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#also its never too late to send me an ask for one of these!!! i love them and also u
goodluckclove · 2 days
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Hi Clove, I have a question. What do you think about using AI like ChatGPT for brainstorming?
I don't mean making it do everything for you but using it as a crutch. I'm a pantser at heart, but as someone whose brain can't put two coherent thoughts together, I find the process of making my thoughts legible almost impossible.
Can AI be helpful like this, or is it really not a good idea? In any case, I'm probably robbing myself of learning experience by taking shortcuts. Thoughts?
~ defeatistwriter (can't send this from my sideblog RIP)
Hi Deffy!
So I'm going to be outright and say I'm heavily biased against the use of AI in writing. I was a copywriter in a marketing agency that decided to nearly fully incorporate early ChatGPT into our workflow, essentially reducing my job from writing to just prompting. I have firsthand experience in knowing how faulty and just plain frustrating language models can be. It disgusted me so much that I quit the stable office job and started making sandwiches at the grocery store.
At the same time, I know this situation has nuance. People are using AI in creative writing more and more, and for a lot of them I can see why. Ideas can be hard to parse. I can feasibly see someone using AI as a jumping off point for their creative work in a way that still involves effort and human insight. And while i told myself I would never do this again, I respect you as a creator and I want to give an honest attempt to understand where you're coming from before I just go AI BAD.
So this is going to be a long one.
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Let's fucking go.
So I started simple by asking Chat for an idea for a horror story. This is what it came up with:
How about this: The Forgotten Town: In the heart of the Appalachian Mountains lies a forgotten town, its existence erased from maps and memories. Decades ago, a tragedy befell the town when a series of unexplained disappearances occurred, leading to its abandonment. Years later, a group of urban explorers stumbles upon the town, intrigued by its mysterious past. As they venture deeper into its deserted streets, they uncover disturbing clues hinting at a dark secret hidden beneath the surface. Soon, they realize they are not alone in the town, and something malevolent lurks in the shadows, preying on anyone who dares to uncover its secrets. As night falls and their numbers dwindle, they must race against time to unravel the town's horrifying truth before they become its next victims.
Yeah that's - fine? It's fine. It's fine. But it's also a little more detailed than I would prefer to make something that's actually my idea (Of course, I could just only use a fraction of this). I know phrasing makes a big difference with language models, so I asked again and instead of "idea" I said "concept".
How about this concept: The Whispering Woods: Deep within a remote forest lies a grove where the trees seem to whisper secrets to those who dare to listen. Legend has it that the grove is cursed, haunted by the spirits of those who lost their way in the woods. When a group of hikers decides to camp in the forest, they stumble upon the grove and are drawn in by its eerie tranquility. But as night falls, they begin to hear whispers in the wind, voices from beyond the grave urging them to leave before it's too late. Ignoring the warnings, they soon find themselves trapped in a waking nightmare as the forest comes alive with unseen terrors. Each step deeper into the woods leads them closer to the truth behind the curse, but also closer to their own demise. Will they uncover the secrets of the Whispering Woods, or will they become just another tale whispered among the trees?
Wow. it's the same response format. Also, it's clear by now that Chat's concept of horror as a genre is drastically reduced into what if something happened, but it was scary? So maybe horror is not the right genre. Let's try romance!
I tried asking it for possible meet-cute scenarios. Let's see what it comes up with.
Certainly! Here are two more meet-cutes for a romantic story: Shared Adventure: The protagonists find themselves on the same guided tour of an ancient castle or historical landmark. As they explore the winding corridors and hidden chambers together, they bond over their shared fascination with history and archaeology. Their mutual curiosity sparks a series of lighthearted adventures as they playfully race to uncover the secrets of the castle, all the while growing closer with each passing moment. Chance Encounter at a Farmer's Market: Amidst the bustling stalls of a local farmer's market, the protagonists accidentally collide while reaching for the same ripe fruit or artisanal cheese. Their initial embarrassment quickly turns into laughter as they help each other gather up their fallen purchases. They strike up a conversation about their favorite local foods and recipes, and before they know it, they're sharing a picnic lunch together, surrounded by the vibrant sights and sounds of the market.
Notice how Chat said that it was giving me two more meet-cutes? That's because I cycled through about ten to find two that weren't just...boring. Like imagine you asked a couple how they met and they were like we wanted the same cheese. I'm sure it happens, but like...ugh. No.
Let's try a setting.
Cozy Coastal Town: Set in a quaint coastal town nestled between rugged cliffs and a picturesque shoreline, this setting offers a charming backdrop for a romantic story. The town is known for its cobblestone streets lined with colorful cottages, bustling seaside cafes, and breathtaking views of the ocean. With its laid-back atmosphere and friendly locals, it's the perfect place for the protagonists to escape the hustle and bustle of city life and discover each other amidst the soothing sound of crashing waves and salty sea air. As they explore the town's hidden gems together, from secluded beaches to cliffside trails, they find themselves falling in love amidst the beauty of the coastal landscape.
This is something. This is a description of a location. What I'm not a fan of is how just basic it is. Wouldn't a romantic story be more interesting if it took place someplace you wouldn't expect? Also, fun fact, Chat reused hustle and bustle of city life from a previous meet-cute prompt because language models are hack writers.
Subterranean City: Beneath the bustling streets of a modern metropolis lies a hidden world—a sprawling network of tunnels and chambers that form an ancient subterranean city. Discovered during the excavation for a new subway line, this forgotten underground realm is filled with mysterious ruins, luminescent fungi, and underground rivers. The protagonists, drawn together by their shared fascination with archaeology and exploration, embark on a journey to uncover the secrets of this hidden city. As they navigate the labyrinthine passages and encounter ancient artifacts, they find themselves drawn to each other amidst the ancient wonders and dangers lurking in the depths below. Amidst the echoes of the past and the glow of bioluminescent flora, they discover that love can flourish in the most unexpected of places.
You know what? I'll give it to you, Chat, this is a more unexpected location for a romantic story. It's also such an insane overcorrection that I have no idea what to do with it. My options here are either the movie adaption of Mamma Mia or some sewer person love story? That's the scope, here?
I'll do one more before I get to my final point. Many romantics stories have that archetypal misunderstanding, right? Can ChatGPT think of something like that?
Assumed Identity: Due to a case of mistaken identity, one protagonist, Jamie, believes that the other protagonist, Jordan, is already in a relationship with someone else. Unbeknownst to Jamie, Jordan was merely helping a friend and is actually single. This misunderstanding creates a barrier between them as Jamie tries to suppress their growing feelings for Jordan, believing that they are unrequited.
Wow. Holy fuck.
Here's the thing, Deffy. I know this probably isn't how you brainstorm. I gave it an honest shot, and now I think I can honestly say in good faith that you are a better writer than ChatGPT. You are smarter than ChatGPT. You are more creative than some language model that can only spit out what it's data-munched off the internet.
The thing about these language models is that, at least in creative writing, they have yet to produce an original concept with nuance. They can't. The software says variations of what it's seen online. In earlier versions I told my team they had to search answers to make sure they weren't outright stolen verbatim from other sources.
You've seen that Assumed Identity answer in like a billion romcoms. Same with meetings that start with two people reaching for the same anything - which, by the way, I would just let them take it and move on with my day. I'm socially awkward I'm not about to flirt with someone when I think I almost stole their cheese or pastry. Even with the ideas like the spooky abandoned Appalachian town that might not specifically be from one thing, doesn't it kind of sound like it could kind of be from like a bunch of things?
This is not me roasting you. You are not a bad person for wanting to do this. You want to write and I know can write. I legitimately don't believe you when you say you can't form a cohesive idea and if you need it I'm happy to talk you through at least creating enough of a concept to write something.
If you need to brainstorm, there are better ways to do it. Writing a horror story? There are Youtube channels that document real-life horrors - and not just exploitative true crime stuff, I'm talking niche lost media disasters, online mysteries, the kind of tragedies that are otherwise unspoken of. Want to write a romance? Maybe scroll Reddit's various relationship boards to get some voyeuristic inspiration into the trials and successes of various kinds of love.
Have no fucking clue what to write? Find inspiration in your favorite media property. Write a version of you that isn't you and change the outcome of a moment from your past, good or bad. Write a story about a mouse birthday party. Shortcuts aren't always a bad thing, Deffy, but you're capable of far more than i think you expect of yourself.
Fuck ChatGPT, by the way. Never again.
Okay one more.
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sick fuck yeah.
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fakeoutbf · 19 days
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five stages of grief but it’s five stages of social anxiety
#walk with me#this morning i got a bouquet delivered to me at work randomly out of nowhere#the note basically said that i could count of the person even if for just some words of advice or a gesture that could make me laugh or mad#count on the person**#i immediately knew it’s from one of my coworkers and ngl i have a very charged?? relationship with them#in the sense that it’s very intense and we can be laughing joking and teasing or we can be really angry and pissed with each other#it can have very extreme emotions even if we just chill most of the time#idk why i think this whole year i’ve been leaning on them more?? and we started texting more often too#so we’ve been more properly friends lately#and for one i was SO EMBARRASSED for getting flowers bc my coworkers tease the shit out of everyone myself included and i’m not used to#gestures like that so obviously they were on my ass all day about it#and everyone asked about them and it’s EMBARRASSING to get that much attention#(me: i wanna be a singer / also me: can’t stand to be the center of attention)#anyway the person that sent them avoided me yesterday out of nowhere??? idk if they thought i was mad bc i didn’t reply to their texts all#weekend but i literally never reply to anyone and pms was a bitch and i just wanted to be alone#so they didn’t talk to me on monday i was mostly just working listening to music bc i was still emotional whatever#and today i did talk to my other coworkers bc it’s the day when my favorite coworker comes in and i talk to them a lot so i engaged more#and they were still ignoring me and then the flowers came in and we didn’t say a single word to each other today we just texted#they told me they sent them and that ‘they forgot’ what they sent and that it was just meant to be a nice gesture#and that bc they wanted to ‘surprise’ me and make me feel better bc i said i was sad at one point?? idek#i literally just want to tell them I HAD PMS ITS FINE I FEEL SUICIDAL ALL THE TIME and move on#bc now i’m second guessing everything they’re saying bc i thought we were friends and there’s no reason why friends can’t send each other#flowers or whatever but they’ve been avoiding me and then they keep answering my texts really weirdly and i always misinterpret flirting bc#i’m never outright romantic with anyone?? plus we’re FRIENDS i should have no reason to think that’s changed#but they’re being so weird and why get me FLOWERS??? idk get me a chocolate or a coffee i don’t NEED flowers#and then i said it was random to give me flowers out of nowhere and they’re like no it’s serious bro what’s serious??????#your feelings towards me?? or just your will to cheer me up???#if they don’t reply straight up in their next texts i’m gonna flat out say but it was a platonic gesture right???#so yeah i’m overthink getting flowers bc what’s the social code for that and what is one supposed to do when they get flowers from a friend#delivered to their joint workplace where everyone can see them and think they’re from a partner or something
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vaugarde · 1 year
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why is giving family members a small wishlist so much more tedious than it has to be
#me: hey heres my wishlist its in an email can you also forward it#them: yeah sure but uh you cant have anything thats not on amazon bc we dont know how to use other sites#me: wdym its the same process#them: well its more complicated oh my god we are older we dont understand#me: well ok. ill find alternatives where i can#them: wait can you just let us edit our own wishlist with what you want?#me:... why cant you use the one i sent?#them: BECAUSE it is too much ok pls just send a couple of things#(the list only has like 8 things and two are gift cards)#me: well. fine heres two things i really want#them: hm. are you sure you want that? it doesnt cost a lot#me: yes. i dont like asking for expensive things that arent games we have been over this.#them: well put something more expensive on there then we just feel bad getting you a cheap thing bc then we think youre worth less#me: .... ok heres one of those custom pokemon shirts just bc i think theyre neat#them: OH MY GOD THATS SO EXPENSIVE we are not wasting our money on that.#me: ... ok can i have the games then?#them: sure. god why are you so hard to buy for youre sooooo weird about gifts#for extra context: my brothers and cousins ask for over $100 worth of stuff and usually get all of it and more#and its not like im ungrateful either i never snap at them or anything. i usually ask for practical stuff or aesthetics like stickers#when its not books or games... but theyve gotten more passive aggressive lately i think#for my bday most ppl werent weird but my aunt made a big deal out of getting me a $20 sweater i couldnt wear#bc of the texture and size not working for me. and like loudly emphasizing ''OH GOD DONT LOOK AT THE PRIIIICE UGH IM SO MEAN''#all the while im being polite and thanking her and shes just freaking out at me for ''being hard to buy for''#and being ''forced to buy me something so gross and cheap'' like it felt like a weird power move#echoed voice
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lunar-fey · 1 year
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💕 What's your favorite thing about FFVII or surrounding games?
i think cloud is so funny. i really need to play ffvii fully one of these days (perhaps the remake when its done) and i'm not entirely sure the pace or extent to which they reveal this in main game, but going into crisis core with my only knowledge of cloud being "he's the really special cool protagonist guy who has like a soul bond with sephiroth and Has To Defeat Him as like a metaphor for personal demons or like the horrors of what capitalism can create or something" and then finding out he's literally just some guy with every mental illness ever. instantly he became one of my favorite protagonists of anything ever. they really did that! AND he's a drug addict <3
special interest asks
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totheblood · 10 days
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shiver | s.r.
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pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: spencer would do anything for you, but doesn't understand why you have pulled away from him.
warnings: angst, avoidant!reader
a/n: gonna be so honest i wanted this to be a series but i ended up hating it like 2k words in so that's why the end is so good... if people like it i will do a part two but oh my god its so bad and rushed towards the end... but this one is for my avoidantly attached girlies!! i see u and i love u and i am also sorry.. reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses.. PLEASE SEND SPENCER REQUESTSS!!!
wc: 3.1k
"So I look in your direction But you pay me no attention, do you?."
The hum of the air condition rang through the bullpen as Spencer studied you from his desk. With your hand in your hair, absentmindedly reading files with your body slumped forward, you looked unbelievably and unmistakably tired.
 It was another late night doing paperwork from last week's case, and nearly everyone was running on caffeine and pure luck. Spencer had finished his work an hour, thirty four minutes, and eight seconds ago but he still found himself glued to his chair and taking on JJ’s leftover work. All so he could silently watch over you from his desk. 
