#nobody ever fucking takes pictures of me

[lavender-femme]

something something lesbian pride flag hair

🪸men | minors | terfs | do not fucking interact 🪸

#please be nice 🥺 #these are from December when I got to model for a local salon #since a couple of you said you wanted to see the final look #i still haven’t opened the Dropbox with the actual photos #i’m scared to look #it’s a whole disconnect with my body #nobody ever fucking takes pictures of me #so when there are pictures … it’s like i’m seeing what i look like for the first time #and i already feel so detached from my physical body because of chronic pain… body image.. etc. #idk y’all it’s… something i’m working on #a lot of it came undone last year #anyway #please tell me nice things in the tags and replies #i didn’t get to wear my blue power suit… but I felt so powerful with the hair and the makeup done #my hair is totally faded now and i’m trying to figure out what i wanna do now #i’m talking #lavender.jpg #femme #lesbian #femme4butch #femme4stud #femme lesbian

[inkskinned]

so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.

this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.

somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.

i used betterhelp.

i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.

the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.

they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.

the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.

i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."

i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.

the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.

i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.

in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.

the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.

betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.

i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.

there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.

in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.

i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.

#writeblr #the book.... #coming soon #hey so if ur someone who has ever said “you need to write a book” #i wrote the book #it's ... probably the best thing ive ever written #this is maybe too honest lol #okay to reblog thank you for asking i love u i am in love with u our wedding will be in may

[luveline]

maybe hotch and reader are expecting a little bambino and nobody else knows until someone points out reader's belly? (i feel like it'd be absolutely hilarious if it was spencer that pointed it out 💀💀)

thank u for ur request! fem!pregnant!reader

"Can I ask you something?" Spencer asks.

You smile at him gently. "Always, Spence." 

He seems cagey despite your assurance, lowering his voice and stepping closer to you. "Do you think maybe you need more fibre in your diet?"

You've been friends, best friends, with Spencer for so long you genuinely can't remember a time in your life where you didn't love him, but you have no idea what to say to that. It's the weirdest thing he's ever said unprompted. That's saying something. 

"Is there… a reason that you're asking me?" 

"There's three," he says. He waits for you to nod before laying them out. "For a few weeks now you've been more tired than usual. You're hungry all the time, and your stomach is bloated. I know that can feel painful, you could eat a handful of chia seeds in the morning and it would help." 

You feel like someone's dropped an ice cube down the back of your t-shirt. Disarmed, you turn to Hotch where he's standing at the whiteboard, your hand moving automatically to your stomach. He gives you a similarly perturbed look. Derek's head shoots up at the list of symptoms, and Emily covers her mouth at your protective hand where it's poised. Fucking profilers.

"I've actually been taking vitamins," you say, wondering if you can still save it.  

Emily is the first to break. "Wait, are you–?" She doesn't let herself finish. 

Spencer shakes his head, brown curls bouncing at the base of his neck. "What?" he asks, his lips twisting into a trademark pout. 

"Spence," you murmur, taking his wrists into your hands. "I want you to know that I was going to tell you first. This weekend, genuinely. I didn't think you'd notice so soon, is all."  

He looks at Hotch, then you, then Hotch again. You press your lips together. "Please don't be upset," you say. 

It clicks. There and then, you witness the cogs turning. "You're pregnant?" he asks breathlessly. 

"On purpose," you joke. 

Spencer tackles you. His arms fly around your waist, a tight, brotherly squeeze of a hug that makes you feel like you're gonna burst. "You're kidding!" 

You're barraged by hugs. Emily, Derek, JJ. Rossi shakes Hotch's hand and pats his back in congratulations, which is so old-man style you find yourself laughing under JJ's arm. "How do you know it's his?" you ask Rossi. 

Hotch laughs as Derek moves in for a similar bro-hug, nothing but love in his eyes as he smiles at you from over Derek's shoulder. You smile back, amazed and ecstatic at their happy reactions, until Spencer forces JJ aside with more gusto than he likely should to hug you again. You're blinded by his wild hair. 

"I don't think you can fix this with a cup of chia seeds," Derek says. 

"We couldn't be happier," Hotch assures him. 

"On purpose, huh? When were you going to tell us?" Emily asks, her face a picture of surprise, a hint of disappointment in her thin brows. "I had no idea you wanted another one!" 

"Jack wants a brother," Hotch says. "You know she can't say no to him. And he's perfect–" 

"But there's nothing wrong with wanting more," Rossi finishes, his eyes gleaming. 

"I thought it might be a little awkward to emphasise that we were trying," you say, patting Spencer's shoulders. 

Emily winces. "Gotcha." 

"Let's see the bump, mama," Derek says. 

You step back from Spencer's side to turn, holding your shirt flat to the underside of your baby bump. It got bigger quicker than you thought it would, and now that it's been pointed out, it's obvious. 

Derek shakes his head in disbelief. "That's–" 

"Amazing," Hotch says. You beam at him. 

There's a second round of hugs. Delight thrums in the air like a charge, laughter buoyant. Hotch parts the sea of excitement to kiss your cheek and hug your shoulder proudly, turning his head away from everyone. You know what he's thinking —this is going to be a really special time for you both. Your team will make sure of it.

"Um?" Penelope asks, elbowing open the door with a weighty laptop in her hands. "Did I miss something?" 

Penelope, predictably, screams down the house at the presenting of your bump. Then she cries, and for a while you're all unashamedly teary-eyed. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[vaspider]

Look. A little advice.

Once you get to a certain amount of Known on the internet or a subsection of it, or even in a subsection of a RL group of people, there are going to be people who will make up a version of you which exists only in their heads and which has absolutely nothing to do with who you are. It might better resemble who you were twenty years ago or it might never have had anything to do at all with who you were then or are now.

You cannot stop this. You cannot prevent this. Once you get a certain number of followers or a certain amount of attention, that's going to happen: people will make up stories about you which either look through a fun-house mirror at some small aspect of who you are and twist it and blow it up until it doesn't resemble you at all, or which just have absolutely no basis in fact whatsoever.

This is just another kind of parasocial relationship; it's the kind which really sucks to deal with, because it's so negative and so pervasive. It's very real, and the frustration you feel about it is very real. Nobody wants to be known incorrectly.

But. You can't control this. It's gonna happen. No matter what you say, no matter how precisely you say it, the people who want to misinterpret you will find a way to do so. This doesn't mean 'don't pay attention to what you say,' or 'don't be purposeful and precise with your language,' but it does mean 'don't obsess over the people who are determined to get you wrong.'

You can be the most anodyne, run-of-the-mill, unremarkable human being, and the people who are determined to hate you will find something that they can point to and say 'ha ha! I told you that Spider danced with the devil at midnight! I witnessed it myself!' (It will not help the situation if you are, say, self-admittedly stubborn as fuck, long-winded, and sometimes kinda fucking obnoxious, but please realize that in the end, it doesn't really matter. This is gonna happen no matter what.)

The people who matter will look at what's being said, wrinkle up their foreheads, and say, 'uh, man, it looks like Spider was actually playing with his dog at 9 am?'

That said, if you don't have elephant-thick skin from being a marginalized-gender human being who's been on the internet since before the web had pictures, there are some things you can do to make it easier when people making things up about you starts to get on your nerves:

Establish protocols for when it becomes too much: have someone read your messages, turn off your notifications, have time where you purposefully disengage.

Establish protocols for how you interact, period: "I will block people without guilt if they engage positively with the people who spread untruths about me." "I will answer everything in public so people can't lie about what I said, because it's right there in public." "I will not answer work-related stuff in DMs, that has to go to the work email." Whatever it is, create some boundaries for yourself. Stick to them. The people who push you to bend them aren't doing that for your benefit but theirs.

If you get someone who really hits your Weirdo Alarm, trust it. Yeah, block and report, but also, take screenshots and store them somewhere that isn't easily erased. I have an 'Internet Weirdos' folder, which makes it a little easier to deal with when people start doing things like 'making threats of physical harm to me and my family.' Don't fuss, just take a screenshot and chuck it in the folder. Having that record makes it easier to just forget that it ever happened, because you have a paper trail if anybody starts doing something Real Weird.

Spend time offline, with people who do actually know you.

Don't get lost in the version of you that someone else makes up in order to make up for the shit that's missing in their own life. You aren't required to play the part that someone else is trying to script for you. It is never to your benefit, only to theirs; you gain nothing by standing in that role for them, and you lose precious seconds of your one irreplaceable life.

You could be using those seconds to look at this video of how to pick up a duck, which I think we can all agree is a better investment of your time.

#internet #Youtube

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"doing laundry and taxes with you" ft. the monster trio!

ft. (domestic!) luffy, zoro, sanji x fem!reader

in which, you make their house a home

(a/n: im sick and needed some comfort so this got very long im so sorry!!)

warnings: nsfw towards the end! nsfw stuff includes car-sex, in public, dirty talk, rough sex, penetration, squirting, sanji takes a picture of you choking on his dic- (ahem, not sorry); MDNI (thankyou very much okay byee)

luffy:

they are so precious to me 😭😭

- whatever you do, don't imagine domestic!luffy - don't imagine cold mornings when you're under the cover with him. he's holding you tightly, snuggling against you and whispering a soft, "good morning, baby" - do not imagine him coming back from home and holding you by your waist when you're doing something, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as you asks you how your day was - don't think of him as one of those guys who start a tickle fight when poke him once and laugh at him - absolutely do not imagine his as one of those s/o who are down to make everything into a game "whoever loses mario-kart makes the dinner, okay?" he grins, pulling you down onto the couch with him "oh really?" you laugh when he holds you tighter, "i really want some pasta tonight then" - he ended up making pasta that night - but as i said, don't imagine luffy as that because he is certainly that man and more - he will fret over you when you fall sick, trying to make you laugh your way out of a fever (canon). he won't leave your side, no matter how much you insist that you're fine "what do you need? water? soup? pizza- oh wait no that's unhealthy" a pause, "wait, do you want a pizza? it'll probably be fine if you eat one tbh, right??" - also the kind of guy who will ask his friends to turn their car around (because in no parallel universe do i believe luffy knows how to drive ffs) because you only said "love ya" and missed the i (how dare you, he's heartbroken now) "yn!!" he's yelling from the driveway, "YOU FORGOT TO SAY I LOVE YOU!!" so now you're sticking out your head out of your apartment window, looking down at a pouty luffy, annoyed zoro and unbothered sanji - also, man has TERRIBLE separation anxiety - (people now know that wherever you are invited, luffy is invited too "what are you doing here?" nami hisses as she vaguely looks at luffy, "this is supposed to be a girls night out!" luffy shrugs, "pretend im not even here" yeah, luffy that's kinda hard when you're practically draped over your girlfriend the entire night) - but as it's been established, don't fall for his perfect acts because he is the kind to park in a distant corner of a grocery store parking lot and beg for you to let him fuck you "it'll be quick," he's whining, tugging you towards himself and kissing you senseless, "baby, i promise. just one hit." - he's feral, holding you flush against himself as he fucked you with your top still on and your hands holding tightly against his neck - your arousal drips into his thigh and he's groaning about how good you feel, you feel him thrust into you harder and now you're spasming and cumming around his girth - he didn't infact let you go after one hit. - you both walked into the grocery store 37 mins later with your faces flushed, hair tousled and a familiarly uncomfortable wetness nesting between your thighs - (cause i know he's fucking nasty and he will absolutely make you walk into that store with his essence still inside you. sorry, i do not make the rules :/) - eitherways, best guy ever - he's the perfect s/o that never lets you have a dull moment in your life as long as his annoying ass is around

zoro:

- i will stand by what i've always said. soft zoro is the best zoro. 'nuff said, i will die on this hill. - but god, nobody can ever imagine how soft domestic!zoro is with you by the way he shrugs and grunts off any and all people around him (except for his crew) - frankly speaking, you didn't expect this either when you started dating him - you would have never imagined this green-haired, stoic-faced, dry-ass motherfucker to hold onto you tightly and lightly close his eyes whenever you forced him to see another horror movie - he claimed watching horror movies was the equivalent of mind torture but followed along cause you seem to like them (you don't probably like them that much, you just like his heavy figure against yours as he snuggles in deeper and deeper against you) "this is so stupid" he hisses at the girl in the screen, groaning when she blatantly ignores him, "she will die if she follows the fucking voice!!" you don't fail to notice how shrill his deep voice can get whenever there's a jumpscare (but he will blame the wind for that noise, never admits what he knows is true) - he is so soft in the way he offers to shampoo your hair when you drag him into the shower. his calloused fingers are light, gentle, against your scalp and you can't help but smile when he flashes you a small smile and asks if it's fine - domestic!zoro is so soft in the way he would carry you bridal-style/on his back everywhere (wdym you only had to go to the kitchen?? he can carry you there, he's strong, do you not believe him?) - also, we all have sorta established that he's not a pda guy but my lord, behind those four walls, he needs to be around you one way or the other - doesn't matter if he is just standing at the bathroom door, making small talk as you do your skincare for the night or he's holding onto your hand as you both lay sprawled on your bed, looking at your phones - but don't let his softness make you forget that this man is a piece of shit. - he will purposely stand in front of cabinets and cupboards when you cook and flash you a innocent smile when you get annoyed; he will finish your favourite conditioner even though he said "i don't that conditioner too much"; he will purposely order you random stuff online and everytime you'd open it thinking it's something cute but it'll end up being something green and (cutely) stupid - (you now possess 5 mushroom figurines, 12 frogs doing random shit, a green cheap light saber, a lowkey-fucked up painting of baby yoda and green paper-clips. he doesn't even like green all that much, he just loves to annoy you) - but as i said, don't fall for his sweet facade because he will stop you at the door and fuck you against it before you're heading out in that skimpy dress (yes, he fucks you in that dress) (ofcourse he doesn't mind your dress riding up as long as people can see the marks he left on your body) "ah" he groans, thrusting upwards as one of his hands hold you firm against the door and another plays with your swollen clit, "sorry for ruinin' your makeup, baby. but look at you, you look so pretty, getting fucked right now" - he's sure the neighbours can hear the wood creaking against your weights and your high-pitched, feverish moans as you beg him to fuck you harder (it's the fourth time this month) - he forces his fingers (which were slick with your arousal) down your mouth and watches as his fingers rub away the lipstick into modern art "much better" he would sigh against your skin when he was done, "have fun at the party, babe" - he holds back a laugh cause he knows you can barely walk, much less party (not to mention, you gotta re-do your makeup now.) - so he goes with you, lending you his arm as support so that you wouldn't walk so wobbly "that dress still looks too good on you" he will whisper against your ear, "meet me in the bathroom in five, let me fuck you again" - as much as he is a menace, you wouldn't have it any other way - god, iamsodownbad for him <3

sanji:

it's him officer, he is the one who altered my brain chemistry!

