#not that i haven't before it's just been a while | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

idyllic-ghost · 3 days

Note

I've been thinking about woozi aftercare 😫😫 like after an intense session imagine him taking care of you and giving you so many compliments especially if you haven't seen each other in a long time (reader she/her)

ohhh i can see that! i do see him as a very shy person, the type of guy who wouldn't be able to speak his mind in the moment when it comes to love (i do think he's good at communicating love, his songs are his track record, but that he has to sit down and think them over first), but in that moment with so much going on i definitely see it🤭

warnings: not proofed, implied smut, aftercare, MDNI

Your legs are still tangled together, your heavy breaths synchronizing in a harmonious rhythm. He's still inside of you, keeping the close proximity for as long as possible, and your arms are still around his neck - softly playing with his hair. Jihoon lets out a sigh that almost sounds like a whimper as he leans his forehead against yours. The bedsheets are clinging to your sweaty limbs, but you can't bring yourself to start cleaning up.

"Thank you," he whispers before giving you a chaste kiss.

The energy changed in a matter of seconds. Animalistic grunts turned into soft panting, violent movement turned into gentle touches, and the look in his eyes turned from lust to pure love. You had missed this, you had missed him - both of these sides of him. Jihoon had been gone for months on tour, and now he's finally with you again - not just over the phone, or on a face time call, but here with you, in real life.

"Why are you thanking me?" You brush away the hair hanging in front of his face, a playful smile appearing on your lips.

"I don't know..." He huffs and hides his face in the crook of your neck, where he presses a few loving pecks. "You're so beautiful... I just can't believe that you're with me. I've missed you so much."

You wrap your arms tighter around him, the small amount of movement had both of you wincing. He got home two-to-three hours ago, you couldn't quite tell, and the two of you had been at it ever since. It was surprising to see him like this, but you shouldn't be surprised considering the amount of racy photos you had sent him for the past few months. Safe to say, you are more than sensitive right now.

"I've missed you, too," you murmur and then, almost brittle, say, "You don't have to leave soon, do you?"

Jihoon moves to look at you again, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He reaches out to your face, brushing something off your cheek with his thumb - you don't know if there was something actually there, or if it was an excuse to caress your cheek.

"If you're thinking about that now, I didn't do a good enough job." He frowns, a soft pout forming on his lips - it's been so long since you've seen him act cute.

"I just don't want to fall asleep now if you'll be gone in the morning," you say.

"I won't be gone," he quickly replies. "I'm staying with you- I've taken a few days off."

It's almost cute how much he's trying to reassure you. His flushed face and his messy hair, combined with his wide eyes, makes you laugh - any worry about the next day disappearing completely. Jihoon quiets down and a smile settles on his lips. He presses a final kiss on your cheek before moving to get up.

"I'll clean up, okay? Wait here," he says, as if you're capable to move at all.

"Hurry back," you chirp as you pull the covers tighter around you.

In a matter of seconds, Jihoon comes back with a warm towel to help clean you up. He can't meet your eyes as he brings the towel to your thighs, so different from how he had treated you a few minutes ago. The shyness has apparently not hit him just yet, as he soon crawls back into bed and moves you to lay on his broad chest. One of his hands are on the top of your head, keeping it in the crook of his neck, while the other is on your back - drawing circles on your sensitive skin with his fingers.

"You're so good for me," he says. "I'm sorry for being away so much."

"It's fine," you answer, "as long as I get to experience you like this every time you come back."

"Noted." The chuckle he lets out almost sounds more like a scoff as it is quickly cut off by a yawn.

His fingers subconsciously drum against your back to some unknown melody. You find yourself wanting to ask what song it was - if it was something old, something new, or an old unreleased track - but Jihoon seems keen on not talking about work tonight. You can't blame him.

"I'm happy you're back," you murmur and nuzzle your face closer to him. "The bed is always cold without you."

Jihoon smells like the laundry detergent you told him you usually buy, his skin radiates the kind of warmth that seeps into your soul, and you can hear his heartbeat quicken at your words. You don't have to look at his face to know that he's turned red.

"I should get you a heating blanket," he grumbles in an attempt to hide his fluster.

"I like this more," you counter.

He removes his hand from your back to place over his eyes as a soft breath leaves his lips. You look up at him with a teasing smile and, as you expected, his ears are bright red.

"Jihoon." Your voice gets his attention and he removes his hand from his face to look at you. "I love you."

His flustered expression changes to a warm and much softer one. You shuffle around until your face is right above his, and you press a kiss on his lips. It's short, and Jihoon must think it's too short as he tries to chase your lips when you pull away.

"I love you, too." His eyes stay closed, as if he can't bring himself to look at you or as if he's still expecting you to kiss him again.

You give into him, pressing another kiss on his lips as your hands cup his face. Jihoon smiles against your lips as he gets what he wants, and takes you by surprise as he manhandles you onto your back. His eyes, although not as intense as before, has a lustful spark in them again.

"Again?" you ask incredulously.

"I have to make up for lost time," he argues and presses a kiss to your cheek.

"It's late, aren't you tired?"

"I'm never too tired for you," he murmurs before turning his attention to your body for the umpteenth time that night.

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confused-pyramid · 15 hours

Text

Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson #challengers #challengers smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x fem!reader #challengers fanfiction #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x you

264 notes · View notes

glearyyyne · 3 days

Text

the boy is mine

Synopsis: After your business trip, you head back to the Jujutsu High only to hear that there are newly transferred students when it hasn't been that long since Kugisaki and Itadori came. You didn't think that the new student will potentially be your rival to your boyfriend.

Word Count: 5,247

Warning: 18+ DNI, student-teacher relationship, Jealousy, possessiveness, marks, injury, tied wrists, new students.

Note: Yes you read the warning, this is a student-teacher relationship. This is like half of the smut since I'm still not confident to write it but I want to challenge myself to write smut. this story might be cringe to you though since I already find it cringe at the end T-T But I can't ditch this since I already finished making this so I hope you enjoy it!!

_____________________________________________________________

"Are there new transfer students again?" you asked nobara, who sat nearby, meticulously filing her nails while filling you in on the latest gossip from Jujutsu High during your brief absence on a recent business trip.

You were taken aback by the news of more transfers, considering it hadn't been long since Nobara and Yuji joined the school.

Nobara hummed in agreement as she blew on her nails, and you continued unpacking your things from your luggage.

"What did Sensei say about the situation?" you asked slowly.

"Oh, he's the one who introduced them to us, and, take note, he was happy while introducing them," Nobara answered.

You stood there, holding your clothes, suddenly feeling a surge of jealousy.

"What do they look like?" you quickly asked, not noticing how Nobara smirked before she answered.

"Oh, well, just a girl and a boy. I heard they were from Kyoto under Utahime's supervision, but I don't know the story behind why they were moved here," Nobara simply answered.

"They've already met Maki-san, Inukami-san, and Panda-senpai, so the only person they haven't met is you, a third-year student," Nobara added.

"So, am I meeting them later?" you asked after finishing hanging your clothes in the closet and putting away the luggage.

"I don't know, they're on a mission right now. Megumi's assisting them," Nobara answered.

"Then I guess we should head for training," you said while walking out of your room, leaving Nobara whining since you picked training instead of going shopping.

You and Nobara stopped training, catching your breath after some intense combat training.

Just as you were about to drink water, you heard a commotion from the training room.

The door was slightly open, revealing an annoyed Megumi before he opened it widely to let someone, or some people, through.

You were met with unfamiliar faces, their sheepish smiles suggesting a mix of nervousness and excitement.

"Nobara, it's your time to tour them," Megumi instructed her.

"What? Gojo-sensei specifically asked you to tour them!" Nobara argued back, leaving the two of them in a back-and-forth argument that made you sigh.

"Sorry about them, they're like oil and water," you apologized to the newcomers.

"It's fine," the girl replied with a reassuring smile.

"You two must be the newly transferred students, I suppose?" you asked, noticing their enthusiastic nods in response.

"I'm Riku Nakamura," the boy introduced with a toothy grin.

"And I'm Himari Takahashi," she introduced with a confident smile.

"Oh, and I'm—" You began to introduce yourself, but before you could finish, Himari cut you off.

"You must be [Reader's name]?" Himari asked, leaving you confused as to how she knew your name.

"How did you know my name?" you asked her, confused.

"Oh, the pink-haired boy told us," Himari replied casually, as you mentally facepalmed.

'Right, it had to be Yuji,' you thought to yourself.

You glanced at Nobara and Megumi, who seemed to have calmed down as you addressed them.

"I'll go and tour these two; you two go have some relaxation time," you said before gesturing for the new students to follow you out of the training room.

With a nod of agreement from Nobara and Megumi, you led Riku and Himari out, ready to show them around the school.

After walking for a while and sharing some history about a particular object you three passed by, you suddenly bumped into Satoru.

"Sensei?" you asked when you noticed him.

"[Reader's name]! I thought you were still on a business trip," Satoru exclaimed, offering you a warm smile.

"Here," Satoru added, passing you a bag filled with donuts. "I got them for you," he said with a toothy grin.

"Thanks," you replied dryly, but deep down, you were truly grateful for the gesture.

Satoru's eyes then shifted to the two new students as the conversation took a turn. "How was the first mission? Was Megumi a great help?" he asked them.

You observed the exchange, particularly focusing on Himari, who seemed to be acting differently.

"Good, Fushiguro-san was a bit annoyed, but he's a great help," Riku answered, with Himari nodding along.

"Well, I guess being stubborn still sticks with him," Satoru remarked with a chuckle.

"Oh, Riku, come with me right now. I need to talk about something, regardless of your rank," Satoru told him, prompting Riku to nod before following him.

As they were about to leave, Satoru turned to you. "I'll see you later. You know where to meet me," he specifically told you.

You nodded, already aware of what was to come.

"I will, Sensei," you replied as he smiled before he and Riku left, leaving you alone with Himari.

"You seemed close with Sensei," Himari remarked after glancing at you.

"Yeah, I've been ever since I came here," you replied casually.

"Is that so?" Himari replied, her tone neutral.

You hummed as you continued walking, with Himari following closely behind.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the thought of Himari possibly trying to get close to Satoru.

But deep down, you knew he was yours and yours alone.

After a long day, you made your way to where Satoru was, ensuring no one was following you since it was nearing midnight, and everyone should have been asleep by then.

Standing at the door, you took a deep breath before softly knocking as you waited for Satoru's permission to enter.

When you heard a “come in” from satoru, you opened the door slowly, keeping your gaze on the doorway as you closed it with your body facing the door.

Lost in thought, you remained standing there, unaware of Satoru's presence behind you until he wrapped his arm around your waist and whispered in your ear, "Is something wrong or bothering you?”

You felt your body heat up quickly from the closeness, but you managed to maintain your composure.

"Nothing," you replied softly, but Satoru wasn't convinced.

Slowly, he dipped his head down to the exposed skin of your collarbone, leaving a trail of gentle kisses that sent shivers down your spine.

With his free hand, he delicately tilted your jaw towards him, his touch sending electric tingles across your skin.

His lips met yours in a sensual kiss, you felt a rush of desire wash over you, melting into the intoxicating warmth of his embrace.

Without breaking the kiss, you turned around, wrapping your arms around Satoru's neck, pulling him closer as you sought to deepen the embrace.

Sensing your urgency, Satoru pressed you against the wall, his hands firmly gripping your waist as he intensified the kiss.

Lost in the moment, you surrendered to the passion, feeling the heat between you two grow with each passing second.

After pulling away to catch your breath, Satoru's other hand moved up to the door, stopping right beside your head as he lowered his gaze to meet yours.

Despite the romantic setting, you felt a sense of intimidation wash over you.

"You sure it's nothing bothering you?" he asked again, his concern evident in his eyes.

You looked at him and nodded. "Yes," you replied, trying to reassure him, even though there was a hint of uncertainty lingering within you.

Even though Satoru was wearing his blindfold, you could feel his blue eyes staring at you with doubt.

After a moment, he sighed and pulled you into a hug.

"I missed you," he said softly. "I missed you so bad ever since you went on that business trip," he added, and you couldn't help but giggle, knowing he would sulk any moment now.

"But we video-called every night when I was away, though," you reminded him.

"Yeah, but it's much better if you're here in my presence, not on some phone," he replied, his voice tinged with longing.

"Hey," he said, making you hum in response as you continued to hug him.

"You'll tell me if anything is bothering you, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

You nodded, replying softly, "Yes, I will."

Satoru let out a deep chuckle. "Good," he said reassuringly.

Feeling like you shouldn't dwell on thoughts of Himari, you decided to let things go, focusing instead on the warmth of Satoru's embrace.

As you reflected on the past week, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret about your earlier reassurances.

Himari has been getting on your nerves lately.

Recalling how she constantly eyed the door from the training area while she was training with Maki, you remembered how you had been there, waiting to train with Maki after she finished with Himari.

Her eyes kept darting towards the door, anticipating Satoru's arrival with his usual sweets to interrupt the training session.

You couldn't help but feel a twitch of annoyance when you noticed how her eyes would light up upon seeing Satoru.

During one time when Satoru once again disrupted the training session and distributed his usual sweets to everyone, you were the only one who received strawberry mochi.

It was impossible for anyone not to notice, and they all seemed to understand why you were the only one with a different treat.

However, Himari, being the curious cat she was, approached you after the training session to inquire about it.

As you were gathering the used weapons, Himari struck up a conversation, catching you off guard. "Do Sensei usually do that?" she asked, referring to the different sweets he gave you.

"About what?" you replied, feigning ignorance.

"The, uhm, giving you a different sweet?" she clarified.

You paused for a moment, considering your response.

Despite your irritation towards her, you decided to entertain the conversation.

"He knew I'm allergic to those, that's why he got me strawberry mochi. That's how considerate our Sensei is," you explained.

She simply responded with an "oh" before returning to help you clean the training room.

You suddenly wanted to whack yourself for not telling the truth, especially after an incident in the classroom. You were busy taking notes when the first-years came to accompany you.

Despite their innocent intentions, you couldn't shake the feeling that they were up to something, especially with Himari present and Riku nowhere to be found.

As you were engrossed in your notes, Nobara approached your table with a smirk on her face.

"Oh, [Reader's name], could you please pass this to Sensei?" she asked, handing you a paper.

Muttering a sure, you reached out to take the paper when suddenly someone else grabbed it, causing you to flinch. You looked to see Himari holding the paper.

"I'll do it, [Reader's name] is busy with notes, so instead of making her do more work, I'll do it. You don't mind, right?" Himari explained before turning to you, awaiting your reply.

Your blood boiled as you clenched your fists, trying to calm yourself down.

"No, I'll do it, Himari. Besides, I had something to pass to Sensei—" You started to stand up, reaching for the paper, but Himari pulled it away.

"Oh no, really, you stay here and finish your notes. I'll pass this to Sensei," she insisted before swiftly leaving the classroom.

Frustrated, you grabbed the crumpled paper you had tossed aside, tightening your grip on it as Nobara tried to suppress her laughter at the situation she had just witnessed.

You quickly glanced at Nobara, who abruptly closed her mouth and averted her gaze.

"Nobara, as much as I hate to point fingers, what was that?" you asked her, frustration evident in your tone.

"What's what?" she replied innocently, pretending to be oblivious.

"What Himari did!" you finally snapped.

"She's trying to make you jealous," Megumi interjected.

"Fushiguro!" Nobara exclaimed, clearly annoyed by Megumi's interference.

"It's better to speak up than to let things escalate," Megumi calmly countered.

"I think your idea is a bad one, Kugisaki," Yuji chimed in.

"Oh, please, I just want her," Nobara said, pointing at you, "to realize that Himari could be her potential rival for Sensei's attention!" Nobara explained, her determination shining through.

"Just admit you're there for the dr—" Before Megumi could finish his sentence, Yuji quickly chimed in, "Oh well! I think it's best if you continue doing notes," he said, with a nervous laugh.

You stared at the three of them suspiciously. "Look, I'll do whatever I have to do to her since Sensei's my business now," you told them firmly.

They already knew about you and Satoru being in a relationship. Yuji and Nobara had accidentally seen Satoru's contacts, noticing the name he had saved yours under.

Megumi had been aware of it even before he joined the first year.

All they could do was sigh in response, muttering okay before returning to their tasks.

You did the same, focusing on your notes, but your mind was preoccupied with thoughts of what to do about Himari.

