#this was spewed out of my exhausted brain

[phagodyke]

nvm im too tired and overstimulated for this shit

[absdollievu]

And they were roomates

nerdcollege!abby x femcollege!reader

“Room 302”

You can feel Abby’s eyes on you again—sharp, silent, disapproving. You’re sprawled across your bed, phone raised above your head, fingers moving fast as you send another voice note in the group chat.

“You ever gonna open that textbook?” Abby’s voice cuts through the room like a knife through quiet.

You roll onto your side and glance over. She’s at her desk, back straight, highlighter moving across a page like she’s painting a masterpiece. Her hair is pulled up into a messy bun, a few loose strands sticking to her forehead. She hasn’t looked away from the page, but she doesn’t need to. You already know the look on her face.

“I’m multitasking,” you say, gesturing lazily with your phone.

She finally looks up. “Multitasking?” She lifts an eyebrow. “Pretty sure TikTok doesn’t count as prep for midterms.”

You grin. “Hey, there’s educational content on here. I saw a guy explain quantum physics using cats and Red Bull.”

Abby closes her book with a loud thunk. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve been told that before.”

She exhales—more tired than annoyed. You think she might actually be used to you by now. It’s been three months, and despite your late-night voice calls, early morning music blasts, and a general aversion to productivity, she hasn’t requested a room change. Not once.

You sit up and cross your legs. “Wanna watch a movie instead? You look like you need a break.”

Abby narrows her eyes. “You’re trying to corrupt me.”

“I’m trying to save you. You’ve been studying since lunch. Your brain is gonna melt.”

She hesitates, and for a second, you think she might say no. But then she sighs, pushes back from her desk, and grabs the remote.

“If I fail this test because of you, I’m writing your name on my scantron.”

You snort. “At least we’ll go down together.”

And as the movie starts, and she finally smiles for the first time all day, you can’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—being annoying has its perks.

⸻

You’re out of breath, hoodie half-zipped, and the panic in your chest is loud enough to drown out your thoughts as you bang on the dorm door like your life depends on it. Because, honestly? It kind of does.

“Abby! Abby, open up! Please! I’m gonna die!”

The door swings open a few seconds later. Abby stands there in sweatpants and an oversized shirt, glasses perched low on her nose, a protein bar in one hand and her usual look of exhausted patience in the other.

You’re practically vibrating. “Midterms. Abby. I don’t know anything. I looked at my notes and it’s like ancient Greek.”

She blinks once. “So you’re finally realizing you’re screwed.”

“Yes! And I need you to unscrew me. Academically. Please.”

Abby takes a long, dramatic bite of her protein bar, chews, and then says, “No.”

Your jaw drops. “No?!”

“No,” she repeats, adjusting her glasses. “I’m walking to the café. I need caffeine. And distance.”

And with that, she steps past you and starts walking down the hallway like some calm, towering goddess of discipline and disappointment. You scramble to catch up.

“Abby. Abby, come on. You’re, like, my only hope. Everyone else is worse than me. Paulina thought the French Revolution was about baguettes. Please.”

She keeps walking, not even sparing you a glance as she pushes through the dorm exit and into the brisk air. “Should’ve thought about that before you decided to major in group chat politics instead of psychology.”

You groan. Loudly. The café’s across campus. It’s going to be a long walk. But you’re committed now. You trail after her, spewing every excuse and half-baked promise you can think of.

“I’ll buy you coffee! I’ll clean our whole room! I’ll go to class! I’ll—”

You reach the café’s doors just as Abby pulls one open. You tug gently on her arm, face scrunched in a dramatic plea. “Abby. If I fail, I’ll have to retake the class. With a professor who hates me. And I’ll cry. You hate when I cry.”

She pauses, hand still on the door. Her expression softens—just a little—and she exhales like this is the most exhausting favor anyone’s ever asked of her.

“Fine,” she mutters, holding the door open wider. “But I’m quizzing you over coffee. And if you get one question wrong, I’m making you delete TikTok for the rest of the semester.”

You gasp. “You are cruel. You’re cruel, Abby Anderson.”

And yet, as you both step into the warm, espresso-scented air of the café, you can’t help but grin. Because even when she rolls her eyes and pretends to hate you, she still shows up.

⸻

It’s been a few days since the café. Abby hasn’t said anything about how well you did, or how she’s been quietly rewriting her study materials so they make more sense to you—not the textbook. But you can feel it in the way she starts pausing after each card, letting you come to the answer in your own weird, roundabout way. She doesn’t roll her eyes as much. Doesn’t sigh as dramatically. Sometimes she even lets your ridiculous examples stand without correction.

Tonight, you’re in the dorm. Your side’s a mess, as usual. Her side? Not a single thing out of place—except for the fact that her desk is currently occupied by both your notebooks, two mugs of tea (hers mostly untouched), and a bowl of chocolate covered pretzels you brought in as a peace offering.

Abby sits across from you, legs crossed, pen tapping against her knee. Her glasses are slipping again. You wonder if she knows how often she pushes them up when she’s trying to hide a smile.

“Okay,” she says, holding up a card. “Explain confirmation bias.”

You lean back on your elbows and smirk. “That’s when you only look for stuff that proves you’re right. Like how I keep ignoring my grades and focusing on the one time a professor said I had potential.”

She snorts. “That’s… not wrong.”

“You’re smiling.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

She looks down at the flashcard. “Next question.”

But the corners of her mouth are still tugged upward, just a bit. She flips the card and throws you another one. “Defense mechanisms. Give me two.”

You hold up a finger. “Projection. Like when you get mad at me for not studying, but really you’re mad at yourself for how much you secretly enjoy our study sessions.”

Abby raises an eyebrow.

You add a second finger. “And denial. Like how you’re pretending you don’t love my sense of humor.”

She rolls her eyes so hard it almost counts as a stretch. “That’s not how those work.”

“It’s how I work.”

She looks up at you then, chin tilted slightly, and there’s something unreadable flickering behind her glasses—like she’s trying to figure you out, again. You hold her gaze a second too long before she glances away and pretends to reorganize the cards.

The air shifts, just a little. Not a full change. Not serious. But enough that the room feels warmer, more charged.

You break the moment with a grin. “What, no lecture this time?”

“I’m saving it for when you inevitably crash mid-sentence because you’ve been running on caffeine and chaos.”

“You care.”

“I’m invested in not watching you spiral.”

“You care a lot.”

She looks at you again. This time, it lingers. “Shut up and read the next definition.”

You don’t. Not right away. You study her instead—how she bites the inside of her cheek when she’s holding something back, how her fingers flex slightly when she’s annoyed and trying not to show it. How she doesn’t push you away when the flirting starts to sneak in like a slow drip. She just… lets it hang in the air.

You flip a flashcard.

“Okay,” you say. “Final question: which defense mechanism is it when you pretend not to like your annoyingly charming roommate?”

Abby lets out a sharp breath through her nose. Her mouth quirks into a reluctant smile, but she doesn’t look up. “That’s called repression,” she mutters, scribbling something in her notebook.

You’re grinning. “Interesting. Very, very interesting.”

She doesn’t say anything.

But her ears are a little red.

And she still hasn’t told you to stop.

⸻

The dorm’s gone quiet. Flashcards are stacked neatly on Abby’s desk, tea mugs mostly drained, and the study buzz has simmered into something slower, more still. You stretch, groaning dramatically, then grab your towel and shower caddy.

“I’ll be quick,” you say, already halfway to the door.

Abby doesn’t look up. “Please don’t flood the hallway again.”

“No promises.”

You disappear down the hall, the sound of the shower starting a minute later.

Abby brushes her teeth in silence in the bathroom while you’re showering. Taking a quick glance outside to your side of the room—half a disaster zone, half a lived-in mess she’s begrudgingly gotten used to. She spits, rinses, and wipes her mouth on the towel hanging by her bunk.

The shower shuts off.

You return, wrapped in a towel and rubbing at your damp hair, cheeks pink from the heat. You don’t say anything as you dig through your drawer for a sleep shirt, but Abby catches the slight grin on your face when you realize she’s watching and turns quickly back toward her bed.

You change with your back to her. Nothing dramatic—just cotton and routine and maybe a heartbeat that’s a little too loud for no real reason. You crawl into bed, exhale, and reach to turn off the lamp.

Darkness swallows the room in a soft, shared quiet.

“Goodnight, Ab’s,” you mumble into your pillow.

There’s a beat.

“Don’t call me that,” she says automatically, voice low.

You roll over slightly, just enough to peek through the dark. Waiting.

And then, softer:

“Goodnight.”

You smile, eyes already slipping closed.

Abby turns her face to the wall, tugging the blanket up—and hiding the small, involuntary smirk that’s found its way to her lips.

⸻

[jolynesmom]

reasons you’re unable to enter the void or shift while lucid dreaming or in sleep paralysis

recently I received a couple of messages from followers and other blogs explaining how, when they were in sleep paralysis or lucid dreaming, were unsuccessful in reaching the void or shifting after stating their intentions

this also happened to me a couple of times, seemingly at random; sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t

I did a bit of research and also analyzed my own experiences to figure out the root of the problem and how to fix it:

you’re not completely grounded/you’re rushing

this took me an embarrassing amount of tries to realize this, but every time I’m lucid dreaming or feeling myself entering the void, I would instantly start to spew out my intentions/desires instead of completely grounding myself in there and I would be instantly kicked out from that state. I guess it just doesn’t work that way — you have to be completely grounded in your ld or sp for your desires to manifest

a lot of you (me included) get so excited or scared when realizing we’re in a certain state that the connection, I guess, breaks. as an example, when I wasn’t very knowledgeable on the void state I entered it and chilled there for like 10-15 minutes before exiting willingly, but after discovering it can be used for shifting or manifesting I could barely spend 10 seconds there before waking up unintentionally

mental exhaustion

your psyche is exhausted and it simply can’t proceed the instructions anymore. imagine you stay awake for more than 24 hours and someone asks you to do a task that requires concentration and precision. would you be able to do it perfectly? I highly doubt

to get over this issue you need to take a serious break, and I don’t mean you can’t attempt anything for a day or two, I mean a BREAK — don’t even think about shifting or entering the void and chill and sleep as much as possible. I mean it, especially sleeping! fix your sleep schedule or sleep lots for 2-3 days

after you start your attempts again, if the first few instances are unsuccessful, you need to take another break before continuing, otherwise you risk of repeating the same scenario over again — reaching your desired state but not being able to do anything from there due to mental strain

brain activation trigger

brain activity changes — realizing you are dreaming changes how your brain works, especially in parts that help you think about yourself and make decisions. these changes can wake you up; knowing you are dreaming can make you feel excited or surprised - these strong feelings can wake you up too

mental blockages and expectations

your subconscious mind might have doubts or fears regarding the process. if you unconsciously expect that your attempts won’t work or fear the consequences of them working, this can create a mental block — this is actually more common than people think and a lot of you don’t even realize you have these blockages

overexcitement

if you become too excited or anxious about the possibility of your desires manifesting, this can trigger your body to wake up. remaining calm and composed is very important (even though we can’t help ourselves at times). overexcitement goes hand in hand with other strong emotions such as fear, so make sure you’re in a neutral state

subconscious programming

your subconscious might need more time and positive reinforcement to accept and integrate the idea of shifting realities, entering the void or manifesting desires. using affirmations, subliminals and visualizations regularly can help reprogram your subconscious mind

timing

certain times of the night or stages of sleep might be more conducive to successful lucid dreaming/sleep paralysis and shifting. experimenting with different times and conditions can help you so much!!

as an example: I have an easier time entering the void by meditating at night after 1 a.m., but I have an easier time doing wbtb and lucid dreaming between 8-11 a.m.

I honestly think that what can help you overcome this is self reflection — a lot of you search for answers but never bother to answer them yourselves. by self reflecting throughout my journey has helped me identify my weaknesses, how to fix them, what works for me and other tricks to speed up the process or make it more enjoyable

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Motivation

(Part 2)

—

Time Written- 10:23 p.m.

I wrote this 3 times and gave up. Severely gave up

—

“Wakey Wakey, sweetheart.” His lightly exhausted tone nearly roused your eyes open.

A faint click of a bedside lamp invades the silence shortly before Jason shuffles out of bed, displaying a warm glow to your light sensitive vision.

A small groan falls from your mouth, your eyes shutting closed in irritation from the distraction of your comfort. His arms left their sanctuary around your waist, a kiss of warmth remaining along your tummy before he readjusted a soft, thin blanket over your tired body.

Jason was considerate enough to turn off his alarm nearly three minutes before it goes off, saving his special girl a few minutes of precious sleep. As the midsummer sun dies down behind fluffy clouds, golden rays of light reflecting off skyscraper glass into the dead of the night, Gotham’s wild crowds creep out from their crooked caverns to play.

“Hey mama. Sorry to ruin the fun, but I think my arm ran out of blood flow.”

“Do you need it?” Your faint, croaked rumble spews from your barely moving lips.

“I mean, I suppose I’ll need it to fight an’ aim guns at unlucky bastards. Guess that means you gotta lose the pillow.”

Another groan leaves your lips before reluctantly raising your head, setting his arm free from its prison. You spent a minute of quiet suffering before Jason’s fingers cupped your head, guiding you to raise it just enough to slip a fluffy pillow to settle your pretty brain on.

The A/C was on full blast, the blank noise lulling your tired minds to sleep around seven. While it was counterintuitive to be snuggling together in this hot summer heat, you wanted nothing more than to be in his company, comfortable in his safety.

Bare feet shuffling along hard foot floor shifts to heavy rubber soles as Jason gets dressed. Soft cotton and polyester drops to the ground, replaced with tactical fabrics and scrunching leather. A short sonnet of clicks and snaps follow as he adjusts his belt and holsters, getting everything comfortably situated on his person.

“You’re not angry with me, are ya?” He clicks his tongue, fighting off a smile at your lack of response.

“Earth to Goddess.” His calm voice invades your ears as the floor creaks, the dressed vigilante shuffling to his knees beside the bed, settling close to your face.

“Princess.” Jason lightly chimes, brushing your cheek with the back of his pointer finger.

He then proceeds his ever loving assault via planting various kisses along your face, ranging from your cheek up towards your forehead, back down to your nose.

“Babygirl.” He cooes against your sweet smelling hair.

“Do you have to go now?” Came your eventual, irritated whine.

He leans forward, mattress gently creaking as he pressed his lips just under your ear for a quick kiss. “Not yet. You got me for five more minutes.”

Jason settles his head on your collarbone, your nose slightly tickled from locks of soft, dark hair. His eyes are closed, but for once, they’re content with peacefulness. That, and the events that would come within the next month, changing their lives forever.

Jason’s smile widens as your fingers mindlessly trails random shapes along his open palm, your hands always lingering somewhere along his body.

“Y’know I’d give just about anything to get back in bed with you,” his armored chest rumbles with his lowly spoken words. “But, I’m a little big in this get up to be this close to you at the moment. Don’t wanna crush you.”

Those sudden words couldn’t help but make you smile, scoffing just a bit. Ever the doting, overly concerned, slightly overdramatized, loving man he is.

“I don’t know who’s bigger right now,” your exhaustion let you speak in ghostly whispers. “You, or me.”

“Well, you’re the pregnant one,” he says, fighting off a strong, snarky remark with an amused smirk. “So, you definitely take the win with that.”

The look you gave him the second your eyes snapped open made him chuckle, as if he willfully insulted you. The irony of it, considering he was around 6’4 and 250 pounds, a large percent being complete muscle mass while you carried a seven pound baby.

“Kidding, babe. Kidding,” he soothes, trailing a few fingers along your swollen tummy just over the blanket. “Just trying to joke off the nerves. Doesn’t help that it’s my first time…”

“It better be your first time,” you mutter under your breath.

“Yeah yeah, It is. Don’t worry.” Jason’s voice is soft, his cheeks turning a light shade of red at that, and he can’t help but smile as the two of them laugh quietly at her joke.

The weight of their child is a constant pressure on your body to create an incredible miracle. It’s certainly something new, he always wants to make sure his little mama is happy and healthy. Mostly happy.

He trails a finger down your stomach, pausing when he feels a faint thud near the round lower edge of his palm. For eight months teetering on the edge of nine, the baby was definitely getting active.

“Think your boy’s getting ready to fight those unlucky bastards with you.” You lightly chide with a small grin.

“Language, mama,” Jason retorts, flicking some wisps of hair away from your head. “Don’t want ‘em to hear those foul words. An’ I’m not in the market for sidekicks.”

You frown again, scoffing at his hypocrisy.

The surrealism was intense, affecting him from the center of his brain towards the tips of his hands and toes.

Your boy, his boy. His son.

“You two keep the bed warm for me.” Jason murmurs before pressing a few goodbye kisses along your cheek. “I’ll come back with breakfast when you wake up, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, consciousness struggling to remain afloat. It’s a silly mental image; the reaction of the owners of an early bird, go-to diner frantically scrambling out of shock and awe when Red Hood himself enters their establishment.

He stands from the floor, lovingly glancing down at his beautiful, pregnant woman cradled in bed, nestled with his pillow, perfectly content.

“Be safe,” you whisper to him, watching him reach towards the lamp to shut it off. The warmth of the vanished lap changing his eyes from a strong emerald green back towards a crisp, steel-cut teal.

“I love you.”

Your voice always sweetened the deal, a perfect lullaby once it was his turn to sleep.

The perfect motivation for him to look forward to every morning.

“Love you too, mama.”

[dontmakemechooseanli]

Chapter One- When the World Ends

Poly! Love and Deep Space LIs X MC!Reader

Words: 2.1k

Major Character Death, Grief and Canon Divergence (kinda you’ll see)

Okay after a pretty great reception on the imagine I spewed from my brain last night I wrote I have put together a better more edited version of the idea. Plan is for this to be more romantic than depressing but I love angst. All the comments are read and loved and your reblogs bring me immense joy and writing power so I appreciate you!!!

When the day started there had been no hint that the world would be ending. But when was there ever? The citizens of Linkon had lived through the apocalypse once and while that should prepare you- it hadn’t prepared them.

Jenna had given you a last minute assignment to check out a small metaflux disturbance in a residential park not far from the Bloomsdale district.

“It’s probably nothing but better safe than sorry. Xavier has left for the evening but I am sure he wouldn’t mind to come back if you want me to call him-”

“No worries, Captain. I’ll call if it gets to be too much- promise!”

You hadn’t even gotten the chance. It was a small metaflux disturbance. Nothing too difficult to handle and quickly dispatched without incident. You had even been excited to text your loves about how your weekend stretched out in front of you. That the last thing you had done at the end of a long week was settle an easy disturbance- safely and, more importantly in their opinions, without getting yourself hurt.

You could picture them so clearly: Xavier already camped on your couch- head lolling to one side, delivery app open and forgotten on his phone as the text pinged him. Rafayel spamming pictures and videos of the newest seagull choir demanding your attendance at the Concert of a Century tomorrow. Caleb’s reply- delayed but excited for you- “My ever capable Sunny Apple- protecting the peace! Proud of you Pips- don’t stay up too late! :)” Sylus always called immediately- the man always preferred hearing you but you knew it was also his way of making sure you made it home safe. You could practically see the subtle eye roll Zayne would give you over video call later that evening- “You have to stop rushing into these things, what if something happened?”

But you never made it home that night.

The last thing you felt was the strong buzz of energy and a sharp pain in your chest. You clutched your chest and choked on your air- you couldn’t breathe. You panicked.

“Distress Activated Emergency Protocol Engaged. Abnormal Vitals Detected. Emergency Services Deployed. Please Wa-”

The world went dark.

Zayne had been on his feet for 9 hours when his pager began to beep the code blue signals.

Friday’s were a heavy surgery day for the cardiac surgeon- the last day of scheduled surgeries and preparing mentally for a weekend of emergencies. The residents were almost always exhausted and antsy by this point in the week so Dr. Zayne had to be in perfect form to ensure all his patients were receiving the best care possible.

