#any and all constructive feedback is welcome just please be kind

[juniperskye]

I’m Sorry…What?

Based on the following ask: Established relationship but it’s secret from the team. The team think they don’t like each other but in truth they are deeply in love with each other but the team don’t let them always be alone together out of worry so there have been a few close calls where they almost get caught until reader and Aaron room together and finally talk about maybe telling the team only the way they tell them is threw wedding invites and that’s shocks the team and they all have questions to which reader and Aaron only smile thinking how funny it is that a team of profilers never found them out. Love this idea! In this, Derek kind of looks out for the reader – very “big brother” behavior from him in this.

Aaron Hotchner x Fiance BAU! Fem Reader

Fluff

Word count: 1617

Not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, meddling profilers, canon typical violence, mention of stabbing and hospitals, mention of wedding related activities, let me know if I missed anything!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You stood from your desk, just about to head up to Hotch’s office with a file when Emily stopped you. Her hand resting on your forearm gently, her eyes meeting your own.

“I have to go drop this file off, let me take yours.”

“Oh, Emily it’s okay. I can take them.” You moved to grab her file.

“Girl, it’s okay…I know how hard he is on you.” Emily stood, patted your shoulder and took the files to Hotch’s office.

--

Things had been like this pretty much since the moment you’d joined the BAU. For whatever reason, everyone on the team had just assumed that you and Hotch hated each other…that you two couldn’t even be in the same room as one another without fighting. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

See, what the team didn’t know was that Aaron and you were engaged. The two of you were dating even before you had joined the BAU. You had been working with a different team within the FBI, having a background in behavior analysis…moving to the BAU when a spot opened up, that just made sense.

Aaron and you had agreed to keep things strictly professional at work to avoid any discomfort within the workplace. Apparently that choice was now biting you in the ass.

Working with profilers, you’d think the secret of your relationship would have come out a long time ago, that being said, doesn’t mean there haven’t been some close calls.

--

This had started early on in you career with the BAU. Aaron had avoided pairing the two of you together, simply to avoid any suspicion of your relationship. The team, however, took this as him not warming up to your presence on the team.

Then it was him “benching” you. Aaron for a period of time had kept you in the local precincts on cases, you knew this was because he was worried about you getting hurt, but the team saw this as him questioning your abilities. They all reassured you that you were an asset to the team, more than capable in the field. Morgan had gone as far as confronting Aaron about the way he was mistreating you.

What really sealed this theory in your teammate’s heads was the way Aaron and you sparred. During debriefings the two of you would go back and forth through numerous theories, jabbing at one another for how “ridiculous” the other one was being. While to the team this looked argumentative…it really was how the two of you were, always pushing one another, wanting them to be the best they can be. Unafraid to challenge one another.

Everything was different after that. The team worked overtime to keep things light when the two of you were around one another. They would step into conversations, inserting themselves when it wasn’t necessary. They would jump in and offer to pair with one of you, so you’d never be stuck one-on-one.

At first you found it kind of funny, laughing internally at their crazy antics, but now that you were engaged, it was getting increasingly annoying. You’d just wanted some alone time with your fiancé and they were making it impossible.

--

You had gone to get a fresh cup of coffee to help you get through the remainder of your paperwork. Upon entering the kitchenette, you came face to face with your fiancé.

“Hey sweetheart.” He quietly greeted.

“Hi hon.” You smiled.

Aaron passed you a cup of coffee before moving to fill a second one for himself. He’d been this way since the beginning, always putting you first no matter what. You offered him thanks and stood with him for a moment, enjoying the proximity.

“I got a call earlier from the florist, she sent over the invoice. I also sent the deposit to the caterer this morning.” You informed.

“For the flowers, peonies right? Did you decide on pink or whi-”

“Everything okay in here?” Morgan bounded into the kitchenette. “You guys look tense…please tell me you weren’t fighting again.”

“Nope, everything is good! I was just heading back to my desk.” You said before making your exit.

--

The next slip up was while away on a case. You had been with Derek interviewing someone that happened to be the unsub, only you hadn’t been aware of that going in.

He had pulled a knife and moved quickly, leaving you with a nasty stab to the gut. You were lucky that it hadn’t hit anything major. You’d waved Derek off, telling him to go after the unsub.

After apprehending the guy, Derek made his way back to you to check in and make sure you were okay. He had called the team and for a medic, not leaving your side.

When Aaron showed up he was livid. The team took that as anger for your “mistake”, not realizing that his anger was directed toward himself – he was beating himself up for having sent you in there, putting you in this situation.

He rode with you in the ambulance to the hospital…giving the rest of the team time to talk about how he was probably reprimanding you. But once again, it couldn’t have been further from the truth. He had held you hand and reassured you the whole way to the hospital.

The team met him there and waited by his side as you were tended to. And when the doctor came out and called your name, asking for family, Aaron didn’t hesitate to rise to his feet, barely catching himself and mentally correcting fiancé to boss.

--

After that, the team did everything they could to keep the two of you separated or at least had someone with you to act as a buffer. It was becoming exhausting – you’d been trying to give Aaron an update about some stuff for the wedding and you just couldn’t get the chance.

The two of you would end up rapidly firing through topics once you arrived home for the evening, trying to catch one another up on wedding tasks, work tasks, and just everyday things.

 “Aaron…have you thought about how much easier things would be if we just told the team about us?”

“Yes I have. Why do you ask?” He admitted.

“Just, well…they’ve been annoying lately.” You huffed. “I don’t mean to sound rude, you know I love them. But they just won’t quit, I can’t get even a second alone with you at work and it is getting ridiculous.”

“You’re right. When you were in the hospital last month, I almost let it slip in front of them. If it’s what you want, let’s tell them.” Aaron agreed.

And thus began your planning of how you’d tell the most oblivious group of profilers that the two of you didn’t hate each other but were actually engaged to be married.

--

It took about a week and a half before you could officially tell the team your little secret. You had been waiting for your invitations to come in so you could hand deliver a few to your team…it would be the perfect announcement.

“Round table in five.” Aaron called out into the bullpen.

“Shit…he seems pissed.” Emily hissed.

You couldn’t help but giggle, knowing full well he was anything but pissed. Emily and you went and collected everyone, bringing them to the round table. There were hushed whispers about what this could be about, and when Penelope mentioned there wasn’t a new case, you could feel the anxiety filling the room.

--

Aaron made his way in, his hands holding a neat stack of pale pink envelopes. You couldn’t help but notice the way he commanded a room, his mere presence demanding the attention of those around him. This is what had initially drawn you to him all those years ago.

“I have something for each of you. I’d like you to wait to open them until everyone has one.” Aaron announced.

He passed them out one by one, the room remaining silent the entire time. It didn’t take long for everyone to notice that you were the only one who didn’t receive an envelope.

“Hotch man, if this is some kind of sick power move then I swear I will-” Derek began.

“Please, open them.” You spoke before standing up and making your way to Aaron’s side.

Confusion painted its way across everyone’s faces. Hands working quickly to open the envelopes they’d been handed. You were shaking with anticipation, and you couldn’t help the little smirk that made its way to your lips when the confusion was quickly replaced with shock.

“I’m sorry…what?” Penelope asked.

“What the hell is this?” Derek questioned.

Everyone began talking at once, talking about whether or not this was a joke. Asking if one another knew, and how long this had been going on.

“Guys!” You called. “Aaron and I have been together for a few years, well before I started with the BAU. We got engaged about seven months ago…and well, we’d love it if you all would be there for us.” You smiled.

“I KNEW IT!” Rossi laughed. “I told you all from the beginning that they didn’t hate one another, they love each other, and you all swore that they hated each other.”

--

Four months later, the BAU team stood by your sides as you said your vows and committed yourselves to one another.

And while the team dynamic shifted slightly with them knowing the two of you are together, and with there being two Agent Hotchners now, the one thing that didn’t change was that this team was family and you all were there for one another no matter what.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust

[coloraturadiva]

Afterburn (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC One shot)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC (Stephanie)

Summary:  Jake Seresin returns to his Texas home after a long absence, haunted by the loss of a comrade and the weight of his choices, grappling with regret and the realization that some wounds may never fully heal.

Warnings: angst, ANGST, character's death, marriage issues, absent father, fighting, and hopefully I didn't miss anything.

Word Count: 6000

A/N: english is not my first language (or even the second) and this story hasn't been betaed, I just had some help from Grammarly.

My personal and love life has been so angsty lately, so I guess I want everybody to suffer like me 😅

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

Feedback, reblogs and constructive criticism are always appreciated!

Please don’t post any of my content anywhere else without my permission. Comments and reblogs welcome!

AFTERBURN

The setting sun bathed the Texas countryside in a golden haze, the kind that seemed to stretch out forever, blurring the lines between earth and sky. The air was thick with the scent of dry grass and wildflowers, mingling with the faint sweetness of honeysuckle that clung to the breeze. Jake Seresin gripped the steering wheel loosely, his knuckles brushing against the smooth leather as the truck rumbled along the winding country road. It had been long since he’d driven these roads, but the rhythm of the turns felt ingrained, like an old song you never quite forget.

He rolled down the window, letting the warm evening air rush in. It carried the faint hum of cicadas, their rhythmic chirping rising and falling like a lullaby. The sound was as familiar as the taste of his grandmother’s sweet tea, a reminder of summers spent running barefoot through fields and climbing trees. The horizon burned in shades of amber and crimson, painting the fields in fiery hues that seemed to set the world ablaze. Fences lined the road, weathered and leaning, but still holding strong. Beyond them, cattle grazed lazily, their silhouettes sharp against the dying light. He caught sight of a sprawling live oak tree, its gnarled branches stretching wide as if to embrace the fading light. The tree’s shadow stretched long and thin across the road, a dark ribbon cutting through the golden landscape. He’d climbed that tree once as a kid, on a dare from his friends. He’d sat up there for hours, watching the world from above, thinking about everything and nothing at all.

Jake’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The memories were a comfort, but they also weighed heavy. The road ahead stretched out in endless curves, each mile bringing him closer to something he wasn’t sure he was ready for. The fields on either side seemed to close in, the tall grass swaying like a silent audience, watching him return to a place he’d left behind. He hadn’t been home in too long. Too many excuses, too many days spent somewhere else. The Navy had been his life, his purpose, but it came with a price. A price he was still tallying.

As the truck crested a hill, the landscape opened up before him. The wide-open plains seemed to breathe, endless and free, the golden light catching on the tips of the grass like fireflies. It was beautiful, in a quiet, understated way. Jake slowed the truck, letting the moment settle over him. The sunset seemed to linger here, as if it, too, didn’t want to leave, the sky a canvas of deepening oranges and purples. He leaned his arm against the door, resting his chin on his hand for a moment, eyes scanning the familiar sights.

There was the old tree by the river, the one he’d carved his initials into when he was twelve. The bark was rough and weathered now, the initials barely visible, but the memory was as sharp as the day he’d made them. The barn in the distance, its red paint faded to a muted rust. The structure leaned slightly to one side, as if tired from years of standing guard over the land. And the sky—so big it felt like it could swallow him whole. He’d always loved that about Texas, the way the sky seemed endless, like it was daring you to dream bigger, reach higher. But tonight, the sky felt different. The dreams it offered weren’t the ones he’d chased for years. They were quieter, simpler. The kind of dreams he hadn’t let himself think about in too long.

His chest tightened, and he shifted in his seat, pressing his foot on the gas. The engine roared softly in response, and the truck picked up speed, eating away at the last few miles. The wind whipped through the open window, carrying with it the faint scent of rain, though the sky was clear. It was the kind of smell that promised a storm, even if it never came. Jake wasn’t sure what he’d find when he got home. The thought twisted inside him, a knot of uncertainty and hope. He let out a slow breath, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel as he tried to focus on the road, on the present, on the way the fading light turned the world golden.

Whatever waited for him, he told himself, he could handle it. He had to. The road curved again, and he followed it, chasing the horizon, chasing the light. The sunset wouldn’t last forever, but for now, it was enough to guide him home.

-- - -- - - -

Jake Seresin was everything the Navy dreamed of when it came to their fighter pilots. He was a natural—the kind of aviator who seemed born to be in the cockpit. Every movement he made, every decision, carried a precision that spoke to thousands of hours of training, honed instinct, and a rare kind of brilliance that couldn’t be taught. The F/A-18 felt like an extension of himself, as though it responded not just to his hands but to his thoughts. In the air, he was untouchable—a predator with a keen eye and nerves that stayed steady even in the most chaotic moments.

His colleagues often joked that he could fly through a hurricane and come out the other side without a scratch. There was some truth to it. Jake had an uncanny ability to keep his head when everyone else was losing theirs. When the stakes were highest, when lives were on the line, he thrived. It wasn’t just skill; it was a kind of unshakable confidence that bordered on arrogance. That confidence earned him respect from some and resentment from others.

To those who admired him, Jake was the poster boy of the Navy. His sharp jawline, perfectly tousled dark blonde hair, and piercing green eyes didn’t hurt either, but behind the carefully crafted image was a man who knew exactly how good he was and wasn’t afraid to show it. That attitude didn’t sit well with everyone. Some of his peers found him cocky, too sure of himself. They whispered that he was more interested in being a legend than a team player.

Jake didn’t pay much attention to the gossip. He lived alone in a sleek, modern bungalow just a few miles from the naval base in San Diego. The house was all clean lines and large windows, perched on a hill that offered a stunning view of the ocean. Inside, it was meticulously kept, a reflection of the man himself. It was a bachelor’s home, though not in the clichéd sense. There were no signs of wild parties or fleeting romances. Just quiet, ordered spaces—a sanctuary from the demands of his career.

Still, rumors swirled. Jake Seresin, with his movie-star looks and easy charm, was a favorite topic of speculation. He was seen laughing with women at bars, flashing that effortless grin that seemed to make people gravitate toward him. Some swore they’d seen him leaving with someone, though no one ever had proof. Others insisted he had a string of women waiting for him in every city. If Jake was aware of the talk, he never acknowledged it. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation.

The truth was, he kept his personal life as tightly controlled as everything else. Work came first, always. His focus on being the best, on pushing himself further, left little room for anything else. And if he had secrets, they were buried deep, locked away behind that confident smile and the impenetrable shield of his persona.

In the air, Jake Seresin was unmatched. On the ground, he was an enigma. And that was just the way he liked it.

- - - - - 

The gravel crunched under the tires as Jake turned onto the narrow driveway, his truck's headlights cutting through the encroaching dusk. The house came into view, perched at the end of the long stretch of drive like an old photograph brought to life. It hadn’t changed much, not in all the years he’d known it. The wraparound porch still hugged the front, and the paint—white, now fading to a gentle gray—still clung stubbornly to the wooden siding.

Jake killed the engine and sat there for a moment, letting the silence settle around him. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles whitening as he stared at the house. He exhaled slowly, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort, before finally releasing his grip and running a hand through his hair. This place had always felt different. It wasn’t just a house; it was a time capsule. Stephanie’s grandmother had lived here once, years ago, back when summer afternoons meant lemonade on the porch and laughter echoing through the big yard. Even then, the house had felt like the center of the world, warm and steady, full of life. He’d never expected it to become theirs, but when it did, it felt right. It was a piece of history, of her history, and now, of his too.

He smiled faintly as a memory bubbled up, unbidden. He and Stephanie couldn’t have been more than sixteen, maybe seventeen, the summer they decided to fix up the old barn. Her grandmother had mentioned it offhand one day, saying it would be nice if the door didn’t stick every time she tried to open it. Jake had jumped at the chance to impress Stephanie, and the two of them had spent days sanding and painting under the sweltering Texas sun. They’d ended up covered in sawdust and streaks of white paint, laughing so hard they could barely stand when Stephanie’s grandmother, Mary, brought out a pitcher of iced tea and insisted they take a break.

“You two look like you’ve been wrestling a cloud,” her grandmother had said, shaking her head with a smile. They’d sat there on the porch steps, sipping tea and listening to the cicadas, feeling like the world could wait forever.

His fingers lingered on the door handle as nerves twisted in his stomach. It wasn’t like him to feel this way. In the cockpit, he was unshakable, his confidence carved from steel. But here, on this quiet patch of earth, with this house standing like a sentinel of everything that mattered, he felt something closer to uncertainty. He exhaled sharply and stepped out of the truck, the cool evening air brushing against his skin.

The porch steps creaked under his weight, just as he remembered. He paused halfway up, his hand gripping the railing as if to steady himself. His heart pounded in his chest, each step feeling heavier than the last. He’d spent countless evenings here, sitting side by side with Stephanie, watching the sun sink into the horizon, their voices blending with the symphony of cicadas. Now, those memories seemed to rise from the wood itself, each step a whisper of the past.

Jake hesitated at the door, his knuckles hovering just above the wood. His hand trembled slightly, and he clenched it into a fist before knocking, the sound sharp and final in the quiet evening. The faint glow of a light inside spilled through the curtains, and his chest tightened at the thought of who might be waiting. He clenched his jaw, summoning the same determination that carried him through dogfights and endless training missions. Whatever came next, he would face it. He had to.

With one final breath, he knocked on the door.

- - - - - - - - 

The roar of the F/A-18 engines filled Jake’s ears as he soared over the ocean, the carrier a distant memory below. It was supposed to be a routine mission—a patrol over contested airspace—the kind of assignment that called for vigilance but rarely escalated into anything more. Jake, call sign “Hangman,” flew in formation with his squadron, the sun glinting off their wings as they carved through the open sky.

Ahead and to his left was Lieutenant Mark “Hawk” Turner, one of the newer pilots in their group. Hawk was solid. Not flashy, but reliable. They weren’t particularly close, but Jake respected him. Hawk had a steady hand and a calm demeanor, the kind of guy you didn’t mind having on your wing. Hawk had mentioned his family once or twice—a wife named Carly and a baby boy, barely six months old. Jake hadn’t thought much about it at the time...

The ambush came out of nowhere. A warning blared in Jake’s headset, followed by a scramble of voices over comms. Enemy jets, sleek and fast, appeared on the radar, closing the distance with alarming speed. Jake’s pulse quickened, but his mind stayed sharp, instincts kicking in as he broke formation and banked hard to the right.

“Hangman, I’ve got your six,” Hawk’s voice came through, steady despite the chaos.

“Copy that, Hawk,” Jake replied, his hands flying over the controls. “Watch your flank.”

The first missile streaked past, missing him by inches. Jake rolled into an evasive maneuver, his vision narrowing as adrenaline surged through him. He returned fire, locking onto one of the enemy jets and watching it explode into a ball of fire and smoke.

“Splash one,” he called, but there was no time to savor the victory. Another jet was on his tail, and he pulled into a steep climb, the g-forces pressing him back into his seat. The sky was a blur of motion—tracers, missiles, and contrails weaving a deadly tapestry around them. Hawk’s voice was in his ear again, cool but urgent, directing the others as the squadron fought to regain control of the situation.

Jake managed to take out a second enemy, his reflexes razor-sharp as he fired off another missile. But in the chaos, he caught a flash of movement on his radar that made his stomach drop. Hawk was in trouble, two jets closing in on him.

“Hawk, break left! Break left!” Jake shouted, pulling hard on his stick to intercept. He could hear Hawk’s strained breathing, the tension in his voice as he tried to shake his pursuers.

“I’m hit,” Hawk said, the words clipped and final.

Jake’s heart pounded as he scanned the sky, searching for a sign of Hawk’s jet. Smoke trailed behind it, spiraling downward, and then—a fireball. The explosion was bright against the blue, a terrible blossom of flame and debris. Jake’s stomach turned, but there was no time to process it. He had to focus, to keep himself and the others alive.

The battle ended minutes later, the surviving enemy jets retreating as the squadron regrouped. Jake’s cockpit was suffocatingly quiet, the adrenaline fading and leaving behind a heavy emptiness. As they turned back toward the carrier, his eyes flicked to the empty space in formation where Hawk should have been. He felt the weight of it settle over him, a mix of anger and guilt clawing at his chest.

He thought of Carly and the baby—the family Hawk had talked about with quiet pride. Jake’s jaw tightened, his grip on the controls white-knuckled. He’d done everything he could, hadn’t he? Two kills, two less threats in the sky. But it hadn’t been enough. Hawk wasn’t coming home.