As you sat there, pen in hand, you couldn't shake the feeling that something needed to be done about her meddling behavior.

You had asked Riku to accompany you to the storage room to retrieve some boxes.

"You take this one while I take those on the side," you instructed him.

He nodded in understanding and went to lift the designated box, while you grabbed another.

As you both left the storage room and headed downstairs toward the classroom, Riku spoke up. "[Reader's name]," he began.

"Yes?" you replied, curious about what he was going to say.

"Are you and Sensei, like, closer than everyone else here?" he asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.

You felt a twinge of surprise at his question.

How did he already know that when even Himari seemed oblivious?

"I guess you could say that," you replied cautiously, your grip tightening around the box as you continued on your way.

"Why do you think so?" you asked him, intrigued by his observation.

"Well, every time he accompanied me on a mission, he always made sure to bring some sweets on our way back. He'd stare at the display of sweets and mutter something like, 'What does she want, hmm?' I just thought since you got the strawberry mochi last time, I guessed he was talking about you. Am I wrong?" Riku explained, his tone thoughtful.

You were surprised at how observant he was, especially since he often seemed quiet during training sessions.

"I see, you're quite observant," you told him, offering a compliment that seemed to make Riku giggle, pleased with himself.

You and Riku were so engrossed in conversation that you didn't notice the staircase ahead.

The box you were carrying blocked your view; before you knew it, you were stepping into thin air.

Panic surged through you as you began to fall, instinctively calling out Riku's name.

Riku reacted just in time, shoving the box away and reaching out to grab your arm.

Despite his efforts, both of you tumbled down the stairs, and you ended up landing on top of him, your body pressing against his chest as you both lay sprawled on the ground.

You began to panic, attempting to stand up but failing as intense pain shot through your ankle, causing you to whine in agony.

"[Reader's name]! I-I—" Riku stuttered, clearly flustered by the situation.

Suddenly, someone wrapped their arms around your waist, helping you stand and pulling you into a comforting hug.

"What happened?" a concerned voice asked, and you recognized it as Satoru's.

"S-Sen—ow," you tried to explain to Satoru, but before you could finish, you fell back into his chest again, letting out a yelp of pain.

Satoru's voice was filled with concern as he spoke to you, his arms still wrapped around you protectively. "Are you alright? What happened?" he asked, his tone worried.

As he glanced over at Riku, there was a subtle hint of jealousy in his eyes, evident to anyone who knew him well.

However, he quickly masked it with a reassuring smile, his focus returning to you as he waited for your response, ready to offer his support and assistance.

"All you could muster was, "Hurts... so bad," as you told him about the pain. Satoru let out a sigh of concern, gently lifting you into a princess-style carry.

As he carried you, his gaze flickered over to Riku, a warning look in his eyes that seemed to say, 'If I were you, I would stay away from her.'

With that silent message conveyed, Satoru hurried you to Shoko's clinic, determined to get you the care you needed.

After Shoko treated your ankle, you found that you could walk just fine again.

However, Satoru still insisted on carrying you like a princess back to your dorm.

"Sen—Satoru, I can walk," you reminded him gently as he lifted you, navigating the stairs.

"I can't help but think you're dangerous to the stairs, baby," Satoru replied with a smirk, refusing to give up his hold on you.

"Oh, come on, I fell because the box was blocking my view," you explained, feeling a hint of frustration.

"But that still doesn't help me with my jealousy," Satoru said playfully as he reached your door and finally let you down.

You sat down at the edge of your bed, letting out a sigh, while Satoru stood nearby, silently observing you.

He walked up in front of you, his presence commanding attention, and took off his blindfold, placing it on your nightstand.

Looking up at him, you noticed the intensity in his gaze, like that of a predator sizing up its prey.

"What?" you asked, curious about the purpose behind his scrutinizing stare.

He didn't give a response; instead, he leaned down and captured your lips in a passionate kiss.

You responded eagerly, your heart racing as Satoru gently pushed you onto the bed, never breaking the kiss.

He hovered over you, it became clear that his actions were fueled by the jealousy he felt earlier, a desire to declare his claim over you.

Satoru's hand caressed your waist, his touch sending shivers down your spine as he played with the hem of your uniform.

Pulling away slightly, he took a deep breath, his eyes locked with yours.

“I love you” he spoke with affection showing in his eyes. You suddenly felt soft as you replied. “I love you too,” you told him with a soft smile.

He smiled and suddenly you forgot about Himari, the cause of your jealousy.

A few days later, Satoru organized a training session for everyone, emphasizing that attendance was mandatory.

Fortunately, you hadn't been assigned to a mission yet, so you were able to attend.

Arriving at the training room in your usual workout attire, you found everyone already engaged in warm-ups.

Satoru stood at the front, observing everyone's movements with his usual keen eye, despite the blindfold.

When he noticed your presence, his smile brightened, and he waved in your direction.

Even though his eyes were hidden, you could sense the warmth in his gaze as it landed on you.

Satoru's clap echoed through the training room, effectively capturing everyone's attention.

"Now that everyone's here, we should start our training," he announced, his voice projecting clearly.

As the group gathered in front of him, forming a line from left to right, Satoru contemplated his next instruction.

"I'm thinking we should do pairing," he suggested, his tone thoughtful as he considered the most effective way to structure the training session.

"But then again, since y'all are not an even number, someone will be without a partner. I'll be their partner then," Satoru generously suggested.

The pairs were quickly formed: Maki with Panda, Inumaki with Megumi, and Nobara with Itadori.

However, this left you, Riku, and Himari without partners, as Satoru had predicted.

You were about to head over to Satoru, knowing he was your usual training partner when someone grabbed your wrist. Startled, you turned to see Riku standing there.

"[Reader's name], be my partner," he said, surprising you with his request.

"Uh, but—" you began, unsure how to respond, when Himari interjected.

"Looks like I don't have a partner, Sensei," she said, her tone sweet as she batted her eyes at Satoru, clearly vying for his attention.

“Well, I guess I don't have much choice," Satoru replied nonchalantly, leaving you staring at him with frustration.

It felt as if he were doing this on purpose, purposely pairing you with Riku instead of himself.

You and Riku moved to a spot not too far from where Satoru and Himari were standing. As you began cleaning your weapon, Riku spoke up. "I'm sorry," he started.

"About what?" you asked, looking up at him.

"That I stole you from Sensei to be my partner in training," he explained apologetically.

You sighed, feeling conflicted. "Well, I couldn't do much since it happened already," you told him, trying to brush it off.

"But really, I was just forced by Himari when Sensei said that we're doing a pairing," Riku revealed, causing you to freeze as you stared at him in disbelief.

"What?" you asked, taken aback by his confession.

"The truth is, Himari actually knew you two were together. She just can't accept that uh, you got the strongest sorcerer?" Riku explained, his words catching you off guard.

"What?" you said again, incredulous at what you were hearing.

"Her words, not mine," Riku added, emphasizing that it was Himari's perspective and not necessarily his own.

"I don't know why, but I know it had to do with her clan. It was supposed to be only me who transferred here, as I was recommended by Utahime-san to the first grade. I needed Gojo-san to accompany me on missions since you know how it is when you're being recommended," Riku explained.

You nodded along, listening attentively as he shared his insights into the situation.

There was more to Himari's behavior than initially met the eye.

"That's why I'm telling you, [Reader's name], to do something that'll make Himari know her place," Riku urged, his tone firm and determined.

"I've got an idea. Riku, I need you to hold my feet as I do push-ups," you instructed him, lying down on the ground while Riku looked on, confused.

"How would that be a good idea?" he asked, clearly skeptical.

"Just do it," you told him, deadpanned, sensing Satoru's gaze on you even though you didn't look directly at him.

Riku was about to protest, but he sighed and complied, positioning himself in front of you and holding your knees tight.

You stole a glance at Satoru and Himari, noting that they were busy with their combat training.

Despite not looking directly at them, you could feel Satoru's gaze on you, his attention never wavering.

"Don't freak out when my face gets close to you," you warned Riku, but he seemed preoccupied with glancing back and forth between you and Satoru, who was paying attention to your interaction.

"I-I don't think this is a good idea," Riku protested, but you ignored his concerns and began to do your push-ups. As you lowered yourself towards the ground, your face came dangerously close to Riku's.

Intent on making it appear as though you were kissing Riku, mimicking the style of exercise Satoru favored since it often led to affectionate moments between you two, you held the position for a moment before pushing yourself back up.

Just as you were about to complete your eighth push-up, a hand suddenly came through, blocking your face from reaching Riku. Startled, you looked up to see Satoru with an irked smile on his face.

"Is there a problem, Sensei?" you asked innocently, playing along with the situation, while Riku looked on in panic, unsure of what to make of the unexpected interruption.

"Satoru looked at Riku. "Riku, I need you to partner with Himari for now as I need to talk to [reader's name]," Satoru instructed Riku with his authoritative tone.

Riku, sensing the seriousness in Satoru's voice, stood up and left, obediently complying with his sensei's command, leaving you two alone.

Satoru's smile dropped as he looked at you, his expression serious. "You," he pointed at you, then pointed to himself.

"Me," he gestured to himself, before indicating the door.

"In my dorm. Now," he commanded firmly.

You stood up, meeting Satoru's gaze, and noticed Himari staring at the two of you with an unreadable expression.

Without hesitation, you stuck your tongue out at her before turning to follow Satoru out of the training area and towards his dorm.

Once inside, Satoru pushed you onto the bed after locking the door behind him.

You landed on your stomach, about to protest, when he swiftly grabbed both of your wrists and tied them together with his blindfold.

"Satoru—" you began, but he silenced you by leaning down close to your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "You're playing a dangerous game, baby," he whispered.

"What game?!" you exclaimed, trying to free your wrists from his grasp.

"That," he replied, his voice low and husky, "doing our usual exercise position with someone else. You know how much I like that." His words sent a thrill through you, despite the apprehension swirling in your mind.

"But it's not fair when you let Himari be your partner when you know we're usually partners in training!" you defended yourself, frustration evident in your voice.

"Oh, baby, I see, you were jealous, weren't you?" Satoru teased, his tone playful as he held your tied wrists.

His other hand traveled up to your shorts, teasingly grazing over your clothed pussy, eliciting a surprised gasp from you as you arched your back at the unexpected sensation.

"You were jealous too!" you pointed out, your voice tinged with accusation as you tried to suppress the moans threatening to escape.

Satoru noticed your struggle and quickened his pace, the intensity of his touch driving you closer to the edge.

Desperate to muffle the sounds of pleasure building within you, you buried your face in the sheets, trying to stifle your moans as Satoru continued to push you to the brink of ecstasy.

"So what if I am?" Satoru countered, his voice husky with desire as he continued to rub your clit, coaxing wetness to soak your panties.

"Baby, I always show everyone how I get when I'm jealous, and I was just curious about your reaction," he explained, his touch igniting waves of pleasure that coursed through your body.

"Ngh, stop, ah," was all you could manage to reply as you were overwhelmed by the pleasure Satoru was giving you.

"How about this, baby," Satoru proposed, his voice husky with desire.

"You stop playing games with Riku, and I'll stop with Himari."

You were unable to reply, too consumed by the sensations coursing through your body as you felt yourself getting closer to climax.

"Getting close, princess?" Satoru asked, his voice teasing as he noticed you slightly shaking.

"I am—ah," you replied, your words trailing off into a moan as the pleasure intensified, pushing you toward the climax.

"Promise me, princess," Satoru urged, his voice filled with longing, but you were too lost in the waves of pleasure to respond.

Sensing your lack of response, Satoru slowed down his pace, eliciting a whine of protest from you.

"I was... so close—why slow down?" you managed to utter, tears beginning to well in your eyes.

"You weren't answering me, kitten," Satoru chided gently, his voice tinged with amusement as he chuckled at the way you shivered at the pet names.

"About what—ah!" you yelped when you felt Satoru slap your butt, the sudden sting adding to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.

"You weren't listening to me, baby," Satoru reminded you, his tone firm yet teasing. "I asked that you promise me to stop that nonsense with Riku, and I'll stop with Himari."

"I promise! Please, let me cum," you begged desperately, the need for release consuming you.

"I will, princess," Satoru whispered into your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine as he fastened his pace once more, finally granting you the release you craved.

Your body convulsed in ecstasy as you cum, waves of pleasure washing over you as Satoru guided you to the peak of bliss.

Satoru removed the blindfold from your wrist and placed it over your eyes, positioning you on his lap.

"Let's continue, baby, but I want you to wear my blindfold," he chuckled, but you were still too lost in the aftermath of your climax to fully comprehend his words.

"Is there anything that my baby wants?" Satoru's voice brought you back to the present moment, and you found your voice.

"Let me mark you," you told him, a sense of possessiveness washing over you.

Even though you couldn't see him, you knew Satoru was smiling like a fool.

"I'll let you later, baby," he promised, guiding you to lay on the bed as he positioned himself on top of you, showering you with passionate kisses.

The rest of the day melted into a steamy night with Satoru, and as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you felt like the ultimate winner, content in the knowledge that he was yours and yours alone.

You woke up to the sound of loud knocking, finding it difficult to move with Satoru spooning you from behind.

With a groan, you attempted to untangle yourself from his embrace, finally managing to slip out of bed.

You grabbed a shirt of his and hastily threw it on before making your way to the door, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"What?" you asked, your voice groggy with sleep as you opened the door to see who was disturbing your peaceful morning.

To your shock, it was Himari standing at the door, holding a bunch of papers. "Oh," she replied, her tone smug. "Isn't your room in the other building?" she asked, her audacity irritating you.

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, "Well, it's never too bad to have a second room to sleep in."

Himari scoffed, unimpressed by your response. "Where's sensei?" she asked, her fake smile not fooling you.

"Sleeping, obviously," you replied curtly, but she wasn't satisfied. "Can you go fetch him? I need to give some important documents to him," she insisted, her tone demanding.

You had enough of her nonsense, so you snapped at her.

"Listen here, you dimwit, can't you see this?" You pointed to the mark Satoru left on your neck from the previous night.

"Isn't this enough to tell you that I'm his girlfriend? You can just give that to me instead of ordering me to fetch him for you," you angrily told her, frustration evident in your voice.

Himari was too stunned to speak, giving you the chance to snatch the papers from her hands.

"I'll let him know that you dropped this off. But if you ever try to get close to him again..." You trailed off, mimicking a neck slice gesture with your hand as you smiled sweetly at her before slamming the door shut.

You sighed, placing the papers onto the coffee table, intending to deal with them later.

You turned to head to the bathroom to cool off, but you heard Satoru's groggy voice from the bedroom. "Baby?"

"Yeah?" you replied, pausing to listen.

"Where are you? I need my morning hug," Satoru whined, his voice filled with longing.

"I'm coming," you told him, unable to suppress a giggle at his antics.

"You better be," he teased in response, his tone playful.

#gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu satoru #satoru gojo #jjk angst #gojo satoru #yuji itadori #nobara kugisaki #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #maki zenin #inumaki toge #panda jjk #gojo smut #satoru smut

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barcaatthemoon · 19 hours

Text

be like water || fridlona rolfo x reader ||

you try to pull away from frido when your feelings become too much to handle.

you didn't think it was possible for you to be so stupid. there had never been a doubt in your mind about following frido and ingrid from wolfsburg to barcelona. they were your best friends, and it made ingrid feel a lot better if she was close enough to really look out for you. what you couldn't believe was how quickly you managed to fall for frido once mapi came into the picture.

in all actuality, you had always had feelings for frido. she was kind, caring, and gorgeous. however, she had always ever spoken about boyfriends. you knew that didn't mean your crush was completely hopeless, but you also had trouble imagining a reality where frido liked you back.

you could think of a million reasons why frido wouldn't have felt the same way about you. there would always be so many things standing in the way of your happy ending. you were fairly certain that frido was straight since she had never shown an interest in any of your other teammates before. if it wasn't that, then the age gap was sure to get you. you had been barely 18 whenever the two of you had met, and it didn't help that ingrid had introduced you as "the baby" of the norweigan team.

'baby norway' was what they had been calling you since your call up to the national team at the tender age of 15. you had been a super sub back then, but it had only taken you a year and a half to become a consistent starter. you'd been blessed with practically no injuries, none that required rehab or surgeries at the very least. however, all of that came crashing down around you at barcelona.

it had started with a little tweak of your ankle during practice. frido cursed herself for not noticing it earlier whenever you went down at the next game. you knew that it wasn't her fault, you had already begun to pull away from her. still, she sat with you in the trainer's room while it got checked out.

