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divinedomainn · 3 months ago

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Stream and Scream | reader x multiple men

play previous song? || ◁ PART 1 ▷ || play next song?

summary : After another horny stream, you drop the bomb: fuck-a-fan fridays—seven weeks, seven fans, seven filthy videos. masks on, faces hidden, just you and one lucky subscriber tangled up on camera each week. All they have to do? strip down, get hard, and show you why it should be them. Auditions start now.

contains : camgirl!reader x a whole ass roster, rotating cast, university AU, smut, porn with kinda a crack plot, casual sex, anonymous sex, exhibitionism, recording, oral sex, piv sex, rough kinky sex, everyone wants to fuck reader, horny simp men

A/N : and so it starts!!! is everyone ready to see the submissions from your favorite horndogs? :) (also i hope you can tell whose who hehehe) i'm trying to keep the writing inclusive for every sort of female presenting person so let me know how i've done!

The next few weeks passed in a blur of lace, lube, and direct deposits that made your head spin. What had started as a desperate half-joke had morphed into a full-blown empire - your empire. The girl who once contemplated selling her underwear for gas money was now clearing rent, tuition, groceries, and still had enough left over to drop serious coin on clothes and silk bed sheets.

You’d gone to the next level. Your friends were of course benefitting from your suspiciously newfound wealth, you casually said you had found a better part-time job, never letting them know the truth when you decided to take them shopping. Not yet at least.

Private requests were your bread and butter. You weren’t just good anymore - you were a professional tease, a digital siren with a library of toys, outfits, and vocal tones that could bring grown men to their knees. They paid for everything; soft whispers, rough talk, slow stroking, filthy roleplays. Some just oddly wanted to hear your moans on loop. Others wanted personalized videos where you called them by username and told them exactly what you’d do if they ever had the balls to show up in person.

You were making big bank. Like “accidental tax bracket change” big. Like “should probably consult a financial advisor” big.

And the men?

Oh, the men were obsessed.

Especially the regulars. Their usernames lit up your screen night after night, tipping with reckless abandon, flooding the chat with unfiltered thirst. You didn’t know who they were in real life, yet, but their personalities bled through the screen in such vivid, chaotic little ways.

EmoWithaBoner was yearning. Desperate in a way that made your chest clench and your thighs twitch. His messages were usually soft, almost sweet - You deserve everything, You looked so beautiful tonight - until something cracked open inside him mid-message and he’d type something crazy like: I would lick your cunt until you beg me to stop. Now that had gotten a small “Oh.” out of you. He wanted to worship you and ruin you all at once.

SixEyesOnly was a fucking menace. Flirty, cocky, constantly sending emojis that were way too smug for someone probably watching with only one hand available. His tips were ridiculous, like, spend $300 just to watch you eat grapes in a bad wig slowly sort of ridiculous, and his messages read like he was trying to fluster you on purpose. You assumed it was some sort of control thing with him, throwing money at people and getting them to do it. No complaints from you.

TempleOfSin was smooth, a little poetic, a little filthy. He asked for long, descriptive videos where you described what you were wearing, how you’d touch him, how you'd taste. He liked to also order roleplay videos where you pretended to worship him like he was some sort of God. Sometimes he called you his loyal little follower. You didn’t ask questions.

daddyissuez was feral. No other word for it. His requests were blunt, primal, always toeing the line of what the platform allowed and your own, now lacking, self-control. He liked spit, degradation, and power games. His tipping was sporadic and a lot less compared to the others, though, it was enough to keep him in your attention.

OfficeAfterHours was different. Polite. Polished. His messages came like little business memos laced with innuendo. “You looked stunning tonight. That color suits you,” followed by a $200 tip telling you to buy more in the same color. Never crude, always composed. It made him stand out more, somehow. Like a man who didn’t need to beg. A man who expected what he wanted, and always got it.

And then there was KingOfRot.

Unpredictable. Crude. Arrogant. He dropped tips like they were nothing. $500 just because you looked at the camera in a way he said was like a ‘deer in the headlights’. Odd, but $500 was a good amount to keep your mouth shut. He called you “pet,” “whore,” “delicious little thing.” You should’ve blocked him. Instead, you kept reading his messages twice over with your jaw unhinged and in wonderment whether or not he actually said that. His energy was intense and you hated how hot that was.

Which brings us to tonight.

You were perched in your new silk sheets, ring light warm against your skin, wearing your most transparent slip where your nipples were clearly on display and a smug little smirk behind that now iconic mask of yours. You’d hyped this stream for days - teased it on your feed, hinted at it in DMs. The chat was already on fire and you hadn’t even said a word yet. Tonight was a big one.

EmoWithaBoner: god ur so fucking hot tonight SixEyesOnly: i logged in 15 minutes early and i still feel late :(( OfficeAfterHours: You’ve outdone yourself this evening. KingOfRot: Come on, get to the fucking point, girl.

You grinned, slow and lethal, dragging your fingers along your inner thigh and ignoring KingOfRot.

“Well,” you purred, “I figured since you’ve all been very generous lately… it’s time I give something back.”

SixEyesOnly: oh fuck You licked your lips, loving the short little power trip it gave you. “I’ve been thinking,” you said, voice sweet and dangerous. “Maybe it’s time to start a little… tradition.”

You paused for dramatic effect.

“Fuck-a-Fan Fridays.” You bit your lip. Boom. Chat detonation. SixEyesOnly had sent you $200 just for the phrase.

EmoWithaBoner: you’re joking SixEyesOnly: oh shit baby TempleOfSin: Perfect. KingOfRot: You say when and where, pet. daddyissuez: i’ll be first. fuck the line OfficeAfterHours: I trust you've thought this through..

You leaned in close. OfficeAfterHours was cute in the way he was concerned for you. “I mean, why stop at one, right?” You giggled, cheeks burning behind your mask as you kicked your feet a little bit out of the view of your webcam. “I was gonna keep it casual, but um… yeah. What if I made it a thing? Like, a series?”

Another pause. You leaned in even closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper that still carried heat.

“One fan. Every Friday. For seven weeks.”

You crossed your bare legs over one another, your slip rising on your thighs as you did so. “Seven Fridays. Seven people. Seven chances to fuck the brains out of a very nervous, very willing woman who cannot believe she’s actually saying this live right now.”

You sat up again, brushing the slip back into place like your nipples weren’t clearly on display.

“I mean..obviously, we’ll keep it anonymous. Like, we’re not stupid here. Masks. No faces. Just hands. Bodies. And my camera.” The chat was still in full meltdown, comments stacking so fast the shitty platform could barely keep up. Your heart was pounding, your skin warm and tingling from the high of it all—of watching them fall apart just from your voice, your words, the soft shift of silk and skin. You hadn’t even done anything explicit yet, and they were on their knees.

God, it was addictive.

You stretched your arms overhead with a soft sigh, the movement pulling your slip just high enough to tease your hips. A final little gift before the curtain dropped.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” you said with a giggle, feigning innocence even as your gaze sparkled with something much dirtier. “You guys are gonna give me a heart attack.” SixEyesOnly: no no no don’t leave yettt!! :(( KingOfRot: You owe me for the buildup, woman. You tilted your head, lips curving into a sweet little smile as you leaned forward, giving them just one more generous view of your tits before the curtains closed.

“But before I go…” you said, voice slipping into something quieter, softer, like a secret you didn’t mean to share. “If you’re serious about Fuck-a-Fan Fridays… I want you to show me.”

The pause that followed had its own kind of weight. You watched the chat stall for half a second. The anticipation was thick enough to choke on.

“Send me a message,” you murmured, “with a picture. No face. Just your body, and cock, obviously.”

You let your fingers trail down your own torso, to your hips, your thighs, hinting at what you wanted to see. “Let me see what I’d be touching.. What I’ll be fucked braindead by.” EmoWithaBoner: fuck i’ll take a hundred SixEyesOnly: don’t lose your mind too much baby KingOfRot: It’ll be mine you dream about when you touch yourself. OfficeAfterHours: Submission will follow shortly. No face. Clean framing. High quality.

You had to laugh—giddy and a little breathless. You honestly didn’t think they’d go this feral.

“Think of it as an audition,” you said, tucking your knees to your chest, playing sweet again. “Show me what you’re offering. How you’d fit against me. In me.”

You smoothed your hand up your own thigh, lazily now, teasing.

“And just so you know,” you added with a little grin, “I’m only really looking at the ones who’ve tipped enough to keep my attention. You know who you are.”

Oh, they most definitely did.

The seven of them were already scrambling—photos incoming, tips rolling, blood leaving their brains. You didn’t need names. Their usernames were burned into your memory. Their obsessions with you were paying your bills.

“Goodnight, boys,” you whispered. “Impress me.” The second you ended the stream, you collapsed backward into your pillows with a dazed little laugh, limbs spread like you’d just run a marathon and won a gold medal in filth. The glow from your laptop cast a soft haze across your legs, the screen already lighting up with the chaos you’d left behind—tips still pouring in, messages stacking, your inbox begging for attention.

And the photos?

Oh, they were already flooding in, from people you didn’t want, but it was there regardless - upping your activity.

You rolled onto your stomach, chin resting in your palm as you clicked open the first one with a half-curious, half-unhinged smile.

No face, just like you asked. Neck down. The guy was standing in front of a mirror, one hand wrapped tight around his cock, the other lifting his hoodie to show off his chest. His abs were flexed. His cock hard enough to cast a shadow.

You blinked. Let out a slow breath.

“…Damn.”

Another one came in. Different guy, different vibe—tattoos on his hips, hand slick and stroking himself in a dimly lit bathroom, captioned: Fridays look good on me. Want to see how I look underneath you?

“Oh my god,” you whispered, laughing as you pulled your legs up behind you. “This is real. I’m really doing this.”

And you were. One fan. Every Friday. Seven weeks. Seven videos. Each one getting posted to your feed, available for your hundreds of subscribers to watch, rewatch, tip on, comment under, and probably break their dicks to.

It wasn’t just a hookup. It was content. Premium content.

Still riding the rush, you opened your messaging panel and started typing.

New Mass Message Sent to All Subscribers:

Hey babes— If you missed the stream tonight (rip to you), here’s your official invite.

Fuck-a-Fan Fridays is happening. Starting next week, I’ll be choosing seven of you to spend one very intimate night with me. Every Friday for the next seven weeks, I’ll be posting a new video. One fan. One full-length scene. Just me… and whoever impresses me the most.

How to audition:- Send me a photo. - Neck down only. No faces. Masks will be worn on camera, so full anonymity will be protected. But I need to see everything. Cock out. Hard. Your body. Your vibe. The way you'd look on camera—underneath me, on top of me, behind me, inside me.

Show off a little. Or a lot.

Make me want it. Let the auditions begin.

xoxo,

—Your girl

taglist : @frozenmallows @90s-belladonna @moncher-ire @kunareads @blublublubby @grignardsreagent @soozeu @mochiivqi @sweetsformysoul @killak9mi @celloccino @gurlhere4fluff @syubseokie

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sadmeme · 2 years ago

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The Rise of Homeschooling: Equipping Households and also Changing Education And Learning

Over the last few years, homeschooling has actually gotten considerable grip as an alternate education and learning alternative for family members across the globe. With the traditional education system dealing with numerous obstacles such as chock-full class, minimal resources, and one-size-fits-all educational program, homeschooling has become a powerful device to encourage parents and provide personalized education to their youngsters. Homeschooling enables families to tailor their children's learning experiences to their specific needs, interests, and also discovering designs, cultivating a love for learning and also encouraging independent reasoning. This blog site post checks out the rise of homeschooling, highlighting its benefits, exposing common mistaken beliefs, as well as clarifying how it is changing the educational landscape.One of the vital advantages of homeschooling is the versatility it supplies. Unlike conventional schools, homeschooling permits family members to create an educational program that lines up with their worths, ideas, and educational goals. This flexibility enables parents to include real-life experiences, hands-on discovering, as well as personalized guideline, leading to a much more appealing as well as sensible education and learning for kids. Additionally, homeschooling gives a safe as well as nurturing atmosphere, devoid of the disturbances and also negative influences that can be located in conventional school setups. This cultivates a positive discovering atmosphere and also enables moms and dads to address their youngster's special demands, consisting of any type of discovering troubles or special needs. As homeschooling acquires energy, it is clear that this educational strategy is changing just how kids are educated, empowering families to take an energetic role in their youngsters's education and making certain that knowing is an individualized as well as improving experience for every youngster.

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moonlight-records · 8 months ago

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Rich Boys Don't Have Hearts | LN4

pairing: Jock!Lando Norris x Nerd!Reader

summary: Formula Ivy Academy, or FIA for short, is the most renowned private in the world who takes such a select few. Usually those from wealth with status and secrets and so much to lose. Yet, you are selected to join the FIA on a full scholarship. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain scares a lot students, especially their star athlete who will do anything to protect those he cares about. Though, he didn't expect you to have as much of a...bite to you for a little nobody.

warning: cursing, bribery, jealously, angst (ig???), possessive!lando maybe??? def ooc Lando at points i know it, leclerc & reeader are besties, open ending??? maybe???

fc: none!

wc: 4.4K

current | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Formula Ivy Academy was the most renowned private school tucked away in Monaco for the brightest people. Whether that was inventors, politicians, artists, thinkers, or athletes was anybody’s guess since FIA was very hush hush about what happens behind their walls. Which, in theory, should be the first sign not to get involved with a school like that. With the amount of money, fame, and reputation of how secretive this academy was, why the hell would anybody want to go there?

