#I'm in the process of letting go and moving to another place too so this one just... resonates with my soul. deeply.

[yokohamapound]

Ooh, a new BSD blog! :D How about the reactions of Dazai, Ranpo, Chuuya, Akutagawa and Fyodor when they see their female S/O in fancy attire for the first time? Like if they're going to some formal events together as a couple.

Hmm, it's almost like you knew I am addicted to fancy clothes...this sent me on a deep dive through my extensive Pinterest board.

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Edogawa Ranpo, Nakahara Chuuya, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Fyodor Dostoevsky

Contents: fem!reader, possessive, controlling Fyodor

Dazai Osamu

Dazai is the type of man to enjoy seeing you in everything you wear, especially when you're puttering around the apartment in just one of his his shirts, but seeing you in formalwear is something special.

Maybe it's another award ceremony for the Armed Detective Agency, a fancy gala that requires you to wear something more upscale than business casual. Dazai has a suit he can fall back on—probably something in a dark blue or a shade of camel, because black reminds him too much of his time in the Port Mafia.

He's waiting in the living room for you to come out of the bedroom, periodically whining for you to come out of the bedroom and pay attention to him.

"I'm going to die of neglect out here," he calls forlornly. "And I always wanted us to die togeth—"

The door slides open, and Dazai cuts off his wailing, looking over his shoulder. There's a moment of silence—yes, actual silence from Dazai—as his gaze moves slowly up your legs, his eyes getting progressively wider as he takes in the slinky little number clinging to your curves, how the neckline reveals the arch of your throat. Your make-up, those smoky eyes and glossy lips...

"I don't want to go," he blurts, shuffling over on his knees and wrapping his arms around your waist. "Let's stay home. I'll pour you sake and feed you grapes."

Edogawa Ranpo

Ranpo doesn't tend to make a big deal about what you wear. He notices of course, because he notices everything, but he'll only comment if you're wearing something particularly cute or if he's deduced something interesting from your choice of attire, which usually goes like:

"Are you wearing that skirt 'cause you wanted me to notice you waxed your legs?"

"Ranpo, even if you know something, it doesn't mean you have to say it."

"What? You wanted me to notice and I'm noticing. It's not my fault you're not subtle," he says, grinning around his lollipop.

"Right, because I'm the one that's not subtle."

He's fiddling with his tie as the pair of you get ready for a formal event thrown in the ADA's honour (normally he'd complain about going to something so boring, but Fukuzawa promised him there'd be a buffet and lots of people wanting to praise him) and complaining that he can't tie it and he doesn't want to wear it.

"Oh, you big baby," you chide playfully, sauntering out of the bedroom, heels clicking as you fix one of your earrings in place "You wear a tie every day."

Taking the ends of the tie, you start to weave it into a simple Windsor knot, glancing up to see Ranpo gawking at you, his pretty green eyes wide open. For once, his brain isn't processing information at warp speed. It's crickets in there, like he's short-circuited.

"That good, huh?" you ask, tightening his tie. "No deductions, smart boy?"

"Uh..." Ranpo falters a bit as you draw him closer by his carefully knotted tie. "Nope."

You give him a kiss and release him. He's grinning like a Cheshire Cat as he follows you to the door.

"Hey, is there room for snacks in your clutch?"

Nakahara Chuuya

If you're Chuuya's girl, you'll never want for the finer things in life, but that first, first time he sees you all dolled up is very memorable. Even if you have cash of your own, he would have handed you his shiny black card, pressing it into your hand with a kiss and a grin.

"Let me treat ya. Don't even look at the prices."

After some credit card BDSM—that plastic rectangle got used and abused and it liked it—you came back to the penthouse laden with shopping bags, your hair freshly styled, a mani pedi, and a facial. By the time Chuuya comes to pick you up, you're dolled up to the nines.

Chuuya walks in, calling out for you, only to stop dead in his tracks when he sees you. You've got your back to him, carefully fixing the edge of your lipstick in the vanity mirror, when you spot his reflection.

"Hey, babe, almost ready," you say, turning to face him.

A slow grin breaks out across Chuuya's face. He reaches up and pushes his hat back, as if to see you better, his blue eyes wide.

"Fuck me, doll," he says, his voice coming out rough. "You look incredible..."

You make a show of checking your beautiful antique watch. "I don't think we have time for that right now, but when we get home..."

Chuuya lets out a groan, pulling you toward him by the hips. You won't let him smudge your fresh lipstick, so he leaves a love bite on your throat instead, like a promise for later.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Akutagawa swears by formalwear (even if his taste in formalwear is over a century out of date), so he's no stranger to being suited and booted. Perhaps the two of you have been tasked to infiltrate a high society soiree as part of Mori's plans, or perhaps you are his undercover bodyguards while he attends one himself.

Akutagawa dislikes clothes shopping, so he flatly refused to accompany you to buy a dress for the occasion. This is probably for the best. It's a lot less stressful to shop with Gin and Higuchi than it is with an irritable, murderous Ryuunosuke dogging your heels and glaring daggers at the sales assistant.

Which is to say, he has no idea what you are wearing until you show up to the gala. He's watching Mori from near the wall, his hands thrust into the pockets of his long black coat. Disinterested.

His pale grey eyes sweep over you at first, mistaking you for another of the wealthy partygoers.

Then they snap back, going wide. Akutagawa stands there as if he's been locked into place as you saunter over to join him, a flute of champagne in each hand.

The way the dress moves, how it flows or clings to the various planes and curves of your body, how you move while you wear it, as if you've become a new, elevated version of yourself.

"Sorry I'm late," you say, handing him a champagne flute. He's surprised enough to take it without muttering that he doesn't like champagne. "The boss did say to arrive separately."

"...what are you wearing?" he finally manages to say. "You look—"

"Ridiculous? Yeah, I know, but this is what we have to wear to these stupid things. I can't even get away with hiding a gun under this thing."

"No—"

Too late, you've already moved away toward the buffet to grab a couple of hors d'oeuvres for you and him. Akutagawa finds his voice a little too late.

"You don't look ridiculous."

Fyodor Dostoevsky

I can guarantee with 100% certainty that Fyodor knows exactly what you're wearing, because he took you to the exclusive boutique in order to purchase it—after he had you model several dozen gowns for his appreciation and approval. He had to spend all that money he stole from the Guild on something, after all, so there were shoes and jewellery into the bargain.

There are staff to pamper you: a hairstylist, a nail tech, and a make-up artist, all under strict orders not to speak to you or dare look you in the eye as they primp and doll you up.

"Doll" being the operative word, because you look like a porcelain doll by the time they're done with you.

Airy layers float around you as you carefully pick your way down the sweeping staircase, ankles wobbling in your slightly-too-high heels, giving you that vulnerable, fawnish air that Fyodor likes so much.

He stands at the bottom of the stairs, cool violet eyes watching every tentative step. His masterpiece is complete.

"Myshka," he purrs at the sight of you. "You look perfect."

He offers you his hand, cold fingers closing around yours as you stumble off the very last step and into his arms. He makes a soft, slightly mocking sound of amusement in the back of his throat.

"Careful, darling," he chides, his hand settling firmly, possessively in the small of your back. "I can't have you falling for anyone but me."

The humour carries a note of truth. Fyodor's finger traces along the line of your jaw, curling beneath your chin and tipping your face up toward his. His breath ghosts over your lips.

"I will have to dress you this way more often."

AO3 | Other Blogs: Bleach | BNHA | Naruto | JJK

[savage-rhi]

I'm very much a, "fuck yeah and fuck you, I don't need validation! I'm me, cunts!" kinda fella, but sometimes I could use support.

[sovamurka]

Where jasmine blooms, my beloved <3 😭

[tbaluver]

Hiii! If it's okay can I request reader pranking LADS men with 'lets breakup' just to see their reaction? ;D

Break Up Prank - The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, caleb x reader genre/tags: angsty w/ comfort-ish at the end a/n: hihi anonnie ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i ened up writing this more angsty mainly bc i just think they would be devasted if you ever wanted to leave them .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. anyways i hope this was alright and that you enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

“This bread should go well with the chocolate milk. Would you like to try?” He asks, offering it to you with a soft smile.

You take a deep breath, keeping your voice as steady as possible. “I think we should break up.” The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret it instantly. You watched his eyes widen and his entire body freeze. His hands, still holding the bread midair, slowly lowers.

“what?” He says weakly, trying to process what’s happening. “I..I don't get it.” His smile slowly disappears, a frown replacing it instead. His eyes search yours desperately to find any clue, any hints to find an answer. “Did I do something wrong?” He stammered, his gaze shifting downward as his heart sank all the way down to his body.

You don’t think you can go further with this prank any longer, feeling immediately guilty. “I was just kidding! It’s a prank, Xavier,” You say, trying to lighten the mood but yet the tension in the air still remains.

He doesn’t move, his eyes are uncertain, flicking between you and his plate. “Are you sure?” His voice was quiet, trying to convince himself it was a joke but a part of him still thought otherwise. “If there is something wrong, if there’s anything I can do-” He trails off but before he can say anything more, you rush to his side, your arms wrapping around him tightly.

“I'm so sorry, Xavier. I shouldn't have done that. Tara and I saw it online, and I thought it would be funny. I promise I love you, and I would never want to leave you.” For a while, he doesn’t respond, but slowly, he pulls you closer, burying his face into your neck. His breath is a little shaky, but you feel his shoulders relax just a little.

“I didn't want to lose you,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin. His hair tickles your neck and you can feel the soft sigh of relief as the tension leaves his body.

“Do you still want to eat your snacks?” you pull away slightly, cupping his face but he shakes his head. His arms tighten around you as he buries himself back into your neck.

“Let's just stay like this for a while,” He murmurs, his voice still slightly shaky. His appetite has vanished entirely, replaced by a need for comfort and that you’re both going to be okay. He should’ve never given bread another chance.

Zayne:

“You shouldn’t sit like that. It can lead to lower back discomfort." Zayne says softly, his hands carefully help you adjust your position as he places a pillow behind your head.

“I don't think this is working out. I think we should end this.” You kept your tone flat, not a hint of a smile or a crack of a laugh to give away the joke. The air around you both goes still, and Zayne stops mid-sentence on his lecture for your posture and health. His throat goes dry while his eyes narrow as if trying to process what you’ve said.

There was an awkward silence between you both until he cleared his throat, adjusting his tie as if it were the only thing he could focus on to keep himself together. “May I ask where this is coming from, my love?” His nickname for you came into a hushed whisper, unsure if he could even use that name at this moment.

“Can we please talk it out? If it’s my nagging that’s become too much, then I’ll stop..my only intention is to look after you.” He’s trying to keep his composure, but you can hear the hurt in his words. “If there's anything else I've done or said, anything I can fix together with you.. I promise-”

You can feel the guilt creeping in each time he speaks. You couldn’t ignore how it affected you and how he was so serious and vulnerable. This prank has gone a little too far, and the laughter you held back was now gone. ”Zayne, wait! I'm so sorry it was just a prank!” You rushed, “I thought it would be funny..I saw this video online..”

Zayne's eyes flutter close as he sighs heavily. “Forgive me..I forgot I'm dating a comedian,” He mutters under his breath, a half smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He shakes his head, a slow exhale escapes past his lips. “I'm glad everything’s alright. May I?” He steps closer to you, his arm outstretched into an embrace. But before you can say anything else, he playfully flicks your forehead.

“Hey!” You protest, but you can feel the soft chuckle rumble in his chest as you pull into his embrace. His breath tickles your skin, and you can’t help but smile, knowing how much loved you are.

“I only ask for you not to prank me like that again. I'm already growing enough white hairs because of you.”

Rafayel:

You instantly regretted ever finishing that sentence.

You watched the way the light in his eyes disappear. His heart seemed to crack, threatening to shatter into a million pieces as the pain washed over his face.

His nebula eyes looked at you in disbelief, unable to comprehend the words that just left your lips were true. The brush in his hand slipped from his fingers as his whole body went limp. His lips trembled, fighting back the flood of emotions threatening to break through.

“I-was it....do you really want that?” His voice shook, the words barely escaping past his lips. His chest tightened, hoping he didn’t hear the answer he dreads. “Was there something I’ve done, cutie?” His gaze drops, his lips pursing as he tries to recall something, anything, that would explain what he did wrong. “I can do better..we can work it out together, yeah? Tell me what’s wrong..” His eyes were pleading, desperate.

You could see the depth of his pain and the way he blamed himself, even though you knew that this was just a prank. It broke your heart, and you couldn’t keep going, the guilt was suffocating enough. “Raf, no! You did nothing wrong. It was just a prank!”

His mouth fell open in shock. “...what?” His voice was weak, a soft gasp escaping him as he dramatically collapsed back onto the couch. “Pranks are supposed to be funny! That wasn’t funny!” He groaned, relief flooding through him. “Dun ever do that to me again, hmph..” He mumbles, his hand still over his face as he tries to collect himself. “Hold me..”

He lets you pull him into your arms, his cheek pressing into your shoulder, the weight of his body finally relaxing as he feels you close. He let out a deep breath as if he were holding it in for too long. “I thought my heart stopped for a moment, cutie..” He murmurs, “Promise me we’ll work through everything?”

Sylus:

“Sweetie-” Sylus’s voice echoes at the front door. You were already in the living room, arms crossed, while you tried to keep your face unreadable.

“We should break up.” You say flatly.

He flinched at the sudden words. The small box he had wanted to surprise you with was clutched tightly as he tried to process your words. His face was in disbelief. His eyes searched for yours, trying to find some sign of a joke. But your expression was cold and unreadable. He set the box down on the table, his movements felt too slow.

“Is there a particular reason you feel this way?” His voice was barely a whisper. You didn’t answer right, the silence in the air was heavy, suffocating even. He took a step forward towards you, hesitant. “Is there any way I can fix this?” The hurt in his eyes was palpable as he slowly reached for you, cupping your face gently. His thumb brushed over your cheek, searching for any sign that could give him an answer.

But you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You felt the weight of his touch, the weight of his words, and the devastation in his eyes. “Sylus..I’m sorry, it was just a prank..”

His breath hitched, his thumb stopping as he froze. His eyes closed as he inhaled sharply as he’d been hit by a wave of relief. “What will I do with you..” He muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose before his eyes fluttered open slowly, amusement flicking across his face. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” He asked, raising a brow.

You shook your head quickly, guilt flooding you. “No Sylus. You’re perfect. I’m sorry.. It was funnier in my head. I shouldn’t have done that.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “You had me worried there for a second, sweetie,” Sylus speaks quietly. His fingers graze your hair as he pulls you into an embrace. His lips press softly to the top of your head, and the fear of losing you again still lingers in him.

Caleb:

“Hey pipsqueak, what’re you in the mood for? I’m thinking maybee something savory, or how about something spicy?” He glanced over at you. His warm smile was infectious, as always, but you tried to stay strong. His expression faltered when he saw the look on your face.

“I don’t think this is working out anymore. Let's break up.”

Each word stung, his smile immediately disappearing. He blinked, his mind racing to process what you had just said, the grip on the wooden spoon tightened without him realizing it. Maybe he didn’t hear you right, yeah definitely.

“Sorry..maybe you want something sweet? Or if you’re tired of my cooking, how about takeout?” He tilts his head, refusing to believe it.

“No, Caleb. Let's break up.” The words felt sharper this time, slicing his heart into a million little pieces that no one could ever pick up. You could see it in his eyes, his entire world was crumbling. Every muscle in his body tensed as his breath caught in his throat. His face faltered for a second, his brow furrowing deeply as he set the spoon down with trembling hands.

“Pip-Y/n..where is this coming from?” His voice is quiet now as he takes a step closer. His purple eyes were a mix of confusion and hurt, his hands remained stiff by his sides, almost as if they didn’t know what to do. “Hey..what’s going on? Talk to me, please..” His voice cracked at the end, desperate.

Even though there was only a few inches of distance between you, it felt like the distance was growing further and further. “I can fix it..please..just tell me what to do..anything..” His chest tightened as his mind spun in a thousand different directions. What did he do? What went wrong?

You could see the pain written across his face, a mixture of panic, disbelief, and heartache that made yours ache. Without thinking, you reached out to him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. Caleb’s body was stiff at first as if he didn’t know how to respond, but once he felt your arms tighten, he exhaled slowly.

“I’m sorry, Caleb..I shouldn’t have said that. It was just a stupid prank,” you whispered. However, the words didn’t sink in right away. His body remained frozen, still processing everything.

He pulled back slightly, his hands shaking as he cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek like he was trying to make sure you were real. “Really? You’re not leaving?”

