#but… sassy was the final doll he was working on… he was making her as a companion for scruple after his death

[bluebluebluewoods]

[chrisbesitos]

Okay heres another Ballerina!reader x Dealer!chris idea:

Reader is WORN OUT from recital practice, but cant rest until she gets that ONE specific part just right (totally not projecting) so shes working on it for HOURS at home (even with the bloody feet, belive me, its a regualr thing) and REFUSES to stop

idk if that makes any sense but yea

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀you're in love

( warnings: angst (a little bit), mentions of blood, cursing, fluff.

( synopsis: chris helps you when things get harder and you can't stop practicing your choreography for the recital.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꒰͡⠀🩰 𝅄 💸⠀͡꒱

Perfectionism. You always were a perfectionist, at school, at university and at ballet. You have the urge to be perfect and thus fuck with your head, because you don't think you can stop until your good enough. Sometimes it seems like you never will be enough and this hurts, causes not only mentally bruises, but physically too.

Well, you're accustomed to this, because it's how your brain works. Even though the pain is killing you, consuming your feet and legs like a plague. Take a deep breath and keep going, that's what you always says.

It's been hours since you're trying to do a step of your choreography perfectly, but for some reason, you can't do it right. Well, not the way you want to do. Your phone buzzing on the floor takes your attention, almost making you fall in the middle of a pirouette, you groan as you lower down to grab. It was Chris, calling you for the fifth time.

"Damn, doll. I've been calling ya', where have you been?" Chris asks through the phone, you huffs opening the cap of the bottle, taking a few sips breathing hard. "What ya' doin'? I'm fishin' some deals, wanna eat something?"

"Thank you, baby, but now I can't." You reply, holding the phone with the shoulder against your ear. You shift your feet, feeling your fingers sore, you groan in pain. "Shit." You murmured.

"Ya' good, doll?" He asks, concerned about his girl. You nod, forgetting for a moment he's not seeing you.

"Yeah, I'm just practicing now." You bite your lower lip, you need to go back to your training. "Uh, baby, what about you brought us some food? I'll have finished when you arrive here."

"Fine, doll, mind if I choose?" You deny, so Chris okay it and turned off.

You finally could go back to your practice, now putting your phone on the mute. You can't stop more, not even for calls. Chris takes more than a half hour to arrive at your place, you didn't even notice when he gets in. The smell of fresh burgers makes your stomach groans, it's been hours since your last meal, but you didn't realize you were starving until now.

"You still doin' that shit? You said you'll be ready when I get home." He says, putting the bags on the kitchen table, he looks at the living room. The couch was out of his usual place, the tv paused on the song of your choreography and you.

You were kinda a mess. Your hair is tied in a messy bun, strands of hair sticking in your sweat forehead and your cheeks red.

"Did you get attacked by a rabid raccoon?" He chuckles, you roll your eyes ignoring him. Chris raised his eyebrows at her sassy behavior, sipping his soda. "Stop that shit, let's eat."

"In a few minutes, I need to finish this." You say, turning the music on again. Chris sits in the corner of the couch, watching you do your choreography. He smiles, he loves to watch you dance, your delicate movements and the way your body moves, drives he crazy. "Fuck!" You scream, visibly frustrated with your dance, Chris frowned his eyebrows, you were perfect for him. He rested his cup on the ground, lifting from the couch to move towards you.

"What's wrong, huh? You were perfect." Chris says, cupping your cheeks with his hands. Tears were pricking in your waterline from the frustration of failure, Chris sighs pulling you closer to his chest, caressing your back with his fingers. "You're doin' great, babydoll."

"I'm not perfect." You sob on his chest, Chris shakes his head moving you to the couch, he sits and puts you on his lap. He holds your chin, making you look at him with your tearing eyes. "If I stop now, I'll not be good enough." You say, trying to get out of his lap, to get back to your practice, but Chris holds your waist, holding you hard.

"You're good enough, doll. You're perfect f'me." Chris said, cleaning your tears with his thumbs. You sniff with a little pouty in the lips, Chris chuckles cupping your cheeks. "You're the best, babydoll." He kisses your nose.

"I don't feel like I am." You whisper, leaning your head to Chris shoulder, he sighs and massages your scalp. "I'm so tired, my feet hurt." You murmured.

"How about you stop for tonight? Tomorrow I can help you with this." He caresses your thighs through the pantyhose.

"You're gonna dance with me?" You ask, lifting your head with a smile on your lips and your eyes sparkling. You always ask Chris to dance with you, but he always denies.

"Of course no, ma." He rolls his eyes, shifting on the couch with you on his legs. You huff, crossing your arms on the chest, Chris laughed undoing the ribbon from the pointe shoe you were wearing. "I said that I'm gonna help you, not dance with you."

"You're so annoying." You say, removing the claw clip of your hair and putting it aside on the couch. Chris tugged off both of your pointe shoes, gently putting on the ground, he rubbed your feet and your fingers.

"I can leave with this." He shakes his shoulders. "Uh, doll? Your feet are bleeding, is that supposed to happen?" Chris asks with a concerned look at you, he frowns his eyebrows when you slightly nod.

"It happens sometimes, it's okay." You say, caressing his shoulder, you offer him a gentle smile, saying that's everything ok. He rubbed your legs, still worrying about your bloody feet.

"Let me take care of this, 'kay?" He kisses your jaw, gently putting you on the couch.

Chris cleaned the blood from your hurt feet, putting curatives on your fingers, he also put ice and massaged until the pain was gone. He didn't let you walk to the kitchen table, he brought the food to the couch and put on tv your favorite show, he makes sure you're comfortable and good. After finishing eating, he ran you a bath with your favorite products — he's favorite also, because he loves how you'll smell after shower — and he didn't let you move a finger, because he does all the work and you don't complain.

In your bedroom, laying on the bed and under the blanket with all of your stuffed animals on the floor, Chris caresses your thighs with his finger, kissing your lips passionately. Your hands resting on his chest, scratching a bit with your nails, a smile grows in your face when he breaks the kiss.

"You're really not gonna dance with me?" You ask, with a little pouty in your lips.

"Not doin' that shit, go to sleep." Chris says, rolling his blue eyes and lifting to turn the nightstand lamp off. The last sound in the room before the silence was the sound of your laugh, before Chris held your waist and pulled you closer.

he's just a boy in love (but he doesn't know lol) ;)

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2

taglist | masterlist

[jenchan-writingmultis]

I love your writings! Can I ask for oneshot with Vil and fem!Reader who is a prankster, troublemaker, is in Pomefiore, has a chaotic personality (something like Floyd mixed with sassy Epel's side). Her fashion sense is questionable by vil because she loves streetwear fashion (especially baggy clothes). Her unique magic lets her turning into anyone (ofc without getting that person's unique magic but imagine the moment when she turns into Neige to make vil's blood boiling)

Fluff/crack, kinda enemies to lovers, sfw (eventually A BIT suggestive)🤭

Beauty in Chaos

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪ Pairing: Vil x Chaotic Fem! Reader

A/n: hoooh this was a tough one! I hope you like it Anonnie! Hopefully, I hit the right spot for this reader! This wasn’t my best work, but I still hope you like it (╥﹏╥) Thank you so much for the request! Credits: The line breakers are from Kaomoji dividers!

Warning: SLIGHTLY suggestive, a bit of angst, mostly fluff. Rough Vil.

Reminders: Ma poupée is a French term of endearment that means "my doll". Masterlist

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Vil was confused, no he was outright appalled, not only was someone far from the vision of Pomefiore itself assigned to his dormitory, but you also didn’t even have an ounce of decency during the ceremony! Your clothing was ragged, not maintained and you had the audacity to tie the ceremonial robes like it was just some pajamas, he truly didn’t understand when the mirror said that your soul belonged in “Pomefiore”.

"Huh, didn't expect the Pomefiore dorm to be so fancy,” you walked toward Vil, offering him a lazy smile as if you hadn't just insulted him. He glared at you, then grabbed your robes, causing you to squeak in surprise. he began tugging and tying your robes properly. "Hey!" you whined, trying to push him away, but he continued fixing your "style" or whatever fashion disaster you had made of the robes.

“Stay still, you’re going to make this worse for yourself” he was fuming, with finishing touches he finally lets you go, making you huff. “Not cool dude.” you said before pouting.

“Dude?” Vil’s eyes narrowed on you, “From this day forward, you will call me Vil, or housewarden.”  he fixes your hair, his fingers brushing your forehead, making you jump back a bit. The way your “housewarden” randomly touched people made you think he might be a weirdo.

“Okay, ‘Vil,’” you huffed, rolling your eyes, which made Vil angrier. He was being lenient with a fresh potato like you, but you seemed to be testing his patience. “Enough, you’re going to need training. Your behavior and style bring disgrace to Pomefiore’s name.” Hearing that, you pouted further. What exactly was wrong with being a little bit laid back? This guy was bonkers.

Before Vil could grab you to drag you with him, since you clearly didn’t want to cooperate, a tall man with a bob haircut stepped between you and Vil. “Roi de Poison,” he called out, his smile unwavering and affectionate. “I believe Ma poupée could learn a thing or two from your gracious self, yes?” His calming words instantly soothed Vil’s anger, prompting Vil to raise an eyebrow at Rook, and signaling him to elaborate.

“She’s just new here. With your guidance, she could blossom into something magnificent,” Rook continued, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Every freshman here has an eye-catching appearance and soul, as the mirror itself has said. You wouldn’t want her talent and appearance to go to waste, right?”

Vil pondered this, his gaze shifting back to you as Rook looked at you as well. Both men examined your face, then glanced at each other, seemingly communicating through their eyes.

While your style was a jumble of mess, you had a cute face, and he’s curious how you would survive, considering you’re a special case in Crowley’s book. “Potato” he signals you to follow him as he calls the other “fresh potatoes”.

Walking behind him, Rook patted your head, leaving you feeling confused. You looked up at him as he winked, his expression reassuring. “Forgive Roi de Poison for how he treated you earlier; he was on edge because of the ceremony,” he assured you, his gaze drifting back to his housewarden. “I hope to see you shine as brightly as he does, Ma poupée,” he continued. You didn’t quite understand his manner of speaking with all the French nicknames, which you didn’t bother trying to decipher. Nonetheless, his words were encouraging, so you thanked him sincerely.

You didn’t expect such a blatant display of hostility infront of you for a first day, watching as he had the freshmen along with you in one line, you thought that the Housewarden of Pomefiore looked so weak, all dainty and feminine but you guessed wrong since he held such authority, and the way he manhandled you earlier got you excited a bit. How strong, you want to push him to his limits.

The moment you got into your dorm, you were surprised with how huge the place is, tidy, neat and gorgeous, the aesthetic colliding with how yours, the way that Vil fixed your outfit was uncomfortable too, the waistband being too tight around your waist while the outfit was too… stuffy for your taste, sneakily undoing it a bit, you thought that Vil wouldn’t notice since he was busy giving some kind of dorm rules speech or whatever that is.

“Potato” he calls out, you continued to loosen up your outfit, not even thinking that the “Potato” he was talking about was you, till you heard light footsteps and a figure looming over you, that got you to jolt and look at him surprised. “Wha-"

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, all your rustling was distracting him. Great another confrontation, you smiled, “Uh, I dunno, I’m fixing my robe?” you answered, continuing your fixing, which in Vil’s eyes you’re putting it back into the style he didn’t like so much. “Is that so?”

The other freshmen were looking at you, sweat dropping while some remained silent and waiting for what Vil will do. “Your display of disobedience displeases me” he said as he smiles, a smile that got you stopping your endeavor, “After you finish “Fixing” your attire, please come meet me here after every freshman including you, has settled in their rooms.”

Extra lessons great, you’re not quite sure why Vil seemed to have hyperfixated on you, all you did have a “unique” style! The other freshmen along with the second years give you pitying look as you settle in the room you got, usually two people share the room, and lucky for you, you got to share it with your new friend, Epel.

“Dude,” he called you out, frowning, “He’s targeting you” he says worriedly, as he takes all his possessions out, while you on the other hand, didn’t bring much but necessities and a Gameboy that your guardian decided to put in your bag in case you get bored. “I can handle it,” you declared with confidence, as you sit down on the soft cushion of your bed. “Plus, it ain’t just me, you’re targeted too” you teased which cause Epel to stiffen up.

“He kept rambling about being the “poison apple” or something, he’s such a…” Epel stopped himself which made you laugh, however, that little moment was stopped abruptly when a knock at the door was heard.

“Vil said, it’s time for your training, come on out” A second-year student calls out as he walks away, expecting you to follow him, which if you didn’t, Vil would be dragging you out of your room, you stood up, Epel gave you a sad look before you pinched his cheek. “You’re making it look like I’m gonna get sacrificed to a demon”

“You are though!”

“shush” you laughed before walking out, Vil was sitting down on an extravagant couch, teacups on both sides and an intricate teapot in the middle. “Come, sit” he invited you to sit down obediently not taking no for an answer, and by habit, you seemed to have sat down with your legs wide open, an unbecoming display for a Pomefiore student.

“Close your legs” he places the teacup down, for your first day you disappointed him multiple times now, why must he teach you every etiquette that was supposed to be learnt during elementary?

“No,” you snide, somehow, his aura from earlier vanished and he just looked like a snappy mother. You placed your feet on the glass table, wanting to piss him off further.

Bad move, before you even placed your legs up, a firm surge of magic encircled your legs, keeping them suspended mid-air. An angry Vil using his magic to keep you from staining the table; He stood up abruptly, forcing you to lower your legs on the floor, grabbing your cheeks as he forced you to make eye contact with him.

“It seems like you don’t intend to learn and respect the rules under my authority” he says, stiffening up you tried to push his grip away from you, but it was firm, it didn’t hurt per se, it was just… rough.

“Hey, let me go” you squirmed causing him to lessen his grip on your cheeks, it was squished making you look like a pufferfish, and that accidentally activated your magic, causing a little poof as Vil pulled away, eyes widening as he sees the face of Neige, staring back at him with the same surprised expression. “Sorry- I didn’t mean” you said, as you tried to turn back, to no avail, your unique magic doesn’t let you since it’s the type of magic that you can’t just turn off, Vil who looked like he just saw a ghost. “What is your unique magic?” he asked, distancing himself, unnerved by the uncanny resemblance of your face to his enemy. You groan, you were gonna use it to leave the dormitory sometimes just to roam around the campus by yourself, it sucks you already got caught, first day too.

“My unique magic turns me into another person that the other despises” you explained, scratching the back of your neck before you realized who you just turned to. “Wait” you looked at your current form, noticing who it was, you looked at the glass table, before stifling a laugh. “You despise Neige?”

Vil on the other hand seemed to not be having any of your shenanigans, this was your first day and you were already trying to rile him up, thrice.  “Do not do this to me” he warns as he clicks his tongue, your power was quite useful, you could work as a stunt double in movies. “Wow, Vil, I didn’t expect you to despise your rival this much though” Walking closer, you fluttered your eyelashes on him, it was a taunt, the face of Neige going closer to him in such a way made his blood boil.

“Come on, Vil-san” you teased him, using the voice of THE Neige Le blanche and the nickname you usually heard from Neige whenever they were together for an interview, and that made him snap, grabbing your collar, he pulls you closer to his face, his gaze on you cold, you could feel it piercing through your soul, its actually scary.

“Your pathetic excuse of wanting to be friends with me will not work on me” he murmurs, you froze a bit, noticing  how he clenched on your uniform, you immediately knew that he wasn’t talking to you but rather the person who you morphed into, feeling guilty you held  his hand, luckily your unique magic finally decided to get you back to your original form, you pulled him into a hug, unsure what to do as you rub his back.

Vil didn’t pull away, he stiffened up at first before he melted into the hug as he squeezes you a bit, an odd gesture, well it was odd for him to lose composure over a freshman.

“I apologize” he murmurs, he still wanted to continue hugging you, however, you two were in the living room, anyone can come and stay there in any moment, so he pulled away, fixing his uniform.

“It’s fine dude,” you said, smiling at him, trying to ease the tension, “We all got our moments, my bad that I triggered something in you” That wasn’t your intention, you didn’t want to see that again considering how upset Vil looked when you transformed into Neige.

