#she’s objectively everything annoying about. a person

[oddishfeeling]

made a new enemy at work only she doesn’t know i feel this way about her

[marzipanandminutiae]

god I hope the new 0MFD, G**d Omens, and WWD1TS seasons don't come out all at once (censoring to avoid the tags)

I'll not see a single female character on my dash for a month straight

[commandermahariel]

siiiiiiigh

[mrfoox]

Also I was indirectly called an sub today by my friend and im howling

[canichangemyblogname]

Y’ever get the feeling a friend likes you less than you like them? Or that maybe they don’t even like you as a friend?

[shinysobi]

"it was awkward to see colin flirt and behave like a rake" "he gave me the ick" yes ! that is the fucking point!! congratulations! you have the media literacy skills of a fucking monkey because my 4-year old niece could understand it better than you do.

we are supposed to find colin cringey and annoying and get the ick because that is not who he is. he is not anthony, or simon, or even benedict. colin (apart from gregory) is the sweetest of all bridgerton brothers (i'm going by book canon) and his most identifiable character trait is the fact that he values an emotional connection above everything. he runs away to the continent because he wants to feel that emotional connection. he has meaningless sex in brothels because that is the example he has seen growing up, that is the norm. he tries so hard to fit into the norm. he goes out drinking, adopts an entirely new personality, learns flirtations because that is how he thinks he will fit in. he's got armour on, as violet said. he puts everyone's needs above his own, he stops rambling on and boring his family with details of his trip because he knows no one cares. he doesn't talk to anthony or benedict about his heartaches because he knows they still, somewhere in their heart of hearts, view him as the annoying younger brother. he's so devastated by his closest friend not responding to him that he adopts a new personality in the hopes that it might mask the hurt better. he runs after penelope in episode one because he is so attuned to her emotions that he knows she's hurting, and tries to comfort her even when she's spiraling and lashes out. he must have been hurt by her words in the "good night mr bridgerton" scene but he puts it aside to genuinely apologise to her when literally no one else in that family would do that. colin, instead of brooding over his own feelings, goes and corners penelope in her family's garden and apologises to her, disregarding his own hurt at being cruelly dismissed by his close friend.

penelope asking colin to kiss her is not a mark of how "pathetic" she is. she has written and shamed herself in a manner that is almost entirely unsalvageable. she is at her lowest point, and then portia comes in and reminds her of how undesirable she is, and she sinks even lower. she asks colin to kiss her because she sees it as a final act, after which she can quietly wave goodbye to her dreams of ever getting married and leaving her mother's home. colin kisses her because he is also keenly aware of how she's feeling. he knows how hurt she is, he wants to do anything to alleviate that. be it cracking a joke, or kissing her. he is gentle, because he wants it to be something she can dream of when she's by herself. penelope, at this moment, has no hope for herself, and their kiss is an act of letting go for her. no, it's not a pity kiss, no he did not like her after her glow up, he has always loved her. him being struck dumb is a reaction to her physical transformation, nothing more. he does not flirt with her in that ballroom scene, he only approaches her when she's in distress. he's not flirting with her. i can assure you penelope could wear the frumpiest most neon yellow gown of all time and colin would still go "<333 my pen" for her.

colin jumps to catch the balloon's ropes because he sees that penelope is in danger, he does not give a shit about anyone else lmao. he feels temporary relief when he sees eloise run to safety, but the moment he sees penelope in immediate danger, he rushes to take action. afterwards, when he sees that she's being comforted by debling (all my homies hate debling, even if he is aro/ace coded i do NOT claim him) he does not approach her. it would be easy for him to do so, but he does not, because he respects her boundaries. colin bridgerton is the only man in the ton who respects women (the featherington sons-in-laws are too pretty to have a thought) he calls out fife and his friends for treating women like objects and calls them cavalier. the only way he would have been more explicit about his demisexuality was if he tap danced on the club table (entertaining thought, luke newton please)

colin also rapidly takes action, something which no one in the show has done so far. simon would have died instead of accepting his feelings for daphne, daphne would have been content with a loveless marriage forever instead of asking for help. kate would have pushed edwina down the aisle and gone off to india instead of confronting her own feelings, and anthony would have married edwina if she hadn't been brave enough for the three of them to run from the altar and ruin herself. penelope stood on the sidelines for years and loved him quietly because she had no hope of him loving her back. colin, the moment he is assured of his feelings, runs to penelope, almost kisses her in the middle of a ballroom. when he hears that debling is about to propose, he goes to the ball, just to dissuade penelope one more time. he cuts into their dance because he's desperate. when he runs after her carriage, he asks her if she has been proposed to, because he would not have touched her otherwise. he confesses his feelings to her only when he knows that she hasn't gotten engaged to debling, and when she says "but we are friends" he moves away. nothing more. he would have let her go, if she did not return his feelings.

idk whether i should be flattered or offended at people misunderstanding this season because on one hand it is offensive, but on the other hand, it means only smart people get polin. seriously. your minds have been rotted by insta-love and enemies to lovers that you can't even appreciate the innate beauty of friends to lovers. being friends with someone and then holding all those feelings for them. the trepidation of possible rejection. the fulfillment of being loved by the person who knows you the best of them all. the privilege of loving someone whose feelings you know better than your own. love is gentle and kind and yes it is a violent, uprooting force but above all, love does not hurt anyone. it does not hurt you. i could love someone quietly for years and it wouldn't bother me if their feelings were requited or not because my feelings are none of their business and i consider it a privilege to love and be loved by them, even if it is not in the way i would want it to be. polin are privileged in the highest sense. they know each other better than anyone else, they know how to love each other better than anyone else. to think they are rushed or they dont deserve each other is a disservice to both of them. they would be miserable with anyone else.

in other matters, if i see one more person talking smack about luke or nicola behind the safety of their screens i will personally get a bazooka.

[franzivonkarma]

I desperately need people to understand that Franziska's whipping thing really isn't solely a silly character gimmick. Of course it is to a degree, just like Godot and coffee and Klavier and air guitar in court, but so often I see people dismiss Franziska's whipping trait as an annoying feature that adds nothing to her character and I cannot stand it. This is a bit of a rant and I touch on gender inequality and the way I see a lot of men treat her as a character a decent amount within this because I feel like the fact that she is a woman is actually very important to this element of her character, and her treatment is also a lot of the reason why I feel compelled to talk about this in the first place.

Firstly what you need to understand is that not only is Franziska a woman, she is also laughably young when she becomes a prosecutor. She's a 13 year old girl trying to hold the attention of a courtroom of mostly grown men and be taken seriously. It's no secret that misogyny does exist in the Ace Attorney universe of course (see: Godot), but aside from this, maybe it's just because I've been playing Ace Attorney Investigations recently, but she is just very small all around. It's a running gag in Turnabout Reminiscence that she is short, she's small, she can't see things Edgeworth can - although granted Edgeworth is definitely fairly tall, most estimates I've seen linger around 5'8-5'10 (around 170-180cm). And of course, she is only 13 here, she's not done growing, but it's at this age that she actually did begin to prosecute. Naturally, she'd often be underestimated, and we can see a strong desire to prove herself during Turnabout Reminiscence, even just to her father; I can only imagine that this would extend further into her trials as a young girl. Secondly, she's the daughter of Manfred von Karma, whom she idolises to a godlike status and who teaches her everything she knows about prosecuting, and also a lot about life in general - he's her father. There's a lot I could say about their dynamic, but I feel that much of it doesn't need to be said in this specific post if you're already here dedicated to Franziska enough to bother reading this post.

Manfred's courtroom (and often, regular) behaviour revolves a lot around him taking complete control of the entire courtroom, with him even speaking over the judge, overruling objections he does not like and sustaining his own, and instructing witnesses himself. He also often snaps his fingers to direct attention to himself and his point. Franziska learns this, but how does a literal 13 year old girl follow her father in this regard? Well, by force. Whipping someone is a very clear way to get their attention. Not only the person it hits but the people around - whips cracking are loud, they take up a lot of visual space, and they also obviously cause harm to the person they hit. These are all things you can't really ignore - it forces you to look at her and pay attention to her and gives her control of the room exactly like Manfred. I've also been thinking a lot about the end of Justice For All in relation to this. She's lost to Phoenix multiple times and she couldn't beat him even once just to prove that she was better than Edgeworth as she so desperately wanted to. This brings me to another point about her use of her whip. While I think control is a huge aspect and is my main focus here, I think it falls more under the umbrella of Franziska's own perceived shortcomings. We also know that she doesn't believe she lives up to her father's genius, and that she consistently feels like she's walking in Edgeworth's shadow, she says it herself:

I think at least some part of the reason her whip is so important is because she believes she could very well be less than equal to others in the room in terms of certain traits. She sees her father as a genius, knows she isn't equal to him, and internalises this (whether she is actually less intelligent or not I personally don't know what I believe, I haven't played Justice For All in over a year and a half and I would have to replay it to decide my thoughts).

In having to be perfect, there are many expectations she cannot live up to, and this leads to many ways in which she falls short of what she believes she should be. By using her whip, again, she can account for her perceived shortcomings in other areas - control, her intelligence, her ability as a prosecutor. I think this last scene of JFA actually introduces us to the idea that Franziska is somewhat self-doubting in some ways and compares herself a lot with others, not just Manfred, but also Edgeworth, which we see more of in Ace Attorney Investigations during Turnabout Reminiscence, where we see her at 13 attempting to prove that she can "out-logic" Edgeworth for the entire case, and essentially, that she is "more perfect" than he is.

But to come back to her whip, control, and the end of Justice For All.

She is left with little of who she was before and doesn't know how to move on - everything she was taught to be from the moment she was born, she no longer is. She is 18 here, prosecuting for 5 years already and desperate to be prosecuting for even longer. As far as her life was set out, this was basically it for her - become a perfect prosecutor and prosecute perfectly just like Manfred - the ideal prosecutor in her eyes.

A Von Karma is perfect, but she is not - she lost, just like Edgeworth, whom she shamed for the same thing. She gives up her whip here, and I feel that it's truly symbolic of how she feels like she's completely lost control of herself, her life, her relationship with her father and most obviously her occupation as a prosecutor. How could she continue being a prosecutor when she no longer lives up to the idea of it that she's had her entire life? What use is her whip if she will not need to hold the court's attention any longer?

I'm sure a million other people have thrown their coin in the pot on this exact topic, and I'm sure many have said the same thing as me and many have said something different, but I needed to write my thoughts out about it because I couldn't stop thinking about her. This is one big reason why I feel like I see a lot of men who don't understand Franziska and see her as very annoying, gimmicky, and my least favourite - a "female Edgeworth." She is a woman who steals attention and space forcibly; both from characters in-game, and also from the player with her animations that take up time in trials and a lot of the visual space. Of course this makes her unpopular with a lot of men. I'm not saying that if you dislike her or the whip it comes from a place of misogyny, I am saying that I think her whipping trait is reduced to a stupid, annoying gimmick more than, say, Godot and his coffee, because a lot of people don't really care to see that there is intention behind it that reveals a lot about her character, just like how Godot's coffee problem is relevant to his backstory.

