#that's what you get when you live with strict parents

[luminiamore]

plug connie springer x black stripper reader

warnings: boy is down bad, a little bit of mikasa x reader??, mikasa is famous heree, connie is a tease, he’s also hispanic asf, ya’ll didn’t even make it to the club, hints of yandere, mirror action, he fucks u while he’s crossfaded, wall sex, he talks a lot, dude is rambling, good ole cream pie, gotta love breeding

a/n: i got carried away (⌒_⌒;)

can you guys tell i like my men desperate lol, this is so long i might make this a series (4.9k words)

one down, like five more to goooo

The lifestyle of stripping was something you truly couldn’t get enough of. The late nights. The smooth poles. Dancing on those smooth poles. And most importantly, the money. Oh fuck, how you loved the money. Living the fast life gave you such a rush that you adored it just as much as you hated it.

It’s not your first choice, not by a long shot. You were raised in Jamaica, New York. And your parents., you loved them. Honestly, you did, but you would probably be the most miserable person in the world if you kept heeding their strict Christian views.

You tried everything to reach up to their impossibly high standards. They wanted you to get an A in every assignment? Try A+. They wanted you to wear less revealing clothes because ‘No man will ever want you’? You’re showing up to your classes in turtlenecks just to keep their mouths shut.

You even made it a routine to clean the entire house top to bottom on Sundays since they started complaining that ‘You never do anything around this house.’ It was beyond annoying. You were fucking tired.

Growing up in Notre Dame School of Manhattan was nothing short of horrible. Proclaimed ‘good girls’ snorting more than half a line of coke in the school bathrooms. Drugs you aren’t even sure how they got access to, but then again, they are rich white kids. Teachers and hypocritical professors pretend to be oblivious to the bullshit drama their students are in. Your parents’ oblivion for keeping you here is even greater. Even after sharing stories with them, they would advise you to be more like the students at your school.

It was a miracle you didn’t turn out that far gone, despite what your profession is currently. You’ve smoked a little weed here and there. Experience some sort of awakening tripping off shrooms the weekend your parents took a trip to Barbados.

Without you, of course. Despite this, you were always taken care of. Your differences in opinion would never justify their abandonment of you. You knew they loved you when they got you a ticket to see The Weeknd live after you got a perfect score on your final, not after telling you their opinions on the matter, of course.

‘I don’t know why you listen to such devil music.’

‘I should’ve never gotten you this trash.’

The guilt you felt for wanting to have fun kept you from almost going. You went anyway, choosing to avoid allowing their misery to affect you.

Everything was fine; you played along with this draining game, and everything was fine. Until they decided to kick you out for finding a small baggie of blow (that wasn’t even yours) peeking out from the top of your purse. You don’t even know how it got there.

Honestly, you didn’t. You tried to communicate that while they were packing all the clothes they could find in your closet into two medium-sized luggage bags. But they wouldn’t listen, opting for screaming so loud you could see the neighbors peeking through the window. At the very least, they were kind enough not to throw them onto the concrete ground. Their stubbornness was unyielding. You just couldn’t get through to them.

You were able to rent an apartment you had put a deposit on a month before this happened because of the money in your savings account. Unfortunately, your funds were only sufficient for rent for two months due to groceries and other necessities.

When graduation came, your parents were nowhere to be found, so you realized that you had to find a means of earning money before you ended up sleeping on the streets.

You tried looking for a ’regular’ job -- a barista, a waitress, even applied to be a fucking bartender. It’s not as easy as it seems when those who already have one talk about finding a job. Why do they claim that they need to hire immediately and yet still reject you? Considering that your lack of work experience prevents you from being hired, you feign a little on your resume. Turns out, you’re not a very good liar.

Where was pretty privilege when you needed it?!

Despite applying to 500 companies, none could offer you a job within the next two weeks, which happened to be when your rent was due.

You really had no other option. You took your pretty ass and marched to the nearest club. Which happened to be the... Hustlers club? Why did that sound familiar? 

Upon entering, you outright demanded to speak with the person in charge, and when you saw him, he demanded that he offer you a job. Lucky for you, the owner happened to be there that day. He observed the little moment you had when you stormed in..well, he observed the way your tits bounced in your low-cut tee and immediately pulled you into his office.

He had the thought that you would make him a lot of money if you worked for him, and he’s sure his business partner would agree if she saw you. He just had to make sure.

A figure appeared in the corner, striking up from the edge of his desk and making a slight sniffling noise. A girl, a beautiful one with distinct Asian features. Her leather skirt was short, only barely covering past 2 inches of her thigh. Her tits were pushed up to a necklace in a black corset-like top. An ornamental gold necklace.. with the letter M.

Wait. Is that-

That’s where it dawned on you why the name of this club sounded so familiar. On a random Tuesday afternoon, you find yourself standing in front of a celebrity. You were standing in front of Mikasa Ackerman. The Mikasa Ackerman. As in, owner of Mirror Palais, the highest-paid model in Japan, co-owner of one of the best clubs in New York, Mikasa Ackerman. Oh shit.

You remember seeing her on an Instagram reel in front of this very club, along with the other owner. The other owner, his name was.. what was it again? He swivels you around to face him, almost as if he hears your thoughts,

“Eren Yeager, sweetheart.”

A soft handshake accompanied by a gentle tone. He was quick to introduce you to the beautiful eyes that stayed fixed on your face since you walked into the dimly lit room. Eren guides you towards the brown leather couch where his friend is sitting,

“And, this is the lovely Mikasa. I’m sure you sure you know who she is.”

Feeling intimidated by her intense gaze, you nodded quickly and stumbled a bit when introducing yourself. Her following words didn’t calm your nerves anyhow,

“A real pleasure meeting you, beautiful.”

Eren could tell that Mikasa already liked you; the girl was practically fucking you with her eyes. But he wasn’t here for that; he cleared his throat to draw attention to him in the room. He had a goal in mind: to get you signed up. Eren wanted you dancing in his club today.

He sits you down and swiftly gets into business mode.

‘What kind of position are you looking for?’

‘What’s the minimum salary you want to earn here?’

He tries to get a sense of what you’re looking for before proposing to work as a stripper. Although he wants you to, he can compromise. Server position and the minimum salary you asked for was $65,000.

“And I’m not leaving til I get that or something better.”

Well, you wanted better, right? Eren explains to you that his club didn’t have any more waitress positions and Mikasa...

Well, that day, you found out that she was really good with words. She did a great job at convincing you that you’d make double the amount you asked for moving your perfect body on the pole. I mean...

“Look at that body of yours. You’d be pretty famous here, sweetheart.”

And shit, she was right. You really couldn’t blame the girls who never wanted to leave, simply too addicted to the drugs, to the fast life, especially to the money. The amount of money you made every night was simply insurmountable. And you found it funny because it wasn’t just the money. Really, it wasn’t.

The sensation that occurs when your lower body rotates on the pole. The art of dancing like this ignited such a passion from you. The attention, from the men and the women. One of the most popular clubs in the city had you as a crowd favorite. You knew it shouldn’t be something you liked; you never wanted to get too wrapped up in a life like this. But shit, it was sensational.

You didn’t let it slip, even though you shined on the stage. There are people who would take advantage of you even more if they knew you actually enjoyed what you do; you know this. When it was time to go, you left with no hesitation. You had to remind yourself of what you were here for, to provide and care for yourself until you find a better job.

And you stuck to that goal for a solid five months; nothing deterred you. Of course, that’s what you’re thinking. In reality, from the very first moment Eren had you on that pole, you found yourself coming back for one reason. Even if you weren’t subconsciously aware of it, him.

Connie, you heard the owner greet one day. He was definitely attractive. There was something about him, something about how he threw money at you and only you. Your body shivered without fail due to the gray eyes that watched your every move. The way he man spreads and tilts his head back when taking a hit, revealing neck tattoos that you know cover his stomach under that black Nike Tech hoodie. He was so fucking fine.

Only a few men can pull off a buzz cut. How does he do it so effortlessly? Maybe it was the color? How would he change it like it was nothing every two weeks?

You noticed he had a thin mustache, and when you got closer to his face.. Fuck. Was that a diamond nose ring?

He was a drug dealer. You caught that three months ago. Around that point, he began asking for you to exclusively serve his section. Eren had no problem with that; after all, this was his friend. But Connie started getting.. greedy. He wanted more than that. He started getting bold. He wanted your body on that twirling solely for him.

“Hell no.”

Eren filled the quiet section. Your body was followed by both green and gray eyes as you moved on the stage, with Connie’s eyes being more intense and focused compared to the other. The thriving club was filled with both of them enjoying a glass of Richard Hennessy Cognac in the VIP area.

Connie never had a good relationship with mixing Henny and weed. He was aware of that. He has a tendency to indulge in sinful thoughts. He didn’t let that stop him from rolling the blunt anyway.

His mind would get drawn towards dangerous places, mainly when he saw you. The way your thong disappeared between your cheeks under your lacey two-piece made him ready to fuck you right there. To show those perverted and prickly eyes that stuck like glue onto you that they could never have you. That you were his. Or, you will be.

Connie hasn’t even fucked you yet. Hasn’t gone anywhere near the sticky wetness he knows you have in between your legs.

You two indulge in what you could only describe as subtle grinding in the back rooms. All the dancing that you’re supposed to be doing on the pole, you’re doing on his lap instead. It was against the rules; you especially knew this. That didn’t stop either of you. Well, more so Connie than you.

At first, his best friend was against it. The customers you brought in were earning him at least $100k a night. While his other show girls were beautiful, you radiated a different type of aura onto the stage. You were something different. It was genuinely insane how you could move, you didn’t even have prior training. You found that every night, you got better than the previous; it was a natural talent.

Connie, being Connie, offered Eren twice that amount for every night he gets to spend with you alone. That was every night you were on the clock, besides, he had no problem making that back by the next day. When it came to his girl, there was never a problem for him.

And Connie never regretted the amount he spent on you. Being alone with you was something he had grown to crave incessantly. To him? It was worth it. He’d get so excited to just walk into the back room and find you waiting for him. All pretty, just tempting him to ruin you. Then, when you start performing in front of him, your body moves in a way that would hypnotize the stoic man.

And it wasn’t just your body to Connie. There was a certain allure to you. He was observant of the way you moved, spoke, and behaved. He understood that someone like you doesn’t come by every day. He just had to have you, own you. Your body, your fucking soul, everything you possessed, he wanted it for himself. He didn’t care if it sounded selfish; he’s okay with being that when it comes to you.

It’s reasonable to assume that he would have the final say on what you wear for him since he was the only person you would dance for, right? That was the route he took to get your number. That’s the reason you got a text from him while you were getting ready to shower for your night shift.

One of his friends- Was he talking about Mikasa?

You could have given it more thought, but your shift was only an hour away, and Connie was on his way. Using a small gray towel, you drape it onto the fat of your wet boobs. Your hands lather your Shea Butter oil on the top of your left thigh quickly, but you stop when your doorbell rings.

“Coming!”

You yelp, quickly slip on your slippers, and move toward the door. The man had always taken you home, and on the other side of the coin, he always took you to work. You didn’t bother asking how he knew your address the first time, afraid that it would spark an answer you’re not ready to hear. Occasionally, if you were too intoxicated to carry yourself to your apartment, he would act as your knight in shining armor and hold you in bridal fashion to your door without saying a word.

It should have been simple enough: he goes in and gets out. And it would have been that simple if he hadn’t seen your pink lacy thong loosely hanging off your door knob. He was simply a man, one who desired to feel every part of you. The tip of that thong was hanging out of his pockets when Connie left your apartment that night.

Swinging your door open makes you almost breathless. Connie was a tall person. Everything about him just screamed: big. He was easily over 6 feet 2 inches tall, and he came to your door carrying a medium-sized shopping bag. You step back, observing as he comes in right after taking his slides off by your door.

“You’re here early, Con. I’m not ready yet.” You whisper, still a little perplexed he’s already here. Despite the amount of money you know he has, you rarely ever see him in anything other than a white tee and black sweats. Today was no different. Minor differences in each pair made it clear that they were different every time. You suppose it had something to do with his dangerous line of work.

He hands you the cream-colored bag, and his eyes never leave your lips all the while. You suddenly became very conscious that you were breathing the same air as Connie, who appeared right in front of you. He leans in, the ghost of his lips felt against your collarbone,

“You smell good,” His tatted hands sneakily climbed their way onto your wide hips. Before muttering a curse under his breath, he squeezes once. For the first time since meeting you, Connie isn’t being truthful. He didn’t come to your apartment to take you to your job. Tonight, he had different intentions.

He came tonight to put a full stop to the cat-and-mouse game that you guys have been playing for the past five months. Two fully packed blunts and three shots of Don Julio convinced him that his attraction towards you was not going away.

He should’ve realized it when he started making a habit of watching over you outside of the strip club. She needs someone to protect her, he thinks. You don’t pay attention to your surroundings. You have no idea, don’t you? Your beauty could easily lead to someone from the club becoming obsessed and following you. Anyone who wasn’t him.

He also should’ve realized it when he started beating his dick into overstimulation to your pictures on Instagram. And after your shift. Of course, before your shift. Eren witnessed him having to excuse himself during your shift because his dick was painfully throbbing against his boxers.

Connie really liked you. And somewhere in that twisted mind of his, he believed that you two were truly meant for each other. He should’ve never waited this long, “Put this on, ma.”

He pushes the bag towards your chest and moves your hips in the direction of your room. Your thighs twitch as you hum and make a little run to the end of your hall. He follows after you slowly, eyes shifting to the way your ass peaks out from under the towel.

This scene feels oddly familiar. A predator stalking its prey, just waiting for the right moment to pounce. You didn’t know what Connie came here to do; in your mind, you were just getting ready for work. He almost felt sorry for you, almost felt sorry for how he was going to ruin you, almost.

He made sure to take his time approaching your door so that you could be ready and prepared for him when he arrived. And you didn’t disappoint. In front of your vanity makeup mirror, you were sat on the cushion chair. Applying what looked like oil from a flower bottle onto your neck.

You look better in the dress than he expected. Your fat tits sitting so perfectly, and the lace meshing with your skin. You pretended to ignore him behind your seat, starting to feel the weight of his presence around you. This was probably the thinnest item you had ever owned, yet his hands pressing on your shoulders made your skin feel like it was on hot volcanic soil.

You catch his eye in the mirror, and despite your flustered state, he doesn’t grant you the satisfaction of looking away. Not even while his hands lower down to your rib cage, right under your plush boobs. Especially not even while his giant palms wrap around the fabric covering your nipple in a tight grip.

You gasp, a moan bottling in your throat, “C-Con!”

It could have been the way you uttered his name or the way your head pressed against his chest. Regardless, Connie lost control and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, beginning to sprinkle small, wet kisses. He grips harder, and you... you get louder.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Your flesh is now exposed to his hands as they slip into the dress. “Skin so soft,” He kneads his hands into your chest, squeezing as if he’s hoping milk will pour out of them. He groans, “God, you’re so perfect mama.” The thought of that makes a shiver run down his body.

Poor Mikasa, she spent all night working on that dress once she heard it was for you. Connie didn’t even let it last for a good ten minutes before you heard a faint rip sound in the midst of your whimpers.

