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#i think i've watched it like 7 times already
michaelawinter · 3 days
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Andre Nikto head canons
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We have little information about Niko but here's what I've gathered..
((Also I'd like to kindly add, hi, hello, my name is Mika and I am a Bosnian. The chances of me adding some accurate slav head canons are always high but never low!!🙏🏻 ALSO IM TERRIBLY OBSESSED WITH NIKTO SO IF ENJOY THIS AND YOU WANT DATING NIKTO HEAD CANONS PLEASE LET ME KNOWWW))
Genuine head canons:
Andre Nikto (Никто) is a (scary) Russian military man, roughly 193/194 centimetres (when you compare him to Simon's height) He suffers with acute dissociative disorder (better said DID) yet is still serving the military cause of how he preforms during battle.., so the military still views him as a ideal soldier for combat despite his disorder..
No hate but from what I've seen in some art works claiming it's his "face reveal" you people have to understand that under his mask, his face is disfigured.. so, no he won't be an attractive super model under that mask of his..
I don't think you people are aware how badass Nikto is as a character, almost SIMILAR as Ghost who's in the military for the same reason as everybody else, to risk their life.
Although judging by Nikto's voice lines, he doesn't care who he's killing..if it were up to him, if his teammates serve him zero purpose he'd care less if they die..(after all, you're just a target..) but being a professional, he can't allow that to happen to his teammates
If you look up closely, Nikto wears a military uniform that is different from everyone else with MP-0 written on it. Now if you don't know, MP stands for Military Police (enforcement agencies connected with, or part of, the military of a state.) and zero next to it meaning "nothing" and this is important which is what Nikto refers himself as..
Yeah so about that..
I have a theory about Nikto's nickname
After being captured and brutally tortured with whatever sick tendency mister Z had in store for him. It was Mister Z that couldn't really get much Information about Andre.
They would start torturing him while repeating to Andre that he's nothing, he's no one, what he is is nothing but what he is is everything. Those words play in the back of his head and they never seen to go away.
(This is extremely relevant cause Mister Z tried to get to know a bit of Andre by looking through some research come to find his citizenship and language are censored making him a nobody. Keep in mind, if he found any information about Andre viewing from personal life etc. it will be used as blackmail..)
After recovering his scars and taken to therapy after 7 years he was diagnosed with DID
NOW moving on to the DID part
(What I said about the fact that people overlook Nikto's disorder, I mean it..
Some don't really write about his disorder which is fine but when someone does it gets messy. )
Alters aren't easy to deal with, it's actually gonna haunt you till the day that you die cause there's no cure for it. And in Nikto's case it's from PTSD and Nikto is very aware of his alters..
Let me tell you how Nikto's disorder affects him. Switching can be consensual, forced or triggered, Nikto values silence as much as the next person cause he's dealing with much inside his head already. The kind of guy that would "watch TV" while dissociating with a 100 yard glare with very slow blinking and a slight headache..
There are times where his personalities would correct him when hes referring to himself (example: I'm up..(his personality correctes him) WE'RE up..)
"He made us do this" (and other voice lines I can't recall..)
Maybe cut bits of an apple with a knife and eat it while watching TV..
He has medication prescribed for him but he didn't wanna depend on medications cause they're just drugs..they're nothing to him but just drugs..
He has dissociative amnesia too, sometimes he would wander around confused maybe even annoyed. The amnesia appears to be caused by traumatic or stressful experiences endured or witnessed..Although the forgotten information may be inaccessible to consciousness, it sometimes continues to influence behavior
Like I said he likes quiet people, someone who doesn't waste their air on small talk..
Example; don't really talk to him about the weather, unless you have something interesting to say but if the conversation is gonna go nowhere , don't talk..he finds that a waste of time
People assume just because he's Russian that he likes vodka, he doesn't like vodka...-He doesn't like any alcoholic beverage cause it makes his problems a lot worse,...maybe If you were lending him some as an offering, he'll take it but he has SOME self control, he's okay with coffee, though..
It's relevant cause he stays awake at late hours since he finds it difficult to sleep, he'll stay up late with no music, nothing, just a silent room. It doesn't matter if he tries the military tactic where you just close your eyes and turn off your thoughts, it's very different when you have voices screaming inside your head...
Despite everything he's still intelligent, so being smart + strength + sharp reflexes and you got yourself a criminal
Death doesn't phase him, but to him death is like sleeping, he's not scared of death considering that he's been through hell those past few months.
He likes the simple things, don't complicate anything..because he's quick with catching an attitude..be blunt and forward and stumble over your words..
Nikto shows confidence in the battlefield,just like König, except he has a high rush of adrenaline and will laugh at the enemies death.
Fun fact: in this one comic Price calls Nikto "psycho"
And it's without a doubt that he is one.., a sadistic, sociopathic, psychopath
After splitting, his alters can and will get more aggressive and do more harm and damage to others cause they're doing the most at protecting the host.. (depending on the alter, some wanna protect him while some wanna hurt him)
Oh by the way about the intelligence part, I mean he has a good good memory with remembering faces..
He doesn't like people looking at him funny, he'll get angry really fast and annoyed at the same time.., he won't show hesitation when it comes to approaching you and asking you what are you looking at (it's like trying to avoid eye contact with a homeless man Infront of a store, that's how scared you would be)
He's slow with jokes or any form of humor that you throw at him??? You'll be excited to tell him a joke, and when you do he just looks at you and tells you never to do that again..,or just straight up tell you he doesn't get it...??? and probably trying to explain it either he gets it or not he'll still tell you that it's not funny
He doesn't argue, or he does? Arguing with him will costs you avoiding getting objects thrown at you so you can get out of his sight..tragic, now you have a teammate that hates your guts and won't apologize for it.
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katya-goncharov · 4 months
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the new doctor who series is really just one big hate crime for people who don't like change
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wingsyliveblogs · 1 year
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Hello once again, everyone! Thanks for being so patient as I’ve repeatedly failed to pull myself together and return to blogging. But no longer, I say! It’s time for Wingsy Live Blogs to live up to their name and do some liveblogging! 
So, I have some bad news and some good news. The bad news is I’m still not entirely sure I’m in the right mental state for liveblogging, because I’ve been struggling with motivation in general... more or less for the better part of a year now. But the good news is I’m trying to return to being active regardless, because I’m starting to worry that if I wait for the “right time” to start blogging again I’m never going to get back to it, and I really want to watch more Owl House! I want to see what happens next, and I want to meet all those characters I’m vaguely aware of but haven’t yet encountered in the show itself!
So, the remainder of this post will mostly be dedicated to the observations I had when I rewatched Episode 7 several months ago and never got around to posting, and I’m going to skip most of my observations on episodes 5, 12 and 15 for the time being, with one exception that’s going to get a post of its own, because it’s actually the one thing that caused me to put my liveblog of Episode 16 on hold, so I think it’s pretty important. Following this post and the next, I’ll be picking Episode 16 back up where I left off.
Without further ado, my observations from rewatching Episode 7:
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Now that I’ve seen a little bit of these kids’ parents, I’d be willing to bet that the twins picked up this whole "tough love" thing from them - the mother in particular seems very much like the “it’s for your own good” type. That said, I haven’t yet gotten to observe the entire family dynamic, so I can’t be certain at this point.  
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Ah, I forgot about this line. Fun!
The most important thing in this scene, though, was obviously the offhanded mention of Azura’s “goth phase"...spur-of-the-moment lie or the actual truth? And more importantly... foreshadowing or innocuous statement..? 
You know, I do wonder if Luz's little doodle implying she wanted to impress Amity that she drew in Amity's private diary that she absolutely would look at later did anything to endear her to Amity, perhaps leading her to trust Luz was being genuine? 
Actually, now that I’m thinking about that, I’m almost surprised it never got brought up afterwards... or maybe that’s why a drawing of Amity’s ended up in the book that she knew she was going to have to return to Luz..? Hmmm...
Assuming Otabin is a Boiling Isles-only literary figure and that Luz had only just learned he existed, it's really cute that she addresses him as "beloved work of children's fiction" based solely on the knowledge that Amity and a few kids she doesn’t know at all are fond of his story.
Even having rewatched, I’m still unsure how Amity figured out what happened to Otabin?? It's not as if he was targeting Luz from the start - he went after Amity first - so did she just notice what was on the book when seeing him grab Luz, and then maybe assumed that Luz did it or recognised that Luz was in a better position to fix it..? 
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Considering this line, and then Amity's sad look after Otabin vanishes... I wonder if she’s thinking about someone else she's not still friends with. Probably a stretch, but you never know!
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9-1-1 TRAILER!!
WHY DON'T Y'ALL TELL ME THINGS XD
ANYWAY
THEY DID NOT JUST USE "I WILL RESCUE YOU" OR RESCUE OR WHATEVER IT'S ACTUALLY CALLED
ALSO BUDDIE RIGHT AFTER BATHENA??? EXCUSE ME??!?
COME ON GUYS I BELIEVE 😭 (delusional)
ANYWAY IT LOOKS AMAZING
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Yelena hearing Natasha tell her not to spike the engine, looking at Natasha with love and regret and then doing what she has to do.
Natasha seeing Taskmaster approaching fast, looking at Yelena with love and regret and then doing what she has to do.
Natasha, letting go, falling to save Yelena.
Natasha, letting go, falling to save everyone.
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starpros-sunshine · 7 months
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The fact that I'm genuinely considering going to a triple feature in march which will go for six hours just because they're showing the back to the future trilogy and I have never watched those movies and I yearn for stories to tell says something about me I'm sure but I'm not quite sure what. I'm not even sure if I want to know what.
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
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do you believe me now? | 7
in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader sleep together for the first time
series masterlist
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: loss of virginity, oral f/m receiving, so much praise, pain during sex, unprotected sex, cr**mp**, bit of overstim, soft dom spence, if u don't like that freak shit (love and intimacy) this is not for u, spencer is a nerd, they're both nerds actually and that factors in heavily, you may get more from this part by FIRST reading how they met in this bonus chapter a/n: thank you all for being patient, ilysm, this was the most laborious thing i've ever done for no reason and also this part changed so many times and is not what i expected it to be so pls go in with tempered expectations and keep in mind that this story is more about the characters and their specific relationship dynamic than just being porn. i truly have no idea how you guys will react to this but i sincerely hope you love it and them like i do<3 also it's twice as long as the other parts so feedback would be very very appreciated! again i love u all and enjoy the penultimate part!
Spencer’s lips are on yours, and you weren’t expecting it—hell, you weren’t expecting him to be in your apartment. After all, he’d wished you goodnight and walked out only a moment ago.
“Spencer—wh—” 
But he’s insistent with his lips, kissing you bruisingly over and over like there’s nectar on your tongue and he’s parched for you. Still, he has enough decency to not completely ignore you, exhaling a quick excuse over your flushed lips. 
“I missed you.”
This time, though, you dodge his hungry kiss. Part of you thinks, as he watches you, eyes alight and breathing heavily, that he sort of likes your playing hard to get. It’s not something you do very often, admittedly. 
“We’ve been apart for like, maybe a minute.”
“I didn’t even make it to the parking lot.”
Your face heats.  
“Well you can’t just—you can’t just walk in like that! And I thought you said we weren’t supposed to mix fighting with pleasure.”
“Then start locking your door. And I thought you said we weren’t fighting.”
You roll your eyes in response, though your heart is still pittering in your chest. 
At least his hands move to your arms, stroking up and down relatively chastely—although he has this way of making everything seem intimate. Especially when paired with those amber eyes of his—glowing like a candlelight beacon in the window guiding you home. He speaks in low, appeasing tones and darts his tongue over his lips. 
“I originally said it’s a bad idea for couples to sleep together after an argument. But you know—makeup sex is ubiquitous across culture and time because it works. Anger and arousal trigger a lot of the same hormones, specifically norepinephrine which is involved in feelings of longing and—”
“Spencer.”
“You know what else?” He mutters in a way that feels dangerous. “It tends to feel better than regular sex.”
That earns a shaky exhale from you. Whether from irritation or arousal is anyone’s guess—probably a combination of both. 
“So you came back to fuck me?”
It’s probably evident to Spencer from your choice of language that this already isn’t going exactly as he’d planned. He doesn’t answer right away—just regards you, gaze bouncing between your two eyes like he’s trying to calculate your level of anger. 
“Is that what we’re calling it now?”
You push him away and move to walk down the hall. 
“Maybe your window of opportunity has passed.”
A warm hand wraps around your wrist in the dark of the hallway and he pulls you back until you’re falling against something tall and warm and lean. The smell of polished amber and sandalwood overwhelms your senses. 
“What’s wrong, angel? What happened in the minute I was gone to change your mind?” His voice is scratchy like a favorite record. It’s the voice he could hold you captive with. The one you have a very difficult time saying no to. 
“I don’t know,” you mutter, unintentionally leaning back against him. “What happened to change yours?”
His response comes pressed against your ear, half-lost in your hair. 
“You’re upset that I changed my mind. I thought you wanted this, honey.”
“I do,” you admit, letting your head fall back against his shoulder and bringing his arm to wrap around you. “And if you hadn’t walked out earlier I would’ve done it. But… I’m tired of us doing everything on your timeline. You just… you expect me to be amenable to what you want, constantly.” His nose and lips press into your shoulder. 
“What do you mean?”
“Like… I’ve been begging you to sleep with me for I don’t even know how long. And you keep changing your mind, and I feel like you’re being really confusing about it. Obviously you don’t have to sleep with me, you never did, but I just feel kind of… jerked around. And you did it again tonight.”
A beat of silence. 
“I understand your frustration,” he appeases, securing both his arms around you. You cling weakly to his wrist, to his warmth, like he’s a tether in a storm. “Would you prefer to wait until you initiate it?”
“No. Yes! I don’t know,” you huff, disentangling yourself from his arms and continuing toward your bedroom. “Now I’m annoyed at you again.”
He follows you right through the door. 
“Just tell me what to do! I don’t want to be annoying.”
“I can’t. I’m being unreasonable.” You flick on your adjoining bathroom light and examine yourself in the mirror. Yeesh. The eye makeup situation is abysmal after all the crying that has taken place over the course of the evening. 
“So choose to be reasonable and tell me what you want from me. I’ll give it to you.”
You frown at your reflection, pushing your hair back and rubbing at some excess mascara. 
“No, you’re not understanding me. I’m not choosing to be unreasonable. My thought process regarding the situation is inherently unreasonable and there’s nothing I can do about it because it’s just the way I feel.”
“The feeling being that I’ve been too domineering over how our sexual relationship has unfolded?”
Spencer watches you in the bathroom mirror, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed as you tip some makeup remover onto a reusable cotton pad. You try not to check him out as you nod, but it’s impossible—with his sleeves rolled up to show defined forearms cradled in capable hands, and his hair all messy. 
When he pushes off the wall you freeze, unsure of his next move—until he’s gently spinning you around and taking the bottle and cloth from your hands. 
“Maybe it would help,” he begins, soft as he focuses on the new task, carefully bringing the round to your right eye so he can remove the bleeding mascara. You allow your eyes to flutter shut. “If I remind you why I’ve been so hesitant.”
“Because you hate giving me joy.”
He laughs, nothing more than one huff from his nose. 
“You’re spoiled and we both know it.”
Point taken, as he gently wipes your makeup away for you. Your silence is his cue to continue. 
“Everything I said about worrying that you would regret choosing me is true. It was especially true when I thought you felt lukewarm toward me. And all of that confusing stuff I said in the phone is true too—having sex for the first time is incredibly intimate and weird and sometimes scary. If you’re not 100% sure about your partner, or if you think your feelings are unrequited, it’s hard to be completely comfortable in such a vulnerable situation and your likelihood of getting hurt or having regrets skyrockets. I know that from experience. I wanted better for you than what I got. Still, I know it was wrong to project my feelings about the significance of sex onto you. In that regard, you’re right. I was being domineering, and I guess… I guess to an extent I’m still deflecting. I shouldn’t be trying to pretend like it’s about you when in reality I mostly just didn’t want to get hurt again. I didn’t want to go through that again, and that’s okay, but I shouldn’t have made you feel like it was something you could have changed.”
You try to process that. 
“Go through what?” You whisper hoarsely. Something about having him at such close range while he takes such care with you feels whisper-y. 
“Sleeping with someone who didn’t love me back.”
Your reply is small. 
“Oh. Right.”
How could anyone not love him back?
Spencer’s reply is simple and kind, without a hint of, obviously you dumb bitch—which is pretty much what you’re thinking to yourself. 
“Does that make sense, lovely? Do you understand why I wanted to wait?”
He lets you ponder for a while in comfortable-enough silence as he finishes removing your eye makeup with a characteristically gentle hand. When you open your eyes, he looks genuinely content, screwing the lid back on the bottle as if he’s got an eternity to wait for your answer. 
“Yeah. That part makes sense. But why did you seem so… I don’t know, like, wishy-washy about it?”
Spencer’s eyes dart up to meet yours, brows slightly raised. Then a small laugh bubbles up from somewhere inside him. 
“Because I’m obsessed with you. I thought about you like that constantly. I still do.”
Your breath catches at the casual admission. 
“Oh.”
Spencer hums, setting the bottle down before tenderly thumbing away some excess mascara that he must have missed from under your eye. 
“You didn’t think it was easy for me, did you?”
“Well… kind of,” you admit, tracking his eyes until they meet yours. 
“Not sleeping with you has been among the hardest things I’ve ever done. Especially when you started begging me. That first time, when I picked you up from Penelope’s and you asked me why we hadn’t had sex yet…”
He trails off, still rubbing at your cheek as he loses himself in thought. 
Eventually, you grow impatient, prompting, “what?”
“It’s not a nice thought.”
“Well, you have to tell me now,” you insist. 
He half smiles, thumb straying to your lips. 
“It was just… you had no idea what you were talking about, and you were ready to throw a tantrum in my living room until I gave you what you thought you wanted. Part of me was imagining bending you over the couch right then, since you thought you were so ready.”
It feels like someone has snipped the pulley that keeps your stomach in place. 
“Spencer,” you splutter, convinced your cheek is tangibly heating under his touch as your head reels at the revelation that he could have such a deeply dirty and mildly sinister mind. 
“I told you it wasn’t nice.”
You swallow. 
“Is that… is that still what you want?”
His brows flicker again and he tucks hair behind your ear. 
“To bend you over my couch? No.”
Your face warms even more and you turn to leave the bathroom, sick of his teasing. 
“Okay, goodni—”
“Hold on.” Spencer catches you by your waist and pulls you back into him for the second time tonight. A dangerous smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. “I know what you meant. And no, I don’t want to bend you over my couch.” He laughs, slipping a hand under your shirt to rub your back. “You know what I want. I’m more interested in learning what you want.”
