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melodic-haze · 3 months

Note

I have kind of Ruan Mei brainrot rn… imagine Ruan Mei running a test on you but reader is a girl w penis I hope you know what you mean and well, the reader gets hard from the little touches Ruan Mei gives… okie I’m leaving the rest of the job for you 🫡

-🐿️

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Ruan Mei x dom!gp!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Fem reader with a dick ☺️, consensual use of aphrodisiacs, semi-public sex

☆ — NOTES: Oh my god a post?!?!? From ME?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? Anyway may this bless my rolls please HALLELUJAH

So really it probably would've started off as 🤷‍♀️ a favour 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ yk, just some harmless (lied) tests she wanted to do and you just happened to be in the right (wrong) place at the right (wrong) time. She wanted to test how one would react to certain stimuli, especially when it comes to more........"medicated" states

For the sake of my peace of mind you've probably both already talked about it before in the past anyway at one point, with her getting curious about chemicals and what it could do to one's libido ever since she started dating you 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ though she doesn't necessarily say when she'd ever do it lol

"Y/N, there you are."

You hear familiar heels click amidst the station floor, the sound now distinct enough to separate from all the ambience in the Station—the pace was languid yet decisive, soft yet forceful.. and so very her.

"Ruan Mei," you tore your gaze from the vast sea of stars to smile at her, "you need something?"

She shakes her head, stepping into place right next to you, "No, I do not. I simply thought to.. find you, is all."

"Taking a break from your research just to see me? Wow, did Herta do something or..?"

"No, she hasn't. Though I do admit that I had an ulterior motive for my actions," she says before holding out a small plate that you hadn't realised were there until now. "I had a new recipe I wanted you to try."

You picked one of the two lotus cakes up to inspect it in all its golden brown glory, "Trying to change up your recipes? They're already good enough, though."

"I had a new ingredient or two that I wanted to try using for such delicacies. It makes for a nice experiment."

"That so?" You raise it to your mouth, "Well, I trust that whatever you make is--"

Wait.

"--did you say 'experiment'?"

"Yes, I did. Why do you ask?"

You lightly furrowed your eyebrows in suspicion as you lowered the pastry from your lips, "Ruan Mei."

"Hm?"

"..I'm not going to ask what, exactly, you used. But could you at least tell me if this is gonna hurt me one way or another? Maybe have another moment of 'unexplained' amnesia?"

The scientist shook her head, though her expression doesn't slip from that ever-so-present mask of indifference, "I made sure that the effects don't harm you in any way."

"So there are side-effects to this."

"I never had the intention of lying to you."

"I love you, I really do, but you're very evasive with very important details like that."

"Because you simply don't ask."

"Yeah, well, I'm not your labrat," you say as you take a bite of the pastry anyway, "I'm your girlfriend. ..Though whatever you put in this, it's really sweet. Could you maybe make a drug-free version of whatever this is?"

The smallest of smiles graced her lips as you chewed and savoured her creation, and you just can't help but melt on the inside at the sight as she swipes off some stray crumbs from the corner of your lips with a thumb. She licks said crumbs off her digit (and your eyes widened the slightest bit) before responding, "I'll be sure to look for such an alternative."

"You better. You know I like whatever you create."

"I do."

"Even if it involves getting spiked for your own curiosity."

She leans in to press a gentle kiss on your cheek, "I appreciate the constant indulgence. Truly."

And as she ghosts her fingers down your arm before they snake over to hold your hand, you can't help but notice that you're just a touch bit more sensitive than you were a few moments ago.

Or maybe it's because it was your lover doing the touching.

Yeah. Maybe that's it.

...

"Hey, babe."

"Hm?"

"Why did you make two of them? Usually it'd only take one for it to hit me."

"In case we need another one."

"..Uh huh."

She doesn't just leave you, which is a wonder but also kinda not? Cuz she's observing you, not because she's affectionate 🤷‍♀️ sorry gangalicious she needs her baby steps towards understanding love in her own way 🫶🫶🫶 personally I'd be patient with her always (she's so me)

So the both of you are just chatting about whatever, like she asks you about how your day's been and then you ask her about how hers was. With you, while still a bit cryptic, she's much more of an open book to you than to anyone else, so you can just freely ask her whatever as you both take a stroll around Herta's Space Station and enjoy each other's company (I'd ask about the cats personally they're my babies :()

But then you start getting a bit......feverish, let's say. Just a tad bit hot under the collar 😊😊 which gets you to wonder like. Did Herta turn up the heat??? Like it was fine before, and why would she ever even need to mess with the temp settings when all that's here are her dolls?????? And why didn't your beloved seem unaffected??????¿????????

It's when she starts to give you touches here and there—her 'casual' handholding, naturally drifting close to you, clinging onto your arm—and noticing details you'd never have ever thought about in usual times that you think that Perhaps There Is Something Going On Here. And THEN you realise What Exactly Is Wrong when you feel that tension (and tent) centred at the bottom half of your body 😜

She's WELL-AWARE of it too, with the way her eyes drift down and her free hand going from resting on your stomach to moving to your lower abdomen.......before stopping 🫶 which gets on your Nerves to the point where all caution's thrown in the wind, your mind nothing more than a lustful haze (lol) and your only priority being to beat this heat......and your meat too, but really that's kinda obvious

It's as if she knew too!!! The moment you find some empty spare room, propriety be damned, she locks you both in IMMEDIATELY before putting the small dish to the table on the side (and you could've sworn you heard her breathe out "finally", though your braincells lost their way amongst the stars or something so you didn't know OR care) and walking back to you. At least until, yk, you grip the fabric of her clothes and slam her to the wall before THEN slamming your lips to hers 🤷‍♀️

She's surprised at your brazen forcefulness at first (who the heck wouldn't be ngl even you'd be surprised somewhere in your basically melted brain) but then she immediately relaxes. Hell, maybe there were remnants of whatever chemicals she put into the cake and she's having a taste for herself, bc she gets more daring by the second as her hands roam around your body and squeeze at your tits and her nails cling onto your biceps as she pulls you in deeper

Coincinentally just like how her nails dig deep into your back as you plow into her senselessly 😄 technique be DAMNED man bouta call yourself a carnivore bc GOD you're hungry for that meat HAHAHAHA (if not you then me I'm hungry for her thanks)

You could just barely register your lover's whines and pleas for you to slow down, but you couldn't care less as you hammered your length into her hot cunt over and over again.

And really, why would you slow down? This is what she wanted, isn't it? Having you fuck her like some simple-minded animal in heat with your only instinct being to fill your lovely little scientist up with your cum until its dripping out of her abused hole... This was her end-goal, so who was she to tell you to slow down?

It was better to lose yourselves in the moment.

..Even when you could hear quiet murmurs on the other side of the door. You could just barely make out what the voices are discussing—they had wondered why there were faint sounds of impact beyond the walls.

You've never seen Ruan Mei in such a state of panic before, with her eyes widening in concern as she pushes through her breathless state and keeps telling you to "stop" and that "it's too much" and "they'll hear of our experiment" (is that what we're calling it now?). Unfortunately for her, however, such words fall on deaf ears; especially when her body language says otherwise, with her limbs refusing to let go of you and her left heel dropping to the floor with a clack that is easily drowned out by the sounds of your explicit duet.

"W-We need to be qui-- mmnf..!"

One of your hands had reached out to the remaining cake before stuffing it in your lover's mouth, "If you wanna be.. ahhh.. quiet so-- ffffucking badly, then have something to c-chew on-- ohmygods, A-Ruan, you feel so good..!"

