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astrobydalia · 2 days

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Aquamarine. Gold. Lavender.Colors of summer... Astro Observations

work by astrobydalia

Your 9th house rules your gandchildren! 9th house is 5th from 5th so your kids' kids.

Also, if you are any of your parent's first kid look at their 11th house to get a glimpse at how they will perceive your fs. (11th house is 7th from 5th, so your first kid's spouse)

^^these are derivative astrology methods so you gotta use whole sign system

The scorpion actually represents the underdeveloped/young version of Scorpio while the developed version of Scorpio is represented by the eagle which to me is analogous to the phoenix. That's why you see an eagle representing Scorpio in the The World card (cause this card signifies fulfillment or completion in tarot)

I think the song 'Part of Me' by Katy Perry really illustrates developed Scorpio energy. Is not resentful or vengeful but rather transformative and empowering, you can't end their spirit just like you can't end a phoenix. Underdeveloped Scorpio energy allows pain, trauma and resentment to ultimately k!ll their soul which turns into self-destruction, think how scorpion's stinger actually points at them (and fun fact: scorpions can actually k!ll themselves when they feel cornered)

Being "different" or an "outcast" is not an Aquarius trait, it's a Leo trait. Leo is all about being yourself, being unique, the one and only and main character energy. Aquarius rules inclusivity, equality, social cohesion, FRIENDSHIP (aka people who get you) and public validation, that's why it is a strong fame indicator. Aquarius energy is relatable to others, its new and fresh, Leo it not relatable because it is unique, it shines among the crowd and burns just like the Sun. Aquarius can be unique too but the main difference is Leos feel ultimately they only have themselves while Aquarius will always have people.

Leos are meant to experience feeling "different" or outcasted because they need to learn to accept and express themselves no matter what, that's why it rules bravery and courage. They often either feel alone in their "greatness" or feel like nobody accepts their real self. Either way its more common for them than for Aquarius to experience loneliness and rejection just like the sun can't never have anything come too close to it

Aquarius does not rule uniqueness per se it rules innovation, authenticity and detachment from the ego. Aquarians that try hard to be different and separated from "most" people are underdeveloped because they're still attached to their ego and this is the n1 thing that kills their innovative potential. Aquarius doesn't do things to validate the self like Leo, it generates ideas on how humanity can better express itself and develop, that's why it rules over technology, science and activism and that's why they're known to be trend setters. Air signs are all about finding common ground, aquarians are not meant to be different from communities or groups but rather find new and authentic new ways to represent them (hence the inclusivity).

All the Gemini Venus I've met were very loyal in their relationships idk what you guys are talking about. They are the golden retriever person that is head over heals obsessed with their partner. It's not easy to get them to commit cus they need someone who has that perfect blend between goofy and mysterious, too much of either bores them quickly. They love in a playful and child-like way so I see how they can be flighty and non-commital sometimes but if they're genuinely intrigued by you oh boy they'll be ALL over you in every way pretty consistently

Harsh aspects (esp square) between Mercury-Mercury in synastry are a no-go when it comes to compatibility. The two people can get along well and like each other if the rest of the synastry supports it but they likely have NOTHING in common. Efforts to try and find shared interests or ideas might be misunderstood or feel forced because there's none 😭. Even if you do have shared ideas or interests, you will have vastly different ways of looking at them because the way in which you both think/communicate always clash so you never really see eye to eye. You can get away with having unharmonious connections between venus or mars in synastry but mercury? Nah.

When it comes to predictions specially, you need to have AT LEAST three indicators for an energy to stick. For example, having just one planet at 29º doesn't mean you're gonna be famous, you need to have at least three fame indicators to even consider fame in chart. Also, I can't stress this enough, you REALLY shouldn't need to dig too hard to find the indicators, they're usually evident and fit into the context of the chart, meaning there are no other things contradicting or neutralizing said energy.

Even though we often look at 7th house for marriage, you are most likely to consider marrying and settling down with people who have their placements in your 4th house and/or 10th house, or you just see them as marriage potential in general. 4th house creates a sense of home, security and familiarity while 10th house synastry points to shared goals, seeing a future together, etc. That's how you'll feel tho, to see if that would happen you gotta check composite chart

If you have fire in your big 3 I just know you love being unhinged and a little wild once you get comfortable

Natives with Venus-Chiron aspects tend to have... questionable taste in lovers or get in relationships that are not so promising (forbidden love, etc). Their love life is always a struggle, they feel like they can't find someone that truly loves them and when they do it's always "complicated". With hard aspects they tend to date people who blatantly suck (abusers, psychos, players, etc). With easy aspects this can happen too but I've noticed they are more prone to attracting people who are alright however deep down are very troubled and/or unavailable individuals so the native tends to be the one to heal or sooth their lover.

Scorpio Mars can have sadistic tendencies... It obviously does NOT have to go that far for everyone, in fact most of them are pretty tame but this placement really gets off on the reactions of others I've noticed. Their n1 superpower is catching you off guard and poking at you psychologically. They know exactly what strings to pull and are very aware of how anything they do or say can trigger and affect others. This can manifest as smart and punchy humor, teasing... or really toxic behaviors. Oh and you do NOT wanna see them genuinely angry 😶 If you have this placement im gonna kindly ask you to please use your powers for good 😭💀

Females with Libra placements could have experienced being 'the other woman' I've seen this a lotttt. Either that or they constantly attract situatioships. They have a tendency to not be taken seriously by the opposite sex, only being seen as a trophy or a pretty face kinda vibe. Unless they also have Cancer energy

Which is interesting to see cause even though Libra rules marriage, the kind of women who are mostly perceived as marriage material by men are Cancer placements not Libra. If you think about it, it makes sense tho cause cancer rules family and motherhood

Water venus people have a very approachable and understanding aura. Very diplomatic and tactful, they'll effortlessly make you feel comfortable around them. Equally accepting of others both in public and in privet, but you'll automatically lose them if you make them feel invaded

Fire venus motto is "it's impossible to impress me.... but let's see you try😏". They purposefully market themselves as hard to get cause they want to see what you got. Will constantly crave interactions with some fun and friction

Earth venus are a lot more harsh, they haven't even talked to you yet but somehow have already decided you didn't make the cut 🥱 Silent observers, they'll have a mental spread sheet of what they like and don't like about you

With air venus you don't want to come off too strong otherwise you'll activate their fight or flight response 🏃‍♀️ You'll never know where you stand with them but if you wanna get closer you need to keep it playful and give them space

Virgo Sun/Mars/ASC like to help others but they do it in such way that is also indirectly self-serving to themselves. Virgos are sidereal Leos, they secretly want recognition for their modesty and want their actions and efforts to ultimately shine back on them

Underdeveloped Pisces Moons are selfish and out of touch. I’ve noticed this placement is painted in a way too innocent light but they can have a nasty shadow too. They will not accept anything that does not conform to their delusional expectations about life and when things don't go their way they’ll isolate in melancholy and victimize themselves using the ‘misunderstood’ card. They can have a really twisted perception of reality, confusing the lines between right and wrong to accommodate their own narrative. Think Thanos from MCU, that character is a perfect example of underdeveloped Pisces Moon fr!! They tend to be very aloof and weaponize their empathy to appear innocent . Can use the “I can understand the world but the world doesn’t understand me” mentality to justify everything they do without ever feeling bad about it.

Another Return that brings a lot of karmic lessons aside from Saturn Return is your North Node return which happens every 18 years (Ages 18, 36, 54, etc)

Gemini risings have a fabricated or fragmented personality. They're often attracted to things like astrology, personality stuff, psychology, etc because it helps them make sense of themselves through abstract concepts. They also tent to define themselves through imitation or comparison like "I do that too", etc. It's very easy for them to convince themselves they're something they're not (gemini rules lies and deception), that's why they're often good actors (Pisces 10th house). They come across as very air-headed cause who they present themselves to be is based on who they THINK and SAY they are vs. how that translates in reality

Based on my life experience and also the responses in astro/observation posts, I've observed Scorpio placements respond relatively well to criticism. Not saying they don't care, but they can handle being villainized quite well because when developed they can have a really healthy acceptance of their shadow side and toxic traits. They also don't mind being misunderstood cause that means people can't pry on their business

CANCER, Libra, Leo and Virgo placements on the other hand are the most sensitive to criticism.... They can't handle not being seen as "the good one" all the time

Most Pisces suns I've met gave off huge xNTJ vibes for some reason like very deep thinkers, silent, sarcastic with a low-key threatening and unapproachable aura. Also VERY elusive and protective their personal stuff, they embodied the "mysterious" Scorpio stereotype fr.

However Pisces sun+pisces venus combo gives much softer vibe, more quiet and doormat-like, you'd think they're high 24/7.

The other bunch of Pisces suns Ive met had a very bubbly and dramatic personality. Can be emotional in a really performative way

Libra Mars people are SMOOOOOTH. Not only with their words but also their mannerisms, how they move and do things in general. You'll never see them triggered or stressed, they make everything look so effortless

The Pluto in Scorpio generation (millennials mostly) were the ones who started this mental health awareness wave. All this concern with anxiety, depression, mental and personality disorders was started by them. They’re the ones who started putting focus on the deeper effects of the dark psychology (Scorpio).

All the people that have scared me and traumatized me deeply for life had planets in my 12th house with no 8th house synastry in sight whatsoever…

>>> In my experience 8th house synastry is only intense in the moment but eventually you get over it fast once you stop entertaining the person/situation. It might be hard to let it go tho cause the connection is intense and this person will leave a lasting impression, but once it’s done that person is forever dead to you. 12th house synastry on the other hand is giving "I fight with you in my sleep", 12th house feels harmless at first but it deals with themes of sorrow and shame. It lingers and haunts you fr. Let’s remember that Saturn, the planet of permanece and lessons, finds its joy in the 12th house…

8th house venus/juno is NOT a sugar baby indicator imo. As per my observation, it is actually the 8th house native that ends up making a lot of money and their spouse/partner benefits from the native's income and success. I swear every person I've seen with these placements had "we could hang out in my yacht if you want😉" as their main flirting technique LMAO. Their own power (8th house) is their main source of seduction and attraction (Venus/Juno)

I believe 2nd house Venus/Juno is more indicative of sugar baby energy. They want that spoiled good life with little effort even if that means being financially dependent on someone else or using family's money

In contrast I've noticed 8th house placements are not really like that, they have a HEAVY entrepreneurial spirit. Super ambitious individuals

With that being said, be careful if your have natal 8th house placements (specially Venus, Moon, Juno, 7th house ruler), cause the people you bond with WILL benefit from YOUR income and success. That's why these natives are prone to experiencing betrayal, cause if you surround yourself with the wrong people they'll take what they want from you or cause chaos in your life and then leave, so use your intuition!!

With 2nd house energy you are good at keeping your resources and income safe, but this means they can lose value if you don't use or invest them eventually just like food goes bad if it just sits in the fridge. With 8th house energy you are prone to loss, debt, loans and other financial risks where you either lose it all or gain lots and lots of money, the all or nothing nature of plutonic energy.

I bet any virgo placement can relate to being a little bit of mess but something I’ve seen in particular with Virgo risings is they are surprisingly sloppy?? You really wouldn't in a million years think so given how they always end up presenting good results but once you know them deeply you notice they often miss out on important details in the process or get so caught up with short-term things that they miss the big picture. Either way, they often look like they got it all together but they constantly improvise a lot more that what it looks like in the surface

Aquarius Mars is a placement I've seen A LOT in celebrities, specially well-liked ones. They attract people to them just by existing, they don't even have to try too hard

I’ve noticed a lot of critically acclaimed actors have air moons

Sagittarius Part of Fortune have a vibrant and fun spirit, you can’t never kill their vibes but they can tend to be immature. It’s like they’re completely oblivious to anything serious

Libras are people pleasers due to a hidden inferiority complex (sidereal virgo)

work by astrobydalia

#astrology #astro #astro observations #astro notes #zodiac #birth chart #astrobydalia #astrology observations #astro community

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zoe-oneesama · 2 days

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So is the "don't remember names of daughters" a tsundere thing from Audrey or she does it unconsciously???

(also idk if you answerd this alredy but what about Zoe's dad?)

It's def not a tsundere thing, it's an Audrey thing. It's also a thing that I cannot for the life of me justify? It'd be one thing if she got her daughters mixed up with each other, with them looking on the surface similar (blonde hair, blue eyes), and having close enough names, like she did in "Adoration"...but she called Chloe "Casserole" at one point.

Hilarious, sure, but like, wtf Audrey, how do you even fuck up that badly?

And one more time for the cheap seats, this is in no way my explanation for Audrey in canon, this is purely SL's Version of Audrey. I cut out her ordering around the Butler and Andre and left out her falling for Chloe because Chloe was being an asshole to the same Butler, and obviously we never got as far as she did in "Revolution" where she was in near happy tears when her Mayor Daughter went full dictator on Paris. Just like Lila, I cut her off at the knees before she could become her true awful self, but that does not reflect on how I feel about the canon characters.

I made Audrey a tsundere to give Chloe a freaking chance.

#I could rant on the terrible evolution of the tsundere archetype in anime #but since this show likes to *occassionally* pull inspiration from anime (on like the most basic of surface levels)#it felt apt to apply it here #sl ask #sl:audrey

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kryptonitejelly · 2 days

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art donaldson x childhood friend reader who he hasn’t seen in a long time (whose had a crazy glow up) visits him at stanford at the same time as patrick and patrick starts hitting on her (him and tashi are in an open relationship) and art gets jealous.

(maybe she tells patrick she knows he’s in a relationship and he tells her tashi wouldn’t mind and she would probably be down to join idk)

art donaldson x reader // challengers // fluff; happy ending

a/n: i did not hit the prompt on the head 100%, but i’m not mad at it. this ended up turning into a monster i had no control off and ended up being alot longer than i expected (i haven’t done a word count, and did not mean for it to spiral into this but i enjoyed writing this very much). i am an art donaldson defender and this is my way of giving him everything he deserves (i hope you guys can see what i subtly tried to do in places - please leave comments/reblog if you see them, it would mean the world). also i typed this entirely on my phone without proofreading - you’ve been warned.

edit - as a disclaimer, i do not purport to comment on the victim/villain/any dynamic in the challengers universe. this space is purely for delusional thoughts and fiction only (see also)

Good luck.