He was finishing his floor rounds with a small bounce in his step. Dr. Greyson was on call Sunday meaning that he was looking at a glorious day off with you. It would be the first in a while that you both had an entirely free day together and in normal fashion it was booked with restaurant visits and a trip to a newly opened arcade to “scope out the competition” (aka you needed to get a lay of the land to figure out who you would need to beat to ensure you had the high scores on the fps stalls).

He was strolling into his office- phone already in his hand to text you about your day when the beeping began.

Code Blue: Y/N L/N

Li Room SR 2A

He didn’t even think he just moved.

If you asked him what the next fifteen minutes of his life had entailed he would have no answer for you. He had, run (probably- he was panting by the time he) scrubbed in (probably- his hands were gloved and taped, his hair capped and his gown on when he) held your heart in his hand.

He had never done this before.

No, he had.

He had.

He had never done this successfully.

He was only a man. A man with a needle and thread and tears in his eyes. Greyson was home and there was no time for ethical considerations that would come later. Would come after.

8:52 PM

He doesn’t know when he ended up on the floor. His breaths coming raggedly through his mask, his hands shaking tugging it off, his gown slipping and his evol slowly spiraling out of his control.

The air frigid as Yvonne leans her hand down to attempt to help him up.

He doesn’t even see her.

He sees you. Small, missing teeth- words slurring as you cry. Your popsicle had melted. He had never felt the need to help another like he did at that moment. His small hands had grabbed yours and with a single touch the blue sweet treat had refrozen.

You had looked at him like he saved the world- like he was a hero.

He hears you- slightly bigger now, all your teeth grown in, swinging gently on the swing explaining to him why your family was overbearing.

“It’s a heart thing. It’s weird? When the world ended my heart should’ve stopped. It didn’t though. Takes more than that to stop me.”

“Isn’t it scary?”

“Not really. I mean it makes me cooler I think. At least that’s what Caleb says.”

You- grown and beautiful and smiling- meeting him again. Demanding his time, his attention, his care. He feels himself falling for you.

Over and over and over again.

“Dr. Zayne. You need to call it. We’ve passed the standard time of care. I can call-”

Beep…… beep….beep…beep

Everyone in the room stilled. Then in a blink of an eye Zayne was up.

When the time for questions to be answered this would be the only thing everyone could agree on. Your heart had stopped. Your brain function has ceased. You had gone a full 30 minutes without breathing on your own when it happened.

Your eyes flew open. A blinding light, a sterile room, and a teary face loomed over you.

You smiled, eyes widening feeling sad for this sad man. You raised your hand which he quickly grabbed.

“Don’t cry. It’ll be okay.”

“Y/N- do you know where you are? Do you know what happened?”

You hummed in response. “Hm? No. I don’t know. What is going on Mister? Don't be sad.”

The man’s eyes widened and you heard the others bustling around and the man was taken from your side. A kind eyed woman slipped a mask over your face-

“It’s okay Honey. Everything is okay. Now count with me. One… Two… Three”

The consult room looked like the punch line of a terrible joke.

Xavier- usually nearly glowing- had his shirt on backwards and no shoes on. He had simply appeared outside the hospital moments after the initial alarms on his Hunters Watch began. His presence seemed to darken the already dim room.

Rafayel was pacing and had been a flurry of movement since the sharp pain in his chest that was accompanied by a slight glowing red that still peeked out from under his unbutton shirt. Normally he was content to sit and stew (you had always called it pouting but he was contemplating thank you very much) the nervous energy that flowed through him was only going to be extinguished one of two ways and the only socially acceptable version was to allow the man to pace the perimeter of the room.

Sylus was a barely contained ball of rage- all the money and influence in the world and no one would tell him what was happening. The doctor will be in there soon. The nurse had not taken it well when he had tried to explain that half of his soul was ripped out and he would make it everyone’s problem very soon if someone didn’t fucking answer him.

Caleb was the last one to arrive at the hospital. His sleek black Colonel uniform and steady footsteps passing through the doorway in a manner that seemed to suck the air from the room. His eyes wide and frantic, the vein directly under his purple irises jumping in time with his frenetic pulse.

The room was silent- even Rafayel’s ceaseless pacing was halted momentarily. The men were all aware of each other. All aware of how entangled each other were with each other through you. When imagining how they would inevitably meet most had pictured a dinner table or a brawl not an Akso Hospital Patient Consult room.

Caleb, always the force to be reckoned with, broke the silence first.

“Where is she- I swear I’ll-”

The door abruptly opens, knocking directly into the Colonel’s outstretched hand. Zayne- looking uncharacteristically shaken and haunted- peers at the strange group. Faces he had seen through Moments posts, had heard stories of, had always known he would meet (or see again in the case of his once dead childhood friend) all stared at him in various stages of grief, duress and anger.

“Zayne.”

“She’s alive.”

There is an exhale.

Xavier relaxes slightly into the pleather chair he is sat in- rustling his legs which had become nearly molded to the fabric as he had sat as still as a statue for what felt like centuries. The chaotic energy that buzzed around Sylus dissipates slightly. Air returns to the room on Caleb’s exhale. Rafayel’s shoulders release and his pacing shifts into an unsteady sway back and forth like he may pass out.

“Great.” Sylus purrs, standing to his full height, his practiced facade snapping securely into place, taking a steady step towards the door. “Where is sh-”

“She doesn’t remember who she is. She doesn’t know where she is. She died. And then she- well- she came back. We don’t understand.”

Zayne feels detached. He feels a million miles away. He was trying to stay strong- to find a logical explanation for everything. But deep down he felt his entire reason for being crumbling. He had spent his whole life working so he could save you (from melting popsicles, from himself and his unstable evol, from your own heart) and he failed. He had worked for over a decade so he could hold your heart safely in his hands. And he failed. The only test that ever truly matter and he failed.

Xavier has lost her again. He had waited over 200 years to see her again. He was able to love her openly and freely only for her to be stripped from him again. Was the cosmic justice for leaving? Was this the timeline righting itself? How many times can his tired soul bear the brunt of watching you fall in love with him again? How many more times can he take it?

Sylus felt the wound in his chest reopen. He had not ever allowed himself to think of the pain you must have suffered after killing him. After he had changed your fate- he had taken the choice from you because it was not one he could make himself. Better to take himself from the equation altogether- to rewrite fate himself. He had only just gotten you back- his little sorceress with fire in her veins and spitfire on her tongue- and now he would start over again? Would you be able to forgive him again? Would you be disgusted by him again?

Caleb bends at the waist and falls to his knees, clutching his stomach. He is going to be sick. He feels the bile tickle at his throat as he fights his own mind, as he wrestles for control of his emotions. He has to be strong- but he doesn’t know if he can be strong for the both of you anymore. Can he hold on with his fractured and broken mind to the memories of you happy and free and in love? If he forgets will there be anyone who remembers left? He has done this before but he has forgotten what this feels like- this nauseous grief that nearly resets him. But he can't because you need him. Don’t you? You need him right?

Everyone is so solidly grief stricken for a moment they don’t pay attention to Rafayel’s easy smile and his lack-a-daisical saunter out of the room, passing a kneeling Caleb and a wheezing Zayne. They were only brought into focus when they hear a soft scoff and quiet words:

“Amateurs. What, like it’s your first time? Expected better from the others her heart had chosen but looks like I’ll take the lead on this one. Thanks guys.”

He is out of the room and down the hallway before anyone can stop him; humming softly to himself.

“Hi, cutie. It’s gonna rain tonight better grab another blanket for ya.”

A/N: wrote this in 2 long sessions so the next part will hopefully be up soon as I sort of already know what the plan is for that.

If you don’t like lead X lead or polycule situations heads up that is where this is leading sooooooo

In this house we know all of their hearts are big enough for all this love

[cursedcanon]

Brainrot

In which you speak brain rot to them for hours.

Characters: Gojo ,Choso, Sakuna , Geto, Toji, Nanami, Yuji , megumi

Gojo Satoru:

At first, he’s loving it. He thinks it’s hilarious and actively encourages you. “Oh? You’re on your Skibidi grindset today? Lemme join in.” You two are unstoppable—he starts randomly hitting the Skibidi dance mid-conversation, dabbing after every joke, and calling himself the “Rizzler of Jujutsu” unironically. But after hours of nonstop brain-rot, it starts getting to him. You hit him with, “Gojo, be honest… do I have W rizz or L rizz?” He freezes. A bead of sweat rolls down his temple. “Wait. What does that even mean?” He realizes he has no idea what you’re saying anymore. You’ve fried his brain beyond repair.

Choso Kamo:

You’ve been spewing brain-rot all day, and Choso is just standing there, confused as hell. His eyes narrow as he tries to process your words. “Skibidi… rizz?” You nod enthusiastically. “…What does that mean?” You explain it to him. Slowly. Painfully. With a PowerPoint presentation. Choso listens so seriously—arms crossed, deep in thought, nodding occasionally. He’s trying so hard. When you finish, he just blinks. “…I don’t understand.” You tell him, "It’s okay, bro, it’s just rizz." Now he looks even more lost. Later, he asks Yuji for help, only for Yuji to respond, “Oh, it’s just brain-rot, bro.” Choso has a headache for the first time in his life.

SAKUNA:

You’ve been spitting brain-rot all day. Sukuna ignored it at first, thinking you’d eventually run out of steam. But no. You’re only getting worse.

Then, you decide to take it one step further. You straddle his lap, cup his face like he’s the love of your life (which he is, but still), and say:

“Sukuna, you got that ancient, demon king W rizz.”

The room falls dead silent.

The air immediately shifts.

Sukuna just stares at you. Blank. Expressionless. His eye twitches. “…What.”

You double down. “Like, you’re literally the original Rizzler. The first-ever sigma male. The blueprint.”

You can see the exact moment he loses faith in humanity.

“That’s it.” He grabs you, effortlessly tossing you over his shoulder.

“W-Wait, where are we going!?” you laugh, kicking your feet.

His voice is low and filled with menace. “I’m sacrificing you to the shrine.”

He actually starts walking. He fully intends to leave you there until you learn your lesson.

You keep laughing. “Damn, now I got that shrine imprisonment rizz.”

He almost throws you out the window.

Geto Suguru:

At first, he just chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re really something else.” But the more you talk, the more concerned he gets. You hit him with, “Bro, you got that villain arc W rizz.” He physically pauses. “…My what?” You explain. You elaborately explain. He’s genuinely horrified. “This is what non-sorcerers spend their time on? Maybe Gojo was right. Maybe I do need to touch grass.” After hours of listening to your nonsense, he’s just staring at the sky, reevaluating his life choices. You pat his shoulder. “You good?” He sighs. “No.”

Toji Fushiguro:

Toji does not acknowledge a single thing you say at first. He’s heard you spewing brain-rot for hours, and he’s just sitting there, arms crossed, chewing on some food, refusing to engage. But then—then you hit him with, “Toji, you got that fatherless sigma grindset rizz.” He freezes mid-bite. Slowly turns to you. Stares. Deeply. “…What the hell did you just say?” You repeat yourself. He leans forward. “You tryna get killed?” You keep going. “Bro, be honest, do I have W rizz or L rizz?” That’s it. He’s done. He gets up and leaves. Actually walks out the door, gets in a car, and drives off. You don’t see him for a week. When he finally comes back, he just mutters, “Never again.”

Nanami Kento:

You first drop brain-rot on him at 6:01 PM. He has already had the worst day of his life. And now you’re in his ear going, “Nanami, be honest. Do you think Gojo has unspoken rizz?” He just stares at you. Long. Hard. Exhausted. “I don’t know what that means, and I don’t want to.” You don’t stop. You keep going. You ask if he’s on his Skibidi sigma grindset. His grip on his tie tightens. His eye twitches. “I am leaving.” And he does. He actually walks out, books a flight, and vanishes for three days. When he comes back, Gojo asks where he went. Nanami just rubs his temples. “Somewhere far, far away.”

Yuji Itadori

He is ALL IN. He matches your energy immediately. You hit the Skibidi dance? He’s hitting it twice as hard. You say, “Yuji, you got that goofy ahh rizz.” He gasps, clutches his chest, and dramatically falls to the floor. “BRO, YOU TOO!?” You two start communicating entirely in brain-rot. Megumi walks in, sees both of you doing the Skibidi toilet dance in sync, and immediately turns around and leaves. Later, Nanami finds out and actually looks disappointed. Yuji just grins. “Sorry, Nanamin, but we’re on our sigma grindset.” Nanami looks like he’s about to drop-kick him.

Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi already has to deal with Gojo’s nonsense every day. But now? His own partner is speaking pure brain-rot, and he doesn’t know how to cope. At first, he tries to ignore you. Pretend he didn’t hear it. You hit him with, “Megumi, be honest, would you still love me if I was a Skibidi toilet?” He slowly turns to you, staring blankly. “…What?” You repeat the question with full confidence. He just buries his face in his hands. “I need a moment.” Later, when you're cuddling, you mumble, “Lowkey, you kinda got that mysterious, broody rizz.” He physically tenses. “I swear to God, if you say ‘rizz’ one more time—” But the moment you give him puppy eyes, he just sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “…I love you, but you are genuinely the worst.”

[darkwaveho]

Mini Burden

Summary: The aftermath of Natasha doing the unthinkable to her daughter.

Mob!Natasha Romanoff x reader, Mob!Natasha Romanoff x Oc!daughter

Warnings: hurt comfort, angst?, mentions of abuse, mentions of spanking, ptsd?, unpacked truama, fluff?

Previous part

series masterlist

It’s been a week and every day since Natasha has blown up your phone with calls and messages, you've ignored them all. Even blocked her number all together. That didn't stop her from using an unknown number. The last few days you had to shower Anastasia with a lot of tender care. It was a pretty traumatic experience for her. Not used to being on the receiving end of a harsh slap or harsh words can really break you down mentally no matter the age. This memory will forever be burned into your brain, the thoughts of you holding her while she asks why her mama hit her or why did her mama hate her. Her curious mind has questions, and she needs the answers, but the truthful answers are only ones Natasha can give.

Your mind drifts away to these thoughts while you're giving Anastasia a bath. It takes for a flick of warm water to your face for you to come back to reality. You gasp immediately from the contact as Anastasia laughs. “Alright, sweet pea time to get out now.” she immediately hits you with a small, adorable pout. “A few more minutes mommy, please?” she has been in here long enough usually you use the finger prune method for her bath time, and her tiny fingers are way past the pruning stage. You sigh, not really seeing the herm in a few more minutes but you're exhausted. You've been taking Anastasia to school from this hotel, getting her ready, making dinner, breakfast, and lunch. It was a lot on you to do with your mind being elsewhere.

Not only has Natasha been bugging you Yelena has as well, she didn't take up for Natasha, but she also did not fully side with you, she didn't agree with what Natasha did, but she also thinks that you're overreacting for a small pop on the butt. You can't believe you are the only one with sense in this situation in the entire family dynamic. A knock at the door pulls you back out of your mind; you turn back to Anastasia as she waits for your response to her question that you never answered.

“A few more minutes and you’re out princess, I don't want my baby all pruned forever.” you don't shut the bathroom door as you leave out of your room just in case something happens, you're able to be alert and quick. As you make your way to the hotel room door you pause. Contemplating what you were going to do next. You didn't want to cause a scene, but you also don't want to deal with this. Through the peephole you see Natasha standing on the other side waiting patiently for you to open the door. God she can never take a hint and just let things play out, she can never just allow you space and for you to come back on your own after an argument or misunderstanding. Reluctantly you open the door, the immediate change in Natasha's demeanor shows. She’s attempted to straighten up her posture to look more confident, but you see through it. Just taking one look at her you know she’s not her usual self.

“Hey.” Natasha releases a small breath, a relief of seeing your face even if it wasn’t being reciprocated by you. It doesn’t make sense to ask how she found you, you know how. You’d never be able to fully slip away from her no matter how hard you try. You don’t answer her, you simply stare back into her waiting for her to get to the point. Waiting to hear her excuses, apologies, or if she’d spew out more harmful nonsense like she did a few days ago. She looks tired, determined and broken behind her eyes. It’s clear to her that you don’t want to speak to her yet, if at all. So, she gets to the point of her being here.

“I would like to speak with Ana.” her initial response shocks you, she isn't even attempting to coax you into forgiving her first she’s direct about her mission tonight. She's here to fix things with Anastasia first. She’s asking, not demanding. Her ego and her power trip must’ve worn off within those three days of an empty house. you're still not sure about her request. The aftermath of everything took a huge toll on Anastasia. You're not sure how she’ll react to Natasha, if she wanted to see her or if she even felt safe enough to be near her own mother again. Natasha can see you pondering on it; she knows the word ‘no’ is right at the tip of your tongue. So, she does the one thing that she knows will get you to soften up. “Please.”

I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Shake your head and cross your arms as a protective response, this might be too soon of a conversation to have.

“Look I know I said some shitty things to you and about the way you parent. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for questioning your methods and putting blame on you because I didn’t know what to do in that situation or how to handle it.” Your silence is deafening to her. The desperation is real and slowly releasing from her body. “Y/n.” She searches for your eyes. She wants your approval, she needs it. “I just want to talk to her. To see her.”

A heartfelt and genuine apology you can count on one hand how many times you’ve received an apology like that from her. This was different, she struck her daughter. She frightened her and you as well. The moment of contemplation is nearly over. The final judgment is about to come out of your mouth, but warm, sweaty hands take hold in yours but between lies a crumpled texture. When you see the image in your hand the breath you release is involuntary. The painful memories are all coming back. You never wanted to see them again, hell you never wanted to take those photos of her in the first place. Never in a million years did you think that she would open the file. She’s been so good at running away or compartmentalizing her trauma.

It also pains you that she went through this trauma again alone. You want to say more you want to be there for her but you’re not sure if this is the right timing. This is bringing a whole new baggage into Anastasia’s world. A world where someone hurt her mama, a world where not only would she visually see it in her mind but physically on an old Polaroid picture. You can only shake your head hoping to rid yourself of those thoughts.

You clear your throat trying to remain firm on your stance but the sight in front of you makes it hard. Natasha stands in front of you with vulnerable eyes and you’ve noticed the subtle twitch of her fingers the moment you opened the door, all signs of her nervousness and anxiety. “Please.” She pushes again with that word. She’s trying hard not to break down right now; she'll save it for when she’s back home alone drowning in her own darkness. She relieved her past trauma alone in that house for three days with no comfort. The reality of it is you don’t know the reaction your daughter will have. You step back, and from the looks of it Natasha expects you to open the door for her entrance however she’s clearly mistaken when the door slams in her face. She stands there with her mouth gaped and her mind racing with all the ways she could have said something better. How she could have had a better outcome. She snaps out of her own head when the door opens again, this time with more than enough room for entry. “Dramatic much?” She’s snarky as she walks into the room. “Very.” You’re dismissive with her words, she's here to make amends with her daughter, you on the other hand will not be so forgiving, that takes a proper conversation between you two. You swiftly turnaround ignoring the way Natsaha's gaze lingered on your body. “I don't want her seeing that photo.” you point towards Natasha's jacket pocket.

The rim of the polaroid sticking out of her pocket haunts you with memories of your own that you wish to have erased. Natasha takes that as relief, she’s stared at the photo enough the past few days to become sick from it. She wouldn’t want to bring more of her past trauma and dump it on Anastasia anymore than she already has. Natasha nods her head in agreement with you and the award silence and tension fills the room. You quickly find an excuse to exit from being under her gaze. A soft, vulnerable Natasha is a weakness that you fear you will never be able to truly resist. You nod towards the door behind you. “She’s just finishing up her bath.” Natasha nods in understanding knowing how hard it is to get Ana out of the bath sometimes. Natasha grins at the thought but still awkwardly looks around the luxury hotel room doing anything to avoid your gaze. She feels like a guilty puppy right now. “You don’t have to stand, you know.”