Her hips buck up in response to you using her true name, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she lets out a particularly loud yet muffled moan. You actually slow down this time, though you make up for the speed by plunging in as deep as you can as she eats her own creation—even you were able to recognise that her choking on something other than your dick would be one hell of a bad idea, and whatever effects that cake had on you was going to hit her rather quickly anyway.

You don't help the rising heat beneath you either, even when you've slowed down; your head bends down to play with her soft tits, tongue licking and mouth sucking as if something was going to ever miraculously come from it. You are a woman-- no, a bitch starved.

And from the feel of your partner's desperate grinding movements on your hard cock, from the looks of your pretty little scientist's pupils being blown, from the fact that her, from the fact that you've managed to reduce your Genius' brain to some sort of needy mush—the same state that you're in—you're pretty sure that she is the same state as you are right now.

Really, who cares about the people outside?

Let them know of your shared depravity with each other.

It stands to reason that neither of you finish for. A long time. Who knew that sharing the effects of two potently-crafted aphrodisiacs would make you two fuck like rabbits? 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ you're there for HOURS, doing whatever you two can manage to do—every position, whatever kinks you two have managed to discover yourselves (plus some new ones you hadn't even realised you were interested in until now, go figure)......hell, even when you sit there to catch your breath, you're still inside her 😭

You Are both at least Slightly aware that you're making a huge mess and you're probably gonna be so fucked AND fucked out by like idk tomorrow. Did you have the capacity to care? No not really, but Herta's possible wrath about dirtying up her Station like this was more than enough to have you both think that MAYBE you should take this to one of yous' quarters (though really it's a 50/50 but either way she'll still ridicule you somehow tbh)

So she cleans you up, crouching down and shamelessly sucks you off like a cheap whore—her enthusiasm and fervency is a CLEAR contrast to her usual lethargy and stoicism. Your shared cum drips to the floor as she did so, though not for long when she stands up and puts her panties back in place. Are they ruined to all hell???? Well yes but she won't really need it at your place so it's not like it matters

Once you've got yourself and the room cleaned up (that's a stretch I'm ngl but you get ⭐️ a gold star for trying), you quickly leave as soon as possible. It's both bc neither of you are far from done with your 'experiment' AND bc you two are such messes. Like you could be a mess on the daily, who knows, but Ruan Mei NEVER has a hair out of place and now she looks So Very Dishevelled My God

But again, none of that matters once you both get into your room and continue for round........who knows

But after you both inevitably end up passing out and the effects wear off? Lol she wasn't joking about how it won't do anything negative to you—the both of you remember precisely Everything you've done

"So."

"Mm?"

"At the end of the day," you spoke, voice raspy from the sleep and the overexhertion from the day before, "what was that research even for?"

She snuggles into your embrace—a rare moment of tenderness between the two of you—as she thinks on her words, "..Sexual potential?"

"..Could you elaborate?"

"..Not right now, my apologies," her voice is in the same state as yours, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"I figured."

Whatever research it was, it turned out to be Very Good Research 🫶

It also helps that she kept the recipe AND found a non-drugged alternative. Win win!!!!!

#hazy demos!#hazy explicits!#hazy features!#anon fandom: 🐿!#ruan mei x reader #ruan mei smut #sub ruan mei #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail smut #sub honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #hsr smut #sub hsr #hsr women x reader #hsr women imagines #hsr women smut #sub hsr women

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 month

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could you do a yandere demon mitsuri or shinobu with a demon slayer darling

Demon Slayer Reader in Reverse AU | Yandere KNY

In this alternate universe the hashira are the equivalents of the Upper Moons. Unbelievably strong, incredibly devious, and just as responsible for innumerable deaths as their creator. You on the other hand are like Tanjiro Kamado, a demon slayer dutifully following the orders of Muzan as he’s determined to finally stop the rampant killing that those demons do. But there’s something special about you. Something that the demons just can’t deny. That has them persistently chasing you their greater their connection to their beloved creator. Maybe it’s the blood of their kin, or your kissable lips, or the curses you mutter as your sword doesn’t slice through their necks. Either way they are down-bad:

Mitsuri Kanroji

Turned after being rejected for her strength and differences

Now she uses them to eat scores of humans particularly the most bland people she can find

Can you believe just how few people she actually loves?

Too few people are special because of their differences or physical traits

Which means she’s happily devour all those who don’t which is a lot

She of course claims it’s love at first sight when she sees you

It really can be something as simple as a colorful hanafuda or being deaf

Anything unique to you makes her weak in her knees

“You’re making me so happy just to have met you! I love you!”

So busy fawning over you, she barely misses your swing

Stronger than others she only falls for you deeper

In her twisted mind the blood of Ubuyashiki makes beautiful people of his divine choice even more beautiful

Thus her mission when fighting you is to turn you

So she can have your beauty be eternal

“Don’t avoid me for long my Love! I’m going to make you perfect soon!’

The biggest challenge other than her flexibility, the cherry blossom flooded air, and her insane physical strength is her beau

Rarely does the Demon Moon of Love leave without the Demon Moon of Snakes in tow

And while for your first meetings he definitely is not trying to keep you alive for the change

After he get’s to know you and a nice talk that involves lot’s of dying lower rank demon slayers they’ll both be on the same page

Which will spell absolute doom for you as the conniving duo is not going to bother being upfront

They’ll scheme

They’ll plot

Hold your tsugoko or friends from up high as they take advantage of your heightened emotions

“I want to love you forever and ever and ever. And no one is going to stop me! Not even you”

Shinobu Kocho

She was turned along with her sister who Ubuyashiki saved after she fell ill

For years prior she had devoted herself to science, to medicine only for it to fail her at every turn

Only when she incorporated the great Ubuyashiki’s blood into her creations does she find proper results good results

And she is praised with having so many willing addicted meals and servants to offer as she produces her remedies for masses

Interacting with prey so often gives her a better way to hide and know about the demon slayer’s actions

And amateur slayers that come into her shop swords drawn are usually bullied by the surrounding towns folk

All to be beaten up and kicked out of the town becoming easy pickings at that point

She thought she’d do the same to you

By the way you walked she could sense your power and her mortal end coming closer

But you didn’t attack

Surrounded by many of her loyal customers you ask that she try the contents of a vial to tell what it is

Since it’s suspicious to the people you offer to drink it, another villager drinks it

“You’re the greatest medic in this region. Won’t you tell me what it is and where to find it?”

It’s Wisteria

Potent and poisonous wisteria

Here shinobu is faced with a choice

Attack you ruin her reputation and have to deal with a mob

Or…

drink it and writhe revealing her demon form to be attacked by the mob

“You think you’re a cunning little butterfly don’t you. Flashing your poisonous colors at me. You aren’t aware of the hunger you’ve aroused in me!”

She wasn’t happy as a human with the limits she had

So she doesn’t choose any of those options opting to kill everyone

You block the attack finding out it’s a feint for her to run away

Run away with a snarl that she hasn’t shown for hundreds of years

How dare you!?

Ruining her perfect system

When she reports to the Ubuyashiki compound by night she’s got her head down low while reporting

As expected she was chewed out not only by The Ubuyashiki but the Upper Moons as well

And there is one person she blames above all for her shame

“That despicable little demon slayer!! I’m going to make them pay!”