- vinsmoke sanji is the perfect pinterest boyfriend. argue with the wall, i don't entertain wrong views. - what i mean is, he is the boyfriend/husband who will be up to bake a cake at 3 in the morning and eat it with you as the sun rises, he is the one who will hold you hand and groggily lead you to an ice-cream vendor at 1 in the night because you really wanted ice-cream, he is the one to take a thousand photos in any outfit you wear "yn" he's changing his angles every second, shutter of the camera snapping photo after photo, "you look so beautiful, so marvelous, charming, ah- mesmerizing, my love!" - he is the guy to hold your hand in a horror house no matter how scared he himself is. but you call tell by the way his fingers tightly close around yours whenever a jump-scare comes on (no, he is not being strong because he wants to look tough in front of zoro, tf you talking about??) - he is the man who will be looking for halloween decor on the first of september and christmas decor on the first of novemeber, takes the task of decorating his house very seriously (yes, he will out-do linda this time! so what if she bought a life-sized snowman?? he will pay luffy to become one, fuck linda.) - sanji is the guy that posts his girlfriend religiously (at one point, ussop asked you if you were holding him on gun-point and making him post you so much) - by religiously i mean for every one photo of himself, there's six of you like baby calm down nobody's gonna take her away - he also surprises you a lot (with nice surprises, unlike zoro.); he bought you a candle on your one-month anniversary and repurchases it every time you run through it - grocery store runs followed by cooking together is basically your idea of a weekly date - very on-brand with his theme but he has so many candids of you (a whole secret album with the title "my love <3"). there's pictures of you laughing at chopper's new onesie, hitting luffy in the face after he stole your sushi, tasting his cookies, tasting his dic- ahem. - it shouldn't come as any surprise that he has a huge thing for clicking pictures/ taking videos of you as he abuses your body in a way that has you crying for god "san-" "like that, moan out my fuckin' name, darling. tell me who's fucking you like this?" "you" you moan harder, eyes clamping shut, "you you, fucc-k you, sanji" - there's a video on his phone of his dick sliding in and out of your wet cunt as you moan and suck on your bottom lip; there's pictures of you sucking on his dick, giving the camera your prettiest doe-eyed look; there's a video of you squirting around his fingers, face red and body soaked as he keeps going and you're cumming a second, third, fourth time (that's his favourite video, it's insane how many times he comes back to that video) - he loves ruining you with slow sex as he makes you focus on the boring movie or show you're both watching - he gets off off how you try to maintain your composure but then come undone "yn, my love" he rasps in your ear, "come on, keep holding on for me. i'm gonna fuck you so well if you just keep taking me like this." - he ruins you and then gets you the best aftercare - ugh stan sanji for a good life.

a/n: the way i write sanji has me confused as to if i truly am a zoro girlie lmaoo. hope you liked it!! req are always open (also im sorry to the people who requested and i havent gotten around to it, i am just running low on fuel lately)

#one piece #one piece x reader #zoro #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #opla #op #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #zoro smut #luffy smut #sanji smut #zoro x reader smut #sanji x reader smut #luffy x reader smut #one piece x reader smut #one piece smut #one piece fanfiction #one piece imagines #one piece fanfic #one piece fluff #one piece headcanons #one piece x you

[vivwritesfics]

"I Know"

Peter Parker has the best girlfriend ever

1.1K

Peter Parker x Reader

I've been MIA for the longest time because the inspo just hasn't been there. But I've gotten away from university for a few days, and this is what came from my peaceful time alone

"I'm so sorry, baby," said Peter. He stood on top of a building, watching a bank robbery happening opposite. A bag full of snacks and two pairs of his favourite pyjamas lay discarded beside him, and Peter made a mental note to pick it up later. The wind was biting, but Peter didn’t care. His attention was split evenly between his girlfriend and the bank robbery.

This was not the first time he had flaked on date night, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. He and his girlfriend both knew. But Peter Parker had the most understanding girlfriend in the world.

"It's okay, Pete," she said. Peter could picture her now, snuggled up in her bed, waiting to change into a pair of his pyjamas, with her snack basket filled and her laptop loaded up with a Christmas movie. "Go... save the world."

It wasn't quite saving the world, but she made Peter smile. She always made Peter smile. Y/N was the most understanding person in the world. "I'll be at yours as soon as I can. Don't open the chocolate without me."

After that, Peter had no choice but to hang up. The bank robbery had started to wrap up and Peter had to stop them. He put his phone in his bag, pulled his mask over his face, and swung down to the bank. "You guys have ruined my date night."

“What the fuck?” One of the bank robbers dropped his white bag filled with green notes and swung a bat at Peter.

It was cartoon-y, how these robbers were behaving. The white bags, the notes flying all over the place. Their ski masks weren’t masks at all, but unfolded beanies with the eyeholes cut out. “Wait, can I get a picture? My girlfriend is going to love this.”

***

Y/N’s family loved Peter. Somehow, he’d never been late to dinner with her parents. Either criminals decided to take the day off, to let Peter have his dinner, or for once somebody else was cleaning up the city in his stead.

But not tonight.

“I’ll be maybe ten minutes late,” he said as he swung through the city. His suit was discarded, but his tie was still around his neck.

Y/N had her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she put in a pair of earrings. Dinners like these were a big deal to her parents. The whole family dressed up fancy, all of her sibling’s partners were invited and they had at least three courses. “Pete, babe, it’s fine. I’ll cover you.” And, as she said it, she didn’t sound disappointed at all.

Peter really had the best girlfriend in the world. “Holy shit, I love you,” he said, only just noticing his tie. But it was too late to remove it now. “Please send me the cover story.”

They said their goodbyes (with Y/N begging him to stay safe) and went to do their things. Peter fought the bad guy, managing to keep his rather expensive tie intact. Y/N finished getting dressed for dinner and went downstairs to greet her parents.

Her siblings and their partners were already downstairs, drinks in their hands.

“There she is!” Called her brother as Y/N stepped into the room. He checked his watch and feigned a frown. “Not like that boyfriend of yours to be late, is it?”

With her hands clasped behind her back, Y/N rocked on her heels. “Actually, Peters gonna be late today,” she said, hoping they weren’t going to ask anymore questions.

“That Parker boy is never late,” her father said, “What’s holding him up?”

Before now, Y/N hadn’t thought of an excuse for Peter. She had just hoped they wouldn’t ask, and then he could’ve come up with his own backstory. (Peter had gotten good at that).

“Uhh…His house… caught fire? And his aunt… is in the hospital… with death?” oh yeah no this was not going well. “Oh! And the tire on his bike popped.”

Yes. That was very believable.

But nobody questioned it as Y/N sat beside her sister and her sister’s girlfriend. “He’ll be here soon.”

Her eyes shifted to the floor, which only made everything more believable. She pulled out her phone and sent Peter the cover story, just seconds before the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” She shouted, jumping up.

Racing to the front door, Y/N pulled it open to see Peter stood there, still sorting out his suit. “You are so lucky nobody else answered the door,” she said and buttoned up his shirt correctly. “I sent you over the cover story,” she whispered and kissed his cheek.

Pulling him into the house, Y/N pushed him towards her father. “Hello, Mr L/N! Sorry, I’m late, my tire burst.”

Suddenly, Y/N’s mother came running out of the kitchen. “Peter, my dear!” She shouted and pulled him in for a hug. “I’m so sorry to hear about May and your house. You can stay here for as long as you need!” She cried, running her fingers through her hair. He looked at Y/N with her brows furrowed. ‘Go with it’, she mimed. “How about we all go and visit May as soon as we’re finished with dinner?”

“Oh! Please, Mrs L/N. That’s not necessary.” Peter pulled away from his girlfriend’s mother and grabbed Y/N’s hand. “Can I have a word with you upstairs?” He asked her, and Y/N allowed herself to be pulled up to her bedroom.

As soon as the door was shut Y/N was wrapped around him. “I missed you,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Missed me so much you told your family that May was in the hospital?”

“And that your house burnt down,” she said quietly, laying her head on his chest. “I know I said I’d cover for you, but I’m not very good at it, Pete.” Her arms snaked around his middle, sitting beneath his blazer.

Peter’s phone suddenly buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned once he looked at it. “Oh god, what is it?” Asked Y/N, looking up at Peter with wide eyes.

“Baby, I love you but, I’ve got to go. I swear this’ll-”

“It’s okay, Peter, I know.”

Peter kissed her. It was slow, yet oh so intense. One of those kisses that makes you gasp. “I have the best girlfriend in the world.”

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x female reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker smut #tasm!peter parker x reader smut #andrew garfield #andrew garfield imagine #spider-man #the amazing spider man

[luvjunie]

Hey sweetie, I’ve been a real big fan. Can you write some HCS or a fic about the both Miles being twins?

a/n: ABSOLUTELY 10000% YES. i had way too much fun with this oml. and omg thank you you’re so sweet! 😭 btw, let’s just pretend that in this au they don’t have the same name since they’re ‘twins’ lmao

— headcanons. miles and miles as twins

Twins? Yes. Polar opposites? Definitely.

They both have a completely different sense of style, but one thing they have in common is that they both love Jordan’s. However I feel like miles!42 is a full blown sneakerhead. Has the better collection and often finds miles!1610 wearing his shoes, because somehow 42 always manages to win the snkrs raffles.

“Are those my brand new fuckin’ 4s?” “Uh… no?” “Take my shit off before I tweak out.”

42 keeps his side of the room squeaky clean, gets upset if there’s even a sock that does not belong to him on his side

Absolutely hates the song Sunflower. Cannot stand it, makes him wanna rip his hair out. The minute it came out 1610 played it into the dirt and 42 swears he can still hear it in his dreams till this day

1610 is the more affectionate one (outwardly) while 42 likes to pretend he’s completely devoid of that as if he doesn’t love his brother with everything in him.

“You got exactly three seconds to get off me.” “Just hug me back, damn!”

They’re the kind of brothers to open soundcloud, turn on a random trap beat and see who can go the longest freestyling. They do that thing where guys bring their fist to their mouths and squeal and shove each other out of excitement when they get a good flow going back and forth

42 is definitely the athletic type, plays football and soccer. 1610 is more in tune with his artistic side. Will play sports for fun but doesn’t care for them like that

42 is introverted as hell, doesn’t really like talking to people. 1610 is more of a social butterfly

They’ve never once liked the same girl. Ever. Their taste is drastically different

“Bro, you like a white girl?” “…Yes? What does her race have to do with anything?” “See me personally—“. “Literally nobody fucking asked.”

Used to help each other break out of their cribs when they were babies. Either that or Jeff and Rio would wake up to find that 42 had climbed into 1610’s crib after they’d been put down and slept with him instead. it was impossible to keep them apart from each other, so eventually they just broke down the second crib and let them use the one.

You can tell who is who in their baby pictures. You guessed it, 42 was the oddly solemn one who always wanted to play by himself. They worried about him for a bit. They also had to tickle him as an attempt to get him to smile in pictures, and just their luck, he’s never been ticklish

When they were eight years old, 1610 accidentally broke the wolverine action figure 42 never went anywhere without, and 42 cried about it for three days straight

They definitely ask for each other’s opinions on their outfits

“Do you think this shirt goes with these pants?” “The entire outfit is black… how would it not go together?”

They both obviously love their mother but 42 is the biggest mama’s boy. Always in the kitchen helping her cook, will watch her telenovelas with her and actually keep up with the plot. He’ll willingly follow her to the grocery store or accompany her on her ridiculously long Ross/Tjmaxx sprees because he likes hanging out with her

They terrorize the fuck outta their dad and have been doing so since they entered this world because they think it’s funny. Stupid shit like dying his boxers pink, or looking up a cracked tv screen video on youtube just to watch him nearly have a heart attack thinking they broke it. They used to twin-swap when they were younger to get out of certain things, but it’s 100% impossible to pull off now. They’re way too different, physically and mentally

Uncle Aaron took 42 to get his ears pierced when he was thirteen, something 1610 would never do. Rio basically had an aneurysm when he came home with them in and Jeff was not pleased but Aaron took the blame for it, said it was his idea. 42 made up some bullshit lie about how if he takes them out before they heal completely they’ll get infected. Still has them in till this day

42 is exactly fourteen minutes older and refuses to let 1610 hear the end of it, but 1610 is taller by an inch and weighs a little more.

“I don’t know why you’re talking shit like I’m not older than you. Pipe down lil’ bro.” “Sorry, is someone talking to me right now? Cause I sure as hell can’t see ‘em.” “Nigga it’s ONE INCH”

They’re definitely scrapping over that, and both get smacked upside their heads by Mama Rio for fighting with each other

42 needs the tv and the fan on, SIMULTANEOUSLY when he sleeps or he’ll be up the entire night. 1610 can’t stand it

1610 will try and turn the fan off after his brother’s been asleep for probably two hours, thinking he’s in the clear until he hears—

“Do you value your life? Turn my damn fan back on.”

Deep down 42 is a big ass softie and loves spending time with 1610, he has no idea what he’d do without him. He’s just not the best at expressing it. 1610 teases him about it simply because he enjoys aggravating his other half

“You still got plans with Ganke tonight?” “Nah, his mom’s dragging him to some baby shower.” “Oh, cool, cool… So what movie are we watching?” “Huh?” “Huh—Headass. What movie are we watching tonight?” “Sorry, I’m not understanding. Are you—asking to spend time… with me?” “Damn, I need to say it in Spanish? Matter fact, you probably won’t understand that either. No sabo ass.”

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡ #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales prowler #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales headcanons #across the spiderverse headcanons #spiderman astv

[sykostyles]

subject to change 1.1 (final)

w/c: 6.3k summary: in which Harry gets his head out of his ass and goes after y/n. but is he too late? part one

a/n: hi again! thank you all for the love on part one to this story! I can’t even begin to tell you how much it means to me! I hope you all enjoy this part just as much!

cw: PLEASE LOOK HERE BEFORE YOU READ! impact play, breath play if you squint, general rough sex, implied cheating (no actual cheating takes place), breeding kink, creampie, anal play (he puts his thumb in her ass lol), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up, besties) general manhandling. If I forgot anything pls let me know!

Harry did care. He cared a lot. But he knew you were angry and he let you go. It was the best option. At least that’s what he told himself. He would just live the rest of his life with this empty feeling in his chest. He’d live with the pain of constantly having to see your name when his customers would buy your books. He’d smile and continue to recommend your books to people looking for something ‘extra spicy’ as they’d put it. They’d always come back in a few days to get another one of your books.

He never did take your titles off of his Owner’s Picks shelf.

Sometimes Harry swore he could hear your giggles at the front of his store when he was helping a customer find something near the back. “Excuse me, just one second,” he’d mutter to the customer before hastily making his way up front to be met with nobody. He thought he was losing it. He knows he heard it. He wishes he’d heard it. He’d make his way back to the customer, breathing out some excuse and getting back to finding the book they were looking for.

You even haunted him in his dreams. He could feel the way your skin dipped and curved as he ran his hands over the sweat slicked skin. Feel the way your warm walls engulfed his length; sinking further and further under your spell. Hear the way you cried his honorific and begged him to let you cum; begged for more, Until the blaring of his alarm would snap him back to reality and he’d be left to take care of what dream you left behind.

It’d been six months of this constant brooding attitude he’d have whenever he thought of you. Harry hadn’t been able to sleep with anybody else. Just finding solace in fucking his fist, and wishing it was you. Oh but he tried though. A few women at the bar, or a pretty customer he thought looked like you. But they weren’t you, were they? He’d gotten drunk off of the way your body felt under his touch, and it’s like he’s been hungover ever since. Often he found himself looking at your social media, scrolling through all the pretty pictures you’d post. Pictures of your apartment, your cat, your family. Pictures with Chase? Who was Chase? Pictures with your friends. He’d take note of all the cities you’d been to since he saw you.

Oh, a new post.

You were apparently going to be about an hour away from him next week.

Interesting.

Every city you traveled to, there were more and more people waiting to meet you. You couldn’t believe it. Flattered doesn’t even begin to describe what you felt. So many stories of how you saved people's relationships after they read your books. Their sex lives with their partners had been so boring but after they’d read your books, they’d found new inspiration to spice things up. Every time someone told you a new story you were dumbfounded. Still finding it so hard to believe that anybody even found your books interesting, let alone liked them enough to take time out of their day to come and meet you and have you sign their book.

You’d tried to move on from Harry. A few casual hook ups, and a short term boyfriend, Chase, that lasted all of two and a half months. Said boyfriend looked at you like you had two heads when you asked him to choke you during sex so you weren’t sure why you thought it would last. 

You would find yourself daydreaming; frothing at the mouth thinking of all the dirty things Harry had done to you. You’d grip the front of your sink in the morning, head hanging near your chest while you thought about Harry’s cock splitting you open; his fingertips colliding with your cheek while he called you his dirty little slut, all while Chase was in the shower, a wave of guilt washing over you for imagining these things while your boyfriend was two feet away from you. Oh, how you wished you could experience those things again. 

