#but it's hard for me to make a consistent schedule right now
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lunawings · 1 year ago
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Uugughgh.
So I bought a new monitor. NGL emulating Aikatsu had something to do with it but also I've been wanting one for a while and saw a $79 flash sale at Walmart. But I'm still using my laptop screen primarily out of habit.
My desktop background is rotating screenshots from a few things, but most of them are from King of Prism SSS episode 8 because I love the aesthetic of that episode specifically. But I usually never actually see my backgrounds since I've always got windows up.
So now I'm working on my blog or whatever and I keep looking up to see stuff like this......
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And it's starting to give me some............... EmOTIons...........
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spingu · 5 months ago
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inane ramblings on ttc and hockey players in the tags
#going through the whole ttc process is really making me realise how hard it must be for nhl players to family plan/get pregnant#because they are away SO consistently and there's no pattern to roadies and away trips and the schedule is so NOT family friendly#and the window each month is small right. and what if your husbands road trips/away games just fall at the wrong time month after month#which is very much my current mood as husband is meant to be abroad for a huge chunk of march and is currently away now#and my ovulation was supposed to be thursday - meaning we could have tried when he's due home on friday#but no! ovulating today. monday. pointless. he's hundreds of miles away today and will be until the end of the week#genuinely cried over my ovulation test this morning because ???? this is the last month he's even vaguely around at the right time until ma#trying to comfort myself with the idea that at least he isn't stuck on a 15 day roadie to western canada#spoke to a friend at the weekend who was like oh but you can try the other three weeks of the month! (when not on your period)#and i was like... yeah. but you do realise you can't get PREGNANT for all of those three weeks#like. there's a tiny window. it's hard to work out when it actually is and still the odds are maybe 20-25% every month when everything work#but yeah. trying to comfort myself that there are lots of other women who's husbands/partners work unsociable jobs and must also deal w thi#anyway. radioactive bad mood today#ttc tag
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bloomzone · 7 months ago
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2025 : #1 be disciplined
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[ the 2025 glow up serie ? Click here !]
Motivation feels amazing, doesn’t it? It’s like a spark—a burst of energy that pushes you forward. But what happens when the spark fades? That’s where discipline steps in. It’s the routine you build, the habits you cultivate, and the consistency you stick to even on days you don’t feel like it.
So, instead of waiting to feel ready, discipline says, ‘Let’s go, regardless.’ It’s the engine that turns dreams into reality.
"Ask urself right now: What’s one thing I can commit to daily in 2025? Write it down. Small steps lead to giant leaps."
1.Building Your Disciplined
How do u stay disciplined? Start with these three small steps:
✒️.Growth is not supposed to feel good. You’re going to hate it. You’ll feel like quitting more times than you can count. That’s normal. Growth is built in the moments where you want to give up but don’t.
1. Create Clear Goals: Be specific. Instead of saying, ‘I’ll study more,’ say, ‘I’ll study history for 30 minutes every evening.’ BUY A SMALL NOTEBOOK AND WRITE ALL UR GOALS WITH SMALLER ONE TO BE MORE PRODUCTIVE
2. Track Progress: Whether it’s journaling or using an app, tracking helps you stay accountable.
3.Master Your Mindset: Stop waiting to "feel motivated." Understand that motivation is fleeting, but discipline is reliable. Every time your brain tells you to quit, remind yourself: your emotions don’t run the show—your goals do.
2.Excuses Are Lies
Excuses are lies you’ve sold yourself to stay comfortable. 'I’m too tired.' Lie. 'I don’t have time.' Lie. 'I’m just not motivated.' Biggest lie of all.
Here’s the truth: You’re scared. Scared of failure, scared of discomfort, scared of how much effort it takes to change. But let me tell you something: Fear is temporary. Regret is forever. Which one do you want to live with?
No more excuses. You don’t need more time. You need more discipline. You don’t need motivation. You need action. Stop talking about what you want and start doing the work to get it. Right now.
3.look at yourself in the mirror
Look yourself in the mirror tonight and ask: Am I proud of the choices I made today? If the answer is no, fix it tomorrow. And if the answer is still no, fix it the next day. Don’t let yourself off the hook.
2025 isn’t your year unless you make it your year. Stop expecting change to happen to you. You are the change. Get out of your head, get off the couch, and get to work. The only thing standing between you and the life you want is your own laziness. Crush it.
4.Action Plan for a Disciplined Life
Stop acting like you’re doing enough when you know you’re not. If you want that dream college, that perfect GPA, or that career you keep fantasizing about, you need to stop wasting time and follow a real plan. Get up the second your alarm goes off—no snooze, no excuses. Tackle the hardest, most uncomfortable task first thing in the morning because procrastination is for quitters. Create a non-negotiable schedule and stick to it like your life depends on it, because it does. Eliminate every distraction: delete the apps, unfollow the nonsense, and stop treating your phone like your best friend. Hold yourself accountable—write down your progress every day. If you didn’t do anything to move forward, face the fact that you’re the problem. Plan your next day before you sleep, so you wake up ready to win, not wander. And for the love of everything you want in life, stop choosing comfort over progress. Your excuses won’t get you that GPA, that acceptance letter, or that dream job—but discipline will.
breaking this into chunks
1. Kill the Snooze Button: Get out of bed the moment your alarm goes off. No "just 5 more minutes." Those 5 minutes are the difference between starting strong and losing the day.
2. Start With the Hard Stuff: Tackle your most challenging task first thing in the day. Procrastination is your enemy—eat the frog and move on.
3. Create a Non-Negotiable Schedule: Block out specific times for studying, working out, or any critical task. Treat these blocks like appointments with your future self—don’t cancel.
4. Cut Out Time-Wasters: Delete apps you waste time on. Unfollow distractions. If you spend hours scrolling or binge-watching, you’re digging your own grave.
5. Build Accountability: Tell someone your goals and have them call you out when you slack. Better yet, make it public—you’ll hate embarrassing yourself in front of others.
6. Track Progress Daily: Write down everything you’ve done that day to move closer to your goals. If you haven’t done anything, face the hard truth: you’re slacking.
7. Plan Tomorrow Tonight: Before you go to bed, write out your next day’s schedule. If you wake up without a plan, you’ve already lost.
8. Say No to Comfort: Skip the cozy excuses. If it’s not pushing you closer to your goals, it’s holding you back.
Discipline is the foundation of every success story. It’s not about luck, talent, or fleeting motivation—it’s about showing up, doing the hard work, and making the right choices every single day. If you want to achieve your dreams, you need to stop waiting for the perfect moment and start building habits that get you closer to your goals. Cut the excuses, own your failures, and take control of your life. The road to greatness isn’t easy, but every sacrifice, every uncomfortable moment, and every disciplined action will take you one step closer to the future you deserve. You either make it happen, or you watch someone else do it. The choice is yours. The clock is not waiting for u !
@bloomzone ✒️
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glowettee · 4 months ago
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✧˖° the identity shift: start thinking like an A+ student
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💭 before you even touch your notes, before you highlight a single word, before you drown in exam stress. change how you think about yourself.
most people study with the mindset of “i hope i do well” instead of “i am the kind of person who excels.” and that’s the difference. if you want to start acing your exams, your first step isn’t flashcards or practice tests. it’s shifting your identity. because an A+ student doesn’t just work hard, they think, act, and exist differently.
this is the second post to the final exam survival series. the last post, was focused on how to actually enjoy learning and using that to motivate yourself for school. this post will focus on shifting your identify, which can also work great for manifesting and law of attraction/assumption. i will try to give you the best possible tips to help you shift your mindset to already have the A+ mentality. love you guys <3 - mindy
disclaimer: please don't think i expect you to be perfect, i use 'A+ student' as a way to help you when using loa or manifesting. YOU ARE A HUMAN; DO NOT THINK YOU NEED TO MEET STANDARDS TO BE PERFECT! i love you all and wanted to make sure you know i am NOT setting an unrealistic standard. this post is to help you with manifesting good grades and to inspire you. not for toxic motivation or unrealistic standard setting. - mindy
✧˖° ➼ 01. stop identifying as “bad at studying”
you will never outperform the identity you attach to yourself. if you keep telling yourself: ➝ “i suck at this subject.”➝ “i’ve never been good at exams.”➝ “i’m just not a naturally smart person.”
then you’ll stay stuck. why? because your brain is wired to prove yourself right. but when you shift to: ➝ “i am fully capable of mastering this material.”➝ “i am becoming an A+ student.”➝ “i study in a way that works for me.”
your actions start aligning with that belief. the way you approach studying changes. and suddenly? you’re not “bad at it” anymore.
✧ homework: rewrite every negative academic belief you’ve held about yourself into a new, empowering one. read them before every study session.
✧˖° ➼ 02. start acting like an A+ student right now
not when you feel “ready.” not when you’re already good at the subject. right now.
✨ an A+ student doesn’t: • cram the night before and hope for the best • avoid studying because it feels overwhelming • rely on last-minute motivation to get things done
✨ an A+ student does: • plan their study sessions like an actual strategy • break down material into small, digestible pieces • work consistently, even when they don’t “feel like it”
✧ homework: take one small action today that your A+ student self would take. even if it’s just organizing your study space or making a realistic revision schedule.
✧˖° ➼ 03. use strategic learning, not just memorization
most students study to remember. A+ students study to understand. if you keep forcing yourself to memorize facts with no deeper connection, you’re setting yourself up for forgetting everything under pressure.
🖇 better study strategies:• teach the material → pretend you're tutoring someone who knows nothing about it. if you can explain it simply, you truly understand it. • apply what you learn → don’t just read about a formula, actually use it in practice questions. don’t just memorize historical dates, understand their impact. • switch up your methods → your brain loves novelty. use diagrams, study cards, summarization, and active recall instead of just rereading notes.
✧ homework: find one concept you’ve been struggling with and try teaching it to yourself out loud as if you were giving a TED talk.
✧˖° ➼ 04. start believing you deserve high grades
subconsciously, a lot of people don’t actually believe they’re the kind of person who gets top marks. they might think: ❝ i’ve never been a straight-A student, so why start now? ❞ ❝ my past grades weren’t amazing, i probably won’t do much better. ❞
but what if you let yourself believe otherwise? what if you fully accepted that you deserve to succeed just as much as anyone else? because you do. and the moment you believe that, you start acting in ways that make it true.
✧ homework: visualize yourself receiving your dream grade. feel the confidence of knowing you earned it. then ask yourself: what would my future self tell me to start doing right now?
✧˖° ➼ 05. control your environment like a top student
your surroundings play a huge role in your academic identity. A+ students set themselves up for success by designing an environment that makes focus effortless.
🖇 small shifts that make a huge difference: • keep your study space clean & minimal (no distractions) • use a dedicated study playlist to trigger focus mode • have a go-to beverage (tea, coffee, water) to make studying feel like a ritual • wear comfortable but put-together clothes to signal to your brain that it’s time to work • remove your phone from your workspace entirely (or use app blockers)
✧ homework: make one intentional change to your study environment today. observe how it affects your focus.
✧˖° ➼ 06. stop waiting for motivation
A+ students know that motivation is fleeting. they don’t rely on feeling “in the mood” to study. instead, they: ➝ create systems (set study times, routines) ➝ make studying automatic (habit, not a debate) ➝ use momentum (just start. five minutes can turn into an hour)
✧ homework: set a 10-minute timer and study right now. no overthinking, no debating. just start.
✧˖° mindy’s personal tips
💌 your identity is everything. if you don’t believe you’re an A+ student yet, start acting like it anyway. your mindset will catch up. 💌 make studying feel aesthetic. wear cute study outfits, light a candle, make it a whole vibe. enjoyable studying = effective studying. 💌 romanticize the glow-up. your academic transformation is a story. imagine looking back and realizing this was the moment everything changed. 💌 you are not behind. you can reinvent yourself as a top student at any time. even now. even today.
xoxo mindy
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ghostfacd · 2 years ago
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SHE WAS LIKE A SHOT OF EPRESSO
pairing. tom blyth x actress!fem!reader (mentions of other actors x fem!reader platonically)
summary. in which you are the epitome of sunshine and radiance within your co stars OR all the times your co stars have talked interviewers’ ears off about you
installment of this au | read for context!
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Time 1: Tom Blyth
“How’s Y/N as a cast mate?”
That question shouldn’t make Tom Blyth smile that wide — but he does — because he’s so utterly and unconditionally inlove with you.
“Oh gosh, I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Tom begins. “As her boyfriend, I think I’m being pretty biased when I say this, but Y/N Avocot as a cast mate has honestly been the best experience of my life. There has not been a day where she doesn’t make me laugh so hard that my ribs start hurting, and there hasn’t been a day where she hasn’t made me smile.” He pauses for a moment, pondering the next words to say.
“Y/N’s just that type of person, you know? She’s like the warm sunlight that engulfs you every morning you open your curtains, she’s like that newly brewed coffee that helps hydrate and bring you back to life. She’s everything.” And he says this in such a loving manner that the interviewer practically awes, the cameraman zooming the camera to show Tom’s dilated pupil.
“Your pupils are dilated!” The interviewer mentions, laughing as she points towards his eyes.
“Oxytocin is a warm hormone that’s released when you talk about someone you love,” Tom shrugs. “All my friends say my pupils dilate when I’m near Y/N, that’s just the effect she has on people.”
“Well there it is folks! Tom Blyth is truly inlove with Y/N Avocot!”
Time 2: Sean Kaufman and Lola Tung
It was an interview discussing the new season of The Summer I Turned Pretty, and it consisted of Sean and Lola who’s schedules were the only ones that were open that day.
“Guys! We’re so happy to have you today,” the interviewer starts.
“Why thank you,” Lola smiles brightly into the camera, smoothing out her dress.
“So obviously, this season is very important to the plot, it contains so much new exciting storylines including Sean’s character, Steven Conklin, and Y/N’s character, Ella!”
“Yes,” Sean laughs, his eyes crinkling. “It was very fun filming the scenes with Y/N, she’s like that little rush of happiness that you just wanna keep inside a jar.”
“Actually!” Lola speaks up, crossing one leg over the other as she leans forward to the interviewer. “Now that Sean’s mentioning it, Y/N really is a rush of happiness. God, everyday on set, I always think ‘I’m gonna probably have to say my lines over a thousand times and be tired by the time I’m done’ but Y/N comes right in, and she’s always making funny faces behind the director which just fills my heart with joy and it’s those little moments that make acting really worth it you know? Like even though I’m dying re filming the same scene over and over again — I know that Y/N’s always going to cheer me up by the end of it.”
“Wow,” the interviewer laughs. “I haven’t even asked you guys about Y/N yet but she seems to be very loved by the crew.”
“Oh yeah,” Sean nods. “Everyone filming loves her. I mean, how could you not?”
And the interviewer thinks the same question, because after interviewing Tom Blyth, she really believes that you really cannot not love Y/N Avocot.
Time 3: Timothee Chalamet
“Timo!” The interviewer greets Timothee excitedly, moving the chair so he could sit.
“Jacob! My favorite interviewer,” and maybe Timothee’s lying, because he’s seen about a million interviewers by now, but it makes Jacob smile, not so much hating his job anymore.
“Your new movie, Miracles in Love, can you tell me more about that?”