[lilac-witch]

Hi cute! how are you? I hope you're well! You could write about Az returning with Feyre from training and they are talking and Az is so unfocused that he doesn't notice that there is another person in the room besides the ic, so y/n screams and runs out to hug Az and they're over. falling to the ground haha ​​they are best friends who have feelings for each other. Y/n had been away on a mission and didn't know Feyre but she knew her from EVERYTHING Az had been telling her jandjsmcjsldk thanks baby

First request! Super sweet ask and a great idea :)

Gadzooks - Azriel x Reader

masterlist | part 2

Summary: After weeks away on a mission, Y/n returns to her family in the Night Court, with the addition of a new member. And thanks to Azriel, she feels like they've known each other forever. Meaning: "an exclamation of surprise or annoyance" Word Count: 658 Warnings: None.

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

"A letter has arrived for you, m'lady."

Y/n's head drifted from the paperwork before her, to the Peregryn male situated at the door. She motioned for him to come forward, receiving the envelope swiftly.

Once the male had left, Y/n tore into the white paper.

Dear Y/n

So much has happened since you left for Dawn. Feyre is officially living in Velaris, and I've taken over her training regiment. Let's just say her technique could use some work.

She's great though, perfectly suited for Rhys. If only the stubborn bastard would finally confess to her that they're mates.

I miss you. Cassian is as annoying as ever, and Rhys is so busy fretting over Feyre, so there isn't anyone to really talk to.

I hope everything is going well in Dawn, and I can't wait to see you again.

Your loyal friend, Azriel.

Y/n smiled as she finished reading through the letter. Over the many weeks that she had spent in Dawn Court, Azriel had kept her up to date on all things Feyre-related. From their first meeting, to the trauma she'd endured, Y/n knew it all.

Perhaps it was time she returned home. It was coming up on three months since she'd left, and Thesan seemed to no longer require her services. Yes, it was time to return to Velaris.

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

"You did well today," Azriel said as he and Feyre strode through the halls of the House of Wind.

"I feel like I'm getting stronger. The regimes no longer hurt so much," she laughed.

"Well then, maybe they could do with an upgrade," Azriel stated, lips twitching upwards into a smirk.

"Don't you dare, Shadowsinger."

Azriel was about to open his mouth in retort, when a solid object collided with his body, propelling him towards the floor.

Azriel would have been concerned regarding his shadows' lack of vigilence, or even his own instincts having not kicked it, had it not been for the warm vanilla scent that filled his nose.

"Y/n..." he mutter, arms wrapping around her warm body. "When did you get back?"

"A little while ago," she muttered into his neck, hot breath hitting his skin in the most delectable way.

"I missed you," he whispered.

"I missed you too, Az."

The heartfelt moment didn't last long, courtesy of his brother.

"If you two lovebirds are done, I believe introductions are in order."

Azriel glared daggers into Cassian's skull, doing his damnedest to keep the blush that crept up his neck, at bay.

He helped Y/n up, hands lingering on her waist for a second longer than what just 'friends' would do.

Rhysand cleared his throat, stepping towards the female at his side.

"Feyre, meet Y/n, the last member of our inner circle, and my most trusted emissary. Y/n meet Feyre..."

"I've heard all about you," Y/n stated, mouth spread wide in a smile. "All good things of course."

Feyre's face grew warm, and her eyes met Azriel's.

"Is that so?"

Y/n nodded, taking a cautious step forward, before wrapping an arm around Feyre, guiding her towards the kitchen.

"Indeed it is, and what better way to get to know me than over a cup of tea. Has Azriel mentioned I make a mean cup of tea?"

"He has not," Feyre stated, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

"Hm, how rude," Y/n huffed, smiling at Azriel as the pair disappeared from sight.

He felt his stomach flutter at the sight of that beautiful smile. It had been too long since he'd last seen it.

"You know, you complain about me not confessing to Feyre, but I've had to watch you tiptoe around Y/n for over a century," Rhys drawled, a teasing smirk on his obnoxiously handsome face.

"No one asked you," Azriel grumbled, heading in the direction the two females had gone, in hopes of escaping more of his brother's playful jabs.

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

And I'm back!

it feels so good to be able to write again, and to be able to bring your requests to life. A reminder that my inbox is open to all your dreams and wishes ;)

Until next time lovelies :)

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt behind the cut; "Tim's free cloning lab". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Red Robin’s commitment issues are his own problem, not mine. I’ve got a schedule to keep,” Luthor replies dismissively, then knocks back the last of his hopefully-actually-a-protein-shake-and-not-Bane-venom-or-something and gets to his feet, picking up his tablet again as he does. He does not seem concerned to be alone in a lab full of sharp objects and computers with two only negligibly-restrained Bats. Admittedly Luthor doesn’t tend to seem concerned during literal multiversal apocalypses, but Tim is vaguely insulted on principle. A multiversal apocalypse couldn’t do any worse than uncreate Luthor and everything he’s ever done in his life, after all. He could tank his stock prices and drive up all his insurance rates, and then make him have to live with it. 

A little respect isn’t that much to ask, is it? 

“Wow, called out by the supervillain,” Steph mutters to him under her breath. “The Metropolis supervillain, even.” 

“I do not have commitment issues,” Tim mutters back to her. 

“Yes you do, the issue is you commit yourself to somebody and then become an insane person about them but never actually mention the existence of said commitment to them,” she retorts frankly. 

“I do not–” 

“When did you go for the red and black suit again and how long did you stick with it?” 

“. . . we’re in a supervillain lair in Connecticut, I don’t have to answer that right now.” 

“Oh, so you will later?” 

“So anyway, new supervillain trap, how’s that going for you?” Tim asks Luthor. Steph snorts at him; he ignores her and all her baseless, ridiculous, baseless accusations that are definitely not currently reading him for absolute filth. “All coming together nicely, no tech issues? Because we could troubleshoot those for you while we’re waiting for extraction, no charge.” 

“The chemical breakdown of the necessary stabilizer you missed when you were cleaning out my old labs is laid out in file B-2.13, speaking of ‘troubleshooting’,” Luthor mentions, and Tim . . . pauses. 

“‘Stabilizer’,” he echoes carefully, and then glances around the sunroom lab. The sunroom cloning lab. 

The sunroom. 

Ah. 

That is probably a connection he should've made, like . . . literally instantly, yeah. 

“Oh my god, do you think you can actually convince Red Robin to make you another–wait, why do you even want Red Robin to make you another Superman or whatever, you did it better than he ever did,” Steph says, squinting in bewilderment at Luthor through her mask. Tim’s much more insulted this time, even if it’s objectively true that Kon is objectively–never mind. Luthor just looks dubious. 

“I don’t want another Superman, there are already far too many of those running around and being an issue as it is,” he snorts dismissively, waving her off. “And I’m willing to provide a useful little resource or two, of course, but it’s hardly traditional to have to make my own grandchildren, now is it. Besides, Supernova won’t be as annoyed about it if they come from you. Though I did include some potential design notes for your consideration in the C folder, of course. Streamlined the tactile telekinesis a bit, for starters. It really didn’t come out as effective as intended, unfortunately.” 

“Of course,” Tim echoes, perfectly aware of that one time that Kon took apart every single gun inside the exact city limits of Los Angeles and nothing else without even meaning to, and also that one time last week when he very much did mean to disassemble a bomb immediately after its trigger mechanism had been tripped, and did it so fast that it didn't detonate. 

So as politely as possible, that makes Luthor’s use of the word “effective” slipped in there a little mind-numbingly terrifying to consider. 

More than anything else, though, Tim really hopes that he’s just gone insane and hallucinated all this, because otherwise he’s going to have to write all this down in a report, and Steph will not lie for him about this one. 

Case in point: she is currently laughing her fucking ass off at him.

[cameronspecial]

Barry leaves, asking Rafe to watch his sister, who overhears and objects. Despite her attempts to seduce Rafe, He declines. That night after Barry goes to sleep he confesses his love to her and they have passionate slow sex

Whispered I Love Yous

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

Masterlist

Rafe has always seen Y/N as Barry’s little sister and it annoys her to no end. Every attempt she makes to get the year older man into her bed is turned away. Even in her best outfit during a party, he still doesn’t want her. “I’ve told you before, Honey. I’m not going to sleep with you, so stop trying,” he declines. She groans, stepping away from him and buttoning up her shirt to hide her breasts. The only person she wants to see is Rafe. She pouts, “You are no fun.” She storms away to get a drink and misses the want in his eyes. It kills him to say no to her because everything in him wants to pound into her until she forgets her name, except his need to have more with her stops him. She only wants sex and Rafe wants love added to the mix. So he denies them both what they need because if he is going to have her, he craves every part of him. 

She returns to the couch area to find Rafe in conversation with her brother and does a little eavesdropping. “I need you to watch over her for a bit. I got to head back home for a second to take care of business and I don’t trust your Kook friends around her,” Barry orders, stuffing some of the drugs he hasn’t sold yet into Rafe’s pocket. Rafe nods, “You got it.” She rushes between the two and faces her brother. “No, no, no. I don’t need a babysitter. I am eighteen, Bare. Plus, Rafe doesn’t even like me,” she complains. Barry chuckles, “You don’t have a choice. You are going to sit on that couch where Rafe can see you and listen to what he tells you to do. If you don’t, then you can find another place to sleep.” She can’t respond because he storms out of Tannyhill to head home. “I-” Rafe tries to tell her she doesn’t hate him, but she leaves before he can finish talking. On her way to the couch, she grabs a random Touron and shoves him on the furniture. She straddles the man, beginning to make out with him. Anger boils within Rafe and he wants to shove her off of him, except a client comes over to make a purchase from him.

———

Rafe didn’t see her after Barry returned and she was allowed to leave the couch. He assumed that she went to the guest room she was given for the night with the Touron and Rafe hated the thought, so he tried his best to push her out of his mind. It works until Barry goes to bed and he doesn’t have to sell coke or a party to occupy his mind. He looks around the room at the cups and beer bottles littering the floor and thinks about starting to clean before he decides to leave it for tomorrow. 

He heads upstairs, passing the room Y/N is sleeping in. A noise coming from the room causes him to pause. “Rafe, I love you.” He can’t believe it. Y/N just moaned out he loved her. She must not have brought the Touron up. He knocks on the door and doesn’t get a response. His ear presses to the door to see if he can hear any shuffling and when he hears nothing, he does what he probably shouldn’t and opens it. He finds her asleep in bed; fully clothed, so she couldn’t have been masturbating. 

The words he heard her mumble in her sleep gave him the confidence to do what he was about to do next. He rests his hand on her shoulder and gently shakes her awake. Her eyebrows knit together as her eyes flutter open, “Rafe, what are you doing here?” 

His confession rushes out of his mouth. “I don’t hate you. I just can’t have only sex with you. I need more with you because I love you. I want dates and whispering I love you when we wake up in the morning. I declined your advances because I want a relationship with you and I thought you only wanted sex.” 

