#literally nothing was less surprising to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

curiousorigins · 2 days ago

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Yeah, I had this whole period of a few years where I was working a near full time retail job, going to college (over full time via credit hours) and commuting around an hour-2 hours each way depending on when in that period and if I happened to get my favorite bus driver. (he shaved a full 20-40 minutes off of my 2 transfers commute.) Pretty much I had time for nothing especially when you factored in that I get motion sick, so I couldn't manage to do homework on the bus (I could at best manage audio language tapes... as that talk to text stuff was bad then and I have audio processing issues) and I wasn't sleeping well. (I've fallen asleep in a moving vehicle twice in my life for longer than 2 minutes. Once after a full 2 weeks of not sleeping for about 5 minutes (according to friend who was driving) and another on the bus during this period. And yes I was awoken because the bus returned to the bus service garage.) and had to actively play rock music (complete with an audio effects CD on shuffle which was the surprising boon to my playlists. I will never create a Mix CD/Playlist without random animal noises and sirens again.) in order to prevent myself from falling asleep in public and leaving my body to the whims of strangers around me.

So funny thing about this period of my life... whether due to the lack of calories. (no required meal plan as part of tuition as I was commuting to school and thus college not obligated to prevent student starvation. However it was a community college and thus real awesome at providing free food opportunities to those willing to follow their nose/rumors of free food with enough free time between classes to indulge.) lack of sleep, financial stress (I mostly save a few minor grants self-funded my schooling... ending with less than $1,500 debt my final semester despite going to college in the U.S. [highly recommend community colleges. However don't do this. I almost died so many times. I got an ulcer that led to 2 weeks of internal bleeding and missed 2 weeks of work and like 10 years+ fearing many foods. Getting a loan in this case would have been smarter. Yes even with how student loans are.] my grades also couldn't keep up and I lost any academic related funding as well. Including eventually the student loans. I pretty much had a major mental health crisis on top of very horrible health crisises... that for a period at up approximately 6 hours of my none-free-time but actual doing homework/studying/relaxing [If I ever had a chance] time. Don't do it.

Anyways I learned to eat one handed. We were raised in a set the table and use utensils with the proper hand etc household... so yeah for me this was a college-age learned skill. I learned to scarf down (already had to a degree. God bless ovrcrowded public schools where) ANYTHING in less than 10 minutes provided I was hungry enough. To eat (sort of neatly) when walking. To chug 44oz of water etc in about 5 minutes. (My job consisted of unloading trucks in lack of climate control in near one of the hottest places on earth for 3 months of the year. Funny thing, also near the coldest for near the same period of time annually. And I was always at risk of passing out from dehydration. I literally hardly peed during this period because I was sweating enough to keep up with the minimal gallon of water/sport's drink etc I was drinking per day.)

I also had started getting into art and social media. (I actually briefly was making minor waves.) and the only time I had to draw consisted of my breaks and meal breaks at work (because again I got motion sick in moving vehicles). I was drawing, inking, and painting in watercolor 25 days a month, completing an average of 25-40 paintings during that month. Work was the main area where I had wiggle room to socialize, so I was often, drawing/painting in the breakroom while stuffing my face with as many calories as possible (I was unloading trucks and at the height of my families' weirdly high metabolism) while talking. So I was penciling/drawing/finalizing an average of 10-15 minutes (while eating), inking in 5-10 minutes and painting in 15-25 minutes/day. (While eating). Oh and because there literally wasn't a schedule where I could possibly eat a meal at home 5-6 days/week; I also developed absolute zero shame to munching whereever I was, no matter what was going on (though little kid me was ahead of the curve because PBS used to broadcast surgeries on Sundays and I was fascinated. And would have my lunch/dinner watching them and only once they were wiggling around intestines while I was eating spaghetti and had a bad brain sensory visual textural experience. Otherwise I was good to go.) [as an aside, this includes that poor person who was 'pregnant' for a few decades, via the rare ectopic pregnancy that doesn't cause a patient to go septic, who's surgery ended up being broadcast on PBS for some reason... I would assume exploitation to pay for the surgery itself. That's called

(Trigger warning for link above: Many examples of very late term incomplete pregnancies that are identifiably human fetuses that are not compatible with life. Stopped living often decades before they might have been born had the embroyos implanted elsewhere. Frozen in gestation. Images within that could be disturbing to those mourning a miscarriage, actively pregnant, suffering infertility issues etc. Please do use your best judgement and do not click the link above if you're not in a place where one could take their time, energy etc to emotionally deal with such a disturbance.)

But yeah I can eat in pretty any condition. Not super cleanly... mostly because I don't care. My Dad hates going out to eat with me and has to remind me that I won't have successful dates (while I'm not interested in dating anyone) because of how I eat. While I say, "Might as well eat like a pig on the first date, not that there will be dates. Because this how I eat. If they can't stomach it. Then I'm saving us both some hassle." And quickly too. I can't manage to hold my breath while swimming/diving or do that weird pushing breath out to prevent water in your nose thing. But I can breath while I'm actively drinking and eating. I can also eat while talking while not telegraphing that I have food in my mouth via sound or sight.

Those are just some of the few unintended skills I ended up developing, perfecting out of genuine necessity and survival. And no, I don't ever want to live like that again. I respect myself too much to out myself through it. Of course when I decided I'd take commissions at conventions while selling my art, these are skills that I started to purposefully develop.

Jobs don’t always limit the skills you learn to the job itself. For instance, when I worked at Red Robin, they’d offer 30 minutes for an unpaid lunch, or 15 if you wanted to get paid the whole time. If you think that’s extremely shitty join the club.

As a result of wanting money I got really good at eating quickly so I could use my break to read or relax. I’ve always been a fast eater but when I worked there I learned how to eat an entire burger and fries in under five minute while keeping up a conversation. This is not advisable for good digestion, eat slow and chew your food.

There’s a balance to not talking with your mouth full and eating extremely quickly and it was a regularly used skill for years. When I worked at a sex shop I bragged about it once to a coworker.

She watched me with a timer going after I told her about it and we got burgers. I chatted with her the whole time. I was done in four minutes forty seconds.

Afterward she looked haunted and commented, “It was like watching a snake unhinge it’s jaw but you never talked with food in your mouth!”

More recently my beloved and I were catching up with a friend over lunch. I had a sandwich while they’d gotten falafel plates. We were having a lovely chat but after I finished a story our friend said, “I don’t want your food to go cold while you talk!”

I was surprised. I’d been deliberately talking more so she could eat. I turned to show her my empty sandwich box. Both she and my beloved were stunned. It was like I’d performed a magic trick and made my sandwich disappear because neither had even noticed me demolishing it like a snake unhinging it’s jaw.

#tw capitalism #tw work horror #(and it's all true sadly.)#tw body horror #tw pregnancy #tw miscarriage related #tw infertility related #tw medical #tw medical situation #tw white colonialism based exploitation via potential exchanging of money via desperate person needing medical care #worker's rights #skills #how I got into art professionally #because I really really needed an outlet #work stories #I have so many #One of these days I may make a zine

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thrumbolt · 1 year ago

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Sometimes I forget why exactly I disliked ACOMAF as much as I did and then I see a random quote and am instantly reminded.

This is exactly the type of gaslighting that this book does that annoyed me so. fucking. badly.

'All he'd wanted to do wasn't free me, but fuck me' - ah yes, because it totally wasn't her who went for his pants first.

'He hadn't tried to kill her, hadn't crawled for me'

Excuse me? He crawled as he was bleeding out from a chest wound, still tied up. Not to mention he DID kill Amarantha in the end. (Also he couldn't kill her before, because that's how magic bonds work - none of the high lords could lift a finger against her. There was literally nothing he was able to do).

Also it makes no SENSE for Feyre to be resentful of Tamlin not rescuing her all of a sudden? Tamlin saved her already by returning her to the human realm. SHE returned to fight and die for him. She KNEW she'd most likely die but she was there to rescue HIM. It's not like she got kidnapped by Amarantha and he just watched, no she came to die for him. It's kind of weird to blame him for not getting her out when she came in to get HIM out.

So yeah, ACOMAF is awful in this regard and I just don't get it. It would have been quite easy and possible to make Feyre realize that Tamlin isn't right for her without literally making shit up about him that conflicts with book one.

#just a random thrum rant again #also lol the double standard #'I was doing those trials and tamlin did nothing to protect me i hate it'#'As soon as he got his powers back he tried to protect me with everything so I would never have to face such dangers again i hate it'#MAKE UP UR MIND FEYRE #but like ugh....i think its literally just that way to make Feyre seem less of a bitch for switching boyfriends so quickly #i am just surprised most people dont seem to mind this manipulative writing?#or however you want to call it #gha #acotar #tamlin

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violentlydefending · 4 months ago

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genuinely always so shocked to see mirei hate. like literally god forbid women do anything.

#contra.txt #y5 haters in general... does playable haruka mean nothing to you...#DOES SHINADA TATSUO MEAN NOTHING TO YOU...#for legal reasons this is a joke people are allowed to feel however they want about whatever it's just viddy games #and i fully acknowledge y5 and its litany of flaws #of which there are certainly enough for any given individual to justifiably dislike/hate its entirety but I AM A Y5 LOVER THRU AND THRU #saejima's arc is just an arguably less interesting rehash of the one he had in 4?#(jail; jailbreak; betrayed by his lil buddy guy #but now we're sans the interesting character stuff of his feelings regarding the hit. & also i miss his hair.#& that's not even to say i think saejima is boring in y5 i think there's some interesting subtext to take away from his character #unique to this entry but it's pretty hard to deny how much is literally just y4 again but now he's bald)#BUT WHO GAFS he got buffed to hell gameplay-wise and punches bears now #and also baba's a great character and he doesn't have to do a whole chase minigame if a cop sees him anymore #bloated/unfocused feeling in general to the game?#WELL THAT'S JUST MORE CONTENT BABY!!! only a real issue if you're a completionist imo #+ are u telling me you don't wanna drive a taxi? u don't wanna play a video game in which the goal is to drive as normally as possible?#and i loveeeee multiple protagonists yay <3 y0 y4 and y5 are my favs so far lol (up to y6)#kiryu's inclusion in y5 also feels way more justified than in y4. he was so tacked on there i'm trying to remember what he even really did #other than tiger dropping as a boss fight before instantly forgetting how to tiger drop the second he became playable #and losing track of yasuko and getting tag-teamed by akiyama and tanimura (cough) and beating up daigo #but in exchange akiyama becomes the protag that feels kinda tacked on in y5. way less so than kiryu in y4 tho for sure #anyway. weird/strangely justified plot beats? WELL THAT'S JUST EVERY YAKUZA GAME #an arguably strange/poor writing choice for majima especially given how he ended up being written in y0?#well honestly other than the age thing i think it makes him more interesting... he's kinda fucked up!#but i do get why people are /really/ not a fan of it. ik i just said i think it makes him more interesting but if it gets retconned #or even just never mentioned again i wouldn't be surprised tbh #but additionally he's not even a major character in y5 so it feels like it's not really a significant complaint imo #anyway anyone can do this ('this' being acknowledging the flaws of a thing and then letting how much they otherwise enjoy #said thing determine how much they let said flaws influence their overall opinion) ...such is the beauty of subjectivity... i love you.#yakuza

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inkblackfingers · 1 year ago

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"Average author creates 3 languages per story" factoid actually just statistical error. Average author creates 0 languages.

Linguistics professor Jirt, who lives in Oxford and creates 10,000 each day is an outlier adn should not be counted.

One of the ballsiest things Tolkien ever did was write 473k words about some hobbits called frodo, sam, merry, and pippin and then write in the appendices that their names are actually maura, ban, kali, and razal.

