#but i guess that's a good thing because the possibilities are endless
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planet-poptropica · 2 years ago
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ringmaster raven has a giant crow (or raven i think) machine in monster carnival island......i wonder if it can be turn into ai? >_>
⋆ Now that's an interesting concept, considering what it was built for. Since it doesn't really have a mind of it's own, it's leaves a lot of questions of what it's A.I. form would be like. Would the A.I. have the ability to turn people into monsters? o.o What would their name be, and would it's personality be like? Hm...⋆
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farkenshnoffingottom · 11 months ago
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My university has also turned ai detection off, thankfully. Another reblog on this post said turnitin uses 'unusual grammar' as evidence of ai, which is such a big problem. It's not just ESL students, either, it also targets first gen students, people from poor school districts who've never gotten individual attention from a teacher because classes are too big, etc., and disproportionately POCs, even if English is their first language. I teach intro/gen ed courses, and so many of my students have never been taught how to write in an 'academic' way, and that's the kind of stuff that gets pinged by turnitin
I'm gonna echo op and say they're also just bad essays. No specific evidence is not a dead giveaway, because many of my students don't use evidence in the way I've asked them to, but it is already a mark against the essay. A major giveaway I've seen is suddenly switching topics to something that's not really connected, but I've also got a lot of students who just never learned how to use transitions, so I can't assume it's ai. So the official guidance from my department lines up with my own strategy of just grading it like it's a student-written paper, and that leaves us with all of the previously stated problems
Op's right about really bad papers making me grumpy when grading, and I try to step away and come back to an essay later when that happens to see if I was being unfair, but usually it's still not anywhere near meeting the assignment requirements. My own advice to students: showing us you're trying can really make a difference. Grading is subjective, and one of the things that makes me more generous in how I'm grading something is if you've emailed me or we've had a conversation beforehand. Partly it's just that I now recognize your name out of a class of too many to count, and that shows me you're engaged and trying. But also, it means that when I come across a point that isn't really clear in your writing, I have a sense of what you were trying to say, and it becomes a matter of your writing missing the mark rather than you not understanding the subject, and that has much more wiggle room (I don't like making this assumption, but when the only interaction I have from someone is an essay that doesn't make sense, I don't really have another reference point)
An important message to college students: Why you shouldn't use ChatGPT or other "AI" to write papers.
Here's the thing: Unlike plagiarism, where I can always find the exact source a student used, it's difficult to impossible to prove that a student used ChatGPT to write their paper. Which means I have to grade it as though the student wrote it.
So if your professor can't prove it, why shouldn't you use it?
Well, first off, it doesn't write good papers. Grading them as if the student did write it themself, so far I've given GPT-enhanced papers two Ds and an F.
If you're unlucky enough to get a professor like me, they've designed their assignments to be hard to plagiarize, which means they'll also be hard to get "AI" to write well. To get a good paper out of ChatGPT for my class, you'd have to write a prompt that's so long, with so many specifics, that you might as well just write the paper yourself.
ChatGPT absolutely loves to make broad, vague statements about, for example, what topics a book covers. Sadly for my students, I ask for specific examples from the book, and it's not so good at that. Nor is it good at explaining exactly why that example is connected to a concept from class. To get a good paper out of it, you'd have to have already identified the concepts you want to discuss and the relevant examples, and quite honestly if you can do that it'll be easier to write your own paper than to coax ChatGPT to write a decent paper.
The second reason you shouldn't do it?
IT WILL PUT YOUR PROFESSOR IN A REALLY FUCKING BAD MOOD. WHEN I'M IN A BAD MOOD I AM NOT GOING TO BE GENEROUS WITH MY GRADING.
I can't prove it's written by ChatGPT, but I can tell. It does not write like a college freshman. It writes like a professional copywriter churning out articles for a content farm. And much like a large language model, the more papers written by it I see, the better I get at identifying it, because it turns out there are certain phrases it really, really likes using.
Once I think you're using ChatGPT I will be extremely annoyed while I grade your paper. I will grade it as if you wrote it, but I will not grade it generously. I will not give you the benefit of the doubt if I'm not sure whether you understood a concept or not. I will not squint and try to understand how you thought two things are connected that I do not think are connected.
Moreover, I will continue to not feel generous when calculating your final grade for the class. Usually, if someone has been coming to class regularly all semester, turned things in on time, etc, then I might be willing to give them a tiny bit of help - round a 79.3% up to a B-, say. If you get a 79.3%, you will get your C+ and you'd better be thankful for it, because if you try to complain or claim you weren't using AI, I'll be letting the college's academic disciplinary committee decide what grade you should get.
Eventually my school will probably write actual guidelines for me to follow when I suspect use of AI, but for now, it's the wild west and it is in your best interest to avoid a showdown with me.
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risuola · 5 months ago
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ENTRY #11 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I starve for your touch yet fear to savor it.
contents: arranged marriage!au, nudity, reader discretion is advised — wc. 1690
a/n: there was no way i wouldn't write a fic based on this picture. just no way.
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Satoru loves to sleep naked.
The beauty of his innate technique, the blessing that he mastered to no end, has stripped him off one of the most basic human needs — touch. He wasn’t missing it that much, he thought, but there was something in letting go of everything and allowing himself to be wrapped in the silky layers of bedsheets that made his body crave the feeling.
He has always picked expensive garments, the ones with soft fabrics and luxurious feel, despite everyone telling him it’s unreasonable to spend so much on a shirt or a pair of trousers, but to him, it did matter. To him, that was the only thing touching his body when a thin layer of infinity effectively forced everything else back. To Satoru, touch was forbidden, threatening. It was a vulnerability that he, the strongest, couldn’t afford.
But that until he’s met you. Until he’s married you.
You were one of not many people he’s made an exception for. You were able to touch him whenever you wanted because the protective surface of endless matter let you in. Because he himself altered his technique to make you capable of laying your hands on his body.
He longed for your touch. So soft, and delicate, and warm. He craved more of it and yet, despite being shameless and confident, he has not allowed himself to sleep bare even once since the day you and him were bound by the knot of matrimony. It would cross boundaries he wasn’t sure you’d wish to cross; it would make you uncomfortable, awkward maybe — and he liked the way your relationship looked like now. He liked the late evenings you talked quietly, alone and intimate in the warm embrace of sheets and your own house.
For you, he let go of the way he used to sleep before because you were worth the sacrifice, but now, you were gone for few days. You were sent on a mission away from Tokyo and the hours Satoru spent alone in bed, thinking of nothing more but your fingertips on top of his skin, made him desperate — and so, he allowed himself the comfort of soft cotton and silk.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
You were tired. Exhausted even, by the intense fight you had to pull through, by the uncomfortable nights spent in the dingy hotel room, by the humid weather and rains. In moments like this, there was nothing you envied more in the world than your husband’s ability to warp from one place to another, but you got lucky. Incredibly so, because Ijichi offered you a ride home two days earlier than you were supposed to head back and you thanked all gods and devils for that man’s kindness. He was willing to put on some more road just to get you home.
“Thank you so, so much, Ijichi,” you kissed his cheek — a ghost of a peck that made him all red and steamy and you felt giddy for a moment, seeing the tips of his ears turn crimson. Adorable. You liked him, he was dutiful, polite, trustworthy and constantly terrorized by your husband, so you were determined to at least be the Gojo he likes.
“You’re very welcome,” he mumbled and fixed the frames on the bridge of his nose, pushing them up with the tip of his pointer finger. “Have a good rest.”
“You too, Ijichi.”
Then, he was gone and you were stepping into the house with a deep sense of relief washing over you. Home sweet home. If you were to guess, it was most likely somewhere around 4 am, way too early for anyone to be up — especially your husband — so you gave it your all to stay as quiet as possible. The sun was just showing its first rays from way below the horizon line, crawling up with golden hues and breaking the nightly, navy darkness.
On your toes you moved across the house. It seemed as if Gojo was spending his time alone quite ordinarily — you saw a modest stack of empty takeout boxes, much less humble pile of candy wrappers and his uniform jacket thrown over the couch backrest, along with few other little items that you struggled to differentiate in the nocturnal haze.
You put down your bag, hung up your coat and pushed off the shoes. Ghosting your way towards the bathroom, you were desperate to wash away the combat residuals. You lathered up the shower gel in a rush, desperate to rest and sleep in the comfort of your own bed and then, wrapped in the towel, you tippy-toed to the bedroom, but—
“Came back earlier?”
—you truly didn’t expect to be met with a sight like this. Your husband was awake, just barely, most likely awaken by the water running in the bathroom. His eyes were closed, hidden underneath his forearm and shielded from the lights that were slowly creeping inside, between the dark curtains and onto his face. His body seemed relaxed between the sheets. The softest, gentlest lines of golden glimmer that painted its patterns over his uncovered chest and leg, his hip and one of the muscular arms. The duvet was covering less than half of him, hiding a part of his stomach, the other leg and—
“You’re staring.”
Satoru didn’t even have to look at you to know that your gaze was lingering on his frame. On his very, very naked frame, just barely concealed by the comforter.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks and reaching the tips of your ears and you thanked the darkness for hiding it away. You walked around the bed, hoping to find your pajama where you left it and trying to force your head out of the gutter. You heard your husband letting out a deep exhale and then, a soft hum. His voice was as melodic as always, though you could tell how much sleepiness was laced into it.
Satoru should’ve notice you when you entered the area of your house, but he didn’t. Tired by his own job, by the classes and all of the meetings, he allowed himself to lower his guard and when he realized you’re home, he contemplated for a moment getting up and dressed, but he just didn’t want to.
“You’re exhausted, screw pajamas, just come here,” he said before he managed to think twice about it. It was a daring offer, inappropriate even and he opened his mouth to apologize for it, but then, you rendered him speechless.
Your weight felt good on top of him. You lay your body over his own with feathery gentleness and carefully maneuvered your way to rest on his chest completely. The touch of your skin flush to his own made his brain to short circuit, it felt divine, too good to be true and just so very right, he couldn’t say a word.
“Is that alright?” You asked quietly, pressing your ear right above his heart and letting out a breath that you held for a little too long. Your face felt hot, you were flushed and flustered but also oddly at ease with the current position and you wondered for a moment if it was the tiredness that made you so bold.
“More than that,” he replied, pulling the covers to hide you beneath them. He allowed one of his arms to snake around your waist and his lips to kiss the top of your head. “Rest. Sleep well, wifey.”
“Good night.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
10:19 AM
Satoru thought he was dreaming, but the weight on top of him felt too real. The soft scent of citrusy shower gel that lingered on your skin filled in his lungs each time he took a breath in and there was a tickle, he realized — every time his chest raised, a strand of your hair seemed to be moving against his jawline. You were not a dream.
He opened his eyes, blinking few times, adjusting them to the bright light that forced its way into the bedroom and then, he looked at you. You were still very deep asleep, he could tell based off the long inhales you were taking, slow and relaxed, fanning against his peck rhythmically. Your body was mostly on top of him, you were on his chest, your leg was between his and only your hips were resting on the bed. He still had his arm around you, as if making sure you were as close as possible.
It felt incredible. Intimate. It was everything he could have wished for. A touch, skin to skin, so intense it almost took his breath away. He felt nauseous at the thought, realizing that it’s the first time in his life, he’s that close to someone. So impossibly close that just a little bit more and you’d become a part of him. His heartbeat quickened.
It was so right. So awfully correct and at the same time, so very threatening. He felt helpless. Vulnerable. He was at your mercy, he was robbed of everything what made him the strongest, because at this very moment, he was bare. Uncovered before you, wrapped in an embrace that felt loving, that felt soothing, addicting, but if you only wished to hurt him, you’d—
You moved, shifting your weight a little bit, adjusting the position and the way your hand run down his side made him shiver. A soft sound escaped your throat when you let out a deeper exhale. He felt your fingers squeezing the flesh above his hip and then, you relaxed again.
“Your heart is beating so fast,” you whispered, not bothering to open your eyes, and Satoru held his breath. “Relax…”
And he chuckled. His chest vibrated below your ear and the adorable sound of displeasure you let out made him lose all of the tension. He turned, twisting his body inside your embrace to face you fully and he squeezed you with both of his arms, pulling you close. So impossibly close, and you whimpered, suddenly enclosed in a tight hold of your husband’s limbs. That was it for your sleep.
You could get used to it.
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atlabeth · 3 months ago
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family line
pt 2
pairing: spencer reid x gideon!reader
a/n: pardon the end where i just go into endless conversation for no reason but i cannot control myself. anyways thank you sosososo much for all the love on the last part and gideon!reader as a whole it makes me so happy!! enjoy some dad-daughter-spence car convos(arguing) and some elle time
wc: 3.8k
warning(s): the usual! r and gideon argue, gideon is not a good dad(but theres some reconciliation), angst, hurt/comfort, but some fluff between r and gideon & spence. more of a set-up chapter
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The drive over to the safe house is a long one, and unfortunately, not a quiet one. 
Spencer takes the back seat, leaving shotgun for you with your dad. He spends the entirety of the drive briefing you on what living in a safe house will entail, all the things you can and can’t do. 
You can’t use your phone because it could be tracked. You can’t leave the place without Spencer because you are, in fact, being stalked. You’re not to reveal anything about your location to anyone—you’re basically shut off from the world until the unsub is behind bars. 
And once he’s done briefing you, he basically starts interrogating you. 
“Have you been contacted like this before in any way?” 
You huff a laugh. “What, with creepy pictures of myself? No.” 
“Anything unsettling,” he clarifies. “A text message, a call, an email— anything that rubbed you the wrong way that you might’ve just passed off as a joke or spam.” 
“No,” you repeat. 
“You’re sure?” 
“How many times do I have to say no?” You pull your phone out of your pocket and stare at your dad. “Go through it if you want. You won’t find anything.” 
He pauses, then he nods. “Reid.” 
You shake your head with a slight laugh, then turn it over as Spencer extends a hand. He flips it open and starts to go through it, and you just cross your arms and stare out the windshield. 
“We should really hand this over to Garcia,” he says. “She’ll be able to do a lot more than I can. I don’t really—”
“Like technology, I know,” your dad finished. “We will. Just trying to get all the leads we can upfront.” 
You sigh, but you keep quiet. You guess you can’t really consider it an invasion of privacy when there’s a stalker after you. 
“We typically talk to stalking victims for a while to figure out their lifestyle and possible suspects, as well as the type of stalker we’re dealing with,” Spencer says. “We don’t exactly have the time for that here.” 