“Dude again?” he sighs, although this time he wasn’t angry, maybe all that anger burst out when you shifted into someone he least wanted to see.

“Come now, it’s not bad, dude fits you! Or do you prefer dudette?” you joked as you jabbed his ribs a bit, he groaned before grabbing your head. “Behave” he scolds you, and that precious little moment was broken when Rook came, almost like he was going to cry.

“Magnifique display of affection and friendship! Roi De Poison! Ma poupée!” he says, jumping to both of you into a hug, you jolt before grunting as you laugh, hugging him back while Vil looks less inclined to hug the other back.

“Rook, unhand me” he says as he pushes the man gently, getting him to let go as he fixes his uniform once again. “Seriously” he says disappointedly as Rook smiles at him apologetically, “there is beauty in chaos Roi de poison” he continues, crossing his arms., “I’m sure you two would get along”

All of that happening in just the first day was impressive, you were quick to befriend Vil, although it was more like a frenemies type of friendship, you always end up making his head ache whenever you do things that made Pomefiore look shameful, like eating loudly, planting your legs on the couch when you go back to your dorm.

Christ! When he went to check on you and Epel’s room it was a mess! The pillows on the floor and the blankets too! Disorganized shelves, that day he forced you and Epel to wake up at the crack of dawn just to start deep cleaning your room.

Grumbling as while you were half asleep, trying to fix your bed, it was a task you purposefully did slowly, and Vil was starting to get angry as he grabbed your pillows placing it on the bed, “Why are you so slow?” he asked, pointing at Epel with his eyes, “Look at him, he finished  in just 30 minutes, you’re barely cleaning”

Hearing that you smirked, bumping your shoulders to his “I have the great Vil Schoenheit in my bedroom, do you think I’d let that chance slip by?”

You swore you saw his cheeks heat up before he went to grab the rest of your “Things” if you even call it that, “Do not test me potato, I’m not easily swayed by sweet words” he says as he puts your stuff in the drawer, looking at Vil, you do notice how attractive he was, a few months ago, you wouldn’t even give it a thought, you saw him as a mother hen cause of how endearing he was, attentive but strict, all that jazz.

Seeing him in a different light though, you can tell why a lot of his fans always thirst over him, fair skin, tall, rich, and smart, is the definition of a perfect catch.

Noticing you looking at him, he couldn’t help but chuckle, he knew that gaze all too well, a stare that his fans often give him, although he wouldn’t be fazed by it, this was the first time he saw it on you.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I’m gonna catch a cold” he teased a bit, standing up before he pushed your head down, he felt a bit flustered with the way you stared at him, so he had to. You whined a bit before grabbing his wrist, “C���mon I was just admiring your beauty” you protested, which made him chuckle. “I know”

Despite your differences, you two were getting along well.

Word Count: 2,676

[queenendless]

💗 Cafe Time 💗

A/n: Imma count this as an April Fool's prank cause it's kinda nonsense.

AU centric where JJK cast here are chibis, as is everyone else in this world, and you are the sole normal sized human there.

Cute fluffy filled crack nonsense that is short as hell and cause I've wanted to write chibi stuff for a long time.

Itafushi, NobaMaki, and HaiNana crumbs here and there but SatoSugu x GN!Reader in the end.

DON'T REPOST, PLAGARIZE, COPY, EDIT, TRANSLATE AND/OR STEAL MY FANFIC CONTENT. IF YOU ENJOY MY CONTENT THEN REBLOG, LIKE, COMMENT & FOLLOW PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

AND HAPPY APRIL FOOL'S! 💌

The tale of a regular sized normie getting teleported to a Japan where everyone but themselves is chibi sized.

Their resisting negation to cursed energy that in the strongest in the country leads to your immediate discovery and recruitment into a place to stay as well as work by a burly mid aged bearded man with shades.

Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College Cafe.

Your newfound workplace and home. Where you met some regulars that quickly became your favorites.

“L/n-san~!” Dear Yuji lifted the cookie atop him, smothered in whipped cream with a bright smile and a wave reserved for you. “Eat me~! Just kidding~!”

Your pinky finger gently ruffled his salmon haired head. “Your teasing is very much warranted, you precious boi.”

In the parfait cup filled with ice cream, whipped cream and berries, a storm cloud raged atop Megumi's brooding head. “Get me outta here or I will shatter this glass.”

Yuji's face became pale with doom, hissing at you conspiratory. “He ain't kidding.”

You reached down and pulled out said grumpy Megumi who took the shinigami dog shaped candy, bashfully thanked you, and shyly pecked you on the cheek, compelling you to smooch him right on the nose. “Favorite tsundere here.”

You dropped him down on table level for Yuji to smother his boi in a good old bear hug; his infectious smile causing his emo bae to blush and ease into it and smile back.

“Maki-san~! Nibble on me~!” Nobara sung suggested cozied smack dabbed in her macaron.

“You idiot. Why did you have to admit that out loud? Here of all places?” Maki murmured, bashfully blushing, looking away amiss her red bean filled pancake sandwich.

“Maki-san! I love you~!” An unashamed Nobara rushed outta her macaron to tackle Maki into a bean pasted draped hug.

“Here.” You lifted off their pancake cover before handing a decent sized handkerchief to the girls as you passed by, earning winks of thanks from the pair before their stained faces grew messier as they commended a make out session under said hankie.

“Konbu! Tsuna Tsuna! Mentaiko!” The orange topped Toge waves eagerly at you from his perched spot on his own cupcake.

“I see you my boi and I've missed you too.” Your offered finger was taken by the rice ball speaking boi, swinging him to land before Panda lounging in the middle of a smore treat.

“Give me a hand, little buddy, tall buddy.”

“Takana!” Toge's mini hand and your long finger were more than enough to pull the fuzzy cursed doll out, though the chocolate sauce and marshmallows stuck to his fur.

You magically pulled out a wet rag to clean him up, humming at the now pristine baby. “My gift to you, my precious Panda.”

“L/n-san! Lift off please and thank you~!”

You picked up Yu's back collar to place him atop his fruit sandwich for him to slide down the creamy path, bumping right into Nanami. “Sandwich slide, hazah~!”

“Why must you condone this nonsense?” Kento commented through a mouthful of his subway sandwich, lightly bopping Haibara on his noggin as an attempted scolding.

“He's your partner. You tell me.” Your sassiness made the stern Nanami purse his lips at you in defiance but had Haibara chortling to his further annoyance, firmly tugging on his cheeks to gargle those noises, only amusing his partner more, finally doing here and now to kiss him just to keep him quiet.

Haibara's face glowed all smitten like. “Aw I love you too – !”

“Hush you and eat.” Nanami couldn't suppress a grin as he ate his subway with his favorite boi.

“Job well done, fellow yaoi buddy.” Shoko snorted at what she just saw, lounging in her lemon tea sponge cake, raising her small palm for you to give a carefully slow high five indeed.

“Keep your hands to yourself, assassin.” Riko narrowed dagger eyes at the scarred man across the room, cherry atop her head as she floated in a literal ice cream soda float.

“Riko-sama, be cautious, now.” Misato cautioned her, doing her best to stay blended within her fruity spread.

“I think he's retired from that lifestyle now.” You assured the pair, settling their nerves down when you handed them a plush doll with two eyes, eight legs and horns for them to cuddle and ride on.

“Suguru~ They're so pretty~!” Satoru plopped red bean paste sweetness into his mouth as he watched you move to and fro throughout the cafe.

Suguru munched on the cherry that sat atop with him on the cupcake. “Despite the major height difference, I will admit they look docile.”

“In that case – !” Gojo got down on one knee. “Marry us please~!”

Geto nearly choked. “Toru, we're still dating!”

Gojo got up to kiss him fully on the lips. “Well, we've practically been wedded since day one so …”

Geto's eyes crinkled with tender mirth, humming as he kissed back. “Can't argue with that logic.”

Grabbing his hand, the albino of the two floated them both on up high to reach you. “Plus, a poly ship is very sexy~”

The fact that the iconic strongest pair landed on either shoulder to kiss you simultaneously on your cheeks touched your heart.

“Aw, I – MMPH!”

The super human chibi that is Toji threw his bagel like a Frisbee disk right into your mouth. “Oi. You. This donut ain't cuttin’ it for me. Get me some beer, huh?”

“Dad!” Megumi snapped on your behalf.

“He is a beast.” Yuji anxiously sweated at the alarmingly impressive feat.

“I wanna duel him even more now.” Maki, a fellow non-cursed fighter, got fired up after peaking outside to witness his simple yet stellar stunt.

“Eh!? We already called dibs!” Gojo flared up, steam coming outta his ears.

“Hands off, monkey.” Geto emanated pure unfiltered hatred for the brute killer.

All three men had their eyes cast in shadow as literal sparks of agitation flew between them, ruining the cozy vibe of the cafe.

Able to chew and swallow that bagel up, you could speak again. “Knock yourself out, you beast.” Whisking out a jug of booze outta the blue, you knew the superhuman killer could take it, his smug self already chugging it down with one hand.

“Physically gifted,” Yuji and Maki breathed out in amazement.

“As I was gonna say,” you cupped your hands out for GoGe to sit on, your e/c eyes sparkling down at them, “Of course I'll marry you two. Size and all.”

A giggling Satoru and an amused Suguru are over the moon with your acceptance, bringing them close enough for them to smooch your lips in unison.

However later, you got an earful of “Goddamn” from your chibi sized boss at giving someone alcohol at his fine establishment.

But, you could tolerate it.

All these cuties make it all worth it.

Especially your new beaus.

[naeverse]

Extra Credit - Finale

🏫staring. Professor O’Hara x Sassy fem!reader

🎒 preview: “Do you agree, Y/N? Will you help me help you?"

🖋️Summary: Miguel O'Hara, a renowned, attractive genetics professor,  known for his strict stance against extra credit. As a senior, you struggle to keep up with coursework and Mr. O'Hara's opposition to extra credit makes it difficult for you to pass. However, a chance encounter with you changes everything, as Mr. O'Hara becomes more open to helping you - but you must help him in return.

📕tw/cw. unprotected sex, harsh language, hate sex, rough, hand job, blow job, dirty talk, oral sex, spanking, accidental simulation, multiple reader orgasms, big dick Miguel, mutual orgasm, etc… 

📘pet names: (hers) little puta or puta (Little bitch, bitch), Chica (Girl), Muñeca (Doll), 

✏️ rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I

📖Word count: 5.3k words

🍎 Credit to Artist in header: Narutoss.ramen

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

Your climax was steadily approaching, but Mr. O’Hara had other plans for you…

Mr. O'Hara moved away from the intense desire between your thighs and slid both hands under your legs, effortlessly lifting you and placing you on his desk. You gasped at the sudden change in position as you found yourself on all fours, your bottom completely exposed to Mr. O'Hara.

He licked his lips, feeling his arousal intensify at the sight before him. It was the same sight that had ignited his erotic thoughts and rekindled his lustful desires after all these years. The captivating sight was now right in front of him once more.

Your delicious ass was raised in the air, displaying a dark red hue from his prior spanking. Your black thong, which had hardly concealed your pussy, let alone your bare rear, was thoroughly soaked. The outline of your needy cunt was clearly visible through the drenched fabric.

He bit his lip, firmly grasping your asscheeks with his large hands, his fingers pressing into your flesh. He pulled your cheeks apart to reveal more of your sensitive areas to him. Your soft moans quickly intensified as you felt him nuzzle his nose against your clothed pussy, taking in your sweet scent. You moaned loudly, pressing your forehead against his desk. "Hmm… y-you are such… a-a pervert," you whined, your hands clawing at the edge of his desk.

Mr. O'Hara didn't even hear your snarky comment. He was so captivated by the scent and the sensation of you under his palms that he was completely entranced.  Your scent was driving him wild, he wanted to taste you, see just what the bratty student from his afternoon class was hiding under her sexy panties. 

Miguel didn't hold back, instead succumbing completely into his primal urges. 

Without any hesitation, he grabbed the straps of your black thong and forcefully tore them apart. The fabric snapped instantly and slid down your hips, exposing your needy and throbbing pussy to him.

You yelped, your eyes widening as you glanced behind you at your professor. "Mr. O'Hara! W-What the fuck-"

Your words soon were cut off as Mr. O’Hara parted your slick folds with two fingers, and gave your glistening pussy a lick. You shuttered, melting into the desk, your body on all fours with your bare bottom out for Mr. O’Hara to devour until he was satisfied. 

Your taste was addictive to Mr. O’Hara. 

Once he had experienced it, he couldn't get enough…

He groped your asscheeks tightly, his fingers pressing into the flesh and spreading them wider. Your pussy completely exposed and agape whilst he licked up and down your slit, sucking on your delicious folds and clit and thrusting his tongue into your entrance. You whimpered, your juices spilling from your soaken folds at how good he was making you feel. 

Your grip on the edge of the desk tightened, knuckles turning white. You could've sworn you saw stars as Mr. O'Hara continued to pleasure you.

No matter how much you wanted to deny how good this felt, downplay how well he was treating you…,

You just couldn’t… 

There wasn’t a single flaw, or dislike about the way he was satisfying you. 

Your soft moans soon became louder and louder, the restraint you were trying to hold back slowly breaking like a dam the closer you got to your release. Your stomach was tightening, your legs starting to tremble. You felt your pussy even starting to squeeze and clench around nothing whilst he continued to lap at you like you were the last piece of fruit on the planet, and he was on the brink of starvation. 

“M-Mr…M-Mr. O’Hara!” You moaned loudly, your entire body convulsing as you lay on his desk. Your flushed face buried in the polished wooden surface, and endless moans escaped your lips.

Your moans and cries were all background noise to Mr. O’Hara. He was so addicted to your taste, your scent,

Your everything! 

He couldn’t get enough…

You tasted like the sweetest nectar. Sweet and tart, with hints of saltiness and a touch of bitterness; he could savor you endlessly, never getting enough. His nostrils flared, breathing in your scent whilst he continued to lap at your sweet spot. 

He was in total bliss, his eyes closed shut, his hair sweaty and disheveled, and the lens of his glasses fogging up due to his warm breath against your dripping folds, but he didn’t care. 

All he cared about was satiating his thirst, and making you cum. He wanted you to fill his mouth with more of your delicious essence. 

And you did just that...

It was starting to become too much. His mouth sucking your dripping folds sharply, his tongue deftly sliding through your slits and thrusting into your entrance, whilst his fingers clawed into the fat of your ass holding your cheeks apart for him to continue his torment. 

You squirmed terribly, your entire body shaking in total ecstasy. The many burning knots in your stomach started to feel too much to bear as you felt like you were going to explode. A wave of tingles continuously washed over your body along with another full of pleasure after every flick of Mr. O’Hara’s tongue against your puffy pussy lips. 

Mr. O’Hara began to groan softly, small hums leaving his mouth, sending vibrations through your sensitive cunt. The added simulation to your pussy was all it took for you to cum. 

“‘m cumming! O-oh gosh, ’m cumming!” 

You practically screamed, your entire body jerking against the desk. The knots in your stomach instantly unraveled, releasing your pent-up arousal like a rushing tsunami. Your juices soon spilled from your puffy cunt to be quickly slurped up by Mr. O’Hara. You felt him smirk, continuing to lick up and down your slit, continuing on with his agonizing, yet blissful torment through your organsm. 

Your body continued to tremble, the air in your lungs felt trapped in your throat, and the overwhelming pleasure was suffocating.

“T-Too much!” You cried out, squirming under Mr. O’Hara. He chuckled, pulling back, a strand of saliva connecting his lips to your soaken pussy that eventually broke as he stood upright.

He gave your ass a light spank, and due to your heightened sensitivity, it made you shudder beneath him, a moan of pleasure rather than pain escaping your lips. Mr. O'Hara cocked his head, laughing. 

“Hmm…we’ve only just started puta, and you already look so fucked out from just my mouth.” He chuckled, his chin resting on your shoulder whilst his arms wrapped around your waist, his cock throbbing against the curve of your ass. 

