#not as organized and worded as I wanted it to be

[satorusugurugurl]

I Want To

Summary: You’ve been dating Sukuna for three months since you met at Gojo’s party. He’s the best thing that’s happened to you. He’s a bit of a jerk sometimes, but he is patient. He’s patient with his younger brothers and patient when it comes to you being a virgin. But when you say, “Fuck me.” As an expression, he groans and whispers, “I want to.” Little does he know, you want it too.

Pairing: (Modern) Ryomen Sukuna X FAB!Reader

Warnings: smut, loss of virginity, language, first time.

Word Count: 3,377

A/N: I hadn't touched on Modern Sukuna in a while. So this kind of just came together! 💚

Previous Parts: Part One Part Two

Sukuna was on top of you, his hands gripping your sides as he pressed you into the couch. Lips moved fervently against each other as he growled against your lips. He took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down on it as hard as he could without drawing blood. The sharp inhale of breath that sounded from you had his cock throbbing so hard inside his pants it was painful.

It had been three months since he met you in a closet at Gojo’s house party. The initial encounter was awkward at first but quickly turned into a messy make-out session. When the doors flung open, all of your mutual friends screamed and cat-called as you found you pinned against the wall, his hand fisted in your hair, while his lips were smeared with lipstick.

That was the beginning of your relationship.

You met the brothers he had custody over. He would bring you coffee at the doctor’s office you worked at. All your co-workers stole glances as he kissed you in the lobby. Things were so naturally organic between you both.

They started spicy, his tongue in your mouth while you dug your nails into his back in a closet. But the boiling lust turned to a simmer for weeks, especially when you told Sukuna you were a virgin. He was willing to wait for you. Whenever you were ready, so would he.

Things usually ended up like this. Him on top of you, you on top of him, making out like horny teenagers. Hands feeling each other up while whimpers and growls filled the living room. Tonight, you looked ravishing. Tight-fitted jeans and a black top with cherries embroidered in it, and fuck, they hugged the fantastic curves of your body perfectly. Of course, things would get hot and heavy when you looked this good.

“Ah~ mhm~ fuck.” You gasped out as Sukuna pulled away, watching his hands squeeze and grope your tits. “K-Kuna~”

“Your tits are fucking perfect.”

You watched his hands groping and squeezing you, thumbs brushing over your clothed nipples. Your pussy clenched and throbbed, your arousal seeping out of you, soaking your panties. Sukuna drove you crazy. His kisses, the way his hands so lovingly caressed and made you.

“Oooh god,” You whined as he kissed your neck, gently rocking his hips against the couch. “F-fuck me.” You cried out, throwing your head back.

“God, I want to.”

The room felt stuffy as Sukuna pulled back, the seriousness of his words hitting him in the gut. You opened your mouth to speak back, and he quickly pulled off of you, plopping back into his seat. His eyes focused solely on you.

“Sorry.” He breathed out, covering the growing tent in his pants with a throw pillow.

God, he was so patient. He wanted things to escalate, but he wouldn't push you. He wasn't like other guys you had dated. The ones always trying to make you, attempting to take things further. They were the same guys who would get pissy, and when you’d tell them to stop. Sukuna always stopped himself. He never once tried to take things further.

He was the one. There were no ifs,ands, or buts; Sukuna was the person you wanted to be with. You wanted to have sex with him. But that meant you'd have to be the one to make the first move.

Without hesitation, you followed him, grabbing the pillow and tossing it to the side. Sukuna inhaled sharply as you straddled his hips, gently rocking against him. His large hands hovered just about your hips, not touching you but tempted to do so.

“I want to, too,” you whispered against his lips before kissing him deeply. “Kuna~ I’m ready.”

Your confession had Sumuna’s hands gripping your hips in a flash. His lips pressed against yours. “Are—” Kiss. “you—” Kiss. “sure?” His last kiss was deep, his tongue grazing yours as you rocked your hips slowly back and forth.

“Ah~ yes~ fuck yes.” you cried ou his cock throbbed inside his shorts. “I need you~ I want you inside of me.”

Sukuna held your hips before he stood up, his lips frantically moved against yours as he carried you to your bedroom. He laid you down on the mattress, crawling on top of you, his hands caging you underneath him. Having him on top of you was nothing new. You both had made out like this countless times before. But knowing that this time was going to lead to sex, it had your pussy throbbing as he slid his hands underneath that pretty black blouse with cherries on it. The same blouse he'd been wanting to rip off you all night.

“A-Ahnn.” you softly cried out as he pulled the top off, dropping it to the ground.”Sukuna~” His hands groped your breasts, squeezing them gently in his hands.

“Your tits are so cute,” he whispered as he slid his hands under your bra. “They're the perfect size.”

You tilted your head forward, watching as he slowly rubbed the pad of his thumb around your nipples in slow, tantalizing circles. Your body twitches as your nipples grow harder underneath his thumb. The feeling of them erecting underneath his touch had Sukuna growling, his hands reaching around, unclasping her bra with one skilled hand.

With the flimsy fabric out of the way, Sukuna took in your bare torsos, admiring how lovely you looked sprawled out underneath him. Your skin has a certain glow to it; whether it was because of the low bedroom lighting or the arousal, he wasn't sure. The one thing he was sure about was that you were the most gorgeous woman in the entire world.

“Beautiful.” He whispered, leaning down, trailed kissed over your shoulders. “Stunning.” down past your collarbone. “And delicious,” Sukuna growled before taking your nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.

Your back arched, trying to feel more of him against you. Your skin was aching for his touch as if he was the remedy to the burning sensation spreading over it. His tongue swirled and flicked over your sensitive bud, and his crimson eyes were locked on you. They watched, taking notes on your reactions, your subtle jerks, and what made you moan louder. When you gasped or whined louder, he made sure to do the same thing, over and over again, until you were a withering mess under him.

“More.” You pleaded, hips rocking up for the same loving treatment his mouth provided. “Please, Sukuna~ please~”

He pulled off your nipple with a —pop! One of his hands slid between your legs, rubbing circles against your inner thigh. He nipped and kissed your breasts as his hand moved further up, rubbing your pussy gently through your pants.

“You need more here?”

“Y-Yes! Please, fuck, wanna feel you inside~!”

“Inside?” He's running his flattened tongue over your other nipple. “Okay~ I’ll prep you for my cock. How does that sound?”

To feel his fingers deep inside of you was just what you needed.”P-Please!” Your needy little whines had him chuckling as he slipped his hand under your shorts and panties. “A-Ah~ Fu—fuuuck!” Thick fingers rub circles around your clit, teasing the little bud before he dips his hand further back.

“Nnng.” You're wet, so goddamn wet, it makes his cock hurt. “Mmmphm.” To anyone else? He would look angry. Eyebrows pinched together as he dips his fingers further back, rubbing them teasingly around your entrance. But you know he's just feral; he wants you so bad, to fuck you into the mattress, to make you cum. But at the same time, he doesn't want to hurt you.

There would be plenty of times to fuck you like he hated you in the future. Right now, at this moment in time, it was all about taking care of you. Making sure your first time was the best anyone could wish for.

“Ah~ ah~ hah!” But you were making it hard to hold back with those desperate mewls leaving your pretty lips.

“Goddamn.” He cursed, pressing his forehead against your shoulder. “You're making it hard for me to hold back.” His finger dips between your folds, sliding from your entrance up to your hard clit, spreading your arousal all over.

The tiniest of moans rises in your throat. “I-I don't want you holding back.” Sukuna’s fingers freeze mid-stroke, crimson eyes widening.

“You don't?”

“No, Kuna, you've fingered me and stretched me out more times than I can count. I think I can handle your co—Oooh god!” Your words are bitten off as he shoves two of his thick fingers into your cunt. “O-Oh fuck!” Your desperate sobs make Suluna finger fuck you faster, causing your hands to fist at the sheets.

“You can barely handle two fingers.” Your boyfriend draws out, his fingers rubbing expertly over your gummy walls. “What makes you think you're anywhere close to taking my cock, huh?”

“I-I can ha-hah—” your head tilts back, “handle more!”

“Oh really?” In mid-thrust, as he's pulling out, he adds a third finger, sending you nearly over the edge just from the stretch. “Heh,” he lets out a husky laugh, “only three fingers in, and you're twitching. You dirty little girl~ are you seriously going to cum from this?” His finger curled, rubbing your spongy spot.

“Nngh!” your legs try to clamp down around him, but Sukuna forces them to stay open with his legs. “K-Kuna~ Kuna~!”

“Looks like I was right—” he pulls back, “you gonna cum, gonna squirt all in your shorts? Gonna make a fucking mess in them, seeing that I haven't taken them off of you yet.” His cock throbs painfully hard. “Well, go on then. Cum~ soak these shorts like the dirty little slut you are.”

His fingers press into your g-spot, and you're a goner. You squirt, your cum soaking his hand, your panties, and your shorts. It runs down your thighs as your legs shake, and drawn-out cries of pleasure have Sukuna’s eyes glued to your face. He watches you come down, fingers fixating the sheets, as his fingers work you down. Watching you cum so hard nearly had him cumming in his pants.

He pulls his fingers out when you release your grip on the sheets. Your whole body is relaxed as you sit up, staring into those crimson eyes you lost you’d lost yourself in three months before. His chest rises and falls, and he’s gripping the fabric of his gray sweats. You know he's trying to contain himself. He doesn't want to hurt you; he wants this to be perfect.

But it had been perfect; these last three months had been the best months of your entire life.

You grabbed his shirt, tugging it over his head; your fingers trailed over the black ink that ran over his shoulders and down his chest. His pectoral twitched as you traced the intricate designs before you moved lower and lower, your hands pulled at the drawstring of his sweat. His breathing was heavier, moving from rasps to low growls deep in his chest. You knew he was close to losing his grip on himself; he just needed another push.

Lifting your ass, you tugged your soaked shorts and panties off, throwing them at his chest. “Well?” You tried to sound confident and relaxed, but your voice came out shakier than intended. “ Are you going to fuck me?” You could see the outline of his cock twitch in his sweats as you pulled a condom out of your nightstand. “Or not?” you tore the condom open with your teeth, and Sukuna lost all the control he had.

His hands grab your face, kissing you as he pins you underneath him. You kiss him back, moaning as his hands leave your face, moving to pull his cock out before snatching the condom from your hands. You could have giggled at his antics; he acted like an excited man-child, but no giggles left you as you focused on his eyes.

They were dark, full of primal lust as he rolled the condom over his thick long cock. He was excited; no, he was driven by pure need. The raw need to fuck you, to be deep inside of you, and that had you panting along with him.

“You want me to fuck you?” his voice was so hoarse and deep as he shoved you down against the bed. “This is what you want?”

“Y-Yes Sukuna~ god yes!”

He spreads your legs, rubbing his cock against your clit. “Okay,” Sukuna whispered, “it might sting a little, but you tell me if you need a minute. Understand?” the second you nodded in agreement, he was gently prodding at your entrance before he started pushing in.

You gently grip his arms, shutting your eyes tight. There's a sharp, stinging pain that makes you wince. You tighten up, making Sukuna grunt softly, his hips pausing. You’re so tight and warm around him, so damn tight he might blow his load before he even really gets to fuck you.

“Fuck, y-you gotta relax.” Sukna grits out, head tilting forward as he concentrates on his breathing. “If you don't, I'm not gonna’ last.”

Hearing him say that was both a confidence boost and a bit worrisome. You were over the moon, knowing that he felt good! But you didn't want this to end yet. So you nodded, biting down on your lip as you relaxed. Sukuna could feel your walls loosen up just a bit, giving him the chance to push further inside.

“Haah!” you gasped out as his hips pressed against yours, his cock buried fully inside of you. “Ahh fuck.” your nails dug into his skin, your pussy twitching, trying to adjust yourself to the new feeling.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a second passed.

“Mhmm,” you breathed through your nose, “I feel so full.”

Sukuna leaned down, kissing and nipping at your neck. “Yeah?” He dragged his tongue up your neck. His teeth grazed your earlobe as he breathed deeply. “Do you like feeling like that? You like being full of my cock?” The dirty words made you twitch.

“H-Huh?!”

“I asked if you like my cock being inside of you.” he slowly pulled out before pushing back in. “You were being so vulgar earlier, figured you like this shit.” your boyfriend set a steady pace, gently pulling out and thrusting back into you. “So I'll ask you again, do you like my cock being inside your pussy? Is it everything you dreamed about?” his cock pressed deep inside, hitting your cervix. “Or is it better than you imagined~?”

“I-I like it!” Sukuna smirked, pulling back to look at your face. Your cheeks were burning a darker shade; your eyes were hazy with pleasure. “I-I like it a lot, Kuna~!”

“Good~ I want you to feel good~ I want this to be everything you wanted~”

In truth, it was better than you ever dreamed of. So many of your girlfriends told you sex hurt the first time. So you had been hesitant, especially with the mere size of your boyfriend's cock. You had assumed it would hurt, maybe even hurt worse.

Your irrational fears were precisely what they were: irrational. Sukuna made sure you were ready, prepped, and wet enough. Aside from the sharp stinging sensation, you felt no other pain, nothing but pleasure, the pleasure that had your arms wrapping around Sukuna's neck, pulling him down to kiss you fervently. You felt nothing but overwhelming pleasure as his thick cock plunged in and out of you, stretching you, pleasuring you.

Sukuna groaned, his tongue sliding into your mouth, swirling it around yours. The taste of chocolate and popcorn from your movie night lingered on your tongue. The sweetness of your kiss and the erotic sounds that swelled in your chest had him moving faster. He swallowed your whines and savored the stinging pain from scratches you left down his back. It left him craving more to make your first time so unbelievably good.

But he didn't want to hurt you. So he kept the same languid thrusts. His cock slammed into you as you cried out underneath him. Sukuna was willing to keep up the pace and be as gentle as possible. But the second you wrapped your legs around his waist, being gentle was a lost cause.

“Fuck me~ fuuuck ne~” Your needy demands had his eyes shut tight, self-control slipping. “Sukuna~ fuck me~!”

Hearing you call his name like that, with his cock buried deep in your pussy was his final straw. He grabbed your hips, lifting you slightly off the mattress, before he began fucking into you mercilessly. Screaming at the top of your lungs, you dug your nails into his toned back, dragging them down his skin. The pain felt good; you felt good!

“You’re such a good fuckin’ girl~ taking my cock like a professional when you're just a virgin~” his lips trailed kisses over your jaw. “You’re getting tighter; ya’ gonna cum soon~? Gonna cum all of my cock for the first time tonight~?”

“Y-Yes!” the broken whimper in your throat had Sukuna laughing against your skin. His hot breath only makes you wetter.

“Then why don't you be a good girl and cum on my cock~” One of his hands released your hip, sliding between you in search of your clit. But just before he could touch you, you were screaming.

“G-Gonna cum~ gonna cum~! Don't stop! Kuna~! Please! Pleeease!”

His eyes widened slightly before darkening with prideful smugness. “Oh fuck~ you're gonna cum from me just fucking you?”

“Y-Yeah! Don't stop!”

His hand returned to your hip. “Then do it, little slut~ do it~ cum all over my thick cock~” Knowing he was going to make you cum from just his cock had him sprinting toward the edge of his orgasm

“C-Cum—” you squealed as the head of his cock jammed into your sweet spot. “Oooooh! Haaah!” you screamed, toes curling, head thrashing, body shaking as your cunt squeezed around Sukuna’s cock.

“Shit~ shit, so good~! So fucking tight!”

Your boyfriend grunted before kissing up deeply fucking roughly into your still pulsating pussy. He moaned and growled into your mouth as you tried your best to keep up with him as he fucked into you like he was a wild animal. He shuddered, feeling his cum fill the condom.

“Hah—ha—-ahh.” you collapse against the bed, Sukuna following you, trying not to crush you under his weight. “Wow.”

Sukuna snorted against the crook of your neck. “Wow?” he lifted his head, smirking at you. “What did I fuck the words out of you?”

“No, you didn't, I just—” You pushed his pink tufts of hair back. “I always imagined this, ya know,” your nails gently scratched at his scalp, winning a satisfied groan from him. “I couldn't imagine it going any better than that.”

“Mm, “ he hummed, “are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?”

“Honestly?”