“I want…” Your eyes dance between his, and your heart flutters against the confines of your chest as you realize what you’ve wanted for so long is finally yours for the taking. “I want to stop talking about it.”
His expression neutralizes and you know it’s probably intentional to stop whatever feelings you assume him to be having color your decision. 
“Oh?”
“I just think we’ve talked about it enough.”
Before he can say another word, or ask you another question, you kiss him with such passion there’s no way he can doubt how much you want this. 
Only a moment passes before he allows himself to lean into it, cupping your face between reverent hands and taking control of the pace of the kiss, slowing it down until you can hardly breathe. Your little noise of want has him quickening the process, pressing against you until you’re walking backward out of the bathroom. It’s like the first crack in a dam. After that, everything becomes inevitable. 
Your knees hit the back of the bed and you sit down hard on the mattress, smiling up at him. You skim the front of his thighs with your palms as he smooths your hair.
Spencer groans, leaning down and kissing you til you’re on your back. 
“Don’t make that face.”
An affronted huff from you breaks the kiss up and he pulls back to study your expression. 
“What do you mean don’t make that face? I was just smiling at you.”
“I know you were. And you have such a pretty smile it makes me feel guilty about… defiling you.”
Your brows flicker up and your mouth drops open with an affronted scoff.
“Watch yourself. I’ll defile you.”
“You already have,” he admits with a half-laugh as he kisses you again. “My mind was never this dirty before we met.”
“Hm. Tell me you like my smile.”
He pauses and then chuckles dryly against your mouth. 
“I love your smile. You’re gorgeous. Any more demands?”
Pleased, you shake your head and pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist. 
“Not currently.”
“Really?” he murmurs, trailing kisses over your cheek and down your jaw, “I’d do just about anything you asked me right now. You don’t want to take advantage of that?”
The sensation of his lips just below your ear threatens all rational thought in your brain, but you manage a reply with only a slight delay and a hint of a waver coloring your tone. 
“I shouldn’t have to demand things. You should just know to do them.”
His kisses drag lower, warm and unhurried and you’re trying not to let your hyper-sensitivity from going a week completely untouched show—but you doubt he misses the way your breath catches, or the barely audible squeaks, or the arch of your back or the tightening grip on his shirt. 
“Well, for future reference—” he nips at a sensitive spot and you gasp quietly, even as you tilt your head to offer him more access. More room to bite, if he so chooses. “—I happen to enjoy it when you make demands of me. Especially when those demands entail letting me call you pretty.”
“I’ve never not let you call me pretty before,” you huff. It’s a touchy subject, and Spencer can probably sense your hackles rising, but he has you right where he wants you and so he pushes anyway. 
“No. But you never believe me. We’ve had this conversation. You always act like I’m walking you to the gallows when I compliment you.” 
It’s hard to make a defense when he’s leaning his weight onto one arm so he can unbutton your jeans, when he’s looking down at you with sparkling onyx and scorched-earth eyes like you’re something to be consumed. But not violently, no—ardently. Like fruit heavy on the vine. Like you’re a religious rite to the devout and deluded. A sacrament.
But it’s not a blind passion. Spencer knows you; every inch of you and every loose thread on your soul begging to be pulled. He knows you and he still wants you like this. To be perfectly honest, you’d never thought you’d feel comfortable handing yourself over to someone like this—vulnerable and all your layers of armor shed. Never in your life would you have thought you could trust a person so implicitly that you’d hand them a knife and show them exactly where to press, that you’d say, I know once you open me and you see me you’ll not want to change a thing.
You adore him. Cosmically. Enormously. In every dimension. He’s lodged so deep in your heart you have no choice but to love him eternally. 
It’s deep in the midst of all these very profound revelations that you realize Spencer has stalled with your zipper undone. His hand has strayed to your hip, to sweetly push your shirt up and trace love letters into warmed and downy skin with his thumb. 
“I just wish you could see yourself how I see you,” he says softly, the weight of the truth a strain on his vocal cords. 
Sometimes, he is so kind it’s like a punch to your stomach. You’ve never been quite as kind as him. And nobody’s ever been as kind to you as he is. You’ve done nothing to deserve his kindness, but you know he needs a place for it, and you’re here with open arms. 
He studies you a moment longer, swallowing as his eyes trail over your face and lower. You want to reach out and brush strands of caramel hair out of his face, but he seems to be thinking so hard you’re hesitant to distract him. 
“I’ve never told you this, because I know you’d just shoot it down, but… you are genuinely the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met in my life.”
Something twinges in the depths of your stomach—the darker shades who live there and exist solely to whisper not enough not enough not enough to you every minute of every day. 
But they’re simply not a match for the softness you find when you do reach out for his hair, or the way he looks at you. Spencer loosely wraps his fingers around your wrist—not a cuff, but an affectionate hold. 
“Do you believe me?”
There’s so much earnest hope in his voice it almost jars you. He so badly wants you to understand how feels about you—he’s been trying to tell you for months and all you know how to do is refute his praise and insist on your worthlessness. 
Ever since Spencer, you don’t see the faces on magazine covers or in superhero movies, no matter how mathematically flawless they are. Nobody gets close to being as beautiful as he is in your eyes. He’s in an entirely different echelon, and despite how you feel about yourself, you have to accept that he might feel the same about you. 
“I do,” you say, equally soft, and 100% honest. You believe that he believes it, and that’s enough. It’s all that matters. 
The shallow knit of his brow loosens. His lips ease into a suggestion of a smile. But it’s most visible in his eyes—the way smoldering coals reignite, melting the amber glass of his irises until they’re molten. 
The way he kisses you then, you’d think you’d lassoed the moon and pulled it down from the sky for him. But apparently all it takes to make him incandescently, contagiously happy, is to accept a compliment.
There’s a renewed sense of urgency on his breath as he kisses you deeply and quick enough your heart is racing. It only goes faster when he remembers his previous task and begins tugging your jeans down, but he doesn’t even bother to pull them past your knees before his hand is creeping up your thigh. Goosebumps race each other across your body as you try to remember what it feels like—what he feels like. But you can’t, even as his thumb fans over your inner thigh and pushes it open, gently encouraging you to give him more access to you. 
“You’re not wasting any time,” you breathe against him while he traces the edge of your underwear.
“Do you want me to slow down?”
Judging by the way the tips of his fingers only barely shy away from the fabric, he really wants the answer to be no. But you know in his searching gaze that he’d never push you. 
“No, it’s fine. As long as we… don’t go this fast the whole time.”
“We won’t.” The hasty words are of lower priority than the next kiss he plants to your swollen lips. “We won’t. I just missed you so much.”
“Yeah?” You giggle airily as he drags his fingers over your clit through the material, trying to ignore the way it makes your head spin. 
“Yes. Yeah.”
You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this, so… desperate for you, as he drops his lips to your neck and presses barely-there kisses everywhere he knows you’re sensitive. Just the feeling of his breath against your skin has you shivering. His hand between your legs only brushes your most nerve-dense spot, but a few touches in and you’re already wound up, like if Spencer doesn’t give you more soon you’ll burst. And not in the good way. 
When he finally commits to actually kissing your neck, you squeak, warmth emanating from that spot just below your jaw all the way to your toes. The frantic energy of earlier is slowly melting away, and he loses focus with his hand, as it begins straying wider, stroking your hip, your inner thigh, your stomach. It’s like your nerve endings are on overdrive, delivering twice as much feedback to your brain as they normally would. Each touch feels like he’s conducting electricity over your body, like you’re a plasma ball. He’d probably like that analogy—you, a core of alternating voltage, and him, the conductor, tracing a path and giving all those electrons an easy release. If you weren’t so distracted, you’d tell Spencer you found a way to work Nikola Tesla into your mutual sex life, and he’d probably propose on the spot. 
But that electricity is building fast—even more so when he drags his lips down just above your collarbone. Your breath hitches, simultaneously trying to crane your neck to give him more room, and curl into him so as to escape the stimulation. Finally he pulls away, and losing the softness of his mouth while the air feels so cold against the places he’d kissed almost hurts. 
“You’re a mess,” he chuckles affectionately, raising his hand to brush hair away from your face before stroking the heated high point of your cheek. “What am I going to do with you?”
It’s teasing, but so low and gentle and honeyed it swirls your stomach. 
“Whatever you want,” you admit quietly. It’s a shy confession more than it is a salacious flirtation because he already has you. And you want nothing more than for him to act on that in any way he so pleases. Whatever he does, it will be careful, and kind, and because he loves you. You know that no matter how he takes you apart—he’ll put you back together again. 
“I don’t know if I can. You’re all jumpy.”
God, he has the prettiest smile—even when it’s twisted with sarcasm and a thin veneer of guilt, like he knows he shouldn’t be teasing and just can’t help himself. 
“I’m not,” you defend, face heating further. “I’m not nervous. I don’t know what it is.”
That sticky sweet tone is back, pooling in his eyes and dripping all over you like nectar as he languidly looks you over. 
“I didn’t say you were nervous. Just a little bit jumpy.”
It’s not accusatory—he’s simply stating a fact. Easy, gentle, designed to soothe. 
You shrug helplessly and chew on your lip, unsure of how he wants you to respond. It’s definitely true that excited as you are, you’re slightly on edge. You feel taut as a string on a guitar, tense and waiting to be yanked at any second. 
His expression is serene, and his thoughts inscrutable as he continues lavishing you with his eyes, down to where he’s lying over you and back up. His lips part, but he doesn’t speak for a moment as he formulates his words. 
“Can we try something? There’s this tantric exercise that might help you relax.”
Your brows draw earnestly and you nod up at him, not requiring any convincing even though you have no idea what he’s talking about. 
Spencer directs you to sit up, and you do—kicking your jeans all the way off so you can sit criss-cross with your hands braced on your ankles. 
He’s next to you on the bed, at a slight angle, one of your knees in his lap. You blink at him. 
“Now what?”
“Now you give me one of your hands,” he says, tone tinted with a hint of an amused smile, as if your impatience is funny to him. Of course it probably is. 
Frowning only a little, you unlock your left arm and hold it out for him, watching curiously as he takes your one hand between his and flips it palm-up. 
“Did you know,” Spencer begins, voice low and confidential, “that the fingertips are the second most sensitive part of the human body?”
“What’s the first?”
“Lips,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on your hand where he’s brushing the tips of your fingers light enough it almost tickles. “They’re both incredibly important for keeping you alive, which is why they’re one and two. But you’ll be particularly sensitive anywhere you’re vulnerable.” His words are trailing off as he brushes his thumb over your palm and to the delicate skin of your wrist. “Like here.”
His knuckles skim up your forearm, to the crook of your elbow. 
“And especially here.”
You’re fascinated as he traces back down the length of your arm and over your inner-wrist, feather light. Then up once more, with the blunted edges of his nails, and your breath catches. You’ve never noticed how sensitive such an innocuous part of your body could be, but it has your stomach flipping—more so when he looses a breathy laugh. “You know, some people are actually able to reach orgasm just by light stimulation to this area.”
Your response is just as airy—you don’t recognize your voice when it comes out like that, hanging in the pitch black between you. 
“Really?” 
An affirmative hum from him, as he lifts your hand and places an intentional kiss over your pulse at the bend of your wrist. Your chest aches and heat is pooling in your stomach as his gently trails them up the delicate skin of your arm. Maybe you should be embarrassed by the reaction you’re having—after all, it’s just your arm. But he treats every part of you like it warrants love and attention and intimacy. Even the parts you typically ignore. Certainly parts you never considered to be sexually or romantically relevant. It’s dizzying. It’s like magic. 
“Arms up,” Spencer finally directs, just as sweetly as he’s doing everything else, and helps you tug your shirt over your head. Every brush of fabric, every seam against your skin registers more than it normally would. Everything is heightened, and despite your state of undress you’re still warm. “Your neck is really sensitive, too. It’s the most commonly acknowledged erogenous zone.”
Erogenous zone. Of course this all comes back to biology. 
“Tilt your head for me, honey.”
Utterly entranced and useless to not abide by him, you do so. Spencer brushes your hair over your shoulder, and if the slip of it down your back weren’t enough, the graze of his fingertips against the nape of your neck has you shivering. 
The warmth of him at your throat feels completely brand new, despite having already had his lips there only minutes before. But now they ghost over your skin with a kind of novelty, and your own lips part in silent pleasure, head lolling to allow him greater access.
“Lie back.”
Without hesitation (but perhaps a bit sluggishly in your stupor) you obey, sliding down until you’re propped up only by pillows once more. Spencer takes his place propped above you once more, thighs slotted with yours as he quickly picks up where he left off. 
The sweet kisses are perfect and feel so much better than you’d ever thought to notice before—but at the same time your core aches and there’s that pressure building again that’s starting to get to you. 
“Spencer,” you try, and it comes out hoarse but you don’t care at all. “More.”
“You want me to leave marks?” 
And the offer is so tempting you’ll wait a few more minutes to ask for what you really need, nodding semi-frantically and ‘mhm’-ing desperately. 
As he gently latches onto a spot that will require concealer later but feels fantastic for now, one of his hands slips down your side, just barely letting his nails skim, and your back actually arches. It’s a shocking amount of stimulation for being nowhere near any sexual hotspots. That tiny caught breath dissolves as his fingers continue down just as lightly over your hip and thigh. Your muscles tense as you chase and run away from the feeling. It’s ridiculous.
There’s no point in trying to keep your eyes open now—they grow heavy and you let them fall shut as he sucks another love bite to your throat. 
“Feels good, doesn’t it? It’s kind of weird.” He says, voicing your thoughts as he eventually decides the mark will be sufficiently dark. 
“Yeah,” you agree, lacking all eloquence as he caresses every sensitive place you didn’t know you had and your hips writhe minutely in a little desperate dance of your own creation. 
“Most people aren’t aware of the potential of the erogenous zones that aren’t actual sex organs. They don’t pay attention to them. You know what else is an interesting function of erotic stimulation to areas that aren’t directly involved in reproduction?”
“Hm,” you hum as his hand skims to your back. You lean into it and he promptly undoes your bra with a single hand—a skill you’re not even sure you have. 
“It releases not quite as much oxytocin as an orgasm but more than sexual pleasure alone. So you’re less tense before sex than you usually would be, and you’re primed to build more trust and feel more connected with your partner during.”
God, he’s a nerd. And it’s so, so hot. 
You roll over on your back again and look up at him through half-lidded eyes. The corner of his mouth flickers as he takes in your expression, before trailing downward, following the path his fingertips make over your skin as they tug the straps over your shoulders. Trying to stop him, to be shy, would be a pointless venture. He’s seen you like this and you want him to see you again. 
A shaky exhale of his own brings a little smile to your face as he pulls your bra away and observes the newly bared skin with a hunger that you can feel. 
“I missed you,” he murmurs, eyes cast pointedly down and thumb brushing over the side of your right breast. 
“You mentioned.”
“I’m not allowed to say it again?” He teases, leaning down to kiss you soft. Your lips curve against his. 
“You can say it as many times as you want.”
Spencer hums, finally thumbing over your breast’s sensitive peak. It sends a chill down your back and seeing as you’re already worked up to the point of near insanity, the pleasure from such a simple touch is much stronger than it would be otherwise. 
“Good. Because I missed you a lot.”
After that, he doesn’t waste much time—only toying with your flesh for another minute as he kisses you before his hand is skimming down your abdomen and dipping below the waistband of your underwear. 
“Please,” you whisper, tilting your hips toward him when he doesn’t move to touch you anymore. 
“Please what?”
“Spencer, don’t.”
He smiles at this, pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth as his hand travels lower. Fingers slip between wet folds and he begins making the lightest of circles over your clit. 
“You’ve probably been waiting long enough, huh? I should be nicer.”
Your answer is a breathy almost-whine as you seek more friction against his hand. 
“Yeah.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, pressing down harder. The sensation sends sparks down to your toes and you attempt to clamp your legs shut around his wrist. “These need to stay open,” Spencer chuckles, “or else I can’t help you.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” The words are a sweet sing-song against your cheek as he kisses you there, before hooking his fingers into the fabric of your underwear and pulling down. You try to help wiggle out of them as best you can, gasping when he tosses them away and immediately returns his hand between your legs. He dips his head down, tongue lathing over your breast, and teases you with the tip of one finger circling around your entrance. 
“I need—”
“Shh. Let me worry about it.”
With that, he’s dipping his ring and middle fingers just barely inside of you to the first knuckle, then back out, before pushing a bit deeper, and repeating the cycle until they’re as far as they’ll go. When he slowly starts fucking you with them, still mouthing sweetly at your breast, you’re ready to melt. 
The room is quiet except for your breathy mewls, the lewd, wet sound of his fingers inside of you, and the blood rushing in your ears. Soon your breast pops from between his lips and he finds somewhere else to leave his mark. Spencer is turning you into a work of art, with his fingers, with his mouth. You don’t mind at all. You’d let him sign his name, if he could—but you doubt he’d let you get his name tattooed. 
Soon you stop fighting the perpetual tug of your lids down and let them flutter shut, loosing a freer moan as he brushes over that sweet spot inside you. Even when he’d told you how to find it over the phone, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t like this—maddening enough to have your hips twisting again and that hot bed of coals in your tummy sparking. 
“Spencer,” you warn, leg twitching as he stokes the fire beyond the point where you can passively enjoy it. Either he’s got to slow down or he’s got to let you burn all the way up. You practically jump when you feel his tongue flick over your clit—you hadn’t even been aware of his shifting positions. Maybe you’re more out of it than you’d previously thought. Your eyes shoot open and he does it again. “Oh, fuck.”
The words are simple, quiet, and apparently that’s not enough. Before you can even process the sensation of the tip of his tongue on you he’s latching onto your clit, suckling in a way that has your vision momentarily going out. You cry out and kick involuntarily, hips jumping up, but he captures your leg and presses you down into the mattress so no matter how much you squirm and squeak you can’t get away. 
“Fuckfuckfuck, Spencer I wa—ah—sn’t ready—oh my god.”
He remembers his fingers deep inside you and begins rutting them and you hiss, inhaling sharply through your teeth before letting it all out in a tremulous moan. The orgasm is building up so quickly it almost feels like an attack on your poor body as you try to process it all to no avail. Every sound you make is a vulnerable mess of pleasure and pain, a clear fear of surrendering to something inevitable. Of course, it doesn’t really hurt at all. As usual, he’s blindsided you. Found you unprepared. You rake your fingers through Spencer’s hair, continuing on with your shaky moans that sound half-worried. 
“Oh, please.” Really, you’re just pleading to be put out of your misery. It’s in moments like this, as the black is creeping in around the edges of your vision and your thoughts become threads in the tangle of an existence knotting in on itself with no discernible end or beginning in your mind until everything is completely abstract, that you’re reminded why the French refer to orgasm as the little death.  