Art shoots the text off to you before taking a swig out of cup of diet coke he has in hand. He leans forward, his forearms on his knees, teeth crunching on ice cubes as lets his gaze sweep across the court in front of him. It is devoid of players but already has the umpire and linesmen ready and waiting.

You’ll buy dinner if I win?

Art doesn’t expect to get a text back, so he checks his phone absently, but his face breaks into a tiny grin as he sees your reply. Most other players would have been hyper focused in the moments before a match but you, in the breezy light hearted way you always were, still had it in you to joke around.

Yes, but if you lose…

Art sends his response, the tiny grin still on his face.

I’ll feed you.

Your reply is fast and it makes art shake his head lightly a quiet chuckle dropping from his lips. He is just about to type another reply but is interrupted by the loud cheers that erupt from around him. Art looks up from his phone to see Anna Davies walk out on court in the same colour red as he had on. He claps politely with the rest of the men’s team who he was sitting amongst in the stands, in a show of support.

Art catches sight of Tashi and Patrick, both perched a few rows down from him with the rest of the women’s team both clapping and hollering in support. He notices the turn of Patrick’s head, no doubt to check in on Art but he doesn’t tilt his head or smile back in acknowledgement as he usually would - he is far too distracted by you.

Art can feel his jaw slacken slightly as you walk on court. He knows what you look like, but you in the flesh - Art thinks you are breathtaking. Your top is in a shade of your college’s colour, paired with a white tennis skirt that shows off a pair of toned, long legs. He catches a glint of metal just above your ankle, and he finds himself squinting in a feeble attempt to make out the look of the ankle bracelet that you have on. Art moves his gaze your face, taking in what he can see from his perch on the stands as you walk out towards your designated bench on the court, bright neon green bottle in hand, your tennis bag slung on a shoulder.

You had been close back home for most of your childhood and more formative teen years, and the both had kept in touch since he left for Stanford and you to your own school of choice, but too infrequently - the occasional text, more frequent reaction or comment on each other’s social media and the small conversations that spiralled from those interactions - like two planets orbiting in the same solar system, but not close enough. Life had overtaken, the excitement of moving your separate ways to a new environment, of college - tennis, academics, people, parties, it had overwhelmed you both, individually and together - made you just about forget that you had each other.

Art is transfixed. You are, lithe, glowing and with a hop in your step - Art finds himself questioning why he had never made more effort to keep you closer since you had both gone on your separate paths. He watches as you settle your bag on the bench, turning your gaze to the stands, eyes narrowing from the glare of the sun as you search the stands, only for your gaze to fix on his. Art sees you smile, lips turning up as you wink directly at him. It makes a series of heads turn to look back at him - your fellow team mates, the small group of supporters from your college who had come along, and the Stanford women’s team plus Patrick, half curious, half puzzled. Art can only raise a hand beside his chest in greeting as he remembers to breathe, letting the air he had been holding in his chest out.

He sees turn away while reaching for your phone which you had wedged in between the band of your tennis skirt and skin. Your fingers flying over the keypad briefly before you toss the phone into your tennis bag, hand fishing out your racket. Art feels his phone buzz in his hand and he looks down at the text that had come through.

Stanford still hasn’t taught you the right way to wear a cap huh.

Your text, a reference to his penchant for securing his cap on backwards, makes Art laugh, out loud, the sudden sound causing his team mates to crane their necks in attempt to look at his phone. Art swats them away as he refocuses his attention back on you, watching as you do a few hops, shifting your body weight from side to side before walking to your position on court, racket in hand. You lose the coin toss, and Anna choose to serve and yet your demeanour is one of ease, something Art can’t help but think is so stark in contrast to Tashi before a match. You aren’t smiling anymore, and yet in an unexplainable fashion, Art can feel you smiling as you bend to ready position, your hands flipping the handle of the racket around, poised to receive. He sees Anna toss the ball, her back arching, hand shooting up, before she connects her serve, and he watches you receive it with ease, your body moving in a smooth motion as you hit it back. Your strokes have their own weight and intention behind them, they are careful, thought out - but what surprises Art is he sees little calculation behind each. Instead, he watches as you let yourself feel each shot, as you let your instinct take control with each step. Art sees himself moving pieces of chess across the court when he watches replays of his game, but with your game, - Art manages to see colour, life, ease. He sees something he hasn’t seen in his tennis since he had last played with you, Art sees fun.

The match isn’t long drawn out, you win - effortless, just as each of your strokes and movement are. It frustrates Anna, as is evident from the increasing number of unforced errors she makes on her art which leads to her swearing loudly as she easily hit the last heavy, driving it quick and to the opposite corner of the court from where she is positioned. Art finds himself clapping enthusiastically along with the crowd as the umpire calls the game.

“You never told me you had such good looking friends,” Art feels an arm sling itself around his neck, pulling him close as he stands outside the court, waiting for you to finish your match debrief with the rest of the team.

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” Art questions as he tugs himself out and under, away from Patrick’s hold. His eyes remain focused on the door of the tennis court, waiting for you to emerge.

“Some strategy meeting,” Patrick offers as explanation, “refocusing or something like that.”

Art starts to say something in response only to be stopped by the view of you walking out from the courts. You both lock eyes, not too similar from how you had with you on the court and him on the stand. Art thinks that your smile is more brilliant up close.

Neither of you say a word, as you walk up to him, hands reaching up to tug his cap off his head only for you to pop it promptly on your own head, the right way around.

“The right way,” you say in greeting, pointing towards his cap which is now sitting on your head, the Stanford red a confusing contrast to your your top, now a loose fitting tshirt in your college colours, as Art chuckles while running a hand through his hair, attempting to shake out any flatness.

“The red looks good on you.”

“Perhaps I should transfer.”

“Didn’t peg you for a traitor,” Art teases which makes you laugh.

“Do I get a hug,” you ask, both of you oblivious to Patrick who is just watching.

“C’mere,” Art says, his words inviting, but just almost slightly shy as he opens his arms to you. You step into his embrace, arms slipping around his body as Art brings his arms around your shoulders, hands bumping into the tennis bag you have on your shoulders. His embrace is familiar, and you let yourself relax into his hold.

“Could I get a hug?” you hear a different male voice chime in and you pull away to look curiously at the brunette who is standing just beside you both.

“Fuck off Patrick,” you hear Art say with no bite, but notice as he steps just that one inch in front of you in an attempt to place himself as some sort of barrier between you and the brunette.

“Patrick Zweig,” the boy says, ignoring Art as he proffers a hand to you which you shake to be polite while introducing yourself.

“Do you go to Stanford as well?” You take in his attire of jeans and a white tee, the lack of red - you would guess not but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“I’m just visiting,” he says, “I’m actually playing on tour.”

“Losing on tour,” Art corrects.

“Your tennis is insane,” Patrick comments, ignoring Art, “when will I see you on tour?”

“I don’t intend on turning pro,” you respond with the flash of a smile.

“Why?” Patrick continues the conversation, now slightly befuddled, “you’re a natural.”

You shrug with a laugh, not answering and simply brushing off his question.

“Why don’t I take you to dinner and you can tell me why.” Patrick’s statement makes Art roll his eyes.

“Aren’t you taking your girlfriend our for dinner?” Art chips to which Patrick simply shrugs not phased in the slightest and answers with a no.

“Thanks, but I already have a dinner to cash in on,” you offer Patrick a smile, before glancing at Art.

“I’m sure Art wo-”

“Nope, fuck off Patrick,” is what Art says again, not even giving the other man a chance to finish his sentence. It makes you laugh, but you follow as Art grabs your hand, tugging you off in a direction away from Patrick.

“It was nice meeting you Patrick,” you call out, turning your head towards him giving him a wave with your free hand, “good luck on the tour!”

You walk for a minute or two more until the tennis courts are out of range before Art stops. He lets go off your hand, but reaches instead to grasp the top of the tennis bag on your shoulder. You raise a brow questioningly only to have him tug again with a slight tilt of his head. You relinquish the bag to him and he hoists it on his shoulder instead.

“What a gentleman,” you joke, but with a smile on your face.

Art does a mock bow with a flourish of his hand which makes you laugh with a shake of your head.

“Your chariot awaits my lady,” he extends a hand to you, waist still tilted in a bow, but his head up and looking at you.

“Lead the way,” you place your hand on top of his again.

“My car is that way,” he says jerking a thumb towards his right as he intertwines his fingers with yours. Its the second time in the day where he’s holding onto your hand but you don’t think too much of it and neither does Art. It feels right, comforting, familiar and like it’s supposed to be - and you go with it.

“Sorry about Patrick,” Art says as he fiddles with the paper casing of the straw. You are both sitting in a booth, plates cleared, your drinks left in front of you. Art is leaning back but being across him you can feel his knees knocking into yours. Dinner had gone by way too fast for Art’s liking. There had been both plenty to catch up on, as well as new information to learn and yet - it had felt like no time had passed between you both.

“He’s a bit of an ass isn’t he,” you say as you lean back, a mirror of Art. Your comment elicits a bark of laughter from him.

“Girls don’t usually say that about him.”

“What do they say?”

“Well not say, but they usually fall at his feet or into his bed,”

“No,” it makes you crinkle your nose while you shake your head.

“His girlfriend Tashi,” Art says, fingers still fiddling with the wrapper, “we played tennis for her number, she chose him.” Art said referencing the tennis match between him and Patrick. His sentence is blunt, to the point, and yet manages to be vulnerable at the same time. Art surprises himself as the words slip out from his lips so easily but it feels easy to tell you, safe to let himself be vulnerable, fine to let you view him for who he truly is.

You both sit in silence for a beat or two, the only sound between you both being the rustle of paper in Art’s fingers.

“Well,” you begin, “if she made you play for her number, maybe its for the better you didn’t win.”

Art’s fingers give pause and he looks up at you. His expression is unreadable, but you don’t feel like you’ve said anything wrong - just the obvious.

“I guess you are right,” he says after a few seconds of silence, before raising his head to look at you. There is a small smile on his face that you can’t quite place.

“When have I been wrong Donaldson?” You challenge in jest as you lift a leg under the table to jostle one of his lightly. Art leans forward, managing to capture one of your legs, your calf in the warmth of his palm.

“You really want me to start?” Art questions as you wriggle your leg in attempt to get away but no no avail.

“No.”

“Let’s see, the time we were six and you thought that the way to get strawberry milk was to dump pink food colouring in normal milk.”

“Stop,” you protest, but with a laugh on your lips.

“Or the time we were ten and you were convinced that the park we passed by on the way home from school was haunted and we had to sprint past that stretch of sidewalk for 3 whole months.”

“It was creepy!”

“How could we forget the one time we were thirteen and you thought that the way babies were made wa-”

“Arthur Donaldson,” you protest, managing to wrestle your leg out of his grasp which has grown looser with each anecdote. It allows you to set your foot on the ground, body shooting up to lean across the table, your palm coming to cover Art’s mouth to prevent him from announcing any further recollections from your youth.

You can feel his breath hot against the palm of your hand as his muffled laugher fills the space of your booth.

“Art,” you huff, relinquishing his full name for his nickname again. You move to drop your hand from his face, but Art catches a hold of your wrist. You sit back down, butt hitting the seat again, but with your hand still stretched across the table, wrist still loosely wrapped in one Art Donaldson’s hand. His shoulders are still shaking, now with a silent laughter.

“Art,” you try again.

“I’m sorry, it’s just so funny,” Art exhales, trying to collect himself as best as he can. He doesn’t remember the last time he laughed like this, freely and with such reckless abandon over something so innocent.

“Your dedicated court jester, always here to serve,” you mock with a roll of your eyes.

“You’ve been derelict in your duties,” Art says, now calm, but his eyes still twinkling under a mop of strawberry blonde hair. He keeps his tone light but what he really means to say is that it has been too long. You chuckle, not really having an answer for him.

“It’s been a while,” you finally admit, both your hands now resting on the table between you, you wrist now lying upturned in Art’s open palm. You had always been close

“It has, hasn’t it,” it isn’t really a question. Art has missed you - something he hasn’t realised until today. He had let himself be distracted by the complex, focused toxicity that was tennis, Patrick and Tashi, letting himself get sucked into the whirlpool, that he had forgotten to hold on to the things that grounded him.

“Maybe we should change that.”

“We should change that,” Art corrects you and you can feel the tips of your ears burning, and the skin across your cheek bones tingling for some reason.

You aren’t quite sure how ended up here, but one thing had lead to another as you both made your way out of the restaurant and back to Art’s car, and the next thing you knew you were heading back to his dorm to watch reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer for some reason.

“How do you not find her hot?” You ask again for the tenth time as you both focus on the screen of Art’s laptop which is perched half on his thigh and half on yours. You are both sitting on his bed, shoulder to shoulder, both of your heads damp from (separate) showers in Art’s ensuite, and you smelling quite like him from having used his toiletries and borrowing a short and shirt set, both of which which were a baggy fit for you.

“I don’t know, I just don’t.”

“You’re rubbish Donaldson,” you snort, nudging your elbow lightly into his ribs with a simultaneous yawn.

“Tired?” Art asks, as you stifle another yawn.

“Yeah,” you accept, seeing little point in trying to hide it. You had after all, played a match today.

“I should really get back to the hotel,” you mumble, the back of your head leaning against the wall beside Art’s bed, eyes closing.

“You could just stay here,” there is a hint of hesitation in his voice because he isn’t sure if you’ll stay.

“Here?”

“My bed’s a double,” Art shrugs, “it would also be quicker for you to get to the matches tomorrow.” You aren’t playing but Art knows you would be expected to show up as a supporter for the series of matches between your two schools that continued tomorrow.

“Are you sure?” You don’t mind, after all - it’s Art, the boy you had known growing up, shared milkshakes and apple slices with after school, but you wanted to be sure he was truly fine with it.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Art moves to shit his laptop, lifting himself to bend over the edge of the bed to place the laptop on the floor, “you can take the inside.”

He flops down on the outside of the bed that is further from the wall too easily, his right hand going behind his head. Him moving forces you to move in tandem as you flop down on Art’s left, legs scrambling under the covers which Art has somehow managed to worm his way under in the flurry of movement.

