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bxyp · 1 month

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GENERAL RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS / Jujutsu Kaisen | 呪術廻戦

SYNOPSIS. General descriptions of the characters if they were in a relationship.

「 SFW + NSFW 」 separated for two parts.

SFW > safe for work; does not contain any sexual content and/or violence.

NSFW > not safe for work; contain sexual content and/or violence.

WARNING/S. GENDER NEUTRAL READER. violence, death (mention), sex, blowjob, oral sex, oral giving (reader), exhibitionism (technically), mutual masturbation, male organs mentioned (cock, dick and etc.).

CHARACTER/S. > Itadori Yuji, Maki Zen'in, Ryomen Sukuna, Toji Fushiguro, Uraume.

W.C. > 1.4k

𝙁𝙀𝙈 𝘿𝙉𝙄 & 𝙈𝘿𝙉𝙄 | 𝘽𝙀 𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙀𝙁𝙐𝙇 18+ 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙐𝙏

Itadori Yuji | 虎杖悠仁

「 SFW 」 PRE SHIBUYA ARC | Yuji would undoubtedly rank among the epitomes of an ideal boyfriend. Cute, cheerful and optimistic—a perfect boyfriend. With his extroverted nature, you will have to deal with his bursts of energy as well as times when he will be particularly affectionate. Picture him as the embodiment of a loyal golden retriever—a true 'puppy boyfriend' in every sense. While Yuji's extroverted tendencies may manifest in bursts of lively enthusiasm, he also possesses moments of profound tenderness, enveloping his partner in warmth and affection. He gracefully inspires his partner to emerge from their cocoon, gently coaxing them towards a world of shared joy and adventures.

POST SHIBUYA ARC | Yuji carries the weight of profound loss, having witnessed the death of numerous friends. Scarred by these harrowing experiences, his instinctive reaction is to protect those he cares about. Consequently, he may inadvertently resort to pushing away those closest to him—a misguided attempt rooted in love and a genuine desire to protect. So you would need some time to reasure him that you aren't leaving any time soon…

Maki Zen'in | 禪院真希

「 SFW 」 PRE SHIBUYA ARC | Maki personifies resilience, bearing the burden of her own burdens and shouldering everything with unwavering strength. Yet beneath her reserved façade lies a heart that beats with deep care, though she may be hesitant to admit it openly. For your sake, Maki tries to break down the barriers she has carefully erected, which is a testament to the depth of her affection. Gently showing vulnerability. Every crack in her steely resolve serves as a testament to the strength of her affection, a silent plea for understanding and from you acceptance.

DURING CULLING GAME ARC | Maki finds herself haunted by the tragic loss of her twin sister, a wound that cuts deep into her heart and soul. Determined to shield herself from further heartache, Maki naturally avoids getting too close to people emotionally. She puts up strong walls around herself, using them like a shield to stop herself from the sorrowful of potential loss. She is trying to push you away, fearing that the death may once again claim the person she holds most dear.

Ryomen Sukuna | 両面宿儺

「 SFW 」 PRE CULLING GAME ARC | Beware of the King of Curses, because kindness is generally rare in his heart. Sukuna, with his menacing appearance and chilling aura, is not one to easily succumb to the tender embrace of romance. In his world, love is a foreign concept, a concept he has never shared or felt the need to develop. If Sukuna feels attracted to you in a way that is beyond his understanding, don't expect his true emotions to be revealed quickly. Love, with all its complexities and vulnerabilities, is uncharted territory for him. He is a mystery, shrouded in frost, his heart covered in layers of impenetrable ice. Patience becomes your greatest ally in unraveling the enigma that is Sukuna. With each step forward, you tread cautiously, mindful of the thorns that line the path to his heart.

DURING CULLING GAME ARC | Even if Sukuna is wary of his newfound emotions, don't expect him to give you special treatment just because you've captured his interest. Sukuna is not sentimental and does not provide frivolous favors. He demands proof of your worth, demanding that you demonstrate your character and earn his respect through your actions. His admiration is a hard-won treasure bestowed upon those who prove themselves capable of navigating the treacherous.

「 NSFW 」 THE HEIAN ERA | Sukuna is definitely not an easy lover. He will squeeze the maximum out of you. Using your body, sometimes even without your consent, because in his understanding, at the moment when you gave him your heart, you also gave him your whole body, letting him do any indecency. He is not a pervert and prefer to do things the old and simple way. Although sometimes he asks Uraume to stretch you, since Sukuna’s cocks are also bigger than usual, so careful preparation is required so that you are not simply torn in a halves. There is hardly any tenderness in this process. Most often, this is just an impulse in which he can fulfill exclusively his desires, literally grinding into you until he himself is satisfied. So expect long nights since he got stamina and a lot of stress to take out (on you).

(yes, I'm a believer that Sukuna got two dicks, don't blame me for that.)

Toji Fushiguro | 伏黒甚爾

「 SFW 」 DURING HIDDEN INVENTORY ARC | Toji is plagued by deep-seated commitment issues, a restless wanderer who flits from one fleeting romance to another with reckless abandon. His primary focus lies in material gain, money, with little regard for the emotional entanglements that accompany lasting relationships. For him, love is but a passing fancy. However, amidst his nomadic lifestyle, there exists a rare exception—a woman (Megumi's mother) who once managed to capture his fleeting attention. Though elusive, the memory of her lingers in the recesses of his mind, a testament to the possibility of a deeper connection.

DURING HIDDEN INVENTORY ARC | It's going to take a lot of time and thinking for him to figure out his feelings and realize that he wants things that aren't just about money or quick fun. He needs to face his fears and doubts, and think about the idea that maybe, just maybe, life is about more than just work as a mercenary or have fun for a short time.

「 NSFW 」 DURING HIDDEN INVENTORY ARC | Toji is a selfish lover, always putting his own desires first when it comes to being close with someone. He's used to getting what he wants whenever he wants it, and he doesn't feel bad about going after what feels good. His needs come first because he's spent his life focused on pleasing himself and getting things right away. Underneath that self-centered exterior, there's a lot going on. Even though he's all about his own pleasure, he's got a way of being gentle yet strong when he's with someone intimately. His touch leaves a lasting impression on the person he's with. He can gently stroke your hair while your lips are at the base of his dick. If you have difficulty breathing, maybe stop and not fist your hair in his hand, using your throat for his pleasure, while you drolling all over his cock…

Uraume | 裏梅

「 SFW 」 PRE CULLING GAME ARC | Uraume is an embodiment of unwavering loyalty, their existence intricately intertwined with the service and devotion to their master, a bond forged over countless centuries. For them, love was a foreign concept, relegated to the annals of distant memory as they dutifully fulfilled their role. When feelings of attraction begin to stir within Uraume, they find themselves grappling with emotions long dormant, their heart encased in the frost of ages past. The idea of love is a foreign and unfamiliar terrain.

DURING CULLING GAME ARC | As Uraume's feelings blossom into an undeniable force, they find themselves faced with a daunting decision—to confront their master and seek permission to pursue the depths of their newfound love. This is no small feat, for their allegiance to their master is unwavering, and the prospect of disobeying even a perceived slight is unthinkable. In their plea, Uraume makes it clear that they hold their master's wishes above all else, and they would never dare to act in defiance of their authority. Yet, they cannot deny the overwhelming pull of their emotions, and they humbly request the opportunity to pursue love while remaining ever faithful to their master's will.