Well, anybody who wanted to be anybody, obviously.

Everybody and anybody tried to get in. Thousands of applications went in every semester. Most applications that were submitted were from those that came from wealth that expanded to celebrities and even royalty applied and were rejected.

The rest of the world only dreamed of going there and some had the balls to apply though they knew that they would be rejected. They didn’t have the funds to cover even a quarter of the tuition cost. The only way most people would be able to get in was on a full ride scholarship and according to rumors, full ride scholarships to FIA was like winning the lottery. A one in a million chance for most people. It seemed that FIA was painfully selective about who they let in.

Yet, you were that one in a million person who got accepted into FIA with a full ride.

“Who is she?”

“I think that’s the new girl.”

“Really? She’s really pretty, how come she’s never been here before?”

“Rumor is she’s not from wealth.”

A few gasps erupted, “What?! How did she get in?”

“Full. Ride.” There were some murmurs, “apparently she was valedictorian at her high school and she applied and the school was impressed. She has to keep her GPA at least a 3.5 to keep her scholarship and,” there was a pause and throat cleaning, “she needs it if she’s going to stay.”

You roll your eyes hearing these girls before shaking your head. Casting your gaze at them the group quickly realized that they were talking much louder than attended and quickly scattered. You sigh softly while shaking your head because it was tiring.

You’ve been listening to the whispers and murmurs about yourself for almost a month straight since moving into the dorms back in August. The only places you found peace was in your dorm, since FIA had been so nice to accommodate you with a single room dorm so you can avoid that whole roommate thing, and the vast walls of the library but alas, instead you found yourself walking through campus as more people look and whisper.

You’re cutting through the green to get to your dorm building when a larger pair of Jordan clad feet fell into step besides yours. The pace was deliberate and rhythmic to match yours. You didn’t have to look over to know who it was. You stayed silent and forced your neck to look the other way though it’s no use. Everyone is looking at you and the new found walking partner though when you met their gaze they looked away. You let out a silent huff before craning your neck like a flower turning to the sun but the sun was actually the most annoying boy to ever roam campus who was 1 of FIA’s 20 star athletes and apparently, you’re upstairs neighbor that you try to avoid the best you can. He’s smiling, curly hair unruly, green and white jersey with his lucky ‘4’ on the front and his iconic gray sweatpants.

“Well, if it isn’t ‘Miss Popular’. You know I was getting a bit worried that you had already left before I got the chance to really know you.”

“First off, don’t call me ‘Miss Popular’ because I’m not,” you roll your eyes, “second you can’t get me to leave that fast. I’m sure the whispers and rumors about me are going to die down rather fast considering I think people are realizing that there really isn’t a lot going for me.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t have wealth like that nor do I care. I’m here to get my degree, make connections, and get a head start on my career and I plan to make sure that happens,” you glance at Lando then forward again, “There’s not much to me.” You shrug as you enter the building and you head down your hall towards your room.

“Bullshit.”

You scoff and look over at Lando, “excuse me?”

“I said bullshit. I don’t think that’s the real reason you’re here.” Lando stares down at you, “I doubt you’re just some random insanely smart person who got in with an amazing application. Celebrities and even royalties themselves get rejected but they let you in? Full ride? Just because they like you?” He scoffs. “But fine. Let’s go with that story but I highly fucking doubt that you’re going to keep your head down and just mind your business for the next four years. There’s a lot that happens here at FIA, a lot that would be rather dangerous if it got out. A lot of reputations on the line.” Holding out a stack of cash, “Maybe it would be for the best if you left, don’t you think?”

You stare at Lando in disbelief. Lando’s known as one of the friendliest athletes on campus. He’s always smiling and laughing and making everyone feel welcomed. Even you, the rare times you spoke before this moment but it became crystal clear in this moment that it was nothing more than a ruse to bribe you out of this school and this life. For what? Protecting the students' reputations? You could care less about your classmates and what they do in their spare time. It was none of your business and honestly you probably would forget about most of them and any scandalizing thing they do now.

But Lando wouldn’t believe that and it upset you more because it made sense. You were a nobody who got accepted into the most renowned school that was super selective. Everyone here had three things: money, power, and secrets. You have none of those. You are just a simple person with a simple life that really just wanted to further your education and make a better life for yourself so you didn’t have to worry when you grew older. Pay your parents back for all the sacrifices they made for you. Give back to your friends who saved you when you were drowning…or jumped in so you weren’t drowning alone. Unlike everyone else who had everything to lose and nothing really to gain, you had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

You stare at the stack of cash in Lando’s hand trying to mentally count how much was there, “How much—”

“100,000 in USD,” Lando finishes, “more than enough for you I’m sure. Unless you want me to just pay for whatever school you transfer to, I can do that as well.”

“No, no, the cash is fine—”

Lando smiles wider, “I th—”

You reach out for the money before slamming your hand down. The bills go everywhere as they fall from Lando’s hand and the Brit is stunned. His eyes widen as he stares at you in pure shock before his face darkens.

“IF I was shallow and had no self respect,” you snap back, “how dare you try to bribe me? You probably wouldn’t believe this but I actually do not give a single care about you or any other student on this campus. All you guys care about is your fame, your wealth, and the carefree lifestyles that you all get to have. Unlike you all, I actually have to work for my shit and I will continue doing that. I don’t have time to collect evidence of all these scandals and sell them to news outlets. Besides, I need connections so the last thing I want to do is ruin that chance by breaking the number one unofficial rule of FIA which is what happens within FIA walls stays within FIA walls. What do you take me for? A shallow tool?” Looking Lando up and down, you sneer slightly, “You know what you can do for me, Lando?”

“What?” The Brit snaps.

“You can take your cash and shove it up your fucking ass right along with the lacrosse stick that’s been wedge up there,” you give him a mocking smile, “have the day you deserve.” You turn, flipping Lando off as you continue down the hall before going into your dorm, slamming it behind you. Finally, tears spill past and you clamp a hand around your mouth to silence your cries. You stumble to your bed, vision blurry before crumbling against it, hiding your face into your comfort, sobbing as the weight of Lando’s words settles.

Nobody wants you here. Nobody trusts you nor likes you. To them, you’re nothing more than an outsider who was going to ruin all their reputations. Obviously, someone like you just could not be here to further your education and take this chance to connect and get a huge head start down your career path. That was all just some ruse to really make a quick buck off the rich and their bullshit drama. That you will never be accepted by them and you should quit while you’re ahead. Another sob rips out of your throat as you bury your face further, body shaking, trying so hard to will yourself to stop crying but it was so hard as a month worth of worry and pains had manifested as the cold hard truth and the reality was heartbreaking.

Then it dawned on you. It wasn’t bullshit. What was bullshit was the fact Lando thought you were so shallow. Actually, it was bullshit the entire campus thought you were that shallow. Are they so self absorbed that they really assumed you had applied just to expose what goes on behind the walls of FIA? God, you needed money but you weren’t that desperate for money. Unlike them, you actually gave a fuck about what you wanted to do in life. Especially because you were happily picking something that wouldn’t be destroyed so easily by mere rumors or a single photo to destroy your entire reputation. You didn’t care how much you got to gain to expose all of them, especially Lando after that lovely chat, because that’s what they expected of you. Instead, you were going to completely ignore them. Prove them wrong. Prove Lando wrong.

Settling, you sit there for a bit before slowly lifting your head. You ignore the oncoming headache or the fact your face is wet and puffy. You sniffle softly before patting yourself down and pull your phone out with slightly shaky hands. Arthur Leclerc was a rare friend you had. Well, you assume anyway but now you weren’t sure as you text him.

Do you hate me?-YN

Y/N, how many times do I have to tell you that I don’t hate you. Nor does Mick, Ollie, Kimi, or Charlie.-AL

Well, Lando just tried to give me 100K in USD to get me to leave the school since everyone hates me and nobody trusts me and that I’m here to expose everyone for money and not for my education and to get a head start of my career.-YN

…He fucking did what?-AL

Yeah.-YN

Oh my god. I’m going to punch him at practice. Actually, I have piano so I won’t be at practice—I’ll have Charlie do it. No, he won’t—Kimi will-AL

No-YN

Don’t ‘no’ me! Y/N! You just told me that Lando bribed you because the rest of the school doesn’t trust you for some stupid fucking reason! Also, I know that you were actually warming up to Lando for this to be the reason? Oh god I should tell the couch! I’m going to tell coach—AL

No. No, I don’t need any more issues than already. I just…I just need reassure that you actually like for who I am-YN

Of course I do Y/N. Me, Charlie, Mick, Ollie. We adore you. You’re a breath of fresh air to us, really. You remind us that not everyone is stuck up and snooty and loves to be careless and wild because money and fame will save them. You remind us to slow down and enjoy the moments. You remind us to do things that we love even if nobody else cares because we enjoy the things we love. I promise, we wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world.AL

Arthur…that’s so sweet I might cry again but I won’t.-YN

It’s okay to cry!! I can come over with ice cream and blankets for cuddles-AL

No no, it’s fine. I don’t think I have any tears left. I kind of let out a month’s worth of sadness just out, so, I’m good but I might take you up on the offer for ice cream and blankets after your piano practice-YN

Okay, yeah. God Y/N. I’m so sorry this happened to you.-AL

It’s fine. I’m kind of upset Lando did this privately because the look of shock on his face when I smacked the money out of his hand was priceless.-YN

You WHAT?! Oh my god! You didn’t tell me that!!!-AL

Yeah well, I’m done being sad. I’m angry now.-YN

Anyway, yeah he basically found me. Walked me to the dorms asking if I was avoiding him and stuff. I had said that I just wanna focus on my education and get a jump start at my career and he literally was like ‘bullshit’. I was like ummm what?? Yeah so he goes on about how im a threat and all this—me, the nobody but whatever—and he was giving me cash or offering to pay the tuition of the school I would transfer to in full if it meant leaving since I’m just a wee peasant who’s only here to gossip and get paid by the news and get the school shut down. So I was like, “oh no the cash is fine”…-YN

Oh my god. What did he say?-AL

Oh he was gonna go on that I was making the right choice before I smack the money out of his hand. Man he was pissed-YN

I could imagine.-AL

Arthur, when I tell you watching his face darken out of anger was—kinda scary. Though mama ain’t raised a bitch so. I went off about how I can’t believe he thinks I’m shallow and that I truly could care less about my classmates and that I need these connections so why would I risk losing those connections by outing everyone, ya know???-YN

Oh I know.-AL

Thank you! So then I was like “you know what you can do for me” and he was like “what?!” all snappy and shit. I told him he can pick his money up and shove it right up his ass along with his lacrosse stick and have the day he deserves and the I flipped him off as I left…then I broke down and cried and now we’re here-YN

I AM SO PROUD OF YOU FOR THAT!!! AS YOU SHOULD! Oh my god, I am buying you dinner for that because that is amazing. Also, Lando can go fuck himself and I will personally make sure it happens at practice.-AL

Arthur!-YN

It’s fine! I already laid out that Charles is just to make Lando go a bit insane. No physical harm, all mental.-AL

…Fine. Only because there’s no way I can convince either of you to not do anything-YN

You’re learning! Okay, I have to run but I will see you later tonight. You don’t have to, considering how news gets out around here but, Charlie would like to see you at some point just to make sure you’re okay so, just show a sign of life to him? Please? I’ll cover the ice-cream if you do-AL

I will, promise.-YN

Alright, see you see y/n!-AL

You too, Arthur.-YN

It’s only been 20 minutes since your conversation with Arthur and you really didn’t want to leave your dorm let alone the field after everything that happened. You had finally found the energy to climb into bed curled up under the comfort while staring at the wall before frowning. You know that if you didn’t Charles would go insane with worry and blow up both your phone and Arthur’s and you really didn’t want to upset the only rare few people in your corner. Sighing, you force yourself out of your bed and go through your closet.

The school had uniforms that students must wear to classes. Outside of classes, students were free to wear whatever they wanted and you chose a baggy hoodie with a t-shirt underneath and fuzzy pajama pants that had snoopy all over them. Sliding your crocs on, you grabbed your keys, phone, headphones, and lanyard with your ID before heading out of your dorm and to the field. Putting your headphones on, you gently bobbed your head to the beat of the music as you crossed the green towards the field. Seeing the empty bleachers, you make your way up the ramp as you look out at the field.

There were the two lacrosse nets at the opposite ends of the field. The boys were lingering around the benches as they all chatted among themselves with five minutes to spare in this break. You scan among them, thankful that none of them spotted you. Expect the one that was sitting on the bench away, staring at a small group down. You saw the ‘16’ on the jersey and knew exactly who it was. You straightened up slightly when the player turned and saw you before lighting up like a child on Christmas and scrambling over to you, almost tripping over his own two feet.

“Mon chérie, there you are. I was worried you weren’t going to show that I was about to start calling for a sign of life,” Charles grins as he stands below the bleachers laughing softly. You can’t help the small smile that appears on your face as you lean over the edge of the bleachers looking down at Charles.

“Sorry, I was just—gathering myself.”

“I could imagine,” Charles frowns. “I truly am sorry that happened to you,” Charles whispers. “Just say the words and I will tell the coach or I can punch him. Really, I am angry enough to go through with it.”

“No you don’t have to punch him or tell coach,” you reassure Charles, “I think me slapping the money out of his hand, telling him off, telling him to shove the money up his ass, and flipping him off while telling him to have the day he deserves is probably enough.” You smile, “besides, I have no plans on transferring at all. Especially not after this. Him having to see my face should be enough of a hell for him.”