Art reaches a hand over, his arm extending over you in the process to hit the light switch that he has beside his bed. It plunges you both into darkness, the only light the faint glow from the street lamps creeping in from below his curtains, and the glow of his digital clock.

You flip onto your right side, eyes closed, missing the turn of Art’s head as he observes yours features, closed eyes, lashes, nose, lips, finding his gaze lingering a moment too long on your lips.

“Stop staring Art.”

“Am not.”

“I can feel it,” you respond, lips curving into a smirk. It was a habit he had developed from the sleepovers you both had either in his living room or yours when you were both younger. You would close your eyes, just about to doze off, only to hear the faint shifting of a head against a pillow while Art turned to stare at you, his blue-brown eyes boring into you.

“Am not.”

“Go to sleep Art.”

“So I guess I’ll see you around,” You are standing just a distance off the side of the bus which is supposed to take you back to campus. The matches for the day had ended, with your school having won by one match.

“Yeah,” Art replies, drawing out his words as he takes you in, he finds himself think that he had very much preferred you in his clothes despite them being oversized and not as well fitted as your own. You had managed to change into a fresh set of school colours before the matches started earlier that morning, having pleaded with your angel of a roommate to help you lug your overnight bag, which you hadn’t even had the chance to unpack the night before, over to the courts before the matches had begun. She had taken one look at you in Art’s tshirt, shorts with his hoodie thrown over, and had given you the widest smirk known to man despite your insistence that nothing had happened.

“I think you are scheduled to come play next month,” you refer to the Stanford men’s team, “I’ll see you then?”

“Or I could see you next week?” Art says almost shyly as he raises a hand to rub the back of his head. Art was a walking oxymoron, easily grabbing your hand, asking you to sleep in his bed, and yet somewhat bashful in the moments in between, “the drive over is an hour, max.”

“I would like that,” your response earns you a mega watt smile, his eyes twinkling at you. You both hear voices calling Art away from the bus, one male, one female - but Art ignores them both.

“Yeah and I told her-” your sentence is cut off by a nudge to your shoulder.

“Stanford” you friend explains with slightly too much glee in her voice. She had seen the smile on your face after returning from your away game last weekend, and the way you had been constantly glued to your phone, grin on your face, laughter peppering your days, the name Art Donaldson a constant fixture in your notifications.

Your head swivels up and to your left to spot Art leaning against his black jeep, hands crossed loosely across his chest. He smiles when he sees you, and your face mimics his expression.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” you friend calls out as she pushes you in Art’s direction. You pull a face at her while rolling your eyes, but letting your legs carry you towards Art.

“Are you stalking me Donaldson?” You ask in jest. Art had texted you half an hour earlier, asking which part of campus your last class of the Friday was in and where he should pick you up from.

“Hundred percent,” he says as he opens his arms; you step into his embrace for a brief hug, before he turns to open the car door for you. You unload your bag from your arm, dropping it onto the floor of the passenger’s seat before climbing in. You move to close the door, but Art is in between you and the door, reaching over to click your seatbelt into place.

“Ready?” He asks, and you nod, gazing into bright blue-brown eyes.

“Positivism,” Art says simply at your question of what theory of jurisprudence he found himself most inclined towards. You think for a moment, the side of your face propped up with a hand, elbow on the counter of the bar you both are seated at, your body turned towards Art who is likewise, facing you.

“Positivism,” you roll the words around your tongue, “I guess it tracks,” you shrug, before raising a brow slightly, “but how does an engineering undergraduate so much about jurisprudence?”

“I read.”

“On jurisprudence?” You frown nose wrinkling as you reach your hand out to place the back of it against Art’s forehead as if to check if he had a fever, “are you alright?”

“You mean you don’t read engineering daily in between sets?” Art questions you with mock horror as he reaches up to tug your hand down from his forehead. Your hand ends up, yet again, in Art’s, which is resting on his knee.

“Why engineering, and not something with a lighter course load?” The underlying question is clear - Art had every intent of going the pro track post-Stanford, and it wasn’t that he would be making full use of his degree anyway.

“I don’t want the only skill I have to be hitting a ball with a racket,” he shrugs, “it feels good to know I can do something else.”

You hum in bother understanding and agreement as you feel Art’s thumb begin to stroke the back of your hand. It distracts you, his calloused thumb sliding across your skin.

“In another life I’m sure you would have made a darn good engineer Art Donaldson.”

Your words make Art laugh, something he found himself doing a lot with you.

“So, this is me,” you point towards the dormitory buildings up in front and Art slows his car to a stop, pulling the gear into park. He kills the engine before hopping out of his seat. Your hand is on the handle of the door, ready to open it for yourself but Art is faster, his hand on the outside lever, pulling the door open for you.

Art offers you a hand as you hop out of the jeep before he shuts the door behind you.

“I had fun tonight,” you find yourself saying, suddenly feeling slightly shy for reasons you cannot fathom.

“Me too,” is what Art says in response, his hands stuck on the pockets of his jeans, heels rocking in a back and forth motion. You see his gaze on you, locking with yours before flickering to your lips. It makes you bite down one on side of your lip, an action which causes Art to gulp, making the Adam’s apple on his throat bob.

“We should do-”

“Can I kiss you?” Art blurts out his question in a burst and you can see his face flush slightly as he asks, a surprising and yet apt contrast to the Art who had no qualms about holding your hand in his. You feel your heart quickening, and with the silence between you both - you almost feel as if you can hear each beat.

“Yes,” you breathe out, a small nod accompanying your response. You see Art’s gaze flicker to your lips again, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this.

Art takes a step forward, pulling his hands out of his pockets. You feel him cupping your face gently, and you tilt your head towards him. Your eyes flutter close and your lips meet.

Art’s lips are softer than you imagined. You feel his hands move, slipping down the sides of your body, circling your waist and pulling you closer. You drop your bag off your shoulder onto the floor as your hands move up, one to cradle the side of his face, and the other reaching behind, fingers weaving into soft curls as you tug him closer towards you. First kisses with someone new had always been awkward for you - teeth, lips, noses, as you each try to figure out the grooves and crannies of each other, but with Art - there was no such thing. It felt as if you both had learnt each other long ago, each in and out, the curve of his neck, and the the planes of your body.

You break the kiss first, pulling away, eyes still closed, feeling as if the breath had been knocked out of you in the best way. Your forehead pressed against Art’s, body held firmly against his.

“I hope you aren’t going to send me packing after that.” Your eyes flutter open at his words.

“You packed an overnight bag didn’t you?”

“I might have,” Art pulls you even closer, his arms wound tight around you.

“Presumptuous much?” You run a hand through the front of his hair, pushing his fringe back.

“Just good at reading the room.”

12 years later

The skin across your knuckles are visibly tight, your hands clenched into fists, the only sign of the nerves that have taken over and riddled your body. Your eyes are shielded by dark oversized glasses, but your pupils are darting left and right as the final point of the match plays before you. The stadium is silent, save for the pop of the ball and the grunts from the two players on court. You hear an exceptionally loud grunt, the whizzing of a racket whipping through the air, and then you hear it before it hits you - the roar of the crowd, the thundering claps, and you feel your body freeze as even the announcer goes wild.

“Art Donaldson, ladies and gentleman, our new US Open champion.”

You remain glued to your seat despite the commotion around you - family, Art’s team, cheering, jumping, excited hugs being passed around. Your eyes watch as Art runs towards the center of the net, hand raised as he waves to the crowd around. He shakes his opponents hand, before waving to each section of the stadium in thanks of their support and there he is, jogging towards you. His hair is dripping with sweat, plastered to his head, shirt clinging to his body. He extends a hand to you even before he reaches the sideline and your body reacts from habit, standing, your hand extending back towards him. A warm hand, the back of it still slick from sweat grasps yours, tugging you forward lightly.

“Hi,” is all he says as Art’s lips meet yours. Art enjoys the tennis, but he doesn’t need it - doesn’t need the tennis, the fame, the money, or the trophies - all he needs is you.

You hear the crowd go wild at the display of affection, the announcer’s voice booming over the sound system with something about Art Donaldson and his wife, but it all fades - the commotion, the sound, the people, the tennis, because all you see is Art.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#art donaldson #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x y/n #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson x female reader #challengers #challengers fanfic #challengers fic #challengers imagine #not cm #not tg

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hoshifighting · 2 days

Note

heyy i hope you’re having a great day/night ✨

i was wondering if u could do an ot13 reaction to the reader having a tattoo on their booty cheek that represents them

ex: 🍒 for scoups and 🍊 for seungkwan

thank you and take care 🫶🏾

Seventeen's reaction, when you get a tattoo on your booty cheek, representing them.

Seungcheol: When Seungcheol sees the small cherry tattoo on your ass, he smirks, eyes darkening. "A cherry, huh? Just for me?" he murmurs, tracing the ink with his fingertips. The possessiveness in his gaze is unmistakable. He grabs your hips, pulling you close, and whispers in your ear, "Now, I have to make sure everyone knows who this belongs to." His touch turns rougher, spanking your ass lightly, "You're gonna remember this every time you see that tattoo."

Seungkwan: Upon seeing the cherry tattoo on your ass, Seungkwan blinks in surprise, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Oh, really? You went and inked my favorite fruit right there?" he chuckles, his eyes gleaming with delight. "And only for my eyes, huh? How flattering." His touch is mischievous and teasing, fingers running lightly over the tattoo, "Can't wait to show you just how happy this little tangerine makes me."

Jeonghan: When Jeonghan sees the delicate angel wings on your ass, a symbol of him, he chuckles softly, tracing the lines with his fingers. "You really did this for me?" he asks, his voice amused. "Guess I'll have to reward my angel properly," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin. he makes sure you feel every moment of his appreciation for the tattoo.

Joshua: Joshua's eyes widen slightly at the sight of the small cross (or deer, idk) tattoo on your ass. "Oh my god! Y/N what is it?" he asks, his gentle demeanor doesn't stop him from gripping your hips tightly, pulling you against him. "Interesting choice of placement," he purrs, his fingers tracing a slow path around the inked design. "And just for me, huh? How flattering." he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

Jun: Jun's reaction is immediate and intense when he sees the cat tattoo. "A cat? For me?" he says, he chuckles, maybe not believing. He wastes no time, his hands rough as they caress your skin. "You're gonna regret teasing me like this," he growls, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses and bites over the tattoo.

Hoshi: Gets, REALLY turned on, and you know why. Hoshi's eyes light up with mischief when he spots the small tiger tattoo. "A tiger for your tiger, huh?" he teases, he grips your ass, squeezing it firmly, but also with care with the tattoo. "I'm gonna make you roar tonight," he promises, chuckling. (He would also accidentally end up talking about it in a circle of friends when he was drunk. – he could even cry, depending on the alcohol level in his blood.)

Wonwoo: Wonwoo for a moment can't believe you did that, he even thinks it's a fake tattoo, as he runs his fingers over the tattooed skin. "You're crazy..." "You really are something," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin. – Now loves every position where he can see the tattoo on your ass.

Mingyu: His reaction is a mix of surprise and arousal when he notices the tattoo. "You got this tattoo just for me?" he chuckles, but the playful tone quickly shifts as his eyes darken. "You’re so naughty," he says. He leans in, biting the skin around the tattoo lightly, making you gasp. "I'll have to show you how much I appreciate it," he whispers, his hands sliding over your body, making sure you know exactly how much the tattoo turns him on.

Woozi: Woozi's eyes widen when he sees the musical note tattoo. "You didn't..." he asks mouth opened, with flushed cheeks. His hands are delicate, pulling you against him. "Guess I'll have to play you like my favorite instrument," he whispers, kissing your neck.

Minghao: "Now, I know you're a bit impulsive, Y/N," Minghao whispers, his words half-teasing, half-admonishing. "But a tattoo, really? You do realize it stays on your skin forever, don't you? And just for me?" The slight scold is tempered by his shy giggling, a sign that any faux exasperation is just for show. He touches the tattoo, his touch soft and tender. "It does look beautiful though, and knowing it's a mark just for me...well, it's cute."

Seokmin: As Seokmin takes in the tattoo, his eyes grow wide with surprise and excitement. He gasps dramatically, his mouth forming an exaggerated "O" shape. "Oh my goodness! It's so cute!" he exclaims. He playfully reaches out to touch the tattoo, giggling uncontrollably, his touch delicate and playful. "I can't believe you actually got this cute cherry! It's the most adorable thing ever!" He jumps up and down, unable to contain his joy and enthusiasm.

Vernon: He reaches out, tentatively touching the ink, gently pressing his fingers against your skin to see if it's real. You wince slightly, the sensation of his touch registering on your skin. His eyes widen in surprise and disbelief as he realizes the tattoo is indeed real, and that you have marked yourself with it for him. "Oh my gosh…you actually did it," he whispers in disbelief.

Chan: As you and Chan enter the bathroom, because 'you needed to show him something'. You lower your pants, revealing the tattoo on your ass. Chan's eyes widen, and he inhales sharply, before he can respond, he bites his knuckles, a quiet gesture of shock. He quickly turns away, allowing himself a moment to process the sight before him.

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pnsteblnme · 2 days

Text

final(s) week ✿ a.r.

pairing: alessia russo x fem!reader

summary: even though you're insufferable, your girlfriend helps you get through finals week (this one is for everyone who’s getting their asses kicked by their exams cause like same <3 but i’m crossing my fingers for you!!)

warnings: school, swearing, stress?, a bit angsty maybe, very self-indulgent :)

word count: 2.5k

a/n: first of all, i'm very sorry for disappearing from writing for like almost a year 🥹 i had my finals and barely had time to eat, let alone write but i only have one more to go so i hope i’ll get to write more in the future! i also have a few requests in my inbox that i’ll try to work on (sorry that you guys have to wait this long) and lastly, i don’t know anything about studying architecture so idk if the things happening here are even remotely close to the truth 😜

“Fuck!”

A few sets of eyes turned at your exclamation as you bent down to pick up the things you’d knocked over during your side squats.

Across the room, Alessia watched with a sympathetic look as you shook your head and grumbled in annoyance. She knew that you’d been stressed out because of your upcoming finals and was almost used to seeing you in a bad mood.