Your brain is struggling to keep up with the speed of everything happening. You attempt to tilt your head back, but he shuts it down right away. “Eyes on the mirror.” He moves one hand to your throat, keeping you still. You feel your body shake under his hold, twitching slightly from his small attack. You didn’t have the courage to look away, not even as far as you could.

“I’ve been so patient.” Squeezing your left nipple, he drops his fingers down the ripped material until they reach the top of your pussy lips. “Cumming to the thought of your pretty face like a fucking teenager,” His words bring a mewl to your lips. Your body starts sweating, nervous at the way his fingers are just rubbing circles around your skin.

Would he pull away if your hips jerked against his hand? You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t. You’ve never allowed yourself to feel this desperate for anyone, but being around Connie left you like this. You were at a loss for what to do. Your thoughts were racing to find something, anything, that would bring him closer to you.

It’s unclear what motivated him to answer your prayers. But in the next moment, he pushed his middle finger into the center of where your slick was overflowing onto the cushion. He creates slight tap sounds with the puddle between your fat lips, playing with you.

Your eyes close for just a second and burst wide open when you feel a sudden intrusion in your sticky hole. “A-Ah!” A sob leaves your lips, your eyes falling back to your face in the mirror when you register his next words,

“Eyes on the mirror, mama. I haven’t done anything to you yet,” As Connie slowly moves his fingers into and out of your dripping core, his eyes struggle to keep track of your face in the mirror or the stain you’re beginning to make on his digits.

He settles with the stain you’re creating. He’s massaging your walls in a way that you can’t help but cover them in a creamy white. It’s impossible not to moan with shaky breaths, whispering his name. He figures the wait was worth it. His dreams couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing. It was more noisy, was more sticky, and it was.. real.

What do you taste like?

Your hips shake as he suddenly removes his fingers from you. You whimper, annoyed by the absence of the touch of fingers on your wet walls, but you stop yourself when you see his movements in the mirror. His mouth wraps around his middle and ring finger, sucking your juices to the fullest. Your breathing stops when he moans, “You taste so fucking good.”

Connie silently pulls you up from your seat and presses you against the nearest wall, causing the ripped dress to fall to the floor. Instantly, your back arched into the prominent bulge that was pressing on your bare ass. Your thoughts wander back to your last session with Connie in the backroom. All that desperate grinding.

“You were squeezing so tight around my fingers,” He pushes his sweat down to remove his throbbing hard dick with a little effort. “Y’gonna squeeze my dick like that next?”

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

You jump every time the base of his cock slaps down on your ass. Both of his hands grip your sides, his eyes rolling back as he slides his dick back and forth in between your leaking pussy lips.

“Oh f-fuck! Connie,”

Your voice cracks when you call out for him, and he smiles. He cannot deny that this is the perfect thing; it was always meant to be like this. He spreads your cheeks as wide as he can, lining his tip up to your hole that’s clenching around nothing.

“Yeah, b-baby?” Fuck, you were so wet. “Want me to fuck you? Want- Oh fuck. Want Connie to make you scream?”

Your lips tremble, and you try to slide his dick inside you by pushing your hips back. He lets you, too weak himself, to stop you from taking what you wanted. All you can think right now is Connie, Connie, fucking Connie.

“Shittt. Want y-y’to to make me cum! P-please!”

Pushing him even further inside without his help proves to him that you truly want him to make you scream. You’re barely making it halfway with his thick and long build. Connie is incredibly proud of you right now, taking his dick like a desperate bitch and moaning to fuck the rest of his inches in.

He pulls a little of himself out of you, only to flush his hips abruptly against yours with one single push. Groaning at the same time you gasp out, he whispers in your ear, “Scream for daddy, mama.”

You were so full. His cock tip was touching places that you’ve never been to on your own before, causing your mind to go haywire. His pressure against your cervix was so intense it would have been painful if you weren’t so wet. You oblige almost embarrassingly quickly the moment you feel his dick drag at a steady pace inside of you.

Connie regrets not having done this sooner, as the drugs he took earlier are still mixing in his system, alternating and speeding up his thoughts. His body was ablaze. You’re covering the entire length of his dick with your juices, causing him to become frantic and desperate to get more out of you. His thrusts match his crave. You were warm, and your cries were heaven to his ears, “Big! Y’re so b-big, daddy!”

You’re not complaining, far from it, as he tears your pussy to shreds. In fact, you’re taking him so well, and he praises you for it. Like he said, you were made for this moment, for him. You’re such a,

“Good girl. Fuck! My g-good girl takes me so well,”

He can hear your slick drip on the floor below you despite the smacking sound in your room. You’re so needy for him, as he is for you. The walls echoed with your wailing sounds as you fucked him back, making Connie shudder.

He’s gonna cum. He can feel his balls churning as they slap repeatedly against your twitching clit. Fuck. He’s gonna cum so deep inside you he prays it reaches your womb. Although it’s his first time exploring the depths of your perfect cunt, he recognizes that you’re also going to cum.

He can tell by the way your legs are shaking rapidly, by the way, your moans get higher in pitch, by the way, you’re whispering his name out like a prayer. And he’s determined to make you cum before him. Do you squirt? Do you cream? He thinks he’ll die and go to heaven if it’s both. Your next plea erupts another groan to tumble out his mouth,

“M’gonna- M’gonna cum! O-oh fuck- M’gonna cum so h-hard.”

Holding your arms behind your back with his tatted hand, he moves his hips inside you at a faster pace than ever before. “Shit. Me t-too, mama.” He angles his waist to keep pressing into that spongy spot that makes you tremble. “Just like that. Cum, baby. C-cum all over this fat dick.”

Small tears start to fall down your brown cheeks, and your back arches sharply on Connie, causing your stomach to clench at once. The man above you receives both your cream and squirt splashing from your sweet core, and you weep. Your muffled moans fill the air as he cranes your neck towards him for a nasty, drooling kiss.

As he gets closer to his orgasm, his rapid thrusts become sloppy and crazed, and his heart beats twice as fast as he sees the beauty fucked out underneath him. The more Connie moved inside of you, the more he swayed. Your essence was covering his lower half so much that he couldn’t wait another minute before dumping his kids against your cervix, a shaky moan accompanying his release.

His thrusts slow down, causing tiny drops to spill onto the floor, but his lips never leave yours, and he has to remind himself to let you breathe when you start to whine against his mouth. He lets you go and instead presses tiny kisses against your panting mouth.

Both of you, Connie in particular, were on cloud nine. Your clenching onto him brings Connie’s mind back to Earth, but he is not satisfied. He wanted to go again. He needed it, so it was only natural he started moving at a steadfast pace inside you again.

“Again. Let’s go a-again, mama. Shitt. Your pussy is so-”

Before that night, you’ve never experienced pleasure on this level. Connie took you, on every corner of the house. Both of you left unaware of Eren’s multiple missed calls as he fucked his cum into you like a dog in heat. It’s safe to say that you didn’t show up for work that night or the night after. Connie made sure you never danced at a strip club again.

@hatake05 @thickbihhwitdagapp 🫶🏾

#lumiwrites #plug connie #connie springer x black reader smut #18+ content #aot smau #aot smut #aot x black reader #aot x reader #aot x black y/n #connie springer #connie x black reader #connie x black y/n #connie x you #mikasa ackerman #mikasa aot #connie aot #connie attack on titan #eren yeager x black reader #eren yeager #mikasa x reader #mikasa x black reader #aot fanfiction #x black reader smut

[fauvester]

how do garak and bashir feel about being grandparents?, also since theres a third elim (3lim) ((if i read tht right,,,,)

garak and bashirs parenting styles are reversed for grandparenting. julian's a total sap for his grandkids, taking them on trips and buying them elaborate educational toys. garak is the reserved victorian grandfather smoking a pipe in the study talking about The Old Days and ordering them around (especially in the garden, his knees aren't what they used to be.)

Bashir is still annoyed at the passage of time seeing fit to give his children (who, in his mind, are still kids) children of their own. Rude!

#dee s 9 #garashir adoption au #julian w baby one like Oh what a dear! 1 yr later with baby 2 We call these Irish Twins on Earth! #a year after that with baby 3 like Lim don't you think this is getting a little excessive. You havent got any record to beat #a year after THAT with baby 4 like WAS MY EDUCATION ON CONTRACEPTION DEFICIENT? I THOUGHT I EXPLAINED EVERYTHING QUITE CLEARLY. #lim and his wife live just a mile or so away.. they can hang out with their grandparents in the countryside around lakat #julian is the Strict Dad and the fun grandparent. garak is the 'mischief if you can get away with it' dad and the stern old grandfather #HOOGH.. thinkin bout julian and miles bonding over their kids having kids... going on grandpa adventures #lim and molly swapping parenting tips.. #molly drops her own kids off on prime when she's doing research in the quadrant n they rough it with their lizard cousins for a few weeks #3LIM!!! #u know garak uglycried in private when lim named his baby elim (III). he didnt specify which elim garak hes named after. dealers choice #thank YOUUUUU for always asking fun QUESTIONSSSSSSS!!! LOVA YOUUUU

[asexual-juliet]

it fics where maggie & wentworth are abusive to richie just know that you’re causing me both emotional and psychic damage what the fuck are you doing!!!

#bill denbrough did not say ‘we can’t go to our parents either. unless—what about your mom and dad four-eyes? they seem pretty regular’ #for you guys to pull this kind of bullshit #wentworth tozier did not lovingly call richie ‘o idiot child of my loins’ for this kind of treatment #wentworth tozier is just. a goofy dude! a sarcastic guy! you can literally see where richie gets it from! #and maggie… i love you maggie… she’s trying so hard someone please tell her she’s doing a good job!! #idk just seems weird that in this story with so many abused and neglected kids you’re latching on to the one with a canonically #happy home life #like. eddie and bev are obviously two children of abuse #bill’s parents are definitely trying their best in the wake of georgie but he’s also definitely being a little neglected #stan’s parents aren’t really touched on in the book but his dad seems pretty strict in the movie #ben and mike are the only other ones with genuinely happy home lives it’s just so fucking weird to me that people will write about richie #being abused when they could pick literally anyone else #it #it chapter one #it chapter 1 #stephen king #stephen king’s it #richie tozier #wentworth tozier #maggie tozier

[llycaons]

I’m not going to give details but jc’s issues are so exaggerated that they allow me to easily identify similar problems in people I know in my real life

#my mom....yeah #I just don't know how to help her. she knows she's loved and capabale and we support her and we reassure her constantly #but she's been self-concious and needlessly cold/strict and defensive and judegemental literally my whole life #what are you supposed to do about that? nobody can get through to her #I worry I've gotten a lot of her bad habits #I don't believe peolpe when they praise me and I'm a pessimist and it took me years to realize life should be nice and enjoyable and #have good things in it #instead of something just to get through as practically and quickly s possible #I love her but I feel for her and I wish she was different #and...happier #being around my aunt is SO different #she's confident without being dominating she's polite she's warm she's easy to talk to #she doesn't take things personally #she sets her boundaries without being rude or hostile to her childre #I was so happy when i lived here last time since she was also very casually physically affectionate and I was kind of touch-starved #and I didn't like getting touched by my mom :/ #maybe being raised with someone with emotional intelligence would have helped. lmao #oh my god I'M the jin ling in this situation #aw bud. we can't fix our parents (uncles) #cor.txt

[homunculus-argument]

Character idea that I had at some point: A dance teacher who had to give up his own highly promising career as a performer after an injury, and now makes his living giving lessons to children. He comes off as stern, serious, and frighteningly strict, and even some of the parents have a hard time believing that the kids genuinely like him and enjoy the lessons. Which, to be fair, are frightening to watch with no context of what this is about.

The children go through their practices with downright eerie, automation-like, coordinated synchrony, with stern and focused looks on their faces, while the teacher circles them, observing and correcting, brandishing his cane like a weapon and every once in a while dramatically lamenting about how "you little vermin can't do anything right", and occasionally the music stops and the only sounds coming from the studio are of kids running and screaming while their teacher bellows about teaching them a lesson.

This, however, is all just method. He started the first lesson with the children by proposing a game: How about they play flea circus, where he is the cruel evil ringmaster and they are all his poor suffering little fleas. One of the girls starts crying, protesting that she doesn't want to be a flea. Well, how about mice? Mice are cute. The children accept these terms, and ever since they've spent dance lessons playing Evil Circus.

For reasons beyond adult comprehension, children of a certain age really love playing pretend in a setting where everything is Dark And Horrible And The Worst, and Evil Mouse Circus is exactly that. And whenever he picks up that the kids are starting to get too genuinely nervous or agitated, that's when he goes "that's it I'm going to beat all of you" which is their cue to take a break to run around screaming, while he chases them. He won't catch them and isn't even trying to, the kids just need to let the nervous energy out.

It looks horrible to an outside observer, but the kids are having an excellent time playing circus mice.

[pearlcigs]

⋆ make a woman out of me

christian!virgin!reader x ellie williams

summary ⋆ you swore to yourself you only longed for ellie in a platonic way, but as you get older you seem to realize just how pretty she really is.

warnings ⋆ 2.95k ⋆ smut, i might get cancelled 🤷‍♀️, reader (non penetrative) virginity loss, religious themes, ellie is 19, reader is 18, pastor's daughter!reader, mentions of homophobia, alludes to reader's parents being homophobic, ellie smokes weed, pet names (pretty girl, babe, honey, baby, good girl), cursing, first kiss, corruption, corruption kink, oral (r recieving)

time moved slowly within the parameters of jackson. the same familiar faces, day in and day out. though, it was comforting living in such a community. the horrors of the world beyond the walls that stood tall was something you rarely wanted to think about. it made you sick to your stomach to think of your friends, loved ones, even people you weren't particularly close with, outside of the safe walls, being face to face with whatever monsters marred the unhabitual world.

your parents were strict with religion, your father being the only self acclaimed paster that jackson has ever had to offer. there was never a time you could remember, even before finding refuge in the cozy town, where your parents weren't devout. vivid memories of your mother's fingers gliding over the cross necklace she wore around her neck when you would get in trouble. disappointed sighs and signs of the cross, begging the lord above for forgiveness, explaining to the sky you were too young to know what you've done was a sin.

the bible was followed closely in your home, and you obliged without caution. you prayed, attended your father's mass sessions in the tiny chapel just down the road where he preached the bible, wore the holy cross around your neck to show your devotion, you've read the old torn and withered bible you were so lucky to find front to back. religion was all you've ever known and you had found no reason to ever question the man who hung on your wooden walls, hanging from a cross with his hands and feed nailed to it like an animal. that was, until ellie.

