#I can make exceptions for this little one

[tender-rosiey]

hii! I hope youre doing well ^^ n I have a request!

Fatherhood Gojo, Yuta and Suguru (separate) seeing their daughter have a love interest

let’s say the daughter is like 4-5, just started school with a strong start, one day when they come to pick up their kid— they see a boy that’s also 4-5, giving their daughter flowers or something, how would they react?

(I can imagine mother!reader being delighted at the sight, gojo being dramatic, Yuta being stressed out, and Suguru having a polite smile but yet clenching his fist LMFAO)

“I WILL THROW HANDS AT ANYONE EVEN A KID"

— gojo, sukuna, and suguru seeing their five year old daughter with a love interest (f!reader)

a/n: here you go go <33 i am so sorry bae that I couldn't include yuuta 😭

GOJO SATORU:

your daughter is naturally charismatic.

satoru wholeheartedly believes that it is something she has inherited from him.

you disagree because you can’t remember anybody who remained friends with satoru after actually talking to him, aside from those forced to, of course.

now another thing that satoru believes is that said charisma is a double-edged sword. from one side, his daughter is able to make friends quickly which gives him a piece of mind.

on the other side, the thing that makes his vein pop is the fact that filthy dirt-covered boys approach her.

he thought he had solved that problem when he scared away that last kid during her ballet class , but it seems there are always people who are competing for her heart.

he didn’t expect to run into one today though, especially not one blatantly gifting her a bouquet in front of the school gates.

the kid is a blushing mess as he gives the bouquet to her, and your daughter is nothing less than ecstatic. she jumps around, really happy with her bouquet and squealing about how pretty it is.

the little boy smiles timidly as he fidgets with the hem of his shirt, mumbling something that satoru can’t be bothered to care about.

the only things occupying his mind are two: the kid who dares to even speak to his daughter and you with your cute smile because you’re happy for her.

so, he arranges things as he prioritizes him.

he presses one big smooch to your cheek and squishes you in an ever so love-filled hug.

then he proceeds to make his way to deal with the kid who is making moves on his little baby.

he towers behind the boy, and before his little girl greets him, satoru carries the kid from his scruff and throws him in the ball pit conveniently placed beside him.

the kid screams as he falls into the ball-filled abyss.

hurriedly, he gathers his daughter in his arms and showers her with kisses. he nuzzles his nose into her cheek, “how was your day, honey?”

“it was so nice, papa!” she says happily them gets out the bouquet she was given, “and I even got this bouquet!”

“oh, really?” he hums as he takes the bouquet from her hands into his. he inspects it, distaste filling his expression.

you walk to him with a little pep in your step and place your hand around his shoulder, while you kiss your daughter’s cheek.

she squeals a delightful, “mama!” and throws herself into your arms.

you guys quickly get caught in your own conversations, not noticing satoru quickly releasing his technique blue at the poor bouquet making it effectively disappear from existence.

another day saved.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

being the daughter of ryomen sukuna had its perks.

people strayed away and kept their distance. however, your daughter was a natural sweetheart—ironic considering her father but anyway.

that meant that little boys around estate had a tiny little crush on her which they would never act upon since they do want to continue living.

of course, there is an exception to the norm.

and that exception came in the form of a little servant boy presenting your daughter with a bunch of flowers that he had plucked himself.

your daughter was taken back, and she got flustered but accepted the flowers, nonetheless. on the other hand, you were watching from the side lines and were cheering both her and the boy on.

it was an innocent little gesture between kids. no harm done, so there was no need for—

“what the hell is this?”

you feel your husband’s menacing aura, before you hear his words. you turn to him and rest your hands on his chest and say, “d/n got flowers! isn’t that cute?”

“I can see that,” he grumbles, pinching your cheek in annoyance then directing his gaze to the kids, “but why the hell is a little good-for-nothing servant approaching my daughter? in fact, these servants should not be allowed to talk to her so casually.”

“sukuna, it’s not that big of a deal. just let them be,” you huff, “it’s not like she will fall in love with him, and he will convince her to overthrow you when they’re older.”

your husband stays quiet for a few moments. the man looks like he is actually considering the scenario that you just suggested.

and judging by him slowly approaching the kids, sukuna is going to go with the “better safe than sorry” approach.

you quickly run after him and jump on his back, “love, love, I was joking! please don’t kill him!”

sukuna groans, “and why should I listen to you?”

“cause you love me, and I love you? and we’re husband and wife, y’know?” you smile nervously, and he sets you down, so he can look you in the eye.

“I don’t love you,” he states.

“so I don’t love you?” you inquire.

he smirks, “no, that’s different. you’re obviously infatuated by me.”

“no, loving you is an effect of you loving me, so according to you,” you turn your back to him, “I don’t love you.”

he is about to retort when he feels something holding onto his leg. he looks down, and he sees his daughter beaming up at him.

she raises the flowers as high as she could and chirps, “dad, I got these flowers!”

sukuna’s eyes snap to where the kid was and finds no one. he fled, and he didn’t get to memorize his face. he slowly turns his face to you, and you stand there smirking at him.

he quirks an eyebrow at you, “oh? well, I will deal with you later tonight.”

GETO SUGURU:

you were busy watching over your daughter playing with her playdate. the little boy was your neighbour’s son, and, in general, he was good company.

the boy was polite and knew how to treat your little girl right. similarly, your little girl cherishes him very much and always rambles about him at dinner.

now, initially, suguru was okay with it.

he thought that maybe she was excited about her playdate and that it would eventually wear off, but then she started talking about him every single day since she met him.

suguru prides himself on being rational and collected. he wouldn’t stoop down to a level that gojo would. gojo was a manchild, but suguru? suguru is a grown man, a husband, and a father.

so, no, he won’t do anything to the boy.

and he certainly isn’t rushing to the playdate location, so he can stop the boy from making his daughter talk about him more.

one of his curses was watching the kids, and said curse picked up on the boy sneaking a flower behind his back. suguru concluded that he was definitely going to give it to her.

your husband finally arrives, handing you your ice cream and kissing the top of your head, “your ice cream, just how you like it, love.”

“aww, thank you, suguru,” you say as you hug him and pepper his face with kisses. suguru gets lost in your affection, forgetting about his supposed mission.

it’s not until that he notices the boy’s parents standing with the two kids that he remembers it.

“how about we go and see what the kids are up to?” he asks you, a bit urgently, and you nod, knowing what your husband is thinking.

it’s lowkey funny.

the boy’s mother takes notice of you two approaching, “oh hello mr and mrs geto!”

“hello miss c/n! are the kids getting along well?” you smile while patting your daughter’s head.

the mother giggles, “more than well, in fact. our little boy has given little d/n a flower today!”

from the corner of your eye, you can see your husband’s smile tighten and his face get stiffer and stiffer by the second.

you take his hand into your own and slowly rub it with your thumb. it does little to calm him down.

he claps his hand lightly and steps in front of the parents and says kindly, “please take your little shi—”

he feels you kick his foot from the back and quickly corrects his wording, “please distance your ki—”

you discreetly stomp on his foot, and he tries his hardest to keep his smile. he sighs defeated and hangs his head low, defeated as he mumbles, “have a nice day.”

you nod in satisfaction, and your daughter giggles.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo imagine #jjk imagines #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you

[erwinsvow]

would rafe ever let reader wear his rings? idk that’s just so hot and i feel like rafe would be the type 😭

godd pussy started doing jumping jacks!! your brain>>

curled up next to rafe, still sweaty and sticky all over but not even close to tired, you trace patterns on his skin with your fingers. it's quiet in tannyhill except for the two of you breathing.

you thought rafe must be deep in thought the way he's gone so quiet, but when you look up from your position to see what he's doing or if, unsurprisingly, he's fallen asleep, you catch him staring right at you.

flustered, face warm, you press back against his chest, blinking fast. your fingers continue their path, now on his forearm, drawing little hearts and hoping he doesn't realize. you go further, all the way to his hand, and though you've been in this position a million times, do this or something similar almost every night, it feels different for some reason.

you run your fingers down the back of his land, looping around his fingers. they catch around his rings, and you move your own hand away when rafe stops you, grabbing your hand and keeping it in place.

"sorry," you let out quietly, wondering if he decided he didn't like the feeling. though you're still held in place against his body, you don't need to see him in order to know he's staring down at you, the way he always does, with the look that makes your heart thud so fast you can hear it in your ears.

"stop apologizin'," he murmurs, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead. he keeps your hand next to his, and you can't help yourself, pressing your palm flat against his.

"your hands are big," you comment, liking the way the two of you are touching everywhere right now—legs entangled and palms together. he doesn't say anything, doesn't have to. rafe moves your hand, holding it next to his, using his other to slip his rings off.

without any words at all, he slips one of them, his golden signet, onto your ring finger. helplessly big, it falls down to the knuckle. if you move an inch, it would fall off. the other ring falls onto your index finger. you extend your hand, admiring how they look on you.

"too big, rafe," you say it with a laugh, not able to hold it back any longer.

"shit. lemme see." rafe takes your hand, holding it a little out and then closer. "jus' a little bit. looks good on you though."

"all your stuff looks good on me," you breathe out, suddenly feeling like there's no air left in your lungs. rafe just slipped his own ring onto your ring finger, your left ring finger. words and thoughts leave you, focused on nothing but rafe.

"that's right. don't worry, kid, i'll get you one that fits soon enough."

your heart beats even faster, realizing what he means. you smile up at him.

"i don't want a new one. i just want yours."

the next morning, there's a pretty chain and his golden ring waiting for you on the nightstand. both of you know that once you put it on, it's never coming off.

#eee i need him so bad #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #feels like shy reader but could be any of them

[wosoamazing]

Rescue

Barça Femeni x Teen!Reader (Mainly Alexia)

Based off of this request. (And also vaguely off of Lauren Daigle's song - more so just the title, but it kind of under lays the fic I guess.)

WARNINGS: Attempted Sexual Assault References (flack backs), Abusive Father (physical and emotional), drinking/drunk, slight mentions of implied sick (doesn't happen). Let me know if anything else

The team were always suspicious about your home life and what it was actually like but you always brushed them off when they questioned and no one had tried to push further until recently.

“Y/N, we missed you last night, what happened?” Lucy asked you as she walked in, most of the team following behind her.

“Oh, sorry I was going to message but I must’ve forgotten, I felt a little sick so I thought it was best to stay home,” you told them, causing Alexia to move towards you with her hand out, which you dodge, “but I’m fine now,” you smiled at your captain and she gave you a fake smile back.

That was far from the truth but you didn’t want to tell them what happened. You were in your room making some finishing touches before you left to go out with them, when one of your Dad’s friends had walked into your room, you thought you had locked your door but you must’ve forgotten. He walked up behind you and his body was pressed against yours before he slinked his hand up under your dress and brushed his hand over your upper thigh. You snapped around and punched him before you ran, you could hear him yelling at you afterwards, and you Dad yelling at him, but all you could do was run, and to the safe place you knew no one would come looking for you. Thanking the heavens above that Jona somehow gave you a pass that meant you could go to the training grounds at all times. You quickly got changed into your training kit and took off your makeup before setting an alarm on your phone and falling asleep on one of the couches.

That day during treatment you flinched every time one of the physios touched you, and when he moved his hand up to your thigh you felt your body tense up and your breath becoming laboured, when he applied pressure to start working you bolted straight out of the room, the touch bringing back all the feelings from the night before. You found yourself in a room, full of your teammates, who all worried over but when you finally calmed back down they all left except for one, your captain. Who gave you a pointed look as you made contact with her eyes.

“I’m fine” you reiterated to her for probably the 100th time that hour.

“You know you can talk to us anytime, about anything,” Alexia reassured you.

“Si, I do, but I don’t need to because I’m fine,” she gave you a very unconvincing nod before walking out, leaving you to be by yourself. The team knew you weren’t fine. You constantly showed up to training with bruises that were slightly too dark or too big to be caused by whatever your excuse had been that time, but you were clumsy so they never really questioned it. However Alexia had kept a mental note of when they happened and what your excuses were and she couldn't help but see that there was a pattern. Then there was the incident last week when you were calling some of them and your Dad started yelling at you, and calling you names. You tried to convince them that it was because he had tripped over because you had left your boots and bag and other stuff all over the floor which caused him to stub his toe, however they all felt that it was a very poor excuse to yell at your child in such a way but you just brushed them off.

One week later you found yourself laying on a yoga mat in the gym, you were flat on your back as you stared straight up at the ceiling. Alexia had come over and placed a mat down next to yours, she didn't say anything but just laid there next to you on her back, as the team filtered out to go to the pitch for training neither of you made an effort to move. 

Several different thoughts ran through your head as you laid there next to her for quite some time. You were having an internal battle in your head of whether you opened up to her or not, maybe she would help, maybe this wasn’t normal. But maybe she would tell you it was your fault, you had a short dress on that night, that was slightly slutty, were you asking for it? Had you deserved all of it, all the yelling, the hitting.

“He-he, tried to touch me,” you blurted out, one side of the fight winning, your words caused her to bolt straight up, sitting crossed legged on her mat facing you.

“Who did? Your Dad?” she asked.

“No one of his friends,” you said, shaking your head.

“Did he?” she asked, concerned. “No, not really, I mean he put his hand up my dress, he was leaning forward into me and he touched my thigh, but I quickly moved away from him and punched him and ran, while I was running he was saying something about reporting me for hitting him, but I don’t think he did because I could hear Dad saying something about them finding out if he did because the police would show up to the house,” you said as tears started to flow out of your eyes.

“Find what out?” Alexia asked, confused, wondering what had been happening.

“That he abuses me, they would see the holes in the walls from where he would try and punch me but miss, the shattered mirror that I glued back together, it smashed because he threw it at me, but they wouldn’t see the emotional things, they would only see the physical things. The name calling, the swearing, they couldn’t see that, it would be his word against mine,” you continued as your shoulders started to shake as your cries turned into harsh heavy sobs, “I’m sorry,” you cried out as you rolled over onto your stomach, head resting in your arms as a puddle formed on the underneath you.