Of course, she understood that majoring in Architecture while pursuing a career as a professional athlete was challenging. What she hadn’t expected was for you to almost crumble in on yourself.

The closer the deadlines came, the less you smiled. When the team had bonding night, you stayed home and worked on your project. When Alessia came home from said nights (she only went because you insisted she go), you were still working and would continue to until you were on the brink of falling asleep.

The agitated frown on your face became a constant. With the end of training, you’d hurry home and dash into your study, only coming out to have a rushed dinner with your girlfriend.

The bags under your eyes turned shades the night sky was jealous of. Every time Alessia tried to coax you into doing something to take your mind off of things, you insisted that you couldn’t waste time that was better spent on your project.

So, most nights the blonde lay in your shared bed, worried frown etched onto her face as she prayed that you wouldn’t overwork yourself. Reaching out her fingers, she felt like there was more than distance between you.

Sure, she could feel you twisting and turning on the other side of the bed but you weren’t there, at least not really. Your mind has been all over the place, constantly jumping from task to task, and you two hadn’t had a real conversation in weeks.

A nudge on Alessia’s arm broke her out of her thoughts as Leah raised an eyebrow, “What’s got her knickers in a twist?”

Letting out a concerned sigh, the striker opened her mouth to answer, eyes still focused on you across the room, when an Irish accent filled the air.

“Yeah, Less, ye not treating the missus right?” Katie teased as she ruffled Alessia’s hair, who rolled her eyes and shrugged the smaller woman off.

Finally tearing her gaze away from you, the blonde turned towards the two, “I’m really worried about her,” she breathed out, fiddling with her fingers.

Leah smacked the back of Katie’s head when she noticed that this was troubling Alessia. “What’s going on?” the blonde questioned in a softer voice.

Sighing Alessia’s eyes travelled back towards you, “It’s finals week in her uni and she’s been working like a dog, day and night, spending every last minute either here or trying to finish her projects. She refuses to believe it but it’s been taking a huge toll on her and I just don’t know how to help.”

Leah and Katie shared a look as they watched the striker’s shoulders drop. They had noticed you gradually pulling away from the team, never joining them on nights out with the excuse of having to do things for school. Initially, everyone believed that you just didn’t fancy the idea of socialising, knowing that you were a rather introverted person.

“I don’t think there’s much you can do except be there for her and make sure that she takes care of herself. Or take care of her yourself when she doesn’t,” the blonde advised as she placed a gentle hand on Alessia’s shoulder.

Katie nodded, “Yeah, maybe you can distract her a bit.” She nudged your girlfriend’s side with a wink, adding in a whisper, “If ya know what I mean.”

Alessia rolled her eyes, threw her head back with a groan and stormed off, not before calling out a ‘You’re unbelievable!’ at the two women who were left cackling.

At the end of the day, everyone found themselves in the changing room, packing their things and getting ready to go home, before meeting at Beth and Viv’s for game night. So, even though all of the girls were exhausted, elated chatter bounced off the walls as the anticipation of an evening full of competitiveness grew.

You had just finished showering and started throwing your things into your bag when a body collided with your back, arms being wrapped around your neck and legs trapping your waist. Your breath got caught in your throat before you realised that only one person would do this.

“Kyra!” you exclaimed in an agitated tone as your eyebrows furrowed and you tried to pry her off of you.

The mischievous laughter in your ear only irritated you further, proving to be an obstacle in your plans to get home as soon as possible to be able to work on your projects. “You wanna be partners later? We’ll destroy everyone,” the Australian grinned as she rocked back and forth.

“I’m not coming,” you huffed out as you still struggled to get her off your back, “Now get off, Kyra!” You loved that girl from the bottom of your heart but your bad mood was starting to worsen with every second that passed and you had to do everything in your power not to snap at her.

“What?” she asked, slowly sliding down to stand on the ground and turning to face you, “But we’re the Beyond Lunacy Buddies!” the brunette said, holding your shoulders and shaking your body. “And you already missed the last one,” pouted Kyra.

Your knuckles turned white with the way you were clenching your hands, “Not everyone can sit on their ass and play games the whole day,” you scoffed, ripping yourself out of her grip and zipping your bag. You knew it was wrong of you to lash out at her like that but at that moment everything you could think about was how this interaction was wasting time you didn’t have.

The strict schedule you’d designed barely left you room to breathe and you were determined to follow it down to a T so that you’d get good grades. You didn’t even know why you were so desperate to excel in every task you got, still having your career as a footballer if you didn’t graduate with flying colours. Maybe it was for the slim chance that your parents finally said they were proud of you. Maybe it was to prove your classmates wrong, although they always had something to say, no matter what you did. Maybe it was to prove to yourself that you weren’t a failure. The reason didn’t matter in the end because you were intent on finishing the things you started.

“Geez, don't be such a gloomy Gus,” Kyra’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as you quickly grabbed your things and hurried to your car before you had time to regret your words.

Worried eyes followed your disappearing form as everyone wondered what happened to your usually kind and bubbly self.

Slamming the door shut and dropping your bags next to the shoe rack, you grabbed your headphones from the kitchen counter and made your way into your study, closing the door behind you. You turned on noise cancellation and clicked play on your favourite playlist as you began ruffling through all the sheets spread across the desk.

The ideas for the model house and the concept of the mall had been ready a long time ago but the realisation of those ideas wasn’t as easy. Already having done the foundation of the house and more than half of the drawings for the mall, a good portion of the task was done but that didn’t make it any less draining.

You didn’t know how many hours had passed as your headphones died and you were finishing one of the last blueprints while you held a wall of the model, waiting for the glue to dry. When your pencil accidentally rolled under the table, you carefully let go of the wall before you leaned down to pick it up.

After grabbing it, you lean back up. A loud bang fills the air as you bump your head against the table. You rub the back of your head with a wince when the sound of a slight crack follows.

“No, no, no,” you whisper, quickly sitting up and seeing exactly what you were afraid of. The wall you’d been holding came crashing down. Leaning back a bit to check if anything else was damaged, you noticed that in your hurry to sit up, you’d creased a few blueprints on your desk.

The pencil you just picked up was flung across the room as your vision blurred. You could hear your heartbeat thumping in your ears, your hands started shaking, and your breathing picked up.

Shaky hands smacked your forehead while tears were making their way down your cheeks. “You’re so fucking stupid,” you grumbled with a trembling voice, each word accompanied by another smack to your head.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you muttered, hands now tangled in your hair in frustration as you felt a sob bubbling up your chest, opening your mouth to gasp for air as it felt like your throat was closing up.

Gentle hands grabbed your wrists and intertwined with your fingers. “Hey, it’s okay,” whispered Alessia with a soothing voice as she squeezed your hands.

So absorbed in your frustrations, you hadn’t even noticed that your girlfriend was already home. As soon as you saw her standing next to you though, you felt like you could breathe again. Her mere presence calmed you down drastically.

You slowly raised your head to look at the blonde and when she saw your tear-stained cheeks, she immediately pulled you up from your chair and into a tight hug. Even more tears trickled down your face as you were engulfed in Alessia’s perfume and the overwhelming warmth that came with her hugs.

Sobs racked through your whole body and you clenched your fists into the back of the blonde’s t-shirt, hiding your head in her chest. One of the striker’s hands rubbed slow circles onto your back as the other held your head against her and gently scratched your scalp.

When your sobs calmed down a bit and with your head still buried in the crook of your girlfriend’s neck (because you knew that you wouldn’t be able to string together a coherent sentence if you looked at her), you mumbled with a weak voice, “I- It’s just all too much. I actually thought I could do this, you know. ‘Cause how hard can it be to go to training for a few hours and then build some stupid house and make a few drawings?”

Once the dam broke, the words tumbled from your mouth like an avalanche, “Turns out, if you’re as incompetent as I am, it’s too fucking hard. And I know there are thousands of people out there who have it so much worse than I do so I shouldn’t be whining like this but I just feel like I’m drowning and I don’t know what to do,” you confessed before taking a deep breath.

You slowly loosened your grip on Alessia’s shirt and started pulling away as you whispered with your head hung, “Sorry, I’m just dumping all of this on you, it’s not that big of a deal.” You took another step back, wiping away your tears and clearing your throat, “So, how was game night?”

Before you could put more distance between you, soft hands grabbed your cheeks and pulled you close again, “Stop invalidating your feelings!” You drowned in ocean-blue eyes as Alessia reassured, “It is a big deal and I want you to dump everything on me so we can work through it together.”

Her thumbs grazed your cheekbones, your heartbeat slowly returning to its normal pace, while the blonde continued, “I know finals week is very stressful but you’re more than capable of doing this. I believe in you and so should you! If you talk to me and let me help you, we can make sure that you’re not neglecting your health and that you’re not biting everyone’s heads off at training while you’re building a Dreamhouse even Barbie dreams about.”

Letting out a quiet laugh, you hesitantly nodded your head, wrapping your arms around her waist as the striker added once more, “And just because other people have it worse, doesn’t mean you’re not having a hard time.”

You let out a sigh as you nuzzled against Alessia again, “I’m sorry. For everything. I know I haven’t been the nicest person or the best girlfriend. It’s just felt like my final week rather than finals week,” you chuckle with an apologetic smile.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have everything ready in time. You have three more days to finish this, and on two of those we don’t have training, which means that you’re not working any more today!” the blonde grinned, excited now that the time you two spent at home could actually be spent together.

Seeing Alessia’s smile instantly brought a warm, fuzzy feeling to your stomach as you felt overcome with gratitude. Not only for the fact that she stayed with you and supported you but also for the fact that she tried to understand you.

“God, what would I do without you?” you question, squishing the blonde’s cheeks in your hands as you pressed a feather-light kiss to her nose, forgetting about your deadlines for the first time in what felt like months. “But seriously, thank you for putting up with me even if I’ve been a ‘gloomy Gus’ as Kyra would say.”

“Of course, love,” Alessia answered with a gentle peck, “You don’t need to thank me. But you should apologise to Kyra. While I quite enjoyed a night without her pestering, she seemed very sad.”

You grimaced as you let your head fall against the taller woman’s shoulder and sighed, “I’ll go call her.” Staying in Alessia’s embrace for a moment longer, you reluctantly pulled away from her warmth and started walking to the bedroom.

“Y/N.”

Before you could make it out of the study, your girlfriend’s voice stopped you.

Turning around, you were met with Alessia smiling lovingly at you, eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

“I’m proud of you.”

Hearing those words brought new tears to your eyes as you rushed back into the room and tackled the striker in a bear hug. The quiet groan she let out when your body crashed into hers was lost on your ears when you continuously whispered ‘I love you’ while suffocating her with kisses.

Not even when you graduated top of your class had your parents told you they were proud of you. Not even when you and your team won the Olympics that same year. But you didn’t care anymore because you had a clumsy blonde who’d tell you every day.

#woso #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #woso x reader #arsenal

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aangell333 · 2 days

Note

Okay your Spencer smut might be the best I've ever read, could you maybe do one about Spencer absolutely manhandling reader and just like really rough sex. Idk maybe some jealousy or a bad case and he needs to take his anger out on you, just whatever you want.

And like just really rough with like edging and overstimulation and dacryphilia and just very very rough. And maybe some sweet aftercare or something like that

I'm in desperate need for Spencer to fuck me till I'm cum dumb :))

Thank you <33

my god.

first off THANK YOU SWEETIE THATS TOO SWEET OF YOU!!

second off i’ve given the reader a thing I personally have where I kinda cum prematurely during sex 🫠 this means I get overstimulated really easily so I think it’ll pair with what you’re looking for :)

this is utter filth guys. also I KNOWWW some things are unrealistic but they’re hot so shove it.

so sorry this took so long and that the ending feels super rushed 😭

anyways enjoy!

you knew this was wrong.

hooking up with your coworker simply because this case was beating both your asses and sex wasn’t exactly presenting itself to you as a little pink box with a shiny ribbon on top.

the two of you had been going back and forth all day, snapping and jabbing at each other. theories were belittled and intellectuality degraded; everyone knew one of you was about to snap. they expected you to end up going through the dry wall or spencer out of the window.

they would never have expected to… explode in this way.

it was dirty. filthy. you both knew it.

and you both loved it.

he followed close behind you as you entered the hotel room and the door slammed behind him before his hands were all over you. he grabbed you by the upper arms, tugging you harshly into the wall. you hit it with a thud, your head bouncing off it.

you barely had time to get your surroundings before his hand was closing around your neck.

“do you get off on some sick power play to diminish me in front of everyone?” he hissed. “i’ve been doing this for years. you’ve been here for two seconds compared to my experience.”

“wow, prison sure did harden you up, huh. word from the team has it you were a little bitch before,” you could barely get your statement out before his hand was tightening, having you gasping for air as your airways closed up.

“shut the fuck up.” you would’ve snapped back, if you weren’t distracted by your buttons flying everywhere.

the two parts of the front of your now-ruined blouse were clutched in spencer’s hands. his face was the picture of rage, anger simmering in his gorgeous eyes and his lips pursed tightly.

“you asshole!”

“no. you need to be put in your place.”

you’d never been kissed with such ferocity. his lips smushed against yours, pressing them this way and that. it was messy, almost gross the way your tongues intertwined and saliva dripped. spencer pulled your hair from the crown of your head, harshly pulling your head back as his mouth immediately latched onto the column of your neck.

as he sucked and nipped, he pushed your blouse further off your shoulders the lower he went. your own fingers fumbled with his buttons, trying desperately to undo them. once your blouse was on the floor, he pulled away from you, throwing you onto the bed.

“dumb bitch can’t even undo some buttons?” he hissed, ripping your shoes off as you hastily unbuttoned your jeans.

“god, reid, shut up!” you wined as you squirmed your hips and pushed your jeans down.

“such a mouth on you.” he tutted patronisingly, rolling the sleeves of his half-buttoned-up shirt to his elbows and freeing his belt from his pant loops. “I ought to teach you a lesson.”

he chucked his belt onto the bed beside you before forcefully yanking your jeans off. he then grabbed your wrists in one hand, restraining you as he flipped you over. before you knew it, he was sat on the edge of the bed with you over his knee.

