#thanks for being so patient with me and my difficult brain

[tvrningout-a]

good evening dash!! i feel more like myself and ofc my first instinct is to write angst so :' )

[willgrahamscock]

No one prepares you for how crippling grief is, last year my mom died of cancer. I watched her decline so rapidly that my brain couldn't understand who I was looking at by the time she passed. I couldn't understand who I was by the time she passed because I had to become a vessel who makes appointments, dresses, nurses, cooks and an entity who does not sleep. I did it all alone. The reality is that cancer eats away at everything, it lives on even after the patient dies. It ate away at every part of me, I couldn't get out of bed, I had sleep paralysis, I couldn't stop seeing her... like that. They asked me if she's my grandmother when they carried her out of the house. She was in her early 50s. Do you understand? In 3 months, she began to look like she was 80. Everyone wanted me to move on after a month, no one called anymore, not even a text. I thought I was alone when she was alive, but this was a new type of isolation. One that I barely survived. (thank you to my mutuals and tumblr for being an outlet)

It's been a year and 6 months, today I realized she's not the first thing I think of in the morning, or the last thing I think of before I fall asleep. I couldn't even call to do paperwork before, now I'm forgetting why it was even that difficult.

The sun's out, I think i'm going to get ice cream without feeling guilty that it's not something she can do anymore.

[lau219]

Tell Me The Truth

•• Jonathan Crane x Reader ••

Story note: Thiopental is the proper name for what’s more commonly known as “truth serum.” It works by slowing the brain’s higher levels of functioning, making coming up with lies or fabricating complicated stories difficult for a person.

***!!!Warning: Mature sexual content, mentions/use of needles, blood, drug administration/drug influence, reader vulnerability/loss of some defenses and control, 18+ readers only, minors DNI!!!***

…………………………………………………………………………….

“Y/N! Wait up!”

Looking over her shoulder, Y/N saw one of the lab technicians, Terry, jogging towards her down the wide hallway. He was coming from the lab office where they’d just been talking, and as he approached and got closer, Y/N smiled, and when he stopped in front of her, she raised her eyebrows.

“Is there something we forgot to review?” she asked him, still smiling.

“No,” he shook his head, catching his breath after the jog through the wing of the building, “but you forgot this,” he said, lifting his hand and revealing her access key card he held between his fingers. “You left it on the counter in the lab.”

Her eyebrows raising again in surprise, Y/N reached out to take the key card from him.

“Oh, gosh! Thanks so much! I’m gonna need that later.”

“You mean tomorrow,” he suggested in correction. “You’ll need it tomorrow.”

“No,” Y/N replied with a shake of her head. “I mean tonight. I’ve still got some work to do after I drop these documents off in Dr. Crane's office. I need to sort through the results of the latest trial he conducted for that proposed new version of Thiopental, and then I have to go back to the lab and begin dosing out the vials of it for the next trial.”

“How many trials is he going to do?” Terry asked.

“Just these two,” Y/N replied. “The first was to track the physical effects and duration of those effects, as well as efficacy. This next trial is to assess the intensity of effect and the average recovery time. We’re hoping this version of the drug won’t leave patients feeling as spacey and out of it for as long as the original version typically does.”

“I see,” Terry replied with a nod of his head. “Who else do you have working on this with you?”

Y/N shook her head.

“No one; just me,” she then replied.

“Geez, Crane really likes to work you, doesn’t he?” Terry responded.

“It’s not like that,” Y/N said. “He allows plenty of other people to be involved in running the trials and collecting the data. It’s just that when it comes to interpreting the data and getting everything organized for the trials, he wants me to do it.”

“He keeps you on a pretty short leash,” Terry countered.

“No,” Y/N said again. “He’s giving me the opportunity I need, which is to gain firsthand experience and knowledge. This is exactly the kind of stuff I need to be involved in as I work towards my PhD. It’s what’s entailed in being a research assistant.”

“I don’t see him making anyone else work after 5:00 p.m. on a consistent basis,” Terry said then. “But you’re always here late.”

“He doesn’t make me; I do it on my own accord.” Y/N replied.

“Why?” Terry asked with a skeptical raise of his brow. “It’s not like he’s a joy to work with. It surely can’t be his personality that keeps you hanging around. The guy couldn’t be less inviting or more clinical. Has he ever even thanked you or acknowledged what you do?”

“Terry,” Y/N said, admonishing him for criticizing Dr. Crane. “He’s a brilliant doctor and an ingenious pharmaceutical developer. It’s only natural for him to be very clinically focused. But, truly, he’s not as cold as you make him sound. He’s just...focused.”

“You know, your face always flushes whenever you talk about him,” Terry said teasingly with a smirk as he looked at Y/N. “In your eyes, he can do no wrong. Does your strong defense of him have anything to do with the fact that you so obviously have a crush on him?”

Blushing even deeper than she apparently already was, Y/N’s jaw slightly dropped in surprise.

“I do NOT!” she insisted, hugging the files she was holding to her chest.

“Please, Y/N, it’s all too obvious. We all work in pretty close quarters in that lab; it’s hard to miss the way you look at him whenever he’s in there with us. And if that’s so obvious in the lab, I can only imagine how much more you fawn over him when it’s just the two of you in his office.”

“I do NOT fawn!” Y/N denied again. “I’m his assistant. I’m supposed to pay close attention to him and help him in any way that I can.”

Of course, though, Terry was right. Y/N’s loyalty to Dr. Crane and his work was genuine, but it was one hundred percent correct that she had a hopeless crush on the doctor as well. He was incomprehensibly smart, dedicated to his work, and constantly developing something new in the field – he was so accomplished. He was also insanely handsome and sexy (although he seemed to be unaware of that fact), and although he displayed a quite cold, clinical demeanor ninety-eight percent of the time, there were glimpses of affection that he’d shown Y/N here and there over the last year, and it was enough to get her imagination running for all sorts of different scenarios. How many times had she imagined those lips of his on hers? His hands gripping her waist while she was bent over the lab counter?

Admittedly, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, there was something else about him that spoke to her as well. He had a kind of...intimidating way about him that made her feel things. Almost like a slight hint of menacing or danger that made her both nervous and excited when around him. It was like he was balancing between remaining composed and becoming something a bit darker...equally as ready to either praise her or punish her, depending on whether or not she pleased him. And she always tried very hard to please him.

“You’re like his little pet, you know?” Terry continued then. “He snaps his fingers, and you—”

“Mr. Hall!” a very familiar voice suddenly called out from down the way, cutting into their conversation, and both Y/N and Terry turned to see Dr. Crane standing several yards away, briefcase in hand as he looked at Terry.

“You’re supposed to be in the lab right now, are you not?” he spoke again, his voice still raised slightly for them both to hear. “I don’t believe we’re paying you to ignore your responsibilities and distract my staff, so kindly say your goodbyes to Miss Y/L/N and get back to work.”

Turning back to face Terry, Y/N gave him a look that was a cross between apologetic and sympathetic.

“Don’t worry; I’ll tell him you were just bringing me my key card,” she whispered to him.

“Won’t matter,” Terry replied with slight resentment, briefly eyeing Crane again over Y/N’s shoulder. “But maybe if you slip in a good word for me when the two of you are making out later, that might change his mind.”

“Shh! Don’t say things like that! Someone could hear you!” Y/N said in a somewhat panicked voice. “If a rumor starts going around that he and I—”

“Miss Y/L/N!” It was now Y/N’s turn to be called on by the doctor, but when she turned her head again and looked at him, he said nothing further, just gave her an expectant look and remained firmly where he stood.

“I gotta go; thanks for bringing me my card,” she whispered again as she quickly turned back to Terry for the last time. Then she grabbed the key card from his still outstretched hand and closed her fingers around it, turning around once more and briskly walking towards Dr. Crane with her files still clutched to her chest with her other arm. Crane continued to hold her gaze as she approached him, and as she reached him, instead of staying where he was, he began to walk again, Y/N following alongside him with still hurried steps as she spoke.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Crane, that was my fault, not Terry’s,” she said as they made their way down the hallway. “I left my key card in the lab, and he was bringing it to me, that’s all.”

“And it took you ten minutes to take a card out of his hand?” Jonathan replied, still keeping his eyes forward. “We have a schedule to keep, Miss Y/L/N.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Swallowing somewhat nervously, Y/N glanced sideways at him. He seemed even more no-nonsense than he usually did, and while she had just defended him to Terry, Jonathan’s aura was admittedly chilly today – she could feel it coming from him, and it was beyond just being clinical. He almost seemed mad that she’d been talking to Terry. But then again, he was never what one would call “warm”, except for the very rare occasions when he’d show Y/N the slightest bit of fondness. Something she’d never seen him reveal to anyone else.

As they continued through the building and made their way to Crane’s office, they discussed some details of the latest trial for the Thiopental, Y/N thumbing through several papers while speaking. As she spoke, Jonathan was only half listening, more so occupied with the anger and jealousy he’d felt upon seeing Y/N with Hall. And even though he knew that Y/N had no interest in the man, that didn’t stop the green monster from peeping its ugly head out. Even the doctor most trained in the reasoning behind mental and emotional responses still couldn’t stop himself from getting jealous, and the fact that he knew Y/N had a loyal devotion to him didn’t make it any less anger-inducing when he saw the way Hall had looked at her. The rat had been trying to pick her up for months, and he just wouldn’t take the hint. Well, it was finally time to hammer home to both Y/N and Hall exactly who she belonged to.

Jonathan was fully aware of the secret interest Y/N had in him. He’d picked up on it almost immediately upon her employment with him. While she was very good at keeping it to herself and maintaining a professional front, Jonathan was an expert at assessing, evaluating, and teasing apart every small mannerism, tone of voice, nervous habit, trail of thought, unspoken implication, and a million other things a person might display. And while she was very work-driven and dedicated, he had still caught every stolen glance, every flush of her cheeks, bite of her lips, and inviting bit of body language from her. She’d unknowingly, unintentionally given herself away months and months ago, and Jonathan hadn’t overlooked one tiny bit of it.

He hadn’t acted upon it, though, and he’d – for the most part – maintained an extremely stoic, clinical demeanor with her; the same he offered the rest of the staff. Only rarely did he allow himself to slip slightly and express a tiny bit of affection towards her.

No; he hadn’t acted upon it — yet. Because he’d decided long ago that when he did act upon it, it would be with the knowledge and the tools to make sure she wouldn’t be able to do anything other than give in to him. She’d be open, helpless, submissive, and melting underneath every touch he gave her. That was exactly how he wanted her. That was how he’d wanted her from the start.

Normally, Jonathan was unaffected by most women. Typically, to him, they were dim, whiny, annoying, faint-hearted things that were inconvenient but ultimately necessary. Most of the women he encountered simply made his life more difficult in some way, and weren’t worth wasting his precious time or intelligence on. Sure, he had needs like any man did, but those were commonly satisfied with minimal talk and a quick fuck with a random stranger he’d meet at some psychology seminar, or an audience member at one of his lectures. He could force the charm in order to have the itch scratched, and then go back to mostly ignoring them.

But Y/N was an exception — an incredibly beautiful, innocent, intelligent, and devoted exception who had taken Jonathan by rare surprise as the first woman he’d met whom he couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard he tried. Beyond her beauty, it was her obvious, sweet innocence and warmth that was a stark contrast to his cold, calculated life. And he couldn’t let her get too friendly with anyone else, because as soon as he’d acknowledged to himself the effect she had on him, he immediately decided she’d be his. She was pure, innocent perfection who was always dying to please him, and no way would he lose this rare gem to some pathetic, average moron. No; she’d be his, and his alone.

His to corrupt, control, and break apart. Never before had the desire and the urge to possess a woman been so strong as it was with Y/N, and he wanted her to fold for him the same way he got each and every one of his patients to fold. Except with Y/N, she’d break down and surrender not from the suppressed memories Jonathan would make her recollect or the trauma she’d work through, but from the way he’d adoringly groom her perfection and desire to please while also calling out each naughty desire and secret thought she assumed he was completely oblivious to, but was, in fact, all too well aware of.

And he knew that that right there was why he was so drawn to her. A gorgeous, innocent woman he could groom and corrupt, who would hang on his every word and be naughty only for him. In Y/N, Jonathan saw the alluring contrasts in her of being so pure, yet also having such lustful, sexual desires. She was sweet yet tempting. A good girl, but with the yearning to be corrupted. It all tapped into his own exact fantasies and desires.

Of course, none of this had ever been voiced by her, but Jonathan had spent the last year analyzing everything about her, and he just knew that Y/N had a yet-to-be-tapped sexuality. He knew she was no virgin, but she also clearly had never let all her inhibitions go. And who better to help her do that than him? And their latest trial project would only help along the way. After all, as brilliant as his methods were, he had no qualms about a little liquid assistance to get her there faster.

As they entered his office, Y/N did as she always did and sat at the computer at his desk. When they were together, Jonathan rarely sat there, instead having Y/N enter information and type up notes of whatever he would dictate to her while he sat in one of the chairs opposite his desk instead. Then she’d leave to hurry off to the lab to complete whatever work he’d assigned for her there, where he’d then check on her progress later on.

“Pull up the results of the latest trial for the Thiopental,” Jonathan told Y/N after she’d situated herself in his desk chair. “I want to compare the males’ reactions versus the females’.”

Obediently, Y/N clicked through a few screens before pulling up the records Crane was asking for. But upon opening the file, Y/N noticed that the total number of participants had been lessened by one. Rather than results from one hundred individuals – fifty males and fifty females – the final line in the female column had been deleted.

“Ummm, Dr. Crane, did the results get edited recently?”

Turning from across the room, Jonathan looked at Y/N as he replied.

“Why do you ask?” he said.

“Well, there are no longer fifty female entries like there were when we first received this data,” Y/N answered him. “There are now only forty-nine.”

Walking over to where Y/N sat, Jonathan stopped beside her and leaned over the desk. Of course, he knew exactly what was going on – he’d deleted the last female entry – but he hovered over Y/N and gently but firmly laid his hand on top of hers as he gripped it and moved the computer mouse with her.

“Let’s have a look,” he said softly beside her.

Y/N’s heart was pounding and her hand was warm beneath his. With him standing this close, she could smell his cologne and feel the heat from his body. It was both unnerving and inviting, and she dared not move as he remained close, although it was taking all her strength not to turn her head into his chest.

Jonathan could sense every nerve in Y/N’s body pulsing. It was the exact reaction he expected from her, and it was clear she was both nervous and aroused. As his eyes darted to her, he could nearly feel the softness of her hair in his fingers as he’d sweep it behind her shoulder and expose her neck. That porcelain skin of hers would have a trail of goosebumps wherever he’d touch her.

After briefly scrolling through the file with her and acting somewhat surprised, Jonathan stood up and pulled back, and then Y/N finally moved again, looking at him questioningly.

“Open my emails; perhaps there’s an explanation from someone in there,” he said to her.

Doing as he said, Y/N opened his emails and quickly found one with the subject line: “Thiopental Participant Withdrawn.” Upon reading it aloud to Crane, Y/N learned that one of the female participant’s results had been discarded due to the discovery that she had consumed alcohol within an hour of her participation. That wasn’t allowed, as they wanted results from people who had no other influencers in their systems at the time of the trial.

“Does this mean the entire study will have to be discarded?” Y/N asked Jonathan after she’d finished reading the email. Little did she know that he’d composed and sent the email to himself.

“No,” Jonathan replied as he looked at her, her beautiful face looking crestfallen. “We’ll just have to collect results from a new female participant within the same parameters of all the others: non-pregnant, non-smoking, without any heart defects or complications, and a system free of any other influencers, approved by their primary physician and conducted in a controlled environment.”

Nodding, Y/N looked down at her watch, noticing that it was already nearly the time most people went home for the day.

“I can ask around the lab tomorrow if any of the female staff would be willing to do it,” she said to him. “I’m sure I can find someone.”

“I’m sure you can,” Jonathan replied then, looking at her with that rare smile that left Y/N feeling both excited and nervous. “You never let me down, Y/N.”

Blushing fiercely with a shy little smile, Y/N could only hold his eyes for a moment before she had to look down. Only on the rarest occasions would he call her “Y/N” instead of “Miss Y/L/N”, and it always had the same effect on her.

“Well, I should get to the lab then and start preparing the vials for the next trial,” she said as she pushed his chair out from the desk and stood up, her face still flushed as she closed his laptop.

“Don’t forget your key card this time,” he said to her with another rare moment of affectionate teasing.

Lifting her eyes to look at him, Y/N once again gave him that shy little smile.

“I won’t.”

•.•.•.•.•

Despite the trial only requiring one hundred vials of the Thiopental, dosing them out was time consuming work. Not only did Y/N need to transfer milliliter after milliliter of the clear liquid into one hundred empty vials with a dropper, but they each then needed to be capped, sealed, labeled and packaged with an accompanying syringe needle.

After three hours of work, she’d finally made it to the last tray of empty vials, and she sat up straighter in her stool to momentarily stretch her back and rotate her neck. She shivered beneath her lab coat, the chilly air of the sterile, empty lab offering little warmth. She was just about to resume her work when she heard the door to the lab open behind her. Turning to look over her shoulder, she saw Dr. Crane walk in, allowing the door to close behind him before he headed her way. What she didn’t realize is that he also ensured it was locked. Despite the fact that it was past 8:00 p.m. at this point, he wanted the guarantee of absolutely no interruptions.

“How’s it coming?” Jonathan asked her as he approached and then came to a stop beside her.

“Nearly finished,” Y/N replied, glancing back down to the vials before looking at Crane again.

“Well, perhaps it’s time for a little break,” he said as their eyes met once more. “I think I’ve come to a solution for our issue with the previous trial that will keep you from having to find a new participant.”

“Oh?” Y/N asked with interest, sitting up straighter in her stool. “How so?”

Looking at her intently, Jonathan spoke again.

“You can do it,” he said.

Furrowing her brow, Y/N shook her head in confusion.

“I can do what? You mean...me be the participant?” she asked in surprise.

“Yes,” Jonathan replied firmly, stepping slightly closer to her.

“But I...” Y/N began. She would never have expected Dr. Crane to suggest her being involved in this way. Wasn’t it some kind of foul for the individuals running the trial to be involved?

“But I’m involved in the study,” she continued then. “I can’t be a participant.”

“This is a study that’s simply tracking effect and reactions,” Jonathan replied, keeping his tone matter-of-fact. “There’s no issue of conflict or biases. We’re simply seeing how your body responds.”

Suddenly, Y/N’s heart began pounding. He was speaking as if he’d already decided she was going to do this, and it had her feeling nervous for some reason. Not unsafe, but just…

“I...I don’t think I should,” Y/N replied. “I mean, when would we even do this?”

“Right now,” Jonathan answered with certainty.

“Right now? But…but who’ll track the results? We have no one else here to record anything.”

Jonathan gave her an amused smile.

“I think I’m more than capable of keeping track of one woman’s responses to a single, one-time use drug, Y/N,” he said to her. “We don’t need anyone else.”

Her heart was still pounding, and she didn’t miss the fact that he used her first name again.

“I don’t have an approval from my primary physician — we have to provide that for them to consider the results valid and prove that it was done safely.”

Jonathan gave her another look.

“I’m a doctor, Y/N. I can properly administer a shot, and I can attest here and now that you are in a safe environment and are a valid participant. That is, unless you’ve suddenly become pregnant, had a pacemaker implanted, or begun smoking since you were last in my office.”

Despite her nerves, Y/N couldn’t help but release a short laugh at Jonathan’s little joke as she looked down at her lap. It was odd to see him suddenly so...casual, but it was also very appealing. Her cheeks rosy, she looked up at him through her lashes.

“No, none of those things,” she said with a shy little smile.

“Then there’s no issue. I’ll administer it to you, observe the effects, and we’ll add the results to the trial. This way, we won’t waste time finding someone else and waiting for their physician’s note.”

“I…” Y/N didn’t know how to respond. She badly wanted to appease Jonathan, but she was also nervous. The idea of being so vulnerable in front of him was nerve-wracking. Granted, he would only be keeping track of things like her pulse, blood pressure, and reflexes, but what if she accidentally said or did something embarrassing?

“You’re perfectly safe with me, Y/N,” Jonathan assured her, his tone soft. He looked in her eyes and he could see the slight uncertainty, but more so the desire to please him. Just like always.

To Y/N’s surprise, Jonathan reached out then and gently laid a hand over hers.

“You know you can trust me, don’t you?”

Looking down at his hand on hers, Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. The mood in the room had changed entirely, and she wasn’t quite sure what was happening. But she knew she could never say no to him.

“Do you trust me?” Jonathan asked as she looked back up at him.

Taking in a deep breath, Y/N pulled herself out of falling into those eyes of his and quietly answered him, her hand still beneath his.

“Yes,” she said.

Slowly smiling, Jonathan squeezed her hand.

“Good girl,” he said.

Y/N blushed fiercely at his words, feeling incredibly nervous but also giddy and pleased at his praise. Again, this was a side of him that had only ever appeared in her private fantasies, and the fact that he was suddenly looking at her the way he was felt almost surreal.

Reaching up behind her on the shelf where the leftover vials of the Thiopental from the first trial sat, Jonathan pulled one down and set it on the lab counter. He then opened the container of supplies kept beneath the shelf and retrieved an alcohol swab and some rubber gloves. Still sitting in her stool, Y/N watched his every move.

Jonathan had her right where he wanted her, and he was even more in tune than usual with every silent signal Y/N was giving off. As he placed the supplies on the counter, he looked at her again.

“Sit up on the counter,” he softly ordered her. “Then your arms will be level with mine.”

Self-consciously, Y/N shifted, trying to be as graceful as possible in the skirt she was wearing. Bracing her palms behind herself on the ledge, she then hoisted herself up from the stool onto the countertop, scooting back slightly as her legs dangled over the edge. She was now at the same level as Jonathan, and she awkwardly cleared her throat as their eyes met again.

“Let’s lift this up, shall we?” Jonathan then said to her as he reached forward for the sleeve of her lab coat and pushed it up to reveal her forearm, folding it behind the bend of her elbow.

Goosebumps immediately appeared where Jonathan’s fingers brushed her skin as he adjusted her sleeve, and Y/N blushed, not looking at him but knowing there was no way he didn’t notice her reaction.

“Will you…I mean…we’re just tracking things like my vitals, right? That’s it?” Y/N asked him quietly as she watched Jonathan put the gloves on.

“Why?” he teased her then as their eyes met again. “Keeping some secrets, are we?”

Blushing again, Y/N couldn’t speak, instead only pursing her lips as she shook her head.

“Don’t worry,” Jonathan said then, “something tells me we’ll get the answers we’re looking for.”

Y/N’s heart pounded again at his words, not even knowing how to respond. She felt the way she always felt around him, both nervous and protected, but it was magnified by about a hundred, and although his words and actions were soft, Y/N still picked up on that hint of intimidation and danger he brought her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she acknowledged the fact that she was squeezing her thighs together beneath her skirt.

He could see her pulse point at her neck jumping, and he spotted the tightening of her muscles as she squeezed her thighs together atop the counter. As he reached over her once more to grab a syringe and needle, he intentionally lingered, and he heard her inhale near his neck as he did, smiling to himself at her response to him.

Donning the rubber gloves, Jonathan then assembled the needle and syringe, then loaded it from the vial, Y/N's eyes on his every move. Setting the prepared syringe down momentarily, he then opened the packet containing the alcohol swab and then removed it, swiftly swiping it across Y/N's skin as she looked down at her arm. Goosebumps appeared again as she felt the cold piece of gauze on her skin.

Quickly disposing of the swab, Jonathan then retrieved the syringe once more, and just before bringing the needle to her skin, he gently grasped Y/N's arm with his free hand and looked at her.

"Ready?" he said, although it wasn't really a question.

Meeting his eyes, Y/N nervously bit her lip, but as she felt Jonathan gently squeeze her arm, she found herself nodding her permission.

Wincing at the sudden sting from the prick of the needle, Y/N briefly squeezed her eyes closed, but forced herself to inhale steadily as she felt the liquid enter her vein. Jonathan lifted his eyes from her arm to her face as he finished pushing the last of the dose through the syringe, and he smiled to himself once more as he knew it was now only a matter of minutes before he'd get everything out of her.

Gently retracting the needle from her arm, Jonathan placed a clean square of gauze over the site on her skin to catch any small bit of blood that may have followed, and Y/N automatically lifted her other hand to hold it there as Jonathan disposed of the syringe.

"Don't be nervous, sweetheart," Jonathan said as he saw Y/N watching him again, her face slightly pale and her nerves clearly affecting her. "You know exactly how all of this works."