You nodded, “I’m not. I love you, and I won’t ever leave you.”

He exhaled sharply, his body finally relaxing against you as the tension in his body began to unwind. “You almost got me there, pipsqueak...” He let out a weak laugh, his voice still shaky as he pressed a soft kiss to your head. “Maybe you should stick to cilantro-flavored toothpaste pranks next time..”

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ thank you to my beta readers for helping me with this ! @ilovemitsuya and @pomegranatepip MWAH ₊˚⊹ᰔ

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! Love And DeepSpace Masterlist , Pg.2

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Clone Danny Fenton amuses me so here's another dumb crossover idea: Danny is one of the "failed" clones of Kon that Tim tried to make, but clockwork snatched his lifeless baby corpse before Tim could dispose of it (Tim just assumed he did when it disappeared, writing it off as he did it while too sleep deprived to remember clearly or something) and CW uses the pit to revive it before dropping him off with the Fentons in a completely different dimension.

Danny knows he's adopted and realizes he's not normal fairly early on, but doesn't manifest the more noticeable of his powers til after his accident, so he blames it all on his halfa status and not the alien heritage he has no way of knowing about. Once shit hits the fan and his dimension is no longer safe for him to live in, CW sits him down and explains both his alien (in more ways than one) and clone statuses. CW then offers Danny the chance to meet his maker and template, which Danny agrees to because why not? He's got nothing to lose. Danny's injured 16 y/o ass is then dropped a short distance from a timberkon (who are now in their early 30s because that'd how time works) date/hangout and Danny just plops himself at their table and steals some of Tim and Kon's food before literally any words are exchanged.

Kon, freaking out because this kid looks like him???: Uhhhh??? Kid??

Tim, bewildered: Who?? What?? Kid, wtf??? Do we know you??

Danny, swallowing his mouthful of stolen food: Yes and no.

Danny, points lazily at Tim: Creator.

Danny, equally lazy point to Kon: Template.

Danny, blinking slowly at Bernard: I don't think you had anything to do with HOW I'm here, but as you clearly are part of this now, surprise, it's a scientific freak of nature.

Danny, ignoring the devastated looks on his "parents'" faces and steals more food while continuing: He/him pronouns and I go by Danny. AND ONLY Danny, not Daniel, not Danno, and certainly not Dan.

Tim, slowly takes a deep breath and slides most of his meal towards the clearly starving child: Danny... You're NOT a freak, kiddo

Danny, seems to beam without changing his expression when he's got the food in his hands before processing how his comment must have sounded without context: Oh-ho! But I am! Finding out I was a half human alien clone was just the icing on the cake, really! I had an accident that I'm pretty sure destroyed all my flimsy human dna. I'm now half something else, that hilariously has a lot of crossover powers so I just assumed my accident gave me all of them before the dude that cradle robbed my dead baby corpse from the evil mastermind lab my creator.. has? Had? Meh. Who cares. But baby me was very dead and then he did something and I wasn't. This is where I inform you I grew up in a different dimension and know jack shit about this one.

Bernard: Okay, I have so many questions

Kon: Me too! What's your other half? What's your dimension like? Why did you seek us out now? What's your favourite colour? Any food restrictions? Do you have a place to stay? Why is your heart rate so slow? What's that buzzing sound coming from your chest? What-

Tim: KON! Let the kid actually tell you answers!

Bernard, sliding some of his food over to Danny while eyeing the subtily stiff way Danny is moving: Plus, the more pressing question is, how hurt are you, Danny?

Kon: You're HURT???

Danny, frowns at Bernard ratting him out before turning his attention back to the food in front of him: I got vivisected, it's fine, it's healing

The adults all suck in a sharp breath before sharing a look. They agree this is their kid now and people can take him from them over their cold dead bodies.

Danny feels 3 shiny new parental bonds snap into place, startling the shit out of him. He didn't think they'd want him tbh, AND he didn't think they'd have enough ectoplasum to even do a claiming like that. He nearly starts crying, BECAUSE THESE PEOPLE WANT HIM.

Tim, concerned: Danny? What's wrong?

Danny, blinking wetly: You're liminals?

Bernard: "Liminals"?

Danny: Human with ectoplasum in their system. I just.. you want me?

Kon, sacrificing what's left of his food to Danny: I don't know what that means. AND of course we want you. You're family now.

Tim, nodding: There's no escape.

The adults all giggles, thinking of different situations with supers or bats or both. It only lasts a second because Danny bursts into tears, just completely overwhelmed by the situation. The adults instinctively get closer, but don't touch, unsure if it would help or worsen Danny's state.

Tim: Danny?

Kon: Would you like a hug-oof!

Danny dives into Kon's side and desperately clings to him with enough force to break a human's ribs. Tim and Bernard crowd closer and rub his back in soothing motions.

Bernard: What's wrong, kiddo?

Danny: Dani should have been here too!

Tim: Danny? I thought your name was Dani?

Danny: She was Dani with one n and an I. I'm Danny with two n's and a y. She- She was my clone, but...

Bernard: You don't have to tell us

Danny: ...She wasn't super stable. I'd help her restabilize every time she started to destabilize, but... but I got caught! She came for help and got caught too! I watched her melt in that shitty lab! There was so much- I wanted- SHE'S GONE!

The adults are devastated. Kon squeezes Danny tightly.

Kon, softly: tell us about her?

And so Danny does. Explaining how she came to be, their first interactions, her strong and independent personality, the little souvenirs she brought him while she traveled to figure herself out, how her condition always worried him, but she wouldn't-couldn't stay with him, and how he wanted to talk about finding her a new name because she deserved to have her own name, not something that reminds her she's a defective clone, but he never got the chance. He has a messy breakdown while explaining her final moments and how his bindings, power suppression cuffs chained to the floor and a muzzle, prevented him from giving her comfort and how SHE apologized to HIM. He thought he was going to die with her in that moment, his core cracking at her loss.

This leads to a short explanation of his ghost biology and how dangerous a cracked core is. And by then, he's flagging, so the adults start persuading the kid to crash in their guest room, with the promise of dinner.

Thus begins the process of timberkon convincing Danny to stay with them. Teaching the kid about his original dimension and the many heroes. They get him so MANY books about space and alien civilizations once they find out his obsession (literally) with that kind of thing. Danny still misses his sisters and friends like an amputated arm, but he slowly rebuilds, letting himself gain a new family and new friends.

His introduction to both the Bats and Supers could have gone better.

He's suspicious and wary of Clark the whole time he was meeting the Kents because of how Clark has treated his own clones in the past. Danny doesn't understand him, and Clark doesn't truly understand, but is more sad than anything about it and accepts he made his bed, now he must lay in it. He warms up to the rest fairly quickly. He's also introduced to Bizarro and Clara eventually and that goes well.

With the Bats, Danny, Bruce, and Dick verbally pace around each other. Bruce deep throating his foot, and Dick not being much better while trying to keep the peace. The rest watch on with amusement before the show is a cut short by Damian of all people intervening. The problem is Damian snuck up behind (unintentionally), grabbed his shoulder while calling Danny "Daniel" (something he was informed to NOT do), and Danny's brain went "VLAD FOUND ME??" (despite there being no way, CW will not let him find Danny) and reacts with violence. Damian barely escaped having any broken bones, that being said, where Danny grabbed to literally throw Damian has DEEP bruising, that arm was dislocated, he has more bruising from hitting the floor, and gained a concussion. Danny apologizing profusely while scolding this 28 y/o man about sneaking up on him AND using a name he specifically told everyone NOT to use. Damian is man enough to apologize while Alfred patches him up. Meeting Duke and Cass is nice, he's unsure about Steph (because how rambunctious she is) and Alfred, Barbara makes him homesick for Jazz, and Jason is funny til he gets a heart attack in the form of Danny offering to eat the corrupt ectoplasum (Lazarus waters) out of him. There's chaos after that, but it eventually calms down, especially since timberkon are protective of their baby and Tim looks like he's about to go super villain on them the moment "tests" are brought up. Danny is embarrassed and pleased as his Creator (he never stops jokingly calling Tim that, Kon gets Template, and Bernard is Human, when they aren't just called their name. Eventually he calls them all dad, though Bernard is sometimes called mom) threatens to ruin their everything if they continue. Threats they take seriously because they know Tim will follow through. After that it goes well.

[totallyxtaurus]

Depollute me, gentle angel pt.2

Summary: Sylus is away on a business trip while you sink deeper into your depressive episode. Pairing: Sylus x gn reader Genre: Angst, some fluff (maybe, hopefully!) Trigger Warnings: depression, mental health struggles, anxiety, self-neglect, and hints of suicide. A/N: I hope this doesn't feel too rushed! I'm still trying to figure out a good pacing of how I should break these up without them being too long or too short. Posted too quickly or not quick enough, so any advice would be very welcomed and appreciated! I hope I did Sylus justice with his responses, I just took what I would want to hear essentially. But, Hozier's Wasteland, Baby! album is so Sylus coded. I got so many ideas for other fics, so stay tuned! And again, please please please take sweet care of yourselves! 💗

Prev

The chime echoes through the apartment, and for a moment there’s nothing. No footsteps, no shuffle of movement inside. Sylus exhales, fingers softly tapping on the doorframe while he waits. He already knows. He had known the moment communication stopped, when his calls went to voicemail, when even the short, tired texts faded into silence. At first, he assumed you were just busy, needing space. But the longer he waited, the clearer it became—if it were up to you, you wouldn’t come back at all. He began doing his own investigation, looking up the traits you portrayed usually compared to these moments of time and he found his answer. So, he started paying attention. Comparing your usual habits to these stretches of absence. Watching for the patterns. Having Mephisto follow you to your therapist’s office had only confirmed what he already suspected.

As advised, he gave you time—three days, exactly. Then the calls began, gentle and steady, each one a quiet pull back to him. Each time, he waited for you to let him in, to say something. But instead, he got excuses. Busy with work. Out with friends. His personal favorite: just sleeping. It’s almost amusing, how you seem to forget he has your location. He always knows where you are. 

Sylus toys with the key in his hand, should he, or shouldn’t he? Would this cross a line? You had given this to him for an emergency, wouldn’t this be considered one? It has been a full week without hearing from you. He never lets it go this long but work held him up so he couldn’t do his usual routine. He continued to ponder the ethics of his decision until he heard it, movement. A sign of life behind the door that still won’t open up for him. That’s it, he decides and inserts the key. 

As the door swings open, a gust of stale air hits him, thick with stillness. His eyes immediately scan the space, searching for the life he just heard. But as he steps inside, it’s clear- the main rooms haven’t been touched in days, especially the kitchen. He moves toward the bedroom when the bathroom door suddenly swings open. 

Both of you freeze, staring at one another in shock. 

For a moment, he just looks at you. Taking in the hollowed eyes, the tangled hair, the way your clothes sit wrong on you—looser in some places, clinging in others— like they were meant to fit differently but now just hang, like an afterthought. His chest tightens—not in disgust, never that— but in a quiet, constrained ache. He swallows it down, he knows letting you see that pain won’t help. Instead, he inhales, careful, and controlled. Just as he opens his mouth to speak, he hears it. 

Get out 

The words reach him, but his mind trips over them, grasping for meaning. 

For a second, all Sylus processes is the sound of your voice—hoarse, unsteady, faint, as if it took all your energy to speak at all. His mind is still trying to catch up, to piece everything together. But that’s when he really sees you. The way you stand there stiffly, eyes shining with unshed tears, flickering to anything that isn't him. As if meeting his gaze would break your resolve. The tension in your jaw, arms crossed tightly over your chest, shoulders hunched forward, as if you’re shielding yourself from him. And then he sees it—fear. Shame. They were there all along, laced with the exhaustion and neglect. Deeply settled, lingering long before he walked in the door. He had been so focused on finding you, making sure you were safe, that he hadn’t realized—you didn’t want to be found. Not like this. 

The tightness in his chest twisting further, a quiet reminder of his mistake. Instead, he exhales in that same rehearsed way.

"Sweetie," he tries again. His voice was low, full of gentleness. Less of a greeting, more of a reassurance. He’s not going anywhere. 

You just shake your head, a silent refusal, as if willing for him to disappear. Your stance is firm, guarded. But Sylus isn't someone who retreats at the first sign of a challenge. Especially not when it's you. 

"I know kitten, I know you don't want me to see you like this. And I know you think that pushing me away will make everything easier for you, for me. But it won't, it hasn't. You don't have to do this alone." 

He sees the tears start to fall, a quiet surrender that he takes as a response. Without hesitation, he continues, his voice softer but unwavering.

Taking a small step forward, slow yet deliberate as he speaks, "Just focus on me for a second, okay? Forget about everything else, it's just us. Can you breathe with me, my love?" As he demonstrates with measured, even breaths. Never forcing, just offering, hoping it will bring your attention back to the present instead of whatever thoughts you're trapped in.

He notices the way your hunched shoulders drop, relaxing slightly, and how your clenched arms finally loosen their grip on your body. He continues to encourage you, taking slow, careful steps closer. 

"You don’t have to do anything big. I’m not here with any expectations. Why don’t we just sit down? We don’t have to talk, I’ll just sit with you, if that’s okay." His voice is soft, low, coaxing. 

Sylus notices the immediate shift in your demeanor as you register his close proximity-the shield coming back as your body goes rigid once again. You close back in on yourself and take a step back. 

You should go. I stink and I'm sure I look horrific; you mutter as your hand comes up to your face to shield it. His heart pangs, but he doesn't let his expression falter. He can't afford to let you see how much it hurts him that you're hiding from him like this. He takes another small step closer, never pushing, just allowing the space between the both of you to remain as it is. He doesn't want to make you feel trapped, but he wants to show you, prove to you, that he's not leaving.

"Kitten," his voice steady and carrying a weight of reassurance deeper than words can convey. "I'm not leaving. If I wanted to, I would. You know I don't do things I don't want to. But I'm here, for however long you want me around. I'm yours." 

You scoff, shaking your head, still refusing to meet his gaze. "Why?" you ask, voice cracking. "Look at me, smell me, Sylus. Jesus Christ I'm disgusting. Why would you want to stay? Are you nuts?" 

"It's been suggested," he cuts in, his tone remaining gentle yet firm. Finally, you look up at him, and the anger in your gaze takes him by surprise but he holds his ground. 

"You just don't get it," you emphasize, your words sharp and full of frustration. "What's there to get?" he wonders but doesn't dare to speak it. "Sweetie," he says tenderly, "if this is you at your worst, then I've suffered far worse than this. You think I haven't smelled, or hit rock bottom before? When I did-or if I do sometime in the future, would you leave me? Would you push me away" 

"Don't be ridiculous," you say, your voice tinged with exasperation. His lips quirk into a soft smirk, his eyes never leaving yours.  

"Can I hold your hand?" he whispers, watching you closely, waiting for your response. You hesitate, then barely nod, just enough for him to catch it. He takes your hand in his, lifting it gently to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on the back of it.  

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the way your face scrunches up, a grimace of discomfort, but the smile on his lips remains warm and unwavering. 

"How about this," he continues, "I'll make you something small to eat. You don't have to finish it. Just one bite. No pressure."  

You pause, your mind working through his offer. Until, after a moment, your shoulders sag in defeat, and with a sigh, you agree. Your hand still secured in his, he leads you to the kitchen, placing another kiss on the top of your head before turning to the fridge to pull out what little food there is. 

"After we eat, can you shower with me?" The words barely escape your lips, so faint that for a moment he's unsure he heard them. He looks at you, hoping his love for you radiates in his gaze.

"Of course," he replies, his voice steady and sure. "Whatever you want, my dove." He watches as the faintest of smiles flicker across your face, the kind of smile he's willing to wait for, no matter how long it takes. 

Tag list: @withering-dream @madam8 @t4naiis @sunhooniez

[ssahotchnerr]

okay imagine a reader who’s clumsy asfff, and aaron is always there to stop her from falling flat on her face ahaha

falling for you

cw; clumsy bau!reader, established relationship, aaron's injured and minor blood mentions, angst? if you squint, fluff <3

A rural town surrounded by acres of woods: a serial killer's perfect playing field. Plenty of remote, secluded places to dump victims.

The trail on which you were walking was barely passable; narrow, obstructing hanging branches, the dirt path littered with slippery rocks due to the rainstorm the night prior.

One wrong step, poor footing on an angle, could result in sliding down a steep ledge. It wasn't comparable to a cliff - an eight foot incline at least - but could easily result in injury nonetheless.

Which naturally you of all people were bound to intercept; always moving too quickly for your own good, more focused on the destination rather than the journey - ultimately feeding into your habitual clumsiness.

