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kitscutie · 5 months

Note

omg if you’re still wanting requests for coryo, maybe sm like he’s mentoring reader instead of lucy gray (she is safe and sound in 12 dw!) and they get reunited after r wins the games? maybe by some kind of fluke? i’ll leave it up to you bc i love everything you write babes <3

money, power, glory (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none!

summary: coriolanus snow is your mentor, unlike the others he has a drive for your survival - it quickly becomes clear your bond goes above mentor and tribute.

a/n: this is not part of the snow and roses series but part two is coming very soon -hope you enjoy! also thank you so much to this anon - you're a cutie!

word count: 3.6k

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The train ride to the Capitol was dark and lonely. It felt as though everybody had already found friends or were close to their fellow District tribute, yours wanted nothing to do with you.

Seeing as you were from twelve you were thin and weak, you knew that, you could feel it in the way your stomach rumbled on a loop every day or the way your head spun when you stood up but you never thought one of your own would turn their back on you.

You didn't think you stood a chance, simply another pawn in the Capitols game but still you had hope.

When the train stopped it jolted, tipping you over had you been stood up like Thornton your fellow Twelve tribute. He wasn't muscly but more so burly, it was clear his family was among the wealthier back home but compared to the Capitol it was nothing.

You stood up from your small corner, cowering away from the sunlight which blinded you upon the doors opening. You heard yells, presumably from your fellow tributes or even the 'peace keepers' as they tried to calm the crowds.

Below you, you saw a flash of red which stood out from the white uniforms and wall to floor grey cement.

Upon closer inspection snow white hair lay atop his head, prominent and proud.

Thornton jumped out of the box on his own accord, not prompted by the guards, nor the boy below you, simply motivated to get into the Hunger Games.

Your head slowly peered out from the box and that's when his eyes met yours, strikingly blue they seemed out of place in such a colourless setting.

"Welcome to the Capitol." He stuttered out, holding a rose which matched his hair out to you, it was beautiful, nothing you had ever seen back home.

"Thank you. Could you-." You began to ask for his help out of the train which staggered above the ground just below half of your height, though he realised quickly, holding your waist as he gently placed you on the ground in front of him.

Finally out of your cage you took the rose from his calloused fingers, admiring it in all it's beauty. It reminded you of him, soft and subtle yet powerful as it stood tall on it's stalk.

"This is beautiful." You said, it came out in something similar to a whisper, your body still adjusting to the new setting. "You look different," You said as you glanced around at the tributes in dirty hand me downs and the guards in plaster white uniforms. "Who are you?" You asked.

"I'm your mentor." He smiled charmingly, it seemed second nature to him.

"Where are the other mentors?" You once again asked, unsure if this was new or simply something you had missed as you sat watching the games between your fingers.

"Well, I'm not supposed to be here but, I'm sure greeting you falls in my line of duty." He said. "Taking care of you." He added which sent butterflies wild in your stomach. He was doing his job you reminded yourself but nobody back home was quite this attractive nor this attentive. You had never been taken care of. Always independent to survive.

You said nothing more, taking in all of his glorious features until a peacekeeper grabbed you arm, taking you with the rest of the tributes into an armoured van. You were once again alone.

You watched in surprise as just moments later your mentor jumped in behind you, standing against the back wall as if to not be seen in a packed and confined space.

"Hi." He said, realising he stood out like a sore thumb. It almost made you chuckle - his blatant fear but then you realised you should be much more scared.

"What's the matter pretty boy, you in the wrong cage?" Said Reaper. He was a tribute you admired, he was brave and strong and seemingly had a deep care for his friend Dill.

"No. This cage is delightful." He smiled. You were impressed by his natural appeal, well to you at least. Every word which came out of his pale lips had you hanging on by a thread.

With that Reaper had had enough, slamming him against the wall with power. "I'll kill you." He said convincingly.

"He'll do it too. He killed a Peacekeeper back in Eleven." Dill spoke as she stared into nothingness.

"I say we all kill him." Added Bobbin as he now stood up too, the other Tributes speaking out in agreement. You began to panic, he was your only source of companionship, of opportunity to leave the Capitol in one piece and here he was about to be ripped to shreds before the Games even begun.

"He's my mentor, could you please not kill him?" You asked pathetically as you attempted to stand between him and Reaper. A feeble attempt though an attempt none the less.

"How come you get a mender?" Said Coral, dirty gaze set now upon you.

"Mentor." He corrected her. "You each get one." He finished, hoping this would calm them in their attempt to kill him.

"And we'll all just believe you, huh? Why does Twelve here get special treatment." Coral replied, now out of her seat and very much in your face as she squished your cheeks between her grimy fingers.

"I'm not special, just lucky I suppose." You shrugged feeling heavily intimidated and under scrutiny by all of their hungry gazes. Eager to pull blood from you in this very moment.

The room went silent and at first you didn't realise why, until you felt your cage begin to shake, slowly tilting towards the ground. Your mentor's hands once again wrapped around your waist though this time from behind you and your own reached down to hold onto his wrists, having no stability.

You all screamed as you fell down onto hard wood chips and damp mud. Eyes were once again blinded by the harsh sunlight as you adjusted to wherever you now were.

A mans voice echoed around your new cage - how kind of them to give you multiple in such little time - seemingly introducing himself to the crowd around you before he spotted the red uniform.

"Excuse me, yes you sir, in the red! Who are you and why are you in there with them, we are live!" He asked, hair gelled to perfection to one side.

You grabbed your mentors hand as he stood frozen in his spot clearly unsure what to do, you however saw an opportunity, an opportunity to stand out.

"May I introduce you to my neighbours?" He asked sarcastically as though he really hated the people filming you like you wanted to be here.

With that the pair of you walked over, but not before he took the rose from your free hand and tucked it behind your ear. It burned under the warmth of his skin, not having had any form of physical touch for as long as you can remember.

"Hi. How do you do, my name is Coriolanus Snow, and this here is my tribute Y/N L/N from District Twelve." He said partly for the cameras partly introducing himself to you and you to him. He already knew your name. He had watched the reaping's, seen you cry in weakness.

"Hello." You mumbled partly shuffling to hide behind his body. Not used to such attention.

He focused his attention on you, firing questions at you over and over again until you had had enough. "More on my mentor, seemed he's the only one who bothered to show up." You said and the boy that you now knew to be Coriolanus rubbed his thumb back and forth over your hand as he sensed your discomfort being Infront of so many prying eyes.

"Well I would love to ask him some questions but it seems as though he's about to be whisked away." Lucky said and as soon as the words came out Peacekeepers appeared behind the pair of you grabbing him by the biceps and beginning to drag him away.

"Hey." You held onto him for one second longer. "Thank you for everything Coriolanus Snow. But uh, could you please bring me some food? I can feel my bones turning into dust as we speak." You said. He slightly chuckled at this but no less nodded.

With that, you were once again alone.

"Y/N!" You heard your name from behind the rock you sat against, instantly recognizing the voice to be Coriolanus Snow.

"That for me?" You asked as he pulled out a few pieces of food wrapped in tissue in front of you. He handed it to you through gaps in the fence, wordlessly answering your question. "Thank you." You said as you eagerly stuffed your face, this being the first meal you had eaten in days, no weeks.

"They not feed you back in Twelve?" He asked, concerned.

"No. We don't exactly get that luxury." His question surprised you, you assumed it was common knowledge that food was few and far between in the outer Districts yet here he was, surprised. "Seems your friend already knows that." You added as you watched a girl in a matching uniform to his teasing Brandy.

"She is not my friend she is poison with perfect teeth." He answered and yet again it sounded so perfect. He knew just what to say to please you, comfort your mind as you wondered at what point he would turn on you. "Listen, you can't share this with anyone. This is my only chance to help you and they-" He said discreetly pointing to the tributes scattered around you, "Are only going to use you."

"Not like I've got anyone to share with. Don't think I'm very popular." You said, defeated. You supposed that out of anyone, you didn't want to befriend the people who would shortly be wishing death upon you but instead the man before you who would hold your hand until the moment you walked through that door.

"Maybe not with them but out here you have a chance. I've made some suggestions, I might be able to get the audience to send you gifts. Food and water. You just need to play into their game, win them over." He said, face against the fence as he wished to keep this information between the two of you. An advantage.

"I don't want to play their game, the same game that got me here in the first place? I don't think charming anyone is my forte anyway." You once again deprived yourself of any credit, picking at the skin around your nails.

"You're more charming than you think Y/N. I'd bet on it." He said, gaze digging deep into your soul. No one had ever complimented you before never mind in such a blatant way. You knelt down, tired of standing and he went with you continuing your conversation.

"Dill reminds me of my sister, before she passed. So sick and weak, I hate to think of her in a place like this." You shared, feeling vulnerable to him in such a short time.

"I'm sorry." He said genuinely.

"You seem like a good man Coriolanus. Would've been nice to meet you outside of this cage." You said, tapping on the metal bars before letting it settle there.

"Mhm." He agreed, tilting his head sympathetically and after moment of what must have been deliberation he wrapped his own hand around yours. It warmed your skin, chilled by the cold iron beneath your palm.

Your sweet moment was cut off by Arachne's scream as Brandy had enough of her teasing, smashing the bottle and using it to slice her neck.

You stared in horror, this was what you were up against in that arena, you stood no chance.

Coriolanus leaped into action, comforting the bleeding girl while Peacekeepers shot Brandy down. In all of your years alive you had never witnessed such violence and it left you shaking, even more so as the bullets narrowly missed Coriolanus' head.

The Peacekeepers grabbed his arm, once again pulling him away from you, your heart beating in his direction.

The next day you were all placed in a large circular room. You and your fellow tributes shackled to a table while the mentors sat proudly, postures straight before you.

You were allowed to discuss game plans for the main event but also for a televised special where the Capitol could get to know you. Nut it wouldn't really be you, just a shell of your former self.

"I'm sorry about your friend." You sympathised, he was clearly upset, scared you weren't sure but his energy was different to his hopeful exterior from yesterday.