Your fingers lace tight enough in the wilds of his hair to pull, and he groans against you, and those vibrations are your undoing. You succumb to the dark momentarily but he continues a loving assault of gentle kisses to your clit—careful enough so as to be inoffensive even after the euphoria abates and you’re hypersensitive, still relishing soft strands of hair between your knuckles. 
You’re breathing hard as you blink your vision back, looking down at him as he looks up at you from his place between your legs and rubs the top of your thigh.
“I wasn’t ready,” you pant, lips flashing into a tired smile that doesn’t hold a candle to his own livelier one. 
“Took it like a champ.”
If you weren’t already so warm his sarcastic comment would inspire more heat in the apples of your cheeks. 
“Dr. Spencer Reid using sports idioms?” You smile as he climbs back up your body. 
“It’s unreasonably sexy that you said idiom and not simile.” He kisses you, grin mirroring yours, and you don’t complain about the slick still on his lips. “And look at that. Not afraid to kiss me when I taste like you anymore.”
“I remember what you said,” you whisper, eyes bouncing between his, glowing amber pools in the low light. The words echo in your head from the first time he’d gone down on you and you’d been hesitant to taste yourself. 
One day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.
“So do I,” he points out needlessly. “Eerily prophetic, hm?”
“I think you just like going down on me,” you laugh. 
Without the light on, his smile is just as brilliant as usual.  
“You might be right about that.”
Another interlude of quiet begins, but you don’t mind it. Taking this slow, as desperate as you’ve been for it, feels nice. Easy. Waves of burning need ebb and flow, but for now, it feels nice to be bathed in his candlelight gaze, know you’re loved, and nothing else. 
“What next?” You whisper after a long moment, lifting your hand to trace the line of his jaw. He leans into it slightly, lips brushing your palm. 
“That’s up to you, angel. What’s going to make you feel most comfortable?” 
Your bottom lip rolls between your teeth as you think and he tracks the movement, corner of his mouth twitching fondly. 
“It might help if you weren’t fully clothed.”
“I think we could probably do something about that.”
He pecks the tip of your nose playfully and then he’s pushing off the bed. Your brow wrinkles as you follow suit only partially, sitting up with your legs folded under you and pulling the sheets over your body to combat the chill and the vulnerability of being completely naked. 
“Oh, my god. You had your shoes on that whole time?”
“I got distracted,” Spencer defends, almost tripping over himself in his hurry to slip the loafers off. 
You clutch the sheet to your chest, watching the adorable way he pushes his hair out of his face as he rushes. He’s so clearly excited—it shows in the flush of his cheek and his even worse than usual coordination. 
“But on my bed?”
“I’m sorry,” he says without seeming very apologetic, leaning down to catch your chin between his thumb and forefinger and pressing his lips to yours. “I’ll pay to have your comforter dry cleaned. I’ll buy you a new one. I don’t care.”
“How chivalrous.”
“I am,” he insists against your lips, shaped by what is surely a boyish smirk. 
Unsurprisingly, you get lost in the kiss, dropping the sheet to hang onto his shoulders. Spencer takes advantage of the once-more revealed skin, rubbing your thigh with slow passes in a way that has you all lit up again already. It doesn’t help that his tie is skimming right over the recess between your folded thighs as he leans over your seated form, kissing you deeper as the moments pass. 
“You’re distracting me now,” you scold, but your voice is quiet and smiley as your noses brush. 
“Do you want to help me with my clothes?”
You nod, heart hatching like a cocoon and already slipping a finger into the knot of his tie so you can tug perhaps not gently enough. He chuckles, bracing himself with his fists on either side of your lap as you pull and yank until the fabric comes loose and you slip it from around his neck, flinging it blindly for dramatic effect. Then he slowly draws back to his full height, until you’re about eye-level with his chest. His gaze fixes on you, feverish and intent as he finds the buckle of his belt without looking. The slide of leather on leather, the jingle of the metal has the hairs on the back of your neck rising and you fight a chill as he pins you with his stare—feeling rather powerless as he towers over you, still essentially fully clothed while you’re completely naked. 
You probably shouldn’t be as thrilled by it as you are. 
Spencer tosses the belt on the floor and watches on, utterly charmed as you rise to your knees. His hands find your waist, steadying you as you begin unbuttoning his shirt with slow, careful fingers. 
“See?” You murmur bashfully. “Helping.”
His voice is equally as soft. 
“Very helpful. Thank you.”
The tension in the quiet room gets to be too much and you have to focus hard on the task at hand, failing to bite back a twisty smile. For once, he keeps his stupid perfect mouth shut and lets you push the fabric of his open shirt from his shoulders in humid silence. 
Your fingers skate down his torso and you watch the muscles tense. You wonder if he notices the way he pulls you slightly closer or if it’s subconscious as you both track the path of your hands. 
“Your button is on the wrong side,” you note, voice wavering slightly, once your fingers stall at the waistband of his pants.
Spencer chuckles. You feel silly. 
“Men and women’s clothing tend to have the buttons on different sides, if that’s what you mean.”
“Oh.” A beat of silence, before the words come pouring out. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I’m still a little bit nervous, I think.”
“That’s okay,” Spencer assures you, hands gliding up and down the soft lines of your waist. “It’s okay that you’re nervous. But I’m going to take really good care of you, okay?”
You nod, not looking away from the exposed skin of his torso. 
“And if at any point you need to take a break or stop, you’ll tell me.”
“I will, but… I don’t need to stop right now.”
“Then you can go as slow as you want.”
You swallow and take a moment to gather yourself before continuing on undoing his pants. With his assistance, you pull them down, and with them his boxers tug an inch or two lower, exposing a subtle v-shape before it disappears beneath the waistband. The fabric is obviously tented. A ball of nervous anticipation spins faster in your stomach, drawing all the heat in your body down between your legs. He’s pretty everywhere. You’d nearly forgotten. 
Spencer’s stomach tenses under your light touch as you drag your fingers down, down, just to the waistband. It’s then that you look up at him for permission to continue, and find his eyes already on you, heated and intense. 
“Go ahead, honey.”
Again you find yourself quite excited to touch him, but you start cautiously, simply letting your hand fall over the shape of him through the fabric. Even that has his chest rising and falling at a slightly quickened rate, and one of his hands finds your unoccupied one, twining them together. That small gesture inspires you to bolden your explorations, becoming more insistent in the way you palm at him. He feels big, which is a concern of yours. But you try not to let that intimidate you.  
Already he’s quite hard, you suspect from going down on you earlier (which is flattering as much as it embarrasses you) and your fingers graze a small wet patch of fabric. You fixate on the shaky little breath he releases as you push down his boxers with new fervor, and his cock springs up. 
He’s still perfect. 
You smear beads of precum down his tip, and he sighs, letting his head fall against yours as you both watch. A few coquettish pumps and he’s humming, kissing your face and dragging his lips down your neck where he makes a home for himself. Apparently the sight of your hand wrapped around him had been too much to bear. 
“So good. Missed this.”
“It’s just my hand,” you whisper, a little insecure that he’s maybe playing it up for your benefit. 
“It’s you.”
His voice is so breathy, you sort of have to believe him. 
“Can I…?”
Too nervous to voice what you really mean, you trail off, but it apparently doesn’t matter to Spencer. He lifts his head like he’s in a stupor but you’ve said something urgent. 
“Anything you want. You can do whatever you want.”
“Okay. Um…”
You let go of his hand (and his dick). Spencer automatically rotates to accommodate you as you end up on your knees on the wooden floor in front of him. 
“This is what you want?” He breathes, already pushing his fingers through your hair and gathering it back as you look up at him and nod. 
Very quickly you have him back in your hand, trying to remember what you learned from the few times you’ve done this. You start perhaps a bit softer, less eager to prove yourself than you have in the past—simply dragging him over your tongue before enveloping his tip in your mouth, and releasing with a pop. Despite being overtly, explicitly, and undeniably sexual, there’s something almost chaste about the way you handle him. It’s a (dirty) expression of love, and you think he understands that as he rubs at your cheek affectionately. 
Eventually, however, you get too excited, and you take him into your mouth in earnest, bobbing your head slowly and seeing how much of him you can take without gagging. 
Spencer makes the prettiest noises—they’re breathy, and not ostentatious, but he’s got such a nice speaking voice it’s like his gasps are bars in a song. You whine around him, wriggling your hips in a rather pathetic display, and then all too quickly he’s tugging your hair so you can’t keep him in your mouth. 
“What?” You ask, closer to pouting than you’d care to admit and voice slightly hoarse. “You said I could do anything I want.”
“Not if you’re that good at it. Come here.”
He helps you up and catches you in a deep, messy kiss before you’ve fully regained your footing, swaying against him, but he holds you fast, pulling away slow like strings of honey trail between your mouths. 
Spencer’s eyes are fixed on yours, lips parted in a sort of wonder before he glances down to your own mouth, wiping the shine from your bottom lip. Any moment you’re expecting him to say something, to tell you you’re beautiful or perfect or that he’s in love with you—but instead he just meets your eyes again, that same wonder-struck look on his pretty face. A tiny, breathy laugh forces itself from his chest like you’re a genuine miracle. 
You feel so observed—seen in a way you’ve never been seen, looked at closer than anyone has ever looked at you before. And he still looks at you like you’re the human embodiment of love, the closest mortal manifestation of the divine, Galatea come down from her marble pedestal. The way he looks at you has your heart pounding and your breathing hastened. Adoration has never been something so physical, so tangible, ever before in your life. Your blood hums at the frequency of his electromagnetic field—an energetic aura that surrounds each person and can be detected from several feet away, as he’d explained it to you. It originates from the heart and if you spend enough time close to  someone, syncs up the beating of your most vital organ with theirs until it’s a perfect match. Maybe that’s why, almost as quickly as your heart had begun to pound, it slows again, and you feel any reservation flush from your body like a fever. 
“Okay,” you breathe, cataloguing every angle and curve of his face to store with all the rest, all the moments that feel important. Of course, you’ll never remember them like he does yours. But you’ll be damned if you don’t try your hardest. 
“Okay?” Spencer asks. He understands the confirmation for what it is, and searches for signs of hesitation on your face while rubbing reassuring circles into your hip. You nod resolutely. 
As he lays you down on your bed, it feels like you’re entering some kind of altered state. Everything is muted and glowing with a watercolor aura in the dark and you really only care about the man on top of you and the way moonlight dances on his skin and the way he smells like smoky amber and rain. He makes sure the pillows are fluffed under you, before sweeping your hair from beneath your shoulders into a corona around your head. All the while his eyes are so soft on you, just like his hands, and his lips when he leans down to touch them to yours. 
One of said hands finds its way to your jaw, trailing down over your neck and collarbone, before settling over your breast where he swipes a thumb over your nipple, lightly, slowly, several times. 
Once again you’re struck with the odd feeling, even with his hand on you like this, that the situation isn’t sexual in the way you’d anticipated. It’s not pornographic, or even very dirty. Everything Spencer does, even as his hand sneaks down between your legs, he does because he loves you. 
“One more like this,” he mutters against your jaw after a moment. 
“Why?”
Your impatience yields a smile you can only feel against your skin. 
“Just want you relaxed and feeling good. That’s all.”
When you assent, his fingers are already slowly pushing inside you. 
It seems you’ve entered some sort of time warp as well, because you reach a gentle peak in what feels like record time, aided by his easy murmurings and saccharine praise.
“Perfect. That was perfect,” Spencer says with a kiss to your shoulder as he slides his fingers from you and you feel yourself literally dripping onto the sheets. “Can I ask you something before we get carried away?”
“Mhm,” you hum, sweet and compliant as pleasure dulls your inhibitions for the second time tonight and your head lolls into the pillows. 
“Baby,” he croons, voice soft as worn paper as your lids flutter and lashes brush febrile cheeks, thumbing over the heated skin. “Need you a little more alert, sweet girl.”
“’M trying,” you whine, though it’s half self-effacing laugh. Spencer chuckles too as you shake your head and take a deep breath, trying to reinvigorate yourself. “Okay. Go.”
“Well… we don’t have any protection.” Before you can groan, loudly, he hurries on. “And that’s… I’m okay with that, if it’s what you still want. I trust you. But there will come… a moment of reckoning. And I need to know where I should… reckon. So you don’t end up surprised.”
Now you’re really laughing—a giggly mess beneath him as your arms loop over his shoulders. 
“Stop it,” he whines, pressing his nose to your cheek as you turn your head in an effort to not snort at your boyfriend to his face. “That was for your benefit, you know. You get squeamish.”
“I’m sorry, I just can’t take you seriously when you refer to it as reckoning.”
“Fine. I’ll rephrase. When I come, you essentially have two options. Inside, or on your stomach. Tell me where you want it.”
Your breath catches and your stomach does that tripping-over-itself thing again. 
“Um…”
Another fond half laugh, at your expense, is pressed against your skin. It’s enough to prompt you into answering—he doesn’t have to say anything to make his point about your being squeamish. 
“Inside,” you mutter, shy as you attempt to bring him closer so he won’t be able to look at you quite so closely. You wonder if he’s remembering the conversation you’d had over the phone last week—before he’d accidentally kind of broken up with you—about this very subject. You certainly are. 
“Okay. I want you to have everything that you want.” A few kisses to your neck later, between nips, he speaks again. “Just need to hear that you want this one more time.”
“I want this,” you repeat, obedient and honest, plain and simple. “Now, please.”
Spencer responds by first kissing you, firm and loving. It soothes you, and he punctuates it with a kiss to your cheek, before he’s reaching down and guiding himself between your legs. You feel surprisingly calm, more overcome with love and the light pleasure rolling down your back as he drags himself over your clit than you are by nerves. Still, you pointedly hold his gaze, not looking down in case you psych yourself out. He slots himself in place, tip resting against your entrance. 
“Remember, if you need to stop at any point—”
“I remember,” you cut him off hurriedly. 
Okay. So perhaps you’re still slightly nervous. 
He watches you, sympathetic though you’re not sure what for. 
“I need you as relaxed as possible, okay? I want this to be easy on you.”
You take a moment, scanning your whole body for tense muscles. When you feel sufficiently relaxed, you offer Spencer a small nod, and at that, he begins pushing into you ever so slightly. 
At first, it just feels foreign. He’s going so slowly, so carefully, you’re not sure he’s moving at all—until he finds resistance and the odd full feeling changes to a hint of burning stretch. Your hips jump and your breath catches, and Spencer stops immediately, relieving the pressure with a tiny shift in position. 
“It’s gonna hurt,” you realize, eyes darting between his like he might be able to tell you otherwise. You’d always been aware of the possibility, but you were holding out hope that you’d be one of those people who didn’t experience any pain their first time. 
“Just for a minute. Then it’ll feel good, angel.”
You swallow and nod. At the end of the day, you trust him completely. You trust him enough to let him hurt you. 
“Super deep breaths for me.”
He watches intently as you follow his directions, taking several deep breaths in succession, before he begins pushing into you once more. The pressure builds and builds until he pushes past that point of resistance, and it’s like he’s breaking you in two. 
“Ah,” you gasp, abs twisting as your body tries to escape the sensation without any input from you. 
“I know. I know, baby, that was the hardest part. Breathe.”
He drops his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles with light pressure to distract from the pain.
You nod, lips pressed together tight as the deep ache muddles your brain. It’s an insistent pressure against something does not seem to want to budge. It burns and stretches and is laced with sour, flirtatious pleasure so that you can hardly tell what it is you’re feeling. Mostly, you’re dizzy and hot.
“Relax, just like that,” he strains, looking down. “My good girl. We’re almost there, baby.”
Cries spill unbidden from your mouth and your eyes shut as he continues to open you up deeper, until finally, finally, his hips settle into the cradle of yours. 
Spencer sighs a curse under his breath, so quiet you don’t think it was meant for you. 
He’s inside of you. It’s bizarre. 
You whimper, and he snaps out of whatever revery he’d been in. 
“You okay? How does that feel?”
You take a shuddering breath, closing your eyes and trying to clear your head to no avail—your thoughts are like TV static. 
“I’m good. I need… I need a minute.”
“You can have as much time as you need. It’s a lot, huh?”
“Yeah,” you admit, voice small and weak. 
“I bet,” he agrees, peppering soft kisses all over your face. “But you’re doing so well. Proud of you, brave girl. You’re doing so well and we’re gonna make sure it feels good soon, okay? Whenever you’re ready.”
“Will you please kiss me again?” you whisper, and Spencer’s brow knits with concern. 
“Of course, angel. Of course I’ll kiss you,” he says, and makes good on his promise with his lips on yours. It sweetens the ache. “I’ll do whatever you want. You can have anything. You’re so perfect.”
He kisses you again, just as lovingly, and soft, like you’re delicate. All the praise is only contributing to your lightheadedness, but you don’t mind at all. It feels good. 
“You can… you can move.”
“Okay. We’ll go really slow, yeah?”
He waits for your nod before his hips are pulling back and you arch at the odd sensation. When he pushes back in, eyes carefully locked on yours the whole time, you keen slightly, frowning and brain shorting out as it tries and fails to process this new feeling. 
“Uh-huh. You’re okay, I promise.”
At first it doesn’t feel good. It mostly hurts. But slowly, the pain begins to abate as you acclimate to having him inside of you, and he’s careful the whole time. 
“Spence?” 
“Hm?”
He sounds concentrated on the task at hand—you’re entranced by the sight of him above you, the parted lips, the unkempt hair over the brow furrowed in pleasure and focus. But he’s never too busy for you. 
“Does it… um—” you pause to hold back a whine—“what does it feel like for you?”
At this, he slows even further and chuckles—it’s a strained, slightly breathy sound. 
“For me?”
“Mhm.”
“You feel perfect, baby. You feel so fucking good.”
The slight fry in Spencer’s voice as he curses, which is a rare event in and of itself, flips your stomach, turns you on immensely. The idea that you’re giving him pleasure too—it’s almost overwhelming. That’s when it starts feeling good. 
“Oh—” you squeak, jaw dropping and bucking your hips inadvertently as the first bolt of true pleasure shocks deep in your core. He hums. 
“Yeah, is that it, sweet girl?”
But you can’t answer for a long moment. Your brain is melting as your legs lock around him. 
“Mm—it’s—it feels…”
“I know it does,” Spencer murmurs.
You whine and press your face into the curve of his shoulder as each thrust gently rocks your body. As the pace picks up bit by bit, you feel yourself clenching hard around him. His hips stutter and he hisses. 
“Ah. Can’t do that, lovely.”
“What? Did I hurt you?”
He laughs breathily. 
“No, you didn’t hurt me. You almost pushed me out. You have to relax.”
“Sorry,” you whisper. “’M trying.”
“You don’t need to be sorry. I know you’re trying, baby, you’re being so good for me.”