"frido, you don't have to stay here," you told her. ingrid was out on the pitch and mapi was sitting in the stands with the rest of the injured players. you had hoped that frido would have stayed on the pitch, but instead, she had been insistent on coming with you. it was hard for you to avoid your feelings whenever frido openly showed how much she cared for you.

"jona has already subbed me off. am i just supposed to leave you here all by yourself?" frido asked you. you opened your mouth to tell her that was exactly what she should do, but she cut you off first. "don't be ridiculous. you and ingrid were there for me whenever i got hurt. i want to be here for you too."

"frido, please. this is the last thing that i need right now. just, go take a shower and calm down," you said. frido couldn't come up with a reason to argue with you, so she reluctantly left you in the trainer's room. once she was gone, you laid back and took a deep breath. it felt like a weight was lifted off of your chest once she was gone, only to be replaced by guilt clawing its way through your throat. frido just wanted to be there for you, but you couldn't get over your stupid feelings for her long enough to let her.

…

"so, tell me again why i'm the one picking you up from the hospital when i know for a fact that frido asked to do this?" ingrid asked you. she had been around countless times when frido offered to take care of you or escort you from appointment to appointment.

"we haven't gotten to spend much time together lately, and i missed you, that's all." it wasn't a complete lie, but ingrid knew that it wasn't the whole truth either. she pulled down a side street and turned her car off. you couldn't get out on your own, so the two of you were trapped there until ingrid got the truth out of you.

"did something happen between the two of you?" ingrid asked. you shook your head as you pulled your good leg up into the seat in front of you. you rested your head against your knee to keep it turned away from ingrid. "you still love her, don't you?"

"of course i love her, she's my best friend. i came all the way from germany for her, ingrid. i just didn't know that i couldn't be around her alone," you confessed. ingrid paused as she took in your words. you had always been adamant that you came for both of your friends, even if ingrid knew otherwise. she knew all about the secret feelings you kept for frido, just like she knew how conflicted frido felt about you.

"mapi is going to kill me for this, but i want you to stay with me for the next week or so, okay? neither frido nor i want you to be alone, but i won't force you to stay with her if you can't handle it," ingrid told you. you thanked her quietly as she started the car up again and drove off towards her apartment.

she didn't tell you about frido already being at your place. ingrid didn't tell you a lot of things, just like she didn't tell frido anything either. she kept both of your secrets until one of you were ready to come out with it. she wanted to help you desperately, but knew that it wasn't her place to put it all out in the open.

…

"i don't get it. did i do something?" frido was practically tearing her hair out as she sat on the couch next to ingrid and aitana. your stay with mapi and ingrid had ended over a week ago, but you were still dodging all of frido's texts and calls.

"it's not you, i promise," ingrid reassured the older woman. "the baby just has some things to work out, that's all. this is a difficult time for her, she's going through a lot."

"but why is she pushing me away? i could help her, but she won't let me." tears sprung to frido's eyes. you had always seemed closer with ingrid because of your shared nationality, but it had never been an issue for frido before. "i need a minute."

"frido, wait!" ingrid shouted. frido was standing, but she didn't make a move to leave her place. "let me drive you to (y/n)'s. i think you two realy need to talk."

"she doesn't want anything to do with me. i'm not you, it's okay," frido said. ingrid sighed and pulled frido outside. the drive from your place was pretty short, usually just a ten minute walk.

ingrid felt bad about blindsiding you, but this conversation couldn't wait any longer. both you and frido were tearing yourselves apart trying to navigate feelings and your friendship. ingrid knew how easy it could be for both of you, and that was all she wanted. she just wanted her friends to be happy, even if the thought of making a move terrified the both of them.

you hadn't expected any visitors, so ingrid and frido's arrival had taken you by surprise. ingrid shoving frido through your front door and closing it for you was an even bigger one. ingrid knew practically everything, and yet, here she was forcing you to be alone with the person who had been giving you so much grief for the past few months.

"i think we need to talk, but i don't know what to say to you," you told frido. you hobbled over to your couch and sat down. frido just stood in front of you and paced around your living room. "fridolina, calm down."

"no, i can't. i am sick and tired of being calm about this. you've got me worried sick. i care about you so much, and i want to help you through whatever this is, but you won't let me. i know that i'm not ingrid, and i'm sorry, but fuck! let me help you." frido's voice grew as she spoke, but she never really got close to shouting at you. "talk to me, please. i miss the way things were in germany, it felt so much easier back then."

"trust me, it was never any easier. we just weren't alone back then like we are now," you told her. frido glanced down at you, a look of confusion on her face. "i don't want you to be ingrid, frido. i love you for you, and that's the problem."

"your problem is that you love me?" frido asked you. you nodded, unable to look up and meet her gaze. you kept your eyes down as you felt her approach you. the couch dipped down as frido sat down next to you. you shuddered when her arm wrapped around you, even though you had been craving her affection since you started to distance yourself. "look at me, (y/n), please."

"i can't," you whispered. frido sighed as she pressed a kiss to the side of your forehead. "i can't do this. i have to talk to jona. i have to go back to wolfsburg or just somewhere else."

"don't run away from your feelings. just look at me, please," frido pleaded with you. she was on the verge of getting on her knees and begging you to look at her. you didn't know why, but something in her voice compelled you to go against your instincts.

your eyes met tearful blue ones, and you nearly broke because of it. frido gently caressed your cheek, rubbing her thumb along your cheekbone as she stared at you. there was no disgust or pity in frido's eyes, which caught you by surprise. all you could see was relief. your friendship didn't implode on the spot because of your admission, which filled you with a relief that you couldn't even begin to describe.

"i love you too," frido told you. she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against yours. her eyes flicked down to your lips before coming back up to meet your eyes again. "can i kiss you?"

frido barely managed to finish her sentence before you were lurching forward. she caught your body in her arms, allowing for you to practically lay on top of her as the two of your lips met in a passionate kiss. frido began to push you back a bit to catch her breath. you let out a whine as her lips moved off of yours.

"i've wanted this for so long that i don't ever want to stop," you said quietly. frido smiled as she pressed a quick kiss to your lips. "i thought you'd hate me if i told you how i felt. i had tried for so long to be cool and casual, but i couldn't. the more time we spent here without ingrid, the harder it became."

"i wish that you had told me how you felt, but i am not sure that i would have accepted it at first. i think we were both going through something, but that's over now. we have each other, and if you're willing to give me a chance, i'd like to see where this goes." frido's words made your heart swell a little with happiness. it was an odd feeling, finally having your feelings reciprocated. you didn't know what to do with yourself. you didn't know where things were going, but you hoped that they flowed as easily and naturally as your friendship with her had.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #frido rolfo imagine #frido rolfo x reader #fridolina rolfo imagine #fridolina rolfo x reader

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teezersfics · 3 days

Text

Lipstick~ Kim Hongjoong ♡

Just trying to match my hair with your favourite lipstick shade ~ Kim Hongjoong

♡ EROTICA ATEEZ ♡

Warnings : sub!reader, dom!hongjoong, unprotected penetration, angry sex, teasing, dirty talk (a lil bit), denied climax, punishment, thigh riding, Hongjoong ordering around, possessive HJ, MDNI, 18+

WC : 3.7K

Haven't done the fact check, so if there are any mistakes, please understand ⊂(･ω･)

There is a little story at start, the 18+ part starts after a while.

(A/n : OK, so it's quiet interesting cuz a week before Coachella I bought a lipstick in cherry red type shade, and when I saw Hongjoong at Coachella with same shade of Hair, it did things to me and that's how I wrote this. Enjoyyyyy~)

It was weekend, that means it was time to celebrate.

This weekend, a success party was organised for all the 8 lovely and hardworking boys by the company for their successful Coachella show and tour this summer. Ofcourse, a deserved one.

But, you were upset about one thing. You boyfriend. Hingjoong. Its been two weeks since they came back from US. But, it was just 4 days ago that he met you. Though, it's good that he is prioritising his time with his family, but you were upset upon the fact that he couldn't even meet you for sometime in these many days. He even met his friends from another company before meeting you. And that kinda made you sad for some reason.

Since you boy met, you've been giving cold shoulder to him, no matter how much he tried or apologised. You were not completely mad about it, its just you were playing with him for sometime, until the bomb inside him ticks. He might be a cutie patootie, until you test his limits, that's exactly what you were waiting for. You were just not going to let it loose until he made you.

As evening comes closer, you realise its time to get ready for the party tonight. The fact that Hongjoong was supposed to be at your apartment right now, getting ready along with you, but he was gone from morning without telling you a word. Sometimes you just can't figure out what's going inside his brain. But, you can't wait anymore, you have to start getting ready.

The theme was black and gold. Basic but classy combination. And, office parties are always classy. It was pure celebration night along with some business stuff. There was going to be an announcement at the party, but its fun part because only director knows about it, not even the boys.

As you think about all the exciting stuff that was going to happen in tonight's party, you get ready in your black backless bodycon dress, which was, ofcourse, a bit revealing. Revealing enough to trigger something in someone. Adding black heels and a cute little Balmain purse, finishing your look with gold rings, bracelet and a short gold chain.

Checking yourself finally in mirror for last time, you almost forgot to apply the lipstick. Your favourite thing in makeup. These days you are hooked onto a particular lipstick shade. A dark cherry red or blood red or dark red, however you call it. You just love how that shade looks on your lips. Applying the lipstick and checking yourself in the mirror for the very last time, you hear the sound of horn. Just in time.

You leave your apartment complex and while heading towards the street, there he is leaning against the car. No matter how much upset you are about him, in the end of the day, 'damn, he is really my man. Mine.' this is your last thought.

All black outfit, black shiny blazer, heeled boots, loose black shirt, golden chain and analogue watch. But wait, what you observed next was was you were not expecting. Your steps become slower. A brand new hair look. Undercut, cherry red dyed hair with wet look. It's as if you are day dreaming. He definately knows about your new obsession.

You walk up to him, cheeks already stained with heat, you didn't know what to say.

"Looking preety, princess" He compliments you. But, you remind yourself 'act upset.'

"You too." You say it coldly.

"Such a dry compliment? You don't know how much efforts I have put in today's look."

You clearly know what he is talking about, it's the hair, but you are currently playing hard.

"I mean, the look is preety handsome."

"The look?"

"Yeah. What else?"

"Very well."

To be honest, the more you are in front of him, the desperate your hands are growing to just caress his hair until you ruin the hairstyle. And, you just cannot control. An odd strand of his hair, resting on his eyebrow, looks out of place, which you try to fix. But, as your hand is approaching his forehead, he fixes it himself. Opening the door, he motions for you to get in. Irritated, you squeeze your eyes at him in annoyance and he responds you with a naughty smirk. "So, two-player game has finally started." Is what you think.

The ride till destination is just exchange of some words. You were continously resisting the urge to look at him. Just can't get enough of him in that hair colour. And his preety face. Oh god. But, one thing he doesn't knows, is your completely backless dress. He is yet to see it, and you know exactly when to use it as a trigger.

Reaching at the destination, you both are greeted with welcoming smiles from the boys. The 7 balls of sunshine welcoming you and your other grumpy ball of sunshine.

Their smiles are enough to make someone's day better. And, it's just the start of today's evening.

After the short greetings, you are seated at the couch, enjoying the drinks and snacks. Some of the members girlfriends are here too, with whom you are familiar with. There are also other artist from the company, for celebrating ATEEZ success. Such a wholesome company. And, suddenly there are taps on mic, stealing everyone's attention.

"Mic check, okayyy"

It's the director.

"Well, its about the special announcement. Total, of three announcements. Initially, I would like to tell everyone, that our boys, ATEEZ, after Hongjoong joining Balmain as brand ambassador, other boys will also be joining big brands from Korea and also international brands,as bran ambassadors, very soon."

Everyone cheer and congratulate the boys. Sometimes it just makes you tear up, how much these boys are growing.

( fr tho, I cry sometimes. )

"Secondly, ATEEZ will be having a Comeback in June."

Again there are cheers. Not gonna lie, Comeback period is so good, because as Hongjoong's girlfriend, you already know most of things from newest Comeback, and it's just so fun to see Atinys reactions to all the stuff getting released.

"Third, announcement. Out team manager is going to get married this month." This information does get the loudest cheers. The night is full of laughs and smiles. But, it's time for a game now.

Everyone is called up on the dance floor. The upbeat songs fills the environment. It feels like the clubs with all the crazy lightings and upbeat songs. But, as night gets older, upbeat songs turn to skies romantic songs. Ofcourse, for some of the couple present here. It starts with Manager and his soon to be wife joining the dance floor with cute couple dance. Later on, other members, San, Seonghwa, Mingi and Yunho also joins the stage with their girlfriends. You were stealing glances with Hongjoong, but he didn't ask you for the dance. It kinda made you upset. But, your bestie did notice it.

"Hey, it's not good to see a preety lady, sitting upset on the couch, while romantic songs are playing here. Come on, dance with me, will you?" It's Wooyoung, holding his hand out for you. Always been a life saver. You could always tryst him in situations like this.

"Gladly" you say with a smile and join him.

All this conversation just received piercing stares from Hongjoong.

On the dance floor, you can't thank Wooyoung enough for offering you for a dance.

"Gosh Wooyoung, you always get the situation right."

"Hmm, I've been observing it since you two came. Did you two fought or something?" He asks.

"Kind of. But just play along with me."

"Sure, your majesty."

As, you start the slow dance, you slowly bring all your hairs to the front from one side, revealing the backless dress.

"Holy, a backless dress. I see what you are doing." Wooyoung says to which you give a low chuckle.

"But, I don't think so I am allowed to touch your back. I'll be burned to ashes by someone."

"It's okay, you can hold my waist instead." You say.

"Oh Wooyoung, you are so loyal and you don't even have a girlfriend yet. How's that possible?"

"Didn't.....find anyone yet. My type is bit weird."

"Your future girlfriend will be so lucky."

"But looks like I won't be lucky anymore. Hongjoong's eyes are literally on fire. He hasn't stopped looking here for a second."

You chuckle to how stresses he sounds.

"You laughing?? Currently I am being used as a pawn and god knows what is going to happen to me, the next time Hongjoong calls me in his room."

"Haha, okay. This much is fine for today. Let's go."

"I hope this gets your work done." He gives you a thumbs up before leaving the stage.

You join Hongjoong again on the couch.

"Are you done dancing?" He is not looking at you. The mad energy radiates from him which gives you goosebumps but you try not to stutter.

"Yeah."

"Looks like you enjoyed it too much."

"Hmm, Wooyoung is actually so good at dancing."

He is still not looking at you.

"I still feel like this night shouldn't end. Its just so good to see eve-"

"We were leaving." He cuts you off.

"What?"

"Get up."

He gets up and heads to give last greetings to boys.

"Why are leaving early? There still alot of time." Seonghwa asks.

"Didn't have some proper rest for some days. Also, I need to drop her first. Right, Princess?"

He says to which you just nod.

Ride back was silent, not a single word exchanged. But as you reached, he grabbed your wrist. Dragging you all way up to your apartment complex, he yanked you into your bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"What is it Hongj-"

"Remove everything you have on your body, except that dress."

You are shocked by the sudden command, you just stand there, unmoving.

"Wasn't I enough loud for you to hear that? Get to work." There is something behind those eyes. Something that tells you not to mess up right now.

As you are removing all your accessories and heels, he is also loosening his own tie, folding the sleeves of his shirt to half, unbuttoning half of the buttons, messing his hairs a bit. Shit! The raw look that you enjoy to savour. Everytime he come backs from work or a meeting or award show, and loosening himself up after coming home, you would enjoy him in this look for hours. Not to mention the several times you have secretly pleasured yourself unknowingly imagining him in this look.

After he is done with it, he sits on the corner of the bed, right in front of mirror. He motions you to come closer and stand in front of him. His hands starts from your shoulder, caressing your body from your curves throughout your hips.

"Hmm, what a right choice for a party dress, showing all that cleavage, that back, that curve of the hips. It's not like, I want to limit your freedom, but I definately won't like what's mine to be eye candy for others." His voice goes low.

"Wear what you like baby, but don't use that to test my patience. Understand."

"This dress does not have a kind of good impression on me. Beacuse, it was not me who danced with you." His hands then heads towards your dress zipper but instead of opening the zipper, he straight out rips the dress from your back.