"Thank you. Are you doing okay?" He deflected, though his care seemed and was genuine. He cared about you more than the way a mentor cares for the tribute. Your connection went deeper.

"I'm scared Coriolanus. You saw what those tributes can do yesterday. I'm nothing compared to them! I've never even killed a spider." You cried out in desperation, hands shaking where they were tied to the table.

"I'm scared for you, Y/N. I don't want to lose you in there, so I guess that makes two of us." He replied, soothing you. "But no matter how scared you are you have to perform for them in the interviews later. Pretend to be someone else or be yourself it doesn't matter but this is the last chance to make them like you. Didn't take much for you to win me over." He added.

"I- I just can't Coriolanus. I'm no performer. I'm no different to them just weaker and a character in their entertainment." You answered, slowly admitting defeat.

"You have to be brave, Y/N. For me, okay?" He begged, once again placing his hand over your own.

"I'll try." You decided. You either died of embarrassment or an axe to the face and you knew which you proffered.

"Snow. Let's go!" Shouted Casca, the creator of the games. A man you loathed.

"You'll be okay." He said before he left his chair leaving you to sit in the large room as the other debated their strategies.

Later on once you were allowed to view the arena he returned. Instantly walking in stride beside you as if he never left.

The arena was void of light except the red beams which pointed out the entrance. It was eerie and honestly a fabrication of your worst nightmares.

This time in your fear you felt no hesitation to grab onto his hand, and he grabbed your back, linking you fingers with a squeeze which said to you 'it's okay' without saying anything at all.

Seeing the cameras you released it, not wanting unnecessary attention upon yourselves.

The gates closed behind you with a loud clang, leaving you in the darkness and you stumbled back into his chest, the only thing keeping you from a breakdown being the steady beat of his heart beneath his chest.

Shutters on each wall began to rise letting in the natural sunlight outside but yet you were still very much in another cage.

While the other tributes decided their alliances you stuck by Coriolanus' side and he had no objections. "Coriolanus you can't met me die in here. I've got so much left to do." You begged, clutching the opening of his red suit.

"I wont let you die, Y/N. Even if it's the last thing I do." He replied, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. His words were laced with truth, knowing his plans to bend the rules in order to keep you alive.

The moment was short lived as the centre of the arena exploded, rubble and smoke flying everywhere including into your forehead as you felt blood trickle into your eye.

Both you and Coriolanus ran, though he was seconds too slow as a pillar fell onto his leg trapping him against the floor. While the other tributes ran having little regard for their mentors you ran back, pulling it off of him with every last ounce of power in your body.

Your heart ached hearing his cried but also with the pain that this was most likely the last time you would see him before the games as the Peacekeepers found you and dragged you back to the 'zoo' before you could attempt escape like the others.

"Y/N." You heard your name whispered into the darkness of the night. You hadn't slept, not since the thought of Coriolanus being dead crossed your mind and so it hadn't taken much to catch your attention.

"You're alive, thank god." You cried. Seeing his face untouched calmed your racing heart.

"The bombs, they changed everything. I've been in there, you can hide, the floors gone. You can hide until it's safe. Run when it starts and don't come out until it's safe, please Y/N. Don't go for the weapons." He begged to you. You had planned to hide in the first place but his desperation for your survival warmed your heart.

"Thank you Coriolanus snow. For taking care of me. Just like you promised." You said to him, tears beginning to fall from your eyes, the same tears you hadn't let fall since the train arrived in the Capitol.

"Just like I promised." He smiled. "You saved my life in there Y/N." He added.

"I'm sorry." You said as you couldn't hold back your desperate tears anymore. You were sorry you wouldn't succeed for him, sorry this was the last time you would see him, sorry that your heart ached for him.

"It's okay, It's okay." He soothed you. Wiping your tears with his embroidered handkerchief. "I'm gonna get you out of there. I promised after all, right?" He repeated his earlier declaration of promise, it meant everything to you and yet nothing. At the end of the day your survival came down to you and you didn't know if you could handle blood on your hands.

"Is this all real? Between you and me, do you really-" You began to ask, though he cut you off.

"I care about you, Y/N. Really. No amount of money could make me do this for you, risk it all. The things you wanted to do, wanted to live for? I want to do them with you. I want to give you the life you deserve." He said and that was all the confirmation you needed, the feelings you were having were real. Not part of the game, not faked for the cameras.

He was here in the middle of the night to help you.

"We are gonna win this, Y/N. We are gonna win this together."

It had now been fifty four days and counting since you had last seen him. The games had come and gone, what you thought was luck leaving you a victor.

Days had been boring since Coriolanus Snow left your life. You returned to what you had left behind in District Twelve, friends, no family and a wooden shack you called a home.

Your heart longed to see him, more than anything in this world you wished to feel his hand in yours one more time. Hear his reassuring words one more time though now you needed them to comfort your nightmares.

Today was the same as every day had been. Get up, bathe in a bucket, eat vegetables you found in the forest and then read the same books you had for the past eighteen years. It was all you had but now more than ever it felt good to be stuck in that cycle instead of stuck in a cage of people who called for your death.

A knock at your door at mid-day startled you. It was unusual to get visitors in District Twelve - everybody keeping to themselves and yet something dragged you to answer.

Opening the door you saw a figment of your dreams. White hair, blue eyes and pale skin, yet they were too real and close to be something your brain created.

"Y/N L/N, you are a sight for sore eyes." He said, his voice like butter in your ears.

"Coriolanus?" You asked before he tackled you into a hug, hands gripping you like you would slip through his fingers at any moment in time. "How- what." You began to ask.

"I was sent to Eight to be a Peacekeeper but I used my last cents to get sent here instead, then I just asked around to find you. Find my girl." He said as he held your face between his hands, checking you over for injuries. The last time he was you you were injured and cowering in the arena, begging to be set free.

"You found me." You whispered, diving in to kiss him. He responded immediately, wasting no time in curling his lips into yours. You fought for dominance but ultimately you let him take over, needing to let go for once.

"I missed you so much." You whimpered in both pleasure and pain as he kissed and nibbled on your neck. Dream becoming reality. "I begged with every last but of luck within me that I'd see you again." You confessed, bringing his face up to kiss you once more.

"And here I am." He smiled, staring into your eyes, breathing the same air as you.

"I thought my life ended that day, in that arena. Losing myself, then losing you." You admitted, eyes similar to the last time you saw him, glassy.

"Y/N, Y/N." He chuckled, "Our life has only just begun."

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#coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #young!coriolanus snow x reader #thg #the hunger game fic

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dwindlinghaze · 10 months

Note

helloo can i request a fic for introvert!reader with extrovert!remus lupin whos head over heels for her <3

yes u can darlin <3 🫧🫧 i sort of wrote this into a whole new story but i hope you like this one ☁️🌸🩷🤍

everytime

(remus lupin x reader)

contents : fem reader, toxic friendships, kissing, fluff !! not proofread

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the door slammed open, revealing three young witches with their hands full of shopping bags. you knew they were going to hogsmeade together, but a part of you wished they had invited you.

they're your roomates and friends.

you couldn't go as far as calling them your true friends because they don't involve you much in their group activities.

they go on picnics together, shopping for pretty dresses in hogsmeade, having brunch dates, going to the movies.

a part of you wished you're there, being together with them and just fitting in. but the other part of you were thankful as for they're not inviting you because you would feel left out anyways.

it was better to be left out, and only you know it, rather than being left out with other people knowing.

maybe it wasn't their fault. elina is pretty, smart, bright and outgoing. adrienne is cheerful, energetic, and sociable. cassie is ambitious, intelligent, and talkative. you laughed bitterly to yourself, realising that they all have similar traits- all really easy to talk to and would always have an on going conversation.

you couldn't even hold a conversation for more than four minutes. it feels like your fault now.

you sit alone the morning after. you usually sit with your 'friends' for breakfast, but you were hurt from yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. it was tiring, you needed break.

which caught the attention of a young gryffindor boy, sitting at the opposite end of the table.

remus lupin always thought you're the most beautiful person he ever saw. you two never talked, there's no reason to.

only his longing stares are the closest thing to interaction.

he thought you're beautiful. not the kind of beauty in magazines or billboards, but the kind of beauty that spreads through a field of mystical flowers. a kind that shines golden in daylight and a night fairy at late.

he saw the way you chew on your breakfast gloomily. he wondered why. you weren't spotted with your usual friends. you were just there. alone.

you would think of yourself as pathetic, but remus doesn't. he would never. he saw an angel-like soul that nobody's good enough to know. nobody's smart enough to notice.

he frowned when he saw you wiping away a tear before you got up, exiting the packed hall.

"frowning moony is not a safe moony," james said, quirking his eyebrows up.

"it's y/n, isn't it?" sirius questioned. the handsome man noticed how remus has been distracted from reality lately. he noticed how remus basically looks at you with heart eyes everytime.

"she looks sad today," remus noted, feeling an overwhelming sense of worry flooding him. it was funny to think about actually, you two never spoke a word to each other yet remus is worrying as if you're his.

"talk to her," james urged. "it's been- what was it? years of pining, you should make a move first because we all know she won't."

"i can't- y'know, my condition," remus huffed.

"she won't mind."

"how'd you know?"

"because- she is her...?" sirius said. "give it a try moony, if she doesn't love you with your condition then she doesn't deserve you, but if she does, it's worth it."

"right..."

that evening you sat down staring at an open window, catching your breath. you had been crying. you don't know why you're being so sensitive lately especially since your friends are always like this. why are you taking it so personal now?

you let the wind hit your face, drying your tears up with the cold breeze.

remus was on his nightly patrol around the castle. he's a prefect. that's how he heard a sniffle down the hall, his vision met with the most enchanting sight.

he walked slowly towards you, not wanting to scare. "hey... you alright?"

you turned around abruptly, wiping away the tears on your eyelashes. "i'm sorry for being out late."

"i'm not going to report you to professor mcgonagal, are you alright?" he asked once more.