Your eyes fluttered, a scoff passing your lips. “S-Shut t-the…fuck up.” You slurred, your words barely intelligible, but they reached Mr. O'Hara's ears, bringing a smirk to his lips, his sharp canines peeking out. “Good to hear you still have your spunk.” He chuckled, running his large hand over your stomach through your fishnet shirt, eliciting a soft moan from you. He smirked, lightly brushing his lips against the shell of your ear.

“It’ll make fucking you even more worthwhile, little puta.”

Your eyes narrowed, and a low growl slipped from your lips. He was taunting you again, but you were up for the game. 

You snickered. “So eager to fuck me, huh, Mr. O? To feel my tight pussy squeezing your cock?” You hummed, slowly fluttering your eyes open, your body finally relaxing after the intense stimulation.

You glanced at him, his chin resting on your shoulder, and his crimson eyes carefully studying every feature of your face through his black glasses. He grinned, harshly taking your chin in his forefinger and thumb, turning your gaze up to meet his. 

“You are correct, little puta. I’m so very eagered to fuck that bitchy attitude right out of you.” He spat, his crimson eyes trailing over your face coldly, his grip on your chin tightening. 

“I fucking hate that about you.” 

You chuckled at his words, showing him a fake pout. “Well, it’s not changing Mr-.” 

You couldn't complete your words as he abruptly and forcefully pushed your head down onto his desk, his palm pressing the side of your face into the polished wooden surface. The action was more startling than painful, and your body quivered with fear, your eyes wide as you stared back at him.

He gritted his teeth, his voice nearly a growl. “You always have a fucking comeback to everything, don’t you, puta.” He snarled, the muscles in his arm flexing intensely whilst he forcefully pinned you down onto the table.

His eyes were a piercing red, and his sharp canines seemed to have become even more pronounced. He appeared animalistic and feral, driven by an intense desire to dominate. You whimpered in response at the sight.

Mr. O'Hara's crimson eyes locked onto you through his black glasses, and his gaze traveled down your body, coming to a halt at your skimpy black and white flannel skirt, barely covering your bare ass. He grasped the fabric firmly, clenching it so tightly that it seemed on the verge of tearing.

“I've had to put up with you parading around my damn classroom in this short ass skirt for a whole hour.” He spat, his fist trembling as he clutched your skirt tightly, his palm keeping your head firmly pressed against his desk.

"Endured you displaying every inch of skin you have, you little slut," he said, delivering another smack to your rear, causing you to jolt beneath him.

He shook his head, emitting a dark chuckle, his eyes observing your vulnerable position beneath him. 

"Now..." He pulled your bare bottom closer to his aroused member by your thick belt, drawing a gasp from your lips.

“I’m going to see what that tight pussy of yours is like… how it’ll feel around my thick cock.” 

He smirked, licking his lips at the mere thought. “You’ve been flaunting your body off all day, it’s like you were begging for me to fuck you.” 

You growled under his palm. “No, I wasn’t pervert- Ahh!” 

A loud cry, a blend of discomfort and ecstasy, escaped your lips. Mr. O'Hara's hands firmly held your belt in his hands and pulled your ass back on him, his hips meeting your rear. His cock slamming into your soaken cunt. Your eyes closed, toes curling, as you squeezed his member tightly.

“Fuck…Mierda…So fucking tight, little puta.” He growled, not allowing you the ability to adjust; he began to pound into you with long strokes; his huge length filling you completely each time. 

You couldn’t speak, nor think. Your mind was complete mush. All you could feel was Mr. O’Hara’s 10-inch cock, sliding in and out of your inner walls. Your pussy was already fluttering around him, ready to release once again.

You were incredibly sensitive as you approached your peak, with your sensitivity increasing the closer you got. 

You felt everything, his dick burrowing deep inside of you, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, the veins of his cock brushing against your inner walls and his balls that smacked your swollen clit repeatedly with each thrust. 

It was all so good… too good. 

His cock was thick and so fucking big. With each thrust, it felt like it burrowed deep inside of you, touching places that would be utterly impossible with an average cock, but with his…

It seemed as though you could feel it in your throat...

Erotic breathless sounds at such a pitch that you didn’t even know you could create, continuously escaped your agape mouth. Your tongue pooled over your lower lip to hang lazily from your mouth, drool trickling down your chin as your eyes rolled with intensity. You were thankful that Mr. O’Hara was behind you and wasn’t able to see the raw effect his cock was having on you. 

If he knew, he'd never let you live it down.

But it was so good that it was shameful, especially with it being from Miguel O’hara, your most hated genetics professor. You honestly wanted to pull your hair out at the thought, but shamelessly, you couldn’t help but buck your hips and grind your ass back onto him. 

Mr. O'Hara groaned softly, his right knuckles turning white from how tightly he gripped your leather belt. He was surprised that the material's strength hadn't given way to his firm hold.

He hated you, he really did. He was certain out of his entire teaching career that he had never loathed a student as intensely as he loathed you, but despite his hate, he couldn’t help but feel as if your pussy was made for him. 

Your velvet walls pulled him in, hugged his cock in its warm goodness and clenched him just right. It made his nerves buzz, delicious tingles of pleasure to repeatedly spread through his body. He couldn’t get enough of it, pounding his cock into you harder and deeper trying to chase that intoxicating and burning feeling.

He literally could feel your body become putty under his influence, yet you desperately grinded back on him, trying to intensify the sweet sensations. He chuckled lowly, watching you moan helplessly and ride back on him. 

He leaned in close, grabbing your hair with his other hand, whilst he continued to mercilessly ram his length inside of your entrance. “You like that, huh, little puta? You like feeling my cock so deep inside your tight little pussy?” He asked, biting your earlobe slightly. 

You couldn’t answer back. 

You were speechless... 

The only thing you were able to muster was the endless moans that were pulled from the inner depths of your chest. Your eyes rolled horribly, your grip on the table so tight that your palms hurt. 

Mr. O’Hara laughed at your lack of response. “That good eh?” He teased, releasing your belt to give your ass a smack, awakening you from your trance. “F-Fuck!” You slurred, the vulgar word being the only intelligible thing you uttered from the last twenty minutes of being fucked by Mr. O’Hara. 

You felt your juices slide down your thighs, the desk moving loudly with Mr. O’Hara and your movements. The classroom smelled strongly of sex and sweat, the only sound being heard was your shared moans and the sound of skin slapping loudly against one another. 

Mr. O’Hara was starting to become close, your tight pussy continuously squeezing the living shit out of him that was just desperately trying to milk him;

but he wasn’t going to cum before you did…

He was going to make sure of it…

He pulled out of you, causing a gasp to escape your lips. He quickly pulled you up from your position on all fours on his desk and turned you around to sit on your bottom against the polished wooden surface.

He placed your left foot, still adorned with the badass black boots, onto his shoulder, pulling your hips closer to him. His muscular build, still covered by his white polo shirt, was now fully visible to you. His typical stressed and tired expression held a smirk and beads of sweat adorned his golden face.

He grinned, taking in your disheveled hair, fluttering eyes, flushed pinkish cheeks, and parted lips that panted. The more he gazed at you in your vulnerable and fucked-out state, the more breathtaking you honestly became to him.

Even beneath all that feistiness, he couldn't help but fall in love with you...

Of course, he wouldn't admit that to you.

"Do you want more of me, muñeca?" Mr. O'Hara asked, his breath coming in quick pants. His broad chest rose and fell, causing his white shirt to cling even more to his muscular build with each small movement.

You stared back up at Mr. O’Hara and something had changed. 

You didn't know if it was because of the lust or the sex, but you had always acknowledged Mr. O'Hara as an attractive man. It was one of his traits that used to piss you the fuck off. But in this moment, it was oddly more bearable than usual.

A little too bearable...

You gulped, shooting him your most intense scowl, your breath heavy. "Yes, and d-don’t give me no weak shit." You snapped, one leg resting on his shoulder while the other lay against the desk. Your black and white flannel skirt had fallen up your legs, revealing your dripping pussy to Mr. O’Hara, awaiting to be filled once more.

He laughed at your comment. “I see you still have some feistiness left in you. Not fucked dumb yet, little puta?” You scoffed, chuckling as you stared back at him with taunting eyes. “You wish. I’ve taken…worse.” You gulped, clearly lying about his length which brought a devious smirk to Mr. O’Hara’s lips. 

“Little puta, we’ll see if you still have your fire when I’m done with you.” He grinned, causing your scowl to deepen. You couldn’t help but bite your lip when he grasped his cock in his hand, fisted it before inserting it back into your needy cunt. 

Your pussy instantly sucked him in earning a cry of pleasure to spill from both of you. You laid back on your hands as Mr. O’Hara pulled you closer by the waist, grinding his hips into you. You moaned, your eyes fluttering closed, feeling his substantial size fill you completely once again.

Mr. O’Hara picked up his pace, his cock slamming into you. He cursed, his large hand holding onto the calf of your leg that rested on his shoulder, his other hand on the desk, steading himself. Your eyes met his crimson ones, staring intently at one another whilst his dick burrowed deep inside of you. 

It was something about Mr. O’hara at this moment. His tanned lips slightly agape, small grunts of ecstasy that resonated from the depths of his chest escaping his lips, the sweat that dripped down his brown face, his black glasses that threatened to fall off his nose at any given minute; even his usual dark brown hair that was glistening due to sweat and a little matted made him look oddly…

Hot…

Something strange happened to you at that moment…

It had to have been the sex. 

That’s what you blamed it on, anyway…

Your heart quickened, your body heating up at the sight of his redden eyes staring back at you. 

It could’ve been the lust that blurred your vision or your mush of a brain making things up, but you could have sworn his eyes didn’t hold his same piercing, intense, and hateful gaze at you.

No…

Mr. O’Hara’s eyes were full of warmth as he stared back at you in admiration and maybe even…

Intimacy and fondness. 

The sight made a wave of tingles and warmth filled your being. Your cheeks reddened. You averted your gaze from him, continuing to feel his large length slide in and out of your puffy pussy lips. 

Mr. O’Hara smirked down at you, slowing his pace. “Look at me.” He whispered so seductively that it almost made you melt. Your breath hitched, keeping your eyes off of him. These emotions you were feeling towards him were so very strange, foreign, and so sudden.

What the hell was happening?

He cupped your cheek in his large hand and for the first time, since he touched you, he was gentle. His fingers holding your face in his palm so carefully, barely pressing into your skin as he turned your gaze to meet his. His crimson eyes had returned back to its mixture of amber-red hue, whilst he continued to slowly roll his hips, his length moving inside of you softly. 

Your eyebrows furrowed up at him in confusion, soft moans continuing to escape your lips. 

‘What is this? What is happening!?’ 

It was all you could think. This felt like an alternate universe, where everything that happened previously didn’t occur, yet, the soreness of your asscheeks and throat told you otherwise.

Mr. O’Hara gazed down at you, taking notice of your flustered, confused face. He chuckled, finding you to be so adorable. He caressed your cheek with his thumb, the mere action bringing a burst of warmth to spread from his heart and throughout his body. 

He still hated your bitchy attitude, your snarky comments and unwillingness to be tamed…

But just like any complex genetic question, he couldn’t help but love a challenge. 

And that’s what he saw you as…

A delicious, attractive challenge. 

You gulped, looking up at Mr. O’Hara full of nervousness. You’ve never felt more anxious than you were right now. The intense gaze the two of you shared was filled with so much warmth that it felt strange to feel this way towards him of all people. 

You still despised him and his ridiculous hair, stupid glasses, tiny waist, odd hip-to-shoulder ratio of a fucking nacho chip, and his ass…

Well…

That’s one thing about him you couldn’t hate… 

But all and all, he was still an asshole. A professor that taught your most hated class, and who enjoyed pushing your buttons just as much as you did his…

But right now, he seemed…

Different…

Mr. O’Hara leaned in closely to you, brushing his thumb over your plush lips. Your breath hitched, your face burning up profusely, bringing a smile to Mr. O’Hara’s lips. 

His pearly white teeth beaming back at you, that instead of making you want to tear your hair out, made your heart skip a thousand beats… 

It even made you feel lucky to be able to see Mr. O’Hara show you such a sight. 

He hardly smiled…

Yet, he did for you…

Mr. O’Hara was so close to your face now. Your noses brushing against one anothers. He peered at you through his black glasses, a small smirk spreading across his lips. 

“Are you going to make me beg for a kiss, little puta?” 

His voice was sweet, gentle, and tender, even the vulgar name he continuously called you, puta, didn’t hold a single bit of harshness or coldness as when he used it before. 

Your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes trailing over his face, once, twice, thrice, you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t believe this was real… 

It didn’t seem like it at all. 

Mr. O’Hara’s movements inside of your fluttering pussy had completely halted, his length filling you to the brim; but that was the least of your worries. You wet your lips, gulping once more. 

“W-what?” 

You stammered, gazing up at Mr. O’Hara in utter confusion. He laughed, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Ahh…don’t leave me hanging, little puta.” He cocked his head, tenderly stroking your face. 

“Come on…let me have a taste.” 

Those words…

It made your heart drop. 

He did it… he really did it.

He begged…

What seemed like a small thing now, it still filled your being with overwhelming pride. A huge smile spread across your lips. “Finally…I got you to beg.” You grinned proudly, staring up at Mr. O'Hara, who couldn't help the smile that began to spread across his lips as well. 

“It seems you have…now let me reward you, little puta.” 

Without hesitation, he pressed his lips against yours. His lips were soft and plush as they connected with yours. You were instantly surprised, lust and desire slowly overwhelming your senses causing you to kiss him back with much fevor.  You ran your fingers through his dark curls, clawing them and pulling him closer. 

He groaned against your lips, his hunger for you growing more and more. His lips began to aggressively devour your own, your tongues fighting for dominance in this lengthy kiss as Mr. O’Hara gyrated his hips faster into you, his dick thrusting inside of your cunt. 

You moaned against each other's lips, the erotic sounds being muffled and swallowed by the other. Mr. O’Hara’s large hands remained on your face, stroking your reddened cheeks with his thumb and cupping them in his hand like you were a glass sculpture, afraid of breaking you, yet his lips ravaged your own. 

Your mouths moved side to side, whilst pulling each other desperately to one another, trying to close an invisible gap that can never be fulfilled. 

He kissed you deeply, and passionately, yet fiercely, his teeth nipping slightly at your bottom lip. One hand moving down to grasp your waist, pulling you closer where he quickened his pace, his hips thrusting swiftly into your pink walls. 

You pulled away from his lips, completely breathless and cheeks flushed. Your eyes fluttered, face contorting into a look of overwhelming pleasure whilst you gazed up at him. “I-I-I’m close.” You slurred, your words almost incoherent. 

His breathing was also becoming more shaky. He moved his hands to be placed on either side of your body on the surface of the desk, his pace increasing as his face was just mere inches from your own.  

“Vas a ser la muerte d-de m-mi pequeña perra.” 

He breathlessly mumbled, the translation falling on deaf ears. He groaned, biting his lip, his teeth burrowing themselves into the flesh whilst his hips continued to pound into you. His thrusts were becoming more sloppy, his cock twitching inside of your inner walls sending a new wave of pleasure to ravage throughout your entire being.

You moaned loudly, endless whimpers passing your lips. You were trembling, your stomach starting to burn overwhelmingly once again. You couldn’t hold on anymore. 

Your fingers clawed into his biceps, your head limply falling back. “I-I have to. I have to-” Mr. O’Hara captured your lips with his, grabbing up your other leg and placing it onto his empty shoulder, widening them where his member reached deeper into you. 

Something that you thought wasn’t possible…

The moans that were spilling from your mouth soon became inaudible, the sound becoming stuck in your throat. Your eyes rolled whilst Mr. O’Hara aggressively kissed your lips. He groaned against your mouth, slamming his cock inside of you repeatedly, burrowing himself deeper inside of you. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! Mr. O’Hara!” You cried out against his lips, your stomach releasing the coils of knots in your stomach. Your body unleashing another intense orgasm. 

Lights flashed across your vision, blinding you for what seemed like forever. Your body trembled in overwhelming pleasure and bliss.  You squeezed your eyes tightly shut, your toes curling in your boots whilst you came in thick, juicy bursts. Your essence coating your inner thighs and Mr. O’Hara’s cock. 

Your walls clenched Mr. O’Hara’s shaft so fiercely that it pulled him instantly to his end. 