“Oh Nena,” Alexia sighed as she went to place a hand on your back, “please don’t touch me,” you asked and she obeyed, quickly retracting her arm, “b-but, please, s-stay” you hesitantly asked her. You felt broken, like there was something wrong with you, how didn’t you notice it wasn’t normal. You thought you had a broken home but at the same time, you never spoke about it so maybe everyone had a broken home and just didn’t talk about it, but since being at Barça you slowly started to realise that what was happening in your home wasn’t normal and wasn’t okay, but it was normal to you, to you being called an idiot, or a stupid bitch was normal, being told you were too lazy or not good enough was normal, being scared to take a step in your own home was normal. Constantly living on the edge and not feeling comfortable in your own home was normal. It was normal in your extended family as well, you came from a long line of toxic men, there was no one to show you that what you were experiencing was abnormal, until now. Men drinking until they passed out was normal. Men controlling the house was normal. Women only dated Men, even in a different universe you would never see a Woman dating a Woman in your family. But somehow Barça had shown you this wasn’t normal.

Alexia’s heart ached as she watched sobs rack your body, she just wanted to hold you tight and tell you it would all be okay, but she couldn't. She had to respect your boundaries and give you some control back.

But you soon found yourself sitting in her lap, your body having gravitated to the warmth and safety she seemed to provide. Your hands clutched to her shirt.

“Nena, can I hug you?” She asked not wanting to do anything against your will, you nodded into her chest and she wrapped her arms around you. You suddenly felt safe, cared for, loved, it suddenly all came crashing down, this team loved you, you had never really experienced that before, and you broke down even more. You were now gasping for air as your body shook, Alexia’s concern for you was rapidly growing.

“Nena, I need you to breath, you’re going to make yourself sick,” She told you, “I-I can’t” you told her as you struggled to suck in air, “Yes, you can Nena, just in and out, focus on my chest moving up and now,” you managed to slightly calm down, but it was barely, your were still shaking and your sobs still racked your body, but you were no longer gasping for air. Alexia put her headphones over your ears and made sure to turn on the noise cancelling feature, she needed to call someone for help but didn’t want you to have to listen in, you didn’t mind, you kind of liked the quietness they provided you. She called Mapi.

Mapi, I need you and Ingrid to take me and Nena home now.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #barca femeni x reader #barca femeni #barca women #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

[moonsaver]

Context before getting into the actual idea: I recently saw some fanart based on concept art for Dr Ratio where he has slightly longer, messier hair and the fanart interpreted this as him having a bit of a rebellious phase when he was younger.

So now I’m just thinking about Reader going to school with him when he was going through this phase. He had a bit of a crush on her but didn’t know how to express it so he just messed with her constantly.

And now they meet again when he’s changed and he hasn’t gotten over her she’s just getting massive amounts of whiplash from how wildly different he is. Could be yandere 👀

Anon. I am GRIPPINT YOU BY THE SHOULDERS. Listen. Unfortunately i doubt i did this justice but i tried my best PLEASE okay

A bit long, under the cut!

Its not exactly easy to imagine Dr. Ratio of all people being rebellious, but that just makes it even more possibly believeable in my opinion. I am deeply convinced he has had his crazy scientist, jerkward asshole phase at least once and was soo deeply embarassed the moment he left it.

But listen. His professors all probably HATED him because he would probably constantly correct them, be so disgustingly overeducated to the point they'd send him to the library or tell him to get lost just so he wouldn't disrupt class. He's the infamous asshole who sits wherever he wants, and hoardes an entire table to himself if he's at the library or at the cafeteria. Any student who needs a pen or eraser or a pencil knows he's NOT the one to ask, even if it was in the middle of an exam worth half their grade and he was the only person beside them. He does literally anything he wants and no one can stop him except probably by force, and if they do, something worse ends up happening to them instead.

Anyways, here comes in reader. Probably already knows his sour reputation. Regardless, maybe you're the poor soul who's his seatmate. If the crush is already established, he's constantly bothering you. Asking for stationaries like the entirety of his desk isn't covered by it already (he likes the miniscule interaction), taking your notebooks without your knowledge and sometimes even scribbling inside of them (its his horrid handwriting, he's just trying to help you with detailed notes), he comments on how "lame" your outfit is, asking about your social life, rolling his eyes when your response isn't exactly.. pleasing (he's actually a bit content with it. Perhaps you'll hang out with him more, instead?). You note the smell of alcohol trailing him a bit everytime you interact with him.

It's not easy for him, especially when you can't seem to keep up and look so queasy around him. Aeons, his heart is so twisted up and squeezed everytime he seems to be getting more distant from you, but he just has no idea how to convey his feelings. Not when he didn't even account for the fact he'll have a crush on anyone in the first place.

Anyways, timeskip!

You're probably a researcher of some sort, maybe not so well known. Let's just say for the sake of simplicity you're a researcher on Herta's space station. It's not too soon before he runs into you, probably after the whole mess at the station's been "cleaned up" regarding the curio and whatever. Maybe he doesn't leave right after that interaction with Screwellum, and he decides to, by his curiosity, take a look around once again before he leaves (certainly not because he's heard a familiar name thrown around a few times).

And there you are. In your little research-getup, professional vernacular, hair all neat. He's probably right behind you in an instant, and you turn around to look as the colleague you were talking to suddenly starts stuttering and becoming squeamish while looking behind you. There he is, in all his (cruel?) Glory. The infamous asshole who was your classmate.

But.. it's surprising how much more mellow he's become (at least towards you?). His hair are neatly tamed, his build is taller and more muscular than it was back then, but his attire is also quite tame (if not a little.. fancy?), compared to his brash taste back then. His eyes still seem to hold contempt, but more distantly so.

Veritas figures your mouth is agape and you're speechless considering the change in his countenance as of recent. He's also not yet come to terms with the fact that his heart still twists and squeezes whenever he sees that unsure look on your face. If you were made of clay, and if he could, he'd meld the most beautiful smile on your face with his craftful fingers. Alas, he resorts to tamer methods. At least he supposes he's a wiser man, now. He's more aware of different courting methods.

He asks about your station, your current life, family, friends, etc .. in a seemingly disinterested tone. There's a bit of resignation but hidden constrain in his voice, everytime you mention a "close friend" of yours or a colleague you worked with "closely". But he hasn't been berating you the way he would have back then. His fingers slightly constantly strain, folded behind his back, trying desperately not to taper towards you – there's stray strands of hair on your face. Your headpiece is off centre. Your pen is slanting in your pocket. Your shoulders are too tense. Your eyebrows are furrowed. your eyes look tired. Have your lips always been chapped? They were fine back then.. hold on.

While you stutter out useless formalities and pleasantries, Veritas' eyes scan you over. Time has weathered you well, in his opinion. The thin line of his pressed lips dont quite indicate that. He sighs almost grimly, shutting you up in an instant. He offers you to accompany him and possibly consider joining the Intelligentsia Guild (is it not worth a shot trying? It may be foolish, but he's a tad too desperate when it comes to you). You timidly mumble out a refusal, the words barely leaving your mouth. He nods.

Catching up makes his heart squeeze and rush all over the place. Topics he once tried to teach you back then (by.. VERY unsuccessful methods,) seem to be elementary knowledge to you now. You work more efficiently, hold yourself in a better, more confident way, and you seem to be smoothsailing in your life. Granted, it's technically the bare minimum, but its been so long since he talked to you. The chirp in your voice, the chuckle you let out every now and then despite your nervousness around him, has his heart in his throat. He can't bring himself to try and even "set you straight" by giving you (unwarranted) advice or piddling your achievements, there's a soft smile he's duly hiding behind his scorning face.

He offers you again, if you are unsure about joining the Guild, and discreetly mentions it being filled with imbeciles regardless when you deny again, pulling another string of laughter out of you. Hmph, you weren't so joyful when he made those statements back in high school.

Granted,you're obviously still not quite sure about Veritas' new look. He's still got his infamous reputation as an extremely strict teacher, the oddball with an alabastor head and having worked with the IPC, it's not a pleasant image per se, but it's heaps better than his reputation back at school. You politely make a joke about it, and he groans, earning another cautious, light chuckle from you. He has become different. You prattle on about the length of his hair, his refinement of speech, the difference in how he holds himself now.. it does leave him melting a tad bit inside. You noticed it? Hm. Clever little thing.

Of course, goodbyes are seldom sweet. He does manage to pry out your contact information once again, before. If you don't budge,he finds another way regardless. Your network of colleagues aren't exactly as strong as you might have thought. He remembers this information carefully.

Like the old days, maybe he'll manage to keep slipping notes into your reports and files. Perhaps pull a few strings back in the old days to keep you in his class, he'll slowly knot and twist a few strings to bring and budge you over to his little workplace. Sooner or later, you'll end up in his home. He's sure of it.

And just like the old days, his little seatmate is by his side once again. Care to put up with him for a bit longer? Probably forever, in this case.

#moonink #hsr #honkai star rail #yandere hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #yandere hsr x reader #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai x reader #yandere honkai star rail #hsr veritas ratio #hsr veritas #hsr dr ratio #hsr yandere #dr ratio x gender neutral reader #dr ratio x y/n #dr ratio x you #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio hsr #yandere dr ratio #dr ratio #veritas ratio hsr #veritas ratio x reader #honkai star rail dr ratio #honkai star rail veritas ratio

[mikkeneko]

....now considering whether I want to write a 'Find the shapeshifters' fic for SVSSS too

#the key thing would be deciding who all is in the party when the doubles happen #luo binghe #liu qingge #shen qingqiu #and yue qingyuan #seem like the most obvious candidates #so far the only 'telling traits' I can think of would be #1) Shen Qingqiu's 'Luo Binghe' is impossibly suave and hits on any female figures within a radius #which leads everybody else to say 'Yeah that's fake' because they all know LBH only has eyes for SQQ #and 2) I think Yue Qingyuan's 'Shen Qingqiu' is kind of ragged and underfed #even now #he can't stop seeing him that way. a little bit. #oh 3) luo binghe's 'Liu Qingge' would just be OFFENSIVE. probably his 'YQY' too. #4) if Shang Qinghua is in the group that's going to make things difficult #because shang qinghua's doubles are almost all perfect #except for Shang Qinghua's 'Shen Qingqiu' #who he definitely gets wrong in some way #because Shen Qingqiu is the only one here that Shang Qinghua did not create

[latenightdaydreams]

König for sure has a breeding kink

But what if his girl was infertile? Like straight-up sterile? Would he be upset, or would he have a lot of fun rawing the hell out of her?

I think no matter what, König will still be trying to get you pregnant. Even if his partner has a penis, he's still going to mentally be getting them pregnant😂 Except he can raw dog stress free.

König x Infertile!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab. infertile, p in v

1.0k word count

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König has always had an intense breeding kink. Every woman he’s had sex with, even if it was a one-night stand, he wanted to get her pregnant. He wouldn’t, but he wanted to. Just something about going in raw and cumming deeply into a fertile womb. The flip side is the actual baby. Having to be responsible for raising a whole human. What if he is a bad father like his father was? What if he’s too harsh on them and they don’t love him. Too soft and they don’t respect him? What if they don’t get along? So many fears. Too many, which is why he always wears a condom, even if the woman is on birth control. He’s never actually fucked raw.

Then he met you. You both met on a dating site and agreed to meet up for a coffee date. Something slow so you both can get to know each other. He thought you were absolutely stunning and enjoyed how easily the conversation flowed. One date turned into several and things were getting more serious. You both were ready to take things to the next level.

You asked König to come over to your apartment. Assuming you both would have sex, he made sure to shower well, get you flowers, and a delicate gold bracelet. He really liked you and wanted to make your first time together special.

 König got there and saw you looking beautiful as always. Walking inside, he handed you all of your gifts. He watched you closely and noticed a sad look in your eyes while trying to be happy. It made his heart drop that maybe you’re actually ending things. So, when you asked him to sit and talk with you, his heart sank.

With sad eyes he sat across from you on the couch. He reached his hand out and placed it on your lap, in his mind if you let him touch you still then maybe you aren’t going to leave him. You didn’t put your hand on his, but you also didn’t push his hand away. Maybe there was hope? Then you dropped huge news in his lap. You’re infertile. 100% not able to have children.

König looked at you for a while not knowing what to say at first. You figured this would be the end of it all. He would take back his gift and leave mad at you for wasting his time. His hand squeezed your thigh a little harder as he opened his mouth to speak.

After only thirty minutes of talking, you’re both in your bedroom, naked on your bed. König moves his head from between your legs and wipes his mouth once you ask for his cock, he wasn’t about to waste time. He gets up from the bed and goes over to his pants and begins to go into his pockets.

“What are you doing?” You ask sitting up.

“Getting a condom.”

“Oh, I assumed we wouldn’t use one…”

König looked at you quickly once you said that. Then it clicked. You can’t get pregnant, you’re both clean, so there’s no risk. “You… you want no condom?”

“I mean, it’s your choice, but I’m okay without.”

König quickly drops the condom and rushes back to you on the bed. He quickly grabs your legs and pulls you towards him. He was about to go in raw for the first time. He feels giddy like it’s his first time again.

He looks down and begins to rub his cock along you. The warmth and sensation of his cock slipping along your folds. He lets out a small groan, his cock not even in yet. “Are you ready?”

“I am.”

He moves his body forward and leans over you, his arms wrapped around your body. He begins to kiss along your forehead before he pushes in. Just the tip and he felt like he just stepped into heaven. You moan out and he moans as well as he continues to shove his cock into you. The texture of your gummy silky walls wrapping tightly around him makes you melt into you.

“Fuck…” König moans loudly as he begins to pull back and buck his hips rapidly.

Your hands reach out and grab his back, digging your fingernails across his skin. His cock so big it’s almost painful as he gives you no time to get use to him as he eagerly begins to fuck you. Your eyes close as his hands move down your body to grab your ass, lifting you up to meet his thrust.