“Yes,” Timothee takes a deep breath. “It’s about a boy and girl in their early twenties figuring out what they wanna be in life. My character, Louie Marcel, falls inlove with my co star — Y/N’s character — Maeve Jones after they bump into each other at the bar and talk about how depressing their lives are. It’s pretty funny, y’know. How easy it was to film with Y/N, in fact, it came all naturally.” Timothee pauses, a small smile playing on his lips.
“When you say naturally, what exactly do you mean by that?”
“Oh you know Jacob,” Timothee grins. “It’s easy to fall inlove with Y/N Avocot. She’s a remarkable actress, and everything that I filmed with her feels so real that it feels like I’m really Louie and I’m really falling inlove with a girl named Maeve at the local bar near my university.”
“Oh wow,” Jacob, the interviewer, can’t help but gush at Timothee’s endearing statement. “You must be very good friends.”
“Us? Of course!” He laughs as if it was one of the funniest statements on earth. “I’m really good friends with her boyfriend too, Tom. They’re honestly the sweetest couple, don’t know if I’m inlove with him or her. Maybe both,” he jokes.
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bellyapologist oh to be yn avocot and be so loved by her cast mates that they’re smiling each time they talk about her
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user1 literally like how do you not cry when you’re being called a literal rush of happiness
user2 lola and sean being so excited to talk about her even though the interviewer didn’t start the interview yet 😭
user3 shows that yn is rly a good person
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timotheesgf YN AVOCOT LET ME BE YOU PLEASEEEE LOOK AT HOW TIMOTHEE TALKS ABT HER GOD LIFE IS NOT FAIR
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user4 “it’s easy to fall inlove with yn avocot” FUCKKKKK
user5 “everything I filmed with her feels so real” oh tom and kylie are punching the air rn
user9 she must’ve saved a planet in her past life cause..
user10 same energy as “she was like a shot of espresso” 😭😭😭😔😔😔
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bernardsbendystraws · 1 month ago
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You Don’t Own Me
SERIES MASTERLIST
Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.
WARNINGS: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. Smut, dry humping, anxiety mf, bitch im crying idek anymore 😭😭😭
A/N: someone hold me 🥲 this is barely proofread btw
With love and big tits, Rose
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Part 30: Wreck My Plans
Fuck, it’s impossible to keep my hands off of him. Every second of every day for the past week has been a mix of highs and lows—both drastic and overwhelming. 
Chris had finished up online schooling. I still have a couple more weeks of school, but he’s already scheduled to start working a beginner carpentry job. 
It made me feel bad. He has a job, and I don’t. I’m living under their roof, eating their food, and I don’t even have any sort of income.
I started looking for jobs, but that led to Chris being weird. He kept telling me that I should wait, that I shouldn’t work while I’m trying to finish up school on top of everything else going on in my life right now.
It felt shitty. I’m not sure why he’s been so persistent with me waiting, but it’s been bothersome—a consistent low over the past seven days. 
But right now is one of the highs.
My mouth is hung open, my hands grabbing and squeezing his upper arms as he hovers above me, grinding his clothed bulge into my core. 
We haven’t had sex again, but that didn’t mean we hadn’t been touching each other. 
“Fuckin—god,” he rasps, pulling his lips to drag up my neck. Chris nibbles on my ear, huffing as I let out some sort of squeak as he hits just the right spot. “-my girl, my—my fuckin’ girl.”
The words make me arch into him, my mind turning into static as he slows his pace to drag his hips deliberately—hard into the radiating heat between my legs. 
My ears ring, a slight hum of vibrator distant, yet getting closer. Oh—it’s my phone. I grab onto Chris’ shoulders, a whimper sounding as he rocks himself into me repetitively. Looking at the screen, I see a familiar number. It belonged to one of the jobs I had reached out to, trying to find an application. 
“Chris, it’s the one job—” Before I can finish my sentence, I’m cut off by him letting out some sort of frustrated cry, my face falling as I see the look on his face. 
“Please, baby—just wait, o–okay?” His voice is shaky, his eyes rushedly darting over my face as he hovers over me, still and pleading with his eyes. “-promise I’ll explain…just—fuck,” he husks, rolling his clothed length onto me at the perfect angle—rubbing against my pulsing nerves with a motion that makes my crawl with a tingling sensation. “-need you right now, I…I need y–you.” 
I bite on my lower lip, completely letting the noise of my phone vibrating turn into a background thought. Tangling my hand through his hair, I pull him forward until his lips meet mine, my eyes squinted shut as he starts to tense harder and harder—the pattern of his thrusts a bit sloppy as he moans into my mouth. 
“Keep—keep going, Chris, please,” I whisper, holding him closer as his head dips into the crook of my neck. 
Erratic movements make me jolt. This feels so good it hurts. There’s nothing but him and I right now—swallowed in pleasure and love while melting into sensations of bliss.
My mind turns to mush. The repeated motion makes the knot in the pit of my gut unravel with a bursting electricity. Warmth flushes over every inch of my skin, a lewd moan falling from my mouth consumed into Chris’ lips as he places his lips on mine.
“Oh my—” he grunts into my mouth, a sound erupting that is so raw it makes my sore legs tense again. The aftershocks of my high are settled by each breath, my eyes  trained on him as he pushes himself as hard as he can against me, halting with an apparent warmth. 
It’s weird, but I love seeing him cum. There’s like some sort of possessive desire in the pit of my gut that constantly craves the sight—a sight that’s only meant for me and me only. 
“You look so hot when you cum for me.” I voice, the sultry thoughts escaping my lips before I can fathom any sort of doubt. 
Chris huffs staring up at me, his lips turning into a subtle grin as his eyes twinkle into mine, “-only for you, huh?” he laughs. 
I shrug, nodding as he lets out an even breathy chuckle, laying flat on top of me. The heat makes it a little sticky. My clothes are clinging to my skin slightly, but I don’t care—not enough to move at least. I want to be here. I want to be under him—touching him, my heart beating against his own. 
Clothes didn’t seem to be as annoying until now. I loved the way everything felt, but now? Now I want to feel him—really feel him. 
His skin on mine was like rain against soil. It feels good, sure—but it’s more than that. It feels like it’s meant to be, like I can sense our energies leaking into each other in a way that’s purely intimate beyond physical aspects. 
Chris finally catches his breath. He stares up at me with a goofy smile printed on his face, some of his hairs damp and stuck against his forehead. “Hi,” he voices.
I scrunch my nose, rolling my lips together before letting my eyes float to his. “Hi,” I echo, gently sweeping the hairs on his face to the side with my pointer finger. I let my hand slide down, caressing his cheek. Chris sways into the touch, holding my palm with his own hand behind mine. 
“Hi.”
The repeated statement from his end makes my lips curl into an unrelenting smile. I watch as he drags my hand in front of his face, kissing the center of my palm before interlocking our fingers.
“I should call that number back.” I sigh. 
Before I can remove my hand to reach over for the device, Chris holds tighter, his eyes furrowing as he licks over his bottom lip. 
“I…can we talk?” he asks, shaking his head before letting out a slight laugh, “-can we talk when I have clean underwear, actually?” 
My eyes narrow. I chew gently on my lips, nodding slowly. “I…yeah? You’re making me anxious,” I mention. 
Chris slides off of me. For some reason, I can’t let my eyes rest on him. I look up towards the ceiling, listening to him change and clean himself while my nervous thoughts run rampant through my head. 
“-it’s nothing bad, just…” he comes over, interrupting my thoughts with a swift kiss to my forehead, “-just wanna talk to you.” 
I sink into the mattress towards his body as he lays down. His arm curls around me. My chest squeezes as he takes a deep sigh. 
What is he going to say? 
Why do we need to talk?
Almost as if he’s sensing my anxiety, he squeezes me a bit tighter, letting out a hesitant laugh while pulling me in closer. “I can feel you thinking—it’s…it’s making me anxious.” he jokes. 
I let out a puff of air, shrugging. “Sorry.” 
“You’re okay, don’t say sorry…I…I know I’m probably making you nervous, I just…I don’t wanna say the wrong thing, you know? I don’t…um…”
As his words ramble off to silence, I hear him swallow thickly. I curve my neck to stare up at him, the sight of his eyes so dazed making me realize he’s really lost in thought. 
“Hey,” I voice, rubbing my palm on his chest to catch his attention. His eyes snap towards mine, a slight frown on his lips making me reflect the same expression. “-talk to me.” 
Clearing his throat, his nose twitches. “I, um…well, you know the job I’m starting soon?” I nod. “-well, it…it’s not here, it’s—”
“Not here? What—what do you mean?” I huff, cocking my head towards the side while staring at him. 
Chris gulps. His eyes squint shut, his tongue darting over his lips as they seem desperate for hydration. “It’s in that town, the one our vacation home is in. Dad said I could live there while I start my new—”
“You’re leaving me?” 
The question lingers in the air. Seconds feel like hours as I see the emotions of stress written in his eyes. 
“No…I…I don’t want to. It’s why I was hoping you could look at jobs out there—”
Oh.
Oh.
He wants me to follow. 
“-and we…and then you could—”
The ringing in my ears consumes every thought. I can no longer hear his voice, all I hear is thoughts rushing through my head—too fast to be fully comprehended. 
I’d be leaving. Not that far, but far enough to be away. 
Baylen was going back to college anyhow, rooming with my ex. It’s not like I’d be going to visit him—it’s not like he’d come over to Chris' house to visit either, not after he shoved him that night. 
But I’d also be leaving my mom. No words or explanations she had given did anything but hurt. Excuses upon excuses felt like putting salt in the wound instead of healing—but I want her to say something that will help. 
I want her to be my mom again. 
I can’t just leave…can I?
“-are you okay?”
His voice turns me back into reality. I stare into Chris’ eyes with a saddened defeat. The only family I’d be losing was his. There’s no doubt in my mind that we’d see Jimmy, Matt, and Trevor occasionally—but something about that stings. 
I’m not really losing anything. Not more than I already have.
“Do I even tell my mom or my brother?” I ask. 
Chris sighs, his eyes flickering between mine as he shrugs, shaking his head. “I…I don’t know. You don’t have to come though, you can stay here—I know, I know I don’t own you. I don’t—”
“I’ll think about it.” I say. 
He lets out a heavy breath, his shoulders falling with some relief. My eyes narrow as I look around his room—the walls seeming a lot more nostalgic than the faint memory of the paint of my childhood bedroom. 
I had good memories here—memories that made my soul feel good. I didn’t really have those back at ‘home.’ 
I didn’t really have anything at ‘home’ at all. 
___
The air is humming with a slight breeze. Steps patter on the cement, Jimmy’s large boots clacking repetitively while Trevor’s collar jingles. 
Jimmy insisted on an early morning walk just the two of us. Last night's events kept replaying in my head—the second I turned down bacon, Jimmy set down everything and asked me to go on a walk with him and Trevor. 
We walked in silence for a bit. It wasn’t uncomfortable at all. Sleep was still lingering in my posture as I let my feet lightly drag on the ground, the morning summer breeze making me feel more lively. 
“Okay, talk to me, kid. What’s going on? You’ve never turned down my bacon.” he points. 
I huff, laughing at the ridiculous tell-tale sign of my stress. My mom never bothered to ask what was wrong unless I was crying—and that didn’t really happen much. She only knew the signs of distress that a stranger could know while Jimmy knew I was upset because I said no to bacon. 
She feels like a stranger, Jimmy doesn’t. Looking at him felt like I was looking at a support system—family. He has my back, but he also has me. 
The stupid things add up. All the dad jokes just to see me smile, all the questions about my day just to check up on me—they’ve all made me feel secure, he’s made me feel safe. 
He’s made me feel loved and cared for. 
“I, um…” I shake my head, trying to gather the words, “-Chris had…I…”
“He asked about you going out to the vacation home? Getting a job out there, right?” he asks, helping me finish the sentence.
I nod, my face showing a bit of shock as Jimmy laughs.
“Kid was shitting his pants trying to ask. He’s real scared of making you feel trapped, ya know? Doesn’t want you to feel like you’re being controlled, he wants you to make your own decisions, just…just got a heart so full he doesn’t know how to deal with it.” 
“What…what do you mean?” I ask. 
Jimmy pauses. I halt next to him, my eyes looking into his as he spares me a comforting smile. “I mean he’s trying. He’s convinced himself that he’s being selfish with you. He really wants ya to go with him, just…he’s got a lot of love he’s scared of losing.” 
Love to lose. That’s what’s at stake for Chris. He wants me with him, but he wants me to want it too. 
“I want to go with him, but…but it seems…I don’t know…too good to be true?” I mumble.
The weight of my words makes my face scrunch with distaste. I could imagine it. Even though we’ve technically been living together for weeks, this was different—this was just us and we’d be facing new challenges. 
What if one day he decides he doesn’t love me anymore? I mean, Baylen used to love me—maybe he still does, but one thing could break a relationship or even mess it up permanently. 
I don’t want that to be us. It’s riskier if we’re living together as adults. It’s different when it’s a whole new world that we’re having to step into. 
Growing up doesn’t seem easy or predictable. I’m sure of him now, but what if something changes? What if I slow him down or stress him out? 
It’d be inconvenient for me to come with him—it’s like committing to a dog before you’re settled in your home by yourself. 
How are we supposed to know and be sure if he hasn’t even seen what it’s like by himself? 
“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.” Jimmy butts, pulling me back from my loophole of thoughts with a firm stare. “-there’s multiple bedrooms. It’s not like you wouldn’t have your own space if you wanted it…it’s just…he’s my kid. I know my kid. He wants this opportunity for both you and him. He knows getting away and being independent would help you both.”
He wants it because it would help us both. Chris has been thinking with us in mind—not just himself. 
“I…I’m sorry about your family, alright? But you need time. You can’t mend a wound only after you’re noticing it, not when it’s so fresh and everyone is just…panicking. You need peace of mind before you can talk, take it from me—would’ve saved me time for a lot of damn things.” he huffs. 
I giggle as Trevor nudges my legs. Looking down, I crouch to pet him, my heart binding with warmth as he rubs himself against me with his snout. 
“I think you’re right, I…I just…I kinda wish it hurt more to leave, I guess. Like, technically, I’m not really leaving any family behind…not—not in a way that’s like…I don’t know how to explain it,” I sigh. 
“Stand up.” 
His voice is firm yet gentle. I straighten my knees, my eyes widening as I feel Jimmy wrap his arms around me, pulling me into his chest in a tight hug. 
Something about the way he’s clutching me into his chest makes my eyes water, a lump in my throat collecting as he rubs my back. 
It doesn’t feel like a hug from a stranger or a friend. It feels like a hug of pure love. 
“I–” a sniffle from him makes my chest collapse, my eyes squinting shut as I feel a warm tear glide down my cheek. “-I’m gonna visit, but god—I feel like I’m losing a son and a daughter. I love you, kid. I…me and Marylouw always wanted a little girl, I just….I know—she would’ve loved you too.”