#tolkien #i was looking through his history and his first civilian job after ww1 was at the #oxford english dictionary #literally nothing was less surprising to me

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kittykatkatelol · 4 months ago

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im doomed oml /hj

#tomorrow history is making me write about my beliefs and how they impact my daily life and shit #uh my beliefs literally change nothing of my daily life #and how am I to explain that hmm I believe in the fucking greek gods and satan and that's what my belief system revolves around but also i #literally couldn't give any less shits on how the earth was made I really dont care #+ i have the strong belief that there is infinite realities and that death is going to be whatever it is we believe will happen #(i know I'm to be recarnated but my mom will go to heaven as that is what we both believe strongest in afterlife)#anyone wanna bet that I just leave the whole thing blank and just lie until I'm out of the mess lol #my history coarse is biblical based and surprise surprise I don't worship god - I only believe in him since I'm a literal demon who #knew the guy and kind of literally fought his angels-#my beliefs truly don't really impact my day to day like this book wants me to write about #all /srs

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britneyshakespeare · 1 year ago

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This is just a map of New England (minus Connecticut the fake New England state)

#text post #new england #source: boston 25 news website: believe it or not massachusetts is not the most irish state new study finds #18.9% of mass residents have irish ancestry #really this is not surprising at all. massachusetts is the most population-dense state by far with the most immigrants #and new hampshire? ask anyone where their family lived before they came to new hampshire. it was massachusetts #new hampshire is full of ethnically irish and italian and polish catholics whose families have been here long enough #to assimilate and move to the suburbs and become xenophobic and anti-immigrant.#literally bothers me so much when ppl named molly o'flannigan and patrick sullivan talk shit about dorchester lawrence etc #and other immigrant-dense areas in new england. i'm like baby your grandparents lived there #well or at least that's my experience #new england still does have a shocking amount of wasps whose families have been here since the fuckin mayflower #i dont have a direct link to that in my own family but it's very strange how that is taught to new england children as like #'our' heritage in schools. plymouth plantation and the puritans and all that. you're weirdly made to identify w it #and like as time goes on #just factually that only represents the population of ppl who live and are raised here less and less.#not to mention it does nothing to address DIVERSITY in the area. but i suppose there's like a local mythos #we have to teach a story to children and it has to be a 'we' story and that story has to be pilgrims #bc the story has to start at colonization and not expand after that. thats too complex. happy thanksgiving?#new england white people have a habit of thinking theyre irish catholic anglo-protestant settlers and they built this country #they dont parse out their own identity at all and they certainly don't want to have to consider other ppl's.#wow i didnt mean this to turn into a culture-critical rant im sure most of my followers arent even from here so idk what this means 2 u guy #happy saint patrick's day!

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softshuji · 1 year ago

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y'know it's a night when hal sits and eats cereal in the dark room at 1.30am.

#i was thinking abt it earlier #but i've been crying so much lately like so much. almost every second day if not every day and i dont know why #actually i do kinda know why.#i think im hitting my limit with a lot of things and one of them is my parent dumping their problems on me #earlier today my mom told me again abt the whole debacle with my dad cheating on her multiple times and everyone knows i find this subject #too much for me i dont tlike to think about it or anything and im so tired of hearing it and especially when i lived through it trust me i #was literally there the whole cheating subject is very raw to me for many reasons and im just tired of being the emotional dump so often #especially because she always comes to me for everything all the time and im so sos tire d #everyone always tells me i should consider my own needs as a person and its okay to have them and yk in theory i agree with this but i just #cant. i grew up not having any needs met so how can i let myself have them now it makes me feel absolutely awful with myself to even #consider having to ask for something off someone and yet i know how wrong this is iknow needa and desires and wants are natural #but mine have always been on the back burner for everyone else. so its' no surprise ive let myself think im something to be used for other #peoples sake. whether that be physically or emotionally and especially the latter. because thats how i see myself someitmes. something #something to make people feel betetr about themselves that has no use outside of how i make them feel - just something to use until they #move onto the next best thing. something more entertaining and better value whatever that might mean something with less feelings less #sensitive. it feels like sometimes thats what i am. the indestructible never breaking hal that somehow has a solution to everything and can #always be there to fix every issue and is there to make people feel better but needs nothing in response #and god it really does feel like my problems dont mean anything to anyone #it does feel like no one thinks theyre worth anything #not worth listening to not worth thr same attention etcetc and yknow what i hate hate hate asking for attention and yet i get upset when i #feel like im not actually being heard or listened to #and i find it happens so often. sometimes i wanna hear it just once for once i wanna hear 'hey its okay to be upset i wish i could hug you'#or something like that god i dont want to be strong and nursing my wounds in private anymore #god i want a hug so bad and someone to just let me cry on them just once i want to be held and told someones got me instead of me doing it #for everyone else all the time #is thisselfish? it feels selfish to say #this is why it affects me so deeply whenever anyone does validate me or tells me its ok to want things or that im loved or anything nice #god i cant handle niceness at all it feels like it knocks me so bad it takes me ages to recover #and yet somehow all i can tell myself is that theyre only saying nice things because theyre being obligated to and not becayuse they feel #like they actually like me

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playingonedchess · 4 months ago

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genuinly dont think ive ever met anyone else more obsessed with the sound of their own voice than myself

#this blog is all the evidence you need #and itll literally be the most boring pointless meaningless things but if its me talking about it ill do it for hours #maybe i should be a writer huh #only problem is of course just cause im obsessed with the sound of my voice doesnt mean anyone else is #hmm maybe a public speaker then so they cant escape #if a drink a couple of litres of coffee pled a vodka or so then maybe id even be able to pull it off #or a uni lecturer maybe #reminds me like when its a class at uni i actuallly have something to say in or just find interesting #then ill always be wanting to contribute even if someone elses speaking and i have literally nothing valuable to add at all #and then sometimes ill put my hand up and start saying something and realise i have absolutely nothing worthwile saying in a university #setting and ill look like an idiot and be horribly embarrassed #surprising enough i put my hand up at all since usually i can barely speak but drinking coffee makes me want to more #and the seminar setting is less awkward cause youre meant to so its not like going up to someone who almost definitely wants nothing to do #with me or something and like even if someone talks to me i usually cant think in the moment and say something so stupid #or such a stupid variant of nothing at all that that person never bothers to speak to me again #and this isnt just me being dramatic or anything i mean this completely literally i have empirical evidence of this happening almost #every time #i mean yeah no one talks to me cause i dont make the effort but i literally cant bbecause my brain and other people are literally #incapable of e isting in the same room at the same time #and the only way of fixing this us by speaking to more people til i get used to it and the only way of doing that id to be capable of #speaking to people in the first place which i cant do #stupid bloody checkmate unsolvable paradox

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norrisainz33 · 4 months ago

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beauty and brains || cs55

☆ summary: carlos’ long term partner is an engineering student, victoria’s secret model and all around fam favorite. him and a few others surprise her ahead of the singapore gp!

☆ pairing: carlos sainz x model!student!reader

☆ fc & warnings: kelsey merritt & none

☆ requested: yes!! thank you sm for the request and for your patience🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

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user1: beauty and brains fr

user2: you are everything

yourbff: i can’t even imagine the stress of exams and the show

ynuser: i am so stressed but we shall persevere 😭 last time i ever have to do this!!

yourbff: you have GOT THIS GIRL! you gonna be a graduate so SOON!!!!!

ynuser: going to need some drinks after this is all over

yourbff: say less baby

carlossainz55: my gorgeous girl i can’t wait to see you 🤍

ynuser: i can’t wait to see you in singapore mi amor 🤍

carlossainz55: counting down the minutes. i am so incredibly proud of you

ynuser: 🥹🥹🥹🥹 don’t make me cry carlos

alexandrasaintmleux: you’re going to crush these exams mon ami

ynuser: thank you best friend 😘

user3: vs fashion show?! that is huge! im so proud of you 😭

user4: omg i’m going to the singapore gp too!!! i hope i see you

user5: you are the blueprint

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[i am so proud of you my love. the sky is the limit and this only the beginning]

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user3: YAYYYY CONGRATS TO OUR FAVORITE PRINCESS

user5: how she managed to get a degree and be a full time model at the same time is so impressive

landonorris: yessssss that’s our girl let’s gooooooo

carlossainz55: could not be more proud!

landonorris: i am having the hardest time keeping my mouth shut abt the fact that we’re going to her show. she keeps talking about how much she misses you and all of us

carlossainz55: if you tell her i’ll drive you straight off track in singapore

landonorris: understood

user6: carlos are you going to the vs show??????

ynuser: i love you so much 😭 thank you for the flowers, im so glad to have gotten them this morning. i wish you could be here!

carlossainz55: it is the least i could do!! i love you more than words could express. i’ll see you soon 🤍

lilymhe: you should’ve gotten her more flowers

carlossainz55: 100 roses is not enough?

lilymhe: nothing is enough when you’re dating the most perfect woman in the world

carlossainz55: i suppose you got me there

scuderiaferrari: we are so proud of y/n!!

user8: begging to know if you’re going to make an appearance at the victoria secret fashion show king

user10: simp ☝🏻

user11: you’ve moved me with this carlos

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ynuser: new york city - it’s time 🪽

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user6: ahhhhh it’s vs time!!!

user8: gUYS is carlos going to be there to support her 😭

user12: i feel like no bc singapore is right around the corner

user8: ugh yeah true but this is so important and he already missed graduation 😭

user12: ik!!! crossing fingers he can make it

user10: the footballers in her likes lol

carmenmundt: so effortlessly beautiful

ynuser: that’s you carmen 😘

carlossainz55: that’s MY girl

ynuser: yes it is 🤍

user9: i’m literally so excited to watch the show later

victoriassecret: can’t wait to see you later y/n 🩷

yourbff: so glad to be here with you 🫶🏻

ynuser: you’re my rock

oscarpiastri: time to shine

ynuser: 💎

user10: that’s our engineering graduate!!! look at her go!!!

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f1gossip: 🚨 breaking: carlos sainz, lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell, carmen mundt, and alexandra saint mleux have all been spotted arriving at the victoria’s secret fashion show in support of y/n y/l/n who will be walking in the show tonight

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user12: user8 he’s there 🥹

user8: i fully screamed this news made me so happy

user12: we love to see the support 😭

user15: no bc i’m about to cry. what do you mean all of them flew out to new york when they’re supposed to be in singapore in 3 days to support their girl y/n/n?????

user22: no because they clearly love her so much im sick

user16: this is an elite pull by y/n

user4: this is everything to me i hope you understand

user19: praying this brings good karma to carlos in singapore

user18: y/n is so loved

user8: she really is 😭

user5: things i will never shut up about: this

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lando.jpg: even though carlos told me to close my eyes more times than i could count at the show, i wouldn’t have wanted to spend 24 hours in nyc with anyone else. congrats to y/n - we all love you muppet

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user3: he revived lando.jpg to congratulate his friend this is so sweet

user55: CARLOS TOLD ME TO CLOSE MY EYES IM CRACKING UP

carlossainz55: thanks for coming with me mate! and yes don’t look at my girlfriend

lando.jpg: my bad mate! i forgot i went to the fashion show to not look at any of the fashion

ynuser: carlos 🙄

carlossainz55: 🤭

user9: who is gonna tell carlos that his girl is a model and it’s literally her job to be looked at in crying

ynuser: landito!!!! i can’t express how happy i was to see you all there. thank you for coming my sweet sweet bestie

lando.jpg: y/n/nito!!!! ofc always happy to support you

user8: the way carlando and y/ncarlando are so close is so incredibly important to me

user43: the second pic of y/n and carlos just called me single in 55 different languages

lando.jpg: same

user43: LANDO

oscarpiastri: lily and i wish we could have been there!!! still so proud of you ynuser

ynuser: you were there in spirit, i felt it

use13: i’m not gonna be normal abt this, sorry in advance everyone

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ynuser: last night was unreal, a total dream come true. ever since i started modeling it was a dream of mine to walk in the victoria’s secret fashion show and i did it!! but what made the night even sweeter was all the amazing people who came to support me. to my carlos, thank you for making that happen 🤍 see you all in singapore!! i need a nap 😴