Completely taken aback by the unexpected term of endearment, Y/N's heart raced again, and she felt both giddy and hazy. While it was supposed to take several minutes for the drug to reach full effect, she'd had no idea how quickly it would begin taking over her system. She already felt somewhat like she was functioning in slow motion, but with Jonathan's unexpected affection, her heart was still pounding like crazy.

"We'll just give that a minute to take full effect," he said then, very nonchalantly.

Still speechless, Y/N watched as he opened a cabinet off to the side and pulled out a pulse oximeter and electronic blood pressure cuff. Preparing to use each of them, Jonathan then shifted again and stood directly in front of her, and Y/N lifted her head to meet his eyes.

"How do you feel?" he asked her, the clinical tone back in his voice.

It took her a moment before she could respond, the words taking their time to travel from her brain to her lips.

"Slow," she said simply as she looked back at him. "Everything feels slow."

Nodding, Jonathan picked up the items he'd retrieved from the cabinet. He spoke as he placed the oximeter on her finger. Although he had no real intention of tracking any of this, he wanted to give her another minute to absorb everything. After the oximeter beeped with her numbers, he placed the blood pressure cuff on her wrist.

"How about now?" Jonathan lifted his eyes from the display on the cuff to Y/N's gaze. "Your heart's racing. Not common, seeing as this typically causes the opposite effect on heart rate. What's got you so nervous, hmm?"

Y/N felt somewhat cloudy, still fully functional, but once again in almost a slow motion way, as if everything she thought and did took twice as long. After registering his question, she answered Jonathan with the first thing that came to her mind.

"You," she said simply.

Jonathan smiled, giving her a look that only intensified her pulse, and he then reached up and removed his glasses, placing them in the breast pocket of his blazer.

"Me?" he questioned her teasingly. "Do I make you nervous, Y/N?"

"Yes," she answered after a beat, still looking at him. She found that if she tried to turn her head too fast, it made her feel woozy.

"Hmm," said Jonathan, and then he reached down and slowly unstrapped the cuff from her wrist.

Thoughtlessly lowering her arm, Y/N took another deep breath, feeling her pulse in her veins.

"Let's just start with the typical questions," Jonathan said then, and although he'd told her they'd only be monitoring her vitals and outward reactions, Y/N had no ability or desire to stop him from asking her anything.

"Tell me your full name and date of birth," Crane said as he looked at her. After a moment's beat, Y/N responded with the (obviously) correct answers.

"And what's your home address?"

Again, she rattled off the information after a second's pause.

"Now tell me, how long have you worked for me?" Jonathan said then, his tone changing slightly.

"Just over a year," Y/N replied, and then she noticed somewhere in the back of her mind that she was beginning to feel very hot.

"Right. And for how long of that year have you had sexual thoughts about me, Y/N?"

Despite her body heat, Y/N could feel her face suddenly blanching, but as she processed his question, there was only one possible outcome: the truth.

"The entire time," she said, and she felt the blush creep back over her skin as the words left her mouth.

"Are you surprised that I just asked you that question?" Jonathan asked then, that smile of certainty taking over his face again.

"Yes," Y/N answered, her heart skipping a beat as she saw him smile. She was now fully aware that she was powerless to say anything but the truth.

Reaching out to her then, Jonathan gently laid a palm on Y/N's thigh and slowly slid it up her leg, over the fabric of her skirt. Then their eyes met again.

"You thought I didn't know, didn't you?" he affectionately teased her, his voice soft and his gaze intense as he looked at her. Somehow, his entire aura was contradictorily both soothing and intimidating, and Y/N's breath hitched in her throat as he stepped even closer.

Automatically, and feeling somewhat hazy, she spread her legs to allow Jonathan to stand between them, and as he did, he reached up and gently grasped her chin, stroking it with his thumb as he looked down at her. Nervously, Y/N's eyes kept darting between his eyes and his lips, her heart pounding and her body flushed as he spoke again.

"Trust me, sweetheart, I knew. I've known all along."

His affectionate words and his touch once again caused Y/N's heart to race, and she felt both embarrassed and helpless, but also immediately aroused.

"I'm sorry," she heard herself say suddenly, and Jonathan, still grasping her chin, looked at her with that unnerving affection.

"Sorry for what?"

"For thinking about you like that," she said. "I tried not to."

Chuckling, Jonathan released her chin, instead planting each of his palms on top of her thighs.

"You don't have to apologize, sweetheart," he spoke soothingly, giving a small shake of his head. "After all, why apologize for something we both want?"

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, and she felt a dampness forming in her panties as Jonathan squeezed her thighs.

"You're quite the little eye-catcher yourself, Y/N," he responded. "I've spent the last year watching every move you make, every look and unspoken hint. And never before has anyone caught my attention quite like you."

Floored at this admission, Y/N could only say one thing.

"Really?"

Chuckling again, Jonathan leaned in closer to her.

"Isn't that what you were always hoping to hear?" he asked her.

Her eyes quickly darting to his lips, Y/N then responded.

"Yes," she answered him. "I wanted to be perfect for you. I wanted you to want me."

Immediately, Jonathan's cock twitched in his pants at her admission. Despite knowing this information already, nothing beat hearing it come straight from her lips.

"And is that still what you want now?" he pushed her.

She nodded her head.

"Yes."

Smiling again, Jonathan pulled back from her slightly, noting the heat radiating from her body.

"You're burning up," he said as his eyes dropped to the buttons on her lab coat.

"I'm hot," she confirmed mindlessly.

"I can see that," Jonathan replied.

"Is that bad?" she asked, concern momentarily replacing the desirous look on her face.

"It's expected," Jonathan dismissed with a shake of his head. "Your body's trying to compensate for the delayed response signals by sending blood through your system more quickly."

"I'm hot," she repeated dumbly, unable to comprehend enough of what Jonathan had said, as her brain was processing everything slower.

"We can take care of that," Jonathan replied, and he reached up and began undoing the buttons on her lab coat. He intentionally went slowly, savoring the moment of finally undressing her as he'd imagined a million times.

After her coat was open, Jonathan reached up again and slipped his hands underneath the shoulders, slowly pushing it off her and down her arms. Silently, Y/N turned her head and watched as his hands pushed the coat off her body. But instead of stopping there, Jonathan then lifted his hands once more and hovered them over the buttons of her blouse.

"Should we take this off, too?" he asked her — again, less so for permission and more so just to hear her response.

"Yes," she replied, and nodded her head.

As Jonathan worked at the new set of buttons, the porcelain skin of Y/N's chest and the lace of her black bra was gradually revealed, causing Jonathan's cock to stiffen further.

“Have you thought about me undressing you before, Y/N?”

She could feel his cool fingertips grazing her skin as he worked down her chest.

“Yes,” she replied. Her heart was pounding and her nipples stiffening at his question.

“And when you think about that, how does it make you feel?”

Of course, there was still nothing she could do but tell the truth. As badly as her mind wanted to come up with an answer that wouldn't embarrass her, she couldn't form the fib; she could only voice facts.

"Excited," she replied, "but nervous, too. I like to think about it."

"What else do you like to think about?" Jonathan urged her as he undid the last button on her blouse. Y/N's face flushed again as she answered him.

"You kissing me and touching me. I think about having sex with you and what it would be like."

"And do you enjoy those thoughts?" Jonathan placed his palms back on her thighs, her blouse hanging open.

"Yes," she replied.

"Why?"

"Because I like you. You're so handsome and sexy. You make me feel safe but scared at the same time. I like that. I think about what you'll do to me."

"And what do you think I'll do to you? Tell me."

Again, Y/N was helpless to anything but the truth.

"You'll kiss me. Touch me everywhere. I think about your hands on my breasts. Or your lips on me. You'll put your fingers inside me and then your cock. You'll pull my hair or spank me. You'll fuck me and make me come. Then you'll come inside me."

After each mini declaration she made, Jonathan's cock stiffened further. Lifting his hands to her shoulders once more, he slipped under her blouse and pushed it off her, fully revealing inch after inch of her flawless skin, enhanced by the contrast of her feminine, lacy black bra. Her breasts molded perfectly to the cups and he could see her hardened nipples through the material.

"And how about if I tell you to do something? Would you do it?" Jonathan prompted her.

"Yes," Y/N said.

"You want to please me, don't you, Y/N? Make me happy with you? Do anything I say?"

"Yes."

"You just want to be my good little girl, don't you?"

"Yes," Y/N nodded at that, feeling her body flush again. "I want to be yours."

Lifting his hands to her face, Jonathan cradled Y/N's cheeks in his palms and looked in her eyes as he spoke.

"Oh, I want that, too, sweetheart," he said. "And we can make that happen. Would you like me to fuck you right now?"

Y/N nodded again, having a hard time believing this was actually happening. "Yes."

Lowering one hand from her face and moving the other lower, he grasped her chin again and held her eyes as he spoke.

"You're going to be a good girl for me, Y/N. You're going to let me do everything to you that I want. You're going to show me how much you enjoy it. You belong to me now, do you understand that?"

"Yes," Y/N replied, her heart pounding at Jonathan's words. Unintentionally, she slightly arched her back, subtly pushing her chest out towards him.

Jonathan smiled again.

"So eager," he cooed. "You've been mine all along, haven't you?"

"Yes; always," Y/N said.

At that, Jonathan lifted his hands once more and reached behind her, making quick work of opening her bra clasp. As the garment loosened around her, he traced his fingers up her arms and hooked them under her straps, hesitating for a moment as he savored her reaction.

"Shall we take this off?" he teased her.

"Yes," she answered quickly, her voice sounding desperate. "Please!"

Jonathan shook his head with another smile.

"Always so well-mannered. My good girl."

Pulling the bra from her chest, Jonathan dropped it to the floor and his eyes were glued to her breasts. They were plump, pert perfection, her nipples hardened from equally both arousal and the chill of the cold, sterile laboratory.

"Do you want my hands on you, Y/N?" he asked her, his palms already only centimeters away from touching her.

"Yes," she nodded fervently.

Immediately, Jonathan cupped her breasts, squeezing her flesh as it filled his hands and stroking her eager nipples with his thumbs. With every swipe along her buds, Y/N released a tiny gasp, arching into his touch.

"You like that, don't you?" Jonathan asked her as he lifted his eyes to hers. He could feel his cock straining against his pants as he watched her arch into him again.

"Yes," she replied. "I don't want you to stop."

Jonathan shook his head.

"Oh, we're not stopping until I have you coming, sweetheart," he said to her soothingly. "That's what you want, isn't it? For me to make you come?"

"Yes," she replied, and she squeezed her thighs together again.

"Then let's make that happen."

His hands still on her breasts, Jonathan leaned forward and pressed his lips to Y/N's, her eyes fluttering closed as he came closer. As soon as his lips came in contact with hers, she released an audible sigh with a little whimper, and when Jonathan stroked her nipples again as their lips moved together, she leaned into him even more.

He started off gentle, but soon, Jonathan was kissing her with more aggression, the sounds of her desirous desperation and her needy reaction spurring him on. After a moment, he felt her squirming beneath him, and he pulled back to look at her.

"What is it?" he asked her.

"I..." Y/N blushed again. "I want to touch you."

Jonathan smiled.

"Then touch me," he said, then leaned in again and connected their lips once more.

Whimpering again, Y/N lifted hers arms to Jonathan's neck, wrapping them around his shoulders as she scooted closer to him. Her bare breasts rubbed against the scratchy fabric of his blazer, and as she leaned into him, Jonathan lowered his hands to her hips and pulled her to the edge of the counter. Her fingers hovering over the nape of his neck, she suddenly tangled them in his hair and tugged in surprise as she felt Jonathan squeeze her hips.

Pulling away from her once more, Jonathan grabbed the fabric of her skirt and slowly began pushing it up her thighs, watching her every reaction as he did so.

"Let's see just how excited you are," he said. He then pushed her skirt the final inches to bunch it up around her hips, revealing her smooth thighs and the black panties clothing her pretty little mound.

"Spread your legs for me, sweetheart," Jonathan ordered her, and she obediently responded, parting her thighs fully to reveal herself. The subtle yet obvious patch where her arousal had temporarily stained the fabric of her panties darker immediately causing another smirk to cross Jonathan's face.

"So wet, aren't you?" he affectionately teased her. "So wet and so ready." He hovered his fingers over her. "Do you want my fingers, Y/N?"

Her breath hitched slightly before she answered.

"Yes," she said in a breathy reply. "I want them inside me."

Slowly, Jonathan skimmed his fingertips over the fabric of her panties, eliciting a whimper and a thrust of her hips as Y/N felt him touch her. He then lifted his fingers to the hem of her panties and hooked them inside. Instinctively, Y/N briefly lifted herself off the counter to allow him to remove them, but then her mind was completely blank when she suddenly felt Jonathan's fingers delve inside her dripping folds.

"Ohhhhh," she moaned, and her hips thrusted again as Jonathan curled his fingers inside her, the lewd sounds of her wetness accenting the air as he began pumping his fingers in and out of her.

Her pussy was soft, pink perfection, and Jonathan curled his fingers again as she moaned over and over.

"You're not just wet; you're soaking," he said to her, his cock now rock hard as he watched his fingers moving in and out of her. Whining again, Y/N grasped the edge of the counter with her hands and slightly leaned back, pushing her lower half closer to Jonathan, seeking more of his touch.

"Such a needy girl, aren't you?" Jonathan said. "You want more, don't you?"

"Yes," she nodded, her face twisting in pleasure as Jonathan pumped his fingers faster. "More." She was panting now.

"Wait until my cock is inside you, sweetheart; you'll take it so well. You're going to let me fuck you, aren't you?"

"Yes," Y/N answered, her pussy clamping around his fingers. When Jonathan curled them inside her once more and moved his index finger back and forth, an embarrassingly loud moan escaped her, the pleasure incredible as he hit that spot inside her.

"Tonight, I'll take you right here, but next time, you'll be bent over my desk," Jonathan said to her as he withdrew his fingers from inside her and swiped his thumb over her clit instead, eliciting another loud moan from her. "This pussy is mine now, to take whenever and wherever I want. Do you understand me, Y/N?"

"Yes!" she cried out desperately as he swiped her clit again. Her head was still slightly foggy, and Jonathan's words had her ready to do anything he said. Her heart was racing as she met his eyes.

"You pretend to be so proper, but you're a naughty girl," Jonathan said. "I've known it all along, and we're finally going to see just how naughty you can be. Tonight, we'll take it easy, but next time, we'll see how far we can push you. I think you'll like that, won't you, sweetheart?"

"Yes!" Y/N cried again, Jonathan's thumb repeatedly circling her clit having her eyes practically rolling to the back of her head.

"You sound like a broken record, you know that?" Jonathan said then. "So pathetic." He ceased his ministrations then, and at the loss of his touch, Y/N was practically crying.

"Jonathan..." she breathed out in need, feeling so delirious that she didn't even realize she'd said his first name, which she'd never done before. "Jonathan, please!"

At the sound of his name falling from her mouth in that desperate, whiny voice, Jonathan was moving his hands to his belt, unfastening it and opening his pants, the clinking sound of the buckle sounding louder than it actually was in the otherwise empty lab. He then reached out and grasped Y/N's wrist, pulling her hand to his briefs and slipping her hand inside, guiding her to palm his bulging cock.

"Please, what?" he said as he held her hand in place. "Is this what you want, Y/N? Do you want my cock?"

"Yes!"

"Where do you want it, sweetheart? Tell me."

"I want it inside me. I want to feel you fill me."

Feeling the heat of Jonathan's stiff cock, all she could think about was having him fuck her, and she knew that she would forever do whatever he told her as long as she could feel him inside her.

"Oh, I'm going to fill you, alright," Jonathan replied then, roughly pulling her closer again and hovering his mouth over hers as he spoke. "I'm going to fuck you, over and over again. You're going to take everything I give you, do anything I tell you to, and you're going to be my good little girl. Always."

Jonathan caught the obedient little nod Y/N gave just before he connected their lips again, and as he did, he raised a hand to grasp one of her breasts again, massaging her and pinching her nipple before doing the same to her other breast, and then moving his mouth to her neck, sucking her flesh and following it with a soft kiss.

"Jonathan..." she breathed again.

"Are you ready for my cock, sweetheart?" he said to her. "I think you are."

"Yes!" she said again for what felt like the hundredth time that night, and Y/N felt her wetness nearly ready to drip from her folds as she heard Jonathan draw himself out of his briefs. But her weeping pussy was then immediately met with the feel of his hot tip prodding her entrance, and she whimpered again.

"You're so ready," she heard Jonathan say, and then she was suddenly momentarily thoughtless from the insane pleasure of his cock slamming inside her.

"Ahhhhhh!" she cried out, feeling like she was being split in two as Jonathan's hips became flush with her inner thighs. She desperately reached up and grasped the lapels of his blazer, the stars in her vision slowly disappearing as she continued to adjust to the feeling of him inside her.

"Ohhh, fuck, sweetheart," Jonathan groaned as he felt her walls clamp needily around his shaft. She milked him without even trying, and he immediately began thrusting in and out of her, unable to go slow any longer.

"Oh, God!" Y/N panted as she gripped his jacket tighter, instinctively wrapping her legs around Jonathan's waist as he began to move in and out of her. She clamped around him with each thrust, and she felt his fingers digging into her hips as she began to meet each of his thrusts with a rutting of her hips.

"That's my girl," Jonathan said roughly as he continued to fuck her. "You're taking me so well."

Her chest was heaving, and Jonathan was having a hard time deciding where to focus his eyes — on her beautiful breasts bouncing with each thrust, on her plump, parted lips as she gasped again and again, or on the sight of his thick cock slamming in and out of her drenched pussy. But he relished in knowing that he'd now have countless opportunities to see each of these delicious sights again and again. He'd fuck her silly before he'd ever have enough.

In the future, Jonathan would draw everything out, make her squirm, whine, and downright beg for release. But tonight, he'd make it easy on her, to show her just how good he could make her feel...if she earned it.

Returning his thumb to her clit, he again stroked her over and over, and as he watched her face beautifully contort in pleasure again, he grabbed a fistful of her hair with his free hand, tugging it roughly enough to force her to look at him, her eyes widening in surprise and mild pain as his pull on her strands stung her scalp, causing her to whimper again.

"Do you want me to make you come, Y/N?" Jonathan asked her as she met his eyes.

"Yes! Please!" She thrusted her own hips into his once more, seeking what he was offering her. "And...and..." she couldn't think anymore.

"What?"Jonathan asked her. "Say it, Y/N."

She clamped around him again.

"And I want you to come inside me."

Jonathan gave her a devilish smile.

"Oh, sweetheart, that was happening whether you asked or not," he replied. "You're going to take every last drop from me."

Her heart racing, Y/N nodded obediently once more, and with a final, sloppy kiss between them, Jonathan then resumed his previous pace, fucking her hard and fast as he alternated between stroking her clit and pinching her nipples.

With every touch and thrust, Y/N could feel herself unravelling more and more, and she reached up and desperately gripped Jonathan's shoulders as she felt herself nearing the edge.

"I...I...Jonathan, I..."

"Are you close, sweetheart?" he urged her.

"Yes," she panted.

Jonathan once more pulled her closer, his hands on her hips like a death grip as he prepared to bring her over the edge and finish inside her.

"You're going to come now, Y/N," he commanded her.

In a final push of thrusts and strokes, Jonathan had her mewling in desperation, and when he lowered his mouth to her neck and nipped her skin as he thumbed her a final time, he felt her suddenly clamp around him with insane tightness as a high-pitched squeal escaped her and her body tensed.

Her eyes squeezing shut and her heart pounding in her ears, Y/N was once again thoughtless, only registering her reactions and responses to how Jonathan fucked her with intention, and when he commanded her in that voice and bit at her neck, she was gone. As his thumb stroked her a final time through her wetness, she came with an uncontrollable squeal, gripping his shoulders so tightly that her knuckles were white against the fabric of his jacket.

Hearing her desperately pleasured whine, Jonathan let himself go, pounding into her with determination until he himself was coming, releasing inside her with rope after rope of cum, imagining each bit of his release painting her walls and marking his territory as he finished inside her, hearing her still panting against him as he groaned deeply.

Eventually, the sounds between them lessened, and finally, Jonathan pulled himself out of her as Y/N's hands slipped from his shoulders, whimpering a final time as she felt him leave her body. After tucking himself back inside his briefs, Jonathan fastened his pants again and re-buckled his belt before looking up at Y/N, who still sat on the counter before him, slightly shivering with her naked chest still exposed and her legs still spread, her bare pussy leaking with his cum.

When Y/N lifted her eyes to meet his, Jonathan reached up and stroked her cheek before he spoke again.

"It shouldn't be long now before the effects fully wear off," he said, reaching for her lab coat on the counter, picking it up and encouraging her to slip her arms through the sleeves as he helped her put it back on, never minding about her discarded bra or blouse. He buttoned it for her before then lowering his fingers to her pussy and pushing his escaping cum back inside her. Y/N's thighs quivered as his fingers briefly entered her again.

"Once you're feeling back to normal, I want you to go home," he continued softly. "Don't wash yourself until the morning. Then I want you to come straight to my office tomorrow, and I want you wearing nothing but that lab coat. Do you understand?"

Pressing her thighs together, Y/N silently nodded, her heart still pounding.

"Good girl," Jonathan said, and he stroked her cheek one more time before leaning closer once more.

"You'll always be my good girl, won't you?" he said to her, already knowing her response.

"Yes," Y/N breathed out, nodding slowly. "Always."

With a satisfied nod, Jonathan leaned forward a final time, placing a soft kiss on Y/N's lips before backing away. Then he turned and walked out of the lab, Y/N looking after him as she slowly began to feel like herself again, but with a renewed desirous anticipation, wondering just exactly what Jonathan had in mind for her next.

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[chelseasdagger]

Teacher - Chapter II

Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!reader

Summary: You get invited to Frank's apartment again days after he gave you your first kiss. After a long makeout session, you rush to get to the bonfire and enjoy a night with your group of friends and even more of Frank's company

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), cursing, drinking, dry humping, brief mentions of masturbation

Author's Note: It's finally here! I'm SO so sorry for the wait on this chapter! I've been working full time at my part time job and it's been crazy busy!! Thank you for being patient :) Oh! We have a taglist now, so if you want to be added, just let me know! As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!

Word Count: 6.6k+

Previous Chapters: I

Ever since that afternoon when Frank gave you your first kiss, it’s all that’s consumed your mind. It’s been difficult to focus your attention anywhere that isn’t the image of his puffy lips, swollen from your kisses, that has been ingrained in your head. You’ve been spacing out more often—even softly tracing your lower lip with your finger to try and relive the memory of his tongue brushing your skin.

You’ve even let your mind wander off its leash at work. Your coworker rips you from your thoughts by calling your name and you look up with wide eyes. She smirks when she sees your frazzled expression and asks what’s on your mind. You flip through excuses in your brain before stumbling out an “It’s a good day?”

Your voice twists into a question at the end, obvious that even you weren’t sold on your words. She shoots a skeptical look your way before walking away from the front desk, leaving you to sit once again in your thoughts about Frank. Beams of sunlight pour through the glass windows at the front of the building and the heat on your face reminds you of his warm touch. You let your eyes close for a moment and you swear you can feel his long fingers curling behind your jaw.

Suddenly, a chime sounds out and your eyes shoot open, quickly facing the front door as you expect to be met with a client’s face. There’s not a single person in sight though, and you glance down at your phone and see its illuminated screen. There’s an alert on the display and as you pick it up to unlock it, you notice it’s from your close friend.

“I’m picking you up at 6 right?”

Your eyebrows pull together, trying to remember the topic of the conversation that she’s starting back up again. As your eyes scan the earlier messages on the screen, it clicks for you. The bonfire.

Every few weeks your friend group makes plans to go out and do something fun together. With busy lives and conflicting schedules, not to mention the range of ages, it’s not always easy to reconnect and make time to be with each other. But months ago there was a collective agreement to make the effort of seeing one another more often than not. It was something you loved, being able to be in the good company of everyone you cared for.

Admittedly, your favorite part of the group hangout was watching as the rest of them enjoyed themselves. Smiles thrown on their faces, laughter roaring out when someone cracks a joke, even comfortable silences—it brought you so much joy to witness. However, due to your more reserved nature and how you passed on drinking each time, you felt more like a bystander; always watching them let loose and wishing you could do the same.

“Yes pleaseee”, your thumbs press on the glass, typing out the message on the digital keys. As you hit the arrow to send the text, another message shows as a banner across the top of the screen.

“You wanna come over?”