"And I make sure, you never wear this dress again."

The dress is soon pulled down from your body leaving you in your lingerie. No matter how many times you've been naked in front of him, no matter how many times you fucked, the way he looks at your body always brings goosebumps.

He manspreads and motions you to sit on his one lap. And you do as he asked. But, he has other plans today.

"Nah! Not like this baby. Face your back to me."

When you face your back to him, you could see both your figures in the mirror. You sitting on his lap, legs apart, him scanning the scene in front of him. But, what he says next, fills your eyes with horror.

"Since you were being a little bad today, your punishment is to only ride my thigh for today. And if you cum without my orders, forget getting my dick."

The worst thing you could hear today. After trying so hard to just get fucked, but all you get is a punishment, testing how much you can resist your high.

"Come on, baby. Move." His grit his teeth ordering you to begin the show.

Hesitantly, you start moving your hips. Slowly increasing your pace to gain more and more friction. You hands resting on his other thigh and bed, head thrown back, eyes rolled to your brain. Hongjoong resting both of his hands on bed, his head thrown back too. He sure is making you punished, but he himself is not sure how long he can hold back.

You just try to make your movements faster and faster, digging yourself more into his thigh, grinding as if your life depends on it. But, you are frustrated. Frustrated for not getting what you wanted, you click your tounge and whine in frustration while still maintaining the pace.

But your whines are loud enough to catch his attention. He lifts his head up, a victory smirk on his face, droopy eyes. "Did I just hear it right? Little cries of frustration." His mouth is right on your ear. "Frustrated because you didn't get what you wanted? How petty." He chuckles, the vibration of the sound making your ear feel numb.

He places his one hand on your neck, pushing your neck to the back, and other hand on your waist, helping you increase your pace, almost digging his nails in your waist. When you look in the mirror, he already has his eyes, trained on your face. And, you see the lust in his eyes, pure lust.

He for sure is your lovely boyfriend, but when he is filled with lust, it's like completely different person, as if he'd switch roles with some incubus. Not to mention, him having that perfect blood coloured hairs now, make your organs do backflips in your body.

Speaking of that, you try to raise your hands to try touch his hairs, but he is more in his sensed than you do right now. He quickly stops you by holding your hands, and then holding them at your back. You hear a scoff.

"If I let happen what you want the most, then what's the point of my punishment, yeah?"

You click your tounge again, clearly not hiding your frustration anymore. His one hand goes again to your waist, helping you work more faster. But, you can't hold it back longer. Your patience have ended.

“Ho- Hongjong pleasee-” you whisper.

“Hmm, did I hear something?”

“I am…..am so close. Please….”

“Aww, but you know the rules, right”

He is just testing every bit of your patience.

“Please, please, I beg…beg you.”

A single tear roll down your closed eye, out of desperation and your restrained release. But, your breathes grow heavy and you are so…so close to disobey him again. And he notices, stopping your movements.

“On your back, now.”

Without wasting a second, you are laying on bed. He gets in between legs separating them for him to stand on his knees, undressing himself. Finally pulling down his boxer to take out his hard dick. He pumps it himself for some seconds. He comes down to kiss you, or rather you'd say eat your lips out. The way he is kissing you with his tongue exploring every corner in your mouth, making you out of breathe.

Your hand pinned above your head, with one hand still stopping you from achieving your goa of touching his hairsl. Separating his lips from yours, he removes the last remaining pieces of clothes from your body.

“Remember baby, the rules are still same. No cumming without my permission.”

And with that he enters you, bottoming out, making you gasp out loud.

“Gosh, you are so wet, I don't even need to try.”

Then he starts moving, short shallow thrusts at start, pulling out just halfway through and then going all in again. Making your body rock every so slowly. But, then when he is done with the intro, he increases his speed suddenly, pulling almost out but then suddenly snapping in fast making you scream.

“Ahhh, fuck, fuck…ah agh”

“Oh, just this got you cursing like this, the main show is yet to begin.”

With this, starts thrusting fast, so fast that could rip your pussy. The sound of skin slapping, creaking of bed, both your pants and moans, fills the room.

He finally let your hands free to gain more stability, and first thing you do is find his hair. Intervening your hand with his hair, you pull them making Hongjoong groan. He is not that vocal in bed, but when he is, his moans are most best thing your ears have ever heard. And, you always try to find a way to make him moan.

He backs up for a while, halting his movements for seconds, and throwing your legs over his shoulders while still being inside you, wiping his sweat before starting again. This time he is not just thrusting but pushing himself inside of you, basically pushing you into the mattress. Your brain is so fucked out right now, you have no capacity to understand anything. You are gripping the sheets beneath you for your dear life. His balls deep inside of you, pushing in and out, furiously. There's a drool flowing from the corner of your mouth, eyes rolled back.

“Aww, look at that fucked out face. Do I do you that good baby, hmm?"

You hear everything but you are so messed to answer anything to him. All that comes out of your mouth are moans and screams of his name.

He comes down to kiss you again, kissing all that drool away. He bites your lower lip while kissing you, drawing out blood, making you wince, but without a thought he sucks your blood too. That particular action made the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Ahh!! Fuck. Shit baby, your blood tastes sweet- sweet too, ah.” He says within heavy pants. His speed of thrust has become slower but, instead he thrusts in with more force, literally making the bed rock back and forth. Pushing himself in you and at the same time pulling you towards him, with force. It just hits different when he is jealous and wrecks the shit out of you, the best type of sex because he'd give his all to make sure the name coming out of your mouth is only his.

He kissed your legs, from ankle to your knee while still thrusting, leaving bite marks on your calves. And with other hand, he adds two fingers to your already stuffed hole, thrusting with his fingers simultaneously with his dick. That made you scream out loud. Somehow you managed to open your eyes a bit, but as soon as he saw you a mischievous grin appeared on his face, looking directly in your eyes. You knew, there was something going in his head.

He removes his fingers from your hole and starts rubbing on your clit with his palm. No, he knows how to test you. You throw your head back into the mattress because of the sudden added pleasure. He starts rubbing forcefully on your clit, he could almost feel his dick slamming in and out through your skin. That was just bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

“Ho- Hong, plesee….”

“Umm, please what babe?”

“Hong-....you- you know….please”

“Oh, does my baby wants to cum???” He coos, mockingly.

“Yess….” You nod desperately.

“But, baby. You know the rules right?? What did I say??”

You know he wouldn't let you win, but you can't hold it back. But, coming without him saying so, would just bring you another trouble. You bang your fists on the mattress out of frustration.

“Oh oh, look who is angry.” He coos again. But he instantly comes down, his mouth hovering above your ear, “If you just don't want to go through this, then don't go around making ME angry.” He grits. “Understood. Now wait.”

He starts thrusting again, fast, his both hands on your neck. Your denied climax, him thrusting faster and his hands gripping your neck, all this was too much for you to handle, the overwhelming feeling was making your back arch. You again pull onto his hairs, getting him to moan loudly. Him moaning your name and curses loudly into your ear was your last straw.

“Ahhh,fuck y/n. You feel so fucking good. Ahh.”

“Hong- Hong…please. I can't hold…..”

After some hard thrusts he finally says.

“Baby, cum for me. Together. Come on.”

And with that, you release at the same time as him. Your body going limp suddenly. While he still stays inside you pushing both of your cum further inside you.

He removes himself and lays on you, hugging you from above, peppering your breasts with butterfly kisses.

“Baby, I know I was busy all these days and did not meet you. But don't ever do what you did today. If you want attention, just say it to me. Just know, at the end of the day, I will always come to you. I just can't see you in anyone else's hands.”

You nod with a hum. Your hands find its way to his hairs.

“You did this on purpose, didn't you?” You ask.

He scoffs with a guilty ‘yes’

“I saw, lately you've been liking this colour alot. So, I just tried matching my hair with your lipstick shade.”

“You don't know what that did to me.” He chuckles after hearing you.

He suddenly lifts you up in bridal style, heading towards the bathroom.

“Let's bath together. I will wash your hair today, ok.”

No, cuz, i am SOOO crazy over this Hongjoong, like bsnsjkakakakakananwjjsosoaka

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railingsofsorrow · 1 day

Text

we'll be alright

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: the one where it's the team's night out after a few long weeks of work and you're finally relaxing... not really. because you have a secret that's brewing your insides out.

pairing: s.reid x f!reader

w.c: 2.4K

warnings/content: mentions of pregnancy symptoms; sleep deprivation; alcohol; jj being a good friend; discussion about choices; fearing one's reaction; yk spencer reid the best (only) man on earth.

A/N: I planned this to be a small drabble... anyways, enjoy this blurb while I finish up a few requests.

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“what are you doing?”

“chill, jj. I'm not drinking.”

you roll your eyes at the blonde casting you a suspicious look when she walks over. you don't know why she did it, to be honest. everyone seemed to be having fun over at the table, you just felt too uncomfortable and had to take a breath of fresh air outside. when you came back, you sat down by the counter, the bartender placed a red drink in front of you claiming it was from a guy across the bar. you didn't look, you didn't care. you push it aside with an eye roll and stick to the glass of soda you had previously ordered.

“are you okay?” her sympathetic voice is too much for you to bear right now, so you inhale sharply, actually thinking about downing that whole red drink in a go but you're one hundred percent sure certain jj would knock it off before it reaches your mouth. “sorry. I won't ask.”

“i'm just... confused.” you shrug, playing with the hem of the glass, tongue traveling over your lips. they are pretty dry, you can't remember the last time you drank water. “you don't have to keep an eye on me, jj. seriously, I'll be back in a second. I'm just... thinking.”

“have you told him?”

“no.”

her brows pull together. and before she can offer you her unwanted advice, you cut her off.

“don't tell me he has the right to know or anything like that. I know, okay? I know what I have to do, I know what I need to do. but I have a right to process everything on my own as well and I'm doing just fine doing that. for now.” you don't mean to snap, acknowledging the fact that jj means well, but you're tired of hearing obvious things about the situation and none of them did anything to help easing your nerves.

seems like people cared more about spencer's opinion on the matter rather than your own, when it is, in fact, a matter that you are carrying.

“i was gonna say take your time. you don't need to have it all figured out right this second.” you glance up at her, doubtful. jj gives your shoulder a squeeze and casts you a reassuring smile that almost sends you to jump in her arms to be coddled. “you're not on your own. I know it can be overwhelming, trust me, but you can talk to me anytime you want, okay? when you're ready.”

you smile for what felt like the first time in the night. relief swallowing down a bit of the nervousness rumbling through your chest.

“thanks, jayge,” you say.

jj gives you a wink. she leaves you alone after that and you enjoy a few minutes on your own when a familiar and welcoming touch trails down your back.

“you're quiet.” spencer eyes something above your head with hard eyes and his gaze immediately melts when it falls upon you.

“marking territory, doctor reid?” you tease, noticing the jealousy by his tells. his tries at being inconspicuous are foolish, but you like it.

he flushes red, clearing his throat and mumbling I don't know what you're talking about under his breath.

you hum, resting your chin against your palm as you look up at him. “i'm always quiet.”

“not like that.” spencer points out, tilting his head as his lips stretch into a soft smile. his gaze says I know you. you can't fool me. and he's 100% right, you can't. “is everything okay?” he questions, fingers grazing your upper arm in a way that it almost causes you close your eyes and give in to sleep right there. the truth is that you haven't been sleeping for three whole days. tossing and turning and feeding the nightmare in your head that all would go to shit. your relationship, you mean. the most solid thing you have going on for you, you'd screw that up. personally, you're a fan of facing the problem right away so you could get rid of it quickly. but this is neither a problem — not for you — nor you could fix it.

“i have something to tell you.” you swallow with difficulty. “but I- I don't know how.”

“okay.” he caresses your arm, brows knitting together in slight concern. “do you want to go home? is that okay for you?”

you sigh, hand traveling cross your face. “i don't want you to stop having fun because—”

“i wasn't having fun.” spencer is quick to cut you off albeit gently like he always is. “i was basically begging for you to call it a night so we could leave.”

a surprise laugh escapes out of you. you believe that.

“okay.” you nod, convinced. and a little less anxious to be honest. it's not like you'd say what you want to say in the middle of a crowded bar filled with drunk people. “yeah, we can, we can go home.”

“great.” he kisses your temple and waits for you to accompany him to your friend's table so you can bid your goodbyes. the first indication that something is off was your withdraw nature throughout the entire day. not that you weren't doing your job perfectly fine, you were. but your mind seemed to be elsewhere from the moment you stepped into the FBI headquarters to this very moment now. the second indication was when you said you'd get a drink and never came back. he found you by the bar with, in deed, a drink before you. then, he knew he had to say something.

“where are your keys?” spencer asks, adjusting the leather strap on his shoulder as you stride out of the pub. you lift the car keys between your fingers and he outreaches a hand towards it to which your eyebrows pull together in confusion. “you drank, didn't you?”

your face smoothes out in understanding, “no.” he regards you with uncertainty. “i didn't,” you repeat with an eyeroll. “i can't. I ordered that one but I didn't touch it. if you wanna drive though, be my guest.” he takes the keys in the first chance and you just chuckle softly, walking to the opposite side and entering the car. when you finally adjust yourself in the seat, you let out a long breath in relief. your feet are killing you as well as your head. not to mention the dizziness coming back and forth.

you don't open you eyes when something presses against your torso, you know it's spencer buckling up your seatbelt that you had forgotten.

“what did you mean by you can't drink?” the peaceful silence is broken by spencer's gentle tone. he'd look over at you every few minutes, trying to point out if the cause for your pale cheeks is the faint light of the car or something else. your eyes are shut but he knows you are not sleeping by the constant shifting in your seat.

“what?” you stumble on an answer and that's the best you are able to come up with.

“you said I can't.”

“you're correcting my misspellings now?”

spencer's eyes widen slightly. when the traffic light turns red, he quickly turns to you ready to apologise. but he sees your smirk and backs down, letting out a sigh.

“no,” he says, rolling his eyes. there is still something unsettling about your behavior, he can't point out what. sometimes it just happened, that feeling. he knew something was off without a single glance your way. the red light turned green before he can carry on speaking.

he does it anyway, though his eyes are stuck to the avenue and not on you as he plans to.

“are you okay?”

silence. and then,

“why do you ask?” your voice is soft, almost uncertain. you are hesitant and holding back. something is definitely wrong.

“you're withdrawal. you look tired and you didn't sleep well last night. I'm fairly sure you're a bit pale since this morning.” you're groaning beside him and spencer frowns. you finally arrive at your apartment and he takes a while to park before he turns the engine off. “are you sick? do you have the flu? migraines? cause we could have gone straight home tonight, you know that right? do you have a fev—”

“stop, spencer.” you mumble before his hands reach your forehead to check your temperature. you hate that he notices so much so fast. even though he's quiet about it, spencer is always paying attention. always. “it's not— I'm not sick. don't worry.”

“i'm still worrying.” he replies matter-of-fact, earning a scowl from you. he isn't phased. “should we go to the hospital?”

you huff like a five year old. “i just told you I'm not sick.”

“and I don't believe you.”

somehow, you wish he noticed more so you didn't had to say the truth out loud.

“i'm not sick.” your tone was sharp though you avoid it, it was just how it came out. you were sick of that subject.

spencer frowns. he stops himself before he could ask if you were sure of that statement.

“but I might get sick.” you utter under your breath, unsure about saying it out loud but you already did it. spencer turns to you after he takes off his shoes, a pet peeve of yours is that you hate dirty shoes around the apartment. there's always a few pairs of flipflops by the doorstep in case you have visitors. or they can just walk around in their socks, you had no problem with that, which is what spencer did. “... once in a while.”

“what is going on?” spencer approaches you slowly, his concern starting to create a thousand of theories inside his head. “really, I'm worried—”

“i'm pregnant.” you let out and release the breath you've been holding for what felt like hours. there. it's done. when you open your eyes, you don't look at him but walk straight in the direction of your room. spencer is hot on your heels. you just wanted to shower.

“what— you're— what do you mean?” his frantic voice almost makes you laugh if you weren't so tired with a headache brewing.

“i really need to take a long shower, spencer.”