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messyoungie · 8 months ago
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HABITS TO DROP WHEN GETTING YOUR LIFE TOGETHER
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➝ CREATING UNAUTHENTIC & UNINTENTIONAL GOALS
the biggest mistakes you can make when creating goals is making goals that aren’t true to you and making goals for the sake of making goals.
it can be so exciting when you decide to get your life together. I mean, of course it is! there are so many possibilities! but when you start planning, don’t just write down the goals you see circulating on social media. what works for someone else may not be what works for you. don’t make your goals and habits based on what’s trending or popular in the self improvement community.
think about what you actually need for a minute. what is actually necessary? your goals and habits aren’t here to be glamorous, they’re here to help regardless of how simple or small they are. the point of thinking up new habits is to improve your life, so be intentional with your goals. what will practicing this habit or achieving this goal give you?
when you’re first starting out, your goals don’t have to be anything too crazy or intense. for example, let’s say you want to become a pink pilates girl and get into fitness. you shouldn’t jump right into it and say your goal is to work out for 2 hours 5 times a week. let’s consider some factors first. have you been living a completely sedentary kind of lifestyle? then try looking for exercises that’ll wake up dormant muscles. your goal should then be to repeat those exercises for how ever many times a week. then you’ll work your way up from there. (it’s important we don’t harm the body, so be mindful with your fitness goals.) what about your schedule? how much time can you actually give to working out? can your body even endure working out for that long?
anyways, hopefully you see what I mean. when creating goals, it’s not about having the “aesthetic” habits and goals that you may see on tiktok or tumblr. it’s about doing what is actually good for you and what’ll help you the most with where you are now in your journey. so please put some thought into your goals and where they’ll take you. creating unauthentic and unintentional habits will also mean you’ll be less likely to keep practicing them after a few times. at the end of the day, that doesn’t help you achieve anything and you’re left with a broken promise you’ve made to yourself. which leads me to my next point…
➝ NOT KEEPING YOUR WORD WHEN IT COMES TO YOU
let me start off by saying this— if you don’t even listen to yourself, why should anyone else? (harsh, ik)
a HUGE reason as to why people have no self confidence is because they don’t listen to themselves or keep the promises they’ve made to themselves. if you have no self trust, how could you have any self confidence?
now, building discipline can definitely be a challenge so if you want to start somewhere easy, nip your false promises in the bud and stop yourself from making them. that’s what I did when I was first trying to stop this habit. when my addiction to tiktok was at its peak I would always tell myself the usual “ten more minutes and then I’ll stop scrolling.” when I wanted to stop making false promises, I knew I had no control or discipline so the only thing I could do is be real with myself. I’d cut myself off when I heard myself say “five more minutes” because I knew it wasn’t going to happen. if I wasn’t going to quit my bad habit, then the least I could do is be honest with myself.
the things that you are constantly telling yourself, whether they’re mindless or intentional, matter.
so, stop telling yourself seemingly harmless lies. unnecessary false promises that you know are false will only fill you with tension.
➝ SEEING FAILURE AS AN INVITATION TO GIVE UP
this applies to so many things.
you wanted to be consistent with your reading goals but haven’t read a chapter in a week? dont give up. don’t tell yourself that being consistent is too hard for you, that since you missed a week this habit isn’t for you. make your goal a bit easier or give yourself another chance.
you wanted to spend more time doing art but it’s not turning out how you expected? dont give up. dont give yourself the title of a “bad artist” and never pick up a pencil again. move forward, give yourself another chance.
you wanted to quit your Instagram addiction but after a couple days you went back to scrolling for hours on ig reels? Don’t give up. dont tell yourself that this addiction isn’t gonna go away, don’t go back to the bad habit because you slipped up. give yourself another chance.
I think a lot of us (myself included) tend to give up at the first sign of failure, instead of reminding ourselves to keep going. it’d be wonderful if you could get it right on the first try. if you could read ten books a month right away after not reading a book in three years. if you could watch hours worth of tutorials and sketch the perfect portrait on the first attempt. if you could uninstall instagram for good and never feel the urge to go back. that would all be so amazing, but it’s not always the reality. expect the best from yourself and do the best you can, but also give yourself some compassion. keep in mind that you won’t always do things perfectly right away and that’s one thousand percent okay. when you feel yourself slipping up on your brand new goal, don’t end it there at the first failure. allow yourself to move forward, because the only other direction to move is backwards.
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acciojaeyun · 7 months ago
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let me hold you close | p.sh.
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PAIRING. rich!sunghoon x fem!reader
SUMMARY. you and sunghoon are both off-limits. you're still living with your ex, and he's off to get married to someone that has been arranged for his family business. but that doesn't stop you both from trudging boundaries when it's just you and him in your own world.
CONTENTS. smut, some angst, some fluff. LOTS OF JEALOUSY. smut with plot. not beta-read. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
WARNINGS. lots and lots of jealousy. sunghoon is DOWN-BAD for reader, but the feeling’s mutual. indirect cheating (but not really???). semi-public sex, dom!sunghoon, bratty reader. somewhat mean hoonie. oral (both f and m receiving), p in v, unprotected sexual act (use protection at all times), temperature play, sensory deprivation, slight bondage (just tying up), sir kink (oh yeah baby), spitting kink. use of pet names (wiee). THREE SEX SCENES. (seldom mentions of hyung line: heeseung, jay, and jake) IDK I WROTE THIS BEFORE I COULD FULLY WRITE EVERYTHING.
WORD COUNT. 4.7k
AUTHOR'S NOTE. FINALLY IT'S HERE. belated happy birthday, my hoonhoon! this is my hoon birthday gift for y'all. hope you like it! (did i write two sunghoon smuts already? yes, yes i did.) also, wait for further updates, i might be updating anyone from the hyung line soon! wink wink.
MY LIBRARY. REQUESTS ARE OPEN! TO BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST, YOU CAN SEND ME A MESSAGE.
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There was something about him.
Park Sunghoon was the image of something so mysterious – yet, so captivating. His eyes held something deeper than what he tries to convey. You tried to hard to look away, but his actions, his stance – they command attention.
So much, that they commanded yours.
He has been a constant, a regular at the bar that you're working in every weekend to make ends meet. He was the hot bachelor that belonged in the upper VIPs that usually had a secluded room where they could share small talk over top shelf drinks.
Your first encounter with Park Sunghoon was when Byeol called in sick, and that meant you took over her shift as the personal-hired entertainer at Room 130.
"Please, Y/N," Byeol pleaded through the phone, coughing as her voice scratched against her throat, "if I could, I would. I'll take over your shift for the next week. You'll have my pay for tonight."
Now, additional income is something that is very difficult to shake off, no matter how it takes a night that consists of Neoguri noodles off of your schedule.
You wore your signature red cocktail dress, one that hugs all your right proportions beautifully, but not too tight, with a slit that doesn't go too up high on your thigh. Matched with a wave that's swept to the side, it is a no-brainer that the four men of Room 130 didn't even ask where their usual entertainer, Byeol, is.
"What a pretty face," Jake comments as he takes a sip of his armagnac, his eyes travelled down to your legs, but went back to your face, "nice voice, too." He adds.
Sunghoon was late, muttering an excuse that was along the lines of: his mother made him stay for a supposed meet-up with someone.
"Mommy's still on it?" Heeseung jokes, grabbing some of the snacks on the table, shaking his hand to remove the residue of it before pouring it to his mouth.
Sunghoon sends a look over Heeseung's way, making the oldest boy chuckle, "Well, you have to follow mommy's orders, or else, you're gonna whine about how your daily allowance has been reduced to half."
The rest of the boys chuckled, alongside the girls that were in the room to hold them company. Sunghoon was not the most pleased, he knew that Heeseung is right. He has to find a lady or else he will be arranged to a wedding just to keep up his expenditures and his lifestyle.
"Who's the girl?" Jay asks as he places his hand on the small of the back of the lady that sat on his lap, his eyes on the girl that giggled as she kept on tracing the edge of Jay's jawline.
"I don't know," Sunghoon grunted, eager to down a shot that was already on the table, "all I know is I have to find a partner ASAP, or else, I'll be wed to someone I could care less about."
That was when his eyes landed on you, singing a song softly as you held your vintage microphone. His eyebrows perched up slightly, and he smiled to himself.
Now, it has been approximately the fifth consecutive week that Sunghoon had tried to talk to you, alone, on your supposed shift at the public part of the bar.
Sweeping past through sweaty bodies as well as people that are drunk off their minds, Sunghoon was determined to at least know you better. It only took one song and one damn dress to catch Sunghoon's attention.
Lucky for him, he had caught your attention, too.
The thing was, you had a boyfriend – well, a roommate, if you will. Since love was obviously out the window, and that you were trying to sustain each other's stay in your apartment that has its contract nearing its end by the end of December.
Well, another reason was that your then-boyfriend was still trying to win you back.
And while you're certain that you're over him and is keeping him at bay for benefits, he certainly was not, and it somehow was making you guilty that you're somehow leading him on even when it was Sunghoon's face that you think of whenever you press your bullet vibrator against your clit, leaving out broken, breathy moans that underestimated how much you think you're going to moan for Sunghoon if time permits you.
Which brings you to here, a never-ending cat and mouse game that you have established with Sunghoon, who clearly was so head-over-heels for you.
The ordeal was simple: you, one of the bar's beloved entertainers, would finish a song that you sing and dedicate for Sunghoon, but wander off with a smile as you try and find yourself a suitable man vying for your attention. It was effective for you to make him jealous and demand your attention on him for the next hours.
Sunghoon had never gone past the eating only the third base, and Sunghoon was more than willing to eat your pussy on hours end. And you were willing to let him go past that, if only you haven't seen the ring that adorned his left hand, snug tight around his ring finger.
It was a stark reminder of how he was not for you, just how you are starting to become his.
"You sing here often?"
"I do," You'd giggle to whoever this guy's name is, you really didn't know, nor even tried remembering. You were sure it wasn't his name that you'll be screaming in the bathroom stalls of the bar.
"I should bo-"
"Then I'd want to book you, privately," Sunghoon cut the guy off, his voice reeking of jealousy and authority as he stood behind you, your back flushed against his chest.
"Ya," the boy raised his voice and poked Sunghoon's blue sweater tank top, "do you mind? We're talking here."
"And I'm talking to her, as well," Sunghoon responded, his eyes crinkling into amusement, "do you not want to talk to me, baby?" He pouts at you, nuzzling his chin to your neck as he leaves light kisses on it, making you gasp.
"I.." You trail off, biting your lip as your eyes moved back and forth between the guy and Sunghoon.
"I'm not wasting my time on this," the guy raised his hands in defeat, backing away, leaving you with the guy that you have tried to flirt indirectly through the night.
"Fancy seeing you here against sweaty bodies," You giggle as you turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down teasingly to have his lips over yours, to which Sunghoon growled and pushed his lips on yours, immediately pushing his tongue inside your mouth as his hands dug on the curves of your waist.
"You drive me so fucking crazy," he whispers to your lips, in which you hum as a response. Not a long while after, you're being guided to one of the restrooms, his lips now attacking your neck to leave noticeable bruises that you're trying to cover up before you go to your morning shift at the local library of your town.
He pushes you to an empty restroom, not minding to lock it as he cages you in between his body and the sink. “Are you having fun?” He suddenly asks as he pools your dress up your hips and starts rubbing you through your wet panties, “Playing with me, are you having fun?”
You looked at him through lidded eyes and nod, “I do,” you say as you bite your lip, spreading your legs wide, “I like it when you’re so crazy for me.”
He grunts and kneels down, pulling your panties down as his nose is immediately wafted off by the smell of your arousal spreading throughout your core, “So wet for me, the guy did that to you?” He spoke as his thumb pressed on your bare clit, making you shudder.
“N-no,” you squeaked out, holding on the sink behind you, “it has always been you.”
“Always been me?” Sunghoon chuckles as he blows air to your sensitive cunt, “I don’t know, babe, I’m starting not to believe it given how many times I’ve practically pulled you off against men who are thirsting over you.”
Not leaving you any moment to respond, Sunghoon attaches his lips to your sensitive nub, moaning at your familiar taste that he had been obsessed with.
Moaning his name, you immediately hold on his hair, tightening your grip on his soft, brown-black hair, to which Sunghoon tuts as he pulls away, his thumb replacing his lips as he presses and rubs circles on your clit, “You don’t get to touch me, princess.”
Grasping your wrist, Sunghoon had practically forced your hand off his hair, placing it on the sink behind you to continue his ministrations on your pussy.
“Love this pussy so much,” he breathes out, poking his tongue out to fuck your hole with, “so pretty, could get in this forever.”
You moaned in response, desperate to cum just by Sunghoon’s fingers alone. Instinctively, your hands went to play with your breasts, pulling your dress straps down to pool on your arms, you bit your lip as you pinched and flicked your nipples, mimicking the way Sunghoon does it when he was mouthing your tits instead of your pussy.
Sunghoon looked up at you and smirked, sneaking in a hand between your legs to spread your labia apart, forcing his tongue deeper into you as he shook his head sideways, nose prodding against your clit, mouth leaving out noises, making sure that anyone could walk in the unlocked restroom and catch you both in such sinful act.
With buckled knees, you started to grind on his tongue, your mind dancing on the quick release that you felt was bubbling at the pits of your stomach, “Y-you eat pussy so fucking good.”
“That’s where I’m best at, babe,” Sunghoon winks at you, pushing his middle finger inside you after tracing your hole with it, “and can you blame me? Your pussy tastes like heaven.”
“O-oh!” You squeaked out, feeling your orgasm could come if Sunghoon continued this. And as if Sunghoon knows how to push your buttons, he adds a second finger, then a third, his tongue now dancing on your clit as he panted against your core.
“Fuck - shit, Sunghoon!” You exclaim as you push his face to your core, panting as you whine, eyes screwed shut with your other arm failing to hold on the counter, regardless of how dry the sink it may be, body convulsing as you cum on Sunghoon’s face.
Sunghoon happily licked through your folds, slurping your cum messily and noisily. He stood up with your cum glistening on his lips, his mouth sporting the smuggest grin that made you want to kiss his face silly.
“Damn,” you breathed out, leaning toward his chest to ground yourself.
“We’re not done yet.”
Needless to say, Sunghoon made sure that you could cum thrice from his fingers and mouth alone.
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The following week, you were in the same position — however, instead of your hand holding on the sink, it was Sunghoon’s, with his other hand fisting your hair as he holds you still while he fucks your mouth to prove a point.
“So f-fucking warm,” Sunghoon grunted, his balls trodding against your chin as he kept on cursing, too lost in the bliss of your mouth taking him tightly, mimicking a virgin pussy.
With blood almost drawn on his lips, Sunghoon lets out a guttural groan as he pushes you against his pelvis, his penis bullying its way on your throat as strings of warm cum painted your throat.
“Should get you jealous more often,” Sunghoon comments as he regains his breathing, “such a desperate slut you become once you start reminding me whose pussy my dick belongs to.”
Before you could respond, the tall boy pushes his lips against yours hungrily, tongue immediately poking inside to start a tongued kiss with you, cupping both of your cheeks, he made sure you aren’t going anywhere.
“Thighs,” you started, too overtaken by lust, but Sunghoon heard it, he held your face with one hand to force you to look at him, “Your thighs, Sunghoon, I want to-“
“Yeah? Wanna grind on it, pretty?”