“This unsub has already been watching you for a month, maybe more,” your dad says. “He’s made his first move by reaching out to me—that means he wants us to know about him, wants you to know about him.” He glances over at you. “He wants to scare you. You’re not going to give him that satisfaction.” 
“You’re jetting me off to a safehouse before you’ve even gotten the chance to look into any leads,” you say. “It looks like we’re pretty scared, Dad.” 
“It’s preparation,” he says. “The unsub has made his first move—I’m not going to wait around for him to make another and compromise your safety.” 
“This could also be a lot more dangerous than we think,” Spencer says. You still hear him clicking through your messages, and you’re beginning to regret your decision to turn it over to him. “Our unsub could be someone after Gideon using you as collateral.” 
Your heart stops for a split second and your attention snaps to your father. “What?”
“…It is a likely option,” he says. “Very few people know you as my daughter. Someone who wants to hurt me could try to use you to do it.”
“So I was right,” you say. “This is only happening because I’m your daughter.”
“Do you want me to say yes?”
“Yes!” you exclaim. “Yes— I want you to admit that I’ve missed out on all the positives of you being my dad and gotten stuck with all the negatives!”
“This is not the time,” he says. 
“How is it not the time?” you ask with a laugh. “You’ve said it yourself several times— my life is in danger. There’s someone out there that might kill me to get back at you. What is a better time than this to talk about how shitty of a dad you’ve been?”
“A better time would be when we aren’t this high strung,” he says evenly. “Neither of us are thinking as properly as we should be. We don’t want to say anything we’ll regret.”
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll regret any of this,” you say. “After all, I could be dead soon, right? I should get all those regrets out of the way.”
“Please stop arguing,” Spencer interrupts hastily. “This— this is very uncomfortable.”
You scoff. The flames burn just as bright, but for some reason, you decide to hold them back a bit. 
“I’m sure it’s real hard for you, boy genius.”
The silence lingers. You can tell he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. Your dad, to his credit, doesn’t stoke the fire.
It looks like you’re all capable of restraint today. 
“I— I went through all her messages,” Spencer continues. It irks you that he talks like you’re not here. “There’s nothing suspicious there, at least.”
“Good,” your dad says. “I’ll hand it over to Garcia after I drop you both off.”
“We’re not gonna have a car?” you ask.
“You’ll have this one,” he says. “That’s why Agent Greenaway is following us.”
“Elle’s coming?” Spencer asks, and you see him perk up. You belatedly wonder what that deal is. 
“Just so she can drive me back to the office,” your dad says. “She offered.”
“What’s everyone else doing?” 
“Garcia is digging through some of your personal records for the team,” he says, glancing at you. “JJ is in contact with the local police stations so they’re ready once we have a profile. Morgan and Hotch should be looking through every case I’ve closed to get a running list of suspects.”
“Great,” you say as you lean back in your seat. “Nothing like getting my whole life aired out and put under a microscope.”
“It already is,” Spencer says. “You’ve got a stalker.”
“Thanks, Spencer,” you mutter. “I forgot.” 
-
The rest of the drive goes by with ease—at least, relative to how difficult you’ve made everything else. 
You’re already sick of Spencer Reid by the time you get out of the car. You don’t know how you’re going to survive such close quarters under these kinds of circumstances. 
Another car parks next to you as the three of you get out, and your eyes are drawn to the woman that steps out. 
“Easy drive?” your dad asks. 
“I was right behind you,” Agent Greenaway says. “You drive like an old man.” 
Your dad just barely smiles. “Stay with her, Elle. Reid and I are going to check the perimeter.” 
“You can’t be serious,” you cut in. 
“I already told you I’m not taking chances with this,” he says, and he takes his gun out. “This won’t take long.” 
Spencer takes his out as well—he carries it with both hands, like it’s actually weighing him down, and it’s a bit ridiculous—and they split to cover both sides of the house and the surrounding area. You sigh and shake your head as you cross your arms. 
“He’s certainly spirited,” Agent Greenaway says. 
You huff a laugh. “That’s one way to put it.” 
“I’m Elle, by the way,” she says. “I know we haven’t been formally introduced.” 
You nod your acknowledgment and say your name. “Nice to meet you.” 
She turns to fully face you. “Do you mind if I say a few things?” 
“If it’s about my dad—”
“It’s not,” she interrupts with a wry smile, “I promise.” 
You shrug. “Then sure.” 
“First, I just want to ask if you’re doing alright,” she says. “You’ve gotten a lot dropped on you all at once.”
“I’m as good as I can be,” you say. 
Elle nods, and her eyes soften. “I’m not gonna tell you to take it easy on Gideon. He’s an incredible agent, but that makes it hard to be a good dad.”
You don’t say anything, and she continues. 
“My dad was on the force too. I resented him for a lot of my childhood because he was gone so often, but… then he was killed in the line of duty.”
You frown. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Elle nods in thanks. “I’m not trying to get sympathy. I’m just saying I know what it’s like.”
You shift your balance and sigh, glancing away momentarily. “Everyone here sees him as a hero, and— and he is. He started this whole thing and you all save lives every day, but it feels like he’s missed my entire life because of it.” You huff a bitter laugh. “I think you all know him better than I do.”
“I think you’re probably right,” she admits. “You deserve to be angry. And honestly, I think you deserve to hate him some for it.” 
You huff a slight laugh. “You’re the one person who hasn’t tried to make me feel bad for it.”
She shrugs. “You’re in an awful situation and it might be because of him. You don’t have to have endless grace.”
“Any chance I can get you to stay in here with me instead of Spencer?” you ask.
She smiles. “I don’t think Gideon wants to stick the two of us in a house together. But I am gonna make sure we catch this guy.”
“These kinds of assholes go after vulnerable women because it gives them the attention they crave,” she continues. “They worm themselves into their lives and disrupt it all and it makes them feel powerful—you have to play to their whims.”
“Sounds like you have a lot of experience with this,” you murmur.
“I have a lot of experience putting away sick men,” Elle says. 
“Do you have any advice, then?” you ask weakly. 
“I’ve only been around you for a few hours, but I already know you’re better and stronger than whatever bastard is after you,” she says. “He wants to control your life. Don’t let him.” 
“Thank you,” you say quietly. “I’m… really glad you’re on my side.”
She smiles again. “Just doing my job.”
Your eyes latch onto your dad as he and Spencer come back around the front, and they both tuck their guns back into their holsters. 
“It’s all clear,” your dad says. 
“And I’m not dead,” you say. “Looks like we’re all doing good.”
He chooses to ignore you, instead looking at Elle. “Did you go over anything with her?” he asks.
She shakes her head. “Just gave some advice.”
“Great,” Spencer says. “Just what I need.”
“Oh, get over yourself, Reid,” Elle says. “You’ll be fine.” 
You don’t miss the look he gives her, and your dad clears his throat. “Can you take her inside and check everything? Reid and I need to talk.” 
He frowns. “We do?” 
“Sure,” she nods. 
You stare at your dad this time, and he doesn’t entertain your annoyance with some of his own. “We’ll be in soon.” 
“Sure,” you repeat. 
You follow Elle in—you don’t feel like getting a lecture on safety just yet—and when you pass a glance over your shoulder, you meet Spencer’s eyes. He was watching you. 
His eyes dart away just as quickly, and you huff the slightest laugh. You don’t know if he’s scared of you or just tired of you already, but whichever one, you don’t really care. If you have to be stuck in this house with him, he has to be stuck in there with you too.
Elle shows you around the place, and it’s nothing special—a one story house with two bedrooms and a noticeable lack of windows, furnished plainly with a couch and a few chairs, a small kitchen table, a television. You’re honestly surprised at how nice it all is. 
But as she takes you on the impromptu tour, you can’t stop thinking about her words. You can’t stop thinking about all of it, honestly. 
A month ago, you were driving home in silence after your dad forgot about the plans you made. A week ago, you were out for drinks with friends. 
Today, you’re hunkering down in a safe house because there’s a stalker after you, and you have to do it with your dad’s stand-in kid. 
That’s what gets you, you think. That you know more about Spencer Reid than anyone at his job knows about you—that your dad ignores you in favor of his work, and instead of trying to fit you into his life, he finds an FBI replacement.
Your jaw clenches. It takes a few seconds for you to realize you’ve completely tuned out Elle, only really coming out of it when she says your name.
“Sorry,” you say. “I was distracted.” 
“I don’t blame you,” she says wryly. 
You’re about to respond when Spencer walks in with your dad. His face is slightly flushed and, as opposed to all the other times, he won’t make eye contact with you. You can only imagine what your dad decided to talk to him about. 
“You showed her around?” your dad asks. 
Elle nods. “The basics. She and Reid can figure out the rest.” 
“Thank you,” he says. He looks at Spencer, who has his hands stuffed in his pockets and is very intently focused on the wall behind you. “Help Elle get the rest of the things out of her car.”
He frowns. “Elle doesn’t need my help.”
“Come on, Reid,” she says as she starts to walk. 
He blinks and nods. “Oh. Uh— yeah.” 
You feel his eyes on you as he goes, but you don’t meet them. You just stare at your father.
“Is it my turn for a lecture?”
His eyes soften as he says your name. “This isn’t how I want things to be between us.”
“Yeah, well,” you shrug, “it takes a decade or two of neglect to get here.”
“You’re right,” he says. “You wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for me. But I’m going to get you out of it.”
“I hope so,” you say. “Because I don’t really know how Doctor Reid is going to help.”
“Don’t take it out on Reid,” your dad says. “Hate me all you want, but leave him out of it.”
“You’re the one that pulled him into it,” you retort. “He’s more your kid than I am.”
“And I regret it,” he says. Your eyes widen a bit, and it actually gets you to shut up. “I regret that it took something like this for me to be a part of your life again. But I don’t want our last interaction before you’re sequestered for the indefinite future to be a fight.”
“That’s all I’m good at when it comes to you,” you mumble. The wind has been taken out of your sails considerably. 
“And I want to change that,” he says. “But first, we have to get through this. And we’re going to get through it together, sweetheart.” 
The term of affection feels strange coming from him. Ever since your teenage years, he’s felt less like your dad and more like some estranged cousin. You hate it. You hate how unfamiliar everything feels with him. Jason Gideon has been a profiler longer than he’s been a dad and it shows in your every interaction with him. 
But still, your heart aches. You bite the inside of your cheek.
“You promise?” you ask. You feel like a kid again. 
“I promise,” he says. 
Then your dad pulls you into a hug, and for a moment, you freeze. You can’t remember the last time he hugged you. 
Despite the anger inside of you, the bitterness built in your bones, you can’t help it—you hug him back. You practically melt into his arms as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to stop the sudden threat of tears. 
Because deep down beneath it all, you’re scared. You’re fucking terrified, actually, and right now you’re just a girl who wants comfort from her dad. 
“I love you,” he says. 
“…I love you too,” you mumble.
Neither of you pull away for a good thirty seconds. When you do, you turn around to wipe your eyes, not wanting him to see. You hear the door open and start, but it’s just Spencer and Elle with some bags and boxes. 
“Elle’s got some groceries,” your dad says, clearing his throat. “We’ll deliver more if necessary, but you’ve got the basics for a couple weeks, at least.” 
“And a whole lot of books and movies,” Spencer says, hefting the box in his hands. “Did you know that there have been approximately 122 million unique titles published since the invention of Gutenberg’s printing press in 1440?” 
“That’s less specific than usual,” Elle says. “You sure you’re feeling okay?” 
He frowns. “I couldn’t find statistics on the exact number.” 
“Why were you even looking at those statistics?” 
“I get bored sometimes.” 
Elle just laughs as they continue into the living room. You feel your dad’s eyes on you, and you sigh. 
“I’ll take it easy on him,” you say. “Mostly. Maybe.” 
And he actually smiles. “Thank you.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” you say offhandedly, but you find the slightest smile creeping on your lips as well. You kind of hate it. 
Everything else goes by relatively quickly now that you’re not arguing every single thing—you have to fight your instincts not to, but you manage—and eventually, after another lingering hug and some promises to be safe (and one from Spencer to your dad to keep you safe)—you’re alone in the house with him. 
“So,” you say as you settle on the couch, “this is what the indefinite future is going to be like.” 
“If it makes you feel better, last time we dealt with a stalker we caught them in a few days,” Spencer says. “She watched her for a good while, though.” 
“It doesn’t make me feel better,” you say. “Thanks.” 
“...Sorry.” 
You shrug your indifference and Spencer walks past you, focusing in on some of the paintings hanging on the wall. You’re sure he knows the artist, title, and meaning behind every single one, so you speak up before he can start.  
“What did you and Elle talk about?” 
“How this place doesn’t have a pool,” he says.  
You frown. “What?” 
“Nothing,” he says quickly. “What’d you and Gideon talk about?”
“We fought then made up,” you say. “It was… weird.” 
Spencer looks at you. “How?” 
You shrug again as you cross your arms. “You’ve seen how we are. We don’t exactly get along.” 
“Has he really been that bad of a dad?”
“It’s none of your business,” you say. “But… yes. He’s barely been a dad at all.” 
Spencer shakes his head. “I don’t get that. He’s so different in the field.” 
“That’s why he’s barely been a dad—because he’s so busy here.” You tilt your head. “Don’t you have some facts or whatever on the percentage of fathers that are workaholics?” 
“Well, 89% of dads work full time,” Spencer says. “And fathers typically work around 47 hours a week. But I don’t have anything on workaholics specifically.” 
“Great.” You stand up and walk over to the box of DVDs Spencer set down on the table, and you start rifling through them. “So, what’d my dad tell you about me?” 
Spencer blinks. “What do you mean?” 
“When I came in here with Elle and he kept you out there,” you say. “Did he give you the run-down? Warn you on how difficult I am to be around? Tell you that I hate you?” 
His Adam’s apple bobs. “Uh— no. He just… talked to me. Gave the rundown on everything.”
You hum. “You can tell the truth.” 
“I— I am,” he says. He’s clearly not. “He didn’t say anything bad about you. Promise.” 
“Whatever you say.” You land on a DVD and glance over at him. “How do you feel about Groundhog Day?” 
He shakes his head. “I don’t like Bill Murray.” 
You frown. “That’s ridiculous. How can you not like Ghostbusters?” 
“I love Ghostbusters.” 
“How can you like Ghostbusters but not Bill Murray?” 
“Because I like the concept more than I like him,” he says. “I love Halloween.” 
You shake your head and move on. “Who put these together?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Gideon? Or maybe some random BAU office worker.” 
“It’s an interesting compilation.” You look up at him again. “How about Dirty Dancing?” 