The hesitation in your tone had Sukuna sitting up, his eyes roaming over you. “Where does it hurt?” You gently grabbed his chin, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

“I’m feeling amazing. But if I'm being honest, I wanna go again?” The shyness in your voice was all Sukuna needed to hear to relax. His cock twitching back to life at your needy confessions

“Wanna go again?” Sukuna pulled out of you, taking off the full condom before typing it up, tossing it into the small trash can in the corner of the room. Without a flaw, Sukuna grabbed another condom out of your nightstand, ripping it open with his teeth. “We'll go again.” In a flash, he had you flipped, face pressed into the pillows. “But this time, I won't be holding back~”

“Good!” turning your head to the side, you shook your ass teasingly against him. “I don't want you holding back.”

Sukuna laughed out loud, his hand fisting your hair, tugging it hand, forcing you into an arch. “Remember you said those exact words when you're crying fat tears into your pillow.” You bit your lip with a grin; this would be a long and fun night.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk reader smut #jjk #jjk y/n #jjk reader insert #jjk men #jjk sukuna #jjk ryomen #jujutsu ryomen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna x reader smut #reader x sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #sukuna au #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #reader jjk #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna jjk #jjk gojo smut #reader jujutsu maiden #reader insert

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Short Stories:

A Confession to Make

Yandere Florist (Callum) x Fem Reader

Blood red flowers laid out in a maple wood work desk, their boood red petal reminiscent of Callum’s past as a hit man. The florist hummed as he carefully cut each stem and trimmed the leaves of each flower to arrange a bouquet for his favorite customer… he wondered if (your name) understood the meaning behind these vibrant flowers and how they were a loud declaration of his love for her.

Callum sighed dreamily while he organized each chrysanthemum with white wax flowers, eucalyptus, thistle, and red hypericum berries. He truly wanted to put a lot of thought into each flower in this bouquet in hopes that his feelings finally went through to his beloved m’eudail.

Callum had been after (your name) the moment she enter his shop all those months ago. To him, she was dainty and perfect… a true lady who had easily captivated him with her shy smile and innocent eyes. Callum wanted her in ways he’d never wanted anyone else before… it was nearly carnal from how badly he wanted to bend her over and stuff her fat with his kids- woah. He had just gotten a bit to in over his head there for a moment…

The melodic dingle of the front door bell broke him from his musings. The red head quickly peaked his head out from his workroom to spot (your name) in the doorway.

“Good morning, Callum!” (Your name) giggled at the scarred man whose cheeks flushed red. “I saw that you have some new flowers in stock.”

“Give me one moment and I’ll tell you what each one is!” Callum chuckled, his green eyes scanned over her small frame in awe. (Your name) was always so cute!

Callum finished the last few touches to his lovely bouquet with a smile. The bouquet would no doubt swallow (your name), but he couldn’t help the excitement that seeped into his love stricken heart.

“Hey, I put something together for you.” Callum hid the bouquet behind his back as he smiled warmly at (your name). The young woman perked up once she spotted the bouquet. A bashful smile now on her face when Callum gently placed the red bouquet in her hands.

“You made me a bouquet?” (Your name) admired each flower in awe. It appeared Callum put a lot of thought and care into each piece of this arrangement. “It’s so beautiful… the red kind of reminds me of your hair.”

Callum chuckled before he bit his lip. It seemed (your name) didn’t understand the romantic language of flowers… but that was okay! He was willing to outright admit his interest in her!

“Well, these are much more than flowers…” Callum towered over (your name) as he pointed to each flower. “Red chrysanthemums for passion and love, wax flowers for a wish of lasting success, red hypericum berries, thistle, and eucalyptus for protection.”

(Your name) blushed when Callum grabbed her hands, the bouquet the only item in the way of the two of them from hugging.

“In other words, I’m confessing to you.” Callum whispered softly, his green eyes filled with adoration. “So what do you say? Would you be mine, m’eudail?”

#female reader #yandere fic #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere obsession #yandere imagines #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere original character #original work #yandere short story #yandere florist #yandere assassin #yandere hitman #yandere male #yandere concept #fem reader #yandere stories #Callum OC #yandere x y/n #yandere content #original character #oc x reader

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || You're Not Financially Stable [Mafia Edition]

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

CHAN:

Chan was starting to get increasingly worried about you. You had been evading him for weeks, your once warm embraces replaced by cold distance. Suspicion clawed at his mind, whispering tales of betrayal and deceit. Unable to ignore the gnawing doubt any longer, Chan set out to confront you at your apartment. As he approached your door, his heart hammered against his chest, each step a testament to the turmoil within him.

Knocking gently, Chan waited with bated breath, the tension thick in the air. When no answer came, he pushed open the door, his eyes scanning the barren room.

"Yn?" he called out, his voice echoing against the empty walls.

Silence greeted him, the absence of her presence a heavy weight upon his shoulders. But then, amidst the desolation, a glimmer of hope flickered—a letter lying on the table, its edges crumpled with despair.

With trembling hands, he unfolded the paper, his eyes devouring the words scrawled upon it—a tale of eviction, of loss, and of a new beginning. You had been forced from your home, cast aside like a forgotten memory.

Determined to find you, Chan retraced your steps, each corner of the city a labyrinth of possibilities. It wasn't long before he stumbled upon a quaint café, its windows aglow with warmth and laughter. Above it lay a modest apartment, a sanctuary hidden from the chaos below.

Heart pounding, Chan ascended the stairs, anticipation mingling with trepidation. When he reached the door, he paused, uncertainty clouding his thoughts. But then, with a resolve born of love, he knocked.

The door swung open, revealing your tear-streaked face, your eyes widening in disbelief at the sight of him.

"Channie?" you whispered, your voice barely audible above the din of the city. You never thought you'd see him again after everything.

"Yn," he breathed, relief flooding through him at the sight of you, knowing you were well...at least alive, you looked as though you'd barely slept and had been crying a lot. Tears welled in your eyes as you beheld the man who had once held your heart, his presence a lifeline in the storm.

"I thought I'd lost you," You confessed, your voice trembling with emotion. After being kicked out, your phone was off service and you'd lost your charger so you couldn't even get his number. Everyone you turned to for help ignored you or pushed you away. Chan stepped forward, enveloping you in his embrace, his touch a promise of safety amidst the chaos.

"You'll never lose me," he vowed his words a beacon of hope in the darkness. 

"I'm here, Yn. And I'm not going anywhere." He promised, kissing your cheeks and keeping you pressed close to him. He wasn't certain what the future held for you both but he was sure he wasn't going to lose you again.

MINHO:

Lee Minho, a prominent figure in the underground world of organized crime, strode into the opulent ballroom of the Grand Palazzo, his arm intertwined with that of his stunning girlfriend, you. The two of you were a striking pair; Minho, with his sharp suit and commanding presence, and you, elegant in your signature red dress, exuding grace and beauty.

The occasion was a black-tie charity event, a masquerade of the city's elite, where appearances were everything. Minho relished the opportunity to flaunt his status, but tonight, his focus was solely on you.

As you mingled through the crowd, a snide remark caught Minho's attention. A well-dressed socialite whispered to her companion, casting a disdainful glance at you, 

"Isn't that the same dress she always wears? How embarrassing. Clearly, she can't afford anything better." It was a comment you'd grown used to hearing by now, it wasn't as though you could afford extravagant gowns every time Minho wanted you to join him at a party. Minho's jaw clenched in anger, his protective instincts kicking in. He resisted the urge to confront the woman, knowing it would only draw unwanted attention. Instead, he steered you away, his mind swirling with thoughts.

Later in the evening, amidst the swirl of music and laughter, Miinho overheard snippets of a conversation nearby.

"Did you hear about Yn? Word has it she's struggling to make ends meet. Works multiple jobs just to pay the bills."

"I heard Izzie say she saw her working in a diner just outside of the city," Another voice said before laughter ensued. Minho's heart sank. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. You had never mentioned anything about financial difficulties, and he had never thought to pry into your personal affairs. But now, faced with these rumours, he couldn't ignore them.

He guided you to a quiet corner of the room, his expression troubled. "Yn, is it true? Are you having trouble with money?" Your cheeks heated with embarrassment, and you looked down, unable to meet his gaze. 

"Minho, I... I didn't want you to worry. It's nothing, really." It wasn't as though you were in tons of trouble, you just struggled to make ends meet sometimes and some weeks you'd have to survive on just noddles. Minho gently lifted your chin, his eyes searching yours for the truth. 

"Don't shut me out, baby. I need to know. If you're struggling, we'll face it together." Tears welled in your eyes as you finally confessed, 

"I've been working extra shifts at the diner, tutoring on the weekends, just to keep up with the bills. I didn't want you to think any less of me." his heart ached at your words. He had always admired your independence and strength, but now he saw the toll it was taking on you. Without hesitation, he pulled you into his embrace, holding you close.

"You don't have to do this alone, baby. I'm here for you, always. We're a team," he whispered softly, promising to support you in any way he could.

CHANGBIN:

Changbin strode purposefully up the steps to your apartment, anticipation building as he looked forward to spending time with you, the two of you had hardly spent any time together as of late since he got busy with work. However, his eagerness turned to concern as he noticed the unmistakable shape of an eviction notice pinned to your front door.

His heart sank as he read the terse words printed on the paper, realizing the gravity of the situation. Without hesitation, he knocked on the door, his mind racing with worry for you. 

When you opened the door, your eyes widened in surprise and a flicker of embarrassment flashed across your face at the sight of him standing there with the notice in hand. You'd meant to take it down when you got home from work but you'd completely forgotten when you were cleaning the apartment.

Before you could say anything, he spoke gently but firmly, "What's going on, baby?" Your shoulders slumped in defeat as you met his gaze, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I've been struggling," you confessed, your words heavy with shame and yet admitting it felt as though a weight had been taken off your shoulders. "I couldn't keep up with the rent, and now they're evicting me." Changbin's heart ached at the sight of your distress, his protective instincts kicking into high gear. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, enveloping you in a reassuring embrace.

"You should have told me," he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness. "We'll figure this out together."

Determined to help you through this difficult time, he wasted no time in springing into action. Whether it was arranging for temporary housing, offering financial assistance, or simply providing emotional support, he was determined to be there for you every step of the way. He'd been tempted to buy the apartment building out from your landlord but you'd refused to let him, promising that what he was doing was already enough

HYUNJIN:

The atmosphere in the grand hall was electric as the auctioneer's voice echoed off the walls, commanding attention. Hyunjin was dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, and surveyed the room with a practised eye, his gaze flickering over the exquisite artworks on display. It felt as though he did this a few times a week if he was lucky enough and he could never get enough of the art functions.

But amidst the flurry of bids and whispers, something caught his attention—a series of paintings that seemed strangely familiar. As he drew closer, his heart skipped a beat. They were your paintings, each stroke a testament to your talent and passion. Confusion and concern swirled in his mind as he approached the saleswoman, his tone carefully controlled.

"Excuse me," he began, "but could you tell me about the artist who donated these paintings?" He knew you'd never want to sell them and he worried someone might have stolen them from you. You'd sold a few paintings before but these were your masterpieces, the ones you couldn't even dream of selling.

The saleswoman offered him a sympathetic smile, her eyes betraying a hint of sadness. 

"The woman who donated them was struggling," she explained softly. "She didn't want to sell, but she had no choice." A surge of protectiveness washed over Hyunjin as he listened to her words. He knew how much those paintings meant to you, how each brushstroke told a story of your dreams and aspirations. Without another word, he made up his mind. As the bidding continued around him, he silently placed his bids, determined to acquire every single one of your paintings.

Once the auction concluded and the paintings were in his possession, he wasted no time in arranging for them to be hidden away, safe from prying eyes and opportunistic buyers.

Weeks passed, and Hyunjin watched as you struggled with your art, unaware of the fate of your precious creations. He knew you longed to reclaim them, to see them hanging proudly in your studio once more. Hyunjin knew you'd never let him help you if he tried to give you money for rent or even if he tried to get you to let him help with anything but he was proud of you. You'd dug your way out of the financial pit you were in until you were ready again.

"I thought we were going to dinner," You giggled as Hyunjin took you into a warehouse, the two of you were going to celebrate your new job but he wanted to take you to your paintings first.

"It's a secret." He chuckled, as you entered the dimly lit room, Hyunjin could sense the tension radiating from you. You glanced around, your eyes widening in disbelief as they landed on row after row of canvases shrouded in darkness.

"What is this place?" You whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. Hyunjin stepped forward, his hand reaching out to gently grasp yours. 

"This is where I've been keeping something for you," he explained softly, guiding you further into the room.

As you approached the first stack of paintings, he paused, allowing you to take in the sight before you. You gasped, your breath catching in your throat as you realized what lay hidden beneath the cloths. You'd been desperately trying to find the buyer for almost a week now, willing to trade him some of your other paintings for your old ones.

"These... these are my paintings," You whispered, your voice shakey as you turned to look at Hyunjin who was nodding, a small smile playing on the corners of his lips.

"Yes," he confirmed, his gaze never leaving yours. "Every single one of them." Tears welled up in your eyes as you moved closer, reaching out to touch the familiar textures of your artwork. It felt like a dream, surreal and yet undeniably real.

"Why?" You asked, your voice choked with emotion. "Why did you do this?"  He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes filled with tenderness. 

"Because I know how much these paintings mean to you," he replied softly. "And because I wanted to make sure they were safe until you were ready to reclaim them." Your heart swelled with gratitude as you looked up at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears. In that moment, you knew that you were loved more deeply than you had ever dared to imagine.

Wrapping your arms around him, you buried your face in his chest, overcome with emotion.

JISUNG:

Jisung sat patiently in the living room, his mind drifting as he waited for you to finish getting ready for your date, the two of you were going out to celebrate your anniversary tonight. Glancing around the room absentmindedly, his eyes fell upon a stack of unopened envelopes on the coffee table—bills and late notices, their contents a stark reminder of the financial struggles they faced. 

His brow furrowed in concern as he picked up one of the envelopes, his heart sinking as he read the ominous words printed on the front. He had suspected that you had been under financial strain, but he had never imagined it was this severe.

Before he could dwell on his thoughts any longer, he heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching, and he looked up to see you descending the stairs. But instead of the usual smile on your face, he was met with tear-filled eyes and a quivering lip when you saw what he was holding.

Instantly, his heart clenched with worry as he rose from his seat, crossing the room to envelop you in a comforting embrace. You snuggled into him and sniffled a little.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he murmured, his voice filled with concern. You buried your face in his chest, your tears staining his shirt as you struggled to find the words to explain. 

"I... I'm sorry," You choked out between sobs. "I didn't want you to see this... I've been trying to handle it on my own..." Your family taught you never to rely on others for your money and it was something you'd tried to stick by but it was getting harder and harder to hide your troubles. Jisung held you tighter, his own heart heavy with the weight of your pain. He had never wanted you to feel like you had to carry the burden alone, but he understood why you had kept it from him.

Gently guiding you to the couch, he sat beside you, wiping away your tears with a gentle touch. 

"You never have to hide anything from me, my love," he assured you, his voice tender and reassuring. "We're in this together, no matter what." He whispered before kissing the top of your head, your heart was heavy as you stared at the stacks of unpaid bills just waiting for you to get another paycheck.

"It doesn't matter how much overtime I do, it's never enough." You admit to him with a sad smile, you wanted to be able to do this alone but it seemed damn near impossible. 

"What can I do?" He whispered, rubbing your back softly as you stared down at the bills.

"Give me a job?"

"How about I do that and you come to live with me? We can split everything," You stared up at him, nodding with a small smile on your face, you couldn't think of anything better. 

FELIX:

Felix sat in the dimly lit restaurant with his lawyers, enjoying the ambience of the evening. As plates clinked and conversations murmured around them, the mood suddenly shifted when his lawyers leaned in to offer some advice.

"Boss," one of them began cautiously, Felix thought his name was Noel but he couldn't have been sure since the two of them were twins and he could hardly tell the difference.

"We've been noticing something concerning about the women you've been seeing lately." Felix lowered his drink to the table and raised an eyebrow, intrigued but also wary of where this conversation might lead. He hadn't given them any permission to dig into you or your life, in fact, he'd given specific orders for almost all of his men to leave you alone.