“I’m fine.”

“You need to relax, you’re fidgeting Natasha.” She looks down at her fingers and instantly stalls her movements. She hadn’t realized she was doing that. “I’ll be back, sit down Nat.” You nod towards the sofa and leave her with a look that was not up for debate. Natasha sits down and thinks about what she wants to say to her daughter and most importantly how she wants to say it.

“Hey, monster.” Natasha's greeting receives no response, just a blank stare as if the young girl is looking at a stranger. Still Natasha pushes through, not letting the small change in communication deter her from making things right. Under any other circumstances Ana would’ve run into Natasha's arms practically knocking the air out of her but she still remains in her spot standing near you, she hasn't moved an inch or said a word. You and Natasha share a brief look between each other. Natasha clears her throat as she talks to Ana from her spot on the couch.

“Are you enjoying your time with mommy?” silence. You rub Ana's shoulders for comfort letting her know that everything is fine and that she doesn’t have to be guarded. That she's not in trouble. That her mama isn't angry with her. “Ana, mama is speaking to you.” She looks up at you and goes back to Natasha. “Yes.” Natasha briefly smiles before finding something else to continue the conversation. “What did you do today?” Natasha remains hopeful as she studies her daughter's face. She hasn't seen her in days, so she makes sure to take in every little detail. Her brown locks are coiled and damped from her bath. She’s in her favorite dinosaur pajamas that you and Natasha have to hide sometimes just so she can wear her other clothes and she always tops it off with her pink fluffy socks. The brief moment of analyzing is reminding Natasha that her actions can cause this to be a permanent arrangement where she only gets to see Ana on certain days. No longer under her presence 24/7.

“Mommy took me swimming in the big pool today.” Anastasia avoids all eye contact as she plays with her fingers, staring at a spot on the fancy rug. “That’s awesome, that means you've gotten better at your breathing techniques.” Natasha tries to keep the flow of conversation going but she's hit with another wall. An awkward tension. It's clear Ana won't go towards Natasha on her own and the hurt behind Natasha's eyes is too much to bear, so you come up with an excuse. You bend down slightly to gather Ana’s attention as you softly speak to her. “Hey, sweetie, I'm gonna run to the store for your dino nuggets, why don't you go sit with mama and tell her more about your hotel stay.” You gently nudge her forward as a sign to get closer to her mother but before you can even step away your movements are halted by a strong and tiny hand.

“Don’t go mommy.” She clutches on to your hand with a vice grip. The strength of your six-year-old was truly remarkable. The scene in front of Natasha breaks her heart. Her daughter was afraid of being left alone with her; she's scared of Natasha. It's taking everything in herself to not cry, to not stand up and leave, ultimately accepting this now tarnished mother daughter relationship. “It's going to be okay Ana; I won’t be long I promise.” That does nothing for the grip she has on you. She tugs your sleeve a little more silently begging for you to come closer to her. She looks back to Natasha on the couch and back to you as she lowly whispers in your ear.

“I don't want mama to get mad at me again.”

“I won’t, I’m not angry with you, Ana.” Natasha finally stands up wiping her sweaty hands on her slacks and moves closer to you two. The distance has become too much, almost suffocating to her. “I was wrong for doing that to you.” She swallows the harsh lump in her throat. She can't believe this is the conversation she is going to have with Ana. “I know that scared you, and I’m sorry.”

“Why did you do it?” The question packs a heavy punch that also requires a heavy answer that Natasha will have to censor for her daughter to understand and to not be afraid of the information. “I didn’t know how to stop you from having a tantrum. I’m still learning how to be a good mom for you. I try every day.” You want to cut in now, you want to erase what just came out of her mouth. You want to interrupt and tell her that she is a good mother despite her bumps on the road. Despite this incident or another incident, she’s always redeemed herself from her past mistakes and learned from them. You choose to remain silent and tell her these exact words in private right now it is about her and Ana. “You know my father didn’t put me in timeout or use a countdown.” she chuckles dryly as if this was something even remotely funny. It isn't. A clear coping mechanism to her being vulnerable and open.

“What did he do?” Anastasia's curiosity piques interest. You on the other hand weren't sure if this was appropriate for Ana's ears no matter how hard Natasha wanted her to understand where her head was in that store when she struck her. She can't bring herself to say it; a flash of memories invades her mind as she stares blankly into the open room. You definitely were not leaving this room now that Natasha has opened this door. You clear your throat, combing your fingers through Ana's hair as a gentle way to put focus on you instead.

“He hurt mama, he hurt her very badly and treated her terribly.” At this newfound information Anastasia frowns deeply. The thought of someone hurting Natasha saddens her. She doesn't even know Alexei, you and Natasha, both made it a point to never have her in the same room as him. She releases your hand and finally walks towards Natasha's frozen figure. Natasha suddenly snaps out of it at the feeling of her jacket sleeve being tugged. Looking down she’s met with familiarity and comfort. Her daughter's eyes.

“I’m sorry you were hurt, mama.” Natasha allows herself to release her tears, taking on the emotions that she’s kept bottled up for years to finally overflow. “I'm sorry for hurting you.” She pulls Anastasia into a hug and mumbles the words on the side of Ana's face as she deeply inhales and exhales. She pulls back from the embrace tucking the left side of Ana's hair behind her ear. She holds an unwavering eye contact with the six-year-old. “I will never hurt you like that again, okay?” Natasha nods her head for certainty, and Anastasia quickly follows her lead. “Okay.”

“I'm sorry too, mama.” Natasha looks at her curiously. “What are you talking about?” Anastasia looks back at your figure and looks back to Natasha. “It wasn't very nice to scream in the store and throw things on the floor.” Natasha chuckles, seemingly having forgotten all about how the situation started in the first place, but she’s proud of her daughter for being aware of her wrongdoing. “You're right it wasn't a very nice thing to do.” Anastasia holds her head down in shame, she knows what she did was wrong she's just so used to getting her way that day threw her off. Natasha would never shame her for it. She's just a child after all, a spoiled child but most importantly her child. She nudges her index finger under Ana's chin gently tilting it up for eye contact.

“Hey, it's alright. Thank you for apologizing.” Natasha plants soft and quick kisses across Ana's face as she starts a fit of giggles. You watch the interaction with a soft smile finally able to release a breath with the way things turned out. But the brief eye contact shared with Natasha is not giving the same type of vibes, she knows you will want a much more detailed discussion later on. You allow Natasha to stay longer, you still take the opportunity to get away from her for a moment.

Tell Ana that you were still going to get her nuggets from the store and now that she’s not constantly worried about Natasha spanking her again, she’s barely paying attention to you and your movements. Of course, Natasha tries to keep you in the room offering to just go out to eat or order room service instead. She’s missed you both, staying in an empty home alone does damage to the mind when you are not used to it. You quickly shot down the idea of having a family dinner, at least until everything is settled between you two as far as parenting goes.

When you return with grocery bags you head straight for the kitchen, placing everything in its place. Looking around the room you can tell the two of them made up for a week's worth of time lost. Toys are spread across the floor and snack wrappers are littered on the coffee table. Natasha has just finished reading Anastasia, her favorite bedtime story. “She’s out like a light.”

“That’s good, she had a long day.” You walk back into the kitchen area not wanting to be near her and remaining hopeful that her phone will ring so she can leave. She came here to make amends with Ana, and she's done that. Natasha can sense it, the tension is back, small talk and keeping the conversation on Ana won’t smooth things other with you. Natasha sighs sitting down at the counter.

“Can we talk now? Or are you going to keep acting like I'm a stranger?” She nervously nibbles on her bottom lip seemingly ready for whatever you have to throw her way. “I’m not sure there is anything to talk about Nat.” you keep your back turned to her, not in the mood to truly unpack everything that she said to you. “You said a lot at home, and you seemed like you meant every word.” you quickly turn around to face her, she's still seated at the counter, your words strike her heavily. She made you feel like you were the problem, like you were the one that needed to take a step back and evaluate the life decisions for Anastasia to be more than what the two of you experienced.

“Anything else you want to get off your chest about the way I parent or encourage you to parent our daughter. See how I said, "Our daughter, I wouldn't want you to feel like she’s only mine.” you send her the most ferocious glare she's ever seen coming from you. you scoff opening the fridge, grabbing a beer and quickly taking a sip. You don't even like drinking beer, it was too cheap for your liking. “I was not thinking clearly, I didn’t stop to think about how that would affect her or you.”

“Clearly not, but you still had those underlying feelings and I-” Natasha abruptly stands up from her seat and makes her way around the counter slowly edging towards you. She doesn't even want to know what you were about to finish your sentence with because that scares her, losing you has always been a fear of hers and since having Ana, losing her own little family scares her even more. She entraps you between the counter and her body, both of her hands on both sides of the marble countertop. “How do I know that you won't do it again? How do I know that the next time she has a melt down and I'm not there with you, that you won't spank her again or God forbid something worse?”

“Because I'm not him, I'm not a product of what he wanted me to be, not when it comes to her and not when it comes to being a mom.” Natasha's face contorted in pain; she's trying to hold back. There is a subtle strain to her voice that only you can pick up on. She reaches into her pocket; you have forgotten about it, but it's been burning a hole into her expensive fabrics since she left home. she brings the polaroid out of her pocket and stares at it repeating the same words she just said to you. “I’m not him.”

“I'm not him.”

“I’m not-” You bring her into a strong and warm embrace, dealing with that trauma alone it couldn't have been easy. “I know, you're not.” You rub up and down her back soothingly. Natasha doesn't cry like this often so you stand there holding her for as long as she needs you too. Eventually she pulls back but not too far away from you your lips finally meet in a soft and affectionate kiss. An eagerness and hunger starts to rise the longer the kiss continues, Natasha being away from you and being so vulnerable has caused her to be touched-starved. Before things get heated you pull away no matter how bad you wanted to keep going there was still something that needed to be addressed and understood. “I won’t allow Anastasia to be around that type of environment. We've worked so hard to shield her from it and give her better, I need you to remember that the next time you feel like you're losing control over how she handles her emotions.”

“You're right.” she wipes away her tears nodding in agreement with everything that you've said this entire time. What would happen the next time this happens? The look of pure fear her daughter had just by being in the same room as her hits her like a ton of bricks. Natasha never wants her daughter to be afraid of her. She needs to shake away that form of discipline out of her mind. It's been installed into her brain since a child.

“You have to unpack your shit, Nat.” you tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear and as you pull away from her, she holds your hand against the side of her face. “I will, I promise.” She's avoided any form of therapy or comfort when dealing with her traumatic childhood and past. However, now it's gotten to the point where she can no longer avoid it, she needs to deal with this head on professionally but for now you'll hold her, for now you'll console her and applaud her for being brave enough to revisit the past trauma and admit her mistake. A change will be made for the better, she swears by it. She can deal with the world fearing her, she likes it, actually thrives off of other fear from just her presence but she draws the line at her daughter.

“I’ll start looking for a therapist tomorrow.”

[yummyrevivalfluid]

Do I Wanna Know?

Senku x Artist Reader Pt. 5

A/n: Yall, I think I cooked 😼I love music😈

W/C: 809

Tag List: @cchuisme @lovingyeet @markerelll @minimissmelody @74zix47 @xtfhtfrj @maria-trisha @floweringdaisie

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You were tired of it all. Tired of Senku. Exhausted by the lingering touches that lead to nowhere. You were fed up with the rush of excitement when he leans on you, resting his head on your shoulder when he watches you try to solve physics problems. Or the moments when you watch the stars and his fingers brush up against yours, no effort done by him to pull away. Disappointed that all the touches he initiates, he doesn’t take it a step further.  

Exhausted by his lingering gazes. When he originally started staring at you, you ignored it. Chalked it up to another scientific experiment he was conducting. But it never seemed to let up. If anything, he’s been staring at you more and without shame. Even when you catch his starring, his eyes dart up to match your gaze and suddenly it’s a starring contest. One you never win. Swiftly turning your head away to hide the heat rising to your cheeks, trying to block out his mocking laugh at your reaction.  He knows it flusters you so why does he bother?

Exhausted by his words that spill from his lips without a second thought. Words that hold so much meaning to you but appear to be so casual to him. More than once, your breath hitches at his words, your heart racing, your mind short-circuiting just to feel like a fool when he laughs. Taking back the meaning, and the implications of the words he says so casually.

But what’s worse to you is the moments when he doesn’t indicate he’s joking. Leaving the words he says in the air. Leaving you alone with your thoughts. Your heart eager to take in those words, to allow itself to indulge in delusions, in misunderstandings. Yet your mind wonders if it means anything to him. The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?  Your mind wonders if he knows the meaning behind the words.

Maybe you weren’t tired of him. Because everything that’s been driving you insane is another moment of inspiration that leads you to pick up your pencil, pen, brushes, and paints. Another day where he holds the honorary title of being your muse. Of being your love. But you sure as hell were tired of the mixed signals, he keeps sending you. Which is why you find yourself in your own predicament.

You and Taiju had an agreement. He’d confessed to Yuzuriha, and you’ll confess to Senku.

Even after Taiju finished his spew, darting out of the room to meet with her. You were hesitating. You were fidgeting with a letter in your hands and Senku noticed. Pulling away from the scene outside the window, he walks over to you. Once again, he leans into your shoulder, peaking at the letter in your hand.

Do I wanna know? If this feeling flows both ways?

“What are you, some kind of shy middle schooler mustering up the courage to confess your love” he jokes but you don’t laugh. Instead, you answer back. You place the letter in his hand, your fingers brushing against his, your voice meek but louder than anything in the room. “Yeah, I am.”

This time you leave your touch; he is left wanting more.  This time it’s your gaze that Senku’s feels. One that he is nervous to reciprocate. He knows if he were to look up, he’d lose. You leave your words to the air. It’s him that is left alone with his thoughts. Absorbing your words and their meaning with a brain that is near short-circuiting.

My muses are my love

Suddenly everything seems to be connecting for Senku. Everything was becoming painstakingly obvious. Realizing he was digging too deep for an answer, what was already at the surface. You literally meant love. You admit to confessing your love to him and yet Senku is a river in Egypt. He finds it hard to accept that there isn’t another meaning behind being your muse. He wants confirmation.

“Is this what it means to be an artist’s muse?” he asks, finally meeting your eyes. His breath hitches and he’s quick to lose. He quickly averts his gaze, and he’s the one turning red as he pulls away. The letter falls between the space he creates. He rushes to the window where he sees Taiju and Yuzuriha outside. He can’t escape. “…am I your muse?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don’t know if you feel the same as I do…

A beaming light takes you to what you can only describe as hell. You never got to hear his response, and you don’t know if you ever will. You’re left with your thoughts, running different scenarios and what-ifs. What if you told him sooner? What would happen if he accepted your feelings? What if he hadn’t?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

…116,763, 119,997…

…116,763, 119,998…

…116,763, 119,999…

…But we could be together if you wanted to…

116,763,120,000

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/n: I think this series is coming to an end 🥲....I believe the next chapter is going to be the last chapter. I originally had different plans for the series but I liked the changes that I made and I don't want to drag out the story. The last chapter might take a awhile before it's uploaded!

Thank you all for the love and support! 🩷

[osohchoso]

Shattered Ice

Chapter Two- Regrets

Hockey player!Choso x F!reader, ex bf!Toji x F!reader

Previous | Chapter Index | Class list | Next

Content: fluff, college AU, hockey AU, friendships, hangovers and mentions of drinking, embarrassment, mentions of cheating

The walk to your dorm felt exhausting. It’s only three flights to your level but each step was excruciating. Hand clutching the railing as you climb, clinging to it in case your clumsy feet missed. If someone were to pass by at this exact moment, they would think you had just climbed a mountain with how winded you are. To make things worse, those pain relievers Choso gave you have done nothing to ease the pain in your head. The violent pounding worsened with each subtle movement. But the end is in sight, at the top of these stairs is your door, where you can finally lay down and rest. 

Leaning your shoulder against the wooden door, you rummage through your purse. Eyes closed as you feel around the mess inside, items jumbled around carelessly without any organization. Your fingertips graze against the metal teeth of your house key, pinching it between your thumb and index finger to pull it out. Inserting the key into the door until it clicks and creaking the door wide open.

Walking in, you nearly trip over one of Shoko’s heels lying carelessly in the entrance. Likely kicked off in a hurry the second their uber dropped them off last night. You quickly slip your own shoes off and look around the dorm. It’s eerily quiet. Shoko and Utahime are probably peacefully sleeping off their hangovers. Walking over to the kitchen, you pull out a nice and cold bottle of water from the fridge. The icy droplets give your dry throat the relief it craved. 

Plastic water bottle pressed to your forehead to soothe the ache as you shuffle your way to your room. Before reaching the end of the hall, you pass by the open door that leads to Shoko’s room. She is laying on her stomach, face pressed into the white pillow case while Utahime lays on her back. Both girls fast asleep and completely oblivious that youre approaching them with a menacing grin.

For a moment, you completely forget about the pain and nausea from your hangover. The only thing on your mind now, payback.

You jump up and crash onto the bed, landing on top of your two friends with a thud. Shoko groans but doesn't move from her spot. Utahime on the other hand, did not take the rude awakening so well.

“What the hell!” she shouts, sitting up looking alarmed. Her black bangs slick to her forehead with sweat as she stares at you, bewildered. Once she recognizes your giggling face, the adrenaline wears off. She sighs your name and lightly punches your arm. “I was having the best dream, ya know...Satoru dropped out and I didn’t have to worry about him being my class partner anymore. Why did you have to wake me?” She lets out another dramatic sigh before laying back on the mattress. 

“You guys!” You groan dramatically, forcing your body between them. Shoko’s elbow digging into your stomach. “You abandoned me!!” 

“I didn’t want to!” Utahime objects. “Trust me, the last thing I wanted to do was leave you alone in some frat house with a bunch of drunk men.”

“But you still did,” you point out with a pout.

“It's not her fault” Shoko grumbles into the pillow, her words coming out muffled. Up until now, you weren't even sure if she was awake or listening. “If anyone blame Satoru, he didn’t want you to puke in the uber’s car and have to pay for it”

“Like that rich fuck can't afford the cleaning fee” Utahime rolls her eyes and sighs. You know she’s right, your best friend comes from a rich family and could easily afford to pay the fine if you happened to spew all over the car. It likely wouldn’t even make a dent in his pocket. “Seriously though, how are you doing?” Utahimie’s gaze softens as she looks over you, trying to access your physical and mental state.  

“I feel like someone is drilling inside my brain, and my stomach is a bit uneasy. But other than that, I'm fine.” 

“Did he do anything to you?” Utahime narrows her eyes, scanning over your body still covered in his borrowed clothing, the comforting scent of his clove cologne still clinging to it.

“No!” You quickly shake your head “Choso is very nice. He took care of me the whole night after you left.” 

“Oh? So you do remember his name. Pay up Utahime.” Shoko mumbles into the pillow, Utahime clicks her tongue in response. You watch, stunned, as Utahime digs out a wad of cash from her wallet on the nightstand, throwing it at the other’s head. 

“You guys placed bets on if I would remember his name?” you gasp, watching as Utahime nods sheepishly. 

“We weren’t sure if you would remember anything after that last shot with Sukuna” Shoko says, still face down into her pillow. 

“No thanks to you two!” you huff. “But for your information, no, I did not remember his name. Or anything from the party when I woke up. Had to ask him everything when I woke up. It was so embarrassing, never let me get that drunk again.”

“Yeah…you were a mess last night” Shoko laughs as she finally turns her head to face you. Her once pristine, white pillow case stained black. A combination of eyeliner and sharpie. Her face still sporting the smeared drawings. Your eyes are drawn right to the thick black line running across the bridge of her nose, the one Choso drew.

“I don’t think I can ever face him again” you blurt out, heat pricking your cheeks. You would rather crawl off the face of the earth than have to speak to the hockey player again, than risk the chance of him bringing up one of your drunken moments he had to witness. 