Charles laughs breathlessly while smiling up at you, “You truly are something else Y/N.” He grins while shaking his head, “Arthur mentioned something about ice-cream and blankets?” He questions.

You go to answer but feel someone just staring at you. Casting your gaze up you lock eyes with the sea green eyes staring at you. It seems that you and Lando are in a stare off that neither of you intend to lose but you only forfeit when you hear Charles scoff below you. “Charles,” you murmur softly and Charles looks up at you, a slight pout on his face, “please be nice so you can join Arthur and I and probably the others for ice-cream and cuddles. That’s what we mean by blankets.”

Charles gasps softly, “and I can join?!”

“If,” you start, “you leave Lando alone.”

Charles narrows his eyes at you and weighs his options, “okay, deal.”

“Leclerc!” Lando shouts, voice clipped, “lets go! No more talking!”

“Duty calls,�� Charles murmurs and you shake your head, murmuring to Charles that it’ll be fine. You sit in the stands and switch between watching the practice and looking at your phone. You stand up when the coach blows the whistle to have the team come in to wrap practice up. You make your way off the bleachers and linger at the entrance of track as the team all heads to the bench to gather their things. You watch Charles swiftly grab his water bottle and bag before making his way over to you.

“You did it!” You applaud happily, “you survived practice and didn’t kill him.”

“I know, I know. Took a lot of self control,” Charles murmurs as he steps closer, “I’m pretty sure he was targeting me after seeing me talk to you. The audacity of him, can you believe that?”

“I could, sadly,” you roll your eyes, “he’s an ass. Just ignore him. Why don’t you get change and I’ll wait here and we can then head back to my dorm together?” You offer, “Arthur said he’d bring the ice-cream and Mick would bring the blankets.”

“Okay, I’ll be right out!” Charles says and is off.

You watch him leave and smile slightly before looking away and nearly jumping at Lando who just spawns in front of you. You look up at the Brit and all the emotions from early claw at your throat for an escape. You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to curse him out. You want to ask him why. There are so many questions in your head and you know that no matter what, you won’t get any answers so you settle for this stare off with Lando, even if your neck gets a cramp.

The silence is finally broken by Lando, “What were you talking to Charles about?” His voice is cold and icy. It almost seems uncharacteristic of the Brit but then again, he was full of surprises!

“None of your business.”

“I think it is my business since he’s a teammate of mine and I am also co-captain, so,” he lets his voice trail off as if indicating his importance, “kind of my responsibility to make sure our players are accounted for and safe.”

“Oh? Is it because he’s with me? Cause if you were really concerned, I doubt you nor Max would really be okay with the heavy partying that happens. Then again you two would be hypocritical.” You retort.

That strikes a nerve. He clenches his jaw and stares down at you in anger though he stays silent because he can’t really argue with you. Instead, Lando takes a deep breath while glaring, “well, is coming back to your dorm?”

“Why do you care?”

'“Cause I really don’t need you being so fucking loud and distracting me.”

“Seriously? You’re rarely in your room. When you are, you’re doing anything but homework. The only thing I might give a damn about is your streams for the poor people that watch you.” Crossing your arms over your chest, “but if you need to know since apparently hell has frozen over with you doing homework, I am having a few guests over and Charles is one.”

“Who else?”

“You don’t get names,” you snap. “First off, it’s not your business. Second, you don’t care because I’m just a nobody who’s here to gather intel and sell the secrets and make so money and get the school shut down instead of learning more and making connections and wanting a better future for myself since I’m not privileged like that,” you mock before scowling at him, “you think I’m dumb? No way am I giving out the names of the few genuine friends I have here.”

Lando goes to argue before Charles cuts in, loud and clear, “Oh mon chérie!” Charles stops next to you and glares at Lando who glares back at you, “Oh. Am I interrupting something?”

“Yes. You are.”

“No, you’re fine.”

You and Lando stare at each other before you turn to Charles who slings an arm over your shoulder, “Ready to go then?” Charles asks you, smiling and you nod. “I am.”

“Well. Have a good evening, Lando,” Charles tells him as you just turn and start walking off, leading Charles with you.

Your gut twists and you can’t help yourself even with Charles talking your ear off since you stopped so Charles could tie his shoe. You’re about to look back at Lando until Charles tells some stupid story which gets you to laugh loudly and you nudge Charles when he stands saying that it was a good story.

You hear a thud or something which gets you to turn.

Lando is standing there holding with his head of the lacrosse stick now snapped off. He’s got Max and Oscar on either side of him both concerned and worried while trying to talk to him but Lando is staring at Charles as if he’s trying to strike Charles down mentally before finally looking at you before. He stares at you for a moment before looking at Charles and scowling before turning sharply and heading to the locker room with Max and Oscar trying to figure out what the hell just happened before following Lando.

You stand there watching the trio head off. Your eyes fall on the broken lacrosse stick head. You can’t wrap your head around why Lando was so determined to figure out who was hanging out with you. Was it to turn the little friends against you? Was he just upset that you weren’t bending to his will and made a fool of him earlier today? Why was he like this

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?” Charles asks softly.

“Yeah, yeah,” you shake your head and smile, “I’m okay. Just…distracted, that’s all. Come on! I’ll race you,” you start and take off, giving yourself a head start as Charles is cursing and scrambling after you.

Even if Lando wanted you to leave and threw the world’s biggest tantrum as it seemed, you were quite comfortable staying here since you added a new life goal to your plans. It was a very simple life goal.

Make Lando’s regret trying to bribe you.

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rensylph · 8 months ago

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>>> 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐒

< yandere zhongli x reader ( MAFIA AU ) >

You and two of your friends decided to go to a club to party and the start of your semester in the nation, teyvat. You got drunk and woke up naked in a grand mansion and a man holding your waist and nuzzling against your chest. You thought this would be a normal one night stand and will not be in contact with you but turns out the man has other plans

Warning : implied sexual intimacy, age gap, drinking

Imagine waking up in a hotel suite bigger than your apartment with someone nuzzling close to you, your clothes are scattered around the bedroom, an aching sting in your body lowest parts, a box of empty condoms And the worst hung over in your life.

When you were about to gather your clothes and leave before the person woke up, a hand grabbed your wrist preventing you.

The man has beautiful long locks of brown hair, ember eyes, handsome face features, and a well built body with tattoos of a dragon in his back and arms. Dang you struck gold.

He introduced himself as zhongli, he asked for you to stay a little longer and he will order room service

It was awkward to be honest, you did ask some questions about him but he always gives out a vague answer. As if he's trying not to reveal too much, you didn't pry about it though since he is just a one night stand plus you're in a foreign country there's a high chance you're not gonna see him anymore in the future.

He told his chauffeur to pick you up and drive you home. He seems very well known in the hotel staff every time they pass him they would greet him, it felt awkward of course.

His driver arrives and introduces himself as xiao and he opens the door to the car for you, before getting in he grab your wrist and put a note of his number saying that he had fun and wish to experience it more than one time and then he said he gotta go due to work and you get in the car.

The car ride was quiet and xiao seems to have no intention of making conversation it was just dead silent

And when you arrive at your dorm, your best friend lumine rush towards you and tackle you asking where you were, she said that when she was in the bathroom you disappeared and was entering a limo with a fine gentleman.

You didn't think much of it, since it's college and you have to focus on it. Recently many gifts and flowers were sent from mr zhongli. He even gave you an ember necklace that cost more than tuition. It was 4 million mora meanwhile your tuition cost 1 million mora.

You ask mr zhongli to please stop sending since it causes so much and you don't want to trouble but he just shrugged it off the amount saying it was a little amount and just accepted it.

I mean you do text him often talking about you guys days and meet from time to time but it's Always in fancy restaurants that always cause a fortune to have a table and reservation.

During one of these meetings he pulled out a beautiful ring with a large jade in the front with diamond encrusted around the metal, with two dragons engraving inside the metal.

He proposed saying after you graduated from college, you and him should get married. He will offer everything to you, you don't need to live in that small cramped dorm room you can live in one of his penthouses in the city, you will have xiao drive you and your friends anywhere, instead of eating cup noodles everyday and worried about money, he will have private chefs cook your favorite food as well giving you an allowance every week for you to spend, you don't need to worry about anything just said yes and he will take care of your needs.

It all moves too fast it's been only 6 months and he already wants to get married. You rejected saying that it moves too fast and say you don't see yourself being with him in the future. You said you need space and leave not before paying for your food and tipping the waitress and Mr zhongli just sit their stunt.

For the past few days after the accident you and him haven't talk in a week thinking, you're giving him space after the rejection.

Until when you were alone in the campus garden some one hugged you from behind and whispered in your ear

"if you don't follow me or obey my orders, I will kill everyone on this campus, this is your last chance to stop a massacre of your peers, this is an order "Marry me"

#yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere #yandere zhongli #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin imagines #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin #geshin impact #genshin headcanons #not canon #zhongli x reader #genshin Mafia AU #mafia au

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cherryredstars · 2 years ago

Note

Next door part two! I NEED THEM IN MY LIFE THAT WAS SO GOOD!

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Wet Dreams, Sexual Fantasies, Brief Mentions of Male Masturbation, Blowjob, Cum Eating

Summary: Nice but naughty, a heart that’s pure. She's the girl next door.

Word Count: 2.6K (Not Edited)

Part 1

He’s driving himself fucking mad.

It’s been almost two weeks since he last saw you in person. It’s somewhat his fault. He hasn’t been avoiding you exactly, just giving you room. You were so dazed when he left you, he could almost smell the remains of sex on you. It drove him crazy, fists clenched as he stood outside your closed door for what felt like years. He cock strained so painfully against his pants that he had half the mind to pull it out and jerk off in the middle of the hallway.

He didn’t want to scare you. Big, old him running after small, delicate you. A pretty and young thing that he wouldn’t mind locking in his bedroom and fucking until the sun rose and he was off to work. He could- would - worship you. He has done it thousands of times in the last two weeks in his dreams. They plague him almost every night, his body pressing you down into the mattress as you mewl out for him. He can hear the sound of your arousal as his balls slap against you echoing in his ears. Your phantom grip on his cock follows him when he wakes up, his hands wandering into his pants to try to replicate the feeling.

He’s always interrupted by the sound of your front door slamming as you rush out to go to one of your little classes, his frustration and want burning strong in his chest. But he has to be patient, has to wait for you to seek him out. He can’t just break through your door, no matter how badly he wanted to and show you how a real man would treat you. How he’d treat you so good, spoil you in a way that none of the boys your age can. He could make you his pretty little girlfriend, giving you anything you want. Fuck, he’ll pay for your entire college tuition if you asked him to.

Or, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d make you beg for it. Maybe he’d force you to work for it. He can already imagine it. He’d have you riding his cock, maybe even his face, laying back and watching you take your pleasure from him. He’d enjoy himself, moaning as you gasp and cry above him. You’d look so pretty with tears running down your face, asking him so sweetly to give you what you wanted. Your hips working to show him how much you deserved it, how you’re his good girl who deserves the right to every one of his credit cards. He’d have you coming until he’s satisfied with your pleas, finally giving in to you a-

Fucking annoying piece of shit.

Miguel’s eyes snap open, wondering to the alarm clock on his nightstand. The numbers are still blurry, and the sound of someone knocking on his door is the last thing he wanted. Especially when it pulls him away from his private time with you. His cock is poking a dent into his sweats, and he runs his hands down his face in frustration. He groans to himself as he gets up, adjusting his pants as he goes. His mind is still semi-stuck in his fuzzy little fantasy when he opens the door, mind slow as they try to process the sight of you.

You’re looking up at him with regretful eyes, a blanket draped loosely around your shoulders. His eyes can’t help but travel down your body, salivating at the way your cropped long sleeve shirt pokes out from your nipples and reveals the expanse of your navel. His eyes travel further down, catching on the plaid pajama pants that sit low on your waist with the strings untied. If his cock wasn’t hard before, it definitely is now.

“I’m sorry to wake you up,” Your siren voice calls to him, his eyes snapping back to your shy face as you bite your lip. “But, my heater is acting up again and I can’t sleep with it switching between hot and cold. I already called the landlord, but he said he’d send someone by next week.”

You look so pretty before him, cheeks slightly red from embarrassment as you stare up at him like he’s your savior. His hand grips tight on his door as he processes what you said. His poor little baby, suffering in her apartment. You should have come to him sooner. He would have gladly taken care of you. This just goes to show how he’s the only man capable of taking care of you, the only man you need to take care of your needs.

His hand covers the expanse of your stomach as he touches it. His warm hand is instantly met with your cold skin, sending shivers up your spine as he pushes you back so he can walk through his door. You walk obediently, taking a step back for every step he takes forward until you’re following him like a sweet puppy into your own apartment. It’s ice cold when his bare feet hit the wooden floors, his eyes trailing down to your own sockless feet. It brings a frown to his face, brows furrowing as he leans down and picks you up.

Your cold hands shock his shoulders as they hold onto him tight. The most precious squeal leaves your lips at the unexpected move, looking up at him with wide eyes as he carries you to your room. Most of the lights are on from your journey to the front door, but your bedroom is still clad in darkness. Your bed is soft when his knee sinks into it, lifting the covers to tuck you in where you’ll be nice and warm. He wraps them around you, covering you as much as possible. He makes sure you’re taken care of before he goes off into the hallway to check the heater.

It’s a quick fix, something he can do easily and doesn’t need a maintenance guy for assistance. It’s just dirty air filters, and he has spares in his apartment. It's a quick trip, with minimal labor. It takes him less than an hour to complete, but it’ll take some time before the heat starts filling up the place. When he walks back into your bedroom, you’re still under the covers and they shake slightly from the way you’re shivering.