“reid!” you exclaimed as he folded his belt in half.

crack.

“ah!” your yelp sounded more like a moan, your ass stinging red.

the juxtaposition of spencer’s soothing hand and scrutinisingly-sweet voice overwhelmed your senses.

“aww, does the brat not know how to take her punishment with fucking dignity? this is what rude little girls get, you understand?” his tone boiled rage in you.

“fuck you.”

crack.

“ah!”

“count it.” he hissed.

“wha- what?”

crack.

“fucking count it!”

“one!”

“good girl.” his tone was condescending, as if he was talking to a misbehaving child trying to turn their behaviour around.

you counted every crack to your skin, your flesh burning as the belt came down on it. you eventually got to ten, your ass glowing red and cheeks tear-streaked. yet, by the time you got to ten, your pussy was soaked.

your hole oozed slick with every crack and caress that spencer administered to your cheeks. you whimpered in his lap, pressing your face into the comforter of the hotel bed.

“you dick.” you whimpered with a sniffle.

a smack to your hot rear had your back arching.

“i’ll show you dick.” spencer snarled.

he spread his legs, pushing you off of him and onto your knees between his. the stark contrast of your naked body and his fully clothed one was enough to have you grinding in your seat. spencer undid his flies and opened them, presenting his cock straining against his boxers to you.

he once again tangled his hand in your hair at the crown of your head before pulling you into his crotch. you let out a muffled whine, pushing on his thighs, but he held you still. you couldn’t move your face from his boxer shorts.

“lick.” he commanded, but you couldn’t hear him over your struggle. “I said, lick.”

it was degrading the way he had you lapping at his clothed cock like a damn dog. your tongue picked up bits of lint from the fabric of his boxers and the spot where his tip was leaking precum was damp and salty. it was disgusting. you couldn’t help but love it.

when your hands came up to the elastic of his boxers, he didn’t stop you from pulling them down. his cock stood up, taking your breath with it.

what he lacked slightly in girth, god damn did he make up for in length. he was huge, intimidating even.

“the fuck are you waiting for? what happened to the cock-hungry bitch licking my cock a second ago?” his words probed at something inside of you and you curled your hand around his cock, squeezing.

and god did you want to capture that breathy moan and head tilt that he released and keep it forever.

but his mood quickly shifted as his hands gripped your hair and shoved your face down onto his cock. gags, whimpers and tears left you as he hammered his cock into your throat, his pace relentless and bruising.

“god, this shut you up, huh? I should have you like this more often. bet you’d love it if I shut you up by shoving my cock into your mouth in the middle or the office, huh? show hotch and morgan what a slut you are for my cock. yeah? you want that attention?” he was mocking you! god knows what compelled you to hum and nod in agreement. “fucking whore. oh, look at you! fucking touching yourself?”

his cock was pulled out of your mouth, strings of saliva connecting you to it. ignoring your coughs and splutters, he manoeuvred his leg between yours, angling it so his shin rubbed deliciously against your core.

“wha- what are you doing?” you asked him, voice slightly hoarse.

“if you wanna get off so bad, you can hump my leg like the bitch you are!” he laughed.

anger flooded you, your nails biting into his calf and a frown coming over your face.

“no.”

“oh!”

his leg jolting up to meet your core had you moaning loudly. and you couldn’t help yourself. you started chasing that feeling, hips working overtime as you fully humped dr spencer reid’s leg. that was still covered by his stupid pants!

“aww, aren’t you just a needy bitch?” his tone was condescending, mocking as he lazily stroked his cock like you were simply porn material. you shook your head, prompting him to begin bouncing his leg up to meet your core. “come on, tell me what a needy bitch you are.”

“I’m a needy bitch,” you whispered out.

you found your arms wrapping around his leg as you pressed your whole body to him, still humping him.

“louder.” he ordered.

“I’m a needy bitch!” your voice is pitchy and whiny, almost screaming when he begins rocking his leg up to meet your sensitive clit.

you didn’t have to hump for long before you found your core tightening and your breathing becoming more laboured. you whimpered out how close you were, causing spencer to pull his leg from under you. the loss of balance had you falling into his knee, face smushing against the bony structure.

“wha…” you whimpered sadly as spencer pouted down at you with faux-sympathy.

“aww, is the little bitch all sad she can’t cum?” he asked condescendingly, making you sit straight again.

you sat in front of him on your knees, looking up at him with an angry pout. deciding to take matters into your own hands and stop waiting for his every order, you crawled to turn yourself around, revealing your back to him.

“what are you doing, huh?” he murmured.

you didn’t say anything, only lifting your ass up and down a few times as if you were shaking your ass on a dick. you felt it jiggle, looking back at him with a smirk. his pupils were blown and his hand loose around his cock.

“pet…” he warned and you took your chances.

still on the floor, you fell forward and pushed your ass into the air as you manoeuvred yourself into the deepest arch. you whined loudly as you did so, exposing your gooey, drooling hole to him. where you were sat, a wet patch glistened and the thin string connected to the carpet and your hole snapped. you heard spencer sigh shakily and squirmed on the bed. the sound of a zipper going back up sounded, the rustling of a button returning back to its hole.

only that’s where you’re wrong. he wasn’t squirming, he was standing.

three long fingers pushed easily into your hole, making you scream out. he kneeled over you, almost mounting you as he fingerfucked you. he was relentless, curling and uncurling his fingers at an ungodly speed. your slick dripped down his hand, sprayed over his forearm with the force of his movements and squelched loudly.

“trying to tease me?” he draped his body over yours as he hissed in your ear.

you whined pathetically, hips pushing back to meet his hand. he didn’t stop and you felt your orgasm drawing closer.

“oh god! oh god, oh god, oh god, I’m close!” you yelled out, only for his fingers to remove from your body. “wha- reid!”

“aww, I know. it’s hard being teased, isn’t it?” he asked, his tone as condescending as ever. you whimpered as you felt your orgasm dissolve.

and he plunged his fingers back in your pussy, grinning and laughing when you screamed out and your eyes rolled back. his fingers sped up and up and up until they stopped again.

each time you got close, he would stop touching you all together. he knelt over you and laughed as you begged and babbled pathetically. he was practically mounting you, you hadn’t even realise he’d pulled his cock out.

“you wanna cum, baby?” he asked, chuckling when you nodded and babbled pathetically. “of course you do.”

it was that night that you realised, you’d never experienced true pleasure until you had spencer reid fucking you like a madman.

his pace was relentless, bruising and wild. his hips slammed against your already sore ass and his tip bullied your cervix. tears rolled down your face, making him laugh.

“my little toy looks so pretty when she cries! aw, what’s the matter, princess?” he cooed mockingly in your ear.

“feels- feels so- so good…” you could hardly speak, hardly form a thought. it was too much.

you were cumming before you knew it, coating his cock in your cream. he laughed mockingly at you, hand coming down to draw little circles on your clit. you screamed and spasmed, knees giving up on you as you fell to the floor. he held you up by your hips, almost completely suspending your lower half.

“can’t even hold yourself up.” he grunted.

with one arm wrapped around your middle and the other hand at your clit, he chased his own orgasm in a haze of blinding hot pleasure. yet, you were cumming again before he was, your squirt splashing out onto his legs.

“oh, sweetheart! squirting all over me?” he laughed delightedly. “what a good girl. fuck, baby, I’m- hah- I’m close. gonna come inside. gonna- ha-ah- fill you up- fuck- yeah- claim you-”

his seed spilled into you in thick, copious amounts. you felt him fill you, your tummy swelling a little with the amount he was pumping into you.

“thank you, doctor,” you whimpered out, feeling all hazy and fuzzy.

he was panting above you, head thrown back in exhaustion.

“good girl. my good girl,” he murmured breathlessly. “let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

you’d never been pampered as nicely as you were that night.

*~*~*

“ah! spencer! ah!” derek moaned at you, high pitched and over dramatic, as you place his coffee down on his borrowed desk.

you frowned, trying to keep a straight face.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’d rather you kept your sexual fantasies to yourself. I think that’s something you discuss with reid,” you sniped.

“I think you discusssd a lot with reid last night,” he smirked. “oh my god! just like that spencer!”

“someone clearly wasn’t paying attention. he likes it when I call him doctor.” you say, stalking away.

from his seat opposite derek, spencer grinned at him in a way that clearly said: “yeah. she’s mine.”

@wietske27

#x reader #smut #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #post prison spencer reid #post prison spencer #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer smut #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #post prison reid #post prison reid smut #post prison spencer smut #post prison spencer reid smut

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massacredkitty · 16 hours

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hi honey!!!!! kay so ... how about ... mechanic abby with a mechanically clueless reader n she comes in like once a month and abby is like always giving her a huge discount n stuff idk?? do what you will with that??? lmao

also is 🐚 taken? i want that pls xx

female reader x mechanic abby anderson hcs second part is nsfw

you stare at her hands, dirty and calloused as they do god knows what under the hood of your car. her thumb and index play around with buttons and screws, and you can't help but notice how she seems to use her middle and ring fingers regularly. maybe its muscle memory. you hope so

you've become a regular now, somehow always having car trouble since your first visit. and of course, abby is always there to help you out, standing out from her fellow mechanics that gawk and whistle when you walk in.

she is such a gentlewoman, always treating you with respect and even cursing herself out when she catches herself staring at you for too long.

you're not much better; completely focused on how her body moves. specifically when she's checking your brakes underneath your car, the bottom half of her body sticking out.

you watch as her shirt rises, revealing her toned abdomen... the way her hips push up to adjust herself— it fogs your brain up too much that when she slides out to question you, you have to take a few seconds to compose yourself.

the sweet nicknames she gives you, rather nonchalantly. you settle on the thought that she calls every girl that, all her clients. what's so special about you? but what you don't know, is that abby pays very little attention to every other client that comes in. you're very special.

and she never lets you pay full price, not even the first time you came in. you don't know how to explain that one— maybe she's just nice?

mechanic!abby who lets you stick around after her shift, when the store is empty and quiet. letting you follow her around, asking about your day and life overall

nsfw ..

helps you clamour onto the hood of your newly fixed car, the combined body weight denting and marking the car. it makes abby cringe internally, hearing cracks and squeaks that she knows a car shouldn't make.

leaves you with marks she hopes you don't cover up, prays you purposefully display them on your skin the next time you come in. and surely enough, you do!

straps you in the backseat of your car, knees pressed against your chest and the windows fogged up. you can do nothing but take it, reaching up to claw at her muscular arms and cry about how good it feels

mechanic!abby who locks the store down a lot earlier now.

#MASSACREDKITTY .ᐟ #🐾 rqs ྀི #— 🐚anon #mechanic!abby #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby anderson drabble #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fan fiction #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fic #abby anderson imagine #the last of us #the last of us smut #tlou #abby tlou #abby the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams smut

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nicktoonsunite · 1 day

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1. Just needed to say how much I still adore the comics and how much you love these characters. I'm not ashamed to say that I absolutely lose it whenever you post something new. You're the reason why I got back into this fandom and why my incorrect quotes blog exists.

And 2. I was wondering, does Jimmy still see much of Carl, Sheen, Cindy and Libby? I feel like HQ would gain some extra chaos from those guys visiting

THANK YOU SO MUCHH AND ALSO NO WAY so you're the one running the NU incorrect quotes blog?? I probably sound like a broken record at this point but dawg all the interactions you manage to put them in are hilarious and so in-tune with how I picture their characterizations in my head. Pls keep doing what you're doing i love it LMAO

He does but more often its during his own time, because I'd like to think they lead on with busy lives with their careers; Carl and Sheen follow the canon future where Carl's starting out as a Llama caretaker and Sheen's a successful model (yes he safely returned back after Planet Sheen idk I didnt watch that show LOL) as for the girls I imagine Libby's a DJ/music producer and is roommates with Cindy who's furthering her ed in college. They all live far apart now but still actively keep in touch, and when they do want to physically meet up, transport isn't a problem because they have Jimmy lol They would have met the others in HQ a couple times at least, usually it'd be just Carl and Sheen but all four of them have visited together or individually before. Timmy's acquainted with all of them so he's always happy to see them around, Jenny gets along extremely well with Cindy and Libby, Sheen would take every chance to infodump about his favourite super hero Ultra-Lord to the actual irl "superheros" Danny and Manny, and everyone loves SpongeBob because he's SpongeBob

#asks #dragon-keeper #nicktoons unite

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ajortga · 2 days

Text

sweet pt.3

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: jenna's plans don't go as expected with you, the cute coffee girl, you spend the day with her in the park instead.

word count: 3.8k+

a/n: idk what to think about this, but really wanted to get this out there. aggtm series mentioned!

read the previous parts here!: part 1 part 2 part 3

A day comes a little quicker than anticipated. You send her your address and she tells you she’ll come at 10:25.

Jenna spends the whole day after filming figuring out just what she’ll wear.

‘It’s not even a date’ she’s trying to assure herself. A moment of weakness for her caused her to ask you out for anything but what she’d call a date.

Jasmin’s voice is already echoing in her head.

‘You know, Y/N, Jenna dressed extra fancy for this occasion. Spent all night trying to impress you. So feel proud, she doesn’t dress this well even on expensive dinner nights.’

The thought makes her groan, she wishes that it was filming day tomorrow. All they have to do is be there and listen to the picture of the director for their next shoot.

She unhangs the top hidden in her closet and takes out a black off the shoulder long sleeve mini dress. Her eyes scan it for a moment, looking at the mirror while draping it over herself. Then she pairs it with a pair of gold hoops.

Sure it’s not simple, but she’d wear it to fancy dinners, so Jasmin wouldn’t tattle tale of her wearing something more extravagant because of you. She’ll just make up an excuse of some sort.

You told her to come at 10:25, you’re basically 10 minutes away from her.

Jenna fucking wakes up at 7:25. The sight that she saw in the mirror was the closest thing to hideous she’d ever seen. Every morning the brunette looks like a messed up raccoon when she looks in the mirror. Her eyes staring dully at her, half-lidded and hair all scattered.

The reflection stares back at her, a smile on her face.

“This is actually so stupid,” Jenna says to herself, immediately dropping the giddy smile on her face. “Ridiculous.”

