend. 
Who cares if his body took a little longer to remember than his brain did?
.
1K notes · View notes
sssilverstoned · 4 months
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reminiscing ꩜ ln4
type: instagram/twitter au
Fans suffer days leading to love's holiday without their favorite couple.
lily said: hi! my first fic here, my first social media au ever, hope u enjoy :) will be a part 2 and 3..maybe more as well. whatever my heart desires and such
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call her daddy podcast, 2/6/23
alex cooper and special guest: y/n l/n
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y/n l/n: my friends keep trying to get me on dates, but i don't know, i'm just too much of a homebody right now. trying my best, but i'm rusty.
alex cooper: right, and i totally don't want to bring it up, if you don't want it out, but...
y/n l/n: no, it's totally fine. and yes, i'm single. it's one of those things i figured people will start to pick up on, it's kinda how life like this goes.
alex cooper: like a microscope on your relationship?
y/n l/n: exactly. made stuff super stressful, especially since we started dating when we were 19.
alex cooper: shit, 5 years is longer than i thought!
y/n l/n: we grew up together, had so many highlights and growing pains, and i don't want to get on your show and wallow or pout, that's really not what i feel. and i hope no one thinks anyone did anything wrong, it's just a growth thing. some people, as they grow, grow differently. and apart, i guess.
alex cooper: but you still have love for each other, i know that for sure.
y/n l/n: i'll never ever lose that love, i don't think.
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landonorris Quite a birthday today! Another year around the sun, another year of me kissing your face. Love you the most.
user1 yassss OUR girlfriend!
yourusername To the moon and back baby!!!!
yourusername Not pictured: his slobber on my cheek
landonorris You quite like my slobber, no? oscarpiastri I surely don't
user2: you two really are growing up together :')
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yourusername Sweet boy took me for a picnic, had too much wine hahaha. Thank you all for the birthday wishes, my heart is singing!!!! 23, woah am I close to getting old?
user1 SWEET BOY oh you people are sick
landonorris The most stunning girl, even napping
landonorris and yes you're old now user2 CORNYYYY (i'm ready to end it all) user3 "you're old now" and what are you??
emrata Wine's always a good idea
bellahadid happy birthday baby! come visit soon
user4 does that say lando on her necklace . i'm gonna snap soon
sza Loveeeee. U my favorite, Happy Solar Return!
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f1gossipcentral submission from a fan today in monaco:
i met lando today with a few others, he was so nice! we didn't want to ask flat out about y/n, he actually brought her up in passing when someone mentioned being from the same hometown as her, and he pointed it out himself. he didn't have the same energy we're used to when speaking about her, but it's obvious there was love in his voice, a lot of it. he's still got her friendship bracelet she made him last year on, but i think it's the type you'd have to cut to get off. regardless, i hope the best for him, and her too.
user1 you're telling me just the name of her hometown and he BLURTS about her?? AFTER being broken up??? yeah we're never seeing pearly gates atp
user2 is this what a broken home feels like?
user3 SHATTERED home. and yes. user4 y/n lando please. come home the kids miss you
user5: single y/n...don't hate me but i would love a baddie era
user6: oh this is not a safe space for you.
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wanderingandfound · 2 years
Text
The fact that even my teeth aren't right anymore, and will probably never be right again, fucking gets to me.
#I should explain more so that I have a record but. It hurts too much to write down. Or I'm too exhausted by it all.#personal#learning to function#He grounded my teeth down again and they kinda fit. I slept one (1) night in my first mouth guard and they fit much better.#But it's still Off. Askew. Wrong. Tilted.#It's been a year and a half. Longer? I don't know.#My dentists used to PRAISE my bite and I didn't know how much that meant to me as a chronically ill fat person until this became fucked up#too.#It's not enough that I'm fat. Sick. Tired. In pain. With more types of skin blemishes than I can keep track at once. And feet that need a#certain shoe otherwise my hip will go out and I'll be bedbound. Needing glasses so strong that I need high index lenses. And executive#dysfunction teaming up with perfectionism.#No. None of that is enough. Apparently my teeth need to be wrong BECAUSE I TRIED TO PROTECT THEM WITH A MEDICAL DEVICE THE DOCTOR MADE FOR#ME AND TOLD ME TO BE PATIENT AND WAIT A WHILE EVEN AFTER I EXPRESSED MY CONCERNS.#I'm constantly CONSTANTLY worried about making things worse. It's why I'm hesitant to start medications and don't even like to take OTC#painkillers. Heck at the recommendation of a different doctor I recently tried to improve one of my skin conditions and not only was it#quite painful but I think it also made things worse! It's 40% of why I don't moisterize even though I really need to#(50% is because I hate being oily and 10% is because showering is already so much work).#I followed my trusted doctor's directions and now my teeth will never be right again.#Look at all these words I've written without actually explaining what happened.