“Got it fixed, should be working fine soon, give it an hour max.”

The soft thank you and beaming smile you give him tempts him to break something else in your house so you can give him more. He walks over to you, sitting next to you on the bed. Your skin still quakes from the chill, and he hates to see you so uncomfortable. His hand comes up to your cheek, attempting to warm the skin with the heat of his hand. You instantly melt into the touch, practically purring as you lean into his hold. He’s seen this scene so many times in his dreams that he can't help the dirty thoughts circulating in his head.

The darkness of your room hides the glazed look in his eyes as he studies your mouth, his thumb rubbing the expanse of your cheek, “You’re so cold, cariño. Needa find a way to warm ya’ up quick.”

The words are almost unheard, his thumb sliding down your face until it presses into your bottom lip. Your lips part slightly from the movement and he doesn’t ignore the temptation to slip the pad of his thumb through. Your mouth is warm and oh so inviting, your saliva coating his thumb print. You instinctively suckle at the skin, eyes shining bright at him as you open your mouth wider. It makes him groan softly, pressing his thumb further into your mouth until his hand is supporting your chin as his thumb presses flat against your tongue. It holds you still, blinking innocently at him as he rubs gently.

He can feel his cock twitching in his pants, and it doesn’t take him long before he picks you up again, dragging you and the covers to the floor until it forms a pile before him. You’re on your knees, body half covered in blankets and sheets. They protect you from the icy cold of the wooden floors, and simultaneously makes you look like an offering for him. Miguel spreads his legs, grabbing your chin again until your face is hovering at the same height as his stomach. Your beautiful doll eyes blink up at him and he smiles at the sight of you.

“It’s okay, I got a way to make you feel better again.” He mumbles down at you, his free hand fishing into his pants until he grips his cock.

It’s heavy and burning in his touch, a bead of precum glistening at the tip as it meets the frigid air. You stare at it in wonder, leaning your face closer to see better through the darkness. He watches you closely, slowly stroking his base as he basks in your attention. His hand leaves your chin, moving around until he grips the back of your neck. He pushes your face closer to him, stopping when your face is pressed to the underside of his cock.

The skin burns where the two of you meet, and his cock jumps in excitement. His hips move slightly, slowly dragging his cock along your face, the tip of your nose brushing just under his tip. Miguel lets out a muffled moan, his hand squeezed tight at his base as he slaps his dick against your face. Your eyes instantly closed, taking it without complaint besides a low whine.

Miguel lets out a low ‘fuck’ as he looks down at you, pulling your face away until his tip presses against your lips. He rubs his cock along the seams of them, watching as they get glossy with his precum. Your tongue tentatively slips out, gathering some of it as you hum out. His cock is quick to follow your pink muscle, slipping in the crown of his tip into your mouth. He can feel your hot breath on his tip as you gasp at the intrusion, your tongue pressing against him.

He lets out a pleased sigh, slipping his tip back out to slip it back in. You try to call out his name, but it gets swallowed by his cock reentering your mouth. Your hands fall to his thighs, gathering the fabric in your fingers as you lean into him. You instantly gag when you do, mouth and throat not used to taking something thick. It makes Miguel moan, knowing damn well he’s nowhere near the back of your throat yet. You’re so fucking sensitive. He pulls back, but you eagerly try to follow. His grip on your neck tightens, making you whine as he keeps you in place and he slips out.

“Careful now, muñeca. Don’t hurt yourself.”

You whimper at his words, blinking teary-eyed at him. He coos gently down at you, shutting you up by sliding himself back into your mouth. You hum against him, eyes shutting as he works himself in and out. He barely gives you anything, going no further than the end of his tip as your tongue glides against him. He moans, finally feeling what he’s wanted for so long. You’re sloppy, tongue uncertain as it prods at his slit and drinks up the precum he spills into your mouth. It’s warm and slightly salty as it travels down your throat, making something warm bloom in your stomach. Your hands fist his pants tighter and Miguel’s eyes drop down to them.

His finger is gentle as it glides over the back of your hand, the cold skin raised with goosebumps. He tsks lightly at you, grabbing your hand and placing it around his length. He moans at the contrast in temperature, hips bucking into your touch.

“Shit, baby, gotta warm up those hands too.”

He grabs your other hand, putting it slightly lower than your other on his cock. His hands leave your body, falling over your own as he guides you to stroke him. His tip still lingers in your mouth, and you moan around him from how heavy and warm he is in your grasp. Once you work up a rhythm, Miguel’s hands leave yours. His hand falls back to its original position at the back of your neck, letting out soft groans and grunts as you work him. He massages the pressure points near the back of your neck, encouraging your mouth to relax and start sucking at him again.

Miguel can’t help throwing his head back, eyes shutting as you work waves of pleasure out of him. He can feel his balls grow heavier. His cock twitching and jumping in your mouth the more you play with him. He’s close, and he looks back down at you before he pulls his cock away from you again. You cry out in displeasure, looking up at him with a pout on your wet lips. He sighs deeply at you, moving back to grip your chin.

“Open your mouth for me, yeah?”

You instantly do, not needing to be asked before you stick your tongue out eagerly. He chuckles lowly at your desperation, hand tight around his base as he rubs his tip against your tongue. You whine at him, eyes getting droopy as he slaps his cock against your muscle. It doesn’t take long for him to cum in your mouth, watching as thick, white liquid spills onto your tongue. He moans as he finishes, tapping his cock against your tongue a few more times to make sure he’s given you everything.

When he pulls his cock away from you, you close your mouth and swallow. Your eyes close as you savor the flavor, feeling the warm liquid slip down your throat and warm your belly. The warmth makes you sleepy, eyes half-lidded as you lean forward and press your head to his stomach besides his semi-hard cock. His hand comes to stroke your hair, humming at you as your warm breath hits his skin. Sometime during his attempt at warming you, warm air has started to spill into the bedroom. Miguel sighs in content, leaning down to kiss the top of your head before picking you up for the last time.

You instantly snuggle into him, always whining out when he deposits you into the bed. Your covers are soon placed over you, and you watch as Miguel tucks himself back into his pants before sliding into bed beside you. You’re quick to snuggle up against him again, basking in the extra warmth he gives off. The warmth in your stomach and from Miguel loll you into a sleep, your body pressed hard against him.

The comfort of it all and the post-orgasmic bliss makes Miguel drowsy, breaths beginning to slow. He can feel his eyes drooping, taking in the final sights of you before his eyes close. But once they do, a loud band echoes in his head. He’s quick to spring up from the bed, eyes opening as he finds himself staring at a wall. His wall. In his bedroom. In his apartment. Even from his bedroom, he can hear the sound of you rushing towards the elevator and on the way to class.

Miguel blinks in confusion, eyes moving towards the alarm clock at his bedside table. 8AM. He groans, falling into his bed as he sighs in frustration. His hands trail down his body, moving towards the aching dent in his pants.

Just another fucking dream about the girl next door.

Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5

Extra 1

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yailtsv · 3 months ago

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Paige w/stripper!gf

moodboard

• you met paige freshman year of college. you guys had the same major so you guys had the same classes and became friends from sitting next to each other

• you guys became close pretty quickly and told each other everything….except for the fact you became a stripper your junior year to pay for college as your parents cut you off after finding out your sexuality

• the basketball girls decided to take paige to a strip club for her birthday and you were also working your shift that night, planning on leaving early to spend time with paige for her birthday

• when paige saw you on the stage she felt mixed emotions, 1. being that you looked so good up there 2. being betrayal, you guys tell each other everything and you felt like you couldn’t tell paige this?

• she tried talking to you during your shift but you felt caught, embarrassed, ashamed, you name it, so you kept blowing her off until she grabbed your forearm

• your friends immediately stepped in not knowing you knew the said girl grabbing you saying things like “you have to pay to touch” “you can’t touch her” “get your hands off her”

• paige dug in her pockets and put all the cash she had on her in your bra strap saying “let’s go to a room, shall we?”

• she just payed you $550 so you obviously had to take her to a room, it’s protocol

• stepping in she immediately started bombarding you with questions only making you feel worse

• “PAIGE STOP! please…i don’t have a choice, i have to pay for college somehow.”

• you don’t know it but her heart broke when you said you were doing this to pay for college. her heart broke more when she found out it was because of your parents cutting you off because of who you love

• she immediately offered to pay for your tuition seeing as she’s on a scholarship and is making money from nil

• you said no even though she was practically begging

• after that she learned your schedule and showed up every day/night, watching you like a hawk, and not letting anyone touch you that didn’t plan on paying

• you guys eventually got closer during that and started dating, her only becoming more protective of you and your job

• you did lay off the private room buys though once you and her started dating, only going on stage and dancing, or giving lap dances where the receiver isn’t aloud to touch

• she will also pay you for lap dances, having a smug smile on her face while handing you the money, while you scolded her feeling bad for taking your girlfriends money

• once you stopped doing private buys you had to pick up more shifts as you weren’t getting enough from your regular shift dances, that only made paige beg more for you to let her pay your tuition

• you still say no to letting her pay your tuition, but you do follow her advice on taking breaks, so when you take breaks she becomes your sugar mama! she’s not taking no for an answer, she’s buying you whatever you want.

• she does secretly pay for your tuition after you broke down in her arms being tired and drained from constantly selling your self while trying to focus on school

uconn just beat ucla 🥹

& thank you to @prettygirl-gabi for helping me with this, i love youuuu 🫶

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x y/n #paige bueckers fic #uconn x fem reader #uconn wbb x reader #yailtsv moodboards—★

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pretty-circa006 · 11 months ago

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Mystery Man

Sugar Daddy! Coach! Negan x Cam girl! F! Reader

summary you finally find out who your mystery man is tags online relationship, meeting up with a stranger you met online, making out, almost sex, dirty talk, male masturbation, age gap

wc 3.7k words

part 1

note here's part 2! also thank you so much to all the people that follow me. it makes me really happy to know that that many people like reading what i write! and extra thank yous to the people that leave comments and repost. comments make me so happy, like kicking my feet and giggling happy!

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

Ever since her video call a few weeks ago with the man online, they’ve been messaging each other quite frequently. It’s mostly flirtation and nudes, but it has quickly become her favorite part of the day. He even gave her his number so they can communicate outside of the camgirl website, but despite all this, they still haven’t seen each other’s faces.

“Who’re you texting?” her friend asks as she tries to get a peek of her phone.

“Nobody,” she snaps, turning her phone away from the other girl’s view.

“C’mooon, lemme see!” she pushes trying to grab her phone.

“Britney, stop it!” she urges and she hold her phone away from her nosey friend. Britney glares at her disappointedly, but stops trying to grab her phone.

“Sorry, it’s just that I wanna keep this relationship kinda private until I know where it’s going, y’know?” she tells her friend half truthfully.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna go out before Coach Negan starts yelling at us again.” Britney leaves and she can finally resume her texting without any prying eyes. She reopens her messages and sees a picture from the man. He’s shirtless, revealing to her the tattoos on his chest, and palming his erection through his boxers, but of course his face isn’t in it. The text that followed reads Just watched some of your videos. She smiles to herself before typing back maybe one day you’ll get the real thing ;). Before she can get carried away, she shuts off her phone and puts it in her bag before joining the rest of the team out on the field.

Coach Negan shouts her last name angrily and beckons her over with his hand. She rolls her eyes, feeling irate, and trudges over to him. He stands impatiently with his arms folded over his chest, his hazel eyes glaring down at her.

“What?” she snaps, coming off a bit ruder than she intended.

His glare hardens, but he doesn’t say anything about her attitude. “I just thought I’d let you know that this is the third time this week that you’ve been late to practice,” he states the obvious.

“Okay? I know. Sorry, but things came up. What’s your problem?” she half truths. The things that kept coming up were more messages from her mystery man and she tended to lose track of time when it came to him.

“It’s actually gonna become your fuckin’ problem because if you keep showing up late, you’re gonna put your track scholarship in jeopardy.”

“Why is that any of your business‽” she asks defensively.

“Despite you being my worst student, you are the best on this team, so it does benefit me to keep your rude ass around.”

She glares up at him, matching the glare he’s already sending her. Shame washes over her, not only from slacking but from having Coach Negan of all people call her out on it. Her scholarship isn’t something she can afford to lose, literally. Even though it only covers half of her tuition, it still helps a lot.

“Well if keeping me around benefits you, maybe you should stop being such a dick to me.”

He laughs sarcastically, exposing the dimples on his face along with his perfect teeth, before his face returns to a deadpan.

“Or you can just get your shit together. Now go warm up with the others before you piss me off any further.”

“Ugh!” she screams before leaving to join the others.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

As soon as she gets to her apartment, she tosses her bag aside and flops down onto her couch. She pulls out her phone and checks her messages with the mystery man to see if she has any new ones. When she sees that she doesn’t, she opens the camgirl website to see if maybe he said anything there. Disappointment swells in her chest when she sees that there’s none there, either. She almost feels dumb for being so hung up on this stranger. The stranger she’s never met in real life and doesn’t know what he looks like. But talking to him makes her feel good, like someone actually cares about her. Even if their conversations were purely flirtatious and sexual, she can’t help but feel something for him. So she sends him a message.

@ virginesque hey

@ BigBadWolf Miss me already?

@ virginesque yes actually how was ur day?

@ BigBadWolf It was alright. How about yours baby?