“I—” he blinks, studying you for a moment before he swallows all of his questions and he sees. he sees what's going on and why your behaviour has been off these days. spencer's very observant, but sometimes he can let one or two hints wander off his radar. “okay.” he wants to hold you but he stays in his spot. if you want space, that's what he will give you. “do you need me to prepare you a bath?” he prays you say yes but you shake your head, entering the bathroom and shutting the door.

he lowers himself down on the edge of bed and stares at nothing as his thoughts swirls around the signs being thrown at his face the whole week. the morning sickness. not being able to stand the smell of any perfume. a sudden dizziness... fuck. how could he have been so clueless?

spencer admits he's always beeng good at physics and chemistry and statistics and he's constantly praised for picking up certain behaviours in his line of work, but he sucks at social cues and most of the times he misses the joke in a room or your sarcasm — though he's infinitely better at detecting that.

he takes pride in knowing you. your little quirks such as the way you press your lips together when you're uncomfortable or when you pick at your cuticles when something is on your mind during a case. he doesn't know how he didn't notice that. really, you spent most of your time together, both at work and outside of work. hell, spencer knows your period cycle. he makes sure to fill his pantry with your favourites sweet and sour snacks for that time of the month. it truly makes no sense how be could be so oblivious.

he knocks twice on the bedroom door, apprehensive and extremely careful. he's afraid by your latest reaction that you don't want him around.

it's actually the opposite.

“come in.” you're finishing getting dressed for the night. one of his old Caltech shirts slipping through your frame as he walks in slowly. you raise a brow in his direction, eyeing his figure standing by the doorway.

“i made you some peppermint tea. it's good for, hm, nausea.”

letting out a sigh at his hesitation, you lift a hand, silently asking him to come closer. “i'm not mad at you.” you clarify, breathing into his neck as he gently pulls you into his arms. “i was frustrated and tired and sore and sleepy. 'm sorry I was rude.” then, you chuckle awkwardly. “and sorry I dropped that bomb on you without a notice.”

he squeezes you, running a hand through your back. “don't be sorry. I understand.”

“are you mad?”

he pulls back a little, stunned that you even asked that. “what? why would I be mad?”

you shrug, meddling with the collar of his work attire he still hasn't taken off. “we didn't plan it. it's not ideal.”

spencer shakes his head, lifting your chin slightly to meet his gaze. “i don't care. I'm here for whatever you decide to do. there's no such thing as ideal.”

your mouth quirks up in the corners and you brush a honey brown curl behind his ear, fingertips trailing down his jaw.

“what?” he nudges your nose with his.

“i love you.” his grin is contagious and you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you. you love him so much.

“and i love you.” you let out a shriek as he pulled you up in his arms, your feet being suspended from the ground. “hey,” he cups your cheeks lovingly. “we'll figure it out. together. alright?”

you nod, warmth flooding through your chest as you close your eyes and lean into his touch. “yeah, yeah, we will.” you mumble in the croak of your boyfriend's neck. “I love you.” you repeat just because you felt like it.

spencer mutters the same three words softly into the crown of your head. and you know everything will be alright.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie ; @ninkieminjaj

#reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction

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cutielando · 16 hours

Note

Can we have a Lando x reader who's a little chubby?

a/n: as a chubby girl myself, i love this ❤️ but please remember guys, you are beautiful just the way you are and nobody should tell you otherwise !!! ❤️❤️

so sorry it took so long, uni has been kicking my ass and i haven't had much time to write :((

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

You hadn’t always had doubts regarding the way you looked.

Seeing so many models around you at every step, feeling the eyes burning into the back of your neck and scrutinizing you for simply the way you looked. But you never cared about any of that.

You weren’t ugly, far from it. You were as beautiful as they come, but slightly a little chubby. You had some meat on your thighs and you weren’t afraid to show it off or feel confident in your body.

Well, that was before.

Ever since you started dating Lando, everything changed.

The amount of eyes that were on you before was nothing compared to the moment when you were introduced to the world as Lando’s girlfriend.

You had decided to keep your relationship a secret for the first couple of months, just until you tested out the waters and figured out what would come of the whole thing. You had tried to limit your expectations from the very beginning, knowing that Lando could leave you for anyone and nobody would ever know.

But it didn’t happen, and you were sure that what you had was real after months and months of expecting the worst.

After many talks, both you and Lando decided that it would be best for you to attend the Silverstone Grand Prix as your first official race as his girlfriend. It was his home Grand Prix, at the end of the way, he wanted you there with his family, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Are you sure you want me to come? I can stay back, I don’t mind” you said as you were waiting for Lando to finish getting ready so you could all leave for the track.

He looked at you, blankly staring at you. You’d had the same conversation 10 times since you guys woke up, and he didn’t know how to stress it well enough that he wanted you there with him.

“Baby, I don’t know how else to say this. I want you there with me, my family wants you there as well. Why are you so nervous?” he was holding your arms, softly running his finger up and down your soft skin.

You had the answer, but you didn’t want to give it to him. You already knew what he was going to say and how he was going to react, but you couldn’t lie to him when he looked at you with those eyes of his that stared deep into your soul.

“I know what people are going to say when they see you with me” you mumbled, staring down at your shoes.

Lando frowned, not understanding what his fans had to do with anything. Why would you care about what his fans would say? He didn’t, why would you?

“What do you mean?” he asked, bringing you closer to his body.

You sighed against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist loosely.

“People are going to say things when they see you with me” your voice was small, unsure of your own words.

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed, confused as to what you meant. But he didn’t say anything when you sighed, letting you get everything off of your chest.

“I don’t look like the girls you are usually seen with, and people noticed that. They always have something to say about the way I look next to you and that I’m not like your exes and that you don’t really like me and are using me for clout. I know it’s not true, but sometimes they get to me” you confessed, a weight slowly lifting off of your conscience.

You weren’t used to being in the public eye as much as Lando, so you’d never before had to deal with people commenting about your appearance and judging every single thing you did or said.

It was something you took a while getting used to, but it was worth it if it meant being with Lando. And Lando was very grateful for all the sacrifices you had made for him.

“Baby, look at me” he said, taking your face in his hands so you would look him in the eyes. “I don’t care what anybody has to say about you. I love you for who you are, just the way you are. You’re gorgeous in my eyes and nobody could ever convince me otherwise” he said, speaking slowly so you could absorb his words carefully.

You looked at him, biting your lip as you studied his face and especially his eyes. They were sincere, holding more honesty and love than you thought you could ever comprehend.

“You mean that?” you whispered, feeling hot tears building into the corners of your eyes.

Lando smiled and leaned down, kissing you deeply. “I love you, and I don’t care what anyone has to say about us. We’re happy, nobody else matters”

You bit your lip again but nodded, prompting a big smile to break out on Lando’s face.

“Then let’s rock Silverstone”

♡♡♡♡♡

The paddock was buzzing when you arrived with Lando and his family. Dozens of fans were screaming your boyfriend’s name, and even though he smiled and waved at them while keeping his distance, you could tell his smile was not 100% honest.

You tried not to look at his fans if you could help it, knowing you would be met with some looks you’d be better off not seeing. Lando saw that, and he only wrapped his arm around your shoulders to keep you even closer as you made your way together to the garage.

“How are you feeling?” Lando asked once you were in the safety of his driver’s room, away from the screaming fans and photographers.

You smiled, your heart warming at the fact that his most pressing concern, even on the toughest race weekends, was you.

“I’m okay, you don’t have to worry about me” you reassured him, smiling lightly.

He looked at you for a moment, studying your face and eyes intently. He didn’t like knowing that his fans were not supportive of his relationship and of you in particular, he thought it was absolutely ridiculous.

“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable being here” he said, sighing before pulling you into a hug.

“I’ve known from the beginning that being in the public eye wouldn’t always be sunshine and roses. This is just an example of that, we can’t control it. People are allowed to have opinions, I just have to learn how to deal with them” you said, enjoying the warmth emanating from his body.

Lando nodded, but still felt like he should make it clear how wrong everybody else was about you.

He pulled away from the hug, only to take your face in his hands. “I want you to know that, no matter what anyone might say, I love you just the way you are. I don’t care if you’re skinny, if you’re a little chubby, if you have short or long hair, I care about you in any form. I love you for who you are, not for the way you look” he said, making tears well up in the corners of your eyes.

You had always known Lando loved you, but this right there proved it to you 1000 times over.

Not being able to resist, you practically threw yourself against his body, kissing him so fiercely you both became lightheaded. Pouring every ounce of love you felt for one another into a kiss, sealing a promise that you would always be there to lift each other up, no matter what.

Why?

Because nothing else mattered besides you two.

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6ix9inewiturmom · 2 days

Text

The Scare- Chris Sturniolo

Summary: you end up having one of the biggest pregnancy scares of your life while chris is in boston

Warnings: Cursing, Crying, use of Y/N, talks of sex, taking a pregnancy test

A/n: may be tmi but lowkey relate to this so this was easy to write LMFAOO, ENJOY

PSA: DO NOT USE MY WORK FOR “inspiration” OR ANYTHING ELSE!!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chris has been in Boston for the last 2 weeks, and he's finally coming home. I decided to shower and shave before he came home because that man is the most sexually active 20-year-old I've ever met, the Facetime sex at 3 am for him isn't nearly enough to satisfy both of our needs.

After my hour-long shower, I'm digging through my shared bathroom with Chris in an attempt to find my body lotion to prevent my dry ass skin in this heat when I find my box of tampons, which got me thinking I haven't had a period in a while and Chris and I aren't the safest people when it comes to sex because neither of us can even remember to put a condom on, it always fucks up my mood.

“Shit,” I say to my self.

Chris and I are only 20 and with his career there's no fucking way in HELL we can have a kid or even raise a kid, I am nowhere near ready to raise an actual child.

I open my Flo app and see the little circle that's normally red is grey ‘1 week late’

“Shit shit shit,” I say out loud again, panicking.

I can't keep it from him, he's gonna see the pregnancy test in the trash. Would he be mad if I kept it from him? Should I just tell him? Should I go to Tara?

After about 30 minutes of standing in the bathroom looking at the message in my phone, panicking about what to do, I just decided I was gonna tell Chris, he loves me, and we've talked about having kids way later in life anyway, he couldn't be mad.

I finally built up the courage and got dressed in a pair of tight ripped jeans and a baby tee, with some Converse, and sat on the couch waiting for Chris to come home going through Tiktok and whatever else was on my phone.

“BABY IM HOME” Chris yells from the stairs

I squeal in excitement as I spot Chris and run towards him. Jumping into his arms, he effortlessly lifts me, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist.

“Umm Y/N there are other people here too you know? Also, Chris get out of the fucking way so we can fucking put our shit down” Nick says in annoyance.

“Well hello to you too Nick,” I say jumping out of Chris’ arms moving out of the doorway, and letting Matt and Nick come inside the house.

“Sorry babes, we've all been up since about 6 am Boston time trying to catch our flight we almost missed because your fucking boyfriend wouldn't get the hell out of bed” Nick replies sending me a soft smile and giving me a soft hug.

“To be fair none of us went to bed at a decent time, mom was making sure we had everything packed so we didn't leave anything behind” matt defends.

“Thank you, Matt, now Y/N do you wanna take a nap? I know we were gonna go out to dinner but I'm very fucking jet lagged and kinda just want to order dinner and watch movies with you” Chris wraps his arms around my waist nuzzling his head between my neck as my hands rest on his shoulders.

“Thats fine with me i don't mind” i pull away from his embrace and smile at him.

Chris grabs his luggage and my hand and guides me to our shared bedroom. As we enter the room he seats his luggage down and plops on the bed letting out a groan of frustration.

“I have missed this damn bed, don't ask me how I slept in that bed at my mom's house for god knows how long because this one is so much more comfortable,” Chris says adjusting the way he's laying to rest his head down on the pillows. “Now after 2 weeks of no sex and just my right hand, I'm gonna need to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you” he smirks at me patting his lap and signaling me to sit on it.

“Yeah so about that” give him an awkward smile “So I didn't know how to approach this to you, 'cause you know we're not the most responsible sexually active humans” I start babbling getting nervous of his reaction based on the puzzled look on his face.

“Y/N what the hell are you getting at? cause if you don’t wanna have sex with me right now that’s fine just say that, but considering our last facetime call the constant ‘oh chris i need your cock’ was really misleading to me” he says with a puzzled faced.

“Chris i’m late” i breathe out.

“late for what? did we have reservations for dinner? did you have something for work?” he says with frustration in his voice.

“No Chris my period, I'm late, my period is LATE, I'm 1 week late today,” I say aggressively from his lack of acknowledgement.

“wait we haven’t had sex in 2 weeks? i’m confused” he sits up moving to the edge of the bed.

“last time we had sex i was ovulating, remember when i told you like a while ago that if im ovulating means im FERTILE?” i say in frustration.

“Fuck” he runs his fingers through his hair “Did you take a test? Do you know for sure that you are pregnant?” he questions

“No, and no, I didn't wanna take a test without you, and I for SURE didn't wanna hide it from you,” I say softly sitting next to him on the bed.

“So why the hell are you freaking out now? You don't know for sure that you are” he asks placing his head in his hands.

“Because you and I are nowhere near ready for a fucking kid Chris, your career, and my inability to even fucking care for myself some days, yeah there's no fucking way I can care for a child who can't even speak on its emotions, Chris” I stand up out of frustration and start pacing.

I can tell Chris obviously got upset with my statement about our ability to care for a child but i was stressed and honestly wasn't thinking.

"I want you to know that I care about you deeply, Y/N. If you are indeed pregnant, please know that I will do everything in my power to support you and our child. Even if it means giving up my career, I will do it willingly. Let's go get a pregnancy test and we can talk about everything else later, okay? I am here for you, and I will always be." he says, his voice filled with empathy and understanding as he gently cups my cheeks in his hands, rubbing them softly up and down and warm smile spreads across his face.

As our eyes meet, a warm smile spreads across his face and I can't help but return it. He takes my hand in his and gently guides me towards the living room, his grip firm yet gentle. The coolness of his skin against mine sends shivers down my spine.

“Girl, were you guys arguing? Normally after we come home from Boston it's all ‘Oh Chris more, more’ typically a traumatic event” Nick says mocking me with a smile plastered across his face.

“Y/N and I are running to CVS so well be back in a little,” Chris says walking him and me down the stairs and to my car.

The drive to CVS was filled with a bunch of conversations and laughter, talking about if I was pregnant how we would raise our child, and Chris talking about the dad jokes he's gonna have, and considering he's a triplet he carries the genetic that I'm probably gonna twins or triplets.

“How many of these things do we need? What brand is best? why are there so many options?” Chris says holding 3 boxes of pregnancy tests and struggling to figure out which one to pick “fuck it why don't we buy all of them and use one pack tonight then we'll have the extra on hand in case our irresponsibility gets the best of us” he continues.

Chris and I walked up to the front counter and dropped the boxes of tests. The worker behind the counter took a look at the tests and then looked back at us, giving us a fake smile. After ringing up the purchase, we made our way to my car.

“So do you think you are pregnant?” Chris says breaking the silence.

“I mean normally my cycles are normal and a week late is not normal at all but it could be my hormones changing or something, but I do wanna make sure,” I say glancing at Chris nervously biting his nails.

“You were right about how irresponsible we are with our sex lives but when we first started fucking we knew the risk of everything and I mean our kids would be pretty cute,” he says placing his hand on my leg and rubbing a small circle with his thumb.

Chris and I pulled up into the driveway. As we got out of the car, he held my hand tightly and carried the CVS bag in the other hand as we made our way into the house and up the staircase.

“did you get any snacks?” Nick says eating a bowl of popcorn on the couch with Matt watching the most random movie on Netflix.

“Uhm no I just got a couple of personal things” I say nervously holding up the bag and sending a warm smile to Nick.

Chris and I pretty much B lined to the bathroom, anxiously “So which one do we use?” Chris says looking down at the boxes.

“Just give me the one that says Clearblue” i say softly laughing as Chris opens the box for me and inspects it before handing me the little stick.

“Do you want me to hold the stick while you piss? I'm sorry I have no idea how these things work” he says laughing allowing his back to slide down the wall and sit with his back against the shower door.

“Chris it's fine i know how to use these, believe me my friends in highschool weren't the most responsible either” I say laughing beginning to pee on the little white and blue stick.

“So how long do we wait?” Chris says helping me take a seat on the floor next to him.

“5 minutes” I breathe out setting a 5-minute timer on my phone and leaning my head against the shower door.

As we sat in the bathroom, waiting for the pregnancy test to show its result, the silence felt palpable. It wasn't an awkward silence, but rather a deafening one that seemed to fill the entire room. With just the two of us present, we anxiously waited for the five minutes to pass.