You were right though, you’d gotten plenty of fuel for your next book. The follow up to Little Freak was scheduled to be released at the end of the year, just in time for holiday sales. Jenny was thrilled. You thought you would be. But you just felt empty. You always felt worse when you’d snap out of it, staring at yourself in the mirror with annoyance for yourself written all over your face.

“You look sick, babe. You alright?” Chase would ask, stepping out of the shower. “You look a little flushed,” The back of his hand coming in contact with your forehead. He was super sweet after all. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Just warm in here from the steam,” you’d wave him off, pressing a kiss to his lips and offering him a smile.

Chase broke it off with you last week saying he couldn't give you what you wanted. You knew that, but didn't have the heart to break it to him first. He seemed a little fragile, if you know what I mean. So you pretended to be sad until he left your apartment and then you had a laugh before making a post announcing the next city for your signing tour.

Jenny booked you a hotel, even though the bookstore you were going to be at was only about an hour away. But riding back in the car for an hour sounded pretty awful so you didn’t put up a fight. 

The owner of this store was so excited for your event. She walked up and down the line thanking everyone for showing up, and reminded all of them of the snacks and refreshments she’d set out. She was a doll, continuously asking if you needed anything. Always giving you a smile and a “Just holler at me if you need anything, dear!”

About an hour in, a pair of eyes caught your attention. You’d know those eyes anywhere. He was about four people behind the person you were talking to. Standing there, book in hand with that sweet smile on his face. His eyes bore into yours. Your breath caught in your throat, your face turned pink and your hands immediately felt clammy. The person in front of you snaps you out of your trance and you direct your attention back to them, acting as if nothing happened. 

“This book literally brought life back to my relationship. We had no idea what we were missing out on!” She exclaimed, “My husband sends his thanks as well,” she giggles out.

“I’m so glad you guys enjoyed it. Hopefully you’ll like the next one too. Thank you so much for coming!” You hand the book back to her with a smile. She thanks you and is on her way. The next few people are the same. It never got old though; hearing how your books positively impacted others. Whether they found out they liked something they never heard of, or if it gave them the courage to spice up their love lives. 

Harry studied you as you interacted with your readers. How genuinely happy you looked to be talking to these people. The smile on your face that he’d only seen in his dreams over the last six months. The crinkle you got near your eyes when you laughed. That giggle. He was addicted. He needed to hear it every day. He’d do anything. That’s why he’s standing here right now in front of you with your book in his hand. 

“Hi,” he says softly.

“Hi,” you say back to him. “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he hands the book over to you, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Cut the crap, Harry. What are you doing here?” taking the book, you scrawl your signature on the cover page.

“Can we talk?” he looks at you with pleading eyes. You glance up at him, holding the book back out to him. 

“I don’t know, Harry,” looking away, you fumble with the permanent marker between your fingers. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please, sweets. Just wanna talk,” He smiles down at you. Meeting his eyes again, your gaze hardens. There’s no way he just wants to talk. You’re not totally stupid, but you’ll humor him.

“Fine. Just to talk,” you wave your hand in the air, “Just wait in the seating area.”

He smiles at you again. “Thank you.”

Walking into your hotel room with Harry in tow, you wonder just how stupid you are. What are you doing? Is this smart? Probably not. Do you care? Also probably not.

“What are you actually doing here, Harry,” you ask, sitting on the end of the bed to take your shoes off.

“Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?” his voice was quiet and smooth, nothing like it was in the bookstore earlier. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets as he watches you.

“Not even a little bit,” you scoffed with a laugh, tossing your shoes to the side before leaning back on your hands.

“Well, it’s the truth.” His gaze remained unwavering. 

You were born at night, but not last night.

“You’re such a liar,” you laugh, “You’re going to stand there and tell me that you drove an hour just to see me?” 

“I missed you.” he breathes out. You just stare at him with widened eyes, and he stares right back. Emerald eyes, rather sunken and tired looking, just keep staring back at you.

“How dare you,” you stand from the edge of the bed, finger pointed into his chest. His eyes widen at your demeanor. “You don’t get to do that. You said this was a one time thing. You told me multiple times that it was a one time thing.” You continue walking towards him, him taking a step back with every forward step you take. “So, what exactly do you want, Harry? You came all the way here just to tell me you missed me? When was it you who put that rule in place?” His back hits your hotel room door. “Am i just a good fuck you can’t get out of your head or what?”

“N-no, you’re,” he pauses, “you’re everything. And I’m just an idiot who can’t talk about his feelings.”

“Please, you told me yourself that you don’t do ‘feelings’. So do me a favor and tell me what it is you really want.”

“I want you,” he says softly, looking at your lips. Not even an ounce of hesitation floods his system when he reaches out with both hands to cup your face, and finally presses his lips to yours for the first time. You gasp, but kiss him back anyways; Your hands finding a soft grip on his wrists. It’s everything. The way his soft lips perfectly mold with yours. All of the built up emotions he’d been shoving down the last half a year showed themselves in that kiss. He bore his soul to you in that kiss. His tongue swipes at your lower lip, but that’s when you pull away.

“No, Harry,” you rush out, “Y-you’re too late,” you pull his hands from your face, and start to turn away when he grabs ahold of your upper arm, spinning you back towards him.

“Oh, don’t give me that shit,” he bites out, tone no longer soft. “I saw the look on your face when you noticed I was there tonight.” 

“I-I have a boyfriend,” you lie, thinking you could use Chase as an escape route. Sure, he broke up with you about a week ago but Harry doesn’t need to know that. “You’re too late, Harry.” He studies you for a moment. The tremble in your upper lip from fighting off a grin. The telling glint in your eyes. The way you won’t look him in the eye.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?” Both of his hands grip your arms as he slowly walks you backwards.

“I’m n-not lying. I have a boyfriend. His name is Chase.” You almost stumble over your own feet, but his grip on your arms keeps you standing. Ah, Chase.

“Right,” he mocks you, “and does ‘Chase’ make you tremble and break like I did?” He leans down near your ear. “Does he make you beg and cry for it like I did? Does he make you cum so hard you see stars like I did? Hm?” His warm breath tickles the skin of your throat. Harry sweeps your hair away from your neck before latching his teeth onto your pulse point, making you gasp. You feel your legs bump against the edge of the bed, your fists take hold of his sweater to keep you standing.

“Harry, I can’t,” you groan. You want to; more than anything, but you won’t give him the satisfaction. He grins against your skin, swiping his tongue over the bite mark he left behind. 

“Your body says otherwise, sweets,” he says, bringing his face to be level with yours, “Tell me to stop,” he slips a hand under your skirt, teasing his fingertips along your inner thigh. Your breath is caught in your throat. “C’mon, tell me to stop,” he plucks the hem of your underwear right near where you want him most. His lips finding your skin again; featherlight kisses being pressed up and down the column of your throat. You tilt your head back to give him more room.

“H-harry, please,” you whine, your hands reach up to grasp the nape of his neck.

“Please what?” he whispers against your throat, biting down again, eliciting a groan from your lips. 

“P-please, t-touch me.”

“Thought you said you had a boyfriend?” He grins, tilting your chin down to look into your eyes. The hand that’s been under your skirt takes hold of the front of your panties and pulls you forward, making you lose your footing and sending you backwards onto the bed. Harry presses one knee onto the mattress, fingers still holding your panties, as he leans over you.

“T-that’s su–subject to change,”  you try to pull him down by the nape of his neck to kiss him again, but he doesn’t budge, one arm anchored near your head.

Instead, with a flick of his wrist he’s pulling your panties down your legs. Bringing them up to eye level, he smirks at the wet patch evident on the front of them.

“Is it now?” His salacious eyes look at you from above. You nod in response, making Harry chuckle. “So, are you going to admit that you were lying to me?” He tosses your panties to the side before bracing his other arm on the other side of you.

You shake your head, a mischievous smile forming on your pouty lips. You run your hands under his sweater up his torso, relishing in the warm feeling under your fingertips. He never let you touch him last time, but he wasn’t about to stop you now. He’d die a happy man after knowing what your skin felt like against his. The way your body reacted to every little touch he offered. Sure, he felt you last time, but not like this.

“You’re just going to make it worse for yourself, sweets,” Harry grins down at you.

“Maybe that’s what I want,” your hands stop their exploration and cup the sides of his face, your thumbs rubbing over his cheekbones. “I do have a boyfriend, but he’s not you,” you whisper. Knowing that Chase isn’t your boyfriend anymore.

“Such a naughty girl,” He leans down to kiss you, your hold moving up and tangling in his curls. You moan into his mouth when you feel the tips of his fingers come in contact with your cunt; he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny he could find before he pulls away, chuckling at your blown out pupils. “Does Chase take care of you like I did?”

“N-no,” a whine leaves you at the loss of contact, “He won’t even choke me,” you pull him back down to your mouth, hooking your right leg around his waist to bring his weight on top of yours.

He pulls away—“Sounds like a pussy”—before kissing you once again. Lips moving in sync; your whines and whimpers being stolen from you by the greedy man above you. His fingers finally make contact with where you need him most; dipping two inside your warmth to prod at the spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back.

“Haah, you have—ff—fuck, r-right there—no idea.” Your skin already feels like it’s on fire. Your body reacts to his every touch; craving more and more at every turn. Harry would give you anything you wanted if you’d asked for it.

“Mm, you probably feel so needy right now, huh?” he chuckles, bringing his free hand up to firmly grasp your throat. The mischievous glint forming in your eyes again, his favorite smile etched onto your lips. He finally put your favorite necklace back in its rightful place. 

“Uhuh, please. Need you so bad,” His thumb begins rubbing slow circles on your clit; your teeth take hold of your bottom lip as you look at him with blown out eyes, silently begging for more. 

“Yeah?” He’s enthralled by your eagerness. The most genuine smile he’s ever been able to muster forms on his lips. You’ve successfully turned this man into mush without even trying. He’d burn the whole world down for you if it meant you’d look at him like that. “Gonna let me take care of you?” 

You nod. 

“Forever this time?” he’s searching your eyes for any ounce of hesitation. Every feeling he ever felt for you shined bright in the emerald orbs before you.

You smile. 

Big.

“Y-yes, Sir,” leaves your lips in the form of a salacious whisper.

“I can be Sir any other time, I just want to be Harry for you right now, sweets,” he retracts his hand from between your legs, bringing it to face level. His eyes never leave yours as he swipes his tongue over his fingers, licking up every ounce of your arousal; his other hand never leaving your throat, rubbing his thumb over your pulse point. Your mouth waters at the sight. He’s so dirty; and you love it. 

You nod frantically in his hold. “H-Harry please,” you’re not sure what you’re asking for, you just want him.

“Gonna give you what you want–what you need–baby,” he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before taking a hold of your hip with his free hand and flipping the two of you over so you were straddling his waist. Sliding his hand that’s around your throat to the nape of your neck to kiss you deeply. He sits up with you, bringing his hands down to the hem of your shirt, sliding his warm hands over the expanse of your hips, trailing up to grope your breasts; his lips still moving perfectly in sync with yours. “C-can i take this off?”

“Please,” a whine leaves your lips. Your arms raise up as he slides your shirt over your head, tossing it to the side. He eyes your chest; placing kisses all over. Reaching behind you, unclasping your bra as it finds the same fate as your shirt. His mouth latches on to your left breast, rolling his tongue over the perked bud. You throw your head back, arms draped around his neck as you grind your bare cunt into his very evident bulge; reveling in the friction against your clit.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to lose my shit,” he growls, taking your other breast into his mouth.

“Do your worst,” you whisper into his ear, sliding your hands under his sweater, pulling it over his head to join the other pieces of clothing on the floor. You stand from his lap before he’s able to react. Slipping your fingers into the waistband of your skirt, you shimmy it down your hips and thighs, giving him a little show. He watches on with lustful eyes. 

He reaches for his belt, pulling it from the loops of his jeans. “You gonna tie me up again, Harry? Hm?” you tease him, opening the button of his jeans.

“No, baby. Wanna feel your hands all over me this time,” he tosses the belt to the side, standing from the bed, he cups the sides of your face, pulling you to him once again. Your hands still working his zipper, pushing his jeans down.

“Then allow me,” you whisper. Reaching to pull his hands from your face, dropping them to his sides. Slowly sinking to your knees, placing open mouthed kisses to his skin as you traveled south. You feel his abdomen contract at the light touch, making you smirk against his skin before swiping your tongue over the surface, making the man above you audibly whimper.

“D-don’t tease, sweets.” 

You chuckle, pulling his jeans all the way down, he kicks them to the side. Harry slides his boxers off, not wanting to waste anymore time, much to your dismay. You roll your eyes, but your attitude disappears once his cock springs up and you catch a glimpse of his reddened tip, just begging for your attention. 

“Sit,” you whisper, running your fingertips up his legs, tracing over the tiger tattoo on his thigh; placing a kiss on its nose after he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Anything you want, baby,” he reaches to cradle your face, but you dodge his reach. He looks at you quizzically.

“No touching,” rolls off your tongue. You watch his eyes darken as that famous smile forms.

“Oh, you want to play like that?” he leans back on his hands, as you nod. Your hands wrapping around the base of his cock, making him suck a breath through his teeth.

“Wanna see how long you can last without touching me,” you say before you spit onto his tip, smearing it with the precum along his length. Engulfing him in your mouth, swirling your tongue over his tip; running it up and down the prominent vein along the underside. Harry’s eyes roll into the back of his head when you pass the tip of your tongue over the tip of his cock. 

“F–Fuck, sweets, that’s s–so go–ood,” his hands fist in the comforter, just itching to grasp into your hair to guide you how he wanted you. But he was enjoying letting you have your fun. You hum after sinking him to the back of your throat; working him up and up and up. “Baby, if you don’t stop, I’m gon–” you reach up, to fondle his balls, giving them a firm squeeze. His hands shoot up; pulling you off of his cock. “Unless you want me to cum down your throat, you’d better stop now,” he warns you, letting you go. You shake your head.

“Fuck my throat, Harry,” you groan. “Gimme your cum,” your tongue lulls out as you put your mouth on him again.

“You want my help now?” he questions, swiping your hair out of your eyes. You hum an ‘mhm’ around his cock. You pull off for a second—”You already lost, so just fuck my throat already”—before sinking your mouth back onto him. A groan erupts from deep in his chest; he stands slightly, gripping underneath your chin with one hand, and cradles the back of your head with the other, “Breathe through that nose, baby,” he says before nestling your nose against his happy trail; holding you there for a few seconds before pulling back just enough to hear the slick sounds of spit leaving your lips and then diving back in. Rocking his hips back and forth; his balls slapping your chin with every thrust. Your eyes watering, mascara bleeding onto your cheeks. He pulls you off, letting you catch your breath. “Color?” he asks, leaning down by your face. 

“G-green,” you choke out, a sadistic grin forming on your lips. 

“My filthy girl,” he smiles down at you. Tapping your cheek, signaling you to open, Harry spits onto your tongue, colliding his fingertips with the surface of your cheek before sliding his cock back into your mouth. You groan at the impact on your cheek. “Still want my cum in your throat? Blink once for yes and two for no, sweets,” he grins down at you. You blink once in response. “Alright, baby” he speeds up his hips, the tip of his cock prodding at the back of your throat with every thrust. You gag, but he presses on emptying himself deep inside. Moans and cries of your name leave his lips as he squeezes every last drop into your mouth onto your tongue. You swallow and cough as he pulls himself out, catching your breath. He reaches down, pulling you up under your arms to stand with him. Swiping his hands over your hips and lower back; he pulls you to straddle his lap on the bed once again. “Such a pretty girl, looking a mess for me,” he praises, swiping a thumb across your cheek wiping some of the tears and drool away. “Missed you like this. Missed you in general,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours, tasting himself on your tongue. 