It’s from Frank this time. Sinking your teeth into your lip in an attempt to stall your smile, you glance at the clock on the wall. Unfortunately, no amount of wishing makes the thin, red hand pass the black numbers any faster. With a quiet sigh, you begin to type another text.

“I get off in an hour. You’re still going to the bonfire tonight right?”

You anxiously tap your finger along the side of your phone, watching the little bubbles move as an indicator that he’s typing. Frank was the main reason you went to these monthly bonfires, and the idea of him not showing is certainly enough to make you consider twice about going.

“Yeah. Just wanted to see you before then.”

As if right on cue, your heartbeat speeds up when your eyes scan across his words. You don’t even try to fight the grin that grows on your face this time. It’s only been a few days since you last saw him, since your last kiss, but you’ve been texting him each day in between. The conversations have always been light, slightly flirty on his end, but you’re thankful Frank never pressures you to do anything.

Oftentimes you find yourself still in disbelief at how this all happened. Frank’s incredibly patient with you and has reassured you many times that this is all your choice. Hell, he hasn’t even asked for you to come over again until just now. Maybe he was trying to keep the distance to not overwhelm you?

But he does want to see me, the giddy, although nagging, little voice in your head reminds you. Rolling your eyes at your own thoughts, you sigh gently before texting him that you’ll drive over to his apartment after you get off. He replies back almost instantly.

“Can’t wait.”

You force yourself to drop your phone and not reread his message multiple times. It wasn’t a habit you normally had, but it became ever so prevalent with his messages. You pictured what other thoughts could be behind his often short texts and that wasn’t particularly helpful while you’re still on the clock.

The minutes felt like centuries as you sat at the desk. No amount of phone calls from curious customers or coworker gossip could act as a catalyst and make the time pass faster. You almost feel bad for being mentally checked out, but with something as good as this planned after you left, you really couldn’t help it. With your chin in your hand as you barely hold yourself up, you take one last hesitant glance at the clock. Two minutes left.

The second the time flips to the nearest hour, you’re clocking out; you’re thankful it was a slow day and you could leave right on time. With a shout over your shoulder and a wave goodbye to your coworker, you walk out the door and straight to your car. You don’t even put the GPS on–you have the way to his house memorized after the last time–and put on your favorite playlist to get yourself excited once again to see him.

Thankfully, the traffic isn’t too bad and it’s not long before you’re making the first turn into the neighborhood. You turn on each familiar street, winding the curves before you spot the black van with an empty parking space beside it once again. There’s no anxiety this time as you put the car in park, just excitement bubbling up and making your chest grow warm. You’re quick to grab your bag and rush up to the wooden door as you lock the car behind you.

You raise your hand and swiftly knock an upbeat tune on the door. It opens only a few seconds later, and there’s a strong arm winding around you as it pulls you past the door frame. A surprised yelp escapes you and his raspy voice sounds out with an apology.

“Sorry, kid, didn’t mean to scare ya.” He closes the door behind you before walking towards the couch. The room’s not quite as spotless as it was last time but it honestly makes it feel more cozy seeing as it’s been lived in. He motions for you to follow him to sit down and this time you make sure to sit right beside him.

He asks about your day and the two of you begin a light conversation. It feels like he really listens to you; he’s nodding his head as you speak, leaning slightly towards you, and for once you feel like you’re being truly heard. After some back and forth, Frank begins to talk more as something you say sparks up a memory in his mind. He’s excited to tell you, obvious from how he sits up with a wide smile, and you listen to him as he gives you some background information that’s necessary to understand the story.

If you’re honest, you’re not really sure you’re keeping up with the whole picture he’s trying to paint you. You couldn’t really help it, memories of the only other time you were here beginning to rush through your brain. His laughter sounds out, breaking your concentration of the memory, and you try your hardest to focus back on him. Frank’s so animated when he talks: his hands moving in front of him, his facial features physically showing how he felt, and let’s not forget the voices of his friends that he puts on to get a smile out of you.

But eventually his words continue to drone on and on and you’re beginning to lose interest. It's no fault of his own, you just can’t focus on anything other than his mouth. The meaning of his words dissipate until they’re simply just noise to fill the background. Your eyes never leave his lips, watching as they curl around the words or stretch into a smile as he laughs. Before you can even think through the consequences of your actions, you lean forward and place a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

His words stop abruptly and you watch as he turns his head to face you. There’s a short pause before he’s got his arms wrapped around you, immediately pulling you into his lap. You settle on your knees, straddling his thighs, and he tugs you even closer until you’re sitting right between his legs.

“Did you hear anything I was saying?” he asks, tilting his head as he stares up into your eyes. His gaze is too intense and you find yourself focusing on his lips instead. “You hear a single word or… did some kind of switch flip just then?” He squints his eyes as he asks, his tongue brushing over his lips.

“I just… I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” you confess in a small voice.

“That is just the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. You know that?” And queue the heat rushing to your cheeks. “Got any idea how sweet you sound?”

“Frank, c’mon,” you whisper, growing tired of his teasing.

“What, sweetheart? You wanna say somethin’ like that and not expect me to talk about it?” Again, you wish he would just shut up and kiss you already. “I’ve been on your mind that much? Must’ve been a damn good kiss for you to think about it days later, huh? Did you miss—”

You cut him off once more with your lips, your hands cradling his cheeks as you kiss him. You can’t even believe you did it, you never thought yourself the one to make the first move. Being desperate for his kisses is enough for the final push, you guess. His hands are quick to find your hips and you shiver at the touch, cursing yourself for being so sensitive. He pulls away when he feels your body’s reaction but never takes his hands off of you.

“That okay?” he asks, his eyes glancing up into yours. He gives another swift squeeze into your side before questioning with another “hmm?” You nod quickly, still reeling from the feel of him touching you there. Frank only tilts his head, silently requesting more from you.

“Y-Yes,” you stutter out, and he mutters the quietest, “Okay,” you’ve ever heard. His hand that’s wrapped around your hip begins to push you back and you’re quick to move with his movements. It’s a gentle push that has your ass grinding down onto the center of his jeans and you quickly grab hold of his shoulder to keep your balance.

“You okay?” he asks through a light chuckle. You nod and hum an agreement as you focus back on his warm touch that’s setting a fire alight on your side. He pulls you closer now and begins rocking you back and forth on his lap. The heat begins to travel down your tummy and nestles between your thighs.

Suddenly, Frank’s mouth is on your neck again and you almost feel lightheaded with how your body is trying to take in so much of him at once. He drags his kisses down your jaw, his hand never stopping the gentle pull and push of your hips. As you keep rocking on him, you swear you feel something bumping into you on each push down but you’re not very certain of anything at the moment.

His unoccupied hand smoothes up your side and his big palm grabs at your chest. A small moan gets stuck in your throat, resulting in a quiet whimper, as his long fingers squeeze into your soft skin. You break the kiss, your arms crossing each other as you reach for the hem of your shirt but his hands tenderly grab your wrists.

“You don’t have to…” he breathes shallowly, his breath fanning across your lips. His gaze locks with yours before he swallows thickly. He closes his eyes as he continues, “I’m sorry. I-I just got caught up in it.” You smile at the hesitancy in his voice and brush your thumb along his jaw.

“It’s okay, Frank, I wanna,” you reassure him. He loosens his hold, allowing you to continue your movements and pull your top off. His eyes move up with each new inch of skin that gets exposed and there’s this look in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. Once your head is clear of the fabric, you drop it onto the empty couch cushion beside you before moving to cup his cheeks in your smaller hands.

His lips are parted as he stares unabashedly at your chest. Brushing your thumb over the light stubble, you watch as he takes you in for the first time. Part of you is somewhat worried about his reaction, but his kisses were enough to leave your head clouded for long enough to push the anxiety away.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” is all he mutters before his hand pushes through your hair and he cups the back of your head. He pulls you into another kiss, his tongue wasting no time as it glides along yours. You moan against him sweetly as he lightly pulls on the strands. The sound must’ve spurred him on though, because he squeezes you over your bra once more. His insatiable fingers continue and your chest threatens to spill over the fabric cups.

You bring your hand over his and he immediately lets go of you. You shake your head with a grin, letting him know he didn’t cross any lines. Rather, you press on his fingers and make him hold you even tighter. He sighs into the kiss and digs harder into your smooth skin. Wanting to mimic him and clutch onto as much of him as possible, you push your palms flat to his chest and work them up towards his neck. You don’t even register the way you’re tugging at the neckline of his shirt until your thoughts slip and you mumble something against his lips.

“What was that?” Frank asks as he trails a finger down your cheek.

“Can… Can you take yours off too, please?” Your words come out as a whisper, your nerves acting up at the idea of asking that of him. He only smirks up at you before adjusting himself to sit up more against the couch.

“Guess that’s only fair, huh?” You watch as his hands come to the back of his neck, arms flexing as he pulls the shirt over his head and haphazardly drops it beside yours. When you see him shirtless for the first time, you’re pretty sure any thought you had–and ever will have–leaves your mind. Thick muscle wrapped in tan skin, broad shoulders that you’re certain would engulf you whole, and dark hair lining the skin under his belly button that trails below the waistband of his jeans.

“You alright there, kid?” he questions through a raspy chuckle. You hesitantly reach a hand out and lightly rest it over his heart. His chest is big and he fills your palm as his heart beats against your skin. You force your eyes to focus on his face again and he meets you with a confident smirk.

“You still with me?” His words are laced with a cocky tone and you don’t even give him the satisfaction of shrinking down again. Instead, you lean forward and wrap your fingers around his neck before kissing him harder than you ever have before. He grunts against your lips, his own hips bucking up as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

His hand wraps around to hold your lower back as he continues guiding your movements. With each roll of your hips into his lap, you feel his bulge against you. A wet gasp escapes you when you bump your clit on one particularly hard grind against him.

He feels harder underneath you each time you move, and it dawns on you what it actually means. He’s getting hard? Over me? The ever present voice sounds out again, words soaked in disbelief. Feeling more confident, you begin to buck your hips on your own as you grind faster against him. 

“Attagirl,” he praises, the kiss breaking once again due to his wide smile. He encourages your movements with one little word and his hand stops the push and pull, letting you move independently from him. He grazes his long fingers up your thighs before curling around, sliding his palms higher, and holding your ass in his big hands. Frank tilts his head to the side as he deepens the kiss and you feel the stubble scratching you, causing your hips to speed up of their own accord.

His bulge between your legs is warm–and admittedly thicker than you expected–which does nothing to help the burning at the pit of your stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before and Frank’s lips begin to wander, trailing down your neck. His teeth graze along your collarbone and your hands find their way to his hair. Brushing through the strands with a gentle pull at the ends, you push yourself harder into his lap.

He grunts before pressing his tongue flat to your skin, slowly licking his way up your throat and back to your lips. A curse slips from you and you shudder when you feel the cool air hit the wet patch he left behind. Cupping your cheeks in his large palms, he traces his tongue over your bottom lip before sinking his teeth into the soft skin. You whimper louder than you mean to, the sound causing Frank to tilt his head down and break the kiss. His forehead rests against yours as he pants gently, regaining his breath.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers, dragging the tip of his nose down the bridge of your own. You giggle at his exasperated tone from the makeout session and rub your hands down his neck to his shoulder blades. The muscle is noticeable despite him not flexing and your mind starts down a path that you’re certain would do no good right now. Images begin to flash through your mind: Frank on top of you, your nails scratching down his back, his fingers tightening around a headboard. You give yourself a mental shake and bring yourself back to the present.

“What time is it?” you ask softly. Frank raises his arm up, checking the little display of his watch. Once you catch a glimpse of the digital numbers, you perk up as your eyes go wide.

“Shit, I gotta go,” Frank looks up at you confusedly as you speak. “The bonfire…” you trail off, hoping to jog his memory.

“What? No, you just got here, c’mon,” he groans. His arms wrap around your back and he tightens his hold while resting his head against your chest. With a wide smile, you brush your palms against the short hair at the back of his head.

“Frank, I’ve been here almost an hour,” you explain through a chuckle. He hesitantly looks up at you, his eyebrows pulled together and confusion clearly written all over his face.

“Really? I didn’t even notice…”

“Spent all that time when I first got here just talking. It’s your fault!” You tease him and his features soften.

“Well how was I supposed to know I had all this waiting for me if I shut up?” He pulls you snuggly towards his body and you feel the heat coming back to your cheeks. You shake your head when he drapes your arm back around his neck, his charm threatening to work on you once again.

“I gotta get ready,” you explain but make absolutely no attempt to leave your spot on his lap.

“Do you have to? You look great just like this,” his fingers idly move up and down your thighs. You find his little touches comforting and the butterflies flutter to life at his soft spoken compliment.

“My hair is a complete mess, thanks to you,” you scoff, “and I need to change.” You’re still in your outfit from work and want to wear something more comfortable, and warm, for tonight’s get together. Frank pouts as you speak but begrudgingly lets go of you, his hand keeping a hold of yours as you stand. You reach for your shirt and quickly pull it back on over your head and there’s a great, big sigh coming from him once your chest is covered.

Rolling your eyes at his theatrics, you run a hand through your hair in an attempt to look halfway decent. Turning to say one last thing before you leave, there’s a sight that makes your eyes widen as a chill rushes through you. Your hands clasp together over your mouth as you gasp, embarrassment settling in. Frank looks up cluessely at you, until he follows your gaze to his lap.

There’s a damp spot on his jeans, almost unnoticeable against the dark denim, but it’s clear what it is nonetheless.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t think I’d—I’m sorry,” you swallow thickly, trying to find anything to say to fill the silence. He’s hardly moved since he first glared down at the stain on his pants; his chest heaving and jaw clenching as he takes in the sight in front of him. The air is so thick you think for half a second you might actually choke on it. The next thing you see is the bulge in his jeans twitching to the side faintly.

You feel as though you might double over and grab your stomach for balance. “Frank?” you ask gently, but he continues to breathe roughly. You can’t even possibly begin to decipher what’s going on inside his head.

“Don’t ever gotta apologize for that,” he finally speaks up. His voice is gravelly and his jaw is clenched. He takes a long inhale and you can see him physically shake off the tension. “But yeah, you… You should probably change.” His normal cocky smirk is back in place and you smile, relieved.

Leaning over him, you press a brisk kiss to his cheek as a goodbye. You mutter one last apology against his skin before slipping out the door and shouting a farewell over your shoulder.

The entire car ride home you feel your skin buzzing. You’ve never felt so giddy in your life and you’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to keep this excitement to yourself. Part of you wants to scream out from the rooftops just to let the energy out but you also haven’t exactly talked with Frank about if this is something to share outside the two of you.

The ride home is a total blur and before you know it you’re pulling into your spot at your apartment. Dropping your bag by the door, you make your way straight to the bathroom. After accessing the damage that Frank left with his greedy touch, you quickly begin to try and make yourself look slightly presentable.

Surprisingly, you’re almost ready when your friend sends the message to inform you that she’s arrived at your place. All you’re missing is socks, shoes, and jacket, which by your standards, is pretty good. You brush your fingers through your hair one more time, trying to get it to lie a bit neater. With one last glance over in the mirror, you shrug and decide it’s good enough given the time crunch.

Shoving your shoes on and rushing out the door with your jacket folded over your arm, you reach her car door and climb in. She begins to drive down the street, turning down familiar roads to the place where you usually gather for this sort of thing. She fills the car ride with her stories all about her day, her rude coworker, and the new guy she’s seeing. You nearly speak up when she gets to that last topic of conversation. It would be nice to finally be able to relate to something, but you know that what you and Frank have isn’t even serious. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you bite your tongue and keep quiet.

The sound of gravel crunching under the tires reaches your ears and you perk up when you realize you’re finally here. After closing the car door and walking up to the fire pit, you notice your other friends already gathered around it. They greet the two of you kindly and pull you into hugs. You smile through the welcoming and scan their faces to check for Frank, but he’s not there.

Minutes pass and you find yourself pulling your phone out of your pocket to check the time every now and then. You watch as the sunset sinks below the horizon. It paints the sky a dusty orange before mixing and settling into soft pastel streaks of light. You’ve been here over half an hour and still there’s no sign of him. You get the courage to speak up and ask about him.

“Is Frank coming? I know he’s not usually on time but…” There’s a small chuckle sounding out from someone already a few drinks in.

“He texted me saying he forgot it was tonight. Should be here soon,” one of Frank’s closer friends, Curtis, replies to you. That’s weird, you think as you pout and wrap your arms around yourself. You wonder why he gave that excuse and what must’ve come up to deter him from getting here. It does little use, but you try to shake off the worry and focus on being in the company of the people you love.

You’re laughing loudly at a joke when you hear some light cheers and quickly turn around at the sound. Frank’s walking up slowly, shaking his head as the small group rags on him for being late. He scoffs, scratching at the back of his neck before being pulled into a few hugs by his friends. You’d give anything to rush over and pull him into an embrace as well, but you decide to not just run with your emotions.

Once Frank is sitting back in an old lawn chair and everyone is officially accounted for, Curtis lights the fire. It’s tradition to wait until everybody is together before setting the wood alight. There’s a moment of quiet crackling but before long the flames are roaring to life. You’re the first to walk up to it, stretching your arms out and melting at the warmth enveloping you when suddenly, there’s a nagging feeling in your head and you look over your shoulder to satisfy the small itch.

Frank’s eyes are glaring into your side, his expression hard and difficult to pinpoint. He’s holding his chin up in his hand and his eyes slowly begin to rake down your frame before shooting back up to your face. The lights and shadows from the flames dance across his features and you swear you notice his nose scrunch up for a second when his teeth sink into his lower lip.

A shiver runs down your neck and it’s not born from excitement like before. He looks absolutely pissed and you force yourself to look back at the charred wood. It could have absolutely nothing to do with you, you try to reason with yourself. But you’ve always been one to look for a flaw in yourself when someone’s upset, and no amount of logic can take away that instinct reaction.

The only thing you can think of is the mess you unintentionally left on him. He seemed okay when you left, but maybe that really bothered him. Whatever it was, he was definitely more cold than he was just hours ago and you wish he’d stop staring and talk to you already.

You plaster on a fake smile when your friend asks what’s wrong and insist that you’re fine. You mutter some excuse about the air being chilly and she finds a spare blanket to wrap you up in. When you steal a glance at Frank, you notice him acting in complete opposite of how he was moments before. He’s back to all smiles, holding his chest as he throws his head back laughing. You feel some of your own tension leaving at the sound of his cackling but you can’t help but wonder why that cold gaze was directed towards you.

The sky eventually begins to settle into the comforting deep blue and the fire shows no signs of dying out. You notice the cooler of beer sitting open and decide to walk over and grab one. Glancing down at the label, you notice it’s not the one Frank introduced you to. With a mental shrug you crack it open and toss it back without thinking. The flavor hits your tongue and it surprises you how much smoother it is than your first drink.

You get lost in the overlapping chatter of conversations and begin drinking more now that you’ve found a taste that’s enjoyable. The time passes and you slowly feel yourself relaxing more as the weight of the bottle in your hand gets lighter. It’s not enough to make you feel without control of your actions, but it definitely is enough to give you a buzz.

Eventually the chill of the night breeze picks up, and you begin to notice some people cuddling up to their partners. A few cuddle on a picnic blanket lying on the ground, some sit in each other’s laps. Regardless, you feel that uneasy sensation of being a spectator rising up again. You fidget with the bottle in your hand as you try and not compare yourself to the other couples when the sound of someone clearing their throat makes you look up.

Frank is sitting in his chair like before but this time his legs are spread wide apart. You lock eyes with him and he glances at his lap before looking back to your face. He runs a large hand down the length of his thigh, smoothing the fabric of his jeans, and it seems as though he’s presenting you a seat. You swallow thickly and make your way over to him, standing right at his knees.

“C’mon, it’s too cold,” he mumbles under the background noise of layered voices. You nod as he takes your hand, leading you to sit down on his legs. He’s quickly adjusting the blanket and draping it back over your shoulders before pulling your side into his chest. Your head aligns perfectly in the crevice of his collarbone and his body heat completely engulfs you. To say you’re happy you get to be close to him would be an understatement; you’ve been waiting for this all night but not sure if he’d make the move with an audience.

Each time he speaks, you feel his chest rumble against your cheek. His beating heart sounds out against your ear and you feel his fingers rubbing over your back. The warmth of his thick thighs underneath you remind you yet again of what occurred just a short while ago. You nuzzle your face into his shirt to hide from the thoughts consuming your mind, and he just continues talking while brushing over your side. Raising the bottle to your lips, you take another swig and swallow it down with a hum. Frank looks down at you and watches as you sit up higher against his chest to speak to him.

“Whatever’s in this is waaaaay better than what you gave me,” you whisper into his ear. Your voice isn’t slurred but it’s uneven in pitch, and he snorts–you’re pretty sure that’s your new favorite sound–before nodding.

“I’ll make sure to remember that, sweetheart.” His mouth is near your jaw and the breath fans over your neck. He didn’t even say anything sexual but that all-too-familiar warmth comes to life in the pit of your stomach again.

“Can I tell you something?” you ask in a quiet voice.

“Hmm?” His eyes never leave your lips.

“I missed you,” you confess. His lips spread into a wide smirk and you continue. “I know it’s stupid cause I literally just saw you but…” you trail off, staring down at your legs draped across his. “I got a little lonely when you didn’t show.”

“Yeah, about that…” He chuckles dryly and looks away from you. 

“What?”

“Let’s just say that, uh, the problem you left on my jeans was the reason I was late.” He turns his head in the direction of the tall flames and his words slowly sink into your mind. Heat rushes to your cheeks and your stomach does a cartwheel as new images flash in your mind: Frank’s long fingers working the button of his jeans open, his fingers curled around his cock, head tilted back as moans fall freely from his mouth.

There has to be a work stronger than mortified to describe how you feel right now. You still can’t believe you did that earlier and now paired with his confession? You wouldn’t be surprised if you melted into a puddle of your own embarrassment and slipped away. That also explains that his look from earlier wasn’t anger, but something much deeper and faceted.

“What’s wrong, kid?” He must’ve noticed you tensing up in his hold.

“You shouldn’t have told me that,” you mutter. You’re almost certain you haven’t blinked since he told you. Frank bursts into loud laughter, causing a few others to look over at the sound. You can’t handle the new pairs of eyes on you and you wrap the blanket around you tighter as you turn away from their curious expressions.

The night grows colder as the hours pass and you don’t even realize that the flames have died down until a few people begin to stand up and stretch, saying they’ve got to head home. You sit up and rub at your eyes, blinking slowly at the few empty chairs and people waving goodbye.

“You okay if I drop you home?” Frank speaks up as he watches you pull yourself back together.

“Are you sure? Didn’t you have some drinks?” you ask through a yawn, your eyes scrunching closed.

“Nah, saw you drinkin’ when I walked up. Just had water tonight,” he explains. 

He helps you stand up, saying your collective goodbyes to the group, before walking you to his black van. You watch as he walks around to the passenger side, opening the door for you and making sure your seatbelt is buckled before dropping the blanket back in your lap. You’ve never had someone take care of you like this and you have to convince yourself he’s just being a friend to not put more emotions in his kind gestures.

You mumble directions to him as he drives, sneaking glances at his profile as he stares out at the open roads. The lights from the lampposts shine through the window, the shadows dragging across his features as he taps his fingers along to a song playing faintly on the radio. He engages the clutch as he brings the car out of gear, coasting to a red light.

“I have another question,” you say in a raspy tone. It’s the one thing about tonight you still can’t figure out.

“Sure are full of ‘em tonight,” he jokes as he turns to face you.

“The thing you said earlier, about why you were late?” you don’t dare to actually say it aloud. “I left a few hours before the fire started.” Frank shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek as he stares at the scarlet glow of the traffic light.

“Tried a cold shower, sweetheart. Didn’t work,” he says simply. You don’t even say anything in response, just turn away from him and look out your window to avoid an even more awkward conversation. His chuckle sounds out in the small cabin of the van and you hate how your pulse speeds up.

“Just another left here,” you say after a while, directing him to turn into the neighborhood of your apartment. He parks along the curb with a clear view of your front door. The night is officially over and you want literally any excuse not to get out of this close space with him.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask in a small whisper.

“You don’t ever have to ask me that, kid.” You’re quick to unbuckle your seatbelt, leaning over and brushing your lips over his. Pausing for a second, you try to memorize the feeling of his breath fanning over your lips, before delaying the tease and pushing your mouth against his. He kisses back instantly and you suck his lower lip past your own. A not so stifled grunt escapes him and you smile knowing you can get to him in the same way he gets to you. You break the kiss and work your mouth down his chin and the underside of his jaw. He sighs heavily and suddenly places his big palm to your cheek, gently raising your face away from his throat.