He holds his breath as he waits for her response. He knows the moment that she fully wakes up and processes his words. She wraps her arms around him, bringing her lips to his. He is pulled forward and her legs tangle around him so she is flush against him. His hips grind against her, causing her to moan out in pleasure. They quickly shed their clothes and he sees her preparing to go down on him. He keeps her in place, “As much as I would love to feel your mouth, I need to be inside of you. We will have plenty of time to show each other how good we are with our mouths.” Her head bobs at his words and she watches while he uses his hand to guide his dick inside of her. She gasps as he thrusts into her. The pace is slow and deep. A testament to the feelings brewing between them. 

The positions they are in allow them to stare into each other’s eyes. He thinks about speeding up; however, he feels how she clenches around him and knows this is the pace for the moment right now. He brings his hips back out, easing himself back in to hit that part inside of her that has her moaning louder. Tears brim in her eyes and worries floods him. He brings a hand to her cheek, “Are you okay, Honey? Am I hurting you? Should I stop?” She shakes her head vehemently and grips his bum, helping him into her. “Don’t stop. I’m just really happy to be doing this right now with you because… Because I love you.” Love fills him completely and he uses his other hand to caress her arm. He brings their lips together and then rests his forehead forward against hers. “I love you too, Honey. So much,” he promises. She kisses him with a grin on her face. 

They continue their movements until they are brought to the edge. Once they come down from their high, he pulls out of her and carries her to his own bedroom after checking that the coast is clear. He tucks her into his bed and goes to get a damp towel from the bathroom.

He cleans her off, getting them both robes from the back of his door. He helps it onto her and they cuddle into each other as they fall asleep.

———

“I love you, Honey,” a voice whispers. This pulls her from her slumber. Her eyes flick to the window to find golden light trying to shine through the curtain. She looks toward the figure beside her and she smiles. She presses her lips to his, “I love you too.” 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[gilbirda]

Personal coach Red Hood

Here have this as I turn off my computer to go the fuck to sleep.

Part 1 | Part 3

---

Ever since that weirdo jumped at him a few days ago, Jason couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched. He didn’t believe the woman was working for a major villain or was out to get him — she proved she could hold her ground in a fight, so she could have attacked him any time if that was her objective — but he was starting to think something more sinister was going on.

Glimpses of her long red hair on the corner of his vision, always just out of sight, but close enough to make him paranoid to check every shadow and every corner, waiting to see her jump at him with that stupid smile.

What was her deal, anyway?

Personal trainer? Mentor?

What does that even mean?

Whatever, he was going to ignore her until she gave up. It didn’t matter the reason she thought it was a good idea to follow a vigilante, and former crime lord, around the worst parts of Gotham; but he was going to make sure she abandoned the fixation on him and went back to her life.

***

She did not give up.

That woman — Jazz, she said — was relentless and inserted herself in the wildest situation just for a chance to talk to him. Was she trying to prove she could take it? That she was strong? That she was worthy?

In any case, Jazz ended up as the most consistent hostage, kidnapped, mugged person in Crime Alley. Always there, with a giant smile and her stupid notepad, like a crazy woman.

He was starting to think she was actually insane.

“But it’s fun!” Stephanie insisted one time. “It's like you have your own number one fan!”

Jason groaned. 

The others learned about the stalker and of course twisted the whole thing like it was anything other than annoying and inconvenient. Dick said it was romantic, but Damian was the only one sane and agreed that her stalking tendencies could prove dangerous.

Then… Then that’s when he started finding food.

He knew where it came from, because the woman always waited nearby and watched him investigate the containers, holding her breath, and groaning when he threw the containers away or left them abandoned.

One day he was too weak and tried one. It was pasta. He was very hungry, coming back from a long campaign to rip apart a new drug ring forming under his nose. He was injured and was positive that everything at his apartment was not edible, so he risked it. He was immune to a lot of poisons, so he was positive he wouldn’t die from this.

It was the worst plate of pasta he had ever tried.

Who fucks up pasta?

Overcooked and undercooked at the same time, and you can tell she tried making bolognese sauce from scratch, but it just wasn’t working. Also it needed salt.

He didn’t finish it and looked at the woman — Jazz — in the eye as he threw away the rest.

[spookie-bitch]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚Mischief*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Demon!Reader Contains: 🤷‍♀️ TW: None I can think of, lmk if there is any Word count:716 An: my requests are open :)

You tossed your bag down by your bed and sat down, "Why in the world does principal Weems think it's a good idea to give me another roommate," you think angrily, "It won't end any different than the last few and she knows it!" Nonetheless you still had taken the time out of your day to clear out half of the room to accommodate for them, even though they won't be there for longer than two weeks. Weems always said it was because I was just more than they were used too, but I think we both know that the're actually scared, everyone is. Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock at the door. "That's strange," you thought looking at your watch,"the're not supposed to be here for another hour." You make your way over to the door, opening it to be met my principal Weem's smiling face. "Your early," you say dryly. "Just wanted to check in before they arrive," she says, "But by the looks of it you've already got everything under control," she says in a proud tone, surveying the room. You say nothing, hoping that your silence would imply that you were already done with the conversation. "I know what your probably thinking," she says, " but I believe that you and this girl will become the best of friends." You sigh, slightly annoyed with the conversation, "That's what you said about the other ones too," you remind her. She frowns, "Look y/n, I want you to try your best with this one," she says in a more serious tone, "I usually don't ask that much of you in these situations, so I ask that you just to your best." "Fine," you reply bitterly. She seems satisfied with your answer, "well then, I'll be on my way then," she says turning to leave. "No promises," you yell, closing the door before she has the chance to respond. You sit back down on your bed and put your headphones on, frustrated and annoyed, you tail flicking back and forth viciously as a sign of your annoyance. After a while, their is another knock on the door and you groan, pausing the music coming from your headphones and opening the door. "Wednesday, this is y/n," Weems said giving you her usual smile. "Oh it has horns dear," remarks a tall, pale, woman with long, raven hair. "I am not an it," you growl, your tail wrapping around your legs definitely, causing Weems to look a bit nervous. The girl who you assume is Wednesday gives you a slow look up and down, her expression remaining cold and emotionless. After a few moments of awkward silence, principle Weems breaks the silence, "well why don't we go and get Wednesday's schedule and after Ms. Y/n can give her a tour of the school." Nobody objects to the idea and they turn to leave, but before Weems closes the door she gives you a look that tells you not to do anything stupid while showing the girl around. After a bit, only the girl returned to the room, you had been sitting on your bed listening to music while waiting. "I believe you're supposed to show me around this prison," stated Wednesday, surveying you again. You look back at the pigtailed girl, guy up off the bed and walk towards the door, clearly agitated. "Someone's in a mood," Wednesday comments, following you. Once you finish showing her around, you plop back down on your bed and begin to draw, praying that you will be left alone. Lucky, Wednesday minds her own business and stays on her side of the room doing God knows what when a thought pops into your mind. "Wednesday sure is a weird name," you blirt out almost to quickly, instantly regretting it as all motion in the room stopps. "So I've been told," replies Wednesday. "As far as names go, it's not the most traditional. But that's fine by me, I'm not exactly the most traditional person." "What's your deal anyway, you've barely said a word since you got here and you've just been silently judging everyone," you add, intrigued by the girls unnatural behavior.

"I find social interaction tiresome and pointless," she replies dryly. "Of course you do."

[ficnation]

Chapter 3: Splattered Brains

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,6k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings A/n: Plot twist—I couldn't wait. Enjoy it, my darlings. (unedited)

Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Will looks through the peephole before opening the door, his entire body tense. He glances back at you apologetically, and you know he wants to continue where you left off. You want more too, but you understand—there’s the world outside, with its mysteries and its demands, and you both have to confront it.

The woman on the other side of the door is someone you don’t really recognize. Her face rings a bell somewhere in the back of your head, but you can’t say for sure you’ve met her before. She doesn’t seem like a person that would linger in your memory for long.

“Will,” the woman acknowledges him, red lips pressed into a thin line.

“Alana,” he responds, his tone flat and devoid of any sympathy. “What brings you here?” 

Will’s face is frozen in a state of neutrality, neither annoyed nor pleased by the woman’s presence—it’s impassive. A tiny part of you wonders if he’s ever looked at you with this much disinterest.  You know he doesn’t have it in him, he loves you with his entire being, but the idea makes a sour grimace crawl onto your face.

There’s no happy greeting between them, and it’s selfishly comforting even though it shouldn’t be. You don’t know her at all, yet she seems to be the polar opposite of what you stand for. 

Alana’s eyes flit across the room, landing on you for the first time, and as her gaze lingers, she raises her eyebrow. Her face has a timeless quality, sharp angles, and beautiful, expressive eyes. But something about her doesn’t sit right with you. That look she sends you as if she’s inspecting you, trying to analyze you—you hate it.

“Don’t ask me that question when you already know the answer to it,” she says, her tone just as cold and detached as Will’s. “I’m here for a reason, Will. And the less you drag this out, the better.”

You notice Will’s fists clench at her words, you take his hand in yours, dragging the pads of your fingers across his white knuckles. He relaxes under your soothing touch. You take a step closer to him, pressing yourself against his shoulder.

“Just get to your point,” Will says, his coldness making the situation all the more tense. “What do you want from me?”

Alana stares at your entwined hands then her eyes meet yours again, and Will notices how her attention is immediately pulled solely to you—as if everything else is bathed in a thick fog. You notice how her lips slowly curve downward, just a bit. You think she might be envious.

She bites the inside of her cheek, proving you right. She’s jealous. You can’t help but smirk at this realization. Will glances at you, asking wordlessly for an explanation, because whatever game this is, he’s clearly not in the loop. You don’t give him what he wants this time.

“I will give you some privacy then,” you suggest, whistling at the dogs to follow you outside. You don’t have to call for them twice, as they run toward the door, waggling their tails. “Just don’t take too long. I don’t want to keep Crawford waiting.”

Before Will can object, the dogs dash out the door, and you follow in their steps, shutting it behind you. You know you did the right thing by giving them some space. How she treated Will was unforgivable, but he has to fight this one battle by himself—if you stayed there by his side, you’d probably bash her head against the wall. Not today. This fight has to be his.

You look over at the door, and you think you can hear their voices through the walls, but you’re not entirely sure. After a few moments, the door opens and Alana storms out. She doesn’t even look at you, she just turns on her heel and walks away, leaving Will behind.

You lean against the railing of the porch, the dogs snuggling up against your calves for pets and scratches—something you never deny them. It’s a moment of peace in a world full of chaos, and you can’t help but enjoy it all—even the chill bite of the winter air. It’s refreshing after spending all night and morning with Will, whose body radiated so much heat, and who left you breathless every time he was close.

He steps out on the porch, and you turn to face him, confusion written across your features. The man only shakes his head, staring at her retreating back. You don’t pry, and he doesn’t tell. There’s a wordless understanding between the two of you already—he’ll tell you when he’s ready, and his emotions are no longer an overwhelming susurration.

Will takes his place at your side, elbows leaning on the wooden balustrade. Both of you watch in silence as Alana Bloom walks down the driveway, soon disappearing from your view. 

“You don’t like her much, huh?” you ask, voice laced with irony.

You don’t really expect an answer, so he only rolls his eyes. But there is a hint of sadness in them, a tiny sign of his own disappointment, at himself, her—all of it. He takes your hand in his and leans forward to kiss your icy-cold cheek.