“Tough luck, he’s going to be at every game until you graduate. And I know there is no way you're skipping on those.” Shoko says flatly. You bite your tongue, she's right. But there is nothing saying you have to interact with him at the games. Maybe you can spend the remainder of your time at Kaisen University by completely avoiding him. There is no reason you have to speak to him again. Right? 

Just go to the games, stick with your friends and never, ever step foot into Sukuna’s ‘domain’ ever again. Easy. 

Your friends continue to fill you in on your drunken activities throughout last night. Like how you and Satoru decided to sing ‘Die with a Smile’ at the top of your lungs, in an attempt to serenade Suguru together but instead made everyone’s ears bleed. Or how you raided the pantry when you got snackish, eating the last pack of Sukuna’s secret stash of fruit snacks.

At some point, the three of you drifted back to sleep in Shoko’s bed. Napping the remainder of the day away. By the time you woke again, the bed was cold on either side and the sun was starting to set. Thankfully, the much needed rest was enough to chase the raging migraine away. Sitting up, you notice Utahime was kind enough to plug your dead phone into the charger on the nightstand. Pulling it off and make your way out of Shoko’s room, walking toward the living area. Holding down the power button to revive the phone, hoping you didn't miss any important messages. 

Shoko sits in the living room, a still warm pizza box sitting on the coffee table in front of her. 

“Want some?” she asks, waving toward the half full box of pizza. Her skin now clean and clear of any markings, hair still slightly damp. You nod and walk forward, grabbing a slice from the box and plopping next to her on the couch. The two of you eat in silence for a moment. Your phone vibrates twice from where it sits on the arm of the couch. Glancing at the name, you instantly scowl.

ASSHOLE (dni): Baby

ASSHOLE (dni): Please let me explain

You let out a frustrated sign and swipe the notification away, not even bothering to open it. 

“Toji?” Shoko asks after studying your expression, already knowing your answer.

“Yup. He sends me a message like once a day.”

“Why?” she snorts.

“Maybe because he realized what he’s missing now that I’m gone.” 

“Does he think you’ll take him back or something? You should block him.” She takes another bite of her pizza, chewing thoughtfully. “Why haven't you blocked him?” A question you have been asking yourself recently too.

“I just…can’t.” Speaking slowly, forcing the words out. “He was such a big part of my life, that it hurts even thinking of erasing the memories I made with him. It’s all just so fresh still.” You may be past the initial grieving of your broken relationship, but it still hurts just the same. How can you just forget the past and move on? You wanted a future with that man, convinced yourself he was your future. 

“Would you get back with him?” Shoko asks, though her voice is soft her expression is serious. The question catches you off guard. It isn't something you had put much thought into. How could you ever trust him again after what he did? Constantly worrying about if he was sneaking off with a side piece. And what if he cheated a second time? How would you respond then? Thinking about it just puts you in a rage again.

“No”

“Good. You're better than him.” Shoko pats your shoulder before standing up, closing the pizza box and walking it to the kitchen to refrigerate the leftovers. On the way back to the bedroom, she pauses and looks at you. Determination in her glare. “Block. His. Number.” Each syllable spoken so sharply it could cut you. 

“I will” you promise before she walks down the hall to her bedroom. Pulling your phone back out, you look at the contact. His picture is one you took of him, your favorite picture. Your thumb caressing his chin, tilting him to look up at the camera in your other hand as you snapped this memory. His lips pulled in a tight line that highlighted the scar on the corner of the right side, but his eyes showed nothing but happiness. He would never admit it, but he loved the way you would obsess over him. Constantly taking pictures and posting him for the world to see. For everyone to know you were his. Pictures that no longer exist, pulled from your socials the instant you got home the night of the break up. You regret deleting them, like burning a piece of history. 

Which is why blocking him is so hard for you now. Just another broken piece you refuse to let go. Your thumb hoovers over the block button, frozen in place as you wait for your brain to give the order. To follow through and cut contact with him once and for all. You can’t. Not yet at least. Locking your phone, you head to bed. Hoping to get a good night's rest and not be haunted by memories of all the good times with Toji. 

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

You did not get a good night’s rest. It didn’t help you slept during the day yesterday, so by the time the sun set your body refused to sleep. To make matters worse, your overactive thoughts wouldn't shut off. Thinking about everything you missed about Toji. The way he laughed at your stupid jokes. How he used to pick you fresh wild flowers because he didn't ‘believe’ in purchasing a bouquet from the store. And especially the way his muscled arms would wrap around you as he held you tight the entire night. 

You hate to admit it, but you miss him.

The first thing you saw this morning was another text from him. The messages staring back at you, baiting you, waiting for you to strike.

ASSHOLE (dni): can we talk about this? 

ASSHOLE (dni): I can't lose you.

You: Maybe you should have thought about that before

You: I don't want to talk about us

You: you can’t fix this

You set your phone down and walk away to get ready for class. Mondays you only have one class, a lab on small animal nursing. This lab only meets once a week, so it's a bit longer than your typical class. After showering, you slip on a matching set of black scrubs, shove your stethoscope in your bag and pick your phone back up from the nightstand. Another notification lights up on the screen, this time not from your ex. An email from your school counselor, asking you to meet with them immediately after your class today. 

It’s noon by the time your lab class ends. Rushing from the science building to the main building in the center of campus. Your appointment with the school counselor was set to start in ten minutes. You still have no clue what he wanted to meet with you on, there were no hints in the email. You do great in all your classes, always achieving the highest marks. A model student. You can't imagine anything you have done to put you in trouble. 

Unless?

Unless somehow, your drunken shenanigans made their way to the school staff. Sure, nothing you did was illegal, but it was a bad look. The star veterinary pupil getting absolutely shit-faced. This could really ruin your reputation. Would it be enough to take your scholarship away too? 

As you take a seat in the waiting area, your thoughts are plagued with anxieties. Of what your life would be like if your fears come true. The scholarship wasn’t the issue, if you lost that your dad could easily pay the tuition fee. Explaining how you lost it to him would be the harder part. Living with the shame would be even more difficult. 

Loud clomping of heavy shoes pull you from your thoughts, causing you to look at the source of the noise. Choso exits from the counselor’s office. He's dressed casually, a gray pullover paired with loose jeans and black laced up boots. His pigtails bob as he walks toward the exit, like he's on a mission. His thick brows pulled tight, slight scowl on his face. You want to duck and hide out of view but thankfully he doesn’t look your way. Probably doesn't even know anyone else is even in the waiting area the way his gaze doesn't lift from the paper he's clutching. Eyes scanning the words printed on it, over and over. Looking upset by whatever it says. 

A male voice calls your name from inside the office. You stand and enter, taking a seat in front of the elderly man seated behind the desk. He is hunched over, staring at a computer screen, not acknowledging your presence yet. One of his hands stroked the length of his overgrown beard. This man has been your counselor all throughout your college career. Each time you see him, you notice more wrinkles, causing you to wonder if he will ever retire. 

“Mr. Gakuganji. You wanted to see me?” You straighten up in your seat as he turns to look at you. 

“Do you have a job?” he asks. His sudden question stuns and confuses you for a moment.

“No” you say quietly, not sure what it matters. You were fortunate enough to not only have your tuition paid for, but to have parents with money. Not in the same way Satoru’s parents are, but enough to get by more than comfortably. Your dad sends you a generous allowance each month, which you blow on food and drinks out with friends. If you ever ran out, he wouldn’t hesitate to send you more. Even when he knew you just wanted to buy a new purse or an overpriced lipstick, he would send it. Your dad loves to spoil you and your siblings. 

“Good, that makes things easier.” Your counselor sighs, raising a frail hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Do you know why I’m meeting with you today?” he asks, sounding exhausting. 

“No sir.”

“There have been some changes made to the biology department, dealing with the curriculum.” He sets his hand back down and looks you in the eye.

“Oh” is all you can manage to say. This was not at all what you were expecting at all.

“It’s a real pain on my part. Having to meet with all of you who fall under the biology major umbrella and tweak your schedules so you can graduate on time.” He looks over at the computer screen again, scanning your profile. “Lucky for you it shouldn’t be too big of a change. We just need to add one class this semester and you'll be fine.” You suddenly feel very thankful you only had three classes you signed up for this semester. His fingers click a button on his keyboard and the printer begins to spit out a paper. 

“What class?” You ask, hoping maybe they decided to add something new and exciting. Maybe the school was granted new technology for clinical simulations or new equipment to test out. This could be a welcomed change. 

“Public speaking” he answers, ripping the paper free from the printer before sliding it across the desk to you. A general education class. You took all of those the first year here, wanting to get them out of the way and start the classes that really mattered. Public speaking was never required for you. So why must you take it now? He notices the puzzled look on your face. “Someone decided our science majors were not great speakers at the last conference. Three of our students froze up during their presentations last month, so this is an attempt to fix that. We can’t have the graduates of Kaisen University representing us like that” 

“Oh, Ok. I understand.” Public speaking has never been an issue for you, hopefully this class goes by easily.

“I know this is unexpected and we are already a few weeks into this semester. You’ll be entering this class with a disadvantage, but I have no worries. You're a smart student, you'll catch on fast. Mondays at 1pm, starting today. Now hurry along.” He tells you sternly, waving you along so he can call in the next student. The man is likely stressed with making all these last minute changes. 

“Thank you Mr.Gakuganji.” You stand from the chair and walk out, paper in hand with the class information. You have 20 minutes to kill before it’s time to start this new class. You decide to stop by the cafeteria and grab a quick lunch. Shoveling some mediocre sesame chicken into your mouth and looking over the class information. No text books were needed thankfully, but the professor is notorious for being boring. Satoru complained about his monotone voice enough times for you to recognize the name. A boring class for a boring professor, how lucky. 

After lunch, you enter the building where your class is located. Scanning the numbers next to each door looking for room 141a. You find the doors and push it open confidently. A large classroom with rows upon rows of raised seats facing the front. Everyone seated and now turning to face you. The professor, who was in the middle of speaking, abruptly stops as you enter. You start to panic, was this the wrong time. Your skin begins to heat up as you stand frozen at the door. You recognize Suguru sitting in the front row, eyes wide at your sudden appearance as he mouths ‘what are you doing?’ at you. 

“Can I help you?” the professor asks, annoyance in his tone. 

“Um…is this the public speaking class?” you squeak out, feeling the pressure of the classes glare.

“No. This is social theory, room 141b. You want the class next door.” He responds sharply then turns back to continue the lecture. 

“Sorry” you murmur and quickly exit. “Can't believe I walked in the wrong room.” The room next to this one had the doors open, the professor not yet at the podium. The set-up of the room was almost identical to the one next door. PUBLIC SPEAKING written on the board for everyone to see. You wonder if any of your other animal science classmates were also switched into this class or if they were attending it on a different day of the week. Scanning the crowd, you don’t recognize any familiar faces. All but one. 

Third row up, sat directly in the middle, sits Choso. His pigtails look a little messy, frown plastered to his face as he fidgets with his fingers under the desk. Eyes staring straight ahead at the blank screen as he waits for class to start. Of course he would be here too. Maybe if you find your seat quickly he won't notice.

Thanks to your mistake next door, you arrived a minute after the start time of class. Only one minute, but every seat in the class was filled, except for two. The one next to Choso or one a few more rows up. The choice is easy, with your decision to avoid any more awkward encounters you climb the steps with the seat away from him in mind. He snapped out of his trance as you moved past him, and from the corner of your eye you watched his expression change. Just for a second. For just a small moment you catch a look on his face, soft and content. Relieved even. Like maybe he was hoping you were coming to sit next to him. Instead, you look away and climb up a few more rows. 

The second you settle into your seat, the professor begins the lecture. Satoru wasn’t lying about this guy's voice. Droning on and on about the essentials of public speaking, how to keep your audience captivated. Maybe he needs to practice what he preaches. As the class stretches on, you feel the sleeplessness catching up to you. Heavy eyelids flutter as you fight to stay awake. Just as you almost give up the fight, a loud thump jolts you awake. 

A few rows down from you, you see Choso’s head face down on the desk. Out cold. He hit the desk hard by the sound of it, you know that hurt. A few of the students laugh as Choso lifts his head. No doubt the impact to the hard wood shocked him awake. 

“Mr. Kamo. In the future I challenge you to at least attempt to get a good night’s rest before my class.” The professor says in a condescending tone. You don’t hear his response to him, but notice his pigtails shake as he nods sheepishly.

At the end of class, the professor begins explaining the final project. He’s assigning it now to give everyone enough time to prepare and hopefully not procrastinate. Students are required to prepare a lengthy speech on a topic they are passionate about and present to the class. With a partner. 

The class erupts in chatter. Students turning to their neighbor and asking who wants to partner with who or what topic to present. The professor raises his hand to silence everyone.

“I’m sorry, but I will be assigning the partners. You'll receive an email from me later tonight. Class dismissed.” You hurry and grab your things, already wondering who will be assigned your partner. You pass by Choso in a hurry, noticing the big red mark he continues to rub on his forehead. Anyone but him please.

That night, you wait around anxiously as you wonder who the professor could possibly assign to you. The email finally comes, unlocking the screen with shaky fingers and clicking on the notification. Eyes skimming the text explaining the assignment again, nagging the importance of this presentation, urging you to start immediately.  Finally, at the end, the name unveiling your partner, and their contact information.

Nine little letters stare back at you, making your heart drop to your stomach.

Choso Kamo.

A/N: Thanks for reading!! As always, thanks for all the engagement, it really helps to motivate me :) I'm working on the next chapter but it likely won't be out until later next week or after the New Year due to the busy holidays. Hope everyone has a good holiday!

Dividers/Graphics by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Lack of Focus

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: Matt comforts you when your forgetfulness seems to be ruining your life.

warnings: swearing, weepy reader, period mentions, Matt being adorable, reader's no good very bad day

a/n: this is heavily inspired by my own life last month where my unknown disability gave me such intense brain fog on my period that I thought I’d somehow gotten brain damage.  Thankfully, it’s passed but what the FUCK y’all. That has never happened to me before and it was terrifying. So here is a little emotional hurt/comfort based on that! Also it takes place in the "In All the World" verse, but it can be read as a standalone. As always, please reply/reblog/DM me feedback!

w/c: 3.7k

Elbows planted firmly on your wobbly desk, you tried to ignore the way the large gouge on the left side dug into your exposed skin. You could feel the splintering fiberboard prickling your flesh, but you were too exhausted to adjust your posture. Your body felt heavy, as if you’d been transported to a different planet overnight and hadn’t quite adjusted to the intense gravitational force. Invisible strings attached to every cell that composed you, anchoring your movements to a far away point, making it difficult to even sit up straight.

Lifting your chin from atop your clammy hands, you strained to reach the coffee cup that you’d stupidly left on the far corner of the desktop. The minuscule weight of the mug made your hands shake, your strength sheerly depleted even though it was barely 8:30 in the morning. The watery coffee slid over your tongue, leaving the gritty residue of undissolved powdered creamer behind. You were used to crappy break room coffee, but it tasted especially bitter today, like a poor consolation prize for a contest you hadn’t entered.

In a word, you felt…groggy. Which made no sense, since you’d been sleeping ten or more hours a day the whole week—if you included your frequent naps. Your period-exhaustion and raging brain fog were apparently in cahoots this month.

The heat wasn’t helping either. New York was currently jumping between excessive, brutal sun and pouring rain. Each day felt like a Greek myth, Apollo and his father battling it out in a wretched display of strength, leaving you and the other mere mortals of Long Island to cope with the muggy weather until their spat was over. Walking through the streets felt more like swimming, given there was so much water vapor in the air you practically needed gills to process oxygen every time you stepped out of your apartment. Nearly suffocating on the 15 minute walk from your apartment to work surely wasn't helping your inability to think clearly.

With a massive sigh, you hauled another box of sheet music into your lap, thumbing through the pages of crumpled and coffee-stained paper. The district had been especially aggravating this summer, trying to appease the school board with promises of low budgets and high rates of success. As much as you’d love for that to be your reality, you had yet to decide on a starting piece for either of your choirs, and the fall musical was barely on your radar. Your mind was plodding through quicksand, grappling for steady ground. The last thing you needed was added pressure from a handful of men who refused to understand the importance of the arts, let alone your career.

Fingers rifling over the blurry text of one particular song selection, you paused, considering the technical skills you’d need to rebuild with your students after their summer break. Removing the pages from the box, you set it aside to ponder further, turning your attention back to the endless stacks. Before you could feel too proud, having stepped incrementally closer to actually  accomplishing something today, a shrill buzzing sounded from your desk. 

You jumped at the noise, losing your grip on the heavy box which toppled to the floor, spewing its contents across the grubby tile of your office. “Shit,” You cursed, snatching your phone up to answer it as you bent down to gather up the sea of scattered papers. The former organization system you’d meticulously sorted them into was nothing but a distant memory. Add it to the growing list of “to dos”, you thought miserably.

Swiping absently at the screen of your phone, you crammed it between your ear and your shoulder, trying to uncrumple the ancient cardboard box that had collapsed during the fall as you greeted whoever had disturbed you. “Hello?” Your tone was less than upbeat, and you could hear a small, slightly-miffed scoff across the line as the caller came to that realization as well.

“Hi, sweetheart. Is everything ok?” Your hands froze around fistfuls of paper, embarrassment clawing at your throat as you registered your boyfriend’s voice. 

“Hey, Matty. Yah, I’m fine. Sorry for sounding like..that. It’s been a tough morning.” You explained, messily gathering the papers into your lap as you fell into a criss-cross position on the floor. 

“I can tell,” Matt chuckled sympathetically. “Are you still coming?” 

Forehead scrunching with confusion, your brain valiantly attempted to decipher the question’s meaning before you eloquently asked for clarification.

“Huh?”

Staring at the walls of your office dumbfounded, your posture became less relaxed as Matt explained what he’d meant. “To the coffee shop? You promised to meet the three of us for breakfast.” 

“Oh god.” You absolutely had. Matt had been moping all week about his busy schedule and the resulting lack of time you’d spent together, so you’d readily agreed when he’d suggested coffee. He’d even been sweet enough to schedule it on the one day that you didn’t have any early meetings so you wouldn’t be too rushed after meeting him. “Oh Matt, I’m so sorry.”

“You forgot.” His response was patient, but even over the tinny speaker his hurt was obvious. Your eyes stung as you pictured his face falling, silently conveying your failure to his coworkers. 

“I’m so so sorry, I’ll be there as soon as I can. It’s the little cafe off of 7th and 42nd?” Clambering to your feet, your voice was slightly choked as your throat constricted—your disappointment and frustration squeezing it like a vice. 

“Hey, it’s ok, love. It’s almost 9:00, we have a meeting with a client in 45. If you’re all the way across town—“

“I’ll barely get to see you anyways.” You finished his thought, eyes falling shut as your hopes of not missing another activity were dashed. This wasn’t the first time this week something important had slipped your mind, despite being on your calendar. You’d already had to reschedule a dentist appointment, scramble home fifteen minutes late to meet with a student for a private lesson, and you’d filed the application for a grant three hours too late because you’d misread the instructions. The constant mistakes were quickly spiraling, leaving you to wallow in confusion and despair as your brain fog only grew. “I’m s—“

“Don’t apologize, sweet girl. It happens,” Matt reassured you. He was disappointed, you had no doubt about that, but he wasn’t angry. A wave of gratitude for Matt’s endless compassion crashed into you swiftly, nearly bringing you to your knees. Your tongue felt heavy, cheeks dampening as tears began to fall. “I was just worried something had happened. It slipped your mind?”

“I don’t know what’s up with me, Matt.” You whimpered, dropping heavily into your squeaky desk chair with a shaky exhale. “I know my mind has never been a ‘steel trap’ but..I’m starting to think something might be wrong.”

Your voice broke off on the admission. Bringing a knuckle to your mouth to bite down on, you refused to sob into Matt’s ear over the phone. He didn’t deserve that after you’d stood him up.