「 NSFW 」 DURING CULLING GAME ARC | Urauma's devotion does not end with their master's permission to love. They would definitely ask permission to have a more personal relationship with you. Also, if the King of Curses told Urauma to give your body to him for pleasure, Urauma would take it as an incredible compliment since even their master liked your body. But besides this, Uraume isn't so cold in terms of sex life; they pay more attention to your pleasure than to their own. Usually your sexual contact involves mutual masturbation, for Uraume this is quite personal. Since for them, their body is like a temple and letting another person in is quite difficult for them.. Their movements are careful but quite demanding, not devoid of feelings.

MAIN MASTERLIST | AO3 | TWITTER

𝔇𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔢𝔴 𝔰𝔱𝔶𝔩𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔶 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔨 𝔬𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯?

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himegureisu · 1 month

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Time

Summary: Your love language is quality time. However, your husband is the King of Mirkwood.

A/N: I was supposed to write a Mycroft Holmes/Female Reader. However, this idea popped up and went brr in my head and then my fingers. I needed to finish it before it went so here it goes my first for this pairing I hope you enjoy! (And good night for me because it’s 4AM also not proofread)

Pairing: Thranduil x Female Elf Reader

——————————— 🍃 ———————————

“What was it, meleth nín?” Thranduil asked, “I apologize our time is to be cut short again,”

It was the nth time someone interrupted your strolls to whisk him away for a matter of utmost significance and to be honest, you were tired of it.

Trying so desperately to take time between the day to see him. To get a moment of his time.

He was a King.

A title that holds responsibilities he could not neglect. You know that. However, you didn’t expect to be pushed aside.

“It’s nothing,” you fake a smile, “You should go they need you,”

But I need you too.

You didn’t try after that.

Your handmaiden noticed your melancholy days after the incident. It was like he didn’t notice you were gone.

Yes, you did eat together most of the time. However, you didn’t pop by his office during your free time. You didn’t leave snacks anymore for him to munch on when he forgets to eat. You didn’t propose to walk so you could both stretch your legs. You didn’t wait for him to go to bed.

Contrary to your belief, your husband did notice your absence.

His days were often tedious and tiring. Your short visits were always something he looked forward to. The bright spot to his days so when palace staff gossip came through his ears…

“The Queen seems pale. Is she ill?” a soft feminine voice asked in concern,

“Oh, why would she be ill?” a different voice, an ellon this time, “Maybe she’s expecting a child!”

“She could be ill because of the child.” the elleth remarks, as another joins in the conversation,

“The Queen is not expecting I would know.”your handmaiden divulged as much, No, she seems dejected.”

“The King has been busy…”

Her words echoed in his mind because it was true. His thoughts wandered to those moments your times were constantly interrupted and the day you last visited.

Oh.

“Where is the Queen?” he asks your handmaiden, who exited the study, a book on hand for you.

“At the gardens, My Lord,” she simply answered.

“That’s for her?” he gestured to the book, she nods meekly, “I’ll take it to her. Go tend to your other duties,”

Your handmaiden scurries off in fear and intimidation to go prepare your clothes for the evening. On the other hand, your husband quickly makes his way to the gardens where he couldn’t see you.

“By Valar,” he mumbles frustratedly, walking through the foliage, “Where are you?”

Your soft sniffles give you away.

Between two trees, there was a hammock tied on to their sturdy barks. On the hammock, beneath a thick blanket, you hug his pillow as your tears fell down your cheeks.

From outside your cocoon, the grass crackle as slow footsteps approach your hideout.

Your book finally.

“Did you find that book I asked for?”

“I did,”

A different voice answered. One you haven’t heard from in what seemed like days. His voice.

“Meleth nín,” he breathed out, “Please do not hide from me,”

“I’m hardly presentable,” you sniffed, wiping your tears away, as the hammock tilts a bit on one side, “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting of sorts?”

“No,” he frowns, sitting on the edge of the fabric, the book left on by his side, “I don’t care if you’re presentable or not. I’m not the kingdom,”

Slowly, you emerge from your shell to be greeted by his silver eyes, dull in color much like your own has been these past couple of weeks.

“Oh, meleth,”

There were dark shadows beneath your eyes. Your cheeks were stained with dry tears and nose flush from mucus buildup. His heart twisted beneath his chest at the sight of you.

What has he done?

“Oh, meleth nín,” he said, taking you in his arms for a warm embrace you missed, “I’m sorry. I am a fool,”

He hated being the cause of your tears.

“You were,” your voice cracked, as you tuck yourself beneath his chin savoring his presence, “I missed you so much,”

“I missed you too,” he kisses your forehead, and pulls you closer, “I’m sorry that I didn’t reach out, didn’t make the time, made you cry, made you feel like this…”

Your tears fall once again down your cheeks to his robes. He noticed. He noticed your absence after all.

“You are my starlight, my reason to go on,” he softly declared, “I promise I’ll try to do better,”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I needed” you quietly admit, “I thought I’d be bother you already do so much,”

“You are never a bother,” he adamantly says, glancing down to see you also looking at him, “You are always welcome to whisk me away from the duties of court. I’d rather you than them.”

“Their needs are much more important than mine,” you say.

“But your needs are the most important to me,” his words caused your heart to flutter in the most endearing ways. “You are the most important to me. You do not need to vie for my time or attention. You will always have it. Though, I may not notice it at times you should not hesitate to tell me.”

“If so, can we just stay like this?” you breathed out tiredly against his chest, your ear to his heart beating soundly beneath, “I just… need you,”

“We can,” he gently kisses your forehead, as your eyelids droop down, “It would be a pleasure,”

“Thranduil,” you softly whisper, as he places his forgotten pillow beneath your heads, “Gi melin,”

“Gi melin, meleth nín,” his fingers tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear as you settled on his chest, “Sleep. I will be here when you wake,”

It wasn’t long until you did.

Your breaths soft and even as Thranduil gently places the book on the ground so neither of you gets stabbed by its’ edges. He pulls you the closest he could, you unconsciously grasp tight.

Just the way you both liked it.

He lays there quietly observing the heavens, where scattered white clouds and birds of the realm adorned the blue skies, wondering how he was so lucky to have fallen for a second time to you.

He didn’t know what time it was and frankly, he didn’t care when his eyes slowly surrendered to the thrall of slumber joining you in blissful rest for the afternoon.

He would do better. He was going to do better. For you.

#fanfiction #thranduil x reader #thranduil #thranduil x you #thranduil oropherion #lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #thranduil fanfiction #lord of the rings fanfiction #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit #lord of the rings

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mountainsandmayhem · 22 days

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hey hun!! for your 500 followers celebration could you do 📝, of a scenario in which joel comes home to find you all cramped up and in pain since you began your period and he decides to be the comforting little man and cuddles you to death??

(no pressure!! 🥰🤗)

-vii💗💗

Joel: Period Master

18+, but mostly fluff

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

AN: Thank you sweet Viv for this ask. This is based in the Little Dove universe, but Sarah and Ellie are teenagers and living at home. 💋 also, I 100% did not edit or proof read this. Sorry!

Joel has had a long ass day. A joke of a day really. First the concrete was late, then someone broke the powered wheelbarrow so they were moving gravel by hand. Then it started raining and they scrambled to cover everything, the job site soon became a muddy mess. He’s desperately looking forward to a hot shower and a glass of whiskey.

