#filed under: exceptional post

[slendermanager]

Yes.

[sainz100]

one more small throwback from the 2021 Abu Dhabi GP | x

[syn4k]

these chickens are all named shit like "HELP ME" and "I REPENT MY SINS" like. come on man. it was perfectly fine poultry. look at them! theyve got catholic guilt!

[slendermanager]

Definitely going on the fridge in the breakroom.

i made more do you like it

[discordantrhapsody]

About one hundred fifty years ago, Jack Vessalius, third son of Viscount Vessalius, formed an unlikely friendship. Glen Baskerville, leader of the mysterious Baskerville Clan, was an enigmatic figure whose orders were followed absolutely within his own community.

Though the Baskervilles rarely allowed outsiders to contact them, Jack was an exception. He grew close to Glen and regarded him as his best friend. However, over time, their relationship soured.

After a period of suspicion, Jack's fears were confirmed when Glen ordered those within the Clan to kill all outsiders in the capital city of Sablier. Their reasoning remained uncertain. While the public story suggested a plot to usurp the throne, Jack believed it was an attempt to aquire the power of the entity known as the Will of the Abyss.

During this attack, a powerful force dragged the city of Sablier into the Abyss, leaving Jack Vessalius as the lone survivor. He would recount that he had killed Glen himself in order to limit the destruction from expanding beyond the city, perhaps even swallowing the entire world.

Though horrified and sorrowful for the loss of his friend, Jack would go on to work alongside the King to establish the creation of the Four Great Dukedoms and the paramilitary organization Pandora in order to research, and control, the powers of Abyss. All properties formerly held by the Baskerville clan would be divided evenly between these five powers, including four of five Gates leading directly into Abyss, and the black-winged Chains they house.

This is the story of the Tragedy of Sablier, according to Pandora.

[elitisim]

so, i hit 1k sometime in the beginning of June ✨🥳. Which means my incessant yapping about absolutely nothing on every post I make and multiple months-long unannounced hiatuses didn't scare all of you off yet, so thanks for that y'all.

No, but for real tho, I genuinely want to express my gratitude to each and every one of you for putting up with me and all my BS, so my 1k+ gift exclusively consists of hairs requested by YOU!  Which is totally about giving back to the community that has supported me and NOT just an excuse to dump all the requests that have been sitting here piling up for months.

there are only 7 hairs in the preview image but a bunch of these are from sets, so all-in-all you're getting 17 female hairs!

INFORMATION:

None of this is my original work! All mesh credit goes to @sheabuttyr, @ebonixsims, @daylifesims, @simstrouble!

Set contains 17 hairs for for Teen ➤ Elder Females

due to how the meshes where made the Poloma Passion Twists and Monae Beads don't have root/tip controls so they’re only 2 channels the rest are 4 like normal.

credits, preview pictures, links to originals, poly counts and individual download links for every hair is under the cut.

polycounts are ALL over the place. Lowest hair is +10k, Highest one is +32k. Please reference the list under the cut before downloading!

Files comes in two flavors: Merged and Unmerged

Both types contain the exact same type of stuff (package file and preview images) except version one is one big merged file and the version has individual files.

[DOWNLOAD MERGED]

[DOWNLOAD UNMERGED]

[PICK AND CHOOSE]

Tagging list: @pis3update, @naturalhair-sims3, @xto3conversionsfinds, @kpccfinds

@simstrouble Adeline Braids//22.2k poly// requested by @paigeywaigeyy

[DOWNLOAD]

@sheabuttyr: London Locs // 16.2k Poly //requested by @thesirensims

[DOWNLOAD]

@daylifesims: Honey Sun Clover Dreadlocks v1// 10.8K Poly //requested by anon

[DOWNLOAD]

@daylifesims: Honey Sun Clover Dreadlocks v2// 10.9K Poly // Under hats // fully recolorable// 1 channel// requested by anon

[DOWNLOAD]

@ebonixsims: Monae Beadset V1//32.7K Poly! // Under hats // Recolorable beads 4 channels//no tips or root controls due to mesh//requested by anon

[DOWNLOAD]

@ebonixsims: Monae Beadset V2//30.5K Poly! // Under hats // Recolorable// 4 channels//no tips or root controls due to mesh//requested by anon

[DOWNLOAD]

@daylifesims :Honey Sun Alfalfa Braids v1// 10.1K Poly // Under hats // fully recolorable// 1 channel// requested by anon

[DOWNLOAD]

@daylifesims :Honey Sun Alfalfa Braids v2// 10.1K Poly // Under hats // fully recolorable// 1 channel// requested by anon

[DOWNLOAD]

@sheabuttyr: Daija Dreads V1 // 28.6k Poly //requested by anon.

[DOWNLOAD]

@sheabuttyr: Daija Dreads V2 // 30.8k Poly! //requested by anon

[DOWNLOAD]

@sheabuttyr: Paloma Passion Twist V1// 25k Poly//requested by @paigeywaigeyy

[DOWNLOAD]

@sheabuttyr:Paloma Passion Twist V2// 25k Poly//requested by @paigeywaigeyy

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@sheabuttyr:Paloma Passion Twist V3// 25k Poly//requested by @paigeywaigeyy

[DOWNLOAD]

@sheabuttyr:Paloma Passion Twist V4// 25k Poly//requested by @paigeywaigeyy

[DOWNLOAD]

@sheabuttyr:Paloma Passion Twist V5// 25kPoly //requested by @paigeywaigeyy

[DOWNLOAD]

@sheabuttyr:Paloma Passion Twist V6// 25kPoly //requested by @paigeywaigeyy

[DOWNLOAD]

@sheabuttyr:Paloma Passion Twist V7// 25kPoly //requested by @paigeywaigeyy

[DOWNLOAD]

@sheabuttyr:Paloma Passion Twist V8/ /25kPoly //requested by @paigeywaigeyy

[DOWNLOAD]

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

[slendermanager]

I have come back because I cannot not share this post

happy pride month, faggots

[fleuraliasave]

❤ Version 8.0 Fleuralia Save File ❤

Download link down below (please read entire post before installing)

This save file uses all EP’s, GP’s, SP’s and most of the kits (Except Sweet Slumber Party, Cozy Kitsch, Urban Homage, Goth Galore, Grunge Revival, Carnaval Streetwear and Modern Menswear kits).

What’s new in this update?:

Ciudad Enamorada and Ravenwood have been completely redone, added multiple new lots, updated other lots and provided make-overs for the households.

Added new households (when living in world; with jobs, friends, preferences etc).

Current Status of Worlds:

Finished worlds: Willow Creek, Oasis Springs, Newcrest, Magnolia Promenade, Windenburg, San Myshuno, Forgotten Hollow, Brindleton Bay, Del Sol Valley, StrangerVille, Glimmerbrook, Sulani, Britechester , Evergreen Harbor, Mt. Komorebi, Henford-on-Bagley, Tartosa, Moonwood Mill, Copperdale, San Sequoia, Chestnut Ridge, Tomarang, Ciudad Enamorada (NEW!) and Ravenwood (NEW!).