Her hatred for you becomes a widely welcomed truth among the other demons

Hanging your whereabouts above her head

As she snaps at them like a snarling dog

But her hatred is not simply that

She wants to own you

To hold your face as she successfully demonstrates her mass attack absorbing all within the vicinity

To clip your pretty little wings and delight in your forbidden flavor for as long as possible

When one of her colleagues theonesheclaimsshehatesthemost pressures her she’s rambling to him about how she’d never want to actually kill you nor turn you completely into a demon like she

“They’re not good enough for Master…but it’d be a shame for such a beautiful butterfly to die so quickly.”

So she’ll turn to science

Once again using her expertise to craft some serum that she plans to keep you attached to for the rest of your not-so mortal life

She’ll use her own blood measuring and testing how little is needed to give you the best parts of being a demon

She knows the clock is ticking as your life goes on

So she’ll be excited to track you down, learning as much as she can about you

Almost as much fun as she’ll enjoy making simple humans that remind her of you as test subjects

She’d even be willing to get help from one of the Upper Moons with her hunt for you

“I hope your ready for a change, butterfly! There’s nothing I can’t do without his blood.”

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cloudypariah · 9 months

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How to perpetrate and sabotage your own kidnapping: A guide for dummies.

- The creation of the board (and its subsequent discovery)

Summary: Step One: host a brainstorming session with your teammates on how best to kidnap your future abductee. Step Two: have said abductee show up half an hour into the session and begin correcting your entire plan. Step Three: realise at the beginning of their impromptu presentation the target has absolutely no idea that they’re the target. Step Four: fail anyway.

Pairing: Dark!Poly!Task Force 141 x fem!Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Content tags: Dark content - Discussions around kidnapping, tense situations. If this is not your cup of tea, please go and find something different might better suited your palate. This is an 18+ fic meaning minors do not interact with this work. No one has permission from me to repost, copy or translate my work. No one has my permission to put my work into any AI source.

Notes: This is my first foray into the COD fandom and will be the first part in a dark comedy series. Please let me know what you think. Not proofread very well, sorry for any mistakes! Thanks for the motivation @live-love-be-unique !

Link to Task Force 141 masterlist / Link to COD masterlist

Captain John Price likes to think he knows his men well enough to trust them when his back is turned. Now that itself doesn’t necessarily mean knowing each and every one of their dirty secrets - he definitely wouldn’t come out smelling like fresh daisies if any number of his were revealed - but it does mean that he has the awareness to recognise that they all share one particular secret.

He sees it in the way Lieutenant Riley’s body language shifts when you give him his medical forms to look over, your consideration at offering him the option to disclose only certain personal information making the reserved soldier relax just enough to offer you a low thanks, accompanied with a stare that stretches on for a few moments longer than considered socially polite.

It’s also so amazingly obvious with Sergeant MacTavish. John’s surprised everyone else misses the way Soap’s smile takes a little longer to fade after departing for yet another mission, your swift congratulations on completing yet another physiotherapy appointment - “ Keep it up the good work big guy” - leaving the Scotsman floating on cloud nine damn near until the plane lands.

And how could he forget Sergeant Garrick? The man’s quick to change his tune and focus up, but the captain has observed Kyle absentmindedly rubbing his shoulder, thumb gingerly stroking the spot where your palm was only moments before, your figure long gone as you retreat down the corridor to where you came from.

No, Jonathan Price doesn’t miss a thing about his men. And it only takes two weeks and a long chat in the corner booth of the bar one quiet night - sans you or Laswell - before somehow his place becomes the meeting point for an unusual, though not unwelcome, topic - you.

More specifically, how to keep you.

The wooden shit box of a sports bar was where the first two facts were confirmed amongst them: 1. Every single one of the 141 men wanted you for themselves, but they weren’t above sharing. 2. You weren’t worth killing each other over, not when there was a much easier solution staring them in the face.

John’s house became the go-to place to discuss fact number three - They needed a plan.

It was Gaz who initially suggested the whiteboard after numerous interjections from Ghost and John; from everything to how to keep this from Laswell, to deciding which of your usual hangouts would provide them with the best opportunity to commence your “relocation”, to how to delicately but firmly explain said "relocation" to you once it was complete. Kyle loves his brothers in arms and never regrets a moment where his life is on the line if it means saving any one of them, but his patience began to wear thin when Soap got bored and started using goddamn paper planes instead of words to get his point across. At that Price finally relented and bought the damn thing.

Now, John was expecting you to pop by his place on Wednesday night to drop some papers off. A perfect opportunity, were it not for the fact that the gentlemen were still disagreeing on where to relocate you. However, it’ll allow you to grow more comfortable with him while he has some alone time with you, your presence like a balm on a wound - soothing and necessary (at least to him).

He had been looking forward to seeing you… tomorrow. So when you turn up not just on the doorstep but in the middle of the bloody hallway in his own bloody home halfway through the 141 “guys night”, his secondary action of shitting bricks quickly overrides his primary instinct to eliminate the threat.

He’s on his way back from the bathroom when he sees you standing, familiar folders firm in your grasp - fucking hell, is that his spare key too? - and a sour expression on your pretty face.

Your eyes narrow further when you spot him, striding over with fury rolling off you in small waves. “Captain Price, I know you did not leave these dossiers on my desk just before the end of my work day with a note stating they all need to be completed by the end of the work day.”

John’s senses are briefly overwhelmed by you being so close to him, the sight of you angry having a different effect on him than what you had originally intended. He’s never seen it before, and his hand twitches when you’re less than a foot away - fluctuating adrenaline or the desire to reach out and hold you, he’s not sure which is more prevalent.

He always forgets to not be so obvious around you, but it isn’t as though you usually notice. (He’s not sure if the thought should make him feel sad or grateful.)

The sounds of his men arguing in the background, merely the next room over, are enough to bring reality crashing down hard.

His voice is deliberately loud and stalwart when replies. “You can’t be here.”

“Tough shit. Your lads night can wait.” You lean past him to the origin of what your gut was telling you was the sounds of the remaining 141 members quarreling. It’s easy to slip past Captain Price once your mind is set, the push of files against his chest preventing him from reacting for a few seconds - all the time you need to move down the hallway to where everyone else is bound to be.

John is quick to rush behind you, the arguing noises having swiftly changed to near cartoon-like crashes just moments before you enter the room.

Ghost has migrated to the corner of the sitting area, standing as stiff as a fucking nutcracker, a mountain of crumpled notes and paper planes spilling out from between his arms. (His mask is still on thank god because it’ll hide exactly how caught out he feels, and if there’s one thing Simon Riley cannot stand it’s feeling like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar). His eyes instinctually watch your every move, waiting for your reaction.

Both of your gazes drift to the other side of the room, with neither of you failing to notice how the couch cushions are strewn widely across the space, (with one being stuck on top of a bookshelf for some odd reason) to find not one, but two soldiers gecko’d to the standing whiteboard.

Their demolitions expert is currently splayed out on the left side of the board and desperately grabbing the top of its metal frame, his stomach pressed into the cold porcelain and a left leg hitched up in a poor attempt to conceal the incriminating writing.

Price’s protégé is in a similar state. Dear Gaz has his back against the right side, with his arms outstretched to - much like Johnny - cover as much of their group planning as possible, a coloured marker clasped in each fist.

Two deers in headlights.

The sight of his task force is enough to bring back flashbacks of his original conversation with Kate about bringing these men together because Jesus H. Christ, what the fuck was he thinking?

There are a few moments when nobody moves or dares to breathe…

… except for you, of course.

You waste no time walking over to the two youngest members of the 141 as you attempt to shove them off the board. “Move,” you demand, palms pushing firmly against their sides. “I want to know what’s so important to everyone.” When they refuse, you do your best to stare at them, pleading with a pleasantly soft, “Please.”