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user2: you were radiant

user5: the peoples princess fr

carlossainz55: anything for you mi angel

ynuser: i’m the luckiest girl in the world

carmenmundt: i’m so glad i got to be there!!! you are a STAR

georgerussell63: what carmen said!

ynuser: thank you carmen and georgie!! i love you both 🫶🏻

alexandrasaintmleux: proud is an understatement

ynuser: 🥹 i’m so thankful for you

user7: she is the moment

user10: i hope you get the best sleep of your life on that trip to singapore

sabrinacarpenter: gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous

ynuser: 🤍

user9: i’m going to miss you when i scroll

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user3: you need a rest ms girl idk how you’re still standing after exams and the vs show and now traveling to singapore

lilymhe: yayyy lemme come find you

ynuser: yesss please!!! i’m with carmen and alex

lilymhe: yay yay yay yay

user6: praying you bring him good luck today! i am SICK of the dutch national anthem

yourbff: did you sleep the whole flight?

ynuser: omg yes thank GOD. pays to have a bf with a private jet

yourbff; GOOD you needed that

lilyzneimer: i’m so glad you’re here with us 🫶🏻 i missed you

ynuser: i missed you more lils

lilyzneimer: truly not possible

user5: i’m here too!!! hoping to see you ms queen

user9: thank god you’re back in the paddock i missed seeing pics of you there

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ynuser: carlos sainz!!! el matador!!!!! oh my god i am speechless!! you did that baby 🤍

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user55: CARLOOOOSSSSSSSS

user6: carlos sainz winner of the singapore gp!!!! breaker of the mv win streak!!!

user8: tell me you all saw the clip of her crying while watching him on the podium

user2: might have been the cutest thing i’d ever seen

user8: i hope a love like that finds me

carlossainz55: you brought me some luck mi princessa 🤍

ynuser: no luck needed with a drive like that 😍

landonorris: i made the photo dump 🥹

ynuser: of course you did mr podium man

user9: carlando podium is so important to me

yourbff: congrats carlos!!! truly amazing stuff from you

carlossainz55: gracias y/bff

scuderiaferrari: ❤️❤️❤️

user11: i never thought i would care so much about vroom vroom cars but y/n you have shown me the light

user10: oh i love you two so much

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated. i do be slow af on here with these requests,, my apologies y’all

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

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babyleostuff · 6 months ago

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𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞

𝜗𝜚 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄: fluff, established relationship 𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: idol!hoshi x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 565

⦗💌 ⦘ it's no secret that the kwon siblings love to tease each other. but what happens when you come into play?

“stop touching my food!” soonyoung whined, as his sister quickly stole another piece of meat from his plate, giggling quietly. that had to be the third time she did that in the last five minutes, and hoshi was having none of that. “told you you shouldn’t have ordered that salad,” he muttered, looking at the last pieces of his favourite food on the nearly empty plate.

“children, could you stop fighting for once and let us eat in peace?” his father chimed in. “we can’t take you out anywhere.”

you, on the other hand, were too focused on your own food to notice the bickering that was happening right next to you. your day had been long and tiring, and this had to be your first meal of the day, so no one was really surprised that you were kind of in your own world at the moment. besides, at this point you were so used to the kwon siblings teasing each other that you stopped paying much attention to it.

“it’s not my fault he’s being a chil- hey! why does she get to steal your food?” soonyoung’s sister asked indignantly, pointing her finger at you. “why are you not yelling at her, huh?”

you quickly stopped in your tracks with your fork between yours and hoshi's plate with the last piece of his meat on it, and you could feel everyone's eyes on you without having to look up. “huh? what’s going on?” you asked, confused. sharing food in your relationship was normal, to be honest - you never fully ate whatever you ordered, you always shared it between each other, so why did you feel like you just committed a crime?

“maybe because she’s my girlfriend, you moron,” soonyoung snickered, and moved his arm from the back of your chair to lay his hand on your thigh. “eat up, baby. don’t worry about her,” he said, and pecked your temple.

his sister laughed bitterly, and set her fork down, clearly annoyed. “don’t worry about her? remember who’s the oldest here, kwon soonyoung.”

your eyes wandered between the two with amusement, as you munched on the meat you just stole from soonyoung. it must have looked really funny from the perspective of the people sitting at the nearby tables - two adults shouting insults at each other like five-year-olds, but for you (less for their parents) this was pure entertainment.

your boyfriend and his sister were the epitome of a brother- sister dynamic.

“oh my god, why are you so surprised i’m letting my literal girlfriend have my food?” he probably didn’t notice how his grip on you slightly tightened on the word “girlfriend”, but you couldn’t hide the small smile as he did that. it was cute how his body was unconsciously paying attention to you without him even knowing. “stop being a pain in the ass, and keep eating that grass or whatever that is.”

“did you just rhyme ass with gra-?”

“okay, you know what? you,” soonyoung’s mom pointed her fork at her daughter, “stop stealing his food. and you,” now she turned her head to her son, “have nothing left on that plate so leave, or keep your mouth zipped.”

“but mom, it wasn’t me who started this!”

yeah, the kwon family was a funny bunch, and you thanked your luckiest stars you could be a part of this beautiful mess.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl@uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot @iamawkwardandshy@icyminghao@heeseungthel0ml@goyangiiwonu@bath1lda@ruurooozz@ny0sang@luuxian

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incognit0slut · 7 months ago

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PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3| PART 4

Behind Closed Doors 4

Your frustration over his broken promise melts away as soon as he calls, and you find yourself unexpectedly drawn to his voice, more than you anticipated.

Warnings: (18+, MDNI) Phone sex, mutual (and guided) masturbation, dirty talk ~4.7k words

A/n: this is just me wishing he was on quinn😔 anyway enjoy part 4, this mini series is not dead (i don’t even know how long it will be but let’s just celebrate that I’m finally updating)

All men do is lie, you thought as you flopped onto your bed.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault—but you weren’t in the mood to be reasonable. You remembered that car ride vividly. He had promised you more time together, a moment to finally be alone. Instead, what did you get? A new case, then another, and amidst all the chaos and dodging bullets (literally and metaphorically), you two somehow managed to drift apart.

The past few weeks had been the busiest since you started working at the BAU, and that was saying a lot, considering there was never really a moment of peace when you worked for the government. But this time was different, it seemed even more chaotic than usual. Every time you thought of bringing up the conversation with him—or maybe sneak in a little make-out session—something urgent would come up.

There was never the right time, or the right moment. It felt as if the universe had other plans for you, and none of them involved the two of you getting a moment alone. And before you knew it, you were caught in this maddening cycle of missed opportunities, and the worst thing was, you were sexually frustrated.

This time, you had no one else to blame but him. Ever since he came into the picture, your carefully maintained self-control had started to slip, and now, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t ignore the growing need between your legs. It was aching, throbbing, and even the thought of him was making you hot and restless.

How did he manage to do that? He wasn’t even trying. There was nothing overtly seductive in the way he moved or spoke, and yet every glance, every accidental touch, seemed to affect you. Spencer. Just his name made your breath hitch, your body betraying you. You weren’t proud to admit this, but the mere thought of his fingers brushing your skin had you feeling that first rush of arousal slipping into your panties.

You huffed, considering digging out your pink silicone toy hidden somewhere in your drawer. And while you were contemplating this, knowing it had been a while since you last used it because nothing could compare to the feeling of his touch now, your phone on the bedside table rang.

Maybe the universe was really testing you, because his name flashed across the screen and it took a lot of self-control for you not to pick up on the first ring and demand him to fuck you right there and then, which sounded too crass when you weren’t in the middle of straddling his lap like the last time. So instead, you decided to wait until the sixth ring before you answered with a curt, “Hey.”

There was a pause, then a sigh. “You’re mad at me.”

Could he tell? Of course, he could. He always had an uncanny ability to read you, even over the phone. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“I can almost see you rolling your eyes.”

“I never roll my eyes,” you shot back.

“You rolled your eyes last week when Luke tried to tell us that his dog could sniff out bodies better than our trained ones.”

You suppressed a smile, surprised that he even noticed you giving Luke a once-over at that particular moment. “That was because his dog chases its tail more than it chases leads.”

"And I'm not worthy of an eye roll?"

“Honestly, you deserve more than an eye roll,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

"So you are mad,” he stated, growing quiet for a while. “I’m sorry.”

And now you felt bad. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to clear your thoughts. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel any less better.”

You felt a pang of guilt as you stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame him. Serial killers, unfortunately, didn’t come with a schedule, and now Spencer was already on his leave. You recalled the excitement in his voice when he told you about the seminars Emily had arranged for him to teach. He had spoken with an enthusiasm you hadn’t heard in a long time, his eyes practically lighting up every time he mentioned it.

How could you be upset about that?

"I'm not... mad.”

There was a slight teasing note in his voice as he replied, "Just annoyed then?"

You held back a smile. "Maybe a little."

“Anything I can do to help with that?” His voice softened through the phone. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

Your thoughts immediately went to the sticky situation between your legs, and you felt a flush of embarrassment. Technically, he could help with that. But could you say that? Should you?

"I don’t know, depends on what you have in mind,” you replied, trying to steer your mind away from the direction it was heading. There was a pause, a silence that hung in the air as he carefully considered his next words.

"I could… start by telling you how much I miss you?”

Now that, you didn’t expect. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Spencer had never really acknowledged his feelings with words when his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it out loud made the emotions between you feel undeniably real. It was as if his words shattered whatever platonic friendship the two of you had built over the past years.

Although you knew your friendship had fundamentally changed the moment he had you pinned on the desk that fine afternoon, it didn’t stop you from questioning about where you truly stood.

"You miss the idea of me," you corrected him, unable to resist yourself.

“You know that’s not true,” he replied gently.

“Do I?”

“Yes, you know me better than that,” he insisted. “You’re a great profiler, you can tell if I’m not being honest.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, despite trying to stay mad at him. "You hate being profiled.”

"That was before I realized how useful your skills are in deciphering my feelings.”

“You know I’d rather you tell me how you feel.”

“I did, I miss you, and you chose not to believe me.”

Your cheeks actually ached from smiling too much. You couldn’t help but feel a warm, tingling sensation spread through you. “Fine,” you sighed, finally giving in. “I believe you.”

“And?”

You rolled onto your side. “And what?”

“Do you not miss my absence at work?”

“Well…”

“Well?” He prompted.

Now how could you tell him you missed more than just his presence? How could you admit that you missed the way he made you feel, the way his breath felt hot against your skin, without sounding obvious or too needy? Because you missed everything about him. His hands, his lips, his tongue—oh dear god, his tongue.

Spencer suddenly called out your name, and you forced yourself to focus, feeling your heartbeat quicken as you cleared your throat.

“Yes, I—I miss you,” you finally admitted.

There was a pause, then his voice came through, lighter, teasing. “Why do you sound like that?”

“…like what?”

“Like you’re out of breath.”

You gripped the sheets tightly, the fabric bunching under your fingers. How could you even begin to explain this to him now that he was onto you? You felt like you were on the verge of a full-blown emotional meltdown. God, if he knew how many times you’d replayed every kiss, every touch, in your mind, he’d never let you live it down.

It was almost laughable, really. Here you were, trying to keep it together, and failing miserably. “It’s just… I really, really miss you.”

“You really miss me? Are you trying to say something?”

You hesitated, your mind scrambling for the right words without revealing too much. “No…?”

“Mhm,” he replied, clearly unconvinced. “You’re not telling me everything.”

You gripped the phone tighter. “I’m just saying... It's hard without you here. You know, in every way.”

“In every way?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling both embarrassed and mortified. “I just... I miss how you make me feel. Physically.”

“Physically?” he pressed. “Can you elaborate?”

“I’m... you know, I’ve been... missing certain things. Certain... activities.”

“Certain activities,” he repeated your words once again. It was then that you realized he was teasing you, clearly enjoying your discomfort a little too much. “You mean like... talking?”

“No. More like... the other stuff we do when we’re alone.”

"I don't understand."