He didn't quite understand his fascination with you. It was almost embarrassing how he hung onto your every word you said, willing to do any and everything you wanted him to. But it was more embarrassing that you never paid him that same attention. Well, that wasn't completely true when he first met you, but as the months went on he could feel your attention from him drifting. 
When you first started at the BAU last year you were shy and timid, but Spencer noticed the small chuckles that escaped from your lips at his complex jokes and how your eyes watched him as he spewed some random fact that the rest of the team groaned at. You used to hang onto every word he said, asking him follow up questions with your pupils dilated. 
It was natural how you gravitated towards him. He was the only one on the team remotely close to your age, and like you, he was a bonafide genius. But you always wanted to know more and he always wanted to tell you more. It was innocent and pure, the way he thought about you, until you started to pull away. 
Spencer knew the chemical reaction that occurs in the brain when someone who used to give you attention pulls away. It creates a pattern similar to drug addiction, something he was all too familiar with, and it had started to get all too familiar for him to know how to properly deal with it. It had reached the point where he was counting each glance you gave him, the small way the corners of your mouth quirked up when you spoke to him, and even to the point where he was keeping track of how many words you uttered to him daily. 
He tracked it too. Your conversations with him had been on a steep decline since February, and now in late May he found himself wondering what he had done wrong. He had known the path he was leading himself down was one he shouldn't continue, but he couldn't care. His brain was operating for him, and he was succumbing to his worst fears. 
His brain made any attempts to rationalize your behavior, none of which calmed his anxiety. Maybe he was too clingy, always opting to sit next to you on the jet, or partner up with you in the field. Maybe he had said the wrong thing, something that made you immediately sick of him. Maybe you started seeing someone. The last one bothered Spencer the most, but he couldn't understand why. 
Spencer did everything he could to convince himself he didn't have a crush on you. As juvenile as it sounds was as juvenile as he felt every time his cheeks tinged pink when you spoke to him. He tried to convince himself that he didn't actually ‘like’ you, he just was preoccupied with you. It was your behavior that triggered his attachment style, it wasn't that he liked you. 
And as much as he wanted it to be true, he knew it wasn't. He was infatuated the moment he met you. Spencer knew he could never forget anything, but he knew for sure he would never forget your face. He traced in his mind over and over again, the way your whole face lit up when you ate something sugary, how your eyes blinked up at him when you spoke, and how you would drag your teeth in between your lips whenever you were focused. He'd find himself finding any excuse to be close to you. 
Spencer had once made a vow to himself that he would never pretend to be stupid. Not for anyone, and especially not for a girl. Which is why he almost physically smacked himself when he pretended to not have read a book by Jane Austen just so he could have something to talk to you about. He had read her entire collection when he was eight, yet he still found himself agreeing to read it and tell you how he liked it. He never forgot a word of the book “Emma,” but he still found himself rereading it for you. That was how much power you had over him. A power you seemed to be unaware of. 
6 months ago - November
“So, did you read it?” you questioned, arm pressing into the hardword of his desk, eyes wide and waiting. He didn't notice you at first, which was a first for him, making him jump as he turned to face you. 
“I did,” he answered, lips in a tight smile as he set his pen down, “I still have no idea why everyone seems to love Mr. Knightley. He strikes me as being a bully. I liked Frank Churchill far more.”
“Please,” you scoff rolling your eyes, “Churchill, seriously? All he had were his good looks. He was a total ass!” Your use of ‘ass’ earned a genuine smile from Spencer, whos eyes lit up as he spoke. 
“He wasn’t the most sincere,” he starts, shaking his head, “but he still had a far better personality than Knightley. I’d sooner date Frank Churchill over Mr Knightley. At least Frank had a sense of humor.”
“That's true, I guess,” you agreed looking down at his pristine desk. All he had on it were closed case files and a framed photograph of him and the team on it. You weren't in it but you studied it quickly, noticing how Spencer stared a brunette in the picture. Whoever it was, he was looking at her like she held the world in her hands. You would be lying if you said it didn't sting. As if he could sense you deflate he sat up straighter, following your vision to the picture on his desk. 
“We have to take a new one-” he rushed out quickly, causing your eyes to snap back to him, “You know, one with you… in it,” He pursed his lips nodding as he spoke again, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, “You know cause now you're part of the team and this picture is old anyways. From when I first started here and as you can tell, I look completely different and it's time I updated it.”
“Who’s she?” you asked, finger pointing directly to Elle’s face. As you spoke you watched for any clues that would give you insight on how he felt about her. 
“Oh, Elle,” the way he said it made him sound defeated, like he forgot that she was in the picture, even though you knew that wasn't the case, “she used to work here, but, uh, she left.”
“You guys were close?” you questioned him, eyebrows raised as you watched him glance over at the picture before leaning back in his chair and putting all his focus on you. 
“Yeah,” he sighed, “we were, but…” his voice trailed off, as looked down at his feet, “we're not in contact anymore. She hasn't really spoken to any of us since she left,” 
“Oh,” you sighed out. You wanted to be upset that it was obvious he was enamored with her, but you just felt bad. The way his whole demeanor changed as he spoke made you feel more upset than anything, “I’m sorry,”
“It’s okay,” his eyes darted back up to you as his tight-lipped smile reappeared. He glanced back at his desk, before turning his body away from you, “I, uh, have some work I should get back to, though,”
“Yeah,” you smiled, standing up straight as you prepared yourself to turn around. You wanted to say something, anything, but you didn't. You just turned around and went back to your desk, something stinging brewing in your chest. 
Present Day
Spencer thought back to that day, wondering if his change in disposition is what made you change. It rang through his head as he tapped his foot, eyes trained on you. He was lost in thought when your eyes snapped up towards him, making him flinch. You offered him a small smile but it hadn't reached your eyes before looking back down at your work. 
The interaction made him decide that it was time to go home. That him sitting and staring was doing nothing for him or you. Standing up, he slung his messenger bag across his body, goodbyes prepared on the tip of his tongue. As he was about to speak Hotch exited his office, eyes meeting sympathetically with Spencer’s as he entered the bullpen. 
“We have a case,” Hotch announced, “I need everyone in the conference room in ten.” 
As the team flooded into the conference room, Spencer hung back, watching as you collected your things and trailed behind the rest of the team with a stack of files in your arms. 
“Need help with th-” Spencer began, arms outstretched towards you.
“No,” you replied abruptly, “I’m fine.”
It came out colder than you would have liked, causing Spencer to shiver, purse his lips and head into the conference room with his head hung low. 
“Our first victim was 35-year-old Leonardo Ruiz,” Garcia started, remote in hand clicking to display the picture of the mutilated man with his hands bound by rope and publicly displayed hanging from trees. Almost instinctively you flinch. You know it's the job but it never gets easy seeing the images. The man's face was distorted, slashed repeatedly with a knife until he became unrecognizable.
“He was reported missing after failing to report to his shift,” another click of the camera to show the abandoned patrol car, with the door open, it was obvious there had been a struggle, “His patrol car was found 2 miles from where his body was found in Arlington, where there appeared to be a struggle. Ruiz was missing for approximately two days before his body was discovered.”
“There was no dash cam footage from the patrol car?” Rossi asks from his chair, leaning forward as Garcia clicks the remote again.
“Exactly what I thought, but here's the creepy bit: There is no sign of another person on the dashcam footage. He doesn't even mention seeing another person, you can't hear the struggle, in fact there is no audio on the footage at all. Because three days before Ruiz went missing, his dashcam footage lost all audio. He reported it to the department and they were going to look into it but they were unable to fix it before Ruiz was taken,” Garcia answers, sending a chill down your spine. 
“So this was premeditated,” you speak up, causing everyone to look at you, including Spencer. You were still finding your footing in the group, trying to be useful to the group without saying the wrong thing, “The unsub is patient, willingly waiting for a perfect moment to strike. Could be revenge,”
“You're on the right track, pumpkin,” Garcia starts clicking another picture onto the screen, “That leads us to our next victim, Detective Luther Hodges from a different precinct was abducted from his home, reported missing for two days before he was found in the same way as our last victim in a public park,” Garcia herself winces as she looks at the pictures of the body strung up to a children's playground, “However this time our unsub left a witness, Hodge’s seven year old daughter, Lucy,” 
“If he left her as a witness, it could mean that he used her as a way to get him to leave willingly,” Spencer started, eyes squinting as he viewed the screen, “or he’s simply… devolving,”
“You’re absolutely right, boy genius,” Garcia starts, clicking the remote again to reveal a final body, causing the group to gasp. On the screen was Federal Agent Angela Barnett in the same position as the others. “One of our own, Angela Barnett was taken from a grocery store she frequented, and only kept one day before she was found in this state.”
“He’s devolving and rapidly,” Hotch says, closing his file and standing up, “Garcia contact MPD and let them know we're coming,” he commands, causing Garcia to nod a quick “yes, sir,” before rushing out the office, “I want to be out of here in ten,” he instructs the group, resulting in nods as everyone stands and begins collecting their things. 
“Hey,” Spencer calls from beside you gently, his voice close to being a whisper, “do you want to ride with me? I just got this new audiobook on the evolving traditions of the Amish and Mennonites on the East Coast,” he offers you a small smile that you can't help but mirror. 
“Oh, uh,” you look down, you know you’ve been pulling away but you can't help it, “Yeah, that sounds… interesting,”
Spencer can't help the grin that spreads across his face as he nods gently, cheeks tinged pink as he picks up his bag from the floor, “Great, I’ll see you then.”
The car ride was awkward to say the least, Spencer glancing over at you every five seconds as you started out the window, watching the passing trees. You drowned out the audiobook, too focused on wanting the car ride to be over that you didn't notice when Spencer had cut it off. 
“Is everything okay?” He spoke up, fingers tapping at the steering wheel as he kept his vision focused on the road. 
“Yeah,” you sat up, looking over at him and scratching the back of your neck, “I’m fine,”
“Are you sure?” he asked again, “You’ve just been… different with me. If I did anything, I’m sor-”
“You didn't do anything,” you cut him off, “I didn't realize I had been acting different,” you lied quickly, earning a scoff from him, “What?”
“The amount of conversations we have daily has been on the decline since February, decreasing by 4 percent daily in the last two weeks,” Spencer let slip casually, his own tone colder than intended, “Hard thing to not realize, especially for someone like you,”
“Someone like me?” You questioned, arms crossing defensively across your chest. 
“Someone smart,” Spencer looked over at you, “And I’m not stupid either, by the way. I would appreciate it if you just told me you didn't want to be friends outside of work instead of avoiding me like I’m the plague.”
You were silent for a beat, looking down at your hands, fingers intertwined with each other. You never understood why you got this way, why romantic feelings caused you to turn in on yourself. All you wanted to do was run, jump out of the car, scream, so you did the next best thing, “I’d prefer if we kept our relationship strictly professional,” your voice came out quieter than you would have liked. 
Spencer felt his stomach drop as his breath caught in his throat. He ignored the stinging in his eyes as he cleared his throat, swallowing harshly before replying, “Okay.”
The rest of the ride was uneventful, Spencer turned back on the audiobook and you allowed the blood to rush to your ears, drowning out the rest of the noise. The night was much busier than anticipated, all law enforcement officers on edge with the rise of a serial killer that put targets on their back. 
You spent a majority of the case avoiding Spencer, opting to partner with Derek on interviewing witnesses while JJ and Spencer built a geographical profile. When it was time to deliver the profile, you stayed back, only offering minimal input. 
Then, you found him: Jacob Raines. Jacob Raines had been a former police officer who was let go due to his use of excessive force and brutality. His rage and anger in turn got geared towards law enforcement, blaming them for his pitfalls. 
Garcia found an abandoned warehouse registered in his name in the outskirts of the city, where he was most likely keeping his victims before murdering him. The team dispatched to the warehouse, with you, Spencer and Morgan, entering first. 
You wouldn't have entered without backup if it wasn't for the sounds of screams coming from inside, and Spencer rushing in first. As if on instinct you followed after him, gun raised as you cleared behind him towards the screams. In the middle of the warehouse was a police officer still in uniform, tied to a chair with a tear stained face. She was crying as she plead for Spencer to untie her. As he worked to undo the knots you heard footsteps, causing you and Spencer to stand up abruptly. In front of Spencer was a 6 foot man, weapon raised and aimed right at him with his finger on the trigger. Based on the profile, you knew he would shoot and you knew he wouldn't think twice. He planned this, he knew the BAU would come for him and he wanted to take out as many people as he could. 
As if on instinct you pushed Spencer out of the way, a bullet aimed for his kelvar vest had made impact with your shoulder, piercing through it as you hit the cold concrete. Spencer was stunned but got up in enough time to take three shots at the unsub who had his weapon aimed and ready to shoot again. The unsub fell with a loud thud, but Spencer turned back to lean down next to your body that was growing increasingly colder. A puddle of blood had began to form underneath you and while it was clear it didn't hit any major organs, you were still bleeding out rapidly. 
Through the ringing in your ears you could here Spencer’s pained and rush voice signal over the radio, “Officer down, need medical, gunshot wound to the shoulder.”
His voice and hands were shaking as he applied pressure to the wound with his palm, as he urged you, “keep your eyes open,” he pleaded with you, “just stay awake until they get here,” he begged. But you were so tired, and your eyes were getting heavier, so you let them close. 
And everything went black. 
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wileys-russo · 3 months
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hihi idk if youre taking requests but i had an idea for leah kinda inspired by sockgate (💀)
so basically r plays for arsenal and theyre having kit photoshoots but the kit person accidentally forgot r’s (obviously the photoshoot isnt in colney) so she has to wear leah’s kit because r’s number is 5 and leah’s is 6 so it would be easier to edit and change the number like on the shorts (just say they didnt take any photos of her back because it would be too hard to change the name or something) ANYWAY leah is eating it up seeing r in her kit (especially if it’s like kind of big on her)
and then idk how you want to end it but maybe after the edited pictures are posted, leah cant help herself and also posts the original ones where you can see it’s her kit or something
love your writing <3
the sockgate trauma...never again the new number 6 II l.williamson
"leah catherine if you make us late again you're sleeping on the sofa tonight!" you yelled out impatiently, checking the time and rolling your eyes. "two minutes babe!" your girlfriend called back as you groaned in disbelief.
"they're dressing us and doing hair and makeup there leah, what is taking you so long?" you dropped your bag to the ground and stomped off to the bedroom. "no don't come in i'm-" you pushed open the door and your eyes widened at the sight in front of you.