"come on, don't you wanna jus' see what it feels like?" ellie teased, waving the joint in front of your face like a taunt. "no thank you." you replied, sitting at the foot of her bed, legs crossed, eyes wandering around her room. when ellie first came to jackson you were infatuated with her, dwindling it down to pure want but only of friendship. "good girl, that's what you say when someone offers you this shit." ellie moves the weed away from your face, inhaling it and then turning away to exhale the smoke away from you.

it started with just friendly smiles, offering to show her around and help her get to know everyone. she was wary of you. honestly, afraid of your friendly demeanor. people on the outside of the jackson walls were cruel and vicious, she thought, with no doubt in her mind, you were being friendly to lure her into some kind of trap. she danced around you with caution, keeping her distance but also decidingly giving you a chance. she quickly became fond of you, your personality, your looks. everything about you appealed to ellie and something about that made you proud, even more eager to befriend her.

the words 'good girl' ring from her mouth and you're not sure how to respond. was there even a proper response to your best friend calling you that? a simple nod was all you could come up with. watching her lips intently as she blew the smoke out of her lungs. your fingers came up to your neck, fiddling with the cross necklace around your neck, a habit passed down from your mother. ellie never paid much attention to your shy outlook on life. you were reserved and a part of her liked that she had so much of you to herself.

it wasn't until you were 17 that you finally came to terms with the fact that your infatuation was more than just a yearning to be her friend. tears of guilt streaming down your face in the confessional at the shoddy chapel, divider between you and the young volunteer who was ready to beg jesus to abolish your sins. "i'm a girl... and i like another girl." you sniffled, lowering the pitch of your voice instinctively so he wouldn't see past your anonymity. ache in your heart when silence was returned, until soft mutterings of a prayer, asking jesus to forgive your tainted heart.

ellie extended her arms behind her head, a small stretch that gave you big feelings. her shirt rode up, exposing the small of her stomach. you swallowed harshly, wondering why god would tempt you with something like this. a soft sigh emits from ellie's lips, flicking the almost finished joint into a nearby makeshift ashtray. another soft sigh falling from her perfect lips. intent eyes trying to be secretive of the no less then unholy thoughts that you were being tempted with.

ellie was put off at first by your fervent religion. her experiences were tainted, never having a good visual of what a healthy relationship with god looked like. she was unsure if you were going to try and convert her into some pious worshipper. you weren't secretive of your religion and that much was enough to make ellie suspicious. with time she realized you were different from the other religious people she's met. only bringing up your religion or anything to do with it when you were directly asked or if it was really important to speak about.

"whatchu lookin' at, pretty girl?" she chuckled as she noticed the way your eyes locked onto her, like if you looked away she'd be gone. it wasn't unusual for ellie to be flirty or to make casual remarks about how pretty you were. still, every time she did your cheeks were adorned in a rosy color. "just you, i guess. i dunno..." you answered back quickly, hoping that answer was enough to satisfy her eager curiosity. "yeah? just me? got something you wanna say to me?" she was just joking around, trying to get you riled up and flustered but you did have things you wanted to say to her.

"no." you answered, though you were sure she wasn't expecting an actual response. "no? yikes, babe, i'm hurt, thought we had somethin' real here." she smiled and you felt the butterflies in your stomach become tongue tied. one thing you loved about ellie above all things was her smile, how the skin around her eyes scrunched up just the tiniest bit, the apples of her cheeks becoming more prominent. everything about her smile made your head spin.

"els, i like you." the words slip out of your mouth before you could even process what was going on. her smile that coerced you to confess to her in the first place falters. "i'm sorry?" she questions, unsure if you meant what she thought you did. you had never said anything that led ellie to believe you were homophobic or that you thought all gay people were sinners like most of the older people who were religious in jackson did. but still she was careful to keep her sexuality from you, strongly assured you would take after your parents' stance on homosexuality.

"i... i don't know why i said that." you say, truthfully. mouth slightly agape and eyes widened with shock that you'd just outed yourself after years of trying to force down your feelings. there was a silence between the two of you. silence wasn't uncommon around each other, sometimes the both of you preferring to spend your time together quietly as a way to unwind after a treacherous day. but this silence was different than those times. ellies breath was caught in her throat, words jumbled on her tongue.

she only began reacting when she saw the panic on your face, followed by your eyes becoming glassy. "hey, hey. don't cry. it's okay." she comforted, sitting up and placing a hand on your knee. she wasn't good at comforting people, you were well aware of that. "i didn't mean to.." you admitted, voice timid and quiet, still uncertain to how she would react. "hey, it's okay, honey." the term of endearment sliding off her tongue like she was meant to call you that for the rest of your lives.

"i'm not mad." ellie affirms, her tone soft, knowing how afraid of other people's anger you are. another flash of silence emerges, just you and ellie staring at each other. neither of you knowing what to say. she pitied you, seeing how much you resented yourself. your bottom lip slotted between your teeth, biting hard enough to potentially draw blood. "don't do that..." she mutters, gently running her thumb over your partially chapped lips, pulling your bottom lip out of your teeth's grasp.

your breath hitches, a small shudder traveling up your spine. your eyes locked on hers, your heart beating loud enough for the whole world to hear. ellie's eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to your eyes. "i've liked you for a while." you admit, knowing there was no going back at this point. "oh, yeah?" her voice was low, some would even describe as seductive. her thumb still lingering on your bottom lip. "yeah." you whisper back, your eyes now flickering down to her lips.

ellie's hand moves to your jaw. her eyes flicking down to your lips one last time before she leans down and presses her lips against yours. her lips are soft, just like you had imagined. she seems skilled, like she knew what she was doing and what the end goal was. a small smile forming on her face as she realizes you have no idea what you're doing. “like this.” she mumbles against your lips acutely aware how clueless you were when it came to romance.

you follow her lead, doing your best to follow her lead. her free hand finding your waist, squeezing gently. you pull away, panting faintly. "i don't know.." you mumble, trailing off as ellie puts her lips back to yours. the hand that was on your jaw roaming to the back of your head, fingers getting tangled in your hair. "i know." ellie responds moments later, her lips brushing against your with each syllable. you couldn't comprehend what was happening, your mind going blank with ellie's lips on yours. she adored the way you looked at her. looking at her like you needed her.

she gently lays you back, grabbing the first pillow she could find and settling it under your head so you were comfortable. her thighs either side of your body, her body weight on top of you, giving you a cozy feeling you'd never experienced before. "you don't even know how long i've been wantin' to kiss your pretty lips..." she whispers, her bangs hanging in front of her face. you bring your hand up to her face, nervously tucking the hair behind her ear. "god, you're so fuckin'..." she stops, just taking a second to admire how alluring you looked under her.

her lips dip down to your neck, slowly biting and sucking on the skin. your breath hitches, a small whine pushing past your swollen lips. ellie groans against the skin of your neck. "make more of those pretty noises f'r me." she mumbles, hips rolling over yours, another whine spilling from you at the pleasurable feeling. ellie's kisses move away from your neck, down your body. trailing down your collarbone to your clothed chest to your stomach. her lips stop, hovering right above your pussy.

your heart was beating out of your chest, you back arching a little in anticipation. "how bad do you wan' it? tell me, baby. tell me how much you wan' me." she was totally and utterly obsessed with you, her mind becoming drunk by the thought of you— the mere sight of you. "p-please, els..." you mumbled, voice timid from embarrassment. it was partially expected though, you'd never done anything like this. "i want you..." it was simple but effective, making ellie go feral for you. "fuck—"

she lowers her lips to your pussy, kissing over the fabric of your shorts. watching her through hooded eyes, your pussy throbbing from her touch. "gonna eat this pussy s'good. show you what you've been missin' out on." she groans, the fabric of your shorts dampening as she trails her tongue over the sensitive area. ellie surprised herself, shocked that she was able to dirty talk to you so easily like this. your hips were writhing against the bed, more eager than you've ever been in your entire life. you felt dirty for wanting this, knowing that god was watching you become a total slut for ellie.

ellie's fingers hooked on your shorts, pulling them down slow as slow could be, chuckling as you whined. "ellie. ellie, please." you muttered, begging for her to hurry up. ellie's eyes rolled back, the sound of you begging getting her more aroused than she's ever been. no one's ever made her feel like this before. she was done with the teasing, if not for your sake but for hers. she pulled your shorts and underwear off swiftly, discarding them somewhere to find later.

her eyes locked on your bare pussy, fighting back a moan at the sight. "you've got me so fucked up, babe." she muttered, kissing around your thighs first. you were nervous, breath shallow and quick paced, hungry for ellie but embarrassed nevertheless. your voice was caught in your throat, blinking quickly as you watched ellie kiss all over your thighs. ellie looked up at you and you were able to see that she was just as nervous as you. "is this okay? you can tell me to stop." she sounded sincere, pushing aside her pure need to get your consent.

you nodded, not trusting your voice. "use your words like the good girl you are, yeah?" she's longing to just taste your glistening cunt. "yes— yes, els. 't's okay..." she doesn't waste another second after hearing your shaky voice, tongue urgently dipping between your wet folds. you moan at the contact, feeling like you were on cloud 9. ellie's tongue presses flat against your clit, your hand clamping over your mouth. moans being muffled as ellie savors the sweet noises your dripping cunt was making.

ellie wasn't fond of you muffling your perfect little sounds, wanting to hear just how good she could make you feel. "let me hear you. don't make me punish you.." you don't move your hand away from your sinful mouth. your free hand finds ellie's, interlocking your fingers which she gladly accepts. "c'mon, baby. let me hear you." she encourages once more, lips moving against you with ease, mixture of your wetness and her spit. but to her dismay, you still ignored her commands. her free hand sliding your shirt up your body to expose your breasts, you were never one to wear a bra. her hand kneading the supple flesh, thumb running over your nipple.

she licks a strip from your entrance to your clit, making your thighs shake with immense pleasure. "wanna be a brat?" she mumbles into your pussy, looking up at you through her eyelashes, staring you down as her tongue circles your clit. "what is it they make you do in confession? hail mary's? 5 of 'em, now. or i stop." she smirks, watching the look in your eye become more flustered by her request. you slowly move your hand away from your mouth, not wanting this pleasure to ever stop.

"h-hail mary, full of grace—" you cut yourself off with a moan, eyes squeezing shut as you lift your hips, pushing your cunt further into ellie's face. "get to ruin this pretty pussy." ellie groans. "keep goin'. don't stop." she aids you to continue, feeling your cunt flutter around her tongue. "the lord is with— is with thee..." you continue, stuttering through the words. "good girl, keep goin' f'r me. let me hear you." she continues to egg you on, talking into your pussy. her own moans mixing in with the sound of yours.

"blessed art thou— ellie, please..." you whine, squeezing her hand and throwing your head back into the pillow, back arching off the bed. "c'mon, pretty girl. blessed art thou..." you toes curl at her words and the feeling of her tongue teasing your entrance. "—amongst... amongst women..." you trail off, mind becoming to hazy to even remember the words to the prayer you've prayed everyday since you could talk. ellie smirked into your cunt, relishing in the feeling of being able to turn your mind into mush, being the only one able to turn your mind into mush.

your moans and whines became breathier and higher pitched with each flick of her tongue. your stomach twisting in an unfamiliar knot. "ah, ah, ellie—" your thighs trying to clench together and push her head away, the feeling becoming too much. "you're gonna cum, baby?" she spreads your legs wider, her only greedy want is to make pleasure wash over you. "ellie! ellie! ellie!" you chant her name, eyes rolling back as the pleasurable wave of your orgasm finally hits you, moans loud and unfiltered.

"there we go... yeah, nice an' easy. fuck." she mutters, tongue fucking you through your high until your writhing and pushing her off of you. her lips relocating to your thighs and slowly working their way up to your pelvic bone, soft kisses against your skin. "tasted so good, baby. best pussy i've ever had." she praises, eager to show you just how much you pleasured her even though you technically didn't make her cum. "els..." you whined, face flushed a rosy red. "yeah, baby. 'm right here." she leaves a trail of kisses up your body as she reaches your lips, leaving a soft peck to let you know she was here. "does this mean you like me too...?" you asked innocently. "are you serious?"

#🍄 ⋆ the last of us #🕰️ ⋆ birds and bees #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #tlou #tlou x reader #tlou smut #ellie wiliams #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie smut #ellie x reader smut

[six-of-ravens]

there's one guy at our office who won't speak in a group without raising his hand and being acknowledged (a habit we are trying to break him of) and today since I was on a video call for our meeting instead of in the office, I had the unique experience of seeing him raise his hand behind our boss's back and then start waving it around wildly when my boss (obviously) didn't see him.

sometimes work is 10x funnier than any comedy special

#i understand why this guy does that bc he was raised in a very strict way #but also.... people don't have eyes in the back of their heads lmao #and when everyone is talking freely except you then we're not looking for hands to acknowledge #he does this all the time when you can't see him and then gets more and more agitated like a little kid who has to pee.... #it drives everyone insane bc by the time someone finally notices him we're 2 conversation topics past whatever he wants to comment on #anyway. coworkers. i tell ya. #someday we will finally get through to him and he'll understand we're not going to lose it on him for talking #i have to wonder what his home life is like. he still lives with his parents and i think theyre probably....not great

[sparklovespink]

ENHA HYUNG LINE! --- gf w/ strict parents!

18+, blow job, fingering, slut shaming, risky + semi-public sex, lots of teasing,

⠀⠀ ⠀myslut masterlist

HEESEUNG was not liked by your parents when they met him. they like him a lot more now, at least. loves to help around the house when you have him over for family celebrations. still, when's he's over they never fail to remind you, "keep that door open." you do, because when have you ever known better? not until heeseung shows you. the placement of your room has your bed not in the view from the doorframe so he sits himself at the edge, you knelt in front of him while he lets you rest your head in his hand.

he hushes you, pulls out his cock and guides your mouth onto his tip. he's taking in all of your soft moans, throws his head back at the way your lips kiss along his length. "you just love my cock in this pretty mouth. can't get enough of it." he hisses through gritted teeth when you drag your tongue along the underside of his cock. the risk of getting caught has him so turned on, has him pushing his cock further till your really gagging on him, because you look so fucking pretty choking on his dick.

JAY'S the type of guy to get along with your family immediately. your parents love jay, your siblings think he's the best guy you could've possible brought home, and you know your family would trust him with anything. he comes over for family dinner parties and social events, and your father introduces him to everyone.

so of course no one thinks much when the two of you slip away, jay pulling you into the first empty room down the hall, pressing you against the door. keeps his fingers in your mouth as he fucks you, rolling his hips against your ass. "imagine if you're parents knew how much of a slut you were?" he coos, listening to you whine around his fingers, begging him not to tell. "don't want them to know how good your boyfriend fucks this cunt?" he pulls his fingers out of his mouth and brings them down to your clit, teasing you because he's such a meanie. "c'mon, try to stay quiet for me baby."

JAKE'S a sweet heart, one hundred percent. your parents think he's so sweet, ridiculously kind. sometimes they think he's questionable but they treat him like a son-in-law nonetheless. and he's managed to convince them to let you come over for the holidays. and they think you'll be skiing and going on coffee dates.

which you do, at least when jake doesn't have you bent over the expensive island table of his parents vacation home, splitting you open with his big cock. the house is empty, so he's not holding back, fucking into you at an ruthless pace. you don't know how long he's been at it, fucking you so hard you can barely think about the snow angels you had asked him to make with you just moments ago. "s'much better than being out in the snow, right baby?" he'll ask, balls deep inside your warm cunt, thumbs rubbing circles on your hips. "mmm, so much better."

SUNGHOON might have been liked by your parents before you even realized loved him. they worship the ground he walks on, always inviting him over without even asking you. sometimes, you'll come home to find them sitting with sunghoon in the living room, waving you over. sometimes you wondered if these were really the same strict parents that raised you.

and they're love for sunghoon has you so amused. what would they think if they knew he was the one finger fucking your poor cunt barely minutes after greeting them? the two of you on your bed, and he has you sat on his lap, hand in your panties and his fingers working fast. you clench so hard at the sound of footsteps, thighs closing. he forces them back open, scissors his fingers inside of you. "shh baby, s'all good." he whispers, groping your tit with his free hand as you grind down on his thigh, "you're alright."