At that point, your embarrassment was gnawing at you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. “God, Spencer, don’t make me say it,” you groaned, burying your face in your pillow.

“Come on, I need a little more than that.” He sounded both amused and curious. “I’m just making sure I understand you right.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you muttered into the pillow, your voice muffled but still clear enough for him to hear.

“Actually, I don’t think I do. You could be missing so many things, you have to help me out here.”

You turned your head to the side, exasperation coloring your tone. “Spencer…”

"Yes?" he responded innocently.

"You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

"I find precise communication to be very important.”

You let out a groan, feeling the last of your restraint crumble. “Alright! Fine!” you snapped. “I’m horny, okay? And it’s all your fault!”

His laughter rang through the phone, and you could almost see the grin spreading across his face. “My fault?"

"Yes! I feel like a deprived, horny teenager here, and I just…”

You trailed off, hardly believing you had actually said that out loud. The realization hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you wished you could take it back. There was a pause that seemed to stretch on forever and you wondered if you had gone too far.

He finally broke the silence, breathing out your name in a way that made your skin tingle. "You could've told me from the start."

You could, but you’d rather not.

"I didn't want to sound desperate."

"You can be desperate with me,” he said softly. “Just say the word and I’ll give you anything you want.”

If there was one thing Spencer was good at, it was getting under your skin. He really shouldn’t be saying those words, not now, not when it was making you crave him even more. You swallowed, feeling a tightness in your chest, a knot in your stomach. The part of you that always played it safe wanted to retract, to laugh it off as a joke. But then there was that other part, the part that craved his attention, the part that was tired of holding back.

“Tell me, what do you want now?”

You took a deep breath and laid on your back, the words catching in your throat. You felt your pulse quicken.

“I want… you.”

“Tell me how you want me.”

Your fingers trailed over the sheets, your touch light as you imagined it was him beneath your fingertips. “Spencer…”

“Come on,” he pressed. “Tell me.”

You paused, your heart pounding in your chest. You could almost imagine him right in front of you, staring at you with those beautiful brown eyes that always managed to make you melt, coaxing words from you that you barely dared to think, let alone speak.

Just say it. He's waiting. He wants to hear it.

Your hand began to move.

“I… I want your hands on me.”

“Where do you want my hands?”

“Everywhere,” you whispered, your fingers grazing your body as if they were his. You closed your eyes.

“Everywhere?”

You found yourself nodding even though he couldn’t see you.

“On my hips…”

Your hand danced across your hips.

“My stomach…”

Your palm slipped under your shirt, moving slowly up your abdomen, feeling the warmth of your own touch and wishing it was his.

“Between my thighs…”

You paused at the hem of your panties, the only barrier beneath your shirt, hesitating as a flush of warmth spread through you. The line was silent for a moment, save for the sound of his breathing—a soft, heavy rhythm that matched the pounding of your own heart.

“Where else do you want me?”

Your fingers dipped inside the fabric. “I want you lower…”

“Tell me exactly where.”

“Where I’m most sensitive,” you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Your thighs instinctively squeezed together, hips rolling gently as your free hand began to drift south. “Spencer… please…”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“I…”

“Are you?”

“No…”

“Do you want to touch yourself?”

You licked your lips, your breath coming faster. “Maybe.”

“Then do it, no one’s stopping you.”

You hesitated, the reality of the situation sinking in. You couldn’t believe this was happening, that you were having this conversation with him. "This feels so naughty.”

"Naughty can be nice, though, right?" he assured you. "Don't think about it too much. It’s just you and me.”

There really was something about his voice, the way it effortlessly wrapped around you—smooth, coaxing, almost hypnotic. Despite the hesitation that tugged at your mind, your hand began to move lower, and your legs parting involuntarily. A soft gasp escaped your lips when your hand flew right to your pussy, fingers quickly tracing the length of your folds. You were already wet, and you began to spread your arousal towards your clit.

“Spencer…” you whined, feeling the sudden rush of sensations.

“Keep going,” he urged. “Tell me what you feel.”

You closed your eyes. “It feels… good…”

“Describe it to me.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words through the haze of pleasure. “It’s warm and wet… and…”

And you wished he was the one touching you.

You let your mind drift to your fantasy. You imagined it was his fingers circling your clit. You imagined his lips against yours, the way they would move together. You imagined him whispering these words right in front of you, his eyes locked on yours as you writhed beneath him. The fantasy felt so vivid that for a moment, you could almost feel his weight pressing down on you, his presence enveloping you completely.

Your imagination urged you to move faster, but you felt limited by the fabric in the way. You called out his name. “Can I… can I take my, um, underwear off?”

You could almost hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “Of course you can.”

You put your phone down, and with trembling fingers, you slid the fabric down your legs. You discarded them quickly and turned the call to speaker before you settled back on the bed. Your hand returned to your body, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin. You parted your legs even wider, and as your fingers found their rhythm, a moan escaped you.

“Better?”

You sighed in relief as you continued to rub your clit. “So much better.”

“Keep it slow, okay? We don’t want to rush.”

His voice was low and soothing, and you couldn’t believe how just by his voice he had gotten you so worked up.

“Now press a little harder.” You complied, applying a bit more pressure on your clit. "Right there. Do you feel that?"

"Yes," you gasped, your back slightly arching off the bed.

“I wish I could see you right now," he murmured. “I'd kiss you where you're touching.”

You let your imagination take over. You pictured him with his head right between your thighs, his eyes locked on yours with those intense, pretty eyes. You imagined his mouth moving over your clit, sucking gently while his fingers explored between your folds. The thought was so vivid, so real, that you could almost feel his warm breath against your skin.

The mental image of him looking up at you was almost too much to bear. “Spencer…”

"Keep going. Are your fingers wet?" You could simply moan back a reply, not trusting your own voice. “Now slowly slide in one. Can you do that for me?”

You did as he said, sliding a finger into your wetness. You could feel how tight you were, the slick warmth of your arousal enveloping your skin. You looked down between your legs and watched as you pleased yourself. It wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar sight. You had done this countless times before, but never with the voice of a man guiding you, especially Spencer—the last person you’d imagine doing this with.

Yet look at how much effect he had on you.

"You're quiet," his voice suddenly came through. "Are you still with me?"

"Yes," you managed to whisper. "It's just... a lot."

"In a good way, I hope?"

“Very good,” you assured him.

You could practically picture the corner of his lips twitching into a proud smile. “Good,” he recited. “Now try adding another finger.”

You couldn't help a moan escaping your lips as you pushed in your middle finger, the sound louder than you intended.

"How does that feel?"

"Full," you breathed out, adjusting to the sensation.

“Yeah? I bet you’re so tight.”

You were, awfully so. Your walls clenched around your fingers, almost swallowing them as you started to move them in a steady rhythm. The pleasure built in your lower stomach, a warm, coiling tension that made you desperate for more. You needed his voice, you craved his guidance, even from afar.

“Spence…” you whined. “Keep talking, please.”

“You want me to describe how I’d touch you if I were there?”

You moaned in response, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily, urging him to continue.

“If I were there,” he began, his voice low, “I’d start by kissing you slowly.”

You could almost feel it, his lips on yours, his tongue probing inside your mouth.

“I’d move lower,” he continued. “Kiss your neck, your collarbone… while my fingers would move along your hips, your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you need me most.”

You whimpered, your fingers moving faster as you followed his vivid description, imagining his touch guiding you.

“I’d tease you, brush my fingers right at your entrance,” he whispered. “Then, I’d slip them inside you, just like you’re doing now.”

Your breaths came in short gasps.

“I’d spread your legs wide,” he continued again, and you heard a faint rustling noise in the background. “I’d move my fingers in… and… out...”

Your legs fell further apart.

“I’d curl my fingers the same way I did that day,” he went on. “Do you remember?”

How could you not? It never truly left your mind. You could picture that day clearly, the feeling of his fingers and mouth working on your sensitive spot seemed to linger in your memory.

“I’d do the same thing that you like,” he proceeded, and you focused on his voice. “I’d lean in close… licking you… sucking you.”

You moaned loudly as the image of his mouth on your clit flashed through your mind. You could almost feel the way he would sloppily lap at you, drinking in every drop of your arousal with each eager flick of his tongue.

“Go faster for me,” he urged. “I-I want to hear how wet you are.”

You followed his words, and the slick sounds of your arousal filled the quiet around you as you imagined him there, his fingers replacing yours. You could hear more noise through the line, the subtle rustle of clothes moving, the faint sound of his breathing growing heavier before he let out a low grunt.

“You make the prettiest sounds,” he breathed out. “Now add another finger.”

Your eyes narrowed into a frown, trying to slip a third finger in but the stretch was too intense for you to continue. “I-I can’t.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed. “Just take it slow. Try to relax.”

You took a deep breath, trying to follow his instructions. You slowly eased in another finger, feeling the awkward stretch but the initial discomfort quickly faded into a deeper pleasure, and you moaned softly.

“Oh, fuck.”

“There you go,” he encouraged. “Feel that? Feel how full you are?”

You hummed a reply.

“That’s how I want you to feel when I’m finally inside you.”

A whine left your lips. In your head, you saw him, his body poised above yours, his cock sliding smoothly into you. You imagined the slick, rhythmic motion, the way each thrust would fill you, stretching you, overwhelming you. You cried out a filthy moan at the thought, unabashed and desperate, as you began to pump your fingers inside your cunt.

“Push deeper for me… I know you can take it.”

You gasped, pushing your fingers as deep as they could go. “I can’t… I need… oh…”

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You need more. You need me inside you, don’t you?”

“Spencer, please…” you begged, your voice breaking into desperate, choked sobs.

“You want that? You want to feel me stretch you?”

“Yes, yes…” you managed to moan out, your movements became more desperate.

“God, you’d be so tight around me… I’d have your legs spread wide so I… I-I could see how perfect you’d take me.”

You could almost feel his hands on your hips, his body pressing against yours, filling you completely. Your fingers moved frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you felt the tension building to an unbearable peak.

“You’d pull me closer, wouldn’t you? You’d ask for more, like you always do, and I’d give it to you,” he promised. “I’d give it to you so hard… s-so deep…”

And that was when you heard it—the unmistakable sound of wetness, like skin sliding over slick, damp skin. The sound was filthy, making your pulse race as you wondered what he might be doing on the other end of the line. Your voice trembled as you slowly asked him, “Spence, are you…?”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end before he let out a soft, almost sheepish laugh, as if you had caught him red-handed. “I… yeah,” he admitted, his voice breathless and strained. "Do you know how hard it is not to when listening to your voice?"

Your fingers subconsciously quickened at his confession, their movements becoming more urgent as you imagined him laying on his own bed, hand wrapped around his cock. You bit your lip to stifle your moans as you whispered, “Tell me what you’re doing.”

His breathing grew ragged, his words coming in clipped bursts. “I’m… I’m touching myself…”

You tried to focus on his voice, but the sound of his sloppy strokes began to echo louder. “Tell me more.”

“I’m… I’m rubbing… my fingers over the head,” he gasped, and you curled your fingers deeper, using your palm to grind against your clit. The way he sounded so lost in his pleasure, unable to hold back, had you imagining him stroking himself. You pictured yourself doing it for him, remembering how it felt that day when you had his cock in your hand—the weight, the warmth, the way he looked at you through intense eyes.

Your breathing grew heavier, louder, and his voice cracked with a strained moan as he whispered, “Can you lower your phone?”

You fumbled with the device, bringing it closer to where your fingers worked tirelessly between your legs. “Like this?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, the sound of his strokes growing faster and more urgent. “You sound so perfect.”

You let out a soft cry, your fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt frantically as you imagined him watching you, listening to every sound you made. The wet, slick noises filled the room, so intense and filthy. You looked down to see your juices spilling over your fingers, soaking the sheets beneath you. The sheer sound of it was enough to drive him crazy.

“I—f-faster, please,” he panted into the phone. “I need you to go faster.”