By the time Jake’s wheels touched down on the carrier, the reality had sunk in. He climbed out of the cockpit and stood on the deck, the salty wind biting at his face. Around him, the crew bustled, but their movements felt distant, muted. Jake stayed rooted, staring out at the endless horizon. For all his skill, for all his training, he couldn’t shake the bitter truth that even the best pilots couldn’t win every fight.

Hawk’s absence was a hole in the formation, a reminder of how fragile it all was. And as the sun dipped below the waves, Jake made a silent promise to himself: to fly smarter, to fight harder, to never forget the cost of what they did out here. Because he couldn’t let himself forget. Not now. Not ever.

_ _ _ _ 

The porch light flickered as Jake stood under its glow, his boots rooted to the wooden planks. The cool night air brushed against him, but it wasn’t the wind that made him shiver. It was the thought of what waited on the other side of the door. He’d knocked already, the sound echoing through the quiet of the Texas countryside, and now he waited, heart pounding in his chest. The warmth of the house, the faint glow spilling through the curtains, felt like another world entirely—a world he’d left behind.

The door creaked open, and there she was. Stephanie. Her blonde hair caught the light like a halo, and her blue eyes—those same eyes that had once looked at him with so much love—now narrowed in guarded recognition. She froze for a moment, her expression shifting from surprise to something colder, sharper. Her arms crossed over her chest, a defensive barrier he couldn’t hope to breach.

“Jake,” she said, her tone as frosty as the night air. It wasn’t a question. Just his name, flat and emotionless, like a closed door.

He swallowed hard, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His hands fidgeted at his sides, fingers twitching as if searching for something to hold onto. “Stephanie,” he began, his voice steady, though his hands betrayed him, fidgeting at his sides. “I know I… I should’ve called or… something. But I had to see you. To see them.”

Her jaw tightened, and she shifted her weight, still blocking the doorway. Her foot tapped lightly against the floor, a small, impatient movement that spoke volumes. “You should’ve thought about that before,” she said, each word deliberate, cutting.

He nodded, exhaling slowly. His shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of her words pressing down on him. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. But, Stephanie, please. Just hear me out. Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“Five minutes won’t undo months,” she said, her voice low. She hadn’t moved, her arms still crossed, her posture unyielding. But she hadn’t closed the door either.

Jake’s hands flexed, and he took a small step forward, careful not to cross the threshold. “Stephanie, I’ve been a damn fool. I know that now. Losing Hawk…” His voice cracked for a moment, but he pushed through. “It made me realize what I’ve been risking. What I’ve already lost. I can’t… I can’t keep pretending my job is the only thing that matters. It’s not. You are. The kids are. And I… I know I screwed up, okay? But I’m here now. I’m here to make it right. Please.”

Stephanie’s gaze didn’t soften. If anything, it grew colder. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she tilted her chin up slightly, as if daring him to say more. “You don’t get to walk back into our lives just because you’ve had a change of heart. You left us, Jake. Your ambition left us. And now you think a few words can fix everything?”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. His hands rose slightly, as if to reach for her, but he stopped himself, letting them fall back to his sides. “No, I know words aren’t enough. But I want to do whatever it takes to prove to you that I’ve changed. That I get it now. I…” He hesitated, the confidence he usually carried faltering under the weight of her glare. “I’ve missed so much. I’ve missed them. I’ve missed you.”

“You see them,” she said sharply. “Every week. I send the emails, the pictures. That’s more than most men like you deserve.”

Jake flinched at the words but nodded. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, then relaxed, as if he were trying to steady himself. “And I’m grateful for that. You have no idea how much those pictures mean to me. But it’s not the same. I want to see them. I want to hold them, to…” He ran a hand through his hair, searching for the right words. His shoulders slumped again, and he looked at her with a pleading expression. “To be their dad again. I want to be the man you married. The man you deserve.”

Her laugh was short, bitter. She shook her head, her arms tightening across her chest as if to shield herself from his words. “The man I married? He wouldn’t have left us in the first place.”

Jake’s shoulders sagged, and he let out a shaky breath. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I don’t deserve forgiveness. But I’m asking for a chance. Just a chance to try. Please, Stephanie. Let me in.”

He hesitated, then added softly, “Did you hear about Hawk? I mean… I know it’s been in the news. I…” He faltered, unable to find the words, but her expression didn’t change.

“I did,” she said curtly, her tone still guarded. Her eyes flickered for a moment, a brief crack in her armor, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “I’m sorry for him. For his family.”

Jake nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. His hands fidgeted again, and he shoved them into his pockets to keep them still. “Yeah. His wife and the baby… It’s just… It hit me harder than I thought it would. Makes you think about what really matters, you know? About what you’ve been doing wrong.”

Stephanie’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she didn’t respond. He tried to fill the silence. “How are they? The kids, I mean. They’re okay, right? I mean, they look happy in the pictures, but…” He trailed off, his voice cracking slightly.

“They’re fine,” she said stiffly. “They’re resilient. Strong. They have to be.”

Jake winced at the unspoken implication but nodded. “I’m glad. I… I hope I can make them proud someday. Make you proud.”

For a moment, there was silence. The only sound was the wind rustling through the trees, and the faint hum of cicadas in the distance. Stephanie’s expression didn’t waver, her arms still crossed, her stance unbroken. She looked as beautiful as ever, but the beauty he has been familiar with for more than 20 years now felt untouchable, like a distant star—something he could admire but never reach.

- - - - --- - - 

The warm glow of the late afternoon sun filtered through the windows of their cozy family home, casting a golden hue over the living room. Toys were scattered across the floor, remnants of the children’s playtime, and the faint sound of their laughter echoed from the backyard. Jake stepped inside, his boots clicking softly against the wooden floor. He paused for a moment, taking in the familiar warmth of the space—a haven they’d built together. A genuine smile crossed his face as he thought about sharing the good news.

“Stephanie?” he called, his voice betraying his excitement.

Stephanie appeared from the kitchen, a dishrag in hand, her blonde hair styled in a simple, elegant updo. Her blue eyes lit up at the sight of him, and her smile widened as she walked closer, clearly eager to hear what had brought him home early.

“What is it?” she asked, concern lacing her tone. “Is everything okay?”

Jake stepped forward confidently, his excitement bubbling over. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Better than fine, actually.” He tried to smile, but it came out forced. “I… I got promoted.”

Her brow furrowed, and she stepped closer. “Promoted? That’s good, right?”

“It is,” he said quickly. “It’s a big deal, Stephanie. They’re moving me to San Diego. I’ll be working with some of the best pilots in the world. It’s… it’s an incredible opportunity.”

Her smile faltered, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “San Diego? So, we’re moving again?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s a great place. The kids will love it. And it’s not forever,” he added quickly, sensing the storm brewing. “Five years, tops. After that, I can transition to teaching. You know, like we talked about.”

Her arms tightened across her chest, and her eyes narrowed. “Five years?” she repeated, her voice rising. “Jake, we agreed. You promised me. When you finished your training, Top Gun and a couple of years of missions you were supposed to start teaching. You said you wouldn’t keep flying missions forever. That you wouldn’t keep risking your life.”

“I know what I said,” he replied, his tone soft but firm. “And I meant it. But, Stephanie, this is important. This is my career. I can’t just walk away from it now. Not when I’ve worked so hard to get here.”

“Your career?” she snapped, her voice trembling with anger. “What about your family, Jake? What about me? The kids? We’ve followed you all over the country for years, waiting for the day you’d keep your promise. And now you’re telling me it’s just… what? Five more years? And you say it like it’s nothing!”

“Stephanie, this is such an amazing opportunity for us,” he said eagerly, stepping closer to her. “It’s not just about me. This promotion… it means a better future for all of us. The pay, the benefits—it’ll set us up for life. And there’s no war on the horizon. I’ll be flying routine missions, nothing dangerous. It’ll be fine.”

“Fine?” she repeated, her voice breaking. “You think it’s fine for me to sit here, wondering every day if the next knock on the door is someone telling me you’re not coming home? To raise our kids alone while you’re halfway across the planet?”

“Please,” he said, his tone pleading now. He reached for her, but she pulled away. “I’m doing this for us. For our family. I’m trying to build something better.”

“Better?” she said, tears streaming down her face. “So what we have already is not good, right? How is any of this better, Jake? You’re breaking your promise. You’re choosing your career over us.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “I’m trying to do what’s right for all of us. Can’t you see that?”

“No, Jake,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t. Because all I see is a man who’s willing to risk everything—his life, his family—for his own ambition.”

His frustration mounted, but he forced himself to stay calm. “I’m doing this for us,” he said again, quieter this time, the desperation creeping into his voice. “Stephanie, I love you. I love the kids. Everything I’m doing is to give you the life you deserve.”

“What do I deserve?” she snapped, her tone icy. “I deserve a husband who keeps his promises. I deserve not to go to bed every night wondering if the father of my children is still alive. You don’t get it, Jake. You never have.”

“Don’t say that,” he said sharply, his jaw tightening. “You know that’s not true. I’m doing my best here.”

“Your best?” she countered. “Your best for the Navy. Your best is putting your career above your family again and again. Your best is deciding what’s best for us without even talking to me about it first.”

“Stephanie, this promotion is everything I’ve worked for. It’s everything we’ve worked for. Can’t you just trust me on this?”

“Trust you?” she asked, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Jake, you’re asking me to trust you after you’ve already broken the biggest promise you ever made to me. How can I trust you when you don’t even see what you’re doing to us?”

“I see it,” he said, his voice cracking. “Don’t think for a second that this is easy for me. I’m trying to make this work. For us. For the kids.”

But she was already shaking her head, her resolve hardening. “No, Jake. Not this time. I’m done. The kids and I… we’re going back to Texas. To my family. You can go to San Diego, chase your dreams, do whatever you want. But we won’t be there waiting for you.”

“Stephanie, please,” he begged, his voice raw with emotion. “Don’t do this. Don’t take them away from me.”

“You took yourself away from us, Jake,” she said quietly. “When you chose this life over the one we built together.”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. She turned and walked away, leaving him standing in the living room, the warmth of their home now feeling unbearably cold.

- - - - 

Jake’s knuckles rested lightly against the wooden doorframe, the silence of the moment punctuated by the distant hum of cicadas. Stephanie stood before him, her posture resolute and defensive, arms crossed tightly across her chest. The air between them was thick, the unspoken words from a long separation hanging heavy like storm clouds refusing to burst.

“Stephanie, please,” Jake began, his voice softer now, almost pleading. His green eyes searched her face for any sign of the woman who had once believed in him unconditionally. “I know I’ve made mistakes. Big ones. But I’ve had a lot of time to think. To see what really matters. I… I’ve changed. I’m trying to make things right.”

She didn’t move, her blue eyes unwavering as they bore into his. Her silence was deafening, her lips pressed into a tight line that spoke volumes of her inner turmoil.

He shifted on his feet, desperate to fill the void. “About Hawk...” he said cautiously, though the weight of the subject wasn’t new between them. Her eyes flickered for a fraction of a second, but she remained silent. "When we talked about him before, I couldn’t stop thinking about his little boy. It’s just… it hit me, Stephanie. Losing someone like that. Realizing how fragile it all is. How much I’ve taken for granted."

Stephanie’s gaze hardened. “What’s your point, Jake?”

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “It’s just… it hit me, Stephanie. I don’t want to waste any more time.”

“You’ve wasted enough already,” she said bluntly, her voice cold and unyielding.

His chest tightened, but he pressed on. “How are the kids coping with the situation?” he asked, his tone softening further. “Jimmy, Mary… are they doing okay?”

Her expression shifted slightly, a flicker of pain breaking through her icy demeanor. “They’re learning to live a new life here, with little cousins, uncles, aunts and grandparents…” Some seconds of silence and a sigh, before ending her answer. “But they miss their dad.”

The words hit him squarely in the chest, and he exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I miss them too,” he said quietly. “I miss all of you.”

“Don’t,” she said sharply, holding up a hand to stop him. “Don’t stand there and act like it’s that simple. You made your choice, Jake. You chose this life, and we… we’ve learned to live without you.”

Her words stung, but he didn’t retreat. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice trembling with emotion. “Stephanie, I swear to you, I understand now. I was blinded by my ambition, by what I thought I had to be. But losing Hawk… seeing what it’s done to his family… it’s changed me. I’m not that same man anymore.”

She stared at him for a long moment, her features unreadable. Then, from somewhere upstairs, a small voice broke the tension. “Mommy! Mommy! Can you read me a story?”

Jake’s breath hitched, his heart lurching at the sound. Mary’s voice, soft and sweet, carried down the staircase like a beacon calling him home.

“Mary,” he murmured, his voice cracking. His eyes widened, and he took an involuntary step forward, his hand reaching out slightly before he caught himself. He turned back to Stephanie, his eyes glistening. “Can I see her? Please. Just for a minute. I… I could read her that story.”

Stephanie’s hand gripped the edge of the door tighter, and she shifted slightly, blocking his view inside. “No,” she said firmly. “You’re not coming in, Jake.”

“Stephanie, please,” he said again, his voice breaking as a single tear slipped down his cheek. He wiped it away quickly, but not before she noticed. She froze, her eyes widening in surprise. She had never seen him cry before.

But then her expression hardened once more, and her voice rose, trembling with pent-up anger and pain. “I always did what you wanted. ALWAYS! Since high school. Everything revolved around you. We saw each other when you wanted it, we kissed when you wanted it, we first had sex when you wanted it, we married when you wanted it, we had kids when you wanted it. Me and the kids followed you wherever you wanted, and I always bowed my head to you because I loved you more than I lvoed myself and believed in the fact that you cared for us and did everything with our future and wellbeing in mind. I only asked you for one thing, just one: not to go to war. I know the world is full of military wives that do it for their whole lives, but I really didn't want to spend most of my life home alone, with you on the other side of the planet, waiting and praying for you to come back all in one piece. I really don’t want to do that! Now you made that decision and it’s fine, of course you can do whatever you want with your life, but it’s time I finally get in control of my life and the life of my children. You can go wherever you like, but we aren’t be waiting for you anymore.”

Her words left him stunned, the raw intensity of her emotions slicing through him like a knife. He staggered back a step, his gaze dropping to her hands. That’s when he saw it—her wedding band, still glinting softly in the fading light. A stark contrast to his own bare finger. He had stopped wearing his ring when he moved alone to San Diego, wanting to keep his private life private, his sorrows hidden, and to avoid the questions that a wedding ring would have raised. He had thought removing it would make things easier—less painful. He wanted to forget, or at least keep his sorrow boxed in a hidden part of his brain, like the ring was in a box inside the drawer of his bedside table. The weight of its absence was something he had tried to ignore, though it lingered like an ache. After she had left him, he refused to talk about the situation with anybody, even his close family, brushing off concerned questions with forced smiles and vague reassurances. And since then, he had also never tried to get in touch with her, except through the weekly emails that were clinical in tone, devoid of any mention of Jake and Stephanie or their relationship—focused only on updates about the kids he longed to hold but felt increasingly distant from.

“You’re still wearing your wedding band,” he said softly, almost to himself.

Her blue eyes flashed with something indiscernible, a quiet strength as she met his gaze. “I’m still your wife.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Jake’s mind raced, memories of their life together flooding back in a torrent of emotions. But before he could speak, Stephanie’s expression softened slightly, though her resolve remained intact.

“Jake,” she said quietly, her voice steady but firm. “Go. For the good of the children. Please.”

He hesitated, his heart aching with every fiber of his being. But he saw the unwavering determination in her eyes, the protective fierceness of a mother who had drawn her line in the sand. Finally, he stepped back, his boots heavy against the wooden porch.

As he turned and walked away, the faint sound of Mary’s voice drifted through the open window once more, mingling with the cicadas and the ache in his chest.

[lyvhie]

— perv!dreamies headcanons

nct dream x fem!reader (18+ mdni) a/n: guys is that a hc or a scenario helppp. anywaysss, that's for all of you cuties who filled my asks with perv!dreamies requests after i reblogged a haechan's post about that BUT I'M JUST A READER I'M NOT GOOD AT WRITING THIS THING SO SO SO SO PLEASE BE KIND THAT ONE WAS HAAARDDD!!! and sorry for the recent inactivity, i'm kinda having a life crisis again haha... 😓 cw: perv behavior ofc, voyeurism, masturbation, coercion (chenle), kinda somnophilia i guess (renjun), panty stealing (& lmk if i forgot some!)

for many reasons, you were CHENLE's favorite maid. you were an exemplary employee. not only were you punctual, attentive, and skilled in your work, but you also showed a level of obedience that was unmatched by the other maids.

he took notice of it almost immediately. whatever he said or asked, you would always respond like a perfectly trained dog. no matter how trivial or senseless the task, you would always comply without question. you never showed any signs of frustration or hesitation, even when he was intentionally demanding or unreasonable. it was almost uncanny how you would immediately drop whatever you were doing in order to fulfill his every command, no matter how demeaning or time-consuming.

chenle soon discovered the reason behind your obedience. it was a simple explanation – you desperately needed that job. your family's mounting debts hung over your head, leaving you with no choice but to cling fiercely to your only source of money. then, he decided to push your limits just for his own entertainment. he would order you to stand in the corner facing the wall for an hour without moving, rearrange his library alphabetically, dust the ceiling, even though there's no visible dirt or dust.

indeed, you never resisted or questioned any of his demands; you were the epitome of obedience. he ceased his mean streak and shifted his focus to a far more interesting activity: your uniform. he imagined you wearing a much sexier gown, the skirt barely reaching mid-thigh, complemented by a deep neckline that would reveal more of your cleavage.

and chenle was completely right. he loved the sight of you climbing steps with a duster in hand, cleaning a spot that was conveniently out of reach. with your new, skimpier attire, it allowed him a perfect view of your panties. every time you bent over, he couldn't resist sneaking a glimpse of your chest or your ass.

however, that entertainment eventually lost its luster; he craved more than just watching you. it was then that he gently pressed your back against the wall and ground his body against yours, the bulge on his pants rubbing your thighs, peppering kisses along your neck.

you weren't particularly welcoming, but he presented you with a choice: you could be a good girl and let him have his fun, and in return, he would even give you a raise; or he could fire you without hesitation.

needless to say what you chose.

your close friend, JAEMIN, who happened to be a talented photographer, had always held you in high regard. since the beginning, he had "admired and respected your unique presence", as he said, seeing you as his primary source of inspiration and even his muse. whenever he approached you with the request to be his model for his photography sessions, he didn't have to work hard to convince you, knowing well that your nature as a people pleaser made it near impossible for you to say no.

initially, the photography sessions appeared normal. you felt a bit out of place, uncertain about what to do with your body and how to pose naturally. you were somewhat stiff, unsure of how to act. jaemin, however, noticed your discomfort and stepped in to help. he reassured you to relax and simply be yourself, advising you not to overthink. from time to time, he gently guided you into various poses, giving constructive feedback to help you loosen up. and it worked, you found yourself getting more relaxed and even feeling proud of yourself as he showered you with compliments.

once jaemin noticed you were becoming more at ease in front of the camera, a mischievous twinkle appeared in his eyes. over time, the clothing options for your photoshoots grew increasingly provocative and sensual.

low-cut dresses and revealing shirts highlighted your cleavage, while miniskirts and tiny shorts barely concealed your underwear. the transition from fully clothed to almost baring it all happened so gradually and naturally that you scarcely noticed. the entire process was efficient and seamless, and by the time you realized it, you were left in your lingerie — that he picked personally —, not having fully grasped the incremental removal of your clothes.

jaemin couldn't believe his luck during each shoot. the images he captured of you had inadvertently become fodder for his… private pleasure. the provocative poses he carefully orchestrated provided him with a treasure trove of material to fuel his fantasies. whether it was admiring your form or imagining scenarios involving you, the photos served his purpose well.

he found himself losing count of the numerous times he'd jerked off to images of you, his restraint wearing thin. the proximity and yet the distance from you that he endured at each shoot became increasingly unbearable. the need to feel your touch, to physically be with you, had reached a breaking point. his thoughts filled with the sweet sounds he longed to draw from your lips, and he realized the urgent necessity to move beyond mere pictures and experience the real thing.