“I can’t let you go any further,” he stares down at you. You sigh frustratedly between your teeth before sitting up with a groan. You pout at him and stare back at his lips, cursing the fact that you drank tonight.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. It’s late, you should head inside,” he nods towards the direction of your door. You hesitantly get out and drag your feet as you walk towards the small porch light. You unlock the door and look over your shoulder to see his van still parked. It isn’t until you step inside and shut the door that you hear the motor rev as he drives off.

You stumble into your apartment, brushing your hand against the wall until you miraculously flip the light switch on. You squint your eyes as you flinch away from the bright light and shuffle your feet forward down the hallway that leads to your bedroom. As you empty your pockets and drop your bag to the floor, you make your way towards the connecting bathroom.

Another yawn overcomes you as you struggle with taking your top off, your head getting lost in the mess of fabric. The jeans come off next and you try your hardest to hold onto the countertop before inevitably losing your balance as you try to pull your feet through the cuffs at the end of your pants. You try to breeze through your routine of getting ready for the night and eventually you're sinking into the soft mattress of your bed.

Three consecutive buzzes sound out as your phone vibrates on your nightstand, the display shining in the dark bedroom. You reach for it blindly and see text messages from your friend that drove you tonight.

“Did you get home okay?”

“Since when do you drink?”

“Also what is with you and Frank?” Oh no. A fourth one comes in as your phone vibrates in your hand.

“You have to tell me everything!”

Taglist: @chellestrash @suitsofwo3 @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl

[loupy-mongoose]

I wish my art motivation and my "want-to-move-the-story-along" motivation would get along, lol.

There's so much I rather would've drawn for this, but my brain is still in the Hisui rot. So, I'll have to make due.

Speech guide:

Randy's speech Jamie's speech (Pokespeak in parentheses) ~~Telepathy is in... these things... Whatever they're called. XD~~

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~~~~~~

The group spread out among the foliage, keeping their eyes keen and calling out Midas' name.

As they searched, Akoya sent her husband a private vent.

~~Rrrrrrrrrgggghhh! ~~ ~~Why'd she have to come with us?!~~ ~~We'll find him fine on our own, then get right back to her. She doesn't need to babysit us! What threat do we pose anyway??~~

Randy struggled to suppress a sigh. ~~I know, Hon. But we really shouldn't do anything to upset her. We're on her turf right now, and she seems to be a high authority on it.~~

~~Huh. Well I'll be happy to be done with this and back home safely in Paldea.~~

~~I know. Believe me, I know. But let's just focus on one thing at a time, okay? Right now we need to make our way to Midas without her figuring out we can feel him.~~

Randy felt a stab of regret from her direction, and glance at her to see her giving him a remorseful look.

~~...I'm sorry.~~

Randy struggled to hide shock from Jamie.

~~For what?~~

~~For being difficult...~~ ~~Thank you for being patient with me, and... all this...~~

Seeing that Jamie was searching facing away from them, he met his wife's eyes and gave her a warm smile.

~~Of course, Akoya!~~ ~~I look forward to having Midas back and getting a chance to really talk in private.~~

Akoya sighed lightly.

~~Me too...~~

Midaaaas!

The pink-and-blue Mew perked up his ears, his tear-stained eyes opening wide.

(Mamah?)

His companion, a fluffy pink and russet Mew, also looked toward the calling voice. A purr was rattling from her in an attempt to calm the poor child she'd come across and curled around reassuringly.

Suddenly the young Mew bolted, startling his companion into silence.

(MAMAH!)

Midas slammed into his mother's chest. His voice came out as a whimper.

(Mamah...)

After a brief shock, Akoya smiled and hugged the little Mew close under her chin, and her eyes welled with tears. Midas... Oh thank Arceus...

Midas' fluffy companion flew up and nuzzled Jamie's head. Before Randy could comment on her, the girl gave her a startled look, but quickly recomposed herself.

(Hey, Jamie! Good to see you!)

It's good to see you too! But... a little surprising. Randy caught the quickest dart of her eyes in their direction. Clearly she was implying something, but what that was, he had no idea.

The stranger Mew smiled at the three newcomers. There was an... odd gleam in her eyes, but she turned back to Jamie, not giving any chance to ponder it.

Randy and Akoya exchanged glances. There was no avoiding it this time. She'd caught them all red-handed.

The man sighed. Yes, we all understand it.

Akoya's face turned serious, although she couldn't hide the shock she'd received. How did you know?

Educated guess. You reacted when Clover mentioned the bag. The red-haired girl met Akoya's eyes, but she appeared neutral, rather than hostile. Randy noticed that that subtle curiosity had returned.

Beside him, he saw his wife shudder. ...I don't like how sharp you are...

Much to Randy's surprise, Jamie gave a regretful smile. Force of habit. She took a snappy breath, as if to recenter herself, and straightened her postured. Shall we move on to the house?

The three Lindens looked at each other and nodded, and they set off again. But before they went far, Jamie turned to look at Akoya once more.

...So, did Midas call you "Mama"?

Feeling a wave of exasperation from Akoya, Randy answered for her, desperate to escape this weird dance of secrets they'd ended up in. We'll explain later. Can we just get somewhere where we can breathe?

The group continued on as the sun began to sink. Jamie's fluffy Mew buddy, Pari, floated leisurely around them, sometimes humming happily, sometimes picking up a chat with Jamie. Sometimes they would pass folks on the road, and Pari would wave cheerfully or let them pet her as she purred.

Randy realized then what Jamie had meant about this being a safe place for Midas to be lost at. Clearly the locals were used to having a Mew around--or two, if Jovie was as friendly and close to the people as Pari. Some Pokemon that roamed close by would come greet Jamie warmly, happy to see her back after her time away. And Randy caught glimpses of a deep, genuine smile on her face as she talked with them

He sighed, wishing things could be straight-forward, and hoped the two parties could soon find a comfortable middle ground.

He felt a gentle hand take his own, and looked over at his wife, unable to resist a soft smile as he met her eyes. Her other arm was tucked into her jacket to support Midas, who had refused to go back into the bag and was now hidden in there. Randy had taken possession of the bag.

He looked to his other side at Lav, who seemed as drained as he was. She'd been very quiet since they arrived, and he longed to pick her brain. But now wasn't the time. He felt a pang of guilt that she'd been so sidelined by all this.

He placed his hand on her far shoulder, looking for a cue that a hug would be okay. She turned up to him with tired eyes, giving a half-hearted smile and leaning into him. He tightened his grip around her.

As they walked, seeing their escort and new Mew companion at ease with the residents, his children safe in their arms and his wife and best friend by his side... he felt a deep peace settle in him.

Once they could get all the secrets and misunderstandings out of the way...