"tell me that you are not doing a soduku right now." you spoke deathly calm, eyes locked with hers and narrowing. "would that make you feel better?" leah questioned with a charming smile, sat on the corner of the bed.
but the tinkling of her game gave it away as your eye twitched slightly and leah laughed nervously. "leah, i will be waiting in the car. if you do not join me in exactly two minutes, that thing you've been wanting to do?" you stated as leah nodded along.
"you can do it to yourself and this-" you gestured to your body. "-will be off limits, for a week." you warned seriously as leah scoffed and went to speak.
"a whole week williamson, shift it!" you cut her off sternly, turning on heel and marching out of the bedroom hearing your girlfriend trip over with a curse in her haste to hurry.
"ah fuck." you heard a thump and before you could even open the car door leah was skidding to your side, grabbing it for you. "after you darling." she grinned as you hummed and slid inside, tossing your bag in the back as she hurried around to her side.
~
"babe why aren't you dressed?" leah frowned as she returned to the change rooms, having finished with her own media promotion and asked to let you know they were ready for you now.
"they didn't bring my kit. there was a typo on the schedule and they thought less was coming so they've got 23 and not 5." you sighed in explanation as your girlfriend took a seat beside you.
"they just told me to wear your kit, 6 is easier to photoshop to 5 since its one number and not two like 23 is." you shrugged as leahs eyebrows shot upward. "leah." you sighed tiredly at the familiar look which settled on her face as she sat down beside you.
"be an adult and go change, now please." you ducked away from her arm which attempted to slip over your shoulders, standing up and crossing your arms across your chest. "have i ever told you just how sexy you look when you're pissed with me?" leah sighed with a dopey smile.
"yes. you make a point to remind me every time you grovel after you've pissed me off!" you threw a towel at her head and sat back down at your cubby. "no, go change baby." your foot shot up to press against her as she stood and attempted to get closer.
"reminds me of a different position baby, one i quite like." leah grinned wolfishly as she pulled your leg to sit on top of her shoulder and kissed your ankle with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
"you already made me late once this morning and you're doing it again. go and change leah please!" you groaned pulling your leg back and sending her a stern look.
"i know you think this is going to work but this whole annoyed look-" leah wiggled her fingers at you "-is just making it all the more harder to leave you." leah smirked as you rolled your eyes and exhaled deeply.
"alright alright! i'm going. a girl knows where she isn't wanted!" leah spoke dramatically clutching at her chest, ducking down and stealing a kiss. "unless you'd like me to just change here and we can-" leah started to suggest but a dead panned glare had her grabbing her bag and hurrying away toward the showers.
"here you go then sunshine." a bundle of clothes hit you square in the face as you'd started to daydream only a few moments later, leah changed back into the clothes she'd arrived in.
"you are so-" you stopped yourself, leah sending you a smirk and sitting down on the bench. "eyes and hands inside the ride at all times williamson, i'm on a schedule." you warned as you started to strip off and change, feeling your girlfriends gaze locked onto you.
"leah!" you huffed as you pulled her shirt down over your head and her hand smacked against your ass. "what? it slipped babe." leah shrugged with an innocent smile as you rolled your eyes and pulled on her shorts having to roll the waistband a little so they didn't hang so low, already having your boots and socks on.
"wait! you're missing something." leah shot to her feet as you fixed your hair and turned to leave, pausing with a raised eyebrow. your lips couldn't help but curl into a small smile as leahs own pressed sweetly against them.
"sap." you teased, pecking her lips a few more times before heading out of the change rooms hearing her follow after you. "behave leah." you warned seriously as she held up her hands with a wink and you pushed your way into the media room.
"well well well if it isn't our newest number six!" beth teased as she finished up and immediately noticed that you weren't in your own number. "call me vice captain." you grinned, hugging her as you swapped positions and she spoke briefly with your girlfriend before leaving the room.
"so we're mostly shooting graphics for the screens and the lineups today, some celebrations, some serious shots. we'll do everything forward facing since there was some...issues, sorry about that again." jessica the marketing and media admin smiled apologetically.
"you're just lucky i was around to save the day jess." leah chimed in as jess shot her a playful glare and stepped back, calling out a few poses as the photographer snapped away and you moved between the different backdrops.
much as you tried your hardest to stay focused there was no avoiding the shit eating grin plastered on your girlfriends face as she sat back with arms crossed, eyes laser focused on your every move.
leah wasn't shy about how much she adored you, that was given by the constant teasings of the pining looks she threw your way during trainings or the not to subtle kisses she stole what felt like every few minutes.
leah was even less shy about how much she adored the sight of you in her clothes. early on in the relationship she did find it somewhat frustrating how you'd sneak off with her hoodies or shirts or pants hidden away in your overnight bag.
but seeing you wander around colney with what leah knew was her nike hoodie covering your top half had something stirring in her stomach she couldn't ignore.
your girlfriend by nature could be possessive, though most times it never came from jealousy knowing you were just as much as infatuated with her as she was with you, but rather that solidifying assurance that you were hers.
so as she sat there seeing you take picture after picture wearing her name, number and jersey leah was grinning ear to ear and there wasn't much which could be said to wipe it off.
"all good?" you questioned once it seemed things were wrapped up, sending both him and jess a thumbs up and stepping away, boots clacking against the hard cement floor and shaking your head at the look on leahs face.
"don't say it." you warned, snatching your jacket out of her hands and making a beeline out of the room as she hurried to follow you. "leah!" you laughed as she caught up and grabbed your hand, pushing you against a wall.
"you're like a horny teenager." you chuckled against her lips which immediately ravaged yours, her hands gripping your hips as you cupped her face and deepened the kiss.
"baby girl you know what it does to me to see you in my clothes, let alone wearing my last name on your back." leah pulled away and shook her head, making a mind blown gesture with her hands causing you to laugh again and shove her.
"we're at work miss williamson, be professional." you booped her nose and darted away as leahs kiss met thin air and she watched you dissapear into the change rooms.
"oh but miss williamson all my thoughts right now are strictly unprofessional." leah sang out happily with a cheeky grin as you shook your head. "no ring, no wife." you patted her cheek and held up your empty hand causing leah to now shake her head.
"oh no no no, no need to change my girl." leah swiftly grabbed your bag, stuffing your clothes back in and slinging it over her shoulder, holding out her hand for you to take with a sly smile.
"its time for me to make our new number six feel very very very welcome."
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siriuslovebot · 11 months
Text
˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪ 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒆𝒇 ➸ 𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: smut (18+, minors dni!), oral (f!receiving), shy!reader, unprotected sex, praise kink (kinda), some teasing, dirty talk, etc.
𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: sirius really likes it when the reader wears his clothes.
𝑨/𝑵: hi everyone! i’m very excited for my first post on this blog. please go easy on me as i’m a bit rusty when it comes to writing (also this is completely unedited, so apologies in advance for any mistakes). i’m still deciding how i want to format these posts, so forgive me if it’s a bit of an eyesore. i also accidentally posted this on my main at first, so if you saw that... no you didn’t ;) as always, lowercase is intended. feel free to send me a request if you like. feedback is always appreciated!
𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 3.1k 𓂃♡₊⭑
·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺
       “is that my shirt, dove?”
       the low, silken gravel of his tired voice startles you as you sit perched in the little window seat of your shared bedroom, the window thrust open to let the night breeze in.
       “hmmm?” you muse, distracted as you slowly paint a top coat on your toenails. you fan them with one hand as you glance behind you. sirius stands in the doorway, lithe figure leaned against the frame as he watches you. his shirtsleeves are rolled up over his forearms, hair skirting his shoulders messily, eyes foggy from a long day at work. a soft smile plays over his lips, quieter than his usual wide, wolfish grin.
       he nods towards his shirt draped over your frame, the fabric pooling around your hips to expose the fabric of your panties. “been looking for that all over,” he says simply.
       you make a sheepish face, twisting the cap onto the bottle of nail polish. “‘m sorry,” you mutter, smiling apologetically. you turn towards him, bare legs dangling over the edge of the seat. you are a sight for sore eyes; his gaze trails over your exposed skin, eyes darkening as they trace your figure draped in his shirt. a warmth blooms in your stomach as you watch him watch you. the look is familiar–though it never fails to send your chest aflutter.
       “want me to take it off?” you ask, mostly because you’re at the point where it’s getting hard not to squirm beneath his hungry gaze. the silence is deafening, unspoken words bubbling to the surface. you have the sudden feeling that sirius may not be as tired from work as you thought.
       “not at all.” there’s that mischievous glint behind his eyes, darkening the clear grey to a stormy shade. you sit another second, skin burning as his eyes rake over you, and then you stand and pad over to your vanity.
        sirius should be getting undressed, preparing for bed. he’s too busy watching you. his eyes skirt over the curve of one bare shoulder as you return the little bottle of polish to its rightful place. you swipe a hand through your mussed hair, trying to ignore his attention. he always knows how to get you squirming, the easiest ways to set your cheeks alight with embarrassment. he lives for it, watching his shy girl crumble between his fingers.
       it seems he can’t contain himself any longer as he approaches you, fingers sidling up beneath the hem of the shirt. his lips are on you in an instant, pressing gently against that irresistible patch of exposed skin on your shoulder. a sigh falls from your lips and you melt into his touch. you close your eyes. his calloused palms knead over the flesh of your hips, earning a soft groan from you.
        he smirks against your skin. “quiet tonight, hmm?” his breath fans along your neck as he kisses up towards your ear. goosebumps rise on your skin, a shiver threatening to snake down your spine.
        “it’s late,” you mutter. there’s a knowing second of quiet, both of you knowing you’ve fooled around much, much later. you’re flustered, trying to deflect his teasing words. the butterflies fluttering in your stomach have long since morphed into flames, burning like your skin as you wait for his next move.
       “you want me to stop?” his whisper is soft, the undertone of huskiness becoming feather light. you shift, eyes meeting his in the reflection of the vanity. his eyes are clear, curious. you know he’d stop at the word, no questions asked. but he knows you better than that, knows the way your legs twist together at the feeling of his hands holding you firmly means you don’t want him to stop. sirius wagers you would beg him not to stop, if he wanted you to.
        “no,” you shake your head. there’s that grin again, and his lips are back on you. a sharp breath slices the air as he nips at your skin with his teeth. “sirius–”
        his grasp tightens at the gasp of his name. he chuckles quietly, snaking a hand up over your stomach. the rough pad of his hand finds your breast, kneading it in his palm whilst his other hand holds you firm against him. he’s hardening behind you, bulge pressed against your scantily clad frame. his gaze is still trained on you in the mirror, dragging over the lush sight of your flushed face, your lips parted in small pants, the dark look in your eyes. he loves watching you fall apart at his smallest ministrations. more than half of his pleasure comes just from working you up like this, pushing you to the brink without even trying.
       “please,” you manage, voice constricted as you writhe against him. the ache between your legs is incessant, throbbing as you watch his salacious expression in the mirror.
       “please what, my lovely girl?” he sucks a dark mark into the soft patch of skin behind your ear, earning a cry from you. he rolls your nipple between his fingers. you chew on your bottom lip, hips rocking as best they can despite his hold.
       “sirius–”
       there it is again, his favorite sound in the world. but he doesn’t give in so easily. you know better.
       “words, please, darling,” he mutters. the arm caged around your stomach loosens for a second, his flat-palm tracing down your stomach. he’s approaching the place where you need him most, but he’s not going to give in until he gets what he wants.
        you whimper at his teasing, head falling back to rest on his shoulder. “please,” you rasp desperately, “just touch me.”
        “ah,” he tuts at you, “but i am touching you…” the jest in his voice goes unnoticed by you, your head swimming as he inches closer and closer to your center. you wonder, in the back of your foggy mind, if he’ll give up without those magic words, if he’ll send you off to bed with soaked panties and a fluttering stomach. surely not…
        you contemplate being a brat, refusing to tell him what you want just to see how far you can push it. but you know he’s tired, and the need growing in your center is becoming almost unbearable. you let your pride crumble and you force yourself to meet his eyes in the mirror. “your fingers–your mouth, merlin–” your voice is choked as he smirks and gives in, his middle finger delving into your slick to circle around your engorged clit.
       “there’s my obedient girl,” he says approvingly, the praise in his voice like music to your ears. you cry out, voice cracking as he applies pressure to the bundle of nerves with expertise. he knows your body like the back of his hand, knows exactly what drives you crazy. the pad of his finger dips further down, swirling through the mess of juices shining on your lips.
       mewling moans tear from your lips as he works you towards the edge. his lips are attached to your neck, abusing your skin to the point of saccharine tenderness. rosy marks bloom over your skin. his hand falls away from your breast to toy with the hem of the shirt, lifting it up in the front just enough so that he can watch himself pleasuring you.
       “fuck, take it off, please,” you plead, hips bucking against his hand.
       he shakes his head, releasing another patch of bruised skin with a hearty pop. “can’t,” he says, “wanna fuck you in it…” he mutters, voice low. he drags his teeth over your shoulder again, and then his fingers are slipping out of your panties. you whine at the loss of contact, your thighs clenching together automatically at the lack of stimulation.
       he pats your bum gently, head nodding in the direction of your bed. “go on, dove,” he says, “lay down f’me…”
        you do as he says, your heart thumping in anticipation. your legs are already quivering, weakened from his skilled fingers. he’s taking his time, watching as you sprawl back over the mussed blankets, frame draped in his clothes. he’s never been so enamoured, the sight of you wearing something of his just furthering his claim that you’re his sweet little angel. only, it makes him want to fuck you like you’re his little slut, makes him want to split you open on his cock and make you cry for hours and hours.
        you get comfortable, spreading your legs to reveal the soaked-through fabric of your panties. he groans, running a hand through his dark hair before he begins unbuttoning his shirt. the dark fabric is discarded quickly, though he doesn’t bother removing his trousers as he kneels on the bed between your legs.
        “sirius…” you breathe, aching for him by now. he’s observing, hands gently massaging the skin of your legs starting at your ankles. you squirm, following his gaze to the fabric plastered to your core. a second passes, and he dips his head between your legs, hands splayed over your thighs to keep your legs apart. a shrill cry comes from you as he licks a long stripe up your center, tongue gently flicking around your clit through your underwear. “please!”
       he smiles, against you. “so sweet,” his voice comes as a whisper. you tremble as his eyes meet yours, the stormy grey churning with lust for you. teasing you, he places tiny kitten licks against your center, just enough friction to have your hips rolling up into his mouth. but he’s stronger than you, and he’s got you right where he wants you. he has a knack for turning you into a whining, wriggling mess, drunk on his touch.