"She doesn't seem... financially stable," The other lawyer added, choosing his words carefully, swallowing a lump in his throat and Felix noted he appeared to be sweating.

Felix felt a surge of disbelief and anger. These were his trusted advisors, but their intrusion into his personal affairs caught him off guard. He clenched his fists beneath the table, trying to keep his emotions in check.

"Not financially stable?" he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. 

"What exactly do you mean by that?" His lawyers exchanged uncomfortable glances, sensing his displeasure.

"Well, boss,"  Noel ventured, 

"we mean that perhaps the woman isn't the best match for someone in your position. They could be a liability, you know?" Felix's jaw tightened. He felt a mix of indignation and hurt. You were being judged solely on your financial status and he wanted nothing more than to kick the lawyers to the curb but they'd told him something you hadn't yet. 

He leaned back in his chair, a steely resolve settling over him. 

"I appreciate your concern," he said icily, "but I'll thank you not to meddle in my personal life. I'll handle my relationships as I see fit." His lawyers exchanged uneasy glances, realizing they may have overstepped their bounds. But the Felix wasn't finished.

"And from now on," he continued his voice like ice, "I don't want to hear another word of advice on this matter. Is that clear?" His lawyers nodded hastily, sensing the gravity of the situation.

Later that night Felix found himself sitting across from you in your small apartment, your bills stretched out on the coffee table as you showed him everything that was late or on its final notice. It wasn't exactly something you were proud of but when he'd asked you if he could see it you didn't want to hide it from him.

"So Noel and Joel told you?" You laughed dryly and rubbed the back of your neck,

"I would have loved for you to tell me." He admitted, looking at the pieces of paper before he started to organise them into piles from most urgent to not-so-urgent.

"I was-"

"I know," He whispered, rubbing your hand softly as you laid your head down on the coffee table. You'd been trying everything to get yourself out of the hole you were in but it was proving to be more difficult than you'd been intending

"I think the best option is for you to move in with me," The suggestion came out so casually you thought it might have been a joke if it wasn't for him looking at you with a serious look on his face.

"Your biggest problem is your rent, once that's out of the way you'll have more than enough money for your bills." He told you with a smile, he'd been meaning to ask you for a while but this was just giving him that final push. 

"I still need to pay rent at yours," You told him and he nodded at you,

"Sure, but only once you're back on your feet, I won't take no for an answer," He smirks at you before your cheeks begin to heat up, moving in with him was the next step in your relationship, it only made sense. 

"O...Okay, great. I'll call my landlord-"

"I'll call, you focus on packing," He smirks, kissing you softly as you rush to go and get some bags and suitcases ready. 

SEUNGMIN:

Seungmin's heart pounded with fury as he burst into your apartment, only to be met with a scene of chaos. Two burly loan sharks loomed over you, their menacing presence casting a shadow over the room as they smashed objects in a display of intimidation.

Without hesitation, Seungmin stepped forward, his imposing figure radiating authority. The loan sharks froze in their tracks, their expressions shifting from arrogance to fear as they recognized him.

"What's going on here?" he demanded, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. You turned to see him, relief flooding your features at the sight of him but you were still scared that he was here. 

"It's... it's nothing," you stammered, your voice trembling with emotion. "They say I owe them money, but I don't know what to do."

Seungmin's jaw clenched as he surveyed the damage, his mind racing with a mix of anger and concern. He knew you had been struggling, but he had never imagined the extent of your troubles.

Turning to the loan sharks, he fixed them with a steely gaze. "Leave. Now," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument. The loan sharks hesitated for a moment, exchanging uneasy glances before hastily retreating from the apartment, their bravado crumbling in the face of the Seungmin's formidable presence.

Once they were gone, he turned his attention back to you, his expression softening with concern. 

"What happened?" he asked gently, his voice tinged with regret for not realizing the extent of your struggles sooner. Tears welled up in your eyes as you recounted the story of your ex-boyfriend, how he had left you drowning in debt with no way to escape. God, you'd been too ashamed to ask for help, too afraid of burdening him with your problems.

But as you poured your heart out to him, you felt a weight lifting from your shoulders, knowing that you no longer had to face your troubles alone.

"We're going to find your ex, make him pay those assholes back and then you're moving in with me," He tells you plainly, looking around at everything those two had smashed up,

"Make a list of everything they've broken, I'll have your ex or them replace it," He said sternly, looking at you as you wrapped yourself around him and cuddled into him, just happy you weren't going to go through this alone anymore.

JEONGIN:

The atmosphere at the black-tie event was opulent, with chandeliers casting a soft glow over the elegantly dressed guests. Jeongin, resplendent in his tailored suit, mingled effortlessly among the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and nods with fellow attendees.

"Isn't that your girlfriend?" Someone asked him, his gaze wandered to where his friend had been pointed and he frowned when he spotted you. His heart skipped a beat as he realized it was you, clad in a crisp uniform as you moved gracefully among the guests.

Confusion and concern mingled in his mind as he watched you discreetly from across the room. You had told him you were too sick to join him tonight, but here you were, working tirelessly to cater to the needs of others.

"Who knew you'd be dating a waitress," Someone sniggered before Jeongin "accidentally" spilt a glass of champagne down his suit, glaring at him before going back to watching you. Anger simmered beneath the surface as he approached you, his steps purposeful yet controlled. When he reached your side, he fixed you with a steely gaze, his voice low and measured.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his tone tinged with a mix of frustration and disbelief. Your eyes widened in surprise as you met his gaze, your whole body heating up. You hadn't known that this was the specific party he was going to be at tonight,

"I... I had to work," You stammered, Your voice barely above a whisper. Jeongin's jaw tightened, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. He had trusted you and believed you when you said you were too sick to accompany him tonight. But now, faced with the truth, he couldn't help but feel betrayed.

"Is that so?" he replied, his voice cold and distant. "You couldn't even be honest with me?" You lowered your gaze, your hands fidgeting nervously at your sides, it wasn't like you wanted to hide it from him but you were working four jobs and it was hard to let people know that. 

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the din of the crowd. "I didn't want to disappoint you." Jeongin's anger softened slightly as he looked at you, his heart aching with a mixture of frustration and compassion. He knew you had your reasons, your own struggles and obligations that you felt compelled to fulfil.

Taking a deep breath, he reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender despite the tension between them. 

"You should have told me," he murmured, his voice softer now, laced with an undercurrent of understanding.

"How? I work four jobs and you barely work one, I-I felt like you might hate me if you found out." You admit before he takes you in his arms, wrapping them around your waist and pulling you flush against him.

"I couldn't care if you worked none or ten, you're my girlfriend and I'm here for you, no matter what," He whispered before kissing you softly.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @piercedddriver

#skz #skz x reader #skz reactions #skz reaction #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids reaction #stray kids reactions #bang chan x reader #lee minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #yang jeongin #jeongin #kim seungmin #seungmin #lee felix #felix #han jisung #jisung #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #seo changbin #changbin #lee minho #minho

[elryuse]

OUR NIGHT IN PARIS

TWICE MINA X MALE READER

Tags : Cold Mina, Younger Male Manager Reader, Fendi Fashion Week, Night In Paris

The Parisian air vibrated with a frenetic energy – a whirlwind of posh accents, clicking cameras, and the constant buzz of anticipation. Y/n, perpetually juggling his camera bag and a clipboard overflowing with Mina's schedule, weaved through the throngs of people at the airport. A few paces ahead walked Mina, the Kpop idol he managed. Her face, as always, was an unreadable mask – a carefully cultivated persona of the aloof ice queen.

"Mina!" Y/n called out, his voice barely audible over the din. "Don't forget your sunglasses! The paparazzi will be brutal."

Mina turned, a flicker of something akin to annoyance crossing her porcelain features. "I know," she said, her voice clipped and emotionless. It was a familiar exchange, this dance they'd perfected over the years. Y/n, the ever-organized and cheerful manager, and Mina, the stoic and fiercely independent star.

Yet, sometimes, when their eyes met in fleeting moments, Y/n swore he saw a spark – a hint of warmth that contradicted her icy exterior. He knew the pressures she faced – the relentless schedules, the constant scrutiny, the never-ending need to be perfect. It weighed heavily on her, a burden she rarely spoke of.

They arrived at their luxurious hotel suite overlooking the Seine. Y/n busied himself unpacking Mina's designer clothes while she retreated to the bathroom. From behind the closed door, a soft sigh reached his ears.

"Y/n," she called out, her voice softer than he was used to. "Can you come here for a moment, please?"

He approached the bathroom cautiously, a knot of apprehension forming in his stomach. Mina stood by the sink, her face bare of makeup, showcasing the vulnerability etched around her eyes. There was a raw desperation in her gaze that sent a jolt through him.

"Mina, is everything alright?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

She took a deep breath, her perfect facade crumbling around the edges. "No, Y/n," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "Everything is… not alright. At least, not the way it should be."

Y/n's heart hammered against his ribs. He'd never seen her like this, so vulnerable, so… real. "What's wrong, Mina? You can tell me," he urged, his voice gentle.

She reached out, her hand trembling slightly as it grasped his. The warmth of her touch sent a shiver down his spine. "Y/n," she began, her voice barely above a breath. "You… you have no idea how much I…"

Her words trailed off, replaced by a frustrated growl. Y/n, emboldened by her vulnerability, decided to take a chance. "Mina," he said softly. "You can tell me anything."

She met his gaze, her eyes blazing with an intensity that left him breathless. "I want you, Y/n," she confessed, her voice husky with suppressed desire. "I've wanted you for months, maybe even years."

Y/n's breath hitched. This was a revelation, a secret confession that shattered the carefully constructed image of the cold, unapproachable star. "Mina… I…" he stammered, unsure of how to respond.

Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. "Don't you get it? This whole facade, it's killing me! I can't pretend anymore. I want to be with you, Y/n. Not as your manager, but as…" Her voice trailed off, a blush creeping up her neck.

Y/n understood. As manager, he was expected to maintain a professional distance. But the truth was, he had harbored a secret crush on Mina for a long time, his feelings masked by his cheerful demeanor.

"Mina," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I… I feel the same way. But… this can't happen. What about your career? What about the fans?"

She scoffed, a hint of her fiery personality returning. "The fans? They don't know the real me. They only see the carefully packaged idol they want to see." Her gaze softened. "But you, Y/n, you see me. All of me. The good, the bad, the scared little girl beneath the glitter and the costumes."

He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that escaped. "And I love everything I see," he confessed, his voice a husky murmur.

A hungry glint ignited in Mina's eyes. Before he could react, she grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the plush bed in the center of the room. With a swift movement, she tossed him onto the soft sheets, her body following in a flurry of silk and lace. Y/n landed with a soft gasp, his heart pounding against his ribs in a chaotic rhythm. Mina straddled him, her weight a delicious pressure on his lower body.

"Don't worry about the outside world, Y/n," she whispered, her voice husky with desire. "Tonight, it's just you and me."

Her eyes, usually cool and distant, were now ablaze with an inferno, reflecting the fire that burned bright within him. He reached out, hesitantly at first, tracing the delicate curve of her cheekbone with his thumb. Her breath hitched, and she leaned into his touch, a silent plea for him to take control.

"Mina," he breathed, his voice thick with a mixture of fear and desire. "Are you sure about this?"

A smile, genuine and breathtaking, curved her lips. "Never been more sure in my life."

With newfound confidence, Y/n cupped her face and tilted it towards his. The space between their lips dwindled, the air thick with anticipation. When their lips finally met, it was an explosion of pent-up emotions. The kiss was desperate and hungry, a clash of tongues and heated breaths that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

He explored her mouth with a reverence that surprised even himself, his fingers trailing down her back, sending shivers down her spine. Her response was immediate – a low moan escaping her lips as she arched into his touch. Her hands, usually adorned with expensive rings, dug into his shirt, pulling him closer, anchoring him to her.

The silk of her dress, a delicate shade of lavender, became an obstacle, a barrier he needed to overcome. His fingers fumbled with the zipper, a silent struggle that only heightened their anticipation. With a soft sigh of relief, the dress fell away, revealing a glimpse of her flawless skin beneath.

Mina gasped, a mixture of surprise and delight at his sudden boldness. But her surprise was quickly replaced by a fierce possessiveness. Her hands roamed his body, tracing the contours of his chest, lingering on the toned muscles of his arms.

"Y/n," she breathed, her voice laced with a newfound vulnerability.

He responded by peppering kisses down her neck, his lips trailing down to the soft skin of her collarbone. Her whimpers of delight fueled the fire burning within him. He trailed his kisses further, his hands reaching the hem of her black lace lingerie, sending a jolt of electricity through him as his fingers grazed the smooth skin of her stomach.

A gasp escaped her lips as he unhooked the delicate clasp, the wispy fabric falling away like a discarded dream. He paused, his gaze locked on her beautiful body, a masterpiece revealed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Mina met his gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of desire and a hint of shyness that sent a wave of protectiveness through him.

"Y-you're beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

The compliment, simple as it was, seemed to break the last dam holding back her desires. "Take me, Y/n," she breathed, her voice rough with passion. "Take everything I have to offer."

He no longer hesitated. With a surge of possessiveness that surprised even him, he cupped her face and deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the sweet recesses of her mouth with a newfound urgency. He explored her body further, his touch sending shivers down her spine as he traced every curve and dip.

Mina responded with a fervor that surprised him. The ice queen facade was completely gone, replaced by a woman consumed by raw desire. Her moans and gasps filled the room, a symphony of passion that echoed in his ears long after.

The night unfolded in a whirlwind of tangled limbs and stolen kisses. They explored each other's bodies with a newfound urgency, their inhibitions melting away with each touch. Y/n, usually shy and reserved, found himself taking control, his voice husky with desire as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

Mina, the dominant one in most aspects of their lives, reveled in his newfound boldness. She surrendered to his touch, her body responding to his every command with a fervor that left him breathless. As the night wore on, the initial urgency gave way to a deeper connection. Their movements became more synchronized, a wordless communication guided by instinct and an overwhelming need for each other.

As dawn painted streaks of pink across the Parisian sky, they lay entangled in the sheets, their breaths ragged and their bodies flushed with the afterglow. The silence was comfortable, a shared secret language only they understood.

"Mina," Y/n whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "W-We can't keep doing this," he finished, his voice laced with a mix of exhilaration and trepidation. The weight of reality settled over them like a cool autumn breeze after a scorching summer day.

Mina, nestled in the crook of his arm, let out a soft sigh. "I know," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. Her eyes, though still shimmering with the afterglow of their night, held a hint of worry.

The fashion week, the meticulously planned schedule, the constant scrutiny of the media – it all seemed distant and irrelevant at the moment. But they knew it wouldn't stay that way.

Y/n brushed a stray strand of hair from Mina's face. "What about the fans?" he asked, his voice barely above a murmur.

She bit her lip, a flicker of defiance crossing her beautiful features. "The fans love authenticity, Y/n. Maybe, just maybe, by showing a more human side, I can connect with them on a deeper level."

The idea resonated with him. He had witnessed firsthand the pressure Mina faced to maintain an unrealistic image. Maybe, just maybe, this could be a chance for her to finally be herself.

"But what about the company?" he continued, worry creasing his brow. "They wouldn't be happy, to say the least."

Mina, ever the strategist, offered a solution. "We can keep it a secret, at least for now. But we need a plan, a way for us to be together openly sometime in the future."

Y/n's mind raced. He knew the challenges they faced were immense, but the memory of their night, the raw connection they shared, fueled his determination.

"We'll figure it out," he said, his voice filled with newfound confidence. He squeezed her hand gently. "But for now, let's just enjoy this moment."

The following days in Paris were a whirlwind of stolen glances, secret touches, and late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours. They explored the city together, hand-in-hand under the cloak of anonymity, sharing experiences they could never have had back in Seoul.

The pressure of the industry seemed to melt away in each other's presence. Mina's smile became genuine, her laughter unrestrained. Y/n, witnessing this transformation, felt a surge of protectiveness towards her. He understood now the burden she carried, the weight of expectation on her young shoulders.

One evening, as they stood on the Pont Alexandre III overlooking the Seine, a sense of calm settled over them. The city lights twinkled in the water, casting a magical glow on their faces. Mina turned to Y/n, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence.