@ virginesque kinda shitty tbh. school sucks but talking to u makes my day better :)

@ BigBadWolf You must really want another tip, huh lol

@ BigBadWolf sent $100.00

@ virginesque no, i rlly just wanted to talk to u :(

@ BigBadWolf Well aren’t you just the cutest. What do you wanna talk about baby?

@ virginesque idk i kinda been wanting to get to know u better. u seem interesting

@ BigBadWolf Well what do you want to know?

@ virginesque what do you look like???

@ BigBadWolf I don’t even know what you look like haha

@ virginesque fair. how old are u??

@ BigBadWolf 45, you?

@ virginesque 20 but i’ll be 21 soon

Their conversation strayed away from the usual exchanging of risqué photos and flirtatious banter and instead they got to know each other by taking turns asking questions about one another. It’s almost two in the morning on a week day and their conversation is still going.

@ BigBadWolf Do you accept gifts? I want to send you a gift

@ virginesque ooooh what is it???

@ BigBadWolf You’ll have to be patient and wait until you get it

@ virginesque fine :( u can send them to my PO box

@ BigBadWolf When you get it, I wanna see it in your next stream

@ virginesque oh? no private video just for ur eyes?

@ BigBadWolf You can send me a few pictures ;)

@ virginesque cant wait :D

@ BigBadWolf Goodnight babygirl, it was nice chatting with you

@ virginesque night! ♡♡

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

Almost every day since the mystery man said he’s gonna send her a gift, she’s been checking her P.O. box on the way home from school. She’s gotten mail from her subscribers before, but it was usually weird stuff like disgusting fantasies about her, cumsocks, and other depraved things. But she knows her mystery man is nothing like those weirdos, which is why when there’s finally something in her P.O. box, she’s excited.

As soon as she gets to her apartment she tears open the box and inside is a package from an expensive lingerie company. She tears open the package and inside is a quarter cup bra in a sheer white color with little flowers embroidered on it and a matching g-string. She hurries to the bathroom and changes into it. The bra doesn’t cover anything and even if it did, you could see right through it. What surprises her most is how perfectly each garment fits. She puts on some natural looking makeup before standing before the full length mirror in her bedroom. With her phone, she snaps a few pictures, each one a different pose.

@ virginesque sent 6 attachments

@ virginesque u like?

@ BigBadWolf Wow, it fits you perfectly. You look so fuckin sexy

@ virginesque thanks, i love it ♡

@ virginesque im gonna go start my stream now, maybe we can call after ??

@ BigBadWolf Can’t wait :)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

“You looked so sexy on that stream, doll,” her mystery man compliments. This video call is a lot like their first one. Neither one of them showing their faces with only their bodies in the camera’s frame.

“Don’t I always?”

“Of course you fuckin’ do. Every picture you send me tightens my pants.”

She giggles, smiling like a fool, but luckily he can’t see that.

“I wish I could be there to help you out. I’d let you fill any hole you wanted.”

He frees his cock from his sweatpants and from what she can see he doesn’t have any underwear on.

“What else would you let me do?” he asks, his hardened dick in his large hand.

“Hmmm, I’d be wearing a cute little dress with nothing underneath…”

“I’d never be able to keep my hands off you.” His hand begins pumping his achingly hard cock.

“And I wouldn’t want you to. I’d let you take me whenever and wherever you want. Over my kitchen counter, the backseat of a car, the back of a movie theater, anywhere.”

He lets out a grunt as he urges himself to his peak. “I’d love to fuck you on my motorcycle.”

“You have a motorcycle? You just got even hotter.”

“Sure do. I’d be happy to take you for a ride sometime.” He curses as he increases the speed of his hand, successfully making himself cum.

“I…I know it’s all just dirty talk and fantasies, but would you really wanna take me for a ride?” she shyly asks.

He pauses for a second, but the anxiety she feels during that pause makes it feel like an eternity.

“I…I mean, yeah of course, baby, I’d love to,” he stammers.

“M-maybe if we do…we can make all these fantasies reality,” she seductively suggests.

“You are getting me hard all over again just thinking about it. I know you live in Virginia since that’s where your P.O. box is and lucky for you, I do, too.”

“I’ll text you my favorite restaurant and we can meet there!”

“How’s this weekend sound?”

“I’ll be there in my little dress with nothing underneath.”

“And I’ll be there ready to take it off.”

“Five o’clock?”

They agree on the time before wishing each other a good night and ending the call.

Saturday felt like it took forever to get here, but when it finally did she started to feel nervous. She stands in front of her closet and looks at the few dresses she has. Deciding on a lavender colored mini sundress, she upholds her promise to her mystery man and wears nothing underneath. She even paints her nails and does her hair and makeup nicely. The reality of the situation dawns on her. She’s really about to meet up with a random man she met online, but for some reason, she trusts him. He’s nothing like the weirdo fans that have sent her weird shit or left creepy, almost threatening comments on her posts and streams. He’s charming, generous, and has a huge dick. What more could she ask for?

It’s a quarter til five once she gets to the restaurant since she likes to be early. She grabs a table by the window and sends him a message telling him that she’s here and sitting by a window. Someone calling her name causes her to flinch and look up from her phone.

“Coach Negan? What’re you doing here?” she asks rudely.

“It’s a goddamn restaurant. I’m obviously here to eat.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Okay, whatever, bye.” she shoos him away with her hand and pulls out her phone to text the mystery man and ask where he is. He texts back that he’s here and asks where she is. She replies by telling him what she’s wearing. Coach Negan comes back over to her table, but this time he looks shocked and pale. He sits at the table, across from her and looks her in the eyes.

“You…you’re not virginesque…are you?” he asks dryly.

As she looks into Negan’s hazel eyes, it feels like her entire world came crashing down around her. Her stomach turns into knots and she’s not hungry anymore.

“Y-you’re big bad wolf!?” she says shakily. Tears prick at her eyes due to the realization that the mystery man she’s been crushing on is her mean track and field coach.

He sighs and runs a hand over his face. “Holy fuckin’ shit.” He holds his head in his hands and refuses to look at her. She can’t look at him, nor can she hold back her tears. At the sound of her sniffling, Negan looks up at her.

“I can’t believe my coach has seen me naked,” she sobs.

“This isn’t easy for me either. My student has seen my penis!”

“Why didn’t you tell me it was you!” she asks incredulously.

“I didn’t know you were you!” he argues.

“Oh my god, I’ve masturbated in front of you…to you! I…I’ve sent you nudes a-and videos,” she cries into her hands.

“I’ve sent you dick pics and thousands of fucking dollars!” he bemoans.

Through their bickering, neither of them notice the waiter approach. “Hi, my name is Tyler and I’ll be your server for tonight,” he places menus, napkins and silverware on their table, “Can I get y’all started with anything to drink?”

“Not now, Tyler!” she shouts between sobs. He looks at her, offended, before walking off.

The atmosphere is incredibly and awkwardly tense. Now, Negan has not only seen her naked, but he’s also seen her cry. That man she met on her live stream was nothing like Coach Negan and to see that they’re the same person almost makes her nauseous. Coach Negan is a mean, foul mouthed dick who makes her contemplate dropping out of track and field every time she goes to practice. Her mystery man is caring, charismatic, a gentleman even.

“Look,” he says, grabbing her attention, “I know this is weird as shit for you because it’s weird for me, too. But the attraction we felt to each other was fuckin’ real.” The more she hears him speak, the stupider she feels for not realizing how similarly he and the mystery man spoke.

“Yeah,” she agrees, “and I appreciate all the money you’ve sent.”

He sighs as if he doesn’t want to say what he’s about to say, but says it anyway. “And I do enjoy our late night chats and video calls.”

“Me too. Talking with you was my favorite part of the day,” she admits, trying not to cry again.

“I don’t want this to end just because we already knew each other,” he confesses.

She looks away from him and down at the table, nervously biting her lip. “But you hate me and I’m not the hugest fan of you either. How could we possibly not end this?”

“I do not hate you. You only know me when I’m your coach. Outside of that, I promise you I am the man you’ve been talking to.”

She mulls over his words for a moment before taking a chance and letting her worries go. “Good, because I really like him.”

Negan waves the waiter over and they order their food. The atmosphere is less awkward when the food comes and she’s starting to feel comfortable with him being Negan. They finish eating and he covers the bill.

“Y’know I wasn’t kidding about takin’ you out on my motorcycle,” he tells her with a smirk on his face as they walk out the restaurant. She follows beside him as he takes her to his motorcycle.

“Wow, it’s nice,” she comments unsurely.

“What’s wrong? I thought you wanted me to take you for a ride?”

“I do, it’s just that I also wasn’t kidding about wearing a little dress with nothing underneath…”

He stops in his tracks and turns to look at her. His hazel eyes scan her body and a smirk spreads across his face, bringing attention to his dimples.

“You are way sexier in person,” he compliments, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He takes off his leather jacket and ties it around her waist.

“We won’t go too far, so that should hold you over.” He puts a helmet on her head before putting one on himself. She gets on the bike behind him and he grabs her arms and wraps them around his waist.

“Hold on tight, baby.”

He takes off, causing her to hold him even tighter. She watches the scenery pass by as he drives by the coast. The full moon shines beautifully over the ocean as the waves crash along the sandy shore and it soothes her. He stops at an overlook that has an even better view of the beach and climbs off the bike and takes off his helmet before helping her off. She unties his jacket from around her waist and hands it to him, but instead of putting it on, he drapes it over her shoulders, which she's grateful for considering the cool weather.

"Wow, you really are different when you're not coaching," she teases. He lets out a laugh and wraps his arm around her shoulders and guides her to overpass' railing so they can get a better look at the view. She watches the waves and Negan stands behind her, watching the scenery too. He hugs her around her shoulders, holding her close to his chest. It's an oddly intimate position for people who just met, but when she's not thinking of him as Coach Negan, it feels right.

"Any other fantasies you wanted to live out tonight?" he whispers in her ear. The feeling of his facial hair and soft lips brushing against the shell of her ear sends tingles down her spine. With his teeth, he gently nips at her ear before pulling away. She turns around to face him and smiles seductively.

“If I remember correctly,” she bites her lip and slides her hands up his chest before holding onto his broad shoulders, “you said you wanted to fuck me on your motorcycle.” His tongue seductively swipes across his bottom lip before a smirk grows across his face. His big hands slide down her body before cupping her ass.

“Oh, baby, I was hopin’ you’d say that.”

“Really? Even after you found out I’m the girl you were talking to?”

“Doll, even before I found your cam girl account, I always thought you were undeniably sexy.”

Warmth spreads across her face at his admission, even though it contradicts the way he treated her during games and practices.

"Yeah? Well, I can't say I'm disappointed to find out someone as good looking as you is my mystery man," she flirts back.

He grabs her by the back of her head and pulls her in for a kiss. Having been caught off guard, she gasps, but wraps her arms around his neck and deepens the kiss. His tongue forces its way through her soft lips and she welcomes the intrusion. He picks her up by the backs of her thighs and she reflexively wraps her legs around his waist. She can feel his hard-on through his jeans against her bare pussy, causing her to moan into his mouth. The need to breathe forces her to pull away from him.

“Negan,” she pants, “I want you to touch me, please!”

“Patience, baby,” he urges. She pouts and grips his shoulders tightly as she grinds against his clothed erection. Negan lets out a repressed grunt, suddenly regretting asking her to be patient. He carries her back over to his motorcycle and sets her down. He pulls his jacket off of her and hangs it on the handlebars.

“You look so goddamn delicious in that little dress,” he states as he ogles her.

“Wore it just for you.”

“I can’t wait to unwrap my present.” A cheeky, dimpled smile lights up across his face as he unzips the back of her dress and peels it off of her body, revealing her naked body to him. Eagerly, she undoes his belt, then his jeans, then pulls his hard cock from his boxers.

“Wow, it looks bigger than it did on video call.”

“Just wait til you feel it filling that pretty little pussy.” He sits on the seat of the bike and pats his lap.

“Wanna ride me on my motorcycle,” he jokes. Her eyes drop to his cock before smiling up at him and eagerly nodding.

“Go grab a condom out of my jacket pocket.” She does as he says and hands the condom to him to which he rolls it on. Excitement had filled her mind up until this very moment because now nervousness is taking over. He helps her climb onto his lap and positions her over his dick. He teases her slick folds with his tip, causing her to tighten her grip on his shoulders. Her heart pounds wildly in her chest once she feels him line his tip up with her entrance.

“You okay?” he asks, his hazel eyes filled with concern. The tense look on her face didn't go unnoticed by him.

“Y-yeah.”

“Baby, we don’t have to do this.”

“No! No, I want to. It…It’s just that this is my first time.”

He pauses and rubs a hand over his face. She can’t read his expression as he stares into her eyes.

“You’re a fuckin’ virgin?”

“Uh, yeah? It’s kinda in my username on the cam girl site.”

“Yeah, but it’s virginesque, which kinda implies that you’re not really a virgin,” he explains.

“I know, that’s the point.”

“I don’t get it…”

“Well, I’ve never had sex before, but with all the toys I’ve used and stuff I’ve done as a cam girl, I don’t really feel like a virgin."

“Oh my fuckin god,” he sighs as he urges her to get up. She grabs her dress from off the ground and puts it back on as Negan fixes his pants. Her heart’s still racing, but this time, instead of awaiting Negan’s dick, she’s waiting for his next words.

“I-is that a problem‽”

“Kinda, yeah. I can’t fuck a virgin on my bike at an overpass in the middle of the fuckin night. Isn’t your first time supposed to be special and with someone you love or some shit like that?”

“Well what if this is how I wanna have my first time?”

“There’s better ways!” He argues.

“Like what?”