“Would it be a bad thing if I wanted it to be positive?” Chris chuckles.

“I wouldn't necessarily say a bad thing, there's a part of me that kind of wants it to be positive too” i smile back at Chris.

The alarm on my phone quickly broke the once-loving moment sending us into a panic. Chris and I stand up walking to the counter.

“Wait should we film it in case you are then we could always have it if you could be pregnant?” Chris’ gaze softens as he looks at me.

“Chris not the time” I softly laugh out.

“Right,” he nods smiling back at me. “WAIT” he grabs my hand “Whatever happens, I love you,” he says in a serious tone.

With a warm smile, I gaze lovingly at him and reciprocate his affectionate words, "I love you too Christopher." However, my attention is quickly drawn towards the counter where the pregnancy test lays face down, taunting my nerves. With trembling hands, I muster up the courage to pick it up and slowly turn it around to face me, my heart pounding in anticipation of the result.

‘Not Pregnant’

“YES, MORE CREAMPIES” Chris shrieks wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me up, and spinning me around as I giggle out of excitement.

He carefully seats me down back flat on my feet. Our moment was quickly interrupted by both Nick and Matt barging through the door.

“ARE YOU GUYS- wait is that a pregnancy test? Y/N ARE YOU PREGNANT?” Nick yelled as Matt's eyes widened at the little blue stick in my hands.

“Please for the love of god, I don't want a little Chris running around, or two, or even three” Matt places his hand on his forehead.

“No she is not” Chris chuckles at the boys’ comment.

“THANK YOU,” matt and nick say in unison.

“Wrap it before you tap it next time Chris,” Nick says walking away and back to the living room.

“Now I'll say it again, after 2 weeks of Facetime sex I would like to absolutely fuck your brains out” Chris says smirking down at me.

“Please do” I smile as he picks me up gripping the backs of my thighs as my legs wrap around his waist leading me to the bedroom.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N pt 2: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THISSSSSS AND TYSM TO @cosmicmistake42069 FOR THIS INSPIRATION!!

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo

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watermelonlovershigh · 3 days

Text

A Shift Occurs {part 4.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

Friends Who Share Mutual Emotions {part 3.} (housemate!harry series)

AN: excited to be putting out a smutty fic since i haven't in a while. i hope you enjoy part 4. feel free to help put inspo into this series by sending me things you'd like to see happen in this story. remember to reblog and leave your feedback. enjoy!!!

This story contains: fluff, smut, handjob and male receiving oral, talks of using vibrator

{ housemate!harry - softrry - friend!harry - au harry - harry's occupation is a teacher }

word count- 2,373

Your friendship is progressing quicker than anticipated and when Harry wakes up with morning wood, you decide to help his situation out.

It's been three days since the mutual confessions of your feelings and to be completely honest, there has been little change as far as how the two of you interact. Apart from the absence of casual encounters, daily routines within the house remain unchanged from the time when you were merely housemates and just friends. But, you have noticed some subtle differences.

On Saturday night, you followed your usual routine. As the clock struck seven, you opted for Chinese take-out and settled on the couch to watch a movie. Eventually fatigue overcame you and you made the choice to call it a night. Although you had shared a bed earlier in the day during the morning nap, you believed that spending an entire night together would be rushing things, so you decided to go your separate ways.

However, following an hour of restlessness, Harry reached a point where he could no longer bear it. He rose from his bed and made his way across the hallway to your room. Being polite, he softly tapped on the door and upon hearing the invitation, "Come in," he cautiously entered. The room was dimly lit, but the moonlight filtering through the window provided just enough illumination for him to see your confused silhouette.

Curiously, you questioned, "Har... what are you doing?" while observing Harry confidently approaching your unoccupied side of the bed, dressed in only a pair of black boxer briefs. Without seeking consent, he smoothly pulled back the duvet and comfortably nestled himself beside you.

"Couldn't sleep." Harry answered before continuing, "Ever since this mornin' where we took that nap together and cuddled, I realized just how much I love sharing a bed and cuddlin' with someone. Hope this was alright."

Looking over at him as he got settled under the blankets, you replied, "Yeah, it's fine. Just thought you wanted to take this whole thing slow s'all."

"Y/n, when I said we should take our relationship slow, I meant sex. Sharing a bed and cuddlin' doesn't have to equal sex. It's purely platonic." At Harry's words, you had mixed emotions. Yes you agreed in wanting to take your progressive friendship at a slow pace but on the other hand, you also want to jump his bones every time you look into his grassy green eyes.

Since Harry was the one to take the brave step in coming into your bedroom, you made the brave step in sliding over until your body was right next to his. Quietly, you asked, "Big spoon or little spoon?"

Shyly giggling, Harry answered, "Little spoon."

"Okay, turn on your side for me." He did as told and you tightly wrapped your body around his back and hugged him to your chest. Just like Harry, you're a big cuddler too. Hence why most of the time you allowed your one-night stands to sleep over. Just to have a cuddle partner throughout the night.

The restlessness Harry had at the start of the night was now gone as you spooned him and sleep followed shortly after.

---------------------------

Every night since Saturday night you've shared a bed together. Either you sleep in Harry's bed or he sleeps in yours. It's become routine at this point and you both find comfort in sleeping together. Nothing more has happened in your developing relationship. Besides the accidently touch of your clothed boobs or the time your knee accidently grazed Harry's covered cock sometime throughout the night.

On the following Sunday morning though, a shift occurs. As you awaken, you find yourself nestled in Harry's bed, with his body curled around yours. The gentle exhalations of his warm breath brush against your neck, while his chest presses against your back. However, amidst this intimate embrace, you also become aware of another sensation. Something is prodding against your ass. You aren't oblivious to its nature, yet you find yourself uncertain about how to go about this situation.

It's a dilemma whether to ignore Harry's morning boner or to assist his problem in order to potentially advance your relationship. You don't want to make him feel uncomfortable, but also ponder if his desire to take things slow is actually for your benefit. Perhaps Harry is being cautious for your sake, and he might be ready to take your friendship to the next level.

Allowing desire to take over your judgement, you slowly back your bum up against his hardened cock and subtly move your hips, hoping the feeling gives him some sort of relief. Approximately thirty seconds go by before you hear a deep grunt coming from behind you. Then suddenly you feel Harry's body jump back until you're no longer touching one another.

You decide to turn around so you're facing his direction and once you get a good look at him, you see his large hand covering his face in what you presume is embarrassment. "Um, sorry 'bout that." Harry mummers aloud. He has no control over getting an erection in his sleep and the fact it happened while spooning you, it's so embarrassing for you to witness.

"Hey," you coo softly, scooting closer to his body, "you don't need to be embarrassed. It happens and it's natural. You know, I don't mind helping you out if you want."

Harry finally takes his hand away from his face and turns his head to look at you. "Y/n, what about the takin' it slow thing?"

"Harry, you also shared the importance of things moving naturally and I'd say they are. If things naturally progress fast then we should allow it instead of ignoring it. I don't mind helping your problem out. Know you must be aching." Once you're finished speaking, you place your hand on his bare belly and teasingly drag your fingers lower and lower. "Only if you're comfortable with that idea."

His longing for your touch surpasses everything else and he nods, uttering, "Um, yeah. If you want, you can help." Now assured of his agreement, you gradually move your fingers downwards until they reach the edge of his boxers. Before proceeding further, you steal a quick glance at Harry's face, searching for any hesitation, but there are none. With certainty, you slip your fingers beneath the elastic band encircling his narrow hips.

Your fingers pass over the patch of trimmed hairs before finally bumping into the hardness you felt against your ass a couple minutes prior. Carefully and without seeing, you take ahold of his morning wood and began to tug gently at his foreskin. This isn't your first rodeo. You know what your doing. You just hope Harry's enjoying what you're doing. And by the looks of it, he is.

Harry's leaning against his pillow, head thrown back, and a quiet gasp escapes his throat. The feeling of your hand wrapped around his cock exceeds all the fantasies he had while pleasuring himself and imagining your touch.

As you skillfully stroke him with your dominant hand, an overwhelming surge of arousal consumes you, causing your clitoris to pulsate with need. Despite the almost unbearable sensation, you set aside your own desires, dedicating yourself entirely to Harry's pleasure.

The room begins to get hot and stuffy so Harry reaches down to toss the covers off his lap. This gives you a better view of your hand down his briefs. After a few minutes of stroking his dick in your hand, you start feeling some resistant and realize the dryness may be uncomfortable for Harry. You could retreat your hand and lick your palm before going back to the handjob. Or, you could do something even better.

In one swift motion, you pull your hand out of Harry's underwear and crawl between his spread thighs. Now on your knees in front of his lying figure, you lean over his lap and tug the fabric down until it's cradled under his enlarged balls. "What are you......" he goes to ask but you cut him off.

"Shhh." You crouch down and glide your tongue over a thick vein along his shaft. He's larger than you imagined. You had an inkling of his size from how thick and heavy he felt in your hands, but now, face to face with it, he's huge. And it's not just huge, it's also aesthetically pleasing. The prettiest penis you've ever laid eyes on, and you wouldn't normally consider penises to be remarkably beautiful. It's no wonder why so many men and women enjoyed their nights with him.

A deep groan escapes Harry's lips as he's consumed by an overwhelming wave of pleasure, leaving him feeling dizzy. He never imagined you would go all out with a blowjob this morning. While a handjob is pleasurable, a blowjob is an even more exhilarating experience. You expertly guide his pulsating head to your lips and playfully flick your tongue over his sensitive slit. This action causes Harry to instinctively pull away, unable to bear the intense sensitivity.

In order to maintain his stability, you position your hands on both sides of his hips and decide you've teased long him enough. Gradually, you lower your head onto his large cock. However, as you reach approximately halfway down his length, he reaches the back of your throat, causing you to gag. Momentarily, you withdraw and apologize. "Sorry, it has been a while since I've gave a blowjob."

Harry lifts his head from the pillow and gently cups the sides of your face. "Don't worry about it. Just take it easy. You don't have to go all the way down and potentially make yourself sick. Just take what you can and it will still feel good f'me." He speaks from experience, having gave blowjobs before and knowing the struggle of trying to push beyond your limits. It only results in a sore throat and a stomach ache from gagging too much.

With a nod, you lean forward and proceed to take Harry into your mouth once again. Except this time you halt just before his tip reaches the back of your throat. Shifting one of your hands from his hip to the base of his penis, you skillfully maneuver your mouth up and down, while simultaneously twisting and tugging his shaft with your hand.

Harry thinks he's in heaven. He must be. Because nothing has ever felt this good before. None of his previous one-night stands has ever gave him this good of a blowjob. Not even the ones who could skillfully deepthroat him. Nor has any of his few actual relationships gave such a good blowjob. It must be the connection and feelings he has for you that's making this experience so amazing. It means more coming from you.

You suck and tug repeatedly until Harry is close to reaching orgasm in your mouth. Uncertain if you want him to come in your mouth, he alerts you, "Y/n... M' gonna come." Rather than withdrawing as he anticipates, you descend a bit further. This time, you successfully manage to control your gag reflex and intensify your sucking until you feel Harry releasing his warm cum in your mouth.

Harry tightly clutches his sheets, his hips involuntarily thrust upwards as he reaches his climax. You softly gag once but quickly regain your composure. He tastes better then some of the guys you've tasted before. It's a bit salty but doesn't have that pungent taste some men tend to have. Must be Harry's healthy diet.

Gradually, his limbs grow weak, and as his orgasm subsides, his body begins relaxing on the bed. You remove his wet and slippery cock from your mouth, observing Harry lying there, breathing heavily with his eyes firmly closed. Reeling what just happened.

With a croaky voice, you shyly question, "Was that good?"

"Was that good? Was it GOOD??" Harry repeats dramatically, "Oh my God, Y/n, best fuckin' blowjob I've ever had."

You playfully swat at his thighs. "Be serious, Harry."

Sitting up and tucking his limp penis back into his briefs, Harry continues his praises. "M' bein' very serious, Y/n. No one has ever made me come that hard. Not a one-night stand or any of the relationships I was in. You're a pro for sure."

For a moment the air feels heavy until you annonce, "Welp, I'm gonna go take a shower. I'm meeting up with some friends for brunch at noon."

In response, Harry mustered up a somewhat awkward reply, "Um, alright. Enjoy your shower." Left alone on his bed, Harry found himself half naked and still catching his breath from the intense orgasm he experienced a few minutes prior. He had intended to ask if he could reciprocate the favor, but you had already left before he had the chance too. It crossed his mind that perhaps you weren't interested in having the favor returned.

Maybe you don't particularly enjoy oral sex performed on you. Uncertain about your preferences, Harry's confident that if given the opportunity to perform cunnilingus on you, you'd undoubtedly fall in love with his skillful tongue. Just like the all the previous women who's praised his mouths abilities.

The truth is, you had desired Harry to return the favor. However, due to just waking up, you were unsure if your pussy smelled okay, let alone tasted alright. To avoid any negative response from him like you've had in the past from guys, you left before he could catch a glimpse of your moist cunt.

Nevertheless, because you're still experiencing a slight throb in your underwear, you discreetly brought one of your silicone vibrators into the shower to quickly satisfy yourself. Although you're certain that Harry's oral skills would have been superior, you'll have to wait a bit longer to get to experience that.

Once out of the shower, you dried off and got dressed to head out for the brunch you had planned with some friends. It was going to be at a small cafe in downtown London. As for Harry, he didn't really have any plans for today. Besides catching up on grading some tests his students took the Friday before. He hopes you're available tonight because he wishes to be able to spend more time with you. He loves spending time with you. He loves y..... Nope too soon for that.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet // @meetmyblondemuffins // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles // @skyangel57 // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss // @kissmyaxe140 // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom // @swiftmendeshoran

// @luv-flor7777 // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone // @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry // @shadowygladiatorlight // @manifestrry //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

Friends Who Share Mutual Emotions {part 3.} (housemate!harry series)

#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic rec #friend!harry #friendrry #housemate!harry #housematerry #softrry #soft!harry #harry x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #friends to lovers #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #teacher!harry

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mousedetective · 1 day

Text

URGENT! Please Help A Homeless, Disabled & Mostly Queer Family Get Ready For Housing By Helping With Paying For Much-Needed Loans!

PAYPAL | AMAZON WISHLIST | KOFI | GOFUNDME

VENMO: @penaltywaltz | CASHAPP: $afteriwake23 | ZELLE: DM me for email address

4/29/24 - New Post

So some stuff has happened, some of the loans I listed before have been paid, and I missed a few things, so I'm making a new post!

So, we still haven't heard about Section 8, and while I'm grateful for the shelter housing and feeding us, there's been some pretty toxic activity on my floor and I'm at my wit's end. I'm not sleeping well, I have constant headaches from grinding my teeth, and my blood pressure (which is already high and I'm already on meds for it) keeps being high when I get it checked. So we need to get housing with or without the Section 8 voucher as soon as possible.

Now, I have a list of low-income apartments all over North County. While not ideal, we have also heard of a complex of studio apartments available for $1400 which give preferential treatment to shelter occupants. But the problem is that I not only have a bunch of payday loans to pay, but I also have a payment on a two-month loan, a five-month loan, a six-month loan, and a year-long loan that eat up my entire income until I at least pay off the first three. My mom only gets $1300 and my daughter isn't on disability yet. So we can't even afford the studio until October and we'll have been kicked out of the shelter long before then.

I can probably cover the remaining payday loans and this month's payment for the two-month loan and still pay for the storage units. But I need to pay off whatever I can on the other loans, and the longer I wait the more interest that compiles. So I need a lot more than I was asking for before and I need it quickly to cover at least all of this month's payments while I work on paying off the totals of the bigger loans.

This is the list of payments I need to make as it stands now:

$300 for my loan from Ace Cash Express (due by May 2nd)

$300 for my mom's loan from Ace Cash Express (due May 2nd)

$408 for my loan payment from Ascend Loans (due May 3rd)

$277 for my loan payment from Greenline Loans (due May 3rd)

$177 for my loan payment from Green Arrow Loans (due May 3rd)

$148 for my loan payment to Possible Loans (due May 3rd)

$148 for my mom's loan payment to Possible Loans (due May 3rd)

$321.80 for my mom's loan from Moneylion (due by May 15th)

$285 for my Moneytree loan (due by May 25th)

$285 for my mom's Moneytree loan (due by May 26th)

I can't make partial payments on any of these loans except the Moneylion loans my mom has. I need the full amount for the payment to pay it off early, and for the four non-payday loans, I can't make an early payment but if I can cover the payments in my bank account with donations I'm good.