Finished vacation worlds: Granite Falls and Selvadorada.

Finihed other lots: Hospital, Science Lab and the Police Station.

To be updated: the Magic Realm and Grimm's office, will either be included in a future update or on the gallery (OriginID: fleuralia)

What do you get with this save?:

For my save file all lots are either completely new builds (almost all) or renovations, ofcourse created by me. Exception: I have added the official build for the release of the Paranormal SP by Dr Ashley to this save. This build is therefore not my own creation, credits are given in the description to Dr Ashley. The lots in newer worlds are largely created by GameChangers. The ratio is around 50/50 with my builds versus renovations (done by me but with the original as the base).

All the townies had make-overs plus I added new families to spice it up a bit. Some of the townies are made by other creators, who are given credits in the description of the household. All the townies in the different worlds have a story, some include sentiments and adjusted relationships to the story.

Added plenty of community lots to give your Sims something to do (YAY!). Almost every world has one restaurant, but it also includes festivals that represent the four seasons (park lots) and a fully functional shopping street in Magnolia Promenade (toy store, bridal store and more).

I have added rental lots so you can go on vacation in more worlds. For example in Sulani, Willow Creek and Windenburg.

Other details:

As mentioned at the beginning, this save uses almost all packs (except some kits). This means that if you download it without owning or installing most of the packs a lot of objects will disappear from the save, but if you are not bothered by this you can still download and play in it.  

I disabled the neigborhood action plan voting/environmental changes, you enable them again in the pack settings menu. I also disabled the neigborhood stories, you can enable them again in the household menu.

I would love to add some households in this save created by all of you! Add your household under the hashtag #fleuraliatownies in The Sims 4 Gallery, you can add a storyline and world in the description but thats not obligatory. If I respond on your creation it means that I have incorporated it in the save for the next update.

Sadly every game update comes with a lot of bugs. I suggest before reporting problems in the save to me, to check on forums if its related to a general bug/glitch or to mods (if you use them).

Questions and supportive feedback are always welcome, you can reach me here via a comment on this post, an ask or through a DM 😁

As said in my previous post I will be slowly starting on moving the builds and sims to a fresh save to help with bugs and incorporate fixes from the Sims team that only work in fresh saves (like Grimm not being able to woohoo). But this will take me some time, when its nearly done I will update on here as always.

How to make it work in your game:

Download the save file from the link below.

Drag it in your saves folder under: PC/Documents/Electronic Arts/The Sims 4/saves.

Change the numbers if you already have a save with the same name.

It should now show up in your game as: Fleuralia Save V 8.0.

DOWNLOAD (SFS) / Alternate (GD)

!!Don’t re-upload or claim as your own!!

Future updates will follow after each pack release (if it includes a world). The time the update will be uploaded after each release depends on how much I have to change and on my work schedule around that time.

Last but not least, enjoy and till next time! XX

Fleuralia

Feel free to support me ❤️: Ko-fi account

[hotchnerwrites]

“Enemies to lovers, but only one of them thinks they're enemies. The other has been entirely obsessed since the beginning.” Saw this concept on here and got me thinking—reader works at the bau and thinks hotch hates her, but in reality it’s the opposite and she’s misreading his signals?

Mixed Signals

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: SFW, idiots in love, good ending, swear words

A/N: Hi hi hi hi!!! sorry for the long wait!!! finally have some time on hand from exams and im getting all reqs done!!! chose to go down a dry humour/funny route for this. honestly reminded me of my olive branch fic, except it's reversed ahahah. anyway, thank you so much for your patience. i hope you enjoy this!!!! so much love, mwah mwah mwah <3

My requests are open. Send me stuff! Please read the rules before asking, and be advised there is a slight wait time right now. But I will post for sure. :)

ps- i kind of maybe forgot to proofread so let's pretend any errors don't exist 😬 

At the end of the day, it was just work.

You all were colleagues— professionals selected for their skills, all crammed together into one bullpen and expected to play nice. That didn’t mean you had to be friends. People were allowed to dislike each other if they wanted. It happened. Tensions flared, personalities clashed, and someone always ate the last yoghurt tub.

And if Aaron Hotchner happened to hate you in particular, well, that was his right. It was just part of the job. And you were aware of it. Oh, so aware. Acute, constantly and embarrassingly aware.

There was no question about it: he hated you. Not disliked. Not tolerated with professional indifference. No— this was loathing. Cold, calculated, deep-in-his-bones hatred. 

You felt it in your blood every time Hotch walked into the bullpen and skipped over you when saying good morning. It radiated from his office like a laser death ray whenever you laughed a bit too loud. 

It wasn’t paranoia. You’d done the math.

Morgan? A nod of approval. Prentiss? Professional respect. Reid? Indulgent patience. Rossi? Best friends. You? Fuck all.

You were sick of the stone-faced silence. And that look he did. That little glance from the corner of his eye, paired with a crease between his brows. Like your presence caused him physical pain. You’d once made a joke in the SUV, and he sighed. Not laughed. Sighed. It was actually quite impressive, how consistent he was about it. 

You’d retaliated by calling Hotch all kinds of names. Mentally, of course. It was childish and dramatic, you know. But no more dramatic than the way he had once corrected your paperwork with a red pen, and hadn’t even told you— just left it on your desk like a cursed object. 

You tried not to take it personally. For a while, it worked. But then he started doing this thing— this new thing— where he’d enter a room, and leave as soon as you walked in. It had only happened twice, but it had been the same excuse both times: that superiors called him away. Suspicious.

So you did what any well-adjusted and emotionally mature adult would do. You went straight to Garcia’s office and told her that your boss hated you and you were going to get fired because he could smell your weakness. She’d gasped, handed you a bejewelled stress ball, and offered to hack into some database on your behalf (you declined, but it was nice to feel loved for a change).

Still, you couldn’t shake it. It seemed like he couldn’t be in your orbit for more than three and a half minutes without the need to file an HR report.

So when the moment came, you weren’t prepared.

●・○・●・○・●・

You were in the briefing room, finishing up your notes after everyone else had gone. The case had closed. People were smiling. Even Hotch had smiled at someone. (Not you. Obviously. But still.)

You were alone now, sorting through crime scene photos, muttering under your breath about timelines, when his voice startled you.

“You missed lunch.”

You jumped. Clutched a photo like a weapon. “Hotch—you can’t just sneak up on people like that.”

He looked vaguely alarmed. “I knocked.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did,” he insisted, like someone trying to explain doorbells to a raccoon.

You narrowed your eyes. “What do you want?”

He paused. Then, slowly, he stepped forward and—without ceremony—placed a sandwich in front of you. Neatly wrapped. Labelled with your name. From your favourite place.

You blinked. “…What is this?”

“You didn’t eat.” A beat. “It’s been a while since the brief ended.”

“I— I was going to—”

“I’ve noticed.”

You stare at the sandwich like it’s a bomb. Then at him.

“You got me food?”

“Yes.”

“Because you hate me and you’re trying to poison me?”

He blinked. “What?”

“It’s fine,” you said, hands raised in mock surrender. “I respect it. A clean kill. No one would suspect a thing.”