"yeah, i'll be heading back to my dorm now," you collected yourself. the quiet footsteps didn't go unheard by you. remus was following you to the dorms.

"don't want filch to get you, i'll walk you there," he smiled a generous smile.

then silence fell between the two of you, only for remus to break it. "i know we're not friends but you can talk to me about it if you want, you can trust me," remus took hold of your upper arm, caressing it gently.

"thanks," was the only reply. you cringed at how short it sounded and he probably thinks you're rude and cold which is the opposite of who you are. your words aren't the best representation of yourself.

remus knew you were an introvert, hiding away from crowded rooms whenever you can. you never go to the parties his friends held. he knew you prefer reading to revelling.

he understands, he was once just like you. but with the help and support of his friends, he feels more comfortable in expressing himself now.

"will i see you tomorrow?" remus asked once you were inside the gryffindor common room.

"yeah, thank you- for not turning me in," you sent him an awkward smile.

the next day, you weren't in a better state either. you found out that cassie was talking horrible things about you with some slytherins. you weren't surprised. it was just your nature to constantly be disrespected by them.

remus saw you again that very day. your eyes were watery and your fingers were shaking.

he quickly ran up to you, his heart breaking into a million pieces. how dare someone did this to you?

"honey, you okay?" remus said, looking at you with the fondest eyes.

you almost cried again, hearing how someone actually asked you if you were okay. you shook your head in response.

"talk to me, we're friends," remus said softly. in reality, you two aren't technically friends. you only met face to face twice.

"we're friends?" you asked, feeling unsure.

"we are. from now on. now tell me who did this to you?"

"oh remus i can't," you shook your head.

"okay... but you can talk to me about anything okay? it doesn't have to be important. that's what friends are for," he smiled.

and oh when you smiled back, was like heaven to him. you looked like an ethereal angel with that divine smile and that archangelic face. he might as well fall in love right then and there.

the sparkles in your eyes that hold such loneliness and hope is what he calls beauty. the way you smiles even when you're sad just to assure him that you will be okay is heart warming. to him you weren't just beautiful for something as temporary as your face. you're beauty hides beneath that broken heart of yours, that delicate soul you have.

you opened up after a while, you feel you can trust remus. he is a calm and caring person. the way he asks 'how are you' every morning since. he wrapped his arm around your shoulder because he doesn't want to lose you in the sea of students. he cuts your breakfast so you can eat them easier. he reads to you softly when you cried again because of your friends.

he didn't know how much this has helped you to be okay again. how much you adored him for everything he does, even the questionable ones. you didn't care.

"rem, want to talk to you," you spoke, breaking his gaze from his book.

"i'm all ears, darling," he replied.

"you wanna know why i keep on crying?," you sniffed, ready to open up for the first time. "it's because- cause cassie, elina, and adrienne. they keep saying bad things about me- that you probably heard already. i used to always think we're friends, maybe not the kind like- you and me. but just friends... i guess. they keep leaving me out. it's like they don't even want me there." you were wiping tears away now, feeling unsure of yourself.

you never spoke of your feelings like this. never to anyone. how can remus made it so easy for you to be transparent to him?

"oh angel, they don't deserve you. they're too full of themselves to see how worthy you are. i think- i think you're the perfect just how you are. forget about them yeah? we will start a new beginning. you can come and sit with me from now on. no need to care about them. i will never make you sad, promise."

he pulled you to his chest, embracing you in a warm hug.

he made a promise to himself that every week, he will give you gifts and such to remind you how important you are. how much he loves and cares about you.

he couldn't let you waste your tears for your past friendship. remus treats you like a princess. he wants to make you smile. seeing you happy is what matters most because a dream girl should live in a dreamworld. and he made it a mission to make a perfect world for you.

he remembered you saying how those girls never invited you to picnics so here he is, inviting you to join the picnic he has set just for you and him.

"oh rem, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done!" you sighed, sitting yourself down on the carpet.

"it's nothing! you deserve it," he smiled proudly, pouring you and himself a cup of chamomile tea. your favourite.

there's something sparkling in your wrist. the shine of it glimmering under the perfect weather. you were wearing a bracelet remus gave to you a few days ago. a pretty silver chain with a moon and angel wings intertwined together.

when he first saw the jewelery on the display, it immediately reminded him of you so he just had to buy two of them. a matching bracelet.

god, nobody has ever even given you a friendship bracelet before.

he saw you, picking up the fresh strawberries with your delicate hands. 'what a dreamy girl' he thought 'and to have an angel like her to call my own'

he wanted to kiss you right there. everything was perfect at the moment. the soft honey rays of the sunshine warms the air surrounding the two of you, there's no reason for remus to scoot over closer to your figure. but he did anyways.

"i like a girl, no i actually love her," he started.

your heart sank, you thought maybe-just maybe remus is the one. he pulled you right out of misery in the best way.

remus saw your crestfallen expression, though he continued, "she makes my heart jump. she's the girl i've been in love with for a long time, i wanna go wherever she goes."

you forced a smile at him, munching on your strawberry that suddenly turned sour.

"she gets sad often, but that doesn't stop her from taking care of the people around her, and herself. she's smart and wise. she inspires me actually. everytime we say goodnight, i go to bed and sleep happily. dreaming of happy thoughts because when she's around, there's no negativity."

"i love her- y/n," he said, hinting at the way he emphasised your name.

"can i know who she is?" you asked shyly.

"can you guess?"

"i don't know..."

"well, i see her everytime," remus said, a smile playing on his lips.

"you see a lot of people everyday," you replied.

"i said everytime not everyday," he chuckled.

"that's not possible!"

"it is actually. i could never get tired of her. anyone is crazy if they do," he shook his head. "okay.. she smells like the most cosiest bakery in town."

"i don't think i know anyone that smells like a bakery."

"of course you don't, darling," remus said, cupping your cheeks. "'cause it's you. i'm in love with you,"

"wha- me?" you knitted your brows. he caressed them away.

"yes you, it's obvious actually. i thought you knew," remus chucked. "i don't have matching bracelets with anyone else, i never go on picnics, i never crochet someone a sweater before, i could go on but i want to hear what you have to say."

"i love you too, it's inevitable," you said, rubbing your cheeks further on his palms.

"can i kiss you?" he asked. he always considered himself a gentleman and he will be the most gentlemanly when it comes to you.

you responded with a soft nod, then he pressed his lips against yours. slowly but surely, he felt you melting in the kiss and god does that feel way more magical than the daydreams he had about this. his tongue manoeuvred its way inside your mouth, meeting yours in a soft touch that sent shivers down your spine. he loves the way you taste, licking the remnants of strawberry juice in your mouth.

he placed his hand on the back of your head while the other wrapped itself around waist, making you impossibly closer to him.

you didn't know how long that lasted but when you pulled away, the both of your cheeks were bright red and the smiles couldn't be wiped away.

#remus lupin x reader #character x you #x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin x reader fluff

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stellarsagittarius · 11 months

Text

Where you would meet your future husband / wife based on your Jupiter / Venus Persona Chart, Pt. 2

Masterlist: All my astrology posts at one place

(If you are looking for a man, check your Jupiter Persona Chart. If you are looking for a woman, check your Venus Persona Chart)

(Disclaimer: Don't be fixed on this reading! Always have an open mind because the Universe works the best when you have trusted and let go of expectations! Also, the chart won't tell you the exact place or time or how you would feel about something, no one can do that. What it WILL tell is the theme that can be the most prevalent during that event, and how the event can play out.)

Asteroid 1585 is the Union asteroid. It will show how you can "meet" or "come together" with someone.

◇◇ Union through the Signs ◇◇

Union in Aries or Mars as the Ruler

The energy will be sudden, spontaneous and impulsive. Expect the unexpected. Aries energy is in a constant motion. Mars rules motion and drive. The situation could be very new to you, or you were totally unprepared when this happened. Aries is hot and fast so it could be associated with cars, driving, amusement parks, the color red, spices, fireworks, war, battlefields, etc. [I hope nobody meets their s/o in a battlefield! It's giving Fortnite/PubG, tho, if Union has 4th or 3rd house connection!] Regardless, the energy will be quick and sudden. Expect someone to overcome their doubts or finally make the move. It's all about courage, being bold, and stamina. The communication is expected to flow quite well. You can meet while at the gym or in traffic. Think of a situation where you have to exert labor or force. This energy is giving, "Getting out and grabbing something!" The meeting will be direct, and for achieving a certain purpose. The purpose can be anything, but the communication will take place to get to something.

Union in Taurus or Venus as the Ruler

Taurus rules earth, natural beauty, the five senses, stability, a long term focus, the material realm. So this meeting could take a little time to materialize. With Taurus, there is the need for patience, to build a stable thing one step at a time. Perhaps communication takes time in this relationship. Taurus rules earthy color tones. Taurus energy is slow moving, practical, stubborn, materialistic. Perhaps you meet around nature or around a very pleasant weather. Perhaps self care is a big focus around the time you meet them! You might have long terms plans that you are working on, at the time you meet them. It could be a quiet phase in your life where you are taking it day by day, building things for yourself and focusing on living a very grounded lifestyle. You could be naturally drawn to their beauty or they could be drawn to yours. You guys might talk about/bond over the matters of your possessions or shared values/beliefs. You can give each other a valuable something on the first meeting.

Union in Gemini or Mercury as the Ruler

Gemini is quick, but it's not quick in the mars way. Gemini is quick mentally. It rules your mind, logic, communication, young restless energy, curiousity and an energy of speaking your mind. There could be direct communication or sharing of information involved. Gemini rules early education, the hands, writing, speech, words, information, news, etc. Perhaps you meet them while gossiping! This is a classic social media indicator, as well. This could be a person with similar ideas as you, they could even be "around" you a lot before you actually notice them. Like a classmate or a cute waiter at the coffee shop you regularly visit to complete your homework, and you realise that they are interested in what you are studying. You both will bond over similar ideas and interests, and will be very talkative right from the beginning. Some places could be a library, bookstore, classrooms, newsrooms, news agencies etc. (I have this with 2 of my besties that I met in high school, in our class!)