He groaned loudly, the sound so hot, especially in your state of complete and utter euphoria. “Mierda…I’m cumming. Fuck.”  He exclaimed in a strained voice. 

He gripped your waist tightly, thrusting once, twice, before pulling out, hastily lowering your legs from his shoulders. You gazed up at him, smirking, wanting to help him release. “Mmm…come on Mr. O. Y-You really going to hold out on me?” You taunted, causing him to growl lowly, his fist swiftly stroking his huge length, pants of sexy moans and groans escaping his lips. 

“You want my load, little puta? Tell me where the little slut wants it?” You bit your lip, watching his abs, biceps, and muscles flex whilst he fisted his massive length, his breath labored and his gaze focused on you.  You lifted your short skirt, revealing your luscious thighs. 

“Isn’t this where you want it Mr. O?” 

A smirk spread across his lips. “Me conoces muy bien, Chula.”  He uttered, the veins bulging from under the skin of his pelvis as with loud, strangled groans, long white ropes of sticky, warm cum sprouted from his large member landing on your gorgeous thighs. 

You watched with longing eyes, your breath still heavy from your recent intimate encounter with Mr. O'Hara. Your arms soon grew weak, the remnants of your adrenaline rush fading as you collapsed against the desk. You heard Mr. O'Hara return to his computer chair, sinking into the seat. The room was filled with nothing but the sound of heavy breathing and pants.

After a while of silence, you finally broke it. 

"Don’t think…this means anything.”  You breathlessly said, causing a deep airy chuckle to erupt from Mr. O'Hara. "Oh, Y/N, I didn’t want it to.”  You laughed, sitting up, your eyes trained on him as your thighs were still covered in his sticky cream. 

“Good…” You smirked, hopping off his desk to walk to the back of his class; there a small sink was located where you began to wash off your thighs. 

Mr. O'Hara watched you from his seat, his eyes taking notice of all of your small details. 

Your hair disheveled and nappy, the black crop top that covered your top that held the word, Babygirl in white cursive across your breasts, also held small stains of your drool and his cum on the fabric. Your skin was slightly flushed, the flannel short skirt seemed to be even shorter, revealing your reddish asscheeks from underneath it whilst you walked away. The belts on your knee-high leather boots jiggled as you went.

Mr. O'Hara sighed, looking you over whilst you grabbed a few paper towels and began to wipe your luscious thighs clean of his essence. 

His heart ached for you…

Just as much as it hated you…

He couldn't help the small smile that spread across his lips at the remembrance of your kiss. Every feeling that he put into it was genuine and real, and he hoped you felt the same. 

After cleaning himself up with a few sanitary wipes by his desk, he got dressed, pulling up his gray boxers and black slacks, buckling his pants and stuffing his polo shirt back into his bottoms.

When you returned, he was sitting back at his desk, a packet of stapled papers in his large, tanned hand and his black glasses pushed up his nose whilst his amber-crimson eyes were trained on his monitor. He was back grading, as if nothing had happened between the two of you. 

You chuckled, strolling over to your desk where your long-discarded purple backpack occupied your seat. "I'll be expecting a grade change in the upcoming days, Mr. O."

Upon hearing your voice, his eyes quickly turned toward you, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "And many more, little puta." You laughed, hoisting your backpack onto your shoulder.

"Saying that makes it sound as if someone has caught feelings," you teased with a snicker, eliciting a smile from Mr. O'Hara. He rolled his eyes, playfully shifting his gaze to his desktop.

"I'll only catch feelings for someone who can at least score above a 60 on my tests," he taunted, continuing to input grades. You laughed and headed towards the door. "Good thing I don't meet your requirements, Mr. O'Hara."

Your laughter prompted a chuckle from Mr. O'Hara. He glanced over at you with a small smile. "Yeah… you don't." 

"Nope!" you exclaimed happily. "And I've spent far too long in your class for one day, so I'm heading out. See you tomorrow, Mr. Grumpy!" You called out while walking to the door. “And thanks for the extra credit!” You exclaimed behind yourself before disappearing out of the room. 

"See you, my little puta."

He said under his breath, his eyes taking in the last of your gorgeous figure in that sexy skirt before you left, leaving him alone in his classroom. 

He chuckled to himself, an uncontrollable grin starting to spread across his face. 

He definitely couldn't wait until tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that one…because he was going to make sure that you got all the credits you needed, and he would happily give you…

His favorite student…

All the Extra Credit he could offer…

A/N:

I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to each and every one of you who has read and enjoyed my first smut fic. Your support and enthusiasm mean the world to me. I was genuinely thrilled by the positive response and how much you all enjoyed it. Your appreciation truly made my day. 😊❤

So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I'm excited to share more with you in the future, and I hope you'll continue to be a part of my writing journey. Stay tuned for what's coming next! 💙🥰

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

[theveniceangel]

So I made a Poppy Playtime OC a long while back, and she plays a big part in my Poppy Playtime AU.

Meet Holly Jolly! A kind porcelain doll who has a brave heart, and a strong connection to a certain purple feline.

BIO.

Name: Holly Jolly.

Age: She was 27 when she was turned into a doll, and she'd be 37 if she were still human today.

Specie(s): Sentient doll.

Gender: Female.

Height: 18 Inches.

Headcanon voice: Elsie Lovelock.

Likes: Catnap, art, writing, designing, helping others, tea and crumpets, Christmas, sewing, croquet, painting, reading, classical music, and daisies.

Dislikes: The Prototype, Leith Pierre, being trapped, isolation, liars, people hurting the ones she cares for (Especially her son), needles, and blood.

Crush, Partner, ETC: N/A.

Oc design based on: She's kind of based off China Girl from Oz The Great And Powerful.

Parents? Relatives?: Catnap (Adoptive son).

Friends: Kylie, Jessie, Manticat, Poppy, Kissy Missy, Dogday.

Personality: Kind, caring, compassionate, empathetic, smart, creative, courageous, strong-willed, a bit anxious but she tries not to show it, crafty, sassy, graceful, generous, protective, she's mature but can be sensitive at times, loyal.

Birthday: December 19th.

Markings: None.

Abillities: Having studied anatomy and medical science in college, and having watched the way the bigger bodies experiments are done, Holly is quite good at patching people (or toys) up, she's also a very good planner, she always tries her best to think her plans through before leaping into action.

Her creative mind also allows her to come up with creative ways of not only bringing a bit of creativity in life, but also keeping herself and by extension others alive.

Favorite drink: Fruit tea.

Favorite color: Light blue.

Favorite type of outfit: When she was human, she really liked wearing cardigans.

Story info for Oc: Long ago, there was a woman named Evelyn Snow, she was the head of the creative department at Playtime Co, and helped to make such incredible toys, but her best creation was a Christmas themed, ball jointed porcelain doll named Holly Jolly, a doll that became quite popular overtime, especially during the holiday season.

When the orphanage program began, Evelyn ended up befriending an orphaned boy named Theodore Grambell, a troubled boy who was very closed off, and didn't really trust others, how she managed to befriend the boy no one could understand, but she seemed to be the only one in the factory that Theodore actually trusted.

The two ended up becoming so close that they started to see each other as mother and son, and on Theodore's birthday, she promised the boy that she would adopt him.

Unfortunately for her, Evelyn got caught up in a disastrous situation, she discovered that the scientists in the factory were taking kids and experimenting on them, turning them into sentient toys, enraged by this, Evelyn started secretly collecting evidence of the bigger bodies experiments, and ended up learning quite a lot about how the experiments worked.

On a rather dark day, her soon to be son Theodore was in a terrible accident that left him hanging on for dear life, Evelyn begged the scientists to let her see her son but they cruelly refused.

Evelyn knew in her heart it was only a matter of time before Theodore would be experimented on, so she decided enough was enough and decided she was finally gonna reveal these twisted experiments to the public, before she could even leave however, she was caught and outted to the scientists, and her scheme was revealed.

In order to silence her, the scientists experimented on her and turned her into the very doll she created.

Despite her terrible situation, she was still determined to reunite with her son, unbeknownst to Holly, her strong bond with Theodore posed as a threat to the entity known as The Prototype, he knew that Theo's bond with her could throw a wrench in his plan, so with that in mind, The Prototype captured Holly and locked her in a closet in the school, where she has spent an entire decade, heartbroken and alone.

Little did she know that a certain brunette and her rag-tag group of friends would end up freeing her, and would end up being the key to reuniting with her son.

Credit to Ghostly-NightOwl on DeviantArt for the base.

@bumblehoneybee @citruslullabies @queenofwerewolves

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 43 – ENEMIES TO LOVERS

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: imposterhuman

I pretty much love all of the ideas and AUs that imposterhuman comes up with for these boys, they're so much fun! Especially the ones where they are clearly rivals, which is why I chose to rec them here. The characterizations are spot on, and I really love the dialogue – imposterhuman writes fantastic sassy banter.

Here's some of their work that I think you should check out:

the new romeo and juliet

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: G Words: 2,179 Tags: No Powers AU, Firefighter Bucky, Detective Tony

Summary: Bucky and Tony weren’t dating, because a firefighter and a detective couldn’t date (never mind that Tony hadn’t slept with anyone else since their thing had started, and he and Bucky hung out with an alarming frequency, and the whole precinct thought that they were an item). It didn't matter how many nights they spent together, how Bucky had a drawer of Tony's things and vice versa, they just couldn't. It was a classic Romeo and Juliet situation, if Romeo and Juliet actively disliked each other on top of everything.

Reasons why I love it: Aw, look at our idiots in love, they're adorable. The dialogue in this is hilarious, and I really enjoyed the rivalry between the different departments. And of course, it takes a kick in the ass for Bucky and Tony to finally admit how they're feeling. I love it, and I bet you will too!

all dressed up for a hit and run

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: G Words: 2,174 Tags: FBI Agent Bucky, Criminal Tony, Flirting

Summary: “I’m not sleeping with a criminal,” Bucky said sternly, trying to pretend like his resolve wasn’t wavering. “C’mon, baby,” Tony purred, raking a nail down his chest. “You’ve got nothing on me. Innocent until proven guilty, right? Technically, I’m not a criminal.” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You’ve stolen billions of dollars worth of artwork.” “Allegedly,” Tony shrugged artfully. “Everyone needs a hobby."

Reasons why I love it: Oooh, Bucky, my man, you're in danger. Tony is sexy as hell as an untouchable art thief, Bucky doesn't stand a chance at resisting him. I love the UST in their dialogue, and the entire setting just makes me want to read a whole novel about this verse. It's amazing, and I really hope you give it a shot for yourself!

white flag

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: G Words: 1,005 Tags: High School AU, Science Bowl, Banter

Summary: “You sound uncertain,” Bucky said. “Maybe you should give up. In fact-” he dug in his pocket for a moment, producing a piece of white cloth that he thrust at Tony. “Here.” “Ew, Barnes,” Pepper wrinkled her nose. “No one but Tony wants to see your dirty underwear.” He barely spared her a glance, intense gaze focused on Tony. “It’s a white flag, and you better start waving it now, doll.” “Does he just… carry that around?” Rhodey asked quietly. “Like, all the time?” “Probably,” Bruce said placidly. “He does seem like the type.” Tony ignored them and pushed Bucky’s white flag back at him. “The only thing that I will be waving is your decapitated head on a stick in front of your weeping mother!”

Reasons why I love it: Tony is such a little shit, I love it! And I bet Bucky loves it too, that little faker. I would read a million more words in this verse, as is the case for pretty much all of these, really. This fic is fantastic, and I hope you go and check it out for yourself!

a pirate's life for me

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: T Words: 4,295 Tags: Pirates, One Night Stands, Pining

Summary: If Bucky Barnes didn’t stop chasing him across the seven seas, Tony was going to have to do something drastic, probably involving cannons, illegal activity, and a shit ton of rum. “You need to sort out your relationship with Barnes,” Rhodey scolded. “He’s chasing you like a scorned lover.” “Scorned?” Tony scoffed, shaking his head. “I was perfectly courteous the morning after. It was a mutual decision to not see each other again, seeing as he’s supposed to arrest me on sight.” “You left before he woke up, didn’t leave a note, and stole something valuable, didn’t you?” Rhodey looked to the sky like he was praying for strength. “Tony, if we get arrested because you had a one-night stand with the commodore’s first mate, I will send you to the gallows myself.”

Reasons why I love it: I grew up with Pirates of the Carribean, so this fic was like catnip to me. The reference are perfect, I love the banter between Tony's crew, and of course, the Winteriron is magnificent. I adore this fic, and I bet you will too, so I hope you'll check it out!

suicidal stolen art

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: G Words: 1,871 Tags: No Powers AU, Thieves, Flirting

Summary: Tony was going to kill Bucky Barnes. Tony was going to cut the other thief’s flesh arm off and beat him with it. It was bad enough that they were both running jobs in the same building, but they had to be going for the same necklace, too. Really, the universe hated Tony. He stared at the ceiling, sending up a very nasty prayer in case someone was listening, then turned back to the job at hand.

Reasons why I love it: I really enjoyed the back-and-forth in this one. They're clearly both equally skilled, and the power play that comes with that is just delicious. I love this one, and I bet you will too, so you should definitely read it!

[silverbladexyz]

May I request headcanons of Yukito the “insanely smart and hot detective” with a fem s/o who is the “insanely really smart and divine old money heiress of her successful family”😩

My insanely smart and hot anon, why of course~ ;)

The image does not belong to me. It belongs to it's original owner.

TW: None.

Ayatsuji with a really smart fem!S/O who is a divine money heiress

-Two words: power couple

-An intelligent and sassy detective with an equally as intelligent and wealthy partner? The vibes you two give off scream 'cool' and 'dangerous'; almost as if Fyodor and Dazai were in a relationship although this isn't about them

-Ayatsuji loves how smart you are. He thinks a lot of people in his life are slow and dumb, and it’s annoying how he has to keep explaining things to them. So having you as his partner is really refreshing for him because he finally has someone who can keep up with his speed of thinking

-He brings you out to a lot of his cases. Two minds are better than one, and especially when it’s two smart minds working on a case. You help to go through all of his deductions and the evidence and help find any mistakes that he may have made. Ayatsuji is quite thankful that you’re able to cover up his blind spots

-And since you two are around the same IQ level, expect Ayatsuji to hold a lot of conversations with you that normal people would’ve had a headache trying to keep up with. Whenever you two are in a deep and ‘intelligent’ conversation, it’s almost as if you’re talking in code with him. Ango has spent countless nights without sleep trying to figure out what you two meant

-Ayatsuji plays a lot of mind games with you for fun. You never back down, and sometimes you even beat him at his own game. Afterwards you two even play a few rounds of chess and cards with no signs of exhaustion; even chatting amicably as you were trying to checkmate his king

-Also since you’re rich, buy some expensive and fancy things for him! Not anything too big and extra, but he would probably prefer matching accessories because it’s a really cool reminder of the love you have for each other. One time you bought him a princess outfit when he asked you to wear a maid outfit that he bought #PrincessYukitoAyatsuji2023

-In the rare times when you two would not be playing mind games or solving cases, Ayatsuji would make dolls with you. He has a talent for stitching them, and you were obviously intrigued with his interest, so you asked him to teach you the skill. When you finished making your doll, Ayatsuji would prop it up with his other dolls in his basement and regularly clean it

-Expect times when Ayatsuji would teach you some new stuff, whether it be general knowledge or case etiquettes. He loves teaching you, and sometimes even teases you for not knowing it earlier. But you get back at him by teasing him about stuff that he doesn’t know about

-Basically you two are a powerful and intelligent couple that must not be messed with, or there’d be hell to pay

By the way I didn’t tag some people because I am not sure if they have read Gaiden yet, so please let me know if you have read Gaiden and/or Stormbringer so I know which posts to tag you on.

@pixyys @nekokinax @pianotross @xxelfmamaxx @yuugen-benni @yukitomybeloved @arisu-chan4646

[xirustale]

The Corrupto Family Ask Box

I finally finished this! Meet the Corrupto Family. I labeled their names below if anybody is interested.

Fun fact about this AU, depending on what blood you come from here depicts how many years you can live up to.