She tosses her clothes to the side, into the basket that held her unwashed clothes. Her fluffy cow slippers fly off as she feels the cold tile under her come in contact with her skin.

She shivers.

The handle of the shower is turned to a warm setting. Leaned more to the hotter side, before she steps in and lets the warmth of the water tickle her bare skin. A sigh escapes from her lips, grabbing the best smelling shampoo her heart desires. It’s not even the day to wash her hair, but she does it anyway.

“Date, date, date” says the voice in Jenna’s head.

“Oh, so now you’re haunting my brain, Jasmin? Great.” She murmurs, shaking her head while letting her fingertips thread out her bubbly hair.

Jenna showers for 30 minutes, smelling as fragrant as possible. She hopes you like vanilla. Well, she doesn’t care if you like vanilla or not. She doesn’t even care about you. (Yeah no, that’s a lie)

Steam hisses out the shower when she steps out of the stall, body wrapped in a warm fluffy towel.

Her fingers brush through her hair as she blow dries and curls it, putting on her outfit she chose the day before, glimmering in the lifting sun.

Then she puts on skin care and makeup, closing her eyes as she rinses her face off with her grapefruit wash, her eyeliner perfectly sweeping next to the tip of her eyes.

She sprays her favorite perfume. Which also coincidentally seems to be her most expensive one.

At 9:30 you send her a small text.

y/n, the nice okay coffee shop girl: hi, goodmorning! i hope i didn’t wake u if u were sleeping. i’m still not sure if you’re still picking me up at 10:25, i was waiting for a text yesterday to confirm but i didn’t want to push, yk?

“Shoot,” she mutters, mentally smacking herself in the face, she forgot to text you to let you know that it was for sure she was going to come get you. She furiously smacks her thumbs against the keyboard.

jelly bean: omg hi! Sorry, lowkey was kinda distracted yesterday.

Jenna stops for a moment, realizing she was distracted planning out her whole day and making sure that you’re impressed with what she shows you, before looking back at her phone to type more.

jelly bean: with work i guess but yes! 10:25 is still on. I hope u don’t mind being tagged along with a few people, they usually pick me up. Sorry for not texting!

seen at 9:34

y/n, the nice okay coffee shop girl: oohhh yeah don’t worry about it! I just didn’t want to bother u or anything

jelly bean: Text me anytime, you don’t bother me

jelly bean: I might just take a while to respond, but I do eventually. See u soon!

liked by y/n, the nice okay coffee shop girl

Honks are heard from her driveway as Jenna uses her spare time wrapped in her headphones and the book she was currently invested in, As Good as Dead. She places her bookmark through the page she was on and closes it, before she listens closely.

Long-long-short-short

Yep, she knew that beeping pattern all too well to know that it was Jas. She grabs her keys, some gum, and her book before opening her front door.

“Hey girl! Oh shit, you look amazing!” Jasmin hollers, Mason screaming his head off in the passenger seat and Melissa poking her head out.

Jenna can feel her eyes rolling, a smile plastered on her face as she crawls into the back of the car, hugging Melissa.

She can hear the statement coming before Jasmin even says anything, “Oh, wait a minute. You’re all dressed up because of a certain someone, aren’t you?”

“No I’m not.”

Jasmin looks at her with a ‘really?’ look in her eyes from the rear-view mirror. “Hair styled and everything. Oh!” She gasps, turning her head slowly and teasing her.

“And your favorite perfume too.”

“Ay dios,” Melissa mumbles.

“Jasmin, I’m going to leave if you say anything when Y/N goes through these car doors.”

She gasps, offended, before giving up and letting Jenna off easy, “Okay, okay. No promises though.”

It’s silent for a moment, before Jasmin turns back from the wheel, “But I’m going to tell her if I catch you making out in the backseat of my car.”

“Jasmin!”

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” She yells, turning a right and following the navigation to your house.

When they pull up to your drive, where your lawn is perfectly mowed and littered with the most precious flowers, Jenna texts you.

jelly bean: i’m here

She looks over to your window, her attention drawing away from her phone. Your house was white, nice windows and cute gnomes and exterior looks. Jenna only looked away for a few seconds, to look back at her phone and see Jasmin was literally nudging her nose through your messages.

“What the fuck!” Jenna screams.

“Y//n, the nice okay coffee shop girl,” she replies out loud, a bit too loud. “Oh wow, you even have her in your pinned messages.”

Melissa leers over, looking at the two as they smack each other's hands.

She has to physically stop Jasmin and Jenna fighting playfully, “She’s coming out.”

They don’t hear her. Of course.

And before Jenna knows it, she’s shaking her phone out of the other girl’s hand. She hears a tap on the window and looks up.

“Hi,” you greet, glancing at the people behind her. You wore a pearl necklace, hoops dangling from your ears. Jenna noticed that she’d never seen you without your apron at the cafe. Now you’re here, wearing something that you usually wouldn’t wear. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the dreamy thoughts.

The phone that was grasped is immediately let go and Jenna looks at you with eyes wide. It takes a moment to be able to register what was going on.

“Can I slip in?”

Jenna pops out of her thoughts, immediately opening the car door for you and scooting into the middle seat, “Oops, yeah, my bad, sorry.”

Jasmin rolls her eyes, “Amauteur,” she whispers under her breath, watching you buckle in your seat belt. She notices the way you tilt your legs to the side of the window, like you can give Jenna leg room.

“Hope you don’t mind a few friends tagging along?” She says, looking at you as you stare at the window.

“Oh no, it’s all okay.” You glance at her for a moment, trying to avoid the way everyone is basically staring at you.

“I’m Melissa,” the brunette next to Jenna says to you.“Melissa Barrera,” she adds, a small roll of her r’s present. She has eyes like one of a deer, wavy hair, and looks sweet. The smile she gives off eases your nerves a little as you give a small one back.

“I’m Jas and this is Mason. Don’t get near him, he has a thing for throwing anything in his arms when someone scares him..” The curly short-hair driver says, like spilling a secret. It makes Jenna smile. You scoot just a teeny bit closer.

Mason gasps, smacking her arm as she drives to the set, “For your information, it’s called reflexes. Chad would definitely have survived, could’ve gotten away by accidentally hitting ghostface whack with a guitar.” They share a laugh.

Jenna digs in her bag for something, earbuds. Damn it, you didn’t expect her to listen to music. You didn’t want to just curl up in the window while the other three were talking. You were hoping to get to know her better.

“So, coffee girl,” Mason’s voice brings you back from your thoughts. He stays silent for a moment before whispering, “We’re trying to get to know your name!” As if he didn’t already know from the gazillion number of times Jenna told them. He’d just have to play stupid.

“Jenna named you cute coffee girl on her phone,” Jasmin teased, “No, I’m just kidding.”

You give an awkward laugh, feeling the way Jenna tenses against you. You don’t catch the dead glare she gives to her. You hope you’re not a bother to her, maybe she thinks of you too lowly to find you cute. You let it go, “It’s Y/N,” you softly say.

“That name is pretty,” Melissa says, Jenna agrees, getting the courage to nudge your shoulder like she usually does when the other 3 aren’t around. You nudge her back.

“Thanks,” you murmur, giving a thankful smile.

“What the shit do you mean there's no filming today?” Jasmin hollers, slamming the gate with her palms.

“Jas, I think you got the wrong date,” the tall brunette says next to you. Jenna skeptically looks at the girl, currently complaining, “I got my hair done and everything!”

The shorter girl taps on her phone, you stay close by, “Wow, I thought you were just a little shorter than me. But man, you really are short.”

She shoots you a look, her freckles apparent on her face. She flips you off. “How do you miss the day by 4 days?”

Mason jumps up and down, slamming his fists into his chest, “You know what that means… MOVIE MARATHON NUMBER TWENTY-”

“No.”

“Ok,” Mason mumbles, defeated.

It’s a little chilly, you try to get familiar with your surroundings. It’s a filming studio, you’ve seen it before when you drove to work. You try to think where you five could go to that was nearby.

“There's a garden nearby, if you guys are willing to go. We don’t have to go if you guys don’t want to. I’ve driven there before and it’s really nice, I just never had the time to actually go there.” You suggest.

Jenna looks up at you, scrunching her nose. You sniff, ruffling her hair as she speaks, “I thought you only knew about coffee.”

“Lucky for you I’m a lady too,” you reply, grabbing out plain crackers from your backpack. “You wanna feed the geese?”

She snatches the crackers and opens it, “Yes,” she says, already stuffing her mouth with the crackers. “This brand is fire.”

You chuckle, before snatching the bag back and putting it into your backpack, “Miss, I can assure you you will be given more crackers if you help me feed the wild animals,” your voice is sarcastic.

“But Jenna is a wild animal,” Jasmin states.

“Oh, right,” you say, nodding up and down like it was a realization. “Here you go, jelly bean.” You throw the cracker in Jenna’s mouth while she munches it happily.

“Duck duckity duck goose.” Mason sing-songs, dancing with his hands everywhere, “I want me a goose so I can juice a moose.”

Jasmin looks at him, weirded out, “Juice a moose?”

“Have you never heard of rhyming?”

“Mason is so silly like a Billy that wants a chili- Okay guys that’s enough.” Melissa interrupts, “I’d love to hear your rap battle but I want to come home with flowers so let’s GO.”

Mason and Jasmin cross their arms, rolling their eyes, “Aw man."

You five walk across the garden, the sweet smell filling the air. You look at Jenna, currently flipping through the starting pages of a book that looks oddly familiar.

"Is that a book from A Good Girl's Guide to Murder?"

The question makes her ears perk, immediately looking at you, "Yeah, actually it's the third book."

There is nothing more that makes her heart swell than to see your smile right here and now, "I love that series! I finished all of Holly Jackson's books in the span of 2 weeks."

"Really? I just remember reading the first one and really liking it. What did you think of it?"

Your eyes shine, "It was so good! Had me in a book frenzy. I like the third one the best, though I thought it was kind of slow at first. It definitely has the most action. You'll love it."

"I'm glad to hear that. Hey, maybe we should read the same books or watch the same movies and compare our tastes, music wise too!"

You look like a little girl on Christmas Eve, a silly smile on your face, "I'd love that!"

Jasmin, Melissa, and Mason whisper among each other, smirking at the two of you. "They're already flirting."

“So,” Jenna starts, walking with you across the meadow filled with flowers, it looks so pretty, just like you. She could say that, maybe you’ll find her strange and stare at her with a straight face, so she doesn’t. “Why did you decide to work at a coffee shop?”

You look down at her, playing with your necklace, “I don’t know. Honestly, I used to bake a lot when I was little. It was mostly because my brother was a fatass.” You say seriously, and Jenna turns to you, going, “Oh.”

It’s silent for a moment, before you start giggling, “No! I’m just kidding, sure my brother was hungry. But I started baking cause my grandma was always in the kitchen making random shit. It was just that I liked spending time with her. I guess it sort of rubbed off on me.” You look at her and she takes in your eyes. She didn’t know how to explain it. But Jenna would say something in them made you special.

You tear your gaze, looking at the blossoming display of flowers in front of you.

“Do you think you’d like doing it for the rest of your life?”

The display of different flowers growing makes the setting like spring. “Maybe, I don’t know. Maybe not the rest of my life. I mean,” You don’t know how to explain yourself. “Well, as much as I love baking and carrying on the piece I can only connect to my grandma, I guess I’m not always going to be happy baking.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Baking is something I like to do for a hobby. I like to do it because I want to do it whenever I feel a certain way. But it’s not really fun when I have to do it no matter what I’m feeling, if you can understand that.”

Jenna nods, “Yeah, I do.” She murmurs as you guys find a place to sit down. The other three walk around.

“So, what do you want to be?” she asks, now a little more intrigued.

“Something in film. I always wanted to do something like that. A director maybe, I guess I want to be in an atmosphere that’s based on what I see on set.” You pick at the daisies in front of you, tucking it in your ear and offering Jenna one, she takes it. “My parents never let me do anything with theater when I was in high school. I remember I wanted to do it for 3 years, when freshman year of high school started, I was going to apply. But my parents forced me to take something else when they looked over my decisions.”

The shorter girl looked at you, the way you twirled the flower in your hand. It seemed like the subject made you a little vulnerable, the lack of seeing your soulful gaze gave it away.

“I was pretty upset,” you sigh, scratching your head, “I mean, sure I understood that they just wanted me to have a career that could make me a living, something that I wouldn’t regret. But even then, I wish I could’ve just done it for fun, take the experience. At least if I couldn’t do it as a career, I wanted freshman year to be the time to explore. I just kind of gave up, knowing that what my parents wanted was only trying to protect me.”

Jenna could understand you. She too was rejected when she wanted to first act. She could remember slamming her tiny hands into her pillow as she sobbed angry tears when her mother told her no. Maybe she should’ve been more thankful that she was given the opportunity. You never were told yes.

You wrap your arms around your knees, she does the same and feels you put your head on your shoulder. “What are your favorite flowers, jelly bean?”

“Roses. Light pink ones. Sunflowers and daisies are nice too.” She says, also tucking the daisy against her ear. “What about you?”

“Tulips. Pink, blue, yellow. I think they’re just so pretty. I love hydrangeas too. The light blue ones if I’m choosing a color.”

Jenna tries to keep that in mind. You look away from her, putting a strand of hair behind your ear as you look at the never ending garden in front of you two. She pulls out her phone, snaps a photo of you looking into the distance, away from her. You don’t notice.

“Tulips suit your favorite flower,” she murmurs. “I heard people match their favorite flower.” She puts her phone down as you turn to her.

It takes you a moment to get what she’s saying. She thinks you’re pretty. It makes her smile when she sees you realize what she’s saying. The least you can do is give her a foolish grin, “Thanks. You suit your favorite flowers too.”

“Guys, geese!” Mason’s voice interrupts, all breathy and out of breath from running to you guys. “I want to feed them, come on!”

You and Jenna get swept off your feet as you run with her into the flower-filled meadow to the small pond filled with ducklings, geese, swans, and fish.

They quack, waddling up to you as you pull out your crackers. It doesn’t take long for at least 30 animals to come to you. Half of them aren’t even geese. Squirrels, jack rabbits, heck, even a stray cat.