The Ascend loan was for $1,000. The Greenline loan was for $500. The Green Arrow loan was for $400. The Possible loans are $300 each, coming out as two payments of $148 (one this May, one in June) per loan. So I'm going to set two goals: covering all of the above payments and then covering the bigger loans as a whole throughout the month of May.

I can't take much more of the toxicity at the shelter at the moment, though I have hopes some of it will subside if the most toxic resident on my floor leaves this week like he's threatening to, but yeah. We just need to get all this paid off and get into housing of our own, even if it's just a studio for now. I'm including the $35 I got from a GFM towards the current totals because I spent all the rest of the money I had and I still haven't gotten that donation in my account yet.

TOTAL GOAL: $47/$4850

IMMEDIATE GOAL: $47/$2650

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nightsmarish · 2 days

Note

Hello luv <3 could you possibly write a prongsfoot or wolfstar x reader and they take her to get a new piercing?? maybe they accidentally keep hitting or helping her clean it and stuff :)))

Poly!prongsfoot x fem!reader (James Potter x fem!reader x Sirius black) | 900+ words

A/n: first of all: omg, my first rq, very very happy, thank you so much babes <3. Second: I am on a piercing ban rn and I am dying for the ban to break so this made me sooooo jealous

T/w: reader is suggested to have multiple ear peircings, needles, still learning to write James, Sirius works in a bar

★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡

"What if this is a bad idea?" You haven't even gotten out of the car and into the building when you start second guessing yourself.

"Love, you've wanted this for a while, I thought?" James is getting out of the backseat and opening your door on the passenger side.

"I do, but it's my first face peircing, what if it looks bad?" James kneels next to your seat in the car while you fiddle with your hands, eyes focused on them, rather than the worry on James' face that will undoubtedly make you melt.

"Doll, you're gonna look hot as fuck, I promise you that much." Sirius turns in the driver's seat to face you, left hand moving to the back of your head, stroking the nape of your neck. "And either way, if you get it and, after a few months, hate it, you can take it out."

You all sit there for a moment before you stop fidgeting and look between the two boys. "Sorry, I don't know why I'm freaking out now, ive been planning this for weeks now." You laugh, trying to ease the tension that's accidently set.

"It's okay, love." James gently grabs your face, turning you to face him and kissing you softly. "You still wanna get it?"

"Yeah, I do."

ᯓ★

You all manage to get through the door of the peircing shop.

You sit in the chair, Sirius holding your hand and James looking away because needles freak him out, but he was adamant he would be a form of moral support.

The piercer uses the forcep clamp and you're pretty sure the needle is in their other hand, but you've had your eyes closed for a while now. And honestly, based off the videos you watched, it's probably for the best you don't see the needle.

"Okay, breath in through your mouth." Their voice is soothing as you take in a breath, albeit a little shaky.

"And a deep breath out..." your hand forms a death grip on Sirius' hand as the needle punctures your nose.

"Good job. I'm going to put the jewelry in now; one more deep breath in." Your hand keeps its hold on Sirius, "and out." The jewelry swiftly replaces the needle. "Okay, and you're done."

While paying and leaving, your hand never leaves the boy until you reach the car.

"Let me see." James once again gently grabs your face once the three of you are near the car. "Dear Merlin, that looks amazing."

"Yes it does, and you took it like a bloody champ, doll." The other boy adds.

"Yeah? It looks good?"

"Obviously." He overlaps one of James hand and leans in to kiss you.

"Wait- no- no kisses right now." Both boys drop their hands from your face.

"Are you okay?" James brows are furrowed in concern.

"I'm- I'm just scared you'll hit it and it will hurt."

The paler of the two laughs a bit but looks at you so fondly you could melt into a puddle like the wicked witch of the west. "Fine- fine then. No kisses. For now."

ᯓ★

You're sitting on the couch when James gets home a few days later, book open as you read.

James toes off his shoes and walks behind the couch, tilting your chin to lean down and kiss you.

You instinctively let him, used to the little routine the three of you have. But dear fuck, you didn't consider how much it would hurt for his nose to hit your very sore one during a kiss.

"Fucking-" You pull back, hand going to your nose to shield it as if some invisible source is gonna sucker punch you.

"Shit- sorry, love, I didn't even think about your new piercing." James rounds the couch to sit next to you, putting your book fave down on the coffee table to keep your place.

"It's okay, Jamie, really." You move your hand away and rake your nails through his hair.

"'M sorry anyway." He leans in again, this time kissing your hairline instead of your cheek.

Sirius had been up in the bedroom, having a night shift at the bar he worked at, so he was sleeping most of the day. But his shift starts in an hour, and he wants to at *least* see you two before he has to see drunk people for 8 hours.

Padding down the staircase in your townhouse, Sirius sees you and James on the couch, you with tears lining your eyes.

"Bloody Merlin, baby, don't try and kill the girl, prongs." Sirius jokes as he makes his way to the couch as well.

"I didn't do anything!" James whips his head around to Sirius, who cuts him off with a kiss before he can continue to defend himself any further.

"He kissed me and it hurt like a bitch." Your voice is slightly whinny, desperately wanting your shorter boyfrienda attention.

"Oh, my poor girl, James is hurting you with his love again?" Sirius coos as he sits between you two, but it's more like on both your laps, grabbing the sides of your face to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I said sorry!" He attempts to defend himself again, "I didn't mean to."

"Sounds like it was an accident, huh, doll?" Sirius speaks in-between kisses on your face.

"Seems so." You murmur.

"Either way, seems only James can properly kiss me now." He grins at you before grabbing James' face, more aggressively than needed, and smashing their lips together.

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dduane · 3 days

Note

What are your thoughts on companies like this that offer 'coaching services' for hopeful unpublished novelists?

This smells of scam to me but maybe I'm just a cynic:

Publishing Your Book

Query Letter Coaching/Editing – $550 per book (this includes two passes)

Synopsis Coaching & Editing – $750 per book (this includes two passes)

Proposal Coaching & Editing – $1,500 per book

Traditional Publishing Coaching – $200/hour (finding an agent, crafting your proposal, etc.)

Indie Publishing – $1000 (distribution to all platforms for optimal international exposure, guidance on pricing, blurb-writing, logistics, and keywords)

ISBNs for Indie Publishing – $150 per book format. Free if publishing through [the company selling these coaching services]

Briefly: before I got involved with any such operation, I'd want to talk to (multiple) people they'd worked with previously and find out what kinds of experiences they'd had. And in line with this, I'd be extremely cautious about any operation that wasn't run by professionals with a verifiable track record, and which wouldn't offer verifiable examples of feedback from people whose reality as non-sockpuppets could also be confirmed. And whom you could contact without having to go through the company in question.

On other issues: I'm looking kind of askance at some of those prices. (Here adding the disclaimer: I know people who do this kind of work out of a grounding of significant expertise and in good faith, and I'm not clear on what they're charging because I haven't really looked into it... not particularly needing it myself at this late stage in the game.)

At least part of the problem I'm having with the prices being charged in your example is based on the knowledge of how very much information of this kind is available free online. And yeah, there's the old chestnut about "The advice is worth what you've paid for it"... but that has sort of an unspoken negative corollary: "Except when you've paid for it and it nonetheless turns out not to have been worth much."

The trouble with the non-independent-publishing suggestions is that all of them deal with imponderables. Even if all the advice you purchase from those people at all those varied prices is absolutely right on the money, there's still no way to guarantee that any of it is going to lead to success in getting query letters, synopses or proposals actually looked at. Which puts this whole concept squarely in the nature of a gamble.

Not that luck doesn't have a role to play in a professional writing career. Sometimes you're just standing in the right place at the right time with a manuscript in your hands. But getting the idea that you can depend on that luck for any reason is unwise... as divine Fortuna is anciently famous for wandering all over the room, blowing on other folks' dice. (And if this makes me sound like I fall well down on the "Fortune Favors The Prepared" end of the spectrum: yeah, that.)

My advice would be to spend a good long while online, thoroughly researching all the free sites that have info to offer on all the traditional-publishing-facing topics. Then, after exhausting the available possibilities, if you still think you need to engage paid professional assistance... make inquiries among as many verifiable professionals as you can non-invasively query, before parting with any money at all.

As regards the indie-oriented fees: I'm finding those pretty steep. The prices for ISBNs in particular bother me. (Especially since in many places you can routinely buy packages of ten for about what these folks would charge you for two.) Yes, they're free if you publish with them: that sounds lovely. But publishers would normally buy many of those packages of ten. Or packages of a hundred: the more ISBNs you buy at once, the cheaper they get. And if you're paying the company for other services, who cares about the ISBNs? They're making money off you in different ways. Possibly equally overpriced ones.

So to finish: this is very much caveat emptor territory. There will inevitably be scammers out there, claiming their rates to be less than "bigger companies" are charging, but still too much. Therefore... advance only with utmost care.

...And adding this: @petermorwood glanced at the price list over my shoulder and said, "I wouldn't touch any of those with a barge pole."

At any rate: HTH!

...And now a word regarding our regrettably fickle non-sponsor, via Ol' Blue Eyes. :)

#writing #writing advice #paying for breaking-in coaching #writing meta

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icedroppedinparasolcider · 2 days

Text

Momoi Airi is a Trans Woman

This is headcanon at the end of the day and there's nothing wrong with disagreeing, but the way she's written regarding her sense of identity as an idol, the choice of phrasing they use when she talks about herself in reference to others (namely Shizuku), and the connections her visual motifs provide to concepts and other characters tied to or commonly seen as trans just makes it incredibly hard for me to view her otherwise.

A lot of what I have to say is very personal to me; I'm a trans woman myself, and Airi's writing and experiences connect with me and my own transition journey in a way I haven't really seen anywhere else in media (I'm not a very prolific media consumer). So it's entirely possible a lot of this is just me projecting onto a character I care a lot about. But while I've adored Airi before this revelation, I didn't reach the level of attachment I have for her until the realisation of just how well she's written through the lens of a trans girl. Specifically one who's, for the most part, entirely socially transitioned but keeping the fact she is trans secret.

When Airi was little, she was, as she herself describes, very boyish. She'd get into physical fights with boys around the neighbourhood or at school, she'd come home most days covered in dirt and mud from playing with her majority boy friend group of the time. She was intensely defensive of her little sister, most of her fights being with possibly bigger-than-her boys because they were mean to her sister. It formed a reputation for Airi, a reputation that followed her as she began to deviate from these patterns and pivot her interests and activities hard and fast thanks to starting to watch idols on TV. She was enamoured with them, would rewatch recordings of their performances and interviews over and over so she could emulate it and be more like them. She'd stop getting into fights, stop playing with her rougher friends; everything started changing dramatically thanks to her being introduced to a new "type" of woman: an idol. Something Airi wanted to become, and was willing to change everything about her to be.

These changes weren't socially easy for her, though, with backlash coming from these old friends and classmates because of how girly she was trying to become. The idea of being a tomboy was something Airi started to consider a bad thing, a gross thing. During her Colourful Festival side-story, To You Who Yearns To Be an Idol, amidst a conversation with her younger self Airi calls the little girl a tomboy, something that makes the younger Airi immediately deflate and shy away from the conversation. It upset her to be called that, especially by an idol, something she wants to become. Which leads to the younger Airi talking about how she's been treated by her peers for changing the way she dresses and not playing the same way she used to, for changing the way she talks, with her being talked to like she's doing something horrible and wrong for simply chasing a dream of who she wants to be. And in this conversation, Airi says a particular line that changed everything for me:

This is said in response to Little Airi's repeating of what the boys in her class call her as she wears cuter, girly clothes. That she's some big, mean monster who shouldn't wear things like that, who could never become an idol. Effectively telling her that she could never be a girl because of the way she used to behave. She started as someone rough, someone harsh and dirty, that's not something she should—not something she could—change. Something we see in present day that she's largely internalised through her struggles with what it means to be an idol, her struggles with calling herself an idol.

For Airi, being an Idol and being a Girl have become synonymous with each other. Her ability to be an idol, to draw that attention, have a smile that sparkles on stage and in front of the camera, spread hope and joy to other people; this part of her identity has grown beyond her job, it's who she is as an individual. Being Momoi Airi, the second year Miyajo student, is inseparable from Momoi Airi, the ex-QT member and now member of MORE MORE JUMP! And if she can't be the image of an idol that exists in her head, that she's always viewed idols to be, that Haruka and Shizuku manage to embody, that Minori is becoming, then can Airi even really call herself as much of a person, of a woman, as them?

Airi's been in this constant uphill battle where she believes she doesn't sparkle as much as the other idols around her, so she puts more effort into learning how to make herself sparkle, but manages to convince herself that because she struggles with this, she's less of an idol than those very peers. It's in large part what Ice Drop is about, Airi's difficulty finding satisfaction with her work as an idol because it doesn't shape up to her own expectations and beliefs of what an idol "should be", because it doesn't match what she sees other idols she looks up to, like Shizuku, doing. Something also portrayed during Airi's conversation with Shizuku in Chasing the Radiance Beyond the Blue Sky, where she outright tells Shizuku that because she doesn't have the same physical appeal she has to fight harder and use different strategies to get any attention as an idol. And if Shizuku is the "perfect idol", and Airi will never be able to achieve that, can she even call herself an idol?

If she can't call herself an idol, does she even deserve to call herself a girl? Or are the harsh words of her grade school classmates right about whether she should be wearing the cutesy clothes?

A large part of Airi's struggle with this, why it's even a spiral in the first place, ties into her nature as a Solid Heart student as well as why I see so much of myself and my transfemme journey in Airi's story. It doesn't matter how many people tell you that you're enough and that you've done what you set out to do, not if every thought in your head is telling you they're wrong. According to everyone I know, I pass really well as a girl. My voice is naturally feminine, even without masking it very hard, I've basically never been misgendered since growing my hair out by strangers looking at me, I've even been told by close friends that they'll forget I'm trans because I'm just "one of the girls" to so many of them. And I appreciate all of it, so much; I'm very lucky to have had such a smooth social transition. But none of that changes who I see in the mirror, who I hear when I talk, what I feel when I wake up in the morning forced to acknowledge my body. I'll never be a "real girl", not until I fix these things, and it's entirely possible that it's impossible to truly get rid of this feeling.

That's what Airi feels regarding her identity as an idol. Everyone in the world could tell her how good an idol she is, how much hope she spread as Happy Everyday, how beautiful and bright her smile is. But that will never replace or fully mask the doubt in the back of her head about whether she's really an idol, because nothing that she used to do aligns with what she's always seen idols to be, so much of what she does today is so different from the reality of her dreams. She's not that idol, so is she even an idol at all? I'm not that girl, so am I even a girl at all? Obviously I am, and obviously she is, but it's a feeling of doubt that never goes away.

Airi needs to constantly be an idol, or she's not an idol at all. And, at least to me, this has come to mean to Airi that if she's not an idol, she's not a girl. Because all of the work she put into being cute and girly was to be an idol. If she can't accomplish that, does she even deserve to be a girl at all? Or is she just a fraud wearing a mask trying to make people laugh on TV?

#pjsk #project sekai #airi momoi #character analysis #transgender #i have so much more to say #but it's getting late and this feels like a good stopping point #i'll probably add more when she invades my brain again #momoi airi......

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lilasamaaa · 3 days

Text

In the crowd | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genres | Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

Word count | 3.6K.

Warnings | Alcohol consumption, drugs, mentions of violence.

Summary | Reader's an engineer at Scuderia Ferrari in Maranello. While attending the season's launch party, her drink gets spiked.

Author's Note | Hi all! After the longest time, I've felt the need to come back here for some silly writing. New blog because the last one got cringe. Let me know what you think!

One might think that after two years within the scuderia, the season’s launch parties would make her less uneasy. That after two years of being apart of the engineering team, she would finally be used to attending public gatherings. That after two years, she’d be a natural at walking in the open, feeling the glances slide over her figure. She is stunningly beautiful. Perhaps that's her burden. She doesn't realize it.

When she walks across the paddock or the stands, she knows people are staring at her. She avoids meeting their gazes, feeling embarrassed. She thinks there must be something wrong with her outfit, with her gait. Why else would they stare for so long?