Aaron took notice of the rock slab before you did, reaching out suddenly to grab at your arm the second your foot took a dive off the side. While you managed to escape unscathed due to his heroism, he wasn't as fortunate.

You had coerced him onto the passenger seat - if it were up to him, the two of you would've continued to the crime scene - cleaning and bandaging the bloody gash on his forehead yourself. He hadn't fallen, but knocked into a firm, solid branch, as well as scraped his arm on another, ripping his sleeve in the process.

"Stop moving so much."

Aaron's chest huffed in a faint laugh, "I'm not even moving."

A subtle glare came from you, "You could be concussed."

"I'm not concussed. Banged up maybe, but not concussed."

"Maybe?" The sight before you tore at your heart, Aaron's pretty face scraped up. "You mean definitely. And prove it."

A clever, amused expression formed on his face, "The United States government consists of-"

"Okay, okay." You surrendered with a playful eye roll, dismissing his impending recitation.

Admittedly you were flustered, solely for the fact that it should've been you - the one bumped up and bleeding. Your bottom lip was sticking out in a pout, cleaning his wound with an alcohol wipe.

He winced briefly at the sting, eyes watching your movements. "I know what you're thinking."

"You should've let me take the fall." As if by clockwork, the bandaid in your hand fell onto the wet asphalt. Annoyedly you reached down to pick it up, hastily tossing it to the SUV's floor before grabbing a fresh one from the first aid kit.

Aaron scoffed lightly, "Yeah, right."

"I'm serious," Your lip jut out even more, pulling your gaze to his exasperatedly. "Or Morgan should've at least accompanied you."

"Sweetheart, you know I'm in better company when you're around."

"He's more coordinated than I am," you insisted, your fingers fumbling together as you peeled the bandaid open, smoothing it over his broken skin. Carefully. You repeated the same for the gash on his forearm. "He can duck and leap from side to side without a second thought, has a much faster reaction time and, well, he's Morgan."

"Sweetheart-"

"He's not clumsy," you huffed out, crumbling the plastic in your fist. Your clumsiness, as incredibly inconvenient as it was, had never 'bothered' you to an extent.

But now that you had caused Aaron to get hurt, everything changed. It was a surprise it hadn't happened sooner, and it was only a matter of time before you caused another incident. One with a larger, more menacing result.

"In a terrain that's damp and woodsy and has twigs and leaves poking out, I should be the farthest person away," you rambled, covered with guilt. "Why they even let me join the field in the first place... I don't know."

"Because you're an outstanding profiler, have a keen eye that catches details the rest of us overlook, never backs down despite heinous barriers. Must I go on? I can, the list is quite extensive."

"Regardless, it doesn't excuse the fact I'm accident prone." You insisted, your sentence ending on a deep sigh.

"You aren't-"

"Aaron," you interrupted, "how many times have you reached out to stop me from flying into a table, or have reminded me to slow down. Look what just happened."

"You didn't fall because you're clumsy, honey. You fell- no, tripped because it rained and your shoes lacked the proper traction."

"But because of me, you're hurt." Your voice wavered the smallest amount, you could cry if pushed.

"And I'd do it again if it meant saving you." He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, eyeing the CSI agents not too far away. "And again," Another kiss, this time on your lips, "and again. It's a small price to pay if you're unharmed."

"Kissing me at a crime scene? You must be concussed." You quipped softly, lips itching to smile. Although you wanted to continue sulking, he was making it awfully difficult.

A laugh exited him; the rare laugh of his that minimal people experienced, and one that could lift your spirits in less than a milli-second. "How many times do I need to tell you? I'm not concussed."

You still weren't convinced - your inelegant tendencies not to disappear by morning - but you did feel better compared to how you felt five minutes ago. "Thank you."

Your hand grabbed onto his arm lovingly, a grateful gesture, but produced an immediate flinch from Aaron.

Your eyes widened in horror, heart nearly stopping, "I'm so-"

"You're welcome." Aaron stopped you, grabbing your hand and providing a reassuring squeeze. His expression was kind, compassionate although you should've been the one soothing him.

You exhaled deeply after a moment, readjusting his rolled-up cuff sleeve. "I owe you a new shirt too."

He smiled, his hand lifting to chuck you under your chin gently. "I'll add it to your tab."

[chancloud8]

Keep Playing

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 2,8k

Summary: you tease chan while he plays the piano. he returns te favor, nearly destroying his piano in the process.

Tags: nsfw, smut, oral (m), a little touch denial, fingering, cumshot, piano s3x, just pure smut.

It started out innocent, with Chan playing random songs on his piano to help you relax. 

You've always enjoyed watching him play. You could sit there for hours, listening to the melody and watching his fingers move over the keys as he too got cought up in the music. When he played you could just feel the stress leaving your body, your muscles would relax and your eyes would automatically close. 

This time however. This time you're on your knees. 

'What are you doing?' Chan asks, his head cocked to the side and his eyebrows raised as he watches you settle on the floor between his legs. 

He stops playing and you pout up at him, patting his thighs with the palms of your hands. 

'Keep playing, babe,' you instruct him. 'Don't mind me. Just pretend I'm not here.' 

He raises his eyebrows at you as if to say 'Yeah sure, like I can do that?!' 

'You can,' you say as you slowly let your fingers wander over his thighs and towards the tied strings of his sweatpants. 'Please play for me baby.' 

Chan opens his mouth to protest, but when you stroke him over the fabric of his pants he closes his eyes in defeat and moves his fingers towards the keys of the piano again. Music starts to fill the room again and you smile in victory, moving your other hand upwards as well so you can grab the waistband of his sweatpants and tug a little. 

'Keep playing, but lift your hips,' you tell Chan, looking up at him through your lashes.

Chan swallows and does as you say, allowing you to slide his pants down. As instructed he keeps playing, but when you press your lips to the inside of his thighs, he messes up a few keys.

You giggle and push his thighs open further, watching goosebumps appear on his skin when you crawl even closer between his legs and kiss a trial towards the place on his leg where his boxers end.

'Y/N,' Chan whines when you pull at the fabric with your teeth before once again moving your hand up to trace the outline of his cock teasingly.

'Yes, my love?'

'Please don't make me keep playing, I want to touch you.'

You squeeze Chan's thighs and lift your head to look at him. 

'If you touch me, you can't play for me and if you don't play..' you nip at his thigh with your teeth. 'You won't get my mouth where you want it.' 

Chan groans and throws his head back in frustration, but his fingers keep moving on the keys, playing one of your favorite songs. He barely wavers when you press a kiss on his growing bulge so you decide to go a step further and close your mouth over his length, wetting the fabric of his boxers. 

'Fuck,' Chan mutters, his fingers slipping off the keys. 

You chuckle and wait till he starts playing again to tug at his boxers till it rips. Chan lifts his hips again and you easily slip the fabric off, freeing his long hard cock. There's a drop of pre cum on the tip and you happily lean forward to lick it off. 

Chan whimpers and messes up the melody again. You briefly wonder what the neighbours will think of the melody going up and down from good to bad, because they could definitely hear him play. 

'Y/N, please,' Chan pants. 'Please.' 

You know he wants to stop playing to touch you, to make you pay for teasing him like this, but you're not done with him yet. He'll get you back no matter what you do and you're already looking forward to it. 

'All in time babe,' you whisper. 'Just be good for me and I'll be good for you.'

He groans again and switches to a different melody, one you don't recognize, but it sounds pretty non the less. You don't give Chan any warning before closing your mouth around the tip of his cock, your tongue pressing against the underside as you softly suck and lick up another drop of pre cum.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck,' Chan mutters out, his body collapses forward and his fingers smash against the keys.

You wait till he finds the right notes again and gently wrap your fingers around the base of his cock while your tongue swirls around the tip. Even more salty liquid coats your tongue and you hum in delight at the taste. He might complain, but he sure as hell loves what you're doing.

'This is so unfair,' Chan moans, bucking his hips.

You ignore him and take his cock deeper in your mouth, bobbing your head as you messily suck and move your tongue up and down to slowly drive him insane.

The song Chan was playing ends abruptly and his hands find your hair, pulling hard. You let go of him with a wet 'pop' sound and look up through your eyelashes.

'What's the matter babe,' you tease, licking your lips. 'I thought you understood the rules.'

'Screw the rules,' Chan growls. 'If I have to suffer, you can at least take off your clothes.'

Chan's eyes are wild, his pupils so dilated that the black nearly swallows the brown. It's incredibly hot and you fight the urge to just stop this game and jump your very sexy boyfriend.

'Okay,' you nod and smile sweetly at him, bringing your hands up to cover his.

Chan's grip relaxes and he moves forward to get closer to you.

'Nuh-uh,' you shake your head. 'I didn't mean you could touch me. You're going to keep playing and I'm going to take off my clothes.'

Chan glares at you and you just know he's debating whether to give you your fun or if he'll take over control.

'You like my mouth on you, right?' You wink,  caressing his muscled chest with your hands. 'If you keep playing for me, I'll give you everything you want.'

'I already have you,' Chan counters. 'I'll play for a little while longer, but then you're mine.'

'I'm yours,' you grin, ignoring what he actually means.

Chan rolls his eyes and lets go of your hair so he can place his hands on the piano keys again. He starts playing the same song as before, his eyes locked on yours.

You bite your lips and try to look as sexy as possible as you pull your soft cotton dress over your head.

Chan makes a noise in the back of his throat that sounds like a mixture between a groan and a whine when he sees what you wear underneath.

Nothing but a black lace thong.

His eyes rake over your chest hungrily and his fingers twitch over the keys of the piano. He keeps playing though.

'Good,' you praise, leaning down again to reward him with a kiss on the inside of his thigh.

Chan's cock twitches against his stomach and you take it in your hands, slowly stroking the soft skin and leaning forward to lick a thick stripe all the way from the base to the tip.

'Do. Not. Tease. Me,' Chan let's out between pants.

You nod and take him in your mouth, enjoying the heavy feel of him against your tongue. He's warm, hard as a rock and the tip is soaked with pre-cum again. You circle your tongue around to tip to lick it up before taking him deeper.

Chan's hips buck forward at their own account and his pants get louder, but to his credit he keeps playing this time. 

You increase your rhythm and move your hand along with your mouth, coaxing more sounds out of Chan's throat. His leg tenses under your free hand and his hips buck forward again, more powerful than before, the tip of his cock grazes the back of your throat. You moan around him, knowing the vibration of the sound will make it feel even better for him.

'Aarghh,' Chan groans. 'Y/N, fuck.' 

Drool leakes from the corner of your mouth, but you don't care. This is about Chan, about his pleasure. 

'If you don't stop, I'll--' Chan starts to say, but you suck harder and twirl your tongue just the way he likes it to silence him. 

The music stops with a loud clunk of Chan's hands coming down so hard on the keys, that it hurts your ears. You look up from under your eyelashes to see the exposed skin of Chan's throat as he tilts his head backwards, his mouth agape in pleasure. 

It only takes one more twirl of your tongue and then he's coming in your mouth. Hot, sticky and salty. You swallow every drop as you caress Chan's thighs with your hands before letting go of him. 

'Now wasn't that fun,' you grin up at him, only to be met with a nearly feral looking Chan. 

The veins in his neck are clearly visible and he has this look in his eyes that makes you clench your thighs together. 

Uh. Oh. 

You don't get a chance to tease him some more as he pulls you up from under the piano by your hair. It doesn't hurt at all, all it does is makes heat pool in your belly. 

His lips are on yours then, hard and demanding while his hands roam your naked skin. You gasp when he lifts you up and his tongue wastes no time invading your mouth. The both of you groan and you climb into Chan's lap, wrapping your legs around his waist to get as close to him as you can. 

Chan's hands grab onto your naked ass, massaging the flesh as he kisses you like he's starving. It's messy and wet, but you don't mind at all, giving just as much back as he gives you, meeting his tongue for every stroke.

Without warning Chan stands up, bringing you up with him and the piano bench clatters to the floor at his sudden movement. You let out a squeal and pull back from his mouth to say something, but Chan won't let you, chasing your mouth and capturing your lips once more. 

Chan's hands move to your hips and you yelp into his mouth when your ass and back touch something cold and smooth. Goosebumps erupt all over your body. Did he just put you down onto his beloved piano? You get no time to think about it when Chan's fingers hook underneath the fabric of your thong and rip it from your body like he's the hulk.

You want to giggle, but once again Chan gives you no time to respond, licking into your mouth as his hands are everywhere. On your thighs, your hips, your breasts. He explores every inch of your skin with his big warm hands until you're a quivering mess and he hasn't even touched you where you most want it yet. 

'Chan,' you moan when he lets go of your lips to attach his mouth to your neck. 'Chan, please.'

Chan just hums and leaves a trial of open mouthed kisses from your neck to your breasts. He trials his tongue around your right nipple and you arch your back, wanting more, needing more. 

'Chan,' you whine, your fingers digging into the skin of his shoulders. 'Please, more.' 

You know you probably deserve his teasing after what you just did to him, but you also know that he loves it when you beg for him. 

'Tell me what you want baby,' Chan says against your skin, his breath tickling against the wet spot he left behind. 

Everything. You want it all, anything that he can give you. 

'I need your words baby,' Chan urges, scraping his teeth over your sensitive nipple. 

‘I- anything, please, just-’ you breathe out, tangling your fingers in the black strands of his hair. ‘I want- I need-, fuck.’

Chan chuckles and moves his mouth up to your neck again, licking and nibbling as he goes. 'I'm definitely planning on fucking you, don't worry.' 

You groan and pull on his hair, lifting his head up from your neck so you can look at him. It takes everything inside of you to take a deep breath and lift the lusty haze from your brain long enough to tell him exactly what you want. 

'I want you to touch me, I want your fingers inside of me and I want you to fuck me against your precious piano,' you say, your breath quickening with each word until you're nearly panting. 

Chan bites his lip and lets his eyes wander over every inch of your naked body. 

'You're so goddamn beautiful,' he whispers. 'How did I get so lucky?' 

You let out a whine and reach out for him. 'If you don't hurry up, I'm not sure how lucky you-' 

Chan doesn't let you finish. His soft lips are on yours once more and you sigh in relief, arching into him as he kisses you. His hands wander from your breasts, to your sides and finally to your legs. He pries your thighs open further and your heart rate spikes in anticipation, but then he pulls back again. 

‘Noooo,’ you whine. 

Chan chuckles and you instantly know it’s payback.

‘Look at you all wet and shiny, just for me,’ he says, slowly inching his fingers closer to your cunt. 

When his finger finally slides through your wet folds you moan in relief at the feeling. Chan chuckles again and moves forward to kiss your neck, his tongue slipping out to leave a wet stripe on your collarbone while he collects your juices with his fingers, moving up and down in a deliciously slow rhythm. 

‘More,’ you beg him. ‘Please.’ 

Your body jolts when he finds your clit, bumping it with his knuckle before repeating the same movement as before. He does it again and again until you’re a quivering mess, moaning his name and clawing at his back. 

‘More, Chan, please,’ you moan, grabbing onto his arm with one hand to try and move his hand. ‘I need you.’

Chan shushes you and slips his finger inside at the same time as he kisses you again, licking into your mouth. You gasp and your fingers fly to his hair again to steady yourself. He picks up the rhythm, flicking his thumb against your clit every time he plunges his finger inside.

Your body feels hot all over and your vision gets blurry when Chan crooks his finger in just the right way. 

‘Come for me, baby,’ Chan whispers against your breast before latching onto your nipple. 

And you do. Blackness fills your vision for a moment as your body goes taut before relaxing. 

‘Fuck,’ you whisper, feeling slightly drunk on pleasure. 

‘So beautiful,’ Chan grunts, moving you a little on the piano to get better access to you before plunging into you with one hard thrust, no warning whatsoever.

You let out a strangled moan, still sensitive from your orgasm and your eyes roll back into your head as your body tingles with pleasure. You wrap your legs around Chan’s waist for a better angle and the both of you groan when his long length pounds even deeper. 

‘Fuck, you feel so good Y/N,’ Chan pants, his hands on your hips to keep you steady. ‘So wet, so tight, so perfect for me.’ 

You capture his lips in a bruising kiss. It’s messy and wet, but it makes you feel even closer to him. Pleasure builds in your core deliciously and you pull back from his mouth.

‘I-I’m close,’ you moan, throwing your head back and giving Chan access to your neck instead.

His lips latch onto your pulse point immediately, sucking and nibbling at the skin. 

‘Me too, baby girl. Let it go.’

He pumps into you even harder, the piano creeks dangerously below your body but you give it no mind. He could break the damned thing as long as he wouldn’t stop fucking into you. 