Union in Cancer or Moon as the Ruler

Cancer rules your emotions, your gut instincts, the person you are at the deepest level, what's truly in your heart, your home and privacy. So think of being in your comfort when you meet them. This could indicate having quite some boundaries up, the inability to open up right away, and being protective over yourself. This meeting can also happen in a very emotional period your life, or a period where the "mother" archetype is pretty prevalent, whether it's you or someone else very close to you. This could be at home, or somewhere where you feel comfortable. A place/time without rush or aggression or a lot of movement. This person might look straight into what you had been feeling. Opening up to this person may take some time. You might meet at somebody else's home, if not yours, like your Grandma's or Aunt's. Cancer rules water bodies, crabs, the home, seafood, the color of the moon, etc. Perhaps it's around a time where there's a significant event going on with the moon, like a full moon or a lunar eclipse.

Union in Leo or Sun as the Ruler

When there is Leo energy present in a chart, expect bold moves. Expect confidence and a desire for self expression. Sun as as the ruler signifies that this is gonna be a situation where you are shining/or they are shining. This is related to charm and creativity. This energy would make a situation/person lively, dramatic and strong. Situations that remind me of Leo and the Sun energy, is a creative social media platform, theather, the stage, being a leader or an influential person, getting major recognition for something, etc. This is also a situation where you are the center of attention. You might be in a very important part of your life regarding fame and recognition. Expect to meet in the daytime, or during a warm sunny day! You could be focusing on becoming more confident. Or you could be simply having a lot of fun, and life is filled with something exciting!

Union in Virgo or Mercury as the Ruler

Virgo rules the practical side of mercury. While Gemini is quick in thoughts and restless which can cause them to be in a scattered energy, Virgo is analytical, practical and grounded. Details don't go unnoticed. Virgo is related to health care, everyday tasks, an eye for detail, problem solving, fixing things, etc. You might be super focused on your work and routines when this meeting happens, to the point you become lost in details. This can lead to a meeting where you are pretty skeptical of the person, or you would want to know every detail of who they are, why they texted you, etc. You will meet in a pretty regular/ordinary manner. Think of going to get your groceries and you guys' bump heads. Virgo is the energy of a busy-body, someone who gotta run errands, check off the list, etc. This will be a pretty regular meeting, nothing over the top, no effort that you have to make to have that meeting. Go with the flow of your daily life, focus on your wellbeing, and one fine regular morning you will bump into each other. Also, pay attention to the details you would normally ignore because there might be something important that you would be overlooking.

Union in Libra or Venus as the Ruler

Libra energy is all about harmony, balance, relationships, the art of being pleasant, beautiful aesthetics, etc. It's different from Taurus energy in the sense that Taurus is stubborn and focused on materials and practical things, it's the natural kind of beauty. While Libra is the sort of beauty that radiates attractiveness, a good-looking face/style/body, etc. Libra also rules harmonious relationships, it is a very social sign. Think of a very high class event, where everything is very plesant, the interactions are super elegant, the aesthetics are super pleasing to the eye. This could indicate meeting through someone else, or meeting in a social circle, through networking, etc. Your beauty/fashion could be a significant factor in the meeting. You could meet in places related to art, fame, beauty, fashion, a place where your "image" matters, a networking event, music festivals, etc. You both could be introduced to each other through someone who is in the art/fashion industry. You both could connect over similar interests related to beauty and fashion. Or when you meet this person, you might be in a pretty well balanced/harmonious stage of your life. They might approach you in a very friendly manner.

Union in Scorpio or Pluto as the Ruler

Scorpio rules secrets, depth, taboo, intense emotions, privacy, etc. If Cancer is private and homey, Scorpio is freakin closed off shell, and the definition of intense. So, there could be themes related to privacy or secrets. If this has 3rd house connections, it's giving meeting while gossiping. You could be at a point in life where you are self-evaluating, you could be going through many transformations, you could be at a point where you are reconsidering which people to keep in your life and which people to cut off. The meeting itself can be at dark or secret place. There could be themes of alcohol, cigarettes, weapons, night, abandoned places, conspiracies, scandals, etc. You can meet through something that is quite a topic that we don't talk about just with anyone. On your first meeting, you both could be distrustful of each other, or the communication could be very lowkey and mundane (to avoid letting each other see deeply). This also relates to private accounts. I honestly can't say much about this placement. But yeah, this person or you could see each other as quite intense or closed off.

Union in Sagittarius or Jupiter as the Ruler

Sagittarius rules travel, philosophy, expansion, foreign lands, long distance communication, a broad horizon, a bigger and open mind, higher education, etc. Wherever Sagittarius is placed, it will give an air of expansion to the native, whether it's physical or mental or emotional. You can meet this person through travel or through pursuing some sort of higher education. And since it also rules long distance communication, social media is a thing here, especially if there is a 1st, 3rd or 10th house connection, since it relates to "profiles and messaging another person". Sagittarius will give a sense of abundance to the native, so perhaps you or your s/o will see each other as pretty philosophical or open minded. Sagittarius is also associated with exploration and being curious to see what is out there, so you can literally meet while having some adventure or activities where you do something to gain spiritual insight. This kinda reminds me of Ayahuasca, because you gotta travel to gain that wisdom, so take it however it resonates, it's more prominent if Sagittarius is in 12th house! So yes, this meeting will have the theme of philosophy and discussions of topics that are very wide and requires a higher perspective.

Union in Capricorn or Saturn as the Ruler

Capricorn is the energy of building something, reaching a certain height focused on building things, whether it's for your career or your hobbies or your relationships. Capricorn energy gives a structure to whatever house it's placed it. So it can be perceived as formal and ambitious. Capricorn is associated with hard work, hustle, limits, the order and structure of things, etc. It also rules the bones in a human body. And this is a classic indication for work and career. So you can meet your s/o through your work or career. Capricorn reminds me of buildings, so think of a a company or an apartment complex (depending on which house Capricorn is in). The first meeting could very well be formal and about a problem that needs to be solved. Capricorn reminds me of the color grey, and naturally quite dull colors, so take it however it resonates. There will be themes related to ambition, work, problem solving, public image, achieving a goal, etc. The situation could be pretty slow moving, but there will be this sense of loyalty and responsibility with each other. This isn't a meeting where you would ditch each other for the next two months or ghost each other after a week of talking. The communication will be carried out with a sense of responsibility! You both can be a bit shy as well :)

Union in Aquarius or Uranus as the Ruler

Aquarius is all the energy that you can't put in the label of other zodiac signs or houses. It has everything that is not classified or unusual. Uranus rules unpredictability, out of the ordinary, innovations (only when they are new, because after some time they will become a part of the ordinary). Aquarius is otherworldly. But it also cares a lot about this world. So think of humanity, environment, activism, wanting change for a better world, etc. As a first meeting, it could be super unpredictable! While Aries is the energy of being unprepared, Aquarius is kind of the same, but also unpredictable. With Aries, once you know what you got yourself into, you may plan ahead. But with Aquarius you don't know what will happen next. You both may connect over humanitarian themes, or the communication might feel super detached and aloof. This meeting wouldn't have emotional intimacy in it, there will be an aura of detachment. With Aquarius, simply expect nothing. It will happen in a super unique manner. You may want to look at the house Union asteroid is in, since it will give this meeting a better context!

Union in Pisces or Neptune as the Ruler

Pisces rules mysticism, the imaginary, dreams, visions, creativity, intuition and anything that is from the unseen realm. It has much to do with the mind, than the material world. This meeting can really feel magical or you won't be able to focus on the details. As if it just woo you away into a dreamy inner world. This can feel very intuitive and emotional. Fishes, water and waterbodies can be involved somehow. You might even meet your s/o on a vacation. There is the energy of relaxation, honoring your inner world, feeling vulnerable, etc. The communication might be pretty deep or you might miss out on plenty of details because of the dreamy nature of this situation. You might dream of this person the night before you meet them. Perhaps this person is a bit shy or you aren't able to know things/information about them clearly, (due to Neptune almost blurring out important details). It will be more passive and receptive. The places associated with Pisces are aquariums, art museums, theaters, bookstores, art/literature schools, picture galleries, etc. Look at more details of the place, in part 1 of the series!

You can book an Astrology reading with me 🌙✨️!

Stay tuned for more Astrology content ✈️!!

#future spouse #union persona chart #astrology chart #astrology readings #astrology husband #jupiter persona chart #venus persona chart #astrology chart readings #natal chart reading #natal chart

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luveline · 1 year

Text

𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

You're not sure you're ready to come back. Hotch has total faith in you. Or, your transition back into the team after your abduction doesn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped.

6k words, fem!reader, bau!reader, some mutual pining, reader is suffering from effects of ptsd, allusions to kidnapping + torture, hurt/comfort, hotch has a soft spot for you (as do most of the team)

༺༻

Reid was abducted, once.

You can remember the anxiety of it like a hand around your throat. It feels cruel to say that his abduction and torture had effected you more than if it had been a stranger, but you meet so many people, so many victims of cruelty, that the fear starts to blunt.

Though it doesn't blur. You find it impossible to forget the people that you've failed, and failing a team mate? That had been excruciating.

Only when you'd been taken yourself had you realised it wasn't a failure at all.

You wish the others would understand that.

"Are you feeling okay?" Prentiss asks as you sit down.

You suppose you had gone down a bit hard. "Mm?" you hum in question, pulling a copy of the initial case file toward you.

"You looked a little wobbly."

"Long night?" Morgan asks.

There's both sympathy and mirth in his voice. If you did have a long night, it wouldn’t be from anything fun. He knows that. Everybody knows that. That's why they're treating you like glass.

"I actually slept really well," you say softly, returning his smile with one that's entirely genuine.

"That's good, considering," he says, bracing his forearm against the conference table.

He's been your number one supporter since you came back. Probably because he feels very guilty about what happened. You'd been paired up at the time.