“…Why would I hate you?”

You let out a single, disbelieving laugh. “Are you kidding? You avoid me like I’m radioactive. You only talk to me when absolutely necessary, and even then, you struggle. You sigh when I speak.”

Hotch looked absolutely, entirely baffled.

“I sigh at everyone.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do. It’s a thinking thing.”

You scoffed. “Well, you don’t think around Morgan that much, apparently.”

He exhaled. Then, before you could launch into Exhibit D (the Unspoken Broom Closet Incident), he said:

“I’ve always valued your insight.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Your reports are consistently the most thorough. Your geographic profiling is precise. You’re one of the most detail-oriented agents I’ve worked with.”

You stared at him. “…So you don’t hate me?”

“No,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “Quite the opposite.”

Silence.

You opened your mouth, about to ask what the opposite of hate even meant in Hotch-speak, but he was already turning away, clearing his throat.

“Anyway,” he said, suddenly very interested in the wallpaper, “I thought you might want lunch. That’s all.”

And then he was gone. Just—left. Like he hadn’t just lobbed that cryptic grenade over his shoulder and walked away.

●・○・●・○・●・

You don’t eat it right away. Not because you’re still suspicious—it’s from your favourite deli and has your name written on the brown paper in what can only be described as Hotch's weird, neat serial killer handwriting—but because you're too busy mentally disassociating.

Quite the opposite.

What on earth did he mean?

The rest of the day passes in a weird, slow-motion haze. JJ gives you a weird look when you accidentally sit in her chair. Reid asks if you’ve seen his recent paper, and you blink at him like you’ve just returned from war.

Because you’re thinking. Hard.

Like:

That time Hotch asked if you were staying late and then looked weirdly panicked when you said you were walking home.

The morning you came in limping from breaking your ankle, and he said, “You shouldn’t be here,” in the flattest tone imaginable.

How he called you by your first name once, and you almost fell out of your chair because he never uses anyone’s first names. You chalked it up to a lapse. 

And then. Then, the worst one.

Last month. You’d been coughing like a maniac during a briefing. He had placed a bottle of water in front of you with a dull thunk. At the time, you had taken it to be his passive-aggressive way of saying please shut the fuck up right now. Only to find out later from JJ that he’d actually gotten up and left mid-meeting to get that water for you.

Now you're sitting at your desk rewatching it all in your head like the twist ending of a psychological thriller.

●・○・●・○・●・

You don’t see Hotch again until nearly 6 p.m., and when you do, he’s at his office door, jacket folded over one arm, clearly intending to head out.

You’re not even thinking when you get up and intercept him halfway down the hall.

He stops mid-step when he sees you. “Everything alright?”

“I… need you to clarify what’s going on.”

He exhales like someone who just got caught by airport security. “About what?”

You try to keep your expression neutral, but your heart is pounding like you’re about to ask your boss if he’s mad at you—because that’s exactly what you’re doing.

“You’ve been… weird,” you say finally. “With me. For months.”

Hotch tilts his head. “Weird.”

“You barely speak to me unless it’s about a case. You avoid sitting near me on the jet. I brought cookies in last week, and you took one, then put it back. Who does that?”

He has the audacity to look mildly horrified. “I didn’t mean to put it back.”

“That’s not the point.”

You’re spiralling and he knows it. You can tell by the way his jaw tightens like he’s trying not to laugh. You, on the other hand, are mortified.

“I just need to know,” you continue, quieter now. “If I did something wrong. If I’ve annoyed you somehow, or if you genuinely just… can’t stand me.”

There’s a beat of silence, just long enough to make you want to crawl into the floor tiles.

Hotch runs a hand down his face. “I don’t hate you.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I—” He pauses, and then, with all the charisma of a man giving a congressional hearing, says, “You make me nervous.”

You blink. “Sorry?”

“You… distract me,” he mutters, like he’s admitting to tax fraud. “I didn’t mean to be distant. I thought it would help.”

“Oh.” It comes out stupidly small, because your brain is too busy cataloguing every single interaction the two of you have ever had and realising, oh no, he was just emotionally repressed and completely, tragically bad at this.

You swallow. “So… you don’t think I’m annoying?”

“No,” he says, almost immediately, and then after a pause, “Not even a little. Not even when you talk over me in briefings.”

You almost laugh. “That’s because you talk like we’re in court.”

“And you talk like you’re arguing with your GPS.”

Now you do laugh, and something about the way his shoulders ease tells you this is maybe the most honest conversation you’ve ever had with him.

You look at him for a second longer, searching his face. “You’re really bad at this.”

“I know.”

“You could’ve just said you liked me.”

“I’m saying it now,” he says, softer.

And okay—maybe Hotch didn’t confess it with a rose in his teeth and violins playing in the background. Maybe it came out like a man filing paperwork for a broken heart. But it’s still something.

“You want to get coffee or something?” you ask.

He nods once. “Yeah. I do.”

You don’t know what this is yet. But it doesn’t feel like work. And this time, he didn’t glare— so, by your standards, that was basically a proposal.

Thanks for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[xinganhao]

cherry on top 🍒 mafia boss!seungcheol x reader. (4)

stories like this always end with a damsel in distress. except—this time around—you’re not the one who needs saving. previous chapter + masterlist.

📄 Minutes of strategic information meeting, filed by Kim Mingyu (Mafia Soldier, Logistics & Recon)

Date: ██████████ Location: Safehouse Omega-9, Undisclosed City Perimeter Time: 03:17 HRS

ATTENDEES:

Yoon Jeonghan (Underboss)

Lee Chan (Combat Unit Leader)

Chwe Hansol (Surveillance Division)

Kim Mingyu (Logistics & Recon; Recording Officer)

Civilian Target [REDACTED] (Unauthorized Attendee)

AGENDA:

Contingency Plan for Retrieval of Boss (S.Coups)

Chain of Command During Absence

External Threat Assessment

[BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

JEONGHAN: We go in through the east dock. Two snipers posted by 03:40. Chan leads breach. Hansol, your eyes stay on thermal—no improvisation this time.

HANSOL: I never improvise. My brilliance is structured.

CHAN: Can we not do this right now?

JEONGHAN: [ignoring them] Mingyu, once we get him out, you're on evac. Full blackout route. No trackers, no chatter.

MINGYU: Copy.

HANSOL: Any updates on who turned? Someone had to leak coordinates.

CHAN: There’s a list. We’ll handle it after we bring the boss home. One fire at a time.

[DOOR SLAMS OPEN. SOUND OF HIGH-HEELED FOOTSTEPS. SILENCE.]

CIVILIAN TARGET: You’re planning this without me?

JEONGHAN: [visibly tense] You weren’t invited.

CIVILIAN TARGET: He’s my belo—my boyfriend, Jeonghan. You think I’m just going to sit around while you play war games?

JEONGHAN: This isn’t a movie. You’re a civilian. You don’t belong in this room.

CIVILIAN TARGET: No, I’m the reason he still believes in soft things. I belong more than half the people at this table.

CHAN: She’s got a point.

JEONGHAN: Chan.

CHAN: I’m just saying. She’s not exactly fragile.