#will be getting to asks soon! #heeseung smut #jay smut #sunghoon smut #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #🥽—✩ enhypen

[jellyfishrnice]

Yandere! Rich suitor idea

Hear me out-

The rich suitor that your parents have in mind for you to marry once you turn 30, the guy who's parents your parents are best friends and how they've been imagining their offspring getting married for decades! And how you absolutely can't stand your unofficial fiance!

Of course, he couldn't stand you either. All your lives grown up together with both your parents insinuating that you two will carry on their names. Each year you two would be sent off to some exotic vacation (your parents loosely supervising) and each year you both failed to hold a conversation without fighting. The pressure was always too much for you, you hated the idea of being tied down to some guy only your parents liked. And no matter how beautiful the boy was, he simply wasn't your type. He was too pretty, too spoiled, too prissy with his blonde hair tied in a ponytail and his stupid eyebrow piercing that made no sense considering his personality.

The guy you were supposed to marry felt the same, he couldn't understand what his parents saw in you. You were too wild, he couldn't imagine trying to carry on a family with how you barely even wanted to do school work. He didn't even consider ugly just so... Weird! With your weird, odd sense of fashion and refusal to think about your future , you were definitely not his type. You two hated each other.

Until the summer you two turned 21. The yearly vacation y'all took started off like any other. With both you dreading the sight of each other. But that changed very quickly once he saw you. This was the first year you two were alone, and maybe it was the fresh alcohol in your systems or the soft lights in whatever high class restaurant you were in, something clicked in your suitor's brain.

Turns out a year (or a couple) can really change the way you see someone. Whether he knew or not he started to admire the way you refused to comply with the strict set of rules set by the high class society you two lived in, and how you didn't care what anyone else thought of your peculiar way of self expression. It was admirable he had to admit.

And the night you two shared an accidental drunken kiss, it made the hair on his arms stand up, it made his face flush red(which he blamed on the liquor), and it made his heart pound in a way he never thought possible.

Every bone chilling reaction was forced out of him and it made his skin light on fire. After that night, he only wanted more to come out of your relationship.

But, the attraction was simply one sided.

You still only saw the same prissy boy. He still refused to look at things from more than one perspective, he still poked fun at your style of clothes, he still refused to say thank you to whatever person who was serving him!

He was everything you hated all wrapped up in one ball of a man.

And when he dropped the idea of getting married the next morning while you were still recovering from your hangover, you almost vomited.

-

"Ew! What the fuck are you talking about?!" You yelled while almost dropping the mug you had in your hand. The guy was just insulting you yesterday like he always does and now he's talking about marriage?

"You act as though marrying me is the worst thing possible." Andrew sighed while sipping on a glass of orange juice. He looked out the nearby window onto the private beach of the resort while leaning on the nearby wall. It didn't show but your response clearly hurt him just a bit.

"'Cuz it is." You groaned in frustration while sitting down on the living room couch. The guy you hate proposing is definitely not helping with your pounding headache.

You took a sip out of the mug of coffee and tried to rub away the ache from your temples. Why now of all times to propose? You two had at least 5 more years of freedom before yours and his parents would put their foot down and set a date for you two to sign the wedding papers.

"I mean- why not now? Its be better sooner than later, it would be like ripping off a bandaid-"

"Hell no." You sighed and set down your mug on the coffee table next to you and dropped your head onto a pillow. How were you going to deal with this?

"Anyway," you paused trying to gather your words, "don't you hate me? Why would you want to tie the knot so soon? I mean, you're an attractive guy right? Why don't you try out other options before having to-"

"I don't want other options."

You lifted your head and stared at Andrew for a second. The pink dusting his fair cheeks and avoidance of eye contact was all you needed to know.

You looked away from his face and stared at the wall behind him. Your head hurts even more than when you had woken up.

"I'm leaving."

"What?"

"I said I'm leaving." You hauled yourself off the couch and into your room. You could hear Andrews faint footsteps and even more of his questions but ignored it. You packed your backpack, only the necessities and a small bag of seashells. You were getting on the next plane and heading back home. Or wherever you could land first.

You were not staying here. You refused to marry. Not yet at least.

But as you try and open the door to leave, a large hand slams it shut before you can completely open it.

"Andrew. What the hell are you doing."

"You are not leaving." Andrew says while placing his other hand against the door, caging you.

You never realized how muscular Andrew was before this moment.

"Yes, I am. Now let go of the door-"

"No." He says in a much firmer tone.

It dawns on you that you're on a private beach with no one to hear you yell for help. You see one of his hands leave the door and for a second you think he's come back to his senses and stopped whatever crazy shit he was thinking- but instead he snaked his hand around your waist and lays his forehead on your shoulder.

"You're not leaving."

-

HEHEHEHE JUST A THOUGHT THOOO

Not proof read forgive me 😔

#yandere #oc x reader #oc #original content #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #orginal #yandere oc #yandere x reader #maybe more

[love-bitesx]

I loveeeedd the last story Tysm ❤️❤️❤️ Keep up the amazing work 🌈

I have another request

Hobie x fem spider reader

Reader has a weird stalker ex-bf, and the reader tries to keep it a secret from Hobie but he finds out and deals with the ex.

: ̗̀➛ STALKER. hobie brown x fem!reader

any criminal minds fans out there … i hope u see the parallels of my baby spencer also i'm so sorry, i didn't see until after i wrote this entire thing that you said 'fem spider reader' so it's a fem normal reader, so sorry! i hope it's still okay, tho!! thank u sm for ur support angel !! summary: hobie & y/n have been doing long distance for months, but she never told him exactly why. words: 2.8k (the words just kept coming, sorry its so long lmao) warnings: fem!reader, pronouns not really used but "my girl", "lady", etc. are, read at your own risk! weird stalker bf, creepy fella, hobie n y/n are long distance, very very soft hobie

“when can i call you next, darlin’?” hobie’s voice was laced with longing, bass distorted by static at the other end of the phone.

“if you’re quick, we can call tomorrow after 5,” you smiled, and if you were in an 80’s romcom, you’d be twisting the phone cord between your fingers.

“5pm it is, don’t be late,” you can hear his smirk, and a bolt of guilt strikes your chest.

“look, i need to ask something, and i think i already know the answer,” hobie speaks, and you bite your lip in anticipation, “the band and i are playing at a new venue tomorrow, it’s the biggest we’ve played, we’re all dead excited, and…”

a sigh.

“well, it won’t feel the same without you there, pretty.”

if the first bolt wasn’t enough, then the second one lived up to it, striking you into the dead center of your heart. it had been well over 6 months since you met hobie. well, “met”. you’d accidentally called the wrong number one day, meaning to contact a friend of a friend, but typing the last number wrong. picking up at the other end was a deep, almost mesmerising voice, telling you; “no bother, darlin’. it happens, just make sure not to lose this number, wanna hear more from ya.”

“hobie, you know i can’t,” your voice is brimming with remorse and you look to the ground.

“i know, shit with your parents, i get it," he tried hard to hide the disappointment, but his heart twanged with neglect and it creeped through into his words.

parents. strict, all-demanding 'parents'. that's what you told hobie when you first started dating, that the reason you aren't able to see him was because your mother was overbearing and extremely protective – it was a lie. a lie that was eating you up from the inside out. the truth was slightly more grim, however.

years ago, you got involved with a guy at work. a couple brief conversations turned into dates, and dates turned into anniversaries, anniversaries turned into toxic, violent arguments and after a long time of dating, you broke up with him. to say he took it badly, was a criminal understatement. threatening phone calls, showing up at your work, sending you gifts and menacing letters – his signature move was scaring off, and even once harming, any man or potential love interest that you interacted with. it was exhausting, and terrifying.

and hobie was different. he was sweet and kind, but rough around the edges, and his voice dripped in passion no matter the topic of conversation. his promises were never empty, and most importantly – he loved you. and you loved him. the last thing you wanted, was your ex to pop up and scare him off, so you kept it from him. limiting your relationship to phone calls at arranged times incase your ex was keeping tabs.

“i’m sorry, hobie,” is all you could muster, not even scratching the tip of the catastrophic iceberg that wedged the back of your throat.

“it’s okay, darlin’, don’t worry that pretty little head over it,” and just like every phone call, you melted into his words, “i love you, yeah? i’ll call you tomorrow at 5.”

“i’ll be waiting,” you smiled, cheeks flushed at his gentle affirmations, “i love you.”

with a ruckus of movement, and what sounded like a kiss, the call ended, and you stared at the screen silently for a moment. not much longer could you avoid it, and the malten bubble of dread spilled into your gut.

sending him a quick text:

‘good luck tomorrow, handsome. what’s the venue called again? you’ll do amazing x’

you turned off your phone, discarding it on the bed as you climbed into the hole of guilt you’d dug yourself.

“oi, you ready, blud?” hobie’s band mate yelled above the bustle and cheers from the crowd before them. large, bejewelled hands poised onto his guitar strings, he smirked.

“always.”

with a nod to the roadie, the lights went up, illuminating the stage and instruments, hobie's glowing with a harsh red tint. immediately, his sepia eyes digested the crowd. seeing the flushed, excitable faces staring back at him sent a shot of confidence to his bones, and they moved, strumming the guitar with such vigor that the stage floor shook beneath his feet. cheers erupted, and yet felt oddly empty. it was missing something, and he knew what it was immediately.

he'd truly give his all to have you there, front stage in his eyeline, screaming his songs like gospel. not that he'd ever seen you properly, only seeing teasing selfies you'd sent him over the months you'd been together. he didn't care, inherently, he'd fallen head over heels for your personality; a pretty face was only just a bonus.

however, he did yearn for your touch. to feel his hands in your hair, to kiss your cheek, your nose, your neck. he longed to have you with him, even just doing stupid little tasks, having you by his side through the domestic side of life.

his gall spurred him on, his passion surging through his fingertips, spilling out into the sound waves. the audience were lapping it up, screams and chants only barely audible under the booming power of their set. song, after song, after song his talented blood seeped out onto the strings, and his feet were almost numb from the vibration of the bass.

the final song arrived, and his chest was burning, vision blurry, heart pounding against his chest – and he loved it. it was their biggest crowd, their most excitable achievement so far, and his blood pumped with adrenaline as he finished off the set, falling to his knees as he strum his guitar with one final chord. lights falling, his chest was heaving and his eyes scanned the audience one final time – you weren’t there. he had to accept that.

“that was fuckin’ sick, blud!” his bassist yelled as they exited the stage, palm slapping hobie’s shoulder blade and elicited a wide, ecstatic grin.

“you smashed it, mate,” hobie shouted back over the booming stereo that took their place.

“nah, man, you stole the show,” his bassist shook his head, patting him again in appreciation, “good that your lady’s here to see it, too, she must be proud.”

“i wish, mate,” he sighed.

“did you not see her?” his ears perked up, and at his confused expression, his bandmate continued, “over at the back, by the bar, i didn’t know what she looked like, but she was asking after you. ‘er story adds up.”

"shit," he mutters, feet solid on the ground. his heart pounds, skeptical of your presence, but chest bursting with hope that it just might be you, "look, bro, i need to–"

"go! go, man, go see her," his bandmate pushes him in the direction of the bar, and he almost stumbles over his own feet to push the stage door open, met with the chaos of the crowded bar.

dark eyes scanning the aimless faces, he searched for anyone who could look like you; his stature brought him above everyone else, only by a little, but gave him an advantage to seek you out.

"sorry, i need to get past," he repeated, over and over to unassuming bodies, setting through the chaos to find his peace. pushing out at the back, a wave of light met him, shining through empty pint glasses and illuminating the bar.

there you were.

standing quietly, head nodding along to the blasting instrumentals, drink in hand; you were heart-stopping. and he was pretty sure his did. even if he’d never seen you face-to-face, he’d memorised the soft plump of your lips, alluring light in your eyes, even the way your hair fell against your skin from the photos he'd seen. there was no doubt it was you, and my god, you were beautiful. he couldn’t even stop his legs if he tried, as they carried him over to you.

"y/n?" his voice barely travelled through the sound waves, but it hit your ear like a familiar embrace.

turning to him, eyes wide and bright in the twinkling of the bar lights. you drunk him in, warm eyes swallowing every part of him. you'd seen pictures, again, but it could never compare to him. dark brown skin, soft to its complexion, hugged his bones in every perfect way; folding at the creases of his handsome face. he was tall, very tall, and the detail of the curves and indents of his muscles, altered by the shadows of the dim bar light, made your head fuzzy. god, he was beautiful – nothing that a digital screen could ever portray with justice.

"hobie," your voice was crisper than he was used to, and he would bottle it if he could, "hey, handsome, you got a–"

"come 'ere," he interrupted, essentially scooping you into his tense embrace, melting into your scent, the feel of you in his arms. his heart was pounding against his chest. you wrapped yourself around him, running your hands along his leather jacket, ghosting the skin below it.

"you interrupted my introduction," you pouted against his shoulder, "had a whole little joke planned and everything, you know."

"go on, hit me, love," he pulled back a tiny bit, his arms still glued around your waist, looking down through his lashes. you faltered under his intense gaze, giddy smile bursting onto your face and you buried your head in his chest.

"nuh uh, not anymore," you shook your head against him, "you ruined it."

his hand came up to touch your face whilst you spoke, following the edge of your hairline and tucking your hair around your shoulder. he was in awe, having you here, having you with him. tightening his embrace, he didn't want to let you go – ever.

"mhmm," his voice vibrated his chest, and you pulled away, "i'm sure it was hilarious, love."

"it really was," you chuckled, giddy in his presence.

the air grew thicker, your laughter dying out and left with just his strong gaze, his dark brown eyes following yours. you could barely comprehend him being here, in front of you, around you, and he was so much more than you had imagined. feeling his calloused hand caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch, inviting him into your world. cupping your face, hobie bought himself to you, leaning down until his pierced lips were ghosting your own. months he'd dreamed of this, imagined how it would feel to kiss his girl, to taste your lips and feel your love. he could feel your breath, and you were about to give in, until you pulled away.

"wait, i–" you swallowed thickly, pulling your touch from him.

"what's up, darlin'?" his eyes scanned your face for any sign of reason, "did i do somethin'?"

"no! no, you," you sighed, "you're perfect, it's not you."

he'd be lying through his teeth if he denied the pit of anxiety building deep in his stomach, bubbling up his throat.

"what is it?"

"i–" you stuttered again, and fought to get your words out of your brain and into the thick air of the bar, "i haven't been telling you the truth."

silence. just for a second. hobie's brain working over time.

"look, if you've got another fella, or somethin', just get it over with–"

"no! no, hobie, i'm yours, i promise," your words settled him for a second.

"my parents don't care about us, they aren't strict, in fact, they were happy when i told them about you," you begun, opening the dam.

"they know about me?" his voice was smaller than you were used to, and if your brain had a spare synapse to process it, you'd probably have melted.

"yes, and i'm sorry i haven't told you," you avoided his eyes, "it's my ex."

"oh, fuckin' 'ell," he sighed, dropping his arms to his side, and he's about to speak, until you interrupt.

"we broke up years ago, but he's never left me alone," you ring your wrists with your hands nervously, and hobie notices – you looked terrified, "i've tried everything; i've tried the police, i've moved countless times, i've changed jobs, made new friends, met new people – he won't leave me be."

tears welled up now, and his heart reached for you, but his arms stayed stuck by his side.