"Thank you, Y/n," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for seeing me, for believing in me."

He cupped her face in his hands, his gaze filled with tenderness. "It was always you, Mina. The idol, the performer, all that… It's amazing, but it's just a part of you. The real you, the one I see now, that's the one I fell in love with."

Their lips met in a kiss, a silent promise under the Parisian sky. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but they knew they would face it together, their love story a secret symphony playing in the heart of the City of Lights.

Back in Seoul, the carefully constructed facade resumed, but something had fundamentally changed. Their stolen moments, the shared secret buried deep within them, fueled their love and determination. Y/n, emboldened by their experience, started subtly advocating for Mina to show more vulnerability in her public persona. Their collaboration resulted in a poignant ballad that spoke of inner strength and overcoming societal pressures. The song resonated deeply with fans, establishing a new level of connection between Mina and her audience.

Months later, fueled by public support and Mina's increasing popularity, they decided to take a leap of faith. In a daring move, Y/n announced his resignation as Mina's manager, citing artistic differences. The news sent shockwaves through the industry, but their carefully crafted public statement, hinting at a desire to pursue creative independence, softened the blow.

A few weeks later, another bombshell dropped. Mina released a new vlog titled "My Story." In the video, she shed the idol mask, baring her struggles and aspirations, and finally acknowledging her love for Y/n. The internet exploded, but the overwhelmingly positive response from fans surprised everyone.

Their love story, a testament to authenticity and courage, resonated with millions. It sparked conversations about mental health in the industry and challenged unrealistic expectations placed on idols.

Though not without its challenges, Mina and Y/n built a new career together. They formed their own agency, one that Though not without its challenges, Mina and Y/n built a new career together. They formed their own agency, one that prioritized artist well-being and embraced vulnerability. Their path wasn't easy – there were lost endorsements, disgruntled executives, and the constant scrutiny of the media.

But they weathered it all, their love story a shield against the storm. Mina thrived creatively, her music exploring uncharted territory of raw emotions and social commentary. Y/n, his passion reignited, became her creative partner, co-writing and directing her music videos.

One rainy night in their shared apartment in Seoul, they reminisced about their Parisian escape. The city lights twinkling outside the window mirrored the sparks in their eyes.

"Remember that first night?" Mina asked, her voice laced with a playful smile as she snuggled closer on the couch.

Y/n chuckled, a warmth spreading through him at the memory. "How could I forget? You broke the ice queen act with a bang."

Her playful smile faltered slightly. "I was scared, Y/n. Scared of losing everything I had built."

He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But you gained something far more valuable – freedom, and love."

Her eyes locked with his, a familiar heat rising in their chests. The rain outside became a white noise as their gazes held a conversation that needed no words. In a silent agreement, they moved in unison.

Y/n carried her to the bedroom, the familiarity of their bodies a comforting reminder of their journey. The clothes came off in a flurry, their skin meeting with a delicious warmth. This time, the urgency was replaced by a tenderness that spoke volumes. They explored each other with a newfound appreciation, their touches laced with love and respect.

Mina, no longer the domineering force of their first encounter, surrendered to his touch. Her moans were soft, laced with a hint of vulnerability that sent shivers down his spine. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, each word a promise of forever.

As dawn painted the cityscape a soft orange, they lay entwined, their breaths synchronized in a peaceful rhythm. The rain had stopped, leaving the world washed clean and fresh.

Y/n brushed a kiss to her forehead. "We did it, Mina," he whispered.

A sleepy smile graced her lips. "We did, Y/n. We did."

In the quiet intimacy of their love nest, they knew their journey had just begun. The city outside might have been Seoul, but in their shared world, Paris, with all its stolen moments and whispered promises, would forever hold a special place – a testament to their love story, a love that dared to break the mold and embrace the beauty of imperfection.

#myoi mina #twice mina #mina #twice smut #mina smut #smut #sexy content #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #beautiful #apreciation post #update #kpop smut #kisses #paris

[sweetnsour1]

10:53:01

Fluff, Bakugou x fem reader

Part 1 of 2

“You’re kidding.”  

“Why would I be kidding?” His tone had shifted. You could hear his brows and eyes furrowing at the strangled laugh you had shakily exhaled. 

“How did you find out?” He had to be fucking with you. 

“Um, the mission briefing...like usual?”  

“What?” Shit, so he wasn’t fucking with you. You blinked away tears of frustration already threatening to leak into your voice. Stupid. 

“Huh?”  

“So, you’re really leaving?”  

“Have to, beautiful.”  

“But...” 

“Yea, I know. I’ll miss you too.” His tone was getting softer with every awkward response you choked out. 

“No, I mean...” You let the words trail off. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten the meaning behind this quickly approaching date. Your brain couldn’t even craft a way to bring it up without whining. You couldn’t do it. “Just be safe, okay?” 

“The hell do ya think I am? I’m always safe.” 

“Safer than your version of safe, please.” Your tone was firm as it delivered the familiar words, a ritual every time he left for a mission.

The memory of the first time you’d made the request came to you easily. He was in the doorway of your office, backing out, bumping his wide shoulders into the frame as he failed to smoothly exit. Red spread across the skin directly below his mask. You had thought you had overstepped, maybe he was upset that you questioned his performance. Your head had tiled to the side in confusion when instead he only said, “Yes, ma’am.” He landed a smack against the head of the blonde hero snickering behind him as he walked off, mumbling something about shutting up.  

“Mmm.” You smiled. Maybe he was thinking of that day too.  

“‘Mmm’ isn’t a promise.” 

“I’ll be back before Saturday. Promise.” 

“Back with all the parts you left with.” 

“Ya gonna’ love me less if I don’t?” His words were obviously being spoken through a smile now, or a smirk more likely. 

“Depends on what you lose.” A part of you melts at the chuckle let loose in your ear.  

“Bullshit.” 

“Mhmm.” You’re quick to agree but want to hear him laugh again. “If you come back hurt, I’ll just kick your ass for not listening to me.” 

‘What if I come back without an ass?” His laugh is cut short as you hear a familiar voice inform him how that would be highly unlikely to count as coming back safe. The tone on the other end gets harsher as he tells the man with him to mind his damn business. You roll your eyes at the familiar sounds of bickering bubbling between the two heroes. You pull Katsuki’s attention back to you as you catch the sound of Deku’s mediating attempts only pacifying Todoroki.  

“Don’t you have a flight to catch?” 

“Yea.” You quirk an eyebrow at the leftover hostility worming its way into his conversation with you. He hears it too, coughing back to a gentler version before he continues. “I’ll see you Saturday, beautiful.” 

“See you Saturday.” Your words fall forward in a mumble towards the screen already reminding you that you’d ended the call. Fuck. Fuck. 

“Fuck.” 

You rolled your head forward; thankful it was still early enough in the day to start making all the calls you’d need to. You did a few of those dumb square breaths that your therapist swore by. It was annoying that it helped. A feline reminiscent stretch was the only other action you took before opening the most frequently used document saved on your phone. The twinge of regret at the sight of the bright orange header was promptly shoved aside as you began scrolling down to the vendors’ contact info. By the third call, you had quite a script ready to go as soon as someone picked up: Hello, sorry to bother you right before closing. I actually have you guys booked for the event tomorrow night. There’s been a change of plans and I would like you to deliver the (whatever they were in charge of) to (whatever organization could use it) as a donation instead of delivering anything to the venue. After that, it was always a short confirmation of details before you dialed the next number on the list.  

The biggest loss was the venue...no, that was wrong. The biggest loss was not being able to get Bakugou’s birthday right AGAIN. You really weren’t sure anymore if the blame was with you or the universe or maybe Bakugou was a villain whose only agenda was to thwart your birthday attempts. Well, you were pretty sure it was you, but it was way past ridiculous at this point. His birthday had been a disaster or disaster adjacent every year since you’d started dating.  

There was the first one where you got flustered when he had the audacity to go for the first kiss, getting you flustered enough to drop his gift, a very not waterproof limited edition and vintage All Might card, off the bridge and into the river. The next involved a mistake where you accidentally had Kirishima drop him off at the wrong address...not realizing there were two locations for the restaurant you two had your first date at. The one after, you ended up hospitalized for just a few days, missing his birthday completely because your dumb ass didn’t wake up in time. Although he technically had spent it with you, you just weren’t conscious. You both had work the one after that, so not really your fault on that one. But you did forget his present at the office and so ended up giving it to him the day after, so that part was your fault. 

He was always annoyingly understanding about the trouble you ended up causing on the one day every year that you wanted to be the least troublesome. He would just laugh it off, thanking you for an unforgettable day. He’d call you cute or sweet or a menace. He’d say his birthday wasn’t anything to stress about.  

His words would be so much easier to accept if he didn’t seem to feel differently when it came to your birthday. He never gave a gift late or damaged or less than perfect. He never messed up the date or time or location. He never forgot any part of his plans or goals for the day. It was always irritatingly more than what you would’ve imagined or expected. Not that birthdays were a contest, but...if they were, you were fucking losing badly.  

You slid your phone further across the counter after your last call. This was supposed to be the year you got it right. You’d even enlisted a dangerous amount of help for a surprise party: Kirishima to keep Bakugou from finding out, the head assistant at their agency to get the scheduling information just right, Mina was charged with the guest list, Kaminari and Sero were assigned the entertainment (with final approval from you after a near x-rated disaster). You even had Midoriya help you decide on a present.  

Everything was finally going to be perfect. You were so determined. You had even stupidly begun to feel safe in your victory. The party was supposed to be tomorrow. And now, he wouldn’t be back for nine days. Fuck. Fuck.  

“Fuck.” 

You pawed at your phone again, sending a quick text to Mina so she could notify the guests of the cancellation. You were already exhausted from the last half hour of calls and just wanted to crawl into the bed that was now dumber and colder and emptier than it was supposed to be. Before burrowing, you sent “code yellow” to the One Brain Cell group chat, following the ridiculous list of emergency code phrases made up by Kaminari. You didn’t think you’d end up using them, but here you were.  

You then finally set your phone aside for real, pretending to set the urge to sulk along with it. This was part of the job. He was needed and that was a priority...helping people should come first (and it always did). Even if a selfish part of you, that seemed to get louder every time he was called away, wanted nothing more than to convince him to stay. The man you were in love with wouldn’t just give up his purpose or his morals like that. Not even for you. It was admirable. As a hero, you loved and respected that. As his girlfriend, it made you feel more jealous and selfish than you would ever admit.  

You would just have to not suck next year.  

Inspired by the request sent in by @mentallyablaze-writes

Masterlist

Part 2 coming soon

#Bakugou #Bakugou fluff #Bakugou x reader #pro hero bakugou #Bakugou imagines #bnha #bnha fluff #bnha Bakugou #bakugou katsuki #fluff

[thewulf]

The Analyst's Arrival || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Hi can I request a hotch x bau reader? I'm sure its been done before but I just love your hotch fics!! When Strauss hires the reader without Aaron Hotchner's approval, tensions run high. Hotch is distant and a little mean, but the reader's unwavering positivity and kindness start to chip away at his walls... Read Rest Here

A/N: Really loved writing this one. Hope you all enjoy!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,

Word Count: 4.2k

TW: Yelling, gunshots (non wounded), general CM triggers

The BAU conference room hums quietly with the usual pre-meeting chatter. Derek flicks a crumpled paper ball at Spencer who is engrossed in his latest physics journal. While JJ shares weekend plans with Prentiss. The light mood does little to ease the stiffness in Aaron Hotchner’s posture as he stands at the head of the table with his folders organized neatly in front of him.

The door swings open and Erin Strauss steps in. It was a rare occurrence that immediately draws everyone’s attention. You follow behind her, your confident stride belying the curious glances you receive from the team.

"Good morning, everyone," Strauss begins. Her voice pulling the room into a focused silence. "I’d like you to meet Agent Y/N L/N. She’s joining us from the NYPD where she served in the Major Crimes unit. Agent L/N has a sharp analytical mind and extensive field experience which I’m confident will be invaluable to our team."

Hotchner's eyes narrow slightly, not at you, but at the way Strauss seems to relish the surprise on his face. He had not been informed of this decision—a move that didn't just sidestep his authority but outright ignored it. A move he hated.

As polite smiles and nods pass around the room, Hotchner remains motionless. His gaze finally landing on you. You seem unaffected by the tension your presence has stirred as you returned his scrutiny with a polite, unwavering smile.

"I'm very excited to be here and look forward to working with each of you," you spoke. Your voice steady and warm. "I’ve heard only the best about the BAU team."

"Thank you Agent L/N," Strauss cuts in smoothly. "I’ll leave you in Agent Hotchner’s capable hands." With a final nod Strauss exits, the click of her heels echoing a stark finality to her departure.

There is a brief silence as you linger in the doorway. "Why don’t we get started then?" Hotchner says. His tone more a command than a suggestion. "Morgan, Reid, can you bring Agent L/N up to speed on the current case?"

As the team dives into the details of their latest unsolved case Hotch observes you. You listen intently, asking pertinent questions that demonstrate not just your understanding but your capability to dive right into the deep end. Despite his initial resistance he can't help but admit—albeit grudgingly—that you seem competent.

Yet as the meeting progresses Hotch feels a gnawing sense of irritation. It isn't directed at you, but at Strauss and the situation he’s been forced into. Watching you interact with his team, a part of him wants to see what you can do. To see if Strauss’s confidence in you is justified. But as the leader of the BAU and with walls built from years of leadership, admitting that will take a bit more than just a good first impression.

In the days following your introduction the BAU team falls into a familiar rhythm with you, gradually weaving you into the fabric of their tightly knit group. Spencer shares book recommendations, curious about your interests. While Morgan teases lightly, testing your sense of humor. Prentiss and JJ involve you in their lunch outings often asking about your experiences with the NYPD.

However, Hotchner maintains a professional distance. During briefings he is succinct, his interactions with you strictly businesslike. His questions about your reports are pointed and perhaps harsher than necessary. You sense his doubt. Not just in his words but in the lingering looks that question your conclusions or the slight frown when you speak up during meetings.

One afternoon you're updating the team on a profile you've been developing. "Based on the victimology the unsub is likely someone with a deep-seated resentment towards authority figures. Possibly stemming from a troubled childhood," you explain as you clicked through the presentation slides.

"Seems like a stretch without more evidence," Hotchner interrupts abruptly. His critique hangs in the air. Heavier than the typical scrutiny profiles usually receive. You notice a brief exchange of looks among the team, but they remain silent.

Despite this you maintain your composure, responding calmly. "I'll dive deeper into the case files and see if I can substantiate that with more specific behaviors," you assure him with a nod that's meant to show both your respect for his experience and your confidence in your own skills.

As you work later in the quiet of the empty briefing room refining your profile, Hotchner watches from his office. The light from his desk lamp casts a long shadow and his expression is unreadable. The easy acceptance from others contrasts starkly with his skepticism and it's clear that you have yet to earn his trust.

One evening as you're the last two in the office Hotchner approaches your desk with his usual resolve towards you. "Agent L/N, I want our profiles to be watertight. I can't have assumptions without solid evidence," he states. His voice low and firm.

"I understand, sir," you reply, meeting his gaze. "I appreciate your guidance. I'm here to learn and contribute as effectively as I can."

There's a pause, a moment where something unspoken passes between you. Perhaps it's the acknowledgment of your dedication, or maybe it's Hotchner wrestling with his own reluctance to accept change. He nods curtly and leaves you to your work.

Despite the cold front you don't let it dampen your spirit. Instead, you double down on your efforts, pouring over case files late into the night. You were determined to prove your worth not just to Hotchner, but to yourself. Your positivity and commitment slowly chip away at the team's initial reservations and even though Hotchner remains distant you start to feel like a part of the BAU family.

As weeks pass your insights during case reviews become sharper. Your suggestions more intuitive. The team begins to rely on your judgment. They sought out your opinion, and slowly, very slowly, you notice a thaw in Hotchner's demeanor—a nod here, a less critical question there.

But the wall he has built around him isn't one to crumble quickly and you know that gaining Hotchner's full trust will be a marathon, not a sprint. Still, your unwavering kindness and the diligent sparkle in your eyes during every case discussion continue to sow seeds of change. Even in the stony ground of Hotch’s reserved heart.