Your nails skim his back—a small expression of a much larger desperation. Once he’s sure you’re relaxed around him, begins going faster. 
Your gasps and soft moans come more often now as he finds a steady rhythm and it feels so different when he’s actually fucking you. It feels like he’s everywhere. Every time your hips meet you feel the sweet shock of it in your teeth, your toes, the back of your neck. In the best way, you feel consumed by him. It’s not at all like you’d imagined, and it’s perfect. 
“Wait, Spencer,” you breathe, struggling to form the words. Immediately he stops again, lifting his head from your shoulder to examine your face. 
“What is it?”
He sounds just as wrecked as you feel, panting and strained and it feels good to hear. 
“I wanna watch.”
For a moment his eyes dart between yours like he’s trying to determine what you really mean—but you said exactly what you meant. Then he laughs, a huff of air from his nose as he presses his head to yours and gives you a quick kiss.
Your toes curl as he readjusts his position, holding himself a little higher and resting your heads together so you can both look between your bodies. 
“There,” he murmurs as he slowly begins to withdraw again. “Like that?”
But you can’t answer, because you’re too busy whimpering at the sight of him pushing into you. The feeling seems to increase tenfold as you watch it happen. Distantly you wonder how the fuck it fits. 
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Like that.”
Spencer takes this as a blessing to find a pace again, slower now as he seems to be just as enthralled by the sight as you are. 
“Give me your leg,” he rasps after a few moments like that, and you don’t know what he means exactly but you lift your right leg slightly only for him to press his hand to the back of your knee and push toward your chest, effectively opening you up and giving him more range of motion. It also enables him to fuck you even deeper. Again he slows, apparently savoring the feel of you yielding around him all the way down to the hilt. 
Black spots dance in your eyes as he settles at your deepest point—not pain, necessarily, just overwhelming sensation. Your jaw drops and you choke out a moan as he presses into recesses you didn’t know you had, as he shows you a part that you might have gone the rest of your life without knowing existed. He stops there, like that. Everything stops there, like that. If the cars on the road below ceased to drive, if the airplanes froze in the sky, you’d not be the least bit surprised. Somehow, you’ve unlocked a small eternity. There’s no sound but your joint heavy breathing and your heart pounding in your ears. The words just come bubbling up out of you in a little whine. 
“I love you.”
Spencer’s breath pauses for a moment before he’s letting it all out at once, brushing his lips up the ridge of your nose before they settle on your forehead in what seems like a permanent kiss. A few breaths in, you allow your eyes to flutter shut. Your heart rate slows down a touch, and you settle into the moment, never having been quite so content as you are like this—never having felt quite so adored and safe. 
“I love you,” he finally echoes, voice rasping, lips still pressed to your skin, still breathing against your hair. When he starts to move again, drawing back ever so slowly, you hiss softly. He raises his head from yours, and you look away from where he’s pulling out, meeting his eyes just in time for him to push back in, just as deep. They shine in the mostly-dark room and you moan unabashedly. It’s a high-pitched, sweet thing, nothing that will have the neighbors complaining—but so clearly true, from the depths of your soul, an expression of everything you’re feeling—not just the pleasure. 
Although that’s good, too, as Spencer shapes you to him again and again, the head of his cock kissing places nobody’s ever been and places you hope nobody else will ever venture to. This is all you need. Him. 
“Jesus,” Spencer groans, eyes fixed on your face as he fucks you slowly. But you can’t bring yourself to talk, too new to this kind of pleasure to find it anything other than mind-boggling and world altering. Your lips are still parted, allowing each sound to pass without filter. “Listen to you, beautiful.”
When he stops again, just to look down and marvel at you, you’re conflicted. On the one hand, you can taste the pleasure on the back of your tongue and he keeps taking it away when it’s so close. But on the other—you’re just as overwhelmed as he said you’d be. Your body has never had to process this kind of sensory information before, and you’re exhausted, but it’s so good. 
“Spencer,” you manage. He looks up, pupils blown and eyes lidded where they’d normally be wide. “Please don’t stop.”
He swallows, spurred into action again as soon as you say it. 
“Good?”
You nod and whine again as he picks up the pace bit by bit, remembering to push your leg back once more so he can get as deep as you need him. 
“So good,” you exhale at the top pitch of your voice. Your brows pinch and you release a fuller moan as Spencer finds a speed that’s fast enough to constantly feel good no matter where he is. You’re gasping for breath, back arching—and he finds a new angle, catching against the spot inside you that renders all those years of human evolution that gave you sentience and intelligence a waste. He chuckles airily at your series of series of affronted moans and halted gasps. 
“Right there? That's a good spot, isn’t it?”
“Oh, go—fuck, fuck!”
It feels so good it almost hurts, and your eyes are stinging to prove it. Your legs clamp tighter around him and you realize there’s a very lewd wet sound and you can’t believe that’s you. 
“Spencer, you’re—oh my god, I love you,” you whine, and it sounds like you’re pleading for your life. At this makes his own sound of pleasure, and hastens his messy circles on your clit as if in reward. 
But it’s too much all combined. 
Your hand claps to your mouth to obscure the loud, licentious moan that comes out—but Spencer immediately moves his hand from between your legs to grab your wrist and pin it gently to the bed, intertwining your fingers. 
“Don’t do that. Let me hear.”
You nod, and he lets go of your hand to return his fingers to your clit. If possible you get wetter around his cock—you can feel yourself gushing. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whine as if pained. 
“Yeah? Gonna finally let me feel you cumming, angel?”
He has a filthy mouth when he wants to. The words hit like high voltage to your core and the very pit of your stomach. You can’t even respond beyond a desperate sob. 
“Show me, baby. I’m right here. Let go.”
You cum around his cock with a broken cry and it’s like a purge of every drop of angst you’d felt over the past week or so—hell, it’s a purge of all the insecurities that had bubbled to the surface since you started dating him. None of it matters anymore. How could it matter when you have him? When you have this?
The orgasm washes you out like a tidal wave, taking everything with it. It’s strong, and it’s so good, so intense, your body is overwrought with sensation and it’s too much even though it’s perfect. Your brain is drawing a blank as it tries to react to the feeling, and it’s like every button on the damn panel has been hit. 
“Fuck, I’m close,” Spencer grits, and you feel it in the way he adjusts his position, shifting as he grips at the edge of the mattress for leverage and the thrusts become messier, needier. You gasp as his other hand tangles in your hair, turning your head to ghost your lips over his forearm. It’s not entirely surprising when his own lips find your shoulder—but the feeling of him finding his release just as his teeth sink into your skin does come as quite a shock. It doesn’t hurt, and you’re sure there’s no skin broken, but it’s an undeniable fact that he has grounded himself in the throes of passion by biting down on you.
Inside you, he feels hot. Searing, almost, as his spend tries to fill space that doesn’t exist. There is absolutely no room for anything else inside of you. Stars dance in your eyes at the overstimulation, but long after he’s finished he’s still fucking into you—albeit much slower and with far less technique. Spencer moans like a two bit whore, like he’s reached pain to a point of ecstasy, and to you it’s as good, as special as the singing of the planets. If he’s as sensitive as you are now, it’s no small feat for him to keep going on like this. It’s a testament to how much he doesn’t want it to be over. The pleasure is carrying him away, but you’re beginning to feel how soft you must be and how if he continues on like this you may bruise like an overripe peach. 
“Spencer,” you manage, skating your hand up and down his back in what you hope are soothing lines. “Baby.”
He whines as his lips detach from your shoulder, but his hips finally slow to a stop, nestled inside you. 
“Jesus, fuck, I'm sorry,” he breathes, opting now to bury his face in your neck (with significantly less biting this time).
You’re still reeling, toes still curled, still struggling to breathe as your head spins and spins and spins. His chest pushes against yours with every heaving breath, hot and heavy on your skin, and that’s the only sign he’s still alive until his hand eventually reanimates in your hair, scratching your head tenderly. 
For a span of minutes, you stay like that—silent, twined together like caducean serpents. His weight on top of you is perfect. This, the lack of differentiation between your body and his, is perfect. You don’t know where he ends and you begin and you don’t need to. It’s a blissful moment. 
“Hey.”
Spencer’s voice is hoarse when he finally speaks, lifting his head to look at you with flushed cheeks and messy hair and sparkly eyes. 
“Hi.”
He smiles. 
“You’re so pretty.”
“You too,” you murmur, moving your hand from his back and pressing your thumb into the hollow of his cheek. His eyes map the curves of your face as he pushes your surely askew hair back. 
“How do you feel?”
It takes you a moment to seriously consider his question, scanning your body for any undue pains, but for the moment, you find none, beyond a dull aching throb that you can manage. 
“Good. Tired.”
You wince at the uncomfortable feeling of him pulling out. Spencer hums sympathetically and presses a sticky kiss to your lips which makes it a little better, though you can’t ignore how uncomfortable all the previously pleasant wetness has become between your legs. 
“Here—stay here, I’ll get a wash cloth and—”
“It’s fine,” you insist, holding on even as he tries to roll off of you. “I just need… will you stay here for a little bit?”
“Of course,” he promises, now pressed close to your side and propped up on an elbow, “whatever you want.”
You lavish in his gaze, warm like a spotlight, as he strokes your cheek and plays with your hair. Very quickly you’re lulled into a doze, eyes fluttering shut. Minutes stretch. You feel drunk on waking dreams, and perfectly at peace. Safe. 
“Angel girl,” he christens you fondly. More than anything, it’s an observation, so lovely it sinks into your skin like a balm, soothing every tired muscle and little mark he’d made. Even half-asleep, it makes you smile. 
“You’re an angel,” you slur, reaching blindly for him, and he chuckles, catching your wrist and helpfully settling your hand on his cheek. 
“I thought you were asleep.”
You hum, “mm-mm,” looking up at him with just as much adoration as he has for you. Those cuddle hormones must be kicking in because soon you’re attempting to pull him back on top of you. He doesn’t quite comply, probably for fear of crushing you—rather he settles next to you, gathering you in his arms. 
Silence blankets the two of you, but it’s not unpleasant as you just watch each other with barely-there smiles curling your mouths. This kind of intimacy still manages to give you butterflies, even after everything else you’ve done. This kind of satisfaction, reverie in the sound of each other’s blood flowing and lungs filling. Setting aside words because you don’t need conversation as a pretense for wanting to be around each other anymore. You don’t need an excuse to look at him like this. You don’t need words any more than you need clothes. It’s enough to just be. 
“I love you,” he says, a soft reminder, and entirely redundant with the way he’d already been looking at you, touching you. 
“I know. I love you too.”
The smile flickers brighter on his face. 
“And thank you.”
Your eyes narrow minutely as you consider what he could possibly be thanking you for. 
“For what?”
“For loving me. And trusting me. It’s…” your heart squeezes as you realizes tears are pooling in his eyes. He takes a moment and clears his throat. It’s incredibly endearing. “It means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.”
You look down, thumbing at the sheets where you’ve hoisted them over your bodies. 
“You do realize how lame we are if we have sex and both immediately start crying, right?”
At this he laughs loudly but not loud enough to pop the little bubble you’re in, and you look up just in time to catch the brilliance of his smile, the way it changes his whole face and he becomes superhuman in his beauty, the lines that form by his eyes and the way they narrow and crystalline tears bead his lashes like precious gems. 
“Don’t cry,” he requests gently, hypocritically as your own eyes sting. The way his smile fades is like the sun setting. Gorgeous, like everything else he does. “You’ve cried so much, honey. Please don’t cry.”
You sniffle, gathering yourself. 
“I’m not. That would be pathetic.”
Spender leans forward to kiss you tenderly a few more times. Ordinarily you’d worry about coming across as clingy when you hold onto him so closely and so insistently like this, but for now you don’t care. Neither does he, it seems, as he seems unable to get you close enough. Eventually, you end up curled against him, head tucked under his chin and dozing on and off as he traces shapes into your skin. 
“What are you writing?” You mumble some time later, cheek smushed against his shoulder. He only responds with a soft hm, like he was lost deep in thought. You clarify, “it feels like you were writing something.”
“She Walks in Beauty.”
Your lips pull into a sleepy smile. 
“The Lord Byron poem?”
The first time you’d met Spencer, he’d inadvertently caused your painstakingly annotated copy of Lord Byron’s works to go flying all over a cafe, and then kindly helped clean up the pages and reorder them for you in record time. Among the poems had been She Walks in Beauty. 
“Yeah. I was trying to figure out when exactly I fell in love with you, and as someone who is deeply skeptical about love at first sight, I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I keep coming back to our first conversation. I mean, I believe in genetic compatibility, and how that contributes to attraction and what we think of as chemistry, but—”
“Wait, what about our first conversation did it?” Your cheeks ache from smiling as you speak. “As I recall I was being a bitch and I was covered in coffee.”
He laughs dreamily, still tracing letters over the small of your back. You wonder what part of the poem he’s at now. 
“Yeah, mean to me and covered in coffee is pretty much exactly my type. But I think it was actually the annotations on that copy of Lord Byron’s works. They were so insightful, and personal, I—it kind of took my breath away, and I know I shouldn’t have read them all but I couldn’t stop. You were compelling, and charming, and funny and wildly intelligent and beautiful and… and I didn’t stand a chance.”
Everything aches. It’s a good ache. Despite being seconds from tearing up all over again, you snort. He never told you about that first day.
“You thought me writing ‘sister fucker’ in all caps every time he mentioned Augusta was charming?”
“Oh, obscenely so. But now that I’m looking back, I feel like… I feel like I can’t remember not being in love with you. I mean, I remember when I realized I was, and that was later. But it was like I met you, and then I was just… waiting for you to catch up.”
You grab his hand and interlace your fingers, watching the way the ambient nighttime light from the window and the bathroom dips them half in color. 
“We were pretty much on the same page. I was debating courthouse versus small intimate ceremony as soon as you left.”
You watch him watching your joined hands, features soft and relaxed, fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly as he speaks. 
“Definitely small intimate ceremony. I have too many friends who would kill me if they weren’t invited to the wedding.”
You giggle and pretend the thought doesn’t give you butterflies. You imagine a ring on your finger, the one he’s got between his own. Marriage had never been something you’d considered. Not when you had no reason to. It seemed like something for other people. But maybe one day, it will be for you, too. 
“Did you know Lord Byron had a daughter who is regarded by many as the first computer programmer? She wrote the first algorithm for a theoretical machine that was so complex it couldn’t be built with the technology available at the time. It was called an Analytical Engine.”
He sounds almost wistful as he gives you the utterly unprompted, but still welcome, abridged version of her life. The description is ringing a bell—but you can’t quite place her, sleepy as you are.  
“What was her name?”
“Ada Lovelace. She was exceptionally gifted. The odds of parent and child being so extraordinary in their respective fields are incalculable, but from a purely theoretical perspective, negligible. I mean, they’re both massive historical figureheads. That’s extremely uncommon.”
You adore it when he goes off on these tangents—the passion that stains his voice, the ardor that grips him until he has no choice but to tell you exactly what’s got him so excited. You could listen to him talk for hours. It means he’s here with you, and he wants you to love what he loves. 
Since he met you, that’s all Spencer has wanted—for you to love what he loves. 
You want the same. 
“Pretty name,” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut. “Tell me more.” 
3K notes · View notes
lvlyghost · 11 months
Text
Remnants
PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
SUMMARY: You got hurt and Simon finds out.
WORD COUNT: 1.0k
TW: bruises, slight angst. reader missing simon. also fluff think that's it. lmk if i missed any. also poorly edited and not proofread. mind the english!🤭✨🤍
A/N: this is so self indulgent. embarrassing how much time it took to get out because i've had this idea for two weeks now. anyway enjoy!💛
Masterlist✨
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Laying in bed until it was late was part of your daily routine when Simon was off on deployment. Too tired to even get up when he wasn't around to wake you at 7:00 a.m.
He was a morning person unlike you.
You remember the days he would drag you against him by the waist mumbling something about being too late to be in bed, to which you had groggily bit back and slapped his arm in a playful manner. Then he would be gone for months, leaving nothing but an empty bed and the absence of his deep voice to fill your ears. Feeling that made your eyes well with tears and your heart ache. What if I don't see him again? What if that was the last time I ever felt his touch?
Shaking your head you pull yourself out of the comfort of your shared bed, taking a quick bath before preparing yourself a nice breakfast.
Winter is starting to settle in and your favorite thing to wear is his black hoodie. The one that swallows you entirely. It smells like him, it's almost like being embraced by him.
"Come on don't cry now." rubbing your eyes with the hem of the sleeves. Traitorous, salty droplets spilling down. "Jesus." Taking a deep breath you calm yourself and the ache gradually stops.
The kitchen is somewhat cold despite the heater turned on. You watch as the coffee brews —the one he dislikes— you smile again although small. Barely a quirk of your lips at the thought of him looking intently at you as you take a sip and offer him one.
'Bloody incorrigible.' He had muttered.
But you had seen him smiling that day as well, as different as you both were from one another, the love you two held couldn't be denied, nor broken.
That's why when the front door creaks open your eyes widen, legs moving faster than your brain can register. Socked feet dragging across the wooden floor nearly slipping. Simon stands stall, the door closing behind him as he lowers the black duffel bag on the floor.
"Are you really back?" Your lower lip trembles, the emotion too heavy to hold it back.
"Come here, love." You lunge forward, collapsing against his body. Simon's quick to catch you with strong arms holding you. Bodies pressed together. He can finally let himself breathe. The smell of your home, the smell of that awful coffee you love, the aroma of your shampoo and perfume that drives him absolutely crazy. He pulls his mask off and his mouth is soon against your soft lips. Oh how he missed you. He missed this, his girl softly caressing his face standing on your tiptoes. Simon grumbled, when he feels the air shift and you pull back, his brown eyes glimmer with devotion.
"Don't worry there's tea for you. Plenty. I made sure of that for when you returned." He inhales deeply, kissing you once again on the forehead. Taking his hand you lead him to the kitchen to serve both the breakfast you've been working on. "How are the boys?" You ask taking two mugs out of the top cabinet.
"A bit more scarred than before but they're good." He comes behind you lingering close —too close— to your back. "Price wants a reunion. Told him I'd let you decide."
"You already know I'll say yes." He hums watching you pour some water in the kettle and waiting for it to boil. "Black or chamomile?"
"Black." You try to move around as much as you can with him caging you from behind. Giggling when he once again kisses you on the temple. "Alright, let me see you again..."
Simon grabs you by the forearm it's not hard, it's gentle but firm. Firm enough to hurt your neglected limb. You shriek, a loud 'no' leaves your lips as you stumble back and away from him, soothing the place where he had touched you. It hurt so much but you quickly regret your reaction knowing it'd spark something within him.
Simon's eyes go wide, then his brows furrow so hard you can see the small line that could leave a permanent mark on his forehead.