You nod, anything that could have you feeling him against your throbbing core, “Please,” you pleaded, grabbing his wrist to make you suck on his ring-clad finger, “want it, so much.”
Sunghoon almost lets out an animalistic growl as he pulls you to one of the stalls. He reaches behind you to lock it before turning around and places the seat down, sitting on it before urging you to straddle him.
Pooling your dress over your lap, you did as you were instructed. Hanging both arms around his neck, you stood up to pull your panties down, the slight string of arousal visible from the cloth.
On the other hand, Sunghoon already had his pants and boxers discarded, his angry cock lay erect against his stomach. You licked your lips and straddled him again, your legs on either side of his thighs, thigh-grinding long forgotten.
Both of you hissed as your pussy made contact with his dick, and soon enough, you were both a grinding mess, your grinds interrupted by humps as you groped your tits, your head thrown back as you continue to moan Sunghoon’s name.
“Yeah, moan that n-name, he’s y-yours, isn’t he?” Sunghoon hissed, his hair all over his face before leaning down to suck on your free boob that has been exposed from the tubing of the dress that was pulled down by you prior.
“Mhm, he’s mine!” You squealed as you hit your high just in the same time as the pale boy you’re sat on.
“Fuck,” you chuckled.
“Damn,” Sunghoon said breathlessly before kissing your lips and leaning his forehead against yours.
It was the first time he kissed you on the forehead after hooking up.
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Last, last week’s hookup session with Sunghoon has all become you’ve ever thought about as you placed the books on the shelves, pausing every now and then as you daydream of it.
It has been two weeks since Sunghoon had shown up in the bar that you’re working at every weekends.
And while you hoped that he could at least sweep in to wave or send a smile your way. But Friday had gone, so has Saturday, even Sunday - no signs of Sunghoon.
His absence seemed to gnaw on you as you started to search for him during weekdays at your off-duties, but none. No sign of Sunghoon.
And you can’t even text him, since he hadn’t given his number, and you didn’t, too.
You’ve found his Instagram page, but it has never been updated apart from the photo of a golf course which he had posted four days ago. Stories didn’t also help, as he never updates his stories. DMs are off, and the only way to contact him was through e-mail.
E-mailing him had crossed your mind the moment it reached Thursday, you were so close to losing your mind that you didn’t even care whether or not to message him through his work e-mail, regardless of the possibility that anyone within the network could see it.
“That’s too much of a thought,” said a voice that startled you. Turning around, you saw the infamous Sunghoon leant agains the bookshelves, arms crossed, mouth adorning a soft smirk that you’ve grown to love.
“Please, I bet you’re thinking I’m thinking of you,” you snorted as you continued sorting the books, eyes not meeting his as his gaze challenged you.
“Well, I don’t even have to bet. I know you’re thinking of me whether you admit it or not,” Sunghoon countered.
“What an ego,” you muttered as you rolled your eyes, disappointed by his sudden absence for two weeks, even without giving you a notice as to why.
“Where are you off to, tonight?” He asked out of nowhere.
“Home, as usual.”
“My place?”
“No, what do you mean?”
“You said you were going home?”
“Since when had your place been my home?”
“Are you willing for it to be?”
“Sunghoon, what?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him, looking at him as if he had three heads in one body.
“I’m serious, stay with me.”
“Sunghoon—“
“I don’t take no for an answer.”
“Sunghoon!”
“What a noisy librarian do I have here,” Sunghoon smirked, “I like it when you’re noisy though.”
With an exasperated sigh, you pulled Sunghoon at the back of the library, “What are you doing, Park Sunghoon?”
“Full name? Ouch,” he placed a hand on his heart.
“Sunghoon,” you said through gritted teeth.
“Let’s go home,” he said instead of answering your questions, pulling you by your arm to the direction of his car that has been parked in front of the library.
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Now, it was supposed to be just a talk. A negotiation between you and Sunghoon to finally end whatever it was between you both, both your heart and mind exasperated by the uncertainty that was brought about by you and him.
But here you are, biting your lip as Sunghoon kissed you on your neck, alternating between kissing, licking, and sucking, as he kept your hips pinned down by the grip of his hands on it.
“Stop moving,” he demanded, looking at you with such fire in his eyes whenever you bucked your hips up onto him.
“Need you,” you whined out, desperate to grind on him again, this time, you were hoping that it would last long and be much more comfortable than the last time that you did in the stalls.
“I know, sweetie,” Sunghoon smirked before sitting up to grab his black necktie which he had on his nightstand, “This okay?” He asked as he raised the necktie before you, insinuating a plan that he had in mind.
With a nod and a verbal agreement, Sunghoon wrapped the blindfold around your head before pulling away to see you in your totality: laid back, eyes covered by the velvet cloth of his necktie, and naked — all just for him.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” Sunghoon comments as he grabbed the cloth ropes that dangled on the edge of the headrest, grabbing it with a smirk, he hoists your arms up, making you gasp, as he tied it to the to the headboard.
He tested whether the knot was tight or just right, before peering down at you and cupping your cheeks as he leaned down to kiss on you.
Adjusting his body, Sunghoon left a trail of kisses from four face down to your nipple, before swirling his tongue around your sensitive nub. Pulling back, he grabbed the cold glass of champagne that sat on the trolley by his bed. Grabbing a small ice cube from the bucket of the bottle, he circled the ice around your nipple, earning a gasp from you.
"Cold, isn't it?" He questioned before leaning down again to give your other breast attention, and after a while, he switched places, giving you the same amount of pleasure from the cold and his warm mouth alone.
He trailed the melting ice cube down your body, making you shiver at how the cold trail was instantly replaced by his warm lips as he kissed you along the wet path of the melted ice cube.
"You and your pretty body," he whispers before grabbing another ice cube again, this time, he placed it on his tongue, letting the cold replace the warmth of his tongue.
Peering down between your legs, he crawled down until he was face near your core, making you sigh in anticipation, it was moments like this that you craved for Sunghoon to speed up his actions. It was no lie that Sunghoon ate pussy pretty good, and sometimes, you think, how good could he be when he finally has his dick inside you?
Sunghoon pokes his cold tongue against your hole, making you squeal as your legs thrashed up in surprise. He grinned as he gave kitten licks to your core, his hands pushing your legs far apart before diving into your cunt.
Moans and groans and the occasional noise from Sunghoon's licking on your core were all that could be heard in his bedroom. He kept his eyes on you, basking in your reactions before he inserted his middle and ring finger inside you, contrasting the coldness of his tongue.
"Fuck! I love your m-mouth," you whimpered out, wriggling from the overwhelming feeling that only Sunghoon had managed to get out from you.
"Always f-fucking my pussy with that m-mouth so, g-good - Sunghoon!" you exclaimed as you came on his mouth without warning, Sunghoon humming as he licked through your folds, mimicking the noise of that a happy man.
He straightened up and freed his aching cock from the restraints of his trousers and boxers, hissing as his dick slapped against his stomach before hovering over you again to tip your chin up for a messy kiss.
Sunghoon licked into your mouth before prodding it open so he could spit into it, "Swallow," was all he said before you closed your mouth and opened it in front of him to show him that you did what was told.
The boy groans as he places his dick in between your folds, setting his pace as he starts from something that's agonizingly slow, drawing out a pained whimper from you.
"Hoonie, want your cock."
"Yeah?" he breathed out, picking up his pace, "you already have it been your legs, pretty."
"No," you shook your head, "want it."
"Want it, where?" he starts to slow down without much thought as he dawns realization to what you said.
"Cock, Hoonie, w-want it inside me."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, fuck! Please, hurry!" you pleaded, hands pulling against your restraints, "Want it inside me, Hoonie, please!"
"Condoms?"
"No, raw."
"Baby–"
"Please!"
One beg from you and Sunghoon's heartbeat has already picked up. Before you both even started seeing each other to hook up, you have already established that the farthest you could go with each other is oral. Other than that is off the table, as you have said, you both are completely off-limits.
Sunghoon's chest warmed at the thought of you warming up to him, "Okay, baby," he breathed out, "are you sure?"
"I am," you whined.
He leaned over and removed your blindfold and restraints, letting you adjust before pushing his lips on yours, "Thank you, thank you," he muttered in between kisses as he pulls himself away, prodding the tip of his dick on your throbbing hole.
"I gotta say," Sunghoon chuckled as he pushes his tip inside you slowly, earning a delicious moan from you both, "you're so goddamn pretty, more exceptionally so when I'm inside you."
Sunghoon has a way with words, that's one thing that you made yourself known. That was something about him that you think was what sealed the deal – he fed into your need for constant assurance, even though there were limitations between you both.
"Push it all in," you demanded.
Without another word, Sunghoon pushed himself inside, earning a throaty groan between you both.
"Shit, f-feel so g-good for me, oh, my god," Sunghoon breathed as he pushed his face into the crook of your neck, your arms immediately finding home around his torso.
Sunghoon picks up his pace as he continues on bullying his way inside you, relishing on how your pussy throbs around his dick. With every thrust that he lands inside you, your eyes roll at the back of your head, feeling the pulse of the veins of his dick with every drag.
"God, Sunghoon, I–" you cut yourself off with a groan by his ear, cradling his face as he placed light kisses on your shoulder, "Fuck, Sunghoon, so good!"
The boy pulled his face away, prying your mouth open as he spit into your mouth, his cock drilling inside you in the slowest, yet most delicious way. It was as if he was trying his best to memorize how your gummy walls enveloped his dick, in the hopes of making your pussy remember his.
And, to commit this into memory, Sunghoon removes the ring he had clad around his ring finger, reaching for your left hand that hung around your shoulder, and, in a lust-filled haze, he wore the finger around the nearest finger that was accessible to him, he'd fix that later.
Your eyes wandered to the ring that adorned your thumb, before biting your lip and looking at him. Sunghoon already adjusted himself, kneeling straight as he hikes your leg up and places it on his shoulder; and with a roll of his hips, both of you are already a whimpering, moaning mess.
"So f-full, fucking finally," you moaned out and Sunghoon reaches for your other hand to intertwine it with his, "Yeah? Been dreaming of it for so long, huh?"
Tapping your cheek he makes you look at him, "Been dreaming of this, t-too, baby," he says, panting, "been dreaming of d-doing more than just this, too,"
You looked at him with doe eyes, your lips dropping down to his lips, "Kiss me, Sunghoon."
Sunghoon nodded and kissed you, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts, it was in that moment that only the two of you existed.
"You're squeezing me so f-fucking..." Sunghoon trailed, eyebrows drawn to each other in concentration, "..so fucking good for me, God, I love you."
His hands travelled down to your clit and rubbed circles around it, making you whimper and pull his face to yours, your lips wanting to get a taste of his again.
"Not gonna last l-long, princess," Sunghoon muttered in between grunts, "You close?" He said as he looked at you, searching your eyes for more than just your sign of being as near as he is.
You hum reaching your head up to peck his lips, "M-me too, Hoonie, dick is f-fucking me so g-good," your head attempting to throw back as his tip kept on hitting that sweet spot inside you.
"I love you," Sunghoon whispers as he lets go of your leg on his shoulder, pressing onto your body as he finally lets go of his cum inside you, your release following suit after he kept on thrusting even if he was coming undone inside you.
For a while, you both had stayed in that position, Sunghoon still deep inside you in between your legs, legs weakly wrapped around his body, both of your arms wrapped around his neck as you combed through his hair.
There was a heavy weight in the air, something that demands to be addressed.
Sunghoon lifts his head up, his chin rest against your chest. With a quick kiss on the valley of your breasts, he pulls the hand that had the ring wrapped around your thumb, he kisses your inner wrist, before, with lidded eyes, removing the ring and placing it instead to your ring finger, kissing your palm after a close inspection.
Sunghoon had never been so sure in his life, until now.
"I meant what I said," Sunghoon says quietly, his eyes now trained on your hand, eager to confess that it had always been you all along.
"Sunghoon, we can't.."
"Why?"
"You're going to get married,"
"I called it off."
You looked at him with a gasp, "What?"
"I said I found a partner, I always told you I'll always have you close, right?" he says as he sent you a soft smile, relishing in the hand that played with his hair.
"You're crazy," you chuckled.
"You make me go crazy over you," Sunghoon smiles with his eyes almost close.
"I love you, too, Sunghoon."
And when your eyes both meet, Sunghoon smiled softly, and that was when you both knew – it was where you both are supposed to be.
Sunghoon hums as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, this time, sure.
"Stay with me tonight," Sunghoon whispers.
"I'll stay tomorrow, too," you add.
"And on the days after that?" Sunghoon asks, his cheek pressed against your chest.
"And on the days after eternity."
© acciojaeyun, 2024.
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DISCLAIMER. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED/REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ.
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lunarriviera · 4 months ago
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I'm watching Guardian right now but the god awful CGI is making me laugh during serious moments. help.
legit reaction tho, almost all the CGI is truly hilaribad, especially during the first few episodes (that whole water demon/spirit thing? wow. just…wow) (and chu shuzhi's puppet ksdhfksfd whyyyyyyy)
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BUT. here's the thing about guardian: 1) try to think of its kitsch as a feature, not a bug. just go with it, lean fully into all of the cringe. shen wei's dorkiness. dixingren being meteor-mutated aliens imprisoned underground. snake lady. talking cat. zhao yunlan's terrible hair (that at least will change). just EMBRACE it. that way when the very sharp knives suddenly come out and start flashing, in classic cdrama style, you will be completely taken aback and gasp in shock, and, not long thereafter, begin to weep and not stop until 3 days after you've seen the last episode. because, if you truly accept the initial lunacy of guardian, eventually it WILL gut you like a wriggling fish.
also 2) it's much easier to accept the rocky production values if you make mental allowances for how the company went utterly bankrupt midway through filming; the only reason guardian ever got finished AT ALL was that the cast and crew basically decided to work for free on an insanely accelerated schedule, during which all the actors are having to wear their own clothes. (fortunately for zhu yilong he had kept a bunch of pieces from modeling shoots, so he's able to fabricate some kind of more or less consistent Look for shen wei—like the painted-on blue suit with its inexplicable ass chain. mad drip.)
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like. everyone knows this already so i'm sure you do too but there's a reason they have one (1) good piece of music (the opening song) and that's about it: they just flat ran out of money. this had some good results (we never have to see chu-ge's puppet again) and some not so great ones (i won't spoil you but let's just say it involves internal organs). ultimately, guardian only knows how to do three things but it does those superbly well: a) zhu yilong and bai yu staring at each other with ravenous desperation, like they're gonna die if they can't breathe the same air forever, b) a time-loop script that really comes through in the back half, and c) related to both of these, an ending that WILL make you throw objects around your home and then immediately read the novel/a bunch of fanfic. the good news is it's an amazing novel (though very different) and the fanfic is sine qua non. (also you get two ships for the price of one so don't sleep on chuguo.)
these are my 7 am thoughts on guardian. i wasn't sold on it at all until about a third of the way through but by then i was clutching it to my face sobbing and begging it to never end. guardian is weird like that—either you're gonna fall for it so hard it will change your entire media life (the way btvs or x-files did for fans in the 1990s) or you'll wind up dropping it. which is fine! for brilliant cgi you can watch like, idk. the expanse or something. (and fwiw i laugh at serious moments ALL THE TIME, my film students really hate it. i feel like it's a gen x coping strategy but they're alpha and very Earnest and Sincere.)