“König!”

“Say my name again,” he groaned, his breathing heavy.

“König!” your legs shaking from the rush of pleasure

He pulls away and moves his body upright, he drapes each of your legs over his arms. His face focused as he looks down at you, he begins to pick back up his pace. Your breast bouncing in rhythm with his thrust. He didn’t want to cum before you, but fuck your cunt just feels too good.

“I can’t hold on any longer.” König closes his eyes and lets his head fall back as his face scrunches.

“Please, cum in me.”

Your words trigger that breeding kink, whether or not you can get pregnant, his brain wants to get you pregnant. He drops your legs and leans back over you, thrusting so harshly into you that you begin to scream.

“Beg for my cum.”

“Please, please cum in me.” Your voice sounds pathetic as you moan out to him.

“I’m going to fill you fucking with my seed,” he moans out before his pace slows and his cock begins to throb inside of you. “Gott!” He pushes as far as he can into you.

Panting, König pulls out and rests his body beside yours. He looks over at you smiling as you smile back at him. He watches as you begin to sit up.

“Where are you going?” He reaches out and stops you.

“Just to clean up, I’ll be back.”

“But I’m not done with you yet.” He chuckles and pulls you back to him for round two.

#konig #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig #konig cod #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig x reader smut #smut #cod smut #konig x reader smut #könig x you #konig x you #konig x female reader #könig call of duty #könig x y/n

[dduane]

Hello! Do you think your conception of magic in YW is influenced at all by computer code? Between High Wizardry and some of the website admin stuff you discuss here, I'm guessing you've coded at least a little.

I'm an actor-turned-librarian who's cobbled together a little bit of coding competency through goofing off. The other day I tried to explain how I conceptualize a coding project and, well, first you need to figure out something's name -- and make sure you're properly specific for the context, you may need a lot of detail in how you name it -- and then you can start figuring out how to persuade it to do what you want ....

So I guess it's sort of a chicken-and-egg question: have I conceptualized coding in the image of my favorite fictional magic systems, or have I been generally drawn to magic systems with a sort of code-y, process-y inspiration?

I wouldn't like to second-guess your in-brain structure. But I can talk about my historical processes a bit, as they may apply to this.

Let me step back slightly. Before* I was a writer, I was a nurse. Before I was a nurse, I was studying to be an astrophysicist. Both of these arts/sciences require a certain sense of the hard structure of the universe—of the ways it requires you to put bits of it together if you're going to get anything useful done. This general outlook has determined, to a certain extent, how I interact with the nuts and bolts of the online world.

More historically speaking: I'm one of an unusual stratum of computer users who were technologically orphaned by the (bankruptcy) failure of the Osborne computer company in the mid-1980s. Those of us who had these machines, and who were at all techie-oriented, quickly became WAY more so in an attempt to keep our Osbornes running after the company went under. We learned how to keep our babies going without any available support, and when we moved on to other machines, we quickly became expert in fixing them... having learned the bitter lesson that when your computer fails, most of the time you're the only one you're going to be able to rely on to keep it going.

We learned to do things for ourselves, from the bottom up: hardware to programming. That mindset has remained with me from then until now.

After my Osborne, I moved from an early Apple (lent by our old friend Michael Reaves) to various early DOS/TRS machines when I moved over to this side of the Atlantic. I wrote Star Trek: The Kobayashi Alternative on a TRS-80 Model 100, gods bless its gentle hardworking heart. (I can still see in my mind the pale, pine-panelled interior of the ancient creaky London hotel, just south of Notting Hill Gate Tube, where I did most of the Trek work while I was in town on other business. I'd hooked the computer's modem to the hotel's phone system with alligator clips.) While Peter and I were later sorting out where we'd live on this side of things, for a long time—before portable computers, except for the TRS—the big machines lived in the boot of the Volvo while we migrated from place to place. And always the alligator clips were there.

Finally we settled in Ireland, and not too long after us, so did the Internet. (But not before I had to go up to Dublin one time, with the alligator clips again FFS!, and show the adorably clueless national telephone company guys how to hook up/in. ...I never pass that building without thinking of it: once Telecom Eireann, then Eircom, then Eir. Now it's a Starbucks. No matter. I remember where to hook the alligator clips in.)

And then, with the internet, lo, there came the (net-oriented) coding. Our first household web site went online in 1995. I handcoded our site's HTML. (Because what's a girl to do: wait for the techbois to make such work accessible or affordable? Bwahahahaha.) I continued to do that until the early 2000s, at which point I moved our sites to Drupal and learned its obscure ways. These days—having decided that Updating Damn Drupal Core Every Week is not what my mom raised me for—I've migrated all our household sites to WordPress, and I like it. I still pay a lot of attention to them, but at least I don't have to custom-code every whole damn page. I'm happy enough to let Elementor do that, while inserting occasional custom CSS, because (a) I have other writing to do, and (b) Life Is Too Short.

(I also used to hand-build our household computers, because (a) money was short and (b) why not know exactly what all your hardware is? But more recently I've started letting Scan in the UK do that. It's another Life Is Too Short thing... and Scan does good work. Lovely tight builds, and good customer service when needed.)

So: yeah, I code. :) Is the Young Wizards universe’s spell structure influenced by that? Uh, yeah. Inevitable, I’d think. Habit is such a taskmaster.

Meanwhile, summing up: I'm fluent in HTML. I'm nearly as fluent in CSS. I have enough PHP to be dangerous (to myself as well as others). I have memories of C that I can dredge up when necessary. I generated most of the Rihannsu language in MS-BASIC, gods bless it. ...And beyond that (as we say around here), deponent saith not. :)

*Or “while”, as I started writing when I was six or seven.

#coding #writing #Young Wizards #Young Wizards meta

[djdangerkinard]

A little bucktommy drabble based on something I said to @evan-privileges in dms

On the first day of flight training, Tommy’s instructor had began the lesson by asking if he’d studied the manual. Tommy, eager and feigning an abundance of confidence had replied, “Like the back of my hand, sir.”  “Eh,” the old man shrugged with an air of being unimpressed, “I think we’d all be better off if you’d studied it like the back of your girlfriend’s hand. Perhaps a wife? You got one of those?”  And Tommy really hadn’t understood that at the time, never loved someone enough to know them in such an intimate way but in the here now, under the soft linen sheets that smell like the environmental friendly laundry detergent his boyfriend drives passed two grocery stores to buy, he thinks he gets it. Because on the mornings they wake together, Tommy is usually roused from sleep by the soft drag of a finger mapping his face.  It’s a featherlight touch over the curve of his brow, a graceful trace of constellations between his moles and faint scars, and a sculptor’s delicate caress down the slope of his nose and the dimple in his chin. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to know he’s being studied, afraid that if he opens his eyes Evan will never find the courage to want to know him so intimately again, so he lays there until it stops, until Evan starts outlining his face with kisses instead.  Except one morning, night actually given that Tommy can tell it’s too dark in the loft for the sun to be up, he feels Buck’s fingers on his face purposefully finding different routes around the fresh stitches in his skin and has no choice but to stop feigning sleep when he can tell Evan is crying. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He asks as he blinks back at him in the dark. Evan wipes the tears clinging to his long lashes with the back of his hand, but continues to delicately soothe Tommy’s bruised face all the same. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. You need to rest.” Tommy tilts his head sideways to kiss assurance into Evan’s wrist. “I’m okay. I like when you do this.” An index finger comes to a stop at his temple just above the edge of a butterfly bandage. “You…do?” Tommy grins around the sting of a cut in his lip. “Yeah. I love waking up under your study.” His boyfriend continues trailing a finger down the side of his face, “You make it sound creepy when you say it like that. It’s…more than that. I…I just want to know you-“ “Like the back of your hand?” He teases before he can think better of it, the pain medicine a good excuse, but Evan shakes it off as nothing.  “More than that,” he counters, brow furrowed adorably with fresh tears wetting his eyelashes. Tommy wants to reach up to dry them, but Evan blinks them away before he can. “I just want to remember you, to…to know that if anything were to ever h-happen like-“ “Hey,” Tommy does reach up after that, cupping his boyfriend’s face in his hands and catching the tears that fall with his thumbs. “I’m right here.” “You almost weren’t,” Evan breathes and shuffles to lay down beside him. Tommy turns so they’re facing each other and rolls just enough to kiss his boyfriend on the forehead. “I don’t want to-…I’m never going to forget you. I love you.” “You make it sound like forever when you say it like that,” Tommy grins as he pulls Evan into his arms. He feels a warm, damp kiss against his throat before he hears a soft, “Good.”

#evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #bucktommy drabble #911 abc

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Chapter 4 - Runaway

<<First Chapter - < Prev Chapter -

Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Dubcon, Plus-sized reader, female reader, Poorly thought out action sequences, Guns, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me. No promises for future chapters though I might even tell y'all her name.

~3.8k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

You wake in the morning with your nose buried in a thick patch of chest hair, and strong arms around you. Your legs are hooked around one of his thick thighs, and something hard digs into your stomach. You start to inch away, but his arms tighten, and his hips cant against you, a thick, sleepy groan rumbling in his chest. It would be a nice way to wake up, if not for the circumstances. It’s been ages since you slept beside another person, let alone someone that feels as comfortable as John does.

“John,” you say softly. You don’t want to fully wake him up, just get him to let you go. “John, please let me go.”

He hums, one hand sliding to your waist, and then down to your hip, pulling you closer, grinding you against his thigh. You squeak in protest, becoming aware that you’re already wet, like you’ve been unconsciously humping his leg in your sleep for some time. You push your slightly freer top half away a little, so you can look at him. He’s still sleeping, a little frown on his face as he’s pulled unwillingly toward consciousness. He really is handsome, especially like this, all his defences down, grumbling like a hibernating bear.

“Don’t wake up,” you tell him, as if it’ll make any difference. “I just have to pee.”

One of his blue eyes cracks open, a little unfocused. “You comin’ back?” His voice is rough from sleep, rasping like sandpaper.

“Sure,” you say, even though you have no intention of doing so. Your body seems as eager as his is for something you’re sure is dangerous. Maybe he smells good, like tobacco, warm, boozy spices and something undeniably male, and maybe he feels warm and solid against you, but you don’t want to encourage this. You just want to enough space to clear your head. His admissions last night still have you spooked, John’s words not tempered by a night of surprisingly good sleep. “I’ll just be a minute.”

He loosens his hold on you enough that you can wiggle free, his eyes opening a little more so he can watch you slip out of bed. He rolls over onto his back, and starts snoring gently before you’ve even made it to the bedroom door. You take the opportunity to snag one of the bags stacked in front of the closet and your purse off the dresser and bring both to the bathroom with you. You’re not sure what’s in the bag, but you know the larger suitcase has things from your closet in it, so you’re hoping this one has more from your dresser.

You get dressed, glad that most of your underthings and a comfortable pair of jeans and a thick sweater are inside and pack your toothbrush and makeup bag into the larger one, and creep downstairs carefully. One of them is snoring gently on the couch, but otherwise, the house is silent. You carefully fish a set of keys off the hooks by the door and sneak outside. You don’t know where any of your shoes are except the red heels, so you just leave in your sock feet, and pile your things into the pick-up truck. You’ll drive it into town and leave it there, buy a ticket on a train or a bus, and get the hell back home.

It sucks to have to leave everything you own, beyond the clothes in the one bag and the contents of your purse, but maybe you can call the cops— Well. Probably not. Better to just start over anywhere else. You have digital copies of a few pictures of your parents, and that’s better than nothing, even if their wedding album is sitting on a shelf in John’s living room, along with all the family photos that your parents took of you and them while you were growing up. Your mother’s sketchbooks too, and her camera, and your dad’s guitar.

You bite your lip, holding back tears, and start the truck.

No sense mourning things. The memories are in your head and your heart, not trapped in the pages of books or twisted into the strings of the guitar. You don’t need them.

You haven’t driven in a long time, and the truck, unfortunately, is a manual, which you haven’t driven in even longer, but you manage to pull away from the house without revving the engine too hard, and pick up speed once you get to the road, only just remembering to hit the clutch with your left foot before you change gears. You’d feel pretty pathetic if you only made it to the road before stalling out the pickup.

You’re not sure which way town is, but you figure the road has to lead somewhere no matter which way you choose, so you navigate blindly, turning onto a bigger road a little ways down the gravel one that leads to John’s house. Bigger road means more people, although the hour is still so early that there’s no one around yet. The sun is barely up, and it’s still shadowy in the woods on either side of the road. The woods give way to fields suddenly, the sun making a too-bright debut, shining right into your eyes. You flip down the visor and adjust the rear-view mirror, wincing when you see a blue car a ways behind you, approaching fast.

You didn’t notice the car when you were leaving— It must have been parked behind the bigger van that they’d used to move all your things— but it looks sporty and fast, and judging by the way it closes the gap, there’s no question that it’s them. You push the truck harder, squinting against the light, heart hammering. The car’s engine roars, loud enough that you can hear it over the blood rushing in your ears, and pulls into the lane beside you. Gaz motions for you to pull over from the passenger seat.

You slow up enough that they pull ahead a little, and you yank your steering wheel to the side and stomp down on the gas and the clutch, shifting into third gear and nailing the side of the car, shattering a tail light and making it spin, stopping just shy of the ditch.

For a moment, you’re still close enough to see the shock on their faces, but you’re moving fast and leave them in the dust, at least momentarily. It won’t take them long to recover and catch up again, and if they hit you with the same maneuver, there’s no way you’ll be able to get the truck under control. There’s not enough weight in the bed of the truck to compensate, and you’ll wind up in the ditch for certain.

Funny, how it comes back to you. Learning to drive along mountain roads way outside Aberdeen, either in your dad’s little car or your mom’s old truck (usually the car, which was the easier one to drive. Your dad was the safer driver too, the better parent to learn from), and you can almost imagine your mother in the passenger seat, laughing her head off at the insane circumstances, encouraging you to throw caution to the wind, to get a feel for the road under the wheels and the way the old truck handled. She always laughed when she was under stress, but it’s comforting to think of. Your mum would never let a couple of thick-headed military assholes get the better of her.