"What was that?" He growled. The distance you put between you and him is cut off by his long strides.
"It's nothing, I- I swear." You trail off, searching for an explanation. But he's smart and he won't let this pass.
Few things could make him lose his temper, you lying about your wellbeing was one of the top on the list.
"Show me." He demands and the way his eyes pierce through every part of you leaves no room for discussion.
Rolling up your sleeves you hold out your forearms. Simon's jaw clenches so hard you're certain he's cracked some of his teeth. Eyes set on your damaged limb; red and purple bruises on your skin. They're so fucking big and he has to remember how to breathe and control his emotions. "How?" His eyes shot back to yours, awaiting.
"I promise it's not what you're thinking Simon."
"Don't give me that. I asked you a question." he takes one of them careful not to press too hard as he brushes his thumb over one of them. Fucking hell. It's swollen.
"Just work Simon. I had to carry big boxes and you know I'm not that strong, that's it. So stop thinking the worst, yeah?"
Sighing he lets go of your arm, the anger slowly ebbs and he feels fucking tired. He thought the worst. No one could blame him, it was in his DNA.
"Next time let me know beforehand, bloody hell love."
You give him a quick hug.
"I still might have to have a talk with your cunt boss."
You snort.
"No you won't." You declare, motioning for him to follow back. "Tea's ready."
Oh, but he would definitely pay him a visit.
4K notes · View notes
ambrosiagoldfish · 7 months
Note
I've never sent a request before, but I'm fiending for more adam, like anything, anything at all
Benefit of the doubt
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Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Viewer discretion is advised
Warnings: Angst(?), Not exactly fluff at the end but it gets better, typical Adam TW’s, reader low-key high-key has a complex about being loved, this is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader. (Also Y/n isn’t used, which also surprised me, the author, LMAO)
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Request Box: Open
Word count: 1760
A/N: Hi! Thanks for the request! I haven’t had a chance to write something that was originally my own idea in a while, so this was very refreshing! I’ve had this idea since I’ve watched the show so I hope you enjoy it!
I’m entirely up for making a small series from this oneshot, but I would need to know y’all’s opinion on it! (So don’t feel scared to let me know if you want some more of this idea in my Request box/the replies on this post!!)
Also Adam may be slightly OOC but please just chalk it up to him not yet getting his ego’s dick sucked 24/7
Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, let me know if you do!
Proofread but of course could have left mistakes!
You’ve existed for almost all of human existence, Almost.
You were the 4th being to be created during the time of Eden. But unlike the other 3, you weren’t human. In fact, you technically never lived before. An honestly hopeless existence, yet it was so beautiful in every way. But for what purpose? Well…
You were created shortly after Eve ate the apple, before she and eventually Adam committed the first act of sin that caused evil to latch onto humanity like a leech.
The reason for your existence was simple. To be Adam’s new spouse, except for when after he died. From the very moment Eve bit the fruit of temptation, it was already decided she would hold no place in heaven. Adam was given mercy due to him not possessing any knowledge of the fruit Eve had shared with him, he trusted her wholeheartedly. Which is exactly why heaven gave him mercy… no, pity would be a better choice of words.
Upon your creation you learned immediately of the happenings before your existence. About Lilith and Eve, and about Lucifer
And so, after Adam and Eve were casted away from the Garden, they continued to live their lives, fostering the existence of mankind for the rest of time. And when they eventually died, Adam was given pity while Eve was thrown to the wayside, the vast unknown.
You thought it was finally your time to experience existence with the one you loved, the one you were made for. Of course you never would know life as he did but surely your life never-after life could be just as meaningful as his.
How excited you were, how completely enamored by the thought of it. But there was a problem with that, Adam had grown into a new person, he was meant to of course, he was human. But he had grown selfish, abhorrent… insecure.
You understood why, to be betrayed by not one but two of his wives for the same person. You couldn’t possibly imagine what he could be feeling. Before you were to meet your future husband, Sera informed you that he had asked for a mask, and once on, he has refused to take it off.
That didn’t bother you, it’s irrelevant to your love for him. You've only heard descriptions of his features. Short Brown hair, gold eyes, bushy eyebrows, some scruff on his chin. All in all, he sounded perfectly fine, ordinary even. But even then it’s his choice to wear the mask, so you’ll respect it.
Finally, the time he arrived in heaven, and when Sera finally introduced you, his new spouse, the one to whom would be by his side for the rest of forever.
He rejected you outright.
“What?” Your breath hitched as you stuttered over the word, the sharp inhale of your lungs through your mouth flicked through the air.
Sera looked just as shocked as you but she quickly regained her composure “What is the meaning of this Adam?”
“If you think I’m going to let my life get fucked over by another one of your “gifts” well, you’ve got another thing coming!” He crossed his arms and shook his head defyingly. “I’ve already learned my lesson with those last 2 bitches.”
“Adam I’m sorry that happened to you but I would never-“ almost like lightning his finger shot to your mouth, shushing you.
“Save it, Sweetcheeks, I really don’t care what you have to say, so just stay there and look pretty, k?” His hand fell and grabbed the sides of your face, squishing your cheeks together, his LED mask flashing a sharp smile.
You saddeningly looked down at the clouds below you.
“Adam!” Sera’s voice sounded through the air, still soft but firm, she continued, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Divine judgment allowed you to be the first human soul in heaven, so I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to give your new spouse that same grace.”
Slowly your eyes looked up at Sera with a soft smile. Adam only groaned “Ugh, Fine but don’t be fuxking annoying, capiche?” You nod your head quickly.
“Very good, glad we have it settled.” Sera gives a quick smile, “now, I have some business to take care of so I’ll leave you two alone to get to know one another” With that, Sera flew away leaving the both of you alone.
The silence was thick in the air, the only sound being the occasional wind breeze blowing past. The sunlight creeps in through the clouds painting an orange sky above you both. In every sense of the word, it was perfect.
It was almost funny. You had waited so long to finally meet him, your true love, the one you were made for. All the things you dreamed about, the laughs you’d have together, the warm embrace of the person who you loved. But now… you didn’t know what to say…
“I’m… happy to finally meet you.” Your voice is quiet, almost non-audible. “I’ve been waiting for you since… well, forever…”
He doesn’t respond. He seems to be transfixed on something below you both. You train your eyes on whatever he’s watching only to see the dark cavernous abyss below you. Finally he breaks his silence.
“The fuck is that?” He asked pointing down, a sound of genuine intrigue hidden behind his abrasive voice
“That’s hell?” You stated confused “where would-be sinners will go to be punished, didnt you k-“ you suddenly realized that perhaps Adam really didn’t know what hell was. It was only created relatively recently, after Eve and Him ate the apple, of course he wouldn’t know. “it’s also where Lucifer-“
“Don’t fucking say his name.” Adam spoke, his voice rough in his speech. LED mask putting a harsh frown on his face. “Let’s get one thing straight M”Kay babe, if you’re my “new spouse” that’s something you should remember.” The “new spouse” was said with a tone clearly meant to mock you.
“Sorry…”
“Ugh, It’s fine, just don’t do it again.” He groaned before a wicked smile crept onto his mask “Sooo, that means he’s going to be stuck with all the wasteful beings of existence, HA fuxkin’ hilarious. Guess that makes them the losers and us the Winners!”
His laugh filled the air, the sound was like music to your ears, sure maybe it wasn’t really what you’d hoped he’d fine funny, but you loved it all the same but eventually his laugh died down
Silence again… in admits of all of it you suddenly was sparked with a thought “oh!” Adam looked confused at the random exclamation. “I had almost forgotten… I brought you something, as a welcome gift or was it a nice to meet you gift? Both? Eh, it doesn’t matter but the point is-“ you suddenly snap your fingers.
Golden light began shining, the light seemed like liquid hot magma as it moved and molded slowly into a shape. Light seemed to be overlapping and churning into itself, forming your desired outcome. With one final snap of your fingers, the gleaming gold liquid took hold, and quickly hardened to a solid.
The object that had formed quickly fell down, landing in your arms with a light thud.
“I’m still learning this creation stuff, so I’m sorry if it’s not perfect but-“ you hold out the object in your arms as an invitation to grab it “I learned from Sera that you liked to play guitar when you were alive, so I thought you might like to have one here…”
Adam looked at the instrument in your hands. The base color was gold, the neck was pearly white with gold strings. To be honest it looked more like a harp then anything, like if a guitar and a harp had a baby.
Silence again. Did he not like it? Did he hate it? You go to pull it back to you and apologize when suddenly it’s ripped out from your hands.
“Holyshit, this is sick as Fuck!” Adam immediately started playing some rifts on the new guitar. The sound wasn’t what you were expecting but you guess Sera was right about his talent with the instrument. The whole time his mask had a wide and sharp smile as he mimicked guitar sounds with his voice, the occasional laugh leaving his mouth.
“I’m really glad you like it” you say, a sigh of relief leaving your body.
Adam looked at you, one you missed. He saw how relieved you were, how nice you were being. No person who supposedly loved him ever gifted him something, well, one other did. Someone he trusted and loved more than everyone, anyone. But look how that ended, with them being removed from the garden, away from an eternity of happiness until he died. All from someone giving him what he thought was nothing but love, a gift.
But he could see that this was different, you were different. When Eve gave him the apple, she didn’t explain what it was or why she wanted him to eat it, even when he asked her she didn’t explain. But with you, you had not only given him something you knew he liked but also expressed the reason behind it. Yes, you were different, even Adam could see it.
“Anyways, thanks for the axe, I guess…” Adam for the first time was stunned, but quickly he continued “What was the thing that Sera chick said about me and “divine judgment” or whatever the fuck? That she gave me the “benefit of the doubt…”
You were a bit confused but continued listening, “I guess I should at least try to give you a chance, since you got me this sick ass guitar an’ shit.” Your face lit up, you about began to speak before you were, once again, shushed “B-B-But-” his finger tapped your lips with each repeated syllable ”-only a chance. If you betray me like those last 2 bitches then you’re done, got it?”
To say you were overjoyed would be an understatement, a smile quickly plastered across your face as you quickly nodded your head
“Alright good, so uh, what do ya say about showing me the best places to get a bite to eat around here, I could really go for some ribs right about now.”
“ I’d… love to, thank you Adam”
“Yeah don’t mention it Sweetcheeks” Adam quickly wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you two began walking.
Maybe you will get your eternity of happiness.you can only pray you do.
3K notes · View notes
uyuuma · 6 months
Text
“ THE MOVIE'S NOT THAT SCARY ”
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bigbro!choso x fem!reader ღ MDNI.
❥ summary. you and yuji itadori have been best friends since middle school. you often came over for movie nights with him and his big brother. little does yuji know about the things you and his big bro have been up to.
❥ warnings. nsfw, female anatomy, slight age gap, doing stuff under the covers next to yuji, etc.
❥ a/n. i've been thinking of this scenario for a while. was super fun to write about, ive become a choso girlie in recent times :)
❥ wc. 2.3k
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"Yo, you still on for movie night?" A voice calls out from behind you.
You turn around and see that it's Yuji, your best friend. You adjust the bag strap on your shoulder and smile at the familiar face.
"Yes, of course!" You replied enthusiastically.
Yuji has been your friend all the way back from middle school. You transferred as a new student and he was the first person to introduce himself. You guys quickly became close friends because of his kind and extroverted demeanor.
Yuji had an ongoing tradition with you where you guys would have movie nights on Fridays. It was mostly held at his house since he had the bigger TV. Throughout middle and high school you guys would excitedly choose a movie and watch it after a long week of school, wrapping up the week in a fun celebration.
Sometime in your senior year of high school, some things changed in Yuji's household. His older half-brother, Choso, moved into the house with Yuji. You could remember the day like it was yesterday, the first time you laid eyes on the pale man.
He was around 7 years older than you from what Yuji told you. Already long graduated college before you even started. You felt something inside you spark when you first saw him, you weren't really sure what it was though. It could've been his stoic face or perhaps how he towered over you in height. But something made you feel giddy whenever you were around him.
Choso began to join in on movie nights, around the time you were 19. Calmly resting on one side of you, with Yuji engulfed in the movie on the other side of the couch. Yuji was always too immersed into the movie to notice how you and Choso would share glances at each other every now and then. It even flew right over his head when you started to wear skimpier outfits when coming over as well. How your oversized t-shirts and sweats turned into tight lacy-tank tops and booty shorts that accentuated your ass just right. I mean, it wasn't his fault because Yuji never saw you in that way.
Oh, but Choso did. He noticed how exchanging glances turned into you nudging your hand against his, or how you playfully rubbed your foot against his leg. How your clothes became increasingly revealing every week or how you would cling to him at the scary part of a movie.
Choso was experienced, he could tell how hard you were trying to get his attention. He found it extremely adorable at your attempts to flirt with him. He would often let out a quiet chuckle or make clever remarks that would make you get butterflies in your tummy.
It wasn't long before you and Choso started to mess around. How Yuji never noticed how you two would disappear halfway into the movie for an hour, was beyond you. It was a common occurrence for you to tease Choso under the blanket too much, making him excuse himself that he had to lay down in his room from a 'headache'. He would then shoot you a glare and squeeze hard onto your thigh, signaling to you that you better follow. You would then excuse yourself a couple of minutes later so that you could use the bathroom.
Really you were headed to Choso's room, where he would bury his cock into you until you begged him for mercy. Your body spasming from his ruthless pounding, covered in sweat. After he felt like you received the correct punishment for whatever you did that pissed him off, he would quickly clean up to join back with Yuji. You would follow him, the stench of sex still all over you. But, Yuji never seemed to notice.
That still applied to your current situation. You were sitting in between the boys, blanket on your lap as it extended to Choso's. Yuji didn't use a blanket, he just had his favorite pillow on his lap. Tonight Choso recommended that you guys watch a horror film. Yuji put on the original 'Scream' excitedly, since he enjoyed cheesy horror flicks.
A little into the movie Yuji had already become absorbed into the plot, not paying any mind to the two of you. That was when you felt Choso's arm move behind you. You believed it to be him just putting his arm around your shoulder so you leaned into him. That was when you stifled a gasp from exiting your mouth as you felt his warm fingers pull at your shorts.
You look up at him, holding back a whimper as he snaked his hand through the back of your shorts. His fingers found their way to your panties, skillfully parting it out of the way. He used his middle finger to gently rub against your clit, hoping to get you wet. It worked as you easily became soaked from his touch.
He smirked and kept his eyes on the TV, moving one of his digits along your slit. You squeezed your legs together from the warm sensation and leaned into Choso's shoulder. You fought back a moan by gripping onto his sleeve.
Choso then plunges his slender and long middle finger into your soft cunt. He gave out a muffled groan disguised as him clearing his throat as he felt himself become hard from the sensation alone. Something about how your pussy sucked in his finger made him want to fuck you right then and there. Unfortunately, it wasn't possible at this very moment.
Feeling how your pussy squeezed his finger and legs quivered from his touch made him add another finger. It made you gasp, feeling him slowly insert his ring finger inside of you, gasp audibly enough for Yuji to pick up on it.
"Hah, looks like you still find horror movies scary." Yuji said teasingly, looking over briefly. He turned to face the TV, still being clueless as to what was going on.
You gave out a nervous giggle in response and moved to look back at the TV, trying not to break the act.
However, Choso would not let up as he started to move his fingers inside of you. You squeezed your thighs together as he finger-fucked your little hole. His fingers began to grind against your walls as he curled them to hit your sweet spot. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he hit that spot relentlessly, trying to get you to make more noise.
Choso loved to humiliate you, so he worked his damned hardest to get you to let out your sweet moans. He knew Yuji was too stupid to catch on, he just simply wanted you to feel embarrassed.
That was when he quickened the pace, your wetness starting to cover his fingers in slick. A familiar wet slapping sound began to seep from beneath the blanket, as he moved his fingers aggressively into your needy cunt. You quickly glanced at Yuji, knowing for certain he could hear that.
"Damn, the sound effects in this movie are pretty realistic." Yuji said as he shoveled popcorn into his mouth.
You become hot in the face knowing your lewd little cunt was making sounds loud enough that Yuji could hear it.
"Yeah, I guess they know what it sounds like to rearrange someone's guts." Choso said with a smirk. His voice was nonchalant, but you knew it was his sadistic way of poking fun at you.
You suck in air through your teeth annoyedly, closing your eyes, trying to relax as best as you could.
Unfortunately for you, Choso would give you no moment of reprieve as he timed his fingers curling and stroking your sweet spot along with the biggest jumpscare of the movie.
You let out a shocked moan, gripping onto Choso's bicep harder. You hid your face in Choso's chest in embarrassment, trying to slink away from Yuji as much as possible.
"Woah, calm down. The movie's not that scary." Yuji was surprised by your sudden reaction. He looked at how you clutched onto his big brother for safety and just smiled. He was glad you at least could find relief in Choso. Unbeknownst to him, you were fighting for your life not to spasm uncontrollably and cum all over Choso's fingers. Yuji returned his attention to the movie.
Choso was now painfully hard under the blanket, his erection going untouched for quite some time now. He hissed, feeling himself become constrained in his boxers. The pace at which he was moving his fingers started to slow down as he readjusted himself next to you. He moved his legs so that they were spread out beneath the blanket.
You could tell that meant he was hard and you looked up at him to see what he wanted next. Your eyes were met with his normal, expressionless gaze. The light from the TV perfectly illuminated his face to where he looked almost intimidating. He then bent down enough to where he could whisper into your ear.
"I want to fuck your throat." His breath was hot against your ear.
You looked at him, trying to see if he was being serious. He was. He guided you with his left hand to feel how stiff his cock was. You gulped and looked down at his lap, gently rubbing against his erection. He let out a low groan and leaned back against the couch, still keeping his fingers inside you.
You look at Yuji real quick and wait for something scary to happen again in the movie. As soon as you heard a woman shriek on the TV, you quickly hid under the blanket, resting your head on Choso's lap.
You could hear Yuji's muffled laughing from beneath the cover, him buying into your act that you were hiding from the movie.
You then watched as Choso took his left hand to free himself from his sweatpants and underwear, his dick was flushed at the tip and throbbing. You took a deep breath and inched closer toward it, licking lightly on his tip. You could taste the salty precum start to cover your tongue as well as how his abs flexed from your touch. You slowly took him into your mouth, letting your saliva coat his cock. You could tell he was getting annoyed from how slow you were moving because he bucked his pelvis into your face, catching you off guard. You choked a little but quickly caught up to the pace he wanted.
Feeling your slutty throat engulf his cock from under the blanket made him go feral. He went back to fucking your cunt with his fingers. He almost let out a guttural moan from the sensation of your two holes tightening around him. Instead, he just held his mouth and chin with his hand to muffle his sounds. He feigned a bored look on his face, almost as if he was falling asleep, but really he was occupied with how amazing your mouth felt.