“I know. I’m sorry the past few weeks have been so hard. Do you have plans tonight?” Matt asked softly, voice laden with concern. Even through the phone, his voice bundled you up in a comforting warmth, a layer of protection between you and the world. He was eternally patient with you, loving you endlessly despite your recent bout of ditsy-ness.

“Not sure I’d remember if I did,” You chuckled humorlessly.

“That’s ok, sweetheart. Anything on your calendar?” Acknowledging your frustration, Matt tenderly redirected you—trying to keep your mind from wandering without blaming you for it. God, you loved him.  

“Let me check.” You sniffled, drawing the phone away from your temple so you could flick through your schedule. “Not after 4:00.”

“Ok well I should be done here around 6:00. I can come over for dinner, if you’d like.” Your lips formed a tiny smile at Matt’s loving persistence.

“Yes please. Can we meet at yours instead?”

“Of course! You can go straight to my loft after work, if you feel like it. You can use the spare I gave you.”

“Are you sure?” You suddenly felt a bit timid, being handed so much trust after letting everyone down for over a week.

“Absolutely, sweetheart. You know how much I enjoy you being there. Besides, I’ve missed you like crazy.” His voice was a rumble, making you feel far more loved than you thought you deserved at the moment.

“I miss you too, Matt. I wish my stupid brain would’ve remembered coffee so I could’ve seen you earlier.” Your vision shifted as saline flooded your waterline, tears wobbling as they fought to escape.

“I’ll just have to make it up to you tonight.” Matt purred, definitely waggling his eyebrows even though he was not in your line of sight.

Laughing in surprise, you felt heat rush to your face. “I’m pretty sure I’m the one that needs to be making it up to you.”

“Agree to disagree, sweetheart. We’re going to go open the office, but I’ll see you tonight. I love you.” He lingered over the last three words, tone dipping into pure reverence—the exact pitch that made your stomach flutter as he revealed just how much he cared about you.

“I love you too, Matt. Apologize to Foggy and Karen for me? Tell them I owe them at least three bagels a piece.”

“Three? That’s a pretty steep fee, love. I think I can talk ‘em down.”

Shaking your head with a giggle, you bit your lip. “Thank you for looking out for me, Matty. I hope you have a good day.”

“You too, angel. Call me if you need anything, ok? If I can’t talk right then, I’ll call back when I can. But I’m here if you need me.”

“Ok. Thank you.” Listening as the line disconnected, your heart clenched with disappointment as reality set in—you had an entire day of work to get through before you got to see your partner. Gaze dropping to the haphazard stacks of sheet music draped over your knees, you groaned, hefting them into your arms and dumping them on your desk to organize. Hopefully your sluggish mind could handle the repetitive task without too much issue.

Meandering up the stairs at a snail's pace, each bend of your knee took intense concentration. You were ready to keel over and pass out, letting the guilt and frustration and embarrassment that had amassed over the day fade into oblivion as if it had never happened.

After missing your morning coffee date, and ruining a week's worth of office organization, your day had not improved. Your murky brain had managed to sort the piles of sheet music into the correct songs, but it had taken every drop of your energy. In an effort to perk up before your hours of meetings, you'd thrown back a few more cups of coarse break room coffee—which tasted disgustingly similar to pond water as the day progressed. Each forced swallow stung with the reminder that your forgetfulness had cost you a decent latte and a much needed outing with your boyfriend.

Even four cups of the bog water masquerading as your beloved caffeinated drink couldn't solve your boredom when the administration started rambling on about test scores and parent satisfaction. Graph after graph flashed before your eyes, blending into a drab collage hung on the walls of your brain. When you hadn't shown enough enthusiasm for the new district mandates surrounding attendance and compulsory study hall, your principal had chewed you out—scolding you for not being a team player, for putting your own interests ahead of the success of your students. It took every ounce of resolve you could muster not to burst into tears right there at the conference table.

Finally, they'd dismissed you and you'd gathered your things to leave—only to be caught in a downpour on your walk to Matt's. Though your things were protected by the thick fabric of your messenger bag, you hadn't brought any form of poncho or jacket, so you were utterly soaked when you reached his building.

The fates were clearly determined to drag you down. And, given the exhaustion seeping out of your every pore and the harrowing tightness in your abdomen, you were ready to submit to their malevolent will. You wanted to curl up in a ball and hibernate for a week. If nothing would go right, what was the point of squandering your energy day in and day out to achieve mediocrity?

Bottom lip trembling as tears rolled down your cheeks, you stumbled across the landing to Matt's door—sticking your spare key into the lock and wiggling it. The damn thing didn't budge.

”C'mon!“ You muttered, fresh tears beading in the corners of your eyes as you jiggled the key furiously. ”Open you stupid—“ As you pushed at the small piece of brass with your fingers, it slipped from your grip, your hand smacking against the door frame with the residual energy.

A sob escaped you, your frustration boiling over when your psyche was presented with another obstacle. Yanking the key out and dropping it to the floor, you slid down, back against the cool wood, your sopping jeans squelching as they hit the floor. With a heaving breath, you brought your shaking hands up to your face, trying to soothe your frazzled heart before deciding your next move.

Inhale for 7. Out for 11. Just like you told your kids when they got jittery on the night of a big performance. It wouldn't fix your mood, but it could help you get a grip.

Staring down at the offending hunk of metal on the carpet, your brain flickered with realization. It wasn't the right key. Your own apartment key and Matt's were the same color because you'd made copies together, but the bows were shaped differently. The key to your apartment had a rounded head, while the spare to Matt's had a pointed one. He'd suggested the difference in design to help him keep the two separate.

Heat creeping up your neck, you shoved the damn thing back in your pocket, pulling out your lanyard and singling out the correct key in the line up. 

Your legs shook tremendously as you clambered to your feet, barely functioning enough to keep you upright as you hauled yourself into Matt's apartment. With every step into the loft, your soggy flats squished with your weight, surely leaving a trail of sweat and rainwater behind you. Dropping your bag against the wall where it wouldn’t be a tripping-hazard for your boyfriend, you scrubbed at your clammy cheeks with a fist, padding into the bedroom.

It was quiet, beyond the sliding door. The brick walls and insulation muffling the New York ambiance into a gentle hum, barely noticeable over the buzz of the central AC. A soft, manufactured breeze whirled around you, raising the hair along your limbs. Your damp clothes did nothing to protect you from the temperature change, the frigid air sliding right through them, latching on to the thin layer of moisture against your skin.

With numb fingers, you fumbled for the buttons on the back of your top, ripping off your drenched blouse and replacing it with one of Matt's warm hoodies. As soon as you had shoved your arms into the garment, your discomfort began to fade away. It smelled distinctly of Matt, rather than the stale stench of wet cotton you'd been carrying around. Unzipping your pants, you stripped out of those as well, replacing your underwear with a pair of clean boxers. Mental breakdown stalled for now, you lifted the comforter strewn across the familiar mattress and sunk into the silk sheets with a fatigued exhale.

You were out like a light.

Matt’s lips quirked up at the sound of rustling sheets, his fingers still tapping away on his laptop. Momentarily pausing, he tuned in to your vitals, listening carefully as you roused. Your heart rate picked up, an almost imperceptible sigh leaving you as you wriggled about in his bed.

With a pitiful groan, you untangled yourself from a cocoon of his sheets, ambling out of his bedroom on heavy feet. He was pretty sure you thought you were alone–the tiny gasp as you opened his bedroom door confirming his suspicions.

“Matty?” Your lilted voice was dipped in precarious optimism. Baring your teeth with the tiniest smile, you readily accepted his lifted arm as an invitation to snuggle in beside him on the couch. Setting his laptop and headphones aside, Matt engulfed you with his arms, grinning into your hair as you went limp against his chest with a pleased hum.

“Hi, sleepyhead. Did you have a good nap?” You pouted at his teasing comment, grumbling against his chest. He chuckled, cradling the back of your head so he could plant a kiss on your crown. “I'm not judging you, pretty girl. I'm glad you got some rest. Seems like you had a bad day.”

“How did you know?” You mumbled, rubbing at your eyes as Matt adjusted until you lay steadily across his lap.

“You missed breakfast and you hate the school's coffee, your clothes in my hamper are drenched, and I ran into Mrs. Gomez who warned me of an amateur burglar outside my apartment earlier.” There was a soft slap of skin against skin as you dropped your head into your hands with a moan.

“I was hoping I wouldn't have to relive that particular detail.”

“Sweetheart, if you wanted to spend time with me, you could have stopped by the office. No need to commit a petty crime to get my undivided attention.”

“Ma-att” You groaned, jabbing him weakly in the stomach with a knuckle.

“I mean, I'm sure Foggy would agree to take your case, but seriously it would save a lot of paper if you–” He broke off into a genuine laugh when you shoved off the couch, pouting profusely he was sure. Chasing after you with ease, he caught you by an elbow, angling you back towards him so he could gently kiss your lips. “Sorry, sweetheart. But the image of you trying to break in was too adorable to let slide.”

“That's mean, Matt. Kicking your girlfriend when she's down. Bullying.” You glowered, your arms loosening from their tight cross over your chest as he peppered your head with soft kisses.

“Mmm you're right,” Matt murmured, lips brushing over the bridge of your nose. “I'm sorry to bring it up. Do I need to worry about any broken locks or windows?”

He could practically hear your exaggerated eye roll. “I didn't break anything. I have a key.”  You grumbled, not seeing the humor in the experience.

“What happened, angel? Did you leave it at work?” His question was genuine, but his teasing smirk seemed to push you over the edge.

Tears pooled in your eyes as your chin dropped to your chest with embarrassment. “It just took me a few tries to open the door. I did manage to remember the one thing I needed to get into your apartment.”

You didn't mean for the comment to sound so snarky, but you weren't really in the mood to be picked on. Matt's banter usually cheered you up, enticing you into joking right back with him. Today, though? The idea that Matt expected you to have forgotten another important thing was far too realistic to be humorous.

“Hey,” Matt tutted sympathetically, his amused grin morphing into a slight frown while his brow furrowed with concern. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to upset you.”

“I'm not being oblivious on purpose, Matt. I don't know why I'm like this right now.” You sniffled, hastily wiping away the tracks of moisture forming on your cheeks.

“I know, sweets. I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to poke fun.” Swaying you from side to side as if he was comforting a fussy infant, Matt stroked your scalp as he shushed you. It would've been easy to see the change in his behavior as offensive, but Matt's small repetitive movements and hushed tone were comforting, so you leaned into what he provided.

“I'm tired, Matt. I'm so tired and I'm trying so hard to remember everything but I..I can't.” Lips quivering, you squeezed your eyes shut as another wave of tears pooled in them.

“I know, love. I know you're trying.” Matt assured you, scooping you into his arms and settling back on the couch. “It's just been a bad week. It'll get better.”

“What if it doesn't? What if this is how I am now?” You worried aloud, the hormones clouding your brain triggering a fresh surge of anxiety.

“Then we'll deal with it.” Matt shrugged, speaking as if this was the only possible outcome.

“I love you.” You whispered, nudging your nose into the hinge of Matt's jaw. His throat rumbled under your cheek as he echoed your declaration.

“I love you too, angel. Always.”

“Even when I'm scatterbrained and overly emotional?” You asked timidly, your own discomfort with your unusual period symptoms skewing your expectations.

“Without a doubt, my love.” Matt craned his head to kiss your hairline, frowning as you shuddered into the touch. ”Still tired?“

You nodded against him with a frustrated sigh. “I don't know why, I feel like all I've done this week is sleep.”

“You had a tough day, sweetheart. That would wear me out too.” Matt reasoned, tugging a knit throw off the back of his couch and tucking it around you securely.

“But I want to spend time with you,” You groused, the edges of your words muzzy as sleep tugged at your consciousness.

“There’s plenty of time for us to spend together, ok? Just rest. I’ll wake you when food gets here.” 

“You ordered food?”

“I did,” Matt murmured. “I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten today, so I ordered Thai and pizza. Whatever we don’t eat tonight, you can take for lunch tomorrow.” 

“Thank you, Matty.” You whispered gratefully.

“Anytime, sweet girl. I love you.” Repositioning so you were sprawled against his chest, the two of you fully horizontal, Matt rubbed circles into your upper back, lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @msjb2002

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Your robin and franky fic was chefs kiss but would you be willing to write some solo franky?? Im really into water 7 franky and would love to see what you’d come up with !!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING FOR THIS! YALL I promise you any time anyone requests a Franky fic I WILL BE WRITING THAT SHIT. This is my dream man and no one gives me enough opportunities to write for him! So, I'm sorry I turned this into a smutty nightmare if you wanted fluff... I just need to service the Fellow Franky Fuckers out there.

Pairing: (pre timeskip) Cyborg Franky x Fem!Reader

WC: 2800

Taglist: @generaldaij0bu you might need to see this

Summary: The Sunny malfunctioning is driving you up a wall. You make a request for repairs and end up getting way more than you bargained for in the workshop.

TWs: ROBO-BONING, BABES! P in V sex, unprotected sex (pls don't) sex toy use, forced orgasm, safe words, light bdsm, communication is key and Franky respects it so hard and he's so hot for it, very much dirty talk...

Too Hot (+18)

— — 

It was hot. 

The sun beat down on the Sunny all day and the unwavering heat was barely dispelled after sunset due to the humidity. You lay sprawled on the deck next to Usopp and Chopper, groaning in the unbearable heat. 

“I think I’ll die here…” Chopper groans with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. 

“I can’t believe I’m going to burn to death after all the horrible monster’s I’ve fought… it’s not fair!” Usopp moans and wipes his brow. 

“Just throw me overboard at this point.” You sigh. 

“But don’t you have devil fruit-“

“I DON’T CARE THROW ME OVER!” You screech at Usopp. 

Before you could murder the cowardly sniped in a fit of heat-induced rage, Sanji steps through the door to the deck from the galley. 

“Okay everyone, dinner’s on. Air con works fine in here.” Sanji calls from the doorway. 

You push Usopp and Chopper behind you as you spring to your feet and sprint towards the galley. 

After entering the swinging door, the cool air hits you like stepping through a cascading waterfall. You sigh in relief. Your bliss was furthered when you see bowls of cool gazpacho at each place setting on the dining room table. 

“Thank gods…” You grumble as you hop onto the bench and start eating. The cold soup alleviated your discomfort from the inside out and you couldn’t help but groan in content. 

“Relax, it’s just soup.” Zoro puts his bowl down next to you and gives you a concerned look. 

“Oh I’m sorry swords-for-brains, did you not notice it’s a billion and five degrees outside?” You scowl at the swordsman seated next to you at the table. 

“Who cares?! This soup is great!” Luffy chimes in and extends his rubbery arms to grab every bowl that wasn’t licked clean and shovels them down his gullet. 

You sigh. 

“Nami please tell me this heat wave will be over soon. I’m getting crows feet ON my crows feet from this sun.” You turn towards your friend and navigator. 

“I wish I had better news but it’ll be at least a few more days before there’s any relief in temperature. We’re just going to have to stay in the shade and inside where the air is working. You’re tough, y/n, you can handle it.” Nami states as she sips from her bowl of cold soup. 

You roll your eyes. 

The dishes were promptly slurped clean by your captain and Sanji cleared the table. The blaring rays of the sun had exhausted so you so you decided to take a shower and head to bed. 

After taking a cool shower, you throw on a t shirt and shorts over your panties and sports bra and lay on top of the covers of your bed. 

“Gods it’s almost like it’s hotter in here than it is out there!” You say to yourself as you lay in bed, sweat soaking through your pillow. You decide to hop up and check if the air conditioning was working. You walk over to the vent in the corner of your room and press your hands against it. HOT air was spewing out from the grate in your room. You walk backwards and fall back onto the bed. 

“Fuck.” You throw your shirt over your head and slip your shorts off and flop back onto the bed. Sweat drips from your chin down your neck to your chest. 

*whoooosh*

Hot air was being pushed out harsher and faster through the grate in the corner of your room. The temperature continued to rise and your sweat soaked through your top sheet. 

“I’m not living like this!” You shout in frustration as you push your way out of your room, without bothering to throw your clothes back on. You head down into the belly of the ship in your underwear. Upon reaching the door you were looking for, you slam it open without knocking.

“FRANKY!!!!!” You yell angrily. 

“Jeez, y/n where’s the fire? I could have been naked in here!” Franky pushes his sunglasses back on his head as he turns towards you from his work bench. 

“You’re always naked!!! Also, more importantly, why is the HEAT ON in my bedroom?! Are you trying to cook me like a rotisserie chicken?!” You pant out, still very sweaty. 

“Oh that’s no good… I’ll have to go check the generators.” Franky rises to his feet, towering over you. “Sorry you were so uncomfortable, little lady. I’ll get this sorted out super quickly. Why don’t you get some shut eye in my bed for awhile? It’s still nice and cool down here.” He gestures to his bed in the corner of the room while he grabs his toolbox. 

You sigh. 

“Honestly that would be great, I feel like I’ve been in an oven all day.” You walk over to Franky’s bed and flop down on your back. Being this deep in the ship, there were no windows on the walls, but you were so sweaty and tired you didn’t care. 

“Alright well I’m gonna go fix this for ya, try and get some rest. Your room will be back to super condition in no time!” Franky leaves and you settle into the pillows and close your eyes. The sweat covering your body began to dry and you were finally comfortable again. You find yourself relaxing into Franky’s bed, smelling slightly of cola and motor oil, and drifting off into a light sleep. 

You wake up to the door of the bedroom closing and you snap your head up. 

“Woah, what do we have here?” You hear Franky’s booming voice as you rub the brief sleep from your eyes. It must have still been late at night. 

“Some dream ya must have been having, huh?” Franky stands above the bed and nods towards your spread thighs. You look down at where he was gesturing and notice a huge soaked patch in your pink panties. It was at this moment you notice the wanton ache in your core and abdomen… you must have been having a very wet dream and were awoken before you got to the good part. You instinctively slam your thighs shut in embarrassment and cover your face with your hands. 

“Look at you, so shy but dripping all over my sheets?” Franky continues with a smile, noticing your bashfulness. 

“I-I’m sorry I-“ You stutter and try to explain yourself. 

“It’s okay sweet thing! It’s totally normal. Looks like you’re pretty pent up, huh? I can fix that for ya, if you’re interested.” 

“I.. I mean that would be nice I guess…” You pull your hands away from your face hesitantly. 

“Aaaoooww!! That’s what I wanted to hear! Let’s get started then!” Franky grins and leans down to grab something from underneath his bed. He retrieves a large metal box and pops open the lid. 

“Hmmm let’s see… Some of these… definitely this…” Your robot whispers to himself as he roots around in the large chest. He rises and brings a pile of items out and flops them onto the bed. These were things you’ve never seen before, so your eyes were darting from chain to leather to silicone you had no idea what to focus on. 

“Take that bra off for me baby, I wanna ask ya some things before we get started.” Franky grabs the hem of your panties and gently tugs them down your legs.

You did as you were told and unclasped your bra, tossing it to the side and leaning back again. Franky softly sets your panties down on his bedside table and remarks, 

“I’m keepin’ these.” 

Your body shudders when you hear the sinister tone in his voice.

“Ok doll, now tell me…” Franky traces his hands up and down your thighs, parting them in the process. “How do you like it? I can edge you for an hour or so… or you could cum until you cry… any preference?” Frankly asks casually as he organizes the objects he had turned over onto the bed. 

“I, um…” You were young, not a virgin but not very experienced. This man was almost 10 years older than you, how were you supposed to know what you wanted from him?

“I… I wanna cum… I think…” You eventually squeak out. 

“Ok babydoll, good choice. Can ya promise me you’ll say ‘red’ if you want to stop?” Franky cups your jaw and makes sure you’re looking into his eyes above you. You nod. “No no, tell me you will.”

“I will say it, I’ll say red. I can do it.” You breath out, so ready for him to please you already. You rub your thighs together. 