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tldr watch guardian at least until you get to the kitchen scene before you decide. then you'll know if it's right for you. love you madly!! <3
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karvokr · 1 month ago
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consult required
the brain runs on impulse, instinct, and input. and it responds best to consistent, hands-on care.
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masterlist pairings: neurosurgeon!nanami x trauma surgeon!reader content warnings: mdni, unprotected piv sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), desk sex, semi-public sex, established relationship (married), creampie/slight breeding kink if you squint, overstim, aftercare, cum-eating :p, mutual obsession, grey's anatomy realm of believability, code of conduct violations (professionals not being professional) <3
“You’re going to give yourself another headache.”
Your arms are crossed as you lean against the door frame of his office. It’s past midnight, and the hospital has gone still– only the occasional squeak of rubber soles and the low hum of fluorescents break through the silence. Nanami doesn’t look up. He’s seated at his desk, back impossibly straight despite the hour, jaw set. 
He looks too casual– just a fitted black compression shirt, sleeves pushed to his elbows, blue scrub pants slung low on his hips. No lab coat. No tie. But you’re not surprised. A nurse mentioned he’d come out of surgery less than thirty minutes ago.
He flips a page in the chart, but his focus clearly isn’t on post-op notes anymore.
“You should be home,” he replies. “Or in the OR. Heard another case came in.”
You arch a brow, tilting your head at him. “What, keeping tabs on me now?”
His fingers still against the page, eyes flicking up beneath tired brows. “I know your schedule better than mine,” he says. “You’ve been on the board since six this morning.”
You smirk. “Jealous?”
“No.” He closes the chart– slowly, deliberately. “Concerned.”
You scoff, closing the door behind you and stepping closer to where he sits, leaning in just enough for him to notice the shift in heat. “Hard to sleep alone, you know,” you murmur. “Might be easier if my husband came home before sunrise for once.”
Nanami’s gaze holds steady, but something softens around the edges– like guilt slipping through a crack in the armor. “They paged me in for a tumor resection,” he replies, and you see his shoulders start to slump as he brings a hand up to rub at his eyes. “Midline. Pediatric. I couldn’t push it.”
Your teasing fades a little at that, but you don’t move away. You brush your fingers along the edge of his desk as you rest against it, voice quieting. “I’m not mad, Kento,” you say as you glance at him, eyes warm. “I just miss you.”
After a long pause, he stands, chair scraping softly beneath him. He steps in close and his hands find your waist– steady, grounding.
“I miss you too,” he says, voice lower now. Closer. “Every hour I’m here.”
You let the moment stretch, then loop your arms around his neck and smile– soft, a little wicked. “Then maybe you should start sneaking me into the on-call room again. For old times’ sake.”
“Do you flirt like this with all of your colleagues, or am I just lucky?”
“What can I say? I’ve got a thing for men who operate on brains for a living.”
His hands slide up beneath your scrubs, resting just beneath your chest– warm. “How coincidental– I’ve got a thing for stubborn, brilliant women who don’t know how to take a break.”
You huff a quiet laugh, tilting your head. “Bold words from a man who calls four hours of sleep and a protein bar a full recovery. What exactly did they teach you in med school?”
Nanami doesn’t smile, not really– but something shifts in his gaze. He closes the distance, lifting you onto the desk with practiced ease, stepping between your thighs like it’s routine. His hand settles at your hip– light, but firm.
“That people like us don’t stop until someone makes us.” His hand glides past your chest, fingertips brushing your collarbones under your top. “Which is why I’m staging an intervention.”
“Yeah?” You lift a brow, lips tugging into something a little dangerous. “And what does that look like, Doctor Nanami?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Just watches you for a long, weighted second– like he’s measuring the risk, the timing, and the rule he’s about to break for the second time this week.
Then his hand trails from your chest back to your thigh. “Well, Doctor Nanami,” he says low, “it looks like me doing my job… taking care of my strong-willed, overworked, impossibly beautiful wife.”
He kisses you– firm, focused, like he’s been holding this in since morning rounds. His hands slide down over your hips, gathering the soft fabric of your scrub pants as he pulls you against him.
There’s no rush– but there’s urgency. The kind that simmers hot and quiet beneath long days and longer nights, under passing and fleeting glances across the surgery floor. His mouth trails down your neck, hot and open, and when his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your scrubs and underwear in one fluid, practiced motion, he groans against your skin like it hurts to finally touch you.
“Still so wet for me,” he breathes, voice raw with restraint. “You’re going to be the death of my self-control.”
You gasp when his fingers slide through your folds– slow and thorough, like he’s trying to memorize you again after too long apart. Your hips twitch forward, instinctive, chasing the drag of his touch. He gives you more– just barely– enough to make you ache for it.
“You say that,” you whisper, breath stuttering, “but I think you like losing control sometimes.”
He chuckles softly against your neck, lips brushing your pulse. “Only for you,” he murmurs. Then his thumb circles your clit– tight, measured pressure that makes your thighs tremble. “Only ever for you.”
He pushes two fingers inside you, slow and deep, curling them just right like he already knows where you're falling apart. Your breath hitches, back arching into his body, and he presses closer, hand at your spine to keep you upright as he fucks you open with steady, calculated strokes.
“God, look at you,” he groans, watching the way your mouth parts, the way your hips roll. “Falling apart already.”
“Kento–” Your voice is half-whimper, half-warning.
He silences it with a kiss– messy and consuming, lips sliding over yours like he needs it as much as you do. His fingers pump into you harder, your slick soaking down his hand as he grinds his palm against your clit.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs into your mouth, voice breathless. “I’m so lucky.”
You’re shaking– legs trembling, body unraveling, clutching the back of his shirt like a lifeline, the fabric bunched and twisted between your fingers. You reach down blindly with your free hand, palming him through his scrubs, and the soft, strangled groan it earns you is reward enough to make your thighs twitch.
He’s so hard for you– thick and straining beneath the fabric, the shape of him hot and heavy against your hand. You rub your palm over him again, slower this time, and his hips stutter into the movement, but he doesn’t stop. He never stops. His fingers keep fucking into you, curling just right, fingertips brushing that spot inside you over and over while his palm presses hard and steady against your clit.
“That’s it,” he rasps, eyes locked on your face like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. “Let me feel you.”
Your whole body tenses, thighs clenching around his wrist, the heat coiling low in your stomach about to snap. It’s too much– his mouth on yours, his hand deep inside you, his cock hard and hot under your touch, his voice in your ear like a prayer.
You gasp, and it breaks. Pleasure floods you in a wave so sharp it steals your breath, white-hot and blinding as you cum hard around his fingers, hips bucking, a cry caught between your lips and his. Your grip on his shirt tightens, the world narrowing to the rhythm of your pulse and the warmth of his mouth and the way he groans your name as you fall apart in his arms. He doesn’t stop– just slows, eases you through it, holding you upright while you shake against his chest.
You’re still catching your breath when he withdraws his hand, and you hear the slick sound of your release as he brings his fingers to his mouth– sucks them clean without breaking eye contact.
“You taste like home,” he says, voice barely there.
Then he undoes the tie on his pants.
There’s nothing rushed about it– just the soft hiss of fabric sliding down his hips, the flex of his jaw as he wraps a hand around himself and strokes once, twice. His cock is flushed and heavy, the tip already leaking, slick with the mess you’ve made of him. You can see the way his breath hitches as he fists himself– slow, controlled, like he’s restraining the urge to lose it right then and there.
He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, voice strained.
“Do you want me, baby?”
“Yes,” you pant, voice shaking. “Please.”
He tugs your scrubs down, pulling them off and tossing them to the floor without a second thought. He lifts one of your legs, opening you up for him, his gaze dragging down to where you’re wet and aching for him.
His cock twitches in his hand at the sight.
“You sure?”
You meet his eyes– darker than you’ve seen them in weeks, pupils blown, expression ruined. “I’m yours, Kento. Always.”
The thick head of him pushes in slowly, stretching you inch by inch until you’re clenching tight around him. You gasp, one hand clawing into his back, the other gripping the edge of his desk like it might anchor you.
He’s so deep it burns in the best way– thick and hot, the slide of him dragging against every sensitive inch inside you. He groans low in his throat as he bottoms out, forehead dropping to your shoulder.
“You’re perfect,” he breathes. “Always are.”
He pulls back just enough to thrust again– harder now, smoother, the wet sound of your bodies colliding echoing off the office walls. The desk creaks under the force, your breath catching with every impact as he finds a rhythm– filthy, focused, relentless.
Each stroke slams into you at just the right angle, hitting deep, pressing against that spot that makes your vision blur. The sound of him– grunting through clenched teeth, breath hitching, skin slapping against yours– is almost enough to push you over the edge again.
“No one else gets this,” he grits out, hand locked on your waist, the other holding your thigh to keep you open. “No one else ever will.”
And all you can do is nod, whimper, dig your nails into his back more as the coil inside you tightens again– faster, needier, hungrier. He’s fucking you with practiced precision– precision born from obsession, from every late-night memory, every time he’s taken you apart and put you back together again.
He knows your body better than he knows his own.
Every thrust is fervent, deliberate– merciless in the way his hips slam against yours, and you swear you can feel him in your chest, in your bones, curling like heat around your spine.
“That’s it,” he groans, jaw tight, sweat beading at his temple. “Just like that– fuck, I love you.”
Your walls clamp down around him and he stutters– just once– hips faltering, muscles twitching, as if the feel of you pulling him deeper is enough to break his control completely.
“Kento– please–”
You’re too close to form words, every nerve on fire. Your body tightens, your nails drag red lines across his back, and he fucks you through it– hard, desperate, entirely his.
A second orgasm slams into you– shattering and sharp, stealing your breath like a rip current. You cry out, sobbing his name, head thrown back as your legs shake around his waist and your body clamps down around his cock.
He groans– wrecked, raw, guttural– as you milk him.
“Fuck– you’re everything– perfect. Take me so well– fuck, gonna fill you up, baby.”
He thrusts once, twice more, then stills completely, buried to the hilt as he spills into you with a strangled moan, forehead pressed to yours, breath catching as he cums hard. His hand trembles where it grips your thigh, the other sliding to your lower back to hold you close.
You feel the warmth of it inside you, thick and deep, the pulse of him still twitching as he gasps your name against your cheek. The only sound for a long moment is your breathing—ragged, uneven, tangled together like your bodies still are.
When he finally pulls back to look at you, his gaze is soft. Tender. Like you’ve broken something in him just by loving him like this.
“Couldn’t do this without you,” he whispers, voice hoarse, fingers brushing along your cheekbone with a tenderness that makes your chest ache.
You swallow, blinking up at him as your fingers tighten just slightly in his shirt. “You don’t have to.” Your voice is quiet. “You’ll never have to.”
That pulls a quiet breath from him– almost a laugh. His thumb strokes your cheek again before he dips down, pressing a kiss to your temple. Then another, lower, at the curve of your jaw. Unrushed.
He eases out of you slowly, carefully, murmuring soft apologies against your skin when you flinch at the aftershock. You feel the slick mix of you both starting to slip down your thigh, and his hands are already there, steadying you.
“Stay still,” he says gently. “Let me clean you up.”
You expect him to reach for tissues, maybe your scrub pants– but instead he kneels, drops to his knees between your legs like it’s instinct, like worship, and rubs his hands along your thighs, gently guiding them apart.
“Kento–”
He looks up at you, gaze steady. “Let me.”
He leans in, tongue dragging slow through the mess between your thighs, licking up his own release with a groan that vibrates through your core. His hands hold you firmly in place, and all you can do is gasp– overstimulated, wrecked, trembling all over again.
When he’s finished, he presses a slow kiss to the inside of your thigh before standing, tucking himself away and pulling your scrubs back up your legs with gentle, almost clinical precision. His fingers linger briefly at your hip, like he’s reluctant to let go.
Once you’re both dressed again, he runs a hand through his hair and glances at his watch.
“I should take you home,” he says, voice low. “Let you sleep in a real bed. With a locked door. And fewer fluorescent lights.”
You smile, stepping into his space again, your hands sliding beneath the hem of his shirt just to feel skin. “Careful,” you murmur, resting your cheek against his chest. “That almost sounds like romance. Might have to report you to HR.”
Nanami exhales a quiet laugh– subtle, but real– and wraps an arm around your waist, anchoring you to him.
“Pretty sure the HR violations started when you sat on my desk,” he says dryly.
“I was checking on my husband,” you counter, not bothering to hide your grin.
“Mm.” His lips brush the crown of your head. “Very professional.”
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dr.nanami as promised <3 planning on turning most of these into fully fleshed-out fics, lmk which ones you would want me to expand most!! and let me know which au you want next :p thx for reading ily
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pedropascallme · 9 months ago
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☆Kinktober 2024☆
Day 17: Face sitting
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) mentions of survivor's guilt/PTSD, little bit of dirty talk, oral (f receiving), allusions to handjobs, kinda fluffy? If I missed anything please let me know!
AN: listen for a kinktober fic, I’m actually pretty proud of this. I will find any excuse to write fluff with a version of Joel who is absolutely out of his mind in love with you <3
Sunlight streamed into the bedroom, waking you, and swaddling you in a hazy glow in the otherwise dim room.
The rays that poked through the curtains illuminated tiny specks of dust in the air. It served as a reminder to you that the house needed a deep clean.
But that could be a problem for later.
Now, you turned on your side, admiring how dawn crept into the bedroom to turn Joel’s graying hair gold-flecked. The light warmed his tan skin, and you pressed your face into his chest where a sunbeam had made a home for itself.
“Mmph,” Joel grunted when you threw your leg over his thighs. “Early for you, ain’t it?”
“Not awake yet.” You lied, dragging the pads of your fingers over his shoulder, touching just to touch.
Truthfully, after the first week at Jackson, you hadn’t been able to keep a consistent sleep schedule.
Those first few days had been bliss; going to bed whenever you wanted to, simply because you could; waking up late in the afternoon, lazing about without a care in the world, unhurried and unbothered.
But the what ifs still found their way to you, and you heard whispers in the creaks of the mattress, footsteps in the settling of the house’s foundation—your mind’s will to survive was persistent, no matter how badly your body craved the rest it had so earned.
“Seem pretty awake, crawlin’ on me.” Joel sighed, finally blinking his eyes open. He wrapped his arms around you, humming softly.
His pattern of keeping vigil until he fell over himself had stayed the same. Most nights, you were asleep before him; most mornings, you were awake long after him.
The rifle stayed propped up in the corner closest to him, and he made you sleep as far away from the door as the room would allow.
If your will to survive was persistent, his was organic, ingrained into his DNA and built to last. And he wasn’t going to let old habits cease because of the sudden appearance of creature comforts.
He couldn’t trust like that.
“You make a more comfortable pillow than this one,” you gestured to the fraying pillowcase stuffed with a sad combination of hay and feathers, pushing yourself up to meet his gaze. “Hard to stay asleep when my neck goes stiff at the thought of lying down on that.”
“You still tired?” Joel ignored your complaints.
He was used to the way you rambled, finding details to pick at and fuss over—you and Ellie both, a chorus of discontent and laughter.