His thrusts into your pussy matched the pace that you swallowed him, he was entranced trying to help the both of you cum together.
You too, became absorbed in the moment. Forgetting that outside of the blanket was innocent Yuji, who knew nothing of what was going on. You were caught up in sliding your tongue skillfully along Choso's length and feeling how your throat molded to the shape of his cock.
Choso could feel your saliva start to drip down into his boxers and the feeling was so lewd that his body tensed up. He began to struggle holding in his sounds and jittery movements, he knew he needed to finish or he'd lose it.
His fingers curled against your sensitive spot again, this time he mixed it with quick thrusts, making you moan around his cock. The sound was luckily unheard because the movie was playing loud music. The moan caused vibrations in your throat, which made Choso's eyes dart to the back of his skull. He was so fucking close to busting down your throat, he could feel it coming.
He added a third finger into your sopping wet cunt and continued to massage the spot that he knew so well. This was the final straw for you as you felt your orgasm crash down in waves. Your pussy clenched around his fingers as you came, your legs spasming uncontrollably and your toes curled.
He also reached ecstasy after feeling you squeeze him. He thrusted into your mouth and came as far down your throat as he possibly could. You could feel his hot, thick load spurt into your throat as you struggled to swallow.
After both of you regaining composure and calming your breathing Choso slowly withdrew his fingers from your tired cunt as well as you cleaning him off gently with your mouth. He tucked himself back into his sweats and you took that as a sign to come out of the blanket for some fresh air.
You came out, lights from the TV blinding you temporarily. As your vision adjusted you can see Yuji looking down at you.
"Aw, you missed the ending of the movie." He said slightly disappointed. He took note of your disheveled appearance, hair all tangled and mascara slighting ruined. "You must've been really scared, huh?" He asked worried about you.
"Ah, yeah I should've warned you that I don't handle horror movies that well." You said nervously, trying to comb your hair with your fingers.
"It's alright, I just hope you won't have any nightmares tonight!" Yuji said as he stood up, starting to clear the dishes off the coffee table.
"Don't worry lil bro, I don't think she's getting that much sleep tonight anyways." Choso said with a wide smirk. He winked at you and slid his slick covered fingers into his mouth to taste it.
You watched as he savored your flavor on his tongue, his eyes not moving off of yours.
You guessed you were probably sleeping over tonight.
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rosyblooom · 6 months
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levi's jeans | ln4 smau
PAIRING: lando norris x fem quadrant!reader SUMMARY: y/n loves levi's jeans—it's all she wears, ever. so when lando has to draw her in a quadrant video, that's what he draws: levi's jeans. a bad attempt at flirting? maybe, but it gets the ball rolling. A/N: been listening to 'levii's jeans' 24/7 since the album dropped omg
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Youtube - Quadrant
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Twitter
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yourusername
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liked by riabish, landonorris, yourbestfriend and 101,467 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername happy now??? i don't only wear levi's jeans see😌
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username the lando tag??? lmao his drawing is still on her mind💀
username no but the way I didn't even question it when he drew jeans for y/n lool username @/levis I found yall's next collab partner
landonorris Why'd you tag me in this 🤣
yourusername u drew the jeans🙄 username ...how about u guys kiss and makeup hmm?😏
username oop get u a girl that can do both iktr!!
username why do i kinda want them to date tho🧍‍♀️
username babe me too username me three 🙋‍♂️ username i've been thinking little lando has a crush👀 it was soo obvious in the yt vid
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landonorris posted to his story!
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[ caption: New Quadrant video out now!! Swipe up to watch ]
Youtube - Quadrant
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Twitter
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landonorris posted to his story!
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[ caption: 👖 ]
[ tagged: yourusername ]
Twitter
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Instagram
yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption: let's ride 🏍️ ]
[ tagged: landonorris ]
f1gossipofficial
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liked by username, username, username and 12,400 others
f1gossipofficial After two months of being spotted together numerous times in London and Monaco, and stirring up dating rumours, Lando Norris and fellow Quadrant member Y/N L/N were recently seen off the coast of Spain, soaking up the sun and looking pretty cosy.
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username it's already been 2 months??? omg can they just say yes or no i'm tired😩
username can yall not read the room? look at the pics and ask yourself if that's how friend act pls username they've been friends for ages before that, it makes sense not to rush into anything tbh
username OMG Y/N'S NOT WEARING JEANS🤩
username cause they're in the ocean??🤣 username a win is a win idc !!
username noo i hope they're just friends😭💔
username they're both so hot omfg
Twitter
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yourusername
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tagged: levis
yourusername so happy to announce my levi's x y/n collab that's coming out next week friday!!😭 as everyone probably knows (and is sick of lol) i love me some levi's, so this collection has been soo much fun to work on and i'm very excited for you guys to see it!!🤍❤️💙
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riabish soo proud of you 🩷
yourusername ily🥹❤️
username nobody deserved this more than you y/n!! we will be buying !!
_aarava now you have an actual reason to be wearing them as much as you do🤣
yourusername never wearing anything else ever idc !! username hold on now y/n... let's not be rash😀
levis the countdown starts now👀❤️
yourusername 🫶 username i've been wearing y'all since forever where's my collab??
username love you sm y/n!!! <333
username @/yourusername quickly what's ur fav song on cowboy carter??
yourusername levii's jeans ofc😌 username love that for you girl!
landonorris
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell and 774,890 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris Never getting sick of your levi's jeans obsession🤣 So proud of you baby ❤️👖
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username took yall long enough🤧
yourusername 🩷🩷
(liked by author)
username i love you y/n🥰
yourusername u guys better not make that stupid emoji trend again istg😐
username hey girl💞 you might wanna stay off twitter for the rest of the day ! username 👖👖👖(🤭)
username fml
username con😭gra😭tu😭la😭tions😭
3:35 ─────────ㅇ─── 4:17
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skz-bee123 · 8 months
Text
Telling Skz your ex texted you
Stray Kids reaction
A/N: So here's another reaction after a very long time. I hope it tuns out alright, I haven't gone through and edited it so if there's any mistakes, no there isn't. Jisung's one is again quite short, I don't know why this keeps happening to me but I find him very hard to write, hopefully a one-shot of him will make up for that (I've got a few ideas, I just need to write it out first). For Seungmin's part, the ending is a bit iffy but other then that, enjoy!
Word count: 5.2K
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Bang Chan
"Hey babe?" You called out to your boyfriend who was in the kitchen getting himself a drink.
"Yeah?"
"My ex texted me, what should I text back?"
It goes silent for a couple moments before you call out to him again, "Channie?"
Loud footsteps make their way into the lounge and you see Chan, with a look of annoyance on his face as he makes his way over to you.
"What the fuck does he want?" Chan says as he stands in front of you.
"Just wanted to know if we could meet up." You respond.
Chan goes quiet and you wait for him to speak, watching him as you see his brain ticking over.
"He...wants to meet up?" Chan finally speaks.
You nod your head in confirmation.
"Hasn't that dickhead already put your through enough already? Why is he wanting to talk to you again?" Chan sits down next to you and grabs your hand. "I'm not going to be one of those boyfriends that tells you you can't go, because ultimately it's your choice. But...sweetheart...he put you through hell, he doesn't deserve to see you ever again."
Chan sighs before speaking again, "like I said, it's your choice. Either way I support you, I just personally think that you should ignore him, block him, just get rid of him."
You stay silent for a while before your phone dings again. You look down at it before pulling up the contact of your ex. You block him.
"I did it." You finally speak up.
"What did you do?" Chan asks, grabbing your hand.
You give Chan's hand a squeeze, "I blocked him, I don't know why I hadn't in the first place."
"It's alright baby, I get why you couldn't before."
"Yeah...but I've got you now so, I don't need him anymore."
"That's right, you've got me. And I'm not going anywhere."
Lee Minho
You had gotten a text from your ex.
You chewed on your bottom lip, making it raw and hurt as you agonised over what to do.
You knew you should just delete the messages that kept coming in but just couldn't work up the courage to do it.
You and your ex had not ended on good terms, he was borderline abusive and it took you awhile to work up the strength to leave him. When you finally did, you weren't the same person anymore.
You often got scared by loud shouting and raised hands always made you cower. Minho, you boyfriend of 7 months, knew all about this. He knew about the type of person your ex was and helped you break out of your shell again. He helped you become the person you once were before your ex took that away from you.
Despite all of this, Minho has never been a super protective boyfriend. He never really made a move to go out of his way to protect you, he's never actually really had the need to. Until now.
You were starting to feel anxiety making its way through your body, it clung to you in the most uncomfortable ways possible, squeezing the little bit of air out of your body.
You wanted to tell Minho, why? You weren't even sure yourself. To vent? For advice? To get him to deal with your ex? You don't know. All you know is that your shaking hands and fast-racing heart needed to be with him.
You make your way into your room where Minho was laying on your bed, watching his phone.
Minho looks up at your over the top of his phone before he goes back to watching. A few moments go by and you don't move from your spot in the doorway and Minho pauses his phone and places it down beside him, sitting up and looking over at you.
"Y/n-" Minho goes to say but is cut off from your phone ringing.
You look down and see your ex trying to call you. A sniffle escapes from you as tears well up in your eyes.
"I-" You try to get the words out but you're overcome with tears.
Minho stands up from the bed and makes his way over to you, he grabs your hands and pulls you over to the bed, sitting you both down. Minho gently wipes away your tears and looks at you with a concerned look on his face. "What happened?" He asks.
"My ex texted me." You whisper out, looking down at your hands.
A moment of silence passes before Minho speaks, "What did he say."
"That he wants to talk. He wants to meet up with me and apologise for how things were. he wants to see if we can work things out and get back together."
It goes quite between you two and you look up. Minho's face is blank as h stares off to the side, whatever he's thinking or feeling right now, you can't tell.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you with this." You mumble out.
Minho's face whips around to face you and he opens his mouth. Before he gets the chance to say something, he is once again cut off by your phone ringing.
You feel even more tears well up in your eyes as you see it's your ex trying to call you again. Before you even get the chance to decline the call, your phone is swiped out of your hands.
You watch as Minho answers the call and places it up towards his ear.
"This isn't Y/n." Minho says. There's a moment of silence before he speaks again. "Her fucking boyfriend dickhead."
You watch as a look of pure anger forms on Minho's face, "now you listen here you fucking piece of shit. You contact my girl one more time and I promise you that I'll find you and make your life a living hell. Do you understand me?"
Minho seems to be satisfied with himself as he ends the call, blocking the number of your ex. He throws your phone over to the side of the bed and runs a hand through his hair before looking at you.
"You're not a bother Y/n."
Hearing this confuses you, "huh?"
"Before that son of a bitch called, you said you didn't want to bother me with this. Y/n, you're not a bother to me."
"I just...I just didn't know what to do. You just never really seem to care about this stuff so I just assumed..." you trail off.
"I don't care?" Minho looks at you with a hurt look on his face, "you really think I don't care about you?"
"NO!" You quickly scramble to explain yourself. "I know you care about me but you just never really seem to care about you know...other guys...and like what sets me off and that. I'm sorry, I don's really know what I'm saying."
"Baby..." Minho starts, bringing his hand up to your face. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way because it's far from true."
"Huh?"
"Before you met the boys, I had a long talk with them. Of course I didn't tell them everything but a few basics. You know how they can get with new people they meet, they're loud and touchy. I didn't want them to overwhelm you so I told them to just watch themselves. Even now, sometimes I know that they can get a bit much so I step in. I step in and make up reasons to excuse us because I know you need to have some space but you're too scared to say anything."
"I'm always watching you baby. Always." Minho continues. "It kills me to know what you went through and i know that although you're doing so much better, somethings things set you back. And that's okay. But I know that these setbacks really affect you, so I watch you. I watch so that if you need me to step in, I will. I always will, baby."
"I'm sorry, I really didn't know." You say.
"It's alright baby. You mean to much to me and it hurts me to know you're upset."
You push Minho down onto his back and lay on top of him, putting your head underneath his head, snuggling into his chest. You feel his arms come up to wrap around you protectively as Minho places a kiss on the top of your head.
"I love you Min." You whisper out as your eyes fall close, exhausted from today's events.
"I love you too baby, so much more than you'll ever know."
Seo Changbin
It first happened when you were getting ready to go out for breakfast with your boyfriend, Changbin. You had just finished putting your coat on and was waiting for Changbin to come out of the bathroom so that you both could leave when you got the text.
At first you didn't quite know who it was from, simply thinking it was from a wrong number, so you just brushed it off, not giving it a second thought.
The second time it happened, you and Changbin were walking back from breakfast. It was this time that it clicked to you who exactly was texting you. Blocking the number, you thought that that would be it. Of course though, you were wrong.
All throughout the day you had been receiving text messages from you ex, some pleading for you to take him back, others threatening you for leaving. It left you with an uncomfortable feeling inside of you and you were not quite yourself.
You thought you had been quite good at keeping it to yourself, but your boyfriend, who had noticed right away that something was up, thought that you would come to him when or if you needed too.
But after going to entire day with you looking over your shoulder, Changbin was currently very worried. Worried enough that he decided that if you weren't going to say anything to him, he was going to have to make the first move.
You both were currently sitting down on a park bench, just watching the scenery, it was just reaching sunset.
"Baby?" Changbin calls out to you.
"Yeah?" You turn towards Changbin with a smile on your face.
"Something's been bothering you all day and I've been waiting for you to come to me about it but you haven't. I just don't like seeing you so uncomfortable."
"Nothing's wrong."
"You've been constantly checking your phone and looking over your shoulder, I'm worried baby."
You start to chew your bottom lip and Changbin notices this, he reaches a hand up and gently pulls your lip out from your teeth with his thumb. "None of that love, you'll just hurt yourself. Tell me what's wrong?"
You open your mouth to say something but suddenly your eyes widen as you look over Changbin's shoulder and you're squeezing his hand. Changbin looks over his shoulder and watches a man walk towards you both.
Not quite recognising him but at the same time feeling that this man is somehow familiar to him, Changbin still protectively moves in front of you and watches as the man stops in front of the both of your. He completely disregards Changbin and speak to you.
"Babe, I've been texting you all day. How come you haven't been texting me back huh?" The man speaks.
Changbin turns towards you and all he sees is fear written all over your face and that's enough for him to feel an immense amount of anger well up inside of him.
The man steps forward and reaches out to grab your hand but before he gets the chance Changbin grabs his wrist.
"I don't know who you think you are. But she is not your 'babe'. Changbin speaks with venom in his words and pushes the man's hand away.
The man turns towards Changbin with annoyance, lacing his voice as he speaks. "And who are you?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm Y/n's boyfriend. And you are?"
"Whatever, Y/n babe. Comeback to me, yeah? We can talk about it." The man, who Changbin now recognises as your ex, takes a step towards you and at this Changbin stands up, shoving the man away.
"You take one step closer to her and I swear to God you're going to regret it. Leave and don't contact her again, do you understand?" Despite being shorter than your ex, Changbin was bigger.
"I said. Do. You. Understand?" Changbin says putting emphasis on each individual word.
Your ex nods his head before turning away and walking off. It isn't until your ex is completely out of sight that Changbin sits back down and turns towards you. Noticing the silent tears rolling down your face, Changbin pulls you into a hug.
"We don't need to talk about it now. But I think we need to have a talk later, yeah?" Changbin mumbles into your hair.
You pull away from Changbin and start to apologise. "I'm-" but before you could even finish your sentence you're cut off by Changbin.
No, none of that. Let's just go back home, make some hot chocolate and cuddle while we watch movies, okay?"
You nod your head at him and he stands up, gently pulling you up with him. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Hwang Hyunjin
"Jinnie?"
You wait for an answer only to receive none. You sigh and make your way over to the bed where your boyfriend was wrapped up in the blankets.
"Jin?"
You see Hyunjin's eyes look at you before he turns around so his back is facing you. You sit down on the bed next to him and tug at the blankets. You feel a smile form on your face as you feel Hyunjin tug the blankets back from you.
"Baby."
"Oh am I still your baby huh? I thought you had replaced me." As Hyunjin says this he turns to look at you. Noticing the big smilie on your face he just pouts. "And now you're laughing at me."
You flop onto him, wrapping your arms and legs around Hyunjin. "I'm not laughing."
"On the inside you definitely are."
"Okay maybe that's true but it's only because you're so cute."
Hyunjin narrows his eyes at you suspiciously.
"Baby, you know that I love you right
and that me texting my ex, who I am completely over by the way, would never change that? Beside you, my love, are a lot more handsome.” 
Hyunjin sighs and a smile finally makes its way onto his face. “I know. But it definitely doesn’t pain me to hear it again from you.” 
You roll your eyes at him painfully. “Well if that’s what it takes to stop you from your dramatics, that I’ll tell you over and over again.” 
“Dramatics?” Hyunjin looks at you offended. “I am NOT dramatic.” 
“Jinnie, you are the definition of dramatic.” 
“You know what? For that, I’m not speaking to you again.” Hyunjin gently pushes you off him and rolls over so he’s facing away from you as your laughter sounds around the room.
Han Jisung
“You’ve been staring at your phone for a while, is everything alright?” 
You turn to look up at Jisung who had asked you that question, you smile at him softly before replying, “Yeah, Minjun texted me.” 
“Minjun, your ex?”
You nod your head before looking back down at your phone, replying to a text Minjun sent you. 
Some time passes and you’ve noticed that Jisung has been really quiet, you look up at him to see him staring off, a spaced out look on his face. 
“Ji?” You gently call out for Jisung. 
Jisung snaps out of the daze he was in and looks at you, “Yeah?” 
You move closer to where Jisung is sitting and grab his hand, rubbing your thumb over his. “You were staring into nothing, just wanting to make sure you were okay.” 
“You…your ex.” Jisung mumbles.
“What about him?” 
“How come you’re talking to him?” 
“Oh, you know how he ended up dating one of my friends after we broke up?” 
Jisung nods his head. 
“Well he wants to propose to her, just asking me for some advice on how to go about it.” 
“Oh.” You see Jisung visibly relax and you place your head on his shoulder, snuggling into him. 
“You don’t have to worry Ji, I would never leave you.” 
“I know, I guess I just got into my head a bit is all.” 
With the hand that’s holding Jisung’s, you bring it up to your lips, and place a kiss on his hand. “I know my love, that’s why I’m always here to bring you out of it when you get too far.”
You feel a kiss being placed on the top of your head as Jisung mumbles, ‘I love you’ into your hair. 
Lee Felix
You and your ex ended your relationship on good terms. At the time you both just realised that you weren’t right for each other and agreed that maybe being a couple just wasn’t good for you both.
Your ex ended up getting a promotion at work and had to go overseas for some time. You were extremely happy for him but ended up losing contact.