He pulls into the garage to see your vehicle already parked, which is strange since you had plans with a friend for after work drinks.

He trudges from the truck to the back door, mud still breaking off his work boots along the shiny concrete floor of the garage. He toes them off before heading into the back entry. Your heels are tossed on the floor, work bag and jacket haphazardly placed on the bench.

“Babe?” He calls from the back door, walking around to the family room to find his two daughters curled up on the couches.

“Hi girls. Where’s your mom?”

They both shoot daggers from their eyes, Ellie clutching the blanket tighter around herself and Sarah flipping the ice pack that’s draped across the back of her neck.

Shit, already that time.

The joys of living with all women….they’ve synced up. His usually sweet teenagers daughters turn extra moody, but Joel is the supporter of this family in every way, so he is always prepared for this time each month. Sarah, usually the sweet tooth, needs salt and chocolate milk. Ellie, usually the salty one, needs Diet Coke and green gummy frogs. All things Joel keeps tucked up in a cupboard, or in the back of the beer fridge in the garage.

He sneaks quietly back into the living room, putting the emergency supplies for the girls down on the coffee table as they watch Dirty Dancing.

Ellie looks up at him with sad eyes, tears welling in the corners. “Thanks, dad.”

He crouches down beside her and rubs her lower back through the big fuzzy blanket she’s cocooned in. “You’re welcome, kiddo. Do you need anything else?”

Sarah’s head pops up from her couch, “Mom’s not doing well. You should go be with her.”

He kisses both his daughters on the foreheads, taking a big breath before walking down the hall to your bedroom. Nothing in this world breaks his heart more than seeing you in pain. He knows some months can be worse than others, he knows about the bloating and the large clots you deal with. He knows that you can be insatiably hungry one minute and throwing up the next. He knows that your cramps can have you on the floor in the matter of seconds most of the time.

He opens the door as quietly as possible, finding you curled in a tight ball under the down filled duvet, just your hair peaking out the top. The room is stifling hot, the air almost thick, it feels like being in Phoenix in July as he pads over to the bed.

“Baby?” He whispers, carefully climbing up beside you, trying not to disturb you. A lesson he learned a few years ago when you had finally gotten comfortable, only to be brought to big crocodile tears when he moved a pillow that was tucked against your back.

A sad groaning whine leaves your throat as his large palm dips under the blanket to cup your forehead. “Sweetie, you’re burning up.”

“I’m freezing,” you whine, pulling the big blanket tighter around you.

“Ok, baby girl. I’m here now,” he says, standing and stripping down to his boxers briefs. You peek your eyes over the blanket, watching the way his strong body flexes and relaxes, the muscles ripping as he moves. The summer sun has tanned his arms a beautiful golden brown.

He wanders around to lay behind you. “Let me in, honey.”

You let go of the blanket so he can slip under, his warmth immediately sinking into you, heating your sore and achy body all the way to the bone. “You’re practically naked under here, Little Dove.”

You sink back into his heat. “Don’t look, I’m wearing the worst granny panties and one of those super pads.”

His hands trail around your slides, a large palm resting on the very bottom of your belly where the cramps are, hand sliding under the band of your incredibly unattractive panties. “You’re sexy to me no matter what you wear.”

Joel begins kneading the muscles of your lower abdomen, simulating the contracting of your uterus and the pain begins to ease. You moan and relax more into your perfect man.

“That feel good?” He says in a deep, gravel filled whisper.

“Mm-hmmm,” you hum, closing your eyes and finally feeling relief from the debilitating cramps.

Joel pulls you in tighter and kisses your shoulder. “I’m sorry you’re suffering, baby. I’m going to take care of you. Anything you need, I’ll do it or get it.”

“DAAAAAAD!!” Sarah and Ellie call in unison from the couch. “PIZZAAAA!!!”

You snort a little laugh. Poor Joel, having to deal with all these uterus’s.

“Pizza party?” You ask.

“Anything for my girls.” He hums, stubble grazing the shell of your ear.

“Anything?” You say mischievously.

“You’re not painting my toe nails again”

“Damn. I have this new hot pink that I think would really suit you,” you tease.

Joel’s quiet for a moment, still kneading the muscles absentmindedly, but with incredible care and precision. “I’ll lend you my favourite sweats and t shirt if you stay away from my toes.”

“Deal,” you say with a wince.

“What’s wrong?” Joel says, pulling you onto your back so he can look you over. Concern etching his eyebrows.

You reach up and rub the creases spot with your thumb, his eyes meeting yours. “Butt hole cramp,” you say flatly.

Joel smirks down at you, at this angle your swollen, heavy breasts are on display for him. “Want me to kiss it better?”

“You’re a menace, Joel Miller. And our daughters will riot if we don’t get them pizza soon.”

Joel lends you his clothes and helps you get dressed before sliding on his jeans and t shirt. He kisses your forehead and helps you to the lazy boy chair, brining your king sized duvet with him to wrap you up.

“I’ll be back with pizza,” he says to the group.

As soon as he’s out of ear shot Ellie pipes up, “do you think if we play this up we can get him to let us paint his toe nails again?”

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #soft!joel miller #joel miller fluff #nikki answers

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angelbaby-fics · 7 months

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I saw that u write for Daddy stucky x little x little Peter and it's si adorable 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Maybeeeee 🐝

Daddy stucky x little reader x little Peter where the reader is in babyspace like daipers and all the time sleepy and she just want to be in daddies arms but they need to go to the avenger tower and have a Meeting and another cg babysit the little one's but the baby reader dont understand why daddies aren’t there and just cries and petie try to comfort her and when daddies are back and daddy bucky picks her up she immediately stops crying and falls asleep and more fluff u can choose how petie would try to comfort her (he is like 6 or 7 in headspace)

Proud Of You

Word Count: 1.4k

Pairing: CG!Stucky x Little!Reader x Little!Peter (fem terms used for reader)

A/N: hello lovely anon! my requests are actually closed but………… i really liked this idea 😮 sooo i wrote it anyways!! i really really love big brother peter 🥺 and i tried to make this as fluffy as can be! enjoy 💕

It was the dreamiest afternoon, a heavy blanket of clouds pushing away the last sunrays of summer as autumn made itself known. As you napped in your crib, Peter and Bucky were enjoying a movie on tv, curled up on the big couch in the living room. Steve had left on an errand to the grocery store, suddenly inspired by the overcast weather to cook a cozy meal for his family. A scented candle on the shelf in the corner filled the room with warmth, and Bucky took deep breaths as he stroked Peter’s hair, filing away this perfect moment in his mind to look back on whenever he needed to remember just how safe his life was now. He tried to ignore the phone buzzing in his pocket, silently cursing whoever was trying to disturb his heaven, but when the notifications continued to flood in, he reluctantly answered the call.

Peter sat up as Bucky maneuvered to retrieve his phone, the sudden movement of his favorite pillow pulling the kiddo from the brink of an unplanned nap. Peter looked up at his Baba as he answered the phone, furrowing his brows as Bucky sighed. On the other end, Steve lightly chided his husband for not answering sooner, before letting him know that he was currently stranded at the store, the family car unresponsive in the parking lot. Bucky reassured Steve that he’d be right there, running a tired hand over his face as he hung up the phone and picked up the baby monitor that showed your nursery. The video showed you still fast asleep in your crib, pacifier half fallen out of your mouth. Mentally calculating the time it would take to reach the store and back, Bucky decided it wasn’t worth disturbing your nap for an errand that would hopefully be over before you even woke up to notice he was gone.