Your eyes widened for a moment as the desperate plea slipped from his lips. But you didn’t have the mental space to think about it. Your focus was solely on reaching your release as you ultimately sped up your pace. Your body began to tighten up, feeling so much pressure and pleasure building up every time your fingertips hit that deep spot inside you.

"Oh—fuck!” You exhaled sharply as the familiar sensation took over you. “I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m cumming—”

With a cry that was both a sob and a shout, your pussy fluttered around your fingers. Your orgasm ripped through you without warning, sending shockwaves of intense pleasure through your body as you gasped and shuddered. Your voice escaped in broken moans and whines, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“Spencer… oh, God, Spencer…”

The sound of your climax drove him to his own release. His breath hitched, his movements faltering as he let out a harsh sound from his throat. It was raw and unrestrained, downright filthy, and you listened intently, your fingers slipping out only to circle and rub your clit, drawing out the final waves of your orgasm.

Finally, when you couldn’t take it anymore, your hand fell away, and you lay there, breathing heavily, your body relaxing into the bed. Your room was quiet afterward, the only sound coming from was the sound of your own breathing. Then you heard him calling out your name, checking in. But through the post-orgasmic bliss, all you could manage in response was a giggle.

“You’re… laughing?” He mused. “Should I be concerned?”

“No, no,” you replied, still catching your breath, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. “It’s just… I can’t believe we did that.”

A gentle laugh escaped his lips, a warm, soothing sound that calmed your racing heart. "Did you like it?"

You liked it a lot. "Can’t say that I didn’t.”

"So I take it you're not mad at me anymore?"

You let out a soft, contented sigh. “I wasn’t even that mad to begin with. Just… frustrated,” you confessed. “But I think we handled that pretty well.”

“Maybe a little too well,” he agreed softly. “I can't believe I need to take a shower this late.”

You looked down between your legs at his words, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you as you noticed the patch of wetness on your bed. It wasn't small—it spread across the fabric in a noticeable, damp stain. “Uh, yeah,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “I also need to change my sheets.”

Then you heard a low, almost pained groan from his end of the line.

“What?”

“It’s just…” He paused, and you could almost hear him struggling to find the right words. "I'm now picturing you on your bed."

"Isn't that what you've been doing?"

"Well, yes, but now it's… different."

You couldn't help the amused grin that spread across your face. "Different how?"

"Let's just say the image in my mind is a lot more detailed now and it's not helping me calm down."

A burst of laughter erupted from your chest as you gripped your phone closer to you. “Is this your way of blaming me because you still have a hard-on?” you taunted. “I mean, I’m simply stating the facts.”

“But you’re painting a picture in my head.”

“Of me drenching the sheets just by hearing your voice?”

He made a low, strained sound. “Stop.”

“I can send you a picture if you like,” you offered slyly. “Help you visualize it better.”

There was a moment of stunned silence on his end before he finally muttered, “You shouldn’t.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t.”

“But if you insist…”

You laughed softly. “Good night, Spencer.”

“Wait—You’re hanging up?”

“Yep,” you said cheerfully. “I thought you needed a shower.”

He made another frustrated sound, somewhere between a groan and a sigh, before reluctantly agreeing. “Fine, fine. Good night.”

And that was it. You ended the call with a satisfied smile. But as you stared at your phone, a rush of thoughts began to swirl through your mind. You were well aware of the potential risks of what you were about to do—how it could be traced back to you. You could almost hear Penelope lecturing you about online security and the dangers of leaving a digital footprint.

But when your mind kept circling back to Spencer—Spencer’s breathless voice, Spencer’s prominent veins on his hands, Spencer with a freaking hard-on in his bed—it was hard to think rationally. Before you could stop yourself, you propped your phone on your pillow and posed for the camera. Legs spread wide, your nipples pressing against your shirt, a flirtatious smile playing on your lips. The shot looked like it came out of a porno movie. You quickly sent it to him.

It took exactly 7 seconds before your phone rang again.

“Yes, Spencer?” you answered, trying to sound innocent.

You heard shuffling and a muffled grunt, and then, faintly, the rustling of fabric. It sounded like he was fumbling with his phone, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the frustration in his voice.

“How do I turn this into video call again?”

#behind closed doors #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencerreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #Fanfiction #gifwriting

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triptuckers · 7 months ago

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feels like home - tyler owens x reader

Request: nope Pairing: tyler owens x reader Summary: after years, tyler is back in his home town. so much has changed, yet everything is the same Warnings: some swearing, mentions of a slight panic attack, there's a tornado (surprise!), some angst, thats it I think?? Word count: 2.5K A/N: I know nothing about tornadoes. I do know if glen powell asked me to go storm chasing with him I wouldn't hesitate. also running on literally 7% left of my battery but fuck it we roll!! enjoy!

It’s spring. Tyler’s favorite season. During this time of year, it’s peak tornado season. It’s when he’s in his element, doing what he loves.

He’s driving across the U.S. with his loyal crew, chasing the tornadoes wherever they go. And always, inevitably, he ends up in his hometown. It’s a small town, right in the middle of tornado alley.

Over the years, the people had started building their homes with stronger foundations that could withstand tornadoes better. Every year, there was still a lot of damage, but less than before. Most families had lived there for generations, and didn’t have any plans to move.

When Tyler pulls up to the local bar, his crew is energized and happy. They’d just finished chasing a rather intense tornado, and everyone is still high on adrenaline. They’re going out for drinks before going to bed, as tomorrow’s weather forecast showed good chances of another tornado.

Little did Tyler know, someone he knows very well has also picked tonight to go out for drinks.

You’re sitting at your usual table with a friend, blowing off some steam after a long day. You like the bar. Everyone knows each other, the bartenders know your drink order and always have it ready for you before you can even order it.

It’s one of the things you missed the most while you were away; the kindness of the small town. You know everyone here, and you always help each other out. Especially during tornado season.

When Tyler steps in the crowded bar, he instantly spots a few familiar faces. Old neighbors, childhood friends, friends of his parents. Then his eyes land on you. His breath hitches in his throat as he watches you laugh at something your friend says. He had no idea you were back.

You look up when you see a group of people approaching you from afar. That’s when you see him. Exactly how you remember him, only a little older and with a belt buckle that says “tornado wrangler”. But you’d known him long before he called himself that.

You and Tyler had dated all throughout college, when you were both studying meteorology. Everyone knew you and while most couples broke up during college, you and Tyler stayed together.

But then Tyler started chasing tornadoes and you moved to a bigger city to enroll in an advanced PhD program. You agreed to part ways. It just felt too difficult to still be in a relationship when the two of you were always away.

But you never stopped loving him. You still watch all of his videos. And you don’t know it, but he reads all of your research articles.

He’s walking up to you now, and you forget you’re in a crowded bar with a friend. You don’t pay attention to the people he brought with him.

You smile warmly at him. ‘Hey, Ty.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t do that, lady.’ says one of Tyler’s friends. ‘He hates when people call him Ty.’

He looks at Tyler, expecting him to say something snarky or mean to you, but he’s got a soft smile on his face.

‘Hey y/n.’ he says. ‘Still around, huh?’

‘Still around. I moved back after graduation. Even though people in a small town can be a handful sometimes, with everyone knowing everything about everyone, it’s still home.’

‘Yeah, it is.’ says Tyler.

Suddenly a few women approach Tyler, stealing him away from your conversation. Apparently, word got out the tornado wrangler is in town, and everyone wants to talk to him.

Tyler waves at you before taking off.

You’re looking at him as he walks away, and your friend nudges you.

‘I thought you guys broke up?’

‘We did. He went to go storm chasing, and I wanted to study more. It just wasn’t practical to stay together.’

‘But you still love him.’

You turn to look at your friend. ‘I never said I stopped loving him.’

‘So… kind of like right person, wrong time?’

‘Yeah, I guess.’

‘What are you waiting for then? He’s here now, go talk to him!’

‘Nah, he’s too busy with his crew. It was nice to see him though.’

You spend the rest of your evening chatting with your friend. You try to focus on the conversation and to not let your mind wander off to Tyler. He really looked good. And his crew looked like they are fun to hang out with.

When it’s getting late, you walk over to the bar to pay for your drinks. You say goodbye to your friend and head out to the parking lot.

You see Tyler and his crew standing around his red pick-up truck. They’re laughing and sharing a drink. Tyler spots you and waves at you from where he’s sitting on the hood of his car. You wave back as you get in your own truck.

‘Tell me, who is she?’ says Boone, pulling Tyler from his throughs as he watches you drive off.

Before Tyler can answer, Lilly starts listing off possible answers. ‘Secret fiancée? High school sweetheart? Admirer? Girl you went on three dates with and then left?’ she counts on her fingers.

‘No, none of that.’ says Tyler.

‘Definitely looks like a high school sweetheart. She’s your age, from around here. I bet you two grew up together.’

Tyler sighs. They’re not gonna let this go. And since they’re all going storm chasing tomorrow, they’re probably going to annoy him about it until he answers them.

‘We did grow up together. She was not my high school sweetheart, more like my college sweetheart. We broke up when I became a chaser.’

‘Let me guess, she always called you Ty?’ says Boone.

Tyler smiles at the memory. ‘She did.’

‘Ohhh my boy is whipped!’ says Boone, giving Tyler a playful shove.

‘Oh, fuck off, Boone. That’s all in the past. She probably has someone waiting for her at home.’

But you didn’t.

You hadn’t really dated anyone after your breakup with Tyler.

Sure, you’d been on a few dates people had set you up with. But somehow, it never felt right. It never felt like it did while you were with Tyler. Loving Tyler was just so easy. Like you were always meant to find each other.

When he walked in that bar earlier tonight, he looked different. Older, sure. But also very handsome. You could tell he loved being a chaser. You wish you could’ve talked more with him, just the two of you.

The next morning when you wake up, it’s much earlier than you would have liked. You didn’t have any plans today and wanted to sleep in. As you lay in bed, you hear the rain slam against the window. You’re used to it, and it usually doesn’t wake you up.

But as the rain starts to get heavier, you hear the wind is picking up as well. You knew there was a tornado warning for this morning, but it wasn’t for your town. The tornado was supposed to move away from you.

That’s when you hear the siren. It’s almost part of your routine, it’s so familiar. You’re quick to get out bed, grabbing your phone. As you race downstairs to get to your shelter, you pull up the weather map. Which shows the tornado going straight for the main street of town. Fuck.

You hastily pull on your boots and open the backdoor to your garden, which is where your shelter is. You run toward it, the wind whipping in your face and the rain soaking your clothes in seconds.

It takes a lot of strength to open the shelter doors with the wind threatening to slam them closed again. Finally, you make it inside after nearly falling down the stairs. You close the doors and bolt them.

Now all that’s left for you to do is wait until the tornado is gone. You switch on the tiny light and pull out a blanket. There’s not much here except for some canned food. If Tyler saw this, you just know he’d immediately go to the store to get more supplies “just in case”.

Thinking of him, you pull out your phone. You’re thinking about calling him, when you notice you have no service. The tornado must have already done a lot of damage.

Meanwhile, Tyler is in the of the storm, near the tornado. They’re ready to get some great shots, but something changes.

The tornado was supposed to head east and then die out, but it’s too slow. Tyler squints his eyes, looking at it. It’s almost as if it’s getting closer again.

He realizes what’s happening at the same time Boone yells ‘It’s turning around!’

And he’s right. The tornado is heading west again. And Tyler knows what’s there. His hometown. Your hometown.

‘Oh, fuck.’ he says. He prays that you’re safe. He knows you’re smart, you’re probably inside the shelter by now. But he still worries.

They wait out the tornado before driving back to the town, prepared to help in any way they can. Debris is scattered throughout the streets. People walk around, helping each other or trying to salvage what’s left of their possessions in the rubble of the houses.

Ever since they got back, Tyler has been trying to call you. You’re not picking up. He’s desperately telling himself you know the protocols. Hell, you’ve lived in tornado alley your entire life. You’re probably taking inventory of the damage on your property right now.