That’s why when your ex texted you out of the blue, you were surprised yes, but also happy. 
“What’s got you all happy, my love?” 
You looked over at Felix who walked into the living room where you were sitting on the couch. 
“Do you remember Minjun?”
This causes Felix to stop in his tracks. “Like..your ex Minjun?” 
You nod your head, “Mhm.”
“Yeah I do. What about him?” 
“He’s back in Seoul and asked if we could meet up.” 
“Oh.” 
You look up from your phone then and over to Felix.
“Lix.” You call out softly. “Are you okay?” 
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” Felix smiles at you, although you could tell it was forced. “Are you gonna…meet up with him?” 
“Probably, it would be nice to see how he’s doing.”
“Oh..that’s-that’s good then.” 
A bit confused, you slowly nod your head. “Uh yeah, it is. Are you sure everything is alright?” 
“Yeah, everything’s fine, really.” 
You stare at Felix for a moment before continuing on. “Well, Minjun is officially back to live in Seoul now. He’s worked his way up and is now extending his branch more.” 
“You certainly know a lot about Minjun.” 
“We’ve just been texting, trying to find time to catch up.” 
Felix goes really quiet then. You could tell something was bothering him but he just wouldn’t admit it. Getting a bit worried you sit closer to Felix and grab his hands. 
“Lix..what’s wrong? And don’t say it’s nothing, because it obviously is something.”
Felix doesn’t look at you as he speaks. “You and Minjun.” 
“What about us?” You asked, slightly confused.
“You both were very close.”
“We were.”
“And he’s a very handsome guy who is back and wants to meet up with you.” 
It suddenly clicks in your head what was up with Felix. Reaching over, you gently grab Felix’s face in your hands and turn his face to look at yours. “Lixie.” 
“Yeah?”
“I love you so much.” 
Felix eyes widen as you say those words, neither of you had spoken them outloud before, so this moment meant a lot. “You love me?” 
“I do.” You nod your head. “Very much, and some silly old ex isn’t going to change that okay?” 
“Even if he’s really handsome.” 
“In my eyes, no one is more handsome than you. And I will fight anyone who says otherwise.” 
Felix lets out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” 
You smile at Felix before leaning in and placing your head on his chest, closing your eyes. You feel Felix run his fingers through your hair as you feel him relax underneath you. 
“Don’t overthink it okay? I love you a lot and that won’t ever change.” You say, your words muffled from your face being stuffed in Felix’s chest. 
“I know my love and I love you a lot too.” Felix says before closing his eyes and falling asleep with you held tightly to his chest. 
Kim Seungmin
You and Seugmin were just chilling on your couch. He for once had a few days off and chose to spend it with you. It was silent between both you had, had been for the past couple of hours until you broke the silence.
You had been debating with yourself whether or not you should speak to Seungmin about this, but seeing as he was your boyfriend, you decided that you should. It would honestly make you feel better if you did. 
“Hey Minnie?” You finally speak up.
Seungmin just hums not looking up from his phone but letting you know that you had his attention. 
“My um…my ex texted me.” 
“Nice try Y/n.” 
You look at Seungmin confused. “Huh?” 
Seungmin, still not looking at you, answers “I’ve seen this over tik tok. I know you’ve been getting me good with your pranks but this time it’s not gonna work babe.” 
You go quiet for a bit, silently cursing yourself for all the pranks you’ve pulled on your boyfriend. But this time, it wasn’t a prank, your ex had actually texted you and it had left you feeling uncomfortable. 
Not quite knowing what to say you just turn into yourself, staring off into space. 
“Y/n?” 
You look over to Seungmin to see him watching you. “Hmm?” 
“Something’s wrong.” Seungmin doesn’t ask, he states.
You don’t say anything and this causes Seungmin to move closer towards you, grabbing your hand. 
“You weren’t pranking me were you?” Seungmin asks. “Your ex actually did text you.” 
You just nod your head and show him the text messages from your phone. You watch as a wave of anger washes over his face before turning towards you, locking your phone and throwing it gently towards the side. 
“I’m sorry.” You blurt. 
“What are you sorry for?” 
“For always pranking you, it’s not..I mean I just…I don’t know. I guess I thought they were funny but…” You say turning your face away from Seungmin but Seungmin’s fingers gently turn your face to look back at him. 
“They are funny. I might not show it, but the joy it gives you when you successfully prank me, makes me happy. And besides, all your pranks are completely harmless.”
“I guess so.” 
You watch as Seungmin sighs before he leans forward and places a small kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds. “Why don’t you let me deal with this douchebag of an ex and then we can talk about all the pranks I know you have planned for the members, I’m more than willing to be an accomplice.”
“Yeah?” 
“Oh yeah baby, the two of us together? The boys are not gonna know what’s hit them, and let’s just say, it’s gonna be amazing.” 
Yang Jeongin
Your ex texting you had been completely out of the blue. Your relationship had ended because of the fact that he was moving, needing to move countries because of work and you couldn’t because your own responsibilities kept you where you were. 
So your relationship ended on mutual terms. Over time, the two of you did end up losing contact with each other, simply because of time differences and the fact that you had found someone new. 
You had been at the boys practice, having finished work for the day, you decided to drop by and watch them. And although you and Jeongin weren’t heavy on the pda, it was obvious that Jeongin needed you there. Not saying it out loud but sending you a smile and a squeeze to your hand was all it took for you to stay longer than orginially planned. 
It was while the boys were dancing that you recieved the text from your ex. 
The conversation with your ex went as so:
Ex: Hey Y/n, haven't spoken for a long while now. I’m currently back in Seoul and was wondering if you wanted to meet up?”
You: Oh Minjun! How have you been? It’s been what, 3 years since you’ve last been back to Seoul?” 
Ex: Yea, it’s been awhile. But the company has been quite successful and they’ve made a branch here in Seoul, I was made to move with it, and oversee it all.
You: Wow, that’s amazing, I’m proud of you.
Ex: Thanks! So about that catch up? What do you say?
You: Yeah of course! Just let me know what you're free and we can sort something out.
You and your ex organise a time and date to meet, you're so engrossed in the conversation with your ex that you don’t even realise that the boys are on a break and that they’re currently trying to get your attention.
“Y/n!”
Your name being yelled causes you to look up and you notice all the boys, obviously taking a break have sat all around you and are looking at you. 
“Yeah?” You smile at them all before looking over at Jeongin who was calling your name.
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past couple of minutes.” Jeongin says. 
“Oh sorry Innie, Minjun texted me and I’ve just been making plans with him.” You respond, grabbing Jeongin’s hand and bringing it onto your lap, showing him the messages between you and your ex. 
“How’s it going so far?” You turn to the boys as Jeongin reads through the messages. 
“It’s going, that’s all I can really say at the moment.” Chan speaks for the rest of the boys who all nod their heads. 
“Well I know you all will get there, I mean, you always do.” 
Jeongin hands you your phone back, not saying anything as you continue to talk with all the boys.
“Ok, I know we all noticed it but I’m gonna be the one to say it.” Jisung says, interrupting the conversation you were having with Felix. 
You turn to Jisung with a raised eyebrow, “noticed what?” 
“Jeongin.” Jisung points towards him. 
“What about him?” You asked confused.
“I’m not the only one right?” Jisung ignores your question and asks his own. 
The other members all nod their heads. You turn to look at Jeongin but don’t notice anything wrong with him. 
“What’s wrong with Jeongin?” You ask again. 
“Ever since you mentioned at Minjeon? Minjin? guy, and then letting Jeongin read the messages the obviously happened between you both, Jeongin’s had his jaw clenched and a far off look on his face.” Seungmin finally answers you. 
“Oh Minjun? He’s my ex, he just texted cause he wants to meet up.” You smile, completely oblivious. 
“Your ex? You ended on good terms then?” Chan asks. 
You nod your head. “Yeah, he had to move countries because of work but I couldn’t leave home because of school and work. So we both decided to break up. He’s currently back in Seoul, for the first time in 3 years, just texted me and asked if we could catch up.” 
“What else did you guys text about?” 
“Oh he just mentioned about going to the cafe where we had our first date, it ended up becoming one we went to all the time.” You smile at the memories. 
“He also called you pretty and that he couldn’t wait to see you in person. Said he missed you a lot.” Jeongin speaks for the first time. 
You turn towards him with a confused look. “He didn’t call me pretty but he did say that he missed me and wanted to catch up.” 
You look at all the other boys and notice them glancing at each other. “I’m sorry, have I done something wrong?” You ask nervously.
“No love, it’s just that, he was your first boyfriend right?” Chan smiles at you. 
You nod your head, “yeah, he was my first and then i’ve been with Jeongin ever since.” 
“Alright well, from what I’m getting here, your ex doesn’t have a new partner?” 
“Not that I know of. But we haven't spoken in a while, so maybe.” 
“Okay, so let’s say he doesn’t, and from the look on Jeongin’s face after he read the messages. Your ex was trying to flirt with you.” 
“What?!” You exclaim in shock. You quickly grab your phone and read through the messages, realising that it did indeed look like your ex was flirting with you. 
“Jeongin I…I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. I wasn’t flirting with him, I promise.” You quickly rush to explain. 
Jeongin doesn’t say anything, just clenches his jaw. With a nudge from Chan, Jeongin speaks. 
“No baby, it’s alright, I know you weren’t flirting with him. I was just jealous I guess.” Jeongin reaches over and brushes some hair away from your face, letting his hand rest on your face. 
You reach a hand up and grab Jeongin’s one that was resting on your face. You smile at him before speaking. “I can cancel my hang out with him if you want?”
“No baby, you don’t have to do that on my terms. I know you were looking forward to catching up with him.”
“Yeah, but you’re obviously uncomfortable about that and I would rather just not go.” 
“Why don’t you just text him and make it clear that you’ve got a boyfriend? You can still go and hang out with him, just as long as he knows you're taken.”
“Taken but the most amazing guy ever.” You grin, a toothy grin at Jeongin.
Jeongin laughs under his breath a little before leaning forward and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you," he mumbles into your head.
“I love you too.” 
Plus a little extra of the boys looking at your both with heart eyes. 
“Omg they’re so cute.” 
“I know right, like can you believe we raised him to be like this.” 
“Yeah and Y/n, what a cutie.”
“Ahh I just wanna squeeze their cheeks.” 
A slapping sound can be heard as Minho looks down at Felix, Jisung, Hyunjin and Changbin who were fangirling over the two of you. 
“They're obviously having a moment, leave them alone.” Chan says. 
“Exactly, Jeongin’s very private when it comes to his relationship with Y/n, let’s just leave them alone.” Seungmin says. 
“Awww, but they’re just so cute.” Felix whines. 
“Yeah! Even you all must admit that this is just so heartwarming to watch.” Jisung says. 
“Maybe it is, but let’s leave them to it alright boys.” Chan says as he rounds the pouting boys up and walks them out the door. 
As all the boys leave, Chan and Minho linger in the door, a soft smile on both their faces. 
“They are really cute though.” Chan says to Minho. “Makes me want to wrap them up and protect them both from the world.” 
“I know how you feel, come on your old man, let’s get these kids some food. Then we’ll bring some back for the two lovebirds.” Minho says with a small smile on his face as both he and Chan leave both you and Jeongin in the dance practice room to spend some time together. 
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orionsangel86 · 4 months
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About Dead Boy Detectives getting renewed or not. I know people may have cast judgement on this show already, or maybe watched the first ep and deemed it not for them for various reasons (the first ep is a bit clunky and full of exposition) but I promise you, hand on heart, that if you watch the series through to the end it will have you hooked.
If you are generally a fan of fantasy genre shows, loved Supernatural, Good Omens, The Sandman, and all those CW shows that were so popular back in the day, then I promise you I PROMISE YOU you will LOVE Dead Boy Detectives.
If you're still indecisive about it, not sure you want to commit to a show that may get cancelled again, or are generally put off by a show about teenagers (though NGL these are CW style teenagers aka twentysomethings lbr) then I beg you to give it a chance.
If you were a Lockwood & Co fan who is still bitter about its cancellation and views DBDA as a glorified replacement, I promise you are wrong. The premises for the two shows are actually very different. I've seen both and DBDA is definitely worth your time.
It keeps getting better and better every episode and by episode 7 you'll be so blown away you'll be desperate for another season, just like EVERYONE who has watched it through.
I havent yet come across a person who watched the whole show and came out thinking eh it was alright but nothing special. No. EVERYONE who watches it to the end raves about how wonderful it was.
PLEASE give it a chance. PLEASE watch it through. Its such a good series and it deserves renewal.
Please spread this post, please scream about DBDA as much as possible. Please encourage your friends to watch it.
This show is an absolute precious gemstone in an ocean of mediocre television. Please give it a chance
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blossomingmoonlight · 7 months
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⭑ Undercover ⭑
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Well I've officially written my first one-shot, a smutty one nonetheless and I hope you like it. I noticed that there are like 0 fics/one shots of daddy Tim Bradford so I took it upon myself to write one.
summary: I used some of episode 7 season 4 where Tim goes undercover and uhm things happen between you.
Warnings: +18, MDNI, vaginal, creampie, handjob, making out, tim having a sir kink, tim being hot as fuck.
Words: 3.7K
tim bradford x fem!reader
It was the early morning of yet another exciting Monday on the job. Only this time you’re annoying yet hot training officer Tim Bradford wasn’t your training officer anymore. Finally you had freedom, even though it felt strange and almost sad even to not ride with him anymore it also felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders. You were deep in thought making your to go-cup of iced coffee when a familiar voice pulled you out of your thoughts. 
“Well good morning, you’re awake early.” Jackson grinned in the hall leading to his room. He had been your roommate for about 2 years now and after the academy, joining the LAPD out in the real world, called for a friend who knew what you went through. “Yes of course! It’s our first day of freedom. I’m planning on making it the best day ever so I’m going to be on time and prepared. I don’t want my first day to be a failure, I need to prove to Tim that I don’t need him anymore.” You responded to Jackson while pouring the hot coffee over to the to-go cup. 
“You know you don’t need to prove yourself to Tim, he knows how good of a cop you’ve become. I mean I get it but still, today will be great. I just know it.” Jackson said as he walked up to you and gave an encouraging pat on your shoulder. “So no coffee for me?” He asked, pretending to look sad as he watched you add the ice. “Sorry, sorry I’ll make some for you too.” You laughed. When you finished up Jacksons coffee as well you two walked out to your car and headed to the station. 
After changing into your uniform you headed into roll call while also pretending not to look for your ex-training officer. You took your seat, now in the second row, and talked excitedly to John about the next phase in your career. Some time passed and everyone had taken their seat, Tim as well, but you pretended not to notice his grumbley voice in the early morning. Something you came to appreciate over the years working with him. However you quickly shut up when sergeant Grey walked in. “Good morning everyone, let’s begin today with congratulations to our rookies who are now P2’s. Good job officer Nolan, West and (Y/L/N) it’s not every year that all the rookies pull through. However this new found freedom without your T.O’s does not mean that you’re off the hook, you’ll still be monitored only you now call your own shots. That would be all for this morning, good luck out there.” Grey finished and you smiled at Jackson and John who were both seated on either side of you. 
When you walked out of roll call you caught a glimpse of Tim walking behind you and joining you at your side. “Just because you’re not my boot anymore doesn’t mean that you can slack off now, understood?” Tim lectured as he looked at you sternly. “Of course sir, I wouldn’t dream of it.” You responded with a slight smile, you couldn’t help but think he needed to lecture you one last time before you went out on your own but just as you were about to point that out to him Jackson joined your “conversation”. “(Y/n) we should ride together today, already got it approved by Grey.” Jackson smiled. “That sounds great Jackson, let’s grab our gear.” Jackson agreed and you wished Tim good luck today as you headed to grab your gear. You and Jackson then set up the shop and left to go out on patrol. After a couple of calls that were fairly timid you drove yourself and Jackson to the food trucks nearby where your fellow officers were already enjoying a well deserved lunch. The day went on pretty swiftly with nothing major other than a robbery in a convenience store. When the suspect was processed you got called over by Lopez wanting to talk to you about a woman allegedly adding tiger blood in her skin care line and asking if you could join Tim in interrogating her as you were always good at getting a confession out of suspects and Tim could use a hand. 
You accepted the challenge and headed over to the interrogation room where Tim and the woman would be. The door creaked as you opened it, Tim’s eyes on you as you entered the room and stood beside him. “I’m officer (Y/L/N), I will be asking you some questions, Mrs Carter is it?” You asked the older woman sitting opposite of Tim. “Yes, but I don’t understand. Officer Bradford is already questioning me.” Mrs Carter almost sneered, clearly she wasn’t happy with the situation. “Well Mrs Carter I am here to uh... learn, I haven’t been on the job long and need some experience, so I hope you won’t mind.” You quickly answered, glancing at Tim who was standing next to you, looking a bit annoyed. “I understand that you recently started your own skin care line?” You asked her while skimming through her file. “Yes we’re a small operation but we’re growing.” She smiled proudly. “We’re hoping to get a write up in Goop.” She continued. “I-I don’t know what that is.” Tim looked at you confused. “I’ll explain later.” You told him, putting the file down. “A friend of yours gave us your night cream, she claimed that it contains tigers blood, like, literally blood from an endangered animal.” You stated. “Firms the skin right up.” She smiled, as if this was completely normal. You almost gasped at her quick confession and looked surprised at Tim before you pointed out, “Participating in the endangered animal trade could land you in jail for up to five years.” 
“You don’t understand the wellness game. It’s cutthroat. I need to stand out. How else am I gonna compete with Sloan and her vitamin business? I mean everybody knows that her B-12 rejuvenation pills are just benzos in fancy bottles.” She mused while crossing her arms. Tim gave you an astonished look, which you returned. “Um, she’s selling psychiatric drugs?” You asked the woman. “Oh, the whole ‘westside buffet.” Mrs Carter shrugged. “What’s Sloan’s last name?” Tim exhaled, knowing that this was going to be a dragging one. After some time you and Tim found the woman Mrs Carter had talked about and she was brought in the interrogation room where you two waited for her. 