Yeah, they both do what you say with ease when they hear that, giving you enough space to take in the somewhat smudged scribbles.

You miss the signal John gives Simon, the Ghost moving closer to your position as John quietly locks the door, and when your attention is drawn back to the board after the other two move you also miss all of the knowing looks shared behind your back. This was very far from ideal, but how can they recover from this?

They hope you understand that whatever comes next, they didn’t plan for it to start this way.

Kyle and John call your name but you ignore them, still processing the information written in front of you.

Johnny flexes his hands, preparing for the worst as you step back and say, “This is… bullshit.”

Every single member stops. That was not the reaction they were expecting.

Turning to face the group, you scoff. “I’m not even kidding. Firstly, you’re using guys' night to work, which is horrible for your mental and emotional health. And you should all know better.”

Four sets of brows furrow in united confusion. You don’t let that deter you from continuing, your arms gesturing haphazardly at the whiteboard. “Secondly, this is hands-down one of the worst brainstorms I have ever seen. This is not cohesive in the fucking slightest. Garrick, mark me.”

Kyle chokes on his spit, his brain short-circuiting before he sees your fingers wiggling at one of the markers he’s holding. The sergeant promptly gives it to you.

Your free hand takes turns pointing at everyone else in the room, a verbal command of, “sit down” directed at each man also. Dumbly and cautiously they all do. Ghost places himself at the end of the couch nearest the entrance, John strategically chooses a spot between yourself and the kitchen, and Soap and Gaz sit closest to you, where the two of them can hear you muttering under your breath as you draw what appears to be a massive cloud shape in the middle of the board.

Once completed, you fill your shape in with the word ‘TARGET’ and slam your free hand against the board. No one flinches, but if one were to look closely there would be some eyes widening in response. Johnny swears he sees one of your eyelids twitch.

“So,” you call out, “what do we know about the target?”

There are not only wide eyes looking at you, there are full glances exchanged between your audience.

“Seeing as you had the nerve to not invite me in your little meeting while keeping me on overtime” - Kyle and John squirm at that, and your finger makes a little circle - “we are going to be working on this project together. With all due respect, I’m not asking.”

Surely not…

And it’s when Captain John Price reviews the writing left over from the others that he realises Kyle and Johnny did one thing right during their clusterfuck of a coverup.

They managed to erase your name.

… you have absolutely no idea you are the target.

A piece of writing far in the coroner catches your attention, and your shoulders slump. “The target likes knitting and ‘The Karate Kid’. In another life we would have been the best of friends.” A dramatic sigh leaves you, “Oh well, at least I’ll be able to give you some insight into the mindset of this individual. Any questions?”

Four hands shoot up.

Rubbing your hands together with glee, a maniac smile grows on your face. “Excellent.”

#dark!141 #poly 141 #darkfic #task force 141 x reader #dark task force 141 x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john price x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #sergeant kyle gaz garrick x reader #cod x female reader #female reader #cloudypariah writes

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ennobletechnologies · 8 months

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Revolutionize healthcare marketing with digital solutions for medical professionals. Enhance your online presence and engage patients effectively. Explore now!

Do Read: https://ennobletechnologies.com/healthcare/healthcare-marketing-solutions/

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deerlino · 3 months

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A LOVE MULTIPLIED ( SKZ. )

Stray Kids (OT8) | Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You've been feeling off for a few weeks, so you decide to take a pregnancy test... and it turns out you're pregnant. Excited but nervous, you go to share the news with your boyfriend. How each SKZ members would react to you being pregnant with their child? (740 words)

Content: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, HEADCANONS, Pregnancy Reveal, Baby Talk, Warmth and Comfort, Hugs and Snuggles

Warnings: Emotional Reactions (overwhelming joy, tears, and disbelief), Medical and Health Focus (discussions and actions related to pregnancy health, such as attending doctor’s appointments, eating well, and safe exercises), Mild Cursing (“Holy crap!” and “fucking”)

Author’s notes: My first shot at writing headcanons! 🤭 Wanted to try something new, and it turned out super fun and adorable. <3 I'm loving it, and I hope you all do too. Definitely gonna be doing more of this stuff! 🩶

BANG CHAN:

When you tell Chan the news, he’s floored. His eyes go wide, and he pulls you into a tight hug, lifting you off your feet. “Babe, we’re having a baby?!” He can’t stop smiling and keeps repeating, “We’re gonna be parents!”

Chan starts fussing over you immediately. “Have you eaten? Are you feeling okay? Do you need anything?” He makes sure you’re comfortable and insists on accompanying you to every doctor’s appointment.

He spends hours curating the perfect playlist of calming and happy songs for you and the baby. “Music is important, it’ll help them grow smart and strong,” he says, placing headphones gently on your belly.

LEE KNOW (MINHO):

Minho’s usual cool demeanor shatters. He’s stunned into silence for a moment before breaking into a huge grin. “Really? I’m going to be a dad?” His voice is soft, almost disbelieving.

He immediately takes over kitchen duties, making sure you’re eating well. “You’re eating for two now, gotta make sure our baby gets the best,” he says while whipping up your favorite dish.

You catch him talking to your belly when he thinks you’re asleep. “Hey little one, it’s your dad. Can’t wait to meet you.” His voice is tender, filled with love.

SEO CHANGBIN:

Changbin’s reaction is loud and enthusiastic. “Holy crap! We’re having a baby?!” He laughs, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around.

He becomes super attentive to your health, creating workout routines that are safe for you. “Gotta keep you fit and strong, both of you,” he says, guiding you through gentle exercises.

He’s already thinking of baby names and loves discussing them with you. “What do you think of Binnie Jr.?” He’s half-joking, but his excitement is contagious.

HWANG HYUNJIN:

Hyunjin’s eyes fill with tears, and he pulls you into a gentle embrace. “I can’t believe it… we’re having a baby,” he whispers, his voice choked with emotion.

He starts painting and drawing for the baby’s room. “I want them to be surrounded by beauty from the moment they arrive,” he explains, showing you his latest creation.

He’s incredibly affectionate, always touching your belly and talking to the baby. “Hi little one, it’s your daddy. We love you so much already.”

HAN JISUNG:

Han laughs in disbelief at first. “No way! Are you serious? We’re really having a baby?” Once it sinks in, he’s all smiles and hugs.

He keeps you laughing with his jokes and antics. “Our baby is going to have the funniest dad ever,” he promises, making silly faces at your belly.

He writes songs for you and the baby, serenading you both with his guitar. “This is a lullaby just for our little one,” he says, strumming softly.

LEE FELIX:

Felix’s eyes well up, and he pulls you close. “This is the best news ever,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t wait to be a dad.”

He goes on a baking spree, making all your favorite treats. “You’re eating for two now, gotta keep you happy and fed,” he says, handing you a freshly baked cookie.

Felix is incredibly loving and attentive, always checking on you and showering you with affection. “You and our baby are my everything,” he says, kissing your forehead.

KIM SEUNGMIN:

Seungmin is initially speechless, processing the news with wide eyes. “Wow, we’re really having a baby,” he finally says, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

He dives into research, reading everything about pregnancy and parenting. “We need to be prepared,” he explains, showing you an article on prenatal care.

Seungmin’s care is quiet but constant, always making sure you’re comfortable and well. “I’m here for you, every step of the way,” he promises, holding your hand.

YANG JEONGIN (I.N):

Jeongin’s reaction is pure excitement, jumping up and down. “We’re gonna be parents! This is amazing!”

He becomes extra cuddly, always wanting to be close to you and the baby. “I just wanna be near you both all the time,” he says, snuggling up to you.