“I missed you too,” you whisper against his lips, pressing your lips back together. He grins against your mouth.

“Couldn’t have missed me too much,” he chastises you, “How many guys did you try to look for me in?” he questions, flipping the two of you over, standing between your legs and  leaning over you. “Hm? How many guys did you try to let have what's mine?” One of his hands swipes those two fingers through your folds.

“J-just f-four,” you moan at the contact. “Promise, I missed you,” you try to pull him down to you, but he remains like a statue, staring at you from above. “Please, kiss me, Harry,” you plead with him.

“Mm, just four,” he mutters. “Gonna give me four orgasms to make it up to me?” he nods his head at you, grabbing your chin to nod your head for you; he smiles at the look of panic in your eyes. “Say, ‘Yes, Harry’ if you understand, baby,” he says, placing a kiss on your nose.

“Y-yes, Harry,” you whisper. Smiling before pulling his lips to yours. He trails his kisses down the expanse of your chest, teasing his tongue on your skin with every kiss. You’re a whimpering mess beneath his touch. Reacting to every pass of his hands over your sweat-slicked skin. Harry settles on his knees between your legs, sligning your knees over his shoulders.

“Still green?” he asks, breath fanning over your cunt. 

“Uhuh,” you whine. “So green.”

Harry dives right in, swiping his tongue over your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, lightly crazing his teeth over the nub; making your hips jerk in response. One of his hands slides up to firmly hold your hips in place against the mattress. 

“Oh, fuck, Harry,” you gasp as a finger enters your heat, giving you that delicious curl that only he could achieve. Your fingers weave into his curls, tugging at the roots. 

“Mm, baby. Keep pulling on it,” he moans against your pussy. “Make it hurt,” he whines. Tongue fucking you as deep as he could and his nose constantly bumping up with your clit has your senses turning all the lights in the house on, plus his finger poking at your g spot has you cumming without warning. Clutching onto his curls for dear life as your body convulses under his mouth.

“Gimme all of it, baby. Soak my face,” he says, continuing his ministrations. Your clit throbs under his tongue, sending shockwaves through your body. 

“T–too much, Harry, oh god. Too much!” He slaps down on your thigh as a warning.

“Shut up, and take it for me like the good girl I know you can be f’me,” his thumb pressing on your clit, sending you into your second orgasm only a minute and a half after your first one. “Good,” he praises you. “Very good, baby.” His fingers continue working you through your trembling state; bringing you back down to earth; just for him to send you back into outer space once he deemed you ready for takeoff. “How are you feeling, sweets?” He slides your legs off of his shoulders, then standing to lean over you again.

“So fucking good, Harry,” you moan out, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. He leans into your touch laying his body weight on top of yours. One of his hands comes up to cradle your face, swiping his thumb over the apple of your cheek before kissing you hard. Tasting yourself on someone else’s tongue has never tasted so good. He moans into your mouth, swiping his cock through your folds. 

“Good,” he smiles down at you. You hike your leg up around his hip, tugging him as close to you as possible as he pushes inside. A delicious stretch that you’ve missed terribly. None of those boys you’d attempted to forget Harry with could ever compare to this here and now. He swallows the moans you let escape; sliding his other hand down to grip the sides of your throat, making you whimper. “Take it,” he growls, “Take it all.” 

“Hgnh, Harry. It–it’s–” your moans take over before you’re able to finish your sentence. But Harry knew.

“Know it is, baby. But you love it.” He grins, covering your mouth with his to pull your tongue into his mouth. Stilling his hips once he’s at full hilt, surveying your body's responses to the stretch. Pulling your other leg up over his hip, you silently beg him to move. Harry begins rocking his hips back and forth, stealing every one of your whimpers and cries of pleasure. Your nails leaving scratches along his back. Harry reaches one arm under your lower back, lifting your hips slightly, getting a different angle. Your head tilts back, he takes the opportunity to attach his teeth to your throat, eliciting a deep groan from you. 

But he’s not satisfied yet. He stands, still inside you; grabbing ahold of behind both of your knees and pressing them to your chest, he pistons himself into your cunt; turning you into a whimpering mess. “Fuck, sweets, this pussy fe–eels so go–od.” He groans, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. The angle making your eyes cross; lulling your tongue out he offers you a wad of spit, adding two fingers. “Suck,” and you do. Taking them into your mouth; swirling your tongue around. His other hand sliding down to rub fast circles on your clit, making you gasp. Accepting the opportunity, he pushes his fingers further into your throat making you gag. “Hm, very good, baby,” he smiles at you, retracting his fingers; offering you a slap across your cheek. You smile up at him. “Dirty girl, just wants to be manhandled. Poor thing’s been neglected, huh?” You nod. 

He speeds up his fingers, ignoring your protests of too much. He reminds you that you know what words to use if you really want him to stop. “Gonna cum, pretty?” 

“Uhuh uhuh,” you whine, “hurts, Harry.”

“Know it does, pretty. But you’ll take it f’me won’t you?” he coos at you. You nod frantically in response, your arms anchoring around his neck and pulling him to you. “Yeah you will.”

“G’na cum, Harry,” you tuck your face into his throat, peppering kisses all over the surface in attempt to ground yourself. 

“Cum all over me, pretty girl. Give it to me,” he whispers in your ear. Your body contracts against his, he anchors one hand to your hip, forcing you to remain in place and accept the assault on your bundle of nerves from his other hand.

“H-Harry, please, please please,” whines leave your spit slicked lips, and he just coos you to be quiet.

“Shh, baby. Just take it f’me.” his fingers speed up just a little bit more, as do your whines. “Now, now, do I need to silence you? You were doing so good, baby,” he says, colliding his fingertips with your cheek once again, making you go quiet. You shake your head ‘No’. He takes hold of your face, covering your mouth with his hand as he looks down into your eyes. “Then give me another, right now,” he demands, stilling his hips against yours but continuing to spell his name over your bundle of nerves over and over and over again. 

“F–fuck, Harry,” your body works into overdrive as you hit the peak of the mountain again; toppling over the edge of pleasure and coming down fast, headed right for rock bottom but not before Harry swiftly pulls himself out of you, and flipping you over onto your tummy. You gasp in surprise. He enters you again from behind, you reach back to grasp his hip, attempting to push him back. 

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done with you yet,” he growls in your ear. Grasping both of your arms, he folds them against your lower back in one hand.

“Y-you said, f-four,” you whine into the comforter.

“Did I?” he grins above you. “Hm, guess that makes me a liar too, doesn’t it?" he chuckles darkly, his free hand landing smack after smack on your ass. "C’mon pretty, give me number five.”

“H-harry, I–I ca-can’t.”

“You can, and you will,” he states matter of factly. Pulling your arms back with each thrust of his hips to hit every good angle inside your pussy. 

Your head is spinning, every nerve of yours is on fire. Sliding a hand down the expanse of your back, he presses his thumb into your ass, making you moan louder than you have all night. With every thrust of Harry’s hips it drives his thumb further into your ass making your eyes cross.

“G’na cum again, oh god, Harry. G’na cum!”

“Cum, baby. Give all of it to me,” your arousal comes in waves, squirting all over Harry’s abdomen and thighs. “Oh, yes, baby. There she is, such a dirty girl. C’mon, keep squirting all over this dick,” he groans. Leaning down to angle your head to smush his lips against yours. Your body is set ablaze; nobody has ever been able to set your senses on fire like this. Harry was your one in a million, and he finally saw that. He continues thrusting his hips, in and out, in and out milking every bit of your arousal from you that he can. Releasing your arms, he braces his hands near your head, biting down on your upper back as he fucks you into the mattress.

“W-where do you want my cum, baby?” He asks breathlessly, sinking his teeth back into your skin.

“I-inside. Fill me up, Harry,” you moan into the blanket beneath you, your knuckles turning white from your grip.

“Don't have to tell me twice,” he grunts, “G’na fill this pussy up with my babies. Make you all swollen for me. Then those boys will know who you belong to. You want that? Hm?” 

“F-Fuck, yes, Harry. Make me yours,” you cry out, fisting the comforter in your hands. He stills against you; filling you to the brim. “S-shit, Harry. So good, baby. So good.”

“Shit, pretty—you’re so good. Best I ever had, swear to god. Such a good girl,” he moans against your skin. “Perfect f’me.”

The months of brooding just kept him away from what was his; you. Everything about you. The smile he fell in love with at first sight, but refused to admit it. The sounds of your laughter filling the air. The way your face reddened every time he kissed your cheek goodbye. The gleam in your eyes when you got particularly excited about something, especially if it was considered taboo. You were his dirty girl.

He was leaning against the counter as you two discussed everything. The one question you’d asked him that he didn’t really want to answer at the time. “Do you believe in love?” His response, “I’d like to, but it’s not for me,” and it broke your heart. He didn’t think he was deserving. He just wanted to run his business, and move on. He ignored every pang in his chest when he thought about you. But looking at you here and now, his arms wrapped around you as you stood in your hotel room shower, his heart has never felt more full.

“I think I have to change my answer to one of your previous questions.” He says, running his hands over your water slicked skin, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs.

“Mm, which one would that be?” You ask, turning your head to look up at him, cheek pressed against his chest, your fingers tangled in his wet curls.

“If I believe in love.”

“And?” You question, a sly smile forming on your lips.

“If I get to experience it with you, then I absolutely believe in love,” he leans down to softly kiss your lips, pulling you as close to him as possible. “But you were right about one thing,” he whispers as he pulls away for a split second, taking in the gigantic smile on your face. Your eyes searching for any sense of deception. 

There is none.

“What’s that?” you ask, bringing a hand down to cup his face; you run your thumb across his bottom lip.

“I didn’t do feelings. Not until you,” and he’s kissing you again.

c/n: weeeeell. what do we think? 🙈 I know it says final up there but I think I may do a check in or two for our pair here. We shall see!! Thank you for coming along this journey with them! I hope you enjoyed!

please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry edward styles #harry styles writing #harry edward style #harry styles imagine #harry smut #harry imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #Harry x you #Harry x reader

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 (Perv!Eddie x Perv!Reader) Eddie is such a perv, constantly wanting to fuck you and do things to you that friends definitely didn’t do. Who knew that a storm was all it would take to change that? 

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭  Absolute filth (18+ only, MINORS DNI or I will fuck your dad into oblivion), pillow fucking, humping but no penetration, dirty talk, unprotected sexual activity (use protection please!!), squirting, mommy kink, voyeurism kink if you squint, Eddie and reader being pervs. 

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 I have no excuse or explanation other than I am a stupidly horny fella and couldn’t stop thinking about this for a while. Perv!Eddie can do whatever he wants to me at this point, I don’t care. Might write more of perv!Eddie if enough people like this and I don’t get shadowbanned. I should really post my stuff on AO3 just to be safe lmao. 

If asked about it, Eddie would say that he definitely wasn’t a pervert thank you very much. That he’d never once thought about you as anything more than a friend.

However, that was as far from the truth as he could get.

It had started six months into your friendship. Up until that point, his dirty thoughts and filthy fantasies had never been related to you. The adult films and magazines he kept hidden under his bed had been inspiration for his perverted thoughts, the men and women in them his sole focus as he thought about every single thing he wanted them to do to him and vice versa, fisting his cock desperately to the over exaggerated sounds the actors in the videos made.

But then the focal point of these thoughts and fantasies and even his wet dreams changed when he accidentally walked in on you getting changed into some clean clothes. He hadn’t seen much, just the curve of your ass in your white cotton panties and a sliver of boob as you’d pulled on one of his shirts over your bare chest. He was out of the room just as quickly as he’d stepped in, embarrassed about walking in on you like that, but the image of your barely clothed body was tattooed permanently onto his brain.

From that point on, his fantasies had morphed so that you were all he was thinking about. His cock sliding leisurely in and out of you beneath your panties until he came on the fabric and made you continue to wear them so that his seed was pressed against your skin and cunt. You riding him on the teacher’s desk inside a locked classroom, your moans and cries loud and needy and alerting everyone outside to what you were doing and who was eliciting those sounds from you. Sliding his rock hard dick between your tits, your tongue flicking out against the tip before he came all over your chest and face. Pushing your head down into a pillow and making you cry from overstimulation as he thrusted in and out of you at a punishing pace, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room as his headboard banged against the wall.

Eddie had often excused himself when you hung out with him, desperate to find the nearest bathroom or rest room so that he could quickly rub one out, but it was never enough. The thoughts still remained, and he had to do it at least twice to satiate him until he was able to take care of himself properly in the privacy of his room when nobody else was around.

And then there were the times when he was at your house. He’d lost count of the number of times since that day that he’d stolen a pair of your panties and taken it home with him to wrap around his aching cock and fuck into a pillow while picturing it was your wet heat that he was burying himself into. He always made sure to wash them after he used them and snuck them back into your panty drawer whenever he was next in your bedroom. He thought he was being very discreet about it; you’d never confronted him about it after all. However, stealing panties just wasn’t enough for him after a couple of months. He wanted to touch you – to fuck you – so bad and no pair of panties in the world would ever feel as amazing as he knew your pussy would.

Then the storm hit.

You’d been hanging out with him for the day now that he’d finally graduated, watching movies with Wayne and eating takeout to celebrate. About an hour after Eddie’s uncle had gone to work, the rain had started falling a lot harder and faster until there were reports of flooding throughout Hawkins all over the news. There was no way you were going to get home until the storm stopped and flooding subsided, so Eddie insisted that you stay the night and sleep in his bed while he took the sofa. It had taken a lot of arguing and a game of rock paper scissors to convince you to take his bed, but now you were sound asleep in his room wearing nothing but one of Eddie’s Hellfire shirts and a pair of his boxers. The fact you were asleep and not doing anything that could be interpreted as even remotely sexual didn’t stop him from getting hard as he lay under a thin blanket on the sofa. He was picturing the way your chest was rising and falling as you rested, your nipples hard and showing through his shirt with an arm tossed back over your face while your other rested on your stomach with your legs slightly parted. And you were wearing his clothes, which made him even more hard. He couldn’t help but palm his crotch over his pyjama pants, the friction good but not enough. It was never enough.

Knowing he could get into a lot of trouble and probably permanently ruin his friendship with you, he threw the blanket aside and crept into his bedroom to grab one of his pillows. His eyes raked over your unconscious form as he did so, biting his lip at the thought of waking you up so he could fuck you into the mattress until you were screaming his name. If he didn’t leave now, he’d never stop thinking about it and that would lead to him feeling far too tempted to go through with it for his liking.

As he turned to make his way back to the living room, his bare foot got caught in some fabric and he bent down to move it, freezing when he saw the familiar white cotton of your panties. The same panties you’d worn when he’d walked in on you changing clothes. He knew he shouldn’t, but he picked them up and held the crotch up to his nose, inhaling the scent and having to bite back a moan at the smell while his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He was addicted to it, the scent never failing to make his cock even harder. He made sure you were still asleep then licked at the crotch of your panties, whimpering softly at the faint taste you’d left behind. It was at that point he realised that there was no turning back now. Even if he wanted to, he was never going to be able to think of anyone other than you when he touched himself. You were going to haunt him until the day he died.

Eddie quickly bent down again to pick up your discarded t-shirt and took both items and the pillow back to the living room with him. Wayne had called earlier to say he wouldn’t be back until noon the next day because of the flooding, meaning he had the living room to himself to do whatever he needed to in order to get his release. He listened out to make sure you were still sound asleep as he pulled your t-shirt over the pillow, his mouth dry. He could say that he couldn’t believe what he was about to do, but that was a lie. This was exactly the sort of thing a dirty pervert like him would do.

And he fucking loved every minute.

Pulling down his pyjama pants to his knees, he hissed when the air hit his leaking dick. The head was an angry red with a bead of pearlescent precum dripping out of it. He pulled up the sides of the pillow as he rested his cock on it, biting his lip as he began to rock his hips a little. The perfect friction against his sensitive cock made him toss his head back, gripping both sides of the pillow with one hand so that it encompassed him. It was nowhere near what he imagined your walls squeezing and milking him would feel like, but it was as close as he was going to get.