        “i– fuck, i can’t take it,” you hiss through clenched teeth at his teasing. you watch him through hooded eyes, biting on your bottom lip so hard that it hurts. he catches your eye, swirling the flat of his tongue over your clit. your back arches off of the bed, earning a raised eyebrow from him.
        “poor baby,” he says, tongue swiping over his swollen lips. he sits back on his knees, using one hand to flick open the clasp of his belt. “shall i send you off to bed, then? let you get your beauty sleep, hmm?” his eyes flicker with amusement. his other hand rubs soft circles into the silken skin of your inner thigh. you breathe sharply at the needing ache between your legs. you need him inside of you, badly enough you feel as if you could burst into tears.
       “no, why would i–” you start, shaking your head. he narrows his gaze at you, a warning. you know what he’ll do if you act like a brat, and although you’d enjoy it you don’t think you have the energy tonight. he pats your thigh softly, then finally, painstakingly drags the zipper of his trousers down.
       “be m’good girl then, yeah?” he prompts, moving closer as he palms his bulge through his boxers, then drags the waistband down just enough to let his length spring free. you hum at the sight, licking your lips as he swipes a thumb over the angry red tip, spreading a bead of precum over it. he spits into his hand, pumping the moisture over his cock before positioning himself above you. two of his fingers push the fabric of your panties out of the way, and he drags the cockhead through your folds, coating it in your arousal.
        a high-pitched, breathy noise graces his ears as his length drags over your clit. you bring your hand to your face, pushing your sweat-slicked hair off of your forehead. he breathes sharply above you, brows screwing together as he nudges your entrance with his length.
        “need you, siri,” you say, pleading. “need you inside me so bad…”
         “i know, dove,” his voice is soft as he leans down, peppering kisses over your face. “been dying to stretch you open since i got home.” he pushes into you, a chorus of pleasured sounds destroying the quiet in your bedroom.
        you cry out, the feeling of him pushing into you driving you mad. it’s been ages since you last had him inside of you, and there’s a sliver of pain as he bottoms out inside of your dripping cunt. waves of pleasure accompany the sting of the stretch, and your eyes flutter as he rocks slowly into you. he’s watching the way his cock splits you open, low grunts coming from deep in his chest. he shifts, one hand pressing on your lower stomach, thumb swirling over your clit. you cry out, head falling back onto the pillows. the other hand lifts one of your legs, pushing it towards your chest.
        “oh my fuck–” you cry out, hands reaching for him, fingertips finding his as they dig into your fleshy thigh. he holds your leg there still, hooking one finger with your own without even thinking. his pace is steady, and his cock is dragging deep against your walls. you’re fluttering around him, doing your best to keep your eyes open and drink in his blissed expression.
        “look at you,” he grunts, brows pulled together as he snaps his hips into yours with particular force. “makin’ a mess everywhere, dove…” the fabric of his trousers and exposed patch of pubic hair are both shining with your juices, and you’re sure there’s a damp spot pooled on the sheets beneath you. he’s eyeing your swollen cunt, his thumb massaging a steady pattern into the bundle of nerves. you clench around him involuntarily, your insides so swollen and tender that you imagine you can feel the ridges of his veins pulsing against your walls.
        your orgasm approaches unrelentingly. he leans back onto his heels, the angle causing the head of his cock to prod at the spongy flesh of your sweet spot. stars bloom at the edges of your vision, and his name breaks from your lips in a hoarse cry.
        “siri, i’m close,” you sob, your voice shaking. you feel his hips snap against yours, skin slapping in the quiet night as he drills you into the mattress. you bunch his shirt up in your free hand, wringing the fabric desperately as you hold onto him with your other hand. the fabric smells of him, like cigarettes and cologne and something woody, and it drives you even closer to the edge. he’s taking over your senses; the sight of him hovering over you, muscles in his abdomen clenching and rippling as he fucks into you is enough to make you scream on its own.
        “oh, is m’good girl gonna come for me? gonna make a mess of my cock, are you?” that silken voice drowns out everything else in the world. sirius is the only thing on your mind, his ministrations setting your body aflame. pleasure courses through your veins, spreading through your whole body until it’s all you can do to keep yourself from screaming until your throat goes hoarse.
       you cry for him as you come, your entire body seizing and shivering as he guides you through your release. “that’s it,” he says throatily, “oh, you’re doing so good f’me… look at this sweet little cunt pulling me in…” he’s groaning at the feeling of you tightening around him, closer to his own orgasm by the second. you’re still shaking, riding the waves of one of the longest orgasms of your life, and you’re sure a second one is piggybacking on this one, not far from sending your body into violent tremors.
       “siri, it– ah, it’s so sensitive,” you breathe, voice weak. he’s continued his pace both inside of you and on your clit. he’s determined to drain ever ounce of pleasure from your body that he can, his eyes watching your cunt weep around him with pride.
       “you can take it, dove,” he soothes, voice soft. “just one more f’me, can you do that? make me happy, love, just one more…”
        “one–one more?” you breathe, jerking as he slows his hips, allowing you to feel him inside of you more intensely. your mouth falls open involuntarily, your features crumbling into pure bliss as he nods. his movements grow more erratic as his release approaches now.
        “one more,” he repeats, leaning down over you to place a gentle kiss on your lips. his tongue drags over your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth. the kiss is messy, teeth gnashing and tongues swirling as he fucks you with renewed vigor. the coil in your stomach tightens again, and his movements quicken.
        you’re both drenched in sweat, shaking, as his pubic bone drags over your clit. both of his hands are now pinned to the mattress, caging you in on either side of your head. your hands slide over his ribs, up his back, nails biting into the skin as your second orgasm washes over you.
       he’s not far behind, hips meeting yours with a force that is almost painful, though you’re far too distracted by the fireworks blooming behind your eyelids. you feel him spill into you, hot seed pouring into your soaked cunt and making your thighs shake. his groans are hoarse, a couple grunted curses and growls of your name joining your chorus of moans in the room. he sits up once you’ve both ridden out your high, heads swimming as he watches his cum spill from between your legs when he pulls out.
        “my lovely girl,” he mutters, swiping a finger through the mess between your legs. the mix of your arousal glistens on his finger, the sight making your head spin as he brings his digit to your lips. you open your mouth, tongue darting out to swirl around the pad of his finger. you moan at the tang of your mixed release spreading over your tongue. he chuckles, leaning over to swirl his tongue against yours in a heated kiss. you’re panting when he finally pulls away, nipping at your jawline before he sits up, stretching his arms above his head. the sight of him, shimmering with sweat, scratches adorning his ribs and shoulders, hair curled up around his hairline and ears from the humidity, makes your stomach do flips. you shift, leaning up on your elbows as he pads away from the bed.
       “where are you going?” you wonder, frowning at his departure. he’s in the bathroom, the sound of the shower quickly following his footsteps. a second later, he returns to the bedroom.
       “gotta get cleaned up, darling,” he says. he tugs on one of your ankles as you lay there, and you oblige despite the fatigue in your limbs. “c’mon, let’s get this off.” he tugs at the hem of the shirt as he directs you into the bathroom.
        “can you wash my hair?” you ask, yawning as he pulls the shirt over your head.
        “‘course i can, dove. now, in we go...”
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revasserium · 4 months
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hiii can i pls request zayne with prompt 60 “home”? also love ur writing btw and i look forward to reading more of ur works <333
send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble
60. home
zayne; 2,264 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", whipped!zayne, implied sex, fade to black, zayne being a simp as per usual
summary: a friday afternoon
a/n: idk i just love writing dialogue for zayne he's so !!!!
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The Hospital - Friday, 4:36PM
Linoleum floors and fluorescent lights; the smell of antiseptic, the rhythmic beeps and hums of heart rate monitors and nebulizer machines. He spends too much time here, knows the flow of the hospital like he knows the web of arteries and capillaries in the human body, the wards branching off of each other, the hustle and bustles of nurses and staff familiar, oppressive.
It is only in the quiet of his own office, with its big windows and even bigger piles of paperwork (be it virtual or physical), that he ever allows himself to relax. He glances at the vase of brightly colored tulips on his desk and allows himself a grin. He remembers the shape of you, can feel the weight of your hand in his as you’d tugged him around the farmer’s market on Sunday morning, pointing at the various vendors, asking to try a bite of this and a bit of that, until finally, you’d come across the flower seller — a middle-aged woman with a sweet smile and a gleeful glint in her eyes as she explained about the language of flowers.
“There’s sunshine in your smile,” you’d repeated, looking down at the yellow tulips before grinning up at Zayne.
“Perfect for you, isn’t it?”
He could hear the tease in your voice, see that familiar playful twinkle in your eyes and he’d raised an eyebrow before wordlessly handing over a few bills from his wallet.
And now the flowers sit, quiet save for all their brilliance, on his desk, in a simple vase filled with crystal-clear water. He stares at it for a second longer before pulling out his phone and swiping it open to your contact.
Coming home early today, he texts. Immediately, a typing bubble appears, and a second later, a short shoomp sound as your reply appears on his screen —
oh? dr. zayne leaving work early??? is the sun setting in the east today?
He chuckles to himself before dialing your line and a second later, your voice answers, a little hesitant.
“Hello?”
“If you’re going to be sarcastic, at least do it in person.”
Shuffling noises, and then — “Not my fault you’re never around for me to be mean to you in person.”
Zayne leans back in his chair with a sigh, “Hn. How’s shopping with Tara?”
“Fun! But my legs are getting tired…”
“I can meet you at the main shopping center around 5:30.”
A moment of quiet, and then “Ah… but that’s still an hour from now…”
Zayne scoffs, “I could stay till 7PM like I usually do —”
“No, no! That’s… that’s not what I meant — I’ll see you at 5:30, then? Don’t be late!”
You end the call before he can protest and for a second, Zayne stares at the screen, the picture of your smiling face fading after another few seconds as the phone screen darkens.
“Doctor? Your next patient is here,” the nurse calls through his closed door.
“Yes, I’ll be right there.” Zayne glances once more at the yellow tulips on his desk before pushing himself up and adjusting his white coat. He’ll have to make a note to change the water soon.
City Center Shopping Mall - Friday, 5:38PM
“You made it!”
Zayne turns at the sound of your voice to find you slightly breathless as you jog up to him, coming to a stop a few steps away.
“You sound surprised.”
A blush dusts your cheeks as you avert your eyes, “I — I’m not! I just thought… you might be a bit later than this.”
Zayne keeps his expression neutral even as he reaches out to take your hand, casually lacing his fingers between yours. He feels you give him a small squeeze and contents himself with letting you take the lead as the pair of you start to wander through the mall, glancing at the window displays.
“Oh… that smells good!” you both pause as the smell of scallions and garlic warms the air. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, “I think it’s coming from that restaurant over there! Tara was telling me that it just opened a week ago and it’s already going viral online for their stuffed pancakes —”
“C’mon then.” Zayne starts off for the restaurant.
“W-wait! We don’t have a reservation! We’ll never get in!”
Zayne keeps walking, gently tugging you behind him till you both round the corner to see a truly impressive line outside the restaurant doors. He walks passed the massive line straight to the front where a smiling girl in a flowery apron stands at an electronic podium, taking down the names of the next party in line.
“Is Liam here?”
“O-oh! Uhm, I think so!” the girl blinks, surprised as she looks down at her reservation list, “May I ask who’s asking?”
“Zayne.”
The girl nods as she slips into the restaurant. Beside him, you look up, confused.
“Do you know someone here?”
Zayne nods but doesn’t explain any further as the smiling girl comes back and motions for you both to follow her.
“Right this way Dr. Zayne! Enjoy your meal!”
Zayne gives your hand a small tug as you stumble after him, the confusion on your face blossoming into something like surprise as the pair of you duck into the bustling restaurant to be greeted by an enthusiastic young man, around Zayne’s age, his sleeves rolled up, a bandana tied around his forehead.
“Zayne! You should’ve told me you were coming!”
“It was a last-minute decision,” Zayne supplies, shaking Liam’s hand firmly, pulling you into his side even as Liam’s eyes slide onto you.
“Oh… is this the girl you were always talking about back in —”
“I think we’ll take a booth in the back, thanks,” Zayne cuts him off with a loud cough, already making for the back of the restaurant. Liam laughs good-naturedly, leading you both to a booth tucked in the very corner, away from most of the noise and bustle.
You inch into the booth, casting Zayne a curious look.
“Is that the owner? How do you know him?”
Zayne doesn’t look up as he glances over the menu before pushing it towards you.
“We went to medical school together. Pick anything you want, it’s all very good.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, “And he decided to become a chef instead?”
Zayne’s lips twitch, “Is that so unbelievable?”
You shrug, looking down at the menu at last, pursing your lips, “No… it’s just… did he drop out of med school then?”
Zayne shakes his head, “No, he was one of the best in our year.”
“Oh. Then…?”
Zayne taps the menu, “I thought you were hungry.”
You blush, looking down, “I am!”
It’s not till the middle of the meal that Zayne speaks again —
“He said it didn’t make him happy.”
You look up, your cheeks bulging with food. Zayne watches you swallow with a concerted effort, reaching out to wipe at your lips with an indulgent smile even as you swat at his hand.
“Liam? About… being a doctor?”
“Yes. And… in a way, I understood him. He said that the kitchen’s always felt more like home.”
You purse your lips, looking at your half-eaten stuffed pancake.
“Then… does the hospital feel like home? To you?”
Zayne chuckles, leaning forward to add some more veggies to your bowl with his chopsticks.
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Then…” you trail off, waiting for his answer. There’s a familiar color seeping into your cheeks as Zayne looks you over before his eyes flicker down to your bowl.
“Eat. Or else the veggies will go cold.”
Zayne’s Apartment - Friday, 7:01PM
“I’m so full!” you slump down onto his couch with a long sigh, patting your stomach.
“You were the one who wanted seconds of dessert,” Zayne says, hanging up his coat and turning to join you on the couch. You make a small noise as he lifts your legs and lays them across his lap, his thumbs absently digging into the backs of your calves.
“Ow…” you make to jerk your leg away as he hits a knot but he only grips your ankle and pulls it back with a soft tut.