“What’s wrong, Baba?” Peter spoke up. There was anxiety in his voice, but not very much; he could tell it must not be an emergency if Bucky was so calm.

“Daddy’s car broke and I have to go pick him up from the store.” Bucky tried not to sound too annoyed.

“Can I come?” Peter asked eagerly, but Bucky shook his head.

“Not this time, pumpkin. I need you to be a big boy and take care of the house while I’m gone. Don’t answer the door for anyone and try not to wake up your sister, okay baby?”

Peter nodded enthusiastically, thrilled to be assigned a mission - even if that mission was just to stay put on the couch and not get into trouble.

With a kiss to the top of the spider boy’s head, Bucky was out the door, wanting more than anything to get this done as quickly as possible. Peter stared at the door for what felt like ages after it had closed behind his Baba, counting down the minutes until his return. And then he heard your cry from the baby monitor speaker.

Your precious slumber was interrupted, your peaceful dreams morphing into a heart stopping nightmare, almost as if you could sense your Baba’s absence and your Daddy’s distress. Tossing and turning, you ripped your way out of the cocoon of sleep, letting out a choked sob as you desperately tried to rejoin the waking world. You opened your eyes into the darkness, anxiously staring at your nursery door, almost mentally willing it to burst open and your daddies to come rushing in. But when the door finally did open, it was tentative, and the figure you saw illuminated by the hall light was not who you expected.

Peter rushed towards you as soon as he saw your desperate face. He reached through the bars of your crib to hold your hand as he reassured you were safe, big brother was here and he wasn’t gonna let anything hurt you. But it was no use, you just kept thrashing and crying out.

“Daddy! Baba!!” You wailed, needing more than anything just to be wrapped in their big strong arms, protected from anything and everything that could come your way.

Peter crouched down so his face was level with yours, wanting more than anything just to comfort you.

“Daddies aren’t here right now, but it’s okay, I got you!” Peter reassured you, and although you stopped fighting and let your body calm down, your tears still didn’t stop.

“Baba…” You sobbed, your chest heaving up and down with nervous breaths.

“Can I get you out of your crib?” Peter asked, his hand already on the latch.

You nodded and Peter let down the bars of the crib, helping you down onto the carpeted floor. He held your hand all the way as he led you back to the living room, his protective heart breaking as he heard you sob behind him. He brought you to the couch and helped you onto it, making sure you were comfy and stable, knowing you were particularly small at the moment. Peter wrapped you in a plush throw blanket and grabbed the nearest stuffed animal, tucking it into the blanket with you.

“I gotta go to the kitchen, okay?” He asked, and your eyes widened. “Don’t worry, though, I’ll be right back!”

You watched him all the while he zoomed around the corner into the kitchen, never leaving your line of sight as he ran to the fridge and pulled out a premade bottle. Taking the lid off, he put it in the microwave for less than a minute, just enough to bring it around room temperature, and as an added courtesy, he even made sure to open the microwave door before it could beep too loudly.

Just as quickly as he’d rushed into the kitchen, Peter was right back by your side, climbing up onto the couch to join you. He wrapped an arm around your blanketed body, leaning you into him as he brought the lukewarm bottle to your lips. With tears still in your eyes, you drank. The warm milk filling your belly brought your mind into focus, and your breathing steadied with each sip. With the hand that wasn’t already clutched around your stuffie, you reached out to Peter, gripping his pointer finger with your whole hand. The more you calmed down, the more your brother did as well, now confident in his ability to take care of you. You weren’t even halfway through with the bottle when you heard a familiar key in the front door lock.

Your milk drunk eyes flew open, laser focused on the door as it opened to reveal your two favorite people in the whole world. Peter dropped the bottle, but you’d already forgotten about your post-nap snack, your only care in the world was getting into your daddies’ arms as quickly as possible. Your arms reached out, fingers flexing out at Steve and Bucky, desperate for them to finish bringing in the groceries, locking the door, taking off their shoes. It felt like it was taking forever.

“Well look who’s awake!” Steve’s eyes lit up at the sight of you, just about as eager as you were to have you in his arms. He relieved you from Peter’s lap, and you gripped his shirt up in your fists, burying your face into his neck and breathing in his comforting scent. Peter was left to look up at Bucky, studying his face to try and figure out what he was thinking.

“I’m sorry Baba.” He apologized preemptively, just in case Bucky was mad at your nap ending prematurely.

“Sorry about what, kiddo? You didn’t wake her up on purpose, did you?”

Peter shook his head rigorously, hoping to convey to his Baba that he’d never do that.

“Then you have nothing to be sorry for, okay baby boy? In fact, it looks like you did a pretty good job holding down the fort while we were gone. I’m so proud of you.” Bucky said, picking up Peter and joining you and Steve in the kitchen where the ingredients for that night’s special dinner were all spread out on the counter.

“Yea! Luv oo!” You chimed in, and Peter grinned the widest you’d ever seen him.

#little!reader #stucky x little!reader #agere fic #daddy!stucky x little!reader #bucky x little!reader #marvel agere #daddy!bucky #little!peter x little!reader #chloe's fic

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staenless · 1 month

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The tonal shift in this episode isn't, as others have said, a bait and switch. It feels that way right now, but in reality everything has been building to this sombre discovery. We've had set ups for this darker tone and the bigger story sprinkled throughout the anime so far.

We've seen how death is treated in the dungeon, we've learnt the rules. The characters have discussed their first deaths, the corpse retrievers have been revealed to be corrupt and money hungry. From the get go we functioned under the understanding that we'd be digging Falins corpse out of the dragons stomach to revive. When the party eats with the Orcs we learn the dragon is active, far more active than it should be, and probably burning through it's food. The idea of Falin in the dragons stomach and possibly being digested is planted. People were commenting on how the party should be more worried about Falin being inside a dragon (although we also know they are moving as quickly as they are able, the dungeon is massive yall) and their concerns were right.

The party, like us, had all the information about Falins progress through the dragon. She's been eaten, she's being digested, the dragon is active she's being digested faster than expected. Falins skull is shocking, but it's not a surprise, not when we think back to all we've been told.

What else do we know about this world? What did we learn from Mr Tansu about the dungeon and the elves? What did we learn from Kabru about adventurers and the dungeon? What did we learn when Laios was in the living paintings?

I love the red dragon part of dungeon meshi because while reading the manga it felt like our characters are existing outside of the plot of the world. There's a story of magic and politics and our characters just aren't apart of it, they're on their own course. The red dragon is when our characters are finally introduced the the larger story of this world, of the dungeon. It's when the seeds that had been planted between meals and comradery begin to sprout. The story is emerging from its cocoon. If you're worried about everything becoming serious and dark now, don't be. The characters are still the same goofy assholes, the stakes are just shifting

#dungeon meshi

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mariasont · 1 month

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Ours Minds Entwined----------------------

ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4

Spencer Reid x Original Character x Aaron Hotchner

in which jason gideon's daughter joins the fbi as the newest youngest member

Chapter Three:

The precinct doors swung open, admitting the BAU team into a world where the air was heavy with the scent of stale coffee and the buzz of fluorescent lights. The local officers, scattered like leaves, paused mid-motion their gazes drawn at the badged newcomers. Among them, the chief stood out, his shoulders bearing the slump of defeat.