He had grown accustomed to it, even finding himself appreciating it. You lamented even the most tedious things, as if the world hadn’t ended, as if the worst catastrophe you’d ever faced was a lumpy pillow.
It humanized you. He liked that.
But he wasn’t going to let you lose sleep over something as superfluous as uncomfortable bedding.
“I’m…” You hesitated, weighing whether or not you could get away with lying. But you stifled a yawn, and you knew he’d see right through you either way. “A little, yeah.” You moved to straddle him completely.
“Go back to sleep.” He said it as if the solution was obvious, as if you hadn’t already tried and failed to close your eyes and fall back into the comfort of unconsciousness.
You rolled your eyes. “Thanks, I was waiting for permission.”
Joel scoffed at you, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
“Y’get mean when you’re tired.” He pressed his hand against your back, still bare from the night before.
“So do you.” You huffed, trying to hide the smile that appeared when his palm began to sweep up your spine.
“Ain’t I always?” He craned his neck to look down at you, and you let your smile widen.
“I just feel bad…” You chewed the inside of your cheek. “I wanna sleep the day away, but there’s—everybody always has something to do. I want to be able to carry my weight, and…you know. I mean, you don’t get any sleep at all, and I would rather be sleepy and grumpy with you than asleep in a bed without you.”
Joel nodded. “I can stay in bed, sweetheart,” he curled a strand of your hair around his finger. “Won’t leave you alone, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He let the hair fall from his hand and then rewound it around his finger again.
“No, no, it’s more than that,” you tried to explain, “I just—I think I feel a little guilty…”
Joel nodded again, letting the heavier part remain unsaid.
Of course you felt guilty. That heavy pressure of survivor’s guilt contorted your emotions and made you feel as though you were underserving of a bed to sleep in, a space to call home.
Because how many people had seen a house like this before they were infected? Been in their own comfort zone when they had the life torn from them? And how many people would never be able to have something like this?
How many people had you cut down in their prime, ensuring they’d never see a place akin to home again?
There was little comfort in finding comfort. And it was a melancholic, pathetic feeling.
“C’mere.” Joel didn’t like it when you worried. He could bear that burden himself.
He wanted you to feel full and satiated. Safe and taken care of—because you deserved it.
After everything, he didn’t know anybody more deserving of it than you.
His hands trailed over to the curve of your ass, pushing his palms against you gently in an effort to get you to move up his body.
“What?” You tried to play dumb, but you knew what he was asking for.
“C’mon and let me tire you out, sweetheart,” he raised his eyebrows, acting as though he was stating the obvious. “Y’wanna be my wakeup call, let’s make it worth our time.”
You smiled into the crook of his neck. “Gotta tell me how.”
“Breakfast in bed, is how,” he growled into your ear, squeezing the meat of your thigh. “Sit on my face.”
You swallowed a moan, pushing yourself up from his chest and inching up his body.
It always felt awkward—not uncomfortable, per se, but you felt like you must look so unnatural walking on your knees to straddle his face.
You steadied yourself, knees finding purchase on either side of his head. Your core hovered over his face, and you tilted your head down to look at him.
“Now…when you say sit…?” You shifted reluctantly.
“I mean,” Joel wrapped his arms around your thighs, tugging you into him so that you were forced to rest your weight on his face. “Sit.” His final word was deadened, muffled by your cunt against his mouth, and you shrilled out a moan as he dragged his tongue through your folds.
“Joel—” You breathed, his stubble scraping gently against your sensitive skin. You felt your shoulders relax, leaning your head against the wall behind the headboard. “Oh, fuck, just like that…”
He moaned against you, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking. You arched your back, and Joel moved one hand from your ass to rub softly up and down between your shoulder blades. He flicked his tongue over your swollen bud, eyes darting up to see your face as you chanted his name.
He loved you like this—desperate and whimpering.
All for him.
Joel released your clit, circling his tongue over your entrance before plunging it into you.
“Yes,” your head fell back from the wall, and you brought your hands up to grope at your own chest. “You—god, your mouth feels so fucking good.”
His nose bumped against your clit as he strained to press his tongue into you deeper, extending the muscle to lick at your walls.
The hand that had remained on your ass squeezed into you. His fingers dug shallow bruises into your flesh as he began to push and pull, encouraging you to grind down against his movements.
You obliged happily, rolling your hips over his mouth and whimpering for him. He let out a guttural moan, fulfilling his own needs by making you feel good, and it made you grind against him more desperately.
He wrapped his lips around your clit again, sucking urgently. The bursts of pleasure became overwhelming, and when he kept pushing his tongue against your clit in frantic shapes, you let the electric feeling wash over you completely.
Your legs squeezed his head, and if you’d been less distracted by your orgasm, you might’ve worried about suffocating him.
Instead, you reached down to pull at his hair, resting your forearm against the wall and catching your breath to give yourself more strength to cry his name.
When he didn’t let up, lapping at your cunt through the aftershocks of your high, you tugged his hair harder, squirming out of his grasp. He got in one last, slow lick up your slit before acquiescing and letting you wobble off of his face.
You fell back against the mattress, trembling and sleepy. You curled into Joel’s side, looking up at him through your lashes.
His face was coated in your slick, and he looked as fucked out as you probably did.
“Best bed and breakfast I ever been to.” He sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and tugging you further into him.
He caught you in a kiss, licking into you leisurely so that you could taste your spend on his tongue. You sighed against his mouth, delighted by how your taste mingled with his to create something so euphoric.
“I’m always worried I’ll smother you, or something.” You yawned, unable to hide the way he’d managed to tire you out.
“That’s exactly how I wanna go, sweetheart.” He chuckled, and you swatted at his chest playfully.
You ran your hand down his abdomen, stopping at the base of his cock. He was hard, and it would be so easy for you to wrap your hand around his length, dip down and offer him the release he’d just given you.
“Can I—” You looked up at him, eager to give him the same treatment in return for his generosity.
But he was asleep, his lips parted, his skin still damp with your cum.
You smiled to yourself, bringing your hand back up to rest on his chest and settling against him. You leaned on his shoulder, letting the same sunlight that had roused you lull you back to sleep.
And with Joel beneath you, sleep came easy.  
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luludeluluramblings · 10 months ago
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Dick Grayson's Obsession with Smalltown!Reader
A/N: Why dialogue hard? Why so hard? Y'all I tried, once again. I saved Dick for last because I really really really did not want to screw up his character. I did end up adding a scene from Part Seven in here. Just to give it some pizzazz.
A/N: Part Eight is in the works, but it’s either gonna be massive or I’m going to have to divide it up. Also, people be posting so straight up fire in the Yandere Bat tags lately. Good stuff, I needed that.
Warnings: Yandere themes, physical affection.
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Out of everyone, Dick was the most enthusiastic about Reader coming to Wayne manor, while also being the most melancholic. The tragedy of their arrival wasn't lost on him, despite the thrill he had over the thought of having another person to add to hi life. Already, the need and wanted to smoother them in comfort and care was there. But, the life experiences he had allowed him to realize it was probably best not to overwhelm them.
Therefore, it came out in short burst of staggering affection at times. But, only when he was visiting. (There was no denying the fact that he was extremely tempted to call them on the phone just to make sure they were settling in just fine. And, that he fought that temptation every single night.)
That didn't stop him from feeling some minor annoyance with Bruce for keeping the fact that they existed a secret. Dick had seen the affects of this life and even felt them, but to let the family nearly miss out on something so honeyed with normalcy was cruel. (It would have been preferred if they didn't have to lose their parents in order to join the rest of the family, but it was hard to think like with how busy his schedule was and soft they felt in his arms.)
Admittedly he may have latched on to them too hard in the beginning. They felt stiff the first time his arms wrapped around them. The guilt of it gurgled in his throat, which is why he cut it short and went about his business. But, he couldn't stop the urge to do so each time they crossed each other's paths in the manor halls.
And, much to his glee, they start to soften. Slowly, but surly, they start to cling to him a little longer when his arms wrap around them. They start to depend on him. For once the thought of someone so conventional depending on him as Dick rather than as Nightwing, because everyone seems to depend on him as Nightwing, doesn't fill him with anxiety. It makes his chest flutter in a different way. Not with anxious butterflies, but with a flicker of a warmth.
It's completely innocent, the way the craving starts. He has to talk himself out of rearranging his entire schedule to be around them. Especially after the kidnapping incident. But, the Rouge break out gives him plenty of work to distract himself, and more frequent chances to find them in the manor for a dose of his new source of comfort.
His feelings finally start to become clear when rather than holding him longer and tighter, they finally reach for him themselves.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
“And, how is my favorite person today?” Already Dick has his arms opened wide for you when you walk out of the kitchen. He always appears from the depths of the manor, before he wraps around you like a slow creeping vine blooming with all sorts of sentiments.
"Alfred was doing good last I saw." But, by now you've grown to appreciate the way the tendrils curl around your limbs and burrow themselves into you. A small grin forming on your face at the chance to finally have someone to talk to, even if he isn't consistent company.
"Alfred isn't my favorite person, and you know it." The banter between them enjoyable and the undertones of his words ignorable in your obliviousness. "But, seriously, how are you doing today? You look like you have something on your mind. If it is you can tell me, you know that right?" The concern pouring put of his lips, as his grip tightens.
He had seen you through the cameras and had overheard the longing phone calls. The fact that your birthday was coming up had crossed his mind, and the realization that this would be your first without your parents did register in his brain. (But, it would also be you first with them. With him.) Bringing it up to you seemed like a bad idea. But, he would still try to encourage you to spill your feelings to him.
"No, no. It's nothing I promise." Your reply was soft and dismissive. But, the dishonesty was noticeable in it still.
Dick's arms seemed to tighten around you as you spoke, as if he was trying to decode the root of your troubles from the way your heart was beating against his chest. Eventually, he does loosen his limbs around you.
As he looks down, you known and he knows you’re lying. For a moment you think he going to push. To try to choke the words out of your lungs with another tight squeeze. But, he doesn't. Instead he lets you breathe.
"Okay," is all he says.
No extra nor unnecessary words. No constant reassurance that he'll always be there for you. Just a single word and the room to breathe. Those other things have already been said. Multiple times, in fact.
It's this one instance where he lets you breath that somehow gives you lungs the air it needs to blurt out what's bothering you as he pulls away.
"I wanna go home." The words escape your lips when you finally exhale and reach for him. The words coarse. "I just really want to go home for a bit. I miss home. I miss my family. I just—“
Dick doesn't even let you get halfway before he's enveloping you again. A slight tremble in his hands as he sprouts around you once more.
This. This is what he's wanted. You coming to him with your raw feelings. And, he knows he's the first person you've said this to at all.
"How can I help you?" He asks instead of questioning the statement.
"Can you help me convince Bruce to let me go, please, Dick?” The tentative way you ask and look up at him has him caving immediately.
"Of course!" Perhaps it was a good thing you didn't grow up in Wayne manor. If Bruce hadn't spoiled you, he most definitely would have. "I'll bring it up to B as soon as he gets back."
"He's gone?" You hadn't been informed of him even leaving, but then again, you were hardly every informed about anything it seems.
"Yeah, work emergency. It wasn't a big deal, but he'll be back soon." Dick can sense the mild tone shift, but manages to shift it back to something more lighthearted. "I'll make sure to butter him up for you. I swear. Puppy-dog eyes and everything."
It works, because before he can even clutch you to his chest you already wrapped your arms around his torso and pulled yourself towards him. Just the way you hug him tells him how genuine this type of embrace is. This is how you hold people. And, now, this is how you hold him.
"Thank you, Dick. Thank you." Comes your muffled reply into his chest.
The way you nuzzle into him like that's where you belong, because that's where you do belong, and the way you say his name causes his heart to melt. And, his mind to slowly sinks into the puddle it became.
Dick could stay like this for hours, but you start to pull away after a solid minute.
"I should let you get going. I know you got a lot of stuff to do." Your words sound so hopeful and understanding as you him go. The way you look up at him like he is your hero just for this simple small thing is touching.
Inwardly, he curses. The criminals of Gotham. The criminals of Blüdhaven, the team, the family, his schedule. Everything. He curses it all for that moment, because he could be holding you to his chest longer and having you look up at him like that instead. But, he lets it pass. He manages to let it go just as you pull away.
"Yeah, I do. But, don't think I'm going to brush off helping my favorite person in the world." Plastering on a well practiced pretty smile as he speaks.
"So, that means you got somebody more important off world? I see how it is." You tease in return as you fall for the practiced charm.
"Maybe." Dick lets the banter easy his mind. In reality, even off this world, you're probably his favorite, still. It should scare him, but it doesn't. "I'll let you know how Bruce takes the request. But, I'm prepared to sneak you out of here if necessary."
"I'll get the spy music ready, just incase." Things are starting to look up, and it's nice to have someone in your corner in this massive estate.
"Mission Impossible theme?" His grin become less practiced at the thoughts of having an adventure with you.
"Nah, the Pink Panther one. Just for the shenanigans." Your own grin growing wider and wider.
"Now I want to sneak you out just for fun." And, he means it. Already mentally planning your trip back home with him escorting you. And, then you possibly coming and staying in Blüdhaven with him in his guest room. Just to get you out of the manor, of course. Clearly you need it.
He can't ignore the way his pocket keeps buzzing, though. Clearly the others are in the cave waiting for him. But, they can wait a bit longer, he thinks diving in for one last embrace.
As you wholeheartedly reciprocate, he can see one of the secret security camera out the corner of his eye and he can't stop the smug smile from forming on his face as his gives you one last squeeze in front of it.
With the way his phone stills, he can tell the rest of them saw. It's not his fault they're too scared of physical affection to actually hug you. But, it does give him a monopoly on it with you.
As he makes his way down to the Batcave there's a skip in his step and that smug smile is still on his face.
He makes sure to look at everyone's faces as he joins them. Soaking up their envy. All of that wasn't to make them jealous, but it's kind of nice to have.
"Was all that necessary, Grayson?" Damian being the first to break the silence by practically spitting the words out through his gritted teeth. Even with his perfect poster the tension coiling in his limbs is visible to the untrained eye.
"Someone's got to be the one to do it, little D. And, clearly, they needed it." Dick's tone was placating, but his smile wasn't. The way he stands in the center of the room reminiscent of an orchestra conductor.
"Don't use them as an excuse for your touch-starved tendencies, Dick." Barbara retorted, rolling in her chair towards another computer. She immediately began typing on it at a furious pace, clearly trying to distract herself.
"Low blow, Babs." He whistled in return. Everyone else seemed focused on giving him the silent treatment causing his grin to widen further. "I can't help that I'm a naturally-"
"I just texted Bruce about it." Duke suddenly says, looking up from his phone with a smug grin. He face had been blank before, but the way his eyes glanced up at Dick and the others when there heads jerk towards him showed off a hint of self-satisfaction.
"That's cheating." Childishly spills from Dick's mouth. This was suppose to be his favor to them. His. Not anyone else's.
"Bruce doesn't get text while in the Watchtower." Stephanie points out while uncurling from her seat, but the damage is done.
"Could we contact Father in the Watchtower?" Damian practically leaps from his seat and rushes to the Batcomputer where Tim sits. Alliances quickly being drawn up.