HANSOL: She did rewire one of my bugs with a paperclip. That was... not unimpressive.

JEONGHAN: [sighs] This isn’t about guts. It’s about blood.

CIVILIAN TARGET: Then you should know mine’s already on the line. Every second he’s gone, I feel it. And I’m done being sidelined. I’m not here to ask. I’m here to help.

[BEAT OF SILENCE. THEN—]

JEONGHAN: You get one job. And if you screw it up, I’ll personally drag you out.

CIVILIAN TARGET: Deal.

JEONGHAN: Hansol, give her the map. Mingyu, loop her in.

MINGYU: You’re going to need a comm. And a bulletproof vest.

CIVILIAN TARGET: Got both. And a knife in my boot.

CHAN: Okay, badass.

[MEETING CONTINUED UNDER LEVEL-2 SECRECY PROTOCOLS. TRANSCRIPT REDACTED. END OF MINUTES.]

FINAL NOTES:

Civilian Target formally added to Operation Homecoming roster.

Jeonghan authorized conditional field involvement.

Morale status: heightened.

Risk level: astronomically high.

🗂️ Operation Homecoming: Field Notes & Briefing Report, compiled by mafia underboss, Yoon Jeonghan

Clearance Level: Top Confidential Date Logged: ██████████ Location: Safehouse Omega-9

SUMMARY: Boss (S.Coups) was captured 48 hours ago following the receipt of a falsified emergency ping traced back to the civilian target’s encoded channel. The ping claimed she’d been injured and was en route to an undisclosed hospital in Sector D. According to surveillance logs, the Boss diverted course alone, abandoning standard security protocol. We believe he was intentionally isolated through signal jamming, then intercepted at the underpass beneath Route 14.

AUTOPSY OF THE TRAP:

Fake GPS tag mimicked civilian target’s bio-signal pattern

Voice distortion software replicated her distress call

EMP deployed upon vehicle arrival to disable tracking

Tactical unit waited with sedation-grade rounds

CURRENT LOCATION OF BOSS: Confirmed. Underground storage facility, formerly Syndicate-aligned. Defected cell now controls the zone. Reinforcements on site. Boss presumed alive—last thermal footage confirms faint movement.

INTERVENTION STRATEGY: OPERATION HOMECOMING

Phase One – Extraction:

Entry through east dock (03:40 HRS)

Chan leads breach unit, Hansol on thermal, Mingyu handling evac

All units silent channel only

Phase Two – Internal Sweep:

Civilian target assigned distraction and misdirection role (see below)

Two-minute window to locate and stabilize Boss

Phase Three – Extraction + Fade:

Mingyu initiates blackout route

Decoys deployed on west perimeter to delay pursuit

Rendezvous at Site Echo

CIVILIAN TARGET: PERFORMANCE LOG

Arrived wearing borrowed Kevlar and jeans tucked into combat boots. Asked if bulletproof vests same in women’s sizes. Did not wait for response.

Showed immediate enthusiasm, zero tactical finesse. Hansol gave her the map. She held it upside down. Twice.

Informed her she’d be working as the visual diversion. Her response: “Like bait?” Followed by: “Cool. I’m good at being annoying.”

Surprisingly effective. Created a loud enough ruckus on the perimeter to draw three guards off their posts. Managed to bluff her way past checkpoint by pretending to be a lost food delivery driver. Claimed she had gluten-free soba for a man named Kevin. There is no Kevin.

Still not sure how she pulled it off.

When Boss was found, he was semi-conscious but breathing. Whispered her name first.

END STATUS:

Boss retrieved.

Minimal casualties (1 injured – not fatal)

Facility compromised but not traced

Civilian target cried in the van. Then threatened to punch me for writing that down. I'm writing it down anyway.

FOOTNOTE — for Seungcheol’s eyes only: You’re reckless, stubborn, and impossible to reason with. But apparently, that’s your thing. You’re also luckier than most of us ever will be.

She didn’t sleep. Not once. Kept looking at every door like you might walk through it.

When you did, she didn’t even say anything. Just threw her arms around you like gravity stopped working.

Try not to make her go through that again.

– YJH

📱 Phone history log, filed by mafia soldier Chwe Hansol

Device: S.Coups' Personal Line (Encrypted Channel #017) Status: Outgoing Messages Only – Blocked by Signal Jammer Timestamp Range: ██:██–██:██ (Time of Abduction)

NOTE: Texts never reached intended recipient. Recovered during post-mission diagnostics. For archival purposes.

[01:12 AM] Where are you? They said you were hurt. I'm on my way.

[01:15 AM] Which hospital? No one's answering. This isn't funny. Call me.

[01:17 AM] Your signal keeps bouncing. Something's wrong. Stay where you are.

[01:21 AM] I swear to god if they laid a hand on you

[01:24 AM] No ambulance ever came.

[01:25 AM] This is a setup.

[01:27 AM] I'm so stupid. They used you. Fuck fuck fuck

[01:28 AM] I should've followed protocol. Should’ve sent Mingyu. Should’ve sent anyone but me.

[01:30 AM] If you get this, lock all the windows. Call Jeonghan. Stay put.

[01:34 AM] They knew I’d come for you.

[01:36 AM] This isn’t your fault.

[01:39 AM] Don’t come after me.

[01:41 AM] Love, beloved, please. Don’t try to save me.

[01:45 AM] You always do this—you throw yourself into fires you don't understand.

[01:49 AM] If they hurt you because of me, I’ll never forgive myself.

[01:52 AM] Tell Jeonghan to burn everything. Get out. Go far.

[01:54 AM] Forget me if you have to. Just live.

[02:01 AM] I love you. Please, please, please, don’t be stupid.

[END OF RECOVERED LOG]

📰 Excerpt from "The Ethics of Mafias: Love in the Line of Fire", a follow-up think piece by Xu Minghao

... If leadership within organized crime is already an ethical minefield, then love within it is something more volatile still: a paradox of vulnerability embedded in violence. New whispers surround the figure known only as S.Coups—the alleged mafia boss whose name, until recently, conjured images of discipline, domination, and an empire forged in precision.

Now, another narrative has emerged. One that reshapes how we understand not just the man, but the very myth he embodies.

According to rumors sourced from both within and outside the organization, S.Coups may have a romantic partner. Not a fellow operative, nor a political alliance. But a civilian. Someone unaffiliated and—crucially—untouched by the bloodied logic of the underworld.

If this is true, the implications are vast.

To love in his position is a risk. It is weakness, some would say. Yet others might argue that such love is the only thing capable of keeping a man like him from becoming monstrous. If the rumors are accurate, she is the reason he looks over his shoulder less. The reason he checks his own wrath. The reason his most trusted lieutenants have stopped fearing him and started worrying about him.

Love, here, is not a diversion. It is discipline.

And perhaps that is the most fascinating ethical twist of all: that this boss, so often theorized as either tyrant or savior, might be both—because of her.

Some say he texts her between assassinations. That he buys her gummy bears because she mentioned liking them once, months ago. That he has started folding her laundry and learning her aunt’s dietary restrictions. These are, of course, unconfirmed. They seem almost laughably mundane. But within the shadowed world of syndicates and secret wars, what could be more radical than tenderness?