“No.” 
“No reasoning?”
“I don’t feel like dealing with a musical right now,” he says. 
“So you choose to deprive me of Patrick Swayze,” you tut. You grab one movie out of the back and hold it up. “If I put on Goodfellas, will you interrupt every five seconds with facts?”
“...I can push it back to every thirty seconds,” he says. 
“Five minutes,” you say. 
“One minute.” 
“Two.” 
“One forty-five?” 
“Two—take it or leave it.” 
“Technically I have all the power here,” Spencer says. “I can talk nonstop about anything. Putting down a movie narrows that down.” 
“...One fifty.” 
He nods, and you huff a disbelieving laugh as you put the DVD in the player. 
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re ridiculous?” 
“A lot,” he says as he sits down on the couch. “I usually get insufferable or weird or annoying, though. So ridiculous isn’t too bad.” 
“Well, you’re certainly something.” 
“That’s also not too bad,” he says. “I could even take it as a compliment.”
You sigh and pick up the remote before you sit back down. You look up at the clock on the wall and bite back a curse. 
“It’s only been ten minutes,” you mutter. 
“Ten minutes and thirty-four seconds, actually,” Spencer says. “Did you know that Scorsese actually cast real mobsters as extras? The cast members were told ahead of time so they could show the necessary respect to them while they were on set. There’s a whole mafia hierarchy, and only full-blooded Italians—”
“I haven’t even gotten to the start screen,” you interrupt in disbelief. 
Spencer shrugs. “You said every minute and fifty seconds. Not how long I could go on for.” 
You let out another sigh as he continues on. You bet Spencer could probably recite the whole movie from memory if you asked, but you honestly don’t know if you could take that. 
There’s one plus, at least. When you’ve got a human encyclopedia next to you that can spout off whatever information he wants any time he wants, you think you’re gonna have a hard time thinking too much about your stalker. 
You look over at Spencer when you finally make it to the opening scene, still talking but now about the different crime families in the United States. His eyebrows are surprisingly animated when he talks, going up and down depending on his inflection, and you find yourself thinking that it’s charming. 
It’s annoying how pretty he is, and it’s annoying how annoying he is. 
You look away. 
This is going to be a very long lockdown.
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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months ago
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Felix Catton x reader where he invites reader to Saltburn and he confesses his love to her. Super fluffy 🫶🏻😩
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This was long as shit! But I hope you like it! 🦦
You honestly thought Felix was taking the piss upon extending you an invitation to spend the summer at Saltburn. You even waited for Farleigh to come out of nowhere to make his usual passive aggressive commentary in regard to your seemingly gullible nature, but nothing.
No Farleigh.
None of Felix’s little posse of posh cunts were nearby to poorly conceal their laugher behind their hands.
It was just you and Felix sat upon a stone bench somewhere, to which you must’ve looking like an right idiot, with your mouth opening and closing like an goldfish in disbelief at what you were hearing. ‘So what do you say?’ Felix asked after a prolonged period of awkward silence, looking as though a little on the verge of imploding at any given moment.
You blinked once, twice, then a third time for good measure before clearing your throat. ‘Yeah, sure…I’d love to but why me-‘ your sentence was cut off when Felix let out a relieved sigh as his mouth stretched into a smile, revealing his pearly whites, also as though he was…happy that you had accepted his invite; A reaction that naturally caused you to become curious as to figure out the reason why.
‘Oh thank fuck, you almost had me second guessing that you weren’t going to come.’ He said, looking at you with eyes that seemed to be reading your entire being, reading your each and every breath with such attention; so much that you swore it was as akin to that of a creator admiring his first creation. You -much like everyone else at Oxford- were very familiar with the stories that came with the supposed friends Felix had taken to Saltburn; they go to Saltburn, things seemingly get weird and the friendship is tarnished, then by summer’s end Felix next speaks with them again.
Used and discarded within the same breath.
You soon came to the conclusion that you didn’t want to be the next discarded toy on Felix’s long list of broken things. It would’ve been better had Felix kept his distance and stayed with his little posse, but he didn’t and now you were riddled with the endless possibilities that laid ahead of you. ‘Would’ve been a real shame if I did.’ You said, hyper aware of the fact that Felix was still staring intently at you. ‘But I’m glad you didn’t.’ He says softly, taking one last puff of his cigarette before its dying embers dwindled down to the bud, tossing it aside carelessly once it’s use has been served.
‘So am I.’ You replied, looking away from him and elsewhere as you pondered to yourself what you had gotten yourself into and what terrors would await for you at Saltburn.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your first couple of days at Saltburn were okay to say the least.
Well that was mostly because Felix insisted that you’d spend the most of it together. So no matter where it was that you went through the manor, Felix was never far behind, looking over you like a protective shadow.
The pool? a shirtless Felix was sat poolside with a cigarette handing loosely from his lips, reflective shades concealing his dark eyes that you could feel shamelessly drinking you in as you dipped a toe.
The living room? Felix was there with a selection of movies and snacks that he retrieved from the kitchen along with comfy blankets.
The library? Felix was there reading a book that went over the treatment of women in Greek myths.
Bathroom? Felix was also there because upon giving you a grand tour of the intimidating building, he had informed you that you were to share a bathroom, instead of having you journey to the other side of the house to occupy another one.
You even remembered one time where you were deeply engaged in a topic with the likes of Farleigh and Venetia about Felix’s recent attitude towards you, with you being in denial and Farleigh and Venetia trying to make you see reason; When Felix came into the room as though looking for something, and upon seeing the three of you together, his jaw began to clench. It wasn’t until that very moment did you begin to take note of how Felix’s reluctance in having to share you with anyone else, and how it was staring to look something similar to a stubborn child who refused to share what he thought rightfully belonged to him.
‘Told you.’ Farleigh said with a winning smirk after Felix left the room in a huff. ‘He doesn’t want to share you with the rest of us, he only wants you for himself…and in more ways than one.’ He adds on, obviously knowing something that you didn’t.
‘What do you mean by that Farleigh?’ You had tried to ask but all he did was shrug nonchalantly and cryptically said, ‘you’ll see soon enough.’
You guessed you understood where Felix was coming from, I mean you did come here because of him, so naturally you were meant to be spending most of your time with him. However with what Farleigh had said earlier, you couldn’t help but theorise that there was a much deeper reasoning for Felix to have invited you to Saltburn; A theory that would later be put to the test when you were getting ready to go to bed, pulling back the covers just enough for you to slip in with ease, when a knocking at your door caught your ear.
‘Y/n. You in there? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something recently and it couldn’t wait any longer.’ It was Felix. Your brows furrowed at this, what could he possibly want to talk about in the middle of the night?
As to not keep him waiting any longe then he might’ve been before knocking on your door. You quickly made your way to the door -though not before making sure you looked presentable- and opened it to see Felix stood in your doorway in his sleepwear, which consisted of a short sleeve shirt and a pair of blueish gray boxers, as his dark hair looked ruffled as though he had just been vigorously running his hands through it just minutes prior.
Either way he still looked extraordinarily appealing to the eye. However that was just how Felix looked to near enough everyone; extraordinarily delectable.
‘What conversation could possibly be so hard for you to not wait until tomorrow to have?’ You asked, brows raised, wanting nothing more than to put an end to all the mental gymnastics you’ve put yourself through within the past couple days; It got exhaustive after a while and his childish antics of giving you the cold shoulder didn’t make matters any better.
‘Look, I know I’ve been a bit of a dick to you recently.’ Felix began.
‘A bit?’ You echoed, slightly annoyed. ‘Felix you wouldn’t even look at me when I went to the pool, which if I remember correctly,’ you placed a finger on your chin, faking a face of deep thought before clicking your fingers and leaning in towards him, ‘you invited me to earlier that same day.’ You concluded dryly. ‘So how about you explain that before whatever you wanted to talk about, just so I’m given more of a clear picture as to where we stand.’
‘Fuck. I fucked up.’ Felix sighed under his breath as he ran his hand down his face, his dark eyes peering down the elongated hallway in hopes that no one -Farleigh- would come out and see what was all the commotion about, before they returned to look into yours and decided to just skip the words he was planning on telling you and just get straight to the point; long winded speeches of love was never his thing when he could just be straightforward about it. After all he was Felix fucking Catton, but it seemed that just being in your presence was enough to leave him a little speechless.
‘I like you.’ He began but immeditly felt that like wasn’t the right word to use when putting into words of what you did to him. ‘No, that don’t sound right because at the end of the day y/n, I fucking love you.’ Felix corrects himself and you immeditly felt the anything that you wanted to say to him exit your brain, as his sudden declaration took its place as the only thing that you could clearly focus on. ‘I brought you to Saltburn in hopes that one day I would stop being such a pussy and tell you how I truly felt.’ Felix then looked saddened as he continued. ‘Yet it seems that the only thing I’ve managed to accomplish is pushing you away because I thought that you wouldn’t want me like that, and would try to drive that home by spending time with Farleigh and Venetia.’ By the time Felix had finished pouring his heart out to you, everything leading up to this very moment started making a lot more sense, even Farleigh’s cryptic response made sense.
This entire time Felix was planning on confessing and Farleigh knew, which meant Venetia must’ve knew and therefore his parents considering how upon meeting them, they seemingly knew everything about you in incredible detail. You knew Felix was a bit of a blabber mouth under certain circumstances, but you didn’t ever think that he would ever rant to his parents about you in the slightest and in a positive light too. Though it did feel a little odd at first when Elspeth complimented your eyes but now you knew why and you couldn’t help but be flattered; Felix is a handsome and beautiful man that to be viewed within the same perspective was a new feeling entirely.
‘Really?’ You asked, biting the inside of your cheek, praying this wasn’t an extremely realistic dream.
‘Really.’ Felix replied without hesitation, beaming as he brazenly took a step towards you.
‘You’re not fucking with me?’ You asked again, still somehow not finding any of this remotely real, now bitting down on your bottom lip this time.
Felix stepped even closer to you now that you could feel his body heat, his hand gently holding you by the chin as his thumb gingerly pried your bottom lip from your teeth before then moving his head so that it was resting against your own, forcing you to focus on the dark pair of eyes that looked right back at you in a way that one would a masterpiece. ‘I’m not fucking with you.’ He spoke in a low but soft tone of voice. ‘I think you’re the most beautiful and the most amazing person I have ever met. You’re genuine, you’re kind but most importantly, you’re real and I both envy and adore you for that.’ Felix finishes and you couldn’t help but groan with impatience.
‘You could’ve conveyed all that if you would’ve kissed me.’ You whined, hands finding their home within his hair, raking and slightly tugging at the tresses, making him laugh. ‘As you wish.’ He utters cheekily as he then descends his lips upon yours in a passionate kiss that conveyed everything that had been said and more.
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the-modern-typewriter · 7 months ago
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Can i get an immortal villain×mortal hero please please please🥺
I'll give you my croissants 🥐🥐🥐
"How would you like to die?" the villain asked. Their eyes were closed where they sat upon a park bench, head tipped back to the cool breeze and the clear blue sky.
The hero stopped, a little uncertain, but not exactly startled.
"I've tried every kind of death," the villain said. "I can make a recommendation if you prefer."
"I'm not going to die."
The villain's lips twisted - a smile, of sorts. "All mortals die. It is the linchpin of their condition."
"I won't die because of you."
The villain's smile broadened. "Drowning, perhaps. Or maybe suffocation. I don't want to disturb the ducks."
"Why those in particular?"
The villain finally deigned to open their eyes at the question, considering the hero where they stood. The hero couldn't quite read the villain's expression, but their voice remained casual. "Everyone always thinks they can survive those ones. If they just thrash, just fight, hard enough. Then they go very still and very quiet when they realise they can't. You have time to realise what's going to happen to you, see."
"Nice to see you at least put thought into your craft."
"What can I say, I'm a sweetheart. You only get one death."
"But you don't."
"You've done some research. Not enough," the villain added, tipping their head, "seeing as you're still standing there talking to me. But some. Kudos. I guess we'll see if you're brave or stupid."
"I'm not trying to kill you."
"Contain me. Incapacitate me." The villain waved a dismissive hand. "You might save your generation, perhaps, if you get lucky. Are you feeling lucky?"
"I'm not trying to do that either."
"Oh?" The villain sat up a little, finally tuning in properly to the conversation. "Are you not a hero? You dress like one."
"I'm hoping to find a more peaceful, effective solution."
The villain slumped, bored, again. "Mm. This should be good."
"Because I have done my research," the hero said, taking another step closer. "You're immortal. You only kill people when they attack you or are in the way of you wanting something."
"As I said, I'm a sweetheart and a saint."
The hero's jaw tightened. The villain had slaughtered thousands across the decades after all. They were many things, and had lived many lives, but in none of them had they ever been a sweetheart or a saint.
"And what you want most," the hero ploughed on, "other than your comfortable life, is not to be bored. There's no end, after all. So you need distraction. Diversion. Something to make time a little less of of a prison."
The villain was silent for a long moment, watching the hero. "I take it back," they said, finally. "I'm going to drive a knife through your ribs. Nice and slow. You know it's much harder to die from a stab wound than people think? Often it's the blood loss that gets ya."
"And then what?"
The villain shrugged. "Feed the ducks. Go back to my book. Make Christmas lights out of your bones. The possibilities are endless!"
"Sounds lonely."
"You think you're the first to try this, don't you?"
"I think you haven't met me before."
"Maybe I will entertain myself with you," the villain said. "Maybe I'll destroy your life and the live of everyone you talk to from now on. That could be fun. It's been a while since I've been so personal a devil."
Despite themselves, the hero swallowed. Despite their resolve, they considered walking away. Just for a moment.
The villain pushed to their feet, tossing their paperback carelessly aside.
The hero squared their shoulders. They felt their suddenly-fragile feeling heart begin to race. They let the villain stop in front of them, they tried not to let out a desperate shudder as the villain's fingers wrapped around their throat.
"Pick an option," the villain said, caressing their pulse. "Lose air. Lose blood. Or lose everything, but get a few more years before you go. If you ask really nicely, I might even make it quick. "
The hero shifted. They passed through the villain's fingers as if it were nothing, as if the villain were nothing. A ghost. Untouchable.
When the villain turned, the hero sat on the bench the villain had vacated. They made a show of picking up the villain's book, willing their once-more solid fingers not to tremble.
The villain raised an eyebrow. "Phasing. Cute."
"I don't age when I'm in ghost mode. Any injuries I have heal. If someone kills me, I stay dead, presumably. I'm mortal, as you say, but..."
"Hard to kill."