You hand the crackers to Jenna, before bending down and petting the orange kitten. “Hello there,” you say in a baby voice, petting it as it meows and nudges its body to your legs. You giggle, sitting down and letting it rest on your lap. “You’re a small one, aren’t you?” The cat makes a small noise as you stroke its soft, orange fur.

Jenna hands the crackers to Mason and the other two. “I never seen a stray this cute before,” she squeaks, petting the small cat’s head gently.

The kitty purrs, licking your hand that’s scratching its side. It’s a boy. “What should we call this adorable creature?”

“What about Tiny?”

“Tiny it is. Tiny the tiny kitty.” You grab an apple slice and let Jenna feed him.

“Oh you’re so cute!” She exclaims, cradling Tiny. He seems pretty clean, you hold him. “I wonder what it’s doing out here.”

“I think it’s a sign for us to start a pet daycare.”

You giggle.

Mason, Melissa, and Jasmin run around, throwing crackers to ducks.

“SOMEONE FUCKING HELP ME!” Jasmin cries, accidentally hitting the cracker whack in the goose’s face, running around as it’s chasing her. “I’M BEING CHASED!” She screams, throwing her arms in the air as you and Jenna watch her, laughing and huddled up against a tree.

Mason and Melissa snort, shaking their heads and rolling their eyes. “This is what she gets for taking all the cute and chubby ducks.”

Jasmin shrieks, running into a patio for the park nearby and closing the gate.

30 minutes pass and everyone is calmed down, except Jasmin, who’s cautiously eyeing the goose who chased her. “If you can run faster than me, I’m going to apply to be a track runner bitch.”

You're napping on Jenna’s shoulder, Tiny cuddled up against you two. She snaps another picture of you, smiling widely.

The day after, you open your phone to be greeted with a new post from Jenna on instagram.

liked by melissabarreram and 6,810,532 others

jennaortega: Day in the park with my favorites. 3rd photo taken by melissa, te amo

melissabarram: Pretty girls 😍

y/n_l/n: we are oh fish ally giving tiny a new daycare cutie

↳ jennaortega: oh yes, we first need to sign a contract of marriage and work

aliyah.ortega: yes queen

jasminsavoy: i'm never going there again, i almost got brutally murdered by that goose.

masonthegooding: 🔥need to plan a picnic there

You smile to yourself, letting yourself lean on your side as you grin. You send her another text on Insta.

y/n, the nice okay coffee shop girl: i have to sign a contract of both marriage AND work? what if i have to choose just one?

jelly bean: 🤷‍♀️ i can only give you one contract if you tell me your schedules for your shifts. Do u know how many times I came in and am greeted with someone completely different?

y/n, the nice okay coffee shop girl: okay maam, you got it ! :p

sent 1 attachment

jelly bean: Thanks for ur service

jelly bean: let's make a playlist together

jelly bean: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/<3

reacted with 💗

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n

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asterias-horny-corner · 2 days

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18+ content. Minors dni.

Jiyan headcanons.

Jiyan has a average cock, about 5.5 inches long. When he gets hard, it grows to about 7.76 inches. He has been curcumcised, and his base is well trimed. Probably has uneven balls, it gets really hard to keep himself packed in there.

He’s relatively quiet in bed, but when he does moan/whine/growl, it’s breathy n deep and you can feel him grow a little bit before returning to its usual erect size.

He likes clit and nipple play a lot. Enjoys feeling something soft and delicate and knowing that someone has trusted HIM with their body.

Idk why, but I just KNOW he wants kids. He won’t have them though, since he’s not exactly suited to be a father n he already stresses himself out about leaving his lover behind. He doesn’t want to leave his kids behind too. And besides, he knows that he’s not guaranteed to live in the battlefield, even if he is a resonater.

He would love to knock his lover up, but realistically, he’s not going to be able to. He doesn’t have the time for it. And while he fantasizes about having yet another reason to fight and protect, he’s not gonna be going through with the fantasy. Pull out game is incredible.

That said, there’s nothing compared to the release he feels seeing his lover gasping and panting while struggling to keep his seed inside their greedy hole. He likes watching them and listening to them after sex. Because he likes to cum inside, unless his dear is desperate for a period/cycle reset, the plan ‘B’ pill IS the plan A pill. Condoms? Never heard of ‘em. He’s only loyal to his little sweetheart anyway.

He’s always aware of what his lover’s cycle is like. You’re always gonna find a Pecok flower or a couple of gemberries from the front line in a letter from him whenever you’re close or on your period.

He’d absolutely love to send you exquisite chocolates and a bouquet of extravagant flowers, but this man is busy. And besides, his hand-picked flower is more than enough.

He’ll usually include a little bit of advice for you, whether it be on how to make up with a friend, reminding you of how to make his favorite childhood dish, or what supplements and herbs you should take to help ease your cramping symptoms and improve energy levels during your period. He used to be a military doctor, so he has knowledge of how to keep his love healthy ❤️

If he’s lucky enough to be able to take a couple of days off (which is very rare, the Tacet Discords are relentless and he doesn’t really trust anyone else to lead his army well, unfortunately,) he will be pampering and doing everything for you.

You are his best friend and the #1 reason why he keeps himself from getting too hurt. So he’s gonna spoil you, whether it’s getting a goddamn plate from the cupboard or letting you top him. Either way, you’re 100% going to have him following you around like a puppy.

His favorite sex position is missionary. He likes the feeling of your hands scratching at his back and feeling your legs wrapping around him. He also enjoys seeing your face, flushed and trembling with sweat and hickeys painting your perfect skin.

He tries very hard not to be greedy. He really does. Silently watching you through half-lidden golden touched eyes, he’ll always look away from you whenever you’re doing something particularly important and yet arousing. More often than not, though, he keeps himself restrained when you’re visiting.

And whenever you do visit the front lines, he’ll have you escorted to and from the site- resonator or not. You usually like to bring a little something for him, and even if you’re the worst cook in the world, he’ll always eat it. Especially since military rations are bland and dry or bitter and hard. Resources are scarce and jinzhou’s supply chains are limited.

But sometimes, Jiyan can’t help himself. He’ll pull you into his office, sit you on his desk, and let himself be greedy. He gives so much for the people of Jinzhou, he deserves to piston in and out of your gummy walls while you’re a whimpering, whining mess.

Yes, everyone can hear you specifically. They’re completely aware that their general’s currently working on his little sweetheart, and they’re going to ignore it to the best of their abilities. People will leave the office’s vicinity to keep themselves from earning a scolding from their general later.

Your noises are meant for him. Your sweet moans are his favorite song, and if anyone else is listening to what belongs to him, he tends to be in a bad mood when you’re on your way home. But he won’t do anything worse than scold his peers on listening in to his “private life” and take it out on Tacet Discords.

All in all, he wants a romantic relationship and someone to hold and love. But the both of you have to sacrifice a lot to keep Huanglong safe.

#jiyan x f!reader #18+ content #smut #wu jinyan #jiyan smut #jiyan x reader #wuwa jiyan #jiyan wuthering waves #minors dni #Asteria Writes

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hinamie · 3 hours

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atla!au designs part 3 !! one of these things is uh. not like the others

first year trio gojo/choso/nanami

#my art #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #fanart #jjk fanart #jjk atla!au #geto suguru #yuta okkotsu #mahito #squints at mahito i think i might b trying a bit too hard fr preliminary designs.......#they keep getting progressively more detailed OOPS #i feel like no one will complain tho so ! anywayyyyy #thank u hisuian zoroark fr ur weird hair n bad posture. stole that 2 put on this freak n gave him some soul orb hair ties #idk if his design adheres very faithfully to anything that can be considered atla canon....but i like it so much ok sue me #i would unironically like mahito more if he looked like this #let him lean more Monster.......pl..pls.......#dont dig too deep into that statement . anyway.#this whole page is full of chars i just Never draw but i dont have a least favourite here ???? all of them look rly good imo??#waterbender garb suits geto's design so well he gave me No trouble #yuuta on th other hand i was Concerned for on account of th aforementioned Orange on a very monochrome char in jjk canon #but i think i made it work? he looks great in th tattoos also??????#maybe th rumors r true and im good at what i do GHFGHGHL #(oh ya after mahito i didnt want to draw Another monster-spirit so i omitted rika but she exists. probably looks similar 2 canon also!)#(sighs ill deal w her later. priorities !!!!)

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 14 hours

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AITA for yelling at my friend on call for complaining about her grades? OK so, I (Ftm, 16) have a friend I'll call karla (F 16) shes very kind and she's also very talented. She does a lot of art stuff and shes won multiple awards. She's in honors and she has nearly all A's.

on the last day of school we where sitting at the lunch table and we where talking about grades and I was quiet cus I didn't get any like "good" grades. The thing is though, I hang out with a lot of smart kids. Everyone at my lunch table doesn't have anything lower than a C except one other person who only has one D+.

now i know grades arent a compitition but Karla was talking about how her grades where "so bad" and how she was so upset that she got- heaven forbid- a B- in math!! How horrible!!

and she kept going on and on about this B-, saying she was a failure and all that that I just got pissed.

i told her to shut up, that besides that B-, her grades where PERFECT. That her academic and creative life was PERFECT. That she doesn't get to call herself a failure cus what does that make EVERY SINGLE OTHER PERSON AT THAT TABLE?

now i'll admit i do think im kinda jealous of her. And I'm like 95% sure I'm the asshole cus she just left the table afterward. BUt Im just so bitter and tired of hearing of these gifted perfect kids sucking their own dick in front of other people.

idk im probably the asshole. i have apologized by now but she hasn't responded. I feel horrible I think. sorry for rambling at the end there-

AITA for telling a friend off for complaining about her good grades?

#aita #am i the asshole

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historicity-was-already-taken · 2 days

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Asking as a historian and an information professional; NOT as a frightened Jewish individual concerned with rising anti-Semitism in the Western left. I always like to be clear about what conversations I’m having, and in which capacity I am opening those conversations. Or in this case, polls.

And for the record, I selected the third option.

Also you can’t edit polls so the typos will remain.

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ifiguredyoudloveme · 3 days

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Unhuman (NSFW)

paul atreides x female!oc

summary: in the dark, a woman shows up in paul's room unannounced and gives him something he'll come to crave.

warnings: 18+, p in v sex, creampie, unnatural amount of cum, slight dubcon ? (paul is put under a spell to make him horny and in a trance-like state so idk), mention of knives, pure smut.

words: 1,852

a/n: i don't know where this character came from lol i just started writing. this makes no actual sense in the dune universe btw i just wanted to write about paul. also this took me over 10 days to write cus i kept procrastinating and i still don't really like it but oh well.

Paul awakens to a feeling that he is not alone in the bedroom he lays. A sense of unease creeps up the back of his neck, hairs standing, as he scans the room for the movement of shadow.

He sees it: a static movement in front of the closed door. He is able to make out the shape of the figure as his eyes adjust to the darkness. It's small but only seems to be a few inches shorter than Paul, however does not have the frame of any man he can think of. A woman, most probably.

"Who are you?" Paul asks. His voice is calm but his mind and rapid heart are not as he reaches for the dagger that usually rests without use under his pillow. He stands, hiding the weapon behind his back, the cold steel pressed against his bare skin.

The woman walks towards him with confident strides. Paul holds in a breath and tightens his grip on the knife. When she's mere inches from him, she draws a knife of her own from her side and presses the tip against the underside of Paul's chin.

"Drop it," she demands. He obeys on command despite the Voice not being used. Paul doesn't feel as though she possesses the ability to use it, and yet, he feels an odd inclination to do as she says.

Paul huffs out the air from his lungs. Her eyes are large and almost seem to be glowing; they're dark as a starless night sky, though he can't make out the colour. Her lips are plump and inviting. She pushes the knife upwards slightly, nearly breaking the skin, before dropping it herself. It clatters against the floor though Paul barely hears it. He has the overwhelming desire, suddenly, to kiss her.

"Who are you?" He asks. He wishes to be assertive in this moment, threatening to the unknown intruder, but he finds his voice will not obey and instead every word he utters comes out as a beg of a higher pitch. What is he begging for?

"It doesn't matter who I am." Her voice is soft and comes out unhuman, like an echoed whisper in the wind. Paul wonders if she's an angel, or a spirit, with her unnatural beauty. "I know who you are, and I'm quite surprised this is working so well on someone like you."

"May I...May I know, at least, what your purpose here is?" Paul's voice is low and hoarse and he can barely get the words out. He's been hypnotized by her - his hands squeeze together behind his back so as not to give into the urge to touch. She needs to leave.

She grins and looks down over Paul's half-naked frame. She rests a warm hand over the right side of his chest. His breath hitches. "I've come to give you something," she replies, her voice sweet and intoxicating. "I'm sure you'll like it, as will I."

Paul, without thought, places his hand over hers. "Has somebody sent you?"

She sighs and drops her hand. Paul's eyebrows furrow in worry; he doesn't want her to leave before she gives him whatever it is she's here for. All worries disappear when her hand returns to touch his face. "Yes, Paul, but I cannot disclose by who."

Paul's name on her lips make him gasp and lean into her touch. She's turned him into an obedient puppy, his eyes hazy and wide with anticipation and his red lips parted lazily. In a part of his mind that is usually far closer to him than now, he's disgusted with himself, his lack of the authority that's expected of him.

"May I see what you have come to give me?" His voice is a whine now. He wants to slap himself for his stupidity. He should tell her to leave, draw the knife to her throat and demand to know who she is, but he doesn't. Instead, he twists his head towards her palm and plants a soft kiss in the middle of it. She smiles at this gesture.

"Yes, of course."

Paul inhales deeply as her soft fingers slide from the side of his face and down his neck, fluttering over his collarbone then over his nipple, down his stomach. Her fingers leave a tingle behind on the skin she's touched. She stops once her hand is rested on his lower abdomen, edging dangerously close to his stirring arousal. "Please..." Paul whispers, barely audible.

"Will you lay down for me, Paul?" She asks sweetly. Paul nods, over and over, until he's rested on his back, his hands drawn up towards his chest in remaining insecurity over his fragile frame.

The woman is straddled over his lower hips in seconds though he didn't see her move, as if she used some sort of teleportation. She leans down until their mouths are barely touching, her breath light against his wet lips. "You're very beautiful, Paul. So delicate."