A couple of weeks later and Hotch finally decides you’re ready to join the team in the field instead of staying behind with Penelope. Not that you didn’t like working with her you were just craving to do what you were hired to do.

The air is thick with tension as the BAU team arrives at the suspected hideout of the unsub at an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. It's late, the darkness only broken by the beams of flashlights and the occasional flicker of police sirens in the distance. Hotchner's orders are clear and concise. His voice a calm command over the sound of rustling tactical gear.

"Reid, Y/N, you're with me. Morgan, Prentiss, take the east side. Radio if you make contact. Everyone, stay sharp," Hotchner instructs. His eyes scanning the perimeter before leading you and Reid towards the main entrance.

The warehouse is a labyrinth of shadows and echoing spaces. A place that seems to absorb sound and light alike. You follow Hotch with your senses heightened every training you’ve undergone pulsing through your veins. As you navigate through a maze of crates and discarded machinery, a noise—a soft scuffle, almost imperceptible—catches your attention. You signal to Hotchner and Reid pointing towards a dark corridor off to the left.

"Stay here, cover us," Hotchner whispers. His gun raised as he edges toward the sound with Reid close behind.

You position yourself with your back to a solid surface, gun aimed at the corridor. Your mind races through various scenarios, but nothing prepares you for the sight of a figure lunging out of the shadows. Heading straight for Reid with a knife glinting in the dim light.

Without a moment's hesitation you break cover, tackling Reid out of the knife’s path. The impact sends you both sprawling to the ground just as Hotchner turns, firing off two quick shots. The unsub goes down, a groan echoing off the walls.

"Reid, you okay?" Hotchner is immediately by your side. His usual stoic demeanor replaced by concern.

"Yeah, thanks to Y/N," Reid gasps. His eyes wide with the adrenaline of the near miss.

Hotchner turns to you. His expression unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly his features soften, the corners of his eyes crinkling not with frustration, but something akin to gratitude. "Good work, Agent L/N. That was quick thinking."

Your heart pounds not just from the action but also from Hotchner's acknowledgment. "Just doing my job, sir," you manage to choke out though the gravity of the moment isn't lost on you.

As the team secures the scene and paramedics check over everyone Hotchner keeps glancing your way, his gaze lingering longer than usual. In those looks there’s a new respect, perhaps even a reassessment of his earlier doubts about you.

Later, as the team debriefs back at the BAU, Hotch publicly commends your actions. "Agent L/N’s instincts and bravery tonight might have saved Dr. Reid’s life and potentially others. Excellent work."

The team’s applause is warm, genuine, and you can't help but feel a surge of pride. More than the praise it’s Hotchner’s nod of respect towards you that marks a significant shift. It's a turning point not just in your relationship with him but in your place within the team. Your actions have not only proven your worth, but they’ve begun to dismantle the walls Hotchner had built around himself, brick by brick.

In the weeks following the intense warehouse operation the dynamic within the BAU team subtly shifts. You are no longer just the new agent. You have proven yourself as a vital part of the team. Hotchner notices the change not only in how the team interacts with you but also in his own perceptions.

One crisp autumn morning as the trees outside the Quantico offices burst with gold and russet hues, Hotchner finds himself observing you from across the bullpen. You’re assisting Morgan with recalibrating the physical training program for new recruits. The ease with which you handle the task, balancing Morgan’s strength with strategic insights, does not go unnoticed by Hotchner. There's a gentleness mixed with competence in your approach. A stark contrast to the decisive action you displayed in the field.

Later that day, you offer to stay late to help Morgan review the training schedules, ensuring they are optimized for the team’s needs. Garcia joins in eager to add her tech-savvy touch. Hotchner overhears laughter from the office you’re sharing, a sound that is light and genuine, making him pause as he packs up for the night. The sound of friendship and shared effort makes the BAU feel more like a tight nit family and he realizes you are a big part of that shift.

During a team briefing the following week Hotch openly seeks your opinion on the psychological conditioning aspects of the training program. As you outline your thoughts by citing recent research and adaptive training methods he listens intently. The team watches this interaction, clearly seeing Hotchner’s respect for you which influences their own views.

When the team encounters a critical situation with a string of high intensity raids you suggest an innovative tactical maneuver that saves valuable time and minimizes risk. Watching you handle the pressure with composed determination Hotch feels a significant shift within himself—a deep-seated respect for your skills and a growing admiration for your resilience.

It’s not just your professional competence that reshapes his thoughts but also your empathy and dedication. You take the time to ensure that the team is not only prepared physically but supported mentally. A role that enriches the team in ways Hotchner hadn't anticipated.

One evening as everyone is about to leave you pass by Hotchner’s office. He calls you in, an impromptu gesture that surprises even him. “Agent L/N,” he begins, his voice reflecting a mix of professional respect and something more tentative. “I’ve been meaning to say… your work, especially in these past weeks, has been exemplary. I initially misjudged you and I want you to know I appreciate what you bring to the team.”

Your response is a nod accompanied by a warm smile, but his words catch you off guard and a faint blush colors your cheeks. “Thank you, sir. I’m just glad to be here, and I really truly appreciate your guidance.”

It's then, in that quiet moment, as the setting sun casts a warm glow through his office window highlighting the blush on your face and the sincerity in your eyes that Hotchner sees something he hadn't fully allowed himself to recognize before. The softness of the light, the quiet dignity with which you accept his praise and the undeniable warmth of your smile strike him profoundly.

For a brief moment Hotchner is silent, observing you not just as a capable agent but as a person whose presence has subtly but indelibly changed the fabric of the team—and his own perceptions. The realization that he finds you beautiful, in more ways than one, surfaces quietly but powerfully in his mind. This acknowledgment isn't just about your physical appearance but encompasses the entirety of your influence on him and the team.

As you leave his office with a certain lightness in your step. The thoughtful look on Hotchner's face mark a turning point. It's a small almost imperceptible moment, but it’s one where personal and professional lines blur slightly, hinting at deeper unspoken possibilities that neither of you may yet fully understand.

The next case up had been grueling with long hours and high stakes that left the entire team feeling the weight of their responsibilities. As the post-case debrief wraps up in the BAU conference room the team disperses, leaving behind a palpable relief mixed with the usual fatigue. But as everyone else heads out to grasp at some much-needed rest, Hotchner lingers at the conference table organizing his notes with more care than perhaps necessary.

Seeing you gathering your belongings slowly he finds the resolve to address the change he's felt brewing within him. "Agent L/N, could I have a moment?" he asks. His voice much softer than usual.

You nod, curious, setting your bag down and returning to the table. The room is quiet now, lit only by the dim lights left on for the night shift.

Hotchner takes a deep breath, his demeanor uncharacteristically open. "I owe you an apology," he starts. His eyes meeting yours. "When you first joined the team, I was... less than welcoming. I questioned your capabilities. Not because of any fault in your record or your behavior, but because I was resistant to the change you represented."

You listen, surprised by his candor, as he continues, "I've always insisted on control, on predictability. After everything I’ve been through, it seemed like the only way to protect the team, to protect my family from further loss. But I've come to realize that I was protecting myself more than anyone."

Hotchner pauses. His gaze shifting away momentarily before returning to yours, more intense, more vulnerable. "You’ve brought a new perspective to the team, a resilience and warmth that I didn't know we needed. You've saved lives, not just through your actions in the field but by being who you are. And...” he hesitates, the next words clearly weighing heavily on him, “and I find myself grateful, not just for your contributions to the team, but for the light you've brought into my life."

Your heart skips a beat at his words. The formal barriers between you melting away in the quiet honesty of the moment. “Thank you, Hotch," you respond, your voice low. You were touched by his admission. "I’ve always admired your dedication and getting to see this side of you, it means a lot."

Hotchner nods with a slight smile breaking through his usual reserve. "I guess what I’m really trying to say is, I would like to... explore this, whatever this is, with you. If you’re open to it," he adds quickly, almost awkwardly.

As the room quiets and you acknowledge Aaron Hotchner’s feelings. Even though your elated you feel that pit of dread form in your stomach. Aaron was your superior… a shadow of concern passes over your face, quickly deepening into visible anxiety. "Hotch," you start, your voice carrying a mix of hope and worry that quickly spirals into panic. "What about Strauss? If things change between us... I mean, if we do this, couldn’t it really complicate things? What if it impacts the team, or your position, or—"

Seeing your distress, Hotchner steps closer. His expression softening significantly as he picks up on your escalating fears. "Hey," he interjects gently, his tone soothing. "Let’s just take a moment, okay?"

You pause, your breath shaky, caught up in the whirlwind of potential consequences that his words had unwittingly unleashed.

Hotchner reaches out slowly. He was giving you time to accept his comfort before his hands rest lightly on your shoulders. "We're not going to rush into anything," he assures you, his voice calm and steady. "Yes, there are risks, and you’re absolutely right to consider them. But we’re not in this alone. We have a team that supports us, and we have each other."

His words help, but it's the firm comforting presence of his hands, the warmth from his touch, that really begins to calm your racing thoughts. "We'll be careful," he continues. "We’ll make decisions together. I respect you too much to let this cause you any distress. If it ever becomes too much, we stop and we stay professional. That’s a promise."

Your breathing slows, steadied by his reassurances. Looking into his eyes you find a sincere commitment there. A steadiness that you’ve always admired in him now directed towards nurturing whatever might grow between you.

Seeing that you’re still tense, Hotchner does something he rarely does—he pulls you gently into a hug. It’s a careful gesture making sure to respect the boundaries but offering comfort. "We’ll handle whatever comes, together," he murmurs. "You're not in this alone."

The hug was unexpected but deeply comforting. It helps to dissolve the last of your apprehensions. You let out a slow breath, allowing yourself to lean into the embrace. You felt a sense of safety in his support.

"Thank you, Hotch," you manage to say with your voice muffled slightly against his shoulder. "I needed to hear that. One step at a time. I can do that."

"One step at a time," he confirms. Giving you a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to respect your space. "We have all the time we need."

As you both leave the conference room, your steps feel lighter. The burden of immediate decisions lifted. With Hotch’s support you feel ready to face whatever challenges might come knowing that not just the weight of the case, but also the weight of new possibilities could be shared.

In the weeks that follow your relationship with Hotchner develops quietly but deeply. Both of you are cautious, acutely aware of the professional boundaries that must be maintained in the intense environment of the BAU. Yet outside of those walls, in the small, stolen moments you find together, a new world seems to unfold. A world where you can be just Aaron and Y/N, not agents with burdens too heavy to bear alone.

You start with simple coffee dates after long shifts where the conversation drifts from case debriefs to shared interests in literature and quiet confessions about your lives outside the FBI. These moments are a revelation, filled with laughter and soft looks that linger longer than necessary. They are moments that stitch the fabric of your relationship tighter with every thread of shared vulnerability and joy.

Aaron, who has always been guarded with his emotions, finds in you an understanding ear and a comforting presence. You learn about his son, Jack, about the painful loss of his wife, and how these experiences shaped him, not just as an agent but as a man who fiercely protects those he loves. Your empathy and gentle encouragement help him navigate the lingering shadows of his past. Allowing him to embrace the possibility of happiness again.

For you, Aaron becomes the person you didn’t know you needed in his strength. His steadfast nature and unyielding integrity inspire you, guiding you through the complexities of your role within the BAU. His belief in your abilities boosts your confidence and his support becomes your anchor in the turbulent sea of your demanding careers.

Together you navigate the highs and lows of life at the BAU. After particularly harrowing cases it’s Aaron who helps you decompress by taking long walks by the lake near your apartment or simply sitting together in comfortable silence. And it’s you who brings light into his evenings with Jack making sure to join them for movie nights and slowly becoming part of the family he holds dear.

The relationship does not go unnoticed by the team but the respect you both maintain at work ensures that your personal lives enrich your professionalism rather than detract from it. Your colleagues see the subtle changes—how Aaron smiles a bit more, how you’re both more relaxed despite the demands of your job.

After a few months of dating, you and Aaron walk hand in hand along the quiet paths of a nearby park, he stops, pulling you close. The city lights cast a soft glow around you, and the world feels like it’s holding its breath. "Y/N, these past months have shown me something I hadn’t dared to hope for," he says, his voice low and full of emotion. "That it’s possible to find light even in the darkest places. You’ve brought that light into my life."

You smile while reaching up to touch his face gently. "And you’ve shown me that strength isn’t just about holding up the world on your own, but knowing when to share the load," you reply, your heart full. "I love you, Aaron."

"I love you too, Y/N," he whispers, and as he leans down to kiss you, it feels like a promise. A promise of a future together where love and understanding can thrive amidst the chaos of the life you’ve chosen.

As autumn turns into winter the relationship between you and Aaron blooms amidst the frosty edges of the season, weaving warmth into the crisp air around you. Your love, quiet but profound, becomes the silent strength that both of you draw from during the demanding days at the BAU.

One chilly December evening after a usually tough case that had stretched your limits and tested your resilience, Aaron plans something special to celebrate not just the end of the case but the life you are building together. When you arrive at his house after the long day, you find the living room transformed into a cozy winter wonderland. It was complete with soft blankets, flickering candles, and a fireplace that crackles with warmth.

Jack was at a sleepover and Aaron greets you at the door with a gentle smile dressed in a comfortable sweater that makes him look homier than ever. "I thought we could use a quiet night in," he smiles while leading you into the room.

The table is set with your favorite foods and there’s a gentle playlist humming through the speakers filled with songs that have slowly become 'yours'. Aaron pulls out a chair for you, his manners impeccable as always, but his eyes are shining with a joy that is purely personal. As you eat, the conversation flows easily—plans for the holiday, funny anecdotes from the day, shared dreams for the future. After dinner Aaron leads you to the couch where a blanket is draped invitingly. He sits beside you pulling you close into his side, and you nestle against him feeling the steady beat of his heart.

“Y/N,” Aaron murmurs, his voice soft in the quiet of the room, “when I think about all we’ve been through, I realize every moment led me right here, to this. To us. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

You look up at him touched by the sincerity in his voice. “And I can’t imagine a better person to share my life with,” you reply. Your hand finding his. “You make everything... brighter. More beautiful.”

Aaron smiles, his gaze tender. “I have something for you,” he says while reaching into his pocket to pull out a small, exquisitely wrapped box. He opens it to reveal a delicate silver necklace with a pendant that glimmers softly in the firelight—a compass.

“It’s to remind us that no matter where we go or what cases we face, we’ll always find our way back to each other,” he explains. His fingers brushing lightly over the pendant before fastening it around your neck.

You touch the pendant overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gift. “It’s perfect, Aaron. Just like this night, like this.”

He leans in with his lips meeting yours in a kiss that is slow and sweet, a seal over promises made and kept. The rest of the evening passes in gentle laughter, shared kisses, and dreams whispered between the folds of blankets under the watchful glow of firelight and twinkling stars outside your window.

Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y

#aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner hurt/comfort #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner au #jack hotchner #x female reader #fem reader #reader insert #x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds aaron hotch #criminal minds

[rooksamoris]

💞 — 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

💞 — in which you try to unionize the mostro lounge, but the boss, azul, just happens to be your boyfriend.

💞 — azul ashengrotto x reader

💞 — warnings: just a little suggestive, not explicit.

💞 — 1.6k words.

“No, you guys—we need to fight for our rights. By any means necessary,” 

Jade and Floyd looked at you in amusement and annoyance, respectively. You could not be seriously trying to unionize the Mostro Lounge. Azul was probably the most pro-capitalist/anti-union guy on campus. He had justified roping you, his beloved, into working overtime with the excuse of “it's for the profit motive, sweetheart” and yet you still stupidly thought you could manage to unionize his establishment? It was cute.

The more sneaky of the twins laughed, politely hiding his grin behind his immaculately gloved hand, “And you plan to do this how?” he asked.

A blush of embarrassment trailed up your neck and to your ears. You had very little experience with grassroots organizing—which meant you were drawing a blank, “Uhm—I don’t know. We… uh… we should make demands and find a cool name for our union,”

“Unions schmunions—let's just not come to work,” whined Floyd.

You shook your head, “We need a union before we try going on strike… uhm, how about ‘Night Raven Labor Organization’? It rhymes and would look good on a flyer,” you suggested, placing your fist in your palm. You were embarrassingly desperate at this point. Your boyfriend was constantly tricking you into working sickeningly long hours for him, claiming it was fine since you guys were dating and he helped you pass alchemy—but still.