then, the shoots took a drastic turn once the sessions started to delve into a more… intimate territory. now, you posed fully exposed, completely naked, bared before the camera like a blank canvas. you couldn't quite understand how he had managed to persuade you to willingly embrace nudity, considering it was something you'd never thought you could do in your life. however, his prowess with words coupled with your own tendency to give in to them had ultimately led you down this path.

as always, jaemin relished these moments of freedom to touch you, his deft hands roaming over your body with the pretext of adjusting your poses. you, in your shyness, acquiesced to his actions without complaint, allowing him to do as he pleased under the guise of artistic direction.

he would tenderly stroke your thighs, gently spreading them apart, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his eyes feasted on the sight before him, his fingertips brushing against your cunt ever so slightly, eliciting a surprised gasp from your mouth. he would say some bullshit about creating the right atmosphere, a means to help you fully immerse yourself in the art or whatever, while his actions spoke louder than his words.

you didn't even know exactly what to do or think when, suddenly, his warm tongue dove into your pussy. you instinctively attempted to close your legs, only to be held in place by jaemin's sturdy arms, which firmly kept you motionless. he eagerly and desperately lavied your sensitive flesh with his mouth, making you feel like his favorite meal that he couldn't get enough of, as if he had spent days starving and you were the first thing he could lay his hands on.

you were unaware of it, but jaemin had started recording the session since the very beginning. he seemed less interested in still photos, as he carefully recorded every moment — the soft gasps and subtle moans that escaped your lips, the expression of pleasure and wonder that crossed your face. he knew he would have plenty more material to enjoy in the days to come, once this session was done and, if he was even more lucky, you would become his favorite particular porn star.

you know, JISUNG is not intentionally like that, it's just that he becomes uncontrollable when he's around you. you're his first girlfriend, and often, he wonders how he got so lucky to land a hottie like you, because you're the girl he's always dreamed of having.

being his first relationship, he's still learning how to navigate things and isn't quite sure how to express his desires. since it's still early in the relationship, he hesitates to speak up about his wants and doesn't think the time is right yet. as a result, his mind often drifts to imagining... certain scenarios, even during the most innocent of interactions with you.

are you eating ice cream? he can't help but imagine how cute you would look with your soft lips wrapped around his cock as he fucks your throat and watches your eyes fill up with tears. tying your hair to do household chores? you would look so good with his fingers tangled in your locks as he pounded you from behind against the kitchen counter, pressing your face on the cool surface as he listen to your moans. do you need a shoulder massage? he can't help but notice how his large hand can easily encircle your neck, thinking about how this is such a perfect spot to hold onto when he's inside you and how good it will feel.

sigh… at the end of the day, the only thing he ends up fucking is his own fist. and that's exactly what he was doing now, but this time it was different, because you were right there beside him, peacefully sleeping in his bed, making it the first time you stayed over. he was happy because he could finally cuddle and hold you throughout the whole night.

but there was also a problem because he could finally cuddle and hold you throughout the whole night. as soon he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer, his hormones were already stirring. the moment you snuggled against him, he could feel his boxers getting too tight for comfort, your ass pressing against his growing bulge in a way that was just too good.

he was both grateful and a bit frustrated that you were already asleep. he wondered what would happen if you were to notice his struggles, but he was the only one who could find relief at the moment. that's what led him to the situation he was in now, secretly-not-so-secretly touching himself right next to you while admiring your tiny, thin pajamas that served as such a nice visual material for him.

the clothes in question was a pair of thin, soft fabric shorts combined with a spaghetti strap top. the shorts were short and snug, leaving very little to the imagination. the thin material seemed almost translucent in certain lights, barely concealing what was underneath. the spaghetti strap top revealed just the right amount of shoulder and cleavage, adding to the overall alluring effect.

he wanted to touch you so bad, to taste you, to feel you around him. he would give anything to fill you up with his cum, stuff you until it was leaking out of your tight pussy, just for him to push it inside you again and make you take everything he has to give you. he arched back, head thrown back in ecstasy, his hips bucking upward as he climaxed and, before he could think properly, he was already shooting ropes of cum all over your sleeping face.

he knew he just did something weird and wrong, and he felt guilty, but… you looked incredibly hot and cute all at once like that. he almost became hard again, but then you started to stir, and he immediately froze. if you woke up right now, how on earth would he explain what he had just done?

he was on the verge of panicking when he noticed you had stopped stirring, still sleeping peacefully. he let out a sigh of relief, but then he quickly remembered a new problem: how exactly was he supposed to clean you up now?

HAECHAN was glad and thankful that god made you dumb, otherwise he would never get the chance to spend so much time with you and be alone in your room so many times, studying together for your exams.

when you approached him for assistance in raising your grades, haechan thought he was dreaming. he pinched himself to make sure it was real, and without thinking twice he accepted your request.

haechan never thought he'd ever be in a girl's house, let alone your room. it was such a pleasant surprise to be there, surrounded by you. every time he was in your room, it almost felt like a paradise to him.

he loved being near you, so close that your scent would fill his nostrils. your shampoo, your perfume, and the strawberry flavored lip gloss on your lips… it was too much for him to bear. he couldn’t keep his gaze away from your cleavage, imagining what it would feel like to bury his face in your chest. or to be between your thighs, he didn't even need to eat you out (though it would be awesome too), just sniffing your sex scent would be enough... damn, he was hard again.

haechan almost missed your words, as you mentioned it was getting late and you had to go home, since you decided to study at haechan's place that day. despite his disappointment that you had to leave so soon, he was also glad, as now he could finally relieve the tightness in his pants.

he quickly opened his closet and grabbed a pair of your panties, the most recent one he had obtained. ever since the study sessions had begun, he made a habit of taking a pair of your panties from either your drawer or laundry basket whenever you left him alone in your room.

haechan wasted no time in pulling down his pants and releasing his throbbing cock, leaking with pre-cum. he rubbed the fluid all over his length as he brought the underwear to his face, pressing it against his nose and breathing deeply, inhaling your delicious scent. a soft moan escaping his lips as his hand began moving in a steady pace, while he slowly and intently breathed in your essence.

his hand moved with an ever-increasing speed, his mind filled with thoughts about you. he was so lost in the moment that he didn't even notice when you suddenly appeared in the doorway of his room, stunned by the view. you didn't mean to catch him like that, you had returned to pick up your keys, which you had left in the living room. however, you heard haechan calling (moaning) out to you from his room and...

he was caught completely off guard when you called his name, and his eyes widened in shock when he realized you were there. as much as he was startled and embarrassed, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. instead, his motions became even more urgent, the expression of slight disgust on your face was an unexpected turn-on to him. being watched like this made him peak faster than usual, bringing your panties to his cock, finishing on it as he always do, coating the cloth with his cum.

well, he can't even tell you that this isn't what it looks like.

as your best friend, RENJUN, always had your best interests at heart. you grew up with very strict parents who controlled your life and limited your experiences, leaving you as a naive adult. you only achieved your freedom when you moved out and shared an apartment with your dear friend, who was the first person to encourage you to leave and offered you unconditional support. he promised to stay by your side no matter what, and the two of you intended to stick together until you could afford separate places of your own.

he wasn't lying about being a safety net for you, just as he always had. he did want to protect you from your crazy parents, but that wasn't the only reason he wanted you to move in with him. now it was just you and him. all alone. the situation seemed like a dream come true for him, and he found himself clinging to you more than ever, enjoying the increased amount of time you spent together.

renjun had always been a touchy person, particularly with you. however, since you started to live together, it seems his touches have increased tenfold, taking advantage of your innocent view.

he seemed way more comfortable touching different parts of your body, always finding some excuse that you believed, as you trusted him and couldn't see any ill intent in his behavior. his hands would caress your belly, occasionally making their way to your ass, and if he felt bold, he even groped your breasts. despite his increasingly intimate touches, you dismissed his behavior as friendly affection. it wasn't that you didn't recognize the sexual undertones in his actions, but rather that you chose not to see them that way with him. you trusted him implicitly, blinding yourself to the true nature of his behavior.

he also developed a habit of sneaking peeks at you showering or changing, making it a regular occurrence. he even went as far as entering your room while you were asleep, getting off beside you and cleaning himself with one of your panties, then he would place the cloth back on your drawer, all so he could see you wearing them when he peeked under your dress the next day, smiling proudly at the thought that you didn’t even know his cum was all over it.

it's not like he really needs to fuck you, although he would love to, but just being close to you, holding you, touching you was enough. for example, when you're cuddling while watching a movie and you fall asleep, he always uses that opportunity to slide his dick between your thighs and fuck them, carefully in not moaning too loudly to not bother your sleep. it's always a nice experience and more than he could ever ask for, but he was sure that soon you would let him bury himself deep inside your pussy, he would make it happen no matter what

MARK's gaze was fixated on the window, shifting between your house and the nearby wall clock. it was a familiar routine now — every night at 8 pm, he waited expectantly, counting down the minutes until the moment you would cross the door to your room.

mark couldn't tell if you were truly unaware of his presence or if you were intentionally putting on a show, but he had to admit that he loved it. since you moved in, this had become an habit that he couldn't break not even if he wanted to. as soon as you turned on the lights, mark's pupils widened with excitement. "finally," he thought, scooting closer to the window and settling into his cushion, his eyes locked onto your every move.

you began the familiar routine by tossing your purse onto your bed, then you took a moment to stretch and untie your hair. but this was just foreplay to the main event — mark's favorite part had begun. it was the moment when the true magic happened. he sat back, ready to take in the spectacle that was unfolding before his eyes.

as your hands lifted the hem of your shirt, a tantalizing reveal of your skin unfurled. mark could already feel his cock stirring inside his pants, his panting breaths becoming more pronounced. he observed the weariness on your face and noticed your deliberate pace. perhaps it was fatigue that slowed your movements, but he didn't mind. it gave him time to appreciate you even more.

he leaned in closer, his eyes devouring every inch of your body as you slowly removed your clothes. each moment was a delicious tease, building up the sensation within him. as soon as his eyes fell upon you in your lingerie, his pupils widened in surprise and desire. the garment was a new addition to your collection — and it was in his favorite color. he couldn't help but wonder if you had purchased it with him specifically in mind. the sight of you in that delicate lace and fabric heightened his arousal, making him ache with want.

his movements were automatic when he pulled down his pants and underwear just enough to free his aching cock, wrapping his hand around it. mark stroke his dick, his gaze remained fixated on you, refusing to move even an inch as he watched you undo the clasp of your bra. his lower lip caught between his teeth when he saw your perfect boobs jiggling softly as you moved around.

his eyes taking in the sight of your upper body, traveling down as you move your hands to reach the waistband of your panties, bending over to pull them down, giving him the chance to look at your ass and how your pretty pussy was being crushed between your thighs. he let out a low hiss through clenched teeth, his hand finding a steady rhythm as his breaths quickened, a soft moan of pleasure escaped his lips. his gaze fixed on you, his brow furrowing in desire. you were so beautiful, so gorgeous, so hot, so, so…. so everything!

it wasn't a want anymore, it was need. he needed you. he needed you so bad. he didn't even know your name, but he knew you were the one who could fulfill his desires.

he let out a disheartened whimper as you reached for your robe, the fabric concealing your lovely form and plunging the room into darkness, robbing him of the sight he yearned to behold. that was his least favorite part. he hated resorting to using his imagination, but in the absence of the real thing, he had no choice.

closing his eyes, he continued his movements, imagining how it would feel to kiss your lips, to make out with you until you gasped for breath. he thought about trailing his mouth down your body, giving your beautiful breasts the attention they so rightly deserve. he would love to have you squirming under him. he would get on his knees, wrap those gorgeous legs of yours around him and feast on you until you were shaking and screming out for more. he just knew you taste good.

he imagined how your voice would sound like when he slide deep inside you, feeling your heat envelop him like a glove. he started to buck his hips up, thrusting into his hand harder, his moans filling his room. he imagined how would it feel to have you clenching around him, how you would cry so prettily when he played with your sensitive bud until you cream his whole lenght. mark felt the familiar tightening of his balls, his entire body tensing until he finally came, smearing the white fluid all over his hand, his mouth open in a silent gasp. panting, he fell back onto the bed, his eyes still closed as he thought about how he couldn't wait for the next night.

after suffering an injury during practice, JENO found himself confined to a hospital bed for a few days of observation. at first, the prospect of spending time in a hospital seemed like the epitome of boredom and jeno was convinced it was the worst thing that could happen to him at the moment. however, that all changed when he met you, his sexy nurse.

suddenly, the hospital stay didn't seem so bad after all.

jeno found himself unable to keep his eyes off you, who frequently attended to him. he noticed the the gentle sway of you hips as you walked, and his eyes couldn't help but roam up and down your form when you bent over to adjust his pillows. whenever you spoke, his mind wandered to thoughts of how your lips would feel against his own.

you were consistently and diligently attentive to his needs, always arriving promptly whenever he rang for assistance. sometimes, he even displayed childish behavior when other nurses came to attend to him, insisting that only you were capable of addressing his concerns.

it didn't escape his notice that you were a relatively new nurse, experiencing your first time on the job. this realization sparked a sly plan in his mind, as he knew you might find it challenging to turn down his requests. he was fully aware of your inexperience, making him eager to push his limits and see how far he could go while you navigated your new role. he was determined to take advantage of the power dynamic, using your hesitation to explore the boundaries of what he could ask for and get away with.

for example, he would often ask for full body massages from you, and the sensation of your delicate hands roaming all over his body would drive him absolutely wild. with unabashed confidence, he'd make sure to vocalize just how much he loved the feel of your touch, complimenting you on your skillful hands and openly expressing his desire to return the favor.

one time, he pretended that his condition was more severe than it truly was, just so that he could have you attend to him during bath time. he, once again, relished the feeling of your hands gently cleaning him from head to toe, watching your shy expression while you attempted to maintain casual conversation, your focus interrupted by the sounds of pleasure that escaped his lips uncontrollably.

one time, after pretending his condition was more severe than it truly was, he got the chance to feel the heavenly sensation of having you run your hands over his body while you washed him. it was a brief but unforgettable experience as he savored every moment of your touch. he was so hard that it was painful. he loved how your shy expression couldn't quite hide your feelings while you tried to keep a casual conversation going, yout words faltering every time a sound of pleasure escaped his lips.

he would never forget the way you looked at him with surprise, shyness, and a hint of embarrassment when he came on your hand with just a few of your innocent touches. your eyes widened slightly and a shy, awkward, subtle smile formed on your lips as you look away briefly, trying to hide your reaction.

it was almost humorous how swiftly you completed the task of bathing him after that incident, as if you were eager to finish the job and move on quickly. in the days that followed, you seemed to make a conscious effort to minimize the time you spent in his room, probably to avoid any awkward or potentially embarrassing encounters.

he couldn't help but notice your attempts to distance yourself after the incident, but he had a plan in mind to fix this: he decided that you simply needed to get used to his requests, just as you had gotten used to fulfilling the other needs he'd asked for. what's more, he was determined to have some form of sexual contact with you before he left the hospital, and he was set on making it happen.

it was indeed a perfect opportunity. he called for you late in the night, knowing you were on the night shift and there would be no disruptions. he wasted no time in making his request clear: he needed you to get him off. he almost couldn't contain his amusement at the look of wide-eyed surprise on your face, quickly dismissing your denials with a simple explanation. he told you how he didn't have the strength to do it himself, how his weakened condition made it difficult for him to take care of himself in that way, how ill he felt, and how he needed release as a man, and that it was your duty as his nurse to help him.

his heart nearly skipped a beat and he felt something like fireworks going off inside his chest when he saw you bite your lower lip and give a small nod of agreement. once again, the hospital stay didn't seem so bad after all.

[satellite-evans]

Juntos.

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x reader

Summary: Franco struggles with disappointment after losing his racing seat, but your support helps him feel less alone in facing the tough situation.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: angst, little fluff

main masterlist

A/N:

Hi everyone, this is my first Franco fic so I am very excited!!! I am very new to Formula 1 so I will try my best to make the stories as realistic as possible. I dramatized this fic a little bc I could not help myself lol but I love Carlos sm and wish him nothing but luck in Williams. Also, I would not mind if you guys help me understand Formula 1 more xxx

hope you guys will like it :)

Also, the Spanish words I used are directly from Google Translate, if I made mistakes please feel free to correct me <3

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The dim light of the apartment cast a glow over the cozy space, the kind that usually made the room feel warm and inviting. Tonight, however, it felt different—heavier, subdued, as if the walls themselves understood the weight of the emotions filling the air. The scent of a faintly burning candle lingered in the background, a forgotten remnant of an attempt to lighten the mood earlier in the evening. Outside, the muffled sounds of the city hummed faintly, a stark contrast to the suffocating silence inside.

Franco sat on the edge of the couch, his head bowed, fingers tangled in his dark hair. His shoulders hunched forward, as though bearing the weight of an invisible burden too great to carry. The usually vibrant spark in his eyes, the one that ignited whenever he talked about racing, was gone. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the floor, unseeing, his expression hollow. It was as if the moment he walked through the door, all the fight had drained out of him, leaving behind a man who didn’t know how to put the pieces of himself back together.

You stood by the kitchen counter, your heart breaking at the sight of him. He hadn’t said much since he got home, just a quiet “Estoy en casa” before sinking into the couch. He used easy Spanish words around you since he knew you wanted to learn the language. That's how kind he was. You’d known this day would be hard for him, but seeing him like this was almost unbearable. The news had come down like a guillotine: Carlos Sainz was taking the seat. Franco was out, with no prospects for next year. No contract, no guarantees. Nothing but the crushing void left behind by a dream slipping through his fingers.

It wasn’t fair. You knew how hard he’d worked, how much of himself he’d poured into his career. The endless hours in the gym, the relentless study of data, the sacrifices he made, all for the pursuit of speed, glory, and a chance to prove himself on the biggest stage. And yet, it hadn’t been enough.

He’d tried to hide it at first. When he’d called you after the meeting, his voice had been calm, even detached. But you’d heard the slight tremor, the hesitation that betrayed his carefully constructed mask. And now, here he was, the man you loved, unraveling before your eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over to the couch, a cup of tea in your hands. The steam curled softly in the air, a fragile whisper of warmth against the cold tension that filled the room. You set it down gently on the coffee table before lowering yourself onto the cushion beside him.

“Franco,” you said softly, your voice a lifeline in the quiet. He didn’t look up, but the slight shift in his posture told you he’d heard you. Gently, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand. His skin was warm, but his fingers remained still, unresponsive.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I know how much this meant to you.”

For a moment, there was no response. Then, slowly, he lifted his head. His eyes met yours, red-rimmed and brimming with unshed tears. The sight of him like this—so raw, so vulnerable—made your chest ache.

“I did everything,” he said, his voice cracking. “Everything. And it wasn’t enough. They just… threw me away. Like I don’t matter.”

Tears pricked your own eyes as you reached out to cup his face, your thumbs gently brushing against his stubbled cheeks. “You do matter, Franco. To me, to your family, to the fans who adore you. To everyone who’s ever seen you race and knows how talented you are.”

He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Talent doesn’t mean anything if you don’t have the politics, the money, the… connections. Carlos… he’s amazing, and he deserves it, I know that. But I can’t help feeling like I’ll never be enough, no matter what I do.”

“No soy suficiente,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm. "I'm not enough." His words hung in the air, filled with a quiet intensity.

“Don' say that, you're more than enough,” you echoed, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill. “And I know this feels impossible right now, like the world’s closing in on you, but this isn’t the end of your story. You’re Franco. My Frankie. You’re a fighter, a dreamer, and you’ve never let anything keep you down before. This won’t either.”

His shoulders sagged, and for the first time that evening, he leaned into you, his head resting against your shoulder. The weight of him felt heavier than usual, as though he’d poured all his sorrow and weariness into the simple act of leaning on you. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, cradling him as if you could shield him from the pain of the world.

“No sé qué haría sin vos,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your neck. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

“You’ll never have to find out,” you replied, pressing a kiss to his temple.

His arms came around you then, pulling you closer, as though he was afraid to let go. You felt his tears dampen your shirt, and the sound of his quiet sobs broke your heart all over again. But you didn’t let go. You held him tighter, letting him pour out everything he’d been holding inside.