Evelyn stepped through the threshold, her arrival stirring the calm atmosphere as subtly as a breeze disturbs a tranquil pond. The male officers couldn't help but glance up from their desks, their conversations trailing off as they took in her confident stride and bright energy she carried like a torch. She was oblivious to the subtle shifts in posture, the stolen glances that followed her path to the map.

Hotchner's gaze, sharp and discerning, caught the brief interplay of looks, a silent conversation in the language of glances. Beside him, Reid's observation was more analytical, noting the dynamics without judgment, his mind already cataloging and discarding the information as irrelevant to the task at hand.

Hotchner's voice cut through the low buzz of the precinct, clear and authoritative. "We're here to assist, not take over. Your insights are invaluable." His words were a bridge, extending partnership to the weary officers.

The chief, a grizzled veteran with eyes that had seen too much, stepped forward to greet them. "We're at a dead end," he admitted, shaking Hotchner's hand with a grip that spoke of desperation. "This guy is thorough, leaves no trace."

Reid, his eyes sharp behind the lenses of his glasses, peered over the crime scene photos scattered across the table. "Has there been any consistency in the locations of the attacks?" he asked, his mind already sifting through the data like a codebreaker.

A detective, her badge dulled by the dust of the chase, shook her head. "All within a ten-mile radius, but no specific pattern. Random as far as we can tell."

Evelyn leaned over the map, her fingers tracing the spider web of roads and locations, her brow in concentration. "Not random, a constellation..." she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

It was there, in the quiet hum of her focus, the pattern emerged--a dance of dates and places that wove together.

"Look at the dates," Evelyn said, her voice a beacon cutting through the fog. "Each one aligns with a local event. It's not random; it's opportunistic. He's hiding in plain sight, using the crowds as cover for escape."

Silence fell, a heavy cloak, as all eyes turned to Evelyn. Reid's lips quivered in a semblance of a smile, his respect for her clear in the warmth of his eyes. "She's right," he affirmed. "The unsub isn't just local; he's embedded in the community, using public events as his hunting ground."

Hotchner's nod was slow, thoughtful, the gears of strategy turning behind his stoic facade. "Good work, Evelyn. Let's get a list of upcoming events, cross-reference with his known comfort zone. We might just catch him in the act."

The office was a cocoon of concentration, bathed in the soft hum of working minds. The only sources of light were the twin glows of computer screens, reflecting off Reid and Evelyn's focused faces. Papers littered the desk, each one a piece of the puzzle they were desperately trying to solve.

Reid, his eyes scanning the data before them, spoke without looking away from the screen. "If we consider the unsub's preference for high-density events, it's logical to deduce that he will utilize the inherent disorder as a smokescreen for his escape," he said, his voice a low murmur in the quiet room.

Evelyn's eyes, bright with the thrill of the hunt, were fixed on the screen as she leaned forward, her curiosity piqued by the list of events. Her hair had loosened during the long hours of research, giving her an air of approachability.

Reid, ever the picture of academic focus, had his brows furrowed in concentration. His hair was a bit more unruly than usual, the curls just slightly askew. The faintest hint of a five o'clock shadow graced his jawline, adding a rugged edge to his otherwise youthful appearance.

Evelyn leaned in, her eyes scanning the list. "What about this one?" she asked, pointing to an entry on the screen. "The annual bourbon event. It's popular, draws a big crowd, and it's happening within his hunting grounds."

Reid's eyes flickered with approval. "Good catch," he affirmed, his voice steady and calm, yet there was an undercurrent of enthusiasm for her keen observation.

Evelyn's cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, her eyes sparkling with pride. The praise from Dr. Reid, sent a wave of elation through her--all the way in between her thighs. She dragged her lower lip through her teeth, straightening her posture, as she turned to him. "So, we could catch him there," she said.

Reid observed the transformation with a gentle, knowing smile. There was a vibrancy to Evelyn's enthusiasm that reminded him so vividly of his own younger self--brilliant, eager to prove, and somewhat oblivious to the darkness they were about to face. Yet, there was a shadow of concern that crept into his thoughts; the job had a way of chipping away at one's spirit, and he hoped Evelyn would be spared the harsher realities for a little while longer. He saw her potential for greatness, but also the innocence that he once carried--an innocence he hoped to protect, even if just for a little while longer.

Reid leaned back in his chair, his eyes meeting Evelyn's with a mentor's patience. "It's a multifaceted problem," he began, his tone measured and informative. "We have to account for variables that could influence the unsub's behavior--law enforcement visibility, crowd dynamics, ingress and egress points."

Evelyn nodded, her pen pausing over the notebook that was quickly becoming a testament to her dedication. "Right, exit strategies," she echoed, her voice a mix of realization and admiration. "I didn't even think about that."

"There's always a pattern, a logic to their choices, even if it's skewed by their own delusions," Reid continued, the profiler in him surfacing as he spoke. "Our job is to decode that logic, to think like them, so we can be there to stop them."

Evelyn's scribbles grew more fervent, her eyes alight with the challenge. "To get into their heads," she mused, looking up at Reid with newfound understanding.

"Exactly," Reid affirmed with a nod, a subtle smile acknowledging her quick grasp of the concept. "And remember, the most seemingly insignificant detail could be the key to unlocking their next move."

The realization struck like a bolt of lightning, and the urgency was palpable in the room. Evelyn's breath hitched as she stared at the date, her voice a mix of alarm and adrenaline. "Reid, it's tomorrow," she said, the words tumbling out with the weight of their implications.

Reid's reaction was immediate, his sharp mind already racing through the implications. His eyes now mirrored Evelyn's intensity. "We need to call Hotch," he stated, the command in his voice leaving no room for hesitation.

The BAU team, after hours of meticulous planning for the bourbon festival operation, stepped into the hotel lobby--a spacious area with high ceilings and a grand chandelier casting a warm glow over the polished marble floors. The air was filled with a mix of anticipation and fatigue from the day's efforts.

Morgan's eyes, sharp and observant, scanned the surroundings before resting on Evelyn. His muscular frame relaxed against the front desk, his FBI badge glinting under the lobby's lights. "You know, for a rookie, you're not too shabby at this profiling gig," he teased, his voice carrying a hint of respect.

Evelyn, despite the exhaustion that shadowed her features, still managed to exude an effortless elegance. Her hair, usually tied back for practicality, had strands falling loosely around her face, softening her determined expression. "Oh, please. I learned from watching the best," she quipped, nudging him lightly with her shoulder.

Morgan chuckled. "Just remember, it's all fun and games until someone gets out-profiled by the new kid."

In the hours between the precinct and the hotel, the team had dissected every detail of the unsub's previous attacks. They mapped out the festival grounds, assigned undercover positions, and established communication protocols. They even ran through several scenarios, each time refining their strategy to ensure they were ready for any contingency.

As they finalized check-ins, Garcia buzzed in with last-minute intel, adding another layer to the plan. They would need to be vigilant, adaptive, and above all, united to outsmart a foe who had eluded everyone thus far. The team dispersed to their rooms, Reid lingering behind with Evelyn as their rooms ended up being next to each other.

The dimly lit hallway to their rooms was quiet, save for the soft thud of their footsteps on the plush carpet. Reid walked alongside Evelyn; his profile bathed in the intermittent glow of the overhead lights. His hair was tousled, likely from the countless times he'd run his fingers through it in thought, giving him a disheveled charm that Evelyn couldn't help but find endearing.