"Actually, it's common for people who've been abducted to sleep incredibly well for a long period afterward. It's similar to the leisure sickness phenomena- Your body would have been in defence mode, and-"

"Reid," Hotch says firmly, stepping into the room with his usual lowbrow.

"Sorry."

And the spiel begins. JJ lays out the details of the case she's triaged and the team gives their first input. The barest beginnings of a working theory. You try to contribute and find your tongue a leaden weight in your mouth. Ever since you got back, you've been useless.

You can't do your job, but thank god you can sleep at night, right?

You miss the start of his sentence, your focus latching onto Hotch's conclusive, "Wheels up in thirty."

Your team are standing in seconds, trained in the art of quick departures. You used to be good at this part. You're a good agent, even when you're a mediocre profiler.

"L/N?"

You blink. "Mm?" you hum, meeting your unit chief's concerned look with a perfected blasé.

You've come to a stand in front of the table, and everyone else has left. It's you and Hotch alone.

"If you're not ready to go back into the field, that's okay."

If you were Reid, or Prentiss, or especially Morgan, you'd get defensive here, and you would lie well, but you’re a bad liar and Hotch is a great detector for them, so you tell the truth.

"I'm not sure that I'm ready, but I'd like to go. I won't be a burden. I can work effectively."

"I know you won't be a burden."

You tilt your head to one side and feel your hair shift over your thick sweater. You haven't felt like showing much skin, lately. Everybody has noticed, because they notice everything, and nobody has made you feel bad about it. In fact, your fellow agents have made numerous comments about the chilly weather. It's July.

Hotch's eyes fall to your long sleeves for a split-second.

"Do you think he's alive?" you ask.

"Sorry?"

You nod your head toward the board, where the portrait of your kidnapping victim hangs in full colour. "Do you think he's alive?"

"Unless there's evidence that would suggest otherwise, we shouldn't assume. You know that."

"I know that that's the answer you're used to giving."

His voice goes too soft, like he's talking to somebody in grief. "I think he is."

You honestly can't stand it when he talks to you like this. You tilt your head a little further and see him the way he'd been that morning, his tenderness, his fear. He'd opened the door and suddenly you'd known you were safe.

He hasn't looked at you right since he found you.

"I have all my best clothes in my go-bag," you offer.

"Well, go get it. This might be a long one."

—

The jet is a really nice jet.

It's hard not to feel impressed by it. It's a vehicle that can take you from one crime scene to another, and it's a necessary expense, but it feels lavish. The clean smells, the comfort, the kitchenette. It has a full-sized toilet.

"Missed this?" Morgan asks knowingly.

You wheedle your way into one of the four seats surrounding the main table and smile when he drops down next to you. "Missed using you as my personal pillow, maybe," you tease.

"Table hogs," Prentiss complains, sitting on the armrest of the couch in defeat.

You laugh under your breath. Morgan pulls out his laptop and turns the screen so everyone can see Garcia, and as soon as the jet's taken off the second round of speculation begins.

You regret sitting where you had quickly. You can feel Hotch's analysing gaze where he sits opposite. He doesn't believe you're ready to come back.

You lick your lips.

"Why would she cut him open just to kill him straight afterward?" JJ asks. "I mean, if she didn't assault him?"

"It's unlikely that she's a sadist," Reid infers.

"Disembowelment is a pretty painful, horrific way to die. Maybe she realised that and killed him," Morgan suggests.

"Remorse?" you murmur. "Could mean she's… younger. And revenge killers don't always see it through."

"Why take another one if you can't commit to the first?" Prentiss asks.

"Maybe that's why she took him. She wants time to work herself up," you mutter.

You hide your hands under the table. It's hard to ignore the similarities with the current case and the one you're investigating. The unsub who'd taken you had been narcissistic and self-righteous, punishing the BAU for stopping her second murder — you'd predicted her next victim and moved him before she could take him.

So her victimology had changed, and she'd stolen you.

She couldn't commit to her first session of torture: hesitant cuts, loose ligatures. By your turn she'd improved, but her tentative resolve had remained and she'd run after three days. It's the worst thing she could've done, buying herself less than a week on the run and leaving you with no outside communication.

You'd almost died of dehydration.

"She's choosing from a specific group," Reid says. He holds up a photograph of the first victim. He'd been murdered in his bedroom, and the walls are plastered in playboy. Kill all men has been written across his forehead in red lipstick. "Our abductee, he was wearing a t-shirt featuring popular bikini model Miss Olympia. In a state of undress."

“Is that specific?” Prentiss asks wryly.

"She's angry," you say.

Hotch leans forward and clicks Garcia's call button. "Garcia?"

"Sir."

"Are there any prolific feminist groups in the area? Radicals?"

They fall into conversation, a pulling and pushing of information. Something about online forums, flame wars, political arguments.

It's not the strongest theory in the world but they can make it work. You should be making it work with them.

The flight is an early morning longhaul to Idaho and you work the case the entire time you're in the air. There's an abundance of coffee that you reject because you're worried it'll rehash your on-again off-again migraine, and while your teammates are offering theories, intertwining details with bright eyes and bushy tails, you struggle to keep up.

There's a lull before landing where everybody parts ways. JJ moves to sit with Prentiss where they talk in hushed but conspicuous giggles. You hear the words Will and dishes and back rub and decide to stop listening for your own sake.

Morgan laughs, having heard what you just heard and liking it a far deal more, and stands. "Coffee?" he asks as you yawn.

You shake your head sluggishly. "Be quick, we'll be landing soon."

"I know, sweetheart, I heard the same announcement as you." He takes your empty water glass with a supportive squint. "Let me get you another."

"Thanks."

You'd regretted your seat as soon as you'd taken it, the feeling of being boxed in having grown and grown over the course of the journey, and Morgan’s brief departure gives you some much needed space.

You squeeze your hands together until your knuckles ache.

"L/N?"

Hotch is looking at you. You know exactly what he sees. Someone who isn't ready to be back in the field. Someone who isn't being effective, as you'd promised.

"You okay?"

"Just warm,” you lie, pushing your hair away from your neck.

You're a bad liar. He gets up to turn on the air conditioning anyway.

You slouch down in your chair and pretend to nap for the rest of the flight.

—

Crime scenes where people died smell bad. It's a fact. They smell like pee, the sharp stick of ammonia, and the metallic aftertaste of blood. You're trying hard not to fall into your own memories of the two.

You need to move past what happened. The only way you're gonna be able to do that is to re-desensitise yourself, and that includes volunteering for the nasty stuff when Hotch tries to relegate you to questioning witnesses.

"I'm not good at interviews," you'd said plainly.

And he'd taken it for what it was and let you do what you usually do: you look for clues. If anybody could hear you think that you'd be ridiculed, but they can't. You enjoy yourself.

Let's Scooby Doo this bitch.

"Careful," Hotch says, holding a hand near your hip. You'd almost stepped into the largest puddle of blood still wet in the very middle.

Right. He'd let you take the gross job but now you're being babysat.

What did she do in this room? Why did she kill him here but abduct the second man?

"If it weren't for the photos, I'd never link this victimology," you confess.

The photos. The unsub had sent pictures of her abductee with Kill all men written across his forehead. In lipstick.

What changed the MO? Why kill the first at home and steal the second?

The political theory feels more plausible.

"I think you would've." Hotch casts his gaze over the desk. "This is a messy one. Opportunistic but personal. Our unsub, she…" His voice turns to a mutter, as it tends to do when he hits a roadblock. "She wants attention, because the first murder didn't do what she'd hoped."

"What is she hoping for?"

He picks up a piece of coloured paper and holds it up to his chest so you can see it. It's a flyer for speed dating at a Café Martini, every Friday at 6PM.

"Where was Paul last seen?" you ask.

"Good question."

He takes his phone from his pocket to call Garcia.

You listen to their conversation for a while, his serious questions and her flirtatious answers.

You look back to the floor and push the white toe of your tennis shoe into the rug until the rubber's red with blood. It's not good practice. You're now a walking biohazard. Why is the blood still wet? It should've sunk into the carpeting hours ago. How much did he bleed?

When you'd been abducted your unsub hadn't been keen on torture. She'd made small, quick cuts over your upper arms, more to punish you than because she truly enjoyed it, and she'd hit something important by accident.

The blood had pooled in the crook of your elbow. It had stayed wet for a long time. You remember trying to clean yourself up with your t-shirt, too drugged up to move right, and eventually the drugs had worn off and it had really, really hurt.

This boy had been cut from hip to hip.

"Maybe you should go sit in the car," Hotch says.

"Why?"

"I've been talking to you."

"I've been listening."

"Don't lie." Hotch takes a step forward, black shoe close to your white. "Look at me."

You look up, eyebrows raised as you try to blink yourself awake. His eye contact is something you've always struggled to hold, knowing he's learning a lot more from your expression than you are from his. You press the backs of your hands to your cheeks and find them hot with embarrassment.

"I'm really sorry," you apologise, eyes aching. Not burning, just aching. Like a bruise.

Hotch nods, expression impassive. "It's okay. Go sit in the car."

He outranks you as an SSA, he's your boss for every intent and purpose. He's your friend, sometimes, and you've yet to see him make a bad call. You listen and go back out and down to the car. You've already broken your promise not to be a burden.

Best to play along and play well. You don't want a desk job. You don't want to lose the team.

In the car, things feel better. It smells like new and you take some time to breathe it in with slow, deep breaths. The pine tree air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror is still soft and wet to touch. You rub it between two fingers, pensive, until Hotch appears from the house. He looks severe and solemn as usual when he opens the car door and climbs inside.

"Tell me if you can't do this," he says. He never beats around the bush. You wish that he would.

"I don't know."

"I need a yes or no."

You're screaming at yourself to say yes. Hotch stalls with his hand poised at the ignition, waiting for your answer before he turns the key. If you say no, I can't do this, he'll take you back to the room. You know he won't hold it against you because he'd tried to persuade you to take more time off, as much as you needed.

Being alone reminds you too much of your abduction. You hate how you can't stop thinking about it. At work, at home. What if this is it? This is the only thing you're going to think of for the rest of your life.