He pulls away then, his gaze fixed on you. “We should get going,” he says quietly. “You don’t want to keep Jack waiting.”

And he’s right. You’ve been out here a little too long, and Jack is bound to be impatient by now. You’re sure he’s already called twice to ask you where you are.

Your cheek still tingles from the kiss, but you remain focused on the way Will’s expression shifts slightly. He’s crestfallen, there’s no denying it, and you know this conversation took a toll on him—even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He calls the dogs inside, then locks the door. You squeeze his hand, and with a sigh of resignation, the two of you head to the car.

The cold has gotten to your skin, and you can feel every pore of your body aching for warmth. The windshield is covered in a thin layer of snow, and your body shivers as you wait for Will to swipe it off with his glove-covered hand. Even though he already unlocked the car, you refuse to let him suffer in the unforgiving winter alone.

Once he’s done, he joins your side and opens the passenger door for you. The protest on the tip of your tongue dies off when he guides you inside with a steady hand on the small of your back—you comply. He closes it behind your back with a satisfied grin that doesn’t really reach his eyes. He gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, warming it from within.

You put on the seatbelt, and relax your muscles, letting your fingers trail along the armrest and the door, enjoying the warmth against your skin. Your mind is wandering, lost in memories of the morning and the little moments you shared with Will. 

“You know…” Will starts from behind the wheel, his eyes don’t stray from the road ahead. There’s a quiet moment between you two while he considers what he has to say, and when he finally talks, he barely mumbles the words under his breath, “I was thinking…”

“About what?” You raise your eyebrow in curiosity, giving him all your attention and more.

“Well, I was thinking…” he pauses for a moment, the words struggling to leave his lips, he’s visibly tense.

You want to say something, help him find the words. It’s clear he needs a little push. So you reach up and caress his stubbled jaw—the lightest of touches—hoping the gesture can help ease him out of this nervous state.

It works. Will sucks on his bottom lip for a moment, still facing forward, but at least his face is calm now. “I’ve always been in love with you.” Even though it’s only a whisper, the confession sounds like thunder in your ears—its rumble shaking every tiny cell in your brain. “I never said it out loud until you disappeared. I regret it to this day.”

That’s all it takes for your chest to tighten and your heart to start hammering wildly. It makes you wonder if you’re on the verge of having a heart attack. You know you love this man—you know more than anyone else on this earth just how strong your feelings are for him. You were always aware that he reciprocated it—in his own intricate way, but there was no way to be absolutely certain. Hearing him say it now—gifted your mind with a blissful sense of peace.

You look at him, and you can’t find the words to respond. Nothing that comes to mind is even faintly close to what you feel for him, so you settle for a gentle squeeze of his thigh.

Will glances at you, his eyes roaming over the curve of your cheekbones, the shape of your lips, the long lashes fluttering over your eyes—you’re breathtaking. You don’t even need to respond—he knows how you feel already, and he’s just happy to have you by his side again. He’s head over heels, hopelessly and utterly—in love.

“I’ve never met anyone who made me feel the way you do,” Will continues, and the words ring out in the cramped space of the car. “Nobody has ever seen me the way you do. Nobody has ever loved me the way you do. You’ve been the only light in my darkness, the only source of hope in my life.” His voice softens with every word, and he doesn’t look at you as he talks, afraid he’ll get distracted if he does. He just needs to get it all out.

Your smile is so bright when he catches it in his peripheral vision—it could probably replace the stars at night. He takes a pause, and you wonder if all those words have made him feel better. It seems like that’s the case—he looks so much more peaceful next to you, no longer tense from holding in everything he felt.

Will chuckles, and it fills the air with a different kind of light that washes over you and makes you feel just a bit warmer. Just as you retract your hand from his thigh, his own reaches past the center console, his palm grazing your knee to find it again. He interlaces his fingers with yours, and you think you’ll die of joy, and you wish the drive in the car never had to end—you could stay like this, his hand clasped tightly to yours, forever.

Silence falls between the two of you, but you’re so close to each other that it feels like there’s no need to speak. The tension in the car is gone, and Will’s words still linger in your mind. I’ve always been in love with you…

You’re so caught up in this elation, you don’t even notice when you reach your destination. The brutalist architecture of BAU’s building makes you feel intimidated—more than you anticipated. It’s cold, uninviting. There’s also another feeling that crawls over your skin, a sense of dread, but you shake it off before it can completely take over.

Will pulls into a parking spot, turns off the engine, and faces you. “We’re here,” he says, a grim expression on his face. It’s so different from how you just saw him a mere moment ago.

You share that expression. You feel it on your face, the weight of it pressing down on your soul as you slowly realize that you’ll need to step away from the bubble of happiness you’ve been in. It’s not a bubble you would ever want to pop—so you have to leave it behind. Shut it off.

You take in the headquarters’ exterior, its harsh outlines, and the shadows it casts on the already grim streets of Quantico. Your stomach sinks. There’s a part of you that missed this place, being in the field and helping people—it used to be your dream—but now you despise it. You don’t want to go back to seeing dead bodies over and over again, hearing the murmur of their whispers that never disturb the air and never leave you in silence for too long.

“I’ll take you inside,” Will offers, but you don’t really have a say in it either way. Of course, he notices the solemnity on your face. He puts his hand on your cheek, the skin of your cold face against his warm palm warming you for a brief moment. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you answer simply. You don’t have to say anything more.

Will gently caresses your jaw, thumb brushing softly against your lower lip. His eyes are filled with concern for you. He nods slowly, his hand still on your cheek. You can’t even explain what you’re feeling right now, but he understands as much—he’s been there too.

“I know it’s not easy,” Will says softly. “But I’m sure Crawford won’t keep you there long.”

You’re about to voice your doubts, the million reasons as to why this is a terrible idea, but then you pause. You can’t seem to find them—there is no single coherent thought in your head, the stress of the day finally taking its toll on you.

Will sighs and pulls away, leaving his hand hanging in the air for a while before he finally rests it on his own thigh. He climbs out of the car, and you take a few deep breaths to try to quiet the voices inside your head. You don’t know what you need, you just know that you don’t want this.

You step out, and the silence between the two of you doesn’t go unnoticed. Will reaches out to you once again and puts a hand on your shoulder, as if he can’t decide what to do, either. He looks over your shoulder—at the towering building in the distance.

The man sighs and steps closer to you. He looks at you, eyes roaming over your face, scanning every single detail of your expression. His voice is soft, almost a whisper. “I know it doesn’t feel right being back here,” he says, his hands still resting gently on your shoulders. “But I need you to be strong, for just a few minutes. Okay? This might be important.”

You nod, willing to do anything for him—anything at all. The deep breath you take in almost makes your lungs flutter in outrage.

“That’s my girl,” he says, his voice a little softer than usual.

He pulls away finally but doesn’t let go of you entirely. His hand holds tight to your fingers, and Will starts to walk you toward the building. It’s cold, windy, and you’re not looking forward to a single second of being inside that building. You’d much better prefer to freeze here outside—maybe turn into an ice sculpture if you’re lucky.

There is an undeniable uneasiness in Will’s expression as he opens the big doors and ushers you inside. It’s a big lobby, and every person there is busy with tasks, on the phone, typing something or other away on their computers.

You see Crawford sitting on one of the couches in a corner that almost resembles a waiting room. He glances at Will, and his expression only hardens upon seeing you two together. You want to run away, but Will has a grip on your arm and doesn’t let go.

“Come with me,” Crawford says to you, his tone stern and a little annoyed, probably by the fact you’re twenty minutes late. “We need to have a long conversation.”

You share an unsure look with Will, he nods encouragingly.  You feel his hand gripping yours, and you notice how shaky you are. For a moment, you wonder what the hell you’ve signed yourself up for by coming here.

Crawford heads for the nearest elevator, not waiting for you to catch up with him. His attitude is clear—he’s annoyed, and he wants results. That’s how it’s always been, but you never got the chance to get used to it.

“I will be here when you come back,” Will promises, tentatively releasing you from his hold.

You nod in acknowledgment before following after your former boss with hurried footsteps.

It’s a tense, uncomfortable, and entirely too silent ride up to the top floor. The lights are bright, almost blinding, as the elevator rises. Crawford stands by your side, arms crossed over his chest, face expressionless. You wonder what he even needed you here for.

He walks ahead of you and takes out a keycard from one of his pockets. A moment later, he uses it to open a door in the hallway, revealing a large office. The lights inside are dim, almost cozy, and the view from the large windows is one you recognize. Crawford heads inside, telling you to follow with an exasperated sigh.

“They moved your office two more doors down the hallway,” you notice, looking around in curiosity. You hope your poor attempt at loosening the atmosphere works, even just a bit.

Once Crawford chuckles at your words, you know you succeeded. “You’ve always looked for distraction, haven’t you?”

He takes a seat behind his desk and motions for you to do the same. He spends a few moments looking you up and down with a blank expression, the kind he usually reserved for suspects at interrogation.

“Have I changed that much?”

Crawford shakes his head, a grin forming on his lips. “Not really.” He sighs and leans back in his chair, taking in the view from the nearby window. “Though you look older than I remember.”

“It’s been long eight years,” you admit with a nod. You don’t even want to think about all the new wrinkles that materialized on your face through those years.

His eyes travel over the length of your arms, and then over your face again. “I can see time’s been hard on you,” he says. You know he’s not referring to your physical appearance, and that’s what stings the most. “You haven’t had it easy, have you?”

“I managed.” You don’t give him more than that. The stories of your suffering are yours to tell when you feel ready—and you don’t.

Crawford’s lips narrow as he considers your response. He doesn’t seem to be one who accepts “I managed” as an answer. Then again, he’s never been the patient type. You’re surprised when he doesn’t question you further on the matter.

He leans forward to grab a folder from inside his drawer. “I brought you here because I wanted to talk to you about Hannibal Lecter.”

You sit up straight and lean forward in your chair. Your eyes, bright and curious, are fixed on Crawford, who seems to notice it.

“You seem interested,” he says in the same neutral tone as always. He opens the folder and starts flipping through the pages. Then, he sets the folder down and looks straight at you. “I’m here to ask you a question,” Crawford says, “and I want you to think very hard about your answer before you say it.”

The room is quiet, still, and your heart is beating frantically in your chest. The silence stretches on, and it’s so loud you can practically hear it. 

“Do you believe the Chesapeake Ripper murdered your father’s killer?”

You study Jack for a moment, noticing the gleam in his dark eyes, and the way he focuses entirely on your response. You weigh your options—you can deny it and trust that Will already has a plan to catch Hannibal, or you can tell the truth and hope your former boss doesn’t consider you delusional.

“Yes, or no?” Crawford urges you, his tone sharp. It takes all your willpower not to answer right away.

“I do,” you blurt out finally with a resigned sigh. “I think he did it.”

The man nods slowly, his lips pressed together in thought. He doesn’t seem surprised by what you told him—it almost makes you wonder how much he already knows.

“Do you have any proof?” he asks. That’s the million-dollar question, and you know your former boss isn’t asking it just to make conversation. “Do you have anything to support your claim?”