"Hardest you'll find. Or does the challenge scare you?"
"Determined little martyr, aren't you?"
"Not like you have anything to lose experimenting. You have all the time in the world."
"You realise I don't have to honour any deal now that you've revealed your hand? I could just hunt you and continue hurting other people, especially now I know how much it bothers me."
"I'll disappear."
"I have all the time in the world. I'd find you eventually."
"I guess then I'd just vanish again, if you don't want to play ball."
"You really are just the cutest, aren't you?"
"Is that a yes?"
"Maybe." The villain held out a hand for their book. "I haven't decided. Buy me lunch. See if you can keep my interest for more than five minutes."
"Lunch."
"There's a new cafe I haven't tried. Apparently they make their own croissants."
"You want to go to lunch with me?"
"No, I want to go to lunch. All this talk of bloodshed is giving me the munchies! But I'm assuming you're currently planning to haunt me, so you may as well pay. Unless you want me to just...kill anyone who tries to charge me."
"No! No."
"That's what I thought. Great minds."
The hero pushed to their feet, as the villain had, tentatively offering them their book back. They weren't entirely sure if that encounter had gone well or not.
The villain smiled, full of teeth, eyes gleaming.
"For your sake, little hero, do try not to be boring."
And, so, they went for lunch.
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saerins · 8 months ago
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the people are gonna start asking for a bonus chapter of sae getting off to yn 😭 (i will eat that shit up)
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extra chapter: guilty pleasure
꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — part of priceless. for the first time, sae’s clueless on how to get rid of his frustrations of not having you. guess he’ll just have to jerk off to the thought of you.
content: smut. masturbation. sae jerks off to his thoughts of you; mentions of penetration, blowjobs. word count: 1.3k
༝༚༝༚ here you are !!! just a short piece though sobs i was in a whole mood so have this sneak peek into down bad sae :’) <3
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are you trying to kill him?
sae thinks you must be, because seeing you wearing nothing but his jersey, walking out of the bathroom with your hair wet, towel slung lazily over your shoulder; it makes his eyes wander. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t fight his exhaustion to stay up just because he’s curious what you’d look like in his jersey.
now that he knows? he doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep well at all.
you’re having a conversation with him, even though the majority of his mind is elsewhere. maybe it’s just the consequence of letting all of this tension build up. you were tempting enough the night you all got together to drink. he held himself back back then, but now, with your lips so close to his, can he really avoid it this time?
he’s not sure what smart thing came out of your mouth this time. all he knows is that you’re so close now, just inches away from his face, and you smell so nice and all he can think of is what it’d be like if he lets you consume him.
“is that what you want?” he hopes he’s saying the right thing. he hopes you’re not going to run away like you always do.
to his surprise, you answer him directly this time, much like in otoya’s room, when you were half intoxicated and more honest than you’ve ever been with him. this time you’re purposely telling him, “i already told you what i want.”
you did. sae already rejected it once—because you were tipsy and almost out of it and he didn’t want you to forget about it the very next day—and now he can’t hold himself back anymore.
sae throws all his usual reservations out the window, leaning forward to kiss you, ashamed of the thoughts running through his head right now. he’s not so ashamed after he feels the way you kiss him back, how it feels so urgent like you’d really been yearning to kiss him and weren’t just all talk.
it’s not like he’s thought of this situation before this. he didn’t plan to kiss you right now, but seeing you wear his things like you belong to him makes him feel a certain way.
before he knows it, his hands are moving down from your hips to the back of your thighs, carrying you onto the countertop, his body comfortably nestled between your thighs, his lips savouring every single taste of you.
the little sounds you make as he takes your breath away—he’s never known they existed before and now within a mere few seconds it feels like they’re his favourite sounds in the entire universe. and by the time he feels satisfied enough to pull back from you, it feels like you have him in a trance, have him hooked around your little finger and every fibre of your being, enough so that he’s telling you he’s been wanting to kiss you too before he even realises it.
but you pull away too soon, like always, and leave him with that flirty remark, making his thoughts go crazy. it almost feels like he’s opened pandora’s box; before tonight, he had no trouble shrugging the thoughts of you away.
not anymore. not after spending more time with you and craving even more of you.
that’s why he ends up sitting up on his bed, head resting against the headboard, his fingers wrapped around his dick as he thinks of how fucking good you must sound if only you’d let him do more. you were already whimpering so seductively from the kiss—and fuck now sae wonders what your moans sound like.
he pumps his dick faster, mind wandering through endless images of what you can possibly look like underneath all that fabric. he spreads his precum around the head with his thumb, imagining your tongue in its place, imagining you on your knees, taking him in your mouth. warm, wet, perfect.
“fuck, y/n,” he can’t help but murmur under his breath, eyes shut as his hips jerk up into his hand, twitching from thinking how good your throat would feel around his cock.
you’d probably kill him if you knew of all the things he’s imagining he’d do to you.
his grip around his cock tightens as he starts to think of what you’d look like on top of him, naked with your breasts bouncing as he fucks up into you—you’d probably sound so sinful moaning his name.
fuck, he wants to hear you moan his name. is that too tall an order when he only just got you to call him by his name tonight?
sae bites on his lower lip, mouth falling open as he thinks of how hot you’d look riding him, of how your whimpers would sound impossibly saccharine as he takes your breast in his mouth, licking and nibbing on your nipple.
“shit,” he curses under his breath, grip getting tighter, moving his hand in tandem to the rhythm of you in his imagination as you bounce on top of him.
he really shouldn’t be thinking of you like this, not when he invited you over with no intentions and now he’s about to cum just thinking of you. you’re filling his mind; it flickers from thoughts of what it would feel like to have your tongue around his cock—licking the vein that runs up his length, what your cute face would look like as you suck him off—to how warm your pussy would feel around him, how it would throb as he thrusts into you, what you’d scream when you’re close. sae’s thoughts deviate to you, your face, your voice, your pussy—he bets it looks perfect, bet it’d look so much better if he makes it wet.
would you let him?
“fuck, y/n, fuck fuck fuck,” he mutters, voice thick with arousal, making sure to keep it down in case you hear him, even if all he can think about is what sweet sounds your pussy would make if he fucks you silly.
you’re in his head, your whimpers getting louder and your pussy all wet and clenching around him and he can’t fucking take it anymore, his hip thrusting up one last time before he’s cumming, white painting his stomach instead of your insides, the substance spreading and lining the dips from his abs.
sae’s heart is pounding in his chest and he’s sure it’s partly because of his fantasies but he’s screwed anyway, already in deeper than he initially thought. especially when he starts to think of what it’d feel like to just properly fall asleep next to you, both of you in the same bed instead of him being relegated to the floor. it makes him feel envious of otoya for a split second, because he’s sure he knows what that feels like.
he stares at himself in the mirror of his bathroom later after washing up, cold water splashed onto his face because he needs to think clearly. but everything he’s considering in his head only points in one direction: he wants you, in every single way.
sae sighs, head tilted up as he thinks of all the ways you could possibly reject him—maybe now he sees why all those girls reacted that way when he did the same to them. he’s pretty sure they weren’t serious about him though, because they barely knew him or spoke to him. but he’s let you in so much more than usual, and so much faster than he did bianca.
you’re special. 
you’re special, and he wants to try.
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yuukirita · 26 days ago
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So about Killing B-127
Imma be honest- actually no one told me NOT to do this.
https://www.tumblr.com/yuukirita/764457936468754432/two-bumblebees?source=share (the og post were I talked about this)
So imma do it- HOWEVER. It won't be in the main DeceptiBee au. I might not even write it. But I will DRAW IT. Probably.
You can keep reading the DeceptiBee au and be assured that Bee won't die- but when that fic is done I might do an alternate ending with it where Bee does die- like a series.
But i'll write it in a way You don't need to read the previous fic to understand what's happening. That first chapter is gonna recap and compress the story and it won't reff the previous fic other than 'Bee was a decepticon who died'
I guess that Au would be called 'SecondBee au' or 'TwoBees au' since theres another one. idk i'm bad at names.
So about this Au, it's in the tfone continuity. Where Bee choose to follow megatron when he got banished. He died. War raged on and then another Bee is forged right before Primus peaces out. And then a lot of bad things happen to him C:
I don't remember which continuity Tfone is attached to (it can't be the bayverse don't lie to yourself) but Imma say that the endgame to this is Earthspark (because it's the happiest ending we're getting so far) so I might even write to that part because since new bee and megatron are on the same side now I smell some good sad times.
What do we think? does any of this make sense to yous?
Does this make you exited? Dreadful? Tired?
If you stumble upon this and you want to make your own- feel free (and give me the fragging link so I can read it) Bee doesn't even need to be a decepticon before he dies. Endless possibilities.
P.S. no telling when I'll be making content for that Au cuz I'm working on deceptibee rn- Next chapter is out tomorrow. hug hug
P.P.S. Just a small- SMALL look at what this au could be
Megatron could not believe his optics. In front of him, on the screen, stood a scout, painted yellow, with horns, an autobot logo were a deceipticon brand should be. The same, the same, optics he'd seen fade in front of his very own. He'd been caught on camera and Shockwave had given him the footage.
"He. Replaced. Him." His servos balled into fists "Another usurper." When would Primus cease taking his fallen friends and produce failed facsimiles to torture him with? After all this time...
It only justified his actions further. He would not be deceived.
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ro-is-struggling · 2 years ago
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Slow Hands || Spencer Reid x Reader
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Summary: Spencer gets tired of pretending he doesn't notice the way you look at his hands, so when you show up at his hotel room late at night he decides to ask you about it.
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn without plot, hand kink, size kink kinda?, praise kink, Dom/sub dynamics (gentle dom Spencer x sub reader), dirty talk, pet names (good girl, baby, dirty little girl, slut), fingering, overstimulation, penetrative sex, choking, slight dacryphilia, a little fluff at the end, female reader, kinda rushed ending
English is not my first language
Word count: 6800
Notes: Spencer is a gentle dom and you can’t change my mind.
Also pictures aren't mine, I just put them together. I took them from this post (the one that inspired this fic) and also from this one so full credits to them!
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"Why do you always stare at my hands?" The question escaped Spencer's lips before he could stop it. You had come to his hotel room to discuss something about the case you were working on and the whole time you had been staring at his hands. 
It wasn't the first time you had done that, he had caught you staring at his hands in the past. It seemed that whatever he did with them you found interesting. He had never said anything to you because he honestly didn't know how to approach the subject without it sounding strange, but he was aware of what you were doing. The same way he knew you didn't admire anyone else's hands the same way you admired his, something that sparked a warmth inside him.
Spencer was pretty sure he knew why you looked at his hands so much, but he wanted to hear you say it.
"Oh," you mumbled in embarrassment, startled at being caught. "I don't know, I think they're pretty." You shrugged, looking everywhere but at Spencer. "I like hands."
"You like hands?" He repeated, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.
"I know it sounds weird but it's not! Some people notice someone's smile first or maybe their eyes or laugh, I tend to notice people's hands." It was a half-truth. Yes, you used to pay more attention to people's hands than most, but that wasn't the real reason for your inability to take your eyes off his hands. But since you couldn't admit that you dreamed every night of feeling the touch of his long, slender fingers on your skin, you thought that explanation would satisfy his curiosity and save you from the humiliation of the truth.
"Why do you like my hands so much?" Spencer insisted and you struggled to stop your mind before it got lost in the endless fantasies involving his hands that haunted you at night when you were alone in your bed.
"I don't know. They're pretty, I guess." You tried to downplay it, hoping that would be enough to ease his curiosity.
"Pretty how?" Spencer asked you and when you looked up to meet his eyes you saw a dark glint in them. He was up to something, you could see it in the innocent little smile plastered on his lips. He was pushing you to give him an answer for a special reason that you didn't know, but you assumed it couldn't be anything good for you.
Your brain was screaming at you not to take the bait, that it was dangerous and stupid. The smartest thing to do would be to find an excuse to go back to your room, where you would be safe from Spencer and his tricks. But you had never been that smart. Curiosity got the better of you, so you ignored your brain and took the bait.
"Well, for starters, your hands are big." You spoke in the most casual tone possible, trying to hide your embarrassment and excitement as you took one of his hands between yours to compare sizes.
You rarely had the opportunity to hold Spencer's hand, so feeling the warmth of his palm against yours awakened a wave of electricity that coursed down your spine. You swallowed hard, struggling to control yourself as you admired the difference in size between your hands. Even though you had long nails you weren't able to shorten the difference in length between his fingers and yours, Spencer's still stood tall against yours, which barely touched the middle phalanx of his fingers. You thought it was impossible, but his hand seemed even larger when compared to yours. 
"And that's a good thing?" His soft, low voice shook you awake from your trance, lifting your gaze to look at him for a moment before returning your focus to his hands.
"Yes, especially for a guy," you said, trying to act natural under his intense gaze. "But you also have beautiful fingers. They're long and slender... perfectly balanced with the size of your palm." Your fingers traced his as you spoke, delicately caressing the skin of his hand with your fingertips. You could feel his eyes on you, following your every move. If you kept quiet you could hear his deep breathing quicken a little more with each caress you gave him, just like your heartbeat. 
Spencer knew what kind of ideas the size of his fingers sparked in your imagination and he would be lying if he said he didn't have the same fantasies from time to time. It was actually embarrassing how many times he had masturbated imagining having his fingers buried deep in the warmth of your core —you moaning his name and begging him for more while he used his expert fingers to make you feel pleasure in a way no other man had ever done. 
"But I also like the veins in the back of your hand." Your voice brought him out of his thoughts just in time, a few more seconds lost in his fantasies and his pants were going to start feeling a little tight. "I like the way the veins mark on your skin." Your fingers traced the lines on the back of his hand, following the paths that led up his arm, where the rolled up sleeve of his shirt prevented you from continuing.
Your fingers lingered on his arm longer than necessary, taking the opportunity to memorize the texture of his skin, the warmth of his body and the way his closeness made you feel in case you never had the chance to touch him like that again. The room fell into complete silence as you shared an intimate moment, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of your slightly accelerated breathing. There was a tension in the air that you had never felt before being with Spencer, but you barely paid attention to it as you lost yourself in your fantasies, your mind finally surrendering to your wild imagination. 
But then the sound of a speeding car coming through the window distracted you from your thoughts. You pulled your hands away from Spencer quickly as you realized what you had done, ashamed of yourself for losing control like that. However, when you looked up to meet his eyes you didn't notice anything strange about them. He didn't seem to be bothered or uncomfortable by your behavior. No. You just saw that sparkle again, shining in his hazel eyes with increasing clarity. 