For example:

The common humans/monsters can live up to 80-100 years. Since they are just normal pieces of code to the AU and have no further purpose.

However, if an anomaly was to get married to a common human/monster, the offspring would be live twice as long according to the anomalies lifespan.

The hybrid and quarter human/monster anomalies live twice as long as the source material they came from.

Say if their parent or grandparent was full anomaly ith an immortal lifespan, then that means it would apply the same for them. But if one or the other wasn’t immortal and was only able to live up to 10,000 years or higher, then the offspring would live 10 times that amount.

Full human/monster anomalies can live up to at least 100 centuries, depending on what bloodline they come from. That includes glitches, corrupted forms, omni beings etc.

Low class can live up to 4 centuries, middle-class can live up to 7-10 centuries, the high class get a bonus with 100-1000 centuries, and the god class can live up to in between a million years and/or forever.

…..Asking Tips

This get the characters attention you wish to speak to. Note: Not all of the characters are friendly so please use these tips before you ask your question.

The Triple X

Xirus- Say “My emperor.” Nothing more nothing less. He hates mortals, so don’t let him find out. He’s a crazy bastard who’s completely unpredictable.

Xelter- Simply just introduce yourself and explain your intentions. Then he’ll know you do not pose a threat. He has trust issues.

Xiro- You don’t have to do anything specific for him, he’s the friendliest out of his brothers.

The Parents (Dead)

Xaiver- Keep your voice at a low and don’t provoke him. He’s very quiet and soft spoken, however he’s not in the right mindset so keep watch for that.

Charla- You don’t really have to do anything specific for her, however you can offer comfort, because her and her husband could use it.

The Parents (Alive)

Via- Greet her with a friendly attitude and she will gladly give you a basket of muffins as a token for your question.

Queen Corrupto- No tips. Xirus prevented her from speaking unless he gives her permission. So don’t waste your time.

The Kids

Alt Corrupto- Say “Greetings young prince.” He’s a baby so he can’t really answer your question physically.

Banba Corrupto- He’s a silly little guy, as long as you don’t make him angry. So it’ll just be a wholesome interaction.

???-Coming soon, let’s just say it has something to do with Xirus. Hehe =)

The Rose Pink Siblings

Rosé Corrupto- Silent but deadly when he wants to be. Just try not to provoke him. He doesn’t speak much and mostly responds with soft grunts. Though he might be intimidating, he’s very chill.

Xina Corrupto-She often comes off as sassy but she doesn’t mean any harm by it. She is the strongest female in her family and won’t hesitate to give you the hands.

Special Easter Egg Characters

Gaster.EYE-👎︎□︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ●︎□︎□︎🙵 ♓︎■︎⧫︎□︎ ♒︎♓︎⬧︎ ♏︎⍓︎♏︎📪︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ♒︎□︎●︎♎︎ ❍︎♋︎■︎⍓︎ ♎︎♋︎❒︎🙵 ⬧︎♏︎♍︎❒︎♏︎⧫︎⬧︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎’●︎●︎ ■︎♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ♌︎♋︎♍︎🙵 ♐︎❒︎□︎❍︎📬︎

Xirus Backup Invert- Secret Code Entry: Type “Secret File” if you spot a folder with a X written on it in the background. Don’t make any mistakes or it won’t work. you might discover something you never knew about Xirus.

Wendy Lulu-She will often be seen in the background spying on you. If you spot her, secretly use the flower emoji and she’ll run away.

Corrupted Chara Doll- If you see it in the background, do not touch it no matter how cute it is. Don’t do anything.

[kokorowoutsu]

That whole day had been a quiet one as Ashe, Leon, Willow, Kianga, and Ruko all headed to Castelia City. Seemingly unbothered and stronger-willed, Ashe led the way to the department store to buy some fresh and nice clothes for Willow to wear -- not too much but not too little. Just enough to make sure she fit in nicely. Willow's anxiety at the big city was evident as much as Kianga's was and so the man took to holding her close between him and Ruko while she held little Cerise in her arms.

It wasn't long after that that after picking out clothing and the like, Ashe took Willow to a toy store to get her a few stuffed animals if she so desired. What Willow came out with was a rather large Gengar doll and several toys to put on her shelf. Ashe had already given her the life-size Garchomp doll she had one at the Sinnoh Lunar Year Festival, and not to mention Kumiko had insisted on coming with Ashe and crew.

After such, Ashe and family stopped by the Cafe that Grusha had been left in charge of. His Swinub he had gotten was snoozing in a corner with Wooloo while Sassy seemed to make it a point to bat curiously at Cerise and Willow over some warm drinks. Grusha also took a moment to take a picture of him and Willow who had a happier look about her with a big grin and peace signs now that she was in a quieter atmosphere. The Johtonian Meowth, Cerise, and Sassy were also included in it with Grusha's still poker face. After ruffling her hair and saying he'd be home later, Ashe and crew were teleported back to the Ranch.

There, Morgan had been spending time working on the room just right for her granddaughter. Fit with everything that Willow seemed to love from the color yellow to a sunny atmosphere and her collection of pretty gemstones she had found were ready for her. Needless to say, Willow was squealing with excitement and running around, bouncing on the bed and thanking her grandmother. However, just as quickly, she fell asleep as Ashe hung up everything and afterwards, shut off the light and left Tala, Leon's Leafeon, as well as Piper, her Daschbun, to sleep on the floor and watch over her.

Outside while Morgan prepared tea for everyone and Kianga went on about his daily night patrol, Ashe's exhaustion showed, but there was still a smile on her features. Thanking everyone for making Willow feel welcome as well as accepting them back without question, she finally opened up to talking about her own experiences with Leon sitting beside her. Morgan had heard about her death in childbirth and it had her feeling cold inside, but to know she was alive now and not buried six feet under left the Gardevoir satisfied.

That being said, there were still more stories left to tell as Ruko and Morgan would come to find out that night...

@pokemon-experiments

[satanicspinosaurus]

Finally done with holiday stuff and get to read. <3 Also look at me, I learned what a readmore is so I don't spoil anyone on this fic!

>"I almost said something I shouldn't have to him, but I don't know why you don't want to tell him." 

Gale is starting out by advocating for the audience’s drama diet, lol 

>"I like you. You're the only person who knows what it's like…to grow up like we did." 

OH SHIT. OH SHIT. OH SHIT. Like yeah, OK, I am guessing minor celebrity status? Like just people be acting weird. Makes sense Gale was pushing so hard for Octavia for the job. 

>He sighs and slowly falls asleep with his hand still holding hers.

These TWO PARAGRAGHS. Gale is back on the old patch of everything is a flirt, and honestly I don’t think he’s wrong here. Like a basic reading makes me think, yeah Octavia is going to have to walk this back a bit. Also, for someone reason my brain is REALLY stuck on the Oct- prefix here. I mean literally oct (8) and avia (bird) in latin. Idk, probably a silly whatever but my brain ain’t letting it up. 

>Everything is too much, between the crowd, having to push aside her anxiety to perform for work, being dolled up like someone else wants her to, Gale being Gale, and even Astarion.

Glad she is feeling those feelings. I have written my concern that people are pushing her a lot, and ….

>She lowered her head onto the cold metal table and started to cry. 

Yeah, wow. Fair. 

>She wipes her face quickly trying to gather herself, the adrenaline overtakes the sadness she feels.

!!!

>Astarion is standing at the edge of her gate, he looked like a raccoon when it's caught rummaging through her garbage. "Are you fucking kidding me? Did you follow us back to my house like some creepy fucking stalker?!" Octavia speaks in a hushed, angry tone. 

I AM LAUGHING. STOP THIS. I CANNOT. There’s an albino raccoon named Meeko who has some sassy photos: (https://www.facebook.com/goCMNH/posts/keep-your-snoot-to-the-sun-and-you-will-never-see-the-shadows-meeko-sundaysnoot-/10158601065042297/?locale=ps_AF) Very Astarion of him.

>"What was that? I'm a little hard of hearing at the moment." 

I love how Octavia had a little breakdown, as a treat, and decided to go full boss mode after. 

>"Well, aren't you going to say something? Thank me? Anything?" 

DUDE. That is not an explanation. WHY WOULD THAT BE AN EXPLANATION??? 

>That was locked by the way.

Well, you know….not enough I guess. 

>"You haven't earned the right to stare at me like that." He teased, as if trying to ease the tension a bit.

Ohhhh interesting. It’s a timeskip, but I would imagine Astarion basically has to be professionally stared at a lot now. Maybe he’s in control of it in a way, but I do get a slight hint that it’s still not fun for him. It also might be because he’s putting the pieces together, but still. 

>You think I'm charming?" She sits next to him, smacking his shoulder. "Answer me, or you sleep in my living room next to Gale."

I- WHAT? 

>I like Gale, I do…just not how he wants me to.

Ah, sweetie, that’s a big mood. *Stares at Asation* You better be nice, fangs. She deserves it.

>I just want to do things for me. 

The cool thing is, you can push on that going forward!

>"You are wonderful." His voice sounds small and vulnerable, this is the most open she's ever seen him. 

Ahhhh. I have a soft spot for big claims like this. It usually only works if you know the person a long time, but the contrast of big claim/ small voice by charisma monster works so well here. 

>Can't I just be a slave to fashion, love?

Oh, clever. Clever. He’s buried an issue hint within his deflection phrase. Probably helps it ring true to some folks.

>"Hold on- I'm sorry

Nice. Octavia pushing back here is so fair. Especially since we know Astarion has a buttload more life experience than her. He can take it. And even without that, he’s in a position of power over her. 

>I don't generally share things with them no matter how friendly we are.

This is a good point. I think people couple those things. Privacy and trust are separate things. 

>"Do you think you can trust me a little further?"

I wonder if this feel nostalgic for him, or it’s him trying to work it out. 

>I'll trust you as long as you don't do anything to show me that it was a mistake. Like follow me home.

I really like this. I think it’s trusting but giving firm boundaries here.

Memories of Us Chapter 7

Chapter list : [ 1 ][ 2 ][ 3 ][ 4 ][ 5 ][ 6 ]

Summary: Octavia has a lot of feelings, mentions of family obligations and stress.

As always I want to extend my love to my bestie and beta @micropoe10 💞 without her I wouldn't be posting anything.

Inspired by @cheesy-cryptid 's art 💖

Tags:

@justporo @satanicspinosaurus @sleepy-timaeus

@tragedybunny @davenswitcher @wayward-hel

Chapter 7 "these words are stones "

As Octavia and Gale cross the threshold of her house, she closes the door and leads him down to her couch. He splayed out with his arms hanging behind his head. Gale looks up at her, his face still covered in a faint flush. "I almost said something I shouldn't have to him, but I don't know why you don't want to tell him."

"It's complicated, Gale. Let's not talk about that now, okay? You need to rest." She sits down next to him and places a hand on his chest. "Lie down, I'll get you a blanket." She starts to stand when Gale holds her back, their hands still together. "I like you. You're the only person who knows what it's like…to grow up like we did."

His breathing starts to slow, sleep coming closer. "When you kissed me…Gods that must have been what it felt like to be one with Mystra…" he looks at her, a lump growing enormous in her throat.

"Gale..I..you're tired..you're not making sense. Let's talk about this in the morning?" His face falls a little and he kisses her hand, still in his. "You are incredibly beautiful. Thank you for taking care of me." He sighs and slowly falls asleep with his hand still holding hers.

She slowly pulls away and grabs him a blanket. After covering him up, she quietly takes off her shoes and exits to her back garden. Her dress drags on the floor so she picks up a bit and sits at the metal table she has outside.

The whole night crashes down on her. Everything is too much, between the crowd, having to push aside her anxiety to perform for work, being dolled up like someone else wants her to, Gale being Gale, and even Astarion. Why did she always feel so intimidated around him? Why can't she trust him like Gale says? She lowered her head onto the cold metal table and started to cry.

The tears spilled out like an overflowing teapot. All the stress she had felt these last two months finally explodes throughout her body. She's fully enveloped in the sense of self doubt, tears and sobs rolling out from deep within. Her breaths catch as she releases all of this negativity, when she hears the front gate creak. She wipes her face quickly trying to gather herself, the adrenaline overtakes the sadness she feels. Turning, she sees a familiar shadow come through the line of shrubbery.

Astarion is standing at the edge of her gate, he looked like a raccoon when it's caught rummaging through her garbage. "Are you fucking kidding me? Did you follow us back to my house like some creepy fucking stalker?!" Octavia speaks in a hushed, angry tone. She dashes over and pulls him towards the stone bench at the back of her yard.

"Explain. Now." She crosses her arms at the man sitting down in front of her, he clears his throat "I wanted to make sure you both got home safely. You two were acting unlike yourselves and.." he mutters under his breath, Octavia frowns "What was that? I'm a little hard of hearing at the moment."

Astarion furrows his brows and has a sideways frown, he crosses his arms and practically growls out "I was worried about you. Mostly you, but Gale too…he got really fucked up. More than I've ever seen. Made me ...concerned." his shoulders droop and he puckers his lips some. "Well, aren't you going to say something? Thank me? Anything?"

Octavia drops her arms putting them at her waist, "Thank you for what? Breaking into my garden? That was locked by the way. How did you even know to do that?" They stared at each other for a moment, but he was the one to crack first.

"You haven't earned the right to stare at me like that." He teased, as if trying to ease the tension a bit. She chuckles and rolls her eyes. "Seriously, what the hells are you doing here? Why did you come here? And don't do the thing you do where you're all charming and distracting and don't actually answer my questions." His smirk evolving into a playful grin "You think I'm charming?" She sits next to him, smacking his shoulder. "Answer me, or you sleep in my living room next to Gale."

Astarion looks at her confused, "In your living room? Gods, I didn't think you were that impatient." She stares at him, slightly annoyed, she scoffs "Nothing happened. Well, he told me he likes me…but I'm not really sure how to tell him I'm not…" she groans loudly and begins to tear up again.

Astarion notices and softens his voice "Octavia, what's wrong?" She faces him unable to stop the flow of her tears. "Little love, whatever could be the matter?" He reaches up and wipes her tears, resting his hand on her cheek. "I just don't want to let anyone down. I like Gale, I do…just not how he wants me to."

Astarion takes his handkerchief and hands it to Octavia. She wipes her nose and sniffles. "I'm so afraid of disappointing him, or you, or my family. They expect so much from me because of who we are…all the shit I went through because of who my godsdammed great great whatever grandmother was..it sucks. I just want to do things for me. For my enjoyment, not anyone else's. It feels like I'm nobody, just another person working in the background where I'm most comfortable."

They sit not speaking for what seems like forever, "You are Octavia. Eloquent, whip smart, hilarious, that's who you are to me. My favorite assistant. My left where Gale is my right. You two invigorate me. Without you tonight would never have happened. Even with all this other stuff." He moves his hand in circular motions in between the two of them, resting it on top of hers afterwards. "The only way you will disappoint me is if you do this to yourself. You're too damned good for that, dear."

She moves her hand a little, lacing her fingers into his. She hears his breath catch, as he tightens his grip a little. "You are wonderful." His voice sounds small and vulnerable, this is the most open she's ever seen him. Right now, even behind the glasses she can sense his gaze, now might be a good time to ask the question she never got the answer to back when they first met.

"You never told me why you always wear dark glasses indoors or at night. I mean I know you're an elf and can see in the dark, but isn't that a lot of work?" Astarion laughs, he rolls his lips in and bites one a bit. "Can't I just be a slave to fashion, love? Does everything need an explanation?"

"Fine. Have it your way." She untangles her hand from his. "You know, usually when people tell you some personal shit, it's nice to trust them a little to open up and not be such a rude…ugh nevermind I gotta go check on Gale." She gets up and turns to walk away, but he holds her wrist, tugging gently to stop her. "Hold on- I'm sorry…I just…it's hard for me to trust people. I don't generally share things with them no matter how friendly we are."

He glares up at her, from this angle she can see his eyes a little bit more. His lids were hooded, eyelashes a deep shade of gray, almost black. It didn't help that they were in the darkness of the night, or else she would be able to properly see. "Do you trust me?" Octavia looks down at him, she swears he has an almost pleading look to him, she swallows "Of course, Astarion. I trust you." He relaxes somewhat and speaks softly, "Do you think you can trust me a little further?"