It wouldn't be so bad here.

~~~~~~

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[ma3mae]

Hello!! I hope you are doing well, wanted to say I love your work !!

Can I request how the BSD boys (Dazai, Kunikida, Ranpo, Chuuya, Fukuzawa etc) would react to gf!fem!reader saying “I am just a hole” after they did something attractive? Something fun and suggestive ehehe~

No brain, just horny!

Summary: No one cared about you being down bad for you bfs since everything's mutual, right? (Dazai, Kunikida, Ranpo, Fukuzawa)

Genre: fluff, maybe crack, def suggestive themes, maybe a tiny tiny bit of smut. Who knows 💀

Warnings: yall gonna be horny after this 🤓

A/N: was kinda difficult to think of fitting scenarios but i had fun writing this!! Also thank you for loving my work, anonnnn 💕💕💕💕

Part 2

Dazai Osamu

WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAAAAAAT 💀💀💀💀

HES HORNY 24/7, DONT EXPECT HIM TO HOLD BACK LMAOO 💀💀😭😭

okay okay so lets say yall are at the ADA office

hes done with annoying the shit ouf of kuni and now hes just sitting on the couch, literally bored out of his mind

Kuni tells u to tell "that dumbass idiot of a boyfriend🤩" to finally get back to work so u go up to him

u know that scene where he leans his head back onto the grave and slowly tilts it back down and opens his eyes while having that soft smile on his face? oda's only purpose was him dying so we'd get that scene, crying fr 😭😭😭

Yeah hes doing exactly THAT as he notices your presence infront of him, flashing you a smile and only for it to spread even further as he notices your dazed face 💀

"Oh, bella? Too lovestruck to talk to me, I see. Can't help it that I'm just so hands-"

"I'm nothing but a hole for you"

I DONT KNOW HOW SOMEONE COULD EVEN SAY THAT 😭😭 THATS SUCH A WEIRD THING TO SAY AND SO DUMB BUT NO ONE CARES 🥲🥲🥲

AND HIS HORNY ASS DOESNT GIVE TWO SHITS EITHER 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

his eyes are fking bulging as he hears you say that infront of him

ACTUALLY shocked that you had the guts to legit say that outloud and luckily no one rly heard that except him he wouldnt mind if the whole ass office wouldve heard that, we KNOW 💀

you manage to get a good laugh out of him before he just shoots you that god awful handsome smirk before he suddenly stands up

Towering over you, he leans in and whispers "Never thought you'd be so dirty to say stuff like that during working hours. Not that I'm complaining! I'm glad to have such a strong effect on you, bella~" got me blushing fr😳😳😳

Its too late to realise what you've just said. Your fate has been sealed.

OFF TO HORNY JAIL YALL GO 💀💀🗣️

no jk but nah nah he wont stop there

Youve awakened the fking horny beast in him and how could he refuse his love offering herself so blatantly while your coworkers were literally in the same room?? 🤩😋

He just takes your hand as he proceeds to leave the office

Kuni just yells "Oi, where the hell do you think you're going?! Only told you to tell him to work! Not join his stupid shenanigans!! 😡😡"

YOU KNOW that ur bf just turns around and shoots him that annoying ass smirk, only to say

"But Kunikida, we are off to work actually! Nothing you'd be able to do anyway. Tell me when you've found something interesting in all that paper work of yours! Can tell you that our job will definitely be more fun than that~ 😁😁"

You can only give poor kuni a sheepish smile as atsushi just deadpans at the both of you, muttering a "good luck 😐" towards you as your bf just drags you to his car because your job's gonna be too loud to do at the ada and going home wont be an option since dazai's not patient in that sense 💀💀💀

Already sending prayers to you for having to go back to "work" while being sore af and dazai looking like he got out of a 10 day wellness vacation 😭🥲🥲

dazai's actually gonna spare our poor kuni by kinda doing some paper work but our man will be forever traumatised bc hes not oblivious 🗣️

Especially after seeing your neck littered with hickeys 😭😭 u cant hide them, youve got a damn mosquito as a bf 💀

kuni just tosses a bottle of water your way without looking at u bc he thinks its not modest to shamelessly look at them 😤 I LOVE U KUNI

"thanks, i guess" is all you'll hear from him bc at the end, you DID get dazai to work but at what cost 😭

Kunikida Doppo

Flabbergasted. Shocked. Disappointed. Shamefully not too hard to turn on. 💀

His first reaction is gonna be like u just told ur mom u forgot to do the laundry 😭

DEF gonna scold your ass off for saying such things in such an inappropiate setting

its not your fault hes being so hot during work 😤😤😤😤

Tell him off for being so handsome!! 🤩

Wont stop his scolding but u cant take him serious when hes fumbling over his words

Still manages to thank you for ur compliment even though its embarassing af 😭 no way would he refuse such kind words from his love 😋

So anyway it could go two ways with him

The first would be if yall wouldnt be alone at the ADA

You go up to him to ask him about a report you need help with

Ive never seen kuni tie his hair up but... imagine catching him doing that...

With the hair tie in his mouth as he pulls his hair back and like...

It makes u think of the times you'd yank it back during yk what 🤭

So he notices you gape at him and is all like "🤨 are you alright?"

Cue to you just uttering "Damn, kuni. You only gotta ask. Am just a hole for you anyway" out of nowhere

LMAO you can just hear dazai cackling from the couch as your bf just looks at you like 😳 with his mouth agape and everything

Dazai just walks up to you to pat your shoulder

"Kunikida, you've got quite the daring girlfriend!" "SHUT YOUR ANNOYING MOUTH UP"

kuni just quickly ties his hair back and BROO he nearly feels so violated and exposed 😭😭😭😭

Why would u do this to him AT WORK 😭

Ngl u and dazai prob team up to annoy him to death like hes just so fun to TEASE 😤

Anyway he just tells you to get back to work and when u tell him you need some help, he begrudgingly does it bc its important but you can still his hands shake a bit and his face is red as he tries to give you advice on ur work skskksks 💀

Be ready to get scolded for HOURS when yall are on ur way home 🤓

But dw u know how to shut his beautiful mouth up 🤭😋

But if you do the whole thing while yall are alone at work bc kuni decided to stay a bit longer then THATS a different story

Lets say he does the same thing again as above ^ and u say the same thing

He'll def turn a bit red and tell you that you cant say stuff like that during work!

"But kuni, we're alone and no ones gonna come back anyway. It's nearly 8pm after all."

The sun's setting and the only light that softly illuminates the room and it just steals ur fking breath bc 😭 hes so gorgeous with his hair open 😭😭😭

But u can still see his gaze on u, making ur knees weak bc BROO

horny jail for kuni too????? 💀💀💀

jk but he'll clear his throat and just say "a work place is still a work place so i cant let this inappropiate behavior just go like that..."

You're like standing infront of him and he grabs you by your waist, softly kneading it as he tells u to sit on his lap 😭

"Will teach that mouth of yours how to behave. Maybe after this you'll be a bit more tame. Think that idiot has been a bad influence on you like he has with everyone but don't worry. I'll be sure to teach you everything again."

I'll let you imagine the rest here 🤭🤭

Edogawa Ranpo

man just wants to eat his candy in peace, get ur horny ass away from him 🤨🤨🤨🤨

u thought dazai's a whole bitch???? Nah nah this is a MAN CHILD right here

This man wont give u what u want, nah he'll let u suffer alone LOL 💀💀

if this happens at work then 🤷 honestly depends on what mood he is i think

its a hot day in yokohama and the air conditioning is not rly helping yall

so u kinda wanna go grab some ice cream during ur break and u dont need to think twice about asking ur bf to go with u

fr he'll be SO annoying if u dont take him with u 💀 but dw he obviously knows why u r approaching him rn 🤩

but he takes a while to catch on why u just stopped and looked like a fish rn like a combo of this :0 and 😳

he just goes "🤨"

"Damn, the bathroom's close. 'am just a hole for you anyway so let's go" u legit go 😨 after realising what u just said

How no one hears that, idk but this hoe DEF heard u well

U r even more scared bc he just sits there and doesnt react but oops

only needs some sec before he opens his eyes and smirks at u 🤭

"Eh~ You've got guts, Y/N. Saying naughty stuff like that during work hours. Not that I mind though. Just shows how smitten you are by the World's Greatest Detective~"

"N-"

He just waves a finger at u like you're a lil kid getting scolded rn 💀

"Ah ah ah, don't try to refute that fact. Can't blame you for your reaction after all. It's still funny to me that all it took was me losening my tie, gliding a hand through my hair and open up a button of my shirt. ~ "

He just gets up and gives you a peck on your cheek before walking ahead

"I still want that ice ream though! If it's good then I'll give tending to your needs a thought!" 💀 THIS BITCH

but dw he'll make sure to show u how smitten he is after that bc ur mouth just tastes better after some sweet ice cream, right 🤓??

but u know whats the best combo with saying that sentence?

a jealous ranpo 🤩

like ok quick scenario

lets move this outside of work, ok?

So yall are walking around and some random dude decides to hit on u and hello 🤨cant he see that u r legit holding hands with the world's greatest detective??

u kindly tell the man to fuck off but nah hes not letting u chill

wraps protectively his arm around ur waist, clearly showing him that YOU. ARE. TAKEN.

"with that scrawny lookin dude???" bro hes got a death sentence 💀

time for ur bf to show him his skills 🤭 which means threatening him to expose everything about him

immediately tells him where he lives, what he does for a living, where he likes to shop, where his parents live. E. V. E. R. Y. T. H. I. N. G

he just smirks and puffs his chest slightly out as that dude just fking runs off bc id be terrified too 😨

He deserves it tho ✋

"What a fool! Thinking he could challenge ME?! The greatest detective to ever live! See how terrified he was!" hes fking cackling before stopping as he sees ur face

brothers and sisters, we are LOVESTRUCK

and that hoe cann see that right away 💀

"Thank you..." like should we say how hot that was???? maybe 😳😳???

"And?" AH obviously he got us 😭

but we too embarassed to say smth but NICE, theres a nearby alley so u know where hes dragging us 🤩

Pressed up against the wall and hes just centimeters away from u as he asks again

"That wasn't everything you wanted to say, right~? Of course you find me" hot" but just wanna hear it from you, love."

"FUCK, am just a hole for u" 💀😳

goes wide eyed for a sec before chuckling and saying "Well, that wasn't what I wanted to hear but I'll let it count!"

His eyes travel down your neck before finally saying "Hm, I've got an idea in how to make everyone know that you're taken. I deserve a little treat after having saved you, no?" 🤭🤭🤭 got me blushing fr

Anyway problem solved, no one made moves onto u after that and it might turn into a habit before yall go out for the next times 🗣️

But no one's complaining hihi 🤭🤭😳

Fukuzawa Yukichi

oh god where do i even begin 💀

i gotta hold myself back from getting off topic when it comes to HIM 😭

honestly this man has seen and experienced so many things, u gotta do a lot to catch THIS man off guard 💀💀

bro he had to deal with mori's ass in his 20's for too long and STILL deals with it till this day 😐😐😐😐😐

not to mention the agency is like his fking orphanage at this point 😐

Already enough that his first child is still a child with his thirty years of living on this damn planet 🤓

lets say u work at the ADA as well and now yall r holding a meeting to go over some details for a random mission

Idk if its just me but... the way he sits there and is leading that whole shit, telling em what to do and how they could handle it the best way, while encouraging everyone to work hard n stuff... idk....

Its just so HOT 😳😳😳🤭

like hes so charismatic, fuck dazai, yall cant compare ANYONE to this man 😭😭😭😭😭😭 no wonder everyone follows him, id lick his shoes too 😭😭 HORNY JAIL FOR ME?????

anyway he dismisses everyone and the both of you are the last ones to be in the room bc u r just sitting at the table and staring at him like 😳

Dw my girl, hes been noticing the way you've been looking at him the whole time

"Is everything alright, my love? You've been staring at me for quite a while now."

"N-No its nothing 😳"

nah no need to hold back bc we know our knees r gonna buckle the second he takes ur hand

AND HE DOES 🤩🤩

his eyes slightly crinkle at the end as you can see amusement dance in them

"I know that look when something's on your mind. I'll respect your decision to not tell me but I'd like to know what it is."

honestly your red face is already proof enough whats on ur mind but how can u hide it when hes just looking at you with such an intense gaze UGH I LOVE THIS MAAAAAN 😭😭😭😭😭😭

"W-Well the way you just handle everything with ease even though its a lot of pressure and i dont know...it's just really admirable but also hot when you tell them what to do. wouldnt mind you doing that in the bedroom too, you know. id be a hole for u anytime like this... "

u tryna mumble that shit out of embarassement but he clearly heard you 💀

And he does go wide eyed out of surprise because DAMN thats still pretty straightforward and was kinda the last thing he'd thought you'd say but honestly... he doesnt mind it 💀

in facr hes liking it a bit too much for himself 💀💀 but who is he to complain? Especially when his lover is being so honest with him?

" So you want me to be a bit more authoritative in the bedroom? I-It might be a bit awkward for me to do so but if it's something you desire then we'll gladly try it out together. We should be done with the mission around the evening but if not then..."

you feel his hands gently cup your face as he presses his lips against yours before pulling a bit too soon for your liking

"Then I hope this will suffice until then. I'll be sure to thank you for your patience after everything's over."

THE ONLY THIINNGG

THE ONLY THING YOU CAN DO IS SAY YESSSS 🤩🤩😭😭😭😭😭

IDC IF IM NOT SPEAKING FOR EVERYONE BC

We WILL wait for him OKAY 💀💀✋✋✋

he just strokes your hair lovingly as you try to hide ur face bc hes just too blinding

anyway as the both of u get ready to leave, yall just hear quick shuffling behind yall bc OOPS

THE DOOR WAS OPEN 💀

THE KIDS DIDNT LEAVE LOL 💀💀 THEY HEARD EVERYTHING

"😳☺️🤭😏" u can choose which ADA member would make which face 💀💀💀

ngl u prob sometimes call them ur children and BRO

ranpo actually annoys u for some candy ngl 💀

u once punched dazai's gut bc yk he'd ask the stupid question like

"if you're our mom, would that make you a milf?"

send him back to the MAFIA trash can he came from 🤩🤩

jk but might write a oneshot about him even tho hes difficult to write 💀

will def do a part 2 of this bc it gives me an excuse to simp for these men 💀

[live-laugh-legolas]

Thanks for your headcannons! How about a sketch where Gandalf, for example, helps fem! reader to cope with anxiety/insomnia and how the rest of the fellowship react to it (but only if it's not difficult for you)

I’ve just focused on the anxiety part of this prompt because I have struggled with anxiety my whole life so I feel more comfortable writing about it

I feel like some of these just turned into me giving advice based on my own experiences so please remember I am a very unqualified unprofessional and I love my therapist and suggest everyone get themselves one (as a little treat, you deserve it 💕)

The Fellowship x reader w/anxiety

Aragorn:

-He is very understanding and patient

-Doesn’t let you be embarrassed about your worries

-If you brush off your worry by asking questions about something similar that feels more “reasonable” to you he will gently call you out

-“what are you actually worried about?”

-Your anxiety might not be rational to others but I feel like anxiety rarely is; it’s still valid no matter what and he makes sure you know this

Legolas:

-He doesn’t fully understand it

-And by that I mean he doesn’t understand why some people’s brains just don’t work quite right

-Why would your brain trigger a fear response when there is no threat? Is that a mortal thing?

-Although he is confused a bit he will never judge you for being anxious

-He doesn’t even really think twice about what your anxiety is about; he just wants to help

-He quickly picks up on the fact that sometimes there isn’t really anything he can do except be there for you

-Awkwardly brings you water

-He will keep you company if you can’t sleep because he doesn’t sleep anyway

Gimli:

-He will tell you that he will fight any thing that worries you

-He kinda takes an approach of “I’m going to be over the top so they can see that it not something worth worrying over”

-This is not a mocking sort of thing; I want to make that clear; he is not going to tell you that there is nothing to worry about, he hopes you will come to that conclusion with his comedic support

-He will also give you pep talks like he gave himself before going into the Paths of the Dead (I think that was what it was called; the cave with the cursed ghosts)

-I love his softer moments and I think he would lean into this and be a teddy bear and a solid rock ya know?

-He suggests drinking ale if you can’t fall asleep but you have to tell him blacking out isn’t a healthy way to fall asleep (personally I don’t like the taste of alcohol but it does make me really sleepy. I am of age though; don’t underage drink even if Gimli offers it to you)

Boromir:

-“well what is the worst thing that will happen if (insert worry here)?”

-He takes the approach of “this is your worry and this is every way we will handle it should it come to fruition”

-I know this might not be a particularly great way to handle anxiety but I will say to myself “ok the worst thing that happens is you die. Welp if you die then at least you won’t be stressed anymore and don’t have to go to work in the morning”

-It has just allowed me to find some peace with things out of my control

-Basically he will help you find things you can control in your life and help you accept the things you can’t

Frodo:

-He is a really calm person in general and he is also super patient

-He will listen to any and every worry you have even if you have repeated the same worried question multiple times

-He will remind you to bring something of comfort with you; like your favorite hoodie; if you are going to do something out of your comfort zone or that might trigger your anxiety

-Sam is prone to anxiety at times and he has learned how to help him get out of his head a bit and he does the same for you

-I think he will just hand you something to fiddle with as a small distraction and to get a little energy out; and if nothing is available he will give you his hand or let you play with his hair

Sam:

-He takes a very hands on approach; and by that I mean he knows your common anxieties and helps you to avoid anything that will bring them on

-Will throw a heavy blanket on you if you start to panic

-He’s a little stressed while trying to calm you down just because he wants you to feel better

-He also has some anxiety so he sympathizes; you guys can reassure each other

-If you take meds he will make sure you take them even if he has to hold you down and pill you like a dog

Merry:

-My parents always told my sister and I that “they will tell us if there is something to worry about”

-Merry does this

-He tries to “train” you like a dog with a treat to come and ask him if you should be worried so he can tell you yes or no

-He obviously won’t do this if you don’t get a laugh out of it; he doesn’t want you to think he is making fun of you

-And he will be honest; if it he doesn’t know he will check it out before confirming if you should be worried about it or not

-He teaches you breathing techniques and grounding exercises

Pippin:

-This hobbit is super empathetic and will pick up on your anxiety really quick

-He’s subtle with his comfort though

-Will make excuses for you both to leave a situation without putting any attention on you

-He can be oblivious at times, but never to your emotions

-Does the “nose boop” or something silly to catch you off guard if you start to panic which can help pull you out of that headspace

Gandalf:

-Will tell you some wise shit about how everything experiences stress and how everything ends up working out

-“You are more than your fears. Don’t let your fear control you”

-I just think about the scene when he is talking to Frodo about wishing the ring didn’t come to him

-He will pass you his pipe because he smokes his troubles away; but how’s that going for ya Gandalf? *insert scene of him choking on the smoke but he keeps going despite Pippin looking like he thinks he will die any second*

———————————————————————

I have realized I talk a lot about myself and reference my parents and experiences when I’m writing these. Do y’all find that weird or annoying to read? I have found it sometimes is the easiest way to explain where the headcanon idea came from. But I also don’t want to bore anyone with my wordy explanations

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

ok the askbox is open. im taking this opportunity to say ohhhhh im going crazy over the narrative constructed here. specifically with how audience (anon) interaction is intertwined with the main conflict.

because its like.. we are inherently a BAD THING. yes, some of us are actually malicious, but even if we do have kind intentions, and only want the best for ragatha.. just being there is a negative impact that outweighs any positives. we are a parasite, after all. and technically, the only positive action we could do is to simply.. stop engaging. leave the askblog alone. leave ragatha alone. except we could never do that, because we're too curious now, too attached- we want to see how the story continues, how it ends. we cant leave well enough alone, we just have to know. we need to know. so the cycle will continue nonetheless due to our nature. and we have to watch as our main character, the person we're rooting for, gets worse and worse. knowing that its our fault, because we're choosing to engage. we're choosing this path of pain. because we're curious, and that curiosity would kill us if we didn't feed it.

and of course its on a tadc tumblr ask blog of all things lol. no hate btw. im here enjoying it after all! though honestly i say that like this had any opportunity of existing outside of the askblog genre... or even the tumblr landscape itself- i feel like the anon feature itself is also a big part of this sort of narrative, as it allows those actively malicious anons to be even nastier. because it distances us from our actions. like.. we're given a mask, something that obscures our true identities (both to the other askers.. and to ragatha to an extent, as most all look the same to her. who knows, maybe that one supportive anon trying to cheer her up is the same one also encouraging her downfall! she cant tell!)- a thing that wipes our hands free of any consequences. a chance to become faceless and untraceable- so of course some people will indulge. be as horrible as possible. because, hey, its not like you'll be getting any consequences for it! no way to trace it back to you! no way to be held accountable! you can just sit back and watch the fire you made grow higher. more bright. thats the main goal, after all- to make a spectacle! to move the story along and make it exciting! thats the only thing that matters to you. that its entertaining. not the people you'll be harming in the process.

anyways sorry for the fucking. essay. in your askbox. i like talking and also i fucking love dissecting meta-aligned narratives like this. gggrrggrgrgrrrr chewing on this blog like a chewtoy. i hope everyone gets worse and this whole blog blows up!!!!!!!

i can't stop giggling at ' its on a tadc tumblr ask blog of all things ' . this was really originally supposed to just be a silly blog with little story but here we are . you really won't get this anywhere else

i get pretty happy when someone dissects this silly thing so no need to apologize !! i'm my own harshest critic when it comes to this blog so it's often difficult for me to grasp what meaning people get out of this lol truly thank you guys for wanting to see my insane , Unhinged ideas come through

and i love the dissection on the mean anons - a lot of this thing hinges on actions having consequences after all ! every little thing will have an impact on ragatha's mental state . i'll say i think the anons have potential to not be as harmful - as there was a point in the blog's time where they acted more like inner therapists to ragatha than reality-bending beings of chaos ( good times ) . it just really depends on being patient with an actually mentally ill person like ragatha - it does fascinate me how people's frustration with her echoes real life mental health situations .

but yeah thanks !!! i'll be kissing this essay and pinning it on the refrigerator that i call my brain (:

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

will you write a fanfic about hunter from the bad batch and a female character who is maybe a nurse in pabu involving falling in love? Love love love your work

thanks so much for your patience, nonny! I hope you like this one <3

Nervous Love

Summary: You're nervous about telling Hunter how you feel; turns out, so is he.

Warnings: this isn't 18+ but my blog is so minors scram as usual; can be read as f!reader but I wrote it as gn; medic!reader, anxiety, fluff, confessions, post-season 3

Word Count: ~1.9k

A/N: apparently the muse likes Hunter right now. that, and I hacked my brain by changing the document font to Courier. Dividers by me, @/saradika, and @/dystopicjumpsuit

Falling in love with Hunter was the easy part. Telling him is proving to be far more difficult than you anticipated.

The rhythmic, ceaseless crashing of waves against the shore counts out the hours of your life on Pabu. Lungs full of brine and fresh-baked bread and bacta, you pass your days in your small clinic. You’re one of a handful of refugees on the island with any real medical training; between the younglings’ usual bumps and bruises, and the more complicated injuries that come from fishing for the islanders’ meals, or building new abodes, or just generally existing in the galaxy, you and your fellow doctors keep busy. Busy, but not overwhelmed. Not like you had been on the ship fleeing your home.

Pushing away the unwelcome dark cloud of memories, you glance out the small window of the medical exam room. Between patients, you’ve taken to inventorying the supplies at your disposal, making notes on your comlink about what you need to restock, what’s missing, what could work better. It keeps you occupied, at least.

Because if you’re not occupied or busy, your thoughts turn to him.

Not that you’re complaining. Not really. Hunter saturates your thoughts, soaks into your marrow and makes a home there. In the short few months that he and his siblings have finally found peace on Pabu, you’ve grown quite close to him. No, the reason you want to avoid thinking about the handsome eldest brother isn’t for any bad reason; it’s because thinking of him requires thinking about telling him how you feel, how you truly feel. And that, more than anything, sets off flurries of anxious butterflies in your stomach. You’ve never loved anyone before—not like this. Part of that newness scares you. 

As if summoned by your not-thoughts, there comes a familiar knock on your exam room door, a simple ascending pattern that no one else could know. Hot and cold rush through you in equal measures. Goosebumps prickle along your skin. 

“It’s open,” you call.

You keep your back to the door as you finish cataloging the small bin of medical supplies. Yet you don’t need to see Hunter for your body to respond to his presence. You’d know him anywhere. He carries with him the faintest scent of aftershave and carbon residue; every nerve in your body aligns to him like a compass pointing north. 

“Cyare.” 

His husky voice sends a shiver zipping up your spine. Despite your anxiety, the smile that spreads over your face feels natural and as easy as breathing.

“Hunter,” you sigh. 

Turning, you find his gray eyes already watching you. His hair’s started to grow out a little, and unless he cuts it soon, he’ll need to start tying it back. Today’s bandana is a deep cerulean that accentuates the glow of his skin and throws his skull tattoo into sharp relief. Part of you wants to tease him for abandoning his signature red; part of you wants to capture a holo of him in every color bandana he owns, each one better than the last.

One skeletal hand reaches for you. A furrow creases between his brows. “What’s wrong?” 

Blinking at him, you take his hand. “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

If being nervous about telling your boyfriend you love him qualifies as ‘something wrong,’ then you’re a droid.

Hunter doesn’t seem satisfied, however. His palm is warm against yours, and he threads your fingers together, but his frown continues to tug on his features. In contrast, your smile widens at the additional contact. 

“You feel...off,” he murmurs. His gaze searches your expression as if he can find the details of your woes in the lines of your face. “Heart rate is elevated. You haven’t been nervous like this since our third date, cyare.” 

“Was there a question in there?” you ask. You should know better by now than to think you could hide everything from him. Doesn’t mean you won’t keep trying.

He gives you an aggrieved look. “No. Will you answer honestly if I ask?”

“Maybe,” you respond after a moment. Even you can feel how your heartbeat skips a beat or three, uncertain where he’s going with this. “Depends on the question.” 

Shaking his head, he sighs. “Very funny. You’re off in an hour. Would you meet me at our beach?”

‘Your’ beach probably is the same beach as many other lovers on this isolated island, but you’ve never seen anyone else there at the same time. Tucked away by a line of cave-pocked cliffs on the eastern side of the island, the powdery sand and warm water is where you and Hunter shared many of your firsts. First date, first kiss, first time.

“Of course.” Stepping closer, you nudge his nose with yours. His heady musk fills your head. “If I ask a question, will you answer honestly?”

The smug little smirk that tugs at his lips makes your thighs press together. “Maybe. Depends on the question.” 

Rolling your eyes, you lean more of your weight against him, bringing your faces ever closer. “What should I wear?”

“You could show up in these scrubs and it’d make no difference to me.”

“I’m not getting sand in my scrubs again.” 

“Then wear whatever makes you happy, cyare.” 

He finally closes the gap between you. Mouths slanting together, you both sigh into the kiss. It’s familiar, this give and take. Kissing Hunter makes your entire world come to a standstill, just for him. When his arm slides around your waist to pull you impossibly closer, you hum low in your throat, heat beginning to swirl through your veins. 

“Hunter,” you warn, though there’s no real heat behind it. “I have a patient in five.”

“Mm, alright.” He pulls back, but doesn’t go very far. Cradling your face in both hands, his thumbs stroke slow arcs over your cheekbones. “I’ll see you at our beach.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the galaxy,” you say. Pecking his lips one more time, you reluctantly step out of his embrace to begin packing away your inventory project before your last patient of the day arrives. The anticipation of experiencing whatever it is he has planned at your beach makes the appointment go quickly.

Just over an hour later, changed into fresh, comfortable clothes, you wind your way down the final few walkways to the eastern part of the island. On the opposite shore, the sunset paints the sky a vivid orange, the ocean turned to liquid gold. But here, in the gathering darkness, you can’t help but beam up at the stars twinkling into existence above the horizon. The warm ocean breeze dances across your skin and invites you to play. Toeing out of your shoes as soon as you reach the beach proper, you dig your feet into the sand with a long, relaxed sigh. 

You never expected to find a home quite like Pabu. Nor a partner quite like Hunter. But you can’t imagine life without either, now.

That same anxiety from earlier, about how to tell Hunter your feelings, returns, but it’s muted here. It’s almost like the island itself is trying to lull you into a state of calmness, trying to help you believe that love isn’t something to be feared.

You hope the island is right.

Bringing your gaze back down to Pabu firma, a delighted gasp gets drowned out in the rushing of the waves. Spread out on a dark blanket, lit by a few small electric lamps wired to flicker like fickle candles, reclines Hunter. Like you, he seems to have changed into far more comfortable clothes: loose-fitting cotton pants and flowy white shirt that gives just the slightest peek of his inked-in sternum. As you approach, he looks up with a smile.

“Mesh’la,” he says, just loud enough for your ears before the wind snatches the compliment away.

Lowering yourself onto the blanket, your teeth catch at your bottom lip. Hunter pushes up to sit cross-legged in front of you. In the low, unsteady light, sea salt and sand rimed along his ankles, he looks so... different from the soldier you first encountered all those months ago. Slowly, Pabu has changed Hunter. He’s gained necessary weight; the bags under his eyes aren’t quite so deep anymore. And you can feel how living here has changed you, too: no longer living just for yourself, just to see another day, but living for someone else, too. Someone else’s happiness. The realization makes your throat tighten with unexpected tears. 

“Why’d you bring me here, Hunter?” you whisper.

He scoots closer. Your knees touch, warmth spreading through your body at those two points of contact. His gaze cuts away, over your shoulder, but you don’t follow it. He’s not looking at anything, not seeing anything, but searching nonetheless. Worry twists your stomach.

He ignores your question in favor of asking one himself. “If I ask you another question, mesh’la, will you be honest again?” 