Others claim that he was taken. There are now verified reports of a failed abduction and his eventual rescue. She was allegedly involved. They say she showed up unarmed, untrained, and utterly unafraid. They say she demanded to be part of the rescue mission. They say she was reckless, infuriating, and ultimately, instrumental.

And that when he saw her again, he wept.

To be loved, it turns out, is not always soft. Sometimes, it is brutal and inelegant and wildly inconvenient. But in the context of a life built on violence, to be loved is to be saved. Again and again. In the ways that matter.

Whether S.Coups is worthy of that love is not the question. The question is whether it has already changed him. Whether, in the end, the girl outside the syndicate might be the only thing real in a world made of smoke and mirrors.

And whether that, more than power or fear, will be his lasting legacy.

Mafia boss S.Coups is many things. Protector, manipulator. Brother, enemy, friend.

It seems we must add two more things:

Lover, and loved.

FIN. THANK YOU FOR READING CHERRY ON TOP!

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[4m0r1m]

Closed Doors

SUMMARY: everyone thinks House and the sweet, gentle doctor hate each other—but behind closed doors, they’re far more than colleagues. when Wilson accidentally catches them in a heated moment, the secret they’ve been hiding threatens to unravel.

WORD COUNT: 1,116 words

PAIRING: greg house x reader

WARNINGS: a little heated moment but nothing too bad.

The corridor buzzed with the low hum of activity—nurses ferrying charts, pagers beeping intermittently, and hushed discussions about patient vitals. Amid it all, one thing remained a constant: Gregory House limping through the hallway like a tornado in tweed, cane tapping rhythmically, sarcasm trailing in his wake.

This morning was no exception.

“Foreman, try not to kill the patient with your god complex before I get a proper look at his scan,” House barked, brushing past his team without so much as slowing down.

“Good morning to you too,” murmured the woman trailing behind them, her voice soft enough to be overlooked—but with a hint of dry amusement that rarely went unnoticed by House.

She was the anomaly of the hospital. The type of doctor who remembered birthdays, lent pens, and somehow always had a stash of calming tea in her drawer. To patients and colleagues alike, she was the kind face of Princeton-Plainsboro—except, of course, to House, who made a daily ritual of riling her up with snide remarks and questionable nicknames.

“She’s got the bedside manner of a fairy godmother and the IQ of a well-trained golden retriever,” he’d said once. Loudly. In front of Cuddy.

She’d smiled sweetly and replied, “You’re just mad I’ve never let you borrow a pen.”

What no one knew—what absolutely no one could guess—was that behind the sarcasm, the sideways glances, the deliberately loud arguments… House was very much involved with her.

Behind closed doors.

And she, for all her angelic exterior, could match him wit for wit when no one was around to witness it.

It had started six months ago. A late-night consult, an empty hallway, and an unexpected kiss that left them both stunned and more than a little breathless.

Since then, they’d perfected the art of secrecy. The stolen moments in diagnostics. The lingering touches disguised as accidental. The occasional post-lunch escape to House’s office under the guise of “arguing about lab results”.

To the rest of the hospital, especially Wilson, their dynamic was obvious: House was being House, and she, poor thing, was just the latest target of his relentless teasing.

Wilson had once even said, “Honestly, mate, I don’t know how she hasn’t stabbed you with a scalpel by now.”

House had only shrugged and replied, “Maybe she’s saving it for Christmas.”

It was Tuesday afternoon when Wilson started to suspect something wasn’t quite right.

He’d passed House’s office and caught the tail end of laughter—her laughter, rich and warm, the kind no one else at the hospital ever seemed to coax out of her. Curious, Wilson lingered near the door. The blinds were drawn, but he could hear movement. A low chuckle. Muffled voices.

And then silence.

Frowning, he knocked.

“House?” he called out.

No response.

He tried the door.

It was unlocked.

The scene that greeted him upon entry froze him mid-step.

House, jacket discarded and shirt rumpled, sat on the edge of his desk, locked in a very enthusiastic embrace with the very doctor Wilson had been certain loathed him. Her hands were tangled in House’s hair, his cane discarded somewhere near the filing cabinet, and their lips—

“Oh, God,” Wilson muttered, instantly averting his gaze and turning on his heel. “I—Nope. I did not see that. I did not see that.”

House, entirely unbothered, detached his mouth long enough to smirk, “Your timing is impeccable, as always.”

She, however, buried her face in House’s shoulder and let out an embarrassed groan. “We’re going to have to kill him, aren’t we?”

“Tempting,” House murmured, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “But I need him to cover for clinic duty.”

Later that evening, after the drama had settled and the blinds were open once more, Wilson sat across from House, arms folded.

“You’ve been sleeping with her?”

House leaned back, tossing a rubber ball against the wall. “Only in the literal sense about fifty percent of the time.”

“Does she know you’re emotionally stunted?”

“Shockingly, yes. Turns out sarcasm and emotional repression are her love languages.”

Wilson scrubbed a hand over his face. “I genuinely thought you hated each other.”

“Technically we do,” House replied, ever smug. “But we hate everyone else more. It’s romantic.”

The next day, whispers trickled through the hospital. Nothing concrete, just vague observations. The way House had taken his coffee from her hand without comment. The way she’d rolled her eyes, but not with annoyance—with familiarity.

Someone even claimed they’d seen her leaving his office with a tie in her hand.

Of course, nothing was confirmed. Nothing could be.

House still insulted her in front of patients.

She still told him to sod off when he pushed her buttons in diagnostics.

But if you looked closely—really closely—you’d catch the smallest things.

The way her eyes lingered a moment too long.

The way his smirk softened when he thought no one was watching.

And the way she always knocked twice before entering his office.

Even though it was never locked.

A/N: I guys i hope you like this one!! I actually had it in my drafts and just didin't post it. This is a little different for what I usually write but i still hope people from other fandoms like it!!

[daxisyzz]

Close encounters

Pairings: avenger!bucky barnes × avenger!reader

Summary: On an undercover mission, you and Bucky pose as a married couple to infiltrate an illegal weapons auction—but when a stolen kiss becomes part of the plan, the line between duty and desire starts to blur.

Word count: 1.2k+

Tags: Flirty Bucky, fight sequence, undercover mission, teasing, kissing.

A/n: I had posted a grumpy Bucky fic but hated it. So I deleted it. I think I like this better. If u ever want grumpy Bucky lemme know. Requests are open. Enjoyyyy!!

Part 2- Double-Edged

The mission was simple: extract intel from a black-market arms dealer, stay undetected, and get out before things went sideways. Simple—until Steve decided to pair you with James Buchanan Barnes.

You stepped out of the limo, adjusting your dress as you scanned the sketchy building for exits and weak points. Bucky stepped out after you, his sharp gaze sweeping over the area before turning toward you. He leaned down, voice low.

“You clean up nice, doll,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear as he adjusted the clasp of your necklace. His fingers skimmed the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your pulse picked up.

“Try to focus, Barnes. We have a job to do.”