"every guy that i meet, he's, i don't know, calling them telling them i'm someone i'm not, or following them home and slashing tires, or roughing them up outside pubs," paranoia enveloped you, and your eyes darting around the crowd, "i was so scared, because you're the best i've ever had, and probably will ever have, and i don't want him to scare you off."

"y/n–"

"and i understand if this has done exactly what i'm scared of, because i get that keeping it from you was awful, but i was only trying to protect you and–"

his lips cut you off, warm against your own, capturing your words and pushing them back down your throat. hands on your cheeks, body flush against your own, you melted into him completely. it felt like heaven, like months of tension and longing unravelling like ribbon into the wind. it was safe, gentle, like a promise – a promise that it didn't scare him, and that he was yours.

"is he here?" his voice was low, lips hovering yours.

"i-i don't know," you were flustered, your brain trying to make sense of it all, but his hand on the small of your back stopped any cognitive thoughts, "i haven't seen him."

watching him, hobie's dark eyes floated around the crowd, before falling back onto you. smirk on his lips, he placed a quick peck onto your cheek.

"hmm, i hope he enjoyed the show," he chuckled lowly, and you couldn't help but mimic it, relief flooding off your shoulders, "how about we go somewhere a bit safer?"

"like where?" you questioned, intrigued by the coaxing tone of his voice.

"well, i only live around the corner," he shrugged, before offering his hand. blushing, you slipped your hand into his, the soft skin of his fingers pulling you towards him, until he threw his arm around your shoulder.

"nothing could scare me off, you know," he whispered, placing a kiss to your hair, "i'm 'ard as nails."

"oh yeah?" you giggled.

"mhmm."

clothed eyes glued to the suspicious figure, hobie stood on a rooftop, footsteps silent as he follows the man below. tailing him through the cobbled back lanes of london, hobie's back tingled with apprehension – he'd been following him for at least a mile, waiting for a perfect opportunity.

and he'd finally found it.

pausing his heavy stroll, the man dug into his pockets and pulled out a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes, fumbling further for a lighter. a small orange glow lit up the air around him as he puffed away, smoke fluttering to meet hobie's nose.

silently, hobie swung to a platform below, pulling his guitar tighter against his back and dropped to the hard ground. the sound of his leather boots colliding with the cobble made the man turn in his direction, eyes wide at the sight.

"spiderman?" the man breathed between puffs, voice hoarse, "can i help you?"

"you know what, i think you can," hobie strutted, hands stuffed into his leather jacket, lanky stance towering him, "are you y/n's ex fella?"

"who's asking?" he questioned stupidly, and hobie let out a laugh.

"bruv, who's– are you stupid or somethin'?" hobie punched him lightly in the shoulder, "do you not see the whole get up?"

"the fuck have you got to do with y/n?" he spat, defensive stance taking over his body.

"none of your business," hobie knew that would sting, "but you're gonna leave her alone, fella."

"you don't know what you're talking about."

"i'm not askin', mate," hobie stepped closer, "and i'm not givin' you a choice."

before he could even utter a response, hobie had swung his spike-studded arm in his direction, knuckles colliding against the pathetic man's jaw, knocking him to the ground below.

"tha's my girl you're messin' with now."

#hobie brown #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie #hobie my beloved #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #across the spiderverse #hobie x you #across the spider verse spoilers

[pinkchrissysposts]

🐳Stay consistent and persist don't let the 3D fool you🐳

Why some of us "fail" to manifest is because we are slave to the 3d and negative thoughts no seriously. And waiting for external validation is useless because it's giving the answer you want so why keep asking the 3d if you can manifest a car,money again and again,when we already have it in our true reality that is the 4d. We should not get overpowered by this 3d holographic circumstances and this illusionary thoughts which YOU chose to dwell on.

From my own experience law of assumption is a journey where YOU have to satisfy yourSELF not the 3d, everyone is different,everyone have their own personal favourite way to manifest like states,affirming,visualization or whatever you prefer. In my opinion you can start of with affirming,don't directly try to use states(it's not a method) if you are finding it difficult to embody state,just affirm,persist and saturate consistently,NOT to get in 3D but to satisfy your SELF internally.

Be consistent,discipline and persistent these are the KEY to satisfy your SELF, no matter what method you choose,embodying state or affirming,don't let the negative thoughts lead you back to your old self,be strict like an asian parents,and just how they bring you fruit after that yelling at you to study,your desires will also come in your 3d without causing any problem. Be your own parent during your manifestation journey,treat your negative thoughts like those bad influence kids, and when you start looking for movements and wondering how your desires gonna show up treat them like the judgement strangers who question you for everything you do or you have. Don't procrastinate that is when we usually start get doubts just because we aren't doing anything,activate the asian parent in you and scold yourself,and start to affirm and remind yourself who the boss is.

Also DONOT label any of your desires a "big" or "small" desire,they are all same,under you,YOU are on the pedestal not the desire,if you didn't thought about your desire they wouldn't even exist. So why even worry about them. Manifesting seeing a "butterfly" or seeing a "car" with certain "colour" is equivalent to manifest $2000 dollar out of nowhere,dating your celeb sp,having that hourglass body and waking up in your dream life.

When it comes to how you manifest it doesn't matter whether you affirm or embody state or being,SATS,what matter is your consistency because once you continue to persist you'll notice a shift also don't feel bad if you're someone who affirm for hours to saturate your mind but remember it's to remind yourself that you already have your desire in 4D, if you still feel like affirm and persistent will not take you anywhere go see Taylor Tookes insta and twitter post she is a living proof,most manifestation account from where I see success stories are usually affirm and persist girlies and boys like Taylor, Viper and BigDon three of my favourites on Twitter who share they're success story.

Bonus: Do not worry about your self concept,it's good to have one,but as someone who USED to have a good SC yet still couldn't manifest,I guarantee you it's not needed,but you can work on it if you believe it will help you manifest.

My rules are simple💙

☆.BE YOUR OWN DAMN ASIAN PARENT WHEN IT COMES TO MANIFESTING.

☆AFFIRM AND SATURATE TO SATISFY SELF(4D).

☆.YOUR ARE THE ON THE PEDESTAL NOT THE DESIRES.

☆.YOUR THOUGHTS ARE THE BAD INFLUENCE KIDS TRYI G TO GET YOU BACK IN YOUR OLD STATE AND JUDGEMENT STRANGERS MAKING FEEL LIKE YOU'RE DOING WRONG.

☆.MANIFESTING BUTTERFLY=MANIFESTING CELEB SP IS SAME NOTHING IS BIG OR SMALL EVERY DESIRE IS EQUAL.

#affirmations #affirm and saturate #affirm and persist #law of assumption #neville goddard #placebo effect #manifesting #manifestation #desired reality #self concept #SoundCloud

[girlgenius1111]

all that i did to try to undo it

engen!reader... platonic ingrid & reader + platonic mapi & reader

r lives with her sister, but their relationship is rather rocky. can they fix it before it's broken beyond repair? angst. pretty much just angst. r is not mentally well. proceed with caution.

–-----

Moving from Norway to Spain wasn’t your idea. It seemed that your parents had had quite enough of you. You knew you could have been better behaved, but you hadn’t realized they were so frustrated that they were willing to send you away. Not until it was too late. 

It was your friends, back in Norway, that were the issue. They were why you snuck out and drank and cut school and generally broke all the rules that had been set for you. And this was why, when you arrived in Spain, it all… stopped. Mostly because you barely spoke Spanish and had no friends. Also because Ingrid had adopted a rather tough love attitude with you. She was strict and cold and you knew that she wouldn’t tolerate any missteps. And honestly, you didn’t know where you’d go if Ingrid decided she didn’t want you around anymore. Not that you were sure she really did in the first place; you were pretty convinced that she was doing this as a favor to your parents. She didn’t want you here, and you weren’t going to push her to do something about that. 

Unbeknownst to you, Ingrid did want you there. It had been her idea for you to come to Spain in the first place. Your parents were at a loss with what to do with you, and Ingrid was tired of hearing how frustrated they were with you when she knew you were just trying to get their attention. She decided she could probably do a better job, simply by just paying attention. And so she did. She moved you in, she got on your ass about your responsibilities and your future, and you hadn’t yet put a toe out of line. Your sister was determined that you assimilate, thinking it would make it easier for you, so she only allowed you to speak Spanish in the home. She had Mapi read over your essays, and help with your grammar. She drove you to school everyday, and made you all eat dinner together as a family every night. It seemed to be working. You were quiet, but behaved. Ingrid was pretty convinced she’d done a good job, and solved the issue. You were a teen, and she figured you didn’t need her trying to hangout with you all the time. 

So, while Ingrid paid attention to your school, she didn’t pay much attention to you. She didn’t know you didn’t have any friends at your school, or that a lot of the kids were pretty cruel to you. She didn’t know school had turned into an entire nightmare, and that you had to push through an insane amount of anxiety just to walk through the front doors every morning. She didn’t know that you were behaving because you were scared of her kicking you out. She didn’t know you were desperately sad and homesick, not even allowed to speak your language in your own home with her. She didn’t know that all you wanted some days was for her to just pull you into a hug, and tell you she was proud of you. That she loved you. 

Why would she? Your parents clearly didn’t. Ingrid had no reason to either. 

Mapi had some reservations about the way Ingrid was with you. It was a complete 180 from the Norwegian’s normal demeanor. Ingrid was smiley and warm and silly with the younger girls on the team, and stern and harsh with you. Mapi noticed the way you watched your sister with her teammates, face full of jealousy. As time went on, though, and you didn’t cause trouble, Ingrid became more and more sure that her approach was the right one. Mapi still wasn’t as convinced. She wasn’t quite sure it was her place to say anything, though, so she kept a watchful eye on everything, and made sure to make you feel like their home was yours too.

You didn’t quite know what to make of Mapi, honestly. She was clearly infatuated with your sister. And she was always so kind to you. Mapi made you coffee every morning, made sure to buy all your favorite foods at the store, and she reminded you, repeatedly, that if you ever wanted to talk, about anything, she was around.  But Mapi was Ingrid’s. Not yours. If Ingrid was so reluctant to show you any affection, you shouldn’t seek it out from her girlfriend. 

You were quietly miserable. Ingrid thought you were okay, finally mellowing out. Mapi was caught somewhere in the middle, seeing both the side of yourself you hid from your sister, and the neutral façade you put on in front of her. 

For you, things couldn’t get much worse. Or at least, you didn’t think so. 

------

It had been a while since you’d gotten in a fight. You’d forgotten how good it felt to punch someone in the face who very much had it coming. 

It was your birthday. You would have forgotten, too, if a few of your old friends hadn’t texted you. Ingrid had forgotten. You’d woken up to her knocking on your door like she always did. She was focused on the important training session ahead, and barely spoke to you on the way to school. She’d forgotten your birthday, and you thought that it hadn’t bothered you. Until the idiotic group of boys was following you down the hallway, saying awful things. Until you’d snapped back at them in a way you never did, and until they began throwing punches. And you didn’t run. You turned and you fought and you let your anger and your hurt out for the first time in months. For the first time since you left Norway.

 There was an odd sense of calm that washed over you, waiting in the dean’s office for your sister to arrive. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, in that moment, what she would think. Your hands hurt, your face hurt, and you’d finally stood up for yourself to the awful boys that wouldn’t leave you alone. 

When Ingrid walked into the office, though, an absolutely livid expression on her face, you realized you did care. Very much. You had been waiting on the dean, and although he was a scary man, you would have rather faced him at that moment. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Ingrid hissed, grabbing your face in her hands and inspecting your wounds. 

“Ing,” 

“Do not. I cannot believe you. I don’t want to hear your excuses or your explanations. You are going to apologize to the dean, take your punishment, and we are going to go home. I’ll deal with you there. Understand?” 

You lowered your head, nodding. She took the seat on your other side, still visibly angry, though she softened for just a second as she looked closely at your hand. 

“Is anything broken?” She asked quietly. Your eyes flooded with tears at the question, everything inside of you screaming to lean into her arms. She was angry, you thought. She was angry, and she wouldn’t want to hug you right now. 

“I don’t think so.” You mumbled instead. 

“Good. María will patch you up when we get home.” Her tone was cold again, and you began to zone out. The dean walked in, spewing a long lecture. He didn’t tell Ingrid that you hadn’t swung first, or that the boys had been bothering you for weeks. He didn’t tell Ingrid what they called you, or that it was three 18 year old boys against an 18 year old girl. He just said that the school didn’t tolerate fighting, and that you would be suspended for a week. 

The worst part was that Ingrid didn’t even ask what happened. Not in the office, not in the car, not when you both got home. You used to get into fights all the time, back in Norway. She thought this was more of the same from you. Your sister stormed off to call your mom the minute you were in the house, leaving you standing in the entry hall in front of Mapi, eyes fixed on the ground. 

Mapi’s hand was gentle when it rested on your back, gently guiding you up the stairs and into the couple’s bathroom. She sat you on the counter like you were a little kid, and pulled out the first aid kit. Only then did you raise your head and look at her. You thought she would be mad, but she only looked concerned. 

“She hates me.” You said it before you could stop yourself, and your voice shook over every syllable. Mapi’s face melted, and she shook her head insistently, carefully wiping a tear off your face. 

“No, nena. She’s upset, but she loves you very much.” Mapi seemed convinced. She loved your sister, after all. And though you didn’t know it, Mapi had been a witness to your sister worrying over you for 2 years now. 

There was no use arguing, so you stopped talking again, and Mapi got back to cleaning your face up. She asked you a couple questions in English about things that hurt and didn’t hurt, and you responded in English. Mapi had moved on to cleaning the cuts on your knuckles when Ingrid appeared. 

“Can you bend your fingers?” Mapi asked. 

“Yeah, it’s a little sore, but I can bend them.” You replied. 

“Español.” Ingrid scolded. You nodded, correcting yourself quickly, now trying to stifle the flow of tears flowing from your eyes. 

“How are you feeling?” Ingrid asked, stepping in closer to study you closely. 

“Okay. Hurts a bit but I’m fine.” You said softly. 

“Do you promise it just hurts a bit?” Ingrid asked. 

“Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. Your body didn’t hurt that bad. You hurt though. Every inch of you ached with a deep sadness, a deep loneliness. But that wasn’t what Ingrid had asked. 

“We have a dinner tonight, a team dinner. Will you be okay here if we go?” 

A little bit of you shattered, then. Maybe you’d been hoping that Ingrid had remembered your birthday, had been planning a fun dinner or something. Clearly not. 

“Yeah. I’ll get a head start on my homework.” You managed, biting down hard on your lip to stop yourself from crying. Ingrid nodded, satisfied, but Mapi didn’t look away from you. 

“Are you sure? You look a bit upset, nena. We can stay if you need us.” 

You shook your head harshly. “No, I’m fine. Promise.” 

You were very far from fine. You needed to be alone, though, if you were going to feel every complicated emotion raging through you. 

------

“Ingrid,” Mapi said suddenly, about halfway into their drive to the restaurant. Ingrid hummed in response, looking over at her girlfriend from the passenger seat. “Your sister said something today. And it seemed like she really, really believed it. I think you need to be a little easier on her, amor. She’s just a kid.” 

“What did she say?” Ingrid wondered, head stuck on that comment. 

Mapi hesitated, well aware of how hard this might hit Ingrid. “She said you hated her. She was pretty convinced, Ingrid. How mad were you at the school?” 