Meanwhile, you’ve been listening to the storm outside. It’s all quiet now, you don’t hear any rain or wind, or sirens. You climb up the stairs and push open the doors. Except they don’t open. You check all the hinges, which are all still secure in place. Then why won’t the doors open?

You walk back down the stairs as you slowly start to panic. There’s probably debris blocking the doors. You have no cell service. Everyone is busy with their own houses. How long would it take for someone to find you?

You’re trying desperately to stay calm. People will find you eventually, right? But soon the tears are streaming down your face. You’d been in this shelter before, but it’s terrifying when you can’t open the door and all you have is a dim light, some canned food, a blanket and a phone without service.

Tyler’s crew is helping the people in town. But he gets increasingly more worried when you won’t pick up a single of his phone calls.

Lilly notices his worried glances at his phone while she’s handing out food to people. ‘Tyler.’

He looks up at her. Lilly jerks her head to his truck. ‘Go see if she’s alright. You know where she lives, right?’

Tyler nods.

‘Go. We’ve got it here.’ says Lilly.

He takes a quick look around. Lilly is right, his crew can handle it here. He just really needs to know if you’re okay.

There’s too much debris on the road, so Tyler ditches his truck and walks the rest of the way. He could walk this route with his eyes closed. The longer he walks, the more destruction he sees and the more the uneasy feeling in his chest grows.

What if you were somewhere buried in the rubble of your house and he never got a chance to ask you if you wanted to try again? To see if you still had that spark you had when you were younger? He knew you wouldn’t let him go that easily. It had hurt you both when you broke up. And seeing you again, it reminded him of all the time you had spent together during college.

When he finally gets to your house, he sees it’s mostly still intact. The walls are still standing, but the roof needs fixing. Most of your windows are broken and a tree had fallen on your truck.

Tyler rushes to the front door, which is hanging off its hinges. He quickly enters your house.

‘y/n? y/n! Where are you?’

When you don’t respond, he tries calling you again.

‘Come on, pick up, pick up.’ he mutters. Still no answer. Damn it.

Where would you go during a tornado? He’s forcing his mind to stop spinning out of control so he can think logically. Then he remembers you have a shelter in your backyard. How could he forget? He even helped you stock it in case something like this happened.

He runs through your messy living room, pieces of broken glass crunching underneath his boots. When he gets outside, he sees your shed – or what’s left of it – on top of the doors to your shelter.

‘y/n!’ he yells again, running toward the shelter.

You faintly hear a voice yelling your name. You briefly think you’re actually going insane at that point. Your panicked mind is making this up because it knows Tyler gives you a feeling of safety. Tyler isn’t here, he’s most likely outside still chasing the damn tornado. There’s no way he’d be here.

‘y/n are you in there? Give me a shout if you can hear me!’

But that’s unmistakably his voice. You hear sounds outside near the door.

‘Ty?’ you say quietly.

‘Come on! Are you in there?’

‘Ty!’ you say, louder this time.

Outside, Tyler lets out a big sigh of relief as he continues to draw away the debris from the doors of your shelter.

Finally, he can see the handle of one of the doors and yanks it open.

You squint your eyes at the sudden sunlight. Your eyes are quick to adjust, and they land on Tyler.

Standing there, breathing heavily, looking at you and holding out his hand for you to take.

‘Ty..’ you say softly. Fresh tears start to run down your cheeks as you take his hand and allow him to pull you out of the shelter.

He pulls you against his chest, one hand coming around your back and the other on the back of your head, holding you against him.

You allow yourself to get lost in the familiar feeling. Tyler still wears the same cologne, and you still fit perfectly in his arms. God, you missed him.

‘I was so scared.’ you mumble.

‘I know, sweetheart, I know.’ says Tyler.

He pulls back slightly so he can look you in the eye. ‘Are you hurt?’ he asks.

You shake your head. ‘I got to the shelter as soon as I heard the sirens, like you taught me.’

Tyler smiles at you. ‘You did good.’

‘I brought my phone but there was no service and then I couldn’t open the door and I-‘

‘y/n.’ says Tyler, cutting you off. ‘You’re alright. I got you out.’

‘Thank you.’ you say, burying your head in his chest once more.

The two of you stand there for a while. You both need this right now.

‘Ty?’ you say.

He hums in response.

‘Please don’t leave again.’

He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

‘I’m never leaving you again, sweetheart.’

A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost, steal or translate my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love,Marit

#listen... glen powell in a cowboy hat and boots and jeans and a button up shirt..... good lord #going to see twisters again next week lets goooo #please please please send me Tyler requests <3 #twisters #tyler owens #Tyler owens x reader #Tyler owens fanfiction #Tyler owens fanfic #Tyler owens fanfics #Tyler owens fic #Tyler owens fics #Tyler owens oneshot #Tyler owens oneshots

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raz-writes-the-thing · 1 year ago

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Is That A Promise? (Venom One-Shot)

Eddie Brock x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Telling you about Venom does not go entirely how Eddie planned.

CW: mentions of monster fucking, Eddie is oblivious and a dumbass (I think I have a type)

Venom Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

You’d known Eddie Brock a good while by this point. You’d started dating him a while back, and while he put others on edge, you’d found the way he talked to himself out loud rather charming, actually.

At first, you weren’t sure if he was just unmedicated, or undiagnosed. But then the news broke about the symbiote, and then there was the footage. And when Eddie started coming home right after news broke of some other attack or taking out of a bad guy or criminal or whoever, you’d put two and two together.

It was kind of hard not to. Particularly as his conversations with himself could vary from topic to topic in the span of six words or less.

Eddie had asked to meet up for lunch today at your favourite restaurant. He’d seemed a bit off on the phone, and given how prone you were to anxiety, your immediate thought had been that he was breaking up with you and that you’d done something to upset him or his bodily guest- who you did not officially know about, of course.

You’d gotten there early to prepare yourself for whatever shitshow was about to follow and to your immense surprise, Eddie had shown up pretty much right after you. Eddie was always running late, so this change in pace was also mildly concerning. You were not sure how this was going to go and you did not like that one bit.

“You’re here early, too,” Eddie had said, swallowing thickly and avoiding eye contact. You nodded, and cleared your throat, gesturing for him to sit down at the table opposite you.

“Yeah, I wanted to make sure we had a spot,” you replied, smoothing down your shirt. Bit of a nervous habit. That and ripping at your nails, but that was beside the point.

“Right,” Eddie replied.

And then the two of you lapsed into silence. You spent a good five to ten minutes appearing to read over the menu as if this wasn’t a regular spot for you and you didn’t know exactly what you were going to order. In fact, you’d be surprised if the cooks weren’t already making it up for you even though a waiter hadn’t come over yet.

“Shut up,” Eddie hissed quietly. You peered over the menu to eye him curiously, one brow arced in question.

“I didn’t say anything, Eddie.”

“Yeah, I know. I- uh, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. You hummed, and put the menu down to give him your attention.

“About me shutting up?”

“No- God, this is not going at all like I planned.” Eddie rubbed a hand over his face and sighed.

You said nothing, waiting patiently for him to work out his wording.

“I really like you,” he started, and you nodded, replying with the same sentiment. “And, well, there’s something I’ve been hiding from you.”

“Right…” This is where you expected him to tell you he was married (doubtful but not impossible) or had cancer or something terrible. Dear God, please no.

“Look- you’ve seen on the news, yes, the, uh- the attacks. Yeah?”

You nod. Ah, so he was finally telling you about his friend living literally rent-free in his body. Okay, you could relax a little.

“He’s me. Venom, he lives in my body. He’s in my head. Like, all the time. Right now.”

Eddie looked at the table where he was picking at the tablecloth. You were silent for a second, and Eddie clearly took that to mean you were horrified or disgusted or something. You were a little nervous about it, sure, but you’d also been living with him for the last few months. If Venom was planning to take you out, he would have done so by now, surely. You figured this to mean you were safe enough. You’d also seen your fair share of monster porn, so you weren’t exactly unkeen on the idea of dating someone who sometimes had a monster body. It was kind of hot, actually. You shook the thought out of your head and tried to focus.

“Oh, yeah- I knew about that,” you replied, and the way Eddie’s head snapped towards you was almost comical.

“You what?”

“Yeah, I figured that out a while ago. I was just waiting for you to tell me in your own time.”

Eddie blinked, and a black residue appeared on the back of his hand. It swirled and gathered on his hand before reaching for you delicately. You met it, brushing your finger over it softly. The goop (for lack of a better word) seemed to shiver pleasurably and you smiled.

“Can I meet him later?”

Eddie nodded, watching the interaction with disbelief. He’d thought that you’d go running and screaming through the doors or something, not be rubbing your fingers over Venom like you were fingering some Play-Doh.

“Y-yeah, later,” he agreed. “Not here. When we get home.”

You grinned and the black substance retreated back into Eddie’s skin as a waiter appeared by your table.

“What can I get for you? The regular?”

You looked at Eddie and clicked your tongue thoughtfully.

“The usual with a serving of chicken nuggets on the side, please.”

The waiter nodded, scribbled it own on his pad and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen. Eddie looked at you in question. He knew you weren’t big on nuggets.

“They’re for Venom,” you explained, propping your head up on your palm. Eddie looked to the side as if listening to something carefully.

“Venom says thank you-” Eddie said before cutting himself as Venom said something else in his head. “No, I’m not saying that. No. No.”

“Say what?”

Eddie sighed defeatedly- something you think he did a lot when it came to Venom.

“Venom said he could kiss you right now.” Eddie looked mortified as the words left his mouth. You burst into laughter.

“Is that a threat or a promise? I hope it’s a promise,” you replied, wiggling your eyebrows at the two of them.

Eddie swallowed thickly and blushed as Venom said something else. You’d have to see if Venom could swap hosts sometime. It would be nice to have a conversation while out and about like that.

“Promise,” Eddie replied.

Good.

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fuxuannie · 8 months ago

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Hey girl, I LOVED YOUR HEADCANONS. Specifically abt Ken x Reader. If you can write about headcanons abt maybe when he's jealous? You covered literally almost everything in your headcanons, so I have nothing to request except this 😭

❥﹒kenji sato x gender neutral reader

✦. synopsis — part 2 of the kenji sato headcanons because i am totally normal <3

✦. love mail — i swear i promise ill post hsr guys 😞 just let me have my moment w sato i beg. i’ve decided to just do this req + add some more hehe. thank you sm requester for enabling my brain rot! (pls more ppl do so)

✦. tags — NO SPOILERS, fluff, dadgirl kenji, non-intimate/sexual kissing, kenji sato x reader, i wrote this w my brain off again ( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ ;; pls

Jealousy was not fun for the Kenji Sato. Before Emi came along and changed him, I can see him being the type to get jealous easily. Why would you need to talk to other people anyway? You had him, he was the best. He’d make it real obvious too, suddenly wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close, or the following days he has you wear his iconic jacket while you’re out with him so everyone knows exactly who and what you two are. If it gets to the better of him, he’ll get all pouty about it. He wants all your attention, your eyes all over him and him only. Maybe even hands but that’s a different thing. But I think after Emi’s influence, it’s less possessive and he’s grown to trust you with others instead of letting his feelings get in the way. Of course he’s not immune to jealousy, but you notice it a lot less. It’s less suffocating for you and you’re grateful he’s grown. You did love the pouty face he’d make though, it was cute.

Now if you were jealous, which is really no surprise.. Kenji had thousands of admirers, he had gifts on his doorstep like every other day. He’ll do everything to prove and reassure you that you’re the only one who has his heart. He’ll post you on his social media, take you out on dates, all those things to wash your worries away. Lastly, he’ll hold you in his arms at night and whisper everything he loves about you. Everything you were silently insecure about, he loved. Every date you thought he forgot, he remembered. And to meet a guy like that? How lucky can you be? (He tells you he’s luckier of course. <3)

I think he’s a messy kisser for the most part 🧐. (Forgive me in advance for this part. I am not very good at these things.) When he can take his time, he’s slow and gentle. Genuinely just trying to show you that yeah, he loves you, so damn much. And he’s going to show that through his passion by taking things slow so you can really feel his devotion. Other times, because he’s always in a rush, he’ll do a messy but clearly desperate kiss. He doesn’t like leaving without one, and you can describe him kissing you like it’s his last, (because it’s really not a far-fetched guess considering his line of work) his hand behind your head and pressing your lips against his in an almost ravenous manner. He does give you a very quick kiss on the forehead and runs off after finishing, leaving you a little dazed.