“You’re my everything, Franco,” you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. “And I’ll always be here. No matter what. Together, we’ll get through this.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes glassy but filled with something deeper now—gratitude, love, and maybe a flicker of hope. Slowly, he leaned in and kissed you, his lips trembling against yours but charged with a fierce intensity. The kiss was deep and searching, a collision of his anguish and gratitude, his need to find solace in the one constant in his life—you. His hands cupped your face, fingers threading gently through your hair as though anchoring himself to you, pouring everything he couldn’t say into the kiss. It wasn’t hurried but deliberate, each movement a testament to the depth of his emotions. You could feel the raw edges of his heartbreak and the unspoken promise of his love, so consuming and desperate it made your chest ache.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing uneven, the faintest quiver still lingering in his lips. The weight of his gaze bore into yours, as though he was silently pleading for reassurance that you’d stay by his side. And in that moment, you both knew you were his safe haven, his reason to keep fighting.

“We’re going to get through this,” you repeated softly, brushing a strand of his hair from his face. “Together.”

A soft murmur broke the silence. “Juntos,” Franco whispered, almost to himself.

You blinked, pulling back slightly to look at him. “Juntos? What’s that? An unreleased Sabrina Carpenter song or something?” you teased lightly, hoping to coax even a hint of a smile from him.

For a moment, he just stared at you, and then, to your relief, a small, genuine giggle escaped his lips. It was the first time you’d heard him laugh all night, and it warmed you to your core.

He shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips now. “No, it’s Spanish. It means ‘together.’”

“Together,” you repeated softly, the word settling in your heart like a comforting balm.

He nodded, his gaze searching yours. “You’ve been saying it all night without realizing it. ‘Together, we’ll figure it out.’ ‘Together, we’ll find a way.’ You keep reminding me I’m not alone. And… you’re right. Juntos. We’ll do this juntos, no matter what.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they were from the overwhelming love and gratitude you felt. You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. “Yes, juntos. Siempre. Always.”

A soft chuckle escaped him again, and he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly. In that moment, the weight of the world didn’t feel as heavy anymore. Together—juntos—you knew you’d face whatever came next.

[thedoctorisgroovy]

Schooled

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

» Word count: 998

» Warnings: use of y/n, S3-5 Spencer, reader has just started at the BAU, mention of bullying, fluff, establishing relationship, awkward Spencer, use of the word sh**ty, mention of gunshot wound, gn reader, they/them pronouns, slightly non canon character behaviours

» A/N: so Im 27 and i've never written a fic before! I had a dream the other night that I was gonna turn into a one shot but realised I needed way more backstory to get to the dream scene so this is gonna be multiple chapters! Reader should be GN, if not I apologise! Also I have no clue about how law enforcement works so all references to the FBI, statistics etc are all made up. Any feedback is welcome but please try to be kind/constructive!

CHAPTER 1:

Your job with the BAU took you all over the country; mountain ranges, the desert, small towns, big cities, and if you were lucky, even the beach, which may sound slightly psychopathic considering you solve homicides and kidnappings for a living. You never thought it would take you back to your old high school however. The FBI had been called in to your home-town to help solve a string of disappearances/kidnappings that seemed to be connected to the school. It started off as one or two kids not showing up for class, but had now escalated into 6 official missing students. Local police were struggling to determine whether the unsub was a teacher or student, and in a population of 35,000, they called in the BAU to put together a more accurate profile of who they were looking for.

After moving away at the ripe age of 18 to get your bachelor’s degree at a university far away, you had no intention of ever returning to your shitty town. School wasn’t too hard, you got good grades and had a few solid friends but still fell victim to the small town bullying and mentality that you’ve spent the last few years getting over in therapy. Attending the academy straight after graduating helped to keep you busy and away too - much to your mother’s protests - but you knew your goal in life. Joining the FBI and then eventually the BAU was your best shot at never returning, and while your one track mind kept you focused, it unfortunately lead to this case.

On the plus side, it also lead you to the best group of friends - who were your family, lets face it - and boyfriend you could ask for. Dr Spencer Reid was the first member of the team that you were introduced to by Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner on your first day. As he’s your age and at the time, a little awkward, Hotch thought you’d be least intimidated joining the team by meeting him first.

Hotch told you that he was a genius and had a tendency to ramble trivia at people, which intrigued you. You’d never met a 26 year old genius before. As he lead you down the ramp and across the bullpen, you noted 2 women; a blonde girl with quirky clothes and a big grin and a brunette with big eyes and a bright red tank top. You felt their eyes follow you and SSA Hotchner across the room as he lead you to wonder boy’s desk. He had his head buried in a file; legs bunched together on his seat,  a pen tapping against his lips absentmindedly, his face obscured slightly by the hair falling across his cheeks and forehead.  You reached his desk and Hotch cleared his throat slightly. When he didn’t react, Hotch finally spoke up.

“Dr Reid, this is Special Agent Y/F/N, Y/L/N.” Hotch said in a firm but polite tone. Spencer flinched when Hotch spoke, his voice snapping him out of whatever work induced rabbit hole his brain was stuck in. In an instant, his legs were now back onto the floor, whipped his head up and pushed his glasses up onto his head. Spencer leaned over his desk and extended his hand, to shake yours. He gave you a big smile which you remember looked genuine and sweet at the time.

“Hi, I’m Dr Reid… Or Spencer, just call me Spencer, Dr sounds prententious. I mostly just say it to sound smart but I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.” As he started rambling, you couldn’t help but stare. Now that his face wasn’t covered by his hair, you noticed how pretty he was. His light, soft brown eyes scanned your face while you accidentally stared into them. There was a kindness there that you felt drawn to and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself at his strong jawline.

“Agent Y/L/N?” Spencer questioned softly, his smile dropping to a face of mild concern. You looked down and realised his hand was still extended waiting for you to shake it. Mortified that you’d been staring at this poor man’s face, you blushed and quickly stuck your hand out to reciprocate the greeting.

“Nice to meet you!” You tried to muster in your cheeriest polite voice, hiding your embarrassment as best you could. His smile grew again, cheeks turning ever so slightly salmon colored.

“Reid, I’m leaving Agent Y/L/N in your care. Can you please introduce them to the rest of the team before the debrief? JJ’s waiting for us in the briefing room but I’ve told her to wait 5 minutes for introductions.” With that, Hotch left and you stood semi awkwardly at Reid’s desk unsure whether to initiate conversation or wait for him to take the lead. Thankfully he did.

“As the idiom says ‘there’s no time like the present’” Spencer quipped, standing up and placing his case file onto the desk. He gestured to follow him as he lead you to the two women who you could tell were gossiping quite frankly.

Since then, you’d been inseparable. The whole team noticed how fond you were of each other; 6 months of choosing to pair up on missions, sleeping next to each other on the jet, filing paperwork until the early hours alone in the office. Eventually, Garcia - your loveable bubbly tech analyst best friend - forced you to go on an official date - much to your fake protestations - and that night, you decided to make it official. The “I love you’s” came after a particularly dangerous case where you got shot in the field. The good doctor refused to leave your side from the minute you were injured until you got into the hospital bed. After surgery to remove the bullet, he laid on your recovery bed with you and whispered that he loved you and you whispered back before you both drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 2

taglist: @gghostwriter @inlovewithelliewilliams @the-quackson-brothers @lonelymuffin @lobstertalk @primrosesposts

[rafesbabyg1rl]

Hiii pretties! Welcome to my blog!! Please keep things positive and stay slutty my friends!!!

~If you have any requests, please feel free to leave it in my inbox!!!~

Seriously, I love getting requests and just hearing all your thoughts and theories! Please don't be nervous to interact with me! This is a safe space, I promise.

Masterlist:

The Watcher: Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader (Part One, Part Two, Part Three...) Private Session: Stripper!Reader x obsessive!Rafe (Part One, Part Two , Part Three) Bsf!Rafe gets jealous: Innocent!Reader x Possessive!Rafe

you can read the rest if you wanna know more about me !!

Hello!! I'm Kat, or Kay, whatever you wanna call me. I'm literally just a girl. I am a freakkkk. I do be a bit of a stoner y'all, and I usually am high when I write, so if I make a mistake, I'm blaming that. I'm from the United States (unfortunately) and I only speak English. This is a safe place; I am always here if anyone wants to talk. I do not discriminate; I do not spread hate. I do not and will not tolerate hate or unkind behavior towards me or others here on my blog. Like seriously guys I have bad anxiety, so please be nice and don't make it harder for me.

This is pretty much solely for Outer Banks, Rafe Cameron to be more specific. But, feel free to talk to me about other things!

Other things I'm interested in/passionate about: Taylor Swift, 21 Savage, veterinary medicine, Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, The Walking Dead, 13 Reasons Why, Supernatural, Jurassic Park/World, Harry Potter, The Maze Runner, The Hunger Games, comedy movies (Seth Rogen & James Franco), Dexter, etc. I love cold weather, books, and cats. Music is life and I listen to a little bit of everything so feel free to send songs.

I AM a student, so just keep in mind that I may be inactive because I’m in CLASS or doing work; because I will prioritize that over tumblr (well, i try). Other times I’m inactive because I am sleeping, or because I’m busy with LIFE. I am not tied to my tumblr and blog. I’ve had only positive experiences here so far, but I know that fanfic writers are often mistreated by readers, but guys we are all just people.

If you want me to hurry up and publish new work, don't tell me that, just interact with my blog and compliment my writing and that will motivate me more than anything else ever could. Also ASK AND REQUEST PLEASEEE!! I really enjoy and appreciate new ideas and feedback from other people's brains. I also appreciate constructive criticism. Don't be mean about it, but if you dislike or disagree with something, tell me politely. I like hearing feedback and am always working on improving my writing.

Seriously y'all, please please PLEASE do NOT be hateful. Do that on your own time, not here. I will not tolerate unnecessary attitude and hate. I believe in forgiveness, and I know that mistakes and misunderstandings happen. I will treat anyone and everyone with kindness and respect unless I have reason not to (really hoping I don't).

Who do I write for? I only write for Rafe Cameron. However, I'm not opposed to writing a little or sharing thoughts about other Outer Banks Characters!

What do I write? I will write literally almost anything. There’s no such thing as too much for me, so request away please. ------ As for darker topics, I will write them. Actually, a large portion of my work will include darker topics/themes/kinks, etc. I will write sensitive subjects too. But just because I live for that shit, doesn't mean everyone else does so I'll do my best to include warnings on all my work for any content that might potentially be triggering for others.

(Small warning: mentions of my mental struggles and self-destructive habits) I've always struggled mentally. I've always felt as though the way my brain works is different from everyone else; like something is wrong with me. But after many many years, I now have a better understanding of myself and how my brain works. Not to dump this on y'all, I swear I have a point, but I have diagnosed depression, anxiety, and ADHD. These things are all a big challenge I face in my day-to-day life and are often the leading cause of why I may take longer to write and publish things. I may take breaks, so don't worry if I'm not active, I will be back at some point. And I'll try my best to update you guys on when I'm gonna be less active or vice versa. Another way my mental health effects my writing is because when I write, a lot of the time my personal experiences or feelings will end up incorporated within my work, since well, it's all coming from my brain. I mostly write for myself to express my thoughts and feelings, having others read and actually enjoy my work is just an added bonus. But personally, I have struggled with self-harm for about one third of my life. I often get ideas for new works revolving around this theme and may publish things about it eventually. Themes such as mental illnesses, self-harm, abuse, insecurities, EDs, suicidal thoughts, unhealthy relationships (obv), toxic household, etc. will have a reoccurring appearance throughout my works. So just be prepared, I guess.

And like I said before, if anyone needs to talk, I am ALWAYS here and I am a very good listener.

Everyone is more than welcome to message me or leave anything in my inbox. Whether it's to chat, request something, ask something, literally whatever is welcome!! (Except hate I don't fw that)

Thank you for visiting my blog, I hope you enjoy! As always, be kind and stay slutty!

[uceyliyahh]

NOVACANE

Summary: After dealing with a traumatic event in Desiree's past life she decided to keep her heart closed off and didn't have any desire to love again until she met him.

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE, PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

word count: 4378

Jey Uso x Desiree

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @luvrsluxe @4milly @xbriexx @trippinsorrows @yyaktayak

Ø1

"Open up to me mama,"

"Let me show you how you're supposed to be loved, fuck what everyone else is talking about,"

"I want you and only you,"

"Don't hold nothing back from me, don't shut me out of what you're feeling because I am not going anywhere,"

DESIREE A few years back, I experienced something incredibly traumatic while I was with Jayden. During that time, all he seemed to care about was selling drugs with his gang friends or working on his rap album. If things didn't go as planned, he would come home and take out his frustrations on me.

I found myself feeling utterly powerless in my situation with him, but I was incredibly grateful to have the opportunity to move in with my best friend, Bianca. Her kindness and generosity in welcoming me into her home made all the difference, especially since I had nowhere else to turn.

I started to adopt a more indifferent and aloof attitude, particularly when men approached me for my number. I would simply ignore them as if they didn't exist. To make ends meet, I chose to work at a tattoo shop while also stripping on the side for some extra cash.

I made the difficult decision to shut myself off from everyone, especially men, to protect my heart from further pain and the possibility of abuse. That all changed one fateful night at the strip club when I met Jey. He completely transformed my outlook on life, but I was determined not to let him in without a fight.

I found myself at the airport, eagerly anticipating the arrival of my luggage so I could finally catch up with Montez. She had been deeply immersed in her wrestling career, and I had grown quite close to her husband—almost like siblings at this point. As soon as I spotted my bag making its way down the conveyor belt, I quickly snatched it up, ensuring it was indeed mine before heading out to reunite with them.

I took my phone from my pocket and sent a quick message to Montez, informing him that I was heading outside.

IMESSAGE 💬 Desi🖕🏽: Montez I'll be outside waiting on you Tez😀: aight then little girl bring yo' slow ass on mane Desi🖕🏽: yk sometimes I just want to punch the hell out of you? Tez😀: whatever I am taller than you honey so relax with all of that Desi🖕🏽: you're so annoying honestly you better be here Tez😀: aight

I wheeled my suitcase toward the airport exit, eager to step outside and await Montez's arrival. Finding a nearby bench, I settled down with my luggage, patiently anticipating his appearance.

I grew up in Texas, where I had the chance to explore the beautiful countryside during my childhood. As a teenager, I moved to North Carolina, and now I find myself living in Tennessee with my best friend.

While browsing my social media, I noticed that Jayden has sent me a follow request on Instagram. This is the same person who frequently creates new accounts or uses different phone numbers just to reach out to me, all in an attempt to harass me.

He faces numerous charges, particularly concerning domestic violence, yet his mother foolishly provided bail money to secure his release. I used to hold a great deal of respect for both his parents, but that changed after the incident when he assaulted me.

As I mindlessly scrolled through my social media, oblivious to the fact that he had followed me, a sudden honk from a car broke my concentration. I glanced up just in time to see a sleek Mercedes Benz arriving at the airport. When the window rolled down, I was surprised to see Montez behind the wheel.

"Yo! Desi!" He yelled while waving his hand.

I flashed him a warm smile as I tucked my phone into my pocket, rolling my luggage alongside me toward his car. He stepped out from the driver's side and wrapped me in a hug before lifting my suitcase and placing it in the trunk.

As I swung the door open and slid into the car, I noticed him returning to the driver's side. He climbed in, fastening his seatbelt just as I secured mine.

As he drove away from the airport, we headed towards their house, which was an hour's journey from our location. It promised to be a lengthy drive. Montez had some music playing softly in the background, creating a pleasant atmosphere. Meanwhile, I gazed out the window, taking in the diverse landscapes and neighborhoods that surrounded us.

I believe I made just one trip to Tennessee to see Bianca, and that was during my time with Jayden, when I was pleading with him to allow me to visit my best friend.

I broke the quiet in the car by saying, "I really appreciate you letting me stay with y'all, Montez," and he responded with a warm smile.

"Girl, you're more than welcome to stay with us, Bianca couldn't stop talking about you," Montez responded.

"Why are you here instead of going all around the world with your wife?"

He chuckled at me, "I had to come pick you up Desi since Bianca couldn't due to her schedule but after I drop you off to the crib I gotta catch a flight," I listen attentively while nodding my head in the process.

I thought I would be home alone until they returned from their events, considering they are professional wrestlers. To make the most of my time, I secured a job at a nearby tattoo shop and strip club, ensuring I wouldn't have to spend my days job hunting.

I was offered the job immediately because of my previous experiences back home. I'm optimistic that my time at the Strip Club will be smooth and free of any drama, considering how things typically unfold in that environment.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Montez had just dropped me off before heading to the airport to reunite with Bianca for their upcoming events. As I settled into my room, I began unpacking my belongings, carefully placing everything in the dresser to keep things neat and organized.

I treated myself to some adorable work outfits for my shift at the club tonight, and I have a strong feeling I'll earn a good amount while I'm there. As I was getting ready, my phone buzzed on the bed, and I quickly picked it up to see a message from Bianca.

IMESSAGE 💬 Binky💗: Hey Desiii just checking in Desi🫶🏽: Hey! Yes I am just now settling in atm Binky💗: that's good how do you like the room? Desi🫶🏽: it's really nice and the bed is comfortable too Binky💗: I'm glad when I come back imma show you around even though you been here before probably forgot all of the places 😭 Desi🫶🏽: probably do need a refresher ngl 😭😭 Binky💗: don't worry girl I gotchu fr you start your new job tonight? Desi🫶🏽: yeah I hope it don't be no drama 😒 Binky💗: yeah I feel you on that I will see you when I get back have a good day at work Desi🫶🏽: kk girly 🤍

I wrapped up organizing my clothes in the drawer and glanced at my phone, realizing I still had a few hours before I needed to head to work tonight. Deciding to save some cash instead of splurging at the airport, I made my way downstairs to whip up a quick meal. After all, those airport prices can really add up!

Bianca's house captivated me with its stunning aesthetic. As I stepped inside, I admired the decor before heading to the cabinet to gather ingredients for my meal. The cooking process began, and I felt inspired by the beautiful surroundings.

I learned to cook on my own because my mother was often absent, while my father was more present in my life. By the time she returned when I was about seventeen, I felt a disconnect and didn't want to forge a relationship with her. It just seemed uncomfortable.

My father was a dedicated worker who always ensured that we had food on the table and everything we needed. I had hoped for the same commitment from Jayden, but instead, he neglected me and treated me poorly.

I almost lost my bond with my father due to Jayden being rude and aggressive towards him but I finally made the decision to leave him without him knowing.

. His threatening messages and calls created a sense of fear about what he might do to me. However, now that I am away, I refuse to let those past experiences affect me any longer.

I finished cooking my food while heading towards the living room I sat the plate down along with my drink grabbing the remote as I turned on something on the TV.

As I sat in front of the television, a thought crossed my mind: if I hadn't experienced everything I did, would I ever find love again? Would I have the courage to open my heart to someone new?

I often doubted whether anyone could truly understand me. I considered myself a fractured spirit, 'or at least that's what I believed.' I constantly reminded myself to guard my vulnerability, convinced that opening up to anyone, especially a man, would only reveal their indifference.

I believed I had finished my meal, so I stood up from the couch and made my way to the kitchen to clean my dishes. After washing them, I loaded everything into the dishwasher for a thorough clean.

I returned to the living room to catch the rest of the show playing on the TV, hoping to squeeze in some sleep before my shift at work tonight.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

JEY As my friends and I made our way to the strip club, we were excited to catch a glimpse of some incredible performances and, if fortune smiled upon us, maybe even enjoy a little fun ourselves. Once we stepped inside, our attention was immediately drawn to the mesmerizing dancers on the pole, all while the pulsating music set the perfect atmosphere for an unforgettable night.

We settled into the luxurious satin couches, enjoying the view of the girls. I casually spread out, my gaze fixed on them, playfully giving them a light tap on their backsides before slipping some cash into their outfits.

A girl named Ke'liyah approached me and started dancing on my lap. As I observed her movements, I couldn't help but notice how I instinctively reached for her waist. She was attractive, though perhaps not as stunning as I had initially imagined.

The guys were encouraging me to fuck her, which I wanted to do because she was all up on me like this, while she was kissing all over my face and neck, which made my dick a little firm in my sweats.

Feeling her tongue against my ear before whispering, "Come fuck me with that big dick of yours," she said as my eyes became dark and filled with lust.