Heart thudding in your throat, you nod.

Those eyes you adore so much drift back to yours. “If- If I were to say that I love you, what would you say?”

Lashes fluttering, your lips part in surprise. Shocked into paying closer attention, you realize belatedly that the skin around his eyes is tight with anxiety, and that he holds himself straight-backed and stiff. He’s been just as worried about this as you have.

“I’d say that I love you too,” you answer. Even with his enhanced senses, he must struggle to hear you over the waves crashing just a few dozen feet away. “I’d say that I’ve loved you for a long time.”

He swallows. “I’d say I’ve loved you since you first smiled at me. Maybe I didn’t know it then, but my heart did. I’d say I asked you to come here, because telling you how I feel anywhere else would feel wrong.”

Warmth tingles in your fingertips. Shuffling closer, you lean forward just enough to cup his cheek in one hand, your other seeking out his touch. Though his eyes seem to have trouble remaining on yours, you wait patiently for him to meet your gaze again.

“Is that what you’re saying right now, Hunter?” You don’t dare speak any louder now. No one’s around, but you don’t want this to find any ears except his. 

“Yes,” he gasps out. 

Clambering into his lap a little clumsily, you wrap yourself around him in a tight hug. You bury your face into the crook of his neck and inhale his scent, inhale everything he is and make space for this new part of him he’s shared with you. It fits into the same space you’ve just given him.

“I love you,” you whisper against his heated skin.

“I love you,” he rumbles against your ear. 

A shiver cascades over your body that has nothing to do with the way the ocean breeze has begun to cool off with the disappearance of the sun. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” he repeats, stronger this time. “With everything I am. With everything I ever will be.”

And as his admission settles into your bones and integrates into your DNA, for the life of you, you can’t figure out why you were so nervous about this.

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[theincognitomoth]

Wild Side

Pairing: Mr. Wolf x Fem!Reader (Stablished relationship)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 5731

Warnings: Rough sex, mild language, bitting, scratch,ing knotting, praise kink, male!dom, fem!sub, first person POV.

Sinopsys: During a mission gone wrong, Mr. Wolf goes on a wild frenzy and ends up hurting his girlfriend. Out of guilt, he isolates himself in a dirty apartment, all the while his sweetheart is determined to prove he has nothing to feel Sorry for.

Since the Night Howlers' incident, Wolf refused to come out of his room. He also refused to let anyone else in, except for Snake, and he refused, above all else, to see me- And that stung far more than the bite mark shaped like his teeth in my forearm as I applied the flower scented infection cream.

Three months ago Diane came with a mission for us. It was simple at first: find a couple of missing citizens. But soon the conspiracy web spiraled so further down that mind controlled guinea pigs and a butt shaped meteorite sounded sane in the same sentence. 

Those people were targets of a cult- The Naturalists, they called themselves. They believed that the root of suffering came from the modern world. A normal group with this belief might have organized a hike or camping trip but, crazy bastards that they were, thought themselves justified to take people off the streets and inject them with a brain altering drug: The Night Howlers.

That cursed little purple capsule was the reason my boyfriend refused to see me, even after two weeks of the case closed.

During a chase he was shot with the substance. Even now my stomach ran cold when I remembered the look in his eyes- Desperate at first, and then feral mindlessness. He chased me prey, my heart pounded in my ears, all my blood going to my legs telling me to run, run, run. It was still a blurry memory, the way his fangs buried on my skin. It was sheer luck that saved me that day, and I dreaded imagining the other outcome. But whatever horrors my mind came up with, I knew Wolf's was much worse, leaving him to rot in his little den of misery. 

With a heavy sigh, I put on my clothes and marched out of the apartment, standing in front of Wolf's door yet again.

“Moe?” I knocked and waited for a response that never came.

This everlasting silence would drive me mad.

“I know you can't- won't see me right now, but could you at least say something so I know you're not dead and rotting on the other side of that damn door?” 

My words were harsh, I knew, and the corridor echoes made sure to slap me in the face with them. For his sake I kept those words in. I knew he was suffering, I tried to be patient, but the sting with each day of deathly silence left a bitter taste in my mouth and I had to let it out before it made me sick.

“I'm getting tired of this- I know you feel bad for what happened, but I swear, I'd rather get bitten again than for you to play dead. Please…”

I was certain my plea would fall on deaf ears until the door locks creaked. My heart was beating in my ears like drums, my eyes burnt from not blinking. The door opened to reveal a dark room, cold and smelling like an old pantry. Snake stood on the other side, looking at me with a frown deeper than normal. He was much better at hiding  his worry than me. 

“Go easy on him,” He said, slipping out of the door and holding it open.

“Is it too bad?” I whispered.

“Would be easier if he wasn't such a drama queen.” 

I forced out a chuckle.

“Thanks.”

“Don't mention it, just… Get him out of that damn apartment.”

A difficult mission, one I didn't know if I was up to, yet had to grab this precious small chance.

I walked into Wolf's apartment and closed the door behind me.

Some people prefer winter nights over nice summer days, but the state of his apartment was absurd. I adjusted my sleeves to cover my hands as the AC turned a city apart into a tundra, its blue glowing numbers being the only light source letting me see broad shapes. Wolf sat in the corner of the couch, wrapped around an old blanket with his face hidden in it. How much time did he spent day after day like this?

One of many food packages scrunching under my foot as I made my way towards him. His ears perked up for a second before laying flat against his head again.

“Moe…” He flinched.

I sat on the couch, arms length from him.

“Can you look at me?” The knots in my chest tightened further as the seconds stretched without a response. “... I miss you.”

Finally, thank Heavens, finally he looked up at me, those big sad eyes resembling an abandoned puppy. He stared for a short while, before sifting his focus to my forearm, covered by the long sleeve.

“Does it still hurt?” He asked, voice quiet.

“No.”

“Did you get an infection?”

“I didn't.”

“Scar?” 

“None.”

“Good.” He let out a shaky breath. “I've missed you too.”

There was a glimmer of the ‘him’ from before the incident when he smiled at me- My old Moe. But I blinked and it was gone. I reached for his hands into the blanket cocoon, but he winched away, covering it up with a chuckle.

“I haven't trimmed my claws in a while.”

“Since when do you trim them?”

“I- uh, started recently.”

“Moe…”

He shook his head, leaning further away from me with a frown.

“Stop. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

He struggled to find words. I knew that angry look, but it wasn't aimed at anyone.

“Like you're the one who hurt me and not the other way around.”

When he stood up, so did I, keeping a distance as I followed him to the kitchen, littered with full trash bags that didn’t smell, for they were full of plastic packages and cans instead of real food.

“Come on, it wasn't your fault.”

“Yeah, there are blood stains on my shirt that say otherwise.”

He grabbed a kettle and put it on the stove to boil and took one cup of instant noodles from the almost empty cabinet. Shrimp flavored, Moe's least favorite.

“You weren't in control, they shot you with a Night Howler.”

“And I went after you instead of the cultist, how do you explain that?”

Over the weeks, that question plagued me too and I came up with a few theories. Maybe he chose to chase something that smelled familiar, or his animal brain saw me as easier prey, since the cultist was bigger. Whichever reason, not a part of me believed he acted from malice.

“Look, you don't need to try and justify or rationalize what happened there. I don't blame you one bit.”

“You should.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

I tried to remain level headed, but I didn't know what else to say to make him see reason.

“Why? Why the hell are you so angry with yourself when it was the crazy cultist that drugged you?”

“Because I liked it!”

The kettle whistle was the only sound in the room as I was left speechless, mouth agape and dry. I only realized how tense my shoulders were when they dropped heavy on my sides.

“...What?”

Wolf let out a deep sigh, turning off the stove and leaning against the counter. He wasn't looking at me.

“I liked it- not hurting you, not ever. But when that guy shot me with the Night Howler…” He rubbed the spot on his neck where the drug hit him. “It was like- like I had been wearing a tie squeezing my neck the whole time and the Night Howler cut it loose.”

His eyes sparkled with something familiar, that same shine from when he went through a heist plan or talked about a new driving maneuver he pulled. But as soon as that spark came, he met my eyes and it was gone.

“You can't be serious,” I shook my head. “Did you actually buy into that naturalist looney's idea?”

“It's not- look, I'm not saying I want to run around like a rabies crazed dog.”

“I sure hope so.”

It wasn’t the answer he hoped for, I knew, but it wasn’t what I expected him to say either. Something about those eyes begged for me to understand. For all that it’s worth it, I tried.

Wolf took a moment, pouring the hot water on his noodles.

“Wish I could explain it better. I haven't been able to sleep right after what I did to you, but at the same time, when I close my eyes and remember the way it felt to run around without a thought in my head, it was… free, and real and…”

“Wild?” 

He opened the lid of his instant noodles with a small chuckle, poking at the shrimp pieces with a plastic fork.

“Yeah, wild.” He took a sniff of the thing, face twisting in disgust, then put it down on the sink. 

Silence weighed on the apartment while I tried to make sense of his words. The way he spoke wasn't much different from those cultists and I couldn't use the excuse of indoctrination on him. The great leaders didn't talk Moe into buying their idea, he felt it on his skin, so much so that even the bite incident didn't stop him from missing that brief moment of brain off wildness.

Maybe the naturalists weren't so off. 

“Would you do it again?”

“The night howler? Nah, too risky.”

“But you miss the feeling.”

It wasn't a question, and the way he lowered his ears showed he knew it. I tried to relate in a way, imagining what it would be like if I could never again eat my favorite food, run in the rain or go downhill on a bike. What would be like if I had a snippet of the highest high of my life only to know I could never experience it again? What would it be like if I had a tie squeezing around my neck, only loose enough to suck in shallow breaths?

Miserable, that's what it would be like.

“Moe…” My heels clicked on the silent apartment as I approached and touched his shoulder. “I can't in my right mind say you should do drugs,” I said with a straight face and he chuckled. “But I don't want you to feel like you're suffocated either. Maybe we can find a middle ground, loosening the tie without ripping it off.”

His ears perked up a little and he looked at me with those puppy eyes that got my heart in a claw-like grip.

“Really? After what I did, would you still want to help?”

“Of course I do. What happened wasn't your fault, and I don't want you to feel suffocated.” I reached for the fluff on his cheek and Moe leaned against my hand. “I love you.”

I barely finished my sentence and his arms wrapped around me, squeezing my waist, firm and gentle, even if I wouldn’t mind having the air squeezed out of me. His head rested against my shoulder and his tail wagged fast.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

The familiar weight of his head on my shoulder melted the tension I walked with for the past weeks. I missed the way his fur tickled my cheek and the way his tail brushed against my legs. If helping him tap into a semi-wild state was what it took to keep this, then becoming a goddamn adrenaline chaser suddenly climbed its way up my list of priorities.

Minutes passed in our much needed embrace before I gathered the willpower to pull away, earning a small whine from him.

“Okay, Moe. If I'm going to help you, we are doing this right.” I walked up to his fridge where a little white board with a couple of markers was glued to the door and picked the red one, writing ‘Mr. Wolf's wild list’ on the top. “Let's start with the ideas.”

Wolf crossed his arms and leaned against the counter with a smirk.

“Not wasting any time, I see.”

“The sooner we figure out what can help you, the sooner we can implement it. So come on, ideas.”

He closed his eyes with a hum, scratching his chin.

“Pulling out a stunt with the car always gets me going.”

“Dangerous driving, then?”

“It's only dangerous if you don't know what you're doing, sweetheart.”

I stared at him, unamused for a good three seconds before sighing.

“Fine.” Against better judgment, I wrote ‘crazy driving’ on the board. “But only on empty roads.”

“Fair enough.”

“What about hiking? It's in nature.”

“Eh, I don't know. Not really a nature guy myself.”

“Really, Moe? No nature in the wild list?”

Wolf chuckled, shaking his head.

“Well, when you put it like that… Maybe I can give running around the mud and get eaten by mosquitos a go.”

“What a lovely way to put it, babe.” I wrote 'touching grass’ on the list with a green marker, drawing a little mosquito beside it.

“Okay, what else?”

Doodling a couple of stars, I waited for new ideas. When he told me nothing for a good thirty seconds, I turned my full attention to him; his tail wagged a little bit, but hung low, the clawed finger tapped against the counter in steady clicks.

 “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, I know the room is pretty dark but I'm not blind.” I placed my hands over his bouncing leg and tapping finger, the movement stopping. “You can tell me.”

He took his sweet time with it, eyes running through the corners of the room and looking away after the split moments he met mine.

“Promise you won't get mad.”

“Okay… I won't get mad.”

“And promise you'll say no if you're not absolute, one hundred percent sure of it.”

“You’re making it sound like you want to commit a crime.”

“Not far off my alley. But no, it's not a crime, it's… Not gonna lie, it's pretty damn embarrassing.”

Embarrassing. This was the man who played the suave thief like second nature, so when he looked at me like a punny teenager about to ask the cheerleader to the dance, scared of my rejection, what else could I do other than swoon?

“I never knew you had shame buried under that white suit of yours.”

I waited for his smart little remark so I could answer with a comeback heating up on the tip of my tongue. It felt nice, familiar, our back and forth.

“Yeah, that's what you do to me.”

My witty come answer turned to ash in my mouth, leaving my tongue heavy; And while my head scrambled for coherence and my knees for composure, Wolf chuckled and put his hands on my hips,thumbs running up and down sending a wave up my back and making my hairs prickle.

“I want you,” He whispered. “When you walked in, your smell almost made me forget why I hid away to begin with.”

The Moe I knew was a flirt, yes, but in a way which felt like he practiced his lines in front of a mirror. A great actor, no doubt, but still an actor. This was different, it was raw. He spoke without a filter and it made my back arch. I squeezed his shoulder, crumpling the fabric of his messy shirt.

“I want you too,” I leaned closer, breath fanning over the little furs on his muzzle. “I missed you, Moe. I missed you way too much.”

Harsher than what I was used to, his hands squeezed the flesh of my hips, and I could feel the tip of his sharp claws through my jeans.

“Sweetheart, I need you to be real with me now and only say yes if you really mean it.” A gentle hand tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I want you to be part of my little list.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I want to try something different, a little more… loose.”

The only thing stopping the heat that ran up my spine from getting to my head was the ever present suspicion.

“Loose?”

“Yeah, you said I should loosen the tie,” His grip on my waist tightened and he pulled me close enough to feel his hot breath brushing my nose. “And I want to loosen it with you.”

Little impressions I had from the time we spent entangled in the sheets suddenly became much clearer. The way he held me by the waist, kissed me, touched me- Aside from being fantastic and melting the tension from every muscle, left me with this itch in the back of my mind. Be it a scowl on his brow or hands that squeezed me too tight just to let go two seconds after, what he did to me never felt complete. Now I had the confirmation to my suspicions: He held back every time.

Morbid curiosity allied with the growing fire in my stomach, making me wonder how much I could take if he didn't.

“I want to try that out too.”

“Really?” His smile widened and he gave my hips a small squeeze. “It's not just because of me, right? Because if it is-”

I cut his rambling by the root with a peck to the lips.

“I'm a big girl, Moe. I know what I want and I mean what I'm saying. And what I want is for you to take off that leash and burn it-”

In a blink, he had me on top of the balcony, body pressed flushed together as he invaded my mouth in a kiss that left me light headed.

He took his lips away from mine and before I fully made sense of what was happening, began kissing my neck.

“Just tell me to stop and I will,” he said between little kisses and small nibbles. “And if I hurt you, punch me in the throat.”

“Hm, yeah, I can… I can manage that.” 

Pushing words out became quite the task when he was making me gasp and sending  shivers through my nerves. I held onto his head, looking down as he worked his magic on my skin, tucking my shirt's collar down to give the same treatment as my neck. While Wolf busied himself with that, I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling a hardening volume against my inner thigh.

“Already?” I smiled, scratching behind his ear.

“Hm, just missed you so much.”

His hands moved from my hips to my thighs, squeezing them like stress toys while leaving an open mouth kiss on my cleavage. I tugged at his head, and when a breathy moan left my lips, he growled against my skin.

“How much do you like this shirt?”

The sudden question snapped my attention back to him. He looked at my long sleeve shirt as if it was his worst enemy.

“What?”

He squeezed my thighs a little harder, claws poking my flesh.

“The shirt. Is it a favorite of yours?” 

“Why- no, not really.”

“Good.”

The fire that ran through my blood when he tore up the shirt with his teeth and claws was enough to make my face melt off. My mouth hung open with no words uttered as he kissed between my breasts, before pulling away to stare at my lace bra.

“Hm… Not this one.” Much gentler, nimble fingers unclasped the hooks behind me, letting the bra slide through my shoulders while he looked me in the eye with a cheeky grin. “This one I like.”

“...I'll keep that in mind.”

“But I like these even more.”

His attention focused on my breasts. He took one in his hand and kneaded it gently, before making me groan with a harsh squeeze. His grip loosened the same moment and he kissed the finger prints on my skin.

“Too much?”

“No, no, just a little sensitive. It’s been a while.”

“It sure has,” Another gentle kiss traced the reddish marks, trailing up to my pulse. “We can do it the nicer way, you know.”

There he went, offering me an out again when my desires were set in forgetting all restraint. In response my eager hands worked around his shirt, soft fabric hiding even softer fur beneath it. Maybe I was the wild animal between us.

The rumbling of his laugh vibrated against my neck.

“Or not.”

His hands returned to my tender breasts, previous gentleness gone as he squeezed one while feeling the other’s weight in his palm. The pain didn’t phase me. Sure, there was a sharp moment of agony, but in less than a second it became laced with strange pleasure, before fully dissolving into it, like a cold shower after a full day walking in the sun. 

My own hands stayed occupied, tracing my fingers over his spine, glazing my nails against his skin, and fully sunk into him when Moe took one of my nipples into his mouth, threatening to bite it down. He didn’t, I knew he wouldn’t go that far, but the possibility was enough to get me shivering.

He nibbled, sucked and played with my hardened buds until I was pulling at the hairs on his neck with enough strength to rip them, and by the end even the breeze from the air conditioner made me whine. He moved back a little, a gleam of smugness in his eyes as he looked over his work of turning my flesh into a personal canvas with purple and red marks. Those eyes that never looked more dangerous met mine and I almost came undone right then and here.

“Awn sweetheart, you’re crying?”

Overwhelmed tears stung my eyes, my entire body, especially my face, feverish.

“N-No. I’m tearing up, it’s different.”

“Well, un-lucky for you, you’re way too pretty like this.” He held my chin a little too forceful, making me stare at the predatory gaze of his. “Now I wonder what’s like if I do make you cry.”

My gasp got cut short when Wolf threw me over his shoulder like a fat shack of dollar bills and walked towards his bedroom, making me yelp when he squeezed my butt followed by a less than gentle bite.

I tried to look at his face while balancing myself.

“When did you get this strong?” 

“Always have been, just needed the right motivation.”

The bedroom was as dark as the rest of the apartment, his familiar scent all around when he threw me in the bed, right in the center of a nest-like pile of blankets and kissing down my lips.

“Comfortable?”

“Yeah, I could fall asleep right now.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, one finger pulling my pants.

“You can try, don’t think you’ll be able to. But if you get close to falling asleep…” With a swift movement, he lowered my pants to my thighs. “I’ll just have to get you on the edge again.” He slid my pants down all the way and kissed under my belly button. “...And again…” His lips stopped at the hem of my panties, fingers coming up to touch the soaked spot between my legs. “... And again.”

Threat or promise, he already left unable to catch my breath. My watery eyes admired the sight as much as the blurriness allowed it, my hips buckling against his fingers while the bastard grinned.

“Hell, Moe. You want me to beg?”

“I wasn’t thinking about it, but now that you offered…”

Leaning back on the pillows with one arm over my face, I groaned.

“You’re such a jerk.”

“Hey, don’t be mad. I’m just messing with ya, beautiful.” 

“Oh, aren’t you a jokester? This is torture-”

A jolt went up my spine when he dragged his fingers along my slick, teasing me through the panties’ fabric. Wolf’s breath hovered over my over sensitive clit before he gave it the much needed attention with an open mouth kiss that if on the lips would leave anyone drenched. I held myself back from locking his head with my legs when he moved away to slice my panties off, my fully nude form barely affected by the cold room because of how he made me burn.

Moe kissed me, the softer and passionate approach meeting the pace of his fingers teasing my entrance and smearing my clit with my own wetness. For a moment he got me thinking he had given up on our little experiment, but horny little me simply walked into a trap, only noticing when he grabbed my hips and flipped me into my stomach. I tried to use my elbows for support, but Moe pushed me back down and lifted my hips, leaning over my body, pressing himself flushed against me and whispering.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to have you like this, bent over letting me see everything. And you look so pretty. Always so, so pretty for me, sweetheart.” 

His husky whisper tickled the back of my ear and I couldn’t blame myself from the moan he dragged out of me. I needed him now, before this drove me to wild madness. And maybe that’s what Wolf was trying to do- To turn me into a crazed and unleashed beast. By the way I pressed myself against him, without a single rational thought, he more than succeeded.

“Just fuck me,” I demanded.

Growling, he dug his hands into my hips, grinding the rock hard cock against me, staining his pants with my slick.

“Last chance to back down.” The sound of his voice was followed by the unzipping of his pants.

“I think I’ll combust if I do.”

Wolf chuckled, one of his hands spreading my lips for him while the other guided his thick length to my entrance and made me gasp and grab at the sheets. It took a total of three slower thrusts before he picked up a crushing, brain melting pace and made me forget the time of the day, the place and my name. He held me by the back of the neck, and by the stings of pain coming from my back and shoulder, I could guess how many marks I would have by the end of this- and God, I didn’t care. If anything, it ripped more unrestrained whimpers and cries from my throat.

“You sound almost as amazing as you feel,” he said, voice breathless against the back of my ear, his arms wrapping around my waist and holding me like a vice. “Damn, sweetheart, so pretty, so good for me, my good girl.”

“N-Not fair, that’s my- Oh, God!- that’s my line.”

The unforgiving pace grew even more savage, cutting out my moans with each thrust.

“But you like it too, don’t you? Screaming so much my ears are ringing.”

“Sorry-”

“Don’t be.”

Although he reached so, so fucking deep into me, that wasn’t the end of it. No, not with Moe like this, not with the swollen base as a delicious reminder, slapping against me everytime he moved.

His groans grew more fanatic, he barely pulled out, rutting against me right before his knot slipped inside in a stretch that might be painful if I wasn’t soaking wet.

Hissing, Moe held me flushed against his chest and my hands held onto his forearms for any semblance of structure. He could only rut against my heat and I could only moan at the over stimulation, so close from being a mess in his arms.

“Mine,” He groaned, nibbling my ear. “My perfect girl, taking me so well.”

“M-Moe…” My body twitched, tears rolled down my eyes into the sweat stained sheets. 

Wolf licked a red mark on the crook of my neck.

“Hm, I knew you would look even more beautiful crying for me.” His voice came out in huff and puffs of hot air on my already burning skin. His rutting became relentless, the tip of his cock bullying my cervix, trying to invade everything, tear me apart, merge into me, and by God, I would let him.

It didn’t take long for me to feel the familiar euphoria rush through my veins and tie knots- how ironic- around my stomach. Barely mustering the strength to moan and cry, pitiful wails echoed back to me, and my unleashed lover didn’t trail much better, his own voice hoarse and desperate.

My climax didn’t knock at the door- no, no, no, it came bursting through it, making a mess and all around as I clawed at Wolf’s forearms like a beast and was left shaking and gasping for air amidst low whines. He kept his pace, mindlessly chasing his own high, making my overstimulation all the more wrecking.

Two more minutes of harsh slapping sounds went by before the sights of his orgasm finally appeared to relieve my shaking body. Claws dug in my hips with a possessive grip, his jaw was so tense I could hear the sharp teeth grind against each other and for a moment it seemed he wanted to merge into me before his grip loosed and I felt the familiar warmth floating my walls and leaving no empty creeks.

Fast movements died down, his head resting on my shoulder followed by a heavy and content sigh .I could finally catch my breath.

“Are you okay?” Wolf asked, kissing the marking on the back of my neck.

In my head I answered ‘yes, fantastic’, but babbles left my mouth instead of words- At least he found it funny. 

Gently, he flipped me on my back and laid me down, kissing my temple and pulling my putty self closer.

“Fantastic as always, sweetheart. I didn’t think you could get any better and you still impressed me.”

I met his eyes, a smile playing on my lips. His fur never looked more messy, inviting me to pet and try to even it out. I did so, and Moe leaned against my hand, but that sweet, blissed out smile died the moment he laid eyes on the bite mark on my forearm. My heart squeezed for him as he took my arm like it was made of glass and stared at the red teeth scars.

“Moe, it’s not-” 

“I know.” He kissed the bite mark, lips lighter than butterfly wings. “But I’m still so sorry. Even after this, you’re still doing so much for me, I don’t know how to make it up to you.”

My hand scratched behind his flat ear.

“Well, if you’re so keen about it, I would love it if you finally got out of the apartment.”

He scoffed, but I kept going.

“I’m serious. I know you feel guilty, but locking yourself up as if you committed a crime is not doing any good to anyone. Hell, if I was the one who went crazy and bit you, it wouldn’t be an issue. You might even be laughing about it.”

Proving my point, he let out a breathy chuckle.

“See?” Despite the wobbly limbs, I shifted on the bed, bringing his head to my chest and placing one leg over his waist. “You’re not bad, Wolf.”

Hesitant hands moved up my back, holding me closer, and my worries were eased once I heard his tail wagging against the bed.

“Thank you, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Of course you’re right.” He nuzzled my neck and I could feel his smile. “And you’re right about leaving the apartment too. My nose is starting to itch and I would rather eat cardboard than those shrimp flavored noodles again.” 

“How about we go for a walk and get a salad after?”

He looked at me like a little kid who got told no at the toy store.

“Fine, a walk and ice cream. But after that we're deep cleaning this place.”

“Hmm, yes. You’re definitely too good for me.”

Wagging his tail, he leaned in and kissed the purple bruise on my neck. I knew his self blame wasn’t gone, hope as I might, it might never fully be, but we would take it one step at a time. And besides, exploring this new, unrestrained side of him- of us- wasn’t bad at all.

TAGLIST: @freeholeformuzan @xxladysquishyxx

[queerfortress2]

Oh my god, I loved the way you described the support classes in an argument, I feel like it was totally spot-on. Would you be willing to write how the other classes would be in an argument, as well? Or, at least maybe the defence classes?? Thank you and have a wonderful day! 🥰

another engineer (technically) one, im in heaven. also, thank you! (also so very sorry for how short it is, my brain is so very very fried from art fight.) — mod engie

GN!READER X DEFENSE CLASSES ; ARGUMENTS

DEMOMAN

out of all of them? he is the best. he can actually recognize that he is wrong in an argument after the fact and apologise, which is crazy by mercenary means. after all, most of his problems are solved by alcohol and bombs, but he cares about you enough not to blow you up, so be thankful for that.

that being said… he’s also drunk most of the time, so the former may not even apply when you’re arguing. he most likely won’t recognise he’s even arguing— hell! he might not even remember he’s arguing halfway through and begin talking about a completely unrelated topic. it’s kind of difficult to continue from there, considering he’s either too drunk to recognise you, sleeping, or taking another swig out of a comically large bottle.

"Aye..! I know y’er mad aboot th’ match but in—" His glassy eyes looked around, almost not at you, rather your general surroundings, his leg limp slightly. Be tilted to the right as he looked towards the fireplace of the lounging area, stumbling slightly, "—Wh’teva’ ‘s really jus’ ah… hic!—" Almost on cue, the man had practically fallen, stumbling over, falling asleep momentarily. The second his body loses balance, you seem to have been forced by your instinct to catch him. The impact between him and your arms almost knocked you both over, but thankfully he slowly rose back up to his feet and looked you in the eyes. Unfortunately for you, he already forgot about the argument, and began incoherently babbling about how he missed being this close to you. ..Maybe bring it up another time. One of the rare hours when he’s sober.

when he's sober afterwards i imagine its a lot easier to have a conversation with him, after all he's usually willing to admit he was in the wrong, and a lot of the time, its not a big argument. he's just not a man easy to anger. while the support classes are much easier to aggravate. a common theme seems to be the defense class men are just a loooooot more patient. (also a lot more apologetic)

ENGINEER

its genuinely really hard to argue with this man because he is (most of the time) correct. even if it is an argument you thought you knew all about he's INFURIATINGLY on top. why? well, he does his research really. he's not as willing to win silly little debates but when it comes to much more serious decisions being made. or, say, doing something utterly STUPID at work that could've gotten you killed. yeah, the respawn exists, but darn it that don' mean you can play with it!

so when you, say, fuck around with dangerous technology, he will 100% start arguing. not because he hates you for messing with his latest trinket, but because you could've gotten seriously hurt! that's not a game he's willing to play. unlike the medic, he doesn't often fuck around with satan, the poor texan doesn't want to grow more grey hair in his... beard? eyebrows? i don't know, dell is practically bald.