"He'd be pissed if we contacted him for something like this." Jason adds with a grin. He doesn't bother looking up from cleaning his guns, just not at all bothered by the prospect of pissing Bruce off.
"But, then message would be logged into the League data base." Comes Barbara's stern voice from her computer, her typing coming to a pause. Tim still keeps at whatever he was working on before Dick walked into the cave, but on the screen there is a flash of airline websites so it's fairly easy to conclude what his plan of persuasion is.
Cassandra watches the exchange reading the emotions through everyone's movements. Silently, she throws her bid in as well. Choosing to slide over to Stephanie and signing the making of a plan.
From there it spirals into an all out argument between each and every member of the family. Debating logistics and exchanging petty insults that seems to go on for hours. Hardly anything gets done while words are being thrown around like bullets.
In the back of his mind, Dick once again curses everyone and everything for ruining this for him. But, he reassures himself, the banter from earlier comes back to him.
It's a decent plan, he thinks. Sneaking Reader out of the manor. Convincing Bruce would be ideal, but it wouldn't be the first time he's broken the rules. And, it's for their happiness and well being. They need him. They asked him for his help. Not the other's. Not anyone else's. His. Bruce will understand.
Besides, it would be nice to see the Smalltown they grew up in. It sounds like a quaint little place. What could possibly be wrong with it?
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tacobacoyeet · 3 months ago
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operation: just kiss already | jake peralta x reader
a/n: thank you for the request @glennussy! did you know that not only are you responsible for my first suits fic, you're also resposible for my first brooklyn nine-nine fic? how cool is that?! here's a short, silly little thing.
warnings: nothing really, but i tried to capture the cadence of an episode of brooklyn nine-nine with this, so it's not my usual writing style.
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The bullpen was quiet.
Suspiciously quiet.
Which should’ve tipped you off, but you were too busy arguing with Jake over the objectively superior Die Hard sequel. (It was the third one. Obviously.)
“No way,” Jake was saying, leaning so far back in his chair that it teetered on two legs. “Die Hard 2 has snow. Explosions. A villain who looks like the guy who sells hot tubs at the mall. It’s festive and explosive.”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s derivative and soulless. John McClane deserves better. Die Hard with a Vengeance has buddy cop magic. It has riddles. It has Samuel L. Jackson.”
Jake gasped. “You only like that one because of the riddles.”
“Correct. And also because it’s better in every possible way.”
He grinned at you, all teeth and ridiculous enthusiasm. “You’re so wrong, and it’s adorable.”
Unbeknownst to either of you, Rosa had entered the bullpen mid-debate. She stood frozen for a second, eyes narrowed as she watched Jake scoot his chair closer to yours under the guise of making a point. You were both laughing now—loudly, obnoxiously, obliviously.
She turned on her heel, marched into the briefing room, and slammed the door open. Amy looked up from her planner.
“They’re flirting again,” Rosa said. “Loudly. About Die Hard.”
Amy let out a strangled noise and flung her highlighter across the room. “That’s the third time this week!”
“I can’t take it anymore,” Boyle said, his voice cracking with emotion. “It’s like watching two golden retrievers discover love but never actually go for the tennis ball.”
Terry looked up from his yogurt. “They need a push.”
“No,” Holt said firmly from the doorway. “What they need is therapy. But I’ll settle for a strategic intervention.”
Rosa raised an eyebrow. “Sir?”
He sighed. “Mandatory team-building. Effective immediately.”
Amy clapped her hands. “I’ll make the schedule.”
“Operation: Just Kiss Already is a go,” Terry muttered.
Boyle was already crying.
-----
The next morning, you walked into the precinct, coffee in hand and zero suspicion in your heart. Jake appeared beside you like a particularly handsome ghost.
"Morning, partner," he said, stealing a sip of your drink without asking. You let him, as always.
“Morning, parasite.”
“Aw. You say the sweetest things.”
You were halfway through bickering over who would win in a fight between Bruce Willis and a sentient vending machine when Amy called out: “Everyone to the briefing room!”
Jake perked up. “Ooh, emergency? Murder? Vending machine uprising?”
“Worse,” Rosa muttered, brushing past. “Icebreakers.”
You shot Jake a look. “Should we run?”
“Too late.”
Inside the briefing room, Holt stood with a large poster behind him that read: TEAM-BUILDING WEEK: PRECINCT UNITY AND COHESION.
Boyle had decorated it with glitter pens.
Jake leaned toward you and whispered, “That poster feels like a trap.”
“You feel like a trap,” you muttered back.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Welcome,” Holt said, deadpan. “This week will consist of a series of exercises meant to bolster teamwork and deepen interpersonal bonds. Participation is mandatory. Complaining is futile.”
Terry stepped forward, clapping once. “We’re starting with a classic: Trust Falls.”
Jake groaned audibly. “Oh no. No, no, no. I have very little trust and a lot of fall-related trauma.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Amy chirped, already pairing everyone up. “You’re with Y/N.”
Jake turned to you, giving a mock-solemn nod. “If I die, avenge me.”
“Noted.”
You stood behind him, arms out. He looked over his shoulder suspiciously.
“You’re not gonna let me hit the ground just to prove a point, right?”
“Depends. Do you admit Die Hard 3 is superior?”
He gasped. “You would let me die.”
But he let himself fall anyway—and you caught him.
Jake blinked up at you from your arms. “Huh. I didn’t die. That’s kind of romantic.”
You laughed. “Don’t push it, Peralta.”
Across the room, Amy wrote something down in her binder and underlined it three times.
Boyle wiped away a tear. “They’re so beautiful.”
-----
The next activity was announced during lunch.
“Desert Island Scenarios,” Terry declared, holding up a laminated packet. “Each pair will be given a list of items and a survival scenario. Work together to decide what to keep, what to ditch, and how you’d make it off the island. It’s about problem-solving and cooperation.”
Jake immediately raised his hand. “Are we allowed to weaponize coconuts?”
“No,” Amy said flatly.
“Fine. Then I call dibs on building our shelter.” He nudged you. “You good with palm fronds?”
You smirked. “As long as I’m not the one weaving them.”
The two of you were given a scenario card that read: Shipwrecked on an uninhabited island. No rescue expected for two weeks.
Jake read aloud: “You may choose only five of the following ten items: a hatchet, a tarp, a fishing net, waterproof matches, a flare gun, a pot, a deck of cards, duct tape, a mirror, or a radio with no batteries.”
You both immediately said, “Matches.”
Jake beamed. “We’re so in sync.”
You rolled your eyes. “Calm down, coconut buddy.”
By the end of the exercise, you had drawn a map of your imaginary island, built a fantasy hut, and decided you’d survive by fishing, drinking boiled rainwater, and arguing over who got the hammock.
Jake looked disturbingly pleased with himself.
“Honestly?” he said, stretching his arms over his head. “I think we’d make a pretty great apocalypse duo.”
You didn’t say anything.
But you didn’t look away either.
Across the room, Rosa whispered, “They’re doomed.”
Boyle sobbed quietly into his lunch.
-----
“Next up,” Amy announced the following day, with barely restrained glee, “is the Compliment Gauntlet!”
Jake looked alarmed. “That sounds suspiciously emotional.”
“That’s because it is,” Amy said. “Each person will be tethered wrist-to-wrist to a partner while offering increasingly specific compliments. The rope only comes off when both people have given a compliment that makes the other physically blush.”
You stared at her. “What kind of twisted Hallmark-bootcamp is this?”
“Justice,” Rosa muttered. “Sweet, calculated justice.”
Jake grinned. “Well, looks like we’re stuck with each other. Again.”
“I’m starting to think that’s intentional.”
“You think?” he said, already extending his wrist toward you. “I’m shocked, truly.”
The rope was tied. Amy set a timer. “Begin.”
Jake smirked. “You have the best taste in snacks and the most expressive eye rolls I’ve ever seen.”
You blinked. “You remembered my snack order?”
“Down to the exact number of gummy bears.”
Your cheeks warmed. Damn it.
“Your hair looks really good today,” you said quickly, deflecting.
He tilted his head. “That’s cute, but not enough. We both know it.”
You exhaled. “You’re the most annoyingly observant, big-hearted disaster of a detective I’ve ever met, and it drives me insane in a way that’s... weirdly endearing.”
Jake blinked.
The tips of his ears turned red.
The rope fell to the ground with a dramatic snap.
Boyle audibly gasped.
Amy fist-pumped. “YES!"
Rosa nodded, satisfied. “Finally.”
Jake looked down at the rope, then at you. “So… we blushed.”
You stared back. “We did.”
His grin grew slow and dumb. “That means we’re... great at this.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Yet here you are.”
-----
The final activity arrived with all the subtlety of a bombshell.
“Tonight’s exercise,” Amy announced, trying not to visibly vibrate with excitement, “is called ‘The Trust Maze.’”
Jake squinted. “Is this about corn mazes? Because I got lost in one as a kid and accidentally joined another family.”
“No,” Amy said. “This is a communication challenge. One person wears a blindfold. The other gives verbal directions to guide them through an obstacle course set up in the evidence room. Minimal lighting. Maximum confusion. The only way out is teamwork.”
Jake turned to you, grinning. “So basically, I stumble around in the dark while you yell at me?”
“Pretty much,” you replied. “Sounds like a Tuesday.”
Boyle handed Jake a blindfold. “Godspeed, buddy.”
Moments later, Jake was standing at the starting line of a makeshift maze made of overturned chairs, file boxes, and caution tape, blindfold secured. The lights were dimmed.
“You ready, Y/N?” Terry called from the corner, stopwatch in hand.
“As I’ll ever be,” you muttered, stepping beside the tape.
“Go!”
“Okay,” you called. “Take two steps forward. No—your other forward. Right.”
Jake flailed and corrected himself. “You need to define directions better!”
“Maybe if you didn’t walk like a baby deer on ice!”
Laughter echoed from the bullpen.
“Turn left! Now duck—DUCK!”
Jake dropped to a crouch as a mop handle swung above his head.
“Holy crap,” he breathed. “You’re actually trying to kill me.”
“Only if you keep making Die Hard 2 references.”
He stumbled forward again, miraculously avoiding a stack of boxes. “You know, this would be a lot more romantic if I weren’t sweating profusely and fearing death.”
You hesitated for half a second, voice quieter now. “Romantic?”
Jake stopped. “Wait, did I say that out loud?”
You didn’t answer. He tugged the blindfold up just enough to peek at you.
The room fell quiet.
“I mean,” he started, his voice suddenly more genuine than it had been all week, “this whole thing’s kind of ridiculous, right? Everyone trying to make us figure out what we apparently can’t?”
You looked at him, soft and stunned. “You think we’re that oblivious?”
Jake smiled sheepishly. “I don’t know. Maybe. But I also know I like arguing with you. I like drinking your coffee. I like... the way you always catch me.”
Your heart was hammering.
“I like you,” he said. “A lot.”
You took a slow step forward until you were right in front of him. “Then maybe,” you murmured, reaching up to pull the blindfold fully off, “you should stop letting everyone else tell you when to do something about it.”
Jake’s breath hitched.
And then you kissed him.
The entire bullpen erupted.
“FINALLY!” Boyle screamed.
Amy high-fived Rosa. Holt closed his office door with a muttered, “About time.”
Terry just grinned and marked something off on a clipboard.
Jake pulled back slightly, dazed. “So... uh... do we win team-building week?”
You grinned. “We just might’ve broken the scoreboard.”
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bloomzone · 5 months ago
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📕 𝟓𝟎-𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞
March 1st ! If you’ve been slacking, if your study habits have been messy, or if finals are creeping up way too fast this is it. I did a 20-day productivity challenge before, but now, with finals staring me down and less than 90 days to go, I need to actually get my flip together.For the next 50 days, I’m locking in. This isn’t about aesthetic study sessions or fake productivity or like those 10s filming study routine 💁🏻‍♀️ . It’s about deep focus, real progress, and making sure you n i walk into finals prepared, not panicked.
before we start! what are the ..
🔴 Things You Need to Avoid
When you’re pushing yourself to study, it’s easy to fall into traps that make the process feel harder than it needs to be. One of the biggest things to avoid is procrastination. It’s tempting to delay tasks and distract yourself with less important things, but the truth is, the longer you wait, the more overwhelming it becomes. Putting things off only builds stress and leaves you with less time to focus on what truly matters.Another major pitfall is burnout. While it might feel like working non-stop is the key to success, the reality is that exhaustion doesn’t lead to productivity. If you push yourself too hard without breaks or balance, you’ll find your focus slipping, and your energy drained. Instead, aim for deep, focused study periods with scheduled rest to recharge. The key is working smart, not just hard.u also NEED to stay away from passive studying. Reading over your notes without actively engaging with the material might feel like you’re making progress, but it’s not enough. True learning happens when you interact with the content whether that’s through active recall, practicing problems, or teaching the concept to someone else. It’s about getting the information out of your head, not just in.And then there’s multitasking, which can be deceiving. You might think that juggling multiple tasks or subjects at once is a sign of productivity, but in reality, it dilutes your focus. Instead, concentrate on one subject at a time and give it your full attention. By focusing deeply, you’ll achieve better results in less time.Finally, avoid over-planning. It’s easy to get stuck in an endless loop of scheduling and rearranging without actually doing the work. While having a plan is crucial, it’s more important to take action. Don’t get paralyzed by perfection; start moving forward, and adapt as you go.
💡 What You Need to Succeed
Success in a challenge like this comes down to preparation, mindset, and consistency. First and foremost, you need to set yourself up for success by organizing everything you need. Having your books, notebooks, and study tools ready at your desk isn’t just about being prepared—it’s a psychological trigger that helps you get into the right mindset. When you see your space ready for work, it subconsciously tells your brain that it’s time to focus.But it’s not just about the materials. Your environment matters. A cluttered space can lead to a cluttered mind, so make sure you have a clean, quiet place to study. This is where you’ll spend most of your time, so make it a space that supports your work rather than distracts you. Even something as simple as proper lighting and a comfortable chair can make a huge difference in your ability to focus.It’s also essential to have the right tools. Flashcards, sticky notes, mind maps, or even physical planners whatever helps you engage with the material actively is what you should have at hand. You don’t need to follow a one-size-fits-all strategy, but it’s about finding what works best for you. What will make the material stick? What will make you more engaged and less likely to zone out?Consistency is key, too. This isn’t a sprint y'all u need to commit to a study schedule that’s manageable and realistic. Establish a routine that you can stick to every day thats what my teachers say everyday whether it’s an hour in the morning or a few hours in the evening. Building consistency will help you develop the discipline needed to push through tough moments, especially when motivation runs low.Finally, don’t forget about your energy. Sleep, food, and overall well-being are the foundation of any successful study routine. Without proper rest, your brain can’t absorb or retain information. Make sure you’re getting enough sleep to let your brain recharge and consolidate what you’ve learned. Likewise, pay attention to your body when you're well-rested and nourished, you’ll feel more alert, focused, and motivated. Let's cb !
📕 𝟓𝟎-𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚��𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧
( starting March 1 – May 9)
0️⃣1️⃣ Week 1: System Reset & Strategy (March 1-7)
🔹 List everything you need to study before finals.
🔹 Identify weak areas & high-priority topics.