Spencer's gaze didn't leave you as he moved his hand closer to you. You remained frozen in place, holding your breath without even realizing it as you waited to see what he was scheming. His fingers took a lock of your hair that fell over your face, playing with it for a bit before he gently tucked it behind your ear. Your heart was beating faster and faster and your brain was working hard to decipher what Spencer was thinking. You enjoyed the attention you were getting from him, but your impatient nature needed to know where he was going with all this.
However, your brain was fried the moment Spencer's hand cupped your cheek. You even forgot how to breathe as you felt his long, slender fingers caress the skin of your face. You closed your eyes instinctively, leaning into his touch as you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment. The warmth of his hand awakened a tingling sensation that spread all over your face following the path of his fingers, from your cheek bone, down to your jaw, across your chin and up to your lips. It was ridiculous how he could have you melting under his touch with the simplest of caresses. He had so much power over you... and you liked it. 
You opened your eyes when you felt Spencer's thumb caress your lower lip. Your eyes met for a moment, feeling small under his intense gaze. He had never acted that way with you before, much less looked at you with the hunger reflected in his hazel orbs. And you liked it. You liked feeling small under his watchful eye. You liked feeling completely at his mercy. You liked knowing that he owned you even if he didn't realize it.
"I feel the same way about your lips," Spencer announced, staring at your mouth as his thumb continued his caresses, tracing the shape of your lips. "I love how soft they look, always tempting me to kiss them... especially when you stick your tongue out to wet them... or when you bite your lower lip when you're deep in thought. It takes all my willpower not to cross the room and kiss you right then and there." 
Spencer's voice was soft and seductive, the slightly deeper than normal tone going straight to your core, which tightened around nothing, desperate for attention. There was nothing dirty in his words —he was just declaring how much he wanted to kiss you— and yet you could feel the wetness beginning to stain your underwear. There was something about his voice, the way he was talking to you and the softness of his touch on your lips that felt highly erotic. Spencer seemed to know exactly what to say and what to do to have you at his mercy. He had you in a trance, frozen in place as you eagerly awaited his next move. There wasn't a single thought in your head, just him and your desire to feel his hands all over your body.
"And don't even get me started on those lipsticks you wear," he continued, applying a little more pressure on your lips as he dragged his thumb across them, smearing lipstick on the corners of your lips. "This one is my favorite."
You parted your lips to try to breathe. You were starting to feel lightheaded, unable to move or speak under Spencer's intense stare. You wanted to, god knew there were a lot of things you wanted to say to him at that moment, but you couldn't do it. Your brain was fried, your body vibrating with anticipation. Part of you still couldn't believe what was happening, so you thought it would be best to keep your mouth shut. You would let him guide you, show you what he wanted from you. You'd be lying if you said that wasn't exactly what you wanted.
Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt Spencer's thumb push into your mouth. You closed your lips around the digit without even thinking about it, your tongue caressing his skin in an act of pure instinct. Your mind didn't process what was happening until you heard him moan softly.
"Good girl," he praised you and you couldn't help but moan over his finger, pure pleasure vibrating throughout your body. "I always suspected that behind that strong, combative attitude of yours was hiding a good, obedient girl... I didn't even have to tell you to suck, you already knew what to do."
A wave of pleasure ran through your body at his words, feeling proud to hear him call you a good girl. That's all you ever wanted to be, his good girl, and now that you finally had the chance to prove it to him you weren't going to waste it. You sucked on his finger harder to show him how much you loved his compliments, hollowing out your cheeks as your tongue played with his digit wishing it was his cock instead.
"I’ve wanted this for so long, you have no idea," Spencer sighed. 
Oh but you did know. You knew exactly what he meant because you had wanted him for so long too. Every second you spent with him was torture, not only because you fantasized about feeling his hands on your body all the time, but also because you had to pretend you didn't in a room filled with skilled profilers. 
But there was no more of that. You didn't have to worry anymore because his hands were finally on your body and it felt even better than you had imagined.
"Will you be my good girl tonight?" Spencer asked you, his voice barely a whisper as he moved closer to you. 
You almost fainted when you felt his warm breath crash against your face, feeling even smaller under his gaze now that he was closer to you. When he removed his thumb from your mouth you had to bite your tongue to keep from letting out a whimper in protest. 
"Answer me!" he demanded in a firm but soft tone that managed to snap your brain out of its trance. 
"Yes," you rushed to say, maintaining eye contact with Spencer at all times. "I want to be your good girl, please."
You barely managed to get the words out before Spencer's lips crashed against yours in a kiss full of passion and desperation. You didn't even try to fight for dominance, surrendering to him without him having to ask. You let his lips guide yours, melting under the caresses of his tongue. His hands gripped each side of your face, using his hold to tilt your head so he could deepen the kiss. 
It was all happening so fast you barely had time to process it, your poor brain working hard to keep up with the torturous rhythm of Spencer's lips. The kiss was much rougher than you would have imagined from someone like him. He always looked so sweet and innocent it was hard to believe he had such a dark side. But you loved every second of it. You loved knowing that he had chosen to share that side with you. 
"Stand up," he ordered you as he pulled away from your lips. His kiss had left you a little stupid, so it took you a few seconds to process his words. But he didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, Spencer seemed proud of himself. He loved the effect he had on you as much as you did.
Spencer stood next to you, standing in front of you. You looked up into his eyes, patiently awaiting his next command. You lost yourself in the beautiful hazel color of his orbs for a moment, noticing a flash of his usual sweet, tender glow mixed in with all the desire and lust. That soothed the nerves that were beginning to form in your stomach from the anticipation, remembering that behind the darkness in his eyes was your Spencer, the one who always opened doors for you and brought you coffee without you asking him for it when you were stuck in the office late at night doing paperwork.
He took his time removing your clothes, his hands caressing and kissing every inch of skin he uncovered, showering you with compliments. He even knelt down in front of you to properly remove your shoes, pants and panties, taking the time to caress your calves and deposit a kiss on each of your thighs before rising back up. Spencer was tall, much taller than you. His figure towered over yours in an imposing way, but his soft and gentle touch helped you not to feel self-conscious in front of him, even when he was fully clothed and you were not. The gentleness with which he was treating you contrasted with the hardness of his kisses, but it was a change you gladly welcomed. Although it did make you wonder what he had planned for later.
"You're so beautiful," Spencer murmured against the skin of your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as his hands roamed your body. His fingers caressed your skin ever so gently, trailing up your arm all the way to your shoulder. He paused at your neck for a moment and a shiver ran down your spine as you imagined him closing his fingers over your throat, applying pressure until it was hard to breathe. But before you could put voice to your desires, his hand wandered down your back, fiddling with your bra before unclasping it.
"Spence, please." You begged in a whisper when you couldn't stand the anticipation any longer. As much as you enjoyed the attention of his hands on your body, you needed more. Much more. Your pussy was crying for attention, staining your underwear with your arousal.
Your broken voice went straight to Spencer's cock, your desperation was music to his ears, but he managed to keep his composure. He wanted to take his time with you. "What is it, baby? What do you want?" he asked in an almost condescending tone. He knew very well what you wanted, but he wanted to hear you say it.
“I want you,” you replied, not caring about how pathetic your voice sounded. You were desperate for some relief and were willing to do anything to get it. "I need you to touch me... to make me feel good."
Spencer didn't need to be told twice. He settled down on the bed again —his long legs stretched out on the comforter and his back resting against the bed frame— and gestured for you to sit on his lap. When you moved closer he turned you over, helping you to settle onto his body until you ended up sitting with your back against his chest. He used his legs to spread yours apart, opening them as wide as he could. You hated not being able to see his face easily, but the new position was exciting anyway. You could feel his hard cock twitching against your ass and had a privileged view of his hand as he slowly moved closer to where you needed it most.
"You're so wet already and I barely touched you," Spencer whispered against your ear, his breath brushing your skin as his fingers began to toy with your clit. "Is this all for me?"
"Y-yes,"you managed to mumble between ragged breaths, struggling to control the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips. You were in a hotel room and the rest of your co-workers were sleeping in the rooms next to yours. The last thing you wanted was to be discovered.
"No, don't hold back. I want to hear you moan. I want to know how good I'm making you feel." Spencer was desperate to hear you moan his name, it was all he had ever wanted from the first moment he saw you. He dreamed of your whimpers of pleasure, but they never felt real enough. His mind could never recreate the beautiful melody of your voice to perfection. But he could remember it forever if he could hear you.
Spencer increased the speed of his fingers and you weren't able to contain the moan that escaped your lips, nor the many others that followed. But even if you could, you wouldn't have done it because he wanted to hear you and his wishes were your command. Your body belonged to him in its entirety, you were his to do with you as he wished. 
"Good girl," he praised you, using his free hand to push your hair to the side so he could kiss and nibble on your neck. Each thing he did brought you a little closer to the edge. It was as if he had studied your body in preparation for this moment, as if he knew exactly what buttons to push to have you making a mess under his touch.
"Is this what you wanted?" Spencer growled against your ear, feeling his cock throbbing under the movements of your ass. Pure pleasure coursed through his veins as he listened to the whimpers escaping your lips. "Is this what you imagined every time you looked at my hands?"
"Yes! F-fuck, yes." Your voice came out in a broken moan, your brain fighting the haze of pleasure to form coherent sentences. Spencer was bringing you near climax in record time, you could feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. You didn't know how he was doing it, but you didn't want him to ever stop. "I thought about having your fingers deep inside me all this time and, f-fuck, and how good they would feel reaching places mime can't... yes! Just like that."
As if Spencer was using your fantasies as a guide, he slipped his middle and ring fingers inside you. Your velvety walls received them gladly, clasping around them to keep them there forever. Just as you had imagined, his long fingers felt wonderful, filling you in a way yours could not, and they reached that spongy place inside you in a matter of seconds making you see stars every time they caressed it.
"Oh god, Spence it feels so good... please" you murmured between moans and heaving breaths, gripping onto your lover's arm for support. Your body was on fire, your mind lost in pleasure. It all felt like too much and not enough at the same time. You were desperate to find that sweet relief, moving your hips against Spencer's hand to reach your climax.
"You're gonna cum for me like the good girl you are?" He spoke against your neck, biting into your skin and drawing a moan of pleasure from you. "You're gonna cum all over my fingers?"
"Yes! Yes, please, I wanna cum so bad," you begged him on the verge of tears and Spencer couldn't help but growl against your skin. Knowing that he was capable of making you cry out in pleasure with his fingers alone awakened something primal in him. The desperate sounds escaping your lips were the hottest thing he had ever heard and suddenly it became his mission to keep you crying with pleasure for as long as he possibly could.
Spencer increased the rhythm of his fingers and applied pressure to your clit with his palm so each time he moved his hand you would receive twice as much stimulation. "C'mon baby, cum for me," he encouraged you and his permission was all you needed to collapse into his arms.
Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body, which was squirming under Spencer's skilled hands that kept fucking you through your orgasm. Your lungs were screaming for air, but it was impossible for you to catch your breath. The world around you became a blur for a moment and the only thing your pleasure clouded brain was able to process was Spencer's voice praising you as his hands caressed your body.
"That's it... that's my good girl." You smiled, enjoying his compliments as you tried to catch your breath. 
But then you felt the hand that was still in your pussy begin to move once more. They were slow thrusts of his fingers inside you, but it was still a lot for your abused cunt, too sensitive from the orgasm it had just had. Your hand clutched at his wrist to try to stop it, but as you opened your eyes and looked down you couldn't help but let out a moan. You were convinced that there was no more erotic sight than that of his veiny hand buried in your pussy, moving in and out of you, giving you a glimpse of his skin glistening with your arousal in the dim light of the room.
"One more," Spencer told you, tugging on your hair to force your head back so you could look at him. It was a little rough, but you loved it, the pain going straight to your center. "I want one more and then I'll fuck you."
"I can't... too much" you tried to say, but your body betrayed you. Your pussy was dripping with excitement, your walls clinging to Spencer's fingers with desperation. Your hips were moving to his rhythm, following his lead and not yours. Your body no longer responded to you, it no longer belonged to you. It now belonged to Spencer and if he wanted you to cum one more time then you would.
"You can, I know you can," he encouraged you in a soft voice that contrasted with the roughness of his movements. He kissed you, his lips pressing against yours with a desperation that took what little breath you still had, and you surrendered completely to him. You stopped fighting your body's urges, trusting that Spencer knew what was best for you. He always did.
"That's it, baby. Let go for me, c'mon. I want to feel you cum on my fingers one more time." His words went straight to your pussy, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. It wasn't long before you started to feel like it was too much. Your legs shook uncontrollably with pleasure, but when you tried to close them Spencer didn't let you, using his to keep you wide open for him.
"'S too much… too much… can't" you mumbled incoherently as you felt the pleasure take over your whole body. Tears of utter pleasure streamed down your cheeks, each movement of your lover's hand bringing you closer to the edge you weren't sure you'd be able to cross. 
"Shh you're okay, you're okay" he reassured you, showering his kisses all over your neck and shoulder as he used his free hand to hold you in place. "You can do it. C'mon, I got you."
You clung to Spencer's arm as you braced yourself for the explosion of pleasure that was coming, your nails digging little half moons into his porcelain skin. He held you in place as your body shook violently as your second orgasm hit you, enjoying the incoherent cries of pleasure escaping your lips as you soaked his fingers with your arousal. It was music to his ears, the sweetest melody he had ever heard. 
"That's it, such a good girl for me." He praised you, but you were too lost to process his words. Your mind was completely lost in a fog of pure bliss, the world around you forgotten as your body twitched with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You could barely breathe and you couldn't remember your own name, but a smile formed on your face. Those had been the best orgasms of your life and you hadn't even had Spencer inside you yet.
"There you are!" you heard him say next to you. When you opened your eyes you discovered that at some point he had moved you, and now you were lying on the bed with him staring at you at your side. "Are you okay?" 
His voice was soft as his fingers gently caressed your cheek. It was quite a change from the man who minutes before was demanding you cum on his fingers, but you liked it. He was more like the usual Spencer and that was what you needed at that moment as you recovered from the two most intense orgasms of your life.
"I'm fine," you assured him with an ecstatic smile. You really were. Spencer had demanded a lot from you, but in the best possible way.
"Do you want to stop? Just say the word and I'll let you go to sleep."
"What? No, please, I want to feel you inside me." You begged with glazed eyes and Spencer let out a chuckle.