As she stood up from my lap, I slipped her some extra cash while she took my hand and led me into a private room. The cheers from the guys echoed behind us, prompting me to roll my eyes. I knew this was just a one-time experience, after all.

There was one girl who truly stood out to me; I had never noticed her before, and she seemed like a fresh face. Her radiant chocolate skin shimmered in the light, and her outfit perfectly accentuated her figure. As she applied lip gloss and adjusted her hair, she exuded a captivating charm that was impossible to ignore.

As I began to take in her features, I found myself already in the private room with Ke'Liyah. She had closed the door behind us, and my focus shifted entirely to her as she approached, the sound of her heels echoing in the stillness of the space.

I seized her by the neck, pressing my lips against hers with an intense passion. As our tongues intertwined, I lifted her by her thighs, carrying her to the bed. She eagerly tugged at my shirt and waistband, adding to the electric tension between us.

Very impatient I see I didn't waste no time I took off my shirt along with my sweats and boxers as my dick spring up hitting my stomach.

I gently withdrew from the kiss, guiding her head down with a firm yet careful hold on her hair, ensuring my grip was secure as she began to pleasure me.

As her tongue was swirling around my tip bobbing her head up and down I thrusted my hips inside of her mouth caused me to groan in pleasure, I clenched my teeth gazing down at her seeing her take all of me inside of her warm mouth.

The warmth of her mouth wanted me bust a nut inside of her throat so fast but I needed to be in that pussy first probably been with a bunch of guys before me lucky for me I brought protection.

"You like this daddy?" She muttered. I nodded my head while I guided her head back down on me.

I pushed my dick deep inside of her throat causing her to gag on me seeing tears forming in her eyes, "mhm, just like that baby," I cooed while forcing myself not  to nut inside of her throat.

She continued to suck me up good as I kept guiding her movements on my mushroom tip, I didn't want to nut inside of her mouth—not yet so I pulled her away from my dick pushing her on the bed on all fours.

I needed to be in that.

I pushed her panties to the side while putting on a condom before sliding into her harshly and began beating her shit up, this girl didn't mean anything to me only the one that caught my eye.

It was something about her I couldn't catch before coming in this room it almost looked like she just kept to herself and didn't interact with none of the men unless it was a lap dance, I need to come back up here to see her.

I kept pushing my dick deeper inside of her as her moans were filling up the room while I pushed her head in deeper into the bed listening to her muffled moans in the sheets.

"Ouuu daddy you're so deep,"

I didn't respond while pounding her shit into an oblivion while feeling my dick twitch inside of her knowing that I was about to bust soon.

All I could think about was shawty only her I hope she'll still be here when I leave this room, I quicken my pace inside of Ke'Liyah while she was screaming from the top of her lungs.

She was enjoying this way to much, too much for my liking since I had her head mushed in so I didn't have to see her face, I felt myself letting go as I came inside of the condom.

I pulled out from her while removing the condom from my dick seeing all of my semen inside of it, I got up from the bed placing inside of the trash can before getting myself together.

"That was quick," Ke'Liyah commented.

"Yeah, I got things to do shawty," I said while putting on my boxers along with my sweats.

"Seems, like you weren't enjoying it," I didn't respond to her as I grabbed my stuff and walked out the door leaving her dumbfounded.

As I stepped out of the private room, I noticed the guys still mingling with some girls. My focus shifted to the captivating girl I had watched earlier, dancing on the pole in a way that was unlike anything I had ever witnessed before.

She twirled gracefully around the pole, defying gravity as my gaze remained locked on her, utterly entranced by her beauty and talent. The moment our eyes met, a magnetic connection formed; her gaze held mine unwaveringly as she executed a flawless split, effortlessly transitioning into a sultry move that left me breathless.

I glanced down and realized I was aroused by her actions. I made my way to the stage, unable to take my eyes off her. As she approached, her hands explored my body, igniting a desire within me to discover everything about her.

She stands out from all the other girls in this club. As she took a seat on the stage right in front of me, she put on a captivating performance that I truly appreciated, playfully bringing her curves close as I reveled in the moment.

I gently pressed my lips against her chest for a fleeting moment before she stepped back. Seizing the opportunity, I wrapped my arms around her hips, drawing her nearer. With a tender kiss on her neck, I leaned in to whisper sweetly in her ear.

"What's yo' name mama? never seen you around here before," I whispered in her ear.

"Desiree, and you?" she said softly.

The atmosphere was alive with the vibrant sounds of 'Spin' by Megan Thee Stallion featuring Victoria Monet, creating a perfect backdrop as we locked eyes, lost in the moment together.

"My name is Joshua but people that I'm close with calls me Josh, or Jey whatever you want to call me Ma," I said.

Her smile lit up her face, and I couldn't help but think how adorable she looked. As she kept working her magic on me, I softly traced circles on her backside, savoring the moment.

I admire her body she had a great body shape everything hugged her so perfectly.

"Joshua huh? You're handsome I must say but I have to go," Desiree said as she got up from the ground, but I stopped her in her tracks.

She looked at me with a confused expression as I handed her a wad of cash along with my number tucked into her clothing. After gently kissing her hand, I said, "I'll see you again, princess," watching her walk away. I couldn't resist admiring the way her curves moved in that outfit.

I walked back over to the couches seeing the guys smirking at me.

"Yo, Uce, who was that shawty you was just talking to?" Zilla asked.

"Aye, all bets are off with her Uce," I said as I seen him roll his eyes at me.

"Man, fuck all of that, sounds like you tryna get with her and I'm tryna hit for real," was he fucking serious right now?

I just waved him off like I didn't listen to him as we continued to stay at the strip club for a little longer.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

DESIREE As I slipped into my usual attire in the locker room, I couldn't help but admire the stack of cash I had earned for the night, particularly the bills from a guy named Joshua. There was something uniquely intriguing about him—something that set him apart from every other man I had ever met.

There was something unique about his presence; it seemed as if he genuinely wanted to reach out to me. Yet, I reminded myself to guard my vulnerability and keep my emotions in check around men. It simply wasn't worth the risk.

I sensed a shove from behind, and when I turned, I found Ke'Liyah glaring at me, her face twisted in anger. In response, I shot her a fierce look, ready to stand my ground.

"Girl what?" I asked.

"New girl don't be coming up in here tryna still people's man," she said.

I raised an eyebrow at her, "excuse me? Girl he came onto me he seemed more attracted to me than you maybe your pussy wasn't good enough," I retorted as all of the girls kept their mouth shut.

I kept waving the cash he had handed me before I stepped off the stage. "Check out all this money he gave me! Did he share any with you? I doubt it—looks like you didn't impress him enough, Liyah." The more I provoked her, the angrier she became, but honestly, I couldn't care less. She was acting like they were an item or something.

I returned the money to my bag and zipped it up, but just then, she shoved me hard, igniting my anger. In a swift motion, I grabbed her by the hair, pulling her closer so our eyes locked in a fierce stare.

"Don't fucking mess with me bitch because I'm not the one," I shoved her harshly on the ground before heading out the door 'god why do I have to deal with this shit today over a man'

I climbed into the car, tossing my bags onto the backseat as I pressed the ignition button of the BMW. Running my fingers through my hair, I navigated out of the parking lot, eager to make my way home.

I reached into the glove compartment and retrieved a pre-roll blunt, seeking a moment of tranquility. With a lighter ready in my hand, I sparked it up and took a deep puff, letting the smoke ease my tension.

As I lit the candle and started my hour-long drive home, I turned on my favorite playlist on Apple Music. Yet, for some strange reason, thoughts of him kept swirling in my mind, refusing to fade away.

His striking features and the way he tenderly kissed my neck sent shivers down my spine. The sensation of his hands exploring me ignited feelings I had never experienced before. This level of affection was entirely new, and it left me utterly enchanted.

Not even from Jayden

He treated me with such calmness and tenderness that it surprised me he didn't lead me to the private rooms for intimacy. I could sense his arousal pressing against me as he drew me nearer, yet I couldn't help but wonder, 'why didn't he engage with me like the others did?' 'Why was he showing me this kind of affection? ' My mind was racing with these questions, desperately seeking clarity.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally arrived home. I retrieved my bag from the backseat and switched off the BMW with a simple push of a button before stepping into the house.

I used the key Montez had given me to unlock the door, then slipped off my shoes and neatly placed them on the shoe rack beside me. After closing the door securely, I made my way upstairs.

I stepped into my bedroom, closing the door softly behind me. Exhausted, I collapsed onto my bed, the weight of the day pressing down on me. As I rummaged through my bag, my eyes landed on his number still saved in my phone. A thought crossed my mind: 'Should I reach out to him?' I quickly dismissed it, telling myself, 'No, Desi, don't be foolish.' Yet, despite my better judgment, I found myself pulling out my phone and starting to text him.

IMESSAGE 💬 Desiree🦋: hey...is this Joshua? It's Desiree from the club? Joshua💵: What's up mamas I see you finally text me did you make it home? Desiree🦋: yeah I did Joshua💵: that's good but what's up? Desiree🦋: I wanted ask you something bout Ke'Liyah if that's okay? Joshua💵: im all ears baby

These nicknames were going to kill me if he didn't stop.

Desiree🦋: well me and her had got into it because of you saying how I shouldn't be stealing people's mans because I'm new, but did anything happen before you seen me? Joshua💵: I mean...I fucked her ofc but she came onto me I really wasn't feeling her Desiree🦋: oh why? Joshua💵: because she didn't catch my attention like you did when I left the private room Desiree🦋: me? Joshua💵: yes you, you caught my attention dancing like that on that pole Desiree🦋: it's nothing honestly just self taught honestly 😅😅 Joshua💵: mhm you was beautiful asf doing allat mama especially being all up on me like that today man you had me bricked up Desiree🦋: oh?😳 I'll take that as an compliment Joshua💵: but back on track you're saying that she's claiming me when all I did was fuck her? Desiree🦋: something like that I suppose seems like she was jealous to me Joshua💵: you gon' be at work tmr?

Why did he wanted to know that? What was he seeking out from me?

Desiree🦋: yeah to practice some new moves for tmr night why? Joshua💵: might come swing by and holla at you before I leave Desiree🦋: leaving? To where ? Joshua💵: imma professional wrestler baby doll it's my job to travel all around the world Desiree🦋: just like my best friend Bianca Joshua💵: that's yo' bestie? She talks about a certain some to my sister-in-law a lot I didn't know it was you Desiree🦋: yep that's Bianca for you 😭 Joshua💵: well imma let you get some rest beautiful Desiree🦋: kk gn Joshua💵: night 💗

As I reclined on my bed, my phone resting on my chest, disbelief washed over me. I had just texted him and engaged in a deep conversation. 'What was this overwhelming sensation he stirred within me?' 'I reminded myself not to fall for him—come on, Desi, don't be foolish; he's just going to take advantage of you.' Negative thoughts swirled in my mind, and I tried to dismiss the emotions before settling in for the night, having already showered at work.

I switched off the lamp beside me and set my phone on the small dresser, my gaze drifting up to the popcorn ceiling as my mind wandered into a sea of contemplation.

I couldn't let him not now or never no matter how friendly he seemed I'm keeping myself closed off I am a broken soul with a fucked up past trauma.

He wouldn't even know what to do with me I am not a good person to fall in love with.

I can't let him in Desiree don't do it.

As I settled into the bed, my mind wandered, leading me in and out of slumber, gently lulling me into a peaceful drift.

Don't let him in Desiree, don't

NOVACANE

biancabelairwwe, y2kjayden, uceyjucey, and others liked your post.

desifromtheblock: money go all around fo' me 🤭😩 biancabelairwwe: perioddd girl i love the outfit desifromtheblock: @ biancabelairwwe thank you bestie 💗 y2kjayden: you became a whore? No nigga would want to date yo' ass ke'liyahh: girl what fucking ever you just got lucky he'll show up again wanting me not you desifromtheblock: @ ke'liyah bitch go off yo' self before pressing me hon uceyjucey: sexy ass 😩😩 desifromtheblock: @ uceyjucey 👀👀

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A/n: hiiii I am back with another story i honestly got inspired by this book I am currently reading atm which made me want to do this. I hope Desiree could heal or at least open up to Jey soon.

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below

STAY UCEY

(2.)

[rapturously]

✠⠀༷ ゜𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒.

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[literaturewit65]

An Analysis of Dazai's Reactions to Death

Disclaimer: I haven't actually finished reading the manga yet so all information in this post is taken solely from the light novel and anime.

Spoiler alert: This post contains spoilers from 15, Storm Bringer, Dark Era and the anime of BSD

Warning: This post is about Dazai so naturally it contains mentions of su*cide and death.

This is my first analysis of BSD, so please be kind. That said, any constructive feedback is welcome. If you have any further questions about my perspective, please feel free to ask!

Then without further ado...

Bungo Stray Dogs written by Kafka Asagiri and illustrated by Sango Harukawa is a multimedia series which explores the complex nature of the human mind through its characters. One such character, Dazai Osamu, inspired by the 20th century Japanese novelist of the same name and his well-known work No Longer Human, is a character known for his eccentric behaviour and fascination with suicide. Often times his behaviour may come off as bizarre on first sight and one might think it is purely for comic relief. This essay aims to explain the reason behind his strange reaction to the sight of the murdered woman in episode five season one of the anime, or this scene.

This screenshot was taken from timestamp 6:27 of Season one episode 5 of Bungo Stray Dogs.

This will be done by exploring first Dazai’s reaction to death between the ages of 15 and 18 or during Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen and Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era, second by exploring the fact that Dazai is aware that he is different to other people, and finally by exploring the way he deals with this difference and with strong emotions during the present of Bungo Stray Dogs or at the age of 22.

Dazai’s reaction to death was unusual to say the least when he was the age of 15 and it continue to be so at the age of 18. There are three main instances where the audience watches Dazai react to death at these ages. In consecutive order from Dazai’s perspective—rather than the order they were published—is first, during the seventh light novel, Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen just after the fight before Dazai and Chuuya go to meet Randou. This scene takes place from page 53 to 54 of the English version of the light novel. There are several unusual points during this scene. But first it should be made clear that the audience has no real way of knowing what kind of experiences Dazai had been exposed to in his early life which could have a bearing on why he behaves this way at this age. There are plenty of theories but at the time of writing this Asagiri had not revealed what Dazai’s early life was like. Now, back to the point at hand. First it is unusual that a boy of 15 when faced with a dying man would ask him if he would like him to ‘end your suffering with this gun,’ (p. 53) however this may be disregarded considering that Dazai although not a part of the mafia seems to have been with Mori for some time at this point. What is more strange however is what Dazai says next ‘…But you’re showing me something extremely valuable—your death—so I want to pay you back,’ (p. 53). He then proceeds to repeatedly shoot the dead body while laughing. This could be chalked back to some sort of love for seeing others in pain if it wasn’t for what Dazai said before. He states that he sees the man’s death as valuable. There is no way of knowing how often Dazai had been exposed to death before but the fact that he views it as valuable suggests that at this point perhaps he had not been desensitized to it. Viewing death as valuable though is, decidedly, an unusual perspective for a 15-year-old boy to take.

The second time Dazai experiences death is also in the same light novel when Randou passes away. Those who have read Storm Bringer will know that’s not precisely what happens but at this point there is no evidence to show that Dazai has any idea Randou isn’t really dead and so it will be treated as another experience of death. There is a marked difference in Dazai’s behaviour in this instance compared to the one highlighted above. This scene takes place in Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen on pages 118 and 119 of the English version. Whether this difference in behaviour is to be attributed to the fact that Dazai probably knew Randou to some degree or to the fact that Chuuya had earlier highlighted to him the fact that his behaviour in the earlier scene was abnormal is up to interpretation. However, while his behaviour is more normal than before it is still rather unusual. During this scene Dazai seems more aware of the sensitive nature of what is happening because he asks Randou if he has any last words and continues by saying, ‘…If you have any final wishes, we’ll see what we can do to—’ (p. 118). This shows that he is sensitive to what’s happening and that it requires a certain type of behaviour, but it is still rather unusual given that this man is dying because of Dazai’s doing and the fact that Randou was trying to kill the former and Chuuya a few moments ago. Additionally, after Randou explains about what happened between himself and Verlaine before Verlaine betrayed him Dazai goes off on a tangent about the ‘inevitable destruction’ caused by ‘a fight between two skilled spies’ (p. 118). While Asagiri may have chosen to have Dazai say this in order to make it more clear to the reader why Randou tried to absorb Arahabaki, it is still a strange thing to do at somebody’s death bed. This being said, it is clear that Dazai is a lot more respectful at Randou’s death than he was at the G.S.S. officer’s death in the scene highlighted before as Asagiri states, ‘Both Chuuya and Dazai quietly listened as if there was something in what Randou was saying that they couldn’t allow themselves to miss,’ (p. 119). While it is possible Dazai is simply imitating Chuuya’s behaviour here in order to seem more normal it seems more likely that Dazai knows how to react better to the death of a person he knows and this idea is reinforced by his reaction to Odasaku’s death in Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era, which will be explored shortly. It is clear, however that Dazai is affected by Randou’s death in some way when the novel states ‘Some things, however, would not return to normal: the body of a man who no longer felt cold, and the hearts of the two boys who stood rooted to the spot, staring at him,’ (p. 119). This shows that Dazai is affected by death, but he seems to interpret it and deal with it in unusual ways.

The final example of when Dazai experiences death takes place three years later during the second light novel, Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era, when Dazai is 18 years old. At this point he has been in the mafia for three years, so he has probably experienced death quite a bit between now and when he was 15, however this is the death of the person who is probably the only one who ever understood Dazai—with the exception perhaps of Chuuya—and who cared for him in a way which was arguably like a father. This scene takes place from page 159 to 161 of the English version of the light novel. This scene is arguably the most interesting in terms of Dazai experiencing death for several reasons. One of those reasons is that while the scene deals with Dazai’s emotions, it does not deal with his reaction to Odasaku’s death but rather with his reaction to what Odasaku says, which causes a dramatic shift in his world view and which, as any reader will know, ultimately causes Dazai to leave the mafia and strive to become a better person. While the scene does start by dealing with Dazai’s reaction to Odasaku’s death the majority of the middle of the scene is spent on Dazai’s reaction to what Odasaku says to him before returning to his reaction to his death. The scene begins with Dazai rushing into the room, calling Odasaku’s name. This is pretty normal behaviour for anime and manga characters on seeing someone close to them dying. But Dazai then proceeds to say, ‘You’re such an idiot, Odasaku. The biggest idiot I know,’ (p. 160). That is arguably an unusual thing to tell your friend on his death bed, but compared to other things Dazai has done it’s not that abnormal. The scene continues with Dazai saying that Odasaku didn’t have to die. Which is standard behaviour. Then Odasaku says he wants to tell Dazai something. He proceeds with his statement about Dazai stating that he’s looking for his reason to live in the mafia and telling him that he won’t find it. The scene then proceeds to explore the idea that Dazai has finally realised how well Odasaku knows him. The rest of this scene is spent exploring this idea as well as Odasaku’s advice to Dazai. It only actually returns to Dazai’s reaction to Odasaku’s death at the end. By stating ‘Dropping to his knees by Odasaku’s side, Dazai looked up to the ceiling and closed his eyes. His tightly shut lips faintly trembled. The smoke from the cigarette rose straight up to the top. Nobody said a word,’ (p. 161).  The strangest thing about this scene is arguably, that Dazai doesn’t cry. It’s possible that he was holding back tears, based on this description but the fact that it is only implied and left up to the readers interpretation suggests that Asagiri didn’t want to explicitly state that Dazai was crying. In the anime version of this scene as can below there is no hint of Dazai’s eyes being shinier than they usually are when he has lights in his eyes.

This screen shot was taken from time stamp 21:33 of episode 4 of season 2 of Bungo Stray Dogs.

After that the scene zooms out so that Dazai doesn’t have a face as can be seen here.

This screen shot was taken from time stamp 21:38 of episode four of season two of the anime.

This suggests that the decision to not show if Dazai was crying was deliberate. Given how much Odasaku means to Dazai, and that he had just realised how well Odasaku understood him it seems unusual that he would not cry.