He loves talking about the future and what kind of parents you’ll be. “Our kid’s gonna have the coolest mom ever,” he assures you, a huge smile on his face.

© deerlino (est. 170624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

#stray kids headcanons #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #headcanon #skz ot8 #*writing #stray kids reactions

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hotwaterandmilk · 2 months

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2024 English language manga releases I'm enjoying

Here are a couple of titles I've picked up in English so far this year that I've enjoyed. Most of these I read digitally in Japanese for one or two volumes a couple of years back, but opted to wait and purchase the English print versions for my collection.

I feel like all of these books are worth the purchase price, but don't have the energy to do individual posts for each of them. So here's a very smooshed together post covering a few 2024 reads.

GOGOGOGO-GO-GHOST! from Yen Press

Akechi Ushiro is a heavily flawed, hard-working woman whose disregard for her own wellbeing results in her coming face-to-face with her equally flawed guardian spirit, Masako. The pair decide to combine their forces and begin tackling the obstacles in Ushiro's life using curses.

Hiruzuka Miyako's darkly funny tale of a woman taking control of her life alongside her queer sister spirit is such a delight . Featuring a rough-and-ready art style that helps underscore the macabre elements at play, the entire first volume is scathing in its humour and unashamed in its portrayal of Ushiro's flaws. I was surprised when this one got picked up by Yen Press a while back, but so happy to see it enjoying a stateside release. If you're after something that doesn't always play nice, GOGOGOGO-GO-GHOST! might well be for you.

Edit: If you haven't read it before, this Japanese interview with Hiruzuka is worth reading for a bit more on her background and the creation of the series.

Pass the Monster Meat, Milady! (Akujiki Reijou to Kyouketsu Koushaku) from Kodansha USA

A sweet little fantasy romance between two individuals who find solace in one another despite being reviled by the general public for their interest in monsters. One loves defeating monsters in battle while the other loves cooking them!

Melphiera is a smart, capable heroine while Aristide Rogier du Galbraith is a dashing and supportive hero. The manga art is a bit low in detail, but the characters and story are absolutely worth your time. I'd love to see the LNs that the manga adapts in English someday too. I mentioned in tags before this whole series gives me the types of vibes I enjoy in historical fantasy romance novels, so if you like that kind of content this might be a good title to check out (or recommend to friends who appreciate romantasy but haven't tried manga before).

In The Name of The Mermaid Princess (Mio no Na no Moto ni) from VIZ Media

In a country where being "unhuman" or in some way supernaturally inclined is seen as a curse rather than a blessing, Princess Mio takes medications to suppress her mermaid-esque traits and please her father. Her perspective changes when Yuri, a tutor from her fiance's home kingdom, encourages her to be herself and embrace the things that make her different.

I've seen people say this is a bit too obvious in its parallels between fantasy oppression and IRL issues, but this is a Ribon manga for young girls so yeah it's on the nose but I think it works for the audience it has in mind. Tashiro Miya's artwork here is gorgeous and both leads are quite endearing (Mio is SO freakin adorable I can'ttttt). Overall a solid little series with nicely packaged volumes for those after something for a younger audience.

The Moon on a Rainy Night (Amayo no Tsuki) from Kodansha USA

A romantic slice-of-life tale featuring two high school girls, one of whom is a budding pianist (Saki) and the other a loner who is hard of hearing (Kanon).

I don't normally go much on high school romance but the way this series blends classic GL melodrama tropes with genuine issues in an earnest manner works for me. While we see things more from Saki's viewpoint as she eagerly tries to learn more about Kanon and tries to figure out her own sexuality, we do also come to understand Kanon's thwarted ambitions and the difficulties she has with letting people in.

Kuzushiro's art is quite whispy and cute, with all the characters tending to look quite well-realised on the page. While I prefer romances that feature a character with disability to centre their perspective, I do feel this does a decent job of portraying both girls as they try to navigate their deepening relationship. YMMV on this though, particularly if you are d/Deaf or hard of hearing.

Sketchy from Kodansha USA

Ako is living an unfulfilling life with a dull job and even duller boyfriend, but she suddenly finds herself thrust into a whole new world upon encountering a mysterious young skateboarder.

Sketchy, while ostensibly about women taking up skateboarding is more a snapshot of their individual lives and the role having a hobby plays once you're no longer a child. Ako's story particularly resonates with me (I literally worked her job at a similar age) but all the characters prove interesting in their own way.

Makihirochi's art is a bit more experimental than others on this list and may not be to everyone's taste, but I do think Sketchy is still worth checking out even if you're not entirely sold on the art (which I think has improved since I first became familiar with her work through Itsuka Tiffany de Choushoku o in Comic Bunch). Titles like this, which, let's face it, have low level of mainstream appeal, don't often get English language releases so I highly recommend supporting this one if you have the opportunity to do so.

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tranquilweek · 2 months

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Welcome to Tranquil Week!

Join us for a week dedicated to exploring the Tranquil characters from Dragon Age!

To participate, create a fanwork (art, writing, podfic, moodboard, etc.) that features a canon Tranquil character (list here!) or a Tranquil OC. Then post your work here on Tumblr from August 25th - August 31st and tag @tranquilweek so that we can reblog your post. If you have a question that isn't answered in this post, send us an ask!

Optional Prompts

image description in alt ID || text version of prompts under the cut ⬇️

You are welcome to follow our daily prompts, but it's not required! As long as your creation features a Tranquil character and follows our guidelines, we'll reblog it here.

Submitted creations must adhere to the tagging requirements detailed below and in the post here. Creations that are improperly or inadequately tagged will NOT be promoted on this blog.

This event is not a moral statement about the Rite of Tranquility. Exploring darker or potentially triggering content in fiction is not an endorsement of that content in real life. Tranquility is an element in Dragon Age canon and this event will not pass judgment on how participants choose to explore Tranquility in their works.

That being said, this event will not tolerate or promote:

Harassment of fans or moderators, including unkind or needless criticism of individual players' choices

Character hate or bashing, including blanket hate or bashing of Tranquility, the Chantry, Templars, Mages, the Circle, or other elements of Dragon Age. Criticism and critique of these elements are allowed as long as they are presented in a respectful manner.

Callouts or intentionally inflammatory language

Hate speech or bigotry against any particular group of people (minority & majority groups alike)

Art, writing, or other works created using generative AI, such as ChatGPT or Midjourney

Remember: don't like, don't read; ship & let ship; your kink is not my kink - and that is okay! If you cannot agree to these terms and participate in good faith, this may not be the event for you.

Required Tagging

See the full post about required tagging here

Dragon Age specific content tags:

chantry critical

anti-templar

anti-mage

pro-chantry

pro-templar

pro-mage

[character] critical

General content tags:

nsfw (including, but not limited to, explicit sexual content)

major character death

drugs, alcohol abuse, or addiction

eating disorders, fatphobia, or dysphoria

graphic medical descriptions or bodily fluids (esp. blood, vomit, or birth)

guns (anything to do with them)

harm to a child

fantasy hate speech, slurs, or racism

pregnancy, miscarriage, or abortion

racism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, etc.

self-harm, suicide, or suicidal thoughts

sexual violence, referenced or explicit

stalking or harassment

violence toward animals

Prompts

Use of prompts is optional! Mix and match, switch the days, don't follow our prompts, or don't use prompts at all, as you prefer.

Any form or level of human-made art is allowed! Drabbles, sketches, fiber art, podfic - if you made it, it counts.