The way he can soothe over whatever he did and make himself seem like the wronged party was impressive. Octavia just wanted to go lay down at this point, it was late and she was done with pretending to care. "Yes. I'll trust you as long as you don't do anything to show me that it was a mistake. Like follow me home."

She chuckles softly to tease him. She lets go of his hand "For now though, I'm going to bed. It's very late and I need to get into something warmer, I'm fucking freezing. Good night, Astarion, make sure you put the padlock back on the gate. I noticed it wasn't working all of a sudden." They laugh and she walks away from him. As she gets close to her door she looks behind her, darkness drapes around as he's vanished into the night. "Really hope I didn't just make a giant mistake."

[mango-bango-bby]

Hello! Ty for doing my other request 😊

I’m sorry if I’m being a nuisance but would it be alright to request a yandere kuroo x yn/reader with period cramps? Like they get bad cramps so yan kuroo is really really worried for his darling so he takes care of her all through it 🥺

Again, thank you!!

- 🍗 💖

♡ Heating Pad ♡

(A/N: Y’all always send in these requests at the right time!! My cramps are so bad right now and I only wish I had a yandere to take care of me 😔😔😔 Also, doll, there is absolutely no reason to be sorry!! I love your requests and you’re not being a nuisance at all 💖)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, periods, pain, Kuroo is a sweetie 🥺🥺

Summary: You gave cramps and Kuroo tries to help you (Yan!Kuroo x AFAB!reader)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You hadn’t gotten out of bed all day, not even to eat. Not by your choice. No, instead you couldn’t get our of bed because your cramps were that bad. You were used to cramps on your period but even so, every time it was absolutely awful.

You groan, rolling over on your side, pulling the blanket over your head. You hear the bedroom door open. Before you could peak to see Tetsuro, he’s already pulling the blanket off of your face. “Have you been in bed all day?” He asks, seeing you frown.

“Yes” you say annoyed before trying to pull the blanket over you again. “Leave me alone” you mumble from underneath the blanket. Tetsuro doesn’t lift up the blanket again, simply kneeling in front of the bed. “What’s wrong with you, baby? You’re never this sassy with me” He says, you feel a bit bad for being a little harsh at how worried he sounds for you.

“I’m just on my period. My cramps hurt really bad” you say softly before continuing. “It should end in a few days though” you says, as if to say you’ll be okay. “So you’re just gonna lay around in pain for a week?” Tetsuro asks, watching you finally poke your head out of the blanket.

“Yes” you say simply watching him stand up from his position. “Is there anything that can help with the pain?” He asks, watching you think for a moment. “Ummm medicine and a heating pad usually” you mumble against the pillow you lay on, grumbling as another cramp hits you.

Tetsuro lightly sighs at the sight. He hates seeing you in pain. “I’ll be right back” he says, walking out of the room and into the storage closet in the hallway. He knows he has a heating pad. He uses it if he hurts himself while working out.

He comes back, handing the heating pad to you. “Thank you” you say softly, sighing at the feeling of the warm pad against your abdomen. It feels so nice. “I don’t have any medicine but I can go get some” he says, watching you nod your head. “Thank you” you call out as he leaves the room.

♡ ♡ ♡

“Kitten~ I’m back” Kuroo calls out, opening up the door the bedroom, the bag from the corner store in his hands. He wasn’t sure which medicine would work the best so he just got as many as he could. He picked up your favorite snacks and drink too, he thought it would make you feel better.

He smiles a bit at the sight of you. Looks like the heating pad was so comfortable that you fell asleep. He gently lifts the blanket up, taking the heating pad off of you. He knows if you fell asleep with it on, you might accidentally burn your skin.

He puts down the bag he got on the bedside table, crawling under the bed with you. He’s no heating pad but he hopes you’ll feel a bit better with him beside you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ Thank you for reading, darling!!

[xxx-rozes-xxx]

Trenderman; More Headcanons and Lore:

TW: A bit of gore, dollification, body horror Sorry, this took a while to make, I was swamped with work and just finished writing an art exam. Luckily, all has gone smoothly and I can continue to write about the poor sassy mannequin man. ___________________________________________________

Trendermans Mall:

Now in my head, each brother has a mansion of sorts, however, their place of "work" is completely different.

For instance,

Slender lives in his mansion (one that has run in the Slender family for years but that is a different story) but he hunts in the woods.

Splendorman has a mansion but many places where he takes care of the kids, abandoned carnivals, a magical garden, a playground, ect.

Offenderman is a bit of a different story but I'll cover all of their places in future posts.

Trender, as I said in my previous post, lives in a dead mall. Basically abandoned yet nothing grows, not mold, not ivy, nothing. Anything in his basic presence tends to shiver away.

So allow me to paint this image in your head:

You find yourself in a dim empty mall, like when it's closing time but the lights are on. Tightness of the air, stale as if nothing inside was alive. Nothing but broken glass and falling interior, despite that the place seemed to be in good shape. However, you just can't stop the feeling of being watched. Followed by something or someone. You go into a random store just to get out of its line of sight yet as you enter you fall over something. A mannequin arm. Strange. You venture further into the store to see what it had to offer. It was a clothing store but based on the empty hangers you couldn't tell what type of clothing they sold. The store was not lit up like the halls of the mall, similar to other stores in the mall. It wasn't until you made your way to the back did you notice something out of place. A book was on the floor. Not just any book, it had a leatherback and a lock on it. You spotted it as a journal of some sort. After fiddling with the lock it finally opens, only for all of the lights to shut off and footsteps echo in the hallways, heading your way...

Yes, Trender has his own game he plays with trespassers. Though his game works a bit differently.

Similar to Slenderman and his 8 pages; Trender has 13 journals. Only 1 of the journals has the map to the mall. Like most Slenders, Trender places dark magic over the mall to make it seem endless, a labyrinth only escapable if you find the journal with the map in it. (sound familiar?) And again, similar to his brother, Trender does not play fair. Even if you manage to escape, he will still hunt and find you and then add you to his pretty collection of dolls.

Trender lives in the basement of the mall, close to the parking lots by the security office. He created a small little office for himself as well as a studio closer to the first floor. All of this is sealed off magically since intruders tend to go through his stuff while trying to escape. Thus, the reason why he uses the journals as a red herring. See, if an explorer came into the mall, they would be fine but take anything from the mall then the journals spawn, and you are screwed, to say the least.

See, Trender isn't as cruel as his older brothers, no, he doesn't mind it at all, he understands humans are curious creatures by nature but thieves will not pass in his books.

Now don't get him wrong, he understands the state the world is in and such, fortunately, anyone with a sound mind would walk into the place and immediately sense that they are not welcomed, which is why there aren't any squatters.

Besides, if you're willing enough to stay in an abandoned mall, in the middle of butt nowhere, then either you have the balls and apiol of a bull or you're really not the brightest. Either way, ignorant and stupid people are plenty in this world and Trender does not mind lower that number...

Trendermans Proxies:

Now, Trender doesn't necessarily have proxies, but if you count a horde of mannequins then, sure, he has them.

See when there not chasing after the poor unfashionable souls of humans, they're in his studio wearing his designs or in a backroom like normal mannequins are stored, except this time they are human or what's left of "human".

They are sort of like this clip from Dead Body Hijinks by Sam O'Nella Academy at 3:40. Dead but not dead.

The "Mannequins" feel pain, they just don't react to it, and they stay perfectly still until ordered by Trender to move. They'll stay and collect dust, still conscious for as long as they are ordered to.

This the part where you start to prefer getting caught by Slenderman.

See, Trender rarely kills his victims. He hates getting his clothes dirty, it's usually his mannequins who do the killing for him. And he doesn't turn just anyone into one of his mannequins, no those are for his special pieces of art. If you're some poor quality human well then you've been spared the fate of being turned into one. Sadly, you're not out of the blue just yet because if there is one thing this hippie slender loves is all-natural ingredients and to him, killing and harvesting are two completely different things.

How pretty you'd bleed for him as he uses your soft skin for leather, your hair for thread, and your bones for jewelry. Now he would never wear such a thing or give his brothers this clothing however there sure are a lot of creeps on the internet who would pay a good buck for items made of that.

He hates being wasteful, his mother has always scolded him. So even if you are not a perfect vessel like his mannequins are, you're still going to be put to good use.

He'd give the rest to Eyeless Jack to eat or also sell it on the internet but that whole ordeal is messy and so time-consuming he'll only do it once every blue moon or when he's really pent up.

Even with this horrible discovery in mind, he still is one of the more 'safer' brothers to approach because he genuinely couldn't care less for a lower being and killing them, unless you peak his interest but even that is hard to do.

*Bonus!*

A few random headcanons about Trenderman in no specific order:

Despite what has been said about Trenderman, he is still one of the "chiller" brothers.

Trender has the character of Patrick Bateman from American Psycho but is less narcissistic and chatty.

In fact, Trendermans theme in my head is the slowed-down version of Oblivion by GRIMES solely for that one "did you know I'm utterly insane-" audio.

Just that blasting through the speakers in the halls as you try and escape him in total darkness.

Inner monologues and everything

Trenderman is known for being a diva but I don't see him as a 'loud diva'

More like a salty older gay man.

He speaks quite monotone, like Slenderman

The rest of the 12 journals have old designs in them that he doesn't use anymore or just old logs of money transfers, though one of them is rumored to have nude drawings in them of Trenders favorite models over the years

that rumor, of course, was started by Offender.

It's not 100% false however that journal remains locked up.

Slender and Trender get along better than most think however because they don't need to be in the same room as the other to hear what they are saying (telepathically), the rest of the pastas assume they can't stand each other.

Trenderman made all of Slenders suits and doesn't find them tacky, however, is extremely annoyed that he wears the same type of suit.

Splendors suit, on the other hand, he thinks is extremely tacky.

Has said that it made him look like a quote, "drug-abusing clown"

Splendor cried that afternoon.

Trender has yet to say sorry.

Trenders glasses aren't just there for style, they help him see the sealed entrances to his studio or office.

A crack headcanon:

Trenderman accidentally made "the backrooms" and the "infinite IKEA Store" when first trying to figure out his magic with other dead malls, then just blamed the SCP foundation for both of it.

Actually a lot of "magic went wrong" is blamed on the foundation

They still don't know about it

Slender keeps erasing their memories

I hope you guys in join the read, again sorry for the long post and the rushed writing, I just need to get a grounding going before anything really. Working on more lore as we speak ;-)

[kutputli]

OK. Finally was able to rewatch. All Nathan and Shandy reactions only -

Nate's house!!!! We see the fancy gift car parked next to his green mini. I'm so glad he's kept it. I'm not the best about judging British class locations from their houses, but it looks like an apartment in a duplex building, a pretty modest place. How long has he lived there? Was it affordable on a kitman's salary? Or an assistant coach? It's dawn, and Nathan is at work. Still wearing his fucking branded uniform. My god. Where Ted made yellow lego players as a fun game with his son, Nathan has been actually working. And his figures all have accurate skin tones. That gleeful little 'whoops' was one of the first times I've seen Nathan actually look relaxed and smiling and having fun. And again, even in the privacy of his own home - at even the slightest hint of violence, even as a metaphor accidentally visited on plastic dolls, he walks it back almost immediately. Ted needed to be told by Henry to put the Nathan doll back from its exile (which he overcompensated for by putting it too close to the Ted doll - like Lego Nate can't be standing on side as an independent coach. But Nathan, on his own, has made a Ted, Beard, and Roy doll. There is no Nathan doll. My god, just, fucking… my heart.

Yeah yeah Ted has the photo still - where the man he keeps calling Nate signed himself as Nathan.

Oh har har West African cuisine is gaseous. Arab Spring was cool and breezy. Just… fuck you Ted.

Nathan driving his fancy car (competently! It is not too much car for you, my sweet!) past Ted's house as Sassy leaves.

Cut to Shandy, who expresses gratitude first thing, for something that she did, in fact, earn. And at no point does Keeley seem disapproving of the idea to promote celeb Bantr. I love the yellow coat. Shandy is my glorious Diwali fireworks in it.

"More fingers than Ganesha giving directions". FUCK. YOU.

OK that fucking stupid sign.

Taste of Athens. I'm just so mad at Nick Mohammed, you know. For doing all the physical comedy bits, because he's so good at them, and he can do them so well, and I hate it, I hate it to see him being the only one being ridiculous, slamming into doors opened the wrong way. I can't laugh at it. That back and forth indecision walk is something I have done way too many times. I routinely pull when the sign said push. I'm too insignificant for anyone to notice it, so I don't get laughed at, and I hate the camera for noticing Nate in this private moment.

But he gets his little taste of fame, and he handles it mostly with grace. Watching Nathan slowly fit into his skin is like reading the Ugly Duckling knowing that the whole mess could have been avoided if he could have just been around people who didn't bully and belittle him.

Shandy being competent, friendly and professional at the shoot is just - why was everyone being so snide about her? She is clearly so good at it. And imagine what it must feel for someone who was a topless model to be the one directing the action? When Taylor Swift makes a video about it it gets called feminist, but I expect people will just call Shandy cocky. Did you notice how she effortlessly remembered to call him Van Damme? This is a girl who would never deadname you by mistake ever. Also I don't understand Keeley running down Jamie in that weird way, but Shandy literally just asked for permission to bang him, so retrospective jealously, should that happen, would be rather uncool.

Back with the fucking painful physical comedy jesus Nick Mohammed. I didn't realise how prescient I was being when I posted that Mr Swallow does Le Mis video. And this is where my fury at Ted starts rising beyond all bounds. He knew that the sign was torn, he knew who did it, and then he was clearly the one who quietly went and taped it back up to hide the destruction (instead of just making a new sign and putting that up, wtf). He could have told Beard and Ted about that, and discussed it openly, and said that he felt Nathan had some cause to be angry or whatever it is he is feeling, if he truly wanted to diffuse the situation. But no, Ted Lasso will remain Christlike and keep saying everything is fine without once actually being honest about any situation, and as a result he allows more and more people to be angry about Nate. The only person Nate harmed is Ted, with that leak (and why not provide flashback footage of how that went down, Mr Crimm? Was it really said in malice, or the same kind of accidental too muchness followed by retreat that we see Nate do again and again?) If Ted wanted to let it go, why the fuck isn't he actually talking to his co-workers about it?

Also, I do not give a fuck about that stupid sign, and the fact that people care more about violence done to it than all the actual physical violence that was done to an actual real person in that dressing room is the BELIEF in white supremacy.

(Hailey Pither wrote the article that Nathan is looking at in the next scene. It's not Marcus from the Independent, so maybe that's one of the Black women journo's from Nate's first press conference?)

"Sorry for the smell" - that is a witty riposte! Wasted on Palpatine of course, but oh Nate. You were smart and clever and quippy enough to be a Diamond Dog.

OK this scene. THIS SCENE. So the guy we've actually seen be most proactive about asking for advice and make himself vulnerable in the process is Nathan Fucking Shelley. He asks Ted, he asks Keeley, he asks Rebecca, and now, even knowing that Rupert demands confidence at all times, he fucking ASKS. What do I do when I see him? My god this question guts me. Because so many of the bridges I have burned have been because I do not know how to go back and smile at people who have been in positions of structural power over me and who have hurt me. I see other people doing it - laughing and shallow talking with other people. I can't do it. Don't know how. And for Nathan, even though he can laugh at jokes he doesn't understand as a defence mechanism - at the slightest opportunity he gives honesty and the depths of himself. He tells anyone who will listen about his fearful, nervous, quaking parts. Oh, Nathan.

And fucking Rupert is right, because Nathan did nothing wrong by leaving, but that the only one to say that to him is fucking Rupert. It's like having to cite World Bank reports about the failure's of your Global South government - they are right, even though they are out to exploit you. "Mr Mannion". Ah, the conditional equality granted by capricious white people which they take away the instant you act like you have a right to it. God, that stung like a whip.

And then Nathan putting himself in the corner, even before Ted walked into the lift and broke the cardinal metropolis rule of no eye contact and no talking in a small enclosed space. (DO YOU SEE HOW MUCH TALKING NICK MOHAMMED CAN DO WITH JUST HIS SPINE?!)