The look in his eyes is dark as a smirk spreads across his face. He steps closer to her, his tongue salaciously gliding across his bottom lip. He leans down to whisper in her ear, his lips gently brushing against the shell.

“What if I fucked you on your livestream. Showed all those pathetic excuses of men you have for viewers that their tiny little cocks could never please you the way I can. Show them that I’m the first man to ever fuck you.”

Her face blooms with heat and her stomach flutters at his words. She was afraid he was going to completely turn her away, but instead he embraced it.

part 3 ➢

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan x reader #negan fanfiction #negan smith #fanfic #jdm #negan #negan smith x reader #twd fanfiction #twd negan #negan x reader smut #coach negan

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qqueenofhades · 5 months ago

Note

do you have any advice for those in the very early stages of thesis-writing? currently desperately clinging to the mantra of "shitty first drafts," et al

Unfortunately, there is no place where you will more whole-assedly have to embrace the "shitty first draft" mantra than in academic writing, especially in thesis writing, especially if this is your first-ish crack at an advanced and major piece of original research. I'm not sure if this is for an undergraduate senior thesis, a MA-level thesis, or (my true and heartfelt sympathies) a PhD dissertation, but the basic principles of it will remain the same. So there is that, at least. This means that yes, you will write something, you may even feel slightly proud of it, and then you will hand it into your supervisor and they will more or less kindly dismantle it. You have to train yourself to have a thick skin about this and not take it as a personal insult, and if your supervisor is remotely good at their job (not all of them are, alas) they will know how to be tactful about it and not make it feel like a direct and extensive commentary on your private worth as a person. But you will have to swallow it and do what you can, which can include -- if you're the one who has done the research and know that's how you want to present it and/or you are correct about it -- pushing back and having a conversation with them about how you think your original approach does work best. But that will come later. The first step is, yes, to mentally gird yourself to receive critical feedback on something that you have worked hard on, and to understand that no matter how much you grump and grumble and deservedly vent to your friends and so on, implementing the feedback will usually make your piece better and stronger. That is the benefit of working with a trained expert who knows what makes a good piece of research in your particular academic field, and while it doesn't get easier, per se, at least it gets familiar. Be not afraid, etc.

If you're in the writing stage, I assume that you've moved past the topic-selection and general-research stage, but allow me to plump once more the services of your friendly local university library. You can (or at least you can at mine and probably in any decently well-equipped research university) schedule a personal consultation with an expert librarian, who can give you tips on how to find relevant subject databases, create individual research guides (these might already be available on the university library website for classes/general topics), and otherwise level you up to Shockingly Competent Research Superhero. So if you're still looking for a few extra sources, or for someone else who might be reading this and is still in the "how the heck do I find appropriate and extensive scholarly literature for my thesis??" stage, please. Go become a Research Ninja. It's much easier when you have a minion doing half the work for you, but please do appreciate and make use of your university librarian. It's much more effective than haphazard Google Scholar or JSTOR searches hoping to turn up something vaguely relevant (though to be fair, we all do that too), and it's what your tuition dollars are paying for.

Next, please do remind yourself that you are not writing the whole thesis in one go, and to break it down into manageable chunks. It usually does make sense to write the whole thing semi-chronologically (i.e. introduction, lit review, chapter 1, chapter 2/3/4 etc, conclusion), because that allows you to develop your thoughts and make logical connections, and to build on one piece to develop the next. If you're constantly scrambling between chapters and zig-zagging back and forth as things occur to you, it will be harder to focus on any one thought or thread of research, and while you might get more raw output, it will not be as good and will require more correction and revision, so you're not actually hacking yourself into increased productivity. You should also internally structure your chapters in addition to organizing your overall thesis, so it makes sense to draw up a rough outline for section A, section B, section C within the body of a single chapter. This will make you think about why the segues are going in that order and what a reasonably intelligent reader, who nonetheless may not have the specialized knowledge that you are demonstrating for them, needs to move understandably from one section to the next.

Some academics I know like to do an extensive outline, dumping all their material into separate documents for each chapter/paper and kneading and massaging and poking it into a more refined shape, and if that works for you -- great! I'm more of the type that doesn't bother with a ton of secondary outlines or non-writing activity, since that can lead you away from actually writing, but if you need to see the fruit of your research all together in one place before you can start thinking about how it goes together, that is also absolutely the way that some people do it. Either way, to be a successful academic writer, you have to train yourself to approach academic writing in a very different way from fun writing. You do fun writing when you have free time and feel inspired and can glop a lot of words down at once, or at least some words. You do it electively and for distraction and when you want to, not to a set timeline or schedule, and alas, you can't do this for academic writing. You will have to sit your ass down and write even when you do not feel like writing, do not feel Magically Inspired, don't even want to look at the fucking thing, etc. I have had enough practice that I can turn on Academic Writing Brain, sit down, bang something out, sit down the next day and turn on Academic Editing Brain, go over it again, and send it off, but I have been in academia for uh, quite a while. The good news is that you can also automate yourself to be the same way, but the bad news is that it will take practice and genuine time invested in it.

As such, this means developing a writing schedule and sticking to it, and figuring out whether you work best going for several hours without an interruption, or if you set a timer, write for a certain time, then allow yourself to look at the internet/answer texts/fuck around on Tumblr, and then make yourself put down the distraction and go back to work for another set period of time. (I am admittedly horrible at putting my phone away when I should be doing something else, but learn ye from your wizened elders, etc.) You will have to figure out in which physical space you work best, which may not be a public coffee shop where you can likewise get distracted with doing other things/chatting to friends/screwing around on the internet/doomscrolling/peeking at AO3, and to try to be there as often as possible. It might be your carrel in the library, it might be your desk at home, it might be somewhere else on campus, but if you can place yourself in a setting that tells your brain it's time to work and not look at WhatsApp for the 1000th time in a row, that is also beneficial.

Finally, remember that you do not have to produce an absolutely world-beating, stunningly original, totally flawless and perfect piece, even in its final form. Lots of us write very shitty things when we're starting out (and some of us, uh, still write very shitty things as established academics), and you do not have to totally redefine your entire field of study or propose a groundbreaking theory that nobody has heard of or anything like that. A lot of academic work is small-scale and nuanced, filling in spaces on the margins of other things or responding or offering a new perspective on existing work, and it's best to think of it as a conversation between yourself and other scholars. They have said something and now you're saying something back. You don't need to be so brilliant that everyone goes ZOMGZ I HAVE NEVER HEARD OF THAT BEFORE; by its nature that happens very rarely and is usually way out on a limb (extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, etc); you just need to continue the dialogue with a reasonably well-constructed and internally plausible piece. So if you think of it that way, and understand that a shitty first draft will usually develop into something that is good and valuable but not SHOCKING NEW REVELATION clickbait hype, you will take some of the pressure off yourself and be more able to shut up that perfectionist voice in your head. However, all of us have some degree of imposter syndrome and it never entirely goes away, so you'll have to manage that too. Etc etc as before, it doesn't vanish altogether, but it gets easier.

And last but not least, though I'm sure I don't have to say this: for the love of fuckin' god, do not use ChatGPT. Even the genuinely shittiest paper in the world that you still worked on researching, organizing, and writing with your own brain is better than that. Trust me.

#babeydoll #ask #school stuff #academia: not even once

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unabashegirl · 6 months ago

Text

Enticing 50 — harry ceo

Harry, a private billionaire and devoted father, hires Y/N as his son's nanny. Her kindness stirs unexpected feelings. Will love overcome his guarded life, a jealous girlfriend, and the mystery of Oliver's mother?

Author's note: Hi everyone, I need your help. I’m $1,000 short on my medical tuition, and the deadline is January 13. With 2,800 followers, even $1 from some of you could make a huge difference. If you’ve enjoyed my writing, please consider donating or sharing. I'M DESPERATE. PLEASE HELP ME! HELP ME HELP MY MOM! I don't know what else I can do.

⭐️ Please consider donating here --> Ko-Fi

⭐️ Or joining my Patreon --> Patreon

Every bit helps! Even if it's just a dollar!

--> enticing masterlist <---

Y/N and Delilah's relationship had once been close and unstrained. They shared a tight bond growing up, and even when Y/N went off to college, they remained connected. Y/N would frequently pick up Delilah, and they would spend time together in the city, especially when Elizabeth, their mother, was occupied. However, the dynamics shifted dramatically during a Christmas break when Y/N stayed over for the holidays.

On a particular day, Y/N woke up later than usual, unconcerned due to being on vacation. Initially, the house felt empty, with her mother leaving a note in the kitchen explaining that she had gone out to handle something at the office. The note also requested Y/N to wake up Delilah if she was still in bed and to start defrosting the chicken for Christmas dinner.

She followed her words with precision, fetching the chicken and arranging it on a tray before ascending the stairs to awaken Delilah. As she approached Delilah's door down the hallway, the sound of giggling reached her ears, indicating that Delilah was already awake. Nonetheless, Y/N proceeded to enter her room. Since childhood, it had been a customary practice for either of them to join the other in bed upon waking, sharing a moment to cuddle and watch a show.

However, everything took a stark turn when Y/N walked into Delilah's room only to find her engaged in drug use with her boyfriend. It wasn’t marijuana, but Y/N could tell that they were doing pills and cocaine for the tiny residue of white powder on her nightstand.

Y/N was furious, unable to believe what her eyes had witnessed. Swiftly, she ushered Delilah's boyfriend out of the house, delivering stern words to her sister. Despite Y/N's attempt to approach the situation with politeness and understanding, Delilah's primary concern was the potential revelation to their mother. It was clear – Y/N had to inform their mother, Elizabeth, to put a stop to the escalating situation.

Without a second thought, Y/N disclosed everything when her mother arrived through the front door. However, Elizabeth's unexpected reaction caught Y/N off guard. She vehemently denied every allegation, as if she had witnessed the entire incident firsthand.

In a state of denial, Elizabeth refused to believe Y/N's account. To her, Delilah, though not perfect, had been raised in the same manner as Y/N. The accusations seemed like a fabrication.

As tensions escalated with everyone shouting, Y/N pointed out that Elizabeth's leniency toward Delilah was a ticking time bomb. This declaration led to Y/N being expelled from the house, a decision she agreed with for the best.

Months later, Elizabeth received a call from the school reporting that Delilah had passed out due to drugs found in her system. Faced with the possibility of her daughter being expelled and the embarrassment of a doctor's visit, Elizabeth took drastic measures. She forbade Delilah from seeing her boyfriend and imposed stricter rules.

"You get to live here with your boyfriend while I'm not allowed to see mine. How is that fair?" Delilah cried in front of both her mother and sister.

"My boyfriend doesn't use drugs, Delilah. It's as simple as that," she calmly stated, her hands gently caressing her tummy.

"That's bullshit! I should have a say in who I can date or not. Both of you are just assholes," she shouted, tears streaming down her face. Elizabeth, about to respond, was interrupted by Y/N, who pressed her hand against Delilah's shoulder.

"Calm down. This isn't your home and stop yelling at us. When you turn eighteen, you are free to do whatever you please. If you want to leave home and move in with him, then go ahead; we won't stop you. You are still seventeen and under Mom's guardianship. Grow up," Y/N dryly said, tired of the conversation already. She felt like she was talking to a wall.

"Now, go to sleep," Elizabeth added, earning a slamming door to their faces. "I am sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to cause trouble or bring it into your home."

"Mom, this has nothing to do with you. She is just being a brat. Eventually, she'll realize that what we did was just to help her and with the best intentions." Elizabeth nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. She felt embarrassed, and it was a relief to finally have someone on her side after more than a year of constant struggle. "Now, get some sleep. I love you," Y/N smiled, kissing the top of her head.

The journey to Anguilla proved to be quite arduous, especially for Y/N, who, being pregnant, found the nearly five-hour flight exceptionally uncomfortable. However, as soon as they set foot on Anguilla, the exhaustion seemed to dissipate in the face of the island's breathtaking beauty.

Anguilla, cradled in the warm embrace of the Eastern Caribbean, mesmerized with its awe-inspiring charm. Endless stretches of pristine white-sand beaches unfolded, caressed by the gentle touch of the turquoise Caribbean Sea. Palms swayed gracefully in the balmy breeze, orchestrating a natural symphony in the serene surroundings. Beneath the crystal-clear waters, vibrant coral reefs beckoned for exploration, revealing a mesmerizing array of marine life. Quaint villages dotted the landscape, their colorful buildings adorned with bougainvillea, creating a postcard-worthy scene against the azure sky.

Y/N successfully persuaded Harry to opt for a resort instead of renting out an extravagant mansion for their week-long babymoon. She even convinced him to choose a regular suite over a presidential one. Initially resistant, Harry relented when Y/N expressed her desire for a tranquil and ordinary babymoon, and he, in his eagerness to give her the world, agreed to her wishes.

"Thank you for choosing to stay with us, Mr. and Mrs. Styles. We're delighted to have you here, and we hope you thoroughly enjoy your time," the receptionist warmly greeted them, handing over their electronic keys. Harry offered a quiet acknowledgment before intertwining their hands, leading Y/N towards the elevators.

As the elevator doors closed, sealing them in a private moment, Y/N couldn't help but question the unexpected title bestowed upon her. "Mrs. Styles? Really?" she queried, her curiosity peeking through. It marked the first time she had been addressed as such, and she pondered whether it was a deliberate decision by the receptionist or an innocent oversight. The realization struck her—she liked the sound of it, even though they weren't married or engaged. It carried a certain charm that resonated within her.