As they reached her door, Evelyn's bag strap slipped from her shoulder, prompting her to grasp it tighter. In doing so, the sleeve of her blouse shifted, revealing the gentle slope of her collarbone. Reid's gaze inadvertently followed the movement, and he felt an inexplicable warmth flood to his cheeks. It was a simple, innocent moment, yet it stirred something within him.

"Here we are," Evelyn said, her voice breaking the silence as she fumbled with her key card.

Reid, still slightly flustered, cleared his throat. "Yeah, um, goodnight, Evelyn. See you in the morning," he managed to say, his eyes lingered a moment longer than they should've before he turned towards his own door.

"Goodnight, Spencer," she replied, her use of his first name sending a ripple through the air.

The bourbon festival buzzed with energy, a tapestry of sounds and colors under the open sky. The scent of oak and vanilla wafted through the air, mingling with the sweet, earthy aroma of the surrounding food stalls. Laughter and lively conversations created a backdrop to the twang of banjos and fiddles playing a lively bluegrass tune, setting toes tapping on the grassy grounds.

As Evelyn navigated the festival crowd, Reid found his attention inadvertently drawn to her. The way the setting sun played with her hair, transforming it into a cascade of burnished waves, and the way the sundress accentuated her every curve with an understated elegance. There was something about Evelyn in this light, in this moment, that captivated him, and he caught himself appreciating the sight more than he had anticipated.

Reid's attire was a departure from his usual suits--a plaid shirt that brought out the flecks of amber in his eyes, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and dark jeans that were both functional and inconspicuous. His hair lay in casual disarray, seeming as though the festival's carefree spirit had influenced his usually precise appearance.

The bourbon festival was in full swing, the air filled with the sounds of laughter and music. Undercover among the revelers, Reid and Evelyn blended in seamlessly, their casual attire and relaxed demeanor belying the sharp vigilance in their eyes.

Evelyn leaned against a wooden stall, sipping her fake drink as she observed the crowed. "So, we're looking for a male in his 30s, likely with a history of gambling debts and penchant for superstition," she recited quietly to Reid.

Reid, who was pretending to be engrossed in a festival brochure, nodded subtly. "Exactly. The four-leaf clover he leaves with his victims--it's not just superstition; it's a signature. It suggests a compulsion, a need to leave his mark, which is indicative of a narcissistic personality. He's taunting law enforcement, believing he can control the outcome of his crimes--like he's playing his own game of chance."

Evelyn, her voice low and steady leaned in. "So, we're looking for someone who blends in too well, someone who's watching but not engaging," she observed, her gaze sweeping over the crowd.

Reid nodded, his attention divided between her and the faces passing by. "Our unsub targets individuals who are isolated, perhaps separated from the group--easy prey in a setting like this," he explained.

Evelyn's eyes followed his line of sight. "Right, the loners. The ones who look like they're searching for something or someone," she added.

As the evening progressed, the shadows began to cast across the faces of the crowd. Reid and Evelyn moved through the throng, their gazes sharp and discerning. They passed a group of raucous college students, their laughter ringing out as they clinked their glasses in a toast. A little further on, a family of four navigated the crowd, the children's faces painted with whimsical designs, their hands sticky with cotton candy.

The air was rich with the scent of smoked meats and the char of oak barrels, the soundscape a blend of folk music and the murmur of hundreds of conversations.

Reid's voice was low as he leaned in, "It's fascinating how a beverage can be both a social lubricant and a potential clue in a criminal investigation. I suppose that adds a whole new layer to the term 'spirit detective'."

Evelyn's laughter was like a melody that cut through the ambient noise of the festival, infectious and unrestrained. It was the kind of laugh that turned heads, not just for its volume but for its genuine quality.

She turned to Reid, her eyes alight with a playful glint. "So, we're adding 'spirit detective' to your already impressive resume? I must say, it's quite the title upgrade from genius profiler," she quipped, her tone teasing.

"Easy, we don't want to draw attention," Reid murmured, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. Her laugh was a laugh he realized he wanted to hear again, a candid burst of warmth that cut through the coolness of his analytical mind.

The festival's din faded into the background as Evelyn's attention was momentarily captured by Hotch's presence. He stood there, a figure of quiet authority even in his casual undercover attire. The subtle checkered pattern of his shirt did little to conceal his disciplined build, and the way his jeans fit just right made Evelyn's mouth feel dry all of a sudden.

Hotch's eyes, usually a well of stoicism, held a flicker of something else as they met Evelyn's--a momentary lapse in his guarded demeanor. His gaze, sharp and assessing, traveled over her in a swift, sweeping motion that was both professional and personal. It lingered just a beat too long on the curve of her neckline.

Hotch, after his brief lapse, was once again the picture of professionalism. His conversation with Rossi resumed, his demeanor unreadable, the brief moment of personal interest concealed behind a mask of focus and command. Evelyn, still oblivious to the subtle undercurrents of attraction, turned her attention back to the mission, her mind as sharp as ever.

Evelyn excused herself from Spencer, weaving through the crowd in search of the bathroom. The path to the restrooms was a stark contrast to the bourbon-soaked revelry Evelyn had left behind. The vibrant string of lights gave way to the occasional flickering bulb that did little to pierce the encroaching darkness. The music, once a lively companion, now played a muffled soundtrack to her solitary walk, the notes distorted and distant.

The restrooms, a small cluster of temporary structures, stood isolated at the edge of the festival grounds. Evelyn's boots sank slightly in the soft earth with each step, the recent rain turning the ground to a treacherous mix of mud and grass.

As she stepped out, the sense of solitude was abruptly shattered. A hand clamped over her mouth with startling force, stifling the scream that rose in her throat. Her assailant's arm was an iron band around her, pulling her back against a solid chest. Panic flared, her breath hot and desperate against the palm pressed to her lips.

Panic surged, her heart thundering in her chest, her mind screaming for action, but her body momentarily paralyzed by fear. It was him--the unsub. His breath was hot against her ear, his grip unyielding.

Adrenaline surged through Evelyn's veins, her training taking over as she drove her elbow back with precision, aiming for the soft of her attacker's abdomen. The unsub grunted, his grip loosening just enough for her to twist out of his hold. The unsub recovered quickly; his face contorted with anger.

He lunged at her, throwing a punch that Evelyn narrowly dodged. She countered with a swift kick to his knee, causing him to buckle, but he was relentless. He swung again, this time connecting with her cheek, the impact sending a jolt of pain through her jaw.

Evelyn staggered but didn't falter. She wiped the trickle of blood from her lip and glared at the unsub with fierce determination. With a swift move, she stepped inside his reach, delivered a powerful uppercut that snapped his head back, and followed with a knee to his midsection that doubled him over.

As he gasped for air, Evelyn seized the opportunity. She grabbed his arm, twisted behind his back, and pushed him down to the ground. "FBI! You're under arrest," she declared, her voice steady despite the pounding of her heart.

The scene was a rush of motion as the team manifested in an instant. Reid's face was a canvas of raw concern, his eyes searching for signs of distress. Hotch allowed a rare glimpse of worry to surface as he took in her appearance--the bleeding lip and the bruise blooming on her cheek. Evelyn's hair, though slightly disheveled from the altercation, framed her face.

The team's anxiety was palpable, a collective breath held until they were certain she was unharmed. It was her first case, and the stakes had never felt more personal. Yet, as Evelyn stood there, her bright smile breaking through the tension, her spirit undimmed by the encounter.