"WHAT were you THINKING?" The Texan dropped his hard hat onto the desk beside him. The man works late nights to make sure no one gets royally fucked by that dangerous machine his Grandfather created a few generations before, and you're skipping out of it like it's a playground? It's safe to say his blood pressure suffers due to your recklessness. Though it was clear his volume was unwarranted, he finally started over with a long sigh, talking at a normal volume. "Y'know that thin' wasn't always 'dere? Dontcha? Don't get too comfortable with that thin'. I don' wanna see you get hurt, y' hear me?" Dell really didn't want to hear your side of the argument, after all, in his mind there was no reason in hell OR heaven for you to just casually run at the flames of the opposing Pyro for 'funsies'. Imagine how it is for him to see you die in numerous ways on the battle field. It AIN'T NICE, to say the least.

no matter how long the argument went on, he would eventually shut you down with a good 'don't pull that shit again' and move out to take a lap. he takes a lot longer to cool down than the other two defense mercenaries, mostly because whenever he argues genuinely, it gets rather personal. even if to you it seemed rather 'impersonal' and 'professional' feel-y, in his heart it was because all the machinery is what gives his family their name. whenever he sees someone messing around with it? it genuinely ticks him off.

HEAVY

man of little words argues the least, mostly because, unlike engineers, everything is rather impersonal. he's definitely heard it all, and while i don't think he apologises as often, it's also just difficult to get him to argue THAT BADLY. the most you get out of him is maybe two words telling you not to do something, and even then there's not that much room for argument is there? you either do what he's asked of you or you don't. both are things he can't quite control. he's just as stubborn, as you can tell he just does his own thing, only following directions when he can see it's vital for his or others' survival.

not impossible to argue with him, however. there are times when you can get him to argue, but its usually not anything important. perhaps you had a different opinion on how a cliffhanger was supposed to be interpreted? now we're getting somewhere. maybe you have a rather negative imagine of fyodor's brothers. he's not gonna let you pass without explaining why.

"I just didn't understand what the Father was supposed to mean in all that!" You may have exclaimed as you sat across from the largest mercenary on the team, yet sat composed in a comfortable sofa chair, with small glasses and a comically small book in hand. He wasn't usually seen like this, after all, most people see him screaming violently on the field. It's only this side that you see most commonly late at night. The way you seemed to speak of it was rather surface-level. Which, not to blame you, it's a Russian novel, not many are reading it at all. Heavy never owned books in English. So it's really just for you to 'suck up and take' while reading with him. Thankfully, he's taught you enough to have you fill in the blanks with common sense. Perhaps it was just American society getting to you. Back at home, the meaning was a lot easier to grasp, knowing that most were under a similar crushing situation under the new rule. At least in Russian society, where a lot of knowledge is needed to even begin to understand the book, the brothers' differences were clear in what they represented and what their father represented, especially in the modern day with the uprising and new government, filled with Soviet control. The man stared lost in thought at you, which is mighty intimidating on its own, before actually speaking up. "Ah, no." He simply shook his head, leaning forward in his chair for you to hear him better, "He uses father in metaphor not..." He snapped his finger attempting to remember the English word for his sentence. "Literal. Father mean more than just caretaker. Mean oppression." It sounded as if he were to continue before he simply sat back and relaxed back into his chair.

it didn't exactly feel like an argument, in fact it felt more like he was informing you. but that's genuinely the closest i could ever imagine him getting to an argument. he just doesn't seem like that type of guy.

[faux-ecrivain]

1950s househusband part 3

(Twenty first official post)

(Recap of part two)

(Name’s Angelo)

(Not the best installment of Angelo’s series, but I just wanted to write about him and so I did.)

———————————————————————

         He clasps his hands together and just as he’s about to apologize, you speak. “It’s alright, back in my old town I would always get late night visitors.” Angelo gets mixed feelings by your response, but he brushes them off and asks to come inside. “Would it be too presumptuous of me to ask if you would invite me inside?” He inquires politely, though he expects you to reject him. He hopes you’ll let him in and then maybe you two could become fast friends. 

        You consider his words for a moment, you shouldn’t let him in, but he did give you cookies and he seems harmless. Plus, if he tries anything, you could easily over power him (he looks rather weak). You shrug and allow him inside, once he enters (with a wide grin) you out your bat away and close your front door. Hopefully, this decision wouldn’t be one of your regret.

———————————————————————

        Angelo was immensely relieved when you let him in, he was worried you’d think him a creep for coming over so late. But you didn’t and to him, that meant quite a lot, he smiles at you and waits for you to take his coat. It takes you a few minutes (because you have to put the cookies away), but you eventually understand and, after a brief apology, assist him in taking off his coat. “Ah, sorry. Let me help you.” You speak quietly, yet he felt welcomed by your tone. It isn’t very difficult to take off his coat, and you make idle chatter as you do so. 

      “So, Angelo, right? What brings you over so late?” His heart beats rapidly as your breath graces the back of his neck, he can barely focus on the conversation that you’ve started up. “Mhm, Angelo is my name. (he likes the way you say his name) Ah, well, I simply wanted to welcome you to our little town and I want to help you adjust!“ He chirps back to you, his mind distracted by your touch. Your left hand tugs one of his coat sleeves off carefully, your hands are gentle and adept at this task. 

     It makes him wonder how many coats you’ve taken off, or perhaps you’ve taken off more than coats back in your old neighborhood? “Angelo is a handsome name, but did you really have to come over so late?” Despite being distracted by your compliment, (his face flushes) He couldn’t help but wonder how many you’ve touched, and it made him rather envious. “Th-thank you and I know my visit was quite unexpected, but I was simply so excited to have a new neighbor finally. I’ve known everyone here for so long, it’s become rather monotonous.” He over explains, his nerves getting the best of him as he rambles and wrongs his hands together. (or tries too, but his actions are prevented when you get his coat off)

       You hang his coat up in the closet and guide him to the couch, you smile politely and compliment him once more. “That dress is quite lovely, unexpected but lovely, and you’re welcome.” You then respond to his rambles as patiently as you can (you don’t like it when people ramble, it’s annoying). “I see, well, I guess that makes sense, but maybe next time someone moves in don’t visit in the middle of the night?” You suggest, although Angelo wasn’t paying attention because he was distracted by the heat of your body that’s sitting close to him. He exhales shakily and tries to remain calm as you compliment him, although it’s hard because he’s a sucker for praise. “Right, uhm, thank you for the a-advice…” He stutters, his brain short-circuiting and his face flushing with every breath you take.    

      He is absolutely whipped for you, everything you do is committed to his memory, and he inches closer to you with every passing second. “You’re welcome, so, are you going to give me a tour of the town or some advice to settle in, and get along with my neighbors?” He didn’t want to, but he figured that it was best to be as helpful as possible. That way, you’ll trust him the most and will come back to him whenever you need help. You, however, scoot away from him, eventually ending up near the end of the couch in a corner and Angelo follows you. “Oh, uhm, certainly. I’ll be happy to give you advice and a tour, but I was hoping we could simply have a friendly chat first…” Angelo responds hopefully, he just wants to get to know you and doesn’t want to talk about anyone else. However, something you said earlier caught his attention. “Unexpected? Wh-what do you mean by that?” He questions nervously, his wide eyes nervously glancing at you and his bottom lip quivering at the thought of you hating him. You tilt your head, slightly confused and then you try to clarify without sounding rude. “Well, back where I’m from men don’t often wear dresses, that’s all.” Before you can clarify any further he interrupts you, which was quite rude and he apologizes for that, but doesn’t stop talking. “Sorry for interrupting, but you don’t like it? Does my fashion sense upset you?” He inquires his expression shifting into anxiety and his mind begins to work in overdrive. His hands squeezes the cloth of his dress and he twists the fabric. Angelo doesn’t do well with rejection, of any form or shape. Suddenly this conversation seems very awkward to you and you regret opening your mouth. “That’s not what I meant, that dress looks great on you. It’s just someone have to get used to, that’s all.” He smiles and he seems content with your response. “Really? You mean it? Thank you!” It isn’t often that he gets a compliment from anyone and it’s been a while since anyone he was interested in complimented him (excluding his spouse, he loves his spouse so very much and is very interested in them). Angelo relaxes and leans his head on your shoulder, which causes you to cringe and push his head away. He whines and leans against you once more, this time he wraps his arms around your arm and nuzzles your neck. Now you’re very uncomfortable and have begun to regret your decision to let him inside.

—————————————————————————-

[jomamaofficial]

A Hero's Burden (Midoriya x GN!Reader Angst No Comfort Oneshot)

A/N: FIRST OF ALL, SPECIAL THANKS TO @caramello07, BECAUSE THIS ABSOLUTE LEGEND HAS BEEN HELPING ME CREATE THE PLOT AND BETAREADING MY WORK. LITERALLY, BESTIE, YOU'RE A REAL ONE 🫶🫶.

Hello hello my lovely readers! Thank you for being patient with me. My exams are around the corner so I have been so, so busy with that. But I always pop in to see you guys leave the most beautiful feedback and comments, it makes my day <3. I hope you enjoy this just as much as I did. I really put my heart and soul into this one. 

Please let me know whether I should lowkey create a YouTube channel where I read out my work the way I intended to. 

As always, my Ask Box is open for any requests or just a conversation. I absolutely adore all of you, and I want to take this time to thank you guys for your support. Seeing your comments and messages motivates me to write :) <3. Please remember to take care of yourselves, and enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts in the comments :).

TW: Death and bleeding, SUICIDAL themes. 

CW: SPOILER: Season 6, Izuku’s Vigilante arc, swearing, difficult friendship dynamics.

Masterlist 

Word Count: 3242.

 Summary: Heroes always win. Every folktale, every comic, everything in our life tells us the same thing: good reigns over evil. But the harsh truth comes crashing down in a dark warehouse, where the facade of invincibility crumbles. Amidst the shadows, surrounded by those who once vowed to protect, you can only helplessly watch as your best friend, Midoriya Izuku destroys himself under the weight of this flawed, and broken system. With the entire hero society relying on him, how can he stop giving everything he has? In a world where heroes are human and kindness is a liability. You try to help him, yet even the strongest bonds can shatter under the weight of despair. 

——————————————————————————————————

How does it feel? 

When everything in front of you disintegrates into pieces, whilst you can only sit there and watch? 

It feels like a dark warehouse. Cold and wet. 

Sunken in, casting a dark shadow, impersonating the night sky, your eyelids were heavy, succumbing to the shared lethargy that lurked in the heavy air. Your brain did not allow you to rest however, listening only to your palpitating heart, because what if the villains found you whilst you were fast asleep?

Heroes were there to protect you. 

But why were you still so afraid? The nation's best heroes had congregated together, sharing the same space as you, breathing the same air as you.

They would never let harm come your way– it was their duty to protect you.

So why were they hiding from that harm, sitting with their knees held close to their chest?

Heroes were there to protect you, but that claim was voiceless in the presence of reality: heroes were hidden– whispering and begging the ground to stay silent as they shuffled in the shadows. Villains ran loose– mocking the hopeless souls that they trampled on, with every free, and unabashed step they took.  

Death had not only taken  multiple heroes on the battlefield; it had also snatched their facade. 

They were not invincible. They were not untouchable. 

The world had just forgotten that their heroes were only human after all. 

A phone rang. 

Roaming eyes halted. They could not speak. 

“It’s mine”, Hawks said. 

Breaths were held. 

“It’s from All Might”. 

You leaned in closer. 

“Midoriya-kun came into contact with the second hired gun.”

Your chest ceased to move. 

“...and he won instantly.” 

-

“Young man-”

“He didn’t have any information.”

The sky wept. 

The moon and stars had masked themselves under the darkness   that shrouded the city. If they could not see you, they could not harm you. 

Toshinori Yagi had just watched the last remains of Midoriya Izuku’s innocence drain into the gutters of Musutafu. 

“He might explode too. Be careful.” 

He felt the impact of his student’s departure faster than he could comprehend. Therefore he took the chance to call after Midoriya, summoning the scarce energy he had left, ignoring the rising threat in his weak chest, which was ready to surrender to the bloody phlegm building inside of him. 

“Wait a minute!” Toshinori ran after him– though Midoriya had only moved for a second. 

“Food!” he gasped, his hands lifting a box wrapped in a blue cloth. ““Please, my son, you haven’t eaten…” 

His hands tightly grasped around the soft, crisp fabric that was decorated with orange carrots, and white bunnies with pink noses. When he first saw it, Toshinori chuckled to himself before deciding to buy it– this was made for Midoriya, his rising hero, the purest of hearts. 

“All Might.” Midoriya did not look back. “I’m fine now. You don’t have to follow me.” 

Toshinori’s shoulders slumped down and his brows lowered, pulling closer together. Midoriya was walking away from him without a second glance. 

Midoriya had not met his eyes once today. 

“I am fine now.” The wind howled louder than his voice, unconvinced. 

“Young Midoriya, please...”

The energy around Midoriya had increased, visible power– venomous and hostile– overflowing from his tense body that was moments away from breaking. 

Toshinori had to stop him. Or history would repeat itself.

“Midoriya, please, don’t d-”

“I can move at the same level as your 100%...” Midoriya whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. “You don’t have to worry…” 

His tattered clothes soaked in the rain, his sound of his heavy steps getting quieter and quieter.

“Please”, Toshinori begged, “wait a minute…” 

But before he could finish his heart’s plea, the one who it was meant for had already left, pushing everything away, leaving everyone he had burdened in the dust. 

The lunch that his mentor had lovingly made for him now belonged to the sidewalk and the merciless rain. Soon, it would also flow into the gutters of Musutafu. 

-

The warehouse door crashed open. 

“Midoriya is nowhere to be found!” 

All Might ran in, his hands against his knees, gasping for the still and stale air. 

“He-” he huffed again, regaining his breath,” he, he left… I tried to contact him. Phone… off… he’s nowhere to be found… sent class after him… didn’t find him either” 

Your eyes twitched at the blank stares that his words had harboured. No one batted an eye. 

They were too busy counting the days until they would be found by the real threat. 

All Might’s concern for Midoriya ran thicker than blood. And had you looked past those deep-set eyes, you would have noticed the faint veins that bordered his gaze; something was stolen from him. Midoriya had been stolen by the expectations of the world, held hostage in his own mind. 

“I know where he is.” 

-

Orudera Chūgakkō. Memories had been etched into the red brick walls. You pushed against that same black gate, its groans and creaks forming the haunting symphony that would promptly begin at eight o'clock sharp. 

Lessons would start at eight-thirty, and the low murmurs of the class would subside as your sensei would come in, dropping her bags next to her desk. You would all stand up together, reciting the same monotonous ‘Good Morning Shima-Sensei’ before sitting back down. If she was in a good mood, the class would commence. But if she was (more likely than not) in a bad mood, the entire class would get a scolding.

“You cannot wish your teacher a pleasant good morning, but you can chat to your friends with double the energy?! Do that again. Now! Show me some respect.” And you would all stand for another five minutes, smirking and giggling, repeating it again. 

What once felt like a tedious task now brought a smile to your face as you reminisced about the moments spent in the classroom before you.

Birds would chirp, filling the classroom with a sonorous melody. The walls would be  decorated by the younger children who drew rainbows and flowers and butterflies with every colour they could get their hands on. There wasn’t a speck of grey or black found in these drawings.

It was so fun to be a child– just a few years ago, your life was filled with colour.  

Everything now was grey and bare. 

At ten o’clock, the bell would ring and children would scream as they ran towards their friends, ignoring the poor teachers who repeated: “children, please don’t run in the hallways, children please, you may get hurt!” 

The large corridor was so full with a sea of chuckles and laughter.

Today, undisturbed dirt coated every surface on the corridor. A desolate strip led down to the most frequented stairs of your past. Its laborious steps led to a place that no student visited as much as you did. On the sixth floor, the rooftop brought you closer to the blue sky and the fluffy clouds. You and the sun would overlook the vast plains of never ending buildings, glistening under the morning glow. People would walk, cars would drive; the hustle and bustle of everyday life resided on the grounds below you. So how could anyone truly feel alone? How could anyone ignore the true beauty of your favourite spot in the whole school?

You now understood that beauty was in the eye of the beholder– the painful truth. 

Sleepless nights were spent wondering, what would have happened if you did not visit the rooftop on one particular day? What would have happened to the nameless boy who had stood there, head hanging low, body quivering, feet on the ledge of railings. 

Who could have guessed that this stranger would end up as the only friend you ever had? 

You could recognise him in total darkness and in different bodies, for Midoriya Izuku’s pure heart could never change. It would always draw you towards him. 

You ran up the swindling stairs, the steps leading up to the sixth floor seeming longer and steeper than before. Serenity only belonged to the past– this place brought nothing but a looming sense of dread, weighing you down as time ticked by.  

The closer you got, the weaker your heart felt. You had read about it somewhere– our bodies always knew what would happen, so they could prepare us for the worst. 

But the thought of losing him before you could see his eyes, your beacon of light and hope, would rend a part of you forever. 

So you carried on walking, ignoring the foreboding pricks cultivating in your body.

Those eyes… you could not live without them. They were an open window into the bright and welcoming flame that resided within him. He would give warmth to those who needed it without asking, never expecting anything in return. 

Kindness had no price.

So Midoriya Izuku would live with kindness in his heart, even if it meant that it would be vulnerable and open for everyone to use as they pleased. 

Midoriya Izuku was priceless. There was no one like him in this world filled with deceit and hate. But the world did not like those who were different from the rest.  

He gave and he gave. Yet what would happen when he gave every piece of himself to a world that never gave back? What would happen if he finally had nothing to give apart from his soul?

The world is cruel. 

They would steal everything he had. And that is how you found him, through the already opened door, standing under the thundering sky that showed no forgiveness to the young man who would once smile at them too. 

Tip tap, tip tap, your eyes were blurry, but not from the rain. They had betrayed you, yes your gaze. For the man in front of you was not the man whom your heart could recognise from afar. You were so close, yet your hearts held distances, akin to the stars. Blood wept, following the course of the pouring water, revealing wounds, neglected but vain. They cried for attention they would never get, as the man who was once a stranger, had become estranged from them. 

“Deku…” you did not want him to turn around, praying for this to be a mistake. FOr him to look confused, asking you, “who’s Deku?” 

This can’t be your Deku… he couldn’t be your priceless hero…

His head barely turned, but you caught a glimpse of his glowering eyes. 

They donned an arcane mask of toughness. His front, unbreakable on the surface, yet unfortunately flawed. You could see right through it, uncovering the secrets that he hid in plain sight. 

Immense pain had found an abode in his glassy, teal eyes; exhaustion chipped away at the shell that kept him put up to protect himself from the looming danger that would attack as soon as it smelt his foetid weakness. Midoriya let it happen once, jeopardising everyone around him. 

He wasn’t going to let it happen again. 

“Go away,” Midoriya cautioned. 

His heart expended too much energy pushing everyone away. He could only hope that you would listen to him– he didn’t want to hurt you. 

“Deku…” you pleaded, eyes misting over as you cautiously step forward, hands stretching wearily towards his shoulders, taking care not to brush past those fresh, untended marks that showed through the rips and tears in his clothes. 

“Please Deku… let me help you.”

Midoriya stiffened under your touch, guilt overtaking his body. 

You couldn’t be seen with him.

The eyes. They were everywhere. 

They tracked his every move. And if they saw you now, he would never see you again. 

You felt a strong jolt push you back into the wall, your head crashing against the stone walls, losing your grip on him completely. Your hands felt empty– he had disappeared from under your touch. 

And it all happened so fast. 

Midoriya stared at his hands, his blood fleeing from his extremities. The realisation slowly dawned upon him, raising his heart beat, shifting the energy around him– he was a monster. Mioriya began gasping for air, choking on his own spit and tears, his vision tunnelled in on the surface of his palms.

A monster.

That’s what he was. 

Your body lay limp in the rubble of concrete and dust, you swore you felt something wet on the back of your head, but your eyes urgently searched for Midoriya, who was pale and frozen near the edge of the roof. 

His feet began to sway, and his eyes began to flutter shut. You overlooked the jolts in your body for your mind could not bear this sight again. Despite the clear warnings your aching flesh had given you to rest, you still ran towards him, clutching his body before he fell onto the ground.

Only in your arms had the outer shell of this vigilante’s stone defence fallen, emerging a broken child who had just caused immense pain to his best friend. 

“I’m so sorry”, he whispered through his dried throat, quivering as the walls in his mind closed in on him. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry”, he repeated, again and again, trapped in a cyclical doom which served only to condemn him. 

He was a monster– that depraved voice screamed. 

He was a monster– that depraved voice echoed as it stalked him in the depths of his own mind, following him into his deepest, intimate fears. Clutching it, taking over.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…

He was disturbingly light in your arms; you just noticed his hollowed cheeks. 

Midoriya’s strained forehead loosened as he broke down in your hold, tears running down his thinning face. Your heart beat alongside his, yet you did not dare to glance into his emerald eyes, for they had been robbed of their precious shine. You placed your finger over his mouth as he opened it to say something, a silent reminder– everything will be alright. 

“Give me your pain, Deku, please…” you begged, stroking his curly hair away from his eyes. “I can’t see you like this anymore”. 

A singular tear dropped on his cheek, stinging him with regret. 

“You don’t have to carry that burden alone, Deku… It’s too big… too big to carry alone. You give too much, you don’t know when to rest. You break yourself, for people who don’t deserve it and you take on things bigger than you can ever manage! You think you can do everything Deku, but you can’t!” you cried, unable to stop. 

“You don’t need to work this hard, Deku, you don’t. You’re forgetting who you were, Deku. You’re not indestructible! You’re not untouchable, you’re not All Might! You can get hurt, you- you can bleed, you can die for god’s sake, Deku, you can die!” 

Your voice began raising uncontrollably, as you held his face, shaking him. 

“You’re just a kid, Deku. My Deku… the sweet boy who I love. My best friend…” you grabbed his hands, squeezing them as you took deep breaths, your throat aching.  

“But you’re unrecognisable now… You’re destroying yourself thinki- thinking that you’ll survive but what if you don’t. What if you don’t survive, and all of your friends, your teachers, your mom, they’re all just waiting for you to come back.”

Your eyes solemnly scanned his wrist, eyebrows furrowed and lowered. A litany of cuts, healed and unhealed, adorned his wrists, glaring at you. Your trembling fingers gently ran over them, hovering so as to not agitate them. 

“But since you wanted to prove that you’re a hero, you go around picking fights that you can’t win.”

The scars on his wrist opened wounds of the past.  

Your hands that held his wrist felt empty again. Midoriya averted his eyes from yours, before pulling his sleeves down, stretching the thinning material of his hero-suit, until it covered his exposed skin. 

The rain’s sobbing grew louder with every moment that passed by in dismal silence.

“What would you even know about my life, Y/N?" he asked, his voice drowning in the cacophony of the storm. 

Just like that, all of the progress you made had collapsed in front of your eyes. Midoriya had rebuilt the cage around his heart

“Deku, what happened?” 

Your hands, which reached out for him, were immediately shaken off.

“What would you know about my life? About my struggles?” 

His legs faltered when he tried to run away, cramping as a warning: Midoriya couldn’t move, he had used up all of his energy. 

“Deku plea-” 

“You said what you wanted to say, Y/N. Thanks for reminding me that I can’t let my guard down, even near people I thought I could trust. I’m not ‘indestructible’, I’m not All Might, I never claimed that. But unlike you, I have the world's burden around my shoulders. If you were putting everyone around you in danger, you'd run away too Y/N. But you wouldn’t know that because you're not the one giving everything your body can give, just to find out it's never going to be enough. You’re not the reason this entire city has turned into a ghost town. But what would you know, Y/N?”

He turned around, gaze hardened into stone. 

“You're quirkless".

Blood rushed into your cheeks, your heart beating fast. 

You must have misheard. 

“You don’t mean that…” 

He didn’t. The sweet boy you had met years ago on this same rooftop would never use that against you. He didn’t mean it. 

"Now, I know why I was treated the way I was when I was younger, Y/N. The quirkless really don't know anything."

You couldn't have misheard that. 

You had been beside his side to see every intimate detail in Midoriya’s life– every victory, every laughter, you celebrated together. Every shove and every taunt, you endured together. 

-

“The Quirkless Duo, aw what are you going to do now? Cry?” 

“I wonder how your parents feel, only having one useless kid that can never protect them.” 

“Ya’ know, if you want a quirk, there might be another way. Take a swan dive off the roof of the building, and pray for a quirk in your next life." 

-

We are born into this world completely alone. And we die in this world completely alone. 

Only fools believe that they can escape that. 

‘What would you know, Y/N, you're quirkless.’

You were truly alone in every stage of your life. 

"You're becoming exactly what we feared, Midoriya.”

He stopped in his tracks, swallowing the rising bile that crept up his throat.

“If I knew this is what I'd get after standing up for you those countless times where I got hurt, where I got kicked and punched and teased everytime I defended you, I would have just let you jump off that roof.”

The wind wailed through the night sky, moving everything in its path. 

“You're no hero Midoriya. But you’re right about one thing. You’re the fucking reason everything around you is getting destroyed.” 

It was funny to think that their first and last meeting would be on this rooftop. 

Midoriya looked at the world, greyer than it had ever been. 

It had lost life.

He waited until he heard the door shut behind him.

This life truly had nothing to live for.

[wolfs-archive]

"Woah, now I know why you don't drink with us!!!!" || Part 1

Part 2 || Masterlist

Summary: Y/N has a secret crush on Felix. Little did she know he too liked her. All the boys are Y/n's friend as they go to the same college and live under the same roof. The other boys did know of Felix's crush but are clueless about Y/N. Little did the blooming couple know that an anesthesia would be the one bringing them together.

Pairing: NonIdol!Felix X Female!Y/N

Genre: slightly suggestive, fluff maybe, mentions of alcohol, high Y/N

Note: Y/N is sedated, The Felix or his other roommates mentioned here are no where related to the idol Stray Kids and are just a fictional character. Minors DNI please!!!

"Initially we give less dosage of anesthesia to patients who come for the wisdom teeth removal, since Y/N's so sensitive, we had to give her higher dose. So she would be high for some time, and would come to her senses after 8 hours. Meanwhile, if she faces any issues you can tell her to take the prescribed tablets. Also she is advised not to have any spicy or hard food for a week. Only liquid food for an entire day and soft food for the rest of the week." said the Dentist. "Thank you Doctor", Han said as he helped Y/N get up and made her go out . "Y/N, I'll get the medicines and you stay here" he babied her. "Who are you? I do what I want to." Y/N retorted. "Y/n ah, I know you are a brat, but I'll let this pass once, only just because you are under sedation" a triggered Han said as he left her on the chair to get medicines. On his way to the pharmacy, he met Hyunjin. "Han ah, where is Y/N? Chan asked me to tag along in case you needed help". "Bro, I have made her sit on the chair, can you please take a look at her. She is spewing nonsense. Such a menace she is." Han replied. After the medicines were bought, Hyunjin and Han helped Y/N walk on her way to their car. Hyunjin sat in the driver's seat and a staggered Y/N went to occupy the passenger seat. Not even 5 minutes later, she was transferred to the back seat and was made to sit with Han with all the fuss she created. "Chan, we are on the way back and .... Y/N!!! stop pulling my specs" Han yelled and after a heated argument Han relied to Chan about Y/N's diet and the dentist's advise.

Y/N is usually a bubbling extroverted girl. A beautiful girl who is one year younger than I.N. A person with both beauty and brains, had a lot of people courting her, but her eyes laid only on one of her roommate, Lee Felix Yongbok. Being a bratty roommate with others and making fun of everyone with all possibilities, she has always had a soft spot for Felix and has never made fun of him. The others had never doubted this because, she had treated him like how all would treat him. But be it arriving on time for a class, or making any meal, or saving a book she had all done it ready for him. Often the members would have late night outs and parties and she being the only girl was literally treated like a younger sibling and was never allowed for any late night parties. Whenever it would be, just "Saturday Nights" at their dorm, she would always insist on having orange juice or sparkling water rather than alcohol. The members though knew it, that it was because of her lower tolerance level and that she would be difficult to handle, didn't force her. On the other hand, she didn't want to because, she knew she would pour her heart out if she drank and didn't want to miss the friendship she cherished. So, it was only when she was with he girls that she drank. That was how much she loved him.