Unless you can get some new memories.

"I can do this."

"I know that. Do you know that?" he asks firmly.

You lean your head back against the headrest and turn your face to look at him fully. You hadn't been expecting any praise, any softness. You're fucking up on a time-sensitive case — he should be reprimanding you. He should send you packing to Virginia.

"I'm sorry," you say softly.

"For what?" he asks. His eyebrows pinch up at the starts, his lips curve into a frown.

It's startling to see so much emotion on his face on the job; Aaron Hotchner has a switch. He comes to work and he turns off everything that doesn't help the case. Only on rare occasions do you get to see him as a friend — his laughter over group dinner dates, his gentle smiles when he'd kept you company in the hospital.

"For being- For being disorganised," you explain choppily. It is not the right word.

He turns the key and reverses out of the parking space before speaking. "You are an asset to this team. If you can't be an asset right now, that's fine. If you need to go home-"

"I don't need to go home."

He doesn't seem offended at being interrupted. "Your wellbeing is more important than your effectiveness as a profiler. But you can't get in the way."

"I won't."

"I know you won't. Just…" He pulls his phone out of his pocket, dials a number. He's not looking at you when he finishes, "Calm down. Stay present. We need you with us."

You turn your face to the window so he can't see your smile. He hasn't been this nice to you since your birthday.

—

The thirty six hour mark comes to pass quickly and you find yourselves no closer to a positive ID on the unsub or their location. Any leads you follow dry up, witnesses won't cooperate, nobody has slept properly (besides yourself), and the boy's parents are hysterical. Hysterical and an irritant.

You can hear them arguing with Hotch and the police chief in the other room.

"You look amazing," JJ says tiredly. You can't tell if her annoyance is genuine or not.

"Did you sleep?" you ask.

JJ looks amazing herself despite what she might say, all perfect skin and lovely blonde hair like a moving sheet of silver-gold. You revere her pretty thin sweater with poorly hidden envy as she yawns and stretches against her straight-backed chair.

"I slept. Bed was about as comfy as this chair," she says ruefully.

"Ninety percent of all abduction victims are killed within the first thirty-six hours," Hotch says as he enters the room, in what Morgan would call his drill sergeant's drawl. "Every hour past that point, the percentage increases."

Everybody in the room knows that statistic. His passive aggressive reminder serves to electrify a dozing Reid and a slumped Prentiss, both of which sit up in their chairs and pretend to be busier than they are as he makes his way into the room.

"Actually," Reid whispers to you, voice rough with fatigue, "the math isn't that simple."

"Do you want to explain it to me?" you whisper back.

You can't admit to really truly listening to Reid's explanation. You want him to feel heard even when you don't have the capacity for it, so you nod and hum as he explains, heads bent together as the rest of the team trade new theories. He talks surprisingly quickly for all his fatigue, and before you've realised it he's talking about something new.

"Reid," you intrerupt gently, "can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

You look up. Everyone seems too busy to be listening to you. You take what semblance of privacy you can and push your chair an inch closer.

"Do you think I've been an efficient agent these last two days?"

He juts his head forward. "You've been distracted. Tired, unfocused. But your insight on the unsub's age and what you said about her propensity for regret are both incomparable parts of the profile."

"But easily something someone else would've suggested?"

"Not necessarily." He smiles at you, a mirthful quirk. "Psychologically, the effect that working a case so close to your own trauma," — you bite your tongue in surprise — "would render the average person prone with memory. It also gives you a thought pattern that not everybody else would have."

"You have it."

"Let's focus on the behaviour pattern," Hotch says.

You'd agreed to run point today. Or rather, Hotch had said, "L/N, you'll run point," and you hadn't argued. After all, yesterday had been telling on how much you can handle. Crime scenes are a no go.

Not that there's any crime scene left to analyse. Your team have spent hours and hours trying to draw blood from stone. The case hadn't felt so impossible on the jet, and now…

"I'm benched," you murmur.

"You're not benched," Morgan says, which is irksome because you'd been talking to Reid. "If you were benched you'd be back in Virginia typing up my paperwork."

"She doesn't care about the crime scene, she doesn't care about the crime itself. There's nothing in it for her besides making a statement. So why take a hostage with no ransom, no instruction? Why tell us you have a hostage and cut communication?"

You rub your eyes at Reid's questions and find you have no theories to offer. You have nothing.

"Work the problem," you mumble to yourself. "Work the problem. Where would she go?"

She cut that boy from hip to hip. She killed him quickly after rather than leave him in pain, but she disembowelled him for the statement it would make. For the… mess?

You feel off-kilter enough to stand. You weave through people and hesitate in front of Hotch where he's reading over the timeline, waiting for his face to turn before you talk.

"Hotch," you say tentatively, "what if she's like… an arsonist? Disemboweling is messy. The blood was still wet when we got here two days later, and it ruined the floor."

He thinks for a second. "Her escalation from a private mess to a public one would make sense."

"We thought the pathway from murder to taking a hostage was a step backwards, but what if it's not about the murder at all, it's about the blood?"

"It's common for arsonists to suffer paternal violence," Reid chimes in. "Could explain the unsub targeting men with outward misogynistic attitudes."

You turn to find the whole team looking at you, a familiar drive on each of their faces.

They rebuild the profile. Reid fiddles with what you've said, they specify, they redirect.

Your moment of clarity dissolves quickly but you try to help as they move on to possible locations. If the unsub wants to make a scene, light a metaphorical fire, there are plenty of places she can do it this weekend.

Surprise surprise, Garcia confirms a 'men's rights' rally happening in around two hours, and suddenly everybody's in motion. Hotch lists instructions and the team disperses. You've done it all a hundred times before, Hotch quadruple that, Rossi octuple.

"L/N," Hotch says.

You lift your face to his.

He's really quite close.

"Do you want to stay here?"

You take note of his wording. Do you want to stay here?

His phone is already in his hand. You don't wanna waste anymore of his time. You're pretty useless during movements anyways.

"Is that okay?" you ask.

He doesn't say yes or no, his head doesn't give the slightest nod or shake. His eyebrows remain in their usual pushed down position. "Expand the profile. Make sure we haven't missed anything." In case the unsub isn't where you think.

And then he leaves.

You take your seat at a now hastily vacated table and spend an hour on the laptop with Garcia. She's mostly at the beck and call of the rest of the team, but it's nice to listen to her clicking away.

She hangs up when the team are about to storm the rally venue and things get difficult.

You'd passed all your psych evaluations to return. You can be an effective agent. You can work.

You know all of this.

It won't stick.

You don't have a clue how long you spend staring at the table when your phone starts to ring. "Morgan?" you ask, pressing the screen to your cheek.

"Hey, sweetheart, we got her. And Paul, safe and sound. You ready to go home?"

"Uh," you say, trying to understand what he's said. "I'm not sure." Your migraine is coming back.

When a person gets dehydrated your head starts to pound. It's like a heartbeat, a pulsing ache at the base of your skull and your temples.

You know that it's all in your head, but ever since you got back you've been victim to what feels like a hundred headaches.

Your head hurts, and you look at the floor and suddenly the floor isn't the dull blue carpeting of the police station, but the plywood of your unsub's warehouse.

"Are you there?"

"Morgan, I don't feel well," you say. Your mouth is full of cotton.

"What?"

You cast your gaze around the room.

You leave your phone on the table, unsure if you've hung up, and make your way out of the conference room they've delegated to the BAU. You're in two minds. You know where you are, and who you are, but you feel like you're back there. The walls look like the police station walls but the floor looks like the base plywood of the warehouse.

I'm just thirsty, you think. When you'd been kidnapped you'd become dehydrated somewhere between the fourth and fifth day, and that had come with some minor auditory and visual hallucinations. Dark spots in your peripherals shaped mildly like people, murmurings that could've been the cicadas. Right now, there's a low pitched ringing in your ears. I'm dehydrated. I'm fine. I need a drink, and I'll be okay.

You don't have the facilities to smile at the people you pass, easing your way through officers and into an empty break room. There's nobody here.

You round the table in the middle of the room and move to the cabinets and the sink basin. You take a mug into shaking hands and turn the faucet on.

The water is frigid and soon your fingers are like ice. You part them in the stream, watching the water worm down your palms and wet the cuffs of your sleeves.

"Agent L/N, is everything okay?"

You turn with a smile, ready to assuage any fears, but it's her.

It's obviously not her. It's not her, but she looks like her. Same face, same hair. You turn back to sink and fill your mug.

"Agent L/N?"

"Please," you say quietly.

"Agent L/N?"

"Detective, would you excuse us?"

His voice. Your shoulders relax just enough to ease the ache in your neck. You hear the woman depart, but you're disorientated enough to ask, "Is she still here?"

"She's not here."

“She looked-“ like her. You press your wet hands to the bottom of the sink. It's silver and covered in scratches, a thousand scratches that glow white with the fluorescents. "I don't think I should be here," you mumble.

"I think you're overwhelmed."

"I am." You cringe at the numbness spreading up your arms. "I don't know how to make it go away."

Hotch isn't just your boss. He's a father. He was a husband. He knows how to comfort somebody and he's proven that to you already, but you're still surprised when he pulls your hands out of the sink. He holds both in one palm while he turns off the faucet, and then he tears off a wad of paper towels and starts to dry your fingers.

"You're not in any danger here," he says, turning your hands palm up. "There are a wall of people out there who would stand in front of you. Nothing is going to happen to you."

Despite his careful reassurances you're curling in on yourself, trying to hide. You don't want to be here. You're not sure where you want to be. You have the self-awareness to know you're being awful, that this is embarrassing, and you've put Hotch in a position he likely doesn't want to be in, too.

You blink at his chest. "Where's your suit jacket?" you ask. Your voice sounds far away in one ear and too loud in the other.

"I left it in the car," he says lightly. "We just got back from the rally. You were waiting for us here."

"I didn't go."

"No. You haven't been at your best."

"I'm trying."