“Hold still.”
You bury your face in one of the couch cushions as he continues to silently knead at your calf muscles.
“There, better?” his voice is soft now, tugging on the frayed ends of your subconscious as you turn your head to blink at him, a bit dazed.
“Yeah… lots better. Thanks.”
You make to get up but he loops an arm around your back and lifts you easily from the couch, bridal style.
“Zayne?”
“You’re staying the night, right?” he asks, even as he makes for the bedroom.
“I — I am?”
He glances down at your face as he sets you down on his bed.
“I can still drive you home if you want —” He makes to pull away.
“No! I — I can stay. I mean — I want to stay.” You reach up to tug at his shirt, fingers crumpling the material as he stills. You can feel your cheeks blazing as his gaze flickers over your face before settling on your lips.
“Alright then.”
There’s a breath’s pause before you give his shirt another tentative tug and he tips forward with the motion, leaning in to brush his lips against yours.
A soft groan bubbles out of you as Zayne presses you back and back and back, until he’s caged over you, trailing hot lips down the line of your neck, skimming his teeth along your collarbones.
“Mm — Z-Zayne…?”
He pulls back, his eyes a bit unfocused as he looks you over — you can feel the weight of his gaze as it flutters over the planes and ridges of your face, from the arch of your brows to the line of your nose. You can’t help blushing beneath this intense scrutiny, and you tug once more at his shirt, your fingers somehow having inched up to his collar, one of your fingers hooked into the top loop of his buttons.
He reaches up to cover your hand with his, fingers easily curling around your smaller hand.
“What is it?”
You lick your lips, stomach twisting, the base rumble of his voice sending shivers shaking through your body.
“Nothing just… I don’t remember you drinking at dinner so…”
He leans down to press a soft kiss to the back of your hand before dropping it back to his shirt collar.
“No, but… alcohol’s not the only thing that might cause someone to lose hold of their senses…”
You watch as his eyes darken at your intake of breath, the way his grip on your hand tightens ever so slightly.
“Then…” you swallow, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his lips trail back up your neck to your jaw.
“Are you going to make me say it?”
You let out a tiny whimper as he presses a leg up between yours, his breath now hot against the lobe of your ear.
“Say… what?”
Zayne pulls back just far enough to cock an eyebrow at you. And like this, you’ve never seen anything so alluring — the sight of him with his shirt tugged open, his eyes blown dark with desire, his hair slightly mussed from your eager fingers, his lips kissed pink, his cheeks warm with color.
“Hn. Is this my punishment then?”
“For what?”
“For being late to meet you.”
You fight back a grin, “Well… you did say I could be mean to you in person.”
Zayne lets out a sigh, “Alright then.”
You walk your fingers up his chest before pushing him back till you’re both sitting up again. He waits patiently for you to push him down and straddle his hips, slowly tugging open the buttons of his shirt, loosening his tie till it hangs undone around his neck. You lean in to press a soft kiss to his chest and revel in the way he hisses.
His fingers reach up for your hips and you catch them with a quick shake of your head.
“No touching… not till I say.”
Zayne stares at you for a second before relaxing and letting his hands fall back onto the sheets.
And it’s not until you lean down to kiss at his exposed abdomen that he groans, head tipping back. Then, a second later, you find yourself pinned beneath him, breathless, Zayne towering over you with parted lips, the moon casting stark shadows along the lines of his face.
“I said you could be mean… I didn’t say I wouldn’t retaliate.”
After, when the pair of you are curled into each other like pieces of jigsaw puzzle that’s finally found its missing parts, his breath warm along the nape of your neck, Zayne finds himself smiling.
“It’s always been you…” he murmurs, though he’s nearly certain you’re already asleep, your breathing sweet and level, your body pliant and perfect against his.
He laces his hands between yours and drops a soft kiss onto the skin of your bare shoulder.
“It doesn’t matter what I do… or where I do it… because my home has always been… you.”
648 notes · View notes
glitterjay · 1 month
Text
ENEMIES TO LOVERS | 이희승.LHS
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summary: heeseung finds himself drawn to the girl he initially clashed with. two competitive rivals notice the sparks that fly every time they encounter each other. beneath the surface of their hatred lies a hidden chemistry drawing them closer despite their efforts to resist. could love possibly fire up from sparks?
genre: feuding families, a little bit of everything (smut, fluff, angst), enemies to lovers
warnings: will contain smut, heeeseung and reader are in their late 20s, more to be added.
in case of wanting to be part of taglist, please send an ask with what fic you would like to get @ for as I will be making one list for each one. series masterlist
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taglist (open): @drunkhee @jvjsssnaa @minniejenseo @slut4hee @nyxtwixx @m1sskz @tanisha2060 @heelee-01 @enhypenlovre @rainingleaves @hommyy-tommy @hollyoongs @seungjiseyo @cheeryyyyyyyy @ramenoil @yorukoshii @pockettwinzz @samouryed @capri-cuntz @jjklvr9 @minjaexvz
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lee incorporated, one of the biggest companies to rule the world, was now facing trouble with its sales—something never seen before in the many years the company has been in operation.
its success had been ongoing throughout the years, making it impossible for new competitors to even make it as such—until the last few years.
the feud between the two companies had been going on publicly, only adding to the sales of each one as well as increasing their popularity.
heeseung didn't understand why the other company seemed never to give up and, in fact, kept shooting up in sales before his very eyes. his family was counting on him to keep the legacy of lee incorporated, but he was beginning to think it was impossible.
throughout the last year, you've been meeting up with different investors who seem to be interested in having some kind of connection with your company. you've also had the opportunity to be in the same room as heeseung, the future owner of your competition.
it was evident how frustrated he would get when an investor would set up a meeting with the both of you, thus making it easier for them to see which company would be the better option. his eyes shot glares at you every time, as if every look was a dagger thrown straight at your back.
that was the case now. both of you stood side by side as you gave a presentation as to why the investors should choose one over the other. you were both professional enough to keep it calm but couldn't help glaring at each other from time to time.
"thank you for your time, both of you. we will be reaching out to the candidate we like most, and we wish the other party the best of luck."
both of you bowed politely until the meeting room was empty, leaving only the two of you in the room. you sighed, taking a seat in one of the chairs that had been occupied moments ago.
"if you're that tired, just give up," heeseung said, fixing the sleeves of his white button-down.
you scoffed, grabbing a fistful of hair to tie it into a bun. "as if."
every encounter ended almost like this. sometimes you would exchange more than two words; other times you would bicker until someone else caught both of your attentions; or sometimes you wouldn’t say anything at all, one of you walking out of the room right away.
there was a spark you felt between the both of you that only lit up in such moments. heeseung felt it, too. but it was only normal to feel such hatred when your enemy is in the same room as you.
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© glitterjay | tumblr
if you could leave any type of feedback—whether it be an ask, reblog, or comment—that would help me a lot.
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in-another-april · 4 months
Text
summary/prompt + genre - You leave little notes around the apartment for Spencer. He loves them. | fluff
warnings - none
wc - 289
notes - idk what this is oops. inspired by this one pic i saw of his desk on set, i would insert it but tumblr doesn't let me add media for some reason 😔 also pls send reqs i beg
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It starts on one of the first mornings after you’ve moved in together: you have to leave before him and since he gets so few chances to sleep in, you feel too bad to wake him up. You leave a little sticky note on his end table, telling him you’re off to work, you’ll see him for dinner, and that you love him. You notice the note’s absence the next day but don’t think much of it, assuming that it served its purpose, and he tossed it after reading it.
The next time you write one, it serves as a makeshift bookmark after he’s fallen asleep during a late-night reading session. You draw a few silly hearts and doodles on it before sticking it onto the page, even though you know he’ll probably remember exactly where he left off. Just in case, you figure, never passing up an opportunity to do something cute for him.
You pass his desk the next day and the colorful paper stuck to it catches your attention, because what could Dr. Eidetic Memory possibly need post-it note reminders for? It isn’t until further inspection that you realize they’re the notes from you, and you feel like you’re about to melt into a puddle of lovesick, probably-pathetic-looking goo because oh my god he brought the silly little notes you left him to his workplace so he would see them every day.
When you ask him about it, he bashfully admits he keeps them there to look at and think of you whenever work gets hard, or he's having a bad day (or really, any chance he gets.) So now you’ve made it a point to leave as many notes around for him as possible, all filled with drawings, compliments, and cheesy pick-up lines just to make him smile.
739 notes · View notes
biibini · 4 months
Note
would you please consider my request? 😆😋😋
mizu wants to see f!reader to masturbate in front of her and ask reader right away then mizu just enjoying the show and saying bunch of filthy words, guiding and all but also ended up having her fingers fucking the reader until the reader is pleading for mizu to stop pathetically but mizu is too lustful because how sweet and hot you sound
show & tell: modern!mizu x reader smut (request)
tags: NSFW, smut, modern!mizu, f!reader, masturbation with an audience, dirty talk, praise, so much praise, mizu has a DIRTYYYY mouth, fingering, guiding, finger-sucking, mizu holding back, if you squint rlly hard its edging on the dl, teasing, begging, she pussy whipped lets be real
a/n: i apologize for being MIA,, midterms has been kicking my ass lately :( i hope yall enjoy this though, i've been cookin this for a while
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nsfw 18+ under the cut!
You and Mizu are laying side by side, the moonlight shining into the bedroom. It’s one of those nights where you’re cuddling, and a little bit of making out to end the night.
That’s at least what you expected.
Mizu’s lips softly kiss against yours as her arms wrap around your sides, pulling you closer to her. You lock lips, letting her guide you. You feel up her neck and up to the back of her head. Her arms wrap tighter. In response, you let your fingers run deep into her hair, grasping onto it from the sudden squeeze.
Mizu pulls back and gasps, her mouth agape from the unexpected pull. She scoffs playfully. You watch as her eyes darken under the moonlight, glimmering with spirit.
“Oh, so you want to play that game, huh.”
Before you can react, you feel her lips back on you again. Instead of feeling her on your lips, she starts to work her way down your neck. With each kiss, you feel a jolt of pleasure run up your neck. As Mizu works her way closer to your ears, a moan escapes your lips.
“Feels good, doesn’t it.”, she teases. You feel her arms slowly loosen their grip on you, allowing her to continue her work on your neck.
“Mmhm, Mizu- ah-”, you respond back. You could barely answer back as you felt Mizu playfully nibble at your neck, leaving small maroon spots to blossom later tonight.
Her arms wrap around your upper half, pulling your neck closer to her lips. You feel one of her hands gently caress your hips, teasing you to a night of pleasure. Initially, she was content with making out before bed. Instead, a curious thought entertained Mizu’s head. Something that you had never done in front of her before.
You attempt to mirror her actions and reach for her instead, hoping to bring her the same pleasure from your touch. However, Mizu unexpectedly pulls your hands away.
“Let's try something new tonight.”, she says into your ear. The allure of her voice sends shivers up your spine. She pulls away from your neck to watch your reaction. “How does that sound, baby?”
Something new?
“What did you have in mind?”, you ask, curious about her request.
You feel her hand move your hands away from her hips. Instead, she places them towards your panties, gently palming around your entrance. She comes back closer to your neck, inches away from your ear.
“I wanna watch you.”, she answers with a lust in her voice. She grins before planting a kiss close to your ear. “I wanna see you play with yourself.”
You freeze as your brain tries to comprehend Mizu’s request. It didn’t help that she was leaving soft kisses along your neck. Did she just say-
“Can you do that for me, hmm?”
Her question left you stunned. Her soft kisses contradicted the request. 
It didn’t help that you instantly melt under her voice. 
You could only nod as she lets go of your hand below, giving you the freedom to touch yourself as you place. Her free hand places itself on the other side of your neck, gently brushing over the blooming maroon marks from her earlier work. As she continued her hard work on your neck, you start to move your fingers, circling your throbbing clit atop the fabric of your panties.
Left to your imagination, you imagine how you would normally touch yourself alone. How you would think about Mizu’s touches and build up while you pleasured yourself. Without thinking, your fingers apply pressure against the outside of your entrance. You feel your middle finger toy with your clit through the fabric, making your head throw back in response. You think about how Mizu’s fingers mimicking yours while her head was in between your thighs. Perhaps they were kissing down your thighs.
Or leaving marks closer to your heat.
Instinctively, hums and moans start to escape your mouth.
Little did you know that Mizu had been watching you slowly unfold without her touch. Now pulled away from your neck, she carefully watches the show. You continue to play with yourself, the damp spot by your entrance growing with every second that passes. 
“What a good girl… Following my request so easily.”, Mizu praises you. You look up and spot her sitting next to you. Your eyes meet her gaze. They long for entertainment. A good show.
Following her voice, you slide your panties to the side, giving her a full view of your dewy mess. You watch her eyes redirect themselves towards the star of the show. You teasinly tug on your the fabric, using it to rub against your pulsing clit. You let moans escape, allowing Mizu to fully hear the magic happen.
You feel the dampness and sweat build up and spread across your inner thighs. They paint your thighs and entrance with your slick, glimmering under the moonlight.
“Fuck, baby.”
Mizu could only watch as her pretty girl was unfolding in front of her very eyes. Sure, she orchestrated this entire thing. But being a viewer during this engaging show began to be… damned difficult.
On the other hand, you continued to stimulate yourself with your panties, the knot starting to build inside you. You could think about Mizu usual touches to help you get closer to your peak. 
You could also just think about her praises and instantly unfold.
Mizu could only sit and stare at your slick spreading across your thighs. How it would easily lubricate her fingers. How it would feel so cooling on her face as she ate you out. How sweet you would taste.
“God you’re just, so wet. Let me taste how sweet you are.”, Mizu commented.
Following orders, you fully pull off your panties. You feel your fingers touch your sticky entrance, dipping into the puddle you had created all on your own. Your fingers directly touch your folds, swirling around your bare entrance.
Mizu as a viewer was sitting at the edge of her seat. 
“I know, that’s all you.”, she praised as she continued to watch your fingers gather as much slick as you could.
Dear god, this was a lot to handle, Mizu thought. This is the first time she had ever watched you fully masturbate in front of you. Yeah sure, she’s definitely done multitudes of other things that would instantly make you finish. There’s not doubt about that.
But to watch a one-woman show? Without her touch?
She was just a first timer.