‘Aaarghh,’ you cry out as overwhelming pleasure electrocutes your body. Your legs shake violently as Chan thrust into you once, twice more before coming deep inside you with a loud sexy as hell grunt.

You hold Chan close as you both come down from your high. Your fingers lazily trail his muscles as your eyes grow heavy. You always get sleepy after an orgasmn, and there's nothing you want more now than to curl up in bed under a pile of blankets and cuddle till you fall asleep.

'Carry me to bed?' you ask Chan, kissing his shoulder.

Chan slowly moves, still burried inside you. He presses his lips against your nose, your brow and then your lips, a little ritual he always does after the two of you have sex.

'Anything for you, love.'

*************

a/n: uhhh this was my first time writing y/n and m/f smut so i hope it's any good haha. please let me know your thoughts and be kind <3

taglist: @jaeminie-cricket

[mnnuni]

Into you

Elliot Stabler x reader

Summary: an undercover operation that exposes some other kind of secrets

Words: 4498

Warnings: mentions of drugs, eventual smut -but very filthy-

Author's note: first of all, sorry if it's too long. Second, yes it is based on Ariana's song, or at least the movie it started in my head when I heard the song on shuffle. Little note in the note: this story is not necessarily in any time and place of the series, I just included Munch and Cassidy because I'm (kinda re)watching season 1 and I love them so much.

* gif and images from Pinterest

* dividers from @cafekitsune

"You're sure you want to do this?"

(Y/N) couldn't say how many times Olivia had already asked her that question, in different ways and places of the district.

She inhaled, closed her eyes

You can do it

"I'm sure Liv, don't worry"

Her colleague smiled at her through the mirror, "then let's finish this make up".

Their team was organising an undercover operation in a fancy club, it was an easy thing : go in, find the drugs, go out.

Of course there was a little detail that determined how the operation was gonna be; this club had a high standard for its clientele and specific rules they had to follow, number one being : "only couples allowed".

Now, the easy take was to send the infamous Benson and Stabler and call it a day, but Olivia couldn't because she had too many extra hours covered already. The next couple would have been (Y/N) and Cassidy, if Munch wouldn't have explained for ten minutes straight how Brian wasn't ready to do a thing like that.

So that left her to work with Elliot.

If it was a normal job (Y/N) wouldn't have worries of any kind, Elliot was a good cop and she trusted him with her life; but going out in a club made for sex and whatnot, faking being the girlfriend of the coworker she so desperately wanted ... that was another thing. That was also the reason why Olivia was so concerned for her, she was the only one that caught (Y/N) staring at her partner in a different way someday -at least she hoped so, even if the others could have known they never said anything-

Elliot was done dressing up ten minutes ago and everyone was growing bored to wait for the women.

"You done playing, ladies?" Munch started screaming and pounding on the door of the locker room, "come on we don't have all night".

When the duo got out the first thing the men noticed were (Y/N)'s legs : she wore a deep blue-almost black dress, it almost reached the knees on the right leg and was shorter on the left. Cassidy whistled when his eyes travelled up her figure and landed on her chest, tightly held up by the dress straps. (Y/N) did a spin, moving her curled hairs in the process and showed her half-bare back.

"Well Miss (Y/L/N) can surely do the work"

"Thank you Much", she was trying so hard not to fumble dressed like this in front of her colleagues, but they didn't have to know that.

"Y-you have, um, I can see your lace" Cassidy said pointing at her upper body, he tried to smirk and be flirty but he got too caught up when (Y/N) got closer "It's intentional Brian, now don't get too flustered". Munch chuckled and his partner was about to defend himself when Cragen cleared his throat and announced they were ready to go.

Elliot was the only one to not say a single word. Noone knew that was because his brain short circuited for a moment seeing (Y/N) like that.

I'm so into you

I can barely breathe

Even in the car to the club he remained silent, too caught up in his head, until they were almost there and (Y/N) was about to explode "now that we're still off, are you okay?" ; her voice startled him for a moment, he nodded and mumbled a sure and kept driving. Five minutes later they were parking.

Elliot took a big breath and finally turned to face her, "okay, so, if someone or something triggers you at any moment for any reason, you tell me and we're out" she nodded and then saw their van stopping few meters away so she leaned in to Elliot and searched in his jacket to switch the microphone, "do you hear us?", someone in the van switched the headlights on and off to answer her, "let's go then"

Elliot got out of the car and went to open the door for her, proceeding to take her arm in his to walk to the club. At the entrance there were two big men with the guest lists, "Stabler", he looked at them for a moment then checked his papers. It was a strangely nice feeling to be part of the "Two for Stabler", (Y/N) wanted to feel like this for real not just for a job.

The man stepped aside and opened the door for them; the first thing they saw was the wardrobe where (Y/N) left her jacket, then they were guided to a red lit corridor that ended to a glass door. There they were, in the middle of the upper class most scandalous nights, they were walking arm in arm between politicians, rich entrepreneurs and whores.

They walked to the bar to have a full view of the room: in the centre there was a little stage for the dj and the eventual singers, all around there were occupied tables, at the left side there were sort of cabins to be more private and to the right big glass doors that they knew took to the private rooms.

(Y/N) was the one facing the bar, counting all the staff members while Elliot, next to her, scanned the rest of the room to search their suspects.

"What can I get you, beautiful?"

(Y/N) was sure the bartender talked to her just because he was mere inches apart from her face, otherwise she wouldn't have think he would have flirted with her, while at work.

Elliot turned in an instant, placing his arm around her back "she would have a Martini, and a soda for me" he was shooting daggers to the poor man, who instantly backed away to do their orders.

(Y/N) was looking at him with a clear expression of "was that necessary?" and he just got closer to her, "what? You're mine tonight"

Her eyebrows shot up so fast she thought she was losing them; Elliot too was a little surprised by his choice of words, even if he so desperately wanted them to be true and not just for tonight.

But close ain't close enough

'Til we cross the line, hey, yeah

So name a game to play

And I'll roll the dice, hey

(Y/N) smirked and turned to face him, "you should..." she bit her lip and unbuttoned his shirt a little "I think it's better like this"

The bartender came back with their glasses before Elliot could say anything, "thank you" she looked at his tag "Brandon" he smiled and was about to go back to work but (Y/N) reached out and took his hand "excuse my boyfriend here, he's not used to share me" he smiled "no I'm sorry, I didn't gather you two were..." Elliot brought her to his chest "together? Yes"

"Tell me Brandon, is there a way we could use your private services?"

Elliot knew that they had to, but oh was he nervous to be in a bedroom with her.

"Did you make a reservation?"

She shook her head, "don't worry, you can wait at one of the private tables. One of us will call you when you can go in the rooms", he then guided them to the right side of the club.

To any possible looker these two were one of the other couples tangled in eachother, waiting for a new experience. In reality (Y/N) had her legs on Elliot's ones to be more closer and be clearly heard in the microphone, she was describing every customer to whoever was listening to them in order to have a complete list of witnesses, just in case. She drank a little and then went to play with Elliott's shirt's collar; he had one of his hands gripping her thighs and the other arm around her, laid on the back of the sofa and occasionally brushing strands of hair off her face.

They were so fucking close to each other.

Every now and then Elliot mumbled something, just to not look suspicious but he really couldn't formulate something longer that two sentences with (Y/N)'s lips so close to his face.

After the longest twenty-five minutes of his life a man cleared his throat next to them, Elliot was so scared of the possibility this was just another flirty guy who wanted to try it with (Y/N) -this open sex club was extremely hard to accept for a man like him- but fortunately it was the chauffeur for the rooms. He led them to the big glass doors and left them in another corridor with a pair of keys and the number five on them.

After he left them alone it was the first instant when they weren't touching in any way and they missed the contact immediately, so much that Elliot took her hand in his.

(Y/N) exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holdin when Elliot closed the door of their room, "okay, so report of the room : massive bed"

They started to search in every corner for anything that could help them with the operation while describing everything out loud.

"I've never seen this many condoms in my life" she suddenly said after opening two drawers, Elliot blushed looking at her with the envelopes in her hands. "Also, the flavour matches the one of the condoms found in the hotel, so now we have the confirmation that they're from here"

"How are you so sure?"

"Well for one, I have the assurance that no pharmacy ever has sold "coke flavored condoms" and because there's the name of the club on the envelope"

He just nodded, "right" and proceeded to open another drawer "oh look we have toys too", Elliot picked up a pair of fluffy handcuffs and showed them to her, "you like 'em detective?"

Was he...nah

Either way, she couldn't let him win, so she marched to him to whisper "I tend to use them to others, not me"

Oh, baby, look what you started

The temperature's rising in here

They were ready to inspect anything further when (Y/N) heard walking from the corridors, "someone's coming" "what?" and then a knock on the room next to them "they're entering the rooms" Elliot whispered.

"Loose the jacket"

He was about to ask why, but he knew better than to question her; she was so hot commanding orders. He carefully positioned the jacket on the back of a chair "I'm gonna put you here guys". When he turned back he found (Y/N) sat on the bed, taking off her heels "what are you-?" "We're supposed to look couply here, we can't be caught investigating" she obviously was right, but Elliot was in a very difficult position here now after she shoved him on the bed.

"So we're..." he was making some gesture with his hands while (Y/N) tried to find the courage to do something, "we have to" "yeah" and then he sat straight on the bed, waiting, thinking.

Elliot didn't have time before (Y/N) moved slightly her dress and positioned herself on his lap whit her legs on either side of him

Is this gonna happen?

Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move (ooh, ooh)

Before I make a move (ooh, ooh)

"Are you sure?"

Elliot was literally burning up.

Then she took his hands and put them on her hips, nodding. They felt so good on her.

They heard more loud walking so they inched closer, then a knock "room service";

So, baby, come light me up

And maybe I'll let you on it

A little bit dangerous

But, baby, that's how I want it

Poor guy didn't get an answer because they launched at each other to kiss. One of Elliot's hands travelled to her exposed back and the other gripped her hips more firmly. (Y/N)'s lips tasted of lipstick and were so soft to his rough kiss he wanted to die like this;

A little less conversation and a little more touch my body

'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you

her hands were gripping his hair and taking him even closer to her. When her breasts pressed to his chest and he felt her lace to his portion of exposed-by-the-unbottoned-shirt pecs he was losing it, Elliot moved her hips on him and that's when she moaned in his mouth.

At the other side of the microphone their colleagues were a mix of confused and delighted.

Got everyone watchin' us

So, baby, let's keep it secret

A little bit scandalous

But, baby, don't let them see it

"Are they...?" Cassidy was having the time of his life when (Y/N) moaned

"They are" they could hear Elliot's now because (Y/N) was kissing his neck "they so are", confirmed Olivia and Munch.

That's when another knock was heard and finally the person opened the door.

The couple got off each other's lips just because the guy excused himself. Then reality came back down again.

Elliot moved to hear the man better, putting his hands under (Y/N)'s butt to cover her.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, I am at your service tonight" he had a tray with champagne in his hand and just a pair of trousers on. (Y/N) didn't falter for a second there, getting up and meeting their guest, "oh don't be sorry, we got a little carried away"

She could hear Cassidy chuckles in her head.

"I'm (Y/N), come meet my boyfriend" she took the tray from him and gestured for the guy to sit next to Elliot, who introduced himself. She then sat on the other side of the guy, putting her legs on both the men's ones; Elliot gave her a side glance at how comfortable she looked putting herself on this guy.

"Tell us..."

"Caleb"

She smiled, "Caleb, how does it work, your service?"

He proceeded to explain how they were a fancy club for couples who wanted to explore their sexual lives, he didn't know but the more he talked the more criminal sentences he was giving this place. Elliot was more than pleased to look at (Y/N) flirt and touch this man to give them everything and more they needed.

"And tell me, is there a way to have some... Incentives?" she got up to sit down on Elliot again, "you see my boyfriend here has a hard time with all my eccentricities, but he's willing to try tonight and I'm sure that with some magical helps he would love to have the both of us"

Elliot was dying under her caresses.

The guy was starting to negate the service when he jumped in the ring again, "we're willing to pay more, of course"

Caleb's eyes lit up then; he agreed and got up to a wall, pressed some invisible buttons and revealed a cabinet full of any kind of powders.

"Now the party can start"

This was (Y/N)'s signal to the team to start moving.

While Elliot was next to Caleb pretending to choose what would have been his poison, they heard some commotion from the outside. They didn't break character for a minute, (Y/N) was comfortably laying on the bed when Munch got the door down and declared the guy under arrest.

"Finally"

Now, the easy part was done: the club was shot down, the owners were arrested and the ADA had so much proof to put everyone working there behind bars that they even thanked the team.

The hard times were just about to start when an hour later they were still at the precinct doing reports; Elliot and (Y/N) didn't have a chance to talk yet and she was almost grateful for this, what could she even possibly say? Sorry if I devoured your face and I used our operation as an excuse to make out to you?!

She kept her head low and just wrote in the files for the entire time, she was also grateful no one said anything about their work -even if she was sure Cassidy and Munch had some sly remarks ready the instant she and Elliot walked out the doors, Olivia only threatened them if they talked. (Y/N) could sense Brian's struggle to shut up at the desk in front of her-

Meanwhile Elliot was just opposite her, on the other side of the room and couldn't take his eyes off of her; they were still in their clothes, (Y/N) just raised her hairs with a clip -which made her ten times sexier in his opinion- and got free of her heels. He did just half the report because he was too engrossed in looking at her, how calmed she seemed while she worked and how she bit her lip from time to time while thinking about bigger words to fill her papers. But mostly he couldn't stop thinking about how stupid he was to not talk to her yet, after he had the best kiss of his life and just wanted to repeat it forever.

(Y/N) was painfully oblivious to Elliot's stare, too preoccupied to avoid taking notice of Cassidy eyes moving from Munch to Elliot -they had practically cleaned her lipstick stains on Elliot's lips and neck for the amount of times they looked at them-

When she was done she got up, handed over her files and went away; she just squeezed Olivia's shoulder on the way, but didn't say a word to anyone.

It took Elliot the time she started the car and drove off to understand he had to move too, but only after Cassidy threw him an eraser and Olivia screamed at him to "go take his girl".

It made him smile to think about her that way.

The knock (Y/N) heard from her door were so strong and determined she instantly went to see whose was, she opened the door with a confused expression on her face.

"Hi"

She just made him space on the door to enter her apartment.

Elliot didn't know where to start, how could he explain things to her when he didn't stop and thought about it?! He inhaled a big breath and prepared himself for a big monologue.

This could take some time, hey

I made too many mistakes

Better get this right, right, baby

"First of all, I'm sorry" she was about to answer but he made a motion with his hand to stop her, "please let me get this all out first"

"Sure, right", (Y/N) sat on the couch and invited him to join her -she was actually shitting herself considering his tone, but she sensed that he needed this moment so she'd wait to do anything, even if she'd wanted to crumble right then and there-

Elliot took a place next to her, diverting his legs in order to face her. Ugh.

Tell me what you came here for

'Cause I can't, I can't wait no more

I'm on the edge with no control

And I need, I need you to know

You to know, oh, yeah

"I'm sorry if anything that I did, or didn't do tonight made you uncomfortable. I wasn't expecting the turn that took the night, but I must specify I was pleasantly surprised."

Maybe (Y/N) could restart breathing.

"(Y/N) you're an amazing woman, I admire you as a cop and I love working with you"

Why did this sound like a rejection? Or worse, a goodbye!?

"But most of all, I loved kissing you tonight"

Oh shit

He took her hands in his, "I know that we're supposed to be professional and I don't want to seem irrational right now, but I'd really fucking like to kiss you again, more then once"

She was flabbergasted. She couldn't form a thought, her jaw was on the floor and her heart was beating at the rate of a heart attack.

"Please say something"

So, baby, come light me up (light me up)

And maybe I'll let you on it

A little bit dangerous (dangerous)

But, baby, that's how I want it (how I want it)

A little less conversation and a little more touch my body

'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you

(Y/N) pulled him from the shirt and kissed him, more confident than before. She pressed him to her putting her arms around his neck, while his found her waist; she opened her mouth to taste his tongue and he fucking groaned through the kiss, she was ready to fight his tongue for dominance when he pulled away.

"So I guess you..."

"Yes Elliot" she kissed the corner of his mouth "I like you too" and then his jaw "and I really like to kiss you" moving to his neck "and I'd like to do it for quite some time, if you'd like"

"I would love to", he was turning his face to kiss her again but she got closer to his ear to whisper something, "I would also want for you to fuck me, like right now" and then she smirked.