The combined evidence of these three scenes suggests that Dazai behaves rather unusually in regard to death but that he seems to process it more normally when the person is closer to him than when it’s a stranger, where his behaviour is decidedly strange. Regardless of his closeness to the person however, evidence would suggest that the way Dazai deals with death is different to other people to a greater or lesser degree.

Now, how does all this have a baring on Dazai’s behaviour many years later in episode 5 season 1 of Bungo Stray Dogs? It has a baring on it if one accepts the fact that Dazai is aware that his behaviour towards death is rather strange to other people. It is never explicitly stated that Dazai is aware of this, however based on his behaviour it is clear that Dazai knows he is different to other people. This is highlighted in a particular instance in the seventh light novel. This scene takes place in Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen on pages 53 to 54 of the English version. In this scene Chuuya stops Dazai from repeatedly shooting the dead body of the G.S.S. soldier. The scene commences with, “‘Quit that, you idiot […]  He’s already dead,’ said Chuuya, ‘Quit shooting his corpse,’” (pp. 53-54). However, it is Dazai’s response to Chuuya’s statement which shows that he knows his reaction is unusual. Dazai responds with ‘You’re right. When you’re right, you’re right. That’s the most normal reaction to have,’ (p. 54). Then as he walks away from the body after dropping the pistol he laughs. This is the scene as it’s written, “‘Ha-ha. ‘Normal.’ Ha-ha-ha.’ Dazai’s hollow laughter filled the cluster of trees, vanishing into thin air,” (p. 54). The fact that Dazai reacts by stating that what Chuuya says is normal and the way he laughs about it shows that he knows that he is not normal. If the idea that Dazai knows he is not normal is extrapolated, then it is implied that he also knows that his behaviour towards death is abnormal. If it is taken into account that Dazai realises his behaviour, particularly around death is odd it makes sense that as an adult he would want to hide that.

All of the above scenes took place when Dazai was still a teenager. However, it seems that even as a young adult he doesn’t know how to behave around emotionally charged situations. This is shown in episode one of Bungo Stray Dogs where Atsushi and Dazai are in the warehouse waiting for the tiger to show up. During this scene Atsushi is amazed by Dazai’s confidence and he states ‘You’re really confident, I’m kind of jealous. They called me a good-for-nothing at the orphanage. And now I don’t know where I’ll sleep tonight or whether I’ll be able to earn my keep tomorrow. […] No one’d care if someone like me were to die in a ditch somewhere. Yeah, I may be better off eaten by a tiger…’ this happens at 13:30-13:57 of episode 1 of season 1 of Bungo Stray Dogs. To Atsushi’s statement Dazai does not reply. He is silent for a beat with a neutral expression as shown here.

This screenshot is taken from timestamp 13:58 of episode 1 season 1 of Bungo Stray Dogs.

He then proceeds to state that he thinks the tiger will come soon. This is an unusual reaction given what Atsushi just said, and it would make more sense for him to comfort the boy. But he doesn’t. This is arguably because Dazai doesn’t know how to react in what would be considered a normal way in an emotional situation like this. If he doesn’t know how to react normally here it is unlikely he knows how to react normally to death. Now, it has been made clear above that he recognises his behaviour as abnormal, and it is likely that since his instinctive reaction is abnormal, he is unable to fake a normal reaction as he doesn’t know what this would be. Hence his unusual reaction in episode five season one. He reacts with such melodrama because he knows that his instinctive reaction isn’t normal, but he doesn’t know what a normal reaction would be, and he can’t just not react either thus he opts for this melodramatic reaction which, although isn’t normal still shows a rather dramatised version of sadness at the woman’s death which is perhaps more normal than what his instinctive reaction would be. And although the others at the scene who don’t know him are rather confused at his reaction it attracts less attention than if he were to react in a similar vein to his reaction to the G.S.S. officer’s death.

To conclude Dazai’s melodramatic reaction to the murdered woman in episode 5 season 1 of Bungo Stray Dogs it not just comic relief, there is a deeper meaning behind his eccentricities. He reacts this way because he is self-aware enough to know that his instinctive reaction to death is unusual and in order to not shock other people at his behaviour, he opts for the melodramatic response he gives since while still unusual it is more similar to the way a normal person might react being a rather melodramatic version of it.

[juniperskye]

Take A Seat.

A lil Blurb - Based on the following request: Please Aaron Hotchner x BAU! fem reader smut? like they are just lazily making out on the couch and things get hot? (Reader rides Hotch like her live depends on it and Hotch clingy for dear life while she does it)

Hotch x Fem Reader

Word count: 607

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Fem reader, pet names, SMUT, porn with no plot. Let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Aaron had just returned from a two-week long case, and you were feeling pretty needy. Jack had been spending the night with his aunt and you had never been more grateful for that fact. The second Aaron had walked through the door you had pounced on him.

That was nearly thirty minutes ago now. His go bag, shoes, and suit jacket long forgotten in the entryway.

Now, Aaron was sat on the couch with you straddling his lap. Your shirt had been tossed over somewhere near the coffee table and the buttons on Aarons had been pulled open in a heated frenzy.

He was sucking deep purple marks into the skin where your neck and shoulder met while you grind your hips down into his lap. A moan slipped past your lips as Aaron nipped at your skin. His gaze lifted to meet your own and if you looked anything like he did…you were both completely wrecked. Hair tousled, lips swollen, pupils dilated and dark with lust, desperate. You knew what he needed and even more so, you knew he was going to give into your desires before anything else. That’s the thing about Aaron…he was a giver.

“I need you.” You gasped as Aarons lips pressed into the top of your barely covered breasts.

“You have me sweetheart. Take whatever you need.” He mumbled, pulling the lace of your bra down to expose your peaked nipple.

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips when his teeth grazed over the sensitive nub. With shaking hands, you moved to pull at his belt, trying to free his achingly hard cock. It had been straining against his slacks, pressing hot against your core for the better half of the last half hour.

Aaron tapped your thigh, signaling you to stand momentarily to allow you both to rid yourself of the remaining clothing you had on. After a moment of tender hands assisting one another to undress, you made your way back to your previous positions.

As you lower yourself back into Aaron’s lap, he guides his cock into your waiting entrance.

“God your cock feels so good.” You groan into Aaron’s ear.

“That’s it baby. Take what you need.” Aaron praises as you find your rhythm.

--

The room was hot, salacious sounds of skin slapping against skin the only audio in the room. Your hands were white knuckled, holding the back of the couch as you bounced up and down on Aaron’s cock. His hands gripping your hips, supporting your movements. While his face pressed to your skin, moving from your neck to your breasts as you moved against him.

The sounds escaping both you and Aaron were pornographic, loud and uncontrolled as you both neared peak.

“Aaron baby I’m close!” You gasped.

“Cum for me sweet girl, let it go.” He instructed.

After a few more thrusts, you felt the band snap, orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. All the while Aaron is now guiding your hips, chasing his own release. His hands wrapped around you in a bruising grip while his lips attach to your skin.

Sweat was cast over your skin, your hands were holding onto Aaron’s shoulders, you’re thankful for his grip on you as you are sure you’d have collapsed by now. His continued ministrations have sent another wave of pleasure to wash over you and the convulsions of your pussy finally sending him over the edge.

Aaron painted your walls with a grunt of pleasure, and as his breathing settled, he placed a sweet kiss against your lips.

“I missed you.” You whispered.

“I missed you too sweetheart.”

[msbarrybeeson]

Before You Go | Future Donnie & April Insight (Part VI)

(Reader Included)

A/N: Any constructive criticism is appreciated. Reader comments and feedback are also welcomed a lot. 

I have been gone for a long time. Just occupied with my studies! No fan fiction author curse or anything (yet).

Summary: You’re both adopting-parents of Casey. The story follows the perspective of Donatello and April O’Neil during the Kraang apocalypse. You and Leonardo decided to ask them to watch over thirteen-year-old Casey.

In other words, familial interactions between April, Donnie, and Casey Jr.

Reader: Gender-neutral pronouns are used, except the terms “(Mom / Dad)” are also used. Second POV.

Pairing: Rise! Future! Leonardo X Reader

Warnings: Bittersweet.

Word Count:  ~3490

Parts: One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / ...

~

Donnie knew how much of a genius he was.

It was no surprise after all. In his late teens, he improved NASA’s satellites to communicate with planets light centuries away. He cured breast cancer through the use of protons in radiation therapy to target specific cells, rather than affecting the harmless. Hell, he even managed to discover a new type of radioactive particles: mutons. By that point, he—.

“—should have been given a Nobel Prize in Medicine and in Chemistry.” Donnie cursed under his breath. He strolled over to his lab bench, equipping his goggles.

Squeeeak. 

April– who was found seated on Donnie’s roughed-up, spinning gaming chair– raised an eyebrow. Her hair had grown out and was left unbounded. Faint wrinkles and eye bags on her features displayed maturity, in contrast to a couple of years ago. However, everyone was well aware that time was not the only factor. 

“Whatcha going on about now, Donnie?”

The softshell huffed. “Recall when I wrote a report about my experimental findings with an invention meant to revive a deceased human being?”

“...You mean the one where you thought it was a good idea to open up Curie’s tomb? Even gone as far as to ask for my help?” April grimaced. “Who’d ever forget that.”

She proceeded to massage her temples. 

“God. You were in all kinds of messed up for that, Don.”

Lightning-like yellow sparks flickered as Donnie had his robotic hands occupied with a butane torch. His goggles were sealed tight around his eyes as he built a oval-looking device on his lab bench. Titanium outer-layer over a seriously complex circuit-board; appearing as if Samsung marketed grenades.

He scoffed. “Oh please. It wasn’t as if I’d taken long to understand how Marie Curie deserves her rest for her great contributions to radiation. Thus is why–.”

“–You decided to take a poor random husband of an old wife,” April interjected.

“Ahem.” Donnie pronounced. “The poor woman was begging me for her husband to be alive again. I was simply gracious and generous enough to not charge her for the process.” He set aside the butane torch. “At least it progressed well; he stayed alive for an additional two years. It gave his wife psychological comfort, and I was able to submit my paper to the N.S.F..” 

He picked up a screwdriver. “Except....” 

April could tell her friend’s eye was twitching. 

“They rejected my findings, nearly had me detained, and claimed it was far too ‘unethical.’” Donnie raised his volume. “Scoff! As if those researchers weren’t committing the crime themselves! Taking bodies away from families and claiming them as scientific property without permission.

If I could go back in time and shove my documents in their jaws, you bet I would.”

April smirked. “Well, I have my regrets too, Donnie.”

“You sound rather amused, April. Is that so surprising? And here I never thought you would regret your part-time job at Albearto’s. Or the fact you wasted money to switch to journalism in university.”

WHACK!

April threw her bat at Donnie’s head, flying back to her hand like a boomerang.

“Watch your mouth, mister. I may have regretted Albearto’s, but not a single moment in my life did I ever regret my journalism passion.” She stood up.

“Ouch.” The softshell vocalized, squinting his eyes toward her. His robotic clampers paused, setting aside the torch and taking off his goggles. 

“Mind yourself, April. Horse-playing is forbidden in the laboratory. I am not consenting to having yet another silver-titanium apparatus get scratched because of you.” Donnie gritted his teeth. “Can you hear the negative connotation?”

“Seriously, Donnie? Where’d that come from? Not only was that years ago but it ain’t anything except a simple accident.” 

“‘Simple accident?’” the softshell repeated with dramatic offense. “An accident, like many others in science labs, which could have caused severe damage! Remember the incident when your teacher dumped bleach and vinegar into the trash bin?

You know, if you had paid any attention in your chemistry class, those two would make mustard gas?” Donnie side-eyed his friend. “Simple accidents can have serious consequences, O’Neil.”

A hand crept up the lab bench.

“Uh-huh, and I’m supposed to believe an instance of me knocking over your phone and books would kill somebody?” April crossed her arms. “If anything, the blame’s yours for not organizing your desk when you got drunk on coffee.”

The hand took ahold of the butane torch.

“Donatello? Disorganized? Sounds cheap coming from you, a student majoring in Journalism.”

April pulled up her coat’s sleeves. “Oh boy, you’re about to get it—.”

Squeeeak!

Heads spun and found a 13-year old boy, replacing April’s spot on Donnie’s chair. Casey eyed the torch with a great yet concerning amount of curiosity.

“Yo, what’s this for, Uncle Don?”

At lightning speed, while April ran to move the gaming chair away further from the workbench, Donnie snatched the tool from his hands. “Child. Casey. Young man.” The softshell heaved loudly. “I must inform you this is NOT meant to be handled with such casual ease. How in Hawking did you even—.”

“Don’t your lab have a passcode or something?” 

“–Is what I am wondering myself, O’Neil. I refuse to believe this child remembers the beginning thirty numbers of π–.”

“Nope, only us.” April and Donnie lifted their gazes to his lab entrance. You leaned on the frame while a dear red-eared slider stood just behind. A couple of steps inside, and the metallic lab door shut close. 

Donnie– strangely– was quick to hide his device-in-progress off to the side.

“You’re back!” April grinned. “Hell, you would not believe the convo Donnie and I were having a minute ago.” She hurried to hug you.

“Figures,” Leo remarked. “We could practically hear you yards off.”

“Sounds like things never get old.” You smiled.

There was a side-eye between Donnie and April, before the Commander proceeded to inquire, coughing: “Anyhow.. care to explain the occasion? You two don’t seem to be in a hurry.”

“The only times you ever visit my laboratory are to prepare for immediate combat engagement, and you look awfully collected.” The softshell furrowed his brows.

“No, no.” You waved your hands, shaking your head. “Thank God no. We came here to ask if you two could take care of our Casey here while we head out.” The other turtle scrunched his in-quote eyebrows. “You— You came here to request us to... babysit him?”

April jabbed him in his plastron.

“You see? Just like I said.” Leo turned to you. “I know my brother, love. Don’s not the kind of guy to take responsibility for a kid. Or anyone, really.”

“Hold on.” Donnie narrowed his eyes. “I never said I refused, Leo.”

“Don’t know, it sounds like it to me.”

“Well, my misinformed brother, contrary to your belief, I am perfectly capable of handling a child.”

You huffed with amusement. Your husband only winked back.

“If you say so, Don.”

“Where are you two heading off for if you needed us to watch over him?” April inquired. “Wondering, ‘cause this never happened even when you two leave for patrol.”

“Just finding some time for ourselves.”

April exclaimed, “As in a honeymoon? Why not just say so? We’ll leave you two alone–.”

“–In this economy and climate?” Donnie interjected. “Has it also not been six years since your yet-to-be-legal marriage?”

“Alright, alright,” Leonardo chuckled. “Cut us some slack, bro. Finding time wasn’t easy when there’s Kraang above our necks.”

“Right, and you’re going on a honeymoon, how?” The softshell crossed his arms. “Simply because you’re the leader does not equate to you making wise decisions, Leo.”

“His ōdachi can teleport anyone to anyplace, we have some hope we can easily teleport to a remote area,” you answered. “One without Kraang infestation. It’ll be hard, but we may as well try.”

“Bonus points if we find clear skies and an ocean.” The red-eared turtle grinned, wrapping his arm over your shoulders.

“What’s a honeymoon, (Mom / Dad)?”

Your hand went to caress Casey’s cheek. “Parent quality time. It just means you get to handle yourself like the responsible grown-up you’ll become one day. Just promise me you’ll be on your best behavior around Uncle Don and Auntie April?”

“I promise, (Mom / Dad)!”

“Good boy,” Leo laughed, ruffling the kid’s hair.

“You didn’t ask Mikey and Raph to help out too, or?”

“Between you and me, I think you guys are better of making sure Casey doesn’t get into any chaos,” you whispered to April. “Don’t tell them that, though.”

She laughed. “Okay, I see how it is. You both have fun.” 

Donnie bit his lip. Right as Leonardo and (Name) turn to exit the laboratory, he extended his arm out to them.

“Leo, (Name).”

You two faced back to him once more.

“Don’t kill yourselves out there.”

Everyone’s eyes widened– April, you, and Leonardo himself. But the brother in blue snickered, holding a smile that reached his eyes. “So you do also care for me, Don. And all this time I thought you were plotting to put me in my grave or something.”

“We won’t.” Leo placed a hand on your shoulder. “You got my word.”

“Bye (Mom / Dad)! Bye Papa!”

“We’ll be back soon, Casey!”

Donnie stood in silence as you finally left, leaving himself with none other than his best friend and his nephew. “I refuse to believe this is the future we have to deal with.”

“Times changed all of us, didn’t they?” April spoke. “One day we wish each other a good one, and the next, we hope we just don’t die. I could’ve been a famous news anchor by now, make my mother happy, fight crime without worrying about dying the next second.

..I wonder if there’s anyone else out there besides the small number of us down here.”

“..I doubt it.”

Donnie pulled himself together and walked back to his workbench, operating his clampers to work once again. He put on his goggles. Casey, being a young teenager of enthusiasm, peeked over.

“Watch yourself, boy,” April warned.

“Don’t worry about me, Auntie. I’m only standing over here.” Casey narrowed his eyes upon the glowing and metal-like ball his uncle had his tools on. “What are you working on, Uncle Don?”

“A sphere.”

“A sphere?”

“You heard correctly.”

“That sounds kind of boring.”

Donnie had to hold himself back from remarking with: ‘That is exactly what every child whose intellect is doomed would say.’

“I’m sure your mother would find it rather moving.”

“(Mom / Dad)? I don’t understand what’s emotional about a ball, though.”

“Hey Casey.” April coughed. “Why not tell us about your mask here? Haven’t taken a good look at it before. Maybe Uncle Don would like to hear it too.”

“You actually want me to talk about my mask?”

“Ain’t a problem, is it?”

“No.” He fidgeted with his fingers a bit. “You don’t have anything else to do?”

“We were just told to watch over you, kid.”

“Yeah, but everyone I know is always busy with the Kraang or supplying weapons. I never really get chances to hang out.”

There was a brief pause in the butane torch’s flame.

April’s expression softened. Her hand came up to brush his black hair. “Things have gotten calmer up there. So you’ve got plenty of time with us now.”

Casey smiled.

“So your mask?” 

The boy alternated between covering his face and removing it. “(Mom / Dad) gave it to me. She told me it is based on the one worn by my biological mother. (Mom / Dad) also said that my birth mother was kind of crazy-funny and likes to be loud. She would have a stick to play– what was it– hockey?

I don’t know what kind of game hockey is supposed to be, but I guess it’s nice to know how life was like before all the Kraang.”

A sad smile crept on April’s lips. 

“Anyways, I thought the mask looked kind of plain, so I decided to draw red marks on it. See?” Casey showed his mask off, fingers tapping the surface. “Guess who it looks like!”

There were two bold and thick streaks of red. Each one ran through one eye, truly a defining characteristic. The Commander chuckled, already imagining how much pride her friend in blue would feel from the fact a kid– let alone one he had been parenting– looked up to him so much.

“You know, I am seeing someone familiar here.” April hummed as she put on a thoughtful facade. Fingers holding her chin and everything. “Got to be Uncle Don.”

Named turtle paused for a moment and raised a brow.

“Seriously, Auntie April?” On the other hand, Casey gave her an incredulous look and shook his head. “You probably want to get your eyes checked out, ‘cause Uncle Don doesn’t have any red stripes.” Off to the side. “And even if he did, he won’t look as cool as Dad.”

April snickered behind her palm as Donnie eyed the boy from behind his goggles.

“You’re right, you’re right. Just messing with you, kid.” Her hand ruffled his hair once more. “Sounds like you really admire your Papa, don’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Dad has an awesome sword that opens up portals. He always moves so quickly whenever he’s fighting. Bam! And the Kraang’s gone!” The teenager stretched his arm for emphasis. “Even as the leader, Papa knows when to get serious and when to make people laugh. He also cares a lot about me, (Mom / Dad), you guys, and everyone!”

It made even Donnie himself smile. 

However, the way Casey’s enthusiasm died down had not gone unnoticed. “I’ve always wanted to help out though.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “I want to fight the Kraang right by his and (Mom / Dad)’s side. Except I barely get the chance to, because they keep telling me to stay close to base and hide behind a giant rock.”

April crossed her arms and went quiet. His feelings were nothing new. In fact, she experienced the same thing herself, seeing she had always been a human. It was like that until–.