“Fuck, mm, yeah, you like that?” he murmured as he slid his cock in and out of the makeshift pussy he’d tried to create, thinking about you with your legs wrapped around his waist and your feet pushing against his ass to drive him deeper inside you. He brought your used panties up to his nose with his free hand and inhaled deeply. His moan was high pitched as he picked up his pace, already desperate to cum all over his pillow. He wondered if he came hard enough whether it would get on your t-shirt too. The image of you finding the clothing he’d soiled and putting it on, gathering some of his cum on your finger and sucking it into your mouth with a groan, made his hips stutter as he began to fuck the makeshift pillow pussy harder. He licked the crotch of your panties again, desperate to have your taste on his tongue as he got himself off.

“Somebody’s being a dirty boy, aren’t they?”

Your voice had him panicking, immediately stopping his movements as he tossed your panties away from his blushing face. He knew that being caught in the act was supposed to make him feel embarrassed and ashamed, but the thought of you seeing him fuck himself on a pillow clad in your shirt while he breathed in your panties made him want to keep going and show you just what a fucking mess you made him.

He watched as you moved closer to the sofa he was kneeling on, your hands making him drop the sides of the pillow. He almost came there and then when you bit your lip and moaned, his cock twitching as you gazed down at it. A shiver ran through his body when you teasingly trailed a finger from the base to the tip, dipping it into the slit to collect some of his precum. You stared into his eyes as you licked the digit agonisingly slowly.

“What’s wrong, Eds? Aren’t you gonna fuck that pillow for me? Or would you prefer something a little different?” you asked.

He shuddered and groaned quietly. “I didn’t –”

“Didn’t what?” you cooed, slowly pulling his boxers off your body and kicking them aside. “Didn’t think I’d catch you? Didn’t think I knew what you did with my panties every time you came over to my house? Didn’t think I’ve heard you getting off in the bathroom thinking about me?”

Whimpering, Eddie nodded his head and watched as you moved your hand to between your legs and pulled it back to show him your wet, sticky arousal all over your fingers. He obediently opened his mouth when your prodded them against his lips, sucking them and licking them as he fisted the pillow beneath him. He loved the way you’d tasted in your panties, but this? This was far better than he ever could have imagined.

“I’ve been waiting for months now for you to just take me,” you told him. “Wanted you to just grab me and fuck me until I’m cock-drunk and can’t think of anything other than how good you make me feel. Been touching myself every single night thinking about you. Had to buy a dildo and hide it in my closet so I could fuck myself on it thinking about you and that dick of yours, but it’s never enough. I’m constantly craving the real thing and I’m tired of waiting for you to bend me over and fuck me against the kitchen counter.”

He mewled and started to rock his hips against the pillow once more as you spoke. Never in a million years did he think that you were just as desperate for him as he was for you, nor that you were just as perverted as he was.

“Please,” he begged, your fingers dropping from his mouth. “Please touch me. Want you to make me cum so bad. Need you.”

You smirked as you took his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Seeing as you asked so nicely…”

He could’ve climaxed there and then when you moved to straddle the pillow he was fucking, the lips of your cunt on top of his cock. You both sighed out a moan as he slid between your folds and the pillow slowly, your slick coating him. Eddie glanced down at where your bodies met and watched him move in and out of your slit. His focus was quickly torn away from the sight when your grabbed his hair and yanked it so that he was looking at the lust-filled expression on your face.

“Look at me when I’m helping you to cum. I could’ve just left you like this and made you watch me get off, rubbing my clit at the sight of you so desperate you’d fuck a pillow just to get some relief,” you demanded, making him release a choked out gasp.

“I’m sorry, mommy. You’re such a good mommy, letting me cum like this,” he replied, almost sobbing.

As you smashed your lips into his, tongues meeting as you pulled his head in the direction you wanted it to go, he began to roll his hips a little faster. His fingers flicked against your clothed nipples as he leaked more precum onto the pillow and he relished the way your hips bucked against him. He allowed one of his hands to stop playing with your nipples and started to rub your clit in hurried circles.

“Good boy.” You praised him while you pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva remaining between your mouths. “You gonna make me cum, baby? Gonna make me soak your cock and pillow while you desperately fuck the pillow? Such a dirty boy.”

His hand that had been pinching your nipple moved to grab your waist as his movements became sloppy, his climax quickly approaching at the combination of your pussy on top of his dick, the friction of the pillow beneath you both, and your sinful words. You grabbed the hand that was touching your clit and guided his movements, moaning as he touched you exactly how you liked it. You were jerking into his touch and gliding back and forth over his hard cock as he started to whine and whimper. The moment he felt you clench on top of him as you cried out, squirting over his cock and hand, he threw his head back and groaned while he came. His hips continued to jolt forward as you kept grinding down on him until he finished cumming. Both of you panted and clung to one another as you slowly came down from your highs.

When you were ready, you climbed off the pillow and admired the mess the two of you had made. Your shirt was covered in your cum and his and the bottom of Eddie’s tank top was soaked, his cock glistening as he shakily stood up and pulled his pyjama pants back up. Your lips descended upon his before he could say anything, your hands cupping his face while he rested his on your hips.

“Mm,” you murmured as you backed away from his lips. “You were such a good boy for me, Eddie. Next time don’t make me wait six months. If you want to touch me, kiss me, fuck me, whatever, do it.”

He searched your face for any hint of teasing or joking. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You laughed. “And say what? Oh Eddie, I want you balls deep inside of me while I bounce on your cock in the back of your van where anyone could catch us by looking through the windows?”

He groaned and felt his cock twitch in his pants. “Please tell me we get to keep fucking like this. I don’t think I can go back and pretend this never happened.”

“Sure. But on one condition.”

He nodded frantically. “Anything.”

You felt him shiver as you ran a finger down his chest. “Take me on a date next Friday. Pick me up at 8:30pm and take me out for a burger and milkshake. Then you can take me home and fuck me silly while you tell me all the dirty little things you wanna do to me. How’s that sound?”

He grinned excitedly and lightly pressed his lips against yours. “Yes, mommy.”

#spicy content #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #perv!eddie #perv!eddie munson x perv!reader #eddie munson smut #smut #fanfic #mine #my fanfic

[2knightt]

Hiiii! Can you do the outsiders gang with an s/o who models I feel like that would be interesting :)

↳but i’m into it, i’m into it.₊˚✧

➬ the gang x model!fem!reader

a/n;i love famous reader so much omfg. also, i love using chase atlantic lyrics for my titles. dont chase men, chase atlantic everyone.

Johnny Cade ;

believes that you are the most BEAUTIFUL person to walk the planet.

STRONGLY BELIEVES THAT.

probably thinks you’re too good for him.

PLEASE TELL HIM HE’S ENOUGH FOR YOU.

take him too your shoots and he will be blushing the whole time.

if you wear something that’s flattering to your body shape, he will explode right then and there.

“how do i look? should i fix my hair?”

“you look perfect.”

“you think?”

“…mhm.”

the gang seen you on a magazine cover and started freaking the fuck out.

“HOLY SHIT JOHNNY ISN’T THAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND?”

“WOAHHH!”

“jesus…does she have a sister?”

“guys please stop.”

cuts out your magazine covers/photo shoot pictures and keeps them in his jean jacket pocket.

not in a weird way, just in a way that when he’s sad and you aren’t around he can remind himself on how lucky he can really be.

Dallas Winston ;

oh my god he never shuts up about how he got the hottest model ever.

“yeah she’s pretty n all but, my girlfriends a model so.”

“that’s so cool that your chick is…like that! but mines a model, so, she’s just better.”

buys steals all your magazines/any photo shoot you do.

any guy thats talks about you in way dallas doesn’t like, gets knocked out.

“i’d hit that.”

“yeah?”

“yea—”

dead./j

no but he would pull all his strength in that punch.

the gang thought he kidnapped you because no way in hell a pretty girl like you would go after dallas winston.

“y/n, blink twice if you’re kidnapped.”

“raise your hand if you need help, dude.”

“guys, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

you’re legit, all he thinks about.

he’s so whipped for a model girlfriend, if you asked him to jump he’d ask how high.

genuinely believes you’re an angel, will NOT tell you that to your face though.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

he gets so nervous around you omfg.

his palms be sweating n shit, stuttering and everything.

“he-hey y/n.”

“oh, hey pony!”

uses his favourite photo shoot of yours as a book mark. i can feel it in me bones.

he giggles and kicks his feet when he looks at that bookmark btw

draws you?? i feel like that’s his favourite pass time.

IF HE HAS TO DESCRIBE A STORY IN ENGLISH HE WRITES ABOUT HOW HE MET YOU OMFG AND THE WAY HE’D DESCRIBE YOU IN THE ESSAY??/?!:;&

he’d be so sweet with his words when he talks about you. i cant i love him so much

the gang is lowkey jealous that the youngest one out of all of them pulled a model.

“hey, don’t you model?”

“yeah!”

“what.”

“how did ponyboy get a date with you?”

“…are you guys serious? am i that ugly to you guys?”

Sodapop Curtis ;

POWER COUPLE OH MY GOD I CAN’T.

you guys walking in the street together probably makes people pass out.

literally nobody was shocked that you guys started dating.

the prettiest girl for the prettiest boy, it was bound to happen, c’mon.

he probably got into modeling because of you.

OH MY GOD IMAGINE DOING A PHOTO SHOOT WITH HIM???

he asks for his favourite picture of you two from that shoot to be printed out larger for him so he can hang it in his room.

like dallas, he will punch a guy for you.

“she’s hot.”

“she has a boyfriend.”

“so?”

call 911 cause that guys gonna need it in a minute!

showed steve a picture of you before he introduced you to the gang.

“oh my god soda. why are you dating a literal model?”

“why not?”

“but what else did i expect, you get girls daily.”

Darry Curtis ;

honestly, he couldn’t care less about what you do for work.

if it brings in money, it brings in money.

but the gang sure as hell does!

“YO ISN’T THAT Y/N L/N?!”

“THE MODEL?”

“yeah? how do you guys know her?”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW HER?”

“she’s my girlfriend, soda. that’s why i brought her here.”

“WHAT??”

i’d be lying if i said darry didn’t carry around a head shot of you in his wallet.

he doesn’t brag, but when the chance to talk about you comes, he takes the chance.

“good for her. huh? oh—my girlfriend models. pretty popular.”

when he sees a magazine with you in it for sale, darry snatches it so fast.

compliments you after he seen it.

“i like your most recent shoot, the makeup suits you.”

“you think, darry?”

Steve Randle ;

rocked the whole world when you guys started dating.

DOESN’T SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT YOU.

“that’s so tuff soda, but y/n actually said—”

“nobody cares steve.”

“shut up and let me tell you what MY GIRLFRIEND said.”

STEVE HAS A PICTURE OF YOU TAPPED ON THE INSIDE OF THE TOP OF HIS TOOL BOX.

takes you on dates 24/7 just to show you off.

sometimes he lets go of your hand to see if anyone would flirt with you so he can punch them.

gang thought he held you hostage when you started dating ngl.

“you can do so much better, y/n.”

“dallas, shut the fuck up.”

“i’m just sayin’.”

“i will knock you out.”

Two-bit Matthews ;

HE’S SO WHIPPED FOR YOU IT’S DISGUSTING.

you have him giggling n shit.

his room is filled to the brim with photos of you.

not in a weird way, he just thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous.

tells you cheesy pickup lines, all the time.

“are you from Tennessee? cause you’re the only TEN I SEE! get it?”

would start a fan club for you if you asked nice enough.

introducing you to the gang was earth shattering for them.

“how??”

“what do you mean, ‘how?’”

“how did you pull her?”

“I PULLED HER WITH MY GOOD LOOKS AND CHARM, STEVE.”

“you’re so funny, two-bit.”

“like you falling flat on your fucking face yesterday?”

“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T TALK ABOUT THAT.”

may 24th, 2023. 11:30PM.

tag-list ;

@diorgirl444, @typereader 🧍‍♂️

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #dallas x reader #johnny cade x reader #johnny x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #steve randle x reader #two bit matthews x reader #two-bit x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #darry curtis x reader

[hearts4chriss]

Under the table.

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒.

Bad boy!Chris + good girl!Black fem shy nerd

Prompt: midway through ur English lecture Chris goes under ur desk while the teacher or nobody can see

Part 02

A/n- VERY REQUESTED!! Pt 3 is also done !! And not proof read

Contains: dirty talking, use of pet names, public sex, chris is munchin, creampie, suggestive touching, embarassed!reader.

ever since Chris and I had sex, things were, well obviously different.

It felt kinda nice having a guy as good looking as him giving me attention despite how wrong it was.

For some reason I felt safe with him, like he wouldn’t let anyone bully me or make fun of me anymore, it was kinda comforting.

Chris pov

Since we had sex, I felt so attached to her like a fucking idiot.

I don’t regret not one bit of it, but something inside me was- I couldn’t get enough of her.

I wanted to taste her, feel her. The way she looked up at me with those big eyes and swollen plump lips after I had ruined her made me yearn for more of her.

The way she felt around me, the way she moaned my name and how she screamed it when she would cum.

it wasn’t just that, she’s beautiful.

her cute little glasses that sit on her nose, her glossy lips and that sweet smile she always give me as she does now while I’m walking with her too our class

I kept her close to me, I wanted to keep her safe from all those things that could hurt her. She was precious I couldn’t bare the thought if someone tried to hurt her. I had to protect her.

we got top class and I held the door for her and gave her a small wink making her smile a bit letting her dimples peek through before my eyes wandered too her skirt.

she had on pink panties this time and I couldn’t resist myself. The way they were peeking through the bottom of her skirt made my dick pressing against my pants.

the way she sat down on the desk and i immediately followed quickly sitting next to her in the back so I could tease her some more.

soon enough class got started and I watched her pull out her pink notebook that said “𝐻𝒪𝒩𝒪𝒰𝑅𝒮 𝐸𝒩𝒢𝐿𝐼𝒮𝐻 ” in a darker pink and she opened it flipping through to find a clean page.

She saw me looking at her noticing I didn’t have a pencil or paper.

Do you need anything? I-I have extra..she said softly nearly making me melt but I tried to keep my composure from wanting to bury my head in between her thighs.

are you stuttering princess, I’m not THAT am I? I let out a small laugh rubbing my hand over her leg and her eyes widen.

No just- ugh here! She whines slightly embarrassed from my little pet name I’ve given her but I thought it was cute so she wasn’t gonna stop me, especially if I got reactions like this.

mhmm nice try tho. I kiss her cheek allowing a smile to curve on her lips.

then the lesson started and she began to take notes and I couldn’t take my eyes off her and how focused she was.

she would poke her tongue out, kinda how I would while she was concentrating, the way she’d push her glasses up occasionally just took me back to the night I fucked her so hard they came off her pretty face.

And her intelligence, the way she answered every question with such ease, then whenever I’d get called on she’d slide me a note with her tiny handwriting with the answer giving me a small smile squeezing my hand slightly.

she was so damn innocent but that only made me want her more.

I was snapped out my fantasies when she asked

May I use the bathroom! She raised her hand our teacher nodded and she got up and walked out the classroom and I was mesmerized by her thighs- fuck the way they look when she walks-

I sighed and peer at her seat next to me and realize, there’s a small wet spot and I smirked too myself.

I made her wet

the thought of that alone could make me cum, knowing I made this nerdy girl wet from only a few words and she tried too hide it was so adorable- never in life would I picture myself liking a girl like her but-

She came back 4 minutes later and sits down fixing her skirt.

you okay princess? I whisper against her neck and I watch her breath hitch.

What’s wrong? I say softly pretending to relax her nerves and dirty thoughts I knew she was having of me and I chuckled.