“And you’ll tell me if there’s anything ya don’t like, hm?”

“Yes of course I promise!” You groan out, impatient to feel Franky’s touch on your skin. 

“Super! I’m going to put you in a spreader bar now, sweet cheeks, so you can’t close your legs on me. It’ll just go around your legs like this…” Franky explains to you methodically as he straps your legs into the homemade device. You tentatively try to close your thighs to see how effective the bar was… and it certainly did its job. 

“OK and these are gonna squeeze your nipples, just like this…” Franky gently attaches the nipple clamps onto your sensitive buds. 

“Oh!!” You cry out as he tightens the screws on them. Franky pulls back and admires his handiwork. You were laid out on his bed, metal clasps squeezing your nipples, causing you to writhe against the spreader bar forcefully separating your legs. 

“Fucking perfect. If you want I can gag you, too…” Franky approaches you with a ball gag in hand. 

“Wait, no. I don’t want that.” You state clearly, even through your lust filled haze. Franky grins down at you. 

“Gods, you’re so fucking hot when you tell me what you want baby. Good idea sweetie, that way everyone can hear how good I’m gonna make you feel.” Franky squeezes your breast, eliciting a whine from your lips. He moves to grab something from the foot of the bed. It a large long, black, wand like device. 

“Spread them for me, I wanna see that cute little pussy.” Franky grabbed one of your knees and pushed it open. 

“I didn’t shave…” You try to cover your face with your arm so you didn’t have to see Franky’s eyes on your most intimate bits. 

“Good! Smells much better like this…” He takes a deep inhale. 

“Fuck,” You sigh out. “You really are a fucking pervert- OH!” The device Franky was pressing against your sex suddenly sprung to life and vibrated against your clit. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced in your life and your stomach tenses immediately. 

“Wait- fuck, Franky! Wait holy shit, wait- ah!” You scream as your orgasm sneaks up on you and takes you out like an assassin. You legs give out and flop against the bed. Franky removes the toy and cups your sex with his free hand. He feels your hole still gently pulsing against his palm.

“Oh poor baby, ya really are wound tight…” Franky coos down at you from your side. “We’re gonna need a lot more of those before you’re ready for me..” He removes his hand and returns the vibrator to your sex. You cry out as he drags it through your wet folds at the lowest intensity. He eventually keeps it at your clit and increases the vibrations. 

You squirm and moan. 

“Hey,” Franky scolds as he pulls on the chain between your nipple clamps, causing you to moan louder. “Don’t fight it, doll face… just cum, I know you’re there again…” He presses the device harder into your flesh and you crash over the edge again. This time it was even more intense, spasms continuing long after the euphoria ended. 

“Franky… It’s so much…” You whine as he leaves the vibrator pressed against your sex even after you’ve cum for a second time. 

“You can take it. I know you can. You know what to say to get me to stop…” Franky meets your gaze and raises an eyebrow. 

You pull your thighs closed to escape the sensation but the bar prevents you from doing so. 

“Come on baby, one more like this, I know you can…” Franky increases the speed of the vibrator. 

“Shit! I can’t!” You arch your back away from the stimulation. 

“Then say it, sweetheart.” Franky increases the speed again. 

“Fuck! I’m- I’m cumming!” You cry out and violently lurch forward on the bed. You grab Franky’s forearm and sob in pleasure. You hear the buzzing of the machine stop and your spasms start to slow down. 

“Think you can take me now, sweet thing?” You are broken from your post orgasm trance by your cyborg lover slipping off the only piece of clothing he had on, his red swim briefs. 

“Mmmhmmm….” You seductively whisper as you roll onto your stomach and push you ass backwards with your knees, exposing your puffy, red wet hole to him. 

“So ready for me, what a good girl.” Franky coos as he strokes down your back bone. “I’m gonna fuck you now, take a deep breath…” 

“SHIT!” You cry out as Franky’s enormous cockhead breaches your hole. You were wildly wet and open after 3 orgasms, but his sheer size was causing your insides to stretch beyond compare. 

“Its- ah” *sniff* *hiccup* “It’s so big, Frank! Ah!” *sniff* 

“I know sweetheart, it’s a lot at first, but you gotta relax and let me fuck you. You gotta open up more baby..” Franky leans forward and places kisses on your shoulder blades. He feels you lessen your grip around him and he pushes in further. “Gooood girl… stretching so nice for me…” He finally pulls back out and shoves himself into you again. 

“Oh!” You cry out in surprise. You continue to yelp helplessly as your powerful cyborg lover drilled into you from behind. 

“Yes there it is mama, cum on this dick. Feels good, huh?” Franky has the audacity to laugh as he hammers into your G-spot. 

You were involuntarily pushed over the edge and sent screaming into yet another orgasm. You sob and Franky uses his massive strength to flip you over onto your back. He enters you again and you moan out in overstimulation. 

“Come on, one more doll, bet you can squirt on me…” Franky thrusts into you from above, holding your hips into his at the perfect angle to hit your spot. 

“No, I- I can’t” You pant out breathlessly, knowing this is something you aren’t capable of. 

“Yes you can baby, come on just try it for me.” Franky pulls back and places one hand on your stomach and the other on your clit. He begins to rub circles into your sensitive nub and applies deep pressure to your lower abdomen, all while thrusting deeply into you with his cock. You snap for the nth time that evening and tears spill from your lash line as your hips spasm in pleasure. You feel different, like some sort of physical release in your bottom half deeper than the normal climax. You look up after catching your breath and see that your fluids had soaked both the bed and your lover’s abdomen and thighs. 

“Hnnnnhhhh” You whine and weep in overestimation. “It’s too much, Frank, please!” You cry out and claw at your cyborg’s back. 

“Almost there mama, take it for me…” Franky rasps into your ear as he reaches his own climax, huge cock buried deep against your cervix. The loudest moan you’ve ever heard reaches your ears and you toss your head back into the pillows. The both of your whine as Franky carefully removes himself from your body. 

You lay there in a daze and didn’t even notice that your lover had left until he returned with a warm towel to dab at your swollen, messy sex. You twitch involuntarily as he cleans your sensitive bits. He unlocks your legs from their hold in the bar and gently pulls the clamps off your nipples, soothing them with the wet cloth.

“You room should be cooled off by now, glad I could occupy your time until the repairs kicked in.” Franky helps you snap your bra back on behind your back. 

“Thanks for the help, and thanks for the distraction.” You reach up and grip Franky’s jaw to kiss it. You slide off the bed bend down to grab something. You hold the worn red pair of swim briefs up to your face. 

“I’m keepin’ these.” You giggle and bolt out of the room with Franky’s bikini. 

“HEY! Those are my only red ones! This is not very super of you!”

—

Xx 

[scarlettoceaneyes]

Omg i love your fics sm it’s actually insane!!!

Maybe booklover!reader x Embry where she just LOVES to talk about the books she’s read to Embry??

Aww thanks so much!! Sorry but the holidays zapped my energy! Send some more request pls 💙💙

My love language- Embry x reader

You were not a nerd per se, but loved reading books likely more than those who wrote them. Preferring the classics, you never missed a yard sale or antique show in town hoping to find collector editions. Books A Million rocked, and even the local bookstore were wonderful for gently used or new books. They had those cute sets in a box, but nothing compared to finding an old or original copy of your favorites. However, this was hard to do so any used copy was pretty cool. You even loved books with notes written in the margins so you could compare someone else’s thoughts with yours.

Your next read was on the library top shelf where of course you couldn’t reach it. Considering if it was even worth it at this point, a tall handsome guy came to your rescue. Embry, your boyfriend, was quick to make sure you didn’t try climbing on the shelves again. After the story of how you did that a couple of years ago, fell down with books falling on your wrist, and finally ending up needing a couple of surgeries to correct the damage, Embry would watch you like a hawk. Sometimes you were faster, or more like he was looking at the comic book section with Quil.

“Hey, babe seriously i promise i will get anything you ever need ok? No more climbing.” You looked up at him blinking your eyelashes at him like you were clueless to anything he was insinuating.

“I didn’t want to bother you. You finally looked relaxed.” The pack has chased a few rogue vampires off tribal lands the past week, leaving most of the wolves to be exhausted with little sleep. Even though you begged him to stay home and sleep, he claimed he was fine after three days not seeing anymore vampires. You knew not to hold your breath, but having your imprint and boyfriend with you on a day date together sounded wonderful.

“Please, don’t worry about me okay? I want you to leave telling me about the books we are borrowing, and not screaming in pain this time okay?” He looked down at you with such intensity and care that now you felt bad. “Stop feeling bad, just pinky promise?” He held out his pinky as he could see your brain and mood instantly processing the change of thinking you are helping to realizing you were making his life harder. Grasping his pinky with a returned promise and kiss, you then turned to see the librarian to check out your books.

Embry holds open the car door as you climb in barely able to hold in your thoughts. As he starts the car, you finally gush about which books you got and why. You would’ve started in the library but you love his undivided attention in the car without having to stop gushing about your books to chat with the librarian or even get in the car. You just wanted him to let you literally spew it all out. He loves every second of it.

You decided to get several classics that you actually haven’t found in a copy you would want on your shelf. Being picky often came with the price of acquiring patience to wait for the perfect item for the collection, or giving up. Quitting was not in your vocabulary, so waiting your turn for the next novel at the public library was necessary.

Embry listened as you told him about the books you held in your lap: Moby Dick, The Old Man and the Sea, and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. You added in some fantasy books as well like Harry Potter since you actually just started reading the series. You explained the characters of Jane Austen and how they overlapped with Emily Brontë or even plays from the 20th century such as A Raisin in the Sun.

As you stopped spilling all your thoughts like an artist paints a canvass after finding his greatest muse, Embry smiles and asks questions upon questions just to see your eyes light up and your face shining with excitement detailing all the romance, adventure, or even down right annoying things you screamed at the author for writing in plot. Needless to say you were passionate about literature of all types.

Never ceasing to amaze and surprise you, Embry drops a question that made you fall in love with him again!

“Shall we head to the thrift store today? I also found a garage sale out 2 hours away, but it seems as though they are holding an antique set of the Little House on the Prairie novels that you read as a kid just for you. That is if you can stand to be with your handsome boyfriend and soulmate all day?”

Not knowing how you could say no to that, or why any girl would ever want to say no, you shake the car with your excitement! Embry was driving already in the direction for your date, but you couldn’t hold it in. Then the guilt set in.

“Em you haven’t been sleeping much. Let’s wait and go take a nap and relax at home.” You wanted to go to the sale and Embry knew it, but he also knew Sam let him off for the next day too so he could spend tomorrow relaxing unless another leech came on the territory. “Absolutely not! Y/N I want to spend the day with you ok? Besides I have a free pass tomorrow without patrol courtesy of my alpha, so we have to be super nice to him for like a week.” He flashes you a smile that tells you all you needed to know. They planned this date and you decided you were going to enjoy it.

As you finally arrived home at midnight with the longer drive, you were the proud new owner of multiple antique collections that the owner basically gave away. After seeing you two, the owner said he would be willing to sell them for a small amount because Y/N would appreciate them instead of selling them for a major profit online somewhere.

Kissing your man and thanking him for the special day, you are so excited to wake up in the morning with a cup of coffee and one of your newest editions to your collection.

[notjuststardust]

Bucket Time Trafalgar LawxReader

Reader eats too much brownie batter and suffers. Inspired by me at least once a week :). Keep in mind this is not proof read and its literally the first forethoughts that belched from my brain rot of this concept so take it easy if there are grammatical errors, please. Might upload an edited 3rd draft once I get there but for now enjoy this fluffy slice of doctor Law taking care of his sweet tooth crewmate. Fluff and some angst if you squint.

TW: Mentions of vomit, hypersensitivity.

“What did I say about consuming raw brownie batter?” Your captain growled, your locks in hand as you wretched into your bucket for the fifth time tonight.

 “Not to eat it in copious amounts..” you whine, giving him your best puppy eyes in hopes of some sort of appeasement.

 “No I said don’t eat it at all.”

 “But-“ you’re caught off guard by another wave of nausea, dipping your head back over your bucket and spilling your guts. As irritated as your captain is, he can't help but feel a swell of pity about your predicament. You always licked some of the brownie batter from the bowl on baking day despite his strict orders not to but Shachi and Penguin had dared you to down the entire thing. You’d done it in 60 seconds.

 That had been the beginning of the end of your wellness.

 “S-sorry,” you sniff, tears slipping from the mere action of relieving your stomach, grabbing for the clean cloth on the sink to wipe your mouth. “Wont do it again.” You mutter weakly, head nearly drooping from tired yet Law knows one thing and that is that your sweet tooth always makes you a liar.

 Once your fever goes down and he discharged you to your quarters when next month rolls around you’ll forget all about this and indulge once again in the chocolate goodness.

 It’s too late for another scolding so he chokes back a comment, replacing your bucket with a new one. As the sink rolls on he watches you in his peripheral, barely upright from dehydration and exhaustion. He’s shocked you haven’t dropped by now. You’ve had a fever since 5 o clock when Shachi and Penguin had finally decided to relay your secret sickness to the captain. 

 You’d made them promise not to because you looked ‘gross’ and smelled bad but it was no worse then what he already was used to. Now it was 1am and you were barely upright, staring off in a daze of impending doom toward your bucket.

 “Go to sleep.” It sounds more like a threat than a suggestion. You huff and squirm. 

 “If I fall asleep I might miss the bucket. I’ve never missed the bucket before.” He freezes mid scrub, cranking his head to look at you. Sensing his stare you stare harder at the bucket, trying to ignore the intensity bubbling his steel gaze molten.

 “Your health is not something to make a gamble of,” more than anger is evident in his command, making you shrink. “If you miss I’ll just clean it up,” he gestures to the cot pulled out in his office for you. “Now sleep.” He gruffs watching you stand and sway out of the bathroom, careful to avoid even a glance his way.

 He relaxes once he thinks he’s won.

 That’s until he’s droning through paperwork only to find you wide awake at the crack of dawn, refusing sleep even still. “(Y/N)-ya.” Your eyes snap shut. He stands from his desk.

 “I haven’t missed the bucket before, I won’t miss it now!” You levy and that’s the hump that breaks the camels back. All the worry, stress and disrespect peaks spilling out of Law’s throat as projectile, emotion and tired clouding the real contents that spew fourth.

 “Are you that naive? I’m a doctor. Without proper sleep your body won’t properly restore your ATP. You’ll just keep getting worse,” he snaps, hackles raised as you turn up your nose in refusal. “If you’re really going to act like such a child I may as well drop you off with strawhat-ya! Tell me, is that what you want? You might fit in with the band of idiots..” The tension clenching his chest into what had felt like chronic hypertension eases with his outburst for only a moment. 

 There’s only the brr of the submarine and the shuffle of a body, yours, flipping over to face the wall. Law opens his mouth to take it back but you speak first. “If that would be easier for you, I accept your decision, captain.” Your body trembles and it’s not from the uptick of waves. Caging a hand over his mouth Law tries to concoct something to salvage his harshness with you. A snore graces your lips and whether artificial or not the doctor decides is best to simply say nothing for now.

—- 

 Law returns from breakfast to find your cot freshly made and… empty. Oh no. 

 He starts with your bedroom. You hadn’t been down for breakfast and he hadn’t taken your temperature just yet. Had you seriously left before he could make sure you were okay? No, you were sensitive, a bit silly but you were not an idiot. Not like he had said at all. After checking just about every room the doctor freezes something blatant clicking in his brain. He murmurs a quiet ‘shambles’ switching himself with one of Ikkaku’s trinkets only to enter as a closet door slams shut.

 “Ikkaku.” The ginger slowly turns her head, face pale as she giggles too much. He doesn’t need to say anything because he scanned the room the minute he’d switched. You’d been found a while ago.

 “H-hey captain, what are you doing in here?” He almost states his business fully but the only worry on his crewmates face is for fear of you being found. If you were sick Ikkaku would most definitely rat you out.

 “Tell (Y/N)-ya I need to see her in my office when you see her.” He flicks a telling glance toward the closet before hesitantly excusing himself and like clockwork he hears the closet reopen.

 “He wants to get rid of me. Doesn’t he?” He goes frigid at your words. You were notably the most sensitive of your crew members. Emotion and human behavior were your strengths so how could you think such a thing? Nevermind, of course you thought that, you’d thought he implied it last night.

 Law stands outside the door, frog in his throat when you open it. You don’t seem shocked that he’s out there but you don’t seem happy either, eyes scanning him over for any sense that he had in fact heard your words. “Sorry.” You apologize almost instantly, eyes set to the ground in silent shame. There was more color to your face and you smelled like waffles.

 You’d kept something down, good.

 “Room.” He murmurs, and you both reappear in his study. You blink off the still heavy nausea and plonk into a chair. He takes your temperature and administers a subcutaneous antibiotic. The silence is loud.

 “I left a note with my vitals for this morning.” He eyes his desk and sure enough there’s a note written in big letters, ‘Need some space. BPM 68….’ He swallows as he reads through your detailed note. You didn’t leave a single thing to the imagination because you knew he’d worry. Law nods, then he slides back into his chair.

 “I’m glad you’re feeling better. I know I might now show it but… you had me worried.” You nod but do not move, do not even offer a single joke. He feels his heart clench. “Do you remember much?” He offers as a transition, folding his hands together on the table.

 “Everything.” It’s not an admission but it sure feels like it. His tongue fumbles into knots and you notice. “You were tired.” You say so quietly, eyes set on the medicine cabinet for comfort instead of him.

 “That’s no excuse,” he counters just as quickly wanting so badly for you to just look at him, see his side. “You are not an idiot and you have no place on any other crew.” Your brows pop and you let out a low whistle.

 “That’s rich.” It almost sounds bitter but there’s the twitch of a laugh.

 “Care to let me in on the joke?” He inquired cooly, forcing himself not to take it personally, yet. You consider yourself.

 “Well,” you shoot a glance Law’s way. “I mean it would be great petty revenge to join Luffy’s crew.” Your captain facepalms.

 “(Y/N)-ya-“

 “If you wanted to visit me I’d make sure to get real cozy with Luffy so I didn’t have to talk to you.” You tease as he snorts. The thought of you and Luffy together gave him a headache, not to mention his stomach soured at the mere idea of you brushing hands and stolen glances at one another.

 “You hate me that much, huh?” He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. There’s quiet.

 “I could say the same thing to you.” You say it so casually he nearly chokes. He looks up to find your teasing feign gone. What was it you had said earlier?

 “He wants to get rid of me. Doesn’t he?”

 “I do not want to get rid of you.” There is conviction and then there is objective fact, this was that. Nothing you could say nor do could change the fact that even though you were sometimes a moron who ate too much brownie batter or an idiot that took bathes with electronics in the tub you were his problem and to be quite frank, his favorite problem.

 Though you were an inconvenience at times you were a comfort to just about everyone on board. You brought a content that hadn’t been here in your absence and a space for Law to be palpable despite his hesitancies. Not to mention you always followed through.

 A consistent chaos in a sea of abnormalities.

 “Are you sure?” You murmur, words unsteady as the sea of ‘want to says’ in his head. He nods and reaches onto the desk, open palmed and flicking his pointer. His cheeks heat as you stare at his hand. Then you put a pen where he’s requesting your hand.

 He about deflates.

 “Y-yes, I’m sure.” He puts the pen away when realization his you like a brick.

 “Wait-“ not wasting another second you take hold of his hand. He clears his throat as you stare at him for confirmation, gifting you a curt nod. Maybe he couldn’t say the words but you could read the in betweens.

 “You’re my problem. Do you understand?” Bravely, he lifts your hand bringing it to his mouth. He hesitates as you gulp, careful only to brush his mouth over a knuckle once he's certain you don’t want to protest.

 “Y-yes Captain!” You give him some sort of mock salute in the middle of your fluster, bashful as you realize what class of problem you were. He chuckles softly, releasing your hand.