"Are you sure you can handle it?" he asked, looking at you with a raised eyebrow and you nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes! Please, I want to make you feel good. I want to be your good girl."
Spencer silenced your pleas with a kiss, his lips caressing yours ever so gently. Unlike the previous times, when desire, passion and desperation prevailed, this kiss was slow and sensual. He was taking his time to enjoy the moment, memorizing every little detail of your lips and your reactions to the caresses of his tongue. He wanted to experience everything with you, the urgency of passion and desire, as well as the tenderness of such an intimate moment. He wanted it all with you.
When he pulled away you let out a whimper in protest, missing his warmth the moment he got out of bed. However your protests were silenced when you rose up on your elbows and discovered that he was undressing. Before that moment you didn't think it was possible that the image of a man loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt could be so erotic, but Spencer proved you wrong. Your mind raced wildly with the thought of everything he could do to you with that tie or the belt, which fell to the floor with a metallic clank as he peeled off the layers of clothing. 
Anticipation bubbled up inside you once again as you stared at Spencer crawling towards you, looking at you like an animal at its prey. He gave you one last slow, tender kiss before settling between your legs, taking his cock in his hands and stroking it a couple of times before lining it up with your entrance.
"You ready, baby?" he asked you one more time to make sure you were okay, his voice no more than a raspy whisper that awakened a new wave of arousal inside you.
"Yes, please."
He was gentle as he entered you, giving you time to adjust to the size of his member as he enjoyed the warmth of your velvety walls. You both let out a moan as he bottomed out, your pussy tightening around his cock as you felt him deep inside you.
"So tight and warm for me," Spencer growled in your ear as he began to move, slowly dragging his cock almost all the way out before slamming back inside you with a quick, punishing thrust. "Taking me so well."
It was clear from the erratic, desperate rhythm of his hips that Spencer wasn't going to last long. He was so worked up after having you wriggling on his cock as you came twice that he was already close to the edge. But he still tried his best to drag the moment out as long as he could, thoroughly enjoying the way you had surrendered to him completely. He hadn't even had to ask you, you had simply accepted your role, desperate to be his good girl just as he had imagined. 
"You look so pretty like this, making a mess on my cock as I fuck you stupid," he praised you as he noticed your moans increasing in volume and incoherence. He felt you tighten around his member, letting out a pathetic moan of pleasure as you increased the rhythm of your hips, which moved against his in search of your orgasm.
"Feels s-so good, Spence… please." A couple of tears escaped your eyes as you begged him for relief, awakening that primal desire deep inside him again. There was something so erotic about the way you were moaning for him, crying for his cock, begging him to bring you to your climax one more time. You looked completely ruined, mascara running down your face and lipstick smeared across your lips after so many kisses, and he was the cause of it all. He was the one you were moaning for. He was the one you cried for. He was the one you begged for more even though you were completely ruined. He was the one who was making you feel so good. He and only he. You belonged to him. 
"You want to cum again, huh?" Spencer spoke in a condescending tone as he increased the pace and roughness of his thrusts. "Two orgasms are not enough for my girl? Is that it?"
You tried to ignore the way it made you feel to hear him call you 'his girl', attributing the warm feeling that spread through your body to desire and arousal. Though deep down you knew there was something more pure and innocent behind your reaction.
"Please, don't stop. I'm so close, f-fuck." The pleasure was overwhelming, coursing through your entire body, consuming every cell of your being. Your vision was blurring again, the tight knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.
Then Spencer lowered one of his hands to where your bodies joined as one, his fingers losing themselves in your wetness as they played with your clit. Your body began to twitch beneath his, your moans increasing in volume and quantity as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the sweet relief. You reached out to him, grabbing his arm in an attempt to ground yourself, frightened by the force of the powerful orgasm that threatened to destroy you completely. 
"I know, baby, I know." Spencer comforted your incoherent cries of pleasure, feeling your whole body tighten around his to hold him in place. The warm walls of your cunt clenched around his throbbing cock with every movement he made. Your legs hooked around his hips, pulling him even closer against you, his cock reaching deeper inside you with each thrust. You were both so close to cumming, but he wanted to feel you come undone around him first.
"Just let go for me, I got you."
You moaned his name, appreciating the tenderness in his voice as he encouraged you to cum. But you needed more, something to push you over the edge. And you knew exactly what that was.
Loosening your grip on his arm, you guided him up your body to where you needed him. Your hand rested on top of his as you gently settled it on your exposed neck, closing your fingers —and his— over your throat in an attempt to make him understand what you wanted.
Spencer looked at you with a surprised look, but you could see that flash of darkness shining in his eyes that let you know he liked the idea as much as you did. "Are you sure?" he asked you to make sure you were both on the same page about it.
"Please," you begged him with glazed eyes and Spencer felt his cock throbbing inside your pussy, feeling his orgasm approaching. You were definitely the perfect woman for him.
He began by applying a little pressure to the sides of your throat, feeling your veins pumping blood under his fingers. His hand was so big that he could almost wrap it around your entire neck, giving him a sense of power that awakened a wave of pleasure that coursed through his entire body. Knowing that you trusted him enough to let him choke you gave him a strange sense of relief. He wasn't the only one.
But what really sealed the deal for him was hearing your strangled moans as he applied enough force to limit your breathing a bit. 
"You're such a dirty little girl... you like getting fucked like a slut, huh?" Spencer asked the question on purpose, knowing you weren't going to be able to respond other than incoherent sounds from both the pleasure you were feeling and the pressure he was putting on your throat. But he knew you loved it, he could feel it in the way you were clenching down on his member. 
"Cum for me, c'mon. I want to feel you making a mess on my cock." His command was all you needed to let yourself be consumed by pleasure, the combination of his dirty words, his punishing thrusts and the pressure he exerted on your throat finally pushing you over the edge. 
Your whole body trembled beneath his as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through every inch of your body. You felt like you were on fire, floating in pure bliss as you heard Spencer praising you in the distance.
"That's my good girl, doing such a great job for me." Spencer's movements became more erratic and sloppy as he chased his own orgasm. His grip on your neck softened, but you didn't let him move his hand from there, grabbing his wrist to hold him in place.
"Please Spence, I want you to fill me up... I want to feel you cum inside me, pleaseee," you begged him with what little strength you had left, trying to push him over the edge. You looked at him with half-closed, slightly unfocused eyes, completely lost in the pleasure that flooded your insides. It was the hottest image Spencer had ever seen. You were ruined, so fucked out that you could barely think, and he was the one to blame for that.
You whimpered from the overstimulation, the sweet sound of your raspy moans driving him over the edge. He came with a grunt of pleasure, emptying his load inside you. He painted your velvety walls with rope after rope of cum, enough that the pearly white liquid trickled down your thighs and onto the bed. Spencer earned one last moan from you as he pulled out of you, collapsing beside you as you both struggled to catch your breath.
"Are you okay?" he asked you as he regained the ability to form coherent sentences. He shifted his body towards you, rising up on his arm and resting his head in his palm so he could look at you. "I wasn't too rough, was I?"
"No, no. You were perfect." You were quick to say, opening your eyes and turning to face him. He had his soft, innocent expression back, looking at you with adoration as he analyzed your face to make sure you were telling the truth. If it weren't for the smell of sex that flooded the room you would find it hard to believe that he was the same man who had fucked you until you forgot your own name.
"Everything was perfect." You added with a satisfied smile on your face that he mimicked. 
A silence formed as you tried to process what had happened. Now that your mind was clear of the fog of desire and passion that blocked your thinking you realized the position you had put yourselves in. You were friends and co-workers and at the time you had no way of knowing how this slip-up was going to affect both relationships. You figured you would have time to sort it out, but for now you needed to get out of there before you fell asleep and the rest of the team discovered you leaving the same room in the morning. So you carefully got up, holding onto the bed frame until your legs got used to supporting the weight of your body again, and looked for your clothes that had been left behind, scattered on the floor of the room.
"What are you doing?" Spencer asked, watching you struggle to put your underwear back on.
"Putting my clothes back on?" you replied as if it were obvious, grabbing your shirt off the floor. "I need it. Unless you want me to walk down the hallway naked I-"
"Stay," he interrupted you, grabbing your hand to force you to stop. "Please." He sounded so soft and vulnerable that there was no way you could say no, even though you knew it was a terrible idea.
“What about the team?”
“We can wake up a little earlier so you can sneak back to your room.”
You weren't fully convinced. There were a lot of things that could go wrong —what if you were called away in the middle of the night? how would you explain that you were not in your room but in Spencer's room sleeping with him if one of your co-workers knocked on your door before you got back?—, but Spencer kissed you and all concerns left your system. You let the soft movement of his lips quiet the voices in your head, surrendering to his charms once again.
"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up so we can go to sleep." He whispered against your lips, giving you one last short kiss before guiding you to the shower. You let him take care of you, allowing him to wash your hair and carefully massage the soap over your body, and in gratitude you did the same for him. The tenderness and intimacy of sharing a shower contrasted with the rough sex you had had, but you liked it. The same way you liked sleeping snuggled in his arms. He was your favorite pillow, the warmest and most comfortable blanket you had ever slept with. 
You were pretty sure you couldn't go back to normal after discovering how happy it made you feel to be surrounded in Spencer's arms, but you were okay with that. You had plenty of time to talk about your future in the morning. For now all you wanted to do was enjoy the moment, letting your lover's deep breaths lull you to sleep.
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seventies-arcana · 1 year ago
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PAC: you're someone's muse; this is how they'd describe you
good evening lovies, i hope tonights super moon is treating you well. in this pac reading, you will find out how someone would describe you if you were their muse. this reading is purely for entertainment and enjoyment purposes.
ask upon your guides/higher self to help guide you to whichever pile/photo you should pick, then read the corresponding message. images are not mine
pick a picture to begin✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
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pile one (the field): pleasing + give way
you are such a pleasing and enjoyable person to spend time with. the things you are able to do, no matter how minuscule you might find them to be, are awe-striking. there's a passion behind your eyes that adds to the radiance that surrounds you. with this, you are very attentive. you remember things people say which makes others feel seen in a way they've never felt before. you're down for whatever in the best way possible and it makes you someone that could only ever be described as fun to be around. you're adventurous at heart and consider home to be wherever your loved ones are. this makes people feel safe around you. the smell of late summer, campfires and sunflowers is something to be associated with you. you're a breath of fresh air.
pile two (the clementine): care + apple of the eye
oh, you are just so sweet. so kindhearted. you care for people so deeply and love so wholeheartedly. you make people see their insecurities as something to find beautiful. your hugs make people feel protected, it is easy to fall asleep when wrapped up in your arms. your eyes are mesmerizing, so easy to get lost in. one moment, they are doe-like, the next, the exact opposite. it's the way you flirt with your eyes that makes others feel so weak in the knees. but this doesn't make you cheeky. in fact, you are loyal and committed to the one you love. because when you love, you love intensely. you are a romantic at heart. your energy is reminiscent of candle lit homemade dinners that begin a night of endless cuddles. of fresh florals and luscious baths. you are a place of comfort.
pile three (the cat): challenge + puppy energy
you will never lower your standards or settle for someone who isn't what you want, and that is just so attractive. you know what type of relationships you want and that adds to your appeal. not just anyone can be the reciprocator of your divine affection. you speak to people once and they cant help but want to learn more about you. you're siren-like without even intending to be. once you truly let someone into your heart, you become such a lovable softie. you are so sweet and wholesome when you love, no one would ever guess it. your reminiscent of fresh linen blankets in perfectly cool rooms. your touch is soft and soothing. when you smile, genuinely smile, it brightens the mood of anyone around to see it. to be able to receive the love you give is one in a million. you are unlike anyone else.
pile four (the beach): no judgements + new perspectives
you are the model example of how everyone should be. you are accepting of people, no matter their status, and care deeply for those who may have been overlooked by others. you treat people however they treat you. you know your worth and will never let someone tarnish it. you are unapologetically yourself and that is something so rare to find, it makes others captivated by you. nonetheless, you are mysterious. you savor some aspects of yourself and only show them to the people you love. these aspects of you are the most rewarding thing to experience. every now and then, you can be mischievous. but it is all in good fun. you are filled with surprises and each one of them adds to your allure. you remind others of violets and nights spent walking along the coastline. you are utterly captivating.
please like, follow, and reblog! i appreciate it a lot :)
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ginax0916 · 10 months ago
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Can you do a story where the reader has low iron or something of that genre and she passes out and chris comforts her? 💗
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・:*:。𝐈’𝐦 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞ೃ࿔*:・
Chris Sturniolo x Fem!reader
Genre - Fluff
Synopsis- reader has low iron and passes out but Chris is there to comfort her :)
I’ve been hanging out with the triplets all day. We have been watching movies and we even filmed one of their Wednesday videos and pre filmed a Friday car video. Which all took a lot of time and energy. I’m guessing that explains the reason to why I feel so tired. I just feel like my bones are giving out. Like I have no strength. Not to mention every time I stand up I feel the need to grab on to something because everything is spinning. I keep getting dizzy and my vision is starting to blur and then come back. But I really just think I need a nap and I’ll be fine.
“Hey you in there??” Chris snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Hm? What’d you say?” I question him.
“I asked if you wanted to to go out to eat with us, we’re gonna go to the diner downtown” Chris said smiling.
“Yea sure I’ll go” I answered.
I stood up and immediately felt dizzy. The room was spinning in endless circles and my vision kept blurring out. I felt two arms grab me to keep me from falling.
“Woah you ok?” Chris asked with a worried expression as he kept his hands on my arms making sure I wouldn’t fall.
“Uh yea yea just felt dizzy but I’m fine” I replied trying to ignore what just happened to avoid any more questions.
As Matt drove us all to the diner I stared out the windowing thinking to myself. Could this all have something to do with my anemia? I’ve had low iron my whole life and just recently I had gotten diagnosed with anemia but I really don’t think much of it. I usually forget I even have it because nothing ever happens.
“We’re here” Matt said already getting out of the car.
Focused on unbuckling myself and grabbing my phone I didn’t realize Chris had opened the door for me. I thanked him before getting out of the car. And there it is. That feeling again where I feel like my knees are giving up and my visions is fading. I grab onto Chris’s arm to try and stable myself. He grabs my hips helping me stay still. My body feels weak and I lean on Chris for support. He wraps his arms around me helping me gain stability.
“You sure you’re feeling ok ma? You keep losing your balance when you stand up, something wrong?” He asked frowning. His eyes searching my face for any uncomfortable expression that could possibly give him answers.
“I just keep feeling dizzy when I stand up but I’m good” I smile at him. Though deep down I know somethings wrong I just don’t wanna burden anyone with my problems.