“I am focused,” he said, smirking.

“On my wife.”You ignored him.

The mission had led you both to an underground auction, where dangerous people gathered to bid on illegal weapons. Your cover: a wealthy couple looking to expand their business.

The plan: Bucky would distract the seller while you slipped into a secure backroom to steal classified files.But first, you had to sell the act.

As you entered the venue, Bucky’s hand found the small of your back, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against your dress. The casual possessiveness of it made your breath hitch—just for a second.

“Relax, doll,” he murmured, voice smooth as ever.

“Gotta make it look real.”You forced yourself to ignore the warmth of his touch, keeping your focus on the room instead.

“Just don’t overdo it, Barnes.”

He smirked. “Too late.”

You took your seats near the auction stage, scanning the crowd for your target. Anton Markov sat in a private booth, surrounded by bodyguards.You turned to Bucky.

“I’ll need five minutes alone in that backroom.”His gaze flickered with something unreadable.

“Then we’ll get you five minutes.”

The auctioneer began presenting rare weapons, but you weren’t paying attention. You were focused on Markov, waiting for an opening.Bucky, however, was focused on you.

You wore a satin dress that fit in all the right places. The ring Steve had made you both wear to sell the act glinted under the chandelier’s warm glow, bringing a smirk to Bucky’s face.

“Stop staring,” you muttered.

“I’m your husband,” he said, leaning in.

“Gotta make it look real.”You shot him a glare.

“You’re enjoying this.”His lips twitched.

“A little.”

Your eyes flicked back to the target as he finally left his booth, heading toward the bar. Now was your chance.You stood, brushing a hand over Bucky’s thigh as you did. The touch was fleeting, unintentional—except for the way he tensed ever so slightly.

“I’ll be back, honey,” you said, keeping up the act.

“Wait for my signal,” you murmured before slipping away.

You moved stealthily through the crowd, unnoticed by the guards.The backroom was locked, but you made quick work of it with your hairpin, slipping inside. Rows of servers lined the walls, buzzing with encrypted data. You approached the main computer, pulling up the classified files. Plugging in a drive, you watched the transfer bar crawl forward. Almost there…

Then—footsteps.

Your stomach dropped. You barely had time to pull your gun from the thigh holster beneath your dress before the door opened.Two guards stepped in.

“Boss said to check the servers,” one muttered.

You held your breath, staying out of their line of sight. The download wasn’t complete. If they noticed…

Before you could form a plan, the door burst open again—and in walked Bucky. His scowl was murderous, jaw clenched tight.He moved fast. One guard barely had time to react before Bucky knocked him out cold. The second reached for his gun, but Bucky grabbed his wrist, twisting until there was a sickening crack.The room fell silent.You exhaled.

“That was not the plan,” you said, stepping out.

“They got suspicious,” Bucky replied, scanning the monitors.

“Had to improvise.”You rolled your eyes.

“You just wanted to be dramatic.”

“Did it impress you?”You ignored him, yanking the drive free just as an alarm blared.

“Time to go.”

Security flooded the halls. Your only escape? A side door leading to a back alley. You sprinted toward it, but a guard rounded the corner—gun raised.

Before you could react, Bucky grabbed you by the waist, spinning you so your back hit the wall, his body shielding yours. His hands found your face, and then—His lips crashed against yours.

Your mind blanked.

He kissed you slowly, deliberately, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be.It took a second to register what was happening. Then your hands gripped the lapels of his suit, the fabric creasing under your tight hold as you kissed him back.A deep sound rumbled from his throat—something between a groan and a satisfied hum.

The guard hesitated, taking you for just another couple sneaking a moment away from the bustling crowd.The second the guard moved on, Bucky pulled away, eyes dark with something unreadable.You swallowed hard.

“What the hell was that?”

“Had to make it convincing,” he said smoothly.

You didn’t get a chance to argue before more guards closed in. Bucky grabbed your hand, pulling you down the hall and out the door.By the time you reached the safe house, your heart was still racing—but not from the escape.

Inside, the chaos of the mission faded into a quiet that felt both relieving and… unsettlingly intimate. You dropped onto a worn couch, still feeling the buzz of adrenaline, while Bucky leaned against the table, a roguish grin playing on his lips.

“Not bad for a ‘just undercover’ kiss,” he said lightly, eyes dancing as he regarded you.

You shifted uncomfortably, trying to mask the quickened beat of your pulse. “That was a necessity, Barnes. Don’t read more into it than you have to.”Bucky stepped closer, his tone teasing.

“Oh, come on. I got a kiss out of you. It was… unexpected, sure, but pretty damn effective.”

You rolled your eyes, a small, involuntary smile tugging at your lips despite your best efforts. “Effective for the mission, maybe. I didn’t exactly plan on playing into any romantic script.”

He brushed a hand lightly along your arm, the contact sending an undeniable shiver through you. “Maybe you didn’t plan it, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me want to see more of that fire—even if you’re all business most of the time.”

You tried to keep your tone steady, though your cheeks betrayed you. “Barnes, you’re unbelievable. One minute we’re dodging guards, the next you’re flirting like we’re off-duty.”

“Off-duty or not, you did kiss me back,” he replied with a wink. “And honestly, that might just be worth the risk.”

For a long moment, you stared at him, flustered and momentarily at a loss for words. Finally, you cleared your throat. “Maybe. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m here to get the job done—nothing more.”

Bucky’s smile softened, though the playful glint in his eyes remained. “Sure, doll. But if you ever do decide to let a little distraction in, I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

You let out a reluctant laugh, shaking your head. “Keep dreaming, Barnes. Just stick to the mission next time.”He chuckled, leaning in just enough that you felt the warmth of his breath.

“No promises,” he murmured.

“After all, I like finding ways to keep things interesting.”

In that charged, easy moment, the safe house became more than just a hideout. It became a space where even a well-timed kiss could blur the lines between duty and desire.

[chadobi]

“Just Another Night in the Lab”

Bayverse Donatello x Reader

I’m little stressed because it’s my first post so i hope you will enjoy this! Lov u guys!

———————————————————

The soft hum of Donnie’s equipment buzzed in the background like a familiar lullaby. Screens flickered gently around the darkened corners of the lab, casting pools of pale blue light over scattered tools, schematics, half-built gadgets, and a lone cup of cold coffee.

You were sitting on the counter, swinging your legs back and forth rhythmically while typing something on your tablet — cross-referencing files Donnie had asked for. Your brow was furrowed, and your hair was slightly tousled from hours in the lair. You looked… normal. Comfortable. Like you belonged there.

Donnie glanced up from his microscope for what must’ve been the fifth time in three minutes.

He tried to be subtle about it, eyes flicking toward you, then quickly away when he caught himself staring again. His heart was doing that annoying stutter thing it had started doing around you lately — like it didn’t know how to beat properly when you were nearby

You didn’t notice. Or maybe you did. Either way, you didn’t say anything.

“Hey,” you asked softly, looking over. “Do you want me to sort these files alphabetically or by scan frequency?”