The car is catching up again, so you floor it and smash through a fence gate into a muddy field, where the car won’t handle as well, and speed your way across the stubbly remains of wheat, already harvested. The car follows, and, predictably, struggles, the low frame too close to the muck, bumping unhappily over the soft, uneven ground.

Laughter bubbles up in your chest, relieving some of the built-up anxiety. You smash through a segment of the fence on the other side and yank the truck back onto the road, giggling when the truck fishtails a bit, mud slicking the tires on the pavement. There’s so much adrenaline coursing through your system that you feel like you might be sick the moment you let any of this catch up with you. So you keep driving, and pray that it doesn’t.

The car gets close again when you reach another wooded section of road. Through the rearview mirror you can see Gaz pop out of the window, gun drawn, but you don’t hear the crack when it fires, you only feel the impact when the bullet strikes one of the rear tires. You shriek, slamming on the breaks as the truck spins out of your control and off the road, slamming into a tree head on.

The lurch forward as the airbags deploy, your body hitting them hard, knocking all the air out of your lungs as you’re slapped back into he seat. The seat belt bites into your shoulder painfully. You unbuckle yourself quickly, ears ringing too loudly for you to hear the screeching tires of the pursuit car. You fall to the ground when you try to get out, head spinning.

You stumble into the trees, still blinking away double vision. If you can find a good spot to hide— Maybe you can double back and take the car while they chase you blindly through the trees. You cast about, feeling every rapidly forming bruise, wishing desperately that you had shoes, and dive into the underbrush, scooting forward on your belly, brambles catching in your hair as you curl up, out of sight.

“Please come out, doll,” you hear Gaz call out, boots crunching through the woods, closer than you would like. “It’s okay, we’re not mad. Just come out and we’ll take you home, yeah?”

Johnny is yelling further off, his voice incomprehensible but sing-song, mocking. Gaz moves further into the woods. You wait until his voice grows a little more distant before you drag yourself back out, sweater streaked with mud, leaves in your hair, and quickly sneak back to the road. The car is still running, the driver door left open. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“There you are, bird.”

You scream. A gloved hand drops over your mouth, cutting off the sound, and an arm loops around your waist, picking you right up off your feet.

Fuck.

"Look what you did, bird. Wrecked up Price's truck. 'E's not goin' to be 'appy about that." He turns so you can see the slightly smoking truck, the front half of it crumpled beyond repair.

You shake your head until he pulls his hand away from your mouth. "Its not my fault I crashed. Gaz shot the tire out. I wasn't even going to steal it, just leave it in town once I'd gotten to a bus stop."

He hums. You hear the slight crackle of a radio. "Got 'er, lads. Come back to the car."

"Rog."

"Aye."

Ghost shoves you into the back seat. "Stay put," he says sternly. "You're already banged up, don't want to 'ave to tackle you."

You sigh, all the fight leaving you. You feel awful, bruised and shaken up and trembling, and you do nothing but watch as Ghost gathers your things from the truck and puts them in the boot of the car. You slump back in the seat, inspecting the scratches on your hands idly. Your head hurts, and your shoulder aches, and you feel a bit like you've been stepped on, but nothing feels broken, just bruised and tender. You got lucky.

Well, not lucky. There's very little about any of this that counts as luck. Especially considering the look on Johnny's face when he jogs out of the trees. At first he looks stormy, but he grins when he sees you and opens the back door to crawl onto the seat and on top of you.

"Steamin Jesus, where'd ye learn ta drive like tha'?" He asks. "Didnae ken ye were a racer."

"Outside Aberdeen," you reply. Your ribs hurt. Soap’s weight makes every little ache more acute.

"Price isn't gonna be happy about his truck," Gaz says, tossing himself into the driver's seat. "What were you thinking, doll? You could've been hurt."

"You didn't have to shoot the tire." You try to push Soap off, but he wraps himself around you, a bit tight, but bearably so. You’re trembling, and he’s trying to help, in a thoroughly unhelpful way. "I was just trying to get home."

"That's the wrong way. Your home's with Price now." Ghost gets into the other front seat, and Gaz reverses back out onto the road.

You sigh, leaning your head against the window, watching the countryside flash by. It takes an embarrassingly short time to get back to John's house. You didn't get as far as you would have liked, hardly got anywhere at all. Your eyes prickle with tears, but you don't want to cry in front of them. You want to go back to bed, maybe back in time to the morning. You would have been wiser just to curl up next to John again.

Soap drags you from the car, hands a bit rough on your bruises, and pulls you back to the house. John rushes out, worry creasing his face, blue eyes sweeping over you and turning furious. "What happened?" he barks, not at you, but at his men.

"Bird was makin' a run for it," Ghost says.

"Wrecked your truck," Gaz adds.

"That's not my fault!" you protest. "You shot at me!" You glare at him, frustrated tears overflowing down your cheeks. It’s like they have no idea what kind of stress they’ve put you through.

"Woah, woah, c'mere, doll." John pulls you against his chest, wrapping strong arms around you, stilling some of the tremble in your limbs. "You broken?"

You shake your head, leaning into him, gripping his t-shirt tightly. You breathe in raggedly, trying to steady yourself.

"Lads. Why did you shoot at her?"

"Trying to stop the truck."

"She's a civilian you muppets. I take it that the truck's in no shape to drive, or you would've brought it back. You could have killed her." He pets a hand over your head, plucking out a few leaves. "You should’ve let her go."

"She stole your truck!" Soap protests.

"So what? It's wrecked now anyway, innit?" The silence behind you speaks volumes. "Alright, doll, why don't you go get cleaned up? " he murmurs against the top of your head. "I need to talk to the lads, and what I have to say is not fit for a lady's ears."

He gently ushers you into the house and closes the door firmly behind you. You trudge upstairs, feeling utterly pathetic, and lock yourself into the bathroom. Still sniffling, you comb sticks and leaves out of your hair with your fingers and put yourself into a hot shower, where you give yourself the freedom to cry your eyes out, hoping that the sound of water drowns your stifled sobs.

The house is quiet when you shut off the shower and dry yourself off. You wrap the shirt you'd slept in around you and poke your head out into the hallway. John is right there, holding out a bundle of clothes. "Here, sweetheart," he says softly, like he's worried a sharp word will set you off again. He must have heard everything. "I sent the boys to deal with the truck and that tail light, so it's just us. Just come on downstairs when you're ready."

You open the door wide enough to accept the clothes, and he turns to leave again, content to leave anything else to be said when you make it downstairs.

He'd obviously taken his cue from what you'd been wearing already, because he gives you a sweater and jeans again, comfortable worn in things. You go downstairs carefully, every joint and muscle in your body aching, even after the shower.

"How do you take your coffee?" he asks. "Or do you prefer tea?"

"Coffee, please. I can make it. I'd feel better if I did, honestly." You skirt around him to the cupboard where you'd seen Gaz take mugs out, recognizing your own nestled among John's mismatched ones. You put milk and sugar in your favourite mug, and pour in coffee, stirring it throroughly. The clink of the spoon is loud, and so is the pan he sets on the stove top.

"Eggs and toast okay?" He asks.

"Um, yeah. That would be nice. Over easy?"

"Yes ma'am." He looks at you over his shoulder while butter melts in the pan, blue eyes all worry. "Did I say something to you last night? Maybe the sort of thing that made you feel like you needed to steal a truck and run as fast as you could away from here?"

"Um. Yes." You hold onto the mug with both hands. "Some stuff about wanting to start a family. With me."

His ears turn pink. "I see."

"I suppose this is where you tell me it was just the whiskey talking, right?" you ask hopefully. You like him, even if it’s ill-advised, maybe even dangerous to do so.

"Wish I could."

Your stomach twists. “Oh.”

John turns around fully, guilt and sadness written all over his handsome face. He steps closer and touches your arm gently. “I’m so sorry about what my boys have put you through, sweetheart. None of this has been right.” He sighs, brushing a few tendrils of still-wet hair away from your face, studying you, those intense blue eyes focused on you intently. “But there’s something special about you, doll. I really do want to keep you forever. Not if you’re scared, and not if you feel forced— It’s just, the thought of you leavin' and never wanting to speak to me again is— I don’t want that.”

You swallow nervously. “This is just really overwhelming.”

“I know. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have let this happen. Soap really could have just given you my number.” The smile he gives you is hopeful, and you can’t help but return it, just a little. “Now go sit down, doll. Let me take care of breakfast, hm?”

You nod and move to the table, sitting where you can watch him, and peek out the window too. The car is gone, but the van is still there for the moment, sitting idly to the side. You consider making another run for it, but your aching limbs protest even the thought. There’s not enough fight in you, and you’re not even sure you want to fight John, not the way you do the other three. His only crime has been wanting you to stay, and being a bit overzealous about it. You can’t be mad at him for that, can you? It isn’t really his fault.

Well, it might be his fault, in a roundabout way. He trained them, taught them how to ruthlessly pursue an objective. It’s just not his fault they can’t keep it from coming home with them. That’s a clear failure of whoever does their mental health assessments.

You sip your coffee and watch John crack eggs into a pan. He keeps glancing at you, and his smile flickers on a little longer each time that he catches you looking back, until he doesn’t stop smiling, and just looks happy, glad to have you there, even if you’re just keeping a silent vigil on the other side of the room.

It's not like you have anywhere to go. It'll take days at least to feel like you haven't just been in a car crash, and days more to locate everything to pack it back up. So long as you don't have to share a bed with John again, you think you could live with this, for at least a week. It can't be that terrible, so long as the others leave you alone. You rather hope they just leave. If you asked, would John send them away?

"John," you say as he sets a plate with buttered toast and a couple of eggs on it in front of you, and sets a couple tablets of paracetamol beside your plate. "If I stay… Will they be staying too?"

"I'm going to have them leave this afternoon. That alright with you? We can go for a walk to the neighbours while they pack up, if you're up for it. Maybe dr-- Well, not drive." He sets his own plate down and sits next to you, handing you a knife and a fork. “Have to get that sorted out. But the neighbours-- Rob and Melissa-- Their dog just had puppies a few weeks ago. Do you like dogs?”

You nod, breaking the yolks of one of the eggs with a corner of toast. "My parents had a dog when I was growing up. Some kind of German shepherd cross. Best boy. His name was Rob Roy, because he was a wee outlaw. Mam found him digging in the trash and--" you stop and give John a baleful look. "Sorry. That was more than you were asking."

"No, that's the most you've said at once this whole time. I'd listen to you talk all day, doll. Don't ever apologize."

"Sorry I-- Oh, shit, sorry--" you press your fingers to your mouth, cutting yourself off. "Force of habit."

"I'd like to see you lose that one. You have nothin' to apologize for. Not one damn thing, and especially not talking. I think you have the prettiest voice I've ever heard."

You roll your eyes, but you can't help smiling. "You're just saying that."

He touches your arm lightly. "You don't know me too well yet, doll, but I never just say anything."

Yet hangs in the air, heavy and deliberate. He wants you to know him, wants you to stay with him, wants you to like him. Even if it makes no sense, the offer is tempting. It's been a long time since you've let someone get close— You've had the occasional fling, and the odd reunion with an ex that you’d stayed friends with, but grief is like a canyon you can't bear to cross. What if you love someone and you lose them, the way you lost your parents? How could you live with that all over again?

Still, there's something that feels like warm sunlight in his smile, and you can't help but incline toward him, slowly but surely reaching for the light. No one can live in the shade forever. There’s no nobility in suffering.

So you let yourself talk, at least a little. And he listens, hanging on to your words like they're precious, gazing at you with something unfurling in his expression that you can't name. You're almost afraid to try.

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

#Retirement Party #Chapter 4 - Runaway #Whoops forgor to do this earlier #sorry friends I shouldn't make self-imposed deadlines I know the guy that sets em and he's a pushover #Doll girl you are doomed do not let that man give you the big hopeful blue eyes he is TROUBLE #Seriously though what is WRONG with these guys they are not making good decisions even a little #dark fic #cod mw fanfiction #john price x reader #OC: Doll #x reader #Sorry she's become more of a character and it's harder to deny her personhood for the x reader bit #so hopefully you can just enjoy being Doll for a hot minute

[royaltozaki]

doctor's advice

synopsis: y/n decides to go to the leading plastic surgery clinic in korea bcs she's sick of feeling the way she does about how she looks. she catches the attention of dr. im nayeon, the head of this practice who thinks y/n is way too pretty to warrant any of those feelings she has about herself.

warnings: this is lowkey just smut oops, fingering, oral, body image issues - so a lil angsty in the beginning

w/c: 4.2k

a/n: this one is kinda all over the place and i lwk hate it but i needed to finish it so i could get over this writing block like i did kindaaa have a vision for it but i gave up halfway and just turned to sex which is why it doesn't flow well LMAO but hey! doctor nayeon is hot so!

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

"can i get your full name please?"

"y/n l/n."

the receptionist smiles at you, typing something into her computer and handing you a form, "alright y/n, just fill in this form and someone will be with you in a bit."

you nod, accepting the form and taking a seat in the waiting room of the plastic surgery clinic you were currently at.

you scan over the details of the form. most of it was just demographic information, asking you your age, gender, a little about your daily activities, whether or not you actively exercised, all the simple questions.

you were feeling a little desperate when you finally decided to make a first consultation at the most well-renowned plastic surgery clinic in seoul. you had been thinking about doing it for a while now, but lately the feeling of disgust at being in your own body was overwhelming.

your parents didn’t understand why you’d want to do anything to the body they brought into this world. your friends thought plastic surgery was an excessive response and that it could potentially be dangerous. but none of them understood what it felt like to wake up everyday and be reminded that you were stuck in this body, the fear that no-one will ever be able to love you and that you’d consequently end up alone for the rest of your pitiful life.

your grip on the pen grows a little tighter as you remind yourself why you’re here.

you feel a set of eyes on you as you’re getting to the end of the form, so you look up, locking eyes with a gorgeous woman in a clean white lab coat, curious eyes behind a set of thick spectacles that frame her face perfectly. with all your experience analysing how you look you can't help but think she would be the perfect reference for your surgical procedures.

but you're also hit with thoughts of why is she looking at me? is she judging me? i bet she's judging me. fuck what is she looking at? is it my legs? my arms? my nose? is she thinking i'm an unsolveable case? fuck i shouldn't have come here. i should go now-

"hi, y/n?"

you're snapped out of your thoughts when you realise the pretty woman is now standing in front of you.