"I got him!" she declared; her smile unwavering as she met the eyes of her team.

Evelyn perched precariously on the cold metal edge of the ambulance, the harsh glare of its lights casting long shadows on the pavement. The EMT, with gentle hands, tended to the gash on her lip--a stark red against her skin. Each touch of the disinfectant was a sharp reminder of the day's chaos, a stinging sensation that seemed to echo her inner turmoil.

Despite the pain, Evelyn found solace in the rhythm of conversation, her words weaving between the EMT's methodical treatment. She spoke of trivial things at first, the weather, the relentless pace of the city, anything to keep the silence at bay. Yet, even as her voice trembled slightly, revealing cracks in her usually unflappable demeanor, she smiled--a smile, wistful curve of the lips.

Spencer's approach was hesitant, his hands buried deep in the refuge of his pockets, betraying a casual facade that his furrowed brow contradicted. As he drew nearer, the dim light fell upon Evelyn's features, illuminating the stark contrast of bruised skin against the sterile white of the ambulance's interior. His eyes, a mirror of his internal struggle, winced at the sight, a silent testament to the empathy that swelled within him.

"How you holding up?" he inquired, his voice a soft undercurrent amidst the wail of distant sirens. The concern in his tone was evident, wrapping around her like a warm blanket.

Evelyn, her face a canvas of the day's trails, bore the marks of the ordeal with an unsettling grace. The cut on her lip, now cleaned, was a vivid line drawn across her otherwise smooth complexion. Flecks of dried blood were still visible.

Evelyn's smile, though small and tinged with irony, was a testament to her unyielding optimism. "I've had better nights," she quipped, the humor in her voice a gentle balm against the sting of the EMT's ministrations. As a fresh bandage adhered to her cheek--she winced.

"I know it's part of the job, but... I'm sorry you had to go through that," Spencer said, his eyes meeting hers with sincerity.

Evelyn's shrug was a delicate dance of nonchalance, her shoulders lifting in a gesture that belied the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. "Comes with the territory, right?" she said, her voice a mix of jest and earnest. "Besides, we got him, and that's what counts." Her words were a shield, a deflection of the concern she saw mirrored in Spencer's eyes.

Spencer's response was a nod, subtle yet laden with the weight of unspoken words. The corner of his mouth curved into a faint smile, a silent accolade for her courage. "You did good, Evelyn. Really good." His affirmation was simple, but it carried the depth of his respect for her, for the strength she wielded so effortlessly.

"Thanks," Evelyn replied, her gratitude genuine, a softening in the steel of her eyes. "For checking on me." It was a moment of vulnerability, a crack in her armor that allowed gratitude to seep through.

"It's what teammates do." Spencer said, his voice a low timbre that seemed to resonate with the quiet of the night. His gaze held hers, a momentary tether, it lingered a beat longer than necessary.

As the silence stretched between them, a figure approached, his footsteps measured and purposeful. It was Hotch, his presence commanding even in the dim light. He carried with him a blanket. Spencer, ever perceptive, felt the shift in the air and excused himself with a nod, stepping away to give them space. Hotch's eyes met Evelyn's, a wordless exchange passing between them before he spoke.

"You should keep warm," Hotch said, his voice firm yet laced with concern. He unfolded the blanket with practiced ease and draped it over her shoulders, the soft material enveloping in a gentle embrace. His eyes inadvertently lingered on the wound upon her lip, the starkness of the injury drawing his focus. It was a fleeting moment, but in it, there was an intensity. The EMT, giving them a brief nod, finished up and moved aside, leaving them in a quiet bubble of privacy.

Evelyn pulled the blanket tighter around her, the fabric against the night's chill. Hotch's proximity was a force itself, the air charged with an energy that seemed to pulse with each of his measured breaths. She was acutely aware of his gaze, the way it rested upon her with an intensity that was both unsettling and reassuring.

"Thank you," she murmured, her gaze lifting the meet Hotch's steady one.

Hotch's stance was as resolute as his reputation, his figure cutting a commanding silhouette against the flickering lights of the emergency vehicles. "Evelyn," he intoned, his voice carrying the weight of authority softened by a trace of concern. His eyes, usually a guarded fortress, held a glimmer of uncharacteristic turmoil as they fixed upon her.

Evelyn, still cocooned in the blanket, looked up to meet his gaze. The ambient light played across her features, highlighting the youthful resolve etched into her bruised face.

In that moment, as he saw her standing her ground, something within Hotch shifted. The sight of her in the fray, fiercely fighting for her life, had ignited a surge of panic unlike anything he'd experienced with other team members. It was a visceral reaction, one that puzzled him with the intensity. Was it the paternal instinct to protest the progeny of his old friend and mentor, Gideon? Or was it something else?

Whatever the cause, it was a jarring sentiment that Hotch quickly compartmentalized, returning to the matter at hand with his usual stoic clarity. "You know the risks of going off alone, even for a moment," he reiterated, his stern gaze lingering on the cut of her lip--a silent reproof of her impulse.

Evelyn absorbed the words, her own eyes reflecting a complex mix or appreciation and a newfound understanding of the weight of her actions.

Hotch's gaze softened as he concluded, "Despite that, you handled yourself well out there. It's clear you're Gideon's daughter, and that's not just a responsibility--it's a strength. I have no doubt you'll become an invaluable part of this team. You're going to be okay, Evelyn."

#spencer reid x original character #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #aaron hotchner x reader x spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fandom #reid #dr reid #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x original character #aaron hotchner x reader #spencer reid x reader x aaron hotchner #Spotify

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smuttysabina · 9 months

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A Day in the Life

(Chaeryeong x ITZY x Staff x You?, 1900 words)

Curious about how Chaeryeong and the rest of Itzy spend their days training? Well listen in then on this little secret!

"It takes a lot of hard work to be an idol. To master the arts of song and dance, to build the charisma to rule the stage, to navigate the intricacies of sensual activities. To some, it comes easy, a natural fit for their innate abilities, but for most it requires rigorous daily training in all aspects of their job. For Chaeryeong, her day starts at around 7 AM..."

"Chaeryeong is woken up by her alarm, which she then proceeds to snooze while she dozes for some time. Eventually, she gathers the energy to face a new day, and spends a few minutes scrolling through her phone while she fully wakes up. By this time, her roommate Yeji is generally awake, grumbling as she shoos the night's bed-warmers away. Chaeryeong tends to ignore the cavalcade of ravaged interns filing out of her room, even if she may have enjoyed some of them during the evening. Finally, she emerges from her snug cocoon, stretching and yawning as she prepares for yet another busy day of training. First up of course is breakfast, which she enjoys in common room with the rest of Itzy, those that can manage to be awake by then at least. Yuna in particular enjoys sleeping in, still cum-drunk from her late-night escapades with her pillow-pets. Then comes the morning stretches, done wherever the girls prefer to be; Chaery generally ends up doing hers in her room. After limbering up her well-toned body, she then moves on to limbering up her equally well maintained holes.