He LOVES to take you out on night rides. If ever you get a little nervous/have a fear of motorcycles, he’ll talk you all the way through via the cardo he put into your helmet. He’ll take you to some nice cafes or restaurants around Tokyo, other time’s he’ll bring you to some favourite childhood spot of his. When you arrive, he’ll tell you about his mother and the memories he’s made in this very special spot. It warms your heart to see his expression be so fond when he talks about his childhood – he truly misses it.

Before you knew of Kenji’s identity, I think it would be funny if you hated Ultraman. You just LOATHED the guy, Kenji asked your thoughts on Ultraman on the first date and you went on a rant about how he threw your car at a Kaiju only to miss. (He felt so embarrassed). It would be funnier if afterwards, he began to actually do his job as Ultraman properly.. and avoided cars on your street and avenue. He wanted to make sure you didn’t utterly hate Ultraman before revealing that he was him.

It would be cute if you and him knew each other like, much earlier. And you called him Ken. And then he made that his alias while he was becoming an All-Star baseball player. :) He’ll brag about it all the time in interviews too, that you’re the reason he uses it. <3

He’s the typa guy to have a picture of you in his room, behind his phone case, in his wallet, in his car and literally anywhere he can get his hands on. He bought a polaroid camera just to take pictures of you, he could care less about the price of film or the camera itself.. he just wanted to have as many pictures of you as possible. He’ll brag about it to his baseball teammates too, considering he also keeps one in his pockets for good luck. :)

You're his goodluck charm. <3

#♡ — 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 #kenji sato x reader #ken sato x reader #ken sato #kenji sato #ultraman rising x reader #ultraman rising

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bloomzone · 3 months ago

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ALRIGHT, let’s keep it REAL for a second. You know the drill—you're on your phone, thinking, "I'll just scroll for a minute," but then one TikTok turns into 20, and before you know it, you’ve wasted an hour or two, and your to-do list is still staring at you, untouched. We’ve all been there. You didn’t even mean to procrastinate, but somehow, scrolling has become your default LIKE UR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT. Now you’re sitting there, realizing you’ve literally accomplished nothing, and you’re feeling the pressure creeping up. The guilt sets in, and suddenly the task seems way bigger than it actually is. It’s like time got stolen from you, but the problem is, you let it happen. And that’s okay—we’ve all been there, but let’s talk about how we can stop this cycle and get back on track.So how do we actually break this HABIT and get YOUR SHIT TOGETHER ? First, time-blocking is a solid strategy. HEAR ME OUT Don’t think you need to study for hours straight. Start small—set a timer for 20-30 minutes where you focus only on your homework, then take a 5-10 minute break. You’ll be surprised how much you can get done in those short bursts, and the breaks will keep you from feeling burned out. NEEEXT get your phone out of your face SERIOUSLY, put THAT SHIT it in another room or at least out of reach while you’re working the temptation to check social media is too strong, and if you don’t see it, you won’t even remember it’s there. Also, let’s be honest, a lot of us scroll because we’re avoiding something. So, try this: break your tasks into super small chunks. Instead of saying “I need to finish this whole chapter,” say “I’ll do the first page, then the next,” and slowly build from there. Turn off notifications, too. If you know a text or Instagram notification is going to pull you away from your work, MUTE THAT SHIT ! Your friends and memes can wait. And finally, remember YOUR FUCKING DREAMS UR GOAAALS LIKE GUUURL U WANT TO BE A RICH WORK FOR IIIIT ..When you're tempted to procrastinate, think about why you're putting in the work. Whether it’s to feel less stressed or to actually enjoy your weekends because you’ve gotten stuff done, reminding yourself of your end goal helps you push through the urge to scroll. So yeah, it’s not about being perfect—just about taking small steps every day. You don’t need to be working 24/7, but get focused when you need to, and trust me, you’ll see the difference !

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covenofagatha · 2 months ago

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hiiii <33

Could you write something about Agatha being a little insecure about being older than the reader?

Maybe they're at a party and someone the reader's age is going to talk to her and Agatha feels jealous and a little insecure, but pretend not to feel anything?

Then they go home and the reader shows Agatha that she loves her more than anything :)

If it's not too much to ask, the reader could have an obsession with Agatha's breasts and... really like eating her out? (like, a *really* big obsession) (sorry, Mrs Fletcher is on my mind a lot lately)

sorry for the details, lol, this came to me in the middle of the night

and by the way, I love your writing <33 you write very well

and I'm looking forward to the but you are my stepmother update :D

kisseess <3

I may have changed the setting a little bit (I've been watching Succession and was influenced lol) but hopefully you like! Also, Mrs. Fletcher literally changed my life so I completely understand

I combined this one with another request for being obsessed with Agatha’s breasts

Happy New Year to everyone!

Glitter on the floor

When Agatha gets jealous at the company New Year's Eve party, you remind her that she has nothing to worry about

Word count: 4300

Warnings: oral sex, oral fixation, breast fixation, marking

“Do you think anyone would notice if we just leave before the party even starts?” You ask, throwing a stress ball up in the air and catching it without even looking.

You’re laying on your back on the couch in Agatha’s office and she snorts from her seat at her desk.

Unlike you, when Agatha said she was going up to her office to quickly read over a contract before the company New Year’s Eve party, she meant it. You had just followed her up here to see if she was willing to get up to any funny business.

“You don’t think they would notice that the CEO and General Counsel of the company aren’t at the company party?” Agatha asks amusedly, sarcasm dripping from her tone.

Spellbound Network is a multi-billion dollar news conglomerate that Agatha Harkness is the Chief Executive Officer of. She’s absolutely ruthless and doesn’t hesitate before tearing anybody and everybody down. Nothing will stand in her way of world domination.

As General Counsel, you’re a little less important, but you know that Agatha is right. The last thing you need is people speculating.

The two of you have been involved in a more than professional relationship for seven months now. It all started when you offered to stay late to help her finish up with some end-of-quarterly reviews before the deadline and the two of you had ended up going out for drinks when you had finally finished. Agatha had let her hair down and told you just how stressed she was, and you had stupidly told her that you could help her relieve some of that stress.

She had raised an eyebrow and you had taken it as a challenge. The next thing you knew, she was calling a car and the two of you were making out in the backseat on the way to her penthouse.

It had grown into a relationship, a relationship that no one else in the office knew about. Things were getting pretty serious, and Agatha had even brought up you moving in with her.

But you roll your eyes anyway. “It’ll be boring,” you drag out the last word slowly, sitting up to face her. “Wouldn’t you rather go back to your place, or even just stay up here?” You give her an impish grin and a wink.

It’s a lost cause. Agatha has never let you touch her nor has she touched you in the office.

She fixes you with a glare. “If you’re not going to behave, you can go downstairs and help set up for the party.”

You hum in acquiescence and you’re about to resume your position on your back when Agatha leans forward and props herself up on her elbows, pushing her visible cleavage together.

Your mouth runs dry. She’s wearing a long black dress with a low neckline that puts her breasts — that you may or may not be obsessed with — very much on display. You wouldn’t be surprised if she did it to tease you.

“Agatha,” you whine, trying to sound pathetic so she’ll take pity on you. You can practically taste her skin with how badly you want her.

She knows what you’re thinking, as always. “Stop,” she says without even looking up from her desk. “You aren’t going to goad me into touching you. Hasn’t worked any other time, isn’t going to work now.”

You pout. “What are you talking about? I’ve never tried to.” It’s a bold-faced lie and you both know it.

“Oh yeah?” She asks, at last looking up at you. “So when you got me that vibrator for the Secret Santa at the Christmas party, ‘not realizing that it was a public gift swap’; that wasn’t an attempt to work me up? Or when you just happen to come in here almost every day and knock over my pens so you have to bend down and shake your ass in my face?”

You can’t help but chuckle at the reminders of your brazenness. To be fair, you had genuinely thought that the Secret Santa swap would be done in a group but then the gifts would be opened alone. And much to your surprise, you were wrong and when Rio Vidal, the head of Human Resources, had announced that it was time for everyone to open their gifts, you had quickly dragged Agatha upstairs, making some excuse about a phone call about a breaking news story.

She had been furious at almost having to open your gift in front of the entire staff, and instead of having a very Merry Christmas Eve, courtesy of your generous gift and a well-placed bribe to the person who had actually drawn Agatha in the swap, she hadn’t touched you at all that night.

But Christmas Day was much better, when she had put you on your knees for almost an hour and you made her cum four times with just your mouth.

“You’re not letting those go anytime soon, are you?” You mutter.

She throws a paper clip at you. “Go downstairs and stop bothering me,” she orders, fondness still in her voice.

You huff a big sigh, one that tells her that just because you’re obeying doesn’t mean you’re happy about it, and walk over to place the paper clip and stress ball back on her desk. You straighten out your own dress, a long maroon one, and lean over to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

To your surprise, she lets you do it and she even deepens it, flicking her tongue against the entrance to your mouth. When she pulls away, her eyes are dark and you’re about to ask her to reconsider, but she ushers you away with her hand and turns back to the contract.

There’s not very many people in the lobby where the party is taking place, so you stand alone at a table and accept a glass of champagne from a waitress. It’s only ten pm and you know most of the staff won’t get here until closer to midnight, which would’ve been smart.

If only Agatha hadn’t insisted that you and her come in for the entire day and get ahead of all the stuff that’s coming up in the new year. She didn’t even let you go back to your apartment once you both had finished, instead letting you shower in her private adjoining bathroom.

And she wonders why you’re already so bored; you’ve been at the office for fourteen hours.

Still at least two more to go.

You take another glass of champagne and set it down next to your already half-empty glass. You’re going to need it once more people start showing up.

It’s not that you don’t like them, it’s just that…if the building was on fire, you’d only really think or care about saving Agatha.

“Hey there, General Counsel,” Rio says, slinking up to you.

You smile. She’s an oddball, but her wry sense of humor sometimes is the only thing that gets you through business trips. Besides Agatha, of course.

And it’s not exactly a secret that she has a bit of a crush on you. On paper, it would make more sense than you and Agatha. Rio is your age, and for all intents and purposes, doesn’t have any power over you, nor you her.

But you’re in love with Agatha, and older women have always been more your type anyway. You’re perfectly happy with being friends with Rio, and it seems that Rio is content with your relationship now too.

“Hey, Rio,” you greet, lifting your glass in a silent toast to her. She lifts up the other one and smoothly downs it in one gulp.

And then the elevator dings and Agatha steps out and you forget all about Rio and everyone else. Your eyes follow her as she glides through the lobby, not even looking at you once, and she picks up a plate of caviar while the Chief Financial Officer, Jimmy, goes to talk to her.

Rio taps her fingers to the rim of the empty glass. “So, I heard Harkness is thinking about acquiring Hex Industries for better tech.”

“Water cooler gossip,” you say dismissively, not wanting to talk anymore business for the day. You’ve done enough with that with Agatha. And then you lower your voice conspiratorially. “But I did hear that Jimmy got divorced again?”

It sends Rio into a fit of giggles and the two of you swap the details you’ve heard from various people and try to piece together what really happened. It does make the party go by faster and before you know it, there’s only about an hour before midnight.

You cannot wait to go home with Agatha and forget all about work and this party and just focus on her. Ever since she changed into the dress she’s wearing tonight, you haven’t been able to focus with how delicious her breasts look in it.

Some might call it an oral fixation, some might call it mommy issues, but there’s no denying how much you love to suck on her nipples. And to eat her out.