In Maranello, there’s a bakery at the corner of the HQ building where she stops every morning. The cashier always offers her something extra. A coffee. An additional pastry. She finds him polite, very customer-oriented. One morning, as she was freeing her croissant from the paper napkin it was wrapped in, she’d discovered a phone number scrawled in pen ink, with a hastily drawn smiley face. She’d stared at the napkin, perplexed, seated at her desk. He must have made a mistake, she thinks. It must have been meant for the customer before her. The one with the beautiful blonde curls and the Chanel perfume. She didn't call, didn't send a message. She continued to visit the bakery. The cashier never mentioned the number, proving her theory.

Someone brushing past her brings her back to earth. The party is in full swing, and she’s just not. She spots her colleagues bustling around the buffet and the bar, engrossed in lively conversations. While some don't even notice her, others wave their hands, encouraging her to join them. She forces a smiles, returns the wave. Then she tightens her grip around her clutch. Anything to make her feel like she’s in control. To make her forget that the music’s too loud, the lights too vibrant, the air too hot.

She doesn't remember ever feeling comfortable in her body. Years of growing up in an unstable family where love was doled out sparingly do that to a person.

"Hey," comes a familiar voice. She turns her head, her big eyes catching sight of Livio’s, one of her colleagues. "Are you not dancing?" he continues, a drink in hand. His whiskey breath hits her straight on. She discreetly glances at her watch, noting that it's barely nine.

"I haven't had enough to drink for that," she replies, trying to dodge the invitation.

"Let's go get you something then," Livio responds, grabbing her arm and heading towards the bar.

She's noticed that men always do that with her. Not just her colleagues, but people she doesn't know either. She's too kind, too gentle; she never raises her voice. So they grab her by the hips, the arms, the wrists. Anything is an excuse to touch her. She hates it.

"What do you want?" Livio asks.

Nothing, really, but she can't say that.

"Something sweet, please. I don't like strong alcohol," she replies. Livio seems to ponder her question for a second, his mouth pursed.

"I have something for you to try, wait," he continues, signaling to the bartender. "You're going to like it, don't worry."

A few seconds later, a glass of Plymouth is placed in front of her, and she looks up at Livio. Does he think I've never tasted gin in my life? she wonders, puzzled. She would like to refuse the drink, ask for the cherry liqueur she discovered last time indeed. But already, Livio has grabbed her glass and hands it to her with a big smile. "Salute," he exclaims, downing his own glass in one gulp.

Cries and applause suddenly echo in the large reception hall, causing her to turn her head. It takes her a few minutes to understand the reason for this sudden commotion. Until she sees them, a few meters away.

Charles and Carlos.

Her eyes can't seem to tear away from the two pilots making their way through the crowd to a small stage where a microphone is set up. It's tradition : to kick off the season in style, the entire team eagerly awaits the drivers' speeches. Everyone wants to hear their words, their encouragements, their hopes and goals for the season.

A friend once asked her if she knew Charles and Carlos personally. She can't really say yes. That would be a lie. She's exchanged words with each of the athletes before, giving them information about the race, their car, and the expected weather. These exchanges have always been brief and cordial. Professional. Nothing more.

Even though... No, she thinks, lightly shaking her head. That was nothing. But still...

It had happened just before the race in Singapore, last year.

A friend from engineering school had moved there at the beginning of the year, and they had agreed to meet for dinner at a fancy restaurant in the city. It was an opportunity to reminisce about the years spent at Polytechnique, studying (a bit), suffering (a lot), and getting drunk (a whole lot).

She had chosen a long emerald green silk dress, slit up to mid-thigh. The perfect balance between classy and sexy. She had no intention of charming her companion - notoriously attracted to men, anyway - but this meal was the perfect excuse to leave her eternal Ferrari jumpsuits for something more feminine.

In the long corridor leading to the elevator, she'd suddenly felt on a catwalk, letting herself get caught up in the moment and rolling her hips perhaps a tad too exaggeratedly. The person emerging from the corner at the far end of the corridor surprised her, but not enough to disrupt her stride, her heels clicking against the floor.

She had recognized him immediately, of course.

Dressed in a simple fitted black polo and a pair of dark jeans, his eyes had not left hers throughout their crossing. When the two had finally reached the same level, she'd breathed out a small "Good evening, Carlos," suddenly insecure about everything. Her outfit. Her gait. The messy bun revealing her neck. The cleavage leaving no room for a bra and showing the beginning of her breasts.

He had passed her, nodding in acknowledgment, and each had continued on their way. She was certain... No, almost certain, that she had dreamt the words that had followed.

"That's one lucky guy."

Yes, she was almost certain she had dreamt it. Watching the Spaniard in the distance take hold of the microphone and tap it gently to check the connections, she became increasingly convinced. There was no chance that this man, chiseled from marble, could have noticed her. Desired her.

His accent echoes throughout the room, and she instinctively closes her eyes, as if bathed in the gentle sun of Madrid. She's not listening - not really - only catching words here and there. "Truly an honor," "Very impressed by your efforts," "Promising changes." But her mind is elsewhere, between Maranello and Singapore, tethered to the memory that makes her lower abdomen tingle in the sweetest of ways.

"And now, it's time to celebrate!" Carlos says as the room erupts with joy and anticipation.

"Earth to you?" comes a much less pleasant voice than the one that has just quieted down.

"I'm sorry, what?" she says, returning her attention to Livio.

"Oh, wow, you've got to be kidding me. Is it just me, or are you completely absorbed by this guy?" Livio replies, his mouth twisted in a grimace.

"Who?" she asks, genuinely confused.

"Sainz. You were hanging on his every word."

"I just think it's nice that they're giving an encouraging speech. Both of them," she explains, avoiding the Italian's gaze.

"Yeah, okay. Should we get another drink?" he asks, taking hold of her arm again.

She wants to protest. She can still taste the gin at the back of her mouth. It can't have been more than twenty minutes since her first drink. But Livio is already almost dragging her behind him, clearly determined not to let her escape tonight. And once again, that hand locks around her arm. Firm. Not open to discussion. She feels something almost territorial in the gesture, something that strongly displeases her, so she vows to mention it to Livio. Someday. Not tonight.

This time, he doesn't even pretend to care about what she wants to drink, ordering two whiskies straight away. She hates it. The taste, the look, what this alcohol does to her mind and body. But Livio has already slipped two bills to the bartender, and a moment later, the amber liqueur lands in her right hand.

While her drinking companion is already tilting his head back, clearly unaware that this type of alcohol is to be savored and not downed in one go, she observes the glass, intrigued by the few bubbles that are forming on the surface. I had no idea whiskey could do that, she thinks before bringing the liquid to her lips.

A few minutes later, she's managed to shake off Livio by claiming she needed to use the restroom. She crosses paths with Carlos walking in the other direction, maybe three people ahead of her, but he doesn't notice her.

In front of the restroom mirror, touching up her lipstick, her focus changes as she sees a drop of sweat trickle down her temple and slide slowly onto her cheek. I'm rather cold, though, she thinks, almost suppressing a shiver. Her head suddenly feels very light. She blames the alcohol. Putting her lipstick back in her clutch and tucking a strand of hair that threatened to escape from her bun, she pushes the restroom door open again, bracing herself to face the social world once more.

Passing by the buffet, a wave of nausea washes over her, forcing her to stop for a few seconds, leaning against the table and closing her eyes.

"I thought it was you," echoes the sunny accent in her ears. With her eyes still closed, she wishes their new encounter, one that she'd admit she's dreamed about, had happened differently. At a better time. A time when she wasn't battling a fierce urge to throw up.

"Are you okay?" Carlos inquires, raising his hand as if to support her but stopping halfway.

She takes a few seconds to push the unpleasant sensations from her body as far away as possible before lifting her head, opening her eyes, and being rewarded with the exquisite sight of his luscious hair and amber eyes.

"Hi," she manages to utter in a faint voice. "Great speech," she continues, still leaning against the table.

"You look pale," the driver responds, looking concerned.

The words escape her lips before they even reach her brain. She regrets them instantly. Something inside her just give way, like a dam.

"Sorry. I must have looked better in Singapore," she says.

Carlos widens his eyes, surprised, before letting out an awkward laugh.

"Sorry for staring at you like that, that night. You were... Well, you are...," he continues, seeming to search for his words.

She would so love to hear the rest, to know what he was going to say. But dizziness seizes her, and she feels herself tipping against the table. Well, almost, because suddenly, an arm wraps around her waist, pressing her against a chest that, yes, she's also dreamed about several times. But not like this. Not in this state.

"Hey," Carlos says, his voice tinged with worry.

"I'm so sorry, this never happens to me. I must have had one drink too many, I—"

"I saw you at the bar not even ten minutes ago," the Spaniard continues. "No alcohol hits you that fast. Not even shots."

"I'm fine," she says, and the pilot understands that she's saying it not only to reassure him but herself as well. And, as if the words had commanded it, the fog in her mind dissipates a bit. Enough for her to gently detach herself from the pilot, finding her balance on her own two feet again. She'd like to take advantage of this newfound clarity to keep the Spaniard close to her. Him, that she never crosses paths with, whom she never speaks to, and yet who appeals to her so much.

But Charles arrives. He smiles at her, asks if she's okay, if she's enjoying the evening, and oh, "I'll borrow him for a moment, I'm so sorry, sponsors, you know," and oh, once again, she finds herself alone at the buffet, watching the two men walk away, Carlos still watching her as he reluctantly retreats.

"I was beginning to think he'd never leave," Livio says, leaning against the buffet, his hip brushing against hers.

She wants to scream. Oh, how badly she wants to.

Sensing that she's not going to respond, the Italian tries his luck again.

"Should we dance? You seem intoxicated enough, now."

She doesn't even have time to respond before her colleagues guides her onto the dance floor, eagerly pressing his body against hers. His breath, previously tinged with whiskey, now betrays hints of tequila. The guy never has enough, she thinks, twirling reluctantly.

And there it goes again. The nausea, the queasiness. Spinning her around like a puppet doesn't help, she tells herself. She comes to a halt, cutting off Livio's momentum, causing some dancing couples to narrowly avoid colliding with them. Feeling vulnerable, she tries to get away, to seek refuge elsewhere. But her wrist is once again trapped.

"You don't look well. Come on, let's get you some fresh air," Livio says, heading towards one of the large glass doors.

She's often been described as naive by her loved ones. She believes that the whole world means well towards her, never suspects anyone of ill intentions. She would even say about herself that she has no instincts, let alone survival instincts. No sense of danger. Yet, perhaps for the first time in her life, something deep inside her is screaming not to follow the man. Her signals are on alert. Everything is flashing red in her mind. For her, it's a first. So, without thinking, without worrying about offending her colleague, she acts.

"I don't need to go outside," she says, trying to free herself from his grasp. She's sweating. She feels the unpleasant sensation of a thin layer of dampness creeping over her neck, her back, her hands.

Her feeble resistance is no match for Livio's strength, as he pulls her outside despite her protests. The music is too loud for anyone to hear their altercation. Divided between the buffet, the bar, and the dance floor, no one pays attention to this mismatched couple, to the determined man dragging a struggling woman behind him.

The door closes heavily behind them, stifling the sounds of the party, captured on the other side. It's cold outside, she feels it because her whole body shivers. But she, who was cold just a short while ago, feels like she's boiling. She raises her hand to her forehead, wiping away another bead of sweat that's formed between her eyebrows. What's happening to me? she thinks internally, troubled. Alcohol has never put her in such a state before.

"I'm so glad I ran into you tonight," Livio begins, either oblivious or indifferent to the young woman's condition.

She doesn't respond, feeling her head spinning, leaning against the wall behind her, gasping to try to catch her breath. Trying to control the burning heat that's engulfing her body.

"You look really beautiful tonight. Quite a change from the work overalls, huh!" the man continues.

She's not exactly sure at what moment he slipped between her legs, facing her, just a few centimeters from her face. But he's there, too close, forcing her to turn her head to the side to avoid his gaze - and his alcohol-laden breath.

"I said, you look really beautiful tonight," Livio says. "Are you not going to say anything?"

"What do you expect me to say to that?" she says, jaw clenched.

"Do you find me attractive?" the man asks, meeting her gaze.

The warning signals reappear along with the nausea. She barely has time to push the man away and lean to the side before emptying her stomach inches away from his feet. The naivety stops there. The pieces of the puzzle fall into place, realization hitting her painfully.

"What did you do to me?" she asks, her knees giving way under her weight, sending her crashing to the ground. He sneers, rolling his eyes, as she crawls a few meters, trying to put some distance between them. She's now sitting on the ground, her back to the wall.

"What? What are you talking about?" the Italian replies, offended.

"Did you put something in my drink?" she asks again.

"Come on, now. I've been helping you ever since you said you weren't feeling well. What kind of monster do you think I am?"

For a moment, her colleague's wounded look makes her seriously doubt herself. Maybe it really is just the alcohol, she thinks, trying to calm her racing mind. After all, why would someone deliberately choose to harm her? Why jump to that conclusion? Livio has always been charming. A bit clingy, but charming.

"I'm sorry for implying that. I'm gonna head back inside," she says, trying to stand up.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Livio answers, pushing her back down.

"What? why?" she asks, surprised.

"It wouldn't be very wise to parade in front of your colleagues and superiors in such a poor state," the Italian begins, his tone almost mocking. "It really doesn't give a good impression of you. It's not very professional."

"I haven't done anything, just had a few drinks," she responds, annoyed. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"You're so wasted you can't even stand. At a work event. Do you want to get fired or something?"

She opens her mouth to speak, to defend herself, but no words come out. She can't seem to figure out if Livio is with her or against her anymore. His words are harsh, aggressive, but deep down, the engineer probably isn't wrong. She struggled to secure a position here, at Ferrari. Even though she believes herself to be fairly skilled at her job and puts in long hours, there are hundreds of others doing the same work as her every day. And hundreds more who could replace her if the need arose.

She's not indispensable. She's not even that good at speaking Italian, having always had more ease in English or in French, even though she spends the majority of her evenings reading books in the language. She's just a tiny cog in the machine. She thinks about Carlos, too. What would he think, seeing me stumbling in the middle of the dance floor like a mad woman?

"Let me drive you home," Livio says, extending his hand. "Spare you the embarrassment."

She hadn't realized how tired she was. The offer is rather tempting. Getting back to her apartment, her cat, her bed. Above all, escaping the crowd. Forgetting this evening. Forgetting whatever she thought there was with Carlos, too, while she's at it. As a stronger wave of sleep washes over her, she temporarily closes her eyes.

"Come on," he says. "Let's get you in the car."

After her brain, her legs refuse to cooperate too. Her body barricades itself, trying to keep her firmly sheltered. Losing patience, Livio hoists her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She wants to protest against the position she finds herself in. That's so unladylike. Her last few connected neurons grapple over strange thoughts. I hope nobody sees my underwear, she thinks before her brain disconnects once again.

She's so far gone, yet the next words sound crystal-clear in her ears.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

Sounds like Carlos, she thinks, delirious.

"What does it look like to you? I'm bringing her home. She's wasted," she hears, and she thinks it might be Livio, because she feels his body shaking with each words.

"There's no way I'm letting you leave with her. Put her down."

"Yeah? So you can have your way with her?"

"No, so I can punch you in the fucking face," the accent-thick voice shouts.

She must have passed out for good because she doesn't remember anything else. When she wakes up next, which feels like an eternity later, she's sitting against a wall, this time indoors, wrapped in a golden emergency blanket. There's no more music. Opening one eye, then the next, she's met with Carlos' brown ones. She tries to speak but her mouth feels dry. The Spaniard hands her a glass of water, helping her bring it to her lips.

"I somehow managed to look even worse," she jokes, reminiscing their earlier encounter.

"The paramedics have just arrived. They're going to take you to the hospital for a check-up," he says and she nods.

"Thank you, Carlos," she replies.

"I haven't done the half of what I would have wanted," he says, regret filling his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"This has to be the worst timing ever, but I... I actually wanted to ask you out, before Charles interrupted us and before, well... this," he says, gesturing around them.

He doesn't see it, but hidden under the blanket, she pinches her arm. Hard. Just to make sure she won't wake up a second time. Seeing that nothing changes, she lets out a little laugh.

"If you wanted me to wear that silky green dress, I'm so sorry, but I ruined it in the washer."

"You can wear a garbage bag for all I care," Carlos replies, looking at her fondly. "You'll still stand out in the crowd."

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #formula1 #f1 2024 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you

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