For this, Chaeryeong has a vast and varied array of sex toys of every conceivable form and function. From the most mundane ordinary dildos, to bizarrely bulging and fluted dongs, to enormous or length hole-wreckers; all have a place in her morning routines. She always makes sure to begin with a normal sized dildo, it doesn't do to rush things, slowly working her pussy until it is nice a wet. Then she moves on to more strenuous objects; some days she goes for depth, prioritizing training her anus with long slipper gut-fuckers, other times she goes for width, stretching her pussy until it gapes so amply she could give birth with ease. A particular favorite of Chaery's is a board with gradually increasing dildos attached to it; the dongs are placed close enough that she is forced to use both of her holes to proceed, until by the end she is forcing gargantuan phalluses into her gushing holes. By the end of the first half of her workout session, Chaeryeong is almost guaranteed to be rather stretched out, with both pussy and ass worked to such a degree that even triple penetration from lusty fans wouldn't bother her in the least. But of course, capacity isn't everything. Any slut with blown-out holes could accommodate several cocks inside of her, so long as she dallies on occasion with larger toys. However, the cocks shoved inside of her would be sorely disappointed by the lack of sensation they would encounter; such holes would be unable to grip their lovers with any sort of enthusiasm.

So after stretching herself to the limit, Chaeryeong proceeds to work her way back down the size chart. Using modified inflatable dildos, she clenches and squeezes them, crushing the air out of them repeatedly until her holes grow tight once more. After this exotic Kegal exercise, Cheary's pussy has grown snug enough once more that she can hold her tiniest toy within her without worrying about it falling out. Such an extreme exercise is what gives her holes that special quality that makes idol pussy so greatly desired: its capability to devour even the largest cock, while still being able to grip the smallest hard enough to drain it in seconds. After Chaeryeong is finished with this morning sexual exercise, she has enough time left in her schedule to relax for a little while; she may even take a shower. She often passes on that though, unless her training was particularly messy, there's no reason to clean off when she will soon be getting dirty soon enough. Plus, stinking of sex and sweat is the norm in Itzy.

Chareyeong then rejoins her fellows in the mirrored room familiar to any dance studio. Her fellow idols would have engaged in the same morning routine she had, with varying levels of enthusiasm; Yeji and Yuna barely even bother with dildos anymore, greatly preferring to hone their skills on flesh and blood cocks. But such activities must cum later, since Itzy first have to spend time honing their more mundane occupational duties. Guided by expert choreographers and instructors, the girls hone their excellent dancing skills that have given them such a fierce reputation on the stage (as well as in the bedroom). Of course, several hours of intense and often erotic exercises leave passions running high, and management is always sure to have attractive interns on hand to spare the more expensive personnel the rigors of getting fucked by lustful idols. Chaery is quite sparing and picky in her choice of sexual partners, preferring to take her time with a couple lovers, rather than rapaciously ravaging a dozen. After exhaustive training, and equally exhausting love-making, Itzy take a break for lunch and relaxation, chattering and bickering with one another as they feast upon a hearty lunch. Following that the girls have the rest of the break to themselves, spending it however they wish.

After an hour or so has passed, Yeji rounds the scattered girls up and herds them to their next station of the day; vocal training. While strong vocal talent has become less important in the 4th Generation, it is still important for the girls to maintain their skills; and even improve upon them. Itzy therefore spend a couple hours training their voices, before moving on to training their throats. Depending on the severity of the lesson, the oral skills being practiced are adjusted according for each girl. Lia, with her natural talents, finds herself practicing her deepthroating techniques far more often than say, Chaery, who commonly hones her tongue and lip skills. Which is not to say that Chearyeong is bad at singing, just that she has to put more effort into it than the others. It doesn't mean that her oral skills are lacking either, she is surprisingly good at tenderly milking her assistant's loads out of their cocks. Chaery and Lia are even generally preferred by the staff for this exercise; Yeji and Yuna have the unfortunate habit of using their teeth a touch too much...

After the girls get their sore and aching throats sufficiently well-lubricated with soothing semen, they move on to their final (official) training of the afternoon; Pilates. Muscles tired from a day's worth of exercise and debauchery, Itzy finish things off with some relaxing stretching. Their bodies lithely coil and strain, to the arousing chorus of sighs and groans as joints pop and crackle. Of course, to those watching it is an incredibly sensual sight, five gorgeous idols putting themselves on intimate display for all to see. Is it any wonder that many require erotic release? But this is Itzy's most important workout of the day, and intimate interruptions would ruin their purpose; so none are allowed to touch them in any way. Which doesn't stop the assistants from ejaculating and squirting all over them. Their experienced instructors nimbly ply their gushing pussies, moaning unashamedly when they are unneeded as they spray girl-cum all over the idols. Meanwhile the water-boys stroke themselves in a frenzy, spewing long ropes of semen all over the stretching girls. Sometimes the employees even copulate right next to their charges, vigorously mating while Itzy calmly go about their routines. Well, not entirely calmly. By this point certain girls will have their crotches soaked with their own fluids, pussies dripping with lust at the sight and smell of sex going on around them. Ryujin usually orgasms several times without touching during this period, squirt puddling around whatever equipment she is currently using. Chaeryeong meanwhile is generally unimpressed by the debaucheries, stoically receiving the sticky offerings of her assistants as she works the day's kinks out of her muscles. When the Pilates session is finally over, all of Itzy are quite literally drenched with sexual fluids; this also marks the end of their structured day.

By now slathered in sweat and sex, Chaery almost always heads to the showers to clean off; unless she is feeling particularly lustful. The rest of Itzy generally joins her, their delays dependent on how much arousal they had to fuck out of themselves before they could shower in peace. After hosing the worst of the day's dried semen out of her hair, Chaery quietly retreats back into her shared room with Yeji; munching on chocolate and watching videos on her tablet. She lays there undisturbed, cheerfully enjoying herself until Yeji drags her out of the room to enjoy a family dinner with the rest of Itzy. After scarfing down her meal, Chaery washes it down with some alcohol, to help smooth out the rest of her evening. As the lover's hour approaches, Itzy pick their paramours for the night; often grabbing several to better satisfy themselves. Many nights, there are even rowdy orgies in the main living area, before the girls retire to their rooms for more... intimate attentions. Unless someone looks like her type, however, Chaeryeong often avoids the gangbang outside; instead patiently waiting for Yeji to return as she idly masturbates. Once things have suitably died down, Itzy's leader rejoins Chaery in their room, hauling along a clutch of appetizing bed-warmers. Yeji is always sure to save the most adorable and kind boys for her darling Chaery; she deserves to have only the most romantic of guys to lay with her. And of course, if Chaeryeong isn't in the mood for more sex, Yeji is always more than happy to satiate herself with them; she does love breaking the good ones in..."

"...And so, either curled up with an exhausted lover, or just by herself, Chaeryeong drifts off to sleep, lulled by the mewling of Yeji's drained pets..." You finish writing and look up from your laptop, seeing Chaeryeong patiently smiling at your from the chair opposite yours. She stretches languidly, and asks if there is anything else you wanted to ask her for your article. You watch her lithe form avidly, before blinking and assuring her that you had all the information you needed. Chaery pouts playfully, well in that case...

Chaeryeong smoothly approaches you, and upon moving your laptop aside, glances down in teasing surprise at the massive bulge on your crotch. Her hand gently touches your quivering member, stilling your embarrassed protests, and she pretends to be shocked by its size. It seems like you still need to ask her some hard questions don't you think? Chaery moves to straddle you, gently pushing her breasts into your face as she beams down at you; she can tell that all that talk made you very excited. So relax, take your time, and enjoy yourself.

Let Chaeryeong show you in-person, how she enjoys spending her nights...

#kpop smut #itzy smut #chaeryeong smut

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