"I know," he says softly, thumbs rubbing over your warming fingers. "I know you are. You're doing really well. Why don't we sit down?"

You let him lead you backward into a hard-backed chair. He doesn't sit with you, but he doesn't let go of your hands. They're limp in his and smaller, colder.

You think he might be the only thing keeping you here.

"I've never been that scared before. I've had a… gun to my head and… it wasn't even her-" You choke on it. "Her. She hurt me and it wasn't even the worst part."

He frowns down at you. "What was the worst part?"

You let your fingers unfurl across his open palm. He pulls your hands to his chest, sandwiches them between his own hands and his crisp white shirt. His tie feels silky soft.

"I didn't want to be alone. I," — you close your eyes and press your chin to your chest, hiding, always hiding — "knew I wasn't going to last long by myself. I could see that bottle of water on the table and I couldn't reach it and I just kept waiting for somebody to open the door and pass it to me, and I was so scared that nobody was ever going to do that.

"I close my eyes and- and I see it. I see the wood flooring, and I see the table. I can't remember anything that she said to me anymore, but I remember thinking you weren't ever coming to get me."

You can see the way the light from a crack in the corrugated roof had lit the water bottle up like a lamp. You barely have to think about it and the image of it is there. Your mouth had ached.

You can see him if you try a little harder. The door flying open. Hotch in his vest with his hair falling onto his forehead, a gun in one hand and a flashlight held high in the other. His broad, quick sweep, and then the way he'd leapt for you. His voice, shouting, screaming instructions. You can feel his hand behind your head, his fingers pushed roughly into your hair.

"You're okay," he'd said.

You trust him with your life. You've never had cause to doubt him. But you hadn't believed him then, and you're not sure you do now.

His expression changes slowly. He moves both of your hands into one of his own and squeezes them reassuringly as he cups your cheek. It's a quick touch, a half-second of contact.

"You made a mistake, in that case," he says, hand moving from your cheek to the hill of your shoulder.

You tamp down a wince. "Yeah." He's being generous. You'd made hundreds of mistakes. Every opportunity to save yourself wasted.

"Your mistake," he says, holding your eye, his voice gritty with severity, "was thinking I wouldn't find you.”

He turns to a blur the longer you stare at him, panicked tears welling up with nowhere to go. You tip your head forward so he can't see them, and he steps closer in turn, ushering your face into his abdomen.

His hand falls to your trembling back.

"That was your only error. You did everything else right."

Your tears come thick and fast. Hotch doesn't baulk.

—

You agree to take some more time off.

Realistically, you can't be an effective agent or a reliable member of the team whilst smothered in memories as you are. You don't take it personally when Hotch insists, as he takes great care to explain to you what's happening.

This isn't a punishment. You need more time.

You're a safety risk. Not that your consultation isn't valuable, it is, you're still a good profiler — an amazing profiler, if your team are to be believed — but you're in the aftershocks of a traumatic event.

A wound can't heal if it's being picked at.

"He said that?" you ask quietly, bed sheets upto your chin.

Hotch's voice rings scratchy with tiredness down the line, "He said you can have all of the blue ones."

"He's generous. He gets that from his dad."

"He's much kinder than I am." You hear a small voice on the other end, and then a muffled, "Yeah, g-man, I'll tell her. I'll tell her right now. Okay. Y/N?"

"Yeah, still here."

"Jack says," he recounts, parent tone in play that tells you his son is nearby, "that you can have all the blue and all of the green band-aids, if you need them."

You stare up at the white plaster ceiling of your apartment, a tiny smile playing on your lips.

"Tell him I said thank you. I'm sure they'll make me all better in no time."

He tells Jack what you've said. You hear his lovely voice saying something too quiet. "What was that?" Hotch asks him.

"I said," Jack says, voice close to the receiver, "she just needs a kiss because they always make me feel better."

"I've been getting lots of kisses!" you promise him, turning to look at your nightstand.

Propped up proudly is a picture of you and your team in that restaurant in Las Vegas, where Reid hadn't been able to use his chopsticks, and where Hotch had laughed so loudly you'd felt your heart skip twice. It's surrounded by a sea of 'Get Well Soon' cards, and backdropped by a small bouquet of sweetpeas.

Tell me when they wilt, Reid had said. And I'll get you another bunch. It's been proven that flowers have a long term positive effect on moods. People who received flowers regularly reported less agitation, less depression, and an overall sense of satisfaction.

Beside the sweetpeas, in pride of place, is a handmade card from none other than Jack himself, though the message inside was penned by an older hand.

"I'm well looked after," you say, smiling softly.

"You're well loved," Hotch adds.

That, too.

༺༻

again, im not that used to writing hotch so despite my character study he may feel a little ooc that's my bad, hard to show him pining bc he's such a professional at work. thanks so much for reading!! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging i promise it means so much to me ♡

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satocidal · 4 months

Text

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭Destination(!): Middle of Nowhere — Toji Fushiguro

Synopsis: A long drive—a little crush and a hot dilf, not much can wrong- only that you were drunk and he was no less of a bastard.

— Word count: 2.2k

— A/n: Nobody come at me ok? This was meant to be full smut and just a drabble but here I am 💀 and this is like a piece I’m writing after a decent while so stfu ok- as is Toji ain’t my boo

— Warnings: smut!! MDNI!! Toji x Fem! Reader (reader is at least 19); age gap (reader is the age of Megumi and they’re not in college <3); stupidly fucked sense of alcohol consumption and hangover (for the sake of plot); degradation; spanking; idk basic nonsense- exhibitionism; usage of word "daddy" (twice)

“That’s what you fuckin’ like huh?” A sharp slap landed on your ass, whimpers barely contained as you sobbed as his fast-set pace—“Gettin’ fucked at the side of the highway?”

Days spent saving the money so carefully, so long—it had to be a night well spent.

“Gumi’!” You sounded out again, the skirt rested so low on your waist—the top barely holding up too, you grinned as your friend made his way to your car, disgruntled a face.

“Why the long face lover boy?”

Not a word, motioning just his head for you to focus on the body in the periphery—it was similar to your Friend, well, at least by the face of it and some mannerisms.

Megumi’s father after all, was the book definition of what a dilf is—you couldn’t help but giggle at the way the older man flicked off his son—usual banter, you presumed.

“What happened now?”

“I was running late, so I made eggs—he wanted to eat some cereals or whatever,” you chuckled at the annoyance his tone held still—“and he couldn’t have made it himself?”

A deadpan that Megumi passed you, “is it not obvious the only thing he can make is women pregnant left and right.”

Another gaze, yours flickered to his father- shyly looking away immediately when your eyes seemed to catch—he was, in most senses, scary.

But hot—because how else would you explain the sudden flutter of the nerves as your eyes caught sight of Him, pants resting low on his hips—no shirt, fuck was he hot.

Another laugh, unassuming as your car revved away.

The concert was fun, mostly.

Besides the time that you lost sight of Megumi, besides the creeps that you caught along the way, besides getting your drink almost spiked- yeah.

What wasn’t fun, it was simply realising that you did not in fact have a ride to go back anymore. But as it was, absent father or not, he made for a decent chauffeur- because there at 11:30 at night he stood with his car.

“How the fuck do you lose your car keys?” His voice was rushed, Megumi’s—staring daggers at you, you simply chose to giggle, too drunk to register anything properly.

“I lost you at the concert- I think losing is a simple concept,”

A scoff- Megumi could not deal with this anymore.

“Remember when we lost our virginity-? That motel was so shady, and the bitch you were with-” words punctuated with hiccups and giggles, Megumi groaned, ears burning when his dad replied with “Hah?” To your words, apparently having heard everything.

A hand shoved to cover your mouth, Megumi grimaced-“don’t mind her, she’s drunk, I need you to take her home- ours,”

A short silence followed the info, “take her? Where will you be?”

Megumi paused, “I’ll stay off at a friend’s t’night—need you to take her back,”

A scoff—Toji’s, “can’t the brat stay with you too? M’busy,”

“He wants to get railed,” you hollered from behind—warning yourself a gruff smile from Toji, not that you’d care at the moment- “off y’er rockets, both of you,” a mumble Toji passed, then a scoff.

“Alright,” he finally muttered, not without making Megumi beg thrice, compensating the night drive by leaving the apartment alone to his father for three days further, “stay with her while I back the car- don’t lemme catch ya fuckin’ some whore when I get back either,”

“Don’t ya worry Mr. Fushiguro—ain’t gonna let him get STD so fast,”

Another short chuckle, hm, the ride could after all be fun.

“Thanks dad,” Megumi muttered another his breath- fastening your seatbelt, not daring to meet his dad’s eye, all too aware of the smirk on his face.

“The chick’s hot,”

“That’s why I’m leaving with her and not- oh,” Megumi paused mid-statement realising it was you his father was referring to, not the girl he was leaving with, he bit his lip hard.

“Don’t try your shit with her, don’t mess with her,”

A smirk, “how would you know,” Toji shrugged, “I could fuck her roadside and you wouldn’t know,”

A lick of his lips, “which is why I’m asking you to simply not do it,”

Flick of his head, “I’ll do what I want,”

Megumi watched as his father’s gaze lingered upon your form, it was simply too easy- especially the way Toji’s eyes held a hungry look.

And just like that, you—half passed out, beside Toji swerved away, Megumi would’ve perhaps minded a little more, had the girl beside him not been actively trying to kiss his face off- not that he minded.

Ps. One thing about Toji, he did do what he wanted after all.

The ride back home was smoother, partially because you were almost passed out, and there was no traffic to hinder your way either—and yet, hours it took the both of you to reach.

After all, there were stops made continuously, here and there- “ya hungry?” You muttered suddenly, 15 minutes into the ride, the silence all so overbearing—a mindless “huh?” Toji passed, a mere snicker you offered “hungry? I am,”

Toji stared blankly at the road—he wasn’t sure, a small smirk made its over still, “you don’t typically talk so much,” and true he was of course—but that was mostly because Toji always shivered your timbers, which rarely mattered when you were as drunk as you were.