She didn't give him time to do anything because she ran away to her bedroom; Elliot woke up from his trans and followed her, finding her in front of the mirror trying to get away from her dress. He came up behind her and took her hands' place on her zipper.

He unzipped it so slowly, kissing every inch he discovered and then let the dress fall at her feet.

"Fuck"

He palmed her naked breasts, still looking at (Y/N) through the mirror, her head fell on his chest from the pleasure.

"I think you're too much covered" she decided when she turned around and got unbuttoned his shirt with one powerful move.

"Ehi! I liked that shirt" Elliot himself knew he was only half complaining, "I like it better off" she fucking licked her lips looking at his bare torso.

(Y/N) kissed every part of his chest, from the clavicle to his pecs; she sucked one of his nipples and was happily pleased when she realised his breath was becoming more erratic. She trailed her tongue down all his abs until she got on her knees, asking the permission to unbuckle his belt and jeans.

"You can do me whatever you want love"

Love

She worked his clothes rather quickly and stopped only in front of his underwear: shit, he was big. But she couldn't praise him about his size yet. She palmed his boner and got excited enough to yank his underwear away and take his dick in her hands.

Elliot was dying of anticipation there.

After stroking him two times (Y/N) licked his shaft and he hissed. He was ready!

Finally she put her mouth on his tip and sucked all the dick down in her mouth.

"Holy shit", he grabbed her hair and she looked at him with big eyes before she started to move her head up and down. She was phenomenal. At some point she took his balls in her hand and started squeezing, "oh my- (Y/N)"

It took her two minutes of full bobbing before she had to take air, but she never stopped touching him, always licking on nipping his tip. When she put her mouth on him again she started to move faster and sucking harder. Elliot was a moaning mess up there, moving his hips in sync with her.

"Baby I'm gonna-" he couldn't talk, she gripped his ass and sucked his cock so much deeper in her mouth he couldn't even think before he shot down her throat. She kept moving her head until he stopped screaming for her and came down his high.

When she left his dick (Y/N) was smiling and Elliot loved this. He helped her get up, just to take her in his arms and put her on the bed.

"You were-"

"Amazing, I know" he chucked, "you really were", he kissed her neck then, lowering himself on her. He felt her wet panties to his cock, who was already recovering feeling her like this. He moved his hands through all her leg, stopping at her inner thigh and sensing her warmth. Elliot looked her in her eyes when he finally put a hand on her pussy. She hissed at the contact.

"You're soaked baby"

"A good cock might do this to me"

She wasn't even embarrassed to show him how much she wanted him; he smirked and slowly let herself free of her panties.

"Look at her, so pretty and ready for me"

His talking of her pussy made her involuntarily lift her hips, which made Elliot smirk even more before he put a finger on her clit.

"Mmmh"

"That's right love"

Fuck he was good with his fingers. She knew he was only giving his dick time to recover, but (Y/N) was enjoying every minute of his fingers entering her hole. She was gripping his forearm when he pushed his second finger in to "prep her for his dick", he said. She was sure he was just enjoying her so fucked up just by his fingers.

"El I need you, now"

His face lit up, "you sure?", she took his cock and aligned it with her entrance, soaking it with her wetness "I'm sure".

He pushed into her very slowly, he was relishing in every inch of her stretching to his length. When he was done he waited a few seconds to move, admiring (Y/N)'s face while she adjusted to his size; suddenly she moved her hips making him hiss and then start to pound into her at a determinate pace.

"God, yes"

She was feeling every inch of his big dick and she was fucking loving it. He moved so well into her while also paying attention to every other part of her : when he wasn't kissing her neck, he was squeezing her tits or whispering dirty things in her ears.

She was loving his dirty talk.

"Come on baby, let me feel you squeeze my dick"

(Y/N) never moaned so loudly in her life. One of her hands was gripping the sheets and the other was firm to Elliot's back to have him always there, pounding into her, extremely close and sweaty. When Elliot started playing with her clit (Y/N)'s eyes rolled so back he was afraid she'd loose them.

"I-I'm so close baby"

Fuck, she called him baby

Elliot became even faster and impatient to let her finish around him; she was a screaming mess while she cum but Elliot loved her clenched pussy around him. Before he could cum he pulled out and finished on her stomach, still patting her clit while he stroked himself.

It was the sexiest thing (Y/N) ever saw; the scene became even more erotic when Elliot went down and licked his cum from her skin and then got up to her face saying "it tastes like you".

She smiled at him and pulled him in her arms, "after you'd done a thing like this, I'll never give you away"

"And I'll never leave, love"

[angrythingstarlight]

I doubt this is something all the bikers would do for some kids

But image they did this for Halloween 🥹

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7HFSNp/

You know exactly how to convince your grumpy biker to do what you want. Are you ready to pay his price though?

Pairing: Biker!Ari x Reader

CW: Touch starved Ari, size kink, innocence kink, grumpy/sunshine, protective Ari, choking kink.

AN: Written on my phone, Unbetad.

☆Biker Masterlist☆Ari Masterlist☆

You glance up at Ari, observing his sullen expression as he watches your screen. The short video loops back to the beginning and his bored gaze coasts over your phone and locks on your hopeful eyes. "No."

You're not shocked, although your mouth falls into a pout anyway. You knew this was going to be an uphill battle getting him to agree to work your booth at the autumn festival so you have an arsenal prepared. Since the ridiculously adorable video wasn't enough to sway him, you'll try a different tactic.

"Ari, it's for the animal shelter. We'd raise so much money if you'd help me out."

The legs of his chair scrape across his office floor as he moves back to his desk. He opens his laptop with a pointed sigh. "I think it's enough that I donate to that place every month."

"And all you ha—"Spluttering to a stop, your brows furrow in surprise. "You do? Since when?"

Since the day he found out you volunteered there. He's never going to tell you that though, you already know too much about him.

Without looking away from his spreadsheet, he gently closes your mouth with his knuckle. "Yes I do. So find someone else to help."

"But I don't want anyone else," you softly admit. "I want you."

His eyes close and the back of his head hits the top of his chair with a dull thud. You trail your nails down the exposed column of his throat, gently pressing over his Adam's apple, your fingers rising when he roughly swallows. "Please. I'll owe you. You don't have to wear a costume but if you show up you can make the other guys wear them."

And keep them in line. You might be able to get the other guys to show up in exchange for free food and beers but keeping a rowdy group of bikers under control for a few hours is an entirely different story. Something Ari can do without even trying.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Go back to work, Sunshine," he orders, no real heat in his voice.

You almost have him.

Swinging your leg over his muscular thigh, you straddle his lap. Every part of him goes still. You wiggle, adjusting your weight on him. Almost every part of him. You feel him thicken under you and you wiggle again, more of a slow grind this time, eliciting a low groan from his parted lips. "You do this for me and I'll do anything you want."

His eyes snap open and his hand is around your throat before you can process what's happening. His hold is loose but his palm feels good on your skin. You grin. He glares. "I'm getting set up around 10 but you don't have to be there until 11."

Another sigh. "Who's helping you set up?"

That's not what you were expecting to him say. "Oh um. No one," you start, blinking when he appears genuinely irritated for the first time since you strolled into his office. "It's fine, I'm used to doing this stuff by myself and it's more than enough if you guys show up and—"

"Be quiet," he demands, reaching past you with his free hand. Taking his phone off the desk, you both watch him dial Steve. This feels right—you still on his lap, his ring-adorned hand still around your throat.

"Yeah?"

Ari inhales deeply, his eyes briefly lifting to the ceiling. "We're volunteering at the festival this weekend. Tell the guys to show up and do whatever Sunshine here says. If anyone tries to skip out, let them know they'll have to deal with me personally," he says with a clenched jaw, forcing the words out.

There's a beat of silence and you whisper thank you. Steve clears his throat, tamping down a laugh, he has the vague feeling it would push his caustic brother over the edge. "Alright, I'll let 'em know. What time do we need to get there."

"10." Ari's eyes drift down your face, lingering on your smile. "Actually tell the prospects to get there early and set up her booth. Get her whatever she needs."

Oh.

You're not used to people being there for you like this. If you hadn't already offered to do anything for him, you'd definitely be doing it now.

"Anything else?"

"Nah we're good." Ari hangs up, his phone hits his desk with a loud clatter.

"Thank you again. You have no idea how much this means to me."

Ari makes a sardonic sound in his throat. You have no idea what you're about to unleash.

"Anything huh," he murmurs, tilting your head back, and squeezing your throat gently. Noting the way you instinctively grind down on him, he applies more pressure. "You really need to work on your negotiation skills Sunshine. You didn't even ask what I'd want from you in exchange for helping out."

His touch is sure, commanding. You might be on top of him but he's the one in control.

"What do you want?" You grasp his wrist, nearly forgetting you're at work.

Ari slides his tongue across his bottom lip, he's been dreaming about all about all the ways he's going to ruin you. Something dark and passionate flares in his blue eyes and it renders you breathless. "Too late for that Sunshine. You'll have to wait and see. I'll decide when you ready for me."

His hands drop to your ass, easily lifting you as he stands. Ari places you on his desk, his hands land on your thighs, slowly easing them apart as he steps between them until his massive erection is pushing against you.

It's going to be a tight fit. He'll make it work. Ari laughs softly when you realize just how large he is. If you're not flexible already, Sunshine you will be once he's done with you.

"You should start stretching."

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Last, Last Time

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)

WC: ~7.3k

TW: Angst, guns, violence, mentions of domestic violence, blood, swearing, depression, kidnapping, manipulation, self-deprecating thoughts, heartbreak, arguing, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure, and anything else that comes with a criminal minds episode.

a/n: based on S15 E6 - first date. I love u aubrey plaza <3. Also inspired by the song Last, Last Time by Boys Go To Jupitar. writing this was a little bit of a catharsis since it's one of the first things I've been able to write. I'm sorry I've been so m.i.a., i just moved to a new country and that has been a crazy experience. But to cope with that, enjoy some gut-wrenching angst!

Alternate Ending! Spencer Masterlist

“Spencer I won’t—I can’t keep doing this. I’m sick of arguing in circles.” 

“Y/n…”

“I-I feel like you take me for fucking granted Spencer. All I do is work and then come home and wait for you to actually be able to, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed as me for more than four hours.”

The look in his eyes almost took you out but your heart had already been broken long, long before this argument. If anything, you were starting to feel this sense of freedom as you broke his heart. 

“Please. Y/n. Just–I don’t—Just give me a few days to convince Hotch to let me have some time off and we can work on this please.” 

“Wait for the potential of us?” 

Spencer’s jaw loosened. You couldn’t read beyond the initial layer of pain and confusion, which made your chest ache since not too long ago you could have been able to find everything you needed in his expression.

“God Spencer this can’t be fucking news to you. We’ve been drifting apart for months now.” 

“I know, I know. You have been so patient with me and I’ve just been….there was that whole thing with Cat and then….I-I was trying so hard y/n…”

“No, first there was that whole thing with Maeve.”

“That’s not fair—”

“Oh that’s not fair? Really? You’re going to tell me the entire Maeve thing isn’t fair to you?”

“I’m sorry.”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m not saying you weren’t trying but come one Spencer. There’s no need to deny this shit anymore. I hate it when you lie to me about these kinds of things.” 

Spencer’s hand came up to his face and it dragged down, aging him significantly with the fatigue written all over his face. 

“So you’re just going to pack up everything, break my heart, and leave? Were you even going to say goodbye, or was I going to come home to an empty home. A note or....” 

“I-I don’t know Spencer. I just don’t…” 

The tears were starting to creep in, and you had to place the box down before you lost it.

“This isn’t easy for me either…” Your chest heaved. 

The both of you stood in silence, tension simmering surrounding the both of you like heat on a summer’s eve. Neither of you could really look at one another, but it felt wrong to look at anything else. Something was missing but you couldn’t say it outloud. You knew you would always love Spencer Reid but this time it was not enough. 

“I’m tired of arguing Spencer.” 

Your eyes met his. You felt Spencer’s arms around you before you could even feel the tears hit your cheeks. Your arms immediately went to his neck, so familiar. No longer home. 

Spencer’s voice muttered into your ear. “Don’t cry Jolie. It’ll be okay..” 

About three years ago, Spencer had decided that he didn’t like that you had nicknames for him, and he had none for you. He spent weeks workshopping different ones : Sugar, Honey, Pumpkin, Sweetheart, Darlin, Pookie, Lover, Sunny (like sunshine), Sunshine—it was a wild few weeks trying to figure out who he was talking to. Then one day, offhandedly, he was trying to tell you about this french film he had been watching, and trying to get Emily to watch with him. 

He called you ‘tres jolie’, and blushing you had asked him what it meant. He told you it meant pretty. 

And it stuck. 

Now? It stung. 

All you could do was squeeze tightly onto him, not ready to let go.

“You’re so pretty when you’re lying through your teeth.” You whispered after a few moments, pulling away out of his arms. 

“I.” You swallow and step back, out of his reach. “Maybe I’ll...” 

Spencer just looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold in the tears that were streaming down his face. 

You grabbed the last box on the counter and your keys, and walked out, for the last time. 

You awoke in your bed, eyes adjusting to the complete darkness the blackout curtains provided you. 

Another fucking night thinking about your decision those four years ago, and how your life may have gotten better because of it. 

Moving to get up from the bed, you decided to leave the curtains closed for now, feeling as if you could melt from the sun touching you. 

You turned on the bathroom light and started your morning routine. Wash face. Take meds. Brush teeth. Fix hair—

Somewhere in that process, you got lost, and just stared at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t sure for how long. All you could do was replay the last four years. 

Did you make the right choice? You were happy, you had your dream job. 

Maybe it was true what they say, you can only have a career or love, but not both—

The only thing taking you out of this spiral was the ringer on your phone going off. 

This caused some hesitation because your phone’s ringer was always off––the loud noise startling you. There were only a few people who had that emergency bypass, and none of them had called you in four years. 

You peaked out of the bathroom and saw the name light up on your phone. 

Emily Prentiss

______________________________________________________________

The door to the round room opened up and in walked Spencer Reid. “Catch me up.” 

Prentiss clicked the remote, and the TV lit up with a picture of a woman smirking facing the camera while holding a gun up to another one next to her. “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server.”

The second woman was tied up, mouth slightly open, and eyes filled with tears, while a man on the other side just had his eyes closed, tired. . 

Spencer just stared at the photo. 

Rossi nodded at the picture. “She's not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”

He never pulled focus away from the screen, mouth dry at the thought of what today was going to be. “Any ideas on the unsub?”

“No.” Prentiss sighed. “Only the unsub's demand. That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours.  I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions. This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”

______________________________________________________________

Receiving a call from the FBI was not entirely new to you, since you had been engaged to one of their agents, but receiving one now? Weird. Off brand. Something was deeply wrong from them to have to give you a call. 

You hesitantly pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey Y/n, it’s Emily Prentiss—“

“I know who you are, Emily. It’s been a couple years, not millions.” 

Emily hummed a brief laugh, and you could hear other voices behind her, unable to make out anything. 

“I know this is hard to ask of you, but would you stay on the phone with me and come in?” 

“What?” 

“I need you to stay very calm Y/n, but I need you to stay on the line with me, leave your apartment as soon as you can, and get to the BAU.” 

“Oh my god I totally forgot. It might take me an hour to get there with all this bullshit traffic, could we push the reservation an hour? Would they be willing to do that?” 

Your entire tone changed, having remembered what Spencer had told you all those years ago about if people were listening into your apartment, if they bugged your car—all paranoia that didn’t pay off then, might be paying off now. 

You were sure you could hear Emily sigh, and it sounded a little upset at the fact that you knew what to do–you knew how to handle a dangerous situation, which made her question everything in her life. 

Quickly you pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and grabbed your keys off of the counter. 

You left your apartment, waved to one of your neighbors, and hopped into your car, still on the line, just trying not to panic. Maybe something went wrong, maybe Spencer wasn’t okay, maybe he had died—you refused to even acknowledge that thought and decided it was something else entirely. 

It was a very tense hour of driving, that was only about forty minutes since you knew how to drive above the speed limit. 

You realized that it was past midday, and you had taken full advantage of the weekend. So at least you had a decent amount of sleep under your belt for what felt like the beginning of an extraneous night. 

As you pulled into the parking garage, Emily Prentiss and someone you had never met before were standing there waiting for you. You placed your car in park, hopped out and walked up to them–only hanging up as soon as you were out of the car. 

Both of them had such grim looks on their faces, but at least they were trying to pretend like the situation wasn’t as bad as it appeared to your face. 

Emily engulfed you in a hug. “Missed you Y/n. It’s been too long.” 