"y-yes." you curse at the stutter but she pays it no mind, offering a smile.

"the receptionist gave me your name. i'm dr im but you can call my nayeon. do you want to come with me?"

your eyes widen when she introduces herself. dr im. the most well-renowned plastic surgeon in the industry. you heard rumours that she had waitlists up to 20 years long and that you couldn't get an appointment with her except through referral. she was the one who brought this clinic its reputation of the leading plastic surgery clinic in the country.

"i-i'm sorry there must be some mistake? i didn't think the dr. im would be my advising clinician today."

she smiles again, "well no i wasn't meant to be but i came to grab some files from the front desk and i saw you and asked jiyeon," she gestures to the receptionist who handed you your form, "and found out you were here for an advisory session and forgive me if i'm being forward but i just thought you were beautiful and wondered what you possibly could've wanted to get done."

you feel your cheeks rapidly heat up as you gape up at her in shock.

"i can call back the previous doctor who was assigned to you if you want! i didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable i'm sorry if i-"

you interrupt her quickly, "no no! sorry that was just a surprise to me i definitely wasn't expecting that from you but um- yeah sure we can go now i'm fine with you being my doctor."

she grins then, and you're entranced by her slightly larger front teeth that make an appearance, "great! follow me."

you stand up a little frantically, gathering all your things and quickly following dr im.

it's more of an office than a doctor's room, you note the expensive leather and framed awards and certifications hanging on her wall, the neatly organised desk and pretty flowers that decorate and give the room some colour.

you sit cautiously in one of the chairs in front of her desk as she moves to sit in hers

"water?" she offers you.

you shake your head no, glancing down at your hands and fiddling with them just to be able to do something.

she looks over your form very briefly before looking back to you with a kind smile. "so what were you hoping to get out of coming here today y/n?"

you can't look up at her, "u-um just... y'know. like... everything..."

she cocks her head, "everything?"

"yeah like... face, body, all of it."

nayeon frowns, "that would be quite an expensive procedure."

"oh money's not really a problem. i've saved up a lot for this." you try to joke a little, if only to ease your own nerves, "worked my ass off all throughout high school and college so i could do this one day."

"you don't want to spend that money on anything else?"

you're confused and finally look up at her, "well i mean sure there are plenty of things i could spend it on but this is something i've thought about for a long time now and i'm finally ready to do it."

she's quiet for a little, seeming to be deep in thought, before she speaks up, "y/n... has someone made you feel like this?"

you frown, your sweaty hands gripping your pants tighter, "i'm sorry what does this have to do with my appointment?"

"i want to make sure you're doing this for the right reason. wanting to alter your entire body is a big decision and it can have lasting impacts. i don't want you to regret it afterwards."

you're getting more and more frustrated. this was a famous plastic surgeon who dealt with thousands of surgeries and has probably met cases like yours but she still doesn't seem to understand you. just like your parents and your friends, no-one understood.

"why does it matter to you? i want to get lots of things done that’ll make you lots of money and that really should be your only concern."

she narrows her eyes at you, “y/n, i couldn’t care less about the money. look around.” she gestures to her office, all the expensive trinkets and decorations she has lying around, “i have enough money to support a family for 100 lifetimes. what i do care about are my clients-”

you burst, “what do you know?! you’ve probably spent your whole life being adored for everything you do. people probably fall over themselves just to get a chance to talk to you! you’ll never understand how it feels to be unloved, to hate yourself when you wake up every morning and look in the mirror, to think everyone’s always talking about you, looking at you, judging you, you’re so beautiful you couldn’t ever know!”

she’s surprised at your sudden increase in volume. you had kept all of this in for so long, you felt like if you ever told anyone else they’d just think you were complaining but it was so much more debilitating than that. you couldn’t talk to your parents or your friends out of fear they’d think you were too needy or attention-seeking or whatever. nayeon was the first stranger who had shown they cared for you and you took that as a sign to release all your years of pent up frustration at her.

“i- i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to explode like that i-“

“it’s okay y/n. i’m sorry you’ve had to feel like this for so long on your own. but i just want to say, i’m not one of those people. i know it’s hard to believe when you look at me and what i’ve accomplished, but i find it hard to believe no-one loves you. and sure i judged you when i first saw you but not negatively. i told you i thought you were what i thought to be the perfect model for other people’s procedures and i was curious what you wanted to change about that.”

she’s collected herself and responds to you calmly, only with the curiosity of a scientist in her eye.

you’re unsure how to respond to her, feeling more than a little awkward now after your accidental outburst.

you attempt to clear your throat to start, “right… um so-“

“why don’t you take off your clothes and show me what you’d like to have done?”

you blush a bright red at her response, nodding slightly as you both stand and you begin to strip. you leave your underwear on as she stands in front of you, running her eyes over your body.

“um… so i guess if we’re starting from the bottom… i wanted to slim my calves down and shape them a little better… obviously um my ass i’d like to be a little rounder-“ you gesture to your various body parts as you talk, and she’s nodding, eyes focused, hands reached out as you feel goosebumps litter your skin when she gently probes the areas you're talking about.

"would you mind taking off your underwear? i just need to get an estimate of what you're talking about."

you blush again as you nod shyly, peeling the offending piece of item off you and turning as she prods and pokes again.

"um... yeah so i was also thinking a tummy tuck? just to tighten all the skin here-"

the feeling of her fingers on your body is slowly driving you insane. you're shivering a little as she runs her hand along your lower stomach, humming a little.

"um also like y'know, a boob job-"

she gestures for you to take off your bra and you do so, now standing completely naked in front of the doctor.

her hands come up and cup them, your nipples are hardening in the cool air of her office, "what size were you thinking?"

"i-i- u-um-" she squeezes a little and you take a deep inhale, trying to calm yourself, your eyes glued to the ceiling as she fondles you, "m-maybe one up?"

she hums and you feel a thumb brush across a nipple whether intentionally or unintentionally and you're suddenly clenching your thighs together praying she doesn't notice.

"so also um arm lifts, a face lift, kinda wanna hollow out my cheeks a little more and maybe highlight my cheekbones? lip fillers and a new nose, all of my scars obviously, and probably a brow lift too..."

her hands are on your face now, cupping your cheeks and she's close enough you can see the small specks of gold in her eyes and the little mole under her left eyebrow. your breath hitches as her eyes meet yours, they're so full of wonder and curiosity and you're reminded of the fact that you're very naked right now and standing in front of an extremely pretty woman.

she hums again, eyes dropping to your nose, than your lips, and you unconsciously wet your lips in tension, watching as her eyes trace the action.

then all of a sudden she's gone, moving back towards her chair and turning on her monitor. you quickly scramble for your clothes, hurriedly putting everything back on as you join her, blushing at the slightly sticky feeling between your legs.

"okay so we can do everything you just said. i'm going to need a few references-"

"you can use yourself for most of them."

she raises an eyebrow at you, a slight lift in the corner of her mouth.

"i appreciate the compliment y/n but if you're going to play that game then i'd like to say i wouldn't want to be sitting here discussing what to change about you in the first place."

"what would you be doing then?"

there's a glint in her eyes and you swallow, "helping you realise how there's nothing to change. eventually i'd get you to help me take a few pictures maybe, as reference for future customers who come in."

"and how would you do that?"

"how would i make you feel beautiful?" she's standing up and rounding her desk, taking her glasses off and placing them on her table, and you're looking up at her feeling strangely defiant.

"well yeah it'd be pretty hard knowing how much i hate myself-"

her arms now bracket the sides of your chair and she's leaning down with a clear smirk on her face.

"i'd touch along here," she's trailing one of her hands up your arm, leaving goosebumps in her wake, "here," she reaches your neck, then up to your face, leaning in to speak into your ear now, "everywhere just so you know exactly what i'm talking about. and i'd make you feel so good like you've never felt before, and i'd keep doing that until you realise just how crazy you drive me."

your eyes are lidded when you speak up again, voice hoarse and deep, "try it."

she's all in your space now, climbing into into your lap, lips closing around your ear lobe as she sucks. your eyes close and you groan a little when her hips meet yours, tilting your head back distantly wondering how the fuck you got yourself in this situation but quickly shaking that thought off when you feel her move towards your neck, licking and sucking.

soon enough she's moving up your jaw and towards your lips, one hand on your shoulder, the other one at your waist. she stops just short of your lips with a little smirk on her face as you share the same air.

your eyes meet her in a blaze and you surprise her when you yank her down, she moans when that brings your hips together even closer and you capture her lips with impatient want. her hands are tangling into your hair now, pulling lightly as your lips slide against each other, your breath hitching when she licks a tongue along your top lip.

“these- fucking- lips-“ she’s breaking away between kisses for air, panting softly.

“i can’t believe- you’d want to do anything- when i could kiss these- all fucking day-“

she’s breaking away again, leaving you chasing as she places pecks all across your face, “new nose? please this slant is perfect. these cheeks are adorable and these eyebrows shape your pretty pretty face just right-“ she’s kissing every inch of your skin, moving back down to your neck and nipping at your collarbone.

her hands are at the bottom of your shirt, sneaking up to caress the lines of your stomach and you let out a sharp inhale when one hand comes unashamedly up to cup your breast.

“how could you be making those pretty sounds if this wasn’t your body i was touching hmm?” she’s lifting your shirt over your head, sliding her hands everywhere.

"breast implants?" she scoffs as she brings her hands behind your back to unclasp your bra, flinging it behind her and moving her hands straight to cup your tits. "please darling look how perfectly these fit in my hands. and the way they spill out between my fingers if i squeeze like this-" you moan unabashedly now when she gropes and grasps.

"god i could just hold these all day-" she's dipping down, a tongue tracing the top of your breast, the hot feeling against your skin driving you absolutely mad as you roll your hips against her with a whimper.

she pushes you back down roughly with her hips, looking up at you, her hands never stopping her fondling at your breasts, she is obscene. "don't do that now sweetie. i'm meant to be taking care of you and showing you just how pretty you are to me. so you're gonna sit there and look pretty while i do exactly that mmk?"

she's taking a nipple into her mouth now, licking and sucking, and you hiss when she bites down softly, feeling her mouth turn upward at the sound.

she lavishes your breasts, leaving you quivering and flushed in her wake, she makes small comments in between periods of sucking marks into the side of your tits, her tongue has never once left your body since she started, wet trails leading everywhere.

she's kissing down your stomach now and you suck in a breath as she sinks to her knees in front of you, looking up at you with those curious eyes, completely clothed still in her white labcoat, mouth wrecked and lips in a pretty little pout. she's spreading your legs and you're fighting a little against her, embarassed at the fact that her face would be so close to you and she could see every little detail of your arousal.

she tuts but shuffles back a little, letting you close your legs again but she picks one up and starts feeling along your calf, pressing gently at the muscles there and feeling you unclench in relief.

"these don't need anything done either. you're just a little tense here. some stretching and a good massage will work those kinks right out and you won't even notice them anymore."

she's pressing down on all the pressure points to release the tension in your calves, and you moan slightly in pleasure as your head lolls back, eyes squeezing shut, cool air hitting your wet breasts, nipples perking at the lack of attention and you shudder.

you're helpless when she starts spreading your legs again, miraculous hands moving up to your knees, still kneading and massaging, then up to your thighs.

then her mouth is on you again, hot and wet against the inside of your thighs and you're squirming, breathing picking up as the tension in the room multiplies tenfold. you don't dare look down at her afraid the sight may just push you over the edge.

but hands come shooting down to her head when that tongue, that fucking tongue, licks a gentle strip from the bottom of your cunt to the top, stalling at the hood of your clitoris and pushing it back only to place a small peck on the nub and moving back down to drink in the essence flowing out of you.

"f-fuck dr im i-i-"

she stops, looking up at you with a quirk of an eyebrow, a lustful darkness seeping into her curious eyes, "call me that again."

"doctor im?"

she's back to lapping at your pussy and you moan, closing your thighs around her head, one arm raised up and holding on to the back of the chair to keep yourself upright.

"so fucking delicious. my god i could just tie you up and eat you out for hours."

you're whining, cunt clenching at her words but she's prying your folds open with her fingers, enamoured by the way your hole only seems to leak more with every action she takes, then she's licking into you and you cry out at the feeling. her tongue lashing against your walls as she moans at the taste of your core, sending shockwaves of pleasure right up your spine.

you can't take much more but she's lifting your ass and gripping, tugging you closer to her so she can explore even more of you.

eventually her mouth comes up for air and she's grabbing and kneading your ass cheeks, "these?-" her voice is a lot more gravelly now, thick with lust and she's panting slightly, "you don't know how perfect these are. they're the exact amount of firmness but still soft enough that i could use your ass like a pillow and you're talking about shape?" she sends a light slap up into you and you gasp, only clenching even harder around nothing, "just look how that rippled for me darling you need to know how fucking hot you look right now and how much you turn me on just from looking at you."

she almost sounds like she's growling with the low tenure of her voice and she's tugging you back into her, kissing your clit and sucking it into her mouth.

"d-doc- i- i- oh fuck- i'm gonna-"

she offers no response, just humming into you and you rut your hips into her at the vibration, completely helpless and positively dripping.

soon enough you're spilling over, coming with a moan, your back arching and she's licking you through it, you're completely blissed out heaving in effort before you slump back down into the chair.

but she doesn't stop. you're feeling overstimulated as she continues her assault on your pussy and you're lightly tugging her hair upwards trying to get her to come up but she's shaking her head no, and then shaking her head to tongue you side to side and you're building up all over again.