“Take off your sunglasses, ma’am.” Tim sighed at the woman with the big round sunglasses while she was crossing her arms. “Do I have to? These fluorescent lights give me vertigo.” She asked, annoyed. “Okay well that could be the least of your worries. We’ve been informed that you’re selling psychiatric drugs as a vitamin.” Tim continued. “Who said that?” The woman scoffed, now taking off her sunglasses. “Doesn’t matter.” Tim cut her off. “I’m helping people. What’s the problem?” She expressed. Tim rolled his eyes. “You can’t prescribe a controlled substance without a medical license.” You told her. “My husband is a doctor, it's the family prescription pad.” The woman said as if it was obvious. “Yeah that’s not a thing.” You objected, you could feel that Tim was over it. “Look I don’t think you’re hearing me, this makes you a drug dealer.” Tim explained, now getting more irritated. “And given the circumstances a pretty high level one. You could be looking at twenty years in prison.” He continued. “What?! No, no, no, no, no. This whole thing has gotten terribly out of hand. Who ratted me out anyway?” She stuttered. “It was Aston wasn’t it? She’s been trying to break me down ever since I stole her portrait painter. Like she needs to be hung on a wall. You want a real crime to chase? Aston’s trying to hire a hitman.” She claimed almost proudly. “Wh- What do you mean?” You asked her confused. “Her husband's worth more dead than alive, so she’s been on the dark web trying to hire someone to kill him.” She smiled. You and Tim both sighed and looked at each other, this was bigger than you thought. The both of you knew what you had to do, so with permission from Grey, Tim would go undercover as a hitman to try and get the woman to say word for word she wanted her husband dead. 
After you got the equipment sorted in the van you waited for Tim to arrive in the parking lot with the Mercedes as the setup vehicle, while the van you were in was parked next to him. You heard a car arrive and opened the door of the van to greet Tim who was now parking the car. “Okay, oh... that’s your disguise?” You asked him smiling, he looked like a completely normal man, not at all like a criminal. “This is what real hitmen look like.” He scoffed as he now stood in front of you. “That is not the point. Come on, get in.” You said ushering him inside the back of the van. He sighs while stepping in the van, sitting down as you climbed in as well, closing the sliding door behind you before you took a seat close to him. “What I’m wearing is fine.” He claimed. “Okay, third rule of undercover work. Know your audience. You are not trying to fool another criminal. You’re trying to fool a woman who gets her ideas about crime from Lifetime movies. Put it on” You explained as you hold the black blazer out to him. “Fine.” He said as he almost ripped the blazer out of your hands. “Thank you.” He removed his open zip up hoodie and instead put the blazer on. “Oh my god.” He scoffed, knowing he looked ridiculous. “Yeah, that’s much better.” You smiled. “I look like an idiot. I’d pull me over in a heartbeat.” Tim sighed. “Exactly, because you look the part.” You said while handing him the earpiece. “Alright mic me up, let’s get this over with.” Tim said as he raised his shirt, revealing his toned abs. You tried to play cool but couldn’t help taking a peek as you peeled the back of the sticker part of the mic off and reached over to stick it on Tim’s chest. “It's a little too high.” Tim said as you stuck the mic on him. “I know what I’m doing.” You said slightly annoyed. You checked the mic and waited for the woman as she should be at your location soon, so Tim moved over to the Mercedes, while you moved so you could listen in and record their conversation. 
After some time the woman pulled into the parking lot and Tim stepped out of the car. She pulled up next to him, turned off the engine and rolled down her window. “You made sure you weren't followed?” Tim asked her as he leaned down near her window. “Yes. I drove around in circles for like half an hour.” She said with a smile on her lips. Tim then entered the car as you watched closely, the thought of his toned abs still in your mind. “So, how does this work?” The woman asked curiously. “Well, that's up to you. Your ad indicated you have a problem with your husband?” Tim started. “Yes. I need him to not be alive anymore.” She told him. “Hm, that’s not gonna be enough. We need her to spell it out.” You told Tim in his ear piece. “Do you want it to look like natural causes? A suicide? Homicide?” Tim continued. “Must be a lonely kind of life being a hitman.” She flirted. “It can be.” Tim tried to answer her neutrally. “So you’re not seeing anyone?” She asked. “Oh my god. She’s hitting on you.” You laughed in Tim’s earpiece. “No, not at the moment.” Tim confessed. “You see the thing is the fee varies depending on the method, so I need you to tell me what you want.” Tim tried to press on, only the woman seemed interested in something else. "Ooh. What I want changed a little when you got in the car.” She flirted while putting her hand on Tim’s that rested on his knee. “Wait, is she touching you? She’s touching you, isn’t she?” You laughed again through his ear piece, enjoying this a little too much while Tim is a bit stumped but stays in character. “Look I am down to do whatever you want.” Tim said. “Yeah you are.” You chuckled softly in the ear piece. “I just want the business out of the way first.” Tim continued. “So it’s 20.000 for a straight murder, 25 if you want it to look like suicide.” “Sexy, I’d pay you twice that to kill the bastard.” She said while leaning in a bit. “And the bastard is?” Tim smiled. “My husband obviously.” The woman smirked. “Yes, got her.” You said in Tim’s earpiece. “You know once he’s dead, I’ll be a very wealthy woman.” She smiled. “You’re under arrest.” Tim said while holding up his badge. Finally you got her, so you called for backup on the scene so the woman could be taken to the station in a police car. Tim walked back over to you, you still being in the back of the van. “Well great job we got her.” You smiled as you took off your headset and let Tim in the van. “She really was thirsty, my god.” He said while closing the sliding door behind him and getting in to remove the blazer. You sat across from him secretly watching, hoping to get another glance at his toned chest. Tim lifted his shirt to remove the mic and handed it to you. 
“What is it?” He asked you, shit he caught you. “What- Nothing I- I just waited for you to hand me the mic!” You stammered out, a deep blush creeping on your skin and on the tips of your ears. “Really? You didn’t want a show?” Tim grinned, clearly amused by your embarrassment. “No I did not! What are you even talking about!” You scoffed now looking away from him, but still close enough for him to see your blushing features. “I saw you looking earlier, I don’t blame you.” He said looking you up and down. You were in your own clothes as you weren’t on patrol and you were wearing a white sundress with pretty blue flowers all over it. You looked down at your lap shyly. Then you felt Tim coming closer and he grabbed your chin to make you look at him. “(Y/n) are you attracted to me?” He spoke softly, with his sultry voice. “What- no I wasn’t even- no I don’t- I don’t know... maybe?” You stuttered now your face was really burning, not only from the embarrassment that you were attracted to your superior officer but also from the touch of his fingers on your chin. “So you are.” Tim smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. You however still looked away from his piercing blue eyes, knowing that once you gave in, you couldn’t look away. “(Y/n) look at me.” Tim instructed, grasping your chin a bit harsher but not as to hurt you. You gave in and looked at him, at his handsome features, his stubble, his pretty eyes and his perfect hair. He was almost too much, and the smell of his delicious cologne wasn’t helping either. 
He looked directly in your eyes as well and leaned in closer, the tips of your nose touching, lips a breath apart. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest and your breathing became heavier. After a moment he closed the gap between you and claimed your lips with his. His lips were even better than you could’ve ever imagined, soft and pillowy but slightly chapped as well, which for some reason made them even better. As you kissed him back you felt like your entire body was on fire, you moved your hands from his knees to his neck, holding on for dear life, feeling if you let go, you would lose him forever. He moved his right hand to your cheek while the other pulled you in his lap by your waist, now moving his right hand on your hips as well. The kiss got more heated and his tongue prodded at your bottom lip, begging for entrance, you let his tongue in and met his with yours. At that moment you couldn’t help but let out a tiny whimper between kisses. He softly groaned against your lips and his grip on your waist got tighter, he moved you to be right on his groin and gave your hips a squeeze as if asking you to start moving. And you did, you couldn’t not move, the moment was almost overwhelming as you started moving right on his hard on. Your underwear grew wet and you started moving feverishly against him, and then you moved right over his tip causing him to moan in your mouth. His hands moved from your hips to your ass and he started to move you harder against him, the movements alone could make you finish. The fabric of his jeans and the hardness of his erection hitting your clothed clit perfectly. But much to your disappointment he stopped you. 
“Sweetheart if you want me to finish already you should continue.” He smiled against your lips. “Let me make you feel even better first.” He whispered as you feel his hands moving from your ass to the inside of your thigh, slowly creeping towards your covered clit and moving his thumb over your bundle of nerves. You let out a loud gasp as he touched you, holding onto his biceps when he moved his fingers inside of your underwear. “Fuck you’re so wet for me. All because of me huh?” He murmured in your ear. He moved his fingers right over your clit, pressing a bit harder to see how you would react. You moaned at his touch. “Tim... please just- touch me, please.” You begged, already high off of his movements. “Maybe I won’t, maybe I like it when you beg for me.” He sighed against your ear, ever so slightly moving his middle finger over your clit. “Please just please touch me.” You continued to beg, needing any kind of release. “Please what sweetheart?” At his words you knew immediately what he wanted to hear, something that you realized he might have loved to hear you say for a long time. “Please touch me... sir.” You almost moaned in his ear. He groaned at this and started moving two fingers right over your wet clit. “Good girl, always knows how to address her superiors.” He breathed in your ear, you could feel him hardening under you even more. He then moved his two fingers inside you, your wet cunt almost sucking them in out of need. 
As he fingered you the sound of your wet pussy, your moans and pleas and his heavy breathing could be heard vividly in the otherwise quiet van. “Yes, yes, please sir, please I’m so close.” You moaned in his ear, begging for release. At your words he sped up his fingers, curling them up and hitting that perfect spot inside of you, finally giving you mercy and letting you cum. “Good girl, that’s it. You gonna come for me sweetheart? You gonna cum on my fingers?” He ranted in your ear as the walls inside you contracted while you came, trying to not scream for the whole world to hear. “Oh my god, please I need you inside me Tim.” You begged him, wanting nothing more than to be filled by his big cock. “I’m on birthcontrol so just please fuck me already.” You pleaded, moving your hand to pull down the zipper of his pants and reaching inside his boxers, giving his cock relief. “Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you.” He groaned against you. You removed his dick out of his pants and moved your hips right above him, sliding your soaked underwear to the side so you could slowly sink down on his aching cock. You both moaned at the feeling and you almost immediately started moving after you grew accustomed to his big size. Holding on to his neck you began moving up and down the noise of his snapping hips on yours and your moans filling the van. He then moved the top of your dress down causing your braless breasts to spill out, which Tim decided to knead. After a few moments he moved that same hand to your ass, under your dress and smacked it hard.
“Oh fuck... oh fuck, you feel so good sweetheart, keep moving just like that.” He grunted, completely enthralled by the feeling of your tight pussy around his dick. “You feel so good sir, just- so- fucking- good.” You moaned as you started moving faster, feeling another orgasm approaching. Tim wanted to fuck you even harder and moved you to your seat so he could put your legs on his shoulders and fuck you deeper which had you screaming in seconds. “Fuck! Tim! Yes! Please, faster, harder please!” You screamed, holding your thighs against you chest so Tim could fuck you deeper. He did as you asked and moved faster and rougher against you, seeking his own high. “Fuck baby I’m gonna cum, you gonna cum for me?” Tim moaned, moving his thumb to your clit and rubbing it in sync with his movements which made you snap, an overwhelming orgasm overtook you as you moaned his name, walls contracting tightly around his cock. The tight feeling of your wet pussy around him caused him to cum as well, filling you completely with his seed as he moaned your name. After some seconds of calming down he moved to sit down next to you as you felt his cum dripping out of you
“Jesus Christ, we need to work together again huh.” Tim chuckled.
“Definitely” You sighed contently.
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Well christ that took longer than I thought but I hope you liked it, let me know what I should write next!
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bengals-barnesbabe · 2 months
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mrs. burrow blurb…
825 words for anyone wondering
◎ 。 ゚ ❁ ゚ 。 ◎ * You've been drooling at your phone for hours (10 minutes) just waiting for your stud of a husband to get home from practice.
All your social media has are pictures, videos and gifs of your man just owning his practice look- well his Bengals gear. But no one should look that damn good at work, unless they're getting paid to. And last time you checked he was getting paid to throw a ball and run away.
"Baby!"
You jolt up from the couch to the sound of Joe's voice coming in from the garage.
"Where are you gorgeous?"
"Living room!" You respond with a smile in your voice.
You see him before he sees you, of course considering he's 6 '4 and 220 lbs of fine ass man. He comes in decked out in his "lady killing" gray sweat shorts and a tie dye muscle shirt with his practice bag swung over his tan broad shoulders.
"Well don't you look comfy." He chuckles nodding at your current state of being wrapped in a blanket like a caterpillar in its cocoon.
You smile unwrapping yourself and standing to your much shorter stature, not that it's ever been a problem for him. "You look like you want every woman within 100 miles to start ovulating."
He snorts and rolls his eyes before pulling you into his arms for a strong yet soft, comforting hug.
"I missed you." He mumbles into your 3 day twist out.
"You smell heavenly, oh I missed you too." He pulls back a bit with a blush heating his cheeks.
You chuckle as he composes himself. "I don't know what's going on with you today, but I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."
Then dips his head to press his lips to yours. You hum sweetly into the kiss and rise to your tiptoes to reciprocate the gentle motions.
He pecks your lips once more before pulling back and smiling.
"I baked today." You beam.
His brows quirk up. "Oh yeah?" You nod and lead him to the kitchen. He sits at the counter as you place a cake plate in front of him, then lifts the translucent glass to reveal a sweet lemon Bundt cake.
"Wow."
You bite the bottom of your lip while cutting him a piece then handing it to him along with a fork.
"Thank you mamas." He says then takes a bite out of your homemade creation. You watch intently as he closes his eyes and throws his head back with a moan.
"Do you like it?"
"Oh yeah, fantastic. You did your thing baby." He responds, finishing the rest of his cake.
The joy you feel as the man you love cleans his plate is incomparable. Well you could compare it to the lust you feel when his body engulfs yours in any and every way.
Like when he walked in from an 8 hour practice looking like straight sex on legs. You'd never know how sexy a bleached buzz cut could be until he waltzed in that day.
There's nothing better than a man that just gets better with age.
"Babe?"
You shiver at the tone of his voice as he wakes you from your daydream. You lock eyes and let out a deep breath.
"Fuck, get me pregnant."
He steps down from the stool and smirks. "I think we already have that covered."
Still entranced in his beauty, you pout then feel a warmth around your midsection. You look down to see his hands rubbing on your bump, because you're 7 months pregnant. Which is why he said he was glad you were feeling better, because ever since your 3rd trimester started you've had more downs than anything.
"Babygirl must be having a quiet day if you somehow forgot about her." He jokes. You chuckle and place your hands on top of his.
"I didn't forget, I must've fallen asleep after baking. Then you walked in and I couldn't think of anything else." Then as if she was being summoned, your little girl starts to kick against his hands.
Joe kneels down and kisses your stomach. "I guess she was just trying to give her stunning mama a little break. Ain't that right Deya?"
"Deya?" You tilt your head amusingly.
"I've heard 'who dey' so much today, it's stuck in my head. I just wanted to try it out. What do you think?" He rose to his full height.
"Like Adeya Burrow? It's cute, we can put it on the list."
"Yeah?" He smiles. You nod.
"The list is getting pretty long though, we're gonna have to make a decision soon."
Your husband takes your hands in his and brings them up to kiss them. "We have time, but I think we have our two finalists."
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀
Turns out you didn't have as much time as you thought. At exactly 35 weeks, your twin girls Adeya and Ariel Burrow, were born. A surprise but the most loved and adored surprise they'd ever had.
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lackadaisycats · 7 months
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Hey Tracy! Have you heard about the new Ai called Sora? Apparently it can now create 2D and 3D animations as well as hyper realistic videos. I’ve been getting into animation and trying to improve my art for years since I was 7, but now seeing that anyone can create animation/works in just a mare seconds by typing in a couple words, it’s such a huge slap in the face to people who actually put the time and effort into their works and it’s so discouraging! And it has me worried about what’s going to happen next for artists and many others, as-well. There’s already generated voices, generated works stolen from actual artists, generated music, and now this! It’s just so scary that it’s coming this far. 
Yeah, I've seen it. And yeah, it feels like the universe has taken on a 'fuck you in particular' attitude toward artists the past few years. A lot of damage has already been done, and there are plenty of reasons for concern, but bear in mind that we don't know how this will play out yet. Be astute, be justifiably angry, but don't let despair take over. --------
One would expect that the promo clips that have been dropping lately represent some of the best of the best-looking stuff they've been able to produce. And it's only good-looking on an extremely superficial level. It's still riddled with problems if you spend even a moment observing. And I rather suspect, prior to a whole lot of frustrated iteration, most prompts are still going to get you camera-sickness inducing, wibbly-wobbly nonsense with a side of body horror.
Will the tech ultimately get 'smarter' than that and address the array of typical AI giveaways? Maybe. Probably, even. Does that mean it'll be viable in quite the way it's being marketed, more or less as a human-replacer? Well…
A lot of this is hype, and hype is meant to drive up the perceived value of the tech. Executives will rush to be early adopters without a lot of due diligence or forethought because grabbing it first like a dazzled chimp and holding up like a prize ape-rock makes them look like bleeding-edge tech geniuses in their particular ecosystem. They do this because, in turn, that perceived value may make their company profile and valuations go up too, which makes shareholders short-term happy (the only kind of happy they know). The problem is how much actual functional value will it have? And how long does it last? Much of it is the same routine we were seeing with blockchain a few years ago: number go up. Number go up always! Unrealistic, unsustainable forever-growth must be guaranteed in this economic clime. If you can lay off all of your people and replace them with AI, number goes up big and never stops, right?
I have some doubts. ----------------------
The chips also haven't landed yet with regards to the legality of all of this. Will these adopters ultimately be able to copyright any of this output trained on datasets comprised of stolen work? Can computer-made art even be copyrighted at all? How much of a human touch will be required to make something copyright-able? I don't know yet. Neither do the hype team or the early adopters.
Does that mean the tech will be used but will have to be retrained on the adopter's proprietary data? Yeah, maybe. That'd be a somewhat better outcome, at least. It still means human artists make specific things for the machine to learn from. (Watch out for businesses that use 'ethical' as a buzzword to gloss over how many people they've let go from their jobs, though.)
Will it become industry standard practice to do things this way? Maybe. Will it still require an artist's sensbilities and oversignt to plan and curate and fix the results so that it doesn't come across like pure AI trash? Yeah, I think that's pretty likely.
If it becomes standard practice, will it become samey, and self-referential and ultimately an emblem of doing things the cookie-cutter way instead of enlisting real, human artists? Quite possibly.
If it becomes standard industry practice, will there still be an audience or a demand or a desire for art made by human artists? Yes, almost certainly. With every leap of technology, that has remained the case. ------------------ TL;DR Version:
I'm not saying with any certainty that this AI blitz is a passing fad. I think we're likely to experience a torrential amount of generative art, video, voice, music, programming, and text in the coming years, in fact, and it will probably irrevocably change the layout of the career terrain. But I wouldn't be surprised if it was being overhyped as a business strategy right now. And I don't think the immensity of its volume will ever overcome its inherent emptiness.
What I am certain of is that it will not eliminate the innate human impulse to create. Nor the desire to experience art made by a fellow soul. Keep doing your thing, Anon. It's precious. It's authentic. It will be all the more special because it will have come from you, a human.
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