“Well Em, next time I end an engagement with someone I’ll consider your feelings first.” You squeezed him back, dryly laughing at your own joke. At least it caused Emily to snort. 

“Y/n this is SSA Luke Alvez. Luke, this is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small smile and nodded at you.

“I wish it were under different circumstances.” You nodded back and looked over at Emily.

“Let’s head inside?” 

The three of you moved inside. 

Sure, you hadn’t been here in a while, but you knew your way around the BAU Bullpen if your life depended on it, which was ironic since that was what this feels like. 

As soon as you were safely in their round table room, Luke shut the door, and stood by it, Emily coming and sitting down next to you. 

“What do you know about Cat Adams?” 

That bitch. 

______________________________________________________________

“I would like to go on a date. With you.” 

Spencer stared at her, face stoic as ever. “A date?”

“Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun.” She looked him up and down. “And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”

Spencer sat down across from her. “Come here. Closer.”

Cat leaned in, a small smile on her face, absolutely intoxicated by being so close to him.

“The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”

Cat scoffed. “You're just going to let her father and sister die? I don't think so.”

“I never said it was a father and daughter. You're already slipping.” He stood up from the table. “We'll find them. We always do.”

Cat leaned back and crossed her arms. “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”

His resolution had yet to change, “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.” 

And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.

______________________________________________________________

Both the profilers watched a series of emotions run rampant across your face, before you settled on a somewhat displeased smile. “A lot.” 

They exchanged a look, and you didn’t have the energy to pretend like you didn’t know what it was. 

“Don’t start with me you two. I know profiling. I know what you’re doing. Ask me the questions you want to ask. Don’t try and trick me into giving the answers you want.” 

Alvez bit his tongue and looked away, trying to hide a small smile that appeared on his lips. 

Emily, on the other hand, hid her smile a bit better than him, but part of being previously engaged to a profiler meant you picked up on some of their tricks too. 

She nodded and pulled a file from across the table. “I’m assuming you know the basics since she, uh, is obsessed with Spencer.”

“Glad to see he still has that going for him.” You muttered and looked into the file. 

Emily shot Luke a look when he let out a huff or air, trying his damndest not to laugh. 

“What is the last thing you know about her?” 

You recounted the days leading up to the restaurant, and then the few days after, decidedly stopping short of the engagement breaking off a week later. 

They shared another look, and you didn’t enjoy whatever it was that had moved across their faces. 

“What? What happened?” 

“Y/n..”

“No Emily, I drove from DC to here, I deserve to know what happened. without some weird sugarcoating, alright?” 

Emily then begins to explain to you the past four years of Reid’s life. Cat pretending she was pregnant with his kid in prison, kidnapping his mother, framing him for murder in Mexico, going to prison—

“Spencer went to prison and none of you thought to call me….”

“We didn’t think you’d–” 

“I’m a fucking criminal defense attorney in DC Emily. Of course I’d want to know if he was arrested, especially internationally. I know that law better than all of you. If someone I knew was kidnapped, I’d call you immediately. Faster than the cops.” 

Both of them went silent. 

“So is he out?” 

They nodded slowly, silently. 

“How long was he in there.”

Nothing. 

“I asked. How. Long.”

Luke spoke up. “Three months.” 

“Jesus christ.” You stood up and started to pace around the room, taking the time you needed to calm down. 

Why didn’t Spencer call you—well you knew why Spencer wouldn’t call you. 

“Okay so he’s out.” You said finally. “Why am I here?” 

“Cat’s execution is coming up, and we….we found out that she’s convinced someone to kidnap some….people…close to Reid, and we knew you’d be on that list for him.” 

Your eyebrows went up at people but said nothing of it. Just as you went to say something else, JJ knocked on the door, another blonde woman behind her. 

They entered and JJ gave you a small, yet genuine smile. 

You returned it, but quickly shifted your gaze onto the woman behind. 

Your whole body shifted slightly, into a place of defense, locking your emotions down. You knew all the profilers were watching it happen in real time, which is why Emily walked over and stood next to you, a hand appearing on the small of your back as a comfort.

“Would someone like to tell me what is going on here?” The blonde woman spoke up, arms crossed.

At least Spencer’s taste in partners with attitude hadn’t changed. 

______________________________________________________________

“Victimology is off.”

“How so?” Prentiss looked up at him as he walked into the room. 

“Father and daughter. She’s never done that before.” 

Lewis spoke up. “She usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children–even adult children, are off limits. Do we have an ID yet.” 

Prentiss, Rossi, Garcia, and JJ all looked over at Reid, and he just pulled a hand down his face. “It’s. It’s Issac and Noelle Y/l/n.” 

“Y/l/n…as is Y/n Y/l/n.” Tara looked up surprised at Spencer. 

Reid nodded slowly, just staring at the picture on the projector.

While Luke spoke up. “Who is Y/n Y/l/n.” 

“An old friend.” Rossi quickly interjected, before any more explanation had to be said. It was clear both Alvez and Simmons, that whoever this was, was an extremely touchy subject for Reid. 

Tara, who had only known you for a little while, looked back at the picture. 

Rossie spoke up. “What do we know about the partner who’s helping her?” 

“It’s got to be someone from her prison.” Simmons spoke up. “She hasn’t had contact with anyone else.” 

______________________________________________________________

After all of that, you found yourself back in a place you left four years ago. It looked almost the same as when you had first moved in, but there was less of it. 

Almost as if he was having trouble covering places where things used to be.

There were almost no photos on the walls, since you had taken half of them, and were in the rest. 

Calling someone you once loved a stranger feels wrong. 

Max, as you had learned her name, was just sitting on the couch in your spot . She was looking around as you and Rossi stood by the kitchen counter. 

“Cat had a cellmate named Juliette Weaver. We believe the two were working together, as a way for Cat to get something against Spencer, and as payment, Cat would get Juliette’s ex.”

You nodded. “How does this affect me?” 

“She took your father and sister.” 

Your back straightened and immediately brought out your phone, to call your sister, but Rossi just grabbed your wrist (gently) and shook his head. “If she finds out you know, then it’s all over. She’s doing this on purpose. She knows about you and Reid, but she knows that dragging you into all of this will hurt him more than anything else.” 

His voice had gone low and quiet, so that the girl on the couch couldn’t hear. 

“So why is she here?” You whispered back. 

“Because we don’t want anyone in danger.” 

You closed your eyes and nodded. “I need a cup of tea.” 

Rossi let go of your wrist, and you walked into the kitchen, mostly eyes closed from the stress of the situation. 

The apartment was silent, the others watching as you grabbed a kettle, and started to make tea. It was like second nature to you as you turned the stovetop on, grabbed a mug from the cabinet (careful to not grab one of his favorites), and grabbed some tea from the cabinet. 

It didn’t dawn on you that you were drinking your favorite type of tea until the second sip, while the entire apartment was still silent. 

The pity from Rossi's look was palpable. 

“Don’t even start.” 

He shrugged and stayed silent. 

Until his walkie went off and he looked at Max. “It’s time. Let’s go.” 

Rossi looked back at you and gave you a quick hug, squeezing you tightly. “You’ve got this kid. Remember everything we talked about.” 

You nodded and gave them both a strained smile as they left the apartment, leaving you all alone in this place you once called home, alone. 

Never once, since you left, did you think you would ever be back here. You didn’t even realize you were drinking from one of your own mugs until it was just you. The irony of it was not lost on you, and you sat down in your spot on the couch. 

Well first you sat in Spencer’s seat but it felt too weird, so you shifted back into your spot on the couch. 

______________________________________________________________

“Juliette staked out in Reid’s life. Found out he was dating someone, but then must have discovered his ex-fiancée.” Simmons sighed. “He was probably so focused on Max, he didn’t even realize that someone was digging into his history, following them around.”

Prentiss nodded as they walked and talked. “But if Juliette was able to find Max, that meant she was easily able to find Y/n and her family. It means she must have access to all of her publicly available information. “

“Well at least we found their hidden agenda.” 

“No. We found Cat’s hidden agenda. Juliette doesn’t care about Reid. There’s something we’re missing here. Do a deep dive with Garcia.” 

Simmons nodded at Prentis. “On it.” 

“I’ll go to Reid's apartment and monitor onsite. Is there a trap and trace on his landline?” 

“Garcia’s almost set up.” Simmons walked away from Prentiss, and down towards Penelope’s office. 

“Well this went from bad to worse.” Tara walked up to Emily. 

Emily sighed in agreement. 

Lewis spoke up. “Female narcissists destroy their competition.Y/n  really shouldn’t be in there.” 

Emily just nodded and the two of them headed out of the bullpen. “Walk with me.” 

Tara kept stride with her as they pushed through the doors. Rossi was just getting off the phone with someone and turned to look at the two women approaching him and JJ. 

JJ spoke up when Rossi was finished. “So, the hospital just released the dad– Issac Y/l/n. He's on his way here now.

Rossi scoffed. “Question is, why let him go at all?”

“Matt's on that.” Emily gestures in the direction of Garcia’s office. “Juliette Weaver's real agenda should tell us where she's taking Y/n’s younger sister.”

Lewis spoke next. “I still think the play here is to get Cat and Juliette to contact each other, but I have no idea how.”

Prentiss crossed her arms. “I have a plan, but first we have to talk about Y/n.” 

______________________________________________________________

Just then, you heard the click of the door, and stood up, watching as the door swung open. 

And there he was. 

This was the first time you had seen Spencer in four years. 

And here he was, kissing Catherine Adams. 

The woman you could give partial credit to for ending your relationship. 

After a moment Spencer looked up, and took several steps away from Cat. His eyes were wide and locked on yours. 

It took a lot of self-restraint to not punch the lights out of Cat, and to stand still arms crossed. 

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke a little bit. 

You never would say that Spencer was unattractive. In fact, it would be a lie if you ever said it. But something about the past four years aged him like a fine wine. 

His hair was a bit longer, he had some scruff—his baby face had melted away and standing in front of you was a man who thought you knew everything about, but was now a stranger. 

You didn’t answer him, watching as he took you in, standing in his apartment, for the first time since…

“What are you doing here?” 

You looked over at Cat, who had the most devious smirk on her face. 

Remember what Prentiss had said to you. 

“You know why I’m here.” 

Cat nodded and the two of them moved into the apartment, the door closing behind them. 

Spencer just stood ten feet away from you, eyes never leaving you, and you watched him right back. 

Cat, on the other hand, was walking around, examining the apartment. You could see her take notice of the tea you had made yourself on the counter. You could see the hatred from the corner of your eyes. The two of you were starting to piss her off. 

She spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your Fiancé?” 

You shook your head. “No.”

Your focus had fully turned to Cat, but you swore you swore you could hear Spencer take a sharp inhale as you spoke your next words.

“Well, he's not my fiancé and I kind of have some other things on my mind.”

Cat didn’t scare you, but there was just something so off-putting about her. “Like what?” 

“Are you gonna hurt Noelle?”

Cat shrugged. “Not if I don't have to, no. Honestly, if she follows instructions, she might even learn from this whole experience.”

You scoffed. “What does that mean?”

Cat just started fiddling with the chess set on the dresser. 

“Spencer, what does she mean?” You turned to look back at him, his name feeling so good on your tongue. 

Spencer, who really hadn’t stopped looking at you and sighed. “I think…She means that Noelle isn’t learning from her, but from Juliette.” 

You sat down in your spot on the couch, arms crossed. You were on the full defense. 

Spencer noticed where you sat and had to look down to conceal any notions of a smile on his face. 

Cat watched him before turning and looking at you, some more disdain on her face than before. 

“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight, I've brought you all here to make a point. You are doing so much better.” 

Spencer spoke up. “With you?”

“I'm not talking to you.” Cat snapped at him before she turned to you. “I'm talking to you. Because, girlfriend, you need to know the truth about your fiancé.” 

“He's not my finacé.” You were unsure about how many more times you could say that outloud. 

“No kidding. When’s the last time you spoke? Right…” Cat walked over to the center of the room, right in front of the couch. “Here?” 

Your head whipped around to Spencer. “You told her about that?”

Spencer was pleading with his eyes. “I had to say a lot of things tonight.”

Cat’s voice caused your head to snap back to her. “Yes, he has. He said that you never compared to me, that, um... That no matter what, he will never get me out of his mind, unlike you. Unlike that girlfriend.” 

You tried not to wince at the mention of that girl Maxine out in one of the trucks.

Spencer sat down next to you. “Everything I said—I was lying to save your family.”

Cat scoffed. “Did our kiss look like a lie?” 

“No.” you just looked down at your hands. 

“Thank you. See, now we're getting to the heart of the matter.” Cat started mocking Spencer. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is... Is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who, uh, always saves the day and has all the answers. And has zero mommy issues, right? But, um... I know the real him.” 

“Oh, yeah? Who's the real me, Cat?” 

“The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls. And hisses that he's going to kill them.” 

Spencer stood up, squaring off against her.  “That was a very different situation.”

“No, it wasn't.” Cat was holding the smirk back this time, making your gut wretch. 

“Spencer…What is she talking about?” You looked from the psychopath in front of you, to the man you realized you might have never really known beside you.

“You tell her. She's not gonna believe it coming from me.” She huffed. 

Reid turned and looked at you. “Two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…”

Your chest hurts. “And you threw her against a wall?” 

Cat’s smirk was breaking through whatever resolve she had. “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. She deserves to know everything.”

Every single time she said Spencie you swore a shock went up your spine. 

Spencer looked down at his hands, and then over at you. His voice had gotten quieter. “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.” 

“And?” She stood there expectantly, waiting for Spencer to finish. When he didn’t, her face suddenly became solemn. “The next day... I miscarried. The end.”

Spencer looked at her. “That's not true.” 

“It is most certainly true. Check my medical records.” 

“That doesn't mean I-I would…”

Cat held up her hand to him. “Stop. Look.”

Spencer looked over at you, just sitting on the couch, trying to process everything that was going through your head. 

After thinking about everything you had gone through, especially with Spencer. “I thought you were better than that Spence.” 

It was the first time you had used a nickname for him in years. And he was hearing it for the first time while you were stuck in a standoff between himself and Cat Adams, your sister being god knows where. 

Spencer’s voice cracked. “I'm sorry.” 

Cat squatted down in front of you, a sick smile on her lips. She was enjoying this. She truly enjoyed watching his life crumble to bits. “Notice how your Spencie is apologizing to you and not me.”

You clenched your hands. “He’s not mine…”

Spencer just looked over at you. 

Cat nodded. “That's good. Because men are all the same. Aren't they, Jolie?” 

Spencer’s eyes lit up with an emotion you rarely saw from him when you were together. “Don't call her that.”

And you couldn’t blame him. The word ran you through like a spear and you were sure if you looked behind you, the blade would be through the couch. You tried so hard to not let either of the two people near you see how much it messed with you. Luckily for you, Cat was too busy pushing Spencer’s buttons to see the way her words won against you. 

Cat hissed at him. “What, are you gonna throw me against a wall and choke me, or do you only do that to pregnant women?” 

You finally spoke up. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want you to see it.” She gestured to Spencer. “I want you to see that he is...no better than he was before, or any man after. They’re all the same.” 

“Stop.”

Cat squatted down in front of you. “I can see it on your face. What's his name?” 

You stared back at her. “It's none of your business.”

That damned smirk of hers returned. “It is exactly my business. In fact, it's my specialty. I mean, I could have Juliette and baby sister go over there if you want. They could take care of him.” 

Reid looked over at you. “Say yes. Give her what she wants.” 

“Hmm. See, he wants you to get me to make a little phone call so they can trace it.” She moved away from you both and sat down in the lounging chair across from you. “They're so good, the FBI.”

You jumped up and started pacing, a spitting image of four years ago. “What is wrong with the two of you? What is this sick, twisted thing that you have? Listen, I just want to save my sister. Will you please just tell me what I have to do to do that?” 

“Tell me his name. Tell me the story. That's it. And then if they can let Juliette exit stage right, then I promise you I will let her go.”

You looked between Cat and Spencer before walking over to the kitchen, and hanging up the phone. After staring down at the decision you had just made, you walked back over and took your phone out. “Here.  Use this. Use my phone. They can't trace it.”

She just watched you. “You'd be surprised.”

“I don't even need a call. Just... just a photo.” You held the phone out to her. “Something to prove to me that she's still alive. Please”. 

Cat just looked up at your face. “Story first.”

“Y/n. Please.” Spencer turned to you, hoping you’d look back at him. “I have been here with her before. She called the number and told the partner to kill my mom.”

“It is so tricky, isn't it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath... Or me?”