Ingrid sighed roughly, running an exhausted hand over her face. “Fuck. She’s always been dramatic, I forget that she’s just… sensitive sometimes. I was pretty harsh.” She admitted. 

“Amor, I know you think this strict approach is working, but I don’t know. She seems so sad sometimes. She’s just a kid, and she’s doing her best. I think she needs you to be a bit… softer with her.” Mapi suggested, finally voicing the thoughts that had been plaguing her for weeks, if not months. 

Ingrid was quiet for a while. “Maybe. I don’t know, I thought it was working, but then today happened. I don’t know what to do.” 

“Why don’t you just… talk to her? What was the fight even about?” Mapi asked. 

Ingrid didn’t respond, her frustration with herself quickly replacing her frustration with you. 

“You didn’t ask?” Mapi sighed. 

“No, but the dean didn’t say either.” Ingrid defended halfheartedly. 

“That probably isn’t a good thing mi amor. We’ll talk to her when we get home. Figure out what’s going on.” Mapi declared. 

“We?” Ingrid asked quietly, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“We.” Mapi affirmed, looking cautiously at her girlfriend. “Is that okay?” 

“More than okay.” Ingrid assured her. “I think she might need both of us.” 

It was clearer, now, to Ingrid. Suddenly, and very painfully. That she’d gone about this wrong. The extent of the damage that had been done was not yet to be realized, though. 

--------

The silence that echoed through the house was what got you. Today, on your 18th birthday, you sat alone at the kitchen table, tears falling freely from your eyes. They stung the cuts in on your face, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. It felt like wherever you went, you messed up. Wherever you went, you weren’t wanted. When you’d come to Norway, you’d had hope that maybe things would be different. Maybe Ingrid would treat you differently than your parents. She had, but you still didn’t feel loved. It felt like there was something fundamentally wrong with you that drove everyone away. You just wanted to make it better, and yet, at the same time, you felt so incredibly hopeless. Like there was nothing in the world you could do to make your family love you. You supposed it was your fault; you’d been acting out for years. Everyone was bound to get tired of you. You didn’t want to be like that, you just didn’t know what else to do. The age gap to your siblings was huge, your parents were tired of being parents, and no one had any time for you. Or the desire to make time. You’d done the only thing you could think of at the time to get their attention, and it had only made things worse. You had only made things worse. 

And still, a part of you was angry. Furious. Did you have to be perfect? Did you have to make no mistakes? Shouldn’t they love you regardless of all that? There was no consistency in your brain; sometimes it all felt like your fault, and other times it felt like there wasn’t anything you could do right. 

You felt the inexplicable urge to apologize. Really apologize, really explain.  Maybe they could forgive you. Maybe Ingrid could forgive you, maybe you could get her to understand. You didn’t think you could make it through an entire apology, though, not verbally, not face to face with your intense sister. So you got out a piece of paper, and began writing. 

Ingrid,

I’m sorry. I’m sorry you got stuck with me, and I’m sorry I haven’t been good enough. I’ve tried, I promise I have. Sometimes I feel like it isn’t possible for me to meet your standards, but I still try. 

I’m sorry about the fight today. They came at me, I swear. These three boys have been bothering me since I've arrived, and they say horrible things to me, and I just snapped. I should have just kept quiet, and they never would have started the fight, and I’m sorry I didn’t do that. 

I’m sorry I’m always home and bothering you and Mapi. I’m sorry I haven’t made any friends here, and I’m sorry my spanish isn’t perfect. I’m sorry I'm so miserable. I don’t know why I can’t just be happy, but I can’t. I want to be. I really do. It just feels like you’re always mad at me. I feel like such an awful person no matter what I do. Mom and Dad didn’t want me. And I don’t think you want me. I don’t think I want me either, sometimes. 

I’m trying to like it here, but it’s so different. I miss Mom and Dad, even though I know they don’t miss me. I miss my home and I miss Norway. I miss my friends. I didn’t really feel like I belonged there, but at least it was familiar. 

I think I’m mad at you, too. You’re my sister, Ingrid. Do you always have to be so harsh with me? I think I’d be happier, if you seemed happier that I was here. 

You forgot my birthday. Mom and Dad didn’t remember either.  I turned 18 today. I turned 18 today, and you and Mapi went to dinner without me. I made a sandwich and ate it by myself in the kitchen. I’ve never felt so worthless. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. I just want you all to love me again. I want to love myself again. I think I’d do anything, to feel like I have a family again. 

I’m so desperate I’m writing you this absurd letter that I’ll probably never give you. I don’t know if I can give it to you. I’m scared to give it to you, and I’m scared not to. 

I’m scared because sometimes I think everyone would be better off without me. I’m scared because it feels like no one would even notice if I was gone. It feels so easy. Everyday it feels like it would be easier. 

I guess I’m asking for help, Ingrid. I don’t want to ask you to fix this for me, but I don’t think I can do it myself.  I want to be better, I want to

Your writing cut off abruptly, as the front door opened. All you felt was panic. You were a mess, sobbing uncontrollably on the couch with the letter almost completed in front of you. They weren’t supposed to be home yet. The event was supposed to be a long one, and you’d planned on leaving the letter, if you were brave enough, on the kitchen table, and going to bed. Handing it to your sister face to face had never been the plan. You weren’t even sure it made any sense, and you weren’t sure you wanted to give it to her. 

The front door swung open anyway, and Mapi walked into the house. You remembered, then, that she was always coming home early. She had a follow up appointment for her knee the following morning, and she hadn’t wanted to be out late. Alexia had driven her home early, not wanting a late night herself. Ingrid was still at the dinner, but Mapi was here. Standing frozen in the entryway, with a perfect view of the disaster you were on the couch. You were frozen, and she was frozen, but then she was moving, moving closer to you, and you couldn’t you couldn’t you couldn’t. 

“Pequeña, what is it? What hurts?” Mapi asked urgently, moving to sit next to you on the couch. She thought you must be hurt, physically. The thought that the agony on your face could be from anything else didn't even enter her brain. 

She sat next to you, and you were still frozen, not even able to move the piece of paper out of sight. 

Mapi saw it. You were using one of your textbooks as a surface, not unlike how you did your homework. Your favorite pen was in your hand. And resting in your lap, on the textbook, was a piece of paper that somehow radiated pain. Mapi was reaching for it before she even knew what she was doing, and you were still frozen. Frozen, staring at Mapi like you were afraid of her. Very suddenly, Mapi was terrified. 

“Nena, what is this?” She asked softly. It was to Ingrid. Written in Spanish. Mapi saw her name in it a few places as she scanned it over, before she looked back up at you. “Nena?” she prompted again. 

This time, you did move. You jolted forward, reaching for the letter, a deep gasping breath escaping your mouth. Mapi held it out of your grasp, her eyes stuck on one sentence, the only sentence that she’d read so far. It had jumped out at her. 

“I’m scared because sometimes I think everyone would be better off without me.” 

An instantly, Mapi knew she couldn’t let you take the piece of paper back. She knew she needed to call Ingrid and tell her to come home. She knew she couldn’t let you out of her sight. You were so fragile, though, sitting in front of her like you were second away from shattering into a million pieces. Too many pieces for anyone to ever be able to fix. 

“Nena, I think I need to read this.” She whispered, watching carefully as you pulled your hand back towards your body, as you curled in on yourself, and began to shake with silent sobs. 

And then Mapi read the letter. With one hand on your back, and one hand tightly clutching the paper, she read the most painful thing she’d ever laid her eyes on. It tore her apart, reading how you felt. 

And it wasn’t meant for her. It was meant for Ingrid. And, ridiculously, Mapi wished she could fix it before Ingrid ever read what you’d written. Mapi would have done anything in that moment, to make things right with you, and to make sure Ingrid never had to know how badly she had hurt you. Because realizing it would hurt the Norwegian just as much. 

Mapi ached to tell you so many things. That Ingrid loved you so much, she just wasn’t sure how to help you. That she thought what she was doing was working, helping. That she was sure Ingrid didn’t know the date, or she’d have never forgotten your birthday. That she knew Ingrid would do anything, anything in the world, to fix this. That Mapi was sure both she and Ingrid would go back in time if they could, and fix everything that had gone wrong. 

She couldn’t force that all on you now. She couldn’t defend Ingrid, or herself. 

Instead, she placed the letter carefully on the table, and sent Ingrid a very brief text. 

“You need to come home now. Everything is fine, everyone is safe, but you need to come home.”

Instead, Mapi pulled you into her lap, and held you so tight it almost hurt. 

Instead, your sister’s girlfriend, who owed you absolutely nothing, told you, over and over, how very loved you were. How proud she was of you. How her and Ingrid were going to fix everything if it killed them. 

They’d fix everything before it killed you. 

------

🙂

#woso x reader #woso imagine #engen!reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #platonic reader

[kiarastromboli]

Teach me (Chris Sturniolo x y/n)

Part.2 Part.3

Masterlist.

Warning: Virgin reader, Smut content, don’t like it = don’t read it :)

Summary: Chris shows up in the middle of the night in your room, asking for answers to the exam you both are supposed to take in the following days, and things take an unexpected turn.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

We are on a summer Tuesday evening, the air warm and heavy, the sound of cicadas outside, and the gentle breeze causing tree branches to brush against my window sill, absolute calm. The house was silent; it was already 11:25 PM, the only reason I wasn't asleep? I was busy revising for the upcoming major exam. Honestly, I didn't need to; I had the knowledge and even more, but I'm a perfectionist. Why settle for the minimum when you can achieve much more?

Anyway, I allowed myself to study a bit more tonight since I have no classes tomorrow. I had some music playing in the background, loud enough for me to hear but not too loud to distract me. Tonight, nothing could distract me!

*knock knock knock*

I jumped in surprise when I heard faint noises coming from the window at the other end of my room. I thought I was impossible to distract, but apparently, I was wrong.

I walked slowly towards the window; it was probably my cat scratching to come in. Well, I wasn't sure; what else could it be?

I pulled the curtain covering my window to open it and came face to face with Chris Sturniolo.

WAIT, WHAT? What is that rascal Chris doing at my window? Oh my god, if my parents hear him, I'm done for.

Let me give you a brief recap to better understand the situation and the reason for my current anxiety.

My name is Y/n, and honestly, there's not much to say about me. I'm a quiet girl, the complete opposite of what one would consider "cool" and "popular." I'm disciplined, polite, courteous, studious, discreet – in short, the perfect little girl who will have a good diploma, an excellent job in an excellent city, and an excellent family. I do what is expected of me without questioning, and I never, I repeat, NEVER go against the rules.

Chris, on the other hand, is Chris. If I were a boy, I would be absolutely the opposite of that guy. He plays on the high school lacrosse team with his brother. He's a real jerk – sorry, I don't want to sound vulgar, but he's a real jerk. He spends his time skipping classes to do who knows what with who knows who. He thinks he's "cool" and "popular" because all the girls run after him, but the truth is, he's just a good-looking guy with a devilish behavior. Back in elementary school, I had a crush on him; when he found out, he mocked me, and he never stopped, even now in high school. So, yes, he's an immature jerk.

What could Chris possibly be doing at my window in the middle of the night when my parents are at home? My father has always been strict about no boys in my room, and certainly not in the middle of the night?

"Are you going to let me in?" he said, looking up at me.

"Absolutely not! How do you know where I live? You can't stay here; you have to leave now!" I shouted in a panic, looking around to make sure no one saw him here.

"Let me in, and I'll answer all your little questions," he said with a smirk.

"Oh my god," I whispered to myself, bringing my hand to my forehead. "No, Chris, you don't understand; my parents are here. If they know there's a boy at my window—"

"Okay, if you don't let me in, I'll knock on the front door, pretending to be your boyfriend. It's up to you," he said, cutting me off before moving away from my window.

"NO! Okay, fine, come in," I sighed. "Damn, damn, damn," I muttered to myself as I moved away from the window to lock the door to my room.

"Your room is cool," he said, dropping onto my bed as if it were his own. "What's his name?" he added, picking up a stuffed animal lying on my bed.

"Get your filthy body off my clean bed, please," I snapped, grabbing my stuffed animal from his hands with a brisk motion.

"Relax; I just wanted to chat," he said, rolling his eyes before getting up to move towards me. "Nice pajamas," he said with a smirk, scanning my body with his eyes.

I blushed uncontrollably; I was wearing really short shorts and an equally short tank top. What? It's fine; I know what you're thinking. I'll stop you right there; it's summer, it's super hot, and I didn't anticipate Mr. Troublemaker's surprise visit.

"What do you want?" I asked timidly, stuttering and crossing my arms to hide my stomach. I hated having my body exposed in front of others; it made me feel vulnerable.

"I need your help for the exam coming up next week," he said, moving towards my desk. "And before you refuse to help me, I have an offer you can't refuse!" he said, turning to me, leaning against my desk this time.

"And did you have to come and ask for my help in the middle of the night, Chris, seriously?" I replied, annoyed.

"I stole the test papers from the teachers' lounge. If you help me, you can memorize all the answers by heart," he said, crossing his arms with a smug smile.

I laughed when he presented his "impossible to refuse" offer. What an idiot. "If you think that I, Y/n, will help you cheat on the most important exam of the year, you're way dumber than I thought."

"Oh yeah? You seemed pretty bothered by the bad grade you got in gym yesterday," he said, advancing towards me. "You know, I know the coach really well, well enough to be able to change your grade."

Damn, it was the only grade below average I had all year. It's true that it would be convenient to make it disappear. What? No, Y/n, you're crazy; this is Chris we're talking about, he's a manipulator, and you're falling into his trap. Oh my god, stop; I need to get him out of here.

"Why do you want me to help you? Find the answers yourself," I replied, giving him a dark look.

"Because I don't feel like it, and you love this kind of thing," he said, rolling his eyes. "Y/n, it's beneficial for both of us. Look, you ensure you get 100% on the exam, in addition to seeing your gym grade increase, and it will save me from repeating this year."

"Get out of my room, Chris; I'm not going to help you cheat. It's bad," I said, crossing my arms.

"Bad? Who do you think you are? Come on, we don't care; it's just an exam!" he said, laughing.

"You don't care, but I do," I said, pointing to the window he came in through.

He smiled arrogantly before licking his lips, looking at me. "You're more tenacious than I thought," he said, plunging his eyes into mine. "I like that."

I won't lie; his words made me a little nervous at the moment. Okay, I said he was a big jerk,

not that he was ugly!

"Oh, are you blushing because of me? Does what I say affect you?" he said, slowly approaching me.

"G-Get out of my room," I said weakly, stepping back.

"Why? You don't want me to leave your room, Y/n. Don't lie to me; I know you like me," he said confidently, continuing to advance towards me until my back hit the door of my room.

I swallowed hard as I felt my throat tighten due to the proximity between us. "You're insane. I would have to be crazy to like a guy like you," I said timidly, avoiding his gaze.

"I'm sure I can drive you crazy," he said, grabbing my chin to force me to look him in the eyes.

A wave of heat engulfed me; I slightly opened my mouth to get more air. My heartbeat accelerated; I must be all red now.

"Listen," he said, getting even closer to me. "If you help me with this exam," he said, placing his hand in the small of my back, "in addition to the things I've already offered you," he said, slowly lowering his hand to my hip, "I can also show you a few things you might like," he said softly, plunging his eyes into mine.