“I wasn’t allowed near the evidence.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

You feel your stomach twisting into knots for a second, but you remain calm. Crawford is not the kind of man you can lie to, so you take a breath and say what you have to say, the words spilling out of your mouth on their own.

“I know it sounds crazy,” you admit, “and I can’t say that I expected you to believe me. But I know I’m right about this.” You can feel Crawford judging you with his relentless gaze, so you continue, “He lost far too much blood, yet there was no sign of it pooled around him. Not the amount he’s lost. It’s almost as if it was drained out of him.”

Crawford only nods. He doesn’t look at you like you’re crazy—he looks at you like he’s studying a puzzle. He considers your words, staring at your face, his expression still and unchanging. Your words feel like they’re bouncing in the air, waiting for a response, for something that isn’t silence.

“And you’re sure there’s no other plausible explanation for it?” his tone is curious, interested.

Your heartbeat quickens as you shake your head back and forth. “No, that’s impossible.”

He’s intrigued now. The man doesn’t say a word, but you can tell from the way he looks at you. Crawford looks like he almost believes you. He’s interested, alright—very interested.

“Do you think it was Hannibal?” he asks. You notice the change in his tone, and you know a yes or no response will not be enough for Crawford this time. He needs the answer to satisfy his curiosity.

He has an aloof expression on his face, the kind that never truly gives away his thoughts. It keeps you hanging in uncertainty, because you have no idea what you should tell him that could possibly sate that curiosity.

“I believe Will.” Your answer is short, devoid of anything he was hoping for.

Crawford doesn’t seem to like that answer, at least by the way his eyes narrow and the way his lips tighten into a thin line. Then, after a momentary pause, he leans forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his desk.

“And what’s this belief based on?” he asks, his tone demanding, almost a challenge. He’s expecting you to tell him, to give him a reason to believe you.

“He’s not insane, Jack.”

“What makes you think he’s sane?”

You don’t hesitate when you give your answer this time. “Because I know him.”

You notice his eyes studying you once again, his gaze not stopping on any detail of your face. He doesn’t comment on what you just told him, and doesn’t tell you whether he believes you or not. Instead, he leans back in his chair once again and sighs. He lets his fingers tap against the wood of the table for a moment, a small sound in the quiet office.

“Your father’s case will be reopened. Be prepared to be questioned again,” he says, his voice very much like the Crawford you know. “Now I need you to answer me one last question.”

“What is it?” You tilt your head, you almost look curious, as if whatever he wants to ask isn’t something that worries you. It’s a carefully built facade, and you hope he doesn’t see straight through it.

It’s an uncomfortable few moments, as Crawford takes a break from his tapping to look straight at you with those intense eyes. The wait is almost killing you—but the tension in his expression might be even more deadly. He’s thinking deeply, and whatever he’s just figured out isn’t anything that you would like to be privy to.

“I want to offer you a deal,” is all he says. He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What deal?”

Crawford takes a deep breath as if he’s been holding it in for the better part of his life.

“I want you to go back to BAU.”

“No.”

He blinks, completely caught off guard by your response. You didn’t think saying no would be that easy. He pauses before his lips form a firm line. 

“That wasn’t a request,” he says.

“Well, you can’t really force me.” You shrug your arms—not even slightly moved by the intimidating raise of his eyebrow.

“Actually, I can.”

The air around you changes. You can feel the meaning behind his threat like a heavy weight, pressing down on your skin, suffocating you. You go to breathe, but find that the air is suddenly too thin, that it’s like breathing underwater. The world around you buzzes like a lightbulb before it explodes.

You can hear the screams of your sister, her wretched sobs, her desperate begging for you to stop. The buzzing gets louder—the image of your father’s body sliding down the wall as his brains splattered over the flowery wallpaper burns alive in your mind. 

You blink once, then twice, making sure there’s no suspicion nor satisfaction on Crawford’s face. There isn’t and relief washes over you like a wave—one that’s perfect for surfing.

“You can’t.”

Crawford’s face contorts, his lips twisting into a frown. He eyes you carefully. You can tell his mind is racing, trying to come up with something to make you join his team. There’s a heavy silence between the two of you as if you could hear a pin drop. You wait carefully with your breath bated and watch your former boss, waiting to see what he’ll do.

“Do you want your sister’s case solved or not?” he taunts. So that was his leverage over you. 

It’s almost jarring to hear him mention her, to see him play this card. You take a deep breath and keep yourself calm. His thought process was on point—you had to give him that. You’d do anything for your sister and to get rid of that stormy cloud hanging over your head anytime the room was too quiet or someone dared to mention her person.

“Yes,” you agree finally, “I want her case solved.”

“Then go back to BAU. It’s your answer.”

That tone of his makes it hard not to laugh out loud. You thought it might be that simple—a yes or no, two letters of the alphabet. That didn’t apply to Jack Crawford, it seems. He wants an answer, and he will get one. A smile curls on your lips as you consider how to proceed. You’d have liked to have more leverage in terms of negotiation, but unfortunately, you have none.

“Then make me an offer worth my while.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait with a raised eyebrow.

Crawford is still the boss you know and love, albeit slightly confused by your attitude. It’s clear that this isn’t how he expected you to respond. His lips curl into a frown again, but he seems to think of something suddenly.

“I want you to join BAU as Will Graham’s partner. You’ve worked with him before, and I need you on the team,” he asserts. “I need you to look at his cases from your perspective. You will have access to all resources we have available at the bureau. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”

You can’t help the surprise that colors your expression now. Working with Will again, and having access to the FBI’s resources, it’s impossible to say no. Now you might have a chance against the cunning mind of Hannibal Lecter.

You don’t even hesitate as you say, “Deal.” 

Crawford’s eyes soften as he hears your answer, and you can tell he’s glad you’re not going to give him a difficult time.

“The decision is yours, then,” he says finally. Your eyes meet his. “Will you go back to BAU?” 

You nod in response, showing him the brightest of your smiles. “Absolutely.”

[annie-creates]

Beautiful I know

Pairing: Lady Lesso x reader

Genre: angst to fluff

Words: 1100

Note: Another spring fic is here, I hope you enjoy this one. We have had a tough couple of weeks but I hope we can get back on track.

The air got fresher, early flowers started blooming and the days were sunnier and warmer. Everything around you implied the spring was here. Even the ever students got overly excited for the longer and warmer days, and nevers were willing to spend more time outside than absolutely necessary. It made teaching both of them the slightest bit more pleasant.

What didn’t make your classes easier however was the upcoming Spring ball. A tradition your school kept from before the merging, now both faculties equally accepted and invited. The buzz of your students chippering about the dress and shoes they’re going to wear and the date they’re going to invite was louder than the bees in the gardens.

You couldn’t blame them, you’d too get excited for the opportunity to dress up and dance. But your girlfriend wasn’t a big fan of such festivities, preferring the dark and coldness of her chambers and loneliness of her own company. You knew bothering her with it would not bring much more success, yet you were hopeful for her to change her mind about not going.

“Hey babe?” You question once you enter the office you so often shared.

“Yea?” Leonora reacts, not raising her head from the papers she’s currently grading.

“I know you said you aren’t really a ball type of person, but Dovey got the fancy chocolate fountain out…” You try to bribe her.

“I thought I already told you clear enough I’m not going.” She turns to you with a heavy sign, her arms folded over her chest and brows scrunched.

“Well… yes… but I thought you’d like to come with me…” You specify as if your presence should be her reward.

“I wouldn’t go with you even if you were the queen of Sheba.” She levels you annoyed.

“Oh… I’m sorry.” That stung a lot, pinching your heart in a twist. “I thought you would have done it for me.”

Lesso watched your hunched form leave her office, happy to finally have a bit of peace. Yet even after she did all her work, she couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. Did she not do enough for you? Why were you so needy all the time? It’s not her job to entertain you every hour of each day. If she doesn’t want to go to some stupid dance, she won’t go.

But the pointed look Dovey was giving her all throughout dinner seemed to say otherwise. You didn’t join them tonight, leaving many of the teachers wondering why the bubbly and talkative you didn’t show up. Even when she never wanted to admit it, it made her feel the slightest bit worse. Maybe she was really unnecessarily tough with you.

“Do you mind telling what your fuckin problem is?” Dovey cornered her right after dinner.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Lesso retorted, dissatisfied with her tone.

“Oh please! Every time something’s bothering Y/n, it’s got to do with you.” Clarissa accused her.

“Oh god, why is she so needy?! I just don’t want to go to your stupid dance. Can’t she grow up and let it go?” Leonora argued.

“When was the last time you took her to any dance?” Dovey opposed.

“I… what?” In the heat of the argument Lesso got derailed.

“Actually, when was the last time you took her anywhere?” Clarissa stands her ground, waiting patiently for her answer.

“I… I did… I mean, we went to that place… like a couple months ago..?” Leonora backs down, confused herself.

“Lesso, you need to stop expecting her to invest all into the relationship where you put in nothing. Would it hurt you to give her some of your time every now and then?” Dovey lectures her.

“But I… why does it have to be that stupid dance?! Can’t we just go catch some frogs or something?” Lesso objects.

“Do you think she likes hanging by the stinky pond? Or that she enjoys tormenting the evening fireflies?” Clarissa raises an eyebrow.

“Uh, yes?” Leonora states matter of factly. “Why else would she do it?”

“No, she doesn’t!” sometimes Dovey contemplated if your girlfriend even knew anything about you. “She does it because you like it. She does whatever you enjoy to spend time with you. I’d say it’s only polite to do the same for her.”

Giving Leonora enough to think about Dovey leaves her to her own thoughts. Maybe she really wasn’t good enough girlfriend, spending the time she had left with you after the work hours doing only what she wanted and never asking what you would enjoy. She despised school dances, hated all the balls and fancy parties, but maybe she could bite herself and go just for you.

During the next week you don’t bring the ball up again, and it seems you finally came to terms with the fact you’ll be attending alone. But your excited chatter is shorter and less happy than usually, you don’t mention all the preparations to anyone anymore and you spend most of your free time alone in your room. That’s why you’re so confused when at the afternoon of the ball, a flower corsage finds itself on your bed.

You didn’t know who sent it, the only person you’d accept one from was adamant about not going to the ball. But it somehow complemented all the colors of your flowery dress, so you decided to try it on, just to see how you’d look. Just as you’re about to take it off and leave, a knock is heard from your door, which confuses you even more. As you open it, you find your girlfriend in a fitting white suit with her hair pulled back.

„Wow, you look…“ You whisper in awe.

„Beautiful, I know. Can we go now?“ Lesso cuts you off in faked annoyance.

“But… I though you aren’t going..?” You question her confused.

“Well I changed my mind.” She almost bites but then continues much more nicely. “I realized you deserve to be taken out to where you want.”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to…” You didn’t want to pressure her into doing things she didn’t want to.

“No, I want to go! We weren’t doing much of that lately.” She admits offering you her arm.

You link your arms together passing to the ball room. Your arrival turns heads but neither of you really cares. As you’re beaming with a smile, she realizes she loves the neediness and wonderment you have for her. She wouldn’t want to live in a world where you didn’t need her.