“You guys coming or what!” Nick suddenly yells snapping us out of our conversation.
We all ordered and ate our food and we were just waiting on the check. Nick and Matt were having they’re own convo about some video ideas they were both laughing about. Suddenly I felt a tap on my thigh and looked up.
“Ok what’s wrong? You look tired, you haven’t said a word, and you keep getting all dizzy y/n” Chris asked really starting to worry now.
“You won’t tell anyone?” I shyly asked looking down.
“Not a single soul baby” He chuckled, the nickname making me blush.
“I’ve been feeling off lately and I think it all has to do with my anemia” I said embarrassed. Chris noticing it.
“Why’s that embarrassing? It’s pretty common y’know?” He said rubbing my arm soothingly.
“I just don’t wanna burden you with my issues” I admit.
“Y/n are you insane? You’re not burdening anyone with anything. If anything I’m here to help you ok?” Chris said with a big smile on his face.
“Thank you Chris”
“Alright you guys ready to go?” Matt asked as he left a tip for the waiter on the table.
“Yep let’s go”
That’s when things started to go down hill. The car ride felt like hell. I was sweating like crazy but I felt cold. Then my hands were shaking and my teeth were chattering but I felt like I was boiling. My breathing started to become unsteady. I felt nauseous too. Every possible feeling you could have I was experiencing it. As soon as we arrived I opened the door to get out, and my knees locked. My vision started going black. Like everything was being painted black. I held onto the car trying to get support but it was no use.
“Oh fuck” I heard Chris say before everything went dark.
Chris Pov:
“Oh my god oh my god what do we do? Is she dead? Do I call 911?” Nick panicked like always.
“No it’s fine it’s just her anemia it’s happened before we just have to bring her inside and lay her down. Matt go open the door” I said as I grabbed her and carried her bridal style inside the house.
I knew something was wrong. Since the second we finished filming those videos I could tell she wasn’t feeling well. I just wish she would’ve told me instead of feeling like a burden.
I laid her down on the couch and put a blanket over her. I felt her forehead and it was really cold so I went and wet a towel with warm water and placed it on her head carefully. I gently held her cheek in my hand rubbing it softly with my thumb.
“Oh poor thing” I said quietly.
I got the towel off her head and sat next to her waiting for her to wake up. Its been around 5 minutes and I’m starting to think maybe I should call 911.
“Chris?” I quiet and fragile voice said.
“Oh my god y/n you’re awake” I said, careful not to startle her.
“Are you ok baby? Does anything hurt?” I asked holding her face in hands as she sat up. She sniffled and tears started to slowly fall down her delicate skin.
“Oh ma c’mere. It’s ok I’m right here. I got you, you’re ok pretty girl” I softly talked to her, rubbing her back soothing as I cradled her in my arms.
“I hate when that happens” She managed to get out between cries.
“I know I know I do too” I agreed with her and wiped tears off her face.
“Take deep breathes ma, can you do that for me?” I moved her body so she was now sitting on my lap comfortably.
“Yes” Y/n mumbled snuggling her head into the crook of my neck making me smile.
“Good girl” I praised her.
Soon enough the tears stopped and her breathing was back to normal.
“Thank you Chris” She said as she planted a soft kiss on my jawline.
“I told you I’m always here”
Was this too long? Ty for the request by the way I hope what I wrote is somewhat what you meant 😭 Also Tysm for all the support on my last post it means the world to me. Pls keep requesting it rlly helps 🫶🏻🫶🏻
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watchmegetobsessed · 1 year ago
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THE FINAL SHOW
A/N: last night was a rollercoaster of emotions and i still can't believe love on tour is over, but it will always have a special place in my heart. one thing is for sure, im sill here and i will continue writing for this amazing human until he returns onto the stage where he belongs.
WORD COUNT: 2.6k
SUMMARY: You made a promise in the beginning of Love On Tour and now it's catching up with you and though your heart wants you to keep your word, you know it's not that easy, because it's about your boss, the person who matters the most to you.
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You should have learned by now that Harry Styles never forgets.
He remembers every birthday, anniversary, every story anyone tells him, he remembers fans he has interacted with and he is extremely good with names. It’s definitely one thing you admire about him.
But know this tiny detail about him did not teach you to watch what you say around him, because he will recite your words even years later.
It’s been an on and off tango between the two of you for a long time. As his assistant, you’ve been dancing on the line of being professional and jumping into his bed whenever he does as so much as looking at you with those stupid, gorgeous eyes. He is your job, you keep telling that to yourself, but deep down you know he is more than just that.
He is… everything.
It would be easier if he only saw you as his assistant, but that’s not the case. Just how you caught those certain feelings, Harry has shown interest towards you, on several occasions, flirting with you bluntly, asking you out every possible chance.
And each time, when you turned down, a voice in your head screamed at you, but your rationality has been stronger so far and it hasn’t let you take that leap that would change everything forever.
Now, back to his immaculate memory.
You’d been working for him for over a year when the first European leg of Love On Tour was about to start, the residency shows were set to be announced and along with the South American, Australian and Asian dates and another full European leg was in the planning phase. Tour was looking endless and everyone on the team was joking that there won’t be a final show of Love On Tour.
Following another meeting in Harry’s LA home you were hanging out by his pool, something that happened quite often, because he liked to share what he had with the people around him. The sun was setting and you both had several glasses of wine, so the business talk has been long forgotten when you ordered food for the two of you.
You were in the shallow, lounge area of the pool where you could sit in the water and you were enjoying a hamburger while he was swimming around, watching you. You caught him looking right in the middle of a huge bite.
“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him as he swam closer with a grin on his face.
“You look amazing.”
You snorted out loud, mouth full and probably smelling like onions.
“I’m sure I do,” you sarcastically said. “Is this what turns you on? Chewing and onion smell?”
“No. It’s you.”
You stopped and gave him a suspicious look. He moved over and sat beside you.
“You turn me on, Y/N,” he added, when you didn’t say anything, just leisurely staring back at you, as if he hadn’t just overstepped a major boundary between boss and employee.
“Harry, stop,” you mumbled, putting the remainder of your burger to the plate at the edge of the pool.
“What? You started it with guessing what turns me on.”
“It was just a joke!”
“Okay, and I told you the truth.”
“You definitely shouldn’t be saying shit like that to me.”
“Too late, already did, so I think we could take it even further,” he shrugged and you couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“Oh, you are something else, Harry Styles, you know that?”
“That didn’t sound like a no to me,” he grinned, moving just a tad bit closer, but still respecting your private space. “I really want to kiss you, Y/N,” he bluntly added and you knew it was the wine talking from him, sober Harry wouldn’t have said those words out loud, but it didn’t fail to make you feel dizzy and weak.
“That’s not gonna happen now,” you shook your head.
“Okay, if not now, then when?”
“You are so annoying,” you laughed again. “You know what? You can kiss me when Love On Tour officially ends,” you joked.
It was a genuine joke. Anyone would have known you didn’t mean it, but it was Harry you said it to and the moment the words left your mouth they burned into his memories forever.
“Alright then,” he simply said, splashed you and then swam away.
That was the beginning of 2022. You slept off the wine and though you never forgot you said it, you didn’t keep track of the promise you initially made.
Harry did, however.
Not one day went by without him thinking about those words and it was the only reason he was looking forward for the very last show of Love On Tour.
He’s been acting weird, probably since about Vienna. With two weeks until the end of tour and his break, your workload hasn’t gotten less so you couldn’t really care about his weirdness, but when you’re out for dinner in Barcelona with the band and some other crew members and two rounds of drinks have been consumed already, you finally acknowledge the change.
“Hey, you alright?” You poke your elbow into his side, stealing a fry from his plate. Shrugging, he pushes the plate closer to you.
“Just thinking.”
“About what?” you ask, snacking on his leftover fries.
“The end of tour.”
Freezing you instantly remember to that one conversation in his pool. You peek at him and find him already looking at you with a gaze that burns right into your heart. Clearing your throat you turn back to the fries and pretend like you don’t remember the promise you made.
“Just two more weeks and you’re free.”
“That’s not how I see it.”
“Mmm,” you hum, but don’t dare to look at him. You can feel his eyes on the side of your face, but luckily, before he could bring up anything specific Mitch call out his name from across the table and you’re relieved. For now.
It’s almost midnight when you all head back to the hotel and you and Harry somehow end up at the back of the group. The elevator is too full for the two of you to get in as well, so you wait for another round. While you’re still ignoring to look at him, he is very much only looking at you, it feels like.
The elevator returns and you get inside, but Harry pushes the button for the top floor.
“Hey, that’s—“
“I want to show you something,” he hold up a hand.
The top of the hotel has a rooftop bar with an amazing view of the city, the perfect grid of the streets, it’s breathtaking.
“I knew you would like it,” he smiles, leaning against the railing next to you, with his back towards the view, as if he was way more interested in seeing you than the city.
“Because you know me so well,” you chuckle softly.
“I do,” he answers quietly. “We have only four more shows.”
“Mhm,” you nod, eyes glued to the view in front of you.
“The final show of Love On Tour is in ten days.”
“I’m glad you keep track of the shows so well, I feel like I’m not even needed anymore,” you joke with a chuckle, but when you finally look at him you know why he is bringing all of these up.
“Do you remember what you promised would happen when the last show finally comes?”
“Harry…”
“You do,” he simply says. “I know you as someone who keeps her word.”
“It’s… Harry, that was never a promise, I was just joking!”
“None of it is a joke to me, Y/N.”
You roll your eyes, but hate the effect his words have on you. Like your whole inside is on fire, begging to just give in finally, to end this years long game and act on the feelings you’ve been pushing down so hard all this time.
Sighing you cross your arms over your chest. You want to make fun out of it again and say that it was all just about a kiss, but you know, you both know that it would never stop at one kiss, that it’s bigger than that and it would consume you fully if you let your walls down.
“This seems like a big mistake,” you tell him honestly. “What if it goes wrong and… I lose my job… and you.”
Your voice breaks at the end and you can’t look him in the eyes. You’ve spent endless nights thinking about what would happen if you gave in and it all went downhill. Your job might be the last thing on the list of worries, what really scares you is to imagine a version of your life without him because.
It would break you.
“Being scared of the wrong outcome will keep you away from the best things in your life, Y/N.”
“Did you just call yourself the best thing in my life?” you try to joke, but he just gives you a look.
“Don’t think about the what ifs, if you get there, you’ll figure it out. You always do. We always do.”
“This is not that simple,” you shake your head. “You know it’s not that simple.”
“But it is,” he chuckles, but you keep shaking your head. “Figuring out my feelings has never been this simple.”
There’s a heartbeat of silence when not even you know whether you’re about to give in or not and for a split second it actually feels like you’re breaking, but something pulls you back last minute.
“No. And we should be heading back, you have a show tomorrow. You need to get some rest.”
You step away from the railing and start walking back, but when you notice that he’s not coming you turn around and see him staring at the city this time. Opening your mouth you’re about to call out for him, but then change your mind and let him be, walking back to your room.
When you see him again in the morning he doesn’t bring it up again and you’re convinced he won’t bring your promise up again.
The last show has everyone all over the place, you’ve been running around since about six in the morning, picking up people, making sure the hotel check-ins go smoothly and everything is exactly how it should be. The day feels like a whole week, but the excitement and bittersweet sadness that’s been wrapped around everyone is what keeps you up on your feet still.
But the real weight of the last show hits the moment it finally starts.
This is the time when you have nothing to do so you watch Harry perform every night, meaning that this is the 169th time you’re seeing him take the stage and perform just as perfectly as he did at the first, the fiftieth and one hundredth show. He always gives his absolute most. Not just at his shows, but in his life as well. That’s one of the million reasons you fell for him.
Medicine has everyone dying, all 100 thousand people out there and then Harry starts giving his speech that’s extra long this time, talking about how grateful he is for everything, for his fans, his friends and family and it’s one big emotional mess and you can’t help but cry a bit as well, watching from the side.
“The last two years of my life, the last two years of this tour has been the greatest experience I could ever ask for…”
“I see it, the love, in how it’s affected all the people around me, continue to affect people. It does not end with this tour.”
“I love you, thank you so much.”
Screaming rolls over the crowd as an answer and you expect him to go on with starting As It Was, but then he starts talking again.
“There is one more thing I want to say tonight. I have learned and experienced so much in the past years. I will be forever thankful for the memories we’ve made.”
There. He said we, he switched up his narrative. That’s how you know he is not talking to the crowd. He is talking to you.
“If this is it, if it never goes beyond this, I would live a happy life. With you forever in my heart. But if we ever take it further, if we ever take the risk and reach for the stars and we might fall… just know that I will always be here for you. You can never lose me. No matter what. I love you.”
You suck on your breath, covering your mouth with your hand as you stare at him stand in the middle of the stage, staring out ahead of him, the crowd screaming for him, oblivious to the one sided conversation that just happened between you and him.
As It Was starts and the show carries on towards the end, but you’re still frozen in that moment and when the show ends and you watch Harry drop to his knees on the stage, you know things will never be the same.
Backstage is like a tornado once the show is over, the band walks off the stage and Harry is following right behind with Lloyd by his side, but when he sees you standing still in the middle of the madness, he drops out of the conversation right away and stops a few feet away from you, letting you decide where to go now.
“You promise?” you breathe out, your throat closing up. “You promise I will never lose you?”
“I thought that was clear by now, Y/N,” he replies, his chest still rapidly rising and falling. “But if you need me to actually say it, I will. You will never lose me, no matter what. It will always be you and me and I know you’re scared, but I’m—“
He doesn’t get to finish, because you’re already throwing yourself into his arms and kissing him.
It doesn’t matter that the whole crew bursts out into screaming and whistling, that you’re giving a second show with the way you get lost in each other, because in your little bubble it’s just you and Harry and everything that’s been building between the two of you.
Every joke, every teasing comment, all the stolen looks and suppressed feeling that was never acted on is now free, they all burst out of your chest and into the electricity that’s snaking around you as you keep taking more and more of him, hungry to make up for the past years.
The clapping dies down when you finally pull back, forehead resting against his, his hands holding you so tight as if he was afraid you might run away any moment.
“You kept your promise. I knew you were trusty, Y/N Y/L/N,” he chuckles, pecking your lips softly again as you laugh at his words, finally opening your eyes to look at him.
“Actually I feel like I kissed you. I promised you could kiss me, so technically—“
“Shut up, you’re already getting on my nerves,” he laughs, kissing you over and over again, so your promise is actually fulfilled. “Can’t wait for you to do that every day for the rest of my life.”