Fuck. You can’t be thinking about that. Rio is saying something, something now about Tony, the Chief Operating Officer, and you’re shifting your weight thinking about the sounds Agatha makes when you get your mouth on her.

You look around the room and you find her, standing alone, nursing her own glass of champagne. But what startles you is that she’s already watching you with a strange look on her face. You give her a small smile, your heart filling with adoration for the older woman, but she looks away.

“Will you excuse me for a second?” You say to Rio, who nods. You walk over to Agatha and slide up next to her, your hand brushing against her lower back. “You okay?” You murmur into her ear.

Agatha clears her throat and rolls her shoulders back and you have to make a pointed effort not to stare at her boobs that get pushed forward. “Just ready for this party to be over,” she says, voice clipped.

“Oh yeah?” You whisper, cocking an eyebrow. “What do you have planned for when we get home?”

She looks at you, finally looks at you, and you can see a guarded look in her eye. “We’ve had a long day, and this party won’t be done until after midnight. I’ll probably turn in.”

“Oh, Mommy, your age is showing,” you tease mockingly in a hush, wearing a dramatic pout, another joke about how much older she is that she usually rolls her eyes at and then makes a comment about how much you like it.

But she stiffens today. “Well, you’re more than welcome to go home with Rio if you want someone your own age.” The retort hits you like a punch in the gut and you’re left dumbfounded as she walks away, heels clacking on the floor.

Is she…jealous? Surely Agatha can’t be, she knows how much you want her and love her. She knows how willing you are to show her.

And maybe, just maybe, she’ll let you remind her right now.

You check your watch. Forty-five minutes until midnight. You can feel her gaze from across the room, but when you try to make eye contact, she pretends like she isn’t looking at you, and you make the executive decision to try something that will probably backfire.

Pulling out your phone, you pretend to take a call. You can feel her air shift; she knows that if someone’s calling you this late, it must be something urgent. You nod like you’re listening and then after a minute or two, you put your phone down.

You meet her eyes and tilt your head toward the elevator, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. This could backfire. She could get so mad at you.

But you have to try.

Agatha excuses herself from the small group of people that have congregated around her table and she follows you into the elevator.

“Who was that? What’s wrong?” She demands, and you almost feel bad for making her this panicked.

You shake your head. “Just wait until we get to your office.” You think it should be a hint, but she doesn’t pick up on it. Instead, Agatha chews on her bottom lip and tosses her hair back over her shoulders.

The doors ding open on the sixtieth floor and Agatha trails behind you, hot on your heels, as you take her to her office. You tell her to get on the couch while you draw the blinds to the glass windows facing the interior of the building, just in case anyone should happen to walk by. The television is on outside in the hallway and you can faintly hear the sounds of the New York Ball Drop show. A little over thirty minutes left.

“What is going on?” Agatha asks again, clearly exasperated by you dragging this out.

You turn around and almost moan at the sight of her sitting with her knees pulled up under her and her elbow propped up on the couch. This time, you really can’t help your gaze from darting down to her breasts and she snaps her fingers to get you to focus. “Rio’s just a friend,” you say bluntly, and Agatha scoffs.

“What does this have to do with anything?”

You slowly walk over and kneel down in front of her, pulling her legs out so that her feet are on the floor and you rest your chin on her knee and look up at her through your eyelashes. “There wasn’t a call,” you confess, already wincing on the inside at how she’s going to react. Her face remains stoic. “You were bothered by Rio and I talking.” It’s a statement, not a question.

But Agatha jeers. “Is this your excellent counsel that I pay you so much for? That I’m bothered? Don’t think I don’t know about the little crush she has on you.”

“So what if she has a crush? I don’t like her like that. You know I only have eyes for you,” you say, slowly inching the hem of her dress up her legs, waiting to be rejected.

Her hand slides up your head and fastens into your hair, tilting you back so you can look straight at her. “Oh yeah?” She asks, daring, challenging you to go further.

You swallow hard. “Let me show you?” You offer timidly, praying it’s the right answer and you’re not reading this wrong.

Agatha growls, a guttural noise deep in her throat, and she yanks you up and kisses you, nipping at your bottom lip. Her tongue forces its way into your mouth and you moan at the feeling, settling into her lap with your legs on either side of hers. She tugs at your hair and the sting makes you keen, only making you need her more.

You can’t even wait, you’ve been on edge for too long, and you trail your lips down her neck, scrape your teeth against her collarbone, and then she helps you take the straps of her dress off.

The second her breasts are free, you’re on them like you’re starving and they’re your salvation. You cup both of them with your hands, feeling the sturdy weight of them, and you knead softly, running your thumbs over both nipples. The dusky rose color stands out against her pale skin and you watch with fascination as her nipples harden under your gentle touch. Part of you still can’t believe she’s letting you touch her in the office.

Not that you’re complaining.

You swoop down and take one into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the little bud, and Agatha’s back arches off the couch as her fingers dig into your hair to keep you there. You’ve never felt more content in your life than like this, and you happily suck on her as the most delicious sounding noises fall out of her mouth.

Her free hand finds your hip just as your fingers tug at her nipple that isn’t being occupied by your mouth and you can make out what she wants. Without moving away from her, you shift and place a leg in-between hers, able to feel the heat radiating from her pussy through her underwear and dress.

“Fuck,” you mutter brokenly when she grinds up against your knee and you can feel just how wet she is.

Agatha huffs out a chuckle. “You love sucking on Mommy’s tits so much, don’t you?” She asks and you switch sides and hum against her skin. “Mommy loves it, too.”

You groan and take a break from directly stimulating her, instead, opting to lightly bite at the skin around her nipples, taking extra care to mark the curvature under them. She’s especially sensitive there, and her little gasps only spur you on.

After you’ve left sufficient proof that you were there, you pull back and admire your work and you sharply inhale. Her breasts are absolutely painted with red marks that will surely fade into bruises by tomorrow and her chest heaves, a ragged look in her eyes. Agatha is still undulating against your leg and you can visibly tell how turned on she is.

“Am I convincing you yet?” You ask, your voice coming out a little hoarse, and Agatha barks out a laugh.

Her wicked grin has a thrill running inside you and she shifts underneath you until you figure out what she is trying to do. It’s a bit awkward, but she manages to turn her body so that her legs are on the couch horizontally but you’re still on top of her.

She hums thoughtfully. “Think I might need a little more. If you’re willing, that is.”

Only too willing. You can’t help yourself from leaning down and giving her a hard kiss, pulling away and sucking one nipple and then the other roughly until she moans, and then you move down her body and bunch up her dress at her hips. You put your hands on her shins and guide her legs up so they’re bent, her heels on the couch.

And then you settle between her open legs and mouth at her sopping cunt through her underwear. A groan tears out of you before you can stop it at tasting the wet fabric, thick with her scent which you’ve become addicted to. You suck on her underwear, pulling the moisture out of it, and Agatha jerks underneath you.

“We don’t have all day, pet,” she says tightly and you can hear the television outside saying there’s fifteen minutes left until New Year’s Day.

You chuckle at her impatience and finally pull down her underwear. You wish your dress had pockets so you could store it for later, but you made do for just throwing it somewhere in her office.

And then you drag your tongue up her slit and absolutely lose yourself in the taste. There’s something so indistinguishable and indescribable about it, and you lazily explore her pussy, getting as much of her wetness as you can into your mouth. You vaguely realize that she’s wrapped a leg over your shoulder and her heel is digging in, the sting only turning you on more.

Small gasps are pulled out of Agatha’s mouth and her hips buck, trying to get more stimulation, but to no avail as you are completely focused on just licking her slowly. You moan into her and the vibrations make her whimper, but you almost don’t even hear it. This is your favorite place on earth, between her legs, and you don’t want to ever leave. She’s so warm and wet and responsive against your tongue and you fucking love it. Love getting her wetness all over your face, love feeling her clench around your tongue, love the taste and smell and how she reacts when you lap at her clit.

You do that now, and her thighs tighten around your head and she sighs like she’s finally getting some of the relief that she needs.

“I love your pussy,” you say, but the words are garbled. She lets out a muffled sound and you look up through hooded eyes to see her head strewn back in pleasure, dark hair fanned out beneath her, bottom lip between her teeth, and her fingers tweaking her raw nipples. The sight makes you moan against her again and her hips jump.

She looks down to meet your gaze and you feel the fire inside you only being stoked more when you realize that almost all the blue in her eyes is gone, entirely swallowed up by dark desire. “Please,” she begs, sounding more needy than she ever has since you’ve started sleeping with her. “Mommy needs this so bad.”

And the only thing you love more than tasting her with your mouth is making her cum with your mouth.

So you oblige, thrusting your tongue inside her and almost losing all composure when her walls flutter around it. She lets out a loud whine when your nose brushes against her clit and you keep doing that, curling your tongue inside her and moving your head up and down so she can get some desperately needed stimulation to her clit.

“Fuck, baby, your mouth is so good,” she practically sobs, and you can feel her throb. She never takes long, which is almost a shame because you’d stay between her legs forever if you could. Building her up, feeling her legs tremble around you, that’s half the fun right there.

But she needs it, and you can hear that it’s getting closer to midnight. Only a few minutes left.

You double the intensity, dragging your tongue over her clit again and again, feeling it pulse. You slip a hand between your own legs and groan at the wetness you find, fingers strumming at your own clit through your dress and soaked panties. Nothing gets you more turned on than Agatha’s pussy in your mouth, absolutely coating your face.

She’s pinching her nipples now and you almost lose your rhythm from wishing you were the one doing that to her, but you don’t falter. Wetness is dripping out of her cunt onto the couch below and you almost smirk at the thought of seeing the stain tomorrow.

Agatha better let you fuck her in her office more often. You clench at the thought of being under her desk, eating her out while she’s going through contracts or in a meeting or having lunch. Anytime you can.

“Fuck, fuck, baby,” she chants and you can hear the minute countdown start. You lick and suck and nip and her hips are moving furiously, grinding on your face and you can’t breathe but you don’t even care because she tastes so fucking good.

“Five…four…” You shove your tongue inside her and curl it up, stroking against the spongy spot that makes her gasp. “Three..two…” You scrape your teeth against her clit and she keens. “One…Happy New Year!”

You suck her clit into your mouth hard and that does it. She goes flying over the edge, wetness gushing out onto your face, and you blissfully lick her through her orgasm, not even realizing that she’s too sensitive until she’s tugging at your hair, pulling you away from her.

She brings you in for a kiss, a tradition when the clock strikes midnight on January First, but also something she always does when you eat her out, moaning at the taste of herself on your lips, and you don’t even care that you haven’t cum yet. You clasp her cheeks and your tongue sweeps into her mouth until you finally have to break apart to breathe.

“What a way to start the new year,” you joke and she laughs and fluffs her hair. She looks like a thoroughly-fucked mess, but also the hottest you’ve ever seen. You soften and press a gentle kiss to her lips. “You know I love you, right? I don’t care about how old you are, you know I fucking love that. You don’t have to worry about Rio, or anyone else, no matter if they’re my age or not. I want you and only you.”

Agatha smiles and kisses you again, and then kisses your nose. “I want all your midnight kisses, baby. I love you too.” It’s the most romantic thing she’s ever said.

And of course you immediately have to ruin it with a joke. “Office sex isn’t that bad, hm?” She pokes your side and you giggle.

“Let’s get back downstairs before anyone notices that we’ve been gone for so long,” she says.

You whine but reluctantly get off her when she pats your hips and she finds her underwear that was thrown to the ground. You both fix your make-up in the mirror and then you’re back in the elevator, descending the sixty floors. If anyone asks, you’ll say it was an emergency with an acquisition. But you doubt anyone will. The champagne is flowing and it’s a party.

Before the doors open, Agatha takes your hand, squeezes it three times as if to say I love you and then there’s a ding and it’s back to reality.

But she gives you a wink meant only for you when she toasts to the company and all the good things yet to come and a warm feeling fills you.

What a way to start the new year, indeed.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along

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