I cleared my throat. "What are you talking about?" I said all timid.

"Oh, come on, Y/n, you know exactly what I'm talking about; you're dying for it. Look at yourself," he said with an arrogant smile. "And if you want to know, I'm dying for it too," he whispered in my ear, making my knees weak.

"Stop lying, you don't give a damn about me. You're acting like an asshole with me; you only want the answers to this exam," I said, stuttering and trying not to be swayed by his sweet words.

"Y/n, I know where you live because I follow you after school every day to make sure nothing happens to you on the way," he said, moving his face a few centimeters away from mine. "I spend my time teasing you in the hope of getting closer to you," he added, running his hand over my cheek. "If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't have even noticed the bad grades you're getting in PE," he said, rolling his eyes.

If these were lies, then he's a very good liar. Oh my god, my mother always warned me about bad boys like Chris, but I felt like fainting when his hand tightened a little more around my hip. "Chris—"

"You know what, screw this exam; I'll study it on my own. Let me kiss you, and I promise to leave your room and never bother you about this exam again," he said, almost sounding desperate. Wait, is he serious? Chris has a crush on me? I must be dreaming; it can't be possible.

"Chris, if this is a joke, it's really not funny," I said uncertainly, furrowing my brow when he moved his face closer to mine.

"I'm dead serious," he said, fixing his gaze on my lips.

My eyes were switching between his and his lips; I didn't know what to do. I was bewildered by the situation until Chris placed his soft lips on mine. My eyes instinctively closed to better savor the moment. I was kissing the most handsome guy in high school in my room, just like in the movies. His hand slid under my shorts to grab my buttock, making me sigh in surprise during our kiss. He seized the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, dancing with mine. He started smiling against my lips when he heard a pathetic moan die in our kiss as he began to knead my buttocks.

"Chris," I said, separating our lips and pushing him by his chest.

"What?" he said with a confused look as I moved away from him.

"We're not going to do this," I told him, shaking my head. "My parents are here; you can't just barge into my room in the middle of the night and coerce me with sex to get the answers to this damn exam," I said, offended.

"Y/n, I don't care about the exam. I did all this to get closer to you!" he said, taking a step towards me.

I stepped back when he tried to grab my hand to hold it in his. "Okay, prove it," I said, crossing my arms. "You said you would leave me alone about this exam and leave my room if I let you kiss me," I added, heading to the window to open it again.

He opened his mouth to speak before changing his mind, shaking his head.

"Show me you're not a liar," I said, pointing to the window.

He sighed before moving towards the window. "I'm not a liar, Y/n," he said, furrowing his brow before starting to pass his legs through the window.

There, I was finally rid of him. I should feel relieved, right? So why does something deep inside me break seeing him leave?

Without thinking, before he had time to pass through my window entirely, I grabbed him by his T-shirt to kiss him again. I couldn't let him go like that. I don't know what was happening to me, but everything was screaming at me to throw myself on his lips and never leave them.

He straightened up before closing the window with one hand. His other hand came to caress my cheek.

I had absolutely no idea what I was doing; we headed towards my desk without paying attention. He grabbed the back of my thighs to make me sit on my desk just behind me. His lips left mine to move towards my neck, his arms tightened around my waist, and my thighs surrounded his.

"Do you still want me to leave your room now?" he said arrogantly.

"Shut up," I said, feeling my breath quicken when he started sucking on the skin of my neck between his lips. "Chris, you can't leave marks," I said, a little panicked.

"Why not? You're mine," he said authoritatively, raising his face in front of mine and grabbing my throat in his hand.

"First, I'm not yours, Chris, and second, my father will kill me if he sees hickies on my neck," I said, chuckling timidly at his reaction.

Without a word, he began kissing my neck again before slowly moving towards my chest, making me anxious. "What are you doing?" I asked, stuttering.

"I'm leaving my mark where I'm sure no one else will see it," he whispered before grabbing the fabric of my tank top to slightly uncover my breast and place his lips on it.

"Chris—" I said, jumping when he started sucking a hickey on that sensitive area.

I could feel shivers running through my entire body; my back arched, and my thighs instinctively tightened around his waist while a few silent moans escaped my lips.

"Are you always this sensitive, or am I the one making you feel this way?" he said, raising his head towards me with a big smile.

I started blushing uncontrollably when he said that; I didn't even have a response to his question. I had never done anything like this with a boy before.

"Did you lose your tongue?" he asked, tilting his head to the side before coming to fix a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I-I don't know," I said in an almost inaudible voice. "Is it wrong?" I asked, embarrassed.

"No, not at all," he said, frowning. "What do you mean by 'I don't know'?" he asked, confused.

"I—" I didn't know what to answer. A silence settled at that moment; he looked me in the eyes before realizing.

"You've never done anything with a boy?" he asked, surprised.

I simply shook my head from side to side, too embarrassed to say anything.

His arrogant smile covered his lips a few seconds later. "Do you want me to teach you?"

My eyes widened when I heard that. I hesitated for a moment before nodding timidly.

"Use words, princess," he said, stroking my waist to encourage me to speak.

"I want you to teach me how to do it," I said, feeling a wave of confidence in myself.

He smiled before kissing me again; this time our kiss was slow and gentle, as if to reassure me. His hands played with the hem of my tank top. "Can I take this off?" he asked calmly.

"Take yours off first," I asked directly. I didn't want to be the only one exposed for some reason. My statement made him chuckle, and he separated from my lips to remove his t-shirt.

I took a moment to observe him. Unconsciously, I started biting my lips, and Chris smiled at my reaction. "It's your turn now," he said, moving towards me again.

Once again, I hesitated for a moment, looking into his eyes. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to, you know," he said without breaking eye contact.

His words were enough to make me feel comfortable. I took my tank top off over my head without overthinking it. "But I want to," I said before covering my chest, feeling a wave of embarrassment engulf me.

Chris immediately grabbed my arms. "You don't need to hide from me, Y/n," I let him remove my arms from the way, and he directed his eyes to my chest, licking his lips. "You're beautiful," he said before pressing his lips against mine once again.

I felt more and more at ease with him. My hands, which were previously at the back of his neck, started to travel along his chest down to his waist, where he hastily seized my wrist. "Slow down, princess."

"What? Did I do it wrong? Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?" I asked, panicking. He chuckled at my reaction.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong," he said, smiling. "We have all the time in the world, don't rush yourself," he whispered before kissing my neck again.

My hand found its place in his hair, and he gradually directed his kisses towards my chest, prompting me to throw my head back at the new sensation of his lips around my nipples.

One of his hands slipped between my thighs, making me jump and tilt my head forward at the proximity of his hand to my sensitive area.

He began to gently caress my pussy through my clothes, causing a silent moan to escape my lips.

I could feel my head starting to spin due to all this sudden stimulation; I couldn't help but squirm in all directions. "Can I take off your shorts?" he asked, looking up at me.

"Y-yes," I replied timidly before he slowly removed my shorts and resumed kissing me, this time moving down to my stomach, making me breathe harder.

He stopped kissing me when he reached the level of my white panties to examine them closely. "You're so wet that I can see the trace on your panties," he said with a smirk.

Embarrassment washed over me. "I'm sorry," I said softly, trying to close my thighs, but he grabbed them to force me to keep them open.

"Don't be," he said, bringing his head closer to my thighs. "I like it," he said, planting a kiss on my clothed pussy, making me shiver. "You're so sensitive; I bet I could make you come in less than 5 minutes with my tongue," he said, running his fingers between the fabric of my panties and my skin.

"Do you want me to do it?" he asked, looking up at me with a sly smile. I timidly nodded. "Say it," he said in a firm tone.

"What?" I asked, a bit embarrassed.

"If you want me to do it, you'll have to ask me, Y/n," he said arrogantly.

"Chris," I said in a frustrated moan; I could see his smile widening, amused by the situation. He returned to plant another kiss on my still-clothed pussy. "I-I want you to make me come with your tongue," I said, almost inaudibly moaning.

"Anything you want, princess," he said satisfied before removing my panties. I lifted my hips to help him, and he placed a few kisses around my sensitive area before putting my legs over his shoulders and diving his head between my legs.

The upper part of my body leaned forward slightly at the sensation of his lips around my clit. Instinctively, my hand pressed into his long, wavy hair, and I couldn't control the soft moans that escaped me. "Y/n, quiet down; your parents will hear you," he said, chuckling against me before getting back to work.

His tongue applied pressure to my clit, driving me wild. One of his hands reached for my breasts to play with them, mainly to prevent me from squirming all over my desk, which kept creaking. He moved his tongue in circular motions, gradually increasing the speed. After a few seconds, I felt something new in my lower abdomen, as if it were knotting due to the pressure. My thighs started to tighten slightly around his face without me realizing it. When I lowered my eyes to look at him, I could see his beautiful blue eyes already fixed on me, admiring me as if I were his last meal.

My eyebrows furrowed when all this stimulation started to take over. "Chris," I struggled to say in a weak voice; it felt like I was about to faint. "Oh my—fucking god," I said, throwing my head back and covering my mouth with my hand.

Chris didn't stop; on the contrary, he accelerated his movements, and his grip on my breasts became much firmer. He started moaning between my legs, and the vibrations of his moans against my clit were enough to push me over the edge. My legs began to tremble. "Fuck—Chris," I said before reaching orgasm on his face.

He slowed down the movement of his tongue before completely stopping to let me ride out my orgasm. "I told you," he said, straightening up and using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, "less than 5 minutes."

I chuckled at his remark, "You never stop boasting, huh?" I said with a smile, and his hands came around my cheeks before placing a chaste kiss on my lips.

"Never," he said, smiling before I reconnected our lips, making him smile at my hungry kiss. "What do you want?" he asked, separating our lips.

"I want to pleasure you too," I replied, playing with his necklace. He licked his lips, looking into my eyes.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, pressing his pelvis against mine to make me feel his erection through his pants, and I nodded.

"Yes, that's what I want," I said with an innocent look.

He immediately reconnected our lips without waiting a second longer, then grabbed the back of my thighs to carry me to my bed.

He gently placed me at the edge of the bed before leaning forward to kiss me again. "If you want us to stop, let me know," I brought my hands to his belt to remove it while he looked at me with desire.

I lowered his pants and stared at his erect member. Suddenly, panic resurfaced. "You don't have to do this," he said, bringing his hand to my cheek.

I looked up to meet his reassuring gaze. "I don't know how to do it," I said timidly, "but I want to." I added, placing my hand on his thigh.

"Do what feels right, I'll guide you," he said, never taking his eyes off me, as I slid down his boxers to his ankles.

The apprehension and stress were still there, but it was too late; after all, I was already committed. I really wanted it; I was just terribly afraid of messing up. I stopped overthinking and took his member in my hand, giving him a look to make sure I wasn't doing anything wrong. He nodded to indicate I should continue. I began hesitant strokes with my hand, eliciting a moan from his mouth.

His hand came to caress the top of my head, and I threw him a last uncertain glance before taking him into my mouth. He flinched and took a step back when I started, and I immediately looked up at him in panic. "Sorry," I apologized embarrassedly.

"No, don't be. It's okay; you just need to avoid letting your teeth touch it. It's not very pleasant," he explained in a reassuring voice before coming back towards me.

I nodded, and this time, I made sure my teeth didn't touch him. His hand returned to my hair. "Yeah, like that," he moaned, making my pussy clench at the tone of his voice. I continued my movements with closed eyes. "You can use your hand for what you can't fit in your mouth," he said weakly, and I did as he instructed. I could feel how much he was holding back from thrusting into my mouth to avoid rushing me, and the muffled sounds from his mouth sent an electric shock to my pussy.

"Fuck, you need to stop," he said, throwing his head back. I pulled away and looked up at him, confused.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, feeling lost.

"No, baby, you did a great job. It's just that I was about to come," he said, caressing my cheek and catching his breath.

"Oh," I said, chuckling. "Maybe you can come inside me?" I said without thinking, excited by the moment; I wanted more.

"Y/n," he said, diving his eyes into mine before I got up, grabbed the back of his neck, and kissed him again. "Is this really what you want?" he asked before reconnecting our lips.

"Please," I said pathetically, guided by my desires and excitement at that moment. My hands tangled in his hair, and his hands firmly gripped my hips.

"I don't have a condom, princess," he emphasized, smiling against my lips.

"I have..." I said timidly before heading to my bedside table to take out a new box of condoms.

A sly smile appeared, and I could already feel his remarks coming. So, before he had a chance to say anything, I cut him off, "I'm a virgin, not irresponsible, Chris," I said, rolling my eyes when I stood in front of him.

"I didn't say anything," he said, chuckling, before pushing me onto the bed and positioning himself above me to kiss me again. "Are you sure this is really what you want, Y/n?" he asked, directing his lips to my neck. "I don't want you to feel forced into anything. What we've done already is more than enough for now," he added.

"Jeez, Chris, stop talking," I said, chuckling, before grabbing his head between my hands to kiss him even more passionately than before.

"Are you that impatient?" he said, chuckling. "I need to stretch you a bit first, okay?" he said, directing his fingers towards my entrance. I simply nodded, and he pushed the first finger inside, prompting me to raise my head at the sensation. "Is it okay?"

"Yes, you can add another finger," I said, feeling my breath quicken. He inserted a second finger and began to move them in and out to stretch me.

"I wish your parents weren't here so I could hear you better, Y/n. You make beautiful sounds," he said, burying his head in my neck and curling his fingers inside me to stretch me further.

"Chris," I said, moaning and pulling slightly on his hair, "I need more."

"Do you think you're ready?" he asked, looking into my eyes. He had never looked at me like that before; his gaze was tender and caring.

"Yes," I replied, nodding. He grabbed a condom and opened it with his mouth. I could feel the pressure building, but I wasn't going to back down. I was going to do it; I was ready to do it.

He put on the condom and positioned himself at my entrance. "Tell me if you want me to stop, and I'll do it immediately," he said, and I nodded. "It might hurt a bit at the beginning if it's too much for you—"

"Chris, just do it," I said, cutting him off when I felt the stress overwhelm me.

He began to push slowly inside me, scrutinizing any sign of discomfort on my face. My eyebrows furrowed at the burning sensation when he started penetrating me. "Fuck," I said, glancing down to see what was happening between my legs before letting my head fall back on the pillow. He stopped halfway to make sure it wasn't too much for me. "Don't stop," I said, breathing quickly, and he resumed his advance until he touched the depth, prompting me to bury my head in his neck to muffle a moan.

"Are you okay?" he asked without moving from where he was.

"Yes, you can move," I said before he began to make slow thrusts. At first, it burned a little; it was uncomfortable, but with each subsequent movement, the pain transformed into pleasure.

"Oh my god, you're so tight, Y/n, fuckkk," he said, moaning against my lips. His thrusts gradually accelerated, and my hand gripped his bicep.

"It-feels good," I admitted, moaning softly and clenching my jaw.

"I've dreamt of this for so long; it's even better than in my dreams," he said, gripping onto my hips.

"You dreamed of this?" I asked him, confused, not knowing if he was being honest with what he was saying.

"Mhm," he simply hummed before lowering his free hand between our bodies to massage my clit. "You're mine now," he said in my ear, and my grip around his bicep tightened with the stimulation he was providing at that moment. His hip movements accelerated again, knotting my lower abdomen for the second time tonight. "Say it," he added in an authoritative tone.