Sun 25: Enchanting || Rite of Tranquility || Skyhold Mo 26: Focus || Mage Rebellion || Kinloch Hold Tu 27: Logic || The Breach || Wonders of Thedas We 28: Free Will || Oculara || The Gallows Th 29: Research || Cure for Tranquility || Haven Fr 30: Dreams || The Harrowing || Ostagar Sat 31: Lyrium || The Conclave || Redcliffe Village

Alternate Prompts: A once fond memory || The Fade || Spirits & Demons || The Gull & Lantern || A friend they knew before

✨We hope you'll join us in August and we're excited to see what everyone creates!✨

#tranquilweek24 #mod post #dragon age #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanart #fandom events #dragon age origins #dragon age 2 #dragon age inquisition #dao #da2 #dai #tranquility

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transbservices · 10 months

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#TranscriptTranslationServices 🌐📜

🗣️ Global Reach: Break language barriers and reach audiences worldwide with accurate transcript translations.

🌍 Cultural Sensitivity: Ensure your message resonates across cultures with translations that prioritize nuance and cultural context.

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📈 Business Expansion: Explore how transcript translation services can be a strategic tool for global business expansion and cross-cultural collaboration. #TranslationExcellence #GlobalCommunication 🚀

#medical transcription #content creation #content marketing #transcription #contentwriting #video transcription #website content writing #audio transcription

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radiofreederry · 1 year

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Hey all!

So, as many of you know, I began livestreaming this year. I hope to continue doing this, and I also have plans to expand into video content creation on the subject of left-wing history and theory, based on the positive reception to my birthday posts, beginning with videos on Eugene Debs, the Industrial Workers of the World, and the American socialist movement of the early 20th century.

However, it's become apparent that my current hardware is not equipped for these purposes. I'm working off an older Asus laptop, which is fine for web browsing and some creative work, but has proven inadequate for my purposes. As those of you who've been on my streams know, I suffer at least one crash every stream, and I've had to make compromises with my setup to mitigate the issue. High-level video editing of the type I'm hoping to do is also not possible on my current machine.

I want to make an upgrade, but with current and upcoming expenses, including changing jobs, saving for a new apartment and vehicle, and the costs that will come with bringing my dog Gumbo to live with me, I'll need help in order to make that upgrade on a timely schedule. I've done my research and have identified a couple of laptops which will suit my purposes, all of which cost somewhere in the range of $2000 or less. I'm hoping to raise money in order to purchase one and use that to produce the content which I've been wanting to make for you all.

My birthday is coming up in a month on September 7, so if you would like to make a donation to fund this effort, you can consider it a birthday gift if you like. If you include your URL in a subject line, I'll send you a thank you message on here, as well as read out a thank you message on stream or in a video.

Please note that this is not a fundraiser to enrich me personally, but an effort to invest in an ability to make content which I'd like to put out. As such, if costs for the equipment exceed the $2000 I'm seeking to raise, I will be footing the rest of the bill myself. In addition, any additional funds leftover will be donated to the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund, which helps to provide free medical care to children in need in the Middle East. I will keep none of the money for myself.

My CashApp is listed above. If you would prefer to contribute via Venmo or PayPal, please contact me via DM and I'll send you my information on those platforms.

Thank you all very much in advance, I'm both grateful and humbled by your continued support.

0/2000

#psa

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nerdraging4point0 · 7 months

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Underdog//Motionless one shot

The work below consists of fictionalized ideas and stories. It is an alternate universe story with only names and likenesses used in creation of a character. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction. Please review the content warning before proceeding.

CW: 18+ MNDI, Coach/athlete au, coach athlete sexual relationship [all parties regardless of being fiction are of legal age of consent. This does not mean that the behavior is ethical or acceptable in reality-does it happen, yes. Is that something I am going to go into? No. I am not an attorney. Per ChampionWomen Sexual contacts or “romantic” relationships between an athlete and a person who has a position of power over the athlete are prohibited. Person of power includes but is not limited to coaches, administrators, judges, referees, employers, staff, medical personnel, and even volunteers or older athletes and teammates.] the following one shot includes unprotected sex, P/V sex, fingering.

A.N: @mysticdoodlez and @ladyveronikawrites I present to you and owe you for this fucking piece of art.

Exhibition

Coach Cerulli stood off to the side in the coach's box, not saying a word, his legs shoulder-width apart as he swayed back and forth on his feet. He wears his disgustingly dark ensemble of worn high-top Converse and straight-leg jeans. Already obnoxiously tall, the dress style made him look even more intimidating. Glancing over him once, you notice an apparent sweat triangle starting at the collar of the black cotton tee he wore under his polyester team jersey. An electric green sea turtle was stitched on the right side of his chest, and Cerulli was stitched on the back. Trying to focus on your drill partner, Rachel, you steal quick glances after each ball toss. Under the black bill of his ball cap, Coach Cerulli's jaw clenched as he chewed the pale green gum between his teeth.

Rachel rolled the neon yellow ball across the rust-colored dirt toward you; spreading your legs apart, bending at the waist, glove in hand, you dip to the ground, catching the ball on its roll, securing it with your other hand, you take a step, and toss the ball to her again.

As a team, you'd been at this for an hour now; the humidity from the earlier rain made beads of sweat start at the back of your neck and under your cap. The gray storm clouds rolled over the Florida coast, looking angry; another storm was approaching.

Balmy tropical air and classic South Florida smell were something you'd missed when you were on break. Some of the girls decided to pack up and hit the slopes of Colorado for a week; you were more than eager to go. It had been a celebratory and bittersweet season last year, and you were all due for a nice getaway. Coach Adams announced last season that she'd be retiring sooner than expected. Her youngest had just graduated High School, and she struggled to adjust.

Enter Coach Cerulli.

He was overbearing and a perfectionist; he drilled and worked the team till he felt you were perfect. It worked, or maybe it was because you wanted to impress Coach Adams for her final season. Leaving the season last year, you were nearly undefeated. And it was no surprise now that he demanded the same perfection.

"You're looking soft, ladies. Let's pick it up. I wanna see some sweat, some determination, act like you fucking want it." He crossed his arms, kicking up some of the dirt from the field before he dropped down, squatting on one knee as he stretched the other to its entire length.

Several players on the team turned to look at the coach; it was no secret most of the team found him hot. He was older. Way older. But that added to the heat of the idea. You were aware of Coach Cerulli's attractiveness, his dark hair and eyes; the only part of his skin not covered in tattoos was his achingly beautiful face. Once you'd gotten close enough to see his three little scars on his bottom lip, it only added to the mystery of what had been his past. Fantasy is what it was; it was all fantasy. There was no room for error when your college life was riding on a full sports scholarship.

The team continued to drill, the breeze from the water bringing a salty taste to the air. Soon, the sun started to get lost behind the gray cover, thinking it might rain you guys out; the team slowed on drills, looking to coach and back at the sky. Coach stands up to his full height, his powerful form casting a shadow over the field. Deep and commanding, his voice brought the team's eyes and attention to him.

"I've high expectations for my team; this isn't just any season. I have my sights set on the championship title, and we won't settle for anything less." Clapping his hands, you can hear the friction of him rubbing the skin together, his tattooed fingers lacing and curling over each other in a frenzy. A low rumble of thunder sounded from the sky; Coach Cerulli pursed his lips and looked at the foreboding weather.

"One scrimmage, and we'll call it a night."

The team scrambled to their gear as he called out names and positions. You adjusted your cap, pulling loose strands of hair around your ears and reaching for your glove when the coach's voice called out your name.