Donnie blinked. The question was simple, but it took a second longer than usual to register. He was distracted by how your voice always sounded a little softer in the lab — like it didn’t want to disturb the quiet magic of his world.

“Uh… scan frequency,” he said quickly. “Yeah. That makes more sense for the pattern we’re trying to isolate.”

You nodded and went right back to it, completely unaware that Donnie’s brain had short-circuited because your smile had lingered for half a second too long.

⸻

He returned to his microscope. Or at least pretended to. Every nerve in his body was suddenly tuned to you — your breath, your tiny sounds of concentration, the occasional tap of your stylus on glass. You weren’t even doing anything particularly special. Just helping. Just being here.

And that’s when it hit him.

You weren’t extraordinary in some loud, showy way. You didn’t try to impress him. You didn’t fawn over his inventions or stroke his ego. You simply showed up. Sat beside him. Helped when he needed it. Called him out when he got too lost in his own head. You gave your time freely — and not to the tech genius or the mutant, but to Donatello.

And God, he loved you for it.

The realization landed like a circuit overload — silent, undeniable, irreversible. His heart didn’t just flutter this time. It ached. In the best way.

He looked over again.

You had your legs crossed now, fingers flying across the screen. There was a little smudge of ink on your cheek from where you must’ve rubbed it earlier. You were mumbling something under your breath. A calculation, maybe.

And he was so gone

“Y/N?” he said quietly.

You looked up, tablet still in hand. “Yeah?”

His throat went dry. He had a million smart things to say and not a single one made it to his mouth. So instead, he took a breath, reached for a clean cloth, and walked toward you.

“There’s a mark,” he murmured, gently brushing the smudge from your cheek with the cloth.

You froze — just for a second — then relaxed under his touch. “Oh. Thanks,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

His hand lingered for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

Your eyes met.

The room was silent except for the faint hum of the lab. The moment stretched — warm, fragile, perfect.

And then you smiled. That quiet, honest smile that had wrecked him from the very beginning.

“What?” you asked, teasingly. “Do I have another smudge?

“No,” he whispered. “I just… I’m glad you’re here.”

Your smile softened. “Me too, Donnie.”

He didn’t kiss you that night. He didn’t need to.

Because in that one small, quiet moment —

You knew.

And so did he.

[justevelynnnn]

sudden love.

night crawler x afab!reader (NSFW)

Warnings: Lots of smut in the second half of this…, PiV, oral s//x, reader is written as a female as well as being chubbier, slightly mentions of reader being insecure, mention of reader being tipsy, a bit of profanity at the end

Summary: Here’s what happens when you start working for the x-men as an intern and you run into a blue demon man 💙

Note: Sorry it’s been a million years since i posted but i just got lazy🙁😕😕😕 anyways live, laugh, nightcrawler

Part 2

You wondered how you got here.

In bed, with the one and only Kurt Wagner. A man who was so focused on being holy and pure…under you, fully naked and eagerly whining. His golden eyes bore into yours as you bounced on him. His tail wrapped around your waist tight. Fingers on each side squishing your thighs…

It might’ve started when you started working for the X-men as an intern. Of course, you first had to pledge to neverrrr share any big secrets you learned or plans shared during meetings. Then you got settled. You had a little office next to Jean Grays’s. Your job was the usual boring intern stuff…following scott around and organizing files and pouring coffee. By week 4, you actually memorized all the x-men’s coffee orders.

Jean Gray liked lattes with a bit of extra sugar. Scott Summers and Logan liked theirs dark. Gross. Morph’s fluctuated, sometimes they wanted a mocha sometimes also dark. Beast liked his coffee extra sugary…

At the end of the day, you didn’t want to necessarily be an X-man. You really just needed some type of job that would except mutants. But they all had a lot of knowledge to share, and you never turned down an opportunity to listen and gain some wisdom.

It wasn’t until you were in charge of setting the danger room schedule when you met him. Did he catch you off guard bamfing behind you? Maybe. Did you feel horrible after especially seeing his tail droop? Yup.

You quickly scrambled to apologize.

“I’m so sorry! You just caught me off guard..!” You say watching him shake his head.

“Oh, it’s fine. I get it a lot. I’m blue..covered in fur…bright yellow eyes…” He says in a nonchalant tone looking at the ground. He also had this strong german accent. He also was possible being sarcastic…

And before you could apologize again he interrupted by introducing himself. His name was Kurt Wagner, or Nightcrawler. Fitting…

You’ve seen him around but mainly in the danger room flipping and bamfing around. He was also ridiculously flexible and you think he has a yoga class? He’s also said to be very devoted to his faith. You then noticed his shiny cross necklace and his golden rosary.

You told him your name and he mentioned seeing you around himself. A sweet little compliment was sprinkled in you guys small talk and then he was gone quicker than he showed up. Though, you still felt bad for your initial reaction to him later that day.

The next time you saw him was a week later in the evening. You just were sitting there reading a book, decompressing after a long day of organizing papers and sending emails, when suddenly BAMF! and now here is Nightcrawler startling you yet again.

“GEEZ!” You shout but not really at him, also dropping your book.

“Am I really that ugly?” Kurt jokes pouting a bit as he perched on the coffee table he landed on.

“No! Just you-“

“Ohhh, it’s fine..i get it..”

He’s clearly joking with you again so you laugh bit. You thank him as he hands you your book and sits next to you. You quietly take in small details of him like his pointed ears or his tail or even the slight indication of pupils in his eyes as he looked at you.

Insert more small talk here and then he’s gone again.

You figured he either really was curious about you or was bored. The idea of him having some crush never crossed your mind. But this was the Nightcrawler we’re talking about! He could have any girl, mutant or human, so why choose an intern? Especially one like you with your thick thighs and plump stomach.

But as time went on, he started to find you daily. He found any reason to speak to you and anything to talk about. Inviting you on evening strolls or even his bible studies which he didn’t mind if you went or not. He taught you how to cook german dishes once and you showed him your favorite hiding spot in the mansion.

It really felt like a spark started. He really grew on you. He was funny, sweet, warm…

His compliments became more frequent too, each one making you blush even more.

Soft touches here and there..

Hugs that lasted longer than the ones before…

Prolonged eye contact…

Then months later the topic of relationships came up. It was embarrassing to admit but you told him you never had one… yet you were a bit shocked to learn he’s had a few back in his day.

“But you’re…?”

“Catholic. I know.”

“And you even..?”

He nods but then smirks. “I was a tad libidinous before…now i just want to…settle. Perhaps even find my soulmate.”

You blush as he stares into your soul on the soulmate part. Could he be referring to..you?

Your time as an intern was wrapping up but everyone loved you so much you just decided to stay. So, you went full time which means more time for you and Kurt to bond. You wondered what they could all mean… his stolen glances and the way he touched you sometimes…

“He likes you.”

“What?!” You say turning around, wide eyed at Jean one evening. Kurt had just bamfed away, but was she standing there the whole time???

“I said, he likes you…a lot.” She smirks. “I know how he gets when he’s in love y’know..i’ve known him for a while.”

“..Love?” You say quietly.