[oliviablancmom]

"Pedriiii - Part III"

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x singlemom!OC

Themes: Fluff, Angst.

N/A: So, it's finally here!!! I'm sorry for the delay, but it was hard to write this chapter, either because I piled up my work, or because the characters took a while to talk to me, now they can't stay quiet. I know I said this would be the last chapter, but I can't do math, so this is probably the penultimate one and the next one will be the last (or not, idk). Anyway, enough talking because you guys waited a long time for this. Enjoy!!!!

Pedri was a patient person, his profession demanded it. During the 90 minutes or more that he touched the ball on the field and created plays in anticipation of goals, he knew he needed patience to reach the right moment to achieve his objective. He knew patience because of his injuries and the recovery time he had to deal with, as well as the hurtful comments that cast doubt on his talent, effort, and dedication. Patience sometimes eluded him during a game when a referee made a wrong call or overlooked something on the field. Patience sometimes eluded him when the boys teased him during training.

But lately patience eluded him when it came to her... Isabella Harver was driving him crazy, and that, at the moment, was beyond his clear attraction to the woman since the first time he saw her. It had more to do with the fact that she had been ignoring him since the last night they spent together, where everything ended chaotically, with no explanation from her. And that was bothering him, not the lack of explanation itself. Pedri could deduce how complicated the situation was from what he witnessed, but not knowing how Axel was, how they both were, hurt him more than he expected. Pedri wanted to understand what was happening, wanted to help in some way, and wanted to understand how someone could leave a child like Axel in that way. The player himself didn't understand his obsession with the incident; he didn't have the right to explanations. But something inside him tightened every time he remembered the child's anguished cry and Isa's frightened look.

"You know, if it were me receiving the news that I could play again, I'd be more excited than this," Gavi pointed at Pedri. "Is Isa still keeping you in the dark?" Pedri looked annoyed at Gavi. " What? You're pretty obvious about your feelings towards her. Your luck is that you don't run into her much around here," Gavi shrugged, and Pedri threw a towel at his face. "Your reaction just proves my point..."

"There's no feelings, it's just..." Pedri couldn't finish his sentence as he was interrupted by Gavi bursting into laughter, causing Pedri to roll his eyes.

"Dude, you've been drooling over her since the first time you saw her. I'm your best friend, you can admit it to me," Gavi said after calming down.

"It's complicated," Pedri says after a few seconds of silence.

"I think you guys are making it more complicated than it is," Gavi concluded patting Pedri's shoulder and letting him alone with his thoughts. Pedri thought Gavi was right, but he also had a point. It was true, that the woman had a strange magnetism that attracted him, but there was everything else that made their relationship complicated that he couldn't simply ignore.

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

Isa was sitting at her father's kitchen table, watching Axel bake a cake with Gianna, or rather, his "Gigi" as the little boy called the older woman, his grandfather's girlfriend, who despite loving the child, joked that she was too young to be called a grandmother, yet. Isa loved the affection she had for Axel, and was grateful for her presence in her father's life, and theirs too, after all, who else would teach Axel to cook considering Isa was a disaster in the kitchen?

"Can we add M&Ms? My friend Pedri loves them, so I can bring him some cake tomorrow," Axel suggested eagerly.

"Of course we can, it's your cake," the older woman said, kissing the child's head as he celebrated excitedly.

He didn't even seem like the scared child from two nights ago when she picked him up from his paternal grandparents' house. Just remembering the state he was in made Isa feel sick to her stomach. The situation had gone too far, and she wouldn't allow it to happen again.

"Axel talks a lot about Pedri," Isa looked at her father, who had approached quietly, and as she faced him, she just knew he wanted to ask something, but he would never do it directly.

"He befriended with some players." She shrugged backing her attention to her son.

"He also told me he was the one who brought you guys home that night," the man continued in his not-so-subtle attempt to extract something from his daughter.

"Yes, we were at a barça event, and I needed a ride, and he was the only sober one..." The man smiled gently at his daughter; he knew her better than anyone and knew her ways of avoiding a subject.

"When are you and Axel going back to your house?" He asked.

"Are you kicking us out? Don't you love us anymore?" Isa pouted dramatically, earning an eye roll from the older man.

"I adore having you around... Especially when it's by choice and not because you're running away from someone, even though, I don't know from who you are hiding," Isa turned to the man, confused.

"You can't let that man and his family continue to torment you and Axel, Isabella. You shouldn't even be trying to get close to those people."

"Those people, are Axel's family too."

"They don't care about him, and you know it. They only care about making your life a hell"

Isa didn't answer, not knowing exactly how she should respond even though she knew her father was right, she tried to have a good relationship with them because of Axel, but since that night some days ago, she was willing to give up on that, her child didn't deserve all that stress.

"He's going to invite him to his birthday," Isa looked confused at her father. "Pedri!" He exclaims. "I'm just informing you that I won't tolerate any trouble in my house, if this is going to cause trouble, it's better to tell Henry and his family not to come." Isa looked surprised at the man, as if she had been caught doing something, the older man's eyes indicated that he knew something, and that made the woman feel a strange feeling.

"There won't be an trouble, why would be?" She asked nervously as she got up.

"My beloved and favorite daughter..." The ironic smile on her father's face made Isa roll her eyes.

"It would be strange if I weren't, been your only one" she responded mimicking his tone.

"I know you think you're subtle, but you have the most emotive and transparent eyes there are," he said, kissing Isa's head, who didn't respond.

Her father's remark left a bitter taste and a strange sensation in her core. Isa was aware of her not-so-small attraction to the player, but it was just that, attraction. She couldn't develop feelings, let alone be expressive about them. She sighed in frustration as she drove to the training center, just hoping not to encounter the player.

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

"Hey, guys," Ferran says as he enters the physiotherapy room. "Look, Pedri. Who I bumped into on my way here," Pedri lifted his eyes from his phone towards his friend. "Mini you."

"Pedriiii" Axel said, running into the physiotherapy room, but stopped and walked slowly to the bed where Pedri was lying.

"Hey buddy, I didn't see you these days," Pedri said to the little boy, who leaned against the bed, resting his head and attentively watching every move of the physiotherapist. "Are you okay?"

"Mom is looking for schools for me," he said rolling his little eyes, eliciting laughter from the players.

"I feel you, buddy," Ferran said, running his hand through Axel's hair. "Can I do it too?" Axel asked after a few minutes of silence while watching the physiotherapist tape the small electrical wrist electrodes onto Pedri's leg to start the treatment. The physiotherapist looked at Pedri as if asking for permission, and the player felt his chest warm at the thought of being responsible for the little boy.

"Won't it be too strong for him?" Pedri asked, concerned. The man smiled at him, shaking his head.

"I'll set it to a low frequency. It'll feel like tickles." Pedri then looked at Axel, who was looking at him expectantly, waiting for the player's response.

"Alright, let's do it, buddy," Pedri laughed as the little boy jumped excitedly. The doctor picked him up and placed him on the bed next to Pedri.

"If only all my players were this excited about physiotherapy sessions," the older man said with a sigh, making Pedri laugh.

"I'm quite cooperative."

"I won't comment, so as not to embarrass you in front of the child."

"I'm not worse than Gavi," Pedri said offended.

"You're impatient, and Gavi is... Well, Gavi," Pedri chuckled. "Come on, little buddy, I'm going to turn it on, let me know if it hurts."

Axel nodded, reaching out his hand for Pedri to hold, and the player promptly held. Axel closed one of his eyes in expectation, but as soon as it started he let out a laugh.

"Aw, it tickles," Axel laughed with wide eyes looking at the player.

"Oh, I wish mine was just a tickle..." Ferran sighed as he lay down on the examination table. Pedri nodded in agreement and then turned his attention to Axel, who seemed frustrated.

"Is everything okay, buddy?" The little boy looked at Pedri and made a face.

"This is boring, can I take it off?" Pedri chuckled at the child's impatience. In the short time he had known Axel, he knew Axel was too energetic and talkative for a physiotherapy session.

"Of course, let me help you." Pedri leaned over to remove the equipment from Axel's leg. Once he finished, the little boy jumped off the table excitedly and began walking around the room, examining every detail.

Pedri and Ferran laughed as they watched him carefully follow the physiotherapist, curious about the man's work. Then Axel grabbed a band and went over to Pedri, mimicking the therapist's movements.

"You've lost your job, Mattia," the older man chuckled as he watched the scene unfold.

After exploring everything in the room and asking about each piece of equipment, Axel grew tired and went to sit on the same examination table as Pedri, his little legs on the player's lap. He casually recounted to Pedri about the schools he had visited with his mother. The little boy didn't seem as scared as when Isa had found him that night, but he also wasn't the same boy the player had gotten used to, which intrigued and worried Pedri.

Before he could continue the conversation with the boy, the scent of the perfume that had been etched in his mind hit him, and immediately his eyes darted to the door. And there she was, three days since he last saw the woman, and she looked even more beautiful. Realizing where his thoughts were, he shook his head. He was angry at her; she had put him in various kinds of situations and simply disappeared, leaving him in the dark, confused, and distressed with a whirlwind of emotions.

"Axel... What did I say about you wandering around?" Axel jumped in surprise at the woman's voice. The reaction made Pedri laugh.

"Hi, Mommy... But it was just a little bit, just to get here, then I sat down, right Pedri?" Axel said in a sweet voice, clearly attempting to deceive his mother, and Pedri had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the boy's excuse. "Right, Pedri?" He repeated, poking Pedri.

"Oh sure, he sat the whole time," Pedri said, looking at Isa, and noticed she was also holding back laughter.

"Oh, great. You found someone else to cover for you besides your grandpa. You can't be friends if you're going to be against me," she said, crossing her arms. Axel shrugged with a mischievous smile. "We need to go home, baby," she said, and Axel's smile faded. He stood up and moved behind the player, hugging his neck.

"No, I want to stay here," he said in a whiny voice. Pedri looked at Isa as if seeking answers. The woman sighed and sat on the examination table next to the player, her mere proximity already causing sensations in Pedri.

"Axel, sweetheart. You need to let Pedri get back to his physiotherapy; you don't want him to get back to playing?" She said softly.

"He can stay, I don't mind," Pedri said quietly to the woman, who simply nodded and leaned against the wall. Pedri and Isa's gazes didn't waver, both maintaining eye contact as if engaged in a silent conversation, seeking answers.

Isa looked away when the physiotherapist returned to the room, giving a brief smile to the woman.

"Five more minutes, and I'll let them go," he said to Isa, who just nodded, confused. "Your boys were very cooperative, one doing the exercises correctly, and the other helping me treat the other players." Upon hearing this, Pedri saw the woman's face turn red, her eyes widened, and then she began to cough. "Oh, dear. Are you alright? Would you like some water?" Mattia asked, approaching and patting the woman's back.

"It's the excitement of seeing her two boys," Ferran's voice, which Pedri thought had been sleeping until now, startled him, and the woman's coughing increased as she looked at him with a deadly glare.

"I'll wait outside," she said, leaving the room. Pedri looked at Ferran, who had a mocking smile on his face, and grabbed a bottle and threw it at him.