She witnesses you bringing your index and middle finger closer to you. She watched as some of your juices ran down your hand. At this point, Mizu could barely handle being a viewer, the sexual frustration driving her over the edge. Impatiently, she grabbed your finger and pulled it close to her mouth.
“Let me taste before it drips down now.”
Your fingers touch Mizu’s tongue. The slick enters her mouth, the coating mixing with her saliva. She gently sucks on your fingers to get a taste of you. You feel some of the liquid escape and end up smothered on her lips.
“Mmm, you taste so… so sweet.”, she pauses to say. Mizu continues to indulge herself with your fingers, savoring your taste with her wet tongue. 
You’ve never seen her so pussy-whipped in your life.
You stared in awe and watched as she sucked your fingers clean. She pulls your wrist back down to your very dripping wet mess. With her other hand, she messily wipes away the mess she made on her face. 
She looks back at you. You easily read the neediness in her ocean blue eyes. But you couldn’t read how much she was holding back.
“Keep touching yourself with those fingers.”
Following her command, you watched as Mizu laid back, becoming a viewer of the show you were putting on. To think that you could get this wet without her touches was an absurd idea. Yet here she is, doing nothing except watching & indulging your every move.
You continue to touch yourself and watch your only viewer continue to hold back. While Mizu was watching your every move, you began to read every sign: her hand gripping onto the sheet, her mouth practically drooling from the view, and her eyebrows furrowed in frustration.
She looks so frustrated, yet at the same time, so desperate for you.
You slip a finger inside, its length easily sliding into you. You hum in pleasure. Out of curiosity, you look up to Mizu to find her eyes lit up out of interest while she bit the inner corner of her lips. You took it upon yourself to slowly pull in and out, mimicking what Mizu would usually do if she was in charge. You open your legs wider as you continued your slow pace, your slick coating your finger once again.
In and out, Mizu watched. She stared at your painfully slow pace, your liquids gushing out with every push inside. She said one command and her girl immediately followed? How obedient.
“You’re so well-behaved, Y/N.”, Mizu cooed. Her hand moves closer to your head, gently caressing the top of your head while you continue to fuck yourself in front of her. Her voice makes your insides grip on your finger tighter, making you moan in response.
“Aw, is my good girl dripping wet?”, she teases, her voice lowering. “Practically soaking from my words?”
“Y-Yeah.”, you moan out breathily. You pull out to massage the outside of your entrance with your fingers before you quickly slip your index and middle fingers inside. A small cry comes out of your mouth as you feel the two digits slip into you, stretching you out. It feels so familiar yet so unknown at the same time.
As good as you felt, you wished it was Mizu instead. You wished for her slender fingers to substitute yours, to feel them sink deep into you. But instead, you can only pleasure yourself with the thought.
“Such a good girl,”, Mizu cups your face, her hands up now against your flushed face. “Aren’t you? Hm, Y/N?”
She chuckles at the growing heat of your face, gently caressing your cheeks.
You nod in response, pumping your fingers inside you, going at the same slow place as before. Your liquids continue to pour out, making a wet mess in between your thighs. The tantalizing pace felt like torture. But with Mizu’s praise, it felt so fucking good. 
You continue the pace, thinking about Mizu once again. How her fingers would be able to reach places you couldn’t. How they would be able to hit the right spots immediately. How you would always arch your back to feel her hit a deeper angle. How her touch would send shivers done your back.
And how her hand would take control of you while you finished on her fingers.
“Go faster for me. I know you can do that for me.”
And faster you did.
You lean your face into her hand and close your eyes. Your mind continues to fantisize about your viewer as you speed up the pace. You groan as your fingers pumped in and out, continuing to stretch your insides. You feel your clit throb as it gains pleasure with every pump.
You groan as you feel your wrists start to strain from the speed. You rest your hand on your inner thigh, attempting to gain some control before you completely tire out. The new angle makes a moan slip out.
“Mmm, that’s it.”, Mizu praises as she continues to caress your cheek, watching you get closer and closer to your peak. “Good job baby.”
You continue your pace, using her praise to fuel your speed. You feel her face inch closer to yours, her breath tickling your neck. You tighten around your fingers as Mizu places soft kisses down your neck. Shivers start running down your spine as your mind races, practically aching to feel more of her. You continue to moan in response.
However, your pace begins to falter as your wrists start to give out. Mizu notices this change and leaves one final kiss on your neck before inching closer to your ear.
“Getting tired so soon?”, she teased, her voice echoing inside your ear.
“Mmhmm, yeah- ah!”, you yelp as you feel Mizu’s hand pull away from your face. The pads of her fingers start to gently circle around your clit, building up the pleasure even more. Your wrist gives out and you slowly pull out, leaving them to lie to the side.
You feel Mizu’s fingers explore past your clit.
“You’re this wet without me?”, she taunted, her fingers now inches away from your dripping wet entrance. “My pretty girl is all excited for me?”, she lowly whispers in your ear.
Instinctively, your thighs close in, your hips pathetically grind against her. You’re still throbbing, needing something, anything at this point, to go inside and finish you off.
And her voice… God, her voice made praise sound so sinful yet so good.
You attempt to keep your voice down as you unfold under her touch. She moves close to your entrance, prepping her fingers with your slick. As she coats her fingers, you feel her lips touch your neck once again, leaving a few marks scattered down your neck, each soon to blossom a deep shade of maroon.
“So fucking wet…”, she groans as two of her fingers enter you, letting the lust take over.
She couldn’t play as an audience member anymore. She knew you missed this, and so did she. What fun is a show if the audience can’t interact with the talent on stage?
In this case, you were a dripping-wet talent. And soon to become a vocal talent at that.
You moan in response, her digits going deep as you had fantasized earlier. 
“Fuck, Y/N, it slipped in so easily. You miss me this much?” she says, smirking at you.
At this point, you can't control what to say. All you can do is react with a nod as her fingers fully sink inside of u. They fully stretch your insides, reaching a deep spot inside u. Mizu feels you tighten around her fingers. She knew your sweet voice couldn’t be self-contained. Testing the waters, she slowly pulls out all the way before deeply thrusting inside of you. You feel another jolt of pleasure hit you. A loud cry comes out, louder than ever before.
“Mizu, please… I’m- ah-“
You feel her slip in another digit. It slip inside you so easily yet all you could do was cry in response. Mizu slows down the pace, letting the new digit stretch you out even more.
“I’m so close Mizu. It’s just so much-”
You try to explain as the three digits plunge deep into you. Instinctively, you grab the sheets, gripping tight onto them. Mizu slowly pulls out once again and thrusts back quickly and deeply into you. Your moans grow louder with every thrust, the pace slowly gaining speed. Mizu feels you clench around her, getting tighter with every pump.
Every nerve, every ache continues to grow in pleasure as Mizu quickens the pace. All she could hear is the squelching from her thrusts and your sweet moans, motivating her to continue her pace.
“Mizu, please, It’s so- fuck!”, you cry out in pleasure as you feel yourself gain closer to your peak, feeling the familiar knot grow tighter and tighter in your lower stomach. Her breath hitched, tickling against your neck.
You call out her name out loud as her pace grew faster, pumping fast and deep into your soaking-wet insides. Mizu listened as your cries grew even louder, echoing against the bedroom walls. Your thighs start trembling, hoping to close the gap between them.
At this point, she could easily read you. How close you were to unfolding and finishing on her fingers. How close you were to yelling and screaming her name. How close you were to twitching and tightening around her fingers.
“Lemme hear that pretty voice of yours.”, she requested for the last time.
With one final thrust, you feel yourself reach your high, spasming against Mizu’s continuous pace deep into you. Your thighs attempt to close, your hips instinctively grind against her fingers. She continued the pace, relentlessly pushing deep into you as you ride out your high.
You turn to Mizu, whining next to her, letting her hear your melodic cries late into the night.
409 notes · View notes
sugrhigh · 5 months
Text
FEELINGS MUTUAL - ( c.s. )
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summary- you and chris, a d1 lacrosse player, have been good friends since freshman year. he accidentally hurts your feelings one night while youre hanging out, and things escalate as he’s apologizing.
warnings - it’s smut (use of ma included oop) so PLEASE read at ur own risk, if u don’t like it keep scrolling cuz idgaf 🤭
bff!chris x fem!reader
a/n: this is my first one shot on here AHH! i’ll probably be writing more so if you have requests or ideas, pls send them my way xoxo
“i still don’t understand how you predicted most of that within the first thirty minutes.” chris shakes his head, arms crossed as he leans back against the headboard casually.
“i told you, i’ve got it down to a science. all scary movies are practically the same.” you shrug, clutching a pillow to your chest as you lay in his bed.
it’s late now, or early. you’ve been watching movies together all night, just like you usually do during slow weekdays where neither of you have to be up for class, or in his case, practice.
“i wish you didn’t insist on watching them all of the time.” he says.
“aw, is little christina scared?” you tease him with a small grin.
“i hate when you call me that. and nothing about me is little.” chris kicks you with his foot gently, and you nearly roll off of the bed trying to avoid the contact.
“gross.”
“whatever, you’re the one thinking about my dick.”
“i absolutely am not.” you argue, though you feel your cheeks flush.
“keep lying.”
you lift an arm out to smack him in the bicep, and he just laughs. “stop flirting, you slut.”
“if i was flirting, you’d know.” chris smirks, running a hand through his long hair.
“you think you could rizz up the babadook?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him properly.
“oh for sure.”
he doesn’t hesitate before saying it. he even nods his head a little bit in certainty.
“someone’s confident.” you laugh.
“c’mon, i could rizz anybody up.”
“you haven’t managed to do it to me, and we’ve been friends for two years.”
“that’s because i’m not trying to.”
for some reason, this stings a little. chris is a bit notorious for getting around, though it’s not really his fault. as a d1 lacrosse player who also happens to be very attractive, girls come falling at his feet.
you’re just not one of them, and he clearly doesn’t mind. you’re not sure why you even care.
it just makes you feel weird, that you’re the only girl he’s not attracted to for whatever reason. like you’re defective or something.
“right. i forgot you’ll hit on every other girl in the world, just not me.” your voice comes out more sour than intended.
chris looks a bit surprised, eyebrows raising slightly at your tone. “because you’re…you know…you.”
“wow, you really know how to make a girl feel good, huh?” you roll your eyes before turning to lay facing the other direction.
a hand snakes its way to your waist, a familiar sensation that still makes butterflies erupt in your stomach regardless.
“you know i didn’t mean it like that.”
you bury your head further into the pillow, trying to ignore the way his thumb is tracing circles against your hip. “whatever, chris. i get it.”
“you clearly don’t, because you’re all pissy now.” he sighs, breath tickling your skin.
“no i’m not.”
“yes you are.”
“i just want to sleep.” you lie.
chris fully wraps his forearm around your stomach now, tugging you so that your back is flush against his chest. he buries his chin in the crook of your neck, and you can’t help but smile slightly to yourself.
“all i meant is that you’re not those girls. you’re too special.” he says quietly into your ear.
you bite down on your lip to try and keep the grin from growing.
“now you’re just humoring me.”
he shakes his head slightly, stubble scratching at your shoulder in a pleasant way. “i’m not and you know it.”
you’re actually thankful you’re in a tank top, because having his warm skin on yours is nice. you’ve never felt it before, and it kind of makes you nervous.
“do i?” you question.
“you should. you’re the only girl who can get me to watch horror movies with her. the only one who sleeps over, or gets to steal my hoodies—”
“oh please, i know you gave that bitch maddy your sweatshirt. she wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks.” you cut him off.
“okay, she stole that from me and now she won’t give it back, so that’s different.” chris shuts you down quickly.
“if you insist.”
you shift slightly in his arms, and you hear him suck in a breath as you get comfortable.
“don’t do that.” his voice is strained.
“what?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“don’t move like that.”
“i’m not allowed to move now?”
“not when your ass is on me.” his grumbles, and you finally get it.
“oh.”
your response is abnormally high pitched, and you’re not sure what else to say. you’re too terrified to turn even in the slightest.
“who’s scared now, huh?”
you swear he must have gotten closer, because you can almost feel his lips hovering by your earlobe as he speaks. the smile is prominent in his tone.
he’s teasing you, and it spurs a fire in the pit of your stomach that you’ve never felt with him before. you maneuver your body, and this time you purposely back your ass up against his lap.
you hear him let out a small groan that vibrates against your body, and it nearly makes you shiver.
“not me.” you give him attitude, though you’re practically breathless.
“have you really thought this through?” chris asks, pressing up against you so you can actually feel how hard he is.
you’re already pulsing, and his fingers dance back and forth across your stomach lightly. even with your shirt as a barrier, it’s too nice.
you nod in response, and his hand slides up your arm and over your shoulder, fingernails barely raking against your skin as he goes. chris grips your throat, and you push against him for some sort of friction, for anything.
“tell me you want it.” he demands, squeezing just a bit harder.
“you want it.” you manage to taunt, grabbing his arm and guiding it down your chest to the bottom of your shirt.
his hand slides underneath the tight fabric, back up your stomach, traveling to massage your left tit slowly. his thumb ghosts over your nipple, and you arch your back into him involuntarily.
“fuck.” you gasp quietly.
“no bra, huh? just for me?”
chris twitches against your ass, attaching his lips to your neck hungrily. his tongue slides against the sensitive skin, teeth digging into the flesh where your throat meets your collar.
his hand switches places, and he drags the pads of his fingers across your other nipple in a tantalizing pattern. the sensation of his touch and his mouth at the same time is bliss, and you let out a moan of pleasure.
“always wondered what you sounded like, you fuckin angel.” he praises, grinding his hips against you.
just feeling his length, pressing right against your core through the fabric of your yoga pants, makes you incredibly wet. he’d be shocked to find you’re not wearing underwear either.
you guide his hand back out from underneath your shirt so you can flip over again, sitting up slightly as you move to straddle him. he’s already bucking up into you, whining from the feeling of being underneath your hips.
“don’t tease me. i’ve waited too long for this.” chris pulls your arm down so he can give you an actual kiss.
his lips are soft, molding against yours desperately as his hands grip your ass. you rock against him as his tongue slides against yours, and he groans into your mouth.