I slid one of my hands up her thigh resting it at the tip of where her skirt began.

Chris- w-were in class…she shudders shyly at my touch, as if she was begging me too touch her knowing how wrong it was and how fearful she was if she got caught.

and? why would that stop me from eating that pretty pussy of yours?

I Watch her squeeze her thighs together and adjust her glasses and I smirked knowing exactly what her little mind was thinking, though she’d never admit it

gonna be quiet for me? Let me eat you out in class? Make you cum all over my face baby hm? I whisper low enough because nobody was really paying attention too the teacher or us.

yes m’i’ll be quiet I promise- she whispers shaking her head.

Lower ur seat for me. I whisper crouching down under the desks enclosed by a small wall for backpack storage.

Her fingers attached too the lever and she does so moving towards the front of her chair giving me a perfect view of her panties.

I wasted no time knowing this already made her nervous enough, I thought it was cute how embarrassed she was. But she was needy. And I wasn’t gonna make her wait any longer.

I slid the panties down putting them into my pocket.

Her pussy was so fucking wet and it was all for me, I couldn’t wait to taste her.

It was right in front of me as she had positioned herself in the perfect angle, I left kisses on her thighs as a reminder she was my girl and nobody else was aloud to do this.

But her warmth was calling me, the same one I was just inside of only days ago.

I press my tongue to her wetness and she shrieks placing her hand over her mouth beginning to write with shaky hands

fuck- she tastes so good, that aroma id been craving was finally failing into my mouth, I slurped and sucked damn near the life out of this girl as she threw her legs around my head trying to maintain her volume.

her hand grasps my brunette hair slightly tugging on it and I look up seeing how she had one hand over he mouth whilst the other pulls my hair, knowing how flustered all of this made her I opt for sending her a wink before lapping up her wetness again.

I couldn’t get enough of it, she felt so good on my lips, it was so fucking perfect on my mouth, i couldn’t help myself from shaking my head in her pussy sticking my tongue out as her legs shook each time from overwhelming pleasure.

I spread her legs further apart making her groan but she quickly turned into a cough making me damn near burst out laughing.

I knew she was probably freaking out from this, and that made feel somewhat guilty but she was so hard to resist the way she sat in that chair her ass poking out a bit which I really fucking hated because I knew she did as well, but fuck it made me hard especially knowing it was only me who could make her feel so good.

It didn’t take long for her to release her warm cum all over my face, since this was the first she’d experienced this.

Fuck- I whisper to myself watch her juices drip onto the chair. I quickly stood up walking too a side table by the class door.

What’s on ur face Christopher? Look a little mess…the teacher questions and I chuckle and make up a lie quickly

Just ate something really good, and sweet and it had some cream inside so I got a little messy I apologize. I give the teacher a sly smile and she rolls her eyes at me and I wipe my face off and grab some extras for her.

I cleaned her up and saw how her legs shook a bit and how out of breath she was from this.

Her face looked a little embarrassed from my comment earlier but she had a small grin on her face one of enjoyment.

Are you okay princess? I wasn’t too much was I? I say slipping her panties back and she slowly slides them on as my hand rests on her back.

I’m- okay that was-wow-I don’t know I-i liked it a lot. She says shyly, lots of breath in between each word as she placed her head on the desk looking up at me with those big gorgeous eyes through her glasses and that’s when I realize something inside of me.

I couldn’t just have her for sex, or my own pleasure.

I wanted her to be my girl

@mattsleftnipple03 @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @alexosllurr @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris

@nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @hoesformatt @luv4kozume @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @kqyslyho3 @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @stqrnstars @dlyansworld @chrisloyalgf @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @lacysturniolo @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @luhsexcbihh @nicksmainbitch

#🫂 → his princess series !! #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #hearts4chriss

[waxingrunes]

Ghostface Thriller

This was supposed to be my original fully fleshed out Halloween gig but I changed my mind at the eleventh hour to something else. I only have these very rough shallow sketches to offer that started the whole thing. Read on for a little texting excerpt of their conversation from this moment.

And for one single (quite tame?) Ao3 continuation.

Sirius: you know, this whole conversation is just proving more and more disappointing ghostie

Ghost: Why’s that.

Sirius: well

Sirius: the more you talk the more you

Sirius: this is gonna sound weird but you know when you can grow attracted to the way someone sounds without ever seeing their face? the way they hold themselves like through the screen, the way they talj

Sirius: talk*

Ghost: Are you about to tell me you’re crushing on me, pretty?

Sirius: i mean

Sirius: im telling you i think the way you talk is attractive and despite the damning circumstances you’re actually kinda smart

Sirius: you have to be to get away with the sick shit you do :)

Ghost: Mm, nobody’s made me blush before.

Sirius: me calling you a sick shit made you blush?

Ghost: And sent a jolt straight to my c*** little pretty.

Sirius: romantic

Ghost: Struggling to understand what’s disappointing about any of this.

Sirius: oh right

Sirius: well it’s just you sound hot but obviously you’re not actually you know

Sirius: hot

A moment passes where Sirius swaps the phone between one clammy palm to the other, doubting his turn of phrase with the radio silence that’d been dealt.

Staring at the bottom of the screen he waited another whole minute for the three dots to appear, which was excellent restraint in his books, before huffing out a breath through his nose and yielding.

Sirius: no ten wears a mask

Sirius: if you were as attractive as your fancy words make you sound you’d make it known

Ghost: You’re trying to unmask me through the phone and here I was thinking I was the pervert.

Sirius: doesn’t pretty get at least one photo

Sirius: of something? anything? to aid my crush :(

Ghost: Ask nicely.

Sirius readjusted, looking up to the ceiling as if he was going to find some sort of resolve there. What wasn’t yet clear, was whether it was the weight of the situation that was getting to his head and making his tummy swoop with this roleplay he’d voluntarily landed himself in, or, he really had a fucking crush.

Wetting his lips, he swallowed and was already blindly tapping out his response before his eyes fell to it again.

Sirius: please ghostie

Moments passed. Deadweight moments where Sirius convinced himself his shadow was moving on its own accord. In reality it was a handful of seconds but it felt like minutes, ticking by with the faint feeling of something hot dripping down the back of his throat.

Ghost: I don’t make a habit of sending selfies to my toys.

Sirius stared at the photo. It was his time to go quiet now, for reasons he planned to take to the grave; an event which may end up closing in sooner than anticipated if he plays his cards wrong.

Ghost: Tick-Tock, pretty. What you looking at?

The bastard.

Sirius: not much apparently

Sirius: i mean nothing i haven’t seen before apart from your legs

Sirius: never seen those out before

Ghost: You a leg man?

Against his will, Sirius giggled. Flushed in an instance from shame and shock and the feeling of very sudden self-awareness, but still had to swallow the tail end of it.

Sirius: am i going to get anything else more

Sirius: motivating

Sirius: i’ve been good all week and followed your orders

Sirius: i haven’t argued

Ghost: Oh, pretty. Come on now.

Sirius: okay but

Sirius: wouldn’t you get bored if i made it easy

Ghost: Clever boy.

Sirius squeezed his legs together, sinking further into the cushions.

Sirius: then reward me

Sirius: please

Sirius: please please please

Ghost: You’ll get what you want soon, but for now…

Another picture came through and for a sharp second, Sirius hesitated. It wouldn’t be his face, surely. He knew that and yet the moment felt pivotal either way as he hovered his thumb over the attachment and tried levelling his rattling heart.

He opened it, simultaneously losing feeling in his fingers and gaining it elsewhere.

Ghost: I wasn’t kidding about that jolt, not that hard yet but you’re doing a good job pretty.

Picture no.2

#tumblr is going to hide this #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #ghostface #happy Halloween part one i guess #my art

[inkskinned]

no, but really, we need to talk about the casual objectification that has become the fallback discourse of the internet: if you're pretty and dressed nicely, you're a slut. and if you're even vaguely outside of their body standard, you're fucking disgusting.

too-frequently, people position sex workers as being "the problem". they sneer you're addicted to pornography, you don't know what a real woman looks like. but real women are in pornography. the real bodies on display are not the issue here: the issue is that other people feel extremely confident when commenting on someone's physique.

2000's super-thin is slowly worming its way back into the public ideal. recently i saw someone get told to "go for a run", despite the fact she was on the thinner side of average. not that it would ever be appropriate to say that: but it's kind of like sticker shock when you see it. people think that is fat? holy shit. do they just have no idea about things?

but what are you going to do about it? that's the problem, right. because chances are - you're a normal person. we can say normalize carrying fat on your body, but we are not the billion-dollar diet industry. we are not the billion-dollar fashion industry. we are just, like. people. who are trying to make content on the internet, without being treated shittily.

as someone who has been on both sides of things: you are treated better when you are thin and pretty. this is statistically correct. i am not saying that you cannot be bullied for being thin; i'm saying there are objective institutional biases against certain bodytypes. there are videos of men and women who lost weight all saying: i now know for a fact exactly how much worse you're treated. in the comments, some asshole inevitably says something akin to you deserved to be dehumanized when you were fat.

which means that ... the easiest thing to do is be pretty and thin. it is the path of least resistance, because of course it is, because any time you post a picture of yourself without a thigh gap, someone immediately comments something like you need to try a diet.

the other half is also dehumanizing though, huh, just in a different way. when i put on makeup and nice clothes, i am told i slept my way to the top as a professional. do you know how many women in STEM have told me they purposefully dress to "unimpress" because they already struggle to be taken seriously and if they're ever considered pretty - it for some reason takes away from their authority.

so they make it seem like it's your fault. you, existing in a body - it's your fault! if you didn't want shitty comments, don't have a body. they position us against each other like chess pieces; vying for male attention we don't even need.

and i can be an authority on this unless you think i'm fat and unattractive. when i am pretty and thin, i'm an activist. when i am just a normal person who makes a good point: i am immediately dismissed. nobody fucking believes you if you're not seen as attractive. you literally lose value. you cease to exist.

but the whole time, it feels like - is anyone actually grounded the fuck in reality? the line of "pretty and thin" keeps shifting. nobody seems to understand what "a normal weight" even looks like, because it's not something that exists - you cannot tell a person's health by looking at their body. even if you think you could tell that, even if you're sure a person is dangerously overweight - people are not your dolls. they do not need to be dressed up or displayed properly to soothe your aesthetics. you aren't concerned for them, you're stealing their agency. you don't get to say if they're "allowed" to take pictures and post them on the internet - you don't get to tell them how to exist.

people hide behind "the obesity epidemic" without any actual qualifications. they crow things about "normalizing unhealthiness".

but it's bullshit. i have visible abs. there is a pair of parallel lines on my body, even when i'm relaxed; where my obliques meet my abdominal wall. i am proud of this because it means i'm strong, because i overcame an eating disorder only to be ripped as fuck. it is genetic and physical luck that i even get any definition, i'm pleased as punch.

but it does mean that my abdominal wall sticks out a little bit. the other day i posted a video of myself dancing, and, for a moment, my shirt slipped. you could see a little bit of my stomach. i was cartwheeling to the floor. moments before this, i'd had my foot over my head.

a guy slid into my DMs. a row of vomiting emojis prefaced: you should really lose some weight before you think about dancing.

i stared at it for a long time. there was a time when i would have been triggered by this, where it would have encouraged me to starve myself. i would have ignored the fact i'm flexible, agile, good at jumping: i would have lost the weight for a stranger's passing comment. i would have found myself and my body fucking disgusting.

and for what? to please what? because why? so that he can exist in this world without an unchallenged eyeball? what would my self-hatred even accomplish? usually i write paragraphs. obviously. on this particular occasion, in this body i've been at war with for ages: i just felt exhausted.

it shouldn't be even worth saying. it shouldn't be hard to explain. all of this emotional turmoil when he cannot even comprehend the most basic truth: i am not an object on display for him.

#spilled ink #writeblr #warm up #like if im getting fatshamed. babe......... wake up #is there fat on my body? yes :) #btw this behavior wouldn't be okay even if I WAS overweight!!! that is my point!!! #it is both that people have no idea what weight is supposed to look like #and even if they DID... they do not seem to understand that PEOPLE ARE NOT DOLLS #YOU DO NOT GET TO TELL THEM HOW TO EXIST #if you respond anything akin to ''but raquel there IS an obesity epidemic'' #you're blocked and reported. #go fucking DONATE TO A FOOD BANK THEN. volunteer in a food desert. start a free fitness program #GO GET A DEGREE AS A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL AND PRACTICE IN NUTRITION IN UNDERPRIVILEDGED LOCATIONS #FIGURE OUT HOW TO LOWER FOOD COSTS. FIGURE OUT HOW TO NORMALIZE AND STANDARDIZE #ACCESS TO FARM-FRESH FOOD. PROVIDE ACTUAL FREE ACCESS TO OUTSIDE ACTIVITIES #FIGURE OUT HOW TO TEACH PEOPLE HEALTHY CHOICE MAKING WHILE ALSO LOWERING THE COST OF MEALS. #THE AVERAGE GROCERY BILL OF THE AMERICAN CITIZEN HAS QUADRUPILED IN THE LAST YEAR. #SHUT. THE FUCK. UP!!!!!!!!! #you don't want to help these people!!!!! #you want to bully them but still feel like a good person! #you want to be justified in your hatred of an entire CLASS of people!!! #you don't give a fuck about how it makes them feel!!!! #you care ONLY about whether or not YOU get to VIRTUE SIGNAL that YOURE so thin and pretty!!!! #it is BECAUSE of people like you #and the fact you tolerate fatphobia - BECAUSE of that normalization. that men like the one who called me fat #feel like they can get away with it. #bc there's a line for you where you WOULD be okay with it. where if i WASNT thin you'd be okay with it. #which means the line can always be pushed in a certain direction. and it's always going to appeal to male aesthetics. #''well you didn't deserve it'' maybe fucking NOBODY does babe. maybe we should just all agree not to comment on ppls bodies!!

[heartfullofleeches]

Maniac

Yans (Nerd, Bully, Student Council) + Dismissive Creep Reader Blurb [G.N All]

Warning: Bullying, mentions of dead animals, violence, death

(An: Never been huge of the school setting but this came up while listening to a song with the same title. If you can guess it you get a cookie)

Creep Reader who's friends with the school punching bag. Saying they're acquaintanced is a bit of a stretch as nerd hangs out with them because nobody bothers them when they sit next to this freak and they dress their wounds, and Creep only tolerates them because they take pictures of every blossoming bruise and cut.

You never offer input in their one-sided conversations, scribbling away in that notebook of yours as they go insane rambling on about what their bullies did that day and how it feels everyone appears to be out to get them. All you ever do with anyone is watch, listen, and write. It's honestly like talking to a brick wall sometimes.... which is why they had no problem accepting the only good advice ever given to them.

"Y'know.... Even if I report this to the principal it wouldn't stop. They'll get suspended for a few days and when they come back - they'll probably just kill you. If you want this to stop, you need to find a new target for them."

A new target...There's only one person more of a freak than them.

"Y/n takes pictures of dead animals."

The rumor spread like wildfire. A tale spun by a sock puppet account and sprinkled throughout the halls. Really, even they weren't sure if the rumor was true or not, but with that camera and your track record it wasn't out of possibility. All eyes were immediately on you. Your phone number was leaked and the threats and queries poured in. People would point at carcasses on the road and make sure you were in earshot when they joked about hoping nobody was taking pictures. They went so far as to sneak a dead bird in your bag when you weren't looking and poured milk on your items when they couldn't find any. They stole your gym clothes, wrote foul things on your desk and locket - but none of them had ever touched you.

As expected, you had no reaction to this. That's the thing your "friend" had always been jealous of you for. So closed off from the world, from the pain it gives. With nobody slamming their head in the lockers anymore, people began to appreciate their talents and hobbies. They made friends. Real ones. They naturally started to drift away from you, but they always stopped when they saw you in the halls.