"What?" Harry responded, arching his eyebrow with a mischievous smile playing on his lips. A nonchalant shrug followed. "I didn't feel like correcting the man. He was just doing his job."

Y/N couldn't help but tease him, "You usually love correcting people. What's different about this scene?" Harry chuckled, shaking his head at her. "Was it intentional or a mistake?"

"Don't worry about it," Harry reassured her, sealing his response with a kiss on the top of her head and a brief peck on her lips just as the elevator doors opened to reveal their floor. "I'm starving. Let's grab some food and head to the beach."

After a quick shower to refresh themselves, Y/N and Harry headed down to the restaurant. Y/N had chosen a white bikini beneath a sandy-colored beach dress, her hair pulled up into a bun to combat the effects of the hot weather. Harry opted for a loose button-down shirt and swim trunks.

As they settled at a table overlooking the ocean, the cool breeze from the sea kept them refreshed. Y/N perused the menu, sharing, "I'm craving a cold fruity drink. The Benedict eggs sound good." When met with silence, she looked up to find Harry gazing at her with an affectionate expression.

"What?" she inquired, lifting her sunglasses so their eyes could connect.

"Nothing. I just love you endlessly," Harry confessed, his gaze lingering. "And you're glowing with your pregnancy."

Nervously, Y/N ran a hand across her pregnant tummy, savoring the habitual connection with her unborn daughter. The gentle movements beneath her fingers served as a comforting anchor, grounding her in the reality of impending motherhood. The uncertainty of what kind of parent she would be lingered in her thoughts. Y/N desired a close relationship with her daughter yet also envisioned instilling the same discipline her father, Harry, embodied.

"I'm nervous. What if she doesn't like me?" Y/N candidly shared her doubts. "What if she hates me and dreads coming home for the holidays because she can't stand me?"

"Darlin', she hasn't even been born. I'm sure she's going to love you just like Oliver does," Harry reassured, a warm smile lighting up his face. "And trust me, nothing can be worse than my parents, and you're nothing like them." He chuckled, attempting to alleviate her concerns with humor.

Before Y/N could utter a word, a disinterested waitress approached to take their order.

"Room number?" The young woman mechanically recited; her lack of enthusiasm evident. Harry exchanged a glance with Y/N, both sensing her disinterest, though neither chose to comment.

"805," Harry replied, "We'd like one watermelon juice, one mango juice, eggs benedict, and French toasts, please."

The waitress, seemingly uninterested until now, finally glanced up from her notepad as she reached for the menus. It was at that moment she noticed Harry.

"Oh, hi!" she exclaimed, instantly drawn to his charm. Harry, unaware of her attraction, offered a kind smile. "Would you like the juices turned into cocktails?"

"I wouldn't," Y/N interjected, feeling uncomfortable with the waitress's persistent gaze.

"Neither would I. I'll be supportive of you," Harry added, emphasizing his decision not to drink in solidarity with Y/N during her pregnancy. He wanted to ensure she didn't feel left out when others enjoyed a drink by the beach.

"Supporting who?" The waitress bluntly asked, catching the couple off guard with her straightforwardness.

"To me. His pregnant girlfriend," Y/N replied with a tinge of bitterness, finally prompting the waitress to acknowledge her presence.

"Oh, right. Sorry. I'll be back with your order," she responded, her gaze momentarily shifting to her stomach before returning to Y/N's displeased expression.

"Look at you marking territory," Harry playfully pointed out, observing the unexpected assertiveness. "I've never seen you so aggressive."

"Shut up," Y/N quickly retorted, putting an end to his teasing. "She was literally asking for it. Kept looking at you as if you were naked." Harry burst into laughter as she continued to pout.

"She is quite perky, isn't she?" The woman from the couple sitting beside them remarked, prompting Harry and Y/N to turn toward them, realizing how close they were to their table. "The waitress," she clarified, noticing their confused expressions.

"Oh, right!" Y/N nodded in understanding. "She clearly wants to be working." The couple chuckled, appearing a few years older than them.

"I'm Paige, and this is my husband, David," she introduced after a brief silence. "We noticed you from the moment you walked into the restaurant. You two are a great-looking couple. It's kind of hard to look away."

"I'm Y/N, and that's Harry. Thank you. That's really sweet," Y/N responded, though she could sense Harry's subtle discomfort with the presence of the other couple.

"Are you two married?" the woman asked, her eyes curious. "I mean, you look very much in love," she clarified.

"No, not yet," Harry responded with a warm smile.

"Better hurry up, buddy. Someone could snatch her right from under your feet," David warned, injecting a touch of humor into the conversation. Y/N felt a sudden unease at the thought, her gaze momentarily shifting to Harry, who chuckled but seemed to share a hint of discomfort.

-> Chapter 51

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beneathashadytree · 11 months ago

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HI GUYS! LONG POST, MAKING A BIG ANNOUNCEMENT OVER HERE! I WILL BE ACCEPTING WRITING COMMISSIONS FOR A COUPLE OF MONTHS, DUE TO THE FACT THAT I LIVE IN EXTREME POVERTY… PLEASE REBLOG!!

Here are my commision prices:

1$-2$ —> an SMAU (depends on length)

5$ —> a drabble (around 500 words)

10$ —> a oneshot (around 1000 words)

20$ or more—> a ficlet (2000-4000 words or more)

What fandoms I’m willing to write for (the ones in bold are the ones I’m best at and hyperfixating on):

Attack on Titan

Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice

My Hero Academia

Haikyuu!!

Jujutsu Kaisen

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure

Moriarty the Patriot

Tokyo Revengers

One Piece

Bungou Stray Dogs

Kuroko no Basket

Ikemen Sengoku

Ikemen Vampire

Ikemen Revolution

Ikemen Prince

Love and Deepspace (my current fav)

How do I request a commission?

Either contact me via my DMs here, or on my Ko-Fi! I’ll be linking my account at the bottom of this post.

What’s the commission format?

Tell me your name or your OC’s name, their gender & pronouns, describe them to me both physically and in terms of personality, then tell me which character you want me to write them with. I’ll be writing “character x reader” or “character x OC” fics, so I need to know what I’m working with! Any extra details will help a lot. Of course, we will discuss everything concerning your commission privately.

If you want to check out my previous works to have a rough idea of how things will look like, be sure to check out my masterlist, which is my pinned post! Of course, my writing improves over time, so it may not be precisely as it is there.

How do I pay you?

You can pay me via my Ko-Fi account, which is linked to my PayPal! Here’s the link to my Ko-Fi.

Please consider helping me out, whether by requesting a commission, or by sharing this post and my links as much as possible!! I’m trying my best to do all I can now that I haven’t got many options left.

As some of you might already know, I’m a dentist, but still at uni. Sadly, studying dentistry is extremely expensive, and I can’t rely on my parents to pay my fees for me for a few reasons.

The first being that my dad is a heart patient, and can’t work anymore. The pension he receives is literally less than the equivalent of 90 dollars. Of course, that doesn’t provide anything in terms of food and living (we usually can only afford a meal or two a day) except for some of his meds—not even all of them. His health is steadily declining.

My mother is extremely narcissistic and very, very abusive. I’ve gone through hell living with her because I have to, but even she can’t even afford to take care of us because no one wants to hire her at her old age, and she’s used up all her savings on my dad.

I’m also physically disabled, and can’t move around often. I also have to have surgeries every now and then because of the chronic illness I have.

I am in serious, dire need of money, both for my tuition fees, and hopefully to be able to live. I have to keep us afloat until I can get married in a couple of years, since I can’t live alone. Besides, my dad doesn’t deserve to suffer with his heart problems.

I tried working with dentistry last year, and that worked for a while, but this year no one’s hiring due to the terrible state of our economy. I have no skills aside from my writing, so that’s what I’ll have to work with. I’m getting seriously desperate, so I hope you guys understand why I’m doing this, and hopefully feel inclined to offer any support you can—even if not financial, but just by reblogging this post!

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mrsjellymunson · 11 months ago

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The Biology Tutor

Independent Study 02: Creative Writing

Series masterlist

Prev: Lesson 1: Female anatomy Lesson 2: Male anatomy Extra Credits 01: Communication skills Extra Credits 02: French Independent Study 01: Art

Next: Lesson 3: Human Reproduction

Pairing: virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader

Series summary: Eddie’s failing Biology class, so you decide to offer two different styles of tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.

Chapter summary: You reflect on your unexpected lunchtime study session.

WC: ~2.2k

C/W: 18+, SMUT, MDNI!! Lots of fantasies and intimate musings… Gracious and copious thanks to @the-unforgivenn for numerous rereads and talking me off the word soup precipice 😉

My masterlist

Thoughts of Eddie have been plaguing you all afternoon. You might as well have skipped classes for all the good your attendance did. You could barely concentrate on what any of your teachers were droning on about, your mind much preferring to conjure all kinds of salacious Eddie-related images.

Once at home you grab yourself a drink, throw your backpack down onto your bed and kick off your shoes, trying to figure out quite how to get that boy out of your head. Might journaling help?

Retrieving your notebook from your nightstand and your favourite pink pen, you flop down onto your front and begin to write.

Initially, you just want to reflect on your day and your unexpected ‘private time’ with Eddie. So you start to make some notes about how well the tutoring part went, how well he did, and yeah, okay, how goddamn cute he looked whenever he got a question right. You ponder why that felt so rewarding. Do you simply like helping people learn? Or is it more because you like being the reason that Eddie smiles?

You write a little about how sweet he was, and his obvious nerves when you first suggested you might kiss. How chaste, almost wholesome, it all started out.

You add more detail, like how his lips felt as they connected with yours, and how it surprised you in the best possible way when he started to kiss you back. You remember how wet and messy everything was. How fucking hot. You scribble honestly about how much you enjoyed kissing him, how much you think he enjoyed kissing you, and how much you want to do it again. And you acknowledge that although it seems peculiar after everything you’ve already done, somehow, what you did today felt so much more… intimate.

You write almost an entire page about how strong but gentle his tongue was, how it felt as it slid into your mouth and around your own. How he started off slow, tentative, but then gained confidence. How, without being instructed, he started turning his head and moving his tongue experimentally, licking and sucking. And, to your delight, how he was getting it right so goddamn much of the time.

You add a little about what else you’d fantasised about Eddie doing with that tongue, but stop yourself before you go too far.

Okay, maybe just another couple of lines…

You write about how he surprised you when one one of his hands gripped the back of your neck and his other had pulled you closer. How that made you appreciate what latent strength might be stored in those wiry muscles. And how you’d wondered about whether it would feel warm if it cupped your face, and how you know the answer now. When he’d gently held the back of your head he was definitely warm, hot even, the heat of him searing into your memories and onto the page. Now, in your notebook, you muse what it would be like for him to touch you like that again, to cup your cheeks, look deep into your eyes. Would you want that? The frenzy with which you're writing suggests that yes, you might.

You mull over what else you’d thought about, like what it would be like to hold his hand. You ponder whether your palms would fit together nicely, and whether you’d be well matched, size-wise. Or would his be larger, swamping you, encompassing you. You think about his hot palm and thick fingers enveloping yours, your sensitive skin so very close. What would it be like to go out in public like this, watching everyone stare as they put the pieces together? Surprisingly, the thought doesn’t freak you out as much as it previously might have.

You note down how he’d whimpered and moaned, and how that made you think about all the ways you want to try to draw more of those beautiful sounds out of him.

You describe how strong and defined the muscles of his back felt. And the size of the bulge in his pants that he was sporting when you pulled away. And add exactly how that made you feel, just to, you know, get it out of your head…

As you spill your innermost thoughts onto the page, you recall how you’d considered the texture of his calloused skin. But this time you allow your imagination free reign as you conjure Eddie’s strong, large hands and the rough feeling of his fingers as he runs them over your thighs, your back, your throat. You write about how much you want to feel them on your breasts, over your ass, in your cunt. How you want him to explore every inch of you, with both your guidance and his experimentation. You want to continue to teach him, of course, but you also want both of you to discover things together.

Then, you write down that question he asked:

“So, uh, where do you want me?”

You describe the heat you’d felt, what it made you want to do, and how you’d vividly imagined taking Eddie in the study room. How much you’d wanted to perch him against the study room table and climb on top of him.

You describe how you’d pictured him, braced against the edge of the table. Shirt off, no pants, boxers discarded somewhere across the room. You wonder how he might look. Would his abs be tensed? Would his hip lines be prominent? How much detail of his tattoos would you be able to make out?

Would he be instantly hard? Or would you be treated to the sight of his cock engorging as you watched, rising to full attention simply from your presence and the heat of your gaze? You imagine observing his pink head filling and swelling, maybe even leaking a little precum that would glisten under the fluorescent lights.

How would he look at you with those deep chocolate eyes? Would he be unsure, timid, nervous? Or would there be a hot hunger behind them, a primal lust that he wants only you to satisfy?

You’d be naked, but would you feel nervous and fold at his gaze, covering yourself and uncomfortable under his scrutiny? Or would you saunter towards him confidently, maybe with a finger at your lips, swaying your hips? Forcing him to wait as your body drifts agonisingly slowly closer and closer.

He might stutter over his words as you moved, babbling nonsense, filled with that delicious combination of fear and want that you find so alluring. Or he could be confident, beckoning you to him, spilling praises and pet names and whispers of adoration.

Would he be too scared to touch you, unsure and not knowing what to do with his hands? Or would he reach out for you and grab at your arm, your hip, your waist, any part of you he could reach, pulling you to him?