"w-wait d-doc i- i can't i just- doc-"

she looks up at you then, and holy fuck you almost came again at the sight. her slightly disheveled hair, eyes glazed over, mouth open and tongue sticking out absolutely ruined.

she's moving back up your body, kissing along places she's already left her mark on. "what did i say about sitting still and looking pretty baby? hmm?" a long finger finds its way to your folds and you're clenching in anticipation. "i said i'd make you cum as many times as it'll take for you to realise you're hot right? i'm not one to take back my words sweetie."

"f-fuck i- oh shit doc i-"

she's pushing into you torturously slow, a teasing smirk against your neck, "hm?"

"nggh fuck please- please i need- fuck- i need you- oh shit-"

"this?" another finger joins her but she stays hilted inside you, unmoving as you wriggle under her.

"ah- y-yes! p-please move- oh fuck i- please-" you're babbling at this point, almost incoherent but she's sliding out of you and then pushing in oh so wonderfully.

she's back to mouthing at your nipple, the sensitive nubs sending flares of heat down to your core, "so so pretty."

"i- yes- i- oh fuck-"

her fingers are entering you at a faster pace now, the wet sounds of your fucking filling the empty office.

all of a sudden there's a loud knock at the door and she stills inside you, looking up in slight alarm, nipple popping out of her mouth.

"doctor im your 3pm is here."

you can't help but clench around her fingers and she whips her head back down to you, wiggling her fingers a little at the feeling and you gasp.

"tell them to wait! i'll be another 10 minutes."

she's started moving inside you again and you bite your lip trying to keep quiet.

"alright." the sound of footsteps walking away is quiet before nayeon is driving into you again with renewed vigour.

she's hitting the spot inside you that's making your toes curl, her lips are back around your nipple sucking and licking, and then she's using a hand and pressing down lightly on your lower stomach stimulating your g-spot both from the inside and outside and you cry out around her as you come.

you're panting as she brings you back down, caressing your face and pushing your hair back, moving up to leave kisses all across your face again.

you're only able to open your eyes after a minute or so, blinking dazedly at her as she smiles and plants a kiss on your lips.

"listen... if you want... how about you give me a chance to make you feel loved, to show you how beautiful you are, and if you still feel that way about yourself afterwards, then i'll do all those surgeries for you personally, no more questions asked." she's soft against you, and you can't help but nuzzle your head into her neck, still a little boneless.

"okay."

"okay?" her eyes are bright as she pulls back so she can face you.

you nod with a lazy smile and she's hugging you, kissing your face again murmuring sweet you're so prettys and you did so wells.

too soon and she's lifting herself off you, helping you back into your clothes and standing by the door.

"i'm sorry that i had another appointment. i totally forgot. but i've got your number in my files so i'll message you after work today okay? maybe if you're free tonight we can grab something to eat together?"

you're shy as she's sending you off, nodding a small yes.

"okay don't ghost me now yeah?"

you blush, "y-yeah. see you dr. im."

"nayeon please. you can call me nayeon when we're not... y'know-" she sends you a wink and you only blush more, only barely stopping yourself from bowing to her in apology.

"alright n-nayeon."

"there we go. i'll see you in a bit okay y/n?"

you smile and walk out the door she's opened for you. it would still be a long way before you could be happy with yourself, but you thought maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to postpone your surgeries for a little and see what im nayeon likes so much about you.

#nayeon #im nayeon #nayeon x reader #twice nayeon #nayeon smut #nayeon x f!reader #nayeon x fem!reader #twice x reader #twice x f!reader #twice x fem!reader #twice imagines #nayeon imagines #royaltozaki

[letstrip13]

can you plz make a Chris fanfic similar to the "teach me" fanfic of matt? Except the reader likes Chris and was actually experienced and just wants to fck him? 🙏🏻🙏🏻 If you're comfortable ofc

🎱 - liar, liar

reader x chris

summary: you and chris remember an old pact from high school. what happens when you lie to him for your own pleasure?

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral m!receiving

word count: 1,844

author's note: i added those cute lil pictures to all my fics and i love how they turned out!! you can look at them on my masterlist if you want :)

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you and your three best friends walk through the front door of their LA house. you'd known each other since middle school, meeting nick in math class then being introduced to chris and matt soon after. you turned twenty just a few weeks ago. since the triplets had been too caught up in their work to visit you in boston at the time, they cleared their schedules and flew you out to have their own celebration with you. you had arrived this morning and they had taken you anywhere you wanted to go during the day before giving you presents and taking you out to dinner and a movie.

you ended off the night by filming a car video with them. it's the first time you've appeared on their channel. it was something along the lines of, “best friend of triplets answers questions about being the best friend of triplets.” they'd already done similar videos with their parents and their older brother, justin. you're understandably a bit worried about the fans, you've seen the way they are. but you know that you're just best friends with the triplets, nothing more.

well, maybe just a little more when it came to chris. you couldn't help it. he was by far the hottest guy you know. and that damn smile. he flashes you one of those signature, charming smiles as he leads you to his bedroom after you both say goodnight to his brothers.

he lets you change in his bathroom while he does so in his room. you change into sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, take your makeup off, and brush your teeth. he catches your eye as you switch, you getting into his bed while he goes into his bathroom, and you notice he's only wearing boxers and a white t-shirt.

you get comfortable in his bed, leaning against the headboard and pulling the blankets up to cover your legs. his door is semi-open and you can see him standing at the sink, brushing his teeth. “forgetting something?” you tease, referring to his lack of pants. “nope,” chris responds, mumbling due to the toothpaste filling his mouth. he spits loudly and rinses his mouth before washing his face and joining you in bed.

neither of you are tired yet, the excitement of getting to hang out after so long keeping you awake and giving you a little buzz of energy. you spend what feels like hours reminiscing on all the fun memories you had in high school. after talking about a particularly funny time in senior year, leaving you both in a fit of giggles, he speaks up. “hey, remember that pact we made?” he asks between laughs.

it takes you a moment to figure out what he meant. he was referring to a pact you made probably around four or five years ago now: if one or both of you were still virgins by the time you're twenty, you'd sleep together. your laughs slow to a stop. was he going somewhere with this? “yeah, i do.” “well..?” he asks.

you didn't think he'd take it seriously at all, it was just a dumb thing you made up in high school. but chris is the type of guy to keep his word no matter what and you know exactly what he's implying.

chris isn't a virgin, he's told you about the few hookups he's had. but he doesn't know that you've had a few as well. whether or not you two follow through with this pact is completely reliant on your answer. you've always wanted to sleep with him anyways, so what's the harm in a little lie?

“yes, i'm still a virgin.” a smile lights up his face at your words. “do you actually want to go through with this?” he asks with a nervous chuckle. you respond by kissing him which he's a little caught off guard by. considering you'd supposedly never done this before, wouldn't you be more unsure, or even shy? he didn't pay any mind to it, eagerly deepening the kiss and putting his hands up your shirt.

you pull away briefly to remove each other's shirts before chris pulls you in, immediately connecting his lips to yours. his fingers find their way to your nipples, eliciting whimpers from you as he pulls and teases them. you move your hand down to the bulge in his boxers, feeling his cock growing harder as you palm him through the fabric.

he lets out a soft groan, pulling away. “get on your knees for me, sweetheart.” he stands up as you get on your knees in front of him. you tug his boxers down, his hard cock springing up and hitting his lower stomach. precum leaks from the tip and you teasingly lick it off while you look up at him through your lashes. he makes a noise that sounds something like a combination of a sigh of pleasure and a whimper. you swirl your tongue around the tip before wrapping your lips around it. he shifts his hips forward, causing you to take him deeper in your mouth.

he grabs your hair, forming a makeshift ponytail to hold it out of the way for you as you work more of his shaft into your mouth. you move your mouth as far down as you can go before bringing it back up so your lips are wrapped around the tip before going back down again. you repeat this action, starting out slow but getting faster after a bit. you stroke the few inches at the base that you can't fit in your mouth.

your skills impressed yet confused chris; you claimed to be a virgin yet it was clear that you had experience. the thought didn't linger for very long at all, disappearing as quickly as it came. “fuck, you're taking me so well,” he praises you with a moan, throwing his head back in pleasure.

you slowly pull away letting his cock out of your mouth with a soft pop. his eyebrows furrow in disappointment but the look quickly fades when you stand up in front of him and take off the clothes remaining on your lower half.

you sit on the bed, your head against the pillows. chris gets on too, hovering over you as he presses a heated kiss to your lips. he slowly trails one of his hands down, ghosting his thumb over your clit. your hips buck up slightly, craving more of his touch. he pulls away, kissing down your neck as he pushes one finger into you. he sucks light marks into your skin as he pumps in and out, soon adding a second finger while his thumb rubs circles on your clit, leaving you moaning under him.

he pulls his fingers out slowly and brings his hands down to your hips to flip you over. now you're on your hands and knees, facing the headboard while he's on his knees behind you. he teasingly rubs his cock against your entrance but you don't want to wait around for that. you need to feel him inside you. “chris, please. no teasing.” you arch your back, pushing your ass back against him. “can't wait to feel you.”

he moves one hand up to your waist as he uses the other to guide his cock into you, causing you both to moan at the feeling. he starts thrusting at an agonizingly slow pace but he's still hitting all the right spots. “f-faster please,” you whine.

he complies and speeds up his movement while bringing his hands down to your ass, loving the way it feels against his palms as he kneads it. “i fucking love your ass,” he moans out as he gives it a slap, causing you to whimper at the painful sensation. “i always have.” he gently rubs his palm over the area, soothing the pain he caused you.

your moans have grown louder as that familiar feeling starts to build up, you're getting close. chris grabs both your arms and holds your wrists together behind your back with one of his hands. he gently pushes the back of your head down so your face is buried in his pillows, muffling your cries of pleasure. he lets go of your wrists and moves his hands back to your hips, holding you steady as you arch your back.

“i-i'm close,” you moan, muffled by the pillows. chris gets more aggressive with his thrusts, his fingers digging into your hips which you're sure will leave little bruises. your eyes roll back as he hits spots so deep, so perfectly, in a way you never thought was possible. it only takes a single minute for you to be crying out into the pillow, your legs shaking as you cum on his cock.

his orgasm follows closely behind yours. “fuck-” he groans, pulling out and shooting his warm, sticky load all over your ass and lower back. he grabs a t-shirt and cleans you up. you turn over and get out of bed, both of you getting dressed. he holds out his hand for you to take, which you do. “come on, let's go upstairs. i'll get you water and something to eat.” “okay, thank you.”

you follow him out of his room and upstairs to the kitchen, being careful not to wake anyone. you lean on the counter and you feel a small twinge of guilt gnawing at you for lying to chris. he hands you a bottle of water from the fridge. you open it and take a sip. “chris, i have to tell you something..” he looks away from the cabinet he was searching in for snacks. “yeah, what's up?”

you take a deep breath, nervous for what his reaction might be. he wasn't the type to get angry with you much but you worried you had crossed a line. “i lied to you. i wasn't actually a virgin. i just said that so you'd fuck me because i knew you wouldn't otherwise.” you look down, avoiding his gaze and preparing yourself for him to get angry.

but it never comes. instead he just laughs. you look up at him, your expression laced with confusion. “i know. you're a terrible liar.” “what?” you ask, partly out of confusion from his response and partly because he called you a terrible liar. it couldn't have been that unbelievable. “oh come on. if you say you're a virgin, at least pretend you don't know how to suck a dick.” this leaves you speechless and all that leaves your lips is a laugh.

he turns back around to look for snacks. “want some animal crackers?” he asks, offering you the open box. “sure,” you reach into the box and grab a few. you eat one before breaking the silence. “you're the best i've ever had, you know.” “of course i am. it's me,” he replies in a teasing tone with that charming smile of his. you roll your eyes and throw an animal cracker at him. of course he was.

------------------------୨୧------------------------

author's note part 2: actually go look, you won't regret it. it won't take long and it's definitely worth it cause they're really cute. idk why i didn't add them sooner

author's note part 3: you should totally go look. please?

author's note part 4: can you tell i want everyone to see them? have i convinced you yet? okay i'll stop now thanks for reading!!

୨୧⋆｡˚ tags: @chrissturniolosbitch @christhopersturniolo @mattscurlygirly @fratbrochrisgf @d3axplr @junnniiieee07 @rubyjaneaxx @leakedsturns @remussbitch @ccolleenn @sturnpooks @ribread03 joinnnn <3

#chris x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo fic

[harryslittlefreakk]

too sweet

summary: essentially porn with little plot… or .. when her boss decides that letting her go is in her best interests, y/n decides to show him exactly what he’s missing out on.

warnings: swearing, light angst, smut (rough sex, oral m receiving, slight domrry) also don’t ask me how he can receive oral if she’s on the desk ?? it just happened

wordcount: 2.8k

a/n: much like the rest of the world, i can’t stop listening to too sweet :) and to me it has ceorry written all over it!! as always please let me know if you enjoyed!! I really want to start trying my hand at more tropes and aus so please let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see!!!

my masterlist & taglist can be found here 💖 love you

“Mr Styles, I-”

“I promise you, sweetheart. It’s not a set back, it’s just-”

“I can show you, please.” You were begging and pleading like this job hadn’t been draining the life out of you for months now. You knew that Harry was right, but you didn’t want to, couldn’t, accept another failure.

“Listen.” His words were stern but his face was soft as he reached over the table, placing a ringed hand over the top of yours. “It’s not personal. To succeed in this business you need grit. No one ever got to the top without a hint of cunt, me included.”

He held up his free hand as you opened your mouth, silencing you before the words had even begun to form. “You are special. You don’t have that mean streak, and I refuse to be the one to manufacture it within you. I will find a spot in this company for you, shift people around if I have to. You need to find a role that grows with you, not one that will tear you down.”