I live for these tiny glimpses of Nathan doing his job - talking to his players in the dressing room. Walking out with Disco, his faithful terrier hound at his heel. And then Nathan changing up his strategy and doing whateverthefucksportball maneuver that was to get the second goal. HE IS ACTUALLY GOOD AT THIS. He clearly has communicated enough with his players that they trust him, he buys lunch for his staff - this is not a man who's social incompetence and petty malice to underlings renders him incompetent to be a coach.

And once again, a piece of paper over all the actual violence, threatened and enacted, between all these men. And they call us idolaters.

Nathan's genuine bafflement at the Richmond team making arses of themselves - because he plays to win but he does appreciate the game. He wanted a worthy opponent. Oh, baby. And again, at the press interview. He's more confidant speaking, more comfortable, and he tells the truth - he didn't mean to snub Ted - he was focussed, AS HE SHOULD BE, on his team and their win. And he was actually going to go up while Ted was with Trent - the only witness of his one real, awful betrayal, to speak with him. ' As far as I'm concerned, I'm done with Nathan's growth with Ted and Richmond. I don't need any further interactions or placations. I do want to see him interact with subordinates at West Ham, kindly and empathetically. That's the only path of change and progress I want to see. The rest is just stupid rich white people divorce drama.

Meanwhile in the lalaland tv world where one person can change a tagline on an app in an afternoon (hey, if Elon Musk can put doge on twitter…) Shandy did her job, and Keeley… changed her mind? And instead of presenting a united front to her investor (who Keeley couldn't even bother to google? This is just sloppy writing for the same of cheap humour) Keeley very obviously reprimanded her employee. And employee whom, let us remember, was not permitted to sit in Rebecca's posh stadium seats, with everyone else.

Conditional acceptance, forever gone with the wind, because as every woman of colour in a white workplace knows, they will be kind, but they will not be equitable.

Cue Mr Mannion fucking Rupert. Now handing over women as part of his benefits package. My prediction about Ms Kake teaming up with Nathan may well have been wrong, but I remain convinced that it is his feminist solidarity that will get Nathan out of Rupert's orbit - perhaps a team up with Bex rather than Ms Kake. And I want Nathan to keep spitting out drinks that he doesn't like. It's classist nonsense to equate a sophisticated alcohol palette with virtue.

For Nathan, in a corner, alone, is a virtuous man.

Well, this was the first episode of Ted Lasso where I was actually in tears. I feel scraped raw, watching Nathan Shelley, and its almost a form of escapism to admire how committed Nick Mohammed is to pushing the character to the extremes, because, I just can't. I cannot with watching this play out.

It's not that Nathan and Shandy were breaking my heart - its that I was walking down a busy road with them, fists pre-emptively clenched, waiting for the slur or the catcall to indicate danger, constantly blaming myself for choosing the wrong outfit.

I don't think the show was written for the likes of me, or that my reactions were what they wanted to elicit.

[naeverse]

Extra Credit PT: 2

🏫staring. Professor O’Hara x Sassy fem!reader

🎒 preview: “Do you agree, Y/N? Will you help me help you?"

🖋️Summary: Miguel O'Hara, a renowned, attractive genetics professor,  known for his strict stance against extra credit. As a senior, you struggle to keep up with coursework and Mr. O'Hara's opposition to extra credit makes it difficult for you to pass. However, a chance encounter with you changes everything, as Mr. O'Hara becomes more open to helping you - but you must help him in return.

📕tw/cw. unprotected sex, harsh language, hate sex, rough, hand job, blow job, dirty talk, oral sex, spanking, accidental simulation, multiple reader orgasms, big dick Miguel, mutual orgasm, etc… 

📘pet names: (hers) little puta or puta (Little bitch, bitch), Chica (Girl), Muñeca (Doll), 

✏️ rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I

📖Word count: 4k words

🍎 Credit to Artist in header: Narutoss.ramen

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

After the last student left his classroom, it appeared as though Mr. O'Hara had been triggered…

His gaze swiftly landed on you, seated with your legs crossed in a chair, engrossed in your phone. He tried his utmost to maintain his focus on the current task at hand.

"Y/N?" Mr. O'Hara called out once more. You met his gaze as he signaled you over with a subtle beckon of two fingers. Scanning the empty classroom, you gracefully slipped out of your desk. Your black boots echoed with every step as you approached the strong, tanned instructor.

Mr. O'Hara gulped, almost releasing in his pants at the very sight of you approaching him. He shifted his attention to his monitor, moving his mouse aimlessly and clicking on random links, trying to mask his inner turmoil. His cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as he battled with a mixture of emotions—frustration, desire, and longing.

It pained him to be consumed by such feelings, especially when directed at someone like you. Someone he found so irritating, difficult, and an absolute nuisance.

He despised how aroused he was by you. He literally felt like he could cum on the spot without you even touching him.

Mr. O'Hara's black leather oxford that adorned his foot tapped nervously against the floor. He kept his attention fixed on his monitor, avoiding eye contact with you.

Like before, you hopped up onto Mr. O'Hara's desk, your skirt riding up your thighs. You swung your legs whilst looking at Mr. O'Hara from over your shoulder.

"So, what did you want to discuss about my grades, Mr. O?" you inquired, looking at the well-built man whose white polo shirt clung to his form.

Mr. O'Hara let out a trembling breath as he observed you perched on his desk, your legs on full display. He adjusted his black glasses on his nose, his demeanor nervous as he tried to concentrate on your eager expression.

He moistened his lips with a hint of uncertainty. This was his last chance to back out. To be professional and ignore his throbbing arousal that was slowly growing in his pants. But Mr. O'Hara couldn't help but notice your eager eyes, the way they looked at him in curiosity and interest of what your discussion will uphold. The look on you was doing something to him, and he loved and hated the feeling.

Once again, the question presented itself to him.

To continue…

Or back out.

He clenched his jaw, his amber eyes flickering red with arousal as they trailed over your every being.

Your captivating eyes, flawless lips, graceful neck, alluring breasts, immaculate stomach, luscious thighs, and those seductive boots that were pushing him to the brink of insanity.

And in that very moment, he made a firm decision –

He wasn’t backing out…

"I was reflecting on our previous discussion…” Mr. O'Hara began, clicking the trigger of his ballpoint pen once, twice, thrice before finally meeting your gaze. "I've been contemplating offering you some…"

"Extra credit."

Your legs, which had been swinging in the air, came to an abrupt halt, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Had you misheard him?

Mr. O'Hara had always been staunchly against extra credit, refusing it for anyone. He believed that if students hadn't put in the effort the first time, they didn't deserve a second chance. It was what he was known for on campus and what earned him the reputation of being a strict and demanding professor, so you were taken aback by his words.

"I…I thought you didn't allow extra credit," you stammered, your gaze locked intently on Mr. O'Hara. You half-expected someone to leap out and reveal this was a prank, as you struggled to believe what you had just heard.

Mr. O'Hara knew that he was venturing into morally questionable territory, but his desperation and need for a release compelled him to proceed. He looked up at you, attempting to maintain a serious expression, even though he was close to the most critical part of his plan and becoming increasingly nervous.

Clearing his throat, he began, "Well, I don't usually… but this is your last year on campus, correct?"

You nodded in response, and he couldn’t help the small smirk that formed on his lips. "Your senior year is crucial, Y/N. It's the year where you're giving your all to earn as many credits as possible to graduate and move on to the next stage of your adult life," he said, busying himself with organizing a few test packets he had been grading, his gaze seemingly more focused on the stack of papers than on you.

You hummed in agreement, hanging onto his every word. Mr. O'Hara then set the stack aside to meet your eyes directly. "We both know you've been facing some…challenges in my class," he added, his voice taking on a husky tone. "I understand and sympathize with your situation, which is why I'd like to offer you some extra credit to boost your grade."

With each word, Mr. O'Hara's heart pounded loudly in his chest. He couldn't believe what he was doing, what he was saying…

But he felt compelled to continue.

You averted your gaze from Mr. O'Hara to in front of you, taking a moment to let his words sink in. Afterward, you slowly nodded and turned back to look at him over your shoulder.

"Okay, so what's the extra credit?" you asked with a hint of amusement. "If it's a packet of genetics questions, I'm sorry, but it won't be much of a help." You chuckled and waited patiently for Mr. O'Hara's response.

He licked his lips, a wave of heat creeping up his tanned neck. Shaking his head at your guess, his eyes briefly wandered down to your smooth and silky thighs before locking onto your gaze once more.

"It's not a packet…

But something else…"

Mr. O'Hara paused after his words. He hesitated, feeling a sense of unease, especially as you crossed your arms over your chest, accentuating your bust. This sight caused his arousal to intensify significantly, and he had to bite his lip harshly to regain control.

"It's something that involves just you and me."

Your reaction was a mix of shock and confusion.

If the extra credit didn't entail an assignment, project, or a packet and required both you and Mr. O'Hara's presence, you were left entirely bewildered as to what it could involve.

You stared at Mr. O'Hara in confusion, your eyebrows furrowing.

"So, it's something that involves just you and me?" you inquired. "You want me to bring you coffee and lunch every day? If it comes to that, I'm more than willing to do it if it helps my grade." You chuckled lightly.

Mr. O'Hara couldn't help but laugh at your comment before clearing his throat. He was trying to find a way to explain without sounding peculiar or scaring you off.

"No, not quite like that," he clarified. "It's something a bit more… personal."

Your puzzled expression deepened, and you remained oblivious to his true intentions. Mr. O'Hara found your naivety somewhat endearing.

"It involves me giving you some extra attention," he said in a playful tone, hoping you'd catch on, but it seemed you were still in the dark.

You turned to Mr. O'Hara fully, your eyebrows knitted together, and your eyes scanning his facial features with a sense of urgency.

'He can't be thinking that… right?'

Your gaze roamed over his tanned face, his amber, almost crimson narrowed eyes behind his black spectacles. You couldn't help but notice the sharp curve of his jawline and his lips, which curled into a taunting smile.

His muscular, well-built body with broad shoulders and a frame so large it strained against his white polo shirt wasn't overlooked in your intense gaze.

While you couldn't deny Mr. O'Hara's physical appeal, you also couldn't overlook his status as an obnoxious individual. There was no way you'd willingly give in to him…

Unless…

No, it couldn't be what he was suggesting. You and Mr. O'Hara shared a mutual hate for each other. You were convinced he couldn't possibly be alluding to anything sexual…

Right…?

"Extra attention?" you repeated, your voice tinged with perplexity. "Professor, I'm not following. What are you talking about?"

Your gaze was locked on Mr. O’Hara, eager for him to provide further clarification, as at that moment, extra credit seemed to suggest either something of a sexual nature involving Mr. O'Hara or an entirely different proposal. Regardless…

You found yourself in a state of confusion.

Your arms were folded over your chest, your legs crossed, and your flannel skirt had unintentionally ridden up your thighs once more.

Mr. O'Hara couldn't help but chuckle once more, amused by your apparent confusion. He found it rather entertaining to witness someone who was typically so sharp-tongued and rude struggle to grasp the situation.

He had a feeling that you understood his meaning quite well but needed a little nudge in the right direction. Mr. O'Hara cleared his throat once again and looked up at you with narrowed eyes.

"You know exactly what I mean, Y/N…"

His gaze, however, began to drift down your body once more before returning to your eyes. A newfound boldness washed over him, and he decided not to hold back any longer.

He leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs to reveal the prominent bulge in his black dress pants. With a toothy grin, he beckoned you over with a nod of his head.

"Why don't you come over here, and I'll show you exactly what I mean?"

He grinned at you, never breaking eye contact. Slowly, a smirk began to spread across your lips, and you realized that you were indeed correct about Mr. O'Hara's intentions.

"You horny bastard," you playfully remarked, accompanied by a chuckle. "You want me to provide you with some sexual attention, is that it?"

Mr. O'Hara's heart raced as he grappled with mixed emotions, unsure of how you were interpreting the situation. He couldn't predict your thoughts—

Did you find his proposition disgusting or perhaps believe it was all a joke?

Regret was beginning to seep in as he ventured into unfamiliar territory. The uncertainty gnawed at him, making his stomach churn with suspense and anticipation.

His anxiety transformed him into a stoic figure. His face grew rigid, his voice cold and stern. "Yes," he replied, meeting your playful gaze with serious, unwavering eyes.

"And would you assist me with my problem, Y/N? In exchange for help with your grades?"

His tone was firm and unyielding, but his nervousness remained palpable. You sat on his desk, grinning back at him, still somewhat in disbelief at his audacious request. However, the fact that you had this older, muscular man practically begging for your attention was, oddly, an ego boost.

Your eyes roamed his body, and a smirk graced your lips. You let your gaze linger on his thick, muscular thighs and the prominent bulge in his black slacks before locking onto his stern amber-red eyes behind his black spectacles.

While you didn't mind helping Mr. O'Hara if it meant improving your grades, what genuinely intrigued you was how long he had been harboring this desire. Your curiosity got the best of you.

"So, how long have you been dealing with this issue, Mr. O'Hara?" you asked, sitting back on your hands, your smirk taunting. His jaw clenched at your teasing. He disliked your games and just wanted a straightforward answer regarding your willingness to assist.

He growled, his scowl deepening. "That's none of your business," he retorted. "Do you agree to my terms or not?" You chuckled, savoring the satisfaction of getting under Mr. O'Hara's skin.

It was a peculiar delight to see how easy it was to provoke his reactions.

With your eyes trailing along his body once more, you asked, "How much is this extra credit worth? I need specifics before I get my hands dirty." Your expression was completely serious despite the playful banter.

A smirk gradually spread across Mr. O'Hara's lips; it appeared you were on board with his plan, and he intended to sweeten the deal even further.

"If you complete this “task” for me, I'll raise your 58, which you scored on my test last week, to an 80…

How does that sound, Y/N?"

Your smile broadened, and you were becoming more intrigued by this deal.

"And how much would that raise my grade to? I want to pass your course with a C, Mr. O."

Mr. O'Hara hummed in thought, considering your request. The semester was already halfway through, and with your previous performance, you were likely to receive more low grades.

He glanced up at you, his gaze fixating on your enticing thighs. His pants grew even tighter as he bit his lip.

"How about we extend our little agreement?" he proposed, causing you to smirk.

You couldn't help but wonder just how much Mr. O'Hara had been lusting after you. He seemed rather eager to proceed with his sexual intentions, even extending the time. But regardless of your curiosity, you were more interested in the new terms he proposed, so you nodded, allowing him to continue.

"I know how much you despise my work and my class, Y/N. So how about I guarantee you a passing grade for my class if you meet me here after classes for 15 minutes every other day until the semester is over?"

"So, for the next eight weeks?" you clarified, tapping your nail against his desk.

Mr. O'Hara's breath hitched, and he nodded, responding, "That'll cover the rest of this semester, Y/N."

You swung your legs, mulling over the agreement.

'This offer is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Genetics class is kicking my ass, and this could be the only way to improve my grade… for the rest of the semester too!'

You thought, your eyes meeting Mr. O'Hara's, his stern gaze solely fixed on you. He inquired, "Do you agree, Y/N?

Will you help me help you?"

A smirk gradually spread across your lips, and you nodded. How could you possibly deny him?

The deal was just too good.

"Of course, Mr. O. Who could say no to a great deal like that," you chuckled, hopping off his desk.

Mr. O'Hara was rather surprised by how readily you embraced his bold proposal. His excitement knew no bounds, and he felt no need to conceal his desires any longer. He chuckled, pushing his black spectacles up his nose, and said, “I appreciate your enthusiasm, Y/N. Shall we begin?'"

You giggled, biting your lip. "Let's…" Mr. O'Hara's smirk broadened as he gestured for you to come closer. "I want you on your knees." He slid back in his computer chair, making room for you before him.

You smirked at his eagerness, confidently walking over to stand in front of him. Mr. O'Hara's eyes roamed over your entire being, taking you in.

He bit his lip, his pants tightening even more, causing a muffled groan to escape his mouth as he became increasingly turned on. You kneeled before him, looking up to meet his gaze with a teasing smile.