You looked down at the ground, refusing to look over at Spencer. “His…His name was Mike Davis. We dated for two years. I met him a month after we…we split.”

Cat’s attention on you felt as if there were a million bees stinging your body all at different intervals, pain coursing through your body. “Good. When did it end?” 

“Last year.” 

“Was he good in bed?” 

Spencer stood up. “Shut up.” 

Cat was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching you make Spencer uncomfortable. She was enjoying hurting him in every masochistic way she could. “What? You have to know where you stand.”

“He was good…” You looked back at Cat. “Good at, um, separating me from my friends and my family. Enough that the first time he punched me in the face, I didn't have anywhere to go. And my first response wasn't "get out." It wasn't "go to hell." It was "I'm sorry, Mike." That's when he knew he had me.”

There was a glint in Spencer’s eyes, and you could swear they were tears, but you couldn’t tell from rage or sorrow. 

Cat continued to probe. “How many hospital visits were there?” 

You showed her a small scar on the inside of your elbow. “None. No, he... He knew how to hurt me just enough to hide it all, I guess.”  

“But you found the strength to leave. What did you do?” 

“ I planned and I... I waited.”

Cat’s eyes lit up. “Waited for what? “

“I live here in D.C.” You looked between Spencer and Cat. “but I'm also a resident in Virginia. It takes 60 days for the permit to clear.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/n, stop talking. Stop talking right now.”

Cat shushed him. “No, don't stop. Here. Give me the phone. Look, I'm gonna enter the text. Stick the landing and I'll hit "send."

You handed her the phone and she quickly typed out a message, her thumb hovering over send. 

Fiddling with your ring finger, you started to speak again. Slowly. Concisely. “When I was ready, I picked a fight. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. And he came at me with his fist just cocked back, so I pulled my Glock 19 out of my purse. I shot him.”

Spencer tried to interject. “It was self-defense. He was attacking you—”

“That's what I told 911 as he was struggling to breathe on his kitchen floor. That's why the police never charged me. I’m a lawyer, I know how to plead.” You closed your eyes. “But I... after I hung up, I... I shot him two more times.” 

Cat was glowing, spinning around to face Spencer. “Wow, you really have a type, don't you? Quite a dilemma, too. She just admitted to murder.” 

Spencer was in disbelief. “She'll beat it.” . 

“Probably. But whatever feelings she might have still had for you, and whatever Maxine might have seen in you—-it’s all gone.” 

The phone in your hand buzzed.

“Oh, wow. Look at that. Your sister. Alive and well. You're welcome.” 

Your face hardened up, and you stood up straighter. Walking away from the two of them, you opened the door. “I got it.” 

She took the phone from your hand and you turned back to the two of them. There was no emotion behind your eyes as you looked back at Spencer. 

Cat smirked and looked up at Spencer. “I win.” 

______________________________________________________________

The prison transport was quiet, with the two guards sitting across from Spencer and Cat. It had been silent for about twenty minutes, but then, Cat spoke up. 

“Do you know why I did this? Why I really did this?” 

Spencer looked down at his hands. “You wanted to prove I'm a monster just like you.”

“No... Silly. I just wanted to see you again. I just wanted to make sure that you would never forget about me.” She sighed. “'Cause when they do put that needle in my arm, I just want there to be even the slightest chance that... Maybe you're still thinking about me…”

Spencer stiffened as she placed her head on his shoulder. “You didn't have to terrorize 3 innocent people. You could've just written a letter.” 

“Would you have written me back?” 

When Spencer didn’t respond, Cat knew her answer. 

“Bye, Spencie. I really enjoyed our date.” She smiled at him desperately, getting dragged out of the vehicle by the guards to the prison. 

______________________________________________________________

The elevator door opened and Spencer walked out of it, his whole body reeked of defeat, and he barely looked at Emily as she spoke.  “We need to debrief.” 

Spencer just walked right past her, and into the bullpen. His expression changed when he saw you on one side talking to Tara, and Max on the other, looking up at him right as he walked in. 

“Spencer, are you okay?” 

Her voice caught your ear, and immediately you looked up to see her walk over and embrace him in a hug. 

He smiled at her, and grateful returned the hug before muttering that he would be back, and explain everything.

You were never going to get back together with Spencer, but watching it in real time was like unlacing an old wound. 

Spencer walked over to you, and you stood up as he approached. 

“Uh, Tara, would you mind giving us…”

She nodded at him and walked away. 

Both of you went to speak, trying to say something to the other. 

“I should explain all of this.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to explain any of that Y/n—it doesn’t.” 

You cut him off. “It was fake—most of it. I didn’t kill anyone, Spence. I was just lying to her to get her to send the text from my phone. It was all…It was made up.” 

He just nodded, staring at you really. 

You gave him a soft smile, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Both of you could feel the pulse between it, making you remove your hand and take a small step back. 

“Thank you for saving my sister and father.” 

Spencer watched your resolve fully formed, masking whatever you were feeling. He hated watching it happen to him, watching as you placed whatever feelings you had back into somewhere he couldn’t find. 

Garcia walked over and placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “I just need you both to know, Cat Adams had a miscarriage, but it was months after whatever encounter you had. It’s not your fault. We looked at her records.” She was speaking low for you both, yet both of you let out a quiet sigh of relief. 

“They filled me in on everything that happened between both of you in the past couple years, and they asked me if I would be willing to…help them beat her.” 

Spencer looked up at you, and unlike yourself, every single emotion Spencer was feeling was racing across his face. 

He didn’t like that you knew about everything that had gone down. He was so happy you were okay. He was a little impressed by the way you beat Cat at her own game. He was upset that you put yourself in danger. 

“They gave me an ear piece and everything.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You’re not trained—that’s extremely dangerous of you.” 

You sighed and nodded. “Unfortunately Spencer, this is…this was the life I was used to when we were together. I knew the stakes. I mean the briefings I had with Hotch after you relapsed…” 

Spencer just clammed up and stood a bit straighter. “ I never knew..”

“It was like that on purpose. I didn’t want you to think that you were a burden or too much or—I was doing it for the potential of…” You cut yourself of, flinching at the parallels between this and your previous final conversation. 

You looked over at Garcia. “I need my bag Pen.” You whispered, taking a step away from Spencer. “I shouldn’t…I finished my job. My family is safe…” 

She had a rueful look on her face, but she nodded and took your arm, walking you back over to the desk where your stuff was. 

He looked up at Emily and walked over to her. “I’m…uh. I’m gonna go walk her out and then I’ll be right back.” 

Emily gave him the saddest smile, and just nodded. She knew that nothing she could say could make it any better. 

You grabbed your coat, and your bag, and the two of you walked to the elevator in silence, riding it all the way down to the parking garage, where your car was still there from this afternoon, all of those hours ago. 

You looked over at Spencer, tears in your eyes, having not said anything to him. 

As soon as he met your eyes, you dropped your bag, and Spencer wrapped his arms around you tightly, just holding you and resting his head on yours; trying to give you the comfort that he was rarely able to give you. 

Sobbing into his arms, you just tightly wrapped your arms around his torso and just held onto him tightly. Trying to decompress, trying to truly understand everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. 

It was Spencer who spoke first. 

“I’m so so sorry Y/n.” He whispered. “I never meant any of this to happen to you, and for you to get dragged back here and—” 

You shook your head slightly, but didn’t move from where you were. Neither of you did. 

“It’s what she wanted, Spence, and unfortunately for us, this was always bound to happen.” You whispered. 

The hug felt so good, but something about it was just so different. 

It’s not the way it used to be. 

“I need to go Spencer.” 

He nodded, and this time you moved away from him. His hand came up and wiped away one of the remaining tears on your cheek. 

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. 

“Oh fuck, why is this so fucking hard four years later.” You laughed, trying to regain any sort of composure. 

“Y/n…”

You took another step away from him and shook your head. 

“We can’t—I’m not.” You tried so hard to find the right words without bursting into tears again. “Spencer. I cannot put myself back to where I was four years ago. I can’t do it. And yes things have changed, but maybe that is for the better. Maybe you were always meant to be my maybe, and not my always.” 

You took another breath, but kept going. “You are amazing, and funny, and so smart Spence. But this…we ran our course. It didn’t work then, and I don’t know if I have it in me to try again just for it to fail.” 

“Y/n please.” 

“I will always love you but this…It’s time to…It’s time to stop. I have to go back to my life, and you go back upstairs to yours, with Prentiss and Rossi and Penelope and…Max.” 

Both of you winced as you said her name, but you took a step forward, moving to kiss him on the cheek. 

Spencer gently grabbed you face, giving you enough time to back out. 

You didn’t. 

His lips locked with yours, his thumb rubbing against your cheek as the two of you shared one more moment, just for the two of you. 

But it had to end. 

You couldn’t go back to the anxiety, the arguing, the petty disagreements. It wasn’t good for you. It was good for either of you. 

Stepping away again, you gently kissed his cheek, and started to slowly walk to your car. 

Right as you got to your car, you turned around and made eye contact with him one last time before the elevator doors closed, both of you with the most gut wrenching smile slightly plastered across your faces. 

You mouthed goodbye, unable to speak it out loud, and he nodded, tears filling his eyes as he whispered it back to you. 

The doors shut. 

You were all alone in this hollow parking garage. 

Your heart was aching, burning. 

But there was a sigh of relief, that came with the doors closing, and saying goodbye for the last, last time. 

[thatdisasterauthor]

Okay, let's talk federal jobs for a minute here. Because if we are going to bring up things like the FAA being understaffed and how it may have effected what happened with the crash in DC, we need to have an accurate picture of what is going on.

It is not Trump's fault (yet) that the FAA is understaffed. Yeah, it has been a chaotic as fuck week to work in any sort of federal job, yeah a lot of new hiring has been screwed up and a lot of scary things have been hurled at current federal workers. But we haven't actually seen the results of that yet. It JUST started.

Federal positions have been understaffed, in the FAA and otherwise, for AWHILE. There are tons of reasons behind those issues, but a big, big one is that getting hired to work ANY federal job takes fucking FOREVER and involves jumping through SO MANY hoops.

My basic, zero security clearance wildland forest dispatcher job with the forest service involved applying in October (with a 25 page resume that basically outlines everything I have ever done since I was born), a background check that took three days for me to fill out and involved contacting people I hadn't spoken to in YEARS (almost had to contact my mother who I am no contact with too), a drug test that I had to do at the drop of the hat ON THE DAY AFTER THE ELECTION, getting fingerprints done, and taking a two-hour road trip to a tiny little town because that was the only "local" place that had someone authorized to make my work ID for me (which involved ANOTHER set of fingerprints). Then I had to wait until January to know if I even might have gotten the job, and that was earlier than usual because they were scrambling to get people through the hiring system after the election. Then my actual start date isn't until MARCH.

So it will have been a nearly six month process for a BASIC job. And I'm lucky in that I don't have to move for the job because that would be a whole pile of nonsense. Other people spend a year or more going through the process of getting a federal job.

There's a lot of other reasons places are understaffed, but this stupidly long hiring process plays a big damn role. And it is only going to get longer as the various departments that handle hiring get gutted along with everything else.

[aamircoeur]

sweeeet ー vi, arcane.

wherein violet eagerly expresses just how much she loves sweets

WARNINGS 2nd pov, established toxic!relationship, female reader, titty-obsessed vi, jealous!reader, unedited

"and, and you even raised your eyebrow at her."

"here we fucking go again," violet scoffed.

"letting your hand linger when she handed you the stupid-ass glass," you recalled the moment that occurred earlier as if you had the image of it burned into your memory. "and you tell her, fuckin', "thanks, sweets"?" you mocked.

after a supposedly fun date night that the two of you had spontaneously planned, going home heated with one another surely wasn't part of it. your neck was craned to the side, piercing eyes staring deep into her baby blues, awaiting yet another one of her excuses.

violet rolled her eyes and kept them fixed on a random piece of furniture on her right side, seemingly too irritated to look back into your eyes. "you're overthinking it again, baby. i was just being nice to the girl. you're being jealous."

"oh, am i? i'm jealous? you rocked the shit out of a girl last week just because she winked at me, and i'm the jealous one?" you asked in disbelief, unsure how your situation even outweighs hers in her point of view.

violet furrowed her eyebrows as she grimaced at the memory. "she was flirting with ya, and you're defending her? you fuckin' stupid, baby?"

"how was she supposed to know that we were together, vi? you got us drinks, and it was an innocent approach!" you raised your voice as your arms moved as a demonstration of frustration towards your girlfriend.

"bullshit. wit' all the hickeys on your neck, she didn' know? stupid-ass. fuck, you were probably flirting with her too, dollface." violet took big steps to quickly close the gaps between the two of you. you tried your best to fight the intimidation, keeping your balled fists to your side.

"yeah, she probably was just a stupid-ass. but for sure your cupcake isn't one, huh?" you raised your eyebrows at her accusingly. "so smart, little kiramman. who the hell gave you the courage to put your arm around her while holding my hand? you'd probably fuck her while your fingers interlocked with mine when given the chance." you said sarcastically, jealousy over violet's ex girlfriend bubbling inside you.

violet sighed loudly and turned from you, taking a few steps away and kicking a chair in the process, a heavy clank echoing. "may janna give me the strength and patience i so necessarily need to deal with this woman," violet said, rubbing the sides of her face in deep frustration.

you stomped your feet and made your way towards the door out of your shared apartment. "didn't even fucking deny it. fucking enforcers," you said lowly as you made your way out.

"hey, waitー fuck, dollface! get back in here, 'm not done with your stubborn ass." she said, coming after you right before you fully stepped out of the place, pulling you back inside by the arm.

"no, no! we're done, get back with your kiramman, or whoever the hell you want your fingers in, violet, i don't care." you tried to pull away from her hold, your fingers attempting to get in between her grip on your arm in order to unclasp them, but it was no use with how intense violet's stare was to your now-heated face.

"we're not over until i say so, doll. is it your personal job to piss me off all the damn time?" she sneered, her teeth gritting at the harshly pronounced words.

"yeah, my job is just to piss you off again and again, and again," you pushed your body forward and pressed your chest against hers. violet's grip on your arm loosened as her hands found their way on your hips, bandaged fingers pushing against them harshly.

fighting the urge to squirm underneath her rough touch, you closed your eyes in order to avoid her unforgiving stare and balled your fists, holding your forearm against her chest to create distance between the two of you. "your fuckin' job?" violet echoed your words.

you whimpered as one of her hands slid down to your lower back until it found the curve of your ass, giving it a testing squeeze. "y-yeah, my job. mine alone." violet smirked at your words and pulled you closer, creating friction between your touched stomachs. your breaths gained volume as violet kept a steady and rough pace. "mine." you finished, as if she hasn't been yours since the beginning of time.

violet looked at you in amusement, her blues seeming to gain a spark in them. vi leaned down and placed open-mouth kisses to your left cheek, her eyes never leaving yours as if she was declaring who she belonged to. "is that so?" she murmured in between another kiss, followed by a heavy lick downwards to your exposed neck as you craned your head backwards.

you let out a shaky hum that nearly sounded so much like a whine, which violet certainly enjoyed. "tell me more about it, baby." said violet.

"iー ah," a swift bite to your right shoulder interrupted you, with violet's teeth retreating before it could leave a mark, as if testing the waters. your eyes met hers as she navigated her way through your upper chest and collarbones, familiar hands getting to know your body once more. "i hate the way you t.. treat her," you continued, breaths deep from the attention given and at the mention of kiramman. "i hate it."

violet peppered kisses all over your neck, tugging down on your shirt to reveal the curves of your chest. "i was just being nice," she repeated as she tried to fight the grin that was threatening to tug on her sly lips.

"oh, fuck being nice, vi." you groaned, pulling away from her touch for a second before she held your lower back and pulled you towards her completely, burying her face in your chest. you let out a huff of breath and looked to your side, deciding on whether or not to let the embarrassment creep in as you told her your unpleasant feelings. "'s fucking.. annoying."

the hold on your waist was tight and warm, her embrace locking you to her own body. violet inhaled your scent and kissed you through the fabric of your shirt. "sounds like you just need your pussy pounded, baby."

you groaned loudly and attempted to pull back once more in annoyance, which was effortlessly countered by violet's strong arms as she kept you locked in place, glued to her. "kidding, baby. i'm kidding," she said, as if offering peace to hopefully subside your anger. "i can stay away from 'er, don't worry, sweetheart." she added, her eyes looking big and genuine as the light of the room shined brightly in them as she looked up at you.

you held the sides of her face while your eyebrows knitted, a sign of defeat in the argument. "you promise?"

violet smiled and kissed the valley of your breasts. "yes," a peck. "yes, i promise," she added.

heavy breaths and the sound of vi's lips sucking on everything she could clasp it to filled the living room along with its cozy ambience. a whine left your lips as her rough fingertips tugged slightly on your left nipple as her warm tongue pressed against your other.