You nodded slowly, speechless as his words sunk in. How can you be fired for being too nice? Not cunty enough? You tugged your hand away from Harry’s as if it burned you, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Is this because of the cakes?” you asked, cringing as you thought back to all the nice things you’d done around the office. If you weren’t supposed to be nice, why not put that in the job description? Under requirements: IT skills, maths degree, asshole.

Harry laughed, leaning back in his seat as he grinned at you. “In a way, I guess it is because of the cakes. Just trust me, okay? This is for the best. I’d never forgive myself if I turned you into a monster. Finance is a cut-throat world,” he finished, staring out into the office.

When he didn’t say anymore, you stood up, smoothing out your skirt across your thighs. “Thank you for your time, Mr Styles. I’ll wrap up my work and send it over to you, I assume you won’t need me past lunch?”

“No, that’s all. Thank you y/n,” he smiled, nodding as you turned away.

“Dick,” you muttered, pulling the door closed behind you. You could hardly rant and rave to his face, especially after repeatedly hearing how nice you are, but you were inwardly seething. Treating your colleagues like shit would be a good reason to get fired, treating your clients like shit would be a better one. But to be too kind? You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make sense to you, but it was still downright unfair. You had grit, and you’d show him.

You sat silent and dignified until the office left for lunch, wrapping up with the clients you had and sending the remainder to Harry. No one stayed past lunch on a Friday, so the second the last stragglers left, you rushed to the Harry’s office door. You had no game plan, except for bursting in and proving him wrong. Only, as soon as you were about to reach out and knock on the door, it swung open. “Y/n.”

“I have grit,” you told him, slipping past him into his office. It was all you could think to say.

“I-”

“Close the door please,” you motioned your head towards Harry’s seat, signalling for him to sit back down. He was frozen in the doorway, an amused smirk dancing on his lips. “I have grit,” you repeated, gaze following Harry as he pushed the door closed and circled back around his desk.

“You said that,” he sniggered, loosening his grey tie as he watched you pace around the office. “If I didn’t have grit,” you started, willing something entirely different to come out your mouth, knowing that it wouldn’t. “I wouldn’t mention that I know you spent the entire Christmas party in here with Stephanie. With the door locked. And I wouldn’t mention that I’ve noticed the way you look at me,” you finished, eyes glued to the skyline behind Harry’s head.

His jaw clenched a few times, his hands flexing against the wood of his desk. “Good point,” he murmured, his expression totally unreadable as he looked at you. “Come and sit down.”

You padded over tentatively, fingertips gripping the back of the chair as you pulled it out in front of you.

“Not there.” He pushed his chair back, tapping on the wood between his hands.

“What are you-” you started, gaze darting between Harry’s icy stare and your feet, dragging themselves the short distance to Harry’s desk.

“You came here to show me you have grit, no?”

You nodded, heart in your throat as you perched on the edge. “How were you going to show me?” he continued, his eyes unrelenting in their pursuit of weakness within you.

You knew what your game-plan was, but you weren’t expecting Harry to catch on and call your bluff. His voice was muffled by the blood pounding in your ears, your jaw tight as you tried to remain composed under his watch. He leaned back when you stayed silent, one eyebrow raising slightly as his gaze raked down your body. “What were you going to do, y/n?” he asked again, hooking one foot around yours to pull your legs open.

A tiny gasp falling from your lips was the only sound you made, the tension hanging heavy in the air. Harry reached forward, pushing your skirt up around your hips until he saw a flash of your red panties. “I think,” he started, fingertips trailing down your exposed thigh. “You were going to show me that sweet little cunt, show me what it can do. Am I right?” he continued, satisfied as he looked at the trail of goosebumps his touch had left.

You nodded again, eyes fluttering closed in a bid to expel some of the anticipation creeping through your core. “Use your words,” Harry muttered, tugging on your thighs until you landed in his lap.

You opened your eyes, inches away from his face as he splayed a hand across your lower back. “Yes, sir,” you whispered, a shiver running down your spine. His cock twitched beneath your core at the name, his eyes dark.

“From this moment onwards, anything that happens within these walls is between us. Do you understand?” Harry asked, his voice husky and yet somehow softer than you’d ever heard it.

“Of course,” you replied, hoping your eyes communicated the sincerity that your words couldn’t.

Harry placed his free hand on your hip, pushing you down slightly until his firm cock bulged against your entrance.

“What are you and your grit going to do about this then?” he smirked, his fingertips digging into your clothed flesh. You almost choked on the lump in your throat, eyes bulging as you shifted on top of Harry’s girth. His stare was like a challenge, daring you to retreat or prove yourself wrong. But you’d gone too far to back down now, so you swallowed the first taste of tomorrow’s regret and locked your eyes on his, rolling your hips across his lap before stepping off of him.

You answered his questioning frown by sitting back on your heels between his legs, reaching forward with a tentative hand to palm him over his trousers. Harry let you feel him for a second, before swatting you away to unzip his slacks and push them down his thighs.

From the moment you’d first met him, you knew Harry was objectively hot. He was attractive in the same way a friend’s dad would be - enough to appreciate but too out of reach for it to be any more than that. But now as you stared up at him, the strained fabric of his Calvins tight against the cock he was about to fuck your face with, he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

Harry tugged the waistband of his boxers down, only enough to set his length free, grabbing hold of your wrist. “No one is to know,” he growled, waiting for your confirmation before guiding your hand to his length.

“No one, sir,” you murmured, pressing your parted lips to the side of his shaft as he pulled his hand away.

“Good girl,” was all Harry could manage as your pout wrapped around his tip, your tongue swirling across the nerves. You let your saliva drip down him, rubbing it across his skin with an unsteady yet firm hand. It felt dirty, transactional almost as if he might let you stay if you performed well enough for him. But you knew you didn’t want that, and he wouldn’t want you working for him once you’d milked his cock for all it had.

You could feel his eyes on you as you pulled your mouth away from him, your hand still working up and down his length. Your gaze darted up to meet his, the hunger in his eyes unlike anything you’d seen before. He was almost animalistic, something feral juxtaposed in his features as he watched you silently, frozen in place. You willed yourself to look away as you bent further down, poking out your tongue to lick a wet line along his cock, but you couldn’t focus on anything but Harry’s face. Your arousal was pooling between your thighs, a breathy moan tumbling past your lips as you took more of him into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

You couldn’t take him all, not even close, so your hands worked at the rest of him, one wrapped around his base while the other found his balls, squeezing them gently as your cheeks tightened against his girth. Harry let out a small groan, his first display of your mouth having any effect on him, his hand instinctively tangling into your hair as if he’d been here with you before.

He used his grip to hold your head steady, directing your mouth up and down his length. His cock was knocking into the back of your throat, your whimpers mixing with groans and splutters, until he stopped suddenly, pushing back in his chair until there was distance between the two of you. You were too much, the sight of your pout wrapped around his tip too much for him to take.

“Up,” he demanded, placing a protective hand over the edge of the desk to save you knocking your head. You pulled yourself up to meet where he stood, resting against the desk to take the weight off your shaky legs. Harry’s thumb swiped across your jaw, his eyes fixed on your face. Your swollen red pout, your heavy-lidded eyes, mascara gathered under your lower lashes. You looked a fucking mess, and he was loving every second of it.

He bent down slightly, fingers slipping under your skirt to hook around the side of your panties. He pulled them off, helping you to raise both feet, before stuffing them into the pocket of his slacks.

“Turn around,” Harry murmured, nodding as you obeyed him. His fingers trailed across your hips, pushing on your back until your stomach hit the wood of his desk.

You let out a whimper as he pressed a hand between your legs, his fingertips dancing across your skin until they met your entrance, hot and sticky and so ready for him. Harry swiped a finger through your folds, a tiny chuckle the only sound he made as you squirmed, his free hand splayed across your back, keeping you pinned down. “Got yourself all worked up f’me, huh?” he drawled, voice so low it sent shivers down your spine.

You nodded, too overcome with need to form any words. Harry pressed into you, collecting your juices on his tip before pushing himself inside, eyes screwed shut as your walls constricted around him. Your whimpers turned into a string of expletives, his girth too much for you to take. “Tight little cunt, all for me,” Harry whispered, stilling inside of you now that he’d bottomed out. His hands were digging into the skin of your ass, your curves engulfing the base of his cock. “All for you,” you panted, desperately trying to find something to grip on to, something to steady you while Harry tore you in two.

He pulled back, mouth hanging open as he watched himself emerge from your pretty pink lips, his length already smothered in your juices. He wanted to resist, to be gentle with you, but your cunt was begging him to destroy it, to instil in it some of the grit you claimed to have. It was between his head and his heart, yet Harry could only think with his cock.

He slammed into you hard, your hips knocking against the edge of his desk, the contents of his drawers rattling as he drilled into you. His office was far from sound proof, and any stragglers left in the building would hear nothing but your cries and screams as he rocked his hips into yours, his cock hitting every inch of you. But that only spurred him on further, the thrill of your pleasure coursing through his veins. He landed a blow on the curve of your ass, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he watched the red hand print appear, the skin bouncing with every snap of his hips.

“Fuck, Har- fuck,” you cried, breathless as Harry slammed his hips into yours before pulling out completely. He grabbed at your waist, tugging at your dress for you to turn over. “I need to see you,” he growled, eyes completely darkened when you turned to face him. You’d never seen him with as much as a hair out of place, yet now he looked possessed by his own lust. He was messy, curls hanging down his forehead and a blush to his cheeks, shirt half unbuttoned.

He circled around your clit as you looked him up and down, eyes never leaving yours. “Taking me like a fucking good girl,” he whispered, pushing back into your entrance.

“I can’t- please, sir,” you whimpered, chest heaving as he continued fucking into you with the same ferocity as before. Between his cock, his fingers, his face, you were coming apart. He was twitching inside of you with every moan that left your lips, his own climax creeping up as quickly as yours was. He stilled for a moment, his fingers never ceasing as they rubbed pleasure into your nerves. “You can, and you will. Come for me,” he urged, grabbing a hold of your waist as he thrust into you, each snap of his hips pushing you closer to the edge.

“I’m, fuck-” was all you could cry, your mouth falling open as you shook and writhed under him, his words coaxing out an orgasm stronger than you’d ever imagined. Your eyes brimming with tears, brows knitted as you cried out, hips bucking into the palm of his hand. Harry slowed down slightly, seconds between each thrust as he worked you through your high, your cream coating every inch of his thick cock.

The second you stilled, he slipped his hand under your back, pulling you up to sit as he pulled his cock from you. Harry dragged a thumb across your bottom lip, smirking at your tiny pout as you felt the emptiness in your cunt. “Open up,” he whispered, replacing his thumb with his tip, pushing it past your lips as he worked his hand up and down the length.

You took him into your mouth for the second time that day, the mix of your juices like sweet nectar against your tongue. You were dizzy from your climax, every inch of your core on fire from the sheer brutality of his cock, your walls still pulsing. Harry was grunting and groaning, even his moans husky as he twitched between your lips, his jaw tensing as he came undone, hot cum shooting to the back of your throat.

He held a hand to the nape of your neck, grounding himself as he bucked into you, filling you up at a much faster rate than you could swallow. “Good girl,” he cooed, letting you lick every last drop of cum from his tip before he pulled away, sinking down into his chair as his hand dropped down your body.

You leaned your arms back against the desk, eyes glued to the ceiling as you tried to catch your breath, the stinging of your entrance doubled by the sudden lack of touch.

Harry kept watching you, still under your spell, unable to will his eyes away as you panted. “You have grit,” he whispered, a glimmer in his eye. “But I can’t let you work for me after that.”

“As long as you know I have grit, Mr. Styles,” you smirked, rolling your head down to look at him again.

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever

#harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles masterlist #harryslittlefreakk

[ihatelifesm]

Animal Party!

The harbingers finding out you had a pet

(Some of the animals are tigers lions bears sharks etc etc, characters might be a bit OOC cuz this is kinda a crackfic but if yall want more srs ones lmk)

Tartaglia

For him Lets say you had a pet bear it would go kinda like this, since you and him live in a big house you wanted a big backyard, he never knew why but he Never said no, his siblings could run around there so when he came home from work you were not anywhere to be found.. until he heard you call someone a “goodboy” from the backyard, his bow was already drawn as he would have a stern expression on his face until he saw you with a bear. “[NAME]…” “So i forgot to tell you…” “WHY DIDN’T YOU THEM ME SOONER?! HE’S SO CUTE!” overall tatamis loves the bear

Scaramouche

For Scaramouche you had a cat a fluffy white one, this time you went over to visit him with your cat just hanging out in her purse “Took you long enough-… What the fuck is that..” “Its [CATS NAME]…” I deeply feel like scaramouche would be jealous if the cat took to much of your attention but would warm up to the cat, not enough to not show at least a HINT of jealousy

Arlecchino

So You had a spider for this (if you dont like spiders then imagine something else) and again you went to visit her, Arlecchino actually does like spiders (or just insects in general based on voice lines) so wheb she sees one crawling on you she was surprised that you had one just hanging around, She doesn’t mind it and also gets close to the spider, Leney (idk if i spelt his name right) almost killed it becuase he thought it was creepy😞

Signora

You have a silly little snake!!! This can go either way you visit her, she visits you..OR she sees it slithering around and she calls you over “[NAME]! WHAT THE FUCK—“ “Signora! You found [SNAKE NAME]! Thank you!!” Signora would be surprised and confused..how can you live with that…THING?! Why is it built like that… Signora is ALRIGHT with your pet she isn’t to fond with it but would take care of it for you

Pantalone

You have a cat! Not the small one a BIG one so.. a lion for him you TOLD him you had a cat..just not what KIND of cat “Pantalone do you want to see my pet?” “Of course [NAME] it cant go that bad..” It went that bad, when he came to visit you and saw a whole ass LION he froze when did you get the beast?! “Ha..[NAME] you said you had a cat..” “I know! This is [LIONS NAME]!” “Why didnt you say that you had a lion?” “It was less fun..” hes alright its pretty tame, (might get a little jealous from all the attention the lions getting…)