"Hey, Y/n.... How have you been?"

"Fine."

"None of this is bothering you?..."

"As long as they don't touch me - I'm fine."

All that's where you left the conversation - and your friendship. Your dismissal to it all lead many to give up after a few weeks, but one remained. The same blight on your friend's life since the start of school. Sure, your reactions were lackluster - but they knew they could break you. It was only a matter of time - and you had just given them the key.

"Hey - Freak!"

Your head bounces off the metal door as you're thrown into your locker.

"Can't touch you, huh? The fuck are you going to do about it?"

You rise to your feet, touching the wet spot at the back of your skull. "If we're going to do this, it's better we do it where nobody can see us."

"Ha? - don't want people to see you lose a few teeth? Fine, I got a big game in a few weeks and rather not get expelled before then."

"Sure."

Your former watches as you're lead behind the school. They should do something, call a teacher - but they're too afraid. The weight of the situation falls on them as you disappear from sight. You're going to get hurt and it's all their fault. Your bully cooks up all the things they plan on doing to you, cracking their knuckles and damn near salivating at the thought of seeing your stone face crumple. They're too preoccupied with their threats to notice you pulling something out of your pocket. Their foot falls off the concrete path and into the grassy terrain as they ready their fists, doubling over in pain as pain splits up their side. They vomit spittle and their own words as they look up, metal bars wrapped around your hands.

"what....the fuck."

"Get up."

Gritting their teeth, the bully drags themselves to their feet - back on their knees before they can stand as your fist barrels into their stomach. You grab both sides of their head and ram your knee into the facture scar on their nose. You're unrelenting even as they fall back on their ass, removing your metal knuckles and mounting them as you ball your fists. You weren't ready for a murder charge just let. Over and over, your balled hand cracks against their face and jaw - drawing red with each wet smack. You stop only to switch you your unbruised hand - their arms shooting up in defense.

"please...."

"..."

"stop...."

"Isn't that what people ask you?"

You climb off their battered body, lifting one leg under your arm. "I've studied people for a while. Writing scenarios where I could ruin lives is much better for all of us than actually doing it. I know things about you too... Your family paid off your younger brother's teacher so he got get into that nice college - and you have a full ride... If you can still use both legs."

Tears prick their eyes. They fight to keep them in. This was their future you were playing with. "I'm sorry! I won't hurt anyone again I promise!"

Your grip tightens "I don't care about everyone."

"I won't mess with you anymore!"

They flinch as you drop their leg. "Good." Waking over to your discarded backpack, you retrieve your med kit and camera - dropping down beside them as you remove the lense.

"Smile."

Their eyes burn as the camera flash goes off. You set the camera aside as you open the kit and pull out an alcohol swab - pinning them to the ground as you apply it to their split cheek.

"Ow! The fuck are you doing now?"

"Quiet."

"Get the fuck off me!"

"You have a game in a few weeks, don't you? I don't think I broke anything, but you probably don't want the other team to see you with bruises."

-

The following Monday, your bully greets you all smiles and pleasant as if you were the best of friends. They could do the exact same thing as you and study you like an animal in a zoo to inact their revenge. Anyone who still picked on you quickly turned on their heels when they saw you with their click. They bragged while you were away about how they planned to tear your life to shreds so hard the damage would last long after school. It was going to be the peak of their year -

"Drink this."

"An energy drink? If you wanted to posion me, you could've done it with something better."

"The seal is still intact. No amount of chapstick will fix your dry lips, because you're dehydrated. An athlete should know better than that."

Their fingers instinctly fly to their lips. How did you?.... You did say you had been watching. They didn't know nor understand the full reach of your knowledge until they got a happy birthday message from an unknown number and a speaker ended up in a pool when they were urged to jump in. They had a fear of water since adolescence after nearly drowning at a lake. You never took charge for this acts and mostly blended into the crowd when they happened. You picked up your old hobby of patching their injuries and taking photos as payment. Why were you doing so much for someone who wanted to make you suffer?

"We're friends.... aren't we?"

Huh?

"Besides, if I stick with you, I don't have to look up gore sites anymore - or take pictures of dead animals."

You're such a fucking freak. A freak - that was starting to grow on them.

You became the person they'd look for first during school - when they needed a shoulder to cry on. You rarely offered comfort, but a pat on the shoulders was good enough for them. Their hand would find your shoulder or waist so frequently that rumors began spreading that you were dating - until people found out every touch was met with a light punch to their bruised ribs. They'd just laugh it off and apologize before doing it again an hour later.

Your former friend was having the time of their life - for a while. Something felt... artificial about their new friends. They had a good time at school and when they got together on weekends, but nobody was there for them at any other time. No one to vent to or wish them happy birthday exactly when it turned midnight - like you used you. They missed you. More than anything.

"Hey - give me Y/n's number."

Been a while since they've been in this scenario. Why was your shared bully asking them for your number?

"H-huh? Why?...."

"I had to get a new phone and can't remember the last digits. Stop asking questions and give it to me."

"Okay!"

The bully snatches their phone and punches the number into theirs - eyes softening as the line connects. "Y/n..... What? Of course it's me. I got a new phone. Anyway, I got tickets to that one movie that's coming out this week - the one that got pushed back because the prop knife turned out to be real? You coming or not?... Good."

Your former friend catches their phone as it's tossed back to them - watching their bully walk away with the flush of a middle schooler confessing to their crush. They hadn't been hit at all during the altercation, but their chest hurt hearing your voice after so long away from you - even faintly.

They find you the next day at the top of the roof. It was your favorite hiding place, and the only one your bully hadn't found yet. They sit quietly beside you.

"How have you been?..."

"Fine..."

They purse their lips together. "What...did you do to make them stop?"

"Put them in their place."

"What do you mean by that?"

You point your camera at the passing crowd. "At our age, people only have as much power as you give them. If you stand your ground they'll typically back down, and if they don't - you beat the to a pulp and ruin their families lives."

Your friend can't stop the tears from flowing. You had always been the strong one, that they knew - but how could you handle things so easily? How could they betray you like that? Their only companion in this world - thrown to the wolves when you should've been their for each other.

"It was you wasn't it?"

You stand up.

"Stay away from me."

They reach out to grab you - mend the tattered strings of your friendship. "Don't leave me. I did it, okay? I did it, and I'm so so sorry. Y/n, please forgive me - I couldn't take it anymore. I'd go back to the way things were if it meant you were still with me. Please, Y/n, I'm in lo-"

Their vision blanks, speckles of blood littering the ground floor from their split lip. You lower your hand back down to your camera.

"Don't lie to me. Or yourself like that."

It hurts... Everything hurts.... Still, they smile - showing you the bloodied whites of their teeth.

""ahhh.... Y/n, I'm... I'm bleeding. Don't you want to take a picture of me? Aren't I still beautiful to you? Aren't I good enough?"

You don't grace them with a reply, walking off as they curl into themself. It hurts - their mouth is numb, but it hurts all over. Please, come back. Let them their their head on your shoulder until the pain goes away. Y/n... Please.

"I'm sorry...."

"But are you really though?"

They cover their ears with their hands. Shut up. Go away. If they'd done their job probably - none of these would've happened. The student council president. The worthless coward didn't even have the courage to come themself. Just another lackey doing their bidding.

"Leave me alone."

"Ugh, you're so whiny. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

"I just wanted I break - I didn't mean to hurt them."

"Yea, yeah that's what your like always says. Misery sure does love company, though. I genuinely don't see what the prez likes about that fucking creep. They're wasting their time and blood for them."

Shut up. "Don't talking about Y/n like that?"

"But you had no problem with it when it was for benefit. What did you call them? A psychopath?"

"I didn't have anywhere else to go....."

"Keep telling yourself that. I can't decide who'd I'd take more - the backstabber, or the maniac."

"SHUT UP!"

-

Walking down the steps to the first floor, you crash into someone skipping their way in the same direction.

"Ah - Y/n!" The student council president grins, picking up your fallen camera. "Good morning, good morning! And how are you doing ok this lovely day?"

"Fine."

"Faaaantastic." They point at their cheek sweeping blood on the shell of your camera. "As you can see here, I had a little bitty accident in my culinary class. I'm such a clutz, aren't I? If you give me one of those cute bandages, I'll take a picture of this cut and smile real pretty for ya!"

"Whatever." The president hums as you fish around in your bag, smiling big for their future spouse - deleting as many pictures as they can of others in that short time. If only they hadn't been out sick when the rumors spread. Then maybe you wouldn't be on that awful bully's arm and in theirs instead. They refused to let this little setback running your future together. After all, they were willing to bleed for you on their own Accord unlike everyone else in your album.

Unfortunately, they were upstaged once again - but their own council member too. They frown as the screams begin. They spit on the floor as blood splatters across the windows.

Couldn't go kill yourself somewhere else?

-

At the rooftop, panic takes flight. No no no... They didn't mean to do it. Their hands flew out before their brain could tell them no. The blood pools like a broken jug. A crowd surrounds the body. Nobody can see them from their place on the roof floor, but they can see everyone. A figure wearing a jacket that was once theirs, dyed with their blood and tears. The camera that hangs around that person's neck. The shutter of the lense. They laugh - finally understanding what they had to do to get you back.

You really did like taking pictures of dead animals afterall....

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere scenarios #yandere nerd #yandere bully #yandere harem

[flowerxbunnie]

will you please write chris being a softie but also fucking you in the shower people don’t write about chris being soft enough!!!!

Steam

Chris x Fem reader

Warnings: fluff to smut, shower sex

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR!

The flannel sheets are tangled around us and I can feel the body heat emanating off of Chris. His hand strokes my hair as we lay facing each other, lazy smiles shared as we blink slowly and breathe in this moment.

Slow mornings with him are my favorite, he makes it feel like the weight of the world is gone. Like every breath is deep and satisfying. Everything is right.

“Your eyes are so beautiful,” he speaks in a low raspy voice still ridden with sleep.

I smile and press my lips against his as an unspoken thank you. He has morning breath, but I don’t even care.

His brown waves are messy and sticking out in every direction. His eyes are still puffy from waking and his cheeks are rosy. The sunlight coming in through the window illuminates every dip and crevice of his neck and collarbones. I can see his steady heartbeat pulsing in his neck.

His arm falls across my shoulder and he brushes my hair out of the way, his fingers tickling my back through the fabric of my sleep shirt. His eyes scan every inch of me, his pupils expanding as they roam from my face to my chest, and all the way to my arms to see the goosebumps that erupt under his touch.

“I wish we lived in the renaissance or whatever. I would learn to sculpt so I could carve you into marble.” He says while bringing his hand to brush up and down my arm.

“You.. learning to sculpt? I don’t think your attention span would allow that,” I giggle, turning over and pressing my back into his warm chest.

His arms wrap around me and his lips press a kiss into my hair before hovering over my ear. “I think I’d manage. Have you seen yourself?”

I blush and close my eyes, feeling comfort under his embrace with his breath fanning over my neck.

We spend what feels like an eternity tossing and turning in his bed. Hands roaming our bodies with a touch so light like we were made of glass, scared to shatter each other. Lips kissing whatever exposed skin we could find. Our love is tangible when we’re alone together.

Chris is always so gentle with me when nobody else is around. He has a way of making my heart swell with his words, something he keeps a secret from the world. With other people he makes himself out to be this silly boyfriend, poking fun at me, goofing off and posting ridiculous pictures of me on my birthday, telling everyone he still thinks “girls have cooties.”

But when we’re alone, he melts into the softest man I’ve ever known. He loves to be babied and cuddled, his head usually in my lap and my fingers in his hair. He whispers sweet nothings to me every morning, never letting me go a second without feeling the weight of his love. He would never tell anyone, but he bought his own camera to record snippets of our days on the beach, our hikes, our picnics at his favorite places.

We wake up a second time together after hearing footsteps shuffling on the top floor. Chris turns over to look at the clock on his nightstand, huffing as he stretches and plops his head back down onto his pillow.

“Guess it’s time to get ready for the day. Got tons of meetings later.” He says as he throws the blanket off of himself, sitting up and throwing his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Nooo, I need more of you before I have to go home,” I whine, reaching my arms out and opening and closing my hands.

“Nick and Matt are probably mad at me already, I bet they’re plotting to leave me here. As much as I’d love to rot in bed with you I really need to take a shower,” he says while digging through his drawers for boxers and socks.

I huff and pull the blanket up to my chin, watching as he moves to his closet and picks an outfit for the day. He opens the door to the bathroom and puts his stuff on the counter before walking back to my side of the bed. He leans down and grabs both of my cheeks in his hands before placing a kiss on my forehead.

“If you want to, you can shower with me?” he smiles with bright eyes and extends his hand to me.

“Hmm, fine. Fair enough.” I concede and grab his hand.

He pulls me to my feet and leads me to the bathroom, both of us squinting as I flip the bright light on. He takes his pajama pants and boxers off, tossing them in the hamper behind the door. I start to undo the buttons on my sleep shirt but his hands grasp mine and pull them away.

“Let me do it,” he whispers.

His slender fingers go slowly, carefully undoing each button as he goes lower. His eyes flick up to meet mine and I can’t help but blush. He returns his focus to his task and eventually finishes, standing back up and pushing the fabric off my shoulders. He slides my shorts down to the floor and picks both of them up to toss them in the hamper.

“I’ll wash them and get them back to you in tip top shape,” he smiles, “you can wear some of clothes home.”

I give him a nod and a smile and he opens the glass shower door, turning the knobs and checking the temperature of the water with his hand. He motions for me to step in first, so I scoot by him and gasp as the freezing water pelts against my skin.

“Oh shit baby, I’m so sorry!” He pushes me out of the way and lets the water hit him instead, turning the hot water knob to the right some more. “It felt warmer on my hands.”

“It’s okay Chrissy, just a little cold.” I say as my teeth begin to chatter softly.

He pulls me into his arms and rubs his hands up and down on my skin to warm me back up, letting the hot water fall onto the both of us. He places three soft kisses to the top of my head before pulling back and looking into my eyes.

“Can I wash your hair?” he asks sweetly.

“Mmm please,” I hum, "I love when you play with my hair.”

He reaches to the ledge on the wall and grabs my shampoo. He always makes sure to keep doubles of my favorite self care items at his house. I move my head under the water, letting it get soaked through as he pumps some of the apple scented shampoo into his hand.

He rubs his hands together to create a lather before motioning his head to tell me to turn around. I follow his instruction and face away from him, sighing as his fingertips begin to knead into my scalp. He massages the shampoo into my roots and scratches my head gently, leaving no spot untouched. I feel his hands gather the lengths of my hair and drag the shampoo down. He’s so attentive and knows I never put straight shampoo on my ends, only the leftover bubbles.

He tilts my head back so I’m looking up, making sure the water isn’t going into my face or eyes. He rinses my hair carefully, massaging my scalp again and wringing out the ends.

“Isn’t it hair mask day?” He asks while already grabbing the container.

I give a light chuckle and nod, appreciating how closely he pays attention to the little details that could so easily be forgotten. He unscrews the lid and dips his fingers into the product before replacing it and putting it back on the shelf. He rubs his hands together again and coats the ends of my hair in the deep conditioner, finger combing it to make sure it’s all coated before twisting my hair and putting it in the claw clip I leave in his shower.

“That good?” He asks as I turn around to face him again.

“Perfect, baby. My turn now.”

I reach around him and grab his sandalwood shampoo as he wets his own locks, hair sticking to his forehead before he shakes it out of his face. I stand on my tiptoes and reach up to rub the shampoo in. His hands ghost at my waist and move to grip my sides, holding me up and leaning his head down so it’s easier to reach.

“Let me rinse it so you can rest your legs,” he smiles as he releases his grip on me and brings his own hands up to his hair and washes it clean.