Jade was entertained, so he indulged in your theatrics, “Oh, that sounds wonderful. Do not worry yourself over the flyers, I… I will handle that,” he said, purposefully pausing just to watch the suspicion creep into your mind.

Before you could reject him, Floyd stood and lazily draped his arms over your shoulders, “You know, you’re gonna break Azul’s heart, being against him like this,” he said, a sudden toothy grin coming over his features at the thought of what chaos could come from your silly plan, “Standing against your ‘sweet Zuzu’ for the working class,” 

You frowned at him, “We–well, something needs to be done, even if it means his feelings are mildly hurt.”

The plan was in motion. You had already gone ahead and spoken with the other employees at the lounge, and while most were apprehensive—fear of Azul was pretty common—some still believed that you could convince your boyfriend to be kinder to his workers. Jade had told you he made flyers, and you were heading over to the lounge to go check them out, and then meet up with the others for the meeting. 

But the moment you walked in, Floyd shoved you towards the office with a giddy grin, “Shrimpy’s in trouble…” he whispered.

You stiffened, “Huh? What do you mean? Floyd—”

“Azul wants to talk to you,” he told you, knocking on the office door before scurrying off, leaving you to gulp and adjust your necktie.

Azul opened the door with a suave grin, gently wrapping his arm around you, his hand lingering at the small of your back, “Ah, sweetheart,” he said, affectionately kissing your temple. He pulled you inside, shutting the door with his foot before guiding you towards one of the sofas in his office, “You’re looking as gorgeous as ever,” he added, pouring you a glass of fruit cordial before taking his seat across from you, his hands folded on his cane and his legs crossed.

You always hated how smooth he was, “Ahaha…” he laughed awkwardly, “Uhm… you wanted to talk?”

One of his brows raised, “Do I need an excuse to see my beloved?”

“O–Oh, no, of course not—I just mean—”

His laugh cut you off. Sevens, how you loved that laugh, “You’re so nervous…” he trailed off, his bluish-purple eyes tracing over the ceiling before making their way towards your eyes, a single brow raised.

You were nervous. Hell, this was the most bizarre experience ever. You were unionizing your boyfriend’s establishment—you spent the night in his dorm room, just for you to wake up the next day and have secret meetings with his employees. You were ashamed, but not enough to quit the union. Azul had been abusing his power for too long now. Your lips had parted to speak, but you were cut off when he slammed two papers on the coffee table.

One was a flyer with a pig-like depiction of the bourgeoisie, dressed in a fancy suit and surrounded by money, and the second was the union demands which you were supposed to go over with the other employees today.

“Azul—I… I can explain—”

“How cute.” Azul gently tapped his foot as he watched your face fill with horror at being caught too early, “For a union organizer, you’re pretty disorganized. You trusted Jade with the flyers? The fact that you trusted Jade with anything is just hilarious,” he said, letting his cane lean against the sofa. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.

“Listen, Azul…” you started, before he cut you off, with a mere raise of the hand. That bastard Jade—

He cleared his throat before picking up the page of demands, “‘We members of the Night Raven Labor Organization…’ did you come up with the name, love? It’s nice. It rhymes, seems you do pay attention to my marketing rambles. Anyways, ‘We members of the Night Raven Labor Organization are proposing a chance of bargaining before any attempts of protest or striking,’ ooh, look at you, threatening me. How adorable,” he said, grinning at your embarrassed face. 

You hid your face behind your hands, groaning softly as your face started to feel extremely hot. You peeked at your boyfriend through your fingers, seeing that smug smile on his face, “Azul… this was a last resort,” you tried to explain, but he only set the page down and stood up again.

It was not like you did anything wrong. He was overworking his employees—he’s lucky you did not go Karl Marx on the guy and encourage the workers to arm themselves against him. When you met his eyes again, he was standing in front of you, gazing down at your seated form with a neutral expression. 

He was thinking of how to proceed. On one hand, you were the love of his life, and on the other hand, you were working against him. When he first heard of it, he was hurt, but after some reflection, he knew he could make you give up on this.

With a gloved hand, Azul traced over your face, enjoying the way you looked when you sat in front of him, gazing up as he stood. His hand cupped your jaw, thumb lazily tracing over your bottom lip. His pale skin was covered with a little blush over how your breath hitched, “You wouldn’t want to hurt me, would you?” he asked, leaning closer.

You shook your head as much as you could while in his grasp, “No, Azul… it's just—well, uhm, you know,” he stammered.

He played up a soft frown on his lips, and he felt your eyes trail to the beauty mark beneath his lip, “But, angel… when I saw that you were unionizing behind my back,” he paused, and sighed, brows furrowing slightly. He played you like a fiddle, “I was just so hurt,” he confessed. In reality, Azul did not care enough to be brokenhearted over your union attempts.

“I’m sorry, Azul,” you told him, and you were about to protest again, but he shook his head.

“If you had concerns, you could have just told me,” You bit your tongue, despite how you wanted to tell him that you had tried to complain to him and he put the profit motive above everything else. Instead, you just pouted and nodded to his words. You couldn’t help it. All you wanted to do now was kiss him since he got so close.

Azul’s hand remained on your face as he glanced back at the flyer, “And a fat rich man, angel? Really?”

“I didn’t make the flyers,” you blurted.

His gaze softened. He had you right where he wanted you, nodding to your words to make you relax before he leaned down and kissed your head. And then he bent down a bit to meet your lips, kissing you like you wanted. Azul’s hand slipped from your jaw to your shoulder, while his other hand rested at the backrest of the sofa so that he could lean down. 

Your hands immediately darted to grab him closer, tugging on his uniform blazer as your lips parted for breath, “Azul….”

He was blushing too, lips parted as he panted to catch his breath, “I thought I was an evil capitalist—what happened to your union?” he asked, teasing you.

Your brows furrowed softly and just pulled him in again, capturing his lips once again and groaning against his lips as you took the chance to take control, pulling him down on the sofa with you.

Azul’s eyes widened in surprise, his hat slipping off and his glasses nearly joining if he hadn’t held them up in time.

You showed up to the union meeting late, with your clothes all disheveled and your hair a mess.

“My, my,” chuckled Jade, as he took in your appearance with his piercing eyes. He knew that this would all end up like this, with you being too quick to bend to the will of his boss, and his boss being manipulative enough to get you to forget about your ambitious goals.

Floyd frowned, “Does this mean we’re not getting guns to threaten the capitalist class??”

Sevens, what a major fail.

#💖 — amoris writes #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #octavinelle #floyd #floyd leech #jade #jade leech #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #azul ashengrotto x

[artigas]

I’m really happy that Black Sails is experiencing a bit of a renaissance, but (predictably) some of the takes I’m seeing online are so busted. It’s wild to me that anyone would complain about the fact that Anne Bonny kisses Jack after she’s developed this life-changing relationship with Max. It’s absolutely wild to see anyone roll their eyes or feel uncomfortable about the fact that Flint has sex with Miranda when he returns to her in season one or that Max is most likely a lesbian but actively has sex with men for pay and knows how to make that pleasurable. It’s crazy to me that some of the very audiences who claim to want queer representation feel so discomforted when they actually see the mess and seeming inconsistencies of queerness that they asked for.

The reality is that there are lesbians who have had (and will have!) meaningful, mutually-gratifying, and deeply sexual relationships with men. There are gay men who’ve enjoyed having sex with women, who are gay as the day is long and nevertheless feel sexually attracted to a woman or two and are nevertheless gay men, full stop. There are gay cis men who are happily married to trans women. There are femme dom tops and butch bottoms and there are mascs afab people who like femme boys. There are non-binary people and trans men who actively identify as lesbians. There are ace and aro people who enjoy thinking about and engaging with sex — sometimes in fiction and sometimes in real life. Queerness, in fiction and in reality, defies neat categorization. That is the beauty, power, and (perceived) unorthodoxy of queerness.

Now, I’ll say this — do I think the straight men behind Black Sails were actively thinking deeply and insightfully about the paradoxes and fuckery of queer identity when they wrote Black Sails? No! By their own admission, Steinberg and Levine have owned up to the fact that some of the writing of the show was really hinged on their own blind spots as people who are not (to my knowledge) members of the queer community. If I want to be generous, I think that the beautiful mess of Black Sails is that, in not feeling like experts enough to designate specific identity labels to any of their characters, the writers stumbled their way into more authentic representation of lived queer experience, which is to say that the notion that James Flint was actively thinking of himself as a gay man was anachronistic. As many lesbian archivists and theories have noted, the notion of a queer identity — as in, queerness is who you are, not what you do — was patently unthinkable for most cultures in the past. In other words, the idea that Anne Bonny operates in the eighteenth century as a lesbian and thus would not willingly engage in relationships with men is not only untrue of the series, but untrue of most recorded lesbian experiences in the real world. The notion that a lesbian would operate her entire life without engaging sexually or romantically with men, for instance, is a very new privilege that some of us are very lucky to enjoy, but it is not true for the vast majority of human history — hell, it’s not even true of our present world.

This is all to say that think that there’s something really funny about how we want queer characters to fit into neatly organized boxes. This isn’t a new problem, either. When the show was still airing, the BS fandom would get itself into tizzies about wether or not Flint is gay or bisexual, wether or not Anne Bonny is a lesbian, wether or not Silver is queer when his only canonical relationship is with Madi, etc etc. We’ve been having these discourses for years and I don’t know. I get that much of it is fueled by how badly some people want to see themselves represented in media, but . . . well. The siloing of queer characters and queer narratives into neat little boxes has never felt very authentic to me and nine times out of ten, it’s also just so damn boring.

#black sails #anyways I gotta stop yapping #its just wild seeing the same arguments play out on twitter and other corners of tumblr when like #lmao I was there for the day when like 2.5 people got very angry that I referred to Max as a queer woman ONCE #and interchangeably with calling her a lesbian lmao #when I tell you … I love this show but those writers were not being that intentional with any of this lmao

[sitp-recs]

Favourite Drarry recs (long fics maybe? pretty please?) that are ideally to enjoy this Spring season ?

Hello again! That’s a great ask - I have a long fic rec list that you might find interesting, but this inspired me to do something more specific with Spring vibes feat house renovations, cooking as love language, gardening, domesticity, no angst romance etc etc etc. This is 100% based on my own perception of spring vibes btw, but I hope you’ll enjoy these as much as I did!

💐 Short fic:

magic in the making by @getawayfox (G, 2k)

I didn’t see Malfoy for a year after the trial. When Gin told me that, according to Pansy, he had opened a little posh bakery in Mayfair, I thought she was joking, so I went to see for myself.

Market Saturdays by @sorrybutblog (M, 3k)

In which Harry is an accidental part-time cheesemonger, Draco is an organic farmer and they fall in love. Not an AU.

The Long Fall by @tackytigerfic (M, 3.6k)

It's supposed to be a simple house renovation, and maybe it's just the paint fumes, but Harry is feeling dizzy around Draco Malfoy. And what's the real meaning of family, anyway?

Ice Snakes, Glow-worms and Wolverine Stew by khalulu (M, 8k)

Harry Potter apparently wants to talk to Draco about something, but odd events keep getting in the way of that conversation – and bringing them closer together. Featuring serpentine travels, misbehaving birds, dubious roofing projects, a gay beach, and an unexpected matchmaker.

Life goes not backward by @shealwaysreads (T, 9k)

Harry still isn’t used to gifts, but this one is different. A story of coming home, finding safe ground, and the wild courage of putting down roots.

A Truth Universally Acknowledged by @sorrybutblog (M, 17k)

A year out from the war, Harry agrees to accompany Hermione on a historical walking tour of Pride and Prejudice. Not in the itinerary: running into Draco Malfoy, setting off a summer of stately homes, lavish parties, resentful shagging, and maybe, falling in love.

amid this warm and steady sweetness, orphaned (E, 21k)

Harry is not living in a period drama, no matter what his friends or his new house or Malfoy’s sudden affinity for horse-riding might suggest, and if one more person uses the word courting, he’s going to start hexing people.

💐 Long fic

Moldova's Magical Tea by @aibidil (E, 32k)

Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and—to everyone’s surprise—Draco Malfoy are opening a magical tea shop to revive wizarding tea culture and, hopefully, to bring the community together after the war. Harry, who is unemployed and trying to find his way in post-war society, wants to help his friends with their new business—but that means spending a lot of time around Malfoy.

Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon by @drarrytrash (E, 36k)

According to Harry’s personal narrative regarding the incident, he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy for purely self-destructive reasons, or out of convenience, or by some unlucky accident. Looking at him, sprawled in the moonlight, Harry is devastated to recall that he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy because he’s hot.

Follow the Water by @xanthippe74 (T, 40k)

Harry Potter’s life is fine. Maybe a little dull and predictable, but he shouldn’t complain about that, right? When he unexpectedly finds himself at Luna’s house one afternoon, Harry gets invited to join the secret wonderland that she’s creating with a surprising group of friends. Maybe a summer outdoors is just what a former hero needs to bring some zest back into his life.

Through the May Air, Over the Ocean by tsauergrass (T, 45k)

Draco Malfoy never expected to find himself in Scotland or being stuck in a cottage with Potter—but wonders never cease. A story about warmth, a story about falling back in love. A story about a flock of sheep in the distant fells of Scotland.

Our Objective Remains Unchanged by @citrusses (E, 46k) - Muggle AU

Harry Potter, returning member of the Oxford University Boat Club, has two goals for the spring of 2005: beat Cambridge, and beat Draco Malfoy. Perhaps not in that order.

Sweeten to Taste by @saintgarbanzo, @babooshkart (E, 51k)

It starts with Draco's buckwheat crepes with honeyed oranges. Or maybe it starts with his porridge with toasted walnuts and homemade apple butter. Or perhaps it starts with the cinnamon buns Draco made from scratch with mascarpone icing. Harry just knows he's hungry for more.

Against All Odds by momatu (E, 54k)

Beauxbatons is hosting the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe, and Harry has promised to enroll Teddy as his birthday present. Meanwhile, Draco is stuck in his office, putting together the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe during, when he should be enjoying summer holidays.

What Branches Grow by @the-fools-errand (M, 55k)

When a run-of-the-mill investigation turns up evidence that the Death Eaters may be resurfacing, Harry seems to be the only one who believes Malfoy has anything to do with it. Yet according to official records, he’s been the poster child for the Ministry’s post-war Rehabilitation program, living in a small muggle town in Wales.

Meet Me at Midnight by @the-starryknight (T, 57k)

Harry was beginning to wonder if he’d ever make anything again when Malfoy stormed through the door of Harry’s furniture shop. Now Harry’s got an impossible Ministry commission to finish, and even less energy than ever to deal with his elusive muse. That is, until he stumbles upon the surreal and beautiful world of a mysterious fae creature…

Stately Homes of Wiltshire by waspabi (E, 58k)

Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.

The Promise of Summer by Omi_Ohmy (M, 66k)

How was Harry supposed to know that coming back for eighth year would be so confusing? Everything is the same, and yet not the same. And nowhere is this more obvious than with Draco Malfoy. Harry finds himself once more watching and following Malfoy, trying to work him out. When they are drawn together to heal the castle, Harry doesn’t just find Malfoy - he also finds himself.

Home Truths by @skeptiquewrites and @fantalfart (E, 67k)

In the off-season Harry decided to fix up Grimmauld Place and found that Draco Malfoy was the only person who could help him. A demanding career and unrelenting press scrutiny were enough to deal with before Harry added a house with a mind of its own, family history, and a tense, flirty, complicated relationship with his childhood nemesis to the mix.

The Claiming of Grimmauld Place by @bixgirl1 (E, 74k)

When Grimmauld Place begins fighting against Harry’s ownership of it, he decides he needs help to train the historic home — but little does he expect that it’ll be Malfoy who’s most suitable for the challenge. However, as Malfoy and Harry get closer, Harry comes to understand that expectations aren’t always the best path by which to guide his heart — and in the process learns just what is needed to make a house a home.

Knead by laughingd0g (E, 83k)

This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy's lean arms.