She reaches between their bodies and lightly grips his erection. A soft oh leaves his lips in a moan and he lifts his hips on instinct in search for friction. The head of his cock is wet and stains the thin material of his pants. He can almost swear, through the daze of his brain, that his erection is far bigger than it typically is, barely contained in the fabric. What he knows, for sure, is that his sensation to touch is amplified to an intensity he is unsure he can handle.

She connects her lips to his and they are as soft as Paul had imagined. He groans deeply into her mouth and pushes his wet tongue between her teeth. Their tongues dance together and her hand grips harder, stroking him frustratingly slow. "Please..." It's as if please is the only word he knows.

She pulls away and smiles, nodding in understanding, and grips the waistband of his pants to slide them down. His cock frees and makes a dirty slap against his stomach, loud in the stillness of the room. Paul reaches for her and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her back down so they lay skin to skin. She's so warm, and she's naked. Paul wonders if she's been naked this whole time, shadowed by the dark.

She leans into his ear, massages his curls between her fingers. "I'll make you feel good," she whispers so lightly Paul wouldn't have heard if it weren't for the deep silence of the room besides their breaths and his beating heart. He can't hear hers, nor can he feel it against his chest.

"Yeah?" Is all he can mutter, dizzy with desire as he feels her wetness slide over his cock, tip rubbing against her clit. Her pace is slow, too slow, so Paul grips her tighter and lifts his hips upward in a smooth rhythm, meeting her movements. She lets out a moan against his ear, so unhuman but so lovely he wonders if this is in fact a dream.

"Yes." With that, she lifts her hips and sinks down onto Paul's erection, filling her to the hilt. He shrieks an ungodly moan at the feeling and almost cums but manages to, somehow, hold it in. It's the best sensation he's ever felt.

"I can't, I can't," he repeats in huffs, "I don't think I'll last long, I don't—"

"Shh." She places her lips to his neck, sucking on the warm, salty skin. He goes pliant at this: arms slack and dropping to his side, his hands flexing and reaching for sheets to grip. He lets out a shaky whine. He wouldn't mind if his only purpose in life was to exchange pleasure with her, whoever she is.

Once she finally moves, her hips lifting slowly before coming back down again, his head pushes back into the pillow and a whimper escapes his throat. His neck is further exposed and she switches to the other side, sucking there. Paul lightly grips her hair, shorter than his own, and arches his back off the bed.

Her movements increase in speed and, against the sensitive skin of his neck where she's licked and sucked and nipped at, she asks: "Am I fulfilling my promise?"

A sobby whine vibrates in his chest as he nods, his cock leaking profusely with clear liquid inside of her. He's so blissed out he's unable to speak, eyes pricking with tears.

The noises that fill the room are unholy, wet slaps and heated groans of pleasure. She's mainly quiet besides the occasional soft moan when Paul bucks his hips upward to meet her in the middle.

She disconnects her wet, full lips from his neck and connects them to his lips once again, breathing in his steady flow of moans. She takes his cock fully and begins to rock her hips forward and backward, sucking on his tongue as she does so. He whimpers into her mouth at this sudden change of movement and grinds his hips to meet the rhythm of hers.

Paul turns his head to the side, disconnecting their lips, and throws his head back. He moves his hands from her hair to grip her ass and push her down, grinding harder with added force. He's close, and has a deep, forceful desire to cum inside of her.

"I'm gonna– Can I– Please–" Paul mumbles and whines against her ear, unable to form full sentences. His grinds become sloppy as his release climbs close and his grip on her loosens, hands flexed and shaking.

"Yes, Paul," she breathes against his ear, granting him permission. She plants a soft kiss against his cheek as he cums, calming him down with fingers through his hair as he writhes and moans loudly beneath her.

Tears run down his cheeks, cock pulsing inside of her heat and spurting out rope after rope of cum – an unnatural amount. He can feel the warm liquid seep out of her, pooling around the base of his cock and running down his tight balls. The feeling is so intense and delicious he knows that, if he is never to see her again, he may not be able to live with his craving for this. For her.

Once Paul has settled and his heart returns to a steady beat, she lifts her hips and his soaked, softening cock slides out of her and slaps against his thigh. More of his cum leaks out of her and onto his lower stomach. She smiles and places her hands on either side of his face, kissing him, then flips onto her back beside him.

Paul immediately rolls over and wraps his arms around her, unable to handle the lack of her touch. He rests his head against her chest and she lifts a hand to stroke his damp curls. "Don't go," he whispers.

The woman feels cruel knowing she eventually must. But she won't tell Paul this, not yet. Possibly she's been too harsh with her seduction, or Paul is far more sensitive to it than she assumed he would be.

"I won't," she fibs.

#paul atreides #paul atreides imagine #dune part 2 #timothee chalamet smut #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet imagine

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longlivedelusion · 2 days

Text

In the Heat of the Moment: Part 2

Summary: Bucky never could've imagined the night turning out like this: you on your knees taking him in the club after a much needed night out for the team.

Warnings: Smut. Girlies just we eating each other out in the club and getting down on our knees for one man and one man only. Enjoy. No use of Y/N

A/N: Well friends and nasties, I got a couple people desperate for a part 2 and who am I to deny y'all?

This was my first proper attempt at a smut one shot so... I hope you enjoy??? Technically this is a two parter though, so I'd recommend reading Part 1 here first if you want the whole experience.

Also I did this from Bucky's POV cause that was what I was vibing. I know it's a different POV from the last part, but idk switching it up can be fun sometimes!

Couple songs I listened to so I could get into the techno/club mood vibes if you wanna join along (I played it low so it could feel more ambiency~): More More More by Lulu, Bring the Rave by Vortex’s, Beukers in Berlin by &NUFF, Niotech

----------+++++----------

Bucky could only register one thing right now.

Your mouth on his cock.

He'd honestly never have predicted the night ending up like this, but damn if he didn’t imagine this same scenario over again after your training sessions together, missions, parties — really anytime he saw you these days.

So to have you on your knees, looking up at him with only the shitty flickering club bathroom lights to show the way your tongue slowly teased around his tip and back down again... Well. He never could go back to only imagining this again.

He knew what you felt like, and there ain’t now way he was going back to fiction. Thank god for that asshole that hit on you or you both wouldn’t be here right now.

He groaned as you sucked on the head, teasing him slowly as he gripped into your hair tighter, “Fuck doll, if you don’t start moving soon-“

You pulled off of him, your hand replacing your mouth as you slowly dragged it up and down his length, “Then what?” You asked, a teasing look in your eye as you looked up innocently.

His jaw clenched as he reached down to your jaw and gripped it tight, forcing you to look at him, “Then I’m gonna have to fuck your pretty mouth raw until you can’t talk.”

He watched your smile stay on your face a moment longer before your mouth hung open, your tongue out and inviting. A goddamn invitation to the heaven that was your mouth, for him to fucking use you like he’s only dreamed. You were gonna be the death of him, he was convinced at this point.

He dragged your head back over his length, your pretty lips hitting the edge of his leaking tip. He watched as he landed on your awaiting tongue, like you were awaiting orders. Orders he was more than glad to give.

He pushed his hips forward as his cock sunk hard into your awaiting throat, his length barely fitting as he hit the back. He felt you gag, watched you as you choked on him over and over again as he pulled back and forward. “You can take it,” he grunted out, “open up for me. C-come on, you can do it."

He kept pushing himself further and harder in as you relaxed your throat, his length digging in deeper and deeper. He watched as the tears started streaming down your face, your hands gripping now onto his thighs for support as he fucked your mouth into oblivion. He knew if you wanted to stop him at any point you could, so the fact that you were letting him fuck your mouth like this, seemed to be enjoying it-

“That’s it, fuck, t-taking me so good aren’t ya, made for me. Your throat, your pussy, all for me.” He panted out, each thrust taking him deeper into bliss as his head hit the wall of the bathroom stall. “Wanna fuck you, wanted to fuck you for so long. G-god, better than I imagined.”

His words we’re growing more incoherent, sporadic as his groans and breaths grew quicker, faster. He was already so damn close, your own moans vibrating against him.

He felt you suck hard, his hips pushing forward at the feeling. More- more- more-

“Fuck!” He let out, loud even over the pounding music outside the bathroom as he pressed into your throat as deep as he could. He felt you suck him harder, your tongue flattening out as you took every last drop of him.

His body was bliss, his mind a fog as he felt you loosen around him, your mouth coming off in a slow sweep. He loosened his grip on your hair, letting you fall off of him as he watched you slowly catch a stray drop of cum off your lip with your thumb. He felt his skin raise with goosebumps at the sight, every damn inch of you making him lose his mind. You were perfection, a beautiful devilish, perfect, everything.

“God damn doll.” He sighed out, head against the wall as he let himself take a mkment. He'd never come that hard in his life, but somehow you had his body screaming for more. He wanted and needed to feel more of you and he was still recovering from the mind blowing orgasm you just gave him in a dingy club bathroom.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there for but he suddenly felt your hands dragging up his body and to his face. He saw the tear stains down your cheeks, a reminder of how well you took him, your lips slightly swollen. He might've felt bad if those same lips hadn't immediately curled into a smirk as you looked up at him. “Good?” You asked, your voice cracking from abuse.

Shit.

“So fucking good.” He managed to get out, eyes tracing over every inch of your face. He wanted to mesmerize every detail, every way you looked after you took him, when you came, everything. Before he could think more, be crashed his lips onto yours, tearing into your mouth desperately.

He lifted you up and carried you over to the sink, setting you down on the edge counter before settling himself between your legs.

He took his time, tasting and licking every damn inch of skin he could before his mouth landed on your clothes chest. His teeth grazed over your nipple, a gasp leaving your lips as his hands grabbed and pinched the other. He knew he couldn’t have you the way he wanted, not here at least, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy some of what was to come.

He eventually dropped down to his knees, this time he got to gaze up at you, watching your face as he knelt below. The way your eyes would blow out, your mouth open slightly as you panted softly.

Eyes not leaving yours, he wrapped your legs around his shoulders and slowly moved your dress up. He watched as your hands reached out and gripped the wall beside you and the sink — anything for some semblance of balance.

His hands slowly slid up your thighs, goosebumps following his hands as he sat there mesmerized. He could already see your cunt so perfectly wet for him, so desperate for his touch. He reached out and placed two tentative fingers against your clothed core, slowly moving up and down before he slid the material to the side, your breath hitching at the cold air.

“Please,” He heard from above, his eyes darting back to yours as you stared down at him, chest heaving even harder now and a gleam of sweat glistening on your skin. He’d barely touched you but you looked nearly feral, like you were a rubber band ready to snap. Your hips slightly shifted forward, a silent plea for him to move. To touch.

He slowly pressed his fingers against your folds, feeling the slickness coating his fingers as he dragged them up and down. He was in no rush, content to feel you around him for as long as he could. Focused on the way your body tensed, your broken throat groaned and moaned, your legs tightening and locked around him.

“What do you want,” He said casually, pretending like it was just a casual question as he kissed the sides of your thigh. Even though he was steps away from tearing into you and feasting on your pussy like it was his last meal.

No, he wanted to hear you, needed to hear how much you wanted him first.

“Stop teasing,” You snapped, a harsh breath leaving your lips.

He moved his fingers down... And back up. Grazing by the entrance as he slicked his fingers around, keeping a languid lace. “Not enough there agent, I need you to tell me in explicit detail what you’d like me to do.” He smirked, eyes fixed on your frustrated ones.

“You fucking-“ You started, grip tightening on the counter. “I need you, James, to put your goddamn mouth on me now and fuck me so good that I forget my own name. Is that clear enough, soldier?”

He paused, smirk still on his lips as he said, “Crystal.”

Without a second thought after, his mouth pulled forward to where you both wanted it most, sighing as he tasted the most heavenly thing he'd ever laid his tongue on. You were fire and honey and he knew in that moment he’d never get enough of it — he was hooked on your taste, and he lapped and sucked like his life depended on it.

Your body lurched forward, hand darting into his hair as he felt you grip him tightly. “B-Bucky!”

He didn’t stop, tongue flicking and sucking in a punishing rhythm as one of fingers slowly entered that delicious place between your thighs. He felt you clench around him as he sunk deeper in, pulling out slowly before diving right back. He pushed, further and further until he was knuckle deep, a second finger pushing in soon after, then a third. You moaned above him, chanted nothing but his name.

That sent him over the edge. He tore into you with a new, punishing rhythm, desperate to feel you come around him, to know what it was like to hear you keep calling his name like he’d imagined every night, as he made you like this. Made you want him and nothing but him.

He groaned into your cunt, your body shivering as his metal hand pressed into your stomach to hold you down. You ground up into him, your walls clenching around his fingers as he felt you get closer and closer to the edge.

“Bucky, Bucky, I-“

He sucked your clit hard as a response, earning another harsh moan from you as he curled his fingers inside. And in that moment he knew you were done and that he'd found exactly where you needed it most because your body stiffened, your walls tightening into a deathly grip as he kept hitting that perfect spot over and over. The way you clutched to him, moved -- he was lost in the way you felt around him.

“James!” He heard you scream, your body shaking, holding onto whatever you could for dear life as he carried you through your release. He watched as your body melted, his movements slowing until he milked your orgasm just enough. He pulled out his fingers, taking his time to suck each digit clean before pushing himself back onto his feet, pulling your dress down in the process.

He felt as you reached out to him, barely registering anything as you kissed him with a fervor he didn’t know how you still had. After a moment he pulled away, his head laid against yours as you both caught your breaths. The harsh beats from the club filling the silence.

“Well that was…” You started.

“Fucking incredible is what it was.” He said, eyes locking onto yours. “And sure as hell not the end of it.”

“And what else did you have in mind?” You asked, hand drifting over his arm and up his neck.

He gripped you to him, body pressed against his as his already hardening member pressed against you. “So fucking much.” He whispered low, mouth hovering over yours. “You’ve got no idea the amount of ways I’ve thought about taking you doll.”

Your breath fanned over Bucky’s, lips just grazing one another as you whispered back. “Show me.”

#bucky barnes x reader #no use of y/n #bucky Barnes #smut #longlivedelusion originals #club bucky

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