“I thought that was part of my job too, have I not been doing that?” you tease, lips moving against his as you speak.
“You have, but you can take it to a whole new level now,” he laughs, pulling you against him before letting you go and popping the bubble, though his hand never lets go of yours, not while everyone congratulates him, not when the final show celebrations start and not when he pulls you into his hotel room to end this journey of Love On Tour with you by his side, but also start a new chapter.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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sxorpiomooon · 4 months ago
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How do they feel about you - pac reading
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Pile 1
Pile 1 I'm sorry, the first thing I noticed was that my eyes kept forcing themselves to shut down for some reason it's like when you are thinking about someone and you sort of force yourself not to that's the vibe. I feel as if this person feels like you are walking away from this connection. I want to tell you that you are very brave for making this decision as I can see how stressed you look. Pile 1 might be extremely exhausted I heard "it's time to go" and had a vision of a clock tickling a brown one very light or dark academia core I think it was 9 o clock? I heard "i let go off what no longer serves me". This person has a victim complex they still that they are the victim here, the one who was wronged they are refusing to see the truth it reminds me of the first thing I mentioned while writing this the eye thing. This person self sabotages things and then cries about it. It's like someone is crying with their eyes closed to everyone that they are tied with rope and can't move but they don't realise that they are never tied in the first place. OML im so mad😭😭😭 this person has placed everything in your power I'll tell you what this is the kind of man who would NEVER plan ANY dates or anything and will ALWAYS say "we'll see" etc I'm so mad this person refuses to put any efforts and wants you to do all the WORK and they might also Gaslight you oh my pile 1 you are doing right throw this son of. A bitch away this made me mad too. Also for those who need it, the flower that you guys choose is lotus and the reason why lotus is my favourite flavour is because even while being surrounded by mud, it never loses it's beauty and goodness. I hope you remember that<3
Pile 2
i like this whoever this person is they might be really forgetful air signs if you are asking about a man ooo he good looking might have good eyes but dark circles I'm seeing a dark blue tshirt and very dim yellow lights is this a party no idea a libra is involved anyways this might be a new connection or you guys might be starting a new cycle. Also the second thing I got and I forgot to include was that whenever this person remembers you they might do it in a very pleasant manner it's like a bunch of people talking about you and all a sudden they'll be like "ooooooo xyz? Oh yea they're good they're nice they're very nice i like them" that's the vibe I'm seeing whiskey??? This connection has alot of raw potential only slowly unleashing or revealing itself now, you have the power to take this connection wherever you want it go rn. There are endless possibilities. Apples keep playing in my head SOMEONE STPP IT. I hope you don't take this the wrong way but I feel like either they feel like this or its both of your energy but there's something about childhood trauma here I keep hearing something shattering like plates or glasses broken family and disharmony is what I heard. And this person might also think that you might be a loner or someone who just really enjoys their own company I had a vision of painting? I guess this might also be interpreted as this was a connection with alot of potential but past trauma kinda ruined shit for the both of you and if that's the case I'm so sorry to my pile 2
Pile 3
Someone here might speak like singing as in even while saying normal sentences you might say it in a very melodious manner something about singing also had a vision of a takeaway as in the window and vibing alibi started playing YOU WONT BELIEVE WHAT UUST HAPPENEDNNOTONCE BUT TWIECE OKAY MY RUMBLR CRASHED OUT OF NOWHERE AND THEN OPENED AND I WAS SVARWD THAT MY 3NTIRE READING WILL BE WASTED BUTBIT GOT RESTORED AND THEN IT HAPPENED AGAIN BUT AGAIN IT WAS RESTORED. Anyways for some of you something might have happened in this connection that destroyed it as in there was so much hope and light which all ended up in darkness for some reason "all this rage was once love" came to my mind and a very nice warming instrumental played in my head. This is a pile for a very few of you, you might be asking for a past connection. I think there is hope however there's also a need to let go off your emotional baggage in order to continue to connection or for anything. This person also feels this way, that you might have walked away or both of you did because of the unreleased trauma. I hope everything works out in your favour pile 3 <3
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kyeomkuppie · 5 months ago
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Rooftop.
Pairing: Wonwoo x gn!reader
Genre: I honestly don't know but let's just say crack and a pinch of angst
Warnings: Wonwoo thinks reader is about to commit suicide
Synopsis: You were just trying to get a better look at the sky, but someone misunderstood and tried to save you.
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You valued your peace of mind and the best way (in your opinion) to clear your mind was to look at the stars. At the edge of a rooftop.
Yeah, not the smartest idea but who cares!
Technically, anyone was bound to see a random person standing at a rooftop, misunderstand the situation, then call for help. Something you didn't exactly take into account.
And bingo as you had guessed, not only did someone see you, someone was at the same rooftop thinking you were about to jump, and you being at the edge didn't exactly help either.
Out of nowhere, you felt yourself being pulled backwards. Your back was now against the chest of a random stranger, and to make matters worse, on top of him.
"Uh, excuse me?" You were baffled and you didn't really know how to explain without him thinking you were lying "Can you let me go, please?"
No answer.
Oh shit. Is he dead? I don't think I'm that heavy though. You were thinking of the endless possibilities of you being charged for involuntary manslaughter. Great.
You finally feel the person who you thought you murdered move. "Are you okay? Why did you pull me like that? You could've been hurt!" You turned around only to be left awestruck. At least he was handsome.
His eyebrows were furrowed and his breathing was heavy, yeah it isn't the time for flirting. "How could you treat your life like it's something to be toyed with! You can't simply choose to end it because things are getting rough." His tone was stern and angry— but wait.
What? Your mind short-circuited for second. He thought you were doing what!
"What about your loved ones and the people who would blame themselves for your death? At least think about all those variables before treating your life like-"
"Excuse me?! I was just standing like a normal person, looking at the damn sky. I wasn't toying with my life, I was enjoying it!" You were starting to get riled up as well, couldn't he at least wait to hear what you had to say about yourself— and wait, what does he even have to do with it?!
"You shouldn't lie about things like this! If you need help, say it."
There's was no convincing this man. "Listen here stranger, if I needed help I would in fact ask for it. But can't a person watch the fucking sky in peace." You huffed "Why are you even making a big deal out of it? It's not like we know each other."
You pushed his hands which were gripping you away. "At least try to understand, I mean it's not the smartest thing to do, to stand at the edge of a rooftop I mean, but I assure I wasn't trying to do anything you were thinking of."
You had an idea! Not the smartest either but good enough "Want to grab a meal?" If he didn't say yes, you'd bury yourself alive, but you wouldn't have to see him again. If he said yes, you'd resolve that misunderstanding and you could go your separate ways.
He suddenly realized that his body was so tense and his body was still on the ground.
You gulped as he proceeded to get up. His features became more clear. His face had a soft expression but his eyes were sharp, so was his jaw. Yeah, you were right, he was one handsome fellow.
He was weirded out by your spontaneous personality. One moment you were all angry, and the next you were asking him to grab dinner? Yeah, not normal.
"Fine. I'll pretend that I believe you, and we'll go grab dinner. But for the love of god go stargaze anywhere but at the edge. I had the ambulance ready." He scratched his neck.
"Okay Mr. Overdramatic." You laughed, it was a peculiar day, not the peaceful kind you usually preferred, but definitely a day to remember.
"Wonwoo."
"Hm?" You tilted your head in confusion.
"If we're going out for a meal, you might as well know my name." He shrugged.
Yeah, he had split personalities, you were sure of it.
"[name]." You extended your hand "It was nice meeting you here— wait what were you doing up here?!" Your eyes widenened.
"I was stargazing."
"Yeah, no shit. I'll pretend that I believe you." You mimicked him from earlier.
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Inspired by that one scene in true beauty.
Reblogs and comments are appreciated!
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janmisali · 1 year ago
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the "what number comes next?" problem
here's a sequence of numbers:
3198, 11, 734, 11, 1115, 11, 1440...
can you guess what number comes next?
that's right, it's another eleven! but what comes after that?
well, in this case it happens to be 1936. can you figure out the pattern? how far into the sequence could you predict?
this is a pretty hard problem, and in the most general form (I give you any sequence of numbers and ask you what number comes next) there's literally no way to solve it perfectly. the possibilities are endless!
but just because something is impossible to do perfectly doesn't mean you can't try. in the sequence at the start of the post, even though there was no guarantee that there's another eleven next, there's a sense in which that's the most "sensible" continuation, the one that follows the pattern most closely.
here's another sequence:
24794, 24794, 24794, 24794, 24794, 24794...
wouldn't it be reasonable to assume that the next number is another 24794? you might even be able to use some fancy statistical model to specify exactly how confident you are that the next number is another 24794.
but of course, without knowing the underlying meta-pattern that generates these patterns, there's no real reason to assume that any one pattern will be more likely than another.
so what if instead of just showing you one sequence of numbers, I showed you a lot of sequences of numbers? is there is a method of discovering this meta-pattern, assuming one exists?
the answer is, sorta! it depends on how many examples you're given and on how chaotic the underlying meta-pattern is.
so, you know how when you have a bunch of data plotted on a graph you can find the "best-fit line"? the closer the data is to being a line in the first place, the better this approximation will work.
defining a line only uses two parameters (mx+b), but the thing is that if you make a more complicated function with more parameters to play around with (as long as you're clever about it), you can define a relatively-simple mathematical equation that gets arbitrarily close to any data, no matter how messy that data is! you can just keep adding more parameters until you have enough to model the complexity of the given data.
now, the more parameters you have the more expensive it is computationally to find what configuration of all the parameters gets your fancy approximation as close to the data as possible (there are some linear algebra and calculus tricks that help!), but depending on the application, you can use this sort of method to get good-enough approximations to whatever data it is that you want to model!
however, this doesn't mean you've actually found the underlying meta-pattern. it's just a fancier version of looking at data you've already seen and drawing lines between points to interpolate between things. any approximation made this way will be in a sense "smoother" than what it's modeling, always predicting (for this application) that the next number in the sequence is the "average" in some sense of all the things that could come next, gravitating towards the most default and "boring" patterns.
anyway that's how chatgpt works
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melanieph321 · 4 months ago
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heyy,
Coyou do Kenan Yildiz x reader being teen parents?
Love this! ❤️
SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 3.0
(DAY 5)
Kenan Yildiz x Reader - Only For One Day
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Enjoy!
Your son turned five today. As a single mother, you always feard inadequacy. You feard not being enough or doing enough to keep your only child happy. And today was one of those days.
Despite being surrounded by friends and family, with a cake to feed a whole village, your son, Romeo, couldn't be more miserable on his birthday.
"Time to make a wish." Your mom said, having lit the last birthday candle. The cake was set on the table before your son, who regarded it with furrowed brows.
"Go on baby, blow out the candles and make a wish." You encouraged.
His frown deepend, followed by a shake of his head. "I want daddy to help me blow them out."
Your heart dropped.
"Great, I guess that means no cake for us."
"Dad, please." You sighed and knelt down before your son's chair. "Baby, we've talked about this, haven't we?" Daddy couldn't make it today because of his very important job. But he sent you some really nice gifts, didn't he?"
"I don't want gifts, I want daddy!"
It was heartbreaking to see Romeo storm up to his room, abandoning his own birthday celebrations. You were quickly consoled by your family, all of them telling you that you weren't the one to blame. However, it didn't feel fair to blame it all on Kenan. No matter how hard you tried, the two of you just couldn't make the relationship work. The endless bickering brought out the worst in both of you, eventually leaving your son to grow up in a split home, confused as to why his parents never celebrated his birthday together.
You went to bed late that night, retreating to your room after checking on Romeo, who lay fast asleep in his bed. There, seated on the edge of your bed, you made the tough decision to put your pride aside and call your ex-boyfriend.
"Y/N?"
The phone rang for less than a beat before Kenan's sharp voice sparked through the phone. "Is everything alright? How is Romeo?" He asked, with slight distress considering the late hour of which you decided to call him.
"Romeo is fine." You said, to which Kenan sighed in relief.
"Oh, okay. Good. How was the birthday party? Did he like the things I sent him?"
"Yeah, about that...." You sat with the phone pressed to your ear, imagining Kenan in whatever place in the world he may be. You once made it clear to him that you were to have sole custody of your son. Leaving Kenan to live the life he always dreamt of living, the life of a professional football player. However, as the father of your son, he was free to see Romeo whenever you saw fit. Hopefully, tomorrow was one of those days.
"What? Did something happen at the party?" He asked.
"Yes, Romeo refused to blow out the candles on his birthday cake unless you were there to help him."
"I see."
"Yeah, he was really upset." You said, twisting the corners of your bed sheets.
"You know...." Kenan said, reviving the hopeful beating of your heart. "I'm not too far away. Juventus is playing Turin this weekend, so I'm actually in town tomorrow if you want me to...."
"I want you to." You nodded eagerly, although Kenan wouldn't possible know.
"Great. I'll see you tomorrow then."
"Tomorrow." You shirrped, fast to hang up the phone before regretting ever making the call in the first place. Nevertheless, it was done. Your son was getting the birthday he deserved.
The next day you were a nervous wreck, forcing yourself to put on a brave face as you greeted Kenan at the door.
"Hey, Kenan," you said, trying to sound casual. "Thanks for coming."
"Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world." Kenan handed you a gift for Romeo. Another one, you thought.
"Thanks again for inviting me," he said, his voice low and smooth.
Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes. You could see the old spark there, the one that had once made you fall in love with him. However, you pushed those feelings aside, focusing on your son.
Romeo was running around the living room with his cousins, laughing and having the time of his life. Your family had thankfully agreed to a redo of yesterday's celebrations and did not judge your decision to invite Kenan this time around.
As the celebrations went on, you and Kenan found yourselves drawn to each other, not helping to exchange a few pleasantries, and before long, you were laughing and joking again, just like old times. But as the night wore on, you began to feel a pang of sadness. You knew that this was just a temporary reprieve, that the old feelings you had for Kenan would eventually fade, and the two of you would be back to where you were now. Separated. Still, you couldn't help but enjoy the moment to savor the happiness that Kenan brought to your son. He was undoubtedly a great dad.
As the celebrations came to an end, you hugged Romeo tightly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Thank you for coming, Kenan," you said, voice choked with emotion.
"No, thank you," he replied, his voice just as soft. "For giving me the best gift I could ever ask for." He regarded the two you with loving eyes. You smiled, knowing that this was exactly what Romeo needed - to see his parents getting along, if only for one day.
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