Dottore

Simple way to put it, you have a shark said and done same with Pantalone you TOLD him just not that detailed in your words “Dottore you like fish right? You wana meet mine?” “Sure, I suppose it wouldn’t be that much of a hassle..” Well when he cane over he wondered why your house had a pool in the backyard, until he saw the fin sticking out of the water “See Dottore? This is [SHARK NAME]! “You said you had a fish” He doesn’t really care for it because he doesn’t go swimming often or study the oceans yet but he isn’t going to tell you to give it away

Columbina

You had a swan, a elegant animal it was plain and simple so there isn’t that much convincing that the animal WONT hurt them, You and Columbina have hang outs (aka dates..) by the pond, She only REALLY opens her eyes around you (she wears the mask so she wouldn’t fall in love with someone else again but your a exception) and saw that you had a swan with you she was like a kid in a candy shop in her eyes it was a perfect animal for someone as perfect as you! She loves your swan and has a good relationship with it

Sandrone

You had a hamster (a FAT one) it was just in your hands eating sunflower seeds (ofc it is..) as you were going to find your beloved Sandrone “[NAME] whats the dust in your hand for?” “Its my Hamster!” “What..” Sandrone is sarcastic so she does make jokes how its a fucking FATASS but she secretly thinks its cute and would do anything for that little fur-ball

Capitano

You have a fox! I feel like when he found out you didn’t know he was off today, so you were outside playing with your little fox friend while he looked at you, even if his face was covered he had a small soft smile who ever knew that his s/o could be so cute..but he doesn’t know much about taking care of animals so he loves hearing you talk about it and slowly warms up to your fox!^^

Peirro

Last but not least! You owned a monkey (it or a spider monkey) but you and your monkey go EVERYWHERE together so its not hard for him to figure it out, since you two starting dating he was introduced to your monkey, he doesn’t mind that silly little fella he just wants to spend time with you and sometimes when your off doing errands or something else, your monkey just hangs out with Peirro, one time, Peirro had the monkey on his shoulders while in a fatui meeting (I feel like any of them would take your pet to a metting when there good with them, besides the shark… sadly)

(We are finished! I really hoped you enjoyed this!!^^ Tags: @jadestone2 )

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #harbingers #fatui #harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui x reader #capitano x reader #tartaglia #capitano #tartaglia x reader #columbina #columbina x reader #arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #pantalone #pantalone x reader #sandrone #sandrone x reader #dottore #dottore x reader #la signora #signora x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #Pierro #pierro x reader

[vickyvicarious]

"My Friend.--Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. Sleep well to-night. At three to-morrow the diligence will start for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land. Your friend, DRACULA.

Wow, what a welcoming and friendly letter! This Dracula guy seems like a good host, doesn't he?

...Except, no, of course not. I admit, in any other situation this would be the worst bad-faith reading of a relatively polite and friendly note. But knowing Dracula and the kind of games he likes to play, I feel like I can spot some unpleasant undertones. He's doing a couple things here immediately, in fact, which continue on throughout Jonathan's stay.

He's being overfamiliar, immediately overstepping a professional relationship for a more intimate one. He's being commanding, telling Jonathan what to do, even if under the guise of wishing him well. He's being possessive - maybe not quite the word? Here I don't mean it as in "you can't have him, he's mine" so much as it is arranging things for him and expecting Jonathan to fall in line and do what he wants. Jonathan is his new toy and will play along, will be manipulated into whatever Dracula wants him to do, even without direct instructions. Dracula has control of the situation as a whole, and Jonathan in particular. He is also being sarcastic, making little jokes to himself about how he knows the real situation here and Jonathan doesn't yet.

Also, significantly, he hasn't told Jonathan where he's going. And sure, he's arranged the travel so it's not a big issue. He'll still be able to get there. But he's going to be dependent on Dracula to do so, and he won't know the way out afterwards. More to come on this score when Dracula actually drives Jonathan to the castle.

#dracula daily #dracula daily spoilers #count dracula #dracula meta

[sunkissed-zegras]

could you write some Caitlin hc?

𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐇��𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ─ CC²²

─ warnings | fluff, mention of arguing/VERY SLIGHT ANGST, best friends to lovers, just a bunch of yap... sorry in advance <3

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous @plushkhiii @ilovepaigebueckerss @ajcuteee @vi0lentb3rry @paigeszn @brynsreads @delicateray and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

i feel like caitlin just gives off childhood best friends to lovers + high school sweethearts, like you guys knew each your entire lives and were like super duper close

and then one day it kinda just like hit caitlin like SHE IS **IN LOVE** WITH YOU

she's definitely the first one to "catch feelings"

i use that term VERY loosely because both of you guys were idiots and didn't realize you'd loved each other the first time you met

but she's the first one to realize it

which i feel like would cause a slight rift between you two because up until that point, it was "platonic"

she just wouldn't know how to go about her feelings and it would just stress her out, so she just began to distance herself

and in the years you've known her SHE'S NEVER DONE THAT TO YOU, so obviously you notice

and you try and talk to her about it but she reassures you and tells you it's nothing, that she's just stressed about school

which you don't buy so you just keep bugging her about it, cause she's ur best friend ur not about to lose her!!

eventually you give up after realizing that maybe she just doesn't wanna be friends with you anymore, and after you didn't show up to her game, caitlin knew she FUCKED UP

so after the game, she goes to your house and tells you that she messed up

and you both go up to your room and talk about it, she's SO emotional and just stressed out but she pours everything out to you

and you're confused at first, caitlin likes YOU????

and when you hug her and tell her it's alright, that you liked her back, baby was taken aback cause she's like WHAT

she expected you to just be okay with it obviously but she never expected you to tell her you LIKED HER BACK????

it's just so cutesy rom-com-y and just... ADORABLE and sweet

RELATIONSHIP

queen of cuddles, oh my lord this woman is always on top of you

she doesn't really process her size sometimes cause she'll just lay on top of you and she forgets that she's literally 6ft with a bunch of muscles

you've almost died multiple times

she's super duper touchy all the 24/7 EXCEPT AT GAMES

pda is cute and all but not at games because she has to keep up an appearance and being overly touchy with your girlfriend at a game isn't exactly a great image

but she'll do it anywhere else!!!!!! but of course not too much cause again, the whole image thing

she loves taking pictures and videos to everything, her entire camera roll is just you and her atp

like vlogs GALORE to send to her family and stuff, because they adore you and her relationship!!!!

and obvs the team but they get rly sick and tired quicklu

"caitlin we get it u have an amazing healthy relationship" *attachment: 8 photos of you guys giving a thumbs down with frowns* "did we rly need 8 photos?" "yes!!!!!!!!"

and she vlogs everything, like every moment with you, she's got recorded

but those are usually very sacred to her, she doesn't show them to anyone and she hearts them so that she can look at them anytime she misses u :(

she loves showing you off on her instagram stories!!! but she gives everyone crumbs, like your back with her jersey and a cutesy little heart and you two holding hands

she has posts of you guys from high school still on instagram but she doesn't really post you a lot just because she wants to be professional

but whenever she can, SHE DOESSSS (like that whole 1yr post but with u.......)

you're at every single one of her important games!!!!! since yall have been together for so long, you guys make time for each other (ofc), she'll fly you out, pay for your hotels and everything

you're her number one supporter and fan!!!! oh my gosh

because she can't respond to weird comments, YOU def can

especially the ones that are like "i can def beat her in a 1v1" and it's just some random man

"most mens players at college level couldn't even beat her, i guarantee a random guy on tiktok could🤗" "you're 5'7, think again 💀"

caitlin just laughs at the comments but you will never let anyone shit talk your girlfriend????

she finds your protectiveness so endearing like it makes her fall more in love w you (if that's even possible?"

rom-com nights are like the ideal date night - caitlin cooks the food and you pick the movie, you guys cuddling on the couch as you eat and watch the movie is like every free saturday/sunday for yall

caitlin hates being away from you, she just wishes you could be with her 24/7

if she's away from you, expect 10000+ messages from her and 10 minute snapchat vlogs of her just at the gym while she speaks into the speakers quietly as if she's being followed (shes just dramatic)

some of the vlogs are just her in the hotel room very bored, trying to think of something to talk to u about and ITS SO CUTE

"so uh... i heard that squirrels can't burp. isn't that weird and like.... kinda sad? imagine living your whole life without being able to burp, i think i would die. speaking of that, i tried making your mom's cupcakes the other day, but i accidentally used salt instead of sugar! and that's exactly why i stick to cooking, baking is too damn hard. oh shit, kate is calling me, i gotta go but uh i hope you're having a great day. i miss you like crazy and can't wait until we're together again. i love you!"

yeah she's a yapper

she loves when you do her hair because i feel like she's more of a outfit person

so she would like if you braided her hair or like curled it or something, it makes her feel good and like pretty

the one time she curled her hair without you, she burned her arm and she swore she'd never again🫠

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark headcannons #caitlin clark smut #iowa hawkeyes #iowa wbb #wbb #womens basketball #wcbb #wbb x reader #wcbb x reader #ncaaw #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa tournament #indiana fever

[lazyevaluationranch]

*pats askbox gently* there are more Thermoreceptors?

(I'm sorry ur dome was so hot; I hope its much cooler now!)

My bluff has been called! Hooray!!

I am not a neurologist, a biologist, or a scientist. If anyone with better credentials than "obsessed with emergent properties" contradicts me, listen to them instead.

Cell membranes include little portal proteins that open under certain circumstances based on the shape of the protein and let chemicals into and out of the cell. These portals are useful for all sorts of things: managing water and nutrients, sending messages to nearby cells, serving the whims of tiny intercellular cats. Science hasn't found the tiny intercellular cats yet, but we all know they're there; the existence of a door that can be opened necessarily implies an indecisive feline.

Some protein shapes open up if the temperature is within a certain range. This means that if a cell with that sort of protein in its membrane experiences a temperature in the right range, it will move some chemicals around. This is used to make nerve cells that send a message towards the brain whenever they experience a certain temperature.

Because evolution does all its best work the night before the deadline while on a Code Red Mountain Dew bender, the opened-by-temperature portal proteins are mostly copied from opened-by-a-specific-chemical portal proteins. All of them, in fact, still open for specific chemicals, which means there exist out in the world liquids you can put in a bottle that most animals will instead perceive as "a temperature between 8 and 26 degrees" So things can get a little weird.

Temperature-opening portal proteins:

TRPA1 Opens for temperatures below 12C (not air temperature, skin or body temperature, so you might be kind of in trouble when this happens). Used by hunting snakes to detect where heat isn't so they can find prey. Feels painful in an itchy sort of way.

This one also opens for allyl isothiocyanate. Many plants have evolved to take advantage of the existence of a chemical most animals perceive as itchy pain, especially horseradish and wasabi. Allyl isothiocyanate is harmful to plants, so they keep two separate components in tiny compartments. When an animal bites the plant, the compartments break open their contents mix to create allyl isothiocyanate.

"This plant tastes like itching" is a good defense against almost all animals, but some humans have taught themselves to appreciate the taste of itching.

TRPM8 Opens for temperatures between 8 and 26 degrees. Opens for menthol (peppermint, spearmint, wintergreen) and linalool (roses, orange blossoms, basil). Feels cool or cold.

"This plant tastes like cold" is a somewhat less effective defense against being eaten than "this plant tastes like itching" but it's a more widespread defense because TRPM8-activating chemicals don't harm plants and don't need elaborate two-part storage.

TRPV4 Opens for temperatures from 27-37 C. I'm not sure what this one feels like, or if even feels like anything, since it covers normal human body temperatures. Whatever feeling we get from this one, we're feeling it nearly all the time.

Plants do make a chemical that tastes like this temperature, and it can repel nonhuman creatures with different body temperatures: allicin, the flavour of garlic. Like allyl isothiocyante, it is stored in two compartments inside the plant, and combined when the plant is bitten.

Maybe this is why vampires abhor garlic. There is a feeling that, as humans, we always have. Something we don't notice, something deeper than touch. That feel disappears forever when you become a vampire, except those unbearable moments when garlic returns to you for a fleeting moment the experience of lost humanity.

TRPV3 Opens for temperatures 33-39 degrees. Opens for eugenol, found in cinnamon, nutmeg, bay leaf, holy basil, ginger, allspice, and cloves. Feels like warmth.

Plants with high quantities of eugenol, like holy basil and Japanese star anise, are sometimes sacred to buddhists because they smell nice and bugs don't like to eat them, so you can burn them as incense without worrying about all the little crawly guys.

Humans apparently think food that tastes like "warm" is comforting.

TRPV1 Opens for temperatures over 43 degrees. (The one I was experiencing in the overheated dome, which I had never felt from air before) Opens for capsaicin, the active chemical in hot peppers. Opens for the combination of temperature and acidity of fevers and infected wounds. This one we feel as pain, as burning, as flame.

TRPV1 says: Your flesh is failing, and your doom is very near.

Humanity says: This is incredible. We are going to breed plants that cause this sensation as much as possible, and we will spend thousands of years getting it right. We are going to dry this and powder this and flake it and grill it and ferment it and eat it with everything.

And when we leave earth and go into space, we take hot peppers with us. Without gravity, fluid builds up in nasal passages, and astronauts sort of have colds the entire time they're in space and can't smell food very well. But the Nearness Of Your Doom is not a smell and is not perceived by the nose, so - with their doom always on the other side of ten centimeters of insulated aluminum - astronauts can taste hot peppers. In 2002, Peggy Whitson, commander of the ISS, jokingly refused to let a replacement crew on board until they handed over the hot sauce.

We are a strange and wonderful species.

#question #ame-kage #vampires #astronauts #intercellular cats #fun post to tag #we are growing something that affects each of these. :) #there are at least three more heat-reactive ion channels but I don't think we use them for much: TRPM3 ANO1 TRPV2