I grab the loofah that’s hanging on one of the knobs and coat it in body wash, lathering it and bringing it to Chris’s chest. I rub in circular motions and watch the soap glide down his stomach, parting ways as it travels down his v line. He throws his head back as I slide the loofah across his shoulders, allowing me access to his neck. He turns around and I scrub his back, appreciating the muscles in his shoulder blades that flex and stretch as he moves his arms around for me. He spins back around to grab the loofah from me and wash his own legs and feet before rinsing and hanging it back up.

“What, I don’t get lathered down?” I pout, wanting to feel the soft exfoliation of the loofah.

“Yeah, just wanna use my hands.” He shoots a small smirk my way and pumps some of the body wash into his right hand.

“Filthy boy!” I fake a gasp and can’t help but let a small giggle escape my mouth.

He doesn’t say a word, he just rubs his hands together and brings them to my shoulders, rubbing slow circles and lathering the soap onto my skin. His hands glide down my arms, following the trails of the hot water as it flows down to my fingers. He interlocks his fingers into mine, bringing them up and placing an individual kiss to the back of each hand as his blue eyes lock onto mine. His skin is pink from the water beating down on us, and I watch as droplets fall down from his hair onto his cheeks. The look in his eyes is dark but observant, as if he’s studying every pore on my skin.

His hands glide up and rub across my sternum, his gaze following every move he makes. He slips them down over my breasts and I suck in a breath, his rough palms making my nipples harden. He bites his lip as he kneads them, the soap lubricating his hands and making everything slippery.

He removes one hand and grabs the bottle of body wash, hovering it over my chest and pumping some out to land on my breasts.

“Mmm, I feel like I’ve seen this before,” he smirks at his own dirty words and rubs it in paying extra close attention to my nipples, pinching them between his fingers repeatedly.

“Chris..” I sigh out, grabbing onto his arms and squeezing, my body reacting to him just the way he likes.

“I know, I know. Shh..” he whispers, sliding his hands up to my neck and gliding them over both sides.

He brings his hands to the nape of my neck and uses his thumbs against my jaw to tilt my head back. His face inches closer and closer before he presses his forehead into mine, his small breaths heating my face up as his mouth hangs open slightly.

“I can’t help myself, Nick and Matt are gonna have to wait a little bit longer.” He says lowly before hovering his lips over mine, not touching them together yet.

Our lips are begging to collide, both of us sitting there panting into eachother’s mouths beneath the steam of the water. I wish that I could imprint this into my brain, two lovers aching for touch but having the willpower to savor the moment.

“Let them wait, then.” I say.

As soon as the last word leaves my mouth, I feel his hands pull me closer to him and his warm lips against my own. It’s a slow but hungry kiss, the sound of smacking lips and deep breaths echoing off the shower walls. His tongue swipes against my bottom lip and I open my mouth in return. He wastes no time plunging his tongue into my mouth to explore.

His big hands glide down my back and settle on my ass, squeezing it roughly before pulling me against his body. I feel his erection pressing against my stomach, a steady pulse flowing through it and beating into my skin. My core throbs and heats up in desperate need of this beautiful man in front of me.

His kisses trail from my mouth to my jaw, and each one feels like it’s branding me and burning to the bone. He goes lower, first softly kissing down my neck before sucking the tender skin on my collarbones. I let out a sigh, my body falling further into his as my muscle start to go weak.

“Such beautiful sounds, my favorite kind of music,” he whispers against my skin.

The soap now long gone, he licks at the water droplets on my chest, collecting them and slurping them into his mouth. He brings his face back up to mine, staring into my eyes and biting his lip.

“Suck me off, baby. Need to see my pretty girl on her knees.”

I drop down while gliding my hands down his wet body. His dick is at my eye level, and I lick a stripe from bottom to top with my hands on his thighs. He shudders his breath and throws his head back before looking back down at me again, reaching behind my head to take out my clip. My hair is cold as it falls down my back after being kept out of the water for so long. He notices and scoots us into a position where the water falls onto me.

I look up through my eyelashes as I place a slow kiss onto his tip, tasting the precum that had beaded up and licking it off my lips. I can’t help but let out a hum at the taste of him, perfectly salty and sweet. I take his head into my mouth and suck lightly, a groan escaping his lips as he finally gets to feel the warmth he’s been longing for.

“You look so beautiful with a cock in your mouth.” He says as he runs his thumb along my cheek. “Take it all baby.”

I grab onto his base and slowly take his length all the way in, my mouth filling with saliva as his head touches the back of my throat. His eyes flutter as he looks down at me, the most lustful but loving look on his face. I bob my head back and forth, taking him all the out and all the way back in, focusing on sucking extra hard on his sensitive tip.

He runs his fingers through my hair before wrapping the ends around his hands, holding my head still and slowly starts rocking his hips back and forth. A low moan sounds through the shower and he bites his lip harshly. I wrap a hand around his base, twisting my hand around him as he fucks into my mouth.

Seeing his face contort in pleasure and hearing the sounds as they fall past his lips has made me soaked, my pussy throbbing with need. I bring my hand down to my core and start rubbing small circles onto my clit, humming around his cock as pleasure starts coursing through my bloodstream. Chris looks down, his eyes widening and his thrusts getting sloppy at the sight.

“Look at that. My gorgeous girl touching herself with my dick in her throat. Fuck..”

I smile around him and continue pleasing myself as he pumps in and out of my mouth, his eyes flickering from my mouth to my hand. His dick starts throbbing and his hips start to betray him, his thrusts becoming uneven and sloppy before he pulls himself out of my mouth. He sighs loudly and rubs his tip against my lips a few times before grabbing my hands and helping me off my knees. He squats down and places a kiss onto each one, rubbing them to ease the ache of being on the hard shower floor.

He stands back up and immediately flips me to face the shower door, placing one hand on my upper back and one at the bottom, pushing my chest against the cold glass. He places a few kisses down my spine and I feel his hard length run back and forth across my ass. I let out a breath and put my hands against the glass, arching up as best as I can so he has better access to me.

“Can’t believe this pussy is all mine,” he whispers as he spreads me open and reveals my dripping core.

His head rubs against my clit before teasing at my entrance, and I instinctively push myself back, desperate to feel him inside of me. Without warning he shoves his hips forward and they slap against me as he bottoms out. We both moan out in pleasure as he fills me up perfectly, not a spot inside of me going untouched. He grips my hips so tightly I can feel his fingers wrapping around my hipbones.

“You like that, pretty girl? The way my cock fits in your pussy like we’re made for each other?” he questions between groans.

“F-fuck, I love it Chris.” I moan out, pressing the side of my face against the shower door.

I’m so turned on that I feel like I could cum just from him talking. He’s doing such filthy things to my body and speaking so dirty but somehow makes it feel so sweet.

His thrusts are deep and fast, hitting every sensitive spot like he’s committed them to memory. My mouth hangs open and I take deep breaths, my lungs filling up with the steam swirling in the air around us. I feel his left hand travel from my hip to my core, gliding across my skin effortlessly over the water. He uses his index and ring finger to search for my clit, pushing the pads of them down with delicious pressure as he continues fucking into me at an ungodly pace. I can’t help but cry out his name, my body becoming weak and my head swimming.

“Keep saying my name, mama. Fuck.. sounds so sweet coming from your mouth.”

“Chris… p-please Chris.. rub me. I need to cum.” I draw out in a whine.

He does just that, his fingers rubbing across my swollen clit as my stomach tightens and my body is begging to give in to my release. He brings his right hand to my breast to grope and massage it while his lips press sweet kisses onto the back of my neck. I feel his dick throbbing and his breath turns into pants and hushed curses.

“Come on baby, let go for me. Let me feel it.” He says in a strained voice as his thrusts become sloppy.

All the pressure that has built up in my core snaps as his words send me into my orgasm. I clench around his cock and ride through the waves of pleasure, repeating his name over and over like a record stuck on repeat. He continues his movements until he knows I’m done, and then he auickly pulls out and flips me around.

“Let me paint that pretty face.”

I drop to my knees and watch as he jerks himself with a tight grip, his mouth hanging open as he stares down at me. The muscles in his stomach contract as he starts pumping faster. He looks like a work of art, water gliding down his skin and hair as he inches himself closer to his climax.

I bat my eyes at him and open my mouth to let my tongue hang out, and he sucks in a breath before groaning and releasing his warm cum onto me. I feel the white strings falling onto my tongue, dripping down my neck and over my breasts, and splashing onto my forehead. He jerks until he’s too sensitive to keep going, and his body relaxes as he leans against the tile wall. His eyes run up and down my body and a smile breaks out across his face.

“Goddamn, I wish I had my camera. You look so fucking gorgeous covered in my cum.”

His words make my cheeks burn and I look away from him, but he hooks a finger under my chin and guides my face back up to meet his gaze.

“Let’s finish this shower before I get left at home and get in trouble,” he laughs and helps me stand.

I nod in agreement and we soap our own bodies down so we can finish quicker. Once we’re all rinsed and clean we hop out and dry off with our towels, stealing kisses every now and again as we get dressed. We quickly grab what we need before we have to go. We race up the stairs to the kitchen where we find Matt and Nick sitting at the table.

“God, about damn time. We’re gonna be so fucking late.” Nick sighs as he stands up from his seat.

“Sorry, slept in. The bed was too comfortable this morning.” Chris partially lies, we actually did sleep in a bit.

He shoots me a smug grin and places a kiss on my forehead as he pulls me into his warm embrace.

“Drive safe, princess. I’ll let you know when we’re done for the day and we can plan a movie night, sound good?” He asks, his voice rumbling in my ear that’s placed against his chest.

“Sounds perfect.”

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader

[nyx-is-missing]

hello! Can you write a Clarisse La Rue x reader where they met before Clarisse got sent to camp halfblood when they were little and were best friends then Clarisse left for camp with no explanation then years later reader goes to camp and sees Clarisse for the first time in years and it’s kinda awkward but cute

thanks :)

This is kinda long sooorrry, to help, the part where she gets to camp (kinda) will be in green

Girls on film 📷

Clarrise la rue x fem!reader

Warnings and explanations: bad words (take the kids out of the living room she swears) gender is specified cause it was written as wlw, but it doenst actually makes a diference, fluff, like two sentences, there is a kiss in the picture but they dont actually kiss sorry.

Unspecified parent gender for both sides so yall can pick wichever

Trying not to kill myself.

That was what i was doing 15 hours ago, just as any normal teenagers living (or as i prefer saying fighting for the soul to stay on the body) during finals week.

In my room there was nothing but piles and piles of normal work, piles for extra credit, piles of old quizzes to try to get me prepared for the new ones and a dumb incomplete project for photography class that was due tomorrow.

Okay ill admit, i had a month to make that, and all i needed to do was shoot pictures, but that was the problem, i prefer taking pictures of people, their emotions, whatever they might be, just never ceases to amaze me.

And my dumb project made take pictures of....landscapes.

Not too bad, if i had any actual real talent for that type of photography, but i dont, every picture gets ruined somehow, its the lightning, the lack of it, my camera falls, gets full of dirt and i get so mad that i just give up.

That whole speach was necessary for me to explain what i was doing 14 hours ago, and that would explain what i was doing 5 minutes ago.

14 hours ago i decided to shoot the photos, i could try many times before it got dark, and if o was lucky enough i wouldnt go insane before the golden hour, and could actually get some nice pictures.

I grabbed my totte bag taking with me only the necessary, camera stuff, the camera, some snacks and my notebook to upload the pictures before i went mad.

13 hours ago i was running to save my life.

And do you know that moment went you go through so much your mind decides to erase it?

That happened, now, what i do remember, i was sitting in a bench by a calm road not too far from the town, i had got some actually good pictures, some of me, some of the trees, some of a butterfly, maybe three cars had passed by since i was there, driving slowly, always saying hi and doing a thumbs up, normal, friendly people from the town.

And then i heard a noise that shook the trees.

I remember seeing something, but never what, i remember running to home as fast as i could, feeling my heartbeats in my neck, i remember the noise, but the people in the streets looked at me like there was nothing behind me and i went crazy

I remember getting home, having a desperate talk with my parent while they got my suiticase ready, and i dont remember a single word.

I remember a funny looking guy my age that got to my house, with goat legs and a more desperate look, and i remember one last hug before i left.

And thats all, aside from a hell of a lot of running nobody cares.

Aparently i passed out from shock or exaustion because i woke up in a unknown place, at night, in a hospital bed, with no actual doctors other than 15 year olds teenagers.

And a horseman standing in the corner, with quite a intelectual look actually.

And let me tell you guys that after the talk we had, if somebody told me i would marry queen Elizabeth within 4 days, i would just belived it.

Because nothing ever in my life would ACTUALLY beat up the level of crazyness of finding out i DO have another parent, they are just, A FUCKING GOD. GREEK. GODS. AH.

Then, after telling me my whole life was in fact, a big fat lie, the horseman... left.

Telling me i should sleep in the infirmary this night for precaution and that he was going to get me to a cabin tomorrow.

Like that was the most normal thing to ever happen to a human, he said goodnight and left.

While i sat there just trying to...basically form a sentence that wasnt "for fucks sake what the fuck was that"

I would have loved to say that i did slept that night, dreaming about glory and greek myths but that did not happened, at all.

I walked around the infirmary for hours, opening every cabinet and trying to make my mind to something, i searched for my stuff, and thankfully found my camera, with some pictures i hadnt noticed i had taken, one specific had a blurred thing in the forest.

When the first rays of sunlight appeared i got dressed, and decided that, in order to prove to myself (and probably to the mental hospital afterwards) i was not insane, i needed proof that i was actually living, actually there, being a demigodess, thats what they called.

Very few people were up already, and i did received some weird looks, it was clear nobody knew me, that was fine, i didnt knew anybody either.

I walked around taking some pictures, sometimes getting lost, but everything amazed me, the forest, the cabins, the stables, i found the entrance to a beach too, and then i got to the training area, aparently, i stayed far away, god forbid i woke up from this nightmare with a spear in my head, oh no, that would be bad.

Openning my camera i zoomed in the people, my speciality, it was sweet, seeing them trully smile, and not pretend for the picture, it was a genuine feeling the camera would keep forever, i zoomed around other peoples faces, but my camera focused on a face i could never forget, and she looked back at me, and realized i was there, but not that i was me, because she came towards me with a angry look.

Ill admit, the look scared me as hell, so much i tried to pretend i was never taking pictures of her, i slightly changed the angle and kept my face hidden behind the camera.

Do i need to say that did not fucking worked? No? Thank you.

"Who the fuck do you think you are taking random pictures of pe-"

She yanked my camera off of me mid sentence and stopped completely, looking like she had seen a ghost for some seconds.

"(Y/n)?"

"Clari?"

"How- what are you doing here!?"

She asked, with a worried look, still kind of confused, she did this look since we were little girls, and for a moment i had a big deja vu.

Two little girls running around, playing all day, telling each other secrets and stories, running to hug each other eveytime they were close, i still saw that girl in her eyes, but by her previous look, she did not.

"What am i doing here? What are YOU doing here? One day you dissapear without a trace, and your family said you went to a new school even though it was the summer, and now i find you sparring with a spear? You are that too? A demigoddes, i mean?"

I spoke fast, nervous, as if my time in the world with her would end just as it did once.

Instead of responding me right away, clarisse did something that maybe would scare every single soul she knew in the past years.

She hugged me. Hard.

Breathing me in, and not letting me go exactly as you would expect of someone who hasnt seen me in years.

"I couldnt tell you anything... it wouldnt be safe...im sorry, i missed my friend... i missed you."

I just looked at her for some seconds, and then hugged her again, this time i was the one making it extra tight, i was the one going insane by the reconforting smell of her shampoo, praying that she couldnt feel my heartbeats against her chest, and how strong they were.

"Just.. dont leave me again okay? And ill forgive you, i promisse"

#fanfic #lesbian #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse pjo #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo #clarisse la rue