"y/l/n. You're batting." There was no nonsense in his voice, and when you turned to protest, he smacked his gum between his teeth, heading to stand behind home plate.

You never bat, at least not first; the pressure is too much. You were a fielder on the team with the best reflexes and speed. Others were better at this than you. Grabbing the bat, you lower your cap and head to the base. Coach is droning on about how he demands perfection from all players.

"We won't be putting people in places of their strength. I want you uncomfortable; it's the only way you grow." He turns to look at you and nods his head. Stepping up to the plate, you take your spot, raising your bat, eyes locked on Sammi, who is pitching. She gives you a look of pity, and you know she'll take it easy on you, at least.

"Bat up." Coach growls.

"It is up," you snap back.

"If 'up' means hanging off your shoulder. It needs to be up higher. Fix your grip."

You tighten your hands on the bat's base, nails nearly touching your palms as your hands turn white.

"Too tight, you're not strangling it."

You huff out the air in your lungs, rolling your eyes. Just let me hit the ball, goddamnit.

Sammi pitches the ball. It's a simple pitch, and you swing, barely ticking the ball; it doesn't even get air, hardly leaving the home base as it rolls back to her. Just great, I look like a peewee player in front of the coach.

"Jenson, if you're gonna pitch. Pitch." he snaps.

You watch as her face turns apologetic; great, no easy out this time.

"Fix your stance." a smack of his gum between his teeth follows his command. You can hear the wet smacking sounds, throwing you off concentration. He continues to throw useless advice your way each time you miss the ball.

"You're off center."

Your patience is running thin, and you can see the players on the field becoming bored from the lack of action, just standing in the field and talking back and forth.

"Ladies, look alive!" Coach booms, and they jump into their stance.

Sammi nods at you, winding up to pitch; you lose all of the coach's advice, squaring up how you want. The swing is powerful, but the ball still whooshes by your bat and hits the fence behind the coach.

You let the air out of your lungs, turning around to see Coach Cerulli looking right at you, arms crossed over his torso. You can see his brown eyes sparkling under his ball cap.

"Nice hit," he says sarcastically.

Tossing the bat, you walk off the field, tears stinging the back of your eyes and starting to burn your throat. You've had enough for one night.

You can hear him bark orders to the team as the practice continues without you. Walking from the field, you walked around campus once, then twice; on your second lap, you realized you were halfway to your dorm and didn't have any of your gear. Your hands drag down your face in frustration, pushing your cap off your head. Your hair is sticky as you put the cap between your teeth and readjust the ponytail. Throwing the cap back on your head, you turn on your heel and head back to the field.

Making your way back, you pass several teammates; keeping your cap down, you avoid their eye contact, but the sudden silence as you pass and the sad voices that follow behind your back don't go unnoticed.

Rachel caught sight of you, jogging up to meet you halfway walking backward as you continued your walk of shame to the field.

"What's up? You walked off?" She has such sadness in her voice. She knows that you are sometimes too hard on yourself. You only have a little social life between studies and sports; your trip out of state lets you loosen up and gives you a good one-night stand. But it made you realize how much you hated having unsatisfactory sex with some drunk frat boy.

"Rough time, that's all," you confess.

"I know you hate batting. I'm sorry." you only shrug your shoulders in response.

Coach Cerulli is tossing bags of extra bats and gloves next to the storage shed; the way he lifts the gear bag, throwing it over his shoulder, you catch his shirt ride up just a bit to reveal his tattooed torso.

"Need me to wait?" Rachel asks, offering a soft touch on your shoulder.

"No. I got this." She jogs back to the campus as you enter the field. Turning at the dugout, not meeting the coach's eyes as he looks your way.

You are gathering your gear in your bag, trying not to make eye contact with the coach. The thunder is rumbling overhead again, closer than before; you can smell the rain coming. A heavy set of footsteps, and suddenly, he's clearing his throat behind you, your shoulders dropping in defeat.

"Sorry, coach." You keep your voice low and sincere. Feeling the pain in your throat again. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"What's up with you out there?" The way he sounds less demanding, and the friendly tone in his words makes a lump form in your throat.

"I just get choked up."

"Why, you're here on a scholarship. Adams said you were the most dedicated player."

"And I am." You don't bother turning around. Tossing your glove and a few extra things into your bag.

"Didn't look like it today."

"People aren't perfect; not everyone can play every position you know." You turn around to face him; he's leaning against the dugout rail, ankles crossed, hands resting on the dark blue rail.

"So, what is it that holds you back?"

"I just…. It's the crowd, the ump, and the pressure. The crowd is watching me, the team is watching me, and you're watching me." He adjusts his cap, turning his head to spit his gum out in the grass.

"Grab your bat."

"What?" He kicks off the rail, stopping till he is only a foot in front of you.

"You heard me. Grab your bat."

You scrambled for the bat as he walked back onto the field. You follow close behind, with no other teammates around the field that looks like it goes on for miles. Taking up your space next to home, you get ready to bat.

You are barely set before he criticizes you.

"Okay, first, your grip is too much." He stepped forward, putting his hands over yours, pulling your fingers loose from the neck, his large hands encasing your own as he helped re-grip the bat properly.

"Loosen up, spread your hands out a bit. There," the last word comes out as a soft whisper.

His brown eyes softened as he looked into your face, calloused hands brushing your skin; they were surprisingly well taken care of, the tattoos accenting every knuckle. The sweet smell of wintergreen off his breath, the fragrance winding up your insides.

"Your feet," he circled around till he was standing behind you, twisting your body around till you could see him again; he tsked, circling the air with his finger for you to return to where you were.

"You're always on your toes,” he complained.

His words were almost lost to the electricity in your brain; he squatted down behind you, one arm sliding between your legs to wrap around your thigh, a hand bracing on your knee, as his other massaged down my calf to have your heel flatten on the ground.

"Now, for your hips." Coach's words sound scratchy; you can hear him swallow hard behind you. His hands ghost over your hips, carefully not to actually touch you. "You must bend at the waist and practically fold yourself in half."

"Arch my back?" you offer. He clears his throat the way it sounded like he was uncomfortable.

"Yeah, sounds about right."

You adjust your hips arching your back, with your feet firmly planted against the ground, your cleats into the dirt, pushing your ass back. You feel yourself brush against his body, and he hisses.

"Easy there, tiger."

"S-s-sorry." you stammer as you try to step back. His hands grab your hips and place you back in your stance. His body is so close you can feel the heat building on your skin; suddenly, you aren't distracted by nerves but by something else.

"We aren't done; just watch it," he whispers. "You want to keep yourself firm in this spot until you're ready to swing."

A drop of warm water hits your arm, then another, and another. The rain starts to pour down in a gentle storm.

"Shit." Coach releases your hips as you both jog back to the dugout. Safe under the awning, you lose footing on the last step, stumbling into the coach. He catches you, arms around your waist, as he stumbles back.

"Sorry," your voice barely audible over the rain tapping on the metal awning; you place your hands on his chest, feeling the stiff muscles underneath. Trying to push off to create distance between the two of you. Coach Cerulli's hands don't move as he looks down at you, those dark eyes glistening under the shadow of his cap. This close to him, your senses are overwhelmed with the smell of him-palo santo and amber, a rich blend like a robust coffee in one of those expensive coffee shops.

His hands slid up your back, gently caressing over the upper part of your arms, stopping at your wrists and taking them in a grip before pulling your hands off his chest.

"Let's work on your hips some more. It looks like we've got the time." The way he says the words suggests he doesn’t mean anything about batting anymore.