Similar to Y/N, Felix liked her but didn't open up his heart to her for the fear of loosing her friendship. He kept it to his heart, until one day, where they had a game of truth or dare during their "Saturday Nights" and he confessed to have feelings for a particular girl. Upon closely watching his previous movements, the group concluded that it definitely was Y/N. When he asked how, each of them had their own answers for confirmation. Seungmin said, "I saw you waiting for her after class, to walk along with her to our dorm, even thoug you didn't have class that day". " One night when I went to drink water, I saw you tucking up her bedsheet " Hyunjin replied. "I saw you having her as your wallpaper on your phone" replied Changbin. He also added, "I didn't mean to peak at your phone, remember; when I had asked for your phone to text the professor. It was that time I realised it". "Not to mention, we share the same room and one day I saw you texting her, you slept with your phone. When I tried to keep the phone on the table beside, I saw a notification with Y/N's name along with a light blue heart." replied the youngest. "Don't you think I know the way steal glances of her during our combined sessions?" asked the eldest. "I knew it the moment you told me weeks ago about how you wanted pasta for dinner just because Y/N had a bad day at college. You have never done it for anyone else" said Lee Know. "Remember the one day I borrowed your book for reference? Do you not remember what you had written in it? The entire book had Y/N's name on it just like how a psychopath writes a person's name" said Han "You have been too obvious with it around us. Y/N must be either dumb or must be really clueless about it" he retorted.

Back in the car, when Han cut the call, Y/N "Bro, where is my love? I wanna meet him" she said. An astonished Han, asked who it was for which she replied that he knew him. Hyunjin in the driver's seat replied "I guess Felix is screwed!!!" Meanwhile, "You Quokka like human, where is my love? I want to meet him. Kiss him... Please bring him here." Han knew it wasn't easy and not right either to bring words out from her, so he decided, "Y/N let's play this game 10 questions. I'll ask you 10 questions and you have to answer them honestly. By the time you are done, I'll bring you your love. Deal? " he asked. "Deal" she challenged.

Even after 10 questions, he was not able to find out who it was and had arrived to their dorm. Han and Hyunjin had tricked Y/N into make her believe that they were at her "Love's" home and that she had to go in to see him. As soon as she entered, she started yelling "Lee Felix Yongbok!!!! where are you?". Hearing her voice, Felix came out to see what was going on.... "Come here!!!!" she ordered as she sat on their sofa, pointing her hands, implying him to sit near her. "What is it Y/N?" asked Felix as he sat near her. A wild Y/N, grabbed Felix's shirt by the collar, just leaving a gap of 2 inches between them. She could feel his breath pace take off and her cheeks now tinted with red. With a raspy voice, she said "Do you know how much I love you? Those freckles and the cute smile is definitely the death of me. In the future, if I get married, I want it only with you and our kids will have beautiful freckles just like you" she confessed. Everyone were too stunned to speak at the confession. Meanwhile Hyunjin, "Han, we were so clueless, the entire ride she was talking about.... was it Felix????" Han replied "Now with what she confessed, I think, no conclude that it was definitely Felix." "You know why every time you call me to have drinks I deny? It is because, if I drink, I would pour my heart out. I don't know what is in your mind and if you don't like it, I would crumble into pieces. i wouldn't be even able to face you" she said. Her hands now across his neck as she pulls him in for a deep kiss. Breaking out from the kiss, Felix says" Who said I don't like you? I've always loved you, and will love you. " as he tucked the small fringe of hair behind her ears. " Woah, now I know why you don't drink with us. It's okay." he says, as he carried her to her bedroom.

Idk if y'all want Part 2. But if you want, please feel free to ask it in the comment section.

[wyntereyez]

Wool of bat and tongue of dog

Thanks to @jrob64 for the banner! It's perfect.

Here's the first part of my @cssns contribution. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but thanks to me being a terminal procrastinator combined with a very busy two weeks at work, my brain can't word very well at the moment.

Part One

The door to the Storybrooke Bat Rehabilitation Center was unlocked.

Emma immediately went on the alert. Mary Margaret had left over an hour ago, and she’d never have forgotten to lock the door behind her. After Walsh and the events of the previous month, Emma had taken to bringing her gun with her. She could see Mary Maragaret’s frown whenever she spotted it, but Emma refused to be alone without it. 

Not when she was a potential target for the supernatural.

And now, it looked like her fears were well-founded, because there was something inside the building that definitely wasn’t a bat. Emma had inched the door open, holding her breath so she could listen. She could hear something moving in the lobby, by the reception desk.

A deep, resonating growl that made a primal part of Emma want to scream and flee. Her grip tightened on the gun, and she started to raise it.

Then an annoyed chittering followed, which was interrupted by a yip of indignation. Supernatural, all right, but familiar.

Emma holstered the pistol and stepped inside.

A massive wolf was crouched next to the desk, eyes locked on the large fruit bat perched on the edge. The bat raised his head and made delighted squeaks, and the wolf offered a wag of the tail before turning her snarling muzzle back to the bat.

“No supernatural turf wars before I’ve had my coffee,” Emma grumbled. She picked Killian up and plopped him down atop the startled Ruby’s back, then headed towards the breakroom. Ruby padded along after, Killian clinging to her shoulders for dear life.

They both waited patiently as Emma brewed a pot of coffee. While she waited, she grabbed the fruit bowl from the fridge and offered it to Killian, who daintily grabbed a slice of banana and half a strawberry. Ruby’s tongue flicked out, snatching two melon cubes and getting saliva all over the fruit, making Killian shriek in indignation. Emma sighed. “Can we use human words now, please?”

The fruit bat clumsily pulled himself to Ruby’s side, then released his grip on her fur. If he’d been a normal crippled bat, Emma would have dove to rescue him. But the bat never hit the ground; instead, a leather-clad man crouched next to the massive wolf.

Ruby licked his face, smearing melon and saliva on his cheek. Killian sputtered, and she trotted off, making a noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

“How’d you piss her off this time?” Emma asked as she added cream and sugar to her coffee.

“What makes you think I’m responsible, Swan?” Killian pouted as he straightened. His hook gleamed in the fluorescent light.

“You turned into something small, helpless, and cute to argue with her,” Emma pointed out. 

“Which wasn’t enough to prevent me from being angry with you,” Ruby said as she re-entered the break room on two legs.

Now that Emma was in on her secret, Ruby had taken to leaving spare clothes at the Belfry in case of unexpected transformations. She returned shortly in human form, wearing a red T-shirt and black leggings. Her feet were bare, toes caked with dirt from her run. She made a beeline for the coffee pot.

“You’re late tonight,” Ruby commented. “Did something happen?”

“I spent all day at the Town Hall.” Emma couldn’t hold back her groan. “You wouldn’t think it would be so difficult to select an interim mayor. They just need someone to hold the position until an election can be held.”

The mayor had been found dead of a heart attack in his office two days previous, throwing the city council into an uproar. It was a headache that Emma really didn’t need. Especially since there was one member of the council famous for disagreeing with everything, and he’d loudly shot down every candidate. Several of the city council members were friends of his, and tended to follow his lead, which led to deadlocked votes. “He’s going to drive me insane,” Emma sighed.

“Leroy?” Ruby hazarded.

“Yep. Had an argument for everything. By the time the meeting was called, the council still hadn’t chosen anyone, and I almost went to the Rabbit Hole instead of coming here.”

“Sounds worse than vampire politics,” Killian snorted. “Though I imagine there’s less blood.”

“You’d be surprised,” Emma slumped into a chair, her exhaustion finally getting to her. “So what were you two fighting about?” 

Killian and Ruby exchanged glances. “A deer,” they said in unison. 

Emma rubbed the bridge of her nose, already sorry she asked. This was going to add to her headache. “And why was this particular deer so important? We’re surrounded by woods, there are hundreds of them around.

“I was hunting it, of course. A vampire can’t live on strawberries alone. And deer’s blood can sustain me for more than a week.”

“You didn’t have to choose my prey!” Ruby’s voice had developed a snarl not unlike her wolf’s vocalizations. “I’d been stalking that deer for more than an hour!”

“It was the only deer I’d scented for miles,” Killian defended. “And unlike you, I need live prey.”

Emma tensed, suddenly reminded that she was dealing with two supernatural predators. She reminded herself she’d seen Killian in bat form with his face buried up to his eyes in fruit, and that she’d once half-carried a drunken Ruby home. They were predators, but they had softer sides. Hell, she’d known Ruby since high school.

Ruby scowled and turned the other chair backwards, so she could sit on it with her chin resting on the headrest. She continued to glare at Killian.

“This isn’t your usual night for hunting.” Killian usually chose the nights where no one stayed overnight to go out.

“True; but that storm that’s brewing is going to hang around for a few days. I don’t fancy hunting in the rain.”

“Same reason I was out,” Ruby nodded. “I needed to get a good run in before being cooped up the next few nights. And deer are one of my favorite meals.”

Emma abruptly burst out laughing. At Killian and Ruby’s matching looks of bewilderment, she explained, “Sorry, I just thought about how it must look, seeing Killian stalk a deer when he’s dressed like a pirate.”

“He hunts as a wolf,” Ruby growled. “Which makes him a trespasser on my territory.”

“You can turn into a wolf?!” Emma asked incredulously, then wondered why she was so shocked. She’d been dealing with the existence of the supernatural for nearly a month now; she should be used to this, right?

“Aye,” Killian said, “vampires can become any creature of the night. Though we’re far more impressive than weres.” 

Emma wondered what was considered a ‘creature of the night’, especially since she knew wolves were frequently active during the day. Could he become an opossum? A raccoon? Maybe a cricket?

Vampire crickets, now there was a thought.

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Vampiric wolves look like how wolves were traditionally depicted: all snaggly teeth and glowing eyes. Werewolves, on the other hand, are perfect specimens of wolf: lithe and muscular, swift as the wind.”

“So… you’re like the goths and jocks of the wolf community?” Emma took a sip of her coffee to hide her amusement as she watched Ruby sputter indignantly. Killian simply smirked, flashing that chipped fang.

“Perhaps we should continue our tale, lass, before we end up at each other’s throats, aye?” Killian said softly, and Ruby calmed.

“Yeah.” Ruby shook her head as though to dispel the last vestiges of wolf. 

The change in tone put Emma on immediate alert. “What happened out there?”

“Something spooked the deer badly enough that it turned around and fled past us,” Killian said. 

Oh. That didn’t sound good. Emma set her coffee aside, suddenly too nauseous to finish it. “Did you investigate?”

“Yeah,” Ruby said. “We followed the deer’s path, and soon we could smell what had frightened it. It was…wrong. It made my hackles rise, and I was growling without even knowing at what. Killian and I crept forward, and that’s when we found it.”

“An altar,” they said in unison.

Ah. Emma doubted they meant the kind you’d find in a church. “Oh?” Her coffee was getting cold, she noted as she took a lingering sip.

“A witch’s ritual altar,” Killian clarified, staring at her intensely. 

“A witch? Of course they’re real, too,” Emma sighed. “How worried about this should we be?”

“I’m not sure yet. I need a better look at the altar and the sigils around it to get an idea of what sort of ritual was performed.”

“So you’re an expert in witches now?” Ruby arched a brow.

“No, but I can ask people who are, and for that, I need photos. We need to get back out there immediately and photograph the site.”

Neither would have had access to their phones’ cameras, of course. Ruby would have been a wolf, and while Killian could transform clothes along with his body, it only seemed to be the archaic black leather outfit he favored when he wasn’t pretending to be human. Objects like his phone or wallet didn’t survive the transformation.

“Swan, I’d like you to come along as well; I want to see how you react to the magic.”

When Walsh had tried to compel Emma, he’d discovered that she was immune to his vampiric powers. This intrigued Killian, because it was a very rare gift not found in pure humans. He was determined to figure out just what was in her bloodline.

Emma was less enthused about this. She didn’t have any interest in parents that had abandoned her as a baby. She only cared about David and his mother Ruth, who had taken her in when she was a feral street child and given her a home and love.

Plus, she really didn’t want to walk around the woods after dark. There might be ticks or something.

“Now? It’s almost midnight!” And the moon was only a crescent, meaning it would be dark as pitch outside.

“Aye, but there’s a storm rolling in. All the evidence will be washed away by morning. Likely by design,” Killian said.

Reluctantly, Emma grabbed her coat from the closet while Ruby went off to change back into a wolf. Despite the protection of a large wolf and a vampire, Emma felt a thrill of fear as they stepped away from The Belfry’s exterior lights and to the edge of the forest beyond.

Her flashlight did little to help.

“So… tell me about witches,” Emma said. “Just how dangerous are they?”

“Most witches are benign,” Killian corrected, surprising her. “Just women gifted with knowledge and a bit of magic. Many of them end up in positions where they can use their gifts to help others: doctors and nurses, veterinarians, financial advisors, that sort of thing. Some are hide amongst charlatans, using real magic and divination to tell futures or speak with the dead, though those are rare. Mostly, they just live among humans, leading normal - though perhaps luckier - lives.

“True practitioners of the black arts are rare. They’re hunted by their own kind, in much the same way I take care of out of control vampires. This one… the scent of her magic is rotten.”

“What can someone with that kind of magic do?”

Killian scratched his cheek with the tip of his hook as he thought. “They can create curses, give others ill luck, or even kill without touching their victim. We won’t know much more until my expert has had a look.”

There was silence for a while after that, as Emma tried to fit this into her already shaken worldview. Finally, she decided it was just too much for one night, and turned her thoughts to something else.

“Henry really enjoyed visiting your ship the other day. It’s all he’s been talking about ever since.” Henry’s class had taken a day to tour the ‘real’ pirate ship (which was, in fact, a very real pirate ship, captained by a very real pirate), and he’d come home asking for sailing lessons. Not possible so late into the season, but she’d promised him that if he was still interested next year, she’d look into it.

“He’s a fine lad,” Killian told her. “Smart, and curious about everything. I’d be delighted to teach him some sailing basics, if…”

If you give me a reason to stick around, Emma knew he was thinking. Because Emma knew it was more than the threat of a rogue vampire that kept Killian living as a bat in Storybrooke. And three nights ago, Killian had finally made his move to see if there could be anything between them.

“So, Swan, are you looking forward to tomorrow night?”

Ahead, Ruby slowed, canting back one ear. Emma thought at first something had put her on alert; then she realized her friend was eavesdropping.

Right. Tomorrow. When she and Killian had dinner reservations for Bella Notte. Their first date.

She’d never been so nervous.

She wanted to date Killian. But her violent introduction to the world of vampires had left her cautious. Even Ruby’s reassurance that vampire society worked as Killian had described, with strict laws and enforcers that carried out ruthless punishments for lawbreakers, she’d still been wary.

Walsh had been terrifying, but he’d been newly-turned. Weak. Killian was centuries old and powerful.

He also squeaked at her petulantly if she gave him banana slices when he wanted strawberries.

The rumbles of thunder that had begun when night fell were growing louder, and Emma was beginning to worry they wouldn’t make it to the altar in time. But after forty-five minutes of what felt to Emma like random stumbling around in the dark, Ruby let out a sharp bark.

“We’re here,” Killian said unnecessarily. Because Emma could feel the change in the air, something that made her hair stand on end. 

“The hell?” she asked.

“So you do feel it,” Killian sounded as if she’d just confirmed something for him.

How could anyone not feel that? It was a miasma that pressed against her, threatening to smother her.

She fought down the urge to claw at her skin, and forced herself to examine the altar.

If Emma had been walking through the woods alone, she never would have seen it - or at least not realized it wasn’t a natural formation. She ran the flashlight beam over a tree that had been split in half, probably by a lightning strike. One half had fallen to the side, the other was still attached to the stump, but bent at a ninety degree angle to form a natural table just over knee height.

The split trunk was spotted with dark stains. A fragment of bone was caught in a furrow in wood.

“I’ll hold the torch if you’ll take the photos,” Killian offered. Emma handed the flashlight over, and he directed her to photograph the altar, as well as the sigils she’d missed at first look. The were carved into the ground, or painted onto the trunks of surrounding trees with the same fluid that had stained the altar.

Killian was thorough. Emma wondered if he was like this with all investigations, because she could use someone like him in the Sheriff’s Department.

Thunder boomed, and Emma and Ruby jumped. “Storm’s almost here,” Killian observed. “We’d better leave now, before we’re caught out in it.”

They only just managed to make it back to The Belfry before the sky opened up. Emma was soaked through by the time she managed to unlock the door, and Ruby reeked of wet dog. Killian, she noted, managed to look ridiculously good even when wet.

The rain pounded away into the night, and Emma shivered. She hoped it would be enough to wash away the taint of evil in the forest.

~oOo~

The stranger stank of dark magic.

Emma had been in the back office of the sheriff’s station, taking care of paperwork, when David had called her up front.

Grateful to escape her papery hell, she’d hurried up front - only to be brought up short by the elegant woman in the immaculate business suit who was ignoring David’s attempts to be friendly. Emma, however, immediately drew her interest.

Dark eyes ran up and down Emma, and perfect lips turned down into a frown, as if she’d found Emma lacking. “Can I help you?” she asked stiffly.

“I just wanted to introduce myself. My name is Regina Mills,” the woman said haughtily. “I’m the new mayor of Storybrooke.”

~tbc~

[scrubbinn]

Mimic HRT: 16 months “Body dysmorphia”

“The mimic octopus, Thaumoctopus mimicus, the thing that has, in some way, become a part of me. At least it’s the thing mixed into my slime medication. It’s been about a week since I turned into a cocoon. Which, even the doc still doesn’t know why exactly that part happened. And while I'm glad it's over, I’m worried there's something else in this treatment that no one knows about. Last time I checked, cocoons have nothing to do with slimes or octopi… octopus? Oh this is going to bug me all day.”

“It's funny I don't consider that cocoon to be the strangest part. It’s that I’m oddly calm about the whole thing. It’s not like the calm before I started taking normal hormone replacements, that was like a film over me that left me unable to express emotions. Now, I just feel calm. Complete. Myself. I suppose I can no longer consider myself a slime, though I am still similar. I've been told that thanks to me, Mimic HRT is now being perfected and stocked for others as a type of shapeshifter medication. I really didn't expect to become a patient zero for something like this. I can’t complain too much, this body really is everything I could have wanted. I should probably explain. It’d be a good idea to go over all the new parts of me.”

“Alright, from the top… actually I don’t know if that works, I’m not exactly humanoid, not always at least. Oh, I guess we can start with that actually. Shapeshifting has become nearly second nature. The brain isn’t human anymore, so it’s not really that surprising that it’s become so easy to take different shapes. Everytime I enter a new room, the first thing I think to do is copy the appearance of the wall or some furniture, it’s just this predator ambusher mentality that feels so correct to morph into something else. Mimicking people or objects in motion is incredibly tiring, but inanimate objects are so much easier. It’s probably because Mimics don’t spend much time moving so it exerts way more energy. Like, you know how most video games you see mimics as treasure chests right? Well I’m sure there’s an answer about game design, but no, seriously, it’s because you get to just be a simple square shaped object without worrying about how many fingers or teeth you’re supposed to have or worry about how to move convincingly. I already know I’m convincing, I am a box! Look, sometimes you just gotta turn into a ball and do nothing for half the day and it just feels nice. It’s those times where I’m too exhausted to do anything so I spend the entire time pretending to be a couch. There are also times where I can’t help but move. When I know I’m safe in my bed, for example, I let all my extra limbs move on their own to find crevices between the mattress and pillows, it’s like I’m trying to find a hole to slide into for safety. Sometimes I also shift color and texture on my own without realizing, which has led to some awkward moments where I’ve jumpscared Abi about… pretty much every time she picks me up for a date."

“I did say mimicking living things was difficult but that doesn’t mean I'm constantly just a pile of goo and eyes on the floor. I have a humanoid form that I can enter with ease. It's a bit more cloudy than the normal sky blue of my previous form though. My hair has changed a lot too. It's still the same material and texture, but it's become flattened to something more ribbon-like. It's much longer too, reaching out to my back. I can move it now though. I can stretch them, widen, flatten, turn them into tubes, they can curl and soap up, and with just a little water, I basically look like I did before, just, with a bunch more, teeth and eyes.… Ok so yes, I might be missing a face where the typical one is and I just shift colors and textures to pretend I still have one. And maybe a few of these limbs are just weirdly shaped mouths, with teeth that snap at anything that gets too close. And perhaps I have dozens of eyeballs all over my body- Ok, ok, this is a lot actually, let’s go over this one at a time. Teeth first I guess. I've been finding them in various shapes and lengths all across the body, and they move around too, I think in total I've found seven. There might be an eighth, it's hard to really count, especially when they move and bite automatically. At least they know well enough not to try and eat anyone I like. Hear that Dr. Erian? Better be careful! Ha! Anyway, eyes have been easier to deal with. There's dozens that swim around my hair and body, they usually stay closed until a vibration hits one and then they all suddenly open up. 360 degree vision isn't something that's easy to describe. It feels… spherical? That's the best explanation I have. At least they blend in with the body so I don't have to worry about people constantly being terrified of me. As long as I can hide the teeth under clothing, and keep most of my eyes closed, I look like a normal slime. Hm, normal. Kinda lost normal from my vocabulary somewhere along the way. Normal doesn’t involve a month long metamorphosis”

“About the cocoon… I… no, we don't need to talk about it. We can talk about something else…”

“Oh! The brain, it's… unique, it's doing fine though. No more headaches for the most part. Abigail and I have been studying this thing a lot. It's kinda hard to call it a brain. It siphons out nutrients melted down in the goo and sends it throughout this body with what I call its root system. They're kinda like nerves, but I'm naming them roots, because it just sounds better and also cause it looks like there’s a giant potato growing in my head. Besides, I don’t think they help move the body like nerves, the roots pull and push through the body, rearranging themselves to where I need some nutrition or where there’s an injury. I know other slimes have a core that they can move around and even remove for a bit. Never heard of one moving on its own, and I'm pretty sure if this was removed, I'd die on the spot. It's so weird to think this thing is a brain and a stomach. It's definitely a brain. If the core is hanging out near my leg, that's where I feel the headaches. Oh right, it moves more than just the roots around. I don't think I can control it? Control it… ha, yeah like a human can control their own brain, why should I be so different…”

“Uh… so, the thing is… I uh, I have something to say, about… how I don't have anything to say right now. But I will later, when it's important! Because it isn't important right now. Let's talk about something actually important, like, like… Actually yeah. I do need to talk about something. Because I don’t know how to bring it up to Abi, or you Erian when we last met.”

“I'm, not acting right. I mean, I am acting right, for a mimic. But I don't know, I thought I'd be acting like a cute slime that was curious and ditzy and cute and someone who… people still liked. Abi hasn't said it, but I know she doesn't like the new me. It's understandable, I'm a lot less cute and a lot more, eldritch. That’s not fair to her, we still love each other, it’s just this change is, a bit much. I already mentioned hiding with camouflage and biting things automatically. But there's the fact I'm still missing my memories, and I think at this point it's clear I'm never getting them back. Not to mention making human memories isn't possible anymore. Everytime I think back on things. I don't look at memories like how I used to. I used to look back on them with emotions and feelings. But now, I can only view memories as things that tell me if something is dangerous or food. When it's neither, when it's family or friends, I feel nothing. My brain is animalistic, it's a solitary predator for a social life. Is it even possible for me to adapt to that? Maybe… maybe I should stop taking the medication. Stop here when I still can. Is that wrong of me? Am I less of an otherkin for wanting to cling to the remainder of this humanity? I don't know. I don’t know anything!”

“…I do know something. I know how I cocooned myself- Shit! I didn't mean- it’s ok, I'll just start a new record- I… no I need to talk about what happened at some point. It’s hard but I need to get it out of my head somehow. I just need some time before I can talk about it.”

“I need to talk about something happy. It's probably not coming across well but I am happy. I am truly, genuinely happy. Being a mimic hasn't stopped my soapy journey. I'm still a soap slime at heart and my slipperiness has only gotten more hilariously troublesome. Now that every part of this body is made of materials crafted to slip around, it's been fun to learn new ways to not bang my head on every wall. I'm actually being serious, it's kind of fun to slide everywhere, I feel like a kid again. Not to mention that sometimes Abi will just stick random aromatics in my hair and the whole room starts to smell like orange peel and pine. I know slimes are a more fantastical species but sometimes I do wonder how a soap slime would evolve in the wild. What would I do? Is the scent thing to lure in prey? To socialize with others of their kind? Maybe if I did fully become a slime, I'd get a nature documentary made about me. Being a slime is cool but mimics aren't bad either, there are some upsides to it. With all this control of my body, I finally feel like myself, when I need a different body type for my human form I don't need to think about it, it just happens, if I feel like being purple that day it just happens, different hair, different voice, different anything. I finally don't have to be forced into one thing. It feels like… it just feels, I feel everything better, from how sweet Abi's voice is, to the wind blowing through Hyper city, to the vibrations of the soft sounds of the night life. I am happy. I am really truly honestly happy.”

“ok, I'm ready to talk about it. About the cocoon. I can do this. I. Can. Do. This. It was just a day before it happened, that's when the pain started. I don't mean the pain of my brain being rewritten, or the pain of my skin dissolving. Those were bad, but what I experienced. It was indescribable. This started in the middle of the night. I couldn't sleep for the past two days from an aching body except for the brief moments of unconsciousness. Then all of a sudden, I felt a searing pain in my chest. I was delirious from exhaustion and the sudden jolt of fear wasn’t helping. I somehow got the idea that something foreign was growing inside my slime body, like a mold, and just like a mold, it spread. I could feel the misery move throughout my body into my limbs and neck. I think what I was feeling was the exposed nerves of my new teeth forming surrounded by solidified lye, but no, what I felt had no explanation. Nothing could ever fully rationalize what I felt that night. The torrent of agony eventually crawled into my head, I thought it was a nightmare. I did, things, in my panic, that I don't want to remember for this recording, and I don’t want anyone to learn about. Turns out mimics can get scars, that’s all I’m going to say. It felt like I was about to recede into nothingness, or disintegrate completely, either one would have been preferred over what actually happened. It just continued. It felt like different layers of pain where eventually I'd start to dissociate only for some new sudden jolt of pain to bring me back. Like every single one of my cells was popping one after the other. I couldn't even scream, I forgot I had no lungs and didn't remember how slimes even talked, I just laid there, unable to move, hoping somehow a doctor or witch would arrive to stop the pain. Eventually thinking became too hard. Every single micrometer of my insides and outsides were screaming, and I couldn't pass out. You could simply say it hurt and call it a day, and you would be wrong. Getting a scrap when you fall on the sidewalk hurts. This was hell. That's when it happened. I still don’t understand it. I mean it was probably the pain and exhaustion causing hallucinations and… I heard a voice. In my head I mean. It was so clear despite everything and I was struggling so hard to listen, but the voice was gentle. It taught me what to do to ease the pain. I followed its words. The next thing I remember was waking up next to Abi and my mother rushing in with a doctor. I think you were informed about the rest. Looking forward to the call I get from you about this one. End recording.”

* * *

“Good morning Ms.Mulberry, pleasant to see you in higher spirits than our last meeting.”

“Hello Theo. Let's make this meeting quick, Abi and I are going out in half an hour.”

“Blunt as ever. Fine then, I wish we could have had this talk sooner, but I believe we need to discuss the crossroads you've entered. I'm sure you've already heard about it and if you wish to skip right over I understa-”

“Tell me. Please.”

“Beg pardon? Well… ahem. There's a point in every transition that we refer to as a crossroads. What can best be described as a choice, we can put you on a much lighter dosage of your medication until your body is producing the correct chemicals to remain stable on its own. This would be the end of your transition. On the other hand, with your written consent, we would continue with your treatment's normal dosage until you fully become a mimic. This would most likely entail complete identity loss, and losing any part of you that could be called human. Depending on your sentience and level of aggression, you would be given over to the proper authorities to make sure the rest of your life is handled properly as per the agreement on the paperwork you signed.”

“...I.”

“You’ll have to make this choice soon, from your latest recording you may have already gone past your crossroad, but you still can turn back from here. I promise. If you wish, there are other things we can discuss. You mentioned a voice that appeared inside your head. Have you heard it since?”

“No, I haven’t. Sorry I’m not feeling great, could I go soon?”

“You’ve undergone a great deal of stress Ms.Mulberry. You look like you’ve barely slept in days, despite your claims to the contrary, you don’t appear to be very happy. You should probably seek a listening ear. I can get you in contact with a therapist who specializes in therian traumas.”

“Dr. Erian?”

“Yes Ms.Mulberry?”

“Am I a coward for wanting to turn back? Am I not actually otherkin? Am I just a leech for people who need this treatment more than me? I should want to continue right? Why do I suddenly care about the little of me that’s human? I don’t even remember when I was human! Why should I care? Why do I care? What am I?”

“You're brave Mayday. You're very brave.”

“I’d like to move to a lighter dosage.”

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