"You are rather naughty, Mr. O'Hara," you teased once more. "Be honest with me, it's just you and me here in this room." You giggled, biting your lip while continuing to gaze up at the large instructor. "How long have you been wanting me, hmm?" You snickered, bringing a scowl to Mr. O'Hara's lips.

He despised your teasing. He had never felt this way about anyone, especially not a student like you, and the way you kept bringing it up was pissing him off.

He roughly started to unbuckle his leather belt, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants. The flaps of his black slacks opened, revealing his dark gray boxers underneath. “Stop talking,” he spat, pulling his pants down until they formed a black puddle around his feet. You snickered, tilting your head. “Why? Sensitive topic?"

Mr. O’Hara growled, leaning in closer to your face, his anger radiating from his body due to his close proximity. His amber, almost crimson eyes, covered by his black spectacles, scanned your facial features as his lips turned up into a scowl.

“I didn't give you this extra credit to hear you and your fucking mouth.”

He said with a harsh tone, his voice filled with anger and spite, despite his hidden desires for you.

You looked back at him, completely unfazed, a small laugh escaping your lips. "I know…You want me to please you. To help you…

Release…"

Your tone was seductive, and your eyes roamed over Mr. O'Hara's body. “Isn’t that right, Mr. O?” you purred.

Your seductive tone and suggestive words had a profound effect on Mr. O'Hara. His length under his boxers twitched, and he let out a groan of frustration at how restrictive his briefs were. His gaze remained cold, and his jaw clenched so tightly it seemed locked in place.

He snarled, his eyes reddening behind his frames as he studied your features. "Stop pissing me off and get to work."

He growled, leaning back in his computer chair. "Use that mouth of yours and make it useful for once."

His words caused your nose to scrunch up, and you let out a growl. You shot a piercing glare at Mr. O'Hara, whose gaze remained locked onto you. His fingernail tapped impatiently on the armrest of his chair, his usual scowl etched on his lips.

It infuriated you the way he carried himself with such arrogance, as if he were high and mighty. Yet, here he was, practically begging you for assistance with his sexual desires.

You were determined to shatter that arrogant facade.

To show him who truly held the control in this situation, because it certainly wasn't him.

You smirked up at him, a wicked glint in your eye. "Fine…" You rose up on your knees, moving closer to the center of Mr. O'Hara's thick, muscular thighs.

Even though Mr. O'Hara was staring down at you with his usual unreadable and grim expression, it was evident that your presence had a profound effect on him.

His clothed desire was painfully palpable under his dark gray boxers, straining horribly against the fabric of his pants and showcasing his unmistakable longing for you.

Mr. O'Hara bit his lip, struggling to hold back the low groan that was brewing in his chest as he watched you loop your fingers into the band of his boxers. Assisting you in undressing him, he lifted his hips slightly off the chair, allowing you to pull his briefs down.

You lowered his bottoms just enough to set his hardened and aching member free. His tanned length hastily springing out from its confines.

Mr. O'Hara licked his lips, the mere sight of you on your knees before him only made him want to shove his cock down your throat even more.

You despised Mr. O'Hara, that was a fact, but you couldn't help but regard his cock with a hint of surprise and amazement.

His member was positioned so close to your face that you didn't need to make any effort to get a taste of it. It was fully erect, substantial, and impressively large. You estimated it to be well above average, possibly reaching around 10 inches in length. A prominent vein ran along the underside of his tanned member, leading to a tinted reddish-brown tip that glistened with pre-cum.

You had to give Mr. O'Hara props…

He surprised you…

You had heard numerous times from the secret Mr. O'Hara fandoms at your college that the professor was rumored to be well-endowed. However, you dismissed these claims as mere rumors, assuming they were just fantasies for the infatuated admirers of the strict genetics professor to indulge in at night.

But it turned out that the squealing fans might have been onto something after all, because Mr. O'Hara, was indeed,

Packing…

…

..

.

"Are you going to suck it or just gawk at it the whole time?"

You jumped, your eyes snapping up to meet Mr. O'Hara, who held a smug grin on his face.

Mr. O'Hara had been observing you for a while, noticing your eyes as they traveled up and down his length repeatedly. Your mouth was slightly agape, and your eyes were wide with surprise. He couldn't help but feel his ego grow at the sight.

To witness a girl like you, known for your bitchiness, unimpressed demeanor and incessant chatter, not only rendered speechless but genuinely captivated by the sight of his cock, filled him with an overwhelming sense of pride that was beyond comprehension.

You scowled, rolling your eyes at Mr. O'Hara's comment. You gazed up at him from between his legs, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Gawk? I bet you'll like that, huh?" You chuckled, causing Mr. O'Hara to grin.

"Y/N, no need to lie. You like what you see, don't you, chica?" he remarked, his cocky demeanor shining through his words.

Mr. O'Hara was just pissing you the fuck off. He truly believed that he had you salivating over his dick.

"You wish," you snarled, glaring daggers at him from your position on the floor. Mr. O'Hara shook his head, laughing. "Tell yourself whatever helps you sleep at night, Y/N," Mr. O'Hara mocked, leaning in close, his prideful face meeting your infuriated one. He smiled, his annoyingly perfect white, sharp canines peeking out from under his lips.

"You can drop the little bitchy, stubborn act."

He smirked, looking at your kneeled form up and down before meeting your narrowed eyes.

"We both know you are just eager to get a taste…

Just dying for my cock to fill your little mouth up, hmm, chica?"

Your gaze traveled down to his impressively large member and then back up to his taunting eyes. Your fists clenched at your sides, and your teeth ground together harshly.

You'd had enough!

You couldn't believe he'd say something so crude and arrogant.

Your face flushed in anger, your jaw clenching.

"I'm not the one who's so damn aroused they had to bait their student into pleasing them,"

You spat, full of rage, your chest heaving up and down.

"What? Your hand isn't doing the job anymore? Getting tired of using the same hand you use to grade papers to jerk off?"

You laughed, looking him up and down as you shook your head.

"And you sit here, all high and mighty, but how long have you been eyeing me, Professor? Wanting to have your way with me? Wanting to fuck me until your heart's content, hmm?"

You asked with a snicker, your eyes finally taking in Mr. O'Hara's reaction to your outburst, and what you saw made your smirk only broaden. The way Mr. O'Hara's smug grin slowly began to change and distort, turning into red fury, made you feel so satisfied.

His gaze was icy, staring intently down at you; his sharp canines completely revealed, grinding down onto his bottom teeth. He was practically seething.

"What the fuck did you just say to me!?"

Mr. O'Hara stared down at you, his blood boiling.

The nerve of you…

The audacity to say something like that to him.

He was already on the verge of snapping…

His self-control wavering when he came up with the idea to get you to stay after class for you to please him.

His self-control cracking when he actually went through with his plan.

Every cocky, snarky, and sassy remark that you uttered afterward was chipping away at the last bit of self-control he had…

And now…

After those fucking comments you just made…

Self-control was out the damn window…

His breathing was heavy, his nostrils flared, and his grip on the armrests of his chair lethal.

He glared down at the young woman in her early 20s who knelt before him. He didn't see her as a student anymore.

Someone he taught,

Someone he had to be cautious with,

gentle with,

fragile with…

Hell no…

He was blinded by rage and lust. Two horrific combinations…

And he only had one thought in his head…

That he was going to dominate and destroy this mouthy bitch and put her in her place…

A/N: Looks like you might be in for it in Part 3... 😬

Thanks for all the love that you guys have showed for my first post. It really surprised me, so thanks so much everyone!! 💙😊❤️

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

[harrysddtittys]

Could you maybe write something where Harry is a single father to maybe a girl. And just write how he’d deal with her terrible twos. Like from morning to night or something like that? 🥺

wow i finally got a requestttt!!! here you go! I know nothing about young children, so i don’t even know if this is an accurate description of a 2 y/o lol. but i hope you like it <33

Warnings: fluffff, dadrry, most likely some typos :)

Masterlist ❣︎ Requests

Piece of work

“Oh my God, Lani.” Harry groaned, groggily, as he was pulled out of his sleep by his daughter sitting on his back and yelling “Daddy, wake up!” in an playful voice. As much as he tries to pretend to not to like being woken up so obnoxiously every morning, they both know he loves for the first thing he hears every day to be his little girl yelling in his ear.

He lays there for a couple more minutes, wanting to sleep for a little bit longer, but gives up when he realizes she’s not going to be quiet until he gets up. “Okay, okay. I’m awake. Calm down.”

When he says that, she immediately gets off his back so that he can sit up, sitting next to him. He looks over at her. She’s wearing a random shirt of her’s that she doesn’t really wear other than to sleep, and her pull-up that she wears to prevent wetting the bed at night, and she has a head full of curly, unruly hair. He just smiles, so in awe of the fact he helped create something so beautiful.

Fatherhood was by far the best thing that ever happened to Harry. The second he looked his little girl, Alani in the eyes, he instantly felt the connection. He loves her with his entire being. But she can definitely be a lot to handle

She turned two not even three months ago. Harry Honestly thought the “terrible two’s” stage was a myth. Boy, was he wrong. The tantrums hit like lightning. Not only is she in her terrible two’s, but she’s naturally very stubborn, and sassy. She definitely got that from him. He swears she’s a 13 year old in a 2 year olds body.

“G’morning, bug.” He says, sitting up slowly because of the stiff joints from not moving much all night. “Good morning, daddy!” She squeals excitedly. Once he’s fully sat up, Alani jumps on him, throwing her tiny arms around him, causing Harry to chuckle. She gets so excited when he wakes up for the day.

He wraps his arms around her and squeeze her lightly, but grunting as if he’s squeezing her as tight as he can, making her giggle. “Did you sleep good?” He questions, quietly. “Yeah.” She mumbles, feeling so content where she is, like in her dad’s arms is the best place in the world. “V’got some things to do today. Y’wanna go run some errands with daddy?” This causes her to pull away from him with with wide eyes, nodding eagerly. The biggest smile spreads across Harry’s features. “Yeah?” Which she responds to by nodding again.

“Then we gotta get ready, bub. Y’hungry?” He asks to which she responds with a simple “Yes.” “Alright let’s go eat.” When he says that, Alani gets down off the bed, before sprinting out of his room, and toward the kitchen full speed. “Stop running!” He slightly scolds, hearing her tiny feet padding down the hallway at a much slower speed than before.

He always gets so nervous when she’s running around, but especially when she’s running in the house. She’s so wild and crazy, yet so clumsy. Constantly falling, and running into things. She rarely actually gets hurt. Most of the time she moves on from it like nothing happened. But it scares the absolute shit out of Harry every time.

When he enters the kitchen, he sees Alani standing next to the counter. As soon as he’s in her line of vision she starts pointing to the box of cinnamon toast crunch. “Daddy, this?” with pleading eyes. Harry just laughs. He doesn’t let her eat those than often for breakfast, because of how sweet they are, choosing to fix something on the healthier side for them to eat instead. But today he figured it wouldn’t hurt to let her have a little bowl of it before the day starts.

He goes over to the little girl who is still aggressively pointing at the box of cereal, ending down to pick her up. “Alright, alright. Hold you’re horses, will you?” He coos softly. He gently sits her down on at the kitchen table before returning back over to the counter. He opens the cabinet, pulling out a small bowl. When he’s finished making her cereal, he grabs her one of her baby spoons before serving it to her. “Thank you!” she says loudly. “You’re welcome, princess.” he chuckles.

Harry doesn’t like cinnamon toast crunch, it’s way to sweet for him. He decides he’ll just pop a bagel in the toaster and call it a day.

* * *

Once they’ve finished breakfast, they got completely ready for the day, and we’re soon ready to head out. Harry turns around to look at his daughter. She’s dressed in a denim dress, with a white t-shirt underneath, and white tennis shoes. Her hair’s brushed up into two sleek pigtails, which he’d become a pro at over the past couple years. Harry decided on a white t-shirt with a gray pair of pants. “Y’ready t’go, love?” he asked, feeling around his pockets to make sure he had everything. “Mhm!”

once they’re out to the car, Harry straps Alani into her car seat in the back, peppering kisses all over her tiny face once she’s all buckled in. “Daddy!” She squeals. Giggling, he closes the door, and goes around to the drivers side, getting in and powering the car on. “Alright, let’s roll.” he sighs, turning around to back out of the driveway.

They needed to stop at the grocery store, just to stock up on some things they needed around the house. So that’s where they were headed to now.

“Daddy, look! Red!” Alani exclaimed, pointing at the red car that was next to them. “Yes, that is red, baby, good job!” Harry beams. “Y’so smart.”

They continue driving toward their local grocery. Harry looks into his rear view mirror to check in Alani, and catches her staring at him. She’s always staring at him. It seems to be her favorite thing to do. He pulls the silliest face he could think of, causing her to burst into laughter. Harry laughs right along with her. Her laugh is so contagious. “Do it again!” She giggles. Harry happily obliges, pulling the goofy face once more, causing her angelic little laugh to engulf his ears.

After a little while of driving, they finally reached their destination, pulling into the grocery store parking lot. Alani watches her dad get out of the car, patiently waiting for him to make his way around to her side to get her out of the car. Soon enough, he does, taking her out of her cars seat and carrying her on his hip as the go into the store.

* * *

“Daddy, Daddy! Can I have that?” Alani asks loudly, pointing to something. “Shhh, you have to use your inside voice, darling.” Harry reminds her gently. He looks over to where she was pointing and not to his surprise, he sees a doll on the shelf. He’s grown to hate telling her no, but they didn’t come for toys, and she has more than enough at home already. “No, my love. Not today.” Her face immediately dropped. “But… but please?” She whines, her lip quivering. Harry hates that she’s disappointed but he knows he can’t give in. “No, baby. You don’t have to cry. Just not today, okay?” he says gently.

That doesn’t help, considering her whimpers are quickly turning into loud wails, and he knows the meltdown is coming. “Lani, it’s okay. You have plenty of toys at home to play with.” he try’s to reason but it doesn’t stop the tears that are slowly rolling down her face, and the loud, attention drawing cries. People were starting to look, and Harry was starting to get frustrated, but she was only 2. He knew she was still learning how to deal with her emotions. But when your kid is having a complete meltdown, and screaming in the middle of a store over a doll, that’s definitely a bit annoying.

Harry leans down to be face to face with her in her, who’s seated in the cart. “Alani, I know you’re upset, but you’re not going to scream.” He says softly, but slightly sternly. She looks at her dad, still crying but visibly calming down. Harry waits for her whines to die down completely before asking her “Are we okay now? Can we keep shopping?” to which she responds to with a nod.

After picking up just a few more essentials, they’re in line, waiting to check out. Harry looks down at Alani, realizing she’s been pretty silent ever since she stopped crying. He sees her with the all too familiar scowl on her face, with a pout of her lips. “Why are you looking so evil, bub?” Harry asked, with a gentle shake of his head. She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t need to because he already knows she’s mad at him for refusing to buy her a doll.

He just rolls his eyes and try’s not to laugh. She really is something else. But he knows that she’s genuinely mad at him and him not taking her seriously will set her off again.

Eventually, they make their way up to the front of the line to check out, and soon enough their heading back out to the car. Harry looks at her, as he’s loading all the groceries into the trunk of his car to see that she still has the same mean look on her face. “Y’gonna stay mad at daddy all day, huh?” He teases her solely for his own enjoyment, knowing she’s much to busy trying to have an attitude to laugh at anything he says. She nods silently, still refusing to speak to him. Harry can’t help but laugh at that, knowing that wasn’t true in the slightest. “Y’have to learn t’take ‘no’ for an answer, baby love.” He sighs.

When they’re in the car in the way home, Harry looks at her in the mirror, pulling some silly faces like he was doing earlier. She sees him, and while she was still trying to hold her angry face, he can see the smile tugging at her lips. He doesn’t stop until her scowl is completely replaced by a smile, her beautiful laugh ringing through his ears, making his heart flutter with joy.

“Ahhh, I thought you were mad!” Harry laughs, causing her to laugh along with him, knowing she failed her attempt at holding a grudge on him. “Are we gonna be friends again?” Harry asks jokingly. “Yeah, we’re friends again!” Alani states matter of factly, causing Harry to chuckle.

This child really was a little piece of work, but he loves her nonetheless.

“Good.”