"What, I'm lightening the mood; the tension between you two is palpable. I was sleeping and could still feel it." Pedri decided to ignore his friend since Axel was looking at both with curiosity.

"Hey buddy, why don't you go see your mom? I'll be there in a bit." The little boy nodded and hopped off the examination table, running out of the room just as Mattia returned to release Pedri. The player then left the room, a bit apprehensive that they might have already left, but to his surprise, both were waiting in the hallway. Isa was crouched down at Axel's height, helping him search for something in his backpack.

"You can give him his later or ask Pedri to give it to him," Pedri heard Isa say to the boy.

"Hey," Pedri said, stopping beside them. "Is everything okay?" Isa just nodded.

"Here, is an invitation to my birthday party. You're coming, right?" Axel said, handing the envelope to Pedri, eagerly awaiting his response.

"Of course, buddy," Pedri said, tousling Axel's hair, who smiled excitedly and hugged Pedri's leg.

"I'll go deliver Ferran's," the boy said, turning to his mother, waiting for her approval, and as soon as she agreed, he ran back to the physiotherapy room. Pedri turned his attention to the woman who was staring intensely at him, feeling his heart race at the intensity of her gaze.

"Do you want to come with us to have some birthday cake?" She said, breaking the silence between them, and God, the softness of her voice... If she used that tone to ask the player anything, he would gladly accept.

"Is his birthday today?" Pedri asked, concerned. The boy had mentioned his birthday, but hadn't mentioned dates.

"Tomorrow. The party will be next week because of the game this weekend, but he has a cake to sing 'Happy Birthday' at midnight, it's tradition. He'll be happy if you're there;" she said, leaning against the wall. Pedri took a step towards her, coming face to face with the woman, their faces just inches apart, and he could feel her heavy breath.

"Just him?" Pedri asked, and he saw the woman furrow her eyebrows in confusion. "Will only he like it if I'm there?" he asked eagerly, Isa swallowed, her eyes scanning the player's face. "Oh... You're so beautiful" Pedri says taking a good look at her face, he lowers his face towards hers his lips brushing against hers. Pedri thought his attraction to the woman was just a result of a night out at a club. Even though he hadn't had a single drop of alcohol in his body, the atmosphere of such places always had something extra. But whether it was now, or when he caught a brief glimpse of Isa as he saw her through the training center, he knew it was something more.

"Mom, we'll need an invitation for Mattia too..." Axel's voice emerging again in the hallway causes Pedro and Isa to abruptly pull away, and Pedro is thankful because he is inches away from forgetting where they were and doing something with the woman right there.

"We'll bring it tomorrow," Isa says, her breath heavy. "Shall we go home now? We still need to stop by Pops to get your cake."

"YESSS," Axel says excitedly, then turns his attention back to Pedro. "Do you want to come to eat my cake?" Pedri smiles at the question, not at the question itself, but at the way he asked it, with the same intonation that his mother had used earlier. Isa smiled proudly at Pedri as if she understood what he was thinking.

"Of course, buddy. I'd love to."

"YAY," Axel exclaimed excitedly, jumping onto the player so that he could lift him. Pedri smiled at the little boy, planting a kiss on the top of his head, and as he walked down the hallway, with Axel in his arms and Isa by his side, his only thought was that he could and wanted to get used to this... definitively.

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

The way to her father's house, it was silent, well, at least on Isa's part, considering that Axel and Pedri were engaged in an intense conversation about Axel starting at Barça's football school. Isa had even tried to join the conversation but soon stopped trying, feeling like she was intruding on something of theirs. And if she didn't know how much her son loved her, she would start feeling jealous of what he had with the player. Speaking of him, Isa was feeling nervous about his presence, and she began to wonder where her head was when she invited him to eat Axel's birthday cake, but before she knew it, the words were already coming out of her mouth, so now she has to deal with his presence, and that makes her nervous.

When she stopped in front of her father's house, she was immensely grateful that his reaction was just that of a Barcelona fan, not that of a curious father, or it would add even more to her nervousness.

The player and her father spent about 10 minutes talking about soccer, Pedri's injury, and his return to the field. Of course, the conversation between the two eventually led to Axel casually asking his grandfather, "But pops, I thought Gavi was your favorite." The question made the man choke in embarrassment, and Pedri laughed at the situation. But Isa knew her son, and for him to be "against" his grandfather, considering how close they were, the only reason was that her child was jealous of the player.

As soon as they arrived at the apartment, Axel insisted on showing the player his room, who wasn't at all surprised to see that it was all decorated in Barcelona colors. Isa listened to their interaction from the kitchen until the player's surprised tone caught her attention, and she sneakily walked to the boy's room.

"Axel, what's this?" Pedri was facing the wall, looking at Axel's photo mural, and Isa knew exactly what had caught his attention. "Is Gavi your favorite too?" he asked indignantly.

"Nooo," the boy said laughing, and Pedri turned to him with narrowed eyes.

"You're not being convincing laughing like that," the player concluded, taking a photo with his phone, probably to send to his friend.

"Show him your shirts, honey," Isa said, appearing in the doorway, catching the attention of both. Axel ran to the closet, pulling the player with him, and Isa saw the player's surprised face; Axel had several Barcelona shirts, all with the number 8 and the player's name.

"Okay, I can forgive you now, buddy," Pedri laughs, tousling Axel's hair, as he bends down to pick something from the drawer. "Of course, there's one to ruin the fun." He shows Isa the shirt with Gavi's number, making her burst into laughter.

"It's a gift from pops, I told you Gavi is his favorite," Axel says, finding the situation amusing as well.

"Axel, sweetheart, go take a shower so we can cut your cake," Isa says to her son, who eagerly runs to the bathroom. Isa was thankful every day that he hadn't yet reached the phase where children dislike bathing.

Her attention returned to the player, who was looking at her expectantly once again. Isa wasn't sure what to do; she had never brought anyone to her apartment before, and the player made her nervous.

"Let's go to the kitchen," she said in a lower tone, and Pedri nodded, following her out of the room. Along the way, he examined the various photos scattered around the place, stopping in front of another photo wall in the living room, and analyzing each one.

And Isa took the opportunity to observe him. God, he was so handsome, she thought. Everything about him, the hair, the beard. Isa had seen many comments from the player's fans asking him to get rid of the beard, but she would protest against that.

"Earth to Isabella," Isa snapped out of her thoughts when she saw the player standing right in front of her. "What were you thinking that made you blush like that?" Pedri had a playful grin on his face, that made Isa distance herself abruptly from him.

"What were you talking about?" She asked breathlessly.

"You have a photo with Gavi too," he showed the Polaroid to Isa. "Does he spend a lot of time with you guys? I'm starting to think your whole family has a not-so-subtle crush on Gavira," Pedri tried to say nonchalantly, but his clenched jaw gave away a flash of jealousy, making Isa laugh, and then she approached the player.

"Are you jealous of Gavi?" Isa felt the player's hand on her waist pulling her closer, once again her face just inches away from his, Isa could feel her heart beating so fast she was sure the player could hear it, and that was very new for her. "I took the photo to make my dad jealous. Axel and I don't joke when we say he's his favorite. Also, he spends a few days in the office after his physiotherapy and recovery sessions. He's too impatient to just watch you guys training," Isa also suspected that this wasn't the only reason he visited her in the administrative part of the training center, but she wouldn't talk about it now.

Pedri nodded and leaned in towards the woman, Isa held her breath, and before she could feel the player's lips, her phone rang. She stepped back, and Pedri muttered a curse word. As soon as she saw who it was, all the ecstasy and calmness of the moment vanished. She hung up the call, and it didn't take long for the device to beep, indicating the arrival of messages.

"Answer the damn phone!!!"

"What are you thinking!!!! Are you out of your mind? First, you invade my parents' house and take my son, and now you're hanging out with teenagers?"

Isa felt her body go cold when Henry sent numerous photos taken by fans showing her leaving the training center with Pedri and Axel in the player's arms.

"I'm coming right now, that damn player better not be with you, or I'll do something stupid. We're still married, and the judge will know that"

Isa felt her whole life being sucked out of her; she knew Henry didn't care about Axel, it wasn't about him but about her, and the mere possibility of her being with someone else.

"Pedri, you better go," Isa said, turning to the player who was looking at her attentively.

"What happened?" He asked, concerned. He tried to approach, but Isa stepped back, feeling tears rolling down her face.

"Isa... You're just like that night, you need to tell me what's going on." He tried to get closer again, and once again Isa backed away, she saw the hurt expression on the player's face, and it hurt her own heart a little.

"This can't keep happening, you leaving me in the dark like this... Seeing you like this, seeing how Axel was that night, it's tormenting me," Pedri said impatiently.

"This is none of your business," Isa said firmly, wiping the tears from her face. Pedri opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, he ran his hand through his beard in an irritated gesture. Isa saw her phone vibrating again, and another message from Henry appeared

"Is this why you're asking for a divorce? Oh baby, if you think I'm going to let that boy near you..."

"Go away, Pedri," Isa repeated. Pedri didn't respond, he just turned and left the apartment.

"Pedriiii" Axel's voice calling the player from the room was all it took for Isa to collapse into uncontrollable tears.

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

Pedri was relieved to be back on the team's list for a match after his injury recovery time. The medical department was still cautious about clearing him, and with the Champions League quarterfinal games coming up, he would have to endure one more match before being on the field. But just being able to be on the bench with his teammates already felt like a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. However, he couldn't ignore a certain heaviness weighing on his chest, and it was ruining his mood, with the person responsible just a few meters away from him in the tunnel leading to the field, too focused on her phone to notice anything around her.

"Dude, she's gonna melt if you keep staring at her like that," Ferran said, approaching his friend. "I thought HR was clear with you guys, and you're not being subtle at all."

Pedri rolled his eyes at the memory of what happened. After leaving the woman's apartment, his phone received a flood of notifications with tags on his photo with Isa and Axel, leading them both to explain to HR. Well, Isabella explained, claiming they were just colleagues, and that her son was a big fan and happened to run into the player in the parking lot, and that was their only interaction. Pedri was shocked at how easily the woman lied, or rather, omitted information, as she left out that a large part of their interaction occurred when they both were naked.

Pedri could feel the same irritation he felt on the day of the meeting returning at that moment, especially when he saw a man in Atlético's coaching staff approaching the woman. Pedri saw the woman's entire body language change suddenly, assuming a more defensive posture, and this intrigued him.

Pedri could hear Ferran talking beside him, but he wasn't paying attention to what he was saying exactly, his focus completely on the woman. And when the man grabbed Isa's arm forcefully, pulling her towards him with his finger in her face, Pedri saw red, his legs moving before he could think to do so. He heard Ferran calling him, but his voice was already distant, Pedri pushed the man hard, getting him off Isa.

"Look, one of your kids is here," the man said in an ironic tone, and that was enough for Pedri to punch him in the face, and soon they were grappling with each other. And that was enough for a general commotion to start in the tunnel, players pushing players, coaching staff from both teams trying to break up the fight. Pedri felt a hand on his arm, squeezing it tightly, pulling him away from the crowd.

"You can't do this!" The woman's voice brought him back from his trance suddenly, he was alert to everything around him again, notice that he was in another room, he looked at Isa, who had a furious look on her face.