“You’re different too. He’s nervous to say anything.” She slowly comes up next to you and smiles. “But, i can tell you like him a lot too…”

You just blush. Was it really that obvious the whole time?

Could it really be true?

Then, one evening after watching the sunset on the roof and a deep conversation later you two were sharing a bottle of wine. In his words, “It’s fine to indulge in sin sometimes, no?” Probably joking again…

He was big on his faith, for sure. He says it saved him and you could tell. His devotion was admirable.

After the first glass, you already really opened up. Still in your work clothes, but feeling more confident and loose. And by the second, you were a giggling mess. Anything Kurt said either made you blush or laugh. You never felt so alive or comfortable in your skin.

“I wish this could last forever, y’know? This moment…” You sigh as the sun sets. It’s getting darker, the moon getting brighter..stars shining.

“Ja…this was a pretty one. This sunset. ” He agrees with you and scooted closer. “But not as pretty as you, dear.”

“You’re a charmer Kurt…but I dunno…sometimes I wonder why you chose me to spend all your free time with. Like, me specifically. It’s not like I’m one of your gorgeous fan girls..” You play with the hem of your button down vest, it’s untucked now a sign of you being more comfortable.

Kurt doesn’t say anything for a bit. It makes you nervous. So nervous you accidentally pulled a few threads from your vest. You weren’t looking for pity, no. You were genuinely curious. He’s famous, well known. In great shape. Strong morals… It just really bewildered you.

Were you insecure…? Maybe just a bit..who isn’t? You try everyday to be more confident. You were working for the x-men for crying out loud! It was a big deal. But sometimes, you wished you were a bit..different. Slimmer, more graceful even.

“Y/n….” He said finally. It was a soft tone, softer than usual. Gentle…

You don’t say anything but you just look into his eyes.

“I’ve never felt so strongly for a woman before..for anyone before. You truly don’t realize how beautiful you are. Inside and out. There is something magnetic about you that draws me to you…” He takes your hand and kisses it. Your heart explodes. No one has ever talked you like this before.

“Kurt…”

“I’ve been thinking about asking for a while…getting to know you for these past several months has been memorable. I feel we’re forming a strong connection. One that can last is years…y/n, would I…be wrong to ask you to be mine?”

Everything happened so quickly next.

You drunkenly kissed him after he asked you that. In your head that was an answer. You immediately regretted it, feeling you stepped out of line but before you could apologize he kissed you right back. And passionately. Like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do. It was getting dark now and bit chilly honestly but the heat of his body against yours kept you warm enough.

Then instead of a hard roof, you were suddenly on a softer surface. A bed.

Kurt’s bed. In Kurt’s room.

“Is it okay?” He asked panting as he pulled back and saw you realize what had happened. “Being here..I mean..”

“Are we gonna…?” You say also panting.

“Do you want to?”

You think for a moment. Were you really going to lose your virginity to an Xman?

He already has a condom in hand by the time you nod. He pulls off his shirt exposing his furry toned torso. He softly kisses you again and you hum. You wondered if it was the alcohol or the way his hands felt on your body was making you feel so good. You allowed him to slowly take off your clothes. Piece by piece.

He was gentle with removing everything, but carelessly threw them on the ground behind him once it was off.

He stopped admired you once you were fully undressed. It made you want to hide behind your hands. The pure look of lust he had in his eyes…eyes that glistened at this point.

He traced a finger along your curves and folds, stopping to kiss some parts. You never felt this way before. It was like he was worshiping you.

He knew you were inexperienced so he took his time. When he was between your legs getting you ready he was ever so tender. He fingered you ever so slowly. Whispering praises as you took his finger because with him one was honestly enough. Then his head was between your thighs as he licked your folds delicately as well, savoring each swipe of his tongue. He had a way of making your legs shake, your back bend and you to sing his name.

When he felt you were ready for him he ever so teasingly slow rolled the condom on and inched slowly inside of you. Of course he made sure you were ready before he started to enter you. It did hurt a bit at first, like an intense stretch with some pressure. It definitely took a while especially given..his size.

But he was patient, and gentle and understanding.

Then he started thrusting. And thrusting. And groaning and moaning and gripping and kissing. The whole bed moved as the two of you moved. He thrusted slowly but deeply, pulling out completely and thrusting his whole length back inside you.

At some point your eyes were rolling to the back of your head. You swore you saw heaven as he hit a spot on the inside.

Every part of you burned hot with pleasure. You barely registered your own orgasm several minutes later and he licked a spot he bit on your neck moments before. He didn’t finish long after, plopping next to you panting. His tail laid across you on purpose. He then smiled goofily at you like he didn’t just have you under him seeing star’s minutes ago.

Your skin was sticky and your legs ached.

But you weren’t done.

You flipped him over and climbed on top of him. He was stunned, but let you as he was once again mesmerized by your nude body. He was a sucker for breasts.

You felt dominant as you straddles him with your thick thighs, positioned him with your entrance and slowly sunk down. Again, it was a stretch at first. Kurt was definitely blessed in the manhood department, but this was a position you knew about from before and you knew it was for more experienced people. Yet, it could’ve been the liquid courage too.

As you started to move, Kurt unraveled. That confident horny man from an hour ago? The one who had you nearly cumming in his mouth from slow flicks with his tongue? Or, hell, a single wink after some dirty joke?

Well, now he’s ready to bust himself from any simple moment you make. His hands rest in the sides of your hips as he helped you but you still did most of the work. Now slightly bouncing more and quicker after growing more confident.

This is who you thought Kurt to be. It’s nice to see this shy and submissive version of him. He tilted his head back as you wiggle against his pelvis. You can see his Adam’s apple bob as he held back.

It was mesmerizing to watch him come undone too. The way his mouth was parted, intoxicating noises escaping him. The way his dark hair stuck to his damp fur on his forehead. The way his cheeks darkened ever so slightly from being dominated…

It wasn’t long before he came again. His moans louder this time. Even drawing out your name.

You laid on top of him, knees even more achey than before, heart pumping so hard you swore he could feel it or even hear it.

You two stayed like that for a while. This time done for real. Both exhausted but utterly satisfied.

Kurt eventually helped clean up. He wiped you gently with a damp towel and gave you an oversized shirt to wear to cover up. Even getting you water after you used his bathroom.

“That was…hm..” Kurt said quietly laying next to you once everything was cleaned.

“It was fucking incredible.” You responded quietly. Inside you kept asking yourself…how did this happen?

“..Ja…” He sighs. “Wanna make this a weekly event?”

And after this? How could one not not agree?

[eklaysea]

This is my favorite pano, a rectilinear panorama requiring 34 images stitched in 2 rows of 17 each. I took it with a Nikon D200 and waited 6 months from the first idea of this shot for the Colony to fix its neon.

There's a half-size download and a full-resolution version, which would easily print to 7 feet or more.

The aforementioned downloads are at the top of my home page: https://ccmedia.eklaysea.com/

All posts have 2 Downloads—JPEG only or a Zip with the JPEG & RAW file—except for Panoramas which only contain zips of the full-size JPEG.

This work and the other 870+ works on my site are Licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 (CC BY)

Enjoy!

Ek