"I'm yours, Chris," I said with the little strength I had left. My mind didn't know where to focus at that moment.

"Yes, and this pussy is mine too, Y/n," he said, moaning in my ear, driving me crazy. "I want you to cum again for me, princess," he said, accelerating his thrusts, yet still gentle and delicate.

My eyes rolled back, and my legs tightened around him. "Let go, princess," he said breathlessly. "Cum all over me." With his words, I threw my head back and started clenching around him. "Fuck, I can feel you clenching around me, baby," he said, burying his head in my neck, and I started to climax. I grabbed his hand, placing it over my mouth to muffle any noise, and shortly after, he climaxed too.

"Oh my god," I said before he let all his weight fall on me, moaning one last time.

"I never want to move from here," he said, smiling against my neck.

"You'll have to before my parents wake up," I said, chuckling. "It's already a miracle they didn't hear us," I said, running my hand through his hair.

He sat up and withdrew from me before tossing the condom into my trash bin. I sat up, covering myself with my blanket. "Will this happen again?" I asked him timidly, looking at him as he put on his boxers.

"Of course, it will, princess," he said, smiling, before sitting next to me and rubbing my thigh. "Can I stay a little longer?" he asked, locking his eyes with mine, and I nodded.

He settled next to me, pulling me close and gently running his hand over my curves. "Send me the exam tomorrow; I don't have class. I'll give you the answers," I told him, looking up at him.

"I thought this was bad, and good girls like you don't do these kinds of things," he said, chuckling and furrowing his brows.

"Good girls like me aren't supposed to sleep with bad boys like you," I replied, straddling him to be on top, and he sat up to kiss me.

"I told you I'd drive you crazy," he said, smiling against my lips.

Masterlist.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #ao3 fanfic #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo edit #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #ao3 #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #smut

[mangosrar]

call it what you want.

matt sturniolo x fem reader. enemies to lovers!!

WHEW YALL HEY. it’s been a while but i’m super excited to be back. love u ❤️‍🩹

warnings: suggestive. arguing

this will be multiple parts!!!!

pt2

"im not a child anymore! i cant move 2 inches without them being on my ass about something" you exclaimed as you paced up and down the living room.

nick sat on the couch, gawking at you as you ranted. you sighed before stopping and pointing a finger at nick.

"and you know what, they dont do this to my brother, nooo he can fuck all the girls he wants but i mention one guy im not even dating and suddenly im going off the rails" nick just stared at you with a questionable expression on his face.

you knew he wouldnt understand, his parents were so lenient, so the fact you were going on a 20 minute tangent about how strict yours were was completely futile and you may as well be speaking in a different language.

you dropped your hands and whined before stomping over to the couch and plopping down next to nick.

"i mean, how could i win nick? they want me to be happy but i wanna be happy with a hot boyfriend" you said as you turned your head to look at him, he just looked down at you with a sympathetic but mischievous look.

"im worried my advice is going to get you in trouble" he cringed. you pulled your head back and furrowed your eyebrows, encouraging him to continue.

"i mean... you need to rebel y/n, find someone whos completely foreign to them" you stared at him, thinking for a second.

it wasnt like you wanted to, but the fact that their heads would fall off if you found someone who was the complete opposite of your parents and their expectations, brought you a little bit of complete fucking joy.

it was like a lightbulb moment, your eyes widened, and a cheesy grin pulled at your lips as you practically leaped off of the couch and continued your pacing.

"i need someone who is all mean and mysterious, or maybe a guy who drives a motorbike or plays the drums" you rambled looking at nick for approval but being met with a flat expression on his face.

"seriously y/n?" he questioned.

"whatever im just brainstorming" you waved him off.

"whoever he is needs to be nonchalant, he needs to smoke and drink, maybe dabble in partying every now and again, he needs to have tattoos and long hair. i mean be honest, if you came home with a guy like that, i think your mom would drop dead" he explained, letting out a small laugh before leaning forward slightly.

and as if god himself was listening, matthew sturniolo appeared in the doorway, in all of his long haired and tattood glory, sipping on a can of root beer, watching you intently.

both you and nick snapped your head towards him as he stood there with a stoic expression.

"what do you want weirdo?" you asked, raising your eyebrows.

he squinted at you before sticking his hand out besides him in question.

"your in my house y/n. the real question is what do you want" he spat.

truth was you and matt had never gotten along. despite your decade long friendship with his brothers, there was always something about him that you couldnt stand and apparently matt felt the same way towards you, so the two of you started an unspoken hatred for each other one day and it has stood strong ever since.

neither of you were sure why it started, but matt always hated the way you thought you were better than everyone else, how you could never admit when you were in the wrong, or the way your scent stuck to everything so he could always smell you around the house, but mostly he hated the way his cock would jump when you looked up at him with those big doe eyes, even when you were spitting insults at him.

"i want you to stop listening to our conversation and get the fuck out of my face" you bit back, turning to face him and crossing your arms, keeping your hard stare fixed on him.

"please, you love it when i get in your face y/n. and you know what, have a little more compassion, your parents are wonderful people." he scoffed as he took a step towards you, keeping his eyes trained on yours. he was clearly trying to get under your skin, and it was working.

"they dont even like you matt, i wouldnt be so up their ass" you smiled sarcastically. he just laughed before taking another step towards you.

"and i cant stand their bitch of a daughter so were even" he spoke lowly, shooting daggers at you. there was a few seconds of silence where you and matt were just glaring at each other. wordlessly throwing insults and screaming at one another, before nick cleared his throat, causing the bubble around you both to pop.

you and matt turned to look at nick who was standing up from his seat on the couch, with an expression that you couldnt place. you could feel the heat radiating off of matt, in the midst of the bickering you hadnt realized how close he had gotten, you hadnt realized how good he smelt, or how him looking down at you like a disobedient child made you want to drop to your knees there and then.

nick opened his mouth to speak, his eyes jumping from you to his brother, who was stood not even a foot away.

"back to the topic at hand...why dont you date chris?" nick said like it was the most obvious option.

"you cant be serious..." matt trailed off, looking at his brother.

"no way nick, hes like my brother, plus my parents like him" you explained, ignoring matts comment, moving away from him and taking a seat back on the couch, folding your legs up underneath you.

"fake it, be in a fake relationship with him" you werent sure what planet nick was living on, but he was not helping in any way shape or form.

you just rubbed your hands over your face, groaning at the realization this was never going to work. there was a pregnant pause, all 3 of you, thinking completely different things, before matt broke the silence.

"ok so let me get this straight, you wanna piss off your parents, and show them your all grown up, by finding a guy in a biker gang..... as a scare tactic?" he asked, sending questioning looks between you and nick.

"not a biker gang matt" nick replied flatly, shaking his head at him.

"so just someone with tattoos, and long hair?" he spoke, placing his drink down on the coffee table and crossing his arms over his chest.

you shrugged and nodded your head at him. why was he so interested.

"so you just wanna use someone, to make your parents mad?" he furrowed his brows, desperately trying to get this right, but you were sure he was trying to make you feel bad so you didnt go through with it, just so you would stay miserable. or so you thought.

"call it what you want matt, i dont care what you think, this is none of your business" you spat.

you watched matts eyes wander from yours to his brothers who had been suspiciously silent. they were exchanging glances, like they were speaking some sort of wordless language, and it was concerning. usually, matt wouldve threw an insult back at you, but his expression didnt even waiver.

pulling your eyes away from matt, you turned to nick with a confused expression, and studdied his face, watching as his eyes lit up and he grinned, before turning to face you with a look in his eye that you couldnt decipher.

"before you say anything, just hear me out"

_______________________________________________

taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @chrisenthusiast @st4rswrld @soursturniolo @kvtie444 @mattslolita @flowerxbunnie @lovingsturniolo @its-jennarose @ermdontmindthisaccount @secret-sturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @justaslvttygirl @urfavstromboli @recklesssturniolo @delimeats-000 @gloomymatt @gwenlore @nickdevora @sturnioloenthusiast

#chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #mango talks #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #christmas #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #my stuff #sturniolo smut #smut #series. #fanfic #s #Spotify

[ew-selfish-art]

Demon Twin AU 

Tim Drake comes across a LOA manuscript detailing the sacrifice of a Demon Heir that’s dated around the time Damian is born and brings it to the cave. There’s no other mention of what went down, but it looks like Damian was a twin and the twin was thrown into the Lazaras Pits- Tim kind of forgets about it but shows it to Damian cause he figures that the guy deserves to know, and leaves it out for Bruce to see (basically the same thing as telling him). It doesn’t really change much but there is an obscured name in the corner so they can presume that the kid’s name would have been something starting with D A N. 

Well here’s the thing: Names carry power. Damian reaches out to John Constantine to ensure that the child is actually dead, because presumably John can do that. John wants to give the kid some closure, so he does what is supposed to be a super chill seance to an infant. He pricks Robin’s finger, chants a little and the air... turns violent.

Uh oh. Dan appears, unshackled from his prison in the Infinite Realms now that John has called upon them by someone with Familial blood. He cackles madly about the fact that it’ll be a good time to bring about the apocalypse again, promising to spare the bird for now, since he would have to get answers later. 

The alarms are blaring, the whole JL is hands on deck to try and stop Dan as he attacks across the globe. They’re saving as many civilian lives as possible but its getting very HAIRY in less than 2 hrs. Robin is out in the chaos, trying to track him down with John and Zatanna trying to recapture him and banish him back to the realms. 

Phantom touches down just as the three of them reach Dan- Danny has some choice words for his older alternate timeline self, including “This is why you have no friends.” and “Seriously, you didn’t even stop to say hi to my timeline’s Jazz this time.” and “Soup time for 1,000 years and then we can talk remediation.” 

After a short but brutal fight, Danny floats over to Damian, John and Z. After making sure they’re all right he’s like “Maybe you can never do that again? Also tell me how and why you did that so I can banish that spell?” And Damian explains that it was meant to ensure that the infant twin he never knew had passed peacefully and clearly that was not the case. Danny blinks a few times, uh, a twin?

Damian goes through the shit, John explains that it was a familial summoning meant to be an advanced seance (hence the lack of safe guards to keep the entity in) and Z confirms that there was nothing special to it beyond that. 

Danny then explains, that uh, “I guess my parents weren’t kidding when they told me I was adopted. Hi? I’m your brother. Uh, I go by Danny though. Dan was me in a different timeline and he’s normally under super strict lockdown.” 

#demon twin au #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #damian wayne #Sometimes an apocalypse is the best way to bring a family together #fuck dan tho #I cannot stand his redemption arcs lmao #Damian is like god damn i really could have been way more evil if thats my twin #Danny is super excited that his bio family are all heroes #Danny throws shade at constantine of course #Damian and Danny naturally bond from that point onwards because like hey #neither of us are as evil or bad as we could be #how dope is that? #danny and damian are twins

[hitomisuzuya]

Hiiii♡

Can I get Scummy scara with F!reader who has strict parents pls?👀

Love ur writing btw❤️🫶

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Scummy Scaramouche. Smut. Cunilligus. Fingersucking.

Hello there ❤️ Thank you so much.

When summer came, and classes concluded, everyone returned back to their homes. Which meant you lived under your parent's roof. Their roof, their rules.

They had the famous no boys after dark rule. Scaramouche being who he was had sneaking in through your bedroom window down to a fine art. He made not one single noise when he climbed through your window. He even shut it quietly.

That was all the courtesy he gave to the situation though.

Honestly, the thought of getting caught by your parents in the middle of the night being too loud from the pleasure his tongue or his cock was giving you as you tried to stifle your screams excited him.

Scaramouche's hands held your thighs apart, his thumbs skimming teasingly on your inner thighs. Your legs shook from the sensation of his tongue swirling around your clit. You clamped a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans, bucking your hips up into his mouth. Your clit throbbed when he latched his lips around it, his fingers tightening on your thighs as he held your cunt against his mouth.

You nearly bit the palm of your hand, the ball of his tongue piercing pressing on your clit. It was taking everything you had not to cry and beg for him to let you cum.

"Sluts who don't cry don't get to cum," Scaramouche purred, smirking up at you. He tapped his fingers on your inner thighs, continuing his assault on your clit with his tongue piercing.

Reaching up, he took your hand off your mouth. Scaramouche couldn't wait to see your expression, tearing welling in your eyes as you let out soft, pleasured whimpers. Seeing you fight to hold them back made him groan into your cunt, sweeping his tongue inside of you.

He swirled it between your walls, scraping his piercing along them. Your walls fluttered and clamped gummy around his tongue. The sob desperation you choked back sounded heavenly. It only made him more driven to make you cry for him.

Scaramouche grinded his throbbing cock against your mattress, swearing he would cum untouched just from good you tasted. "Don't you dare," He hissed, his hand reached to grab yours to prevent you from covering your mouth again. "I'll tie your hands above your head," He just might anyways.

Your eyes widened, and you felt wetter and somehow tighter on his tongue just from hearing him threaten to tie you up. "What a slut," He groaned, grinding against your mattress again.

You put your hand on the back of his head, pushing his mouth onto your cunt. Scaramouche's eyes rolled into the back of his head, holding your thighs apart as you attempted to close them around his head.

Scaramouche gave your clit a firm suck, making your back arch, your legs shaking as you rolled your hips up. He prodded his tongue piercing teasingly at your sopping hole before reluctantly sitting up.

He didn't wipe his mouth before he kissed you. He wanted you to taste yourself, his tongue dominating your mouth. He swallowed your moans, pushing his cock inside of you inch by inch.

Tears fell from your eyes. You whimpered when his cock slowly kissed against your sweet spot. Pulling out to the tip, he thrust back inside of you all at once. Scaramouche's teeth bit at your lower lip, feeling every throb of his cock between your walls.

You buried your face into his neck just in time to muffle your loud cry of pleasure. "That's it, let it all out," He purred, his hand stroking your hair as you nuzzled into his neck.

How firmly his cock was nudging into your sweet spot was starting to make you sob with pleasure. "You sound so sweet," He groaned, increasing his pace. You could feel how driven he was in his thrusts.

It was like he wanted you to wake your parents up.

It was getting harder and harder to hold them back, loud moans beginning to escape you as your orgasm started to tighten in your core. "Aww, is my precious girl gonna cum?" He taunted, his hips snapping into yours.

You nodded against his neck, writhing on the bed as you clung to him. God, what Scaramouche wouldn't give to see the looks on your parent's faces, his cock slamming inside of you, hearing you sob while you creamed on his cock.

"Cum for me, pretty girl," He groaned, snapping his hips into yours. How good his cock felt resting against your sweet spot made cum suddenly ribbon inside of your, his body shuddering with pleasure. "Fuck," He hissed loudly, "you are going to cum all over my cock like a whore, aren't you?"

"Mhm," You cried out into his neck, his degradation making you come undone. Scaramouche moaned huskily, feeling your release gush out on his cock.

Scaramouche slowly fucked you through your orgasm. He didn't stop pounding his cock into you until your whimpers and moans had quieted somewhat.

Pulling out of you, he scooped up some cum that leaked out onto his fingers. "Good girls don't waste a drop," He said, smirking as he pushed them into your mouth. "If only your parents could see what a submissive slut you are," He laughed as pumped his fingers in and out of your mouth.

He could've listened to you choke on them all night.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche #scummy scara #scaramouche smut #scaramouche imagines #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #modern au