He spun you around so seamlessly, releasing your wrists to take your hips in the vice grip of his tattooed fingers. Pulling your body toward him, you could feel yourself make contact with his chest; he was so tall, the feeling of what was unmistakably his own arousal resting at your lower back.

Flames licked into your lower belly as his hands tightened, then loosened on your hips. He started to move you, sliding your hips from left to right in slow motions. "Keep your feet planted on the floor." The harsh whisper in your ear made every part of your skin tremble with anticipation.

You tried to steady your breathing as he moved you in slow motion against his body. Was this all a dream? Were you asleep in physics and about to be highly embarrassed when you woke up?

Your hands rested on his, trying to prove to yourself that all that was happening was real. Leaning back into his chest, he groaned as he pulled you in closer.

"This is so wrong." your voice trembles as you speak.

"Very," he growled, kissing the soft flesh of your neck. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

Fuck, please don't.

It wasn't a good idea to continue, but the feeling, the expert way his hands held you without touching anything intimate, made you melt.

Leaning your head back into his chest, your face turned to him, desperate for his kiss. Sensing your desperation, Coach took the bill of his hat between two fingers, spinning the cap on his head so it faced backward. Closing in on your face, his full lips consuming your own, two fingers brushing your cheek, tapping twice, asking you to open.

The second your jaw relaxed into the kiss, his tongue was assaulting your own. He tasted so good, that gum he'd been chewing and something nutty at the end filling your taste buds.

You let your arm snake behind his head, cupping the back of his neck to bring him closer. One of his hands takes your breast and squeezes the flesh through your clothes, your nipples sensitive to the touch even through all the layers. His other hand slides over the front of your shorts, pushing between your thighs; your hips start to grind into his hand, desperate for friction, earning a sound of approval from the coach.

Pulling apart from each other, lips wet, red, and swollen, you were panting to catch all the air you'd lost in the kiss.

"Brace yourself, tiger," he warned.

Pushing hard against you, he shoved you forward till you folded over against the railing, his body pressed tightly against yours. Forcing your hands to grip the rail.

"Remember your grip." he teased, releasing his hold. His hands slid slowly down your sides, thumbs hooking into the band of your shorts to tug them and your panties down to your ankles. You gasped being exposed like this, the adrenaline of being caught coursing through your blood, the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears.

He kicked your feet apart, having your legs spread till you could feel the resistance of your shorts tight around your ankles. He took your hips in his hands, bringing your ass against him again, "Remember your stance." the words going straight to your center as he nipped at your ear.

His hands disappeared, and you let out a whine from losing his touch. He shuffled behind you, dipping his head in the crook of your neck to place soft kisses on your pulse point. His hand slid up the inside of your thigh, and feeling the muscles quiver under his fingers, you paused to consider what you were doing, your mind telling you that this was wrong. You'd get caught, and you'd be a disappointment to your parents. The thoughts of calling it off stopped when two fingers slid inside your warmth. His fingers scissored open and closed, swirling around before opening and closing again, stretching your walls with expert skills.

"So tight." He continued to whisper dark and dirty words as his fingers buried into you to the knuckle. The rough pressure pushes you forward and off your heels. Feeling your release boiling just under the surface, you start to grind down on his fingers as they thrust up into you, whimpering for more. You have started to lean over the rail, seeing the field's dirt and glancing down more to see both your feet and his. His pants at his ankles like yours, and the thought that his cock was out and ready for you, made you moan.

He wraps his hand around your hair, still pulled into a ponytail under your cap; rolling the strands around his hand, tugging you back so his chest is pressed tight to your back, fingers still buried deep inside you.

"Say the word, and I'll stop."

Past the point of no return, you moan, rolling your hips into his hands, still chasing your release. He presses his face into your cheek, nose running through the hairline above your ear as he inhales your scent; it's feral, it's animalistic, it's so fucking hot. His lips press into your ear, and you feel his hot breath against her skin. "You gonna come for me, tiger?"

You barely managed to nod your head before he curled his fingers, pressing on that soft spot inside you, making your walls clench around his fingers. He lets out a strangled sound of approval and surprise, taking the slick of your orgasm to rub on his erection. His left hand cupped your ass before delivering a harsh slap to the skin, making you rock up onto your toes.

He slides his length between your thighs, coating the head in everything left of your orgasm. Muscles in his chest are tight with anticipation and what you hope is desire. "Listen carefully, tiger," his voice breathless as he pants in your ear. "This is the only time I want you on your toes for me. Got it."

"Yes, coach." you gasp as his length slides into your warm center. He pumps slowly as you stretch around him, the hiss from your lips echoing across the field through the rain. "F-f-fuck." you moan.

Bottoming out with hard thrusts, Coach's hands rested on the railing on top of yours, his fingers lacing between yours as he held you and the rail in a vice grip. Your bodies molded into each other so well you felt the hem of his jersey wrap around your thighs; god, if only you could take it home with you as a trophy for this.

"I should stop," he was panting, his voice strained. "I'm gonna get fired."

"Please," you begged, turning your head to see his beautiful flushed face, mouth agape, tufts of his black hair sticking out from under his cap. "I won't say anything, just please don't stop."

"Fuck." he groaned, continuing to thrust into you, the force pushing you practically over the rail still on your toes, the muscles in your calves straining. Your thighs shook, the rain coming to an end as another tight coil wrapped itself in your belly, ready to snap.

"One more, give me one more, tiger," he growled, nipping at your earlobe. The scream as you clenched around him echoed off the field, causing him to clasp a hand over your mouth. "That's it. Scream for me."

Your noises were muffled by his hand on your mouth, and the hot breath as he panted on your cheek brought another orgasm on the wave of the first. One final snap of his hips and warm ropes filled your body, and all the tension of his muscles was released in one minute.

The magic of whatever you two did was gone when he pulled his softened cock from you, reaching down to pull up your shorts and letting you get them back on the rest of the way; you barely turned around, seeing him taking a little bounce to get back into his jeans.

"Head out, tiger. I'll see you at tomorrow's practice."

You nod briefly, grab your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and bat in the other hand. Just as you are about to leave the field, you turn around to see Coach sitting on the bench in the dugout, hands running through his sweaty black hair.

"Coach?" you let the rasp fall off your tongue, and he turns to look your way. "Extra practice tomorrow night?" giving a wink to let him know what you mean. He doesn't skip a beat, a smile tugging at his lips.

"It'll be a late practice. You game?"

"Anything for you, coach." you leave the comment in the air as you walk back to your dorm.

Crashing into your dorm with shaky legs, you throw down your gear.

"Whoa." Rachel commented, "You look brutal!"

"Thanks," you meekly respond, flopping onto the bed before curling up under the blanket.

"What did he do to you?"

"Who?" you mumbled, feeling your eyelids start to get heavy.

"Coach. You look like he had you do suicides for leaving the field?"

"Nothing gets past you, Rach." you smiled as your body drifted to sleep.

Several months later, and one game win thanks to you and a home run hit, Coach Cerulli announced his retirement. Disappointed but not surprised you accepted the new coach with open arms. She was sweet and spicy, a good coach, making your focus back on the game. The rumors were Coach moved states, you’d had his number but the digits disconnected a few weeks after his departure.

Just as well, you thought.

It was almost winter break, and a final due in Psychology had kept you up most nights, your body riddled with tension from the stress. 10 p.m., and you hadn't even bothered to try and sleep yet, your phone buzzed with a new text. Opening it up, it was a number you didn't recognize, but the message was clear.

How you been, tiger?

#miw band #miw #chris motionless #chris motionless imagines #chris motionless smut #chris cerulli #motionless au

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