"Are you okay?" Pedri asked, approaching the woman, holding her face between his hands, Isa looked at him confused.

"If I'm okay?" She asked incredulously, Pedri lowered his eyes to the woman's arm, which bore the marks of the man's grip, and again he felt anger consuming him. "Do you have any idea what you've done? The trouble you've caused me, that you've caused both of us?" She asked, getting agitated.

"I was defending you!" Pedri shouted back.

"I didn't ask for that, I didn't ask for your help!" Pedri raised his arms mockingly.

"Can you stop with this nonsense? You can't sleep with me, tell me 'it's not like that,' use your sweet tone of voice with me, claim my skin and thoughts, and then say it's none of my business." Isa opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, the door swung open abruptly, instinctively Pedri pulled Isa behind him.

"What the hell was that? Have you gone crazy?" Pedri relaxed when he saw it was just Xavi, a very angry Xavi, and he knew he had messed up. The coach looked at Pedri's hand holding Isa's wrist. "Don't tell me you got into a fight over a woman, Pedri. Over a woman you and her swore was nothing when HR asked." He said in a calmer tone of voice.

"I was just defending min..."

"I told you not to tell me!" Xavi exclaimed annoyed. "Do you know the mess you've caused? This could cost us a lot. You're not gonna be on the bench, you're suspended, go home, Pedri." Pedri tried to say something but was soon stopped by Xavi, who was furious again. The door swung open again, and a member of the communication team entered the room.

"Isabella, we need you here, the match referee wants explanations, but the Atlético communication team wants to talk to you first," the girl called for Isa, who untangled herself from Pedri, before leaving the room she gave one last look at the player, and then left for good. Pedri turned around angrily, kicking the chair that was there.

"I guess your brother won't be able to deny this rumor on social media, right?" Xavi said breaking the silence, Pedri looked up to see his coach and could tell the older man had a slight smirk on his face. "Did you at least hit him properly?" Pedri just nodded, and Xavi gave a proud smile, patting the player's shoulder. "Go home, kid," said the older man leaving the room.

Pedro was soon escorted out of the stadium by a member of the coaching staff. Pedri didn't see Isa anymore, and that annoyed him, his phone soon beeped indicating a message from HR, for a new meeting, he rolled his eyes and before he could block the phone, a message from an unknown number arrived.

"I appreciate what you did, but this can't happen, things like this can ruin my, and especially your career. This was a mistake from the beginning, and whatever is happening or has happened between you and me, it's over here. Everything between us will be strictly professional. Please respect my decision, and I hope this doesn't ruin your friendship with Axel!!"

Pedri felt his heart tighten, and his breath caught in his throat, he always reassured his friends and himself, that everything between him and the woman was just a physical attraction, but at that moment, with that message, he was sure there was something more, and as much as she denied it, Pedri knew there was something more from her side too, but if she wanted to run away from it, and wanted everything to be professional, then, so be it.

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

N/A: Again, I apologize for the delay. I hope you liked it. I've revised this chapter many times, BUT as I promised to post it today, something must have slipped, I promise to review it during the week. Thank you for all the comments, likes, reblogs, and asks, I LOVE seeing your reaction and opinion, it warms my heart!!

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Choose (Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter)

Description: Hannibal and Y/N fight over Will

Warnings: Handjob, Oral sex

Word count: 1,730k

There was something about the crazy guy that visioned how people got killed that had them going. He wasn’t a normal regular guy who pulled them in. He hadn’t a clue of what he was doing but it was driving them crazy. Hannibal and Y/N. They weren’t together but wanted the same guy. They tried not to make it obvious at first but stopped caring after a while when they realized that the other one wanted him too. It was like a competition. And everyone but Will watched as the two competed for his attention. Will was the only one that didn’t know Y/N and Hannibal were into him. He was so oblivious. He thought the two hated each other for some different reason. But they both wanted him for different reasons. 

Hannibal wanted Will because they had a connection like no other. Hannibal felt drawn to him and thought they were meant to be. He knew Will was just as fucked up as him. Though he wasn’t sure at first what he saw Will as. He just knew it was more than a friend. They shared something so deep that nobody would understand. 

Y/N wanted Will because she found him sexy and submissive. Though she truly had no idea what Will was like in the bedroom. She felt like they have known each other their entire lives. They lived next door to each other and always talked. He was the first man that didn’t act creepy or weird towards her that was attractive. 

Jack saw through the two and got annoyed pretty fast. It was affecting the workplace. Alana thought it was funny and she had her bets on you getting Will. Deep down inside she wanted Hannibal and all together she felt like you were better for Will. There were bets going around on who Will would choose if he wasn’t oblivious. Jack just wanted it to stop. He didn’t care who Will would end up choosing. 

It was another day another dead person was found and the crew was examining the scene. Will told them how they got killed by the detail. Most would find it strange but Y/N loved it. She felt like Will was a superhero with mind powers. “You’re so smart Will.” She flirted with him. “Oh please he’s a genius.” Hannibal corrected her. She glared at him and he smirked as Will didn’t know what to say except “Thanks guys.” Jack rolled his eyes. It took everything in him not to yell out what was going on here. Will walked away leaving the three. “Oh Will you’re so smart.” Hannibal mocked her. “Instead of agreeing with me you had to disagree and say he’s a genius? Next time Han just drop to your knees.” She says. “Will is going to be mine.” She says and he lets out a laugh. “He can’t be when he’s already mine.” Hannibal bites back. “Enough you two!” Jack exclaims. The two look at him, completely forgetting he was there. “You guys need to talk to the man instead of fighting over him. It’s weird.” Hannibal hums and looks over at Y/N. “Tonight we host a dinner and invite Will and then we will see who he belongs to.” Hannibal says. Y/N looks at the man and gives him a smirk. “You’re on Hanni. May the best win.” They walk away from the scene and Jack looks back at them “He’s not an object you guys.” He yells to them. 

Y/N was in a nice red dress that was all the way down to the floor. Her hair was in a bun (if your hair isn't look enough for a bun then nevermind that) and her makeup was a nude look. She looked exquisite. She knocked on Hannibal’s door and he opened and looked at her. He couldn’t help but think she was beautiful. “You look good Y/N.” He complimented her. She smiles at him and nods. “Not so bad yourself Hanni.” But in reality he looked hot. He always dressed up fancy but tonight they were really trying so he looked superior. She enters his house and looks around. “Nice place.” “Thanks I have a room already waiting for Will when he chooses me.” She rolls her eyes at his comment. He takes her to the kitchen where he was cooking dinner. “So do you know how to cook?” He asked her. “Yes I do.” She says. “Good so you can help me then.” They cooked with no words exchanged other than asking what else to cook. Not even smart comments were made.

It would be 2 hours before everything was ready and Will knocked on the door. “I’ll get that.” She said and walked to the door. She opened it and saw the love of her life. He smiled and told her she looked beautiful. She thanked him and let him in. Will was very surprised to see Hannibal and Y/N cooking together. Hannibal never invited her over before. He was confused but happy that they weren’t arguing. 

Hannibal sat in his normal seat while Will and Y/N sat across from each other. Will loved how they both looked. He was feeling undressed. “What’s the occasion?” He asked them. They looked at each other. “Tonight will be a very special night.” Hannibal says. “One of us will be happy and the other sad.” Y/N finishes. Will looked confused. “Okay? Why would you guys be sad?” He asked. “She will be sad.” Hannibal says. Her eyes glared at the man and she scoffed. “Yeah right. You’ll be the one crying over your fancy food.” She bites back. Will looked at them both as they argued. “Sure darling keep telling yourself that. You and I both know that it’s me he’ll choose.” Hannibal says with a smile. Wait what? Will was so lost. “Who will choose one of you?” He asked. Y/N sets down her wine and smirks. “You, my dear, will choose one of us.” His jaw drops and he looks at Hannibal who was already looking at him. “Wait, you guys want me to choose between you two?” He asked. Hannibal nodded. “Yes you must.” “In what way?” “Romantic.” Y/N says.

Will couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Both of them wanted him. It dawned on him that all the arguing and hatred they had towards each other was because of him. “I uh I don’t know what to say.” He was red in the face. Hannibal cleared his throat. “Very well then. I guess we will have to convince you.” He stands up and walks over to Will. He pulls Will’s chair back and drops to his knees. “I will suck you off and then she will and whoever makes you cum better will be the one you choose.” Will looked over at Y/N who nodded in agreement. “Sounds good to me.” Hannibal looked down at his pants. “Well look, he's already hard. I guess he agrees.” Will gulped as Hannibal unzipped his pants. He pulled them down along with his boxers and his beautiful dick sprung up. Y/N looked under the table and gasped at the pretty sight. Hannibal took him into his hand and started slowly jerking him off. Will’s breathing changed as he held back a moan. He watches as Hannibal’s big hand jerked him. It felt so good. He threw his head back and let out a moan. “There he is.” Hannibal says.

Y/N was getting wet at the sight. Will looked lost in pleasure as Hannibal sped up his hand. “Please.” Will whimpered out. “Please what my dear.” Will’s hips thrusted up into Hannibal’s hand. His hands gripping the chair for dear life. “I’m gonna cum fuck.” He moaned out and Hannibal sped up his movements letting the man cum hard all over his hand. Y/N watched as Will’s cum went all over Hannibal’s hand. She almost moaned at the sight. He took his hand off his dick and brought it to his mouth. Will watched him as he licked all of the cum off his hand. “You taste better than any dinner I've ever had.” Hannibal tells him. Y/N got up and walked around the table to them. “That was hot.” She said. Hannibal got up and moved so she could take his place. Y/N wasn’t going to use her hand. She was going to use her mouth. Will was already hard again and she smirked. “Wow you’re so big Will. I can’t wait til you’re down my throat.” She says seductively and winks at the man.

She takes his dick and runs her thumb over the tip making him curse. As she makes eye contact with him she takes him in her mouth. Her warm and wet mouth felt amazing. His eyes rolled back as she took him to the back of her mouth. She watched him as she started bobbing her head. Hannibal watched intensely as the girl deepthroated Will. Her mouth doing wonders on him as he made every noise he could. She hummed around him, sending vibrations through his body. He whimpered her name and started moving his hips fucking her throat. She knew she wouldn’t be able to talk the next day but it would be worth it once he was hers. His mouth opened and he let out loud moans as she felt him twitch. His breathing picked up and he couldn’t form a sentence to tell her that he was close but she knew. She sped up her movements until he came hard down her throat. His moan was so loud that it could be heard in any room in the large mansion. She swallowed every last drop and pulled away.

She licked her lips and smirked. “Hanni was right. You do taste better than any meal.” Will was gasping for air trying to calm himself. Y/N stood up and looked at Hannibal. She felt like she won. But Hannibal had an ego so of course he didn’t think that. “Holy fuck. You guys are wow.” Will said finally breathing normally. “So who do you choose?” Hannibal asked. “Guys I’ve dreamed of this moment.” Will tells them. They look at each other. “And who do you choose in these dreams?” Y/N asked. Will smiles at them. “I don’t.” They look at him confused. “I don’t because I won’t choose between you two. I want you both.”