Wild, orphaned (E, 92k)

“No,” Harry said, by way of greeting. Malfoy’s blonde head rose slowly, carelessly. “Get out.” “I feel as though we’ve already established this, Potter,” Malfoy responded. “And I feel that what we established was that you telling me to get out of places really doesn’t make me more likely to vacate them.”

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by nerakrose, dustmouth (T, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (T, 103k)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.

Any Instrument by @dictacontrion (E, 131k)

Draco Malfoy wouldn't go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can't control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

#asks #Drarry reclist #spring reads

[rafesfavgirl]

jj maybank dating a swiftie

in honor of ttpd, and bc i made a rafe version so it was only right to feed my jj girlies too <33

pairing: bf!jj x swiftie!reader

context: you're a swiftie dating jj maybank.

words: 278

warnings: reader's a MAJOR swiftie

let's be real, jj's 100% a closeted swiftie and the BIGGEST swiftie boyfriend ever—like screams the lyrics with you in the twinkie and everything.

he's not a kook, but he would definitely work extra hours and save up just to get you tickets to the eras tour.

"j, you didn't have to do this." "i wanted to."

he'd match and dress up with you, no question.

pope and john b would 100% make fun of him for it, but he wouldn't care.

"anything for my girl," he says, squeezing you up to his side as kie and sarah take pics of the two of you.

his favorite songs are cruel summer and betty—and he knows every word to each of them.

he'll occasionally surprise you with one of her cd's so you can play her in the twinkie.

dancing with him to ALL of her songs—slow or not.

his favorite album is 1989.

when you can't sleep at night, he'll put on folklore or evermore and play with your hair until you do.

he knows to only put on taylor's version.

he'll organize a swiftie themed birthday party for you.

"i can't believe you guys did this!" "it was all jj's idea."

him only posting you to taylor swift songs on his stories; you doing the same for him.

matching taylor swift captions on insta posts.

he could listen to you sing and play taylor on your guitar for HOURS.

"i've loved you three summers now, honey" "... but i want them all."

him knowing all of the titles to her albums.

"you're such a swiftie boyfriend, you know that?" "i am not! … okay, maybe just a little."

expect a new part to my jj/rafe series by tn!! :)

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

#jj maybank #jj #cute jj #swiftie jj #swiftie reader #jj x reader #jj x y/n #jj maybank hcs #jj hcs #jj dating a swiftie #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj obx #jj outer banks #obx #outer banks

[gwennybriggs]

Abracadabra:

Link if you want it:

Or! You can read it here :)

Word count: 1,475

Inspired by a line from a Chappell Roan song that’s been stuck in my head for weeks.

It’s a little spicy, but not too spicy! I’m not super comfortable writing smut, but decided to try it out again since it’s been a few years. Enjoy, cuties!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The birds were chirping and the sun was shining bright when you woke up that morning; you knew it was going to be a wonderful day. You rolled out of bed, pulled on your skirt and blouse, and waltzed out the door to make a stop at the coffee shop down the street. It had become your normal Friday routine to stop and grab a hot chocolate for yourself, and a coffee for your favorite coworker, Melissa Schemmenti. In turn, Melissa would bring a danish for you and a muffin for herself. You weren’t exactly sure when or how it happened, but you looked forward to it every week.

It had been a bit of a stressful week with state testing and the kids were over it just as much as the teachers were. Janine convinced Ava to allow her to set up a talent show as a ‘carrot’ for the end of testing week.

“Carrot? What the hell you mean, carrot? Ain’t nobody lookin’ for a vegetable, girl.”

Janine rubbed her temples, “You know, like when you put a carrot in front of a horse to keep them moving. It’s a little motivation to get people through the week.”

“Whatever. You can have a talent show, just make sure Melissa stays off the stage with her horrific impressions. I simply cannot listen to her butcher The Godfather again.”

You prepared all week to share your magic tricks with the school. Jacob caught wind and asked if you would like to join him in his magic act, claiming that your combined expertise would win you more applause. You reluctantly agreed and spent all of Thursday evening with him at Melissa’s house practicing. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the redhead had been there, but she spent the evening with Barbara instead.

You could smell Melissa’s perfume before you even stepped foot in the lounge and it made you smile. During your first year at Abbott you developed the tiniest crush on her, but at this point, you were flat out in love with the woman. You didn’t exactly hide the fact that you liked her that way, but you never said it out loud either. Melissa had told you she was bisexual but leaned more towards men fairly early on in your friendship when you told her you were a lesbian. After sharing a bottle of wine together you asked her what her type was.

“Big burly men with beards who can take care of me or pretty little ladies who with let me take care of them. What about you? So I know what to look out for for ya,” she responded with a chuckle.

You fought yourself not to reply with a simple ‘you’ and gave her a vague description of herself instead. She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. The two of you shared some casual flirting over time, but you just chalked it up to her treating you like a close friend.

The lounge was already buzzing when you walked in, everyone talking about what their students were doing for their acts or which teachers signed up. You crossed the room to set your things down before walking over to Melissa to exchange goods. She beamed up at you when you placed your hand on her shoulder and her cup on the table in front of her.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week, thanks doll face,” she sipped her coffee and handed you a raspberry danish.

“Likewise! Thanks, pumpkin.” You winked at her and took your seat across the room with Janine, Gregory and Jacob, completely missing Melissa’s coy smile in response to the nickname.

The bell rang and everyone gathered their belongings to start the day. You and Melissa were the last ones in the room as you moved things in the fridge to fit your lunch. She came up behind you, resting her hand on your hip for balance as she leaned into the fridge with you to move her containers. You froze at the contact and mentally begged yourself not to blush. As she leaned further down, her hand slid over to your ass. Your eyes were glued to her cleavage, beautifully illuminated by the refrigerator light. You quickly turned your head when she caught you staring.

She stood up, her hand still slightly splayed your ass. Your face was beet red. “No need to steal glances hon, all you gotta do is ask,” she clicked her tongue and made her way out the door, swaying her hips dramatically. She knew you were watching.

More than a little flustered, you splashed cold water on your face and left to tend to your students. The hours ticked by and you struggled to focus on anything other than the feeling of Melissa’s hand on your backside. You were looking forward to spending lunch with her and Barbara, but Jacob insisted you practice with him one more time before the talent show. Between bites of pasta you made coins disappear and reappear from behind Jacob’s ear and cheered him on as he mastered revealing the chosen card.

The entire school gathered to watch the staff and students perform at the end of the day. You took a seat next to Melissa, waiting for your turn.

“You got any hidden talents you’re gonna share with us, red?” You poked at her side.

“Nah, can’t share my talents here kid. I wouldn’t be allowed back on school grounds,” she smirked. “Just joshin’, Ava forbade me from doing impressions so I’m stuck in the crowd. I’m excited to see what youse cooked up for your act though, Jacob hasn’t shut up about it.”

“Ha, I’m sure he hasn’t.”

Janine introduced your act and you followed Jacob onto the stage. The two of you played off of each other’s tricks with the crowd ooh-ing and aww-ing. You had always enjoyed tricking people with sleight of hand, but you enjoyed it even more when you were able to fool an entire auditorium. When the four minutes of fame were over you returned to your seat next to Melissa. She nodded her approval and continued to watch the show.

A few minutes later you excused yourself to use to restroom. The bathroom was empty and you did your business quickly. As you opened your stall door you jumped at the sight of Melissa sitting on the counter. You hadn’t even heard her come in.

“Oh Jesus!”

“It’s actually Melissa, but I get that one a lot.” She slid off the counter to stand next to you as you washed your hands.

“Very funny,” you rolled your eyes.

She moved closer, her breasts brushing your arm. “Yeah, but you like it when I’m cheesy like that.”

Your breathing hitched. “I d-do,” you stuttered and melting at the close proximity.

“So, tell me what else you like, gorgeous.” She was nearly straddling your right leg. Her eyes filled with fire as she brought her hand up to your cheek and traced a finger along your jaw line.

You stifled a whimper and bit your lip, unable to speak without making a fool of yourself. She moved even closer, now actually straddling your leg, you could feel the warmth of her. You placed your hands on the counter to keep yourself upright.

“I know you like magic.” She nuzzled her face into your hair and lowered her voice to a whisper, “I’ve got a wand and a rabbit.” She punctuated her sentence with a light nibble to your earlobe. You gasped; a cold chill ran up your spine and you couldn’t hide the shiver. Her hand on your left hip pulled you in between her legs so that her core was pressed firmly against your thigh.

You squeezed your eyes shut, you wanted her to ruin you right then and there, but the school day wasn’t over and the talent show was about to let out.

“Mel, I want this,” you whined and guided her free hand down to your soaked panties, wanting her to feel exactly how bad you wanted, needed, her. “But we can’t do that here, not now at least. Like you said, we wouldn’t be allowed back on a school grounds.”

She lifted your skirt so you could feel her own wetness through her leggings against your bare skin. “My house, eight o’clock.” Melissa kissed you with such fervor that it made you want to go back on your words. “Bring whatever other magic tricks you have up your sleeve, or in your nightstand drawer,” she winked and playfully smacked your ass as she walked away.

You tried desperately to gather your thoughts and some semblance of composure, your mind racing with the image of Melissa playing with her toys- and you. The redhead was going to be the death of you yet.

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #jacob hill #ava coleman #janine teagues #magic tricks #red wine supernova

[belle--ofthebrawl]

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.6k

Pairing: Ifrit/Rain, mentions of Ifrit/Dewdrop/Rain

Tags: Public Masturbation, Semi-public blowjobs, possessive behavior, Cuckolding, kink denial on Dew's part but it's fine he's fine it's fine they're all fine.

Summary:

"Dewdrop." He finishes stupidly.

Rain shrugs, a strap of his camisole falling down one shoulder with the motion.

"My Dewdrop…" he muses, tracing patterns on Ifrit's thigh. "I like the sound of that."

Ifrit doesn't remember how the night began and he's certain he won't remember how it ends but that doesn't matter right now. Right now he's got a nice buzz going, a nice grassy spot under a tree to stare at the sky and his hand wrapped around his cock because hey. Why not.

If he concentrates, he can hear the others by the bonfire, still whooping and hollering as they dance and fight and fuck. He could join them but that would mean moving more than just his hand across his dick and he's not really feeling it right now. More interested in feeling himself. Maybe one of the others will stumble across, offer their own hand or mouth or even more but for now, Ifrit's intent on a little self-love.

There's no point in saying he's not vain because he absolutely is. This physical form had been good-looking to start with and when he found out he could modify it? Just by moving around or getting inked up? Siblings were practically lining up at the gate for his, heh, personal attention in the gym as a trainer. He was completely focused and professional during classes. But once that session was up? They knew where to find him.

Wasn't just the human Clergy either. Mist liked it when he wrestled with her, winner take all. Alpha needed the occasional beatdown too and Omega was perfect for when he wanted his ankles by his ears and a fat cock pushing so far into his guts he could taste it.

Just thinking about it made a pretty pearl of cum bead up from his tip. He smears it over the ruddy head with his thumb, rolls his hips as he toys with the slit and thinks about the others.

Dew was so cute to rile up. He could get spitting mad over some teasing and all Ifrit would have to do was look down and see where all the blood went. Only made the little guy madder, but all Ifrit had to do to apologize was kiss it until it was all better and the flush on Dew’s face was from pleasure and not fury.

Been a while since they hooked up, Ifrit thinks. A little bittersweetness lies in the memories, how Dew had found himself wrapped up in a new role and a new pack while Ifrit was left behind but he doesn't hold a grudge. Just wishes they could meet up again, see if he still has a temper or he’s gotten it under control. Ifrit's seen the way that multi-ghoul needles him, nothing short of a masterpiece there. He’d love to team up with him to make Dew cry sometime and his cock throbs in agreement.

Then there's that pretty water ghoul. Rain. Ifrit's been dying to get to know him all kinds of ways. See if he gets as wet as Dew used to, before his transition. He saw the two of them earlier, before the party really got going and okay, they looked good together. Dew looked downright snappy whenever someone tried to lure Rain away and that was just adorable. Like a dragon angrily guarding the first shiny trinket of its horde.

Monogamy isn't really a thing to the ghouls. Why would it be? Still, sometimes they can get possessive over each other. Dew's definitely got the worst case of it Ifrit's ever seen over Rain. He'd curled himself tight around the water ghoul, scenting him something fierce. Ifrit could pick it up from halfway across the field. And okay, it was a little cute. New love, and all that.

He blinks. Right, that's how he came to be here pumping his dick. He got so caught up in the vision of Dew and Rain and their entangled limbs, combined with the noises of a few threesomes happening, his mind laid out a beautiful picture of himself sandwiched between the two of them. Maybe he could coach Rain on how best to rile up Dew, get his little cock as red as his face. What to say to make his brow furrow even as he huffs out a too-quick orgasm.

Speaking of…

His balls already tight, Ifrit lets himself go and sighs at the way it aches when he does. He's got better stamina but he's been here a while, whatever he drank is working its dirty little magic on him and the night is still young. Wouldn't want to wear himself out too quickly.

If he listens, he can hear Mist crying in that perfect way she does when someone's licking her cunt and someone else is doing her gills. Belial, she's cute. Maybe he just has a thing for water ghouls, but who wouldn't with all their sensitivities and tendencies to get so wet. Maybe he should get up and join them, attack her gills from the other side and really get her going, get a few fingers stuffed up her cunt, make her squirt like she always does. His hand wraps around himself again and before he knows it, he's got his tongue in Rain's gills instead, frenching him from the inside while he bounces on Ifrit's lap, claws digging into his shoulders. Feeling Rain gasp for air as he creams around Ifrit's cock, Dew’s eyes dark with fury.

“You look like you're having fun.” Comes a soft voice and Ifrit chuckles, squeezing the base of his cock.

“Just thinking about you.” He says honestly, cracking his eye to peer at Rain. He looks good tonight. Always looks good but this is the first time Ifrit's seen him in something other than his uniform, a pair of light blue shorts that skim the tops of his thighs and a sleeveless shirt with thin straps and thinner fabric. Ifrit’s eyes lazily slide up and then firmly look back down, no shame. Dew’s not here to hiss and snarl, Ifrit's going to take advantage. As much as Rain will let him.

“We’ve never been properly introduced.” Rain muses, coming closer. “I know your name though. Seen you around. Seen some footage.”

“Do you like what you see?” Ifrit asks, angling himself so Rain can get an eyeful of his body, toned muscles and cock on full display. Like before. He's not shy about his own vanity. He half expects his confidence to intimidate the quiet water ghoul but Rain…Rain laughs at him. No one's ever laughed at Ifrit before.

He doesn't know if he likes it or not.

“Dew said you were cocky.” He drops to his hands and knees, tail coiling behind him. His eyes narrow as he comes up between Ifrit's thighs and smiles with a little too much fang for comfort. “He wouldn't be happy if he knew I was with you.”

“Then why are you here anyway?” Ifrit asks bluntly, trying to regain a foothold in the strange shift that he's pretty sure just happened.

“Because sometimes it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission.” Rain tells him with a nip to his skin that sends Ifrit reeling. No way this is happening. He can still smell Dew on Rain's clothes, smoke and anger and lust. So much lust.

"Isn't Dewdrop your, uh…" Boyfriend is the first word that comes to mind but it doesn't feel right. Too human, too exclusive. Packmate would be the best option yet it still feels too casual for whatever the hell those two have going on. He and Dew were packmates and they were never so touchy-feely as he is with Rain. He vaguely remembers Dew getting a little weird about Aether when he was first summoned but it still had nothing on how he behaved now. Rain seems to humor it and continue to do his own thing when Dew's not looking but he still doesn't want to get on the little guy's bad side and ruin any possibilities.

"Dewdrop." He finishes stupidly.

Rain shrugs, a strap of his camisole falling down one shoulder with the motion.

"My Dewdrop…" he muses, tracing patterns on Ifrit's thigh. "I like the sound of that."

His fingers tickle dangerously high and Ifrit squirms against the tree.

"Well," Rain continues thoughtfully, casually wrapping his hand around the base of Ifrit's cock, hiding the sudden flare of his tattoos as he begins to stroke him slowly. "My Dewdrop said he didn't want you touching me. So don't touch me. And we'll be alright."