“god, i love hearing that.” you admit against his lips.
you pull away so you can lift his shirt over his head, trailing your long manicured nails down his chest slowly, right along his happy trail. he throws his head back against the pillows, relishing in the feeling.
you can tell he’s growing frustrated though, and suddenly he grabs you by your waist, throwing you down so your back hits the mattress.
chris helps you out of your top like it’s a race, tossing it to the floor with his other clothes. he positions himself over you, capturing your lips with his hungrily.
you bring your hands up; one tugging at the curly strands of hair on the back of his neck, the other clawing at his back.
he likes this, smiling into you before biting down on your bottom lip harshly. chris pulls away, pressing kisses down your throat, down the valley of your chest, but not without moving his tongue back and forth against each nipple at least a few times.
it makes you writhe, hands tangling in his sheets as he continues.
“jesus, chris.” you’re basically whimpering.
he stops right at the top of your leggings, looking up at you from between your thighs like he’s asking for permission.
you lift your hips as an answer, and he tugs the slick material down over your feet. the air hits you, and you can feel how embarrassingly ready you are.
chris lowers himself to you again, pushing your legs apart with both palms.
“you’re so pretty, ma. so fucking wet for me, too.” he mumbles, kissing and nipping at your hip, down your inner thigh, right next to where you need him most.
ma. he’s never called you that before, and you like it way more than you should.
without warning, he slides his tongue flat against your pussy in one long stripe. his lips come down around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue against it slowly.
“holy shit—” you gasp, and your fingers tangle in his hair again, tugging at his roots as he buries his face further.
you’d been given head before, but it never actually felt good until now. chris’s fingers grip your thighs as he continues to force them apart, tongue moving up and down against your center at a faster pace now.
you can feel the pressure building, but you know you want more. you want to make him feel good too.
“oh my god baby.” the pet name slips out without even thinking, your head is so fuzzy with pleasure.
“fuck, call me that again.” he pulls away just enough to speak coherently.
“i need you inside me, baby, please.” you beg desperately.
“so ready for me, so eager.” he practically growls, sitting up so he can yank off his sweatpants, tugging his boxers down with them.
his dick is just as big as it felt, definitely the biggest you’ve seen in person, which is a little scary. he puts a hand to your mouth, turning your head to the side slightly.
“spit.”
fuck, this is hot.
you happily do as your told, and he pulls his hand back to spread it around his dick. his other arm goes to prop your one leg up as he aligns himself at your entrance.
chris pushes in slowly, and you both let out a long moan at the same time. you can feel him stretching you, and it takes a minute for you to adjust to his full length.
“fuck…” he says in that breathy voice you love so much.
he moves out, then back in, steadily picking up his pace as you get more comfortable. you have to give it to him, the kid knows how to use his hips.
“mmm…you feel so good around me,” chris grumbles, lifting your leg a little higher.
he hits a new spot, and it sends delicious waves of pleasure through your body.
“yes, right there!” your eyes screw shut, and his free hand goes to reach for your tits.
“fuck ma, i can feel you squeezing. taking it just like a good girl.”
such a pretty mouth saying such dirty things, things you didn’t think you’d ever in a million years hear from your friend. and yet, it feels exactly like it should.
he’s practically pounding into you now, and the little noises he makes drive you crazy. his free hand shifts so his thumb rubs against your clit, and you feel your core seize up.
“chris!” you cry out, and that damn smirk crosses his face again.
“tell em, angel. tell them exactly who you want.”
his fingers feel so good combined with his strokes, and this time the building pressure in your stomach is too much. you know you don’t have a lot longer left as your body begins to shudder.
“fuck, chris, i’m so close—”
“just a little longer, hang on for me.” he says, movements growing sloppier as he reaches his own peak.
his nails dig into the skin of your thigh, a bit of pain that is not unwelcomed. chris circles his other fingers around you faster, and you let out an even louder gasp.
“i’m—”
“fuck, me too. come on baby, come all over me.” he cuts you off, and you feel him twitch inside of you as he finishes with a groan.
“shit!” you ride out your own high, releasing onto his dick as he slows to a stop. you’re both completely breathless and sweaty as he pulls out, and you immediately feel at loss.
he leans down to give you a little peck before collapsing beside you.
“i’ve seriously dreamed about that so many times.” chris says, arm splayed across his chest as he stares into your eyes.
you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. “stop it.”
he’s quiet for a moment, and you peek through your fingers to look at him.
“you know this means more to me, right? you mean more to me.” he speaks softly, like he’s scared of how you’ll react.
you finally reveal yourself again, smiling more widely than you’d care to admit.
“good, cuz the feelings mutual.”
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gyuvision · 5 months
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strawberry soju -> [back to masterlist?]
pairing : exes to ?? hong seunghan x fem reader
contains -> : drinking, mention of alcohol/being drunk
wc : 0.9k
preview ! - your drunken ex boyfriend calls you up out of nowhere, leaving him under your care for the night when he doesnt want you to go.
continue? ⬇️
you groaned at the sound of your phone buzzing once again. after all, it really does get annoying when its been 3 minutes and 7 missed calls.
“who could be calling so late? 10pm on a friday..”
setting down the ramen cup and pausing your favorite show, you swipe to accept the call, holding the phone up to your ear without checking the caller id. “hello? whos this?”
“y/nniee? that you?” the person slurred.
you knew that voice all too well, you didn’t even have to look at the contact name. “seunghan.” you sighed.
“you finally answered.” he exclaimed. you could practically hear his stupid smile.
“been drinking again?” you said, already knowing by his tone of voice.
“just.. a little tipsy..”
“are you-” you were cut off by someone elses voice.
“sorry y/n. he had a lot to drink.” eunseok joined in. “you mind getting seunghan? i know its.. awkward still. but my parents are supposed to go out soon, and i don’t want to leave my brother by himself.”
“hes sooo drunk that he seems to think you’re still together. he’s been asking for you all night!” sungchan snickered somewhere in the background.
“uh.. send me your location then? i guess its fine just this once. he wont even remember it in the morning.”
so you found yourself driving to a well known local restaurant to pick up your ex boyfriend. even though it was your choice, you couldnt help but wonder why you were doing this.
and you also couldn’t help but feel bad at the thought of seunghan being so drunk to the point he still thinks you’re dating.
“y/n, over here!” sungchan called out to you as you entered the building.
“wheres eunseok?”
“you just missed him. he had to go because he’s too worried about his brother.”
“my y/n! you’re here!” seunghan squealed going to pull you into a tight hug.
you awkwardly pat his head in return instead of hugging back. though you couldn’t say that you didn’t miss his touch.
sungchan helped you both to the car before he took off as well.
“god you smell like.. like, strawberry soju?” you exclaimed. “you really reek of alcohol. how much did you drink?”
seunghan replied by holding up 9 fingers, a lazy smile across his face and his eyes closed, with his cheeks a bright pink. “9 shots?” you scoffed as you set course for seunghans house.
“babyy.” seunghan whined. “im not your baby.” “you’ll always be my baby.” he teased back.
you sighed as you rubbed your forehead in frustration. “what do you want?”
“aircon please. i feel hot.” he mumbled as he tugged at the collar of his shirt.
you sank into your seat after turning on the air conditioning, putting up with how cold you were so he could feel better. after all, he was a bit of a liability right now though.
you walked up to seunghans apartment with him leaning into your shoulder while he had one arm around you for support.
“whats your code?” you asked, opening his keypad as you assumed he changed the password after your break up.
“same as always. your birthday. i would never change it.”
you’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t soften even in the slightest.
after changing seunghans shirt for him then getting him tucked into the sheets, you went to get up to get ready and go home before he pulled you back into the bed with him.
“please dont go.” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around you, burying his head into your neck with a small whine.
“but didn’t you think that we..” “nah. just wanted to believe that we were. feel more confident when i’m that drunk.”
“im sorry.”
“why did you leave me?”
though seunghan had said some crazy things that night, nothing would’ve prepared you for that.
“seunghan..”
“i dont care about it anymore then. just dont leave me again. even if its only for today.”
you turned around in his grasp to press a light kiss into his forehead. “promise.”
you decided, maybe it wouldnt be so bad to spend the night. you realize you wouldnt mind being happy with seunghan again even if it meant that he wouldnt remember any of it.
‘but might as well, cause i cant help myself.’ [1:36]
..
‘i dont ever wanna know how it feels to not have you, my strawberry soju.’ [1:51]
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luveline · 2 months
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Hi jade I have a hotch request! But u can do with any of the other boys too if you prefer! It's a bit personal but a few years ago someone kissed and then groped me without my consent and now I'm too anxious to kiss anyone even when it's someone I like :( would be willing to write a cute lil hotch comfort fic where may be he goes to kiss reader and she seizes up and just hotch being so patient but also angry on her behalf
Hotch sees you, and he gets this unshakeable happiness that starts in his hands and moves its way through him. He feels young, like he could take you dancing, or send you drinks from across the bar. 
You might accept them. You’re smiling at him from around the stem of a cherry, the corners of your eyes crushed together in a dark smudge of lashes. He waits a beat before taking the stem and pulling against your lips, where it snaps. This is hilarious to you —you giggle infectiously behind your hand, turning away from him and back again, almost like you’d wanted to do something and thought better of it. 
He’s doing that all the time lately. He wants to kiss you more than anything, feel the bubble of your laughter on his lips, and taste the sweetness of your drink where it lingers. Your mouth is stained black cherry as you swallow, and touch his arm in thanks. 
Now, he thinks to himself carefully, is the time. There’s no better time to kiss you than this. You’ve said yes to the date, teased him in the car about his being the nervous one, and you’re smiling at him with that slight sparkle of excitement. He assumes it to be an invitation, and it’s his mistake. 
Hotch takes your cheek into his hand, too focused on remembering how it feels to want to kiss someone to realise the look on your face until you’re turning into his hand. Not just turning, hiding, angling your shoulder away from him, and then pulling away from his hand completely. 
Hotch thinks, oh. Thinks, fuck. Thinks he should’ve asked first, because now you’re trembling, the most minute of shakes wracking your arm where it’s still on the bar, your fingers white wrapped around your glass. He caught you off guard. He’s missed something big. 
Hotch drops his hand from your face. For a moment, there’s a raw quiet between you, like you’re trying to decide who should talk first but neither is brave enough to actually decide. 
He knows this might be wrong again, but he touches your arm, resting his fingers flat and gentle against your skin. Slowly, he rubs a line over your skin and the fine hairs on your wrist. “What’s wrong?” he asks quietly. It can’t be about him. Hotch is confident in his ability to profile emotion even if he’s messed this up, so he knows it’s not necessarily him. You’re upset. “Are you okay?” 
“Fine.” 
“I’m sorry,” he apologises without reluctance. Even if your reaction isn’t purely from his action, it is him who spurred it on. 
You touch his wrist with your pinky finger. He doesn’t know if it’s purposeful or accidental. 
“Honey, are you alright? You’re shaking.” 
You don’t talk for a while. He can almost see you putting your words together, blushed lips parting before you speak. “A few months ago, this man I’d never met kissed me, and then he grabbed me. I mean, he groped me,” —you mumble the last part, eyes steadfast on his chest— “so I don’t think you’re gonna do that to me, but I get stressed out sometimes.” 
“You’re anxious it will happen again.” 
“It wasn’t fun.” 
“No, I wouldn’t think so.” 
He cares about you beyond wanting to kiss you, and hearing someone’s hurt you makes him furious, but it also makes him sorry. He has to tamp down the urge to hug you. He reminds himself to ask. 
“Honey, can I hug you?”
“Sorry, I’m being awkward,” you say. He shakes his head. You take a half step forward. “Please.” 
Hotch is careful to hug you kindly. No squeezing or rough hands, just a hug. “I’m sorry for trying to kiss you without asking. I thought you… I read the situation wrongly.” 
“No, Hotch, I did want you to kiss me. I still do.” You curl your hand at his side. “Sorry. I just need some warning.” 
“I can tell you days in advance,” he promises. 
“You aren’t mad?” 
“Of course not. Not at you… I don’t suppose you know the man who assaulted you?” 
You pull away from him ever so slightly, bringing your gaze to his face with a similar shade of tentativeness. “Does it matter?” 
“Only if you wanted me to do something about it,” he says. “But otherwise, no, it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry either way. You deserve to be treated with dignity and respect and it’s not fair that that happened to you.” 
“Kind of heavy for a first date,” you laugh. 
To his relief, it’s a real laugh. He thinks he might’ve said the right thing, and he’s glad for it, his arm still held carefully behind your back, the lights of the bar hot against his neck. This would’ve been an unfortunate time and place to have upset you worse, and to express his regret.
“I really am sorry. Let me know if there’s something I can do.” 
You lift up on your toes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you. I’d love another drink, if that’s okay.” 
He orders you another cherry vodka sour with extra cherries, and after a warm half an hour in which he tries to prove he can be trusted to treat you gently, you fold your arm behind his back.
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jvnluvr · 1 year
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blue lock boys when they are drunk ♡
when the blue lock boys come home drunk, all they want is you.
ft. sae, rin & kaiser x f!reader
author’s note: im a sucker for my favs okay? fluffiest fluff i’ve ever written i almost cried ten different times send help hsish. also thank you all for 100 followers, i love u all sm mwah. i’m working on requests, they will come soon! otherwise please enjoy <33
itoshi sae:
god, he didn’t even know how he ended up in this position. all sae could remember was losing his game, walking out of that stadium with his usual blank expression, but then his legs took him to the nearest bar. he’s so drunk, heck, he even remembers smoking a cigarette or two while he was chugging down everything. he's overcome with a lot of emotions, but then he remembers.
he wants to go home. he’s up, and he’s walking home. it’s late, its dark, yet he’s still able to somehow manage to get to the front step before he knocks on the door, holding onto it because he’ll fall if he doesn’t. that’s when you open the door and sae falls into your arms. "sae-? what happened?" you ask, trying your best to not let him fall while shutting the door.
you already knew he lost, you were obviously watching the streamed game. but when sae loses, he shuts everyone out for a day at the very least. however, it's weird to find him falling onto you, at your doorstep, and incredibly late at night. he smells like cigarettes, and that's when you understand what is going on.
"sit down, i'll get you water." you guide him to the couch, slowly trying to let go of his arm so you can lie down, but he doesn't let go of you. instead, he pulls you down with him so you're lying down on top of him. "uh, what's this about? you gonna talk to me..?" to say you're confused right now is kind of an understatement. sae hasn't spoken a word to you since he entered, just mindless grumbles and sighs until now, where it's almost like he's searching into your eyes for something.