“Have no hard feelings,” Donnie spoke up, his hands and eyes remained on his spheric gadget. The sparks were flying. “Your parents are merely worried about your well-being.”

“I know, I know. They won’t have to though, if I can have enough training or something.” Casey sighed. “Then again, I also know I’m only a normal sensitive human.

...Why can’t I be a mutant instead?”

“Ahem. You are classified as a human. That is a true statement and one you cannot change.” Donnie hummed. “However, that does not mean you cannot be strong and capable in other ways.”

“Why does it sound like you’ve been in my place before?”

“Perhaps I did. Did you truly think being a soft-shell turtle is easy? I happened to be born as one of the only Testudines species whose outer shell cannot protect.” Donnie remarked. “Casey, your mask.” His hand signaled.

“What about my mask?”

“I merely want to add something.”

Confused, he hopped off the chair and handed the mask over. “Hmm. As long as you don’t mess with the stripes, Uncle Don.”

“Who says I won’t?”

Casey kicked Donnie’s leg.

“‘Ow,’ I say sarcastically without feeling physical pain.”

“Hmph.” He crossed his arms. “Why do you keep saying things like that?”

“Such as?”

“You say those action verbs, even when you’re already doing them.”

April snorted. “Just his thing, kid. Uncle Don’s got his special quirks.”

“Do you have a quirk?”

“Picking unnecessary fights for one,” Donnie commented.

“You only call them ‘unnecessary,’ because you never want to fix the problem.”

He rolled his eyes. “My solution would’ve been ten times more efficient if you had allowed my technology and I to do the work.”

Casey wondered. “Does your tech ever go haywire, Uncle Don?”

“No.”

“Oh man,” April began, “you should’ve been there for this one time. Your Uncle Don was building some kind of overprotective bed to keep your late Gramps from waking up from his beauty sleep.”

“Gramps likes to sleep?”

“You’d be surprised to hear that he sure does.”

“Then what happened?”

“Uncle Don asked your Dad, Uncle Mikey, and Uncle Raph to try punching, slicing, throwing whatever they could on the bed. They were attacking it like crazy!”

“And then?” 

“And the bed was even more insane, ‘cause there were actual missiles shooting out! They went straight for his brothers. At some point, it got overboard, so Uncle Don tried to command it to stop.”

“I’m hearing a ‘but’ coming.”

“But it malfunctioned and thought Uncle Don was the enemy!”

“However!” Donnie pointed his finger up, interrupting the story-telling. “It did not take long for my creation to recognize his master.”

“Still went haywire in my book,” April remarked. 

“Ignoring that.” His robotic hand tapped the edge of his workbench, grabbing Casey’s attention. “Come here, young man.” He slid back the mask, except in his hands, it felt as if the frame had thicken.

“It looks the same, but it doesn’t feel the same?”

“Try wearing it over your face.”

The boy did as told. All of a sudden, a bunch of green rectangles and words appeared in his vision. He gasped in awe. He spun around slowly, watching the rectangle focus on a figure through the wall.

“Yes yes, I know. I am well aware of how amazing I am.” Donnie huffed in pride. “I have opted to construct an interface with your mask. I cannot see why you shouldn’t have something to defend yourself with,” he reasoned. “I have other updates in mind later on. As of now, however, your mask will help you detect life forms across other rooms or through other objects.” 

“That’s so cool!” The boy hesitated though. “But I don’t want to break it or anything.”

“Hey.” April rested her hand on Casey’s shoulder, giving a firm squeeze. “Our resources are already scarce. Using then losing them is better than nothing. You better make the most of our tech. Understood, soldier?”

Casey grinned underneath his mask. He fixed his posture up and saluted. “Gotcha–! Understood, Commander!” 

He faced the inventor, whose hands were already back to being occupied with the “sphere.” “Thanks so much, Uncle Don!” Casey exclaimed, leaping towards the turtle to give a tight hug. “You’re the best!” 

Upon contact, Donnie stiffened up, but his lack of experience with physical touch did not prevent a smile forming on his face. He extended a robotic arm, patting Casey’s back. 

The boy then scanned around curiously with his mask. “Hey! Think I spot Uncle Mikey and Uncle Raph two floors down! They’re holding hands over a table or something. Why are so many people circling around them?”

April rolled her eyes. “Sounds like another arm-wrestling match between the our youngest and oldest brother.” 

Just like that, Casey booked it out of the laboratory so quickly, it reminded her of a certain red-eared slider. “What the–! Casey!” April groaned. “And here I thought we don’t have to deal with runaway kids. I better catch up to him.” 

“Would not worry about him too much,” Donnie commented. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Considering we will not always be alive to protect him... the sooner we leave him to himself, the easier it will be for him to survive alone.” 

“Hey. Come on now.” April walked to her best friend’s side. “Don’t you say things like that. We’re all going to survive this together–.”

“April.” Slight pain wavered in his voice. “You know as well as I do how our current reality is. It is only a matter of time before the Kraang finds everyone.” 

“Yet you’re still here trying.”

No response.

“It’s all because of the kid, isn’t it?” April affirmed. “He ain’t any genius prodigy you were expecting long ago. But he gave you a reason to try– he became someone worth fighting for.”

“I would not put it as simply as that.”

She shrugged. “That’s how I’d say it. You know you’re not the only one whose life changed because of Casey.”

Donnie paused his work, turning off the butane torch and finally pulling his goggles off his eyes again. “...Casey reminds me of when we were young, being rash and immature teenagers like any other. I hate admitting to such thing, but I was one too. And I hate admitting much more how much I missed those times.

The child has known nothing of the trouble we’ve experienced outside, April: when Cassandra was killed, when Draxum was torn apart, when Dad decided to sacrifice himself despite the slim odds.” His hands clenched into fists.

“Do not expect me to have any false hope for our future, but do not assume I would want Casey to feel the same way. For as long as he can, I want him to hold onto that false hope.”

“...” April had her arms crossed. Her eyes slowly came to linger on the workbench. “Is that ‘sphere’ his false hope?”

“..No. Not his.” Donnie traced his thumb over his contraption. “It’s for (Name).”

[blushpawss]

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist .ᐟ ᡣ𐭩 wattpad .ᐟ

hi lovelies! 𖹭

i’m yuzu — a 21-year-old asian writer who’s just here to spread cozy vibes ~ currently working on love and deepspace, my fics are all fluff, zero angst/tension/smut. this blog? strictly sweet moments, no drama. just here to make hearts smile — one cute story at a time!

when i’m not lost in my stories, i’m probably curled up with a good book or vibing to my fav music. oh, and i’ve got an adorable orange kitty named garfield, who somehow always knows when i need a mood boost ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ !

english isn’t my first language, but hey, i’m working on it — one word at a time. writing feels like my personal little adventure. sure, progress is slow, but hey, at least i’m getting somewhere… right?

anyways, welcome to fluffy paradise! if you’re here for the fluff, stay for the feel good vibes 🩷✨️ ～

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ

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𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ

i love hearing what you think about my work! comments, reblogs, and constructive feedback? always welcome! let’s keep the love flowing and support one another! 🩷

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[excalibur-gone-missing]

Paring: The8x fem!reader 

Requested: no

Genre:  angst, established relationship, hint of fluff

Warning(s): themes of grief, loss, major character death, mourning and hospitalization (im not a doctor so please excuse my medical knowledge)

Summary: You never thought of your husbands life as fleeting. But time did its dutiful job of reminding you so.

Word count: 1.1k

Other works 

Beta reader: none

disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration. 

a/n: I would greatly appreciate it if all of you could take a moment to comment on this fic. As an author, I find great value in your feedback, as it allows me to better comprehend my readers, and I thoroughly enjoy interacting with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcome, so don't hesitate to talk about this fic or send me an ask.

[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise] 

You wore the baby blue dress, adorned your eyes with waterproof mascara, and got ready to go out. Your son shouted from the kitchen, “Mom, I packed one more hotteok for you. Have it with Dad. He will love it.”

Smiling at how thoughtful of a young man your son had grown up to be, you walked out of the bedroom to caress his head. “I will eat it. Don’t worry so much.”

The boy gave you a hug in return, promising to visit you with his wife sometime soon. After all, the girl was pregnant and would need as much care from you as possible during her pregnancy.

With that, you walked out, ready to meet your husband for his birthday lunch, which was packed in the heat-retaining bag with you. It was almost an hour’s drive to the place from where you lived. The commute never got easier, no matter the time or the day.

You got into the taxi; you were never one to learn driving. It was just not needed, as someone at your house was always there to help you commute, be it your husband or your son. So at times like this, you felt the absence of the skill.

But it was not like life didn’t go on. It was not something you wanted to change at this age. You were scared of banging the car into some random tree and feeling the wrath of your husband for causing damage to the love of his life, Vivian. Yes, that indeed was the name of the car. And yes, it was the great idea of your husband to name it so. Some might say you both didn’t have a daughter, but he would like to disagree with them, because you both obviously had Vivian. You sometimes suspected he loved that godforsaken car more than you.

The man was shameless enough to agree with those accusations, but he was too cute to argue with, so you let him be.

The time passed inside the car thinking about your husband, the times you both had spent together, all those rocky yet satisfying moments, and all those nights you both ditched all your friends and family to stay in together, basking in each other’s presence. It was one of those feelings that made you warm and mushy inside, no matter what.

----

“Do you think we will be together forever?” Minghao asks you. It's been a year since you both tied the knot after dating for two, and yet you still feel like your breath stops every time you see him. He just has that effect on you; it's not reasonable, but it's true.

“What do you mean? You are stuck with me. I will hold onto you no matter how much you try to escape!” you say as you pull him in for a kiss.

Satisfied with your answer, he happily goes back to doodling in his diary.

----

As you walked into the hospital, you gave the guard a kind smile, which he returned. After all, when you frequent a place long enough, you end up becoming acquainted with almost everyone who works there.

Quickly, you walked to your husband's cabin. As you entered the room, you could hear your lover whining at the nurse about something, a sound that immediately ceased as his eyes found you.

Without wasting any time, he stretched his arm towards you, his eyes asking for you to hold him. As you embraced him, the nurse walked out, giving you both privacy.

“Happy birthday, my love,” you said quietly, as he rested his head on your chest.

“What did you bring me?” came a quiet whine from underneath you. Laughing, you let go of the man and began to show him, one by one, the feast you had prepared for him.

The minute he laid his eyes upon them, his face broke into a childlike smile, waiting for you to complete plating his food so he could enjoy them.

After all, it had been a long time since his doctors allowed him to have something you brought for him. Within seconds of putting the food on the plate, it was gone. Not that you were complaining, but it was still a record for the man. Never had you seen him devour your cooking this fast.

“Slow down,” you had told him, but the man had all his attention focused on the food, too much to care for his wife.

The nurse didn’t let you stay in the room long after that. The authorities were a bit too strict about maintaining the rules for your liking, but it was okay.

With a last meaningful glance at each other, you exited the room to meet his doctor to complete the procedures for his discharge.

----

“I can’t do this anymore, Y/N,” your husband cries out loud from your embrace, and you hold him, rocking gently.

“But you promised you would hold on. What will I do without you?” you say, trying to hold back your tears.

Looking at you, he wipes the stray tears that have escaped. “I can’t live like this. It’s too much. I’m three surgeries in already, and I don’t see any hope anymore. Maybe this is how it was supposed to be. Plus, this place feels too suffocating for me to be in.”

Not being able to come up with a rebuttal, you just stay as you are, trying to understand why it has to be him who goes through so much pain while simultaneously pleading with some supernatural being to give you all his pain.

That night you both spend crying. But what has to be done will be done.

----

 Minghao had been dancing most of his life. Even after he stopped being a professional dancer, he was a dancer at heart. The constant heart attacks that resulted in him being permanently attached to life support, along with the surgeries, killed him inside. They slowly murdered the dancer in him. He lost his sense of freedom, something he treasured the most.

It was then he realized nothing was worth his freedom, not even his life. So there you were, arguing with the doctor to let him be discharged, even though he was at high risk of having another heart attack and should be constantly monitored.

“I understand that, sir, but this is what my husband wants, so I would like you to prepare his discharge papers,” you said, persistent.

“Sure, ma’am. It will be done by tomorrow,” the doctor said reluctantly after realizing there was no winning with you.

After completing the procedure, you went back to your husband to give him the good news about going back home the next day. He looked happy. You could see it in his eyes, and you were happy for him.

If only you had known that the next day you would take your husband away from that hospital for good, but not in the way you had hoped to.

That night, Minghao suffered another attack, one that was hellbent on taking him away from you. It ended up succeeding.

As you sat there at the funeral home, beside the beautiful picture of your smiling husband, and with your son greeting the guests coming to pay their respects, you couldn’t help the tears from falling as you thought of the happy memories you both had shared and how even eternity was too little time for you to spend with him.

The End

[ask-ikevamp-faust]

Rules/Boundaries

-> Warning MDNI: Ikemen Vampire has mature themes, therefore this blog will also feature mature content. This is a role play blog. The character belongs to Cybird. That being said, I am a REAL person. There is no AI. I’ll be doing my best to act out a character. 

-> I have read his route. My responses will be based on how I interpret the character. I do not speak his native languages so I will not use it. Only pet names if the character uses them in the story. I will always answer in character unless you ask otherwise. If you wish to direct an invoice to me either DM me or just use “Admin” in your invoice. I will always do my best to respond in a timely manner. If it’s slow at times it’s because I’m busy with things IRL. 

-> Please be mindful when phrasing your questions/comments. Use emojis or emphasis/details of any kind to set the tone which you are implying. (You can express dislike of a character or dissatisfaction of certain lore without being rude) Feedback and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated 😊 I will not tolerate rude behavior, hate, or bullying towards myself or others. Questions/comments of this nature will be deleted, reported if necessary. 

-> If I am ever uncomfortable answering something I will make the response private in order to communicate the issue. I don’t have the option for private replies for anonymous. For any issues there I will simply reply with an admin note.

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-> Sexual topics: flirting and suggestive questions/comments are okay. Sexual questions/comments can also be educational/informative, I’m very comfortable with the topic in such discussions. 

-> You may ask the character for advice or vent your troubles but do not trauma dump. Please seek professional help if necessary. 

-> You can @ me anywhere and I will respond in character. I’m okay with crossovers, like reblogs or @ in other Ikemen series ask/roleplay blogs but if the other party is not comfortable then please respect their boundaries

-> All other Ikemen series and OC ask/roleplay blogs are welcome to interact with me in the ask box and DMs. I’ll read your rules before answering. We can also coordinate special interactions/fan service(?) if you’d like.

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-> Have fun and interact with your favs! I enjoy doing this so please don’t hesitate to send something in! 😄💖 (May adjust if needed)

[utmv-altverse]

⭐️ALT-VERSE ⭐️

⭐️MASTER POST ⭐️

Welcome to the blog! This blog is intended for teens and above! Please keep this in mind while consuming the content. Also be warned for uh … skeletons ? Nothing much, 2024 am I right?

• ‘Ask + interact’ requests are wide open until otherwise is said !

⭐️Blog Master Tags

• #altverse - main tag

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(The master tag will be added on to more as the blog expand)

⭐️Social medias

Most of what can be find about Altverse is on Instagram from when I first started it!

All my social medias follow under the name Scientistsc1 ! The only media that doesn’t follow this is this blog only!

⭐️Blog rules

• Unless it’s important, please keep this account drama free. But don’t be afraid to contact me if something comes up or if you have any concerns.

• I only own my multiverse and the designs I created for the characters listed. But the aus itself presented aswell as characters do not belong to me unless it’s credited otherwise ! Please keep that in mind! :)

•If you do not like my multiverse that is completely fine. Not everything is everyone’s cup of tea. But id prefer if you gave me constructive criticism or feedback instead of bashing my work.

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Last updated: 7/8/24

____________________________________

[tswaney17]

I Do Bad Things with You - Part 38

As promised, we're celebrating my 30th birthday with a little update. 🎂🎁 This is definitely a filler chapter, and one that I fought with a lot. I'm not entirely happy with it, but we're going to move on. I have so many exciting things coming for this AU that I can't wait to share with you. Thank you all for reading! 💙💜💚

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW (kinda)

Word Count: 5,461

It had been three months since Feyre’s gallery showing and Elain and Azriel were living in utter bliss. Though the quietness from Elias and Azriel’s brothers kept him on edge, he didn’t let that affect them. Even agreeing to let up on her security protocols for getting dropped off at work—seeing as she was late twice. Granted, she had to sway him a bit, which meant she ended up kneeling on the couch and then bent over the armrest.

Not that she minded one bit.

Since she’d broken through that last barrier of her trauma, Elain felt like a new woman. One who was fully confident sexually and able to give Azriel more of herself.

He took full advantage of it too. Just last night, they were going at it doggy-style, but rather than maintaining an upright position like her ex would, Azriel leaned over her and held her against his chest so she slid up and down his body, their skin maintaining contact.

Holding them both up with one arm, he wrapped the other one around her, securing her to him. Elain had never thought doggy-style could hold any kind of intimacy—any sort of romance—but like always, Az surprised her with how he pleasured her. He liked the feeling of her against him when they fucked and, well, she loved it too.

Elain smiled to herself as she made her way to the private wing of the emergency room where high-valued patients were kept. Viviane had paged her, telling her someone requested her specifically for a consultation. “Hi Viv,” she called when the bleach blonde appeared in her line of sight.

“Ellie,” she smiled. “Thank you for coming down. I tried to persuade him to have a regular check-up before going straight to a surgical consultation, but he was insistent,” Viv explained handing over the iPad with the patient’s medical chart on it.

Glancing through the notes, nothing stood out to her.

“Do you recognize the name?”

She shook her head. “I don’t. I’ve never heard of this man before.” Her brows furrowed as she tapped the screen, digging further. “There’s not much here. What is he in for?”

“Appendicitis. Said you took out a friend’s and they recommended you.”

Elain looked up at her friend and caught the caution in her eyes. “You don’t believe him.” It wasn’t a question.

Viviane shrugged a shoulder. “If he has appendicitis, then he’s got a very high threshold for pain tolerance.”

“Do you think he’s lying to hide what’s really wrong?”

“Possibly. Though I’m not sure what it could be that he couldn’t tell me but will tell you.”

Hugging the iPad to her chest, Elain said, “Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Striding to the closed door of a private room, she knocked and entered. “Hello, Mr. Thompson. I’m Doctor Ar—”

She froze three steps into the room.

Because the man that turned around on the other side of the exam table was none other than Elias Hewn himself.

He smiled sinisterly at her. “Hello, Elain Archeron,” he cooed.

Like a doe, she turned to bolt from the room but found the door being slammed shut and blocked by another man, larger in stature than Elias. A guard of some sort, she assumed. The size of him, the way his biceps bulged when he crossed his arms indicated she was likely correct in that assumption.

Trapped.

She was trapped.

Her heart skipped in her chest as fear settled in. Whirling around to face Elias, Elain lifted her chin and told him, “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve to come here.”

The man chuckled, slowly walking around the table and towards her. “You should consider yourself lucky I merely came here and didn’t take you while you were leaving.” His head cocked to the side. “Though, correct me if I’m wrong, that’s already happened to you, has it not?” he taunted.

How he knew about her kidnapping was beyond her, but then again, he played in a world she wasn’t completely privy to. News about Azriel’s girl getting kidnapped by Hybern and his killing them probably spread like wildfire in the underworld.

His lips curved up even more. “I’ll take your silence as confirmation.” He moved closer to her, stepping into her personal space and letting his eyes flick over her face. “I can see why Azriel is so taken with you. You really are gorgeous.”

“Azriel,” she snapped, “is taken by more than just my looks. I don’t think I could say the same for you.” Elain folded her arms across her chest, careful with the iPad still clutched in her hand. “What the fuck do you want?”

Elias tugged on a lock of hair, letting the curl wrap around his finger before thumbing one of the earrings that her boyfriend gave to her for her birthday.

They were gorgeous halo studs, sapphires in the center, and surrounded by diamonds. He had been insistent that she keep them when she tried to tell him they were too much and took to using his mouth into persuading her.

His lips curled up. “Azriel has good taste in jewelry.” His knuckle ran over the curve of her cheek. “Is that how he keeps your legs spread?”