🔹 Create an adaptable study plan (structured but flexible).
🔹 Set non-negotiable study hours per day (📚 2< hours).
🔹 Organize notes & resources so you’re not scrambling later.
🔹 Test different study environments & methods to maximize focus.
0️⃣2️⃣ Week 2: Deep Focus & Active Recall (March 8-14)
🔹 No passive studying (no just reading or highlighting).
🔹 Prioritize active recall (practice papers, Q&A, teaching concepts).
🔹 Use visual memory aids (mind maps, charts, bullet points).
🔹 Track distractions & eliminate what kills your focus.
🔹 Keep a focus log: What breaks your concentration? Fix it.
0️⃣3️⃣ Week 3: Technical Subjects and theory based subjects (March 15-21)
📜 Literature, history , philosophy... and theory-based subjects:
➖ Read critically, summarize, and debate ideas (not just memorize).
➖ Work on structured arguments & analysis for essays.
📈 Math ... problem-solving subjects:
➖ Use timed practice to simulate exam pressure.
➖ Write key formulas & rules on flashcards.
➖ Break down problems into step-by-step solutions.
🔹 Study difficult subjects when your energy is highest.
0️⃣4️⃣ Week 4: Writing & Expression (March 22-28)
🔹 Summarize topics in your own words every day.
🔹 Create one-page cheat sheets for major topics. (for revision nothing else 💁🏻‍♀️)
🔹 Write mock essays & structured answers (practice depth).
🔹 Focus on clarity & argument-building (make your writing strong).
🔹 Challenge: Can you explain this concept in 3 sentences?
0️⃣5️⃣ Week 5: Self-Testing & Performance Check (March 29-April 4)
🔹 Take full practice tests under exam conditions.
🔹 Time yourself: Work on speed & accuracy.
🔹 Identify weak spots and revisit them.
🔹 Grade your own work harshly—improve where needed.
🔹 Find patterns in mistakes and create strategies to fix them.
0️⃣6️⃣ Week 6: Memory & Retention (April 5-11)
🔹 Daily mini-revision of past weeks’ topics (keep everything fresh).
🔹 Use mnemonics, stories, & memory associations.
🔹 Sleep optimization for memory consolidation (good sleep = better recall).
🔹 Try retrieval practice before checking notes.
🔹 Apply concepts in real-life situations (where possible).
0️⃣7️⃣ Week 7: Peak Productivity & Stamina (April 12-18)
🔹 Push study hours (without burnout).
🔹 Use study sprints: 2-3 intense sessions per day.
🔹 Reduce fake productivity (low-value tasks don’t count).
🔹 Prioritize high-impact topics.
🔹 Simulate exam pressure—train yourself to think fast under stress.
0️⃣8️⃣ Week 8: Advanced Questioning & Strategy (April 19-25)
🔹 Study past exam patterns : what do they repeat?
🔹 Learn what examiners actually want in answers.
🔹 Debate answers with yourself or others (argue both sides).
🔹 Find alternative explanations for complex topics.
🔹 Challenge: What’s the hardest question you could get? Be ready.
0️⃣9️⃣ Week 9: Mastery & Confidence (April 26-May 2)
🔹 Final review: Focus only on weak spots.
🔹 80/20 Rule: What 20% of topics will help the most?
🔹 Do “last-minute style” studying—but without panic.
🔹 Take simulated exams with time limits (test performance).
🔹 Train your brain to stay confident under pressure.
🔟 Week 10: Exam-Specific Prep (May 3-May 9)
🔹 Prioritize final polishing, NOT cramming.
🔹 Review summaries, key formulas, & essay structures.
🔹 Optimize sleep & energy (don’t mess this up now).
🔹 Have a "cheat sheet" in your mind for each subject.
🔹 Last 3 days: Light review, no stress, trust your prep.
last tip !
There will be moments when u feel like giving up, when the material seems overwhelming or the effort too much. That’s when your mindset needs to kick in. The difference between success and failure isn’t about natural talent or born smart it’s about your ability to keep going when things get tough I'm talking about the material not burnout out .The truth is, hard work, perseverance, and adaptability are what lead to success not innate ability.Think of each week as a building block, each day as a step forward. Every time you study, you’re not just learning the material you’re evolving. You’re becoming more disciplined, more capable, and more confident. Even on the days when you feel like you’ve made little progress, remind yourself that you’re making small, consistent strides. These small changes compound over time
good luck !
@bloomzone
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pupslimes · 4 months ago
Note
cock warming charlie while hes editing and he tells you to get up because he needs to use the bathroom but you dont let him so he just. yknow. muehehahehaheuhahahehha
-totally not red definitely absolutely 100 percent not red yeah not me i mean red not red at all its not red im not red uhhmm anyways pisses everywhere
everyone say yippee for piss porn! i can't call this baby's first piss porn but it is baby's first charlie piss porn. so. wrote this in like an hour because the prompt went crazyyyyy thank you definitely not red. cw for like. the lightest dubcon. otherwise u know what ur getting urself into
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the rules of liquid and containers don't apply when the container is horny
You were roused from your half asleep state as Charlie groaned, his head knocking against the desk several times. "Babe. Holy fucking shit. I can't do this right now. I literally can't."
"Can you take a break?" You stretched your arms over your head, groaning quietly.
He sighed, slipping his head from his desk into his hands, groaning. "Noooooo. I have to stick to my stupid fucking upload schedule,"
"You made the upload schedule yourself right? Can't you just change the schedule?"
"This is my two million subscriber special, I have to put it out on time,"
"Can I help you? Is there anything I can do for you?" Charlie's eyes glinted slightly as they met yours.
"There is… uh… something you could do for me?" He gestured to his lap, cheeks flushing red. Charlie loved when you sat on his lap.
You smiled at him, sliding off the bed across the room and padding over to him, before slipping a leg over the chair, straddling his lap. You curled into his chest, burying your face in his neck. Your arms twined around his neck, and you cuddled into him. "Love you so much, baby,"
"Love you too, babe," he hummed into your ear. Soon enough, the clicking and occasional typing lulled you back into a drowsy, floaty space. Eventually, you felt his hips stirring beneath you, once, twice, three times.
"Char?" Your voice was thick with sleep.
"Sorry baby… ah…fuck," His hips snapped up against you, and you felt his hard cock graze against your clit.
"Ah!" You ground back down against him. When you were all hazy and tired like this, it was so much easier for him to turn you on, and he took advantage of it often. Especially on nights like these.
"Please? " He begged you, voice high and reedy. You untangled your fingers from around his neck, sliding your hands down his chest. He pressed a kiss into your forehead as your hands made his way to his waistband. Slipping down his boxers was easy, since he never wore anything else around the apartment when it was just the two of you.
He shifted his hips to help you pull them down, which only halfway helped. Making room for you to slip down his boxers was great, sure, but the fact that he basically rolled his hips into you as you were consistently getting more soaked? Not optimal. You fell into his chest after, a choked moan echoing in the small room. He let out a breathy laugh. "Sorry, darling,"
You groaned lightly, tapping the side of your fist against his collarbone like you were beating on him, before settling back into the warmth of your boy. "Wanna go back to sleep, honey?" His voice was silky smooth, wrapping into your already tired consciousness. You nodded slowly. Moving felt sticky now. He laughed again, just a tiny exhale against you. "Okay hun, lift your hips real quick," You made a confused noise, but complied easily. His hands immediately shot to your ass, helping lift you slightly. If he copped a feel while he did it, fingers massaging into your ass while gently spreading it open, it was something you could ignore.
What you couldn't ignore, though, was when the head of his cock pressed up against your hole. "Nnngh?" You were too tired to even form words at this point.
"Shhh, love," he began to press into you. "It's all going to be okay. Just let me… uhhh, ah!!… get inside and you can go back to sleep, yeah?" At your next sleepy nod, he pushed in further, slipping in with ease. "Fuck, you're wet. Sure you don't want me to just fuck you?" You giggled, shifting to get comfy, and he yelped before sighing down at you. A gentle slap landed on your ass as he settled back in. "Tease,"
It wasn't too often you cockwarmed Charlie. It had basically become a last resort for him when video editing was going awfully, and he used the privilege of it sparingly. It was important to him you knew he wasn't just using you as a sex toy, not that you really would have minded. But Charlie loved and cared about you enough that you let him get flushed and nervous about it every time he asked, reassured him through it that you loved him. Which was why today was so unique. As much as you wanted to be there for him, your exhausted mind just couldn't stay up this time. The warmth of his skin through his shirt felt like it seeped into your bones, and your fingers slowly stopped tracing patterns on his back and shoulders, and you slipped into the rest of your nap from earlier.
You awoke to uncomfortable shifting and the bounce of a leg, not enough to move the cock inside you, but enough to shake you. It wouldn't have mattered if he was moving anyways. Charlie had gone soft in the time it took him to edit the video. Your eyes fluttered open as you took in all the sensations flooding you as you made your way out from dreamland. "Mmmmmm," was all you could manage.
His eyes flicked down. "Oh! Hi baby," He seemed distracted and uncomfortable, and you immediately tried to rectify it with a kiss to his jawline. He relaxed a tiny fraction, but it didn't seem to be enough.
"You finish editing, Char?"
"Almost baby. But uh… I have to go,"
"Go where?" The confusion overtook you, bringing with it a light panic at the thought of moving from where you were. You were far too comfortable to move, and still so, so sleepy.
"Oh, no baby it's okay!" His hands rushed to your sides, petting gently. "I just mean to the bathroom,"
Oh. Okay. Well, that was better than whatever you were imagining. But still, you just felt so nice…
"No," You wrapped your arms back around his neck.
"Sweetheart, what do you mean no?" His voice held a stressed lilt.
"Too comfy," You wiggled your hips, settling in again.
Charlie groaned at the pressure you were now putting on his bladder. "Baby. I really gotta go,"
"Ten more minutes?" you pleaded.
"Baby, I'm not gonna make it ten minutes. I'm not gonna make it ten… ah! fuck!!…"
And that's when you felt it, a spurt of boiling hot liquid splashing inside of you. Oh shit.
"Sorry! Fuck I'm so sorry I'm so so sorry," Charlie groaned out. You felt every muscle in his body tense, and he leaned over you. It didn't stop though. In fact, it only seemed to make it worse. Piss flowed into you, feeling like Charlie was cumming, filling you up, but it didn't stop. You felt yourself filling up further and further, stomach starting to gently distend with the sheer amount. Fuck… how long had be been holding it? You found yourself not particularly…disliking the experience.
Soon, of course, you reached full. But that didn't mean that Charlie was done. Absolutely not. His stuttered apologies turned into gasps and groans, his hands digging into where they lay at your sides. It seemed like he was still trying to push out apologies, to push you off almost, although that wouldn't have helped anyone here. You pushed back into him. And that's when you felt something else.
The piss dripped out of you, running first directly onto Charlie's lap where you were sitting, soaking into his boxers. You were sitting in what was basically a puddle of Charlie's piss. The thin, flimsy fabric though, could only keep up for so long. The puddle grew underneath you, liquid pushing up against you. Piss ran over your clit, over your ass, over every sensitive spot between, and you couldn't help but moan at the sensation. You couldn't contain it any longer. It spilled out between the two of you, and you could hear it fucking dripping onto Charlie's desk mat below you. The sound made you clench, which only, obviously, squeezed out more piss.
Lost in the feelings, and Charlie's whimpered half apologies fading into the background, you lifted your hips, the result exactly what you were looking for. The piss inside you flowed out faster, and the drops on the mat turned into splashes. You felt the blood drain out of your head with excitement, cunt pounding with your pulse, clenching around Charlie's still soft cock. Settling back down, you tried to pull yourself together, chest heaving. It was hard, trying to calm yourself while looking down at the man under you. He was bright red and panting, piss having crept its way from your pussy to his shirt, staining the hem of it dark.
"Baby?" he called. Your hands played with the wet hem, unable to meet his eyes. "Baby, I'm so fucking sorry," His cock twitched in you. Fucking caught. You met his eyes.
"I don't think you are,"
Charlie somehow blushed redder, stammering out disjointed sentences while you felt him getting harder inside you. You took a huge chance and covered his mouth, dragging the edge of his shirt into your own. You closed your lips over the fabric and sucked, the unmistakable flavor of Charlie flooding your mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head, and his cock basically sprang to life inside you. Best chance you ever took.
Ripping the shirt out and twisting it in your hand to pull him in, you took your hand off his mouth. Your gazes met again as he choked off a moan. "Charlie,"
"Yeah?"
"If you don't fuck me right now, I'll kill you,"
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bonbonly · 7 months ago
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Wait because why do I need to hear more about college lando like I feel like he would be into corrupting his innocent friend IDK MAYBE IM JUST SELF PROJECTING AT THIS POINT
Sorry if this didn’t make sense bonbon I’m running off like an hour of sleep 😭
-🎃
no no dont apologize! 🎃 anon you are onto something here ok
bon's thoughts (18+)
collegeau!lando. ok im writing this and had like the filthiest thought come into my mind oh my goddd but i can see you being top of the class, sitting in the front and answering all the questions in class. lando's sitting in the back, sleeping most of the time but there's rare occasions when you drag him to the front and he watches you raise your hand and ask questions that impresses the professors. he's a bit jealous, but then realizes that instead of trying to be like you, why couldn't you be more like him?
you're so innocent and sweet, it all comes to plan when he invites you to the library late at night. you never went to the library at night, only the morning because you always rambled on about how 8 hours of sleep was required for a good day. he reasons that its a friday night, it's ok and that was the only reason you show up in the private study room. you open the door and see him stroking his cock, eyes glued on his laptop as he's taking notes.
"lando?" you frown, eyes traveling to his hard cock. he waves at you, greeting you with a smile, though you can't seem to understand what he's doing, "lando what's going on?"
"oh, this? this helps me study!" he smiles, going back to stroking his cock as he's reading the notes you sent him earlier in the day. you frown,
"really? i know almost every study technique, i-i've never heard of this," you reply, tilting your head to get a better look at him.
"that's because only i use this technique, i found it out one day but i can't seem to perfect it. i just... i just think im not good at it. could you help me out?" lando asks, and you nod your head. you'd do anything to help your friend!
he directs you to your knees, and has you under the table. he's this close to giggling, he can't believe how innocent you are... how stupid you could be to let him do this to you! this is so much fun to him, and he presses his thumb into your mouth, opening it gently before guiding you down on his cock. he nearly cums right there, your mouth feels like heaven. he's having you suck his cock the whole night, your throat is covered in just his cum and when it's around 5 am, you're whining about how he ruined your sleep schedule.
"but you helped me study!" he exclaims and you shrug your shoulders,
"I guess so... as long as it helps you to study."
and so for the rest of the semester (and maybe for the rest of your years at uni) every friday night consists of you sucking on lando's cock, he even goes so far as to have your pussy wrapped around him as he's fucking into you like a madman, refusing to elaborate how exactly this benefitted his studying but you're very thankful that his grades are improving, somehow.
you're still top of the class, don't worry about that, lando would never ruin your education like that. but it was really funny to see you sitting in the front row with his cum dripping down your thighs, cock drunk to the max because now you're insisting you can only study with his cock stuffed inside your cunt.
that's a win for him.
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