 “That means no more brownie batter,” he stands at full height, leaning over the desk to take in all your bashful glory. “That way I can finally taste those beautiful lips of-“ That’s when Shachi and Penguin burst down the door, parting the anticipatory union and turning you both red with embarrassment. 

 “Too much cookie dough!” They grovel, sloshing to piles of green much on the floor.

 It’s bucket time again.

[anemonelovesfiction]

I (Don’t) Hate You

Spider Socorro x Fem! Human Reader

Warnings ⚠️: Eating out, Fingering, Penetration (P! In V!)

MDNI 🔞

Literally noticed the lack of Spider fics and decided to write one, it’s technically an “enemies” to lovers but I’m not sure exactly how that pans out

Not proofread I’m lazy… and once I finish writing I like to get this out to you guys as soon as possible.

Word Count: 5k

Max had asked me a question about potentially working with Spider for some kind of project that he and Norm had been wanting to test out, some kind of scientific hypothesis that if something then something- to be fair I wasn’t really the best at listening once someone was to mention Spider and I doing anything together. It wasn’t that I was willing- wait- it totally was. I just couldn’t see myself actually doing anything remotely scientific with him when all he cared about was chasing after the Sully children and pretending to be one of them, he didn’t think in a scientific way, meaning this project was dead from the beginning.

“Well, why not?” Max asks after I had told him no in a serious tone, having taken into account that he’d managed to drag Spider away from the Sully’s long enough to ask me this question, but I wasn’t really in the mood to have to explain everything to him, scoffing at his question before answering.

“Because I don’t do well with idiots around the lab all day,” I had a lot more to say than just that, but felt it was better to keep my answer short and simple, I held my nose up high not really wanting to listen to any reasoning Max might have had to proving that this was worth trying, I was also mentally exhausted from the back-and-forth Spider and I usually did and it wasn’t beneficial to anyone involved.

“And I don’t do stuck-up bitches, yet here I am.” Spider speaks up for the first time since being here and I was genuinely shocked, my mouth hanging open at his comment, to be fair this was expected of him, he never took anything serious and it was starting to show, I’d never even hung out with him and I was being proven right, his smirk was starting to make an appearance on his face and his arms crossed against his chest.

“Spider,” Max started off, the tone in his voice indicating he had been warning him to knock it off, but I’d had enough.

“You’re such a dick, you know that?”

“Y/n!” Max yelled before I crossed my own arms.

“You think that just because you put on some body paint you’ll be able to be one of them? News flash, you aren’t, you never will be, just because everyone in here didn’t want us when we were born doesn’t mean someone out there will, think with your brain and stop wasting everyones time.” I rolled my eyes as I spoke my heart out, seeing a certain look of disappointment flash on his face before it was replaced with one of anger.

“The only one wasting anyones time here is you, you think you’re one of them? You aren’t, you’re the annoying reject they had to train, at least the natives care about me, nobody cares about you.” Spider was quick to retaliate and I could feel anger bubbling within my body as he spoke, ready to strike back with hurtful words of my own, without thinking about anything I’d been saying and spewing the hate right back to him.

“At least my parents-”

“Thats enough!”

I gasped in sharply as I felt my arm getting yanked, a big blue hand had wrapped itself around my bicep and began quickly walking toward the opposite direction, my legs having no choice but to follow blindly at whoever had just stopped our conversation, sentence dying on my tongue before I was shoved inside a room, falling onto my bottom, the big blue face I’d come to recognize as Norm in his avatar state was the last thing I saw before the door closed.

I only stood and walked back over to the door and attempted to punch my security code on it to get out, eyebrows furrowed in anger at having been tossed in here like I was a wild animal, but to my surprise the keypad blinked red three times, signifying that my code was not validated.

“What-“ I stated before typing my code in again and watching the light blink red once more.

“Norm!” I yelled through the room I’d been tossed in.

“We’re tired of hearing the two of you squabble at one another like its a fucking world war, we’re going to be leaving the lab for an hour so you can get everything out of your system, you guys have better made up by then.” He yells through the door before I can hear receding footsteps, it wasn’t until I turned around at his words that I realized Spider had also been in here.

Time had gone by slowly, I could have sworn I had been stuck in here for the allotted time Norm had stated, but luckily I had been wearing an old wristwatch that still worked, the time on it reading fifteen minutes past when we’d first been placed in here. I could only count the tiles in front of me so many times.

My eyes land on Spider as I see he’d backed up against a wall, hands crossed over his chest, a leg propped up against the wall, I wanted to yell at him but I didn’t have it in me to start another fight.

It wasn’t my intention to have gotten him angry, but the fact that we’d both been seething from what we had said earlier kept the both of us quiet, every time I glanced up at him I could feel a sharp heat slicing through my stomach as I thought up of a quick witted response to whatever it was he’d decided to say.

“Are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to say something worth of my time?” He asks without so much as a glance in my direction, I scoffed but turned my face away from his.

“We wouldn’t be in this mess if you kept your mouth shut.” I stated as my anger begins to simmer in my vessels, attempting to hold back more of the nasty words I had to say.

“You’re joking, right?” He chuckles darkly as he turns to look at me, leaning against the wall with one foot up, arms crossed against his chest again.

“If you hadn’t called me an idiot I wouldn’t have had to call you a stuck-up bitch.”

“Are you really saying this is all my fault?” I ask as I start closing the distance between us, knowing better than to get close to him right now, but my anger was starting to rise to an all-time-high with him.

“If the fuckin’ shoe fits.”

“I can’t wait until we get out of here so I don’t have to see your stupid face.” I stated as I finally catch up to him, neck straining slightly at how tall he was, for being out with the natives he grew taller than any of us that stayed in here.

“My stupid face, what are you, three?” He asks as he looks down at me, smirk forming on his face, feeling helpless in this situation and wanting to throw a tantrum, but composing myself as much as I could.

“Wipe that stupid smirk off your stupid face.” Well, there goes my composure, straight out the metaphorical window, and I do admit my comebacks need some work, I did sound like a three year old.

“Or what?” He leans down with a scowl plastered on, his face centimeters away from mine, and I’d made the mistake of looking down at his lips, realizing how full they were, my own scowl dropping as I observed his lips, eyes meeting his and seeing he too had dropped his scowl.

I blinked before he’d closed the distance between us and his lips were on mine, I’d closed my eyes out of instinct, letting myself get lost in the kiss we’d shared, a lot of rage melting away as our lips moved against each other. His hands had been quick to be placed on my waist as he deepened the kiss, effortlessly pulling me closer toward his body, and the warmth radiating off of him had temporarily rid me of the goosebumps I’d gotten from being trapped inside this metal box.

He’s quick to switch our positions, my feet almost stumbling until the back of my waist was pushed against the wall he’d been leaning up against, he’d used his hands to guide themselves on my shirt, tugging on it from behind as I moved my hips out of the way for him to gain better access, accidentally grinding myself against his length.

He let out a hiss as he disconnected our lips, quickly redirecting his lips toward my jaw, inching toward my neck in a teasing manner as he untucked my shirt from the pants they’d been in. I raise my arms up almost instinctively and he begins bunching the shirt in his hands before lifting it off my body, he tosses the shirt back and places his hands on my breasts as he finds my pulse point and sucks.

“Spider~” I whine as his hand snakes underneath the bra I had been wearing and uses his thumbs to caress my nipples.

“I like you better when you have nothing else to say,” He mutters before reaching one hand around my back to unclasp my bra, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was quite a turn on to have witnessed him doing it one handed.

I’m quick to shrug the straps of my bra off and toss it toward one side, not giving him the satisfaction of having said anything else, my own hands reaching for his cheeks as I bring his mouth onto mine, feeling his tongue swipe against my bottom lip, I gasped and feel as he slides his tongue inside my mouth and finding mine before licking it.

“Mm,” I squeak out and feel his hands on my hips again, one hand snaking up to pinch my nipple, as the other caresses my hip lightly. His lips once again traveling off of my own and down toward my neck, skipping over the pulse point he’d suckled earlier and heading towards my collarbones.

I could anticipate his lips getting closer to my breasts and pushed my chest into his face, earning a chuckle from him as his other hand abandons my hip to pinch my other nipple, a low moan reverberating inside my throat.

“You like this, don’t you?” He asks rhetorically.

“Spider,” I whine as I crave his attention on my nipples once more, my face feeling flushed with his words, avoiding eye contact from him until one of his hands grasp my chin gently.

“Tell me what you want.” He mutters low enough for me to hear, but clear enough to have made it a demand, I could only whimper as I look into his eyes, already darkened with lust.

I whine again after a pause of silence, attempting to move my hips to grind against his, only to feel one of his hands coming down to press against my hip, making my ass touch the wall behind me.

“Don’t make me ask again.” He’s clear in his statement and I swallow another whimper, attempting to appear bold as I bite my lip with indecisiveness.

“I want you,” I admit, seeing a smile grace his features, I’ve just come to the realization that I’d enjoyed seeing his smile, his eyes bounce between mine before placing his hand on the babd of my pants, silently asking permission, my heart beats faster upon this action, nodding almost too quickly.

He grabs my pants full force and unbuttons them, pulling them down my legs and stopping once he reaches my knees, given they were khaki shorts I shimmied my legs, taking a step out of them, using my other leg to lick them off God know’s where.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous,” He responds and I can feel my lips curl into a smile, he gently places his hands on the waistband of my underwear, a look on his face telling me he’s silently asking for permission to pull them down, I could feel my face heating up at how much of a gentleman he was.

I give him a small nod before feeling him start to slide my underwear down with a sense of desperation, only managing to bring it down past my knee’s before he’s back up again, I take it as my cue to kick off my underwear the same way I’d done with my pants, not really caring where it had gone.

I feel him dip down slightly, face coming toward my chest as he places his hands behind my thighs, I immediately jump and feel his strong arms wrap themselves around my thighs, but he doesn’t stop lifting me up to wrap my legs around his waist, but rather settling me up so high, my back is leaning against the wall and my legs were placed along his shoulders.

“Spider,” I stated uncertainly, the cool metal starting to cool me down and bring me back to my senses.

“It’s okay, I got you,” He gives my thigh a comforting squeeze.

“Aren’t I too heavy?” I asked as the uncertainty had started creeping through my mind.

He only keeps his eyes on me as his face comes close to my cunt, the heat that had started dwindling with the coolness of the metal on my back was starting to come back, and the moment his tongue comes out to lick a fat stripe against my pussy has me gasping lightly, immediately biting my lip in an attempt to control my hips from thrusting in his face.

The second lick he does has a moan tickling the back of your throat, his tongue flattening to cover more of the surface area, I was tempted to toss my head back, but the hold his dark chocolate eyes held on me kept me locked into place.

The third lick was starting to drive me wild as he finally delved his tongue in, tasting my juices and allowing the tip to flick against my clit, a moan I’d cut off had slipped out as I shifted my weight slightly, lifting my hips up a bit and watching his eyes crinkle as he smiles.

“Spider,” I breathe out, unsure of what it was I was even asking for, until he finally dips his tongue back on me, honing in on my clit, circling his tongue around it.

I allowed myself to throw my head back, feeling as my hand lifts up and grabs a fistful of his dreadlocks.

“Oh fuck,” I whined, rolling my hips against his tongue as I closed my eyes, losing myself in the pleasure, the grip on my thighs getting stronger as he attempts to hold my hips still.

He doesn’t waste any time in moving his muscle faster, my hips fighting against his hands, a growl dripping from my lips as I squeeze my eyes tightly.

“I’m coming-“ I grasp his dreads tightly as I feel my walls closing over nothing as he continues to bring me pleasure by continuing to lick me, holding me steadily as he allows me to ride out my orgasm.

Once I’d felt like I had enough I loosened my hold on his hair and paw at his forehead to get him to stop, he brings his own face back and I felt spent, dropping my hips in a slumped position and noticing the shiny cum on Spiders mouth and chin.

Taking a second to catch my breath I continue staring between his eyes and shiny mouth, a smile forming on my own lips as a thought came to my head, It wasn’t my intention to piss him off but I could have a little fun teasing him.

“Enjoy your meal?” I stated and watch him smirk, affectively letting go of my thighs, I yelp and jump slightly at the feeling if my security being gone before he places his hands on my waist, carefully setting me down.

“Spider!” I angrily stated while playfully hitting his shoulder.

“I like it better when you’re moaning it out instead,” He corners me against the wall before planting a quick kiss on my lips, hands finding my waist, thumbs rubbing against my skin deliciously.

“Why don’t you,” I trailed my hand down his abs and place my finger on the band of his loincloth, watching as my eyes trailed down alongside my hand, linking my finger in it in and tugging at it slightly before my eyes meet his.

“Take this off,” I began as I use my other hand to repeat the action, now gently tugging on his loincloth, practically begging it to come off.

“So I can please you.” I ended my comment by taking both fingers out from the band, and using one hand to cup his hardened length, eyes coming up again to meet his, only to find him looking down at my hand, lips caught between his teeth.

“I have a better idea.” He mumbles as he settles his body to sit flush against mine, he didn’t seem too concerned with discarding his loincloth as he brings his lips on mine once more, igniting the fire in my core.

His hands aren’t gentlemanly as they roam around my body, greedily mapping out my body as his tongue dances with mine, his knee digs itself between my legs and I’m forced to spread myself just so he can fit in, not minding this situation one bit as one of his hands dive deeper.

He manages to slide his index finger between my slick folds, brushing up against the clit he’d abused earlier, a muffled moan coming from me while his lips were on mine, his hand working its way further down until he shoves his finger in without warning.

My gasp gives him a second to shove his tongue back down my throat, my legs spreading further to allow his hand enough space to work its magic, another muffled moan slipping past my lips.

“Spider~” I moaned again as I move my head toward the side with his kisses leading to my neck once more.

A second finger finds itself shoved inside my pussy and a long moan follows after, the way he’s allowing me to adjust to the sheer size of his fingers was more than generous, slowly inserting both fingers and feeling the delicious stretch filling my senses, his mouth connecting with my nipple had fueled the fire stirring in my belly.

“Spider please,” I whine as his fingers are moving terribly slow, I could take his fingers moving faster as I usually did this to myself, but having someone else do it felt so much better.

“Yeah, What do you want?” He asks as his fingers start going faster but even then it wasn’t enough, my knees still buckle under the pleasure and I was having a hard time concentrating on standing, but I was craving more.

“I want you to fuck me-“ I stated, feeling my face growing hotter at my own words, not caring at the moment as I knew what I wanted.

He doesn’t say anything but curls his fingers inside me, hitting a delicious spot that made me see stars, I could only throw my head back.

“Spider!” I moan again, letting a longer one roll out of my mouth as I desperately attempt to scratch the itch of my growing orgasm, my own hips snapping against his hand to meet his thrusts and feeling as though something was missing.

“I like when you say my name like that,” He speaks rather huskily, taking his fingers out of my cunt, bringing his fingers toward his mouth and letting a moan of his own sneak past him.

“You taste divine,” He mumbles as if he hadn’t just ate me out earlier.

“Please take this off,” I whine as my fingers sneak into the waistband of his loincloth, tugging rather harshly just to hear him chuckle at my desperation, I only found my eyes drifting up to meet his.

“Please,” I find myself begging silently, my voice barely above a whisper, seeing his eyes soften as he brings his hand toward my cheek.

“Lie down,” He seems to accept what I’d been wanting as his other hand reaches where his loincloth is tied, nodding at his command as I bring myself down to the cold floor, lying down and watching as he settles onto his knees on the floor, pulling on the string and watching as his loincloth finally slides off his body.

I watch as his cock springs up, slapping him in the belly, precome coating the tip and my breath being dragged out as I stared. The tip of his cock was rather big and he was thick all around, sure he wasn’t as big as my forearm, but staring at him made me question if it was going to fit.

“Like what you see?” He asks cockily, his own hand coming down to squeeze his balls and the base of his cock all together.

I could feel the saliva coating my mouth as I desperately wanted to taste him, feeling myself gulp rather loudly before my eyes go up toward his again.

“Is it going to fit?” I asked with uncertainty, feeling my legs closing subconsciously, I watch as his eyes trail down toward my legs, then back up toward my eyes before he crawls up toward me, his body hovering over mine as he leans down to kiss my forehead gently.

“We can stop if you’d like,” He begins but I shake my head.

“N-no, I want to, I’m just nervous.” I was quick to answer, not wanting to ruin what we had going on at the moment, placing my hands on either of his cheeks and using my thumb to caress his face.

“I trust you,” I stated and feel him nod, his dreads forming themselves around his face so perfectly, I smiled while spreading my legs wider to fit him in.

“This might hurt at first,” He begins as he grasps his cock with one hand, placing it close to my cunt and pushing his cock between the lips of my slick, the head of him rubbing against my clit.

“That feels good,” I moan and feel him continue to stimulate my clit, my legs spreading wider, my eyes closing softly as I focus on the pleasure.

“You ready?” His husky voice breaks me out of my happy place but I nod.

He slides his cock down and I feel it catch as he slowly pushes the tip inside, the stretch feeling wider than that of his fingers, but the feeling was incredible.

“More-“ I shimmy my hips down closer, feeling more of his cock sliding in, the stretch starting to feel like a lot but my desperation to fill all of him was consuming me.

“This feels so good,” I hear him strain, his hands coming to grasp my hips rather harshly, he squeezes harsh too but refuses to move.

“Spider more,” I beg as I attempt to shimmy myself further but feel him holding me into place.

“I need a second,” He groans, my eyes open as I see him struggling to take a decent deep breath, his dreads threaten to tickle my nipples as his head is hanging low.

“Don’t hold back!” I whine as I attempt to move my hips for more stimulation and feeling frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

I can hear him growl as he slides himself the rest of the way in, the breath that had been in my lungs suddenly leaves as I feel his entire length inside me.

A low groan leaves his lips as he ruts ever so gently into me, his hands still holding into my hips harshly, his grunts coming out rhythmically before taking his entire length out and shoving it back inside.

I moan louder than I had in previous attempts as his entire cock stretches me out deliciously, a bit of pain bringing a stinging sensation, but it was all welcomed as he begins to set his own pace.

I find myself wrapping my legs around his waist, he suddenly picks up the pace, causing an obscene sound to come from my pussy, a warmth filling me up as he continues his thrusts.

“You feel so good, so tight, fuck!” He exclaims as he plants his knee’s down, hand trailing from from my thigh, down the swell of my ass and trailing past my leg, tugging at it to get me to unhook myself from him.

I take my legs off his lower back to appease him, but watch as he grabs my legs by my ankles, pushing them up toward my face and essentially folding me in half. The feeling of the tip of his cock kissing my cervix is the only feeling I could focus on.

He tightens his hands on my ankles and begins to drag himself out of me, and smirk as he slams himself back into me.

“Spider!” I whine as I feel him reaching my cervix, my special spot, and places I had no idea existed inside of me.

“You gonna stop being a brat to me from now on?” He asks me loud enough to bring my attention towards him, moaning out as he thrusts back into my half bent body, unable to think properly.

“Give me an answer, pretty girl,” His hips still and a rage settles inside me, his hands loosen around my ankles as he runs his hands down my calves, now placing his hold on the back of my thighs.

“N-no,” I mumble, seeing him smile, his grip on my thighs tighten and he starts thrusting into me almost primally, his growls being heard in my ears as his cock assaults my cervix, the feeling of it being hit continuously starting to draw my orgasm near.

“I’m close,” I squeezed my eyes tightly to focus on the pleasure, feeling as they roll back into my skull as I see starts forming in my vision.

“Thats it, baby, squeeze my cock dry.” His words drive me closer to the edge as I feel it begin to flutter around him, his thrusts never ceasing to bring me pleasure.

“I’m coming,” I cry out as he thrusts in one last time, feeling my walls contracting against his cock, stuck in a state of ecstasy, a high pitched whine leaving my lips as I’d came.