Elain’s face heated at the words, at the implication. But she bit her tongue, letting him think he was luring her in.

He leaned forward until his lips touched the shell of her ear. “I could show you things he never could.” He said it in a daze, almost trance-like. His body shifted closer until any large breath would have his chest brushing hers.

Her blood raced as he encroached in on her, dominating her person with his presence. And just when she knew he thought he had her, Elain brought her arm back and cracked it across his face, hard enough to send his head snapping to the side. “Do not touch me,” she snarled, stepping back to add space between them.

His fingers touched his cheek, mouth parting in what she could only describe as shock.

Before he could say anything, she snarled, “How dare you come in here, posing as a patient, and lay your hand on me.” Her heart was beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings. Like a symphony of an enemy’s drum as it approached.

Faster than she could detect, his hand snapped forward, gripping her by the throat and pinning her against the door. Her back smacked the wood, knocking the breath from her lungs. “Do you have any idea what you two have done to me? To my company?” he hissed in her face. The rage that lined his features reminded her so much of that night with her ex-fiancé. She knew what happened when men lost their temper; remembered seeing that same viciousness in his eyes that she saw in Graysen’s.

But Elain wasn’t the same woman she was when he tried to assault her. No, she was the girlfriend of a mobster. Despite the fear racing through her veins, it was time the world recognized and respected her power for who she was. She wasn’t going to let her terror make her cower to this man.

Throwing on her best sneer, ignoring how hard her chest was beating, she told him, “That sounds like more of your poor planning than our problem. And you need to leave. Now.”

Elias’s dark eyes narrowed, fingers tightening around her throat, restricting her airway that much more, as he looked at her. Really looked at her. Assessed her in a way that told her he was trying to determine how much of a fight she’d put up. He released her neck, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dress pants like he was restraining himself from grabbing her again. “You and I are connected, Elain. I felt it the first moment we met.”

She nearly got whiplash from the change in direction, gulping down quiet breaths now that his hand was removed from her throat, but she focused on his words.

The night of the fundraiser, when he sniffed the skin of her inner wrist and grabbed her when she denied him what he wanted. “There is no connection between us, Elias. You need to get that through your skull.”

“Then how do you explain you sensing my presence at the club?” he asked, cocking his head to the side once more, dark hair sliding across his brow. “I know you felt me watching you—saw you looking around for me.”

“I didn’t know it was you.” A lie. She and Azriel both were convinced it was Elias at the club even though Az never found footage of him. He had to have come in some sort of disguise.

A smile curled up the side of his mouth. “Liar. You knew it was me.”

She stayed quiet.

Elias shook his head, laughing to himself in a way that had her blood going cold. “Believe what you want, pet, but we both know the truth—”

Elain had had enough of his games. Pushing off the door and forcing him to take a startled step back, she demanded, “What do you want, Elias? I won’t ask again.”

He shifted on his feet. “I just want you both to know how easy it is to get to you. That no matter how much security he has in place, I can still find you.” He stepped closer, leaning in until his mouth grazed her cheek in a featherlight kiss.

Her body locked up, but she refused to show him just how much his closeness affected her.

“I will exact my revenge on you both. You won’t know when, or where, but one day I’m coming for you for what you did. And when I do, we will have so much fun.”

Anxiety gripped her chest at his words. At the underlying threat in his tone. She knew he wasn’t lying; that one day, he would take what he believed he was owed. But the worst fear was that she didn’t know how he would try and take his revenge.

“Have a good day, Doctor Archeron,” he murmured, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, and tell Azriel good luck getting to me.” Shooting her a wink, he and the other male strode from the room, the door clicking shut behind him and his guard.

Elain gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth as a sob tore out of her throat. She dropped the iPad to the ground and pulled out her phone with shaky fingers. Clicking on Azriel’s name, she put the phone to her ear.

He answered before the second ring. “Hello, love.”

A strangled sound escaped her that had him instantly on alert.

“Elain,” he said her name urgently. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

She sniffed, hating the tears that built in her throat and were threatening to flow down her cheeks. Pathetic—it was absolutely pathetic how much he affected her, but she couldn’t stop the droplets from rolling down her cheeks. “He was here,” she said so quietly, Elain wasn’t even sure Az could hear her.

“Who, Elain?”

Swallowing the painful lump, she breathed, “Elias.”

The line went silent for half a second. And then she heard him moving. “Did he touch you?” The wrath in his voice had some dark piece of her soul stirring.

She debated on telling him or not, knowing it would anger him further, but eventually decided to go with the truth. “He…he grabbed my neck,” she told him, fingers grazing the skin of her throat where she was concerned bruises might form. “Az—he was at the club that night. He told me.”

Her boyfriend swore low and filthily. “I should’ve put a fucking bullet in him when I had the chance.”

The words didn’t bring her any comfort, something he must’ve sensed because he added a bit more softly, “El, the Moonbeam twins are in the lobby waiting for you. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Elain tried to take a steadying breath. “I’m okay, Az.”

“I’d like to see that for myself.”

She didn’t get the chance to argue further before the door of the exam room swung open revealing Connall and Fenrys, along with a very concerned-looking Viviane.

Finding her kneeling on the floor—when had she gotten down here?—the golden blond twin was instantly moving to her side, lying a comforting palm on her back.

“How the fuck did he get in here?” he snarled at the nurse.

Viviane blanched at the tone. “He came in by ambulance.” Hence why neither of the twins saw him enter the building.

“And you just let him in here with her alone?”

Those crystal blue eyes turned to ice. “How was I supposed to know he was a threat to her? He used a different name and it’s not like you’re out here waving around pictures and names of people who are a threat to her for me to review. Of course, I wouldn’t have let him near her if I had any inkling that he was dangerous.”

Azriel’s midnight voice cut through the arguing, having heard the exchange. “Love, can you pass me off to Fenrys, please?”

Elain tapped his shoulder to get his attention before offering up her phone. She kept her gaze on her lap, trying to work through the anxiety in her mind until her breathing slowed, going through the motions she established with her therapist.

“Mr. Knight, I—” he was interrupted by Azriel.

And although she couldn’t hear the conversation, she had a vague idea of what he was saying. That Viviane was her friend and she’d never let any harm come to her knowingly.

“Yes,” Fenrys said. “By ambulance.” From the corner of her eye, she caught him nodding his head along to whatever was being spoken to him on the other line. “No, of course. I will…sure.” The twin passed her back the phone.

Her boyfriend’s voice was a welcome balm to her worries. “Elain, would you like to take the rest of the day off and go home, or do you want to work until the end of your shift?”

She was surprised by his offer, having figured he’d want her to go home immediately. “You don’t want me to come home?”

He paused, likely debating her question and how to answer it. “The decision is not mine. It’s yours. Now that Elias has approached you, I don’t believe he’ll do it again at the moment. However, if you do choose to stay and work, I would like the twins inside the lobby to monitor who comes and goes.”

Elain didn’t want to let Elias’s sudden presence affect her. She refused to give that to him. If she was going to be Az’s partner in life, she couldn’t let events like this control her from doing her job; from living how she wanted to. Taking a deep breath, she told Azriel, “I want to stay.”

“My strong girl,” he murmured sweetly and she could hear the pride in his voice. “Okay, let them know you’re staying. I’ll swing by shortly just to check in—”

“No.” Elain was surprised at how sturdy her voice came out. “He wants to get a rise out of me, out of you. He likely anticipates you flying over here to check up on me and take me home, and is sitting out in the parking lot somewhere to watch. I don’t want to give him that satisfaction. Let’s make it seem like his threat isn’t worth our time. That will show him.”

She didn’t need to see his face to know it had taken on a deadly grin. “Spoken like a true queen of the underworld. I concur. Keep your eyes open for anything else and stay safe, El. Let the twins know what the plan is. I’ll see you tonight.”

After bidding him goodbye, Elain rose to her feet with a set determination she hadn’t felt in a long time. “All right…here’s what we’re going to do.”

~~~

A week after Elias’s surprise visit and Elain was starting to feel it. Three nights she’d woken up from nightmares, Azriel hovering over her as he attempted to pull her from her dreams. Despite her desire to not let him affect her, her dreams wouldn’t give her a reprieve.

Just last night she had shaken herself awake, breaths coming out in shallow gasps. 

But Azriel was already pulling her into his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat soothe her racing one, to calm her heavy breathing. He’d run his beautifully scarred hands over her back; stroked through her damp air.

She’d take a few minutes to collect herself. Just allowing his presence, his scent to comfort her. Some nights he’d try to ask her about the dreams, but last night he just held her until she fell back asleep. Elain appreciated that he never pushed her into talking about her nightmares.

But after just three episodes, she was bound and determined to shake them.

That was how she found herself standing in Az’s—well, their—home gym, eying all the different equipment. He was currently in his office down the hallway, working, so she figured she could take advantage of his busy state.

Looking at all the weights and the bench, Elain felt herself feeling a bit intimidated, so she started on the treadmill to work up her courage. After two miles—huffing and puffing because fuck, she hated running—she hopped off and stretched out her muscles.

Glancing at the weight bench, Elain plucked her bravery from deep in her gut, slipped on a ten-pound weight on either side of the bar, and laid down. Twenty pounds wasn’t too heavy. She could do that.

Taking a deep breath, she slid the bar off the little hooks when it dropped on her chest. The wind was knocked from her lungs as she desperately tried to push the weighted bar off her, but it was no use. Her panic about being pinned down crept on the edge of her mind. Wheezing as she tried to catch her breath, Elain managed to get out a desperate, “Azriel!”

Quick footsteps sounded down the hallway and then he appeared in the doorway. A filthy curse word left his lips as he rushed over to her, gripping the bar with one hand and effortlessly lifting it off her chest and back onto the hooks. “Elain, hey. Are you all right?” he murmured, coming round to kneel beside her.

Panting, she went limp on the bench, eyes closing as she tried to level her breathing out.

He waited patiently for her to calm down, fingers squeezing her thigh and letting his thumb swoop across the fabric of her leggings. Once she was back to normal, Elain opened her eyes and found Azriel staring down at her.

“El, sweetheart…do you want to tell me what you were doing?”

Sitting up, she flipped her leg over the bench to face him fully. “I don’t want to feel weak again.” She cast her eyes down towards her lap. “Elias showing up at the hospital has put me on edge—”

“I know. It has for me too,” he told her, taking her hands in one of his.

She looked back up at his face. “I thought that maybe if I started using some of your weights, I’d feel safer. Like I could protect myself.” She eyed the weights next to her with disdain. “I must be weaker than I thought because I only stuck twenty pounds on it.”

Azriel’s lips curled up. “Elain, love, the bar itself weighs around forty pounds alone. You were trying to lift sixty.”

“Oh…” Well, that explained why she couldn’t lift it and made her feel less incompetent.

“And without a spotter.”

Golden-brown eyes met his hazel ones. “You don’t use a spotter.”

“I’m also well-versed in lifting weights. And I know my limits. I don’t go above them when I’m working out alone.” He lifted his palm to cup her cheek, letting his thumb swoop over the apple of it. “But you’re right. I don’t use a spotter and I should.”

He brushed his finger over her skin again. “Do you want to try again? With me here. And no weights—just the bar this time.”

Elain glanced at the weight bench and then back at him. “Not today. I think I’m done trying to lift weights for now. Can we go again in a couple of days?”

“Of course.” Az leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. “And you’re not weak, Elain. I’ve seen the things you can do…what Cash has taught you.” He reached up to stroke the delicate skin of her throat where she knew the finger-shaped bruises were starting to fade. “You are far from weak, my love.”

She felt those words brand themselves on her soul. He was right—of course, he was right. She was the girlfriend of a mob leader…she would never be weak again. Rising from the bench, she headed for the door but stopped at the threshold to look over her shoulder at him. “I’m going to shower. Care to join me?”

Heat flared in his eyes as he quickly followed behind her. “Like you have to ask.” Azriel swooped down to throw her over his shoulder, making her laugh.

“Az, I’m all sweaty. Put me down.”

He popped her on the ass. “You act like that’s going to stop me from ravishing you in the shower.”

And ravish her he did.

~~~~~

It had been a month since Elias had surprised Elain at the hospital and they had yet to hear another peep from him. Azriel had Ruhn searching for him, but even he had been unable to locate the fucker.

It infuriated him to no end, especially since he made the comment to Elain about “good luck finding me,” and directed it towards Az himself. Not being able to find him now was just a nail in the coffin of his rage.

Ruhn believed the bastard had gotten in with the Illyrian Mob, and he had to agree. Nobody else would be able to hide from him or his crew for this long without the help and resources of the rival gang. He also said that there was still no word on what they planned to do with the information about his relationship with Elain.

Just the two unknowns combined made him antsy for the other shoe to drop. However, he didn’t let that take away from his time with Elain.

“Still nothing on him. No phone records, no credit card purchases. He’s simply fallen off the face of the earth,” Ruhn growled through the phone, equally as pissed about being unable to locate the bastard.

Az sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Frankie has him hidden and protected. He would’ve had to if he planned to utilize him after what he did to Elain.”

The man on the other line paused before quietly asking, “How is she?”

“The bruises that fucker left on her neck are finally gone,” he snarled, rage building in his gut as he remembered seeing those finger-shaped purple marks dotting her immaculate pale flesh.

“We’ll find him, Azriel. I give you my word I’ll bring him to you for revenge.”

He let out a breath, knowing that Ruhn would do everything in his power to capture that fucker for him. Because Elias signed his death warrant when he laid his hands on Elain. “Thanks, Ruhn. Call me with any updates.” He ended the call, dropping his phone onto his desk and letting out a loud groan, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes until he saw spots.

It had been rough for his girl since he showed up at the hospital, though things had calmed down since then.

After about two weeks, her nightmares seemed to lessen and now she was rarely having any, thank fuck. He hated waking up in the middle of the night to her whimpered cries, body shaking from her terrors. Ached to take away her pain. To do anything other than just hold her after an attack. But that seemed to be all he could do for her at the moment. He just hoped it was enough for her.

His intercom on his phone buzzed and Nuala’s voice filtered through the line. “Mr. Knight: Feyre and Rhysand Archeron are here to see you.”

Fuck, he was not in the mood for company, knowing any little thing would set off his anger. He clicked the button to respond. “Thanks, Nuala. Send them in.”

Rising from his seat, Az buttoned his suit jacket just as his door swung open to reveal his siblings. Feyre leading, and Rhys carrying a large, flat object wrapped in paper. “Good morning, Feyre. Rhys. Is that my art piece?” he asked, nodding toward the hidden item.

“Indeed it is,” his sister chirped. “Where’s it going? The front wall?”

“Yes, right there,” he pointed towards the wall directly in front of his desk. Helping Rhys move the painting over, he ripped off the wrapping and stood back to admire the piece. “Fey, this is gorgeous. One of your best works. Thank you, for this.”

The artist beamed at the compliment. “It was truly a pleasure to paint this. And I’m happy you out of everyone connected with it.”

He knew what she was referring to, the fact that it was of an Illyrian from the history of his heritage, one he adamantly vocalized being against. It was a surprise for everyone when he requested that specific piece. But perhaps it was time to recognize the flaws and move past them.

“Do you want us to hang it?” Rhys asked, watching his brother closely. As a half-Illyrian—one who recognized and sympathized with him and his issues—he was the most curious about Az’s sudden change of heart.

And Cash, of course.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll email our maintenance team to come to hang it sometime this week.” He studied the art piece leaning against the wall. “But thanks for the offer.” Azriel walked back around his desk and sat down.

Feyre perched herself in one of the leather chairs, craning her neck around to brush a fingertip over the hole in the back. “Az, what happened here?”

He met her gaze and debated if he should tell them the truth or not. Opting for the former, he told them, “I threw my letter opener at Elias after he made some nasty comment about Elain. It embedded there in the leather.”

Their eyes went as large as saucers but it was Rhys who asked, “Does threatening everybody who comments about her seem like the wisest decision?”

“It makes me feel better,” he said petulantly, eyes flashing dangerously as if daring his brother to make another comment like that.

“I think what Rhys is getting at,” Feyre interjected to stop the brewing storm forming between the brothers, “is that will those threats come at a cost? Will it put Elain in more danger?”

Azriel sighed, rubbing at his brows. This was not a conversation he needed to be having with his siblings. But like normal, they were sticking their noses in a place where they didn’t belong. “Elain is in danger just by being with me. Since we’ve established that there is no going back on that, I will do everything in my power to make sure she’s safe. That she remains safe. And if that means threatening and putting myself between her and anyone who dares speak her name, then so be it. It is a price I am willing to pay.”

“Is she?” Rhys challenged.

“Come again?”

“Is she willing to let you put yourself in that position?” his brother clarified. At his silence, Rhys powered on. “Every threat you make, every enemy that comes forth puts her in danger, Az. It’s not just you anymore. You have to think of her—”

“I am thinking of her!” he snarled. “You don’t live in my world, Rhysand. You don’t understand the consequences of looking weak. I can’t just walk away. If I tried, they would come for me. And for her. I will not let that happen.”

His brother just looked at him; those violet eyes assessing his words. His anger. Finally, he leaned back in his seat, steepling his fingers together. “I only want to keep her safe, Az. She is more like a sister to me than an in-law. I will always look out for her well-being. Even if it’s against you.”

The words were like a blow. How far he had fallen with his siblings to see him as only endangering their family. His love. Perhaps, in their own way, they were right. Ever since he came back into Elain’s life, he had thoroughly derailed it. She’d been kidnapped, used as leverage, stalked, threatened…the list goes on.

But she had brought so much good to his life. Joy, happiness, a sense of purpose. He wanted to build a life with her. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he couldn’t have that and balance his more deadly self.

Feyre cleared her throat, recapturing his attention. “Elain told Nesta and me a little bit about what was going on when we went dress shopping.” She paused, chewing on her bottom lip. It was a nervous tick he picked up on—something she did when she was trying to figure out how to say something. “Is there still a threat going on?”

He and Elain had spoken about how much information they told their siblings. They had agreed on a “needs to know” basis, and well, this felt like it was needed to know. So, he told them everything. About Elias’s initial threat, his stalking at the club. Him seeking her out at the hospital. Azriel laid everything into the open for them.

His sister’s brows had gone straight to her hairline, her hand partially covering her mouth in shock. “That is…terrifying. How is Elain managing it?”

“Comes and goes. She had some nightmares after Elias sought her out at the hospital, but we’ve managed to get those under control. I’m trying not to be overbearing with her protection detail, but want to make sure she’s covered should anything happen. The Moonbeam brothers are staking out in the hospital lobby now.”

Rhys leaned forward to rest his elbows on the tops of his knees. “Maybe you guys should take some time. Get out of Velaris for a bit and let things calm down.”

He sighed, the breath whooshing from his chest. “I’d love to, but I don’t know if Elain has any vacation time built up.”

Feyre snorted. “Please. Elain hasn’t taken a vacation day since she was hired at the hospital for her residency two years ago. She’s got like two and a half weeks built up. And when her residency completes in a few months and they hire her as the attending, she’ll accrue like fifteen additional days a year.”

An idea took root as his sister-in-law spoke. “She told me that she wanted to go on a vacation. To the beach. I think a surprise trip is exactly what the doctor ordered.”

Rhys snickered at the pun.

“I’ll need to give her boss a few weeks’ notice. Maybe the middle of next month?” he said more to himself than anyone else.

“I think that sounds perfect. Get her out of the city. Honestly, I think the last time Elain did any sort of traveling was right before she started college. Since then, she’s been buckling down on her studies. It would be well-deserved. And a long-time coming,” Rhys told him.

He nodded in agreement. “Wait, we have Nesta and Cassian’s baby shower next month.”

“We can move it,” his sister said. “Nesta will only be seven months along next month. We can move it to the following one. No invitations have been sent out anyways.”

“I don’t want to inconvenience them.”

Feyre waved him off. “Please. I think Nesta would be happy to know that you took Elain somewhere safe.”

He supposed that was true. “I think I will. Thanks, guys.”

Feyre and Rhys rose from their respective chairs, each offering him an encouraging smile. “Well, we should be off. We have a few other deliveries today from the gallery show.”

They were almost to the door before he called out, “Oh, Feyre.” He waited until she turned to look at him.

A secretive smile overtook his face. “What’s Elain’s ring size?”

~~~~~

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