How would he smell after a day of physical activity, or even post PT? The aroma of weed, his cologne, that vanilla chapstick that you’re sure he must’ve stolen from someone? Musky, sweaty, masculine? You imagine what it would be like to lick the salt from the sensitive skin of his collarbones and neck, and humming as his heady male taste floods your senses. Would he whimper softly at this, or groan with satisfaction?

You’d definitely kiss him, feeling those soft, plump lips against yours all over again, and slide your tongue into his mouth and sigh as you feel his start to move against yours. Would his confidence soar as you make those pretty noises again, encouraging him to explore further, deeper, harder?

Would you take the lead and lay him down onto the cool tabletop, and spill soothing words as you clamber up over him, gliding your soaking folds over him, drenching him with your abundant arousal? Or would he lie back, pulling you down with him, pressing your chest to his and letting you know just how hard he’s going to fuck you?

You might grasp his thick length, make him whine as you angle his cock at your hole and sink slowly down the length of him, his hands scrabbling to find purchase on the table, whimpering as you take him fully inside you. Or he could hum with approval, telling you how good you are for him, calling you his Princess, gripping your hips with his big hands as he manoeuvres you over his swollen cock, sliding into you from beneath.

You could take it slow and steady, noticing every pull and drag of his impressive member, allowing him to feel every part of your wet heat as you move atop him. Or you could use him, quickly bouncing, his ample girth stretching you as you pivot your hips for your own pleasure, slamming his tip exactly where you need it.

His hands might be soft and loving, gently touching your face and reverently running over your hair as he mumbles sweet things about how beautiful you are, how fucking lucky he is to have you like this. Or he might grip the back of your neck, tangle his fist into your hair, perhaps even hold one thick thumb across your throat, and gruffly huff hot breaths full of obscenities into your ear as he pumps himself in and out of you.

Would he let you take what you want, be your pliant and willing fucktoy? Or would he plant his feet on the table and thrust himself up into you, chasing for your release as much as his own?

Would you angle yourself against his pelvis, feeling the friction of his glossy thatch of dark hair against your clit as you roll and circle? Or might you suck your fingers and move them between you, maybe even push them into his mouth first, before you slide them down, down, between your heaving bodies to your most sensitive bud, drawing circles and lines, your head dropping back as Eddie watches, aghast, feeling you clench around hi- h- h-

Your empty pen scratches the paper, threatening to tear through the delicate pages. Dammit! You fling it aside, and quickly grab another at random. Red this time, the colour of passion. Appropriate…

-around his throbbing length.

Working with more intent, would Eddie watch, mouth agape, practically drooling? Or would he take your lead, replacing your fingers with his own, experimentally touching, circling, pressing? Watching your face contort as his technique improves, his gorgeous dimples popping as he gets it right, both of you nearing your peaks.

Maybe he’d even grab you and lift you from him, bend you over the table and enter you roughly from behind, feral grunts emanating from his chest. And you imagine you’d love every second, even the feel of the edge of the desk digging into the flesh of your thighs.

Whichever position you were in, he’d make you cum, you’re certain of that. But would you be first, spasming around him as he groans with approval? Would he then chase his own release, pummelling your sensitive core and making galaxies erupt behind your eyelids?

Perhaps you’d cum together, Eddie pushing himself impossibly deeper, his intense thrusts repeatedly pushing his fat tip against your special spot, your rippling walls milking him as his hot spend fills you up fuller than you’d ever thought possible. Would he stay inside you, panting, holding you close as he softens and your combined breaths become steady?

You wonder how he’d behave afterwards. Would he help you dress, stroke your hair? Would he dash off to find something to clean you up with? Would he sit with you as you both recover, humming as you cuddle, murmuring sweet, romantic things to each other as his seed leaks out of you onto the hard chairs of the study room?

Would he gently lift your chin, look deep into your eyes, and tell you that he lo—

Panting, sweating and unsure where most of this, let alone that last part, came from, you discard your pen with a clatter and slam your notebook shut, not for the first time wondering whether it’s possible to retrofit a padlock to it just in case anyone you live with decides to get curious.

You’re definitely not feeling calmer. This absolutely hasn’t worked. At all. In fact, you’re more frustrated now than you were before you began writing.

Running a hand slowly over your face, your fingertips pause at your lips, skimming lightly over them. You close your eyes and remember all over again how Eddie’s plush, pink, pillowy lips felt against them just hours ago.

Gently, you open your jaw a little, and run your index and middle fingers over your teeth and across your tongue. Enjoying the sensation, you can’t help but wonder how Eddie’s rough, talented musician’s fingers would feel doing exactly this.

Turning over and flopping back on your pillows, your other hand runs across your belly and over the top of one thigh, and you pause your thumb at the crease of your hip, just able to feel the lacy edge of your panty elastic beneath your clothes.

You glance towards your bedside table, knowing exactly what’s inside that closed drawer. And you seriously contemplate trying a very different form of reflection this evening…

Thanks so much for reading! 💗

I hope you enjoyed seeing what reader got up to whilst Eddie was in the shower 😉

Series masterlist

my masterlist

ETA: Lesson Three is now up!

Taglist Pt 1: @airen256 @bimbotrashcan @urlbitchin @guiltyasquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @rustboxstarr @bl4ckt00thgr1n @bexreadstoomuch @cozmiccass @yujyujj @cluz1babe @thunderg @aysheashea @paleidiot @cadence73 @eddie-munsons-wifey @siriuslysmoking @neville-is-my-husband @aestheticaltcow @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lightcommastix @ungracefularchimedes @spenciesprincess @joejoequinnquinn @freshoutthewomb2 @sunshinepeachx @tlclick73 @hellfirenacht @yourdailymemedelivery @wendyxox @madaboutmunson @80s-addict @skrzydlak @eddiesxangel @bunny7232 @starksbabie @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @abellmunsonmovie @sheneedsrocknroll92 @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @wonderlanddreamer @leatherfaceologist @munson-blurbs @paradisepoisons @lokidokieokie @rcailleachcola @fckyeahlames @kurdtbean

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summer-blues-stuff · 2 years ago

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A culture post for the girlie pops (and non-girlie pops) looking to write Pavitr Prabhakar accurately.

(P.s- I’m Indian and live in India and have been to Mumbai multiple times so shhh- )

(P.s.s- all i know about the spider verse comes from the movies so I’ll be focusing more on the Indian aspect. )

So in honour of atsv coming on Netflix-

FOOD- Pavitr live in Mumbai (mumbattan) so he probability of him eating “butter chicken or naan” (traditionally north Indian dishes) on a daily basis is almost nonexistent. (This is not to say he won’t have them occasionally but much of what people think is indian food comes from stereotypical North Indian food, pavitr lives in South Indian)

Popular food of Mumbai includes- vada pav(street food), panipuri(another street food), pav bhaji (not a street food), bhelpuri and sevpuri( you guessed it a street food) and for more every-day food- we have dal-roti or dal-chawal etc

(Edit: I forgot to mention this but, a lot of people are vegetarian either by choice or by religion and don’t eat meat (eating beef is HEAVILY and i mean heavily frowned upon.)

SCHOOL- In india we don’t have middle school or high school, we have grades.

We also have public and private schools (and unlike the USA, private school is not for the uber rich, middle-class families typically send their kids to private school and government(or public) schools are basically free or really cheap). Thus, Pavitr probably studies at a private school.

Keeping that in mind, Students from grade 1-12 study in one building and students actually sit in the same class while the teachers move from class to class. There is also something called school boards but for all our sakes, he studies in a school that follows CBSE guidelines. Now according to google, he’s around 15-16 so he’s in 10th or 11th depending on the school he goes to.

We have these really important exams called the “board exams” ( we just call them ‘boards’) And they are given twice by the students once in the 10th grade and once in the 12th grade and these are like really really important, kinda think of them as psats or sats(lmk if anyone wants to know more about boards) and if he’s in 10th he’ll be giving the boards in May.

After which he’ll pick a stream (medical, non-medical, commerce or failure) that he’s gonna study in 11th. There is a lot of emphasis on studies in India ( if you get good marks in 10th it’s considered that you’re good or ‘set’ for life but thats kinda bs) and it’s really competitive, students often go to tuition (think of them as an after-school school) for hours after school. Maths and science tuitions are the most common.

Uniforms (a half-sleeve shirt with a tie and pants or knee length shorts for guys) are also mandatory and are strictly regulated along with hair and nails. (Two braid or plaits for girls with below the shoulder hair and typically short hair for guys that have to be oiled) so im assuming that he gets called out a lotttttt about his hair, and teachers are constantly on his ass about cutting it which I think is funny af. The school timings are typically from 8-3 and tuitions are typically from 4-7.

It would also be super-cute if his aunt massaged his hair with oil (it’s considered an act of service and something people do to show their love)

10th grade especially is really really stressful in india and if home-boy cries himself to sleep every night I wouldn’t be surprised. So make him supppeeerrrr strrreeeessssed.

Name- Pavitr “Prabhakar” is a Hindu( a religion of sorts) name.

It’s derived from the Sanskrit word “prabhākara” which means “light maker” (from prabhā 'light' + -kara 'causing'), an epithet of the sun. So to those saying he’s a sunshine boy, his surname means light maker (do with that what you will).

Now, for his first name “Pavitr” however there is no exact meaning as, the name is most probably derived from Pavit ; maybe Pavitra(a typical girl’s name) if you’re pushing it. The meaning of Pavit is Love or A lovely and pious individual.

Edit: apparently pavitr does have it’s own meaning and it means pure

So his name roughly translates to lovely (edit: pure) sunshine boy.

Transport- Now i know that he’s spider-man but when he’s not, the most common way to travel in Mumbai is by an automobile (also called auto or auto-riksha).

One of these things ^^ and these ‘go by the meter’ (you basically pay for the distance you have covered and a meter calculates this.) these things are everywhere. You call for one of these by raising your hand and an auto stops in front of you and you ask if they will take you to the place you wanna go to (“bhaiya, _____ lekar chalo ge?”)

There can only be 3 people max on one auto (not including children) as per local government policies.

Another common way to travel is by the subway or local trains. ( and contrary to popular beliefs they are not filled to the brim with people). Cars are not that common as there is a lot of traffic. Like a lot.

Language- Most indians speak at least 2-3 languages- English, Hindi and a local language or two. Since they’re in Mumbai Pavitr probably speaks Marathi. Some people also know Sanskrit (but that’s not that common nowadays).

(Edit: People typically don’t speak in just one language, they typically use a mix of atleast two or three languages which change according to the region they are in. For example- English and hindi is the most common but some may mix in their regional language or dialect)

Also spider in hindi is makri (makdhi?) so i think it would be super funny if people called him makri (makdhi?) man.

People in India also curse a lot (not in English though) (though not in front of parents obviously) and the more people get angry the stronger accent the becomes.

Housing- housing in Mumbai is super expensive, and most people live in flats or apartments rather than houses, Mumbai is considered to be one of the most expensive places to own a home in the world just because of the sheer number of people there.

All flats in mumbai have air- conditioning units in them because it. is. so. humid and winter lasts for a month or two in comparison.

Culture- Mumbai is kind of regarded as one of the culture hubs of India, a lot of up and coming artists along with famous superstars live in Mumbai. There are a lot of exhibitions, shows and whatnot happening all the time.

Mumbai is also more progressive then the rest of India and pride parades do happen here but there is still a lot of stigma around it

(Edit: PDA in public is almost taboo, doesn’t matter who anyone is—kissing in public might actually land you in jail)

Teens typically wear jeans, shorts and graphic tees rather than kurtas or salwar-kamez (traditional clothing) .

Traditional clothing is typically worn on festivals such as holi( the festival of colour( some people wear white suits and kurtas)) or Mumbai’s most celebrated festival- “Ganesh Chaturti” (which is a religious festival religious festival to honour the Lord Ganesha.

Sports- cricket is the most watched sport in India a lot of kids play it on the streets or in parks and gardens, and its an India vs Pakistan match is an event in which everyone in the family (some even invite friends over) sit together and yell at the tv.

Mumbai is a city in which time stops for no one, and people are super busy. This doesn’t mean that people there are rude in fact they are some of kindest and helpful ppl you’ll ever meet(not including the obligatory rude af asshole that are in every community) especially in a city that never stops.

India is also not a country that lives in rags we used to be called sone ki chidiya (or bird made of gold) before the British Invasion so please for the love of god don’t depict everyone living in slums and poverty. The national currency is rupees and again i cannot stress this enough even though there is poverty in india, that doesn’t mean there isn’t prosperity. India is a developing country so keep that in mind while you write.

Religion and caste - This is a very touchy and sensitive subject in India and you should probably research a lot or stay clear of it in general ( especially the caste system its messed up and just stay clear of it) but Gayatri’s father is Sikh or at least punjabi so I’m assuming she is too. ( if she’s from Punjab or its surrounding area, then she probably speaks punjabi or her father most probably does).

(Edit: there are a lot of different religions in india —almost too many to count— and every single one has their own gods, prayers and rituals so please please please research before you write)

But something all Indian (boys) are taught to do is to touch their elders feet to show/ask for respect (and “ashirwad” I don’t know what this translate too directly in English but think of it as blessings)

Anyways here is a not very brief overview on mumbai and pavitr , let me know if you have any questions or if something isn’t really clear, English isn’t my first language so I apologise for the errors.

Please feel free to ask me anything ill do my best to answer back. : D

if you actually find this long ass post helpful and write a fic or something please tag me i would love to read it.

#atsv pavitr #no one asked for this #but here you go #India #i love him so much #spiderverse pavitr #spiderverse #pavitr prabhakar #culture #mumbai #mumbattan

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