"sweet, sweet baby," violet moaned, feeling her underwear drench in arousal from hearing just how good she makes her girl feel. "you just needed attention, didn't you?" she hummed, eyeing her work of covering your chest with purple-hued bruises, before getting back to work and licking a long stripe along the curve of your breast.

your hand found its way to the ends of violet's hair, the tug making her thick eyebrows furrow, closed eyes opening and finding their way straight to yours with a glint of excitement. "hm?" you hummed teasingly at her unbreakable stare. violet continued her actions, her kisses getting wetter and sloppier, the familiar beer and mint smell of her lips lingering on your sticky skin. "i taste good?" you joked, hands lost in her bright pink locks.

violet smiled and perked your underboob before pressing her chin in the middle of your breasts before speaking. "mhm. tastes good, sweets." vi smiled.

you gave her a cheeky smile in return and tilted your head. "like a cupcake?" you giggled at your own joke.

violet's eyebrows pressed nearly together at the humor. "exactly like one," she answered, making your smile drop almost immediately which made her instinctively pull you closer to her before having the chance to pull away from your position as a loud laugh left her lips, as if annoying you.

"stupid."

violet smirked, "sure, baby. you gonna let me fuck you now?"

"whatever."

"attagirl."

[cbartonscoffee]

I think I've never been more aware of just how many people only get their info of the batfam through fanfic. I finally started reading Red Robin (2009) and I can not believe how many things are blown out of proportion. Particularly about Dick and Damian.

First of all, Dick does try to put limits and he does get fed up with Damian's ways sometimes. Out of the three first interactions of them in the comic, at least in two he tells him to shut up. And one of those is when Damian starts to brag about being Robin and Tim being useless, he tells him to shut up twice.

Another thing about that moment, is that they treat it like Dick completely dismisses Tim and treats him as unimportant. He doesn't. He takes him seriously, he tells him he needs him, he tells him he views his as an equal, as someone capable. And he also tells him he's concerned about him and that he needs to start processing Bruce's death. Could that have been a little harsh? Yes, but he needed to do it without making Tim think there was room for him to be convinced about his theory because let's be honest, Tim would've taken anything less than complete refusal and tried to change his mind. And had he been wrong neither of them could have taken it.

Secondly, Dick is always left to shoulder the blame of kicking Tim out and of never reaching out. That's bull. And I need to make that clear. Tim was in a delicate point, he tells us this himself multiple times, but the decision to leave was completely made out of his own free will. Another thing he did was put space between him and the people on Gotham. We see only one time in which Dick tries to call him. Tim picks up and tells him he doesn't want to talk. This tells us that Dick respecting Tim's wish of space included almost no (or even no) contact, and Dick calling was not something Tim appreciated or encouraged.

Now. Going into the second year of the run, when he's back in Gotham, there's a few things to talk about and I'm still in the aftermath of Damian and Tim's fight.

I feel it's important to say that even if they are all family, more often than not they're doing their own thing. Like, Babs and Steph are in the Batcave while Dick and Damian are in Wayne Tower, Cass is said to potentially be in Hong Kong and we haven't even heard Jason be name-dropped except for the fact that he went on a rampage at some point.

So, Dick is immediately called away in League business. So he isn't there. Damian is behaving fairly civil besides being a brat, so no one wastes too much effort in correcting what he says. We need to think about the fact that this is a kid whose world was turned upside down multiple times in a short period of time, who has a need to be accepted, and who hasn't yet found his place. All this is to say, that if it's difficult to get him to eat breakfast there's no way they're controlling his every move and that's understandable.

So Dick is away, Damian is still trying to adapt, Alfred has his hands full and everyone else is doing something else.

The whole thing starts because Tim is being kind of cryptic about what he's doing with his hit list and Damian feels left out and goes looking for more. He finds his name in a hidden double side of the hit list marking him as a threat. He understandably feels hurt and angry, because he's a kid, and he's trying, and his predecessor who at this point doesn't even try with him anymore views him as something bad.

So in classic Damian fashion, he falls back on his upbringing and doesn't deal with the situation as one should, talking about it. Instead he cuts team line, hurting before being hurt. It could've been worse, we see in the panel that Tim doesn't have that much of a hard time getting safely to the ground. The problem is that he snaps and starts a full-blown fight he knows Damian won't back out off. (I'm pleased to add that after cutting his line Damian doesn't start anything else)

So they are fighting, Tim has the clear advantage and he knows this, we know this. And that's how Dick finds them. Having just returned from a JL mission, in the place where the Waynes were murdered, with Tim having overpowered Damian.

They go back to the cave and Damian shares his findings, and Dick understands. And Tim tells him he (Dick) knows why he (Tim) did it. Dick agrees, and tells him he should have tried to make it harder to find. Tim says he hadn't thought Damian would try or even care. Dick tells him Damian wants to be accepted.

All in all, so far the only thing this comic has proven to me is that there's a reason comics are the bomb and that fanon has gotten out of hand. I get making things out to be worse for the sake of a story, but everything surrounding these events is basically used as the foundation for Damian and Tim's relationship as well as Dick and Tim's and I don't think I've once read a fanfic where these events are portrayed correctly or even following the real motivations of the characters. This is a disservice to all of them and only serves to amplify the hate towards a character that doesn't deserve it. There's a lot of Damian hate going around. And it sucks. Mostly because people use his actions against Tim to justify it and honestly? I don't think you should be allowed to use that if you haven't read RR and understood what was going on.

[soaringwide]

PAC: How can you grow from this difficult situation? make lemonade

A bit of a general reading inspired by me struggling with some things in life and I know I'm probably not the only one...

This is a new pick a picture tarot reading inspired by the saying ''When life gives you lemons, make lemonade", where I'll look at a difficult situation you are currently experiencing and help you make something positive out of it.

This is a general reading meant for multiple people so it might not resonates perfectly to your situation. Take what resonates and leave out the rest.

book a reading ★ all PACs ★ testimonials

PILE 1 - lilac lemon

The situation you are struggling with has to do with the established order of things; a leadership of some type. Perhaps political, perhaps your workplace, perhaps a religious structure. Something that exists outside of you and that has a lot of eyes on it and people participating in it. It seems whatever this is referring to is weighting heavily on you; it is too much, too noisy, too exhausting, and you are in deep need of rest and some type of inner silence. Perhaps there is also the idea of finding your way back to truth beyond this smokey veil. It also seems that this leadership makes you think that there is no long term plan, a lack of foresight that will have negative consequences on your own life and you feel unable to go against that as it's so much bigger than you. It's like your own plans and dreams for the future are being stopped and the future is uncertain.

How to turn lemons into lemonade? Here the message points at claiming back sovereignty in your own life. You are not as hopeless as you think you are and there are things you can put into place to take back the leader's role at your own level. You don't have to agree to what's being said to you, you don't have to act the way this power wants you to. Your soul is free and King/Queen. Change starts with yourself. Your inability to see a way out speaks more of your own inner blockages and mental blindfolds than what reality. Things need to change and there is no point clinging onto the past and trying to do the same things and expect things to go back to what they were, because they won't. This situation calls for radical actions, things that were not done before, so that you can call for a different result. Not gonna lie the process will be tumultuous, and, again, it starts within yourself; but you will come out of it stronger as an individual.

Something that can help you on this quest is about looking inward for answers and don't get swayed by what is being said outside. Resist and don't let go of what you feel is wrong. You know justice. You know truth. We are all equals and no human power is above that. Dust to dust.

PILE 2 - flower lemon

For this pile, it seems that this situation relates to your career. You are at a point where everything that could be gained from this has been gained, which feels unsatisfying and not enough, yet that's all you could get. There is a need to leave conflict behind and cut out your losses, and by that I mean that in no way you feel like a winner here but you're trying to aim for the least harmful outcome. There is a desire to build a more stable state of financial comfort and balance for yourself, but it feels a bit like something you don't really believe in or trust in, it feels constricted and pessimistic. Why it's a difficult situation is because while you want to move on and leave this behind, you don't really have a plan, your energy feels scattered, like you're trying to rush forward without any idea of how to direct your focus. It makes you impulsive and directionless, acting one day on a whim because you feel XYZ and going in another direction the next because you had a change of heart. So yeah it's making the situation harder to navigate than necessary, and I'm sensing it is mostly rooted in your performance anxiety and a heavy heart and overactive mind, rather than a lack of opportunities outside of you.

How can you turn this sourness into sweetness? Here the cards talk about getting back on track by bringing resolve and discipline into your life. You might currently be trapping yourself by being too hard on yourself on some aspects, such as expecting perfection in your behaviors and the outcomes you can get, like expecting immediate success, while also being too lenient with yourself in other aspects, which might include not putting in the work or letting yourself go to waste in the daily chaos of a scattered mind. I just really need to add that being disciplined doesn't have to be a dry and painful thing. A good leader is not ruthless and you need to be a good leader to yourself. That means understanding your limitations but pushing yourself gently when necessary. It means having a clear mind regarding the steps you need to take, but also a good heart that can be empathetic to yourself, your struggles and the fluctuations of your energy and emotions on the day to day. I'm also getting simply that giving yourself the possibility to reach out for the opportunities you yearn for will be a big improvement, as I really thing there is a lack of action here and too many chaotic thoughts. That also means investing your energy smartly, to plant the seed for future you. Start today by doing one thing, unwind, and continue the next day. If today was not as good as you wanted it to be, it's okay, it's not a failure, it's just your journey, and tomorrow is another day.

I also think working on your mindset could help. If you believe good things are ahead of you, you're more likely to have high spirits which will make putting in the work toward success easier and more pleasurable. You don't need to be delusional about it, realistically if you keep trying, you're bound to see progress in one way or another, or learn enough from the process than you can correct course and aim better towards success.

PILE 3 - stripe lemon

The situation you are currently confronted with has to do with waiting some time of decision that will have an impact on your future. I kinda have this image of things being weighted behind the scenes, processes are being run, and you don't have much insight on what is happening. There are many obscured elements here, things that happen outside of your control. So I think whilst all of this is happening, you're thinking a lot and trying to figure out a plan whether things go one way or the other, trying to prepare yourself for the future without knowing what it will hold. I also think part of you is focusing as much as possible on what can be done in the moment, getting busy with tasks in order to strengthen what you can, like putting money aside or trying to find other money making streams, again in preparation for this big judgement or decision. In a way, you gaze cannot look into the future as it is obscured, the only things you can do is build your defenses with what you have, and turn your gaze inward. So I also think you are currently focusing on yourself quite a lot and trying to sense things more than rationally learn them. Intuition over intel so to speak, and remembering your personal power of survival and change.

This situation is an opportunity to ask yourself what it is you want to achieve next. To dream, to imagine the future. You've been quite stagnant for a while, and you still are, but things are about to change, the timing will vary, but it won't stay like this forever. You need to ask yourself what it is you wish for, what you want your future life to look like. Only by wishing first can you then start the chain reaction that will lead to movement and transformation. This all start with yourself. With an idea. With an impulse. One day the time of collaboration and learning through exchanges will come, but right now you are relatively alone and you can gain a lot from that process. Lots of inner growth and realizations. Finally, some things are outside of your control right now and you can't prepare for everything. Things are about to change in ways you might not expect or not expect fully. So try not to drive yourself insane trying to guess the future but just ride the wave, you will get through it.

PILE 4 - outline lemon

This is the love situation pile for those who currently are at a standstill. There is magnetic attraction, desire, deep interest, and a potential you can't seem to look away from. Yet, things are not happening the way you want them to, or not happening at all. This lack of movement is creating two things within you. 1) it puts you in a catastrophic and self sabotaging mindset where you kinda want to throw a kick at the thing in order to run it to the ground once and for all and be done with it. There is anger and desperation but also deep sadness and regrets. 2) you snap out of it and decide you're going to do something about it by taking the lead and trying to make the things you want to happen, happen. However nothing goes the way you want them to and it seems you are making things worse rather than doing anything good, so you go back to 1).

So you're wondering about cutting your losses and moving on. Taking what you've learned and what you became with this relationship as it is/was, and try to find something better to settle and expand. However this idea is far from bringing you the peace you want. It feels like giving up. It feels like waste. You are struggling a lot with what to do and you feel like you need to do something, one last thing before giving up fully, but what?

What positive thing can be gained from this situation? Ok so this is not a relationship reading, it is meant more to see what YOU can gain from this right now than what's gonna happen with your person. It's on your level and the other person is not really in the picture. That said, let's dive into this.

This situation calls for learning to balance yourself. There are times to take risks, but they need to be calculated. To be taken at the right time and in measured ways. It is saying that you have a great power when it comes to your ability to take actions, to follow your intuition and communicate your ideas, but as things are things might be a bit all over the place and need to be brought back into balance. Mastering this way of being will always be useful, regardless of the situation, but it seems especially important in the situation we are talking about today.

(It's quite hilarious because I was just about to write that I was confused about the importance of actions and thoughts/communication in this part of the reading (I had King of Wands and Queen of Swords), and how the Cups of the Heart was missing. And then I draw the Queen of Cups. Anyway.)

I think this is about calming your very active and heated mind in order to let your heart shine through. Because, in the end, it's your heart that will lead you towards the right actions and the right words. And you can't hear anything when everything is chaos, despair and confusion. Let things rest. The wisdom of the heart whispers, it doesn't scream. Focus on the beauty and the good things this situation is bringing you, not what you want it to be. I think you lost track of that. When the time comes, you will know what to do.

[rafes-slut]

Discipline

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x brat!reader

Warnings: Smut, spanking, belt play, dom/sub dynamics, brat taming, rough punishment, mild pain play, degradation, slight aftercare, explicit language.

Summary: you acted like brat whole day and once he gets you home he spanked you as punishment

---

You had been pushing Rafe’s buttons all day.

It started in the morning—rolling your eyes when he spoke, making little comments under your breath, purposely ignoring him when he told you to do something. It only got worse as the day went on. You tested his patience, challenging him with your attitude, smirking when you caught the way his jaw clenched, how his fingers twitched like he was itching to put you in your place.

You were being a brat, and you knew it.

Rafe let it slide for a while, but you could see the tension building in him, feel it in the way he gripped your waist a little too tightly or the way his voice dropped an octave when he warned you to “watch it.”

But you didn’t listen.

And now, as soon as the two of you stepped foot in his house, Rafe wasted no time.

"Upstairs. Now." His voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument.

A shiver ran down your spine, but you did as he said, walking up the stairs with Rafe close behind. The moment you stepped into his room, his hand was on your wrist, yanking you towards the counter.

"You think it's cute? Acting like a fucking brat all day?" His voice was low, dangerous, sending a rush of heat straight between your legs.

You barely had a second to respond before he spun you around, bending you over the counter. His hand pressed against the small of your back, keeping you in place as he pushed your skirt up to your waist, exposing your ass to him.

"You know I hate it when you act like this," he muttered, his voice laced with irritation—and something darker.

You gasped when he grabbed your wrists, pulling them behind your back, pinning them together with one hand so you couldn’t move.

The sound of his belt unbuckling sent a fresh wave of anticipation through you. You whined softly, shifting slightly, but Rafe’s grip tightened.

"Stay still," he warned. "And count."

You barely had time to process before the first slap landed.

A sharp sting bloomed across your skin, making you jolt against the counter. Your breath caught, but you forced the word out.

"One."

Another slap, harder this time.

"Two."

The leather kissed your skin again, and you bit your lip, heat spreading through you, pooling deep in your stomach.

"Three."

Rafe's free hand smoothed over the marks he was leaving, soothing the sting before striking again. Your legs trembled, but he held you in place, unrelenting.

"Four," you choked out, voice slightly shaky.

By the time he reached ten, your body was burning—both from the punishment and the unbearable need building inside you.

But then, you hesitated. You lost count.

Rafe tsked. "Guess we start over."

"Wait—"

The belt came down again, and you gasped, the sharp sting making your eyes flutter.

"One."

You whimpered, realizing he wasn’t going to stop until you gave him what he wanted.

"I—I’m sorry," you finally breathed out, voice shaking. "I'm sorry for being a brat."

Rafe hummed in approval, his hand soothing over your warm skin. "That’s more like it."

He finally let go of your wrists, and you slumped against the counter, breathless. But before you could fully catch your breath, his hands were on your hips, pulling you back against him.

"You took your punishment so well, baby," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "Now let's see if you can be a good girl for me."