Ifrit feels far from alright at this moment in time, but then Rain's bowing to dab his soft tongue to the underside and he can't find it in him to argue. The first gentle lap hits him harder than a punch, the second, somehow even worse. Rain entertains himself with Ifrit's cock like he's got all the time in the world; sliding the foreskin to and fro over the ridge, mouthing at the tip and going even lower to fit both of Ifrit's balls in his mouth. Going back up and rubbing his cheek against the head to smear the beads of pre cum all across his face.

"These are pretty," he remarks, so casual as if he was admiring a garden or a display of jewelry. Ifrit doesn't even know what he's talking about at first until Rain starts tracing the outline of his tattoos with his tongue. He got them done months ago, glyphs written and designed to further pleasure a partner. Maybe one or two thrown in so no matter how he thrusts, he always hits the best spots.

"Enchanted?" He asks, looking at Ifrit with his dark eyes, pressing a kiss to the shaft. Ifrit nods stupidly, fingers curling in the grass to keep from grabbing Rain's head and pushing him down again, make that pretty mouth drool with how Ifrit would fuck it.

"Thought so." Rain says with satisfaction. "I like the way it tingles when I touch them. Must feel good to get fucked by a cock like this."

"I've had no complaints." Ifrit gasps as Rain lays his tongue flat to slap his cock against it. He's such an active participant in his past flings that it feels off-putting to just sit here and let himself be…be toyed with. He doesn't even think Rain's blinked once since settling between his thighs and it's unnerving.

"When Dew calms down a bit," Rain starts, moving Ifrit's cock this way and that to admire all of his tattoos as they glow. "With this whole possessive thing. Maybe I'll ride it."

"Fuh-" Ifrit hisses as a large blurt of precum oozes out of his slit. Rain drinks it down then goes even further, opening his jaw for Ifrit to easily slide in without grazing any fangs. "Fucking, oh, oh that's good."

He's so pent up from touching himself earlier, thinking he wouldn't have to worry about stamina. Now he's got Rain making the sweetest, choked noises as he fucks his face on Ifrit's dick, nice and sloppy, getting his saliva all over Ifrit's balls while he gags on it. Ifrit's tearing up handfuls of grass as Rain brutalizes his own throat, moaning and trying to stifle his moans at the same time, lest Dewdrop catch them in the act and get royally pissed off.

Rain would probably just kiss him with a mouth of Ifrit's cum, his brain offers up and it's over.

He cums with a pained noise, faster than he'd like to but again he’d been working himself up decently beforehand and if he knew Rain was going to go to town on him, he would have saved his stamina. He tries to warn Rain with a stuttered exclamation as his body locks up. Rain just pulls away to tug at his cock and Ifrit starts praying Rain will put it back in his mouth and swallow but he keeps pumping his hand at first. Aims so the first spray lands thick over his eyelashes, the second glossing his full lips, smearing the head around before kissing it and pushing down to take Ifrit in, letting him finish directly down his tight throat.

“Fuck!” Ifrit shouts, hitting his head on the tree when he throws it back, trying to fuck Rain's mouth for the last few flexes of his cock. Rain keeps still, lets his jaw hang open as Ifrit pushes his cum back in as it drools out, relishing the slide of Rain’s tongue on his skin even as he slips into oversensitivity and the friction is too much. Rain lets him go with a final kiss and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he sits up tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. Ifrit's cum is dabbed off Rain’s eyelashes with his ring finger, also licked clean. There's something almost feline about him as he does it, looking so beautiful in the fractured moonlight coming down from between the branches.

"Can I," Ifrit starts. "Do you…anything?" He sounds stupid to himself and can't even imagine what he sounds like to Rain, staring down at him with a passive, unreadable expression.

"I already got mine." He says carelessly, flopping back and spreading his thighs to show off the wet fabric of his tight little shorts clinging to his cunt. Ifrit swallows thickly, eyes riveted on the way he drags his fingers softly over it. He can see the way they bump over the shape of his swollen clit and Ifrit moans right along with Rain when he rubs the tip of it.

"Swiss and Aether." He tells Ifrit, a subtle lift at the corners of his mouth. He raises a leg and uses the motion to flip himself over, lifting his tail to reveal another damp spot just underneath that's slowly drooled out enough cum to combine with the first one.

"Mountain."

Ifrit practically convulses with the longing stab of arousal the sight gives him, wheezing as Rain wiggles his shorts down to give him a better look at his well-used holes, swaying his hips and letting them gape for the briefest of moments, before shimmying his clothes back on and doing something elegant and twisted that results in him standing up, hand on his hip. Looking down at Ifrit with an amused little smile.

“Dew always forgives me if I confess everything. Helps to give him a demonstration too…So he knows what he missed out on.” It's said in such a blaisè tone for all the heavy implications in the words, Ifrit can't quite believe what he just heard. Just stares open mouthed at Rain with his soft cock wilting against his thigh and his ears ringing. Rain covers his laugh and leans close. Lets Ifrit get a nice view of his tits down his top as he takes two fingers, the two he'd touched himself with, and pets Ifrit's tongue. Before he knows what he's doing, he closes his lips around them and sucks, shivering at the faint taste of salt and sex.

“You're cute.” Rain says. “I hope I get to play with you again.”

He tries to say something but what exactly he wants to say he doesn't know. It just comes out as a stupid little uh-huh around Rain’s fingers as he withdraws them. He chases them but then Rain’s giving him a little head shake, wiping them on Ifrit's cheek and he falls back, defeated and stunned. Rain giving him that mischievous little smile the whole time.

“See you ‘round.” He says, tapping those same two fingers against his eyebrows, giving Ifrit a lazy salute. The fingers go from his temple to his mouth, where Rain spreads them and licks lasciviously in between with a wicked little wink before turning and walking off, leaving Ifrit to stare at the way his hips swing in well fucked and insouciant little half circles. How he's not limping is beyond anyone's guess.

“Damn…” he wheezes, head hitting the trunk. “Just… damn.”

What a night.

#Ifrit x rain #rain x dewdrop #ifrit x rain x dewdrop #nsft #cw cucking #damn i actually finished it really quick. that means there's something wrong with it.

[shigarakis-cumdump]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a wholesome Shigaraki headcannon.

I wanna know how he tells y/n his feelings for them, and the journey of how he developed them. I think it's such a cute idea, and I would love to read your input on it!

(If you like what you read, consider supporting me on Ao3!)

Title: A Villain's Origin of Love

Summary: A short hc of how Shigaraki came to fall in love with you. He was never good with words, and a crush didn't help.

Cw: none

Word Count: 1k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

When you first joined the Liberation, Shigaraki hated you. He figured you were just another fan that would leave the second things became serious, just like they all did. He would observe you from a distance, never even introducing himself to you since he figured it was a waste of time. When you stuck around after a few months, you were already well acquainted with everyone, except for him. 

The other members would rave about you, telling him funny things you did and how thoughtful you were of the other members. He knew this, or course; having watched you for the better part of 3 months helped him understand just who you were. 

His skepticism started to fade when he saw you helping Toga after a battle. Usually, everyone would patch themselves up, but you jumped in to help her and other members before even helping yourself. He admired your selflessness. Another time, he watched you from behind the door as you were blissfully humming while you patched up Touya’s clothes he had destroyed a day prior. Shigaraki felt something when he saw you in these quiet moments, and he didn’t like the feeling. He felt warm on the inside, something he had never felt before. Surely he was distancing himself enough, so why was he feeling this? Was it some type of quirk you had and didn’t mention? 

“Um, Shigaraki sir?” He was taken out of his thoughts by the sound of your voice echoing from the room. When he looked up, he saw you staring at him, a slight smile on your face.

“What are you doing?” He asked, opening the door and stepping towards you.

“Oh, just repairing Dabi’s jacket. Did you need something repaired as well? Or need me for a mission?” You asked.

“N-No, just don’t fuck it up, I don’t want another singed member walking around.” He replied as he quickly left. Shigaraki got back to his room and cursed himself for not taking you up on your offer. He wanted to talk to you, but he was nervous. The leader of the biggest villain organization was nervous to talk to a girl of all things. Not having a reason to talk to you, he looked around his room for something, anything, he could give you to fix, just so he could stay in the room and watch you, at the very least. 

After not finding anything, he takes his coat off and rips it apart in several places. Heading back to your room, he hears you talking with someone on the other side of the door. He lost his chance to get you alone to talk to you. He leaves his coat outside your door and decides to take a walk around the base. 

It’s been hours and instead of thinking of battle plans, all that fills his mind are thoughts of you. He remembers the day you tried talking to him when you first joined and he ignored you, mentally beating himself up over it. He got to know how kind you were, and as selfish as it was, wanted some of that for himself. He found you pretty too, not that his ego would let him admit that. He started to imagine a life where it was just you and him, living normally amongst society, no villainy, just- 

“Shigaraki!” 

The sound of your voice made him come to a standstill. Turning around, he saw you running up to him with his coat. 

“I finished patching up your coat for you! I saw you left it outside my door,” you tell him. 

“Thanks,” he says, hesitant to take it back, scared the conversation might end. “What are you doing right now?”

“Well I just finished with your coat, so nothing, I suppose. Why, did you need something?”

“You’ve been here for a while and I never got the chance to talk to you.”

You smile and start to walk alongside him, “Talk to me about what?”

He sighs, taking his coat, “I don’t know,” he pauses, “just, about you, I guess.” He clears his throat, only being able to stare at the ground. 

The two of you talk for hours, walking all around the base as you lose track of time. He got to know more about you, your life before the Liberation, and why you decided to join. It was safe to say he was falling for you, but there was no way he was going to tell you that. Not now, at least. 

After that, the two of you became friends, and you would help him with things. In return, you would find little gifts scattered around the base with a poorly written note saying, “for Y/N, from Tomura.” You would always thank him the next time you saw him, and you noticed the way he would look at you with love in his eyes, the shy mannerisms he would display when around you, and you thought it was cute. But lord knows you could never ask the leader of a villain organization to be with you, it was out of line. 

Thankfully, Shigaraki was already a step ahead of you. He told you to meet him in his office one night with no other details. Usually, he would talk to you when he saw you, but the whole day he had been ignoring you and avoiding you like the plague. Your mind was filled with anxiety, nervous he would say you did something wrong and exile you out of the Liberation. However, when you knocked on his door that night, he opened it and you saw a teddy bear and heart shaped necklace with an engraved “T” on it in his hands. 

“Y/N,” he starts, trying his best to maintain eye contact as his face beamed bright red, “you know I’m not good with words, but.. Do you want to be with me? Be my girlfriend?” 

You chuckle at his confession, your face now matching the shade of his. “Yes, Tomura, I thought you would never ask.”

#sfw #shigaraki hc #shigaraki #shigaraki drabble #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigarakiscumdumpwrites #shigarakiscumdumpasks #shigarakiscumdumpanswers

[drdemonprince]

I'd really like to enjoy sex parties (I know many autistic people do), but the few that I've attended have been really loud (mostly from music) and overstimulating even with hearing protection. As a horny person who has trouble with loud noise, I feel like I'm SOL. I'd like to put on a sensory-friendly sex party (sry, no better word), but have no idea where to start. How could I go about this?

This is a great idea! I'd really hit the local Fetlife groups and local Munches for the next couple of months, chatting people up and gauging interest. Since you've been invited to sex parties before, that suggests you're already fairly well plugged into the community or know how to become plugged in in the area where you currently are, so do a bit of that for a while, and if it's a big enough scene, ask if people might be interested in a neurodivergent-friendly munch or meetup first. Maybe outside in a quiet natural area or at a really low-key cafe that's affordable and not crowded and where using stim toys or knitting/playing board games/etc is all normal to see.

Getting people to turn out to a sex party and be a good time definitely requires a little bit of social lubricating for a while first, if only so that you know who you want to invite and who sucks and might make people uncomfortable.

Check out local queer spaces too -- here there's a sober cafe that holds lots of evening events for LGBTQ people who don't drink, and that tends to attract a lot of neurodivergent folks and sensory sensitive people as well. Some of them might be way to vanilla for a sex party but there's always a few genuine phreaks out there. Events and groups at a local LGBTQ center or the like can also work, or just other recurring community spaces that attract a lot of queer people. Local Meetup.com groups for Adult Autistics would be a good place to look around, too.

Once you've gotten the chance to suss out who might be cool within a variety of little pockets of your local communities, then you're ready to organize it and make the ask! I think a good sex party can't be too open-invite, especially when you want to control the experience from an accessibility perspective. But by the time you are inviting someone in this case, you've met them probably multiple times, know one another on social media (or at least Fet), and know that they're neurodivergent or into the idea of a sensory-friendly sex party, and so you'll have a good idea that they're a good fit.

I'm sure you've already envisioned how you want this party to go -- low lights, quiet down rooms, soft music, etc. I'd also consider having some kind of wristband system that allows people to communicate how they want to be engaged with -- green meaning go ahead and come up to me and inititiate/touch me, yellow meaning ask first for anything, red meaning leave me alone i'm just here to watch for now, or whatever. Probably make people put stickers on their cameras. Etc.

Good luck out there and let me know how it goes! I promise this isn't that huge of an undertaking. I know I probably made it sound like a lot, but it's really just popping up at a variety of events for a little bit and trying to find the Autistic weirdos and friend them.

[iridescentpull]

Pac’s pissed off.

Scratch that– he’s more than pissed. He’s angry, grieving, desperate, heartbroken... there is no word in the English or Portuguese language to explain what he’s feeling. He can feel the emotions swirling inside his chest, his stomach, and his throat; threatening to pour out of him at an alarming rate. He’s upset at the world, hateful of the fact that it’s continuing to turn while his life is falling apart.

Today was supposed to be good, it was supposed to be the best day of his entire goddamn life. He was supposed to be fucking married, in his new home with his new husband. He was supposed to finally accomplish the goal the Vault has placed on him since he was a child.

He was supposed to finally feel worth something, to be happy.

Instead, he’s here, in the ruins of the bunker he has called his home his whole life, surrounded by blood and corpses and screams, while his best friend is being taken somewhere and there's a raider locked in his room.

///

Or, a fitpac Fallout AU. I caved in to the voices in my head lmao enjoy <333

tag list : @routeriver jaime oiii <33

#fitpac #qsmp fanfiction #pactw #fitmc #aynee writes #FiyH AU

[mapledkanata]

Overdue Skwisgaar sketches + design notes/hcs! Finally got around to redrawing my fave

+ Skwisgaar has joined the dance floor..... I do think there has been some missed potential for Skwis, Toki and Pickles collective dynamics/interactions. More Skwis and Pickles bein buddies pleas..,,,,.

Some extra Skwis notes and Skwis HCs below the cut for anyone who may be interested:

Design notes!

Slightly darker blue eyes; captures light easily when he's happy!

For eye shapes I thought about Mads Mikkelsen and Magnús Scheving as references! They both have particular facial structures I also thought about in drawing Skwis

Because of his stronger features and pallor, sometimes shadow falls harshly along his features. I find I have to be very careful when rendering his colours and keep his softness

In terms of shape language, Skwisgaar is definitely more like unconventional rectangles than he is triangles!

Decided to give the front peaks of his hair a little more volume

Rather large in proportion but his lean stature makes him unassuming standing alone

HCs!

6'4"-6'5" tall me thinks!

Autistic

He definitely maintains himself and his appearance, but doesn't really have an extensive routine.

Might comb his hair a bit at the front, showers often, is dressed in the morning etc

He also likes to keep his room organized in a particular way; along with his room reflecting a Swedish Modernist style it's incredibly minimalist!

Despite his aloofness, he can be very attentive to the ones he cares for; in other words he's definitely paying attention even when he doesn't seem like he is

He often seen staring past the wall when he's in his own head

He is so borzoi dog.......... often gives intense whale eye to people..

He is a bit of a goober but no one understands his humour 😔

I definitely think he articulates himself better speaking Swedish and has a lot of depth to offer; conversely, he struggles w/ verbally articulating his thoughts and can be generally awkward in a lot of circumstances outside of his reign of interests

Is actually a very grounded individual in terms of his outlook on life, while he often responds very dramatically, emotionally or intensely to certain things (he is so silly!)

So very desperately wants to feel seen and loved for who he is

#metalocalypse fanart #metalocalypse #mtl #mtl fanart #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #pickles the drummer #skwisgaar fanart #skwisgaar headcanons #mtl headcanons