"y'know, you're a whole lot prettier up close, right?"
what..?
your eyes probably looked bugged right now. you know he's not sober, but when people are drunk, their true feelings come out. sae's never really been an openly affectionate man, you knew that from the moment you met him. so hearing him suddenly throw a compliment into your face has you stunned to say the least.
"c'mon don't look at me like that... this is new to me too.." he mumbles, a red tint starting to appear on his cheeks. he grabs you by your waist to sit you on his lap, and you start to turn red too. "seriously, what's gotten into you sae?" you ask quietly, you both letting out a small chuckle as you stare at each other.
"i don' know.. it's your fault." you tilt your head as his one hand intertwines with yours. "you have beautiful eyes too.. you know that?" you let out a little gasp as your eyes avert away from him. you can feel your ears getting hotter and hotter as each seconds by. now you're actually worried, since when has he thought of these things?
sae put a hand on your cheek to turn you back to him. he has that soft smile plastered onto his face. your gaze softens as he continues talking to you. "you've always had.. that bright light in your eyes... even the first night we met. 't was what got me so interested in you." you bite your lip at that, small water drops forming into your eyes. it wasn't possible for your heart to not melt as those words. "the only thing.. i could think about.. was how much i liked you. how much my heart yearned for you. for how happy i am, to have you in my life now."
he wipes a tear of yours while eliciting that little soft but deep chuckle you always adored. "c'mon, don't cry, was just being honest.." he hugged you, burying his face into your neck and closing his eyes. you were almost certain that after that the alcohol consumed him, that he was too drowsy to even remember all the words he just said. but it's okay. for the chance you got to see itoshi sae confess his love in his own way. you whispered out an "i love you' before falling asleep beside him.
michael kaiser:
"babyy, i'm homee!" yeah, he was definitely slurring over each word he said. you walked out the kitchen, staring as kaiser almost fell atleast 5 times trying to walk over to you. it was hard to try and not laugh at how adorable he was being all tipsy, it was like he was a little child again.
“michael.” you giggled, trying to get him to sit on the chair but you both fell against each other on the floor. “that hurt!” his cheeks are more than just flushed and his eyes are half open. "who are ya, and where's my girlfriend?" to be honest, you were kind of hurt that he couldn't recognize you even while you were right in his face, but kaiser can be a little slow even when sober.
"c'mon michael, 'is me, your girlfriend." you retorted, wrapping your arms around him in an attempt to get him to sit down on a chair. but of course, kaiser being kaiser doesn't want to be apart from you for even a second, so he pulls you onto his lap. "i know, 'was just messin' with ya. i'm not that drunk, y'know?" you could only blankly stare at him as he confessed to that. even the dumbest person alive could tell that lie straight through his teeth.
"you are seriously not gonna tell me you aren't THAT drunk. you slipped over the fuckin' air." you both looked at each other, slightly grinning at that. silence. ah there it is, you both burst out laughing not even a second after, because you know it was true. "honestly though, you REEK of alcohol, go shower or somethin'." you tried getting off his lap, you really did. but does he care? of course not.
"no, 'm gonna stay here, too tired to shower..." you let out a small sigh at that, but if he wasn't going to get into the shower, you weren't going to let him doze off in his uncomfy chair. both of your backs couldn't take that kind of pain right now. "okay okay, we're both tired, let's go to bed, hm?" kaiser quietly grumbled as a counter, not wanting to let you go. at that point, your sounds started to sound more grumpy. you should have dragged him to bed when you had the chance.
"hiii babyy, i love you." kaiser suddenly said, with a smile hanging ear to ear. you didn't know what he was up to, but you just quietly ignored his statement of affection. "you're really cute when you're grumpy," he added, followed by a bunch of little mischievous giggles. "but you're cute all the time, so it makes it absolutelyyy irresistible to stay mad at you." you're so embarrassed by kaiser's sudden overload of compliments that, you start to playfully hit him? one hit to the arm, one hit to the head, and you continue in order to stop being so flustered by the drunk man in front of you.
"ow! i literally said you're cute, why are you hitting me- stop! ow!" even if you were hitting him, kaiser couldn't help but let out more laughs when he realized why you were hitting him. "aww, you're embarrased, aren't ya?" he pressed you for a kiss, but you just put your hand over his mouth to push him back. you couldn't take being more abashed over your extraordinarily drunk boyfriend.
"if you're not gonna accept my love, let me properly confess it, alrightt?" again, you were too afraid to even blurt out a single world in fear of stuttering and having kaiser coo into your ear about how cute you were. so you just looked at him, waiting for him to continue his speech. "got your attention, pretty? i've had a crush on you since the first time i met you, like the biggest crush ever, like the moment i saw you i swear those hearts appeared in my eyes like they do in cartoon shows." he was stuttering as the alcohol was still rushing in his system, but kaiser sounded like a little boy who had been lovestruck with the mere thought of you.
"you're so stupid sometimes.." you mumbled, but nonetheless giddy with happiness and love. "maybe, but i'm stupidly in love with you." all you could do was let out a sheepish smile before pulling him into a hug. "i love you.." and that was followed with snores. you didn't really plan on how to move kaiser out of this awkward position, but what you did know that he was a pretty cute lovestruck man when he was drunk.
itoshi rin:
rin isn't one to typically get drunk, he's not even one to have maybe more than three shots of alcohol at most. but tonight, he went completely overboard. maybe the drinks just tasted good, maybe he had lost his mind. not the matter of how he got drunk, but he was stumbling into your shared apartment when you just barely saw you peeking through your bedroom door through his blurry eyes.
"rin, are you okay..?" you murmured, slowing walking towards him. "mm, 'm fine, were you sleeping?" even if he was on the verge of passing out, rin was one of those guys who was able to maintain his composure. he didn't like how he felt, so he stride towards the kitchen, aching for a glass of water. "was waiting for you, did you drink, rin?" he turned around to see you standing there waiting for him.
"mhm, sorry, don't know what got over me. wait in the room for me, i'll be in there soon." he replied, turning back around to put his glass in the sink, but when he shifted back, he could still see you waiting his in peripheral vision. "what are you waiting for, [name]?" rin asked, still feeling the horrible effects of the alcohol continuing to flow through his blood stream. "i told you, 'm waiting for you." you knew that if you went back, he would fall asleep on the nearby couch, heck even fall and just pass out on the floor, he was drunk out of his mind.
"alright, c'mon let's go." he slowly trailed behind you, the cold air hitting him in the face when he realized he feels way too hot. rin slowly discards his jacket and his shirt, moving to lie down with you. but the one thing he couldn't help but notice is that you didn't make direct eye contact with him, your eyes are averted in every direction except his, why is that? maybe the reason he hated alcohol so much is because of what it does to him. he wants your attention, he craves for your touch, it's weird to him.
so rin extends his arm towards you, he has a hold on your waist before you're too close to him. "what's wrong..?" he examines you, how you're still not looking into his eyes. "look at me, why aren't you looking at me honey?" he's surprised that it does the trick, because your eyes are finally in his direct field of view, and his heart melts. "nothin', just thought you might have wanted to sleep, so didn't wanna' bother you." you answered shyly, realizing now that he wanted nothing more than you. it's silent for a bit, just the both of you in each other's embrace, lying down in the dark.
"mm, you don't bother me, you know that?" he starts, rin doesn't realize that all of sudden he's rambling to you. "i say you shouldn't be nervous but the truth is.. i'm always a bit nervous around you. we've been together for a while but.. i don't know.. i just.. always want to know more about you. it drives me insane sometimes, 'cause i don't usually care about people like that. but for you i just-" he's pulling you closer into your chest, noticing how your grip tightens on him as he continues speaking. "i just want to know every tiny detail about you. i notice the small things about you. the way your smile goes slightly down, you touch the tip of your eyes when your embarrassed, and you always touch the same spot-" he intertwines his hands with yours, rubbing over the spot he's just about to mention. "you always touch the same spot of your hand when you're focused. i pay attention to those things because i care about you, i hope you knew that."
"rin.." you whisper, it's all you could physically verbalize. but all you could feel were the hot tears you were spilling onto his chest. you felt guilty, quickly trying to wipe them away, but he looked down to hush your sobs. "'m sorry, didn't wanna make you cry. i meant it though, even if i don't say it much." it's undeniable that you just want to be even closer to him than humanely possible, you wouldn't dare think of even letting him go for a second after that. "i think you should get drunk more often," which dragged a small string of chuckles from you two. "being drunk sucks, but we can compromise and i'll try and tell you how much i love and want to be with you more, yea?" rin shared, fumbling over his words. yep, still definitely drunk.
"mhm, go to sleep now, 'kay?" you acknowledged, content with how tonight turned out to be. "you go to sleep too, i love you." and rin let himself pass out in the comfort of your presence. not only until a few moments later could you say 'i love you' back, but he was secretly waiting to fall asleep until he heard confirmation of your feelings.
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runa-falls · 1 month
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*raise hand violently* PLEASE CAN I ASK ABOUT sub!miguel headcanons?!?!?!?!?!
What makes him whine, how pretty does his whimpers sound like?!?!?!
How gorgeous does he look when his eyes get all shiny and wet with tears because you won't let him come yet.
sub!miguel headcanons
basic summary: miguel is the whiniest, most pushy malewife and you are his protector, comforter, and safe space :3
a/n: OK BETTER LATE THAN NEVER RIGHT? (im so sorry lmfaooo) also does it count as headcanons if i have random scenes in between them?? wtvr *shoves fic in ur arms and sprints away*
content: suggestive + fluffy
masterlist
---
bed habits (I'M TALKING AB SLEEPING YOU DIRTY BASTARD!) -- miguel is a sleepy, cuddly boy
he never has trouble falling asleep when you're around (except for when he - adorably - forces himself to stay awake so he can spend time with you)
this man is 6'7" but he still tries to curl up on your lap when you're lounging on the couch just so you can play with his hair as he dozes off
miguel owns a king sized bed, big enough to fit five people comfortably, yet he's adamant to take up all your space
it gets hot (i mean, he's hot -- literally, like his internal temp is higher than the average human) but even when you try to shove him away, he only pulls you closer to him
if you do, somehow, get away from him, he wakes up immediately with a sleepy groan, blindly reaching across the mattress for you:
you try to dodge his hands, laying precariously at the edge of the bed, hoping he would give up and go back to sleep. unfortunately, it only makes him whine like a spoiled child, "baby, closer. need you...come here" god -- he has such a cute sleepy voice...
but you don't let it sway you. you're already laying on top of the comforter, desperately trying to cool off and get back to sleep.
"it's too hot, miguel"
"but...i can't sleep without you" you can hear the pout in his voice
"just hold a pillow and pretend its me"
he sighs -- actually sighs like the dramatic man he is, "but it's not the same!"
you don't respond, refusing to continue this 3 am argument that you'll never win, and pretend to fall back asleep. maybe he will practice self-soothing or something and sleep by himself? maybe he'll be an adult about this?
silence settles in the air for a few minutes and you're nearly lulled back to unconsciousness. and then you hear the sheets rustle as he sits up next to you, suddenly fully awake and stubbornly staring down at you.
"please?"
"mig, no amount of 'pleases' will convince me to sleep against your volcanic body"
"...how about just until I fall asleep?"
"but when I move away you'll wake up again."
you hear a quiet 'hmph' before you're promptly tugged back against his body. his face presses against your hair as he situates himself to engulf you in his warmth. "exactly, so don't leave me."
it's a common misconception that sub!mig likes to be the little spoon but actually he likes to cling onto you like you're a living teddy bear -- face nuzzled against your neck, legs intertwined with yours, and one large hand on your tit
you often wake up in a tangled mess, your neck stiff from the contorted positions he maneuvers your body into during the night
but you don't mind it anymore, especially on those rare morning swhen you wake up before him and you get to see those worry lines on his forehead soften as he sleeps soundly next to you
miguel is a soft and eager man:
it's his life mission to provide for you, to hear soft words of praise whisper from your lips
as soon as you're alone in a room, he drops the tough guy act and immediately searches for your warmth
miguel sticks to you like velcro when he isn't fighting crime in the city
and when he isn't with you, he's absolutely thinking about you
(of course he makes sure that you're thinking about him too with all the texts he sends you throughout the day -- adorned with cheesy emojis...)
this dude is so needy and desperate for your love, praise and approval that he's the one asking "would you still love me if i were a spider-mutant worm and i looked at you like this: 🐛 to say 'i love you'?"
would he call you 'mami'? debatable.
but he loves it when you call him honey, sweetheart, baby, bubby/bubs, hubby (he wants to marry you so bad), and puppy (WHEN HE'S KINKY BC HE'S A HORNY SOB)
you swear he whimpers a little when you tell him what a good man he is -- when you confess that he's your hero, even when he's not swinging around the city and lifting up buildings with his bare hands
his warm brown eyes search your face, a desperate quest for truth in every gentle word you speak. he's never been spoken to so softly in his life -- this tenderness, it's new...too good to be true
as time passes and your love deepens, he begins to realize that it's all true, that everthing about you is genuine, that he is loveable after all
miguel worships you:
he is definitely a worshipper when you let him be
on slower, more sensual nights, he makes sure to paint your body in kisses, from your ankles to your forehead it's almost tortuous
(maybe even bites if it's been a while since he's seen you)
he likes to kneel for you, make himself smaller so he can look up at you and appreciate everything you've provided for him
he's really whiny and pathetic though...
he wants to be told what to do, when to do it, and how. it helps him let go of this thoughts, anything that's weighing on him
it could be his heightened senses or just his desperation, but he needs to touch you all the time -- even just the light feeling of his hand against your thigh gives him a euphoric feeling.
so you deny him because you know how much he loves the delayed gratification and humiliation when you tease him for it.
"baby, you're acting so needy right now~" you decided to withdraw from the heated interaction to keep him at the edge. his eyes are dark, blazing with heat, as you speak to him with a syrupy sweet voice.
he pouts from the spot where he's kneeling for you, already achingly hard from the thorough petting session you just gave him.
"i'm not trying to be...just really need it." he's whining with a mixture of shame, frustration, and exasperation in his voice.
"It?" you tilt your head, a small smile gracing your lips.
"..." he doesn't elaborate. you can see a hint of pinkness creep up his neck as his eyes avoid yours.
he can get so shy sometimes. it's endearing. it makes you want to destroy him then put him back together again.
"honey, i can't give you what you need unless you tell me." you know what he wants, but you want to hear him say it.
"please"
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