A sudden warmth entering my cunt as Spider empties his cock inside me, a drawn out moan escaping him as he attempts to thrust deeper into me.

It hadn’t taken long for us to untangle our limbs and put our clothes back on, but I did feel slightly dirty knowing there was no possible way for me to clean myself up, feeling as his cum slid out of my cunt and into my underwear, a lovely stain I’d have to deal with cleaning out later.

“How long do you think it’ll take for either one of them to come back?” I asked as I finally find the courage to look past my hands and up to him.

He only shrugs and it appears he’s been biting his lip, unsure of what to say or how else to keep the conversation going, but the quiet we’d marinated in had been welcoming, there was nothing awkward about it.

Just then my ears jerk slightly at the slightest sound of someones footsteps making its way in the lab room we’d been in.

“Wanna know how I know you learned your lesson?” Norms voice is heard from the other side of the door, a rhetorical question since he never expected the same answer to come out our mouths, so he answered his own question aloud.

“Because I don’t hear you yelling at each other,” He mutters and just then a beep is heard, the door opens up automatically to show us a human Norm standing on the other side.

“Can we go now?” Spider asks with an attitude lacing his tone, I nervously look over at him before my eyes shift to Norm exhaling loudly, had everything we’d done just been a one time thing?

“Promise not to put up a fight the next time we ask you a simple question?” Is his sassy reply and I felt my eyes rolling as I walk over toward the exit, arms crossed as soon as I stand close to Norm, seeing Max behind him.

“The next time you lock us in here without a toilet or running water I’ll make sure to castrate your Avatar.” I threatened before pushing past him and walking out.

I didn’t bother turning around to know that the footsteps behind me were Spiders.

“Hey, you okay?” Spider asks once we’re within an earshot from Max and Norm, I could feel him grasping my arm gently, and I turned my body to look at him, seeing genuine concern from his eyes.

“I’m fine,” I sigh out and feel him wrap his arms around me in a hug.

“I hate you,” I mumbled into the hug.

“I don’t hate you.” He replies and I smile.

__________

“So what do the results yielded from the study conclude for our hypothesis?” Max asks from behind Norm,who turns toward Max with a smile gracing his features.

“It would prove it correct,”Norm couldn’t fight the small laugh that had decided to come through his lips, his face slightly brightening as his cheeks reddened, the two of them now smiling.

“It smells like sex in there, do you know how hard it was to keep a straight face the whole time, I was literally dying!” Max mentions as he comes close to his colleague, hand coming up to clap his shoulder twice, the two of them turning around to document their findings, opening a folder on the tablet, the hypothesis in bold.

If two people who quarrel with one another over stupid things are trapped together in a room with no way to track time, then they are more than likely to sleep with one another in said room after realizing there is no way out.

[ratzoids222]

ALL OF THIS IS WRONG CHAPTER 1 <3

[ H. Lecter x OC ]

SYNOPSIS: An under-appreciated forensic tech gets pulled into a whole new world when Jack Crawford deems her useful, unorthodox therapy paves a way for Hannibal Lecter to stick himself in the middle of the things she cares about. Will her instability keep Hannibal on his toes? Or will it be the reason for his unravelling?

WARNINGS!!!: 18+ | blood, gore, cannibalism, Hannibal is his own warning | corruption, manipulation | slow burn, age gap, eventual smut (warnings will be chapter dependent) | angst, mental health troubles | older!Hannibal, dominant!Hannibal, mean!Hannibal, soft!Hannibal, jealous!Hannibal. A LOT OF HANNIBAL. | no Will Graham | Hannibal x original!female character, original!male character x original!female character (very briefly) | alcoholism, swearing, anxiety| let me know if i missed any!!! (this chapter is 3k words)

em's note: This isn't my first fanfiction, but it is the first one im publishing! This is mostly for myself because i thought it'd be nice to have a more aesthetic way of reading things, but i hope the people that manage to find it enjoy :) This is also based on Hannibal NBC but a lot of it is from memory so if thats going to annoy you don't read!!

ALL OF THIS IS WRONG.

The alarm clock read 1:03AM, and a viscous buzzing from the nightstand was depriving Ember of her much-needed rest.

"What!?" She harshly answered the phone, annoyed and too exhausted to care.

"Well hello to you too, sunshine. We need you on a scene at Bambry Lane. Be snappy, Lieutenant Wan ain't happy." The familiar voice fell on deaf ears as Ember rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Hey Keyes, you there?" Dewey prodded.

"What? yeah, yeah! Bambry lane. ill be there." That was enough for Dewey so he hung up and Ember sprung into action, making sure she had everything she needed before heading down to her truck. The only stop she made was at a little vending machine in her Apartment buildings lobby to get a granola bar. "Fuckin' work." She grumbled to herself.

Concern started to blossom in Embers brain as she got closer and closer to the scene. At least 14 different officers were poking around, and lieutenant Wan seemed to be angrily shouting at a poor soul over the phone. As she stepped out of her truck that same familiar voice she had heard from earlier called for her, "Ember!"

"Dewey? What the fuck is going on?" She asked through furrowed brows. Ember was used to crime-scenes, sure, but she had never seen one as busy as this. Dewey shook his head, "Its better if i show you." He swallowed thickly, leading Ember to the violent display felt akin to leading a lamb to the slaughter. "Its presumed to be cannibalism." He murmured as he studied Ember's face.

Her mouth dried and she had to look away for several seconds. There were chucks of body parts spewed randomly across the scuffed asphalt, some with teeth marks and mouth-shaped pieces missing. An array of different organs were smashed into the crowded road, kidneys, livers, all on display. The smell was sickening. Intestines and bloodless forearms hung from the nearest tree, decorating the atmosphere with a morbid abhorrence.

"It gets worse." Dewey led her to one of the three disembodied heads, this one in-particular had a dislocated jaw and several teeth missing. The detective gently lifted the top half of the head to reveal all six of the scenes eyeballs sitting uncomfortably in the mouth of the victim. Before Ember had a chance to react, she heard the weighted footsteps of her lieutenant approaching. "Just got off the phone with the FBI, I managed to get them on board. They'll be mostly taking over from here on out." Ember nodded in relief, turning her eyes away from the horrors in front of her. "Mostly?" Dewey questioned. Wan sighed, with a certain 'I just ran over your dog' look in his eyes.

"You two will be staying on the case. They need a detective and a forensic tech from the state. I tried to fight them on this but its the only way they'll take over, something about being thinly-spread." The lieutenant patted Dewey on his shoulder and gave Ember an indifferent nod before turning on his heel to dismiss the other officers. "Fuck this." Detective Dewey cursed under his breath, immediately walking away from the monstrosity awaiting him. Ember was pissed too but she knew how to do her job. She hung back for a little, going over the collected evidence and seeing what she could interpret.

She eventually caught up with Dewey and the two leaned against the hood of Embers truck, sharing a cigarette and some not-so-kind words while they waited for the FBI to arrive. Most of the officers had packed up their things and left by now, counting their lucky stars that this was no longer a state-owned case.

It didn't take long for FBI agents, forensics and profilers to show up, leaving the pairs passive aggressive smoke short lived. A tall, looming presence, that wasn't unfamiliar to Ember and Dewey, stomped his way over to them. "Jack Crawford of the FBI, Im sure Wan told you i'd be taking over the case?" He reached out a dry hand to both of the two, offering a firm handshake and a silent promise that an unpleasant night was afoot. "What do you have so far?" He prompted, and Dewey shot up eagerly to inform him. "All three victims appear to be female, mutilation was mostly post-mortem, and we've found no outstanding pieces of evidence thus far, no witnesses, no major DNA, not a single feasible thing. "

Jack nodded, "This killer knew what he was doing." There was a small pause before he opened his mouth again, "and what about you, Keyes?" He asked, turning to Ember.

She cleared her throat at the unexpected question, "Well, physical evidence-wise, I was doing my final sweep when i found a short grey hair in the palm of one of the victims."

"Physical evidence-wise?" Jack asked, a little confused.

"Well, I mean, theres always unspoken evidence in a crime scene. I was just clarifying." She shifted her weight, cursing herself in her head 'great now i sound like a fucking nutjob'

"Whats the unspoken evidence at this crime scene?" Crawford seemed more curious than anything.

"Um, well, I think this killer holds a position of power, like manager, business owner, teacher even." She spoke slow at first, unsure of herself. "Judging by the way he- for lack of a better word -designed the crime scene, he gets off on disrespecting his victims. If we run with the cannibal idea and pair it with the way he set up their remains, he definitely thinks he's above these women. Id go as far to say he wanted us to be horrified by it." There was a drawn out silence as Jack pursed his lips, Embers cheeks burned red, she'd just blurted out a bunch of nonsense to one of the most respected members of the FBI. Crawford took a deep breath, as if thinking very hard about something. "And how do you explain that?" The silence from Ember spoke for itself and Jack opened his mouth again, "The jump you made to that conclusion, how did you get there?" He pressed.

She looked at Dewey as if he'd whisper the answer to her, "I cant really explain it, its kind of like a feeling, an, um, innate knowing." Dewey had known Ember for around 20 years now and it was rare to see her speaking so unconfidently. Her throat bobbed and she opened her mouth again. "I have pretty strong empathy, so its easier for me to put myself in the shoes of others. Either way, it is written in the evidence, its just hard to read." To her surprise, Jack wasn't quick to judge like her leiutenant.

"Do you do this often? Make these unexplainable jumps that nobody else can?" He was trying to peel into her, to get into her head. Ember wasn't a fan of that, but she knew better than to disrespect him so she decided to just stay vague. "Its case dependent." Jack noticed her words were sharper.

"And are you ever right?"

Ember tilted her head, considering. "Usually."

Dewey cleared his throat, breaking whatever situation was unfolding, and Jack finally led them over to some other FBI agents, "Dewey this is Agent Soprano, you're going to assist him, and Ember this is Beverly Katz, I want you sharing your expertise with her."

It was a long tedious night, but once they were finished at the scene, Ember and Dewey were taken to the FBI headquarters for the first time. Doing the initial analysis of the body parts was a crucial task, and a difficult one to do while sleep deprived, but Ember didn't mind so much when she was in a lab as fancy as this. "Y'know, when Crawford mentioned we'd have some state help, you are not the person i had in mind.

Ember shrugged, "im gonna take that as a compliment."

Beverly smiled, "You have the skills to be real FBI, y'know?"

She was met with an unreadable look from Ember, "wouldn't pass the screening."

Beverly looked at her curiously and she was about to say something else before she got cut off by Jacks demanding voice. "ID's?" Beverly straightened up and cleared her throat.

"First victim is a Shauna Park, 20, she was attending Baltimore state college. Then we have Alicia Roan and Gabby Anderson, 21 and 19. Alicia was also attending Baltimore state, Gabby wasn't." Jack onced over the Frankenstein-esque piles of flesh in-front of him before turning to Ember. "What do you think?" She was silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts before speaking. "He could be a lurer, maybe he lives near the college so its easier for him. He picks girls who he thinks are weak and vulnerable because he likes their innocence. And judging by some of the marks on them, he likes to play with his food. He wanted them to be aware of the fact that as soon as they were dead, he'd be eating parts of them. I think its likely he's a professor at the college." She took a deep breath. "Its a vengeful kind of malice, but not directly."

"Whats he taking indirect revenge for?" Beverly asked.

"He was bullied when he was a child, rejected. It stuck to him and this is his coping mechanism." Ember nodded to herself feeling confident in her analysis.

Jack also nodded, "the missing teeth?"

"We think they may be trophies, they weren't cleanly removed so this guy is definitely not a dentist." Beverly confirmed.

"We need to speak to the parents of the victims, more specifically Gabby's. Lets see if we can rule out the idea that he's a professor at the college before we continue." Jack concludes, "if anybody finds any other connections between the victims besides that, make it known." He shouted on his way out.

Ember finally made it home to a well-deserved hour of sleep, seriously rethinking her career choices. To her annoyance, she was awoken not much later by a harsh knock on her apartment door. Ember stretched, groaning painfully as she trudged to answer it. "Agent Crawford." She said surprised, fixing her posture.

"Hope i didn't wake you." He stated, walking past her into her living room.

"May i ask why you're here?"

"im going to interview the Andersons, you should come along." He asked, although he was actually asking. He was telling. And Ember knew that.

"Im a forensic tech, not a detective. You have guys for that."

"You have a unique insight and i need it for this case." Jack retorted. Ember sighed to herself, knowing this was not a battle she could win.

"I need 10 and ill be right with you." She mustered as polite a smile as she could before walking off to her room.

"Make it 8." He replied, leaving to wait in the lobby for her. And once she was ready, they drove over to the Andersons place.

"Good evening Mr and Mrs Anderson, I understand you've already talked to some of my colleagues. I hope you don't mind confirming a few things for us." Crawford greeted, making his way into their dining room.

"What more is there for us to say?" Mr Anderson replied, his thick southern accent was filled with frustration for all the questions he and his wife had already answered.

"We just need help confirming some details." Ember reassured.

"And what would those be?" Mr Anderson asked, clearly struggling to hold back his anger.

"Did you daughter attend Baltimore state college?" Jack asked.

"How many goddamn times do i gotta tell you people! My daughter ain't got nothin' to do with that school." 

"Were you and your daughter close?" Ember chimed in.

"The hell's that supposed t' mean?" Mrs Anderson piped up, seeming offended.

"I mean did she have a tendency to hide things from you?" Keyes clarified.

"Shed never keep a damned thing from me." Mr Anderson cracked open a can of beer, glaring at both Ember and Jack.

Ember nodded, she believed he believed that. How do you know she wasn't at least applying to Baltimore college?" She asked, as she looked around their home.

"We're movin' back to South Carolina. We wanted her to come with us, over my dead body would she be goin' to a college like that." Mr Anderson replied, his anger seemed to settle into something more melancholic.

"May we see her room?"

Gabby's room was basic, white walls, white bedsheets, no remnants of personality at all. That was, until Ember poked around Gabby's walk-in closet. There was a sizeable hole in the wall that was previously hidden by a rack of long coats. Along with a handful of miscellaneous items, Ember noticed a lone white letter and reached for it with concern. Unfortunately confirming her suspicions, it was an acceptance letter from Baltimore state college. Jack and Ember shared a look of concern before leaving to share this new found information.

"Dewey! We have a solid connection between the three victims." Ember said almost excitedly, holding up the creased acceptance letter as she skipped over to him.

"Shit." He exhaled , looking down at Ember with worry.

Ember raised her eyebrows and signalled for him to keep talking.

"Well, i was waiting for you guys to get back so i'd have confirmation, but i spoke with Mr and Mrs Roan, and Alicia was allegedly having an affair with one of her college professors, 'guy called Dan Grayson. Then, I went and spoke with Shauna Park's parents, they practically burst into tears when i mentioned his name. I think we have our guy."

"Well holy crap, lets go get this fuckin' creeper so i can get back to my regularly scheduled shitshow!"

Dewey couldn't help but smirk as the sentence left her mouth. "You have such a way with words."

After an arrest, several interrogations, a search warrant and a very long trial, the case was finally closed. Much to Embers dismay this was not the end of her relationship with the FBI, this was just the first of many dates. Jack Crawford had his keen eyes set on her and he was not going to let a unique skill set like hers just slip away. As she was walking down the courthouse steps for the final time, excited to return to her normal life, he called after her. "Keyes!" She sighed and turned around reluctantly. "We just did a good thing in there, and it couldn't have been done without you." Jack smiled at her and Ember smiled back softly.

"Thank you, but there are many people that could do what i did." She replied.

Jack shook his head, "Thats just it, there isn't. In all my years at the FBI, i have never seen anything like that."

"Jack, I don't have a horse in this game, im forensics." Ember reminded him.

"You could have a horse in this game. And it would save many lives." Ember shook her head in disbelief, she knew a simple compliment was too far fetched for Jack Crawford.

"Putting myself out there like that? The victims family members that i had to look in the eyes and shamelessly squeeze answers out of? I felt all their pain, the sorrow and the longing, i absorbed it and it did a number on me. Im not cut out for that." Ember crossed her arms; she knew what being a member of Jacks team would entail.

"So fieldwork isn't your strong suit, do you know how many lives you could save?" Crawford, although frustrating, was surprisingly convincing. 

"What about my life, Jack? You know damn well why i cant take the FBI screening, do you expect me to lie?" He shook his head, thinking for a moment.

"Unofficial FBI consultant, only on the cases we really need you for. I want you to think about it. Think about all of the lives you'll save, and the others you'll bring peace to. You may not think you're cut out for this, but truth be told I cant think of something you'd be better at."

Ember leaned against her car, looking at the floor as she shook her head again.

Now that she was thinking about it, 'Unofficial FBI consultant' didnt sound like the worst job in the world. And if she was being honest with herself, it was either that or going back to being undermined by Lieutenant Wan. At least here, Jack recognised her abilities and how to actually use her skillset for the good of everyone. She sighed deeply, knowing that one day she may very well regret this decision

"Ill do it." She breathed out, raising a finger, "with a few conditions." Jack gestured his hand for her to list them. "Im allowed out whenever I want it, and im going to need a therapist to stop me from blurring the lines." Jack pretended to think about it for a second before accepting.

"I know just the therapist."

I hope you enjoyed!!! This was a little buildup, Hannibal is in the next chapter ;) (Also please let me know if there are any spelling mistakes, typos or grammatical errors, im dyslexic) Stay tuned for chapter two <3

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

hello! I really liked that one ask where the farmer was a dragon, can we have that one with all the sdv bachelors? even some npcs and/or the bachelorettes if you want? thanks!

Heya! You mean the reaction to Dragon!Farmer? Sure, why not! ☺️ (Hope you don't mind if I'll do sdv bachelors only).

Only that past ask specified a male Farmer, but since there's no clarification here, I made Farmer neutral (they/them). Thanks for the ask!

_________________________________________

"Well, now I know exactly what I'm going to call the next chapter of my autobiography." Farmer had to give Elliott credit: their ginger haired husband held his own, not fainting or screaming in terror when they appeared before him in dragon form. Though they realized from the exhausted smile and pale face that it was better to stay close to catch the writer's body at any moment.

Shane kind of quit drinking.... And he never took any of other stuff thar can make so hallucinate. Then why the hell is there a giant reptile flying over his head right now calling him "darling?" That's what only the Farmer calls him.... And now this overgrown lizard landed in front of him and turned to his favorite spouse again, looking at him with a guilty smile. Just a regular Tuesday for Shane, for fuck's sake...

A tense moment for the Farmer themselves as they finally reveal true form to Sebastian, love of their life. They wait for his reaction, what he will respond, shock and horror on the emo's face. But in the end, Sebby's brain goes to autopilot and he spews out, "I've seen bigger." What... Now it was Farmer's turn to gasp in shock. "Have you seen other dragons?" Farmers don't know if they asked it out of surprise or even jealousy, while Sebastian was still stunned.

It seems that Sam's bewilderment and shock passed very quickly, because anyone else would have started showering him with questions: how long or why didn't you tell me before? But not the young guitarist, because the first thing that came to his mind was "Will you take me for a ride? This would be cool!" On the other hand, things got around without panic, so that's good.

Harvey, as a doctor with experience, was mentally prepared for anything. Apparently, not everything, because the poor man fainted at the sight of a huge dragon on the place where just a minute ago Farmer was standing. The local doctor wakes up with a headache, and the first thing he sees is Farmer's worried face, already in human form. Phew, so Harvey was imagining things and it was just a dream, right? Heh, poor Harvey...

"Now what am I going to tell my grandma?" Somewhat surprisingly, Alex uttered those words not because he was surprised by the Farmer's true form itself, but because they scared him so badly that the athlete dropped a dozen eggs. "Honey, we live on a farm, we have plenty of eggs. And anyway - there's a dragon in front of you." "Dragons later, chicken eggs for Grandma first." And he added that they were the weirdest and coolest person in the whole world, and that he loved them. But don't let the Farmer scare him like that again.