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lackadaisycats · 2 months
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Hey Tracy! Have you heard about the new Ai called Sora? Apparently it can now create 2D and 3D animations as well as hyper realistic videos. I’ve been getting into animation and trying to improve my art for years since I was 7, but now seeing that anyone can create animation/works in just a mare seconds by typing in a couple words, it’s such a huge slap in the face to people who actually put the time and effort into their works and it’s so discouraging! And it has me worried about what’s going to happen next for artists and many others, as-well. There’s already generated voices, generated works stolen from actual artists, generated music, and now this! It’s just so scary that it’s coming this far. 
Yeah, I've seen it. And yeah, it feels like the universe has taken on a 'fuck you in particular' attitude toward artists the past few years. A lot of damage has already been done, and there are plenty of reasons for concern, but bear in mind that we don't know how this will play out yet. Be astute, be justifiably angry, but don't let despair take over. --------
One would expect that the promo clips that have been dropping lately represent some of the best of the best-looking stuff they've been able to produce. And it's only good-looking on an extremely superficial level. It's still riddled with problems if you spend even a moment observing. And I rather suspect, prior to a whole lot of frustrated iteration, most prompts are still going to get you camera-sickness inducing, wibbly-wobbly nonsense with a side of body horror.
Will the tech ultimately get 'smarter' than that and address the array of typical AI giveaways? Maybe. Probably, even. Does that mean it'll be viable in quite the way it's being marketed, more or less as a human-replacer? Well…
A lot of this is hype, and hype is meant to drive up the perceived value of the tech. Executives will rush to be early adopters without a lot of due diligence or forethought because grabbing it first like a dazzled chimp and holding up like a prize ape-rock makes them look like bleeding-edge tech geniuses in their particular ecosystem. They do this because, in turn, that perceived value may make their company profile and valuations go up too, which makes shareholders short-term happy (the only kind of happy they know). The problem is how much actual functional value will it have? And how long does it last? Much of it is the same routine we were seeing with blockchain a few years ago: number go up. Number go up always! Unrealistic, unsustainable forever-growth must be guaranteed in this economic clime. If you can lay off all of your people and replace them with AI, number goes up big and never stops, right?
I have some doubts. ----------------------
The chips also haven't landed yet with regards to the legality of all of this. Will these adopters ultimately be able to copyright any of this output trained on datasets comprised of stolen work? Can computer-made art even be copyrighted at all? How much of a human touch will be required to make something copyright-able? I don't know yet. Neither do the hype team or the early adopters.
Does that mean the tech will be used but will have to be retrained on the adopter's proprietary data? Yeah, maybe. That'd be a somewhat better outcome, at least. It still means human artists make specific things for the machine to learn from. (Watch out for businesses that use 'ethical' as a buzzword to gloss over how many people they've let go from their jobs, though.)
Will it become industry standard practice to do things this way? Maybe. Will it still require an artist's sensbilities and oversignt to plan and curate and fix the results so that it doesn't come across like pure AI trash? Yeah, I think that's pretty likely.
If it becomes standard practice, will it become samey, and self-referential and ultimately an emblem of doing things the cookie-cutter way instead of enlisting real, human artists? Quite possibly.
If it becomes standard industry practice, will there still be an audience or a demand or a desire for art made by human artists? Yes, almost certainly. With every leap of technology, that has remained the case. ------------------ TL;DR Version:
I'm not saying with any certainty that this AI blitz is a passing fad. I think we're likely to experience a torrential amount of generative art, video, voice, music, programming, and text in the coming years, in fact, and it will probably irrevocably change the layout of the career terrain. But I wouldn't be surprised if it was being overhyped as a business strategy right now. And I don't think the immensity of its volume will ever overcome its inherent emptiness.
What I am certain of is that it will not eliminate the innate human impulse to create. Nor the desire to experience art made by a fellow soul. Keep doing your thing, Anon. It's precious. It's authentic. It will be all the more special because it will have come from you, a human.
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