“I’m typically never this hungry either,” a gruff scoff he passed, “Gumi’ didn’t feed ya or what?”

A silence you let pass over the two of you- he sighed taking the worse of the cases, “whatever I’ve got me some cash, sure, whatcha’ wanna eat?”

“Whatever pops up on the road first,”

A smirk, Toji looked over the convenience store that seemed to be approaching—“I like decisive girls like you,”

A giggle you passed, so drunk, “wanna know a decision I’ve made?”

A cocked brow met your gaze as Toji pulled the car over the side of the road—“you’re one man I wanna fuck,”

A cough and a widened set of eyes fretted Toji before the smirk could even wipe you across the floor, a short silence met you- sober you would’ve already climbed over the lay on the road ready to be run over, the sheer embarrassment.

A small chuckle the older man offered, “y’er not so bold usually eh?”

“You’re scary,” your voice came out as half a whine,

“eh? And I’m not scary right now?”

A giggle again—“you’re much more fuckable right now, especially with how you were in the morning- been on my mind since,”

Oh?

Oh.

The vision of himself in just a vest and grey sweat-pants, understandable, he shrugged—“gotta be honest doll, you look way more slutty than I did,”

An amused smile he held as you giggled again—“yeaaaah?” Your words dragged, “S’pretty skirt ain’t it? Gumi’ thought it was too short,” a small pout that you held with end of the statement.

A snort Toji passed—“Gumi? An idiot, a doll like you deserved to flaunt that ass in as short of a skirt you like, don’t ya?”

Your head bobbed in compliance, slowing only when his hand came to rest way too high on the plush of your thighs—it felt hot.

Hot in the way it seemed to creep up your skirt, hot in the way the hem of your skirt tickled you—hot in the way his gaze held yours, hot in the way Toji knew exactly what he was doing.

A lick of your lips, a lean in from him, a lean in yours—“you were hungry, yea?”

And just like that, Toji did exactly as he pleased.

Toji stared, jaw stacked as his eyes remained stuck on your form, bent over—legs spread, all just to tease him while you pretended to be confused about flavour sandwiched you wanted to grab.

A hum entered his ears, you bent over further—your panties, the fishnets all on display —“I don’t like the mayo they used in this,” a whine as you wiggled your ass, his eye twitched.

A step forward, he stood directly behind you, crotch pressed to your ass, a hand on your back which kept you in position—“and I don’t like the way you’re acting,”

The store was empty, you smirked—grinding back into him, “you seemed to like how I was back in—”

-slap!

A sharp inhale, yours, a sting that you could feel building up on your ass—“hey! What are you-”

-another harsh slap fell on the same spot, the fat of your ass squeezed suddenly, “what do you think y’er doing?” Almost a growl—the store was empty, he was using it to his advantage.

A smile rested on your lips—“trying to decide on what I wanted to eat but…” despite the dull warmth you’d just felt you grind into him yet again—your intentions were clear, all too drunk to even care about being humped in the middle of a convenience store—as you seemed to be at the moment.

Toji realised all of this— in the sound of your gasp as he pulled at your hair roughly, back arching as he brought you close enough to his mouth as he leaned down himself—you could feel his hardening dick pushing against your ass—“but what?”

A smile, almost innocent that you flashed, “I don’t think I’m hungry anymore…” a bite of your lip—then another hitch as you felt him spank you yet again, all too done with you.

The heat radiated through your body, “you think it’s funny huh? Grinding’ into me like a whore?”

A moan escaped you, his fingers roughly pushing at your clothed pussy, skirt hiked up- your face heated up at thought of someone walking in—fingers feeling around your wetness as it spread, “wearing such a fuckin’ short skirt—I can practically see your slutty pussy when you bend,” another sharp slap, you whined at the absence of his fingers from your cunt.

“Ofc Gumi’ let ya go—such a whore, poor boy had to take care of you huh? But that’s ok—daddy’s better than him at dealing with bratty ones like you,”

Shameless, in the way you moaned—not caring about the store manager who was probably watching through the store camera—you smirked.

“Yeah?” You grinned up at him, “what’ll you do hm? What does “daddy” do?”

A hard stare he passed, suddenly pulling away from you entirely, let alone for the hand that grasped your hair, “think I prefer you better when you’re quiet and crushin’ on me,”

A mischievous smile that you held—“you should gag me then,” he couldn’t help but roll his eyes, and smile at your words—you were adorable, he wouldn’t deny that—he pulled you away from the shop slowly, back to the car, not without winking at the guy working at the store—all too aware of the breathy moans he’d let out stroking himself, watching the two of you too.

As for gagging you, Toji would.

Fifteen minutes the both of you rode in silence—sheer fear that his words had held, “not a peep,” he’d whispered as he closed the door for you, a hard glare followed as the engine was turned on.

Fifteen minutes gone by, you were wet—turned on simply by the silly ministrations in the store, your cunt was practically begging to be touched.

But ah—for someone too afraid to even breath loudly at the moment, to touch yourself seemed off the plate, but the thought may enticing nonetheless.

“Feelin’ horny?” His voice rasped—and oh boy, you were—“same,” a short smirk has evident in his voice, “no touching or sounds till you’re at home though,”

And quite Instantly and regrettably, “Please…” you whispered, hand reaching over to stroke his thigh once —just as quick the car was pulled aside, Toji’s face remained blank.

“Get out,” he murmured, breaking the moment of silence—his gaze was hard, “huh?” Was all you could manage, “ya heard me doll, out. Out and your hands on the hood,”

And as if on a spell, there you were- bent over, it was chilly, pleasantly so—waiting all so impatiently, squirming, he sat in his seat, light shining all upon you- his star of the night.

Slow, taking forever it seemed, that he stood up- walked off, you dared not to move, staring in the little awkward position that he held you in, as he stretched in his leisure.

He didn't seem to come close, not once- or at all, not a single word —“Mr. Fushiguro…please?”

A smirk- fast spread to a grin- “shy again? We gettin’ sobered up? Not so quick doll,” and yet, with all his teasing words, not a single step taken to help- you squirmed, ass sticking out, it was tempting but Toji was a man of will power.

“Please,” you muttered meaninglessly- and the moment continued for a decent two minutes- nothing made sense, you knew he was merely teasing- but oh how the riddle onto whatever that would make him crack was unrelenting.

And perhaps, when he couldn’t take it further, “what’s my name?”

A hesitant, “Mr. Fushiguro,” you dropped off yours lips- he smirked, a step closer- your panties, soiled already we’re almost dripping now and you were sure no piece of groundbreaking porn would ever get you this worked up again- “No. What is my name?”

And as if a light bulb got switched on- “Toji,” you whispered- he was finally close enough though, close enough with his hands on your tits, roughly squeezing and slapping them, “what was that?”

You purred softly, the way his hands pushed your spine, arching your back further- fingers brushing against your hip, “Toji,” his name rolled off your tongue again, louder- he snickered.

“That’s the name you’ll be screaming alright? Why will you scream it doll?”

And yet again, all logic flew off you as you felt his hard-on press onto your ass, “because I’m a slut who deserves to be fucked shamelessly on a highway,”

A final cackle that Toji held- a slap to your face, soft- “such a good fuckin’ whore.”

All of this work is original and entirely my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

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imagine-knowing-a-name · 8 months

Text

déjà vu

Summary: After Age of Ultron, the team are left with the decision of what to do with Wanda, and they’re not in agreement. Natasha becomes staunchly defensive of the witch, remembering her own fate at SHIELD was decided in a similar manner.

(Summaries are tricky but Nat defends Wanda, R defends Nat, then they comfort each other at the end)

Word Count: 1188

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff & Reader; Wanda Maximoff & Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Half the team are being mean to Wanda and Natasha gets sad :(

A/N: Based on this request. Thank you all for the awesome response to my last fic, it gave me the motivation to write despite everything else going on rn, so thank you and reminder to reblog and comment on fics if you can, because that’s what keeps writers posting their fics on here :) Enjoy!

»»————-　★　————-««

"We cannot let her waltz around scot-free without any repentance for her crimes!"

"She just lost her homeland and her twin brother; you don't think that's enough punishment?"

"She's HYDRA. She volunteered. She is everything we've been fighting against and you want us to, what? take her under our wing? make her even stronger than she already is?"

"Yes! That's the kind of power we want on our side-"

To nobody's surprise, Steve and Tony are at odds, driving the argument. Thor had backed Steve with the insight that second chances had done his brother a world of good. But everyone remembers the Battle of New York, and soon even Steve is wishing the God of Thunder would rescind his support. Bruce agrees with Tony, still racked with guilt over the Johannesburg incident. Then Clint voices his support for Steve, upon a conditional level of trust, to return the sides to an imbalance.

Sam and Rhodey use their newcomer status to remove their ballot from the decision; the two of them sneaking off, likely to do better things with their time.

The argument continues, never ceasing for breaths since everyone talks over each other, constantly interrupting the previous point. You grimace from your place in the corner; sitting, observing, and waiting for them to tire themselves out before you say your piece. Natasha meets your eye. She is doing the same.

"She's a child!" Steve continues

"She's going on 26! Steve you were Captain America by that age, I was the most famous CEO in the world! We weren't let off the hook for anything, were we? We weren't told we were 'just kids so it's all okay'. I paid for my mistakes, same as you did, and this glowing ball in my chest is proof of that."

"That's enough," Natasha finally speaks. Her voice is all it takes to bring the group to silence. "She's a victim. She was manipulated into her actions and she came around as soon as she realised that. We've all made mistakes, and joining the Avengers was our chance at redemption; let her have that."

"Her actions are her own, and I'm sorry, but they're too severe to wave off as a mistake, or ignorance"

"Is that the same with me?"

"What?"

"See, I was a victim too, but no one ever treated me like one."

"Nat-"

"No. Nobody was controlling me when I went through the Red Room; my actions were all my own, same as Wanda. But when your childhood is defined by manipulation and indoctrination, how much does that matter? I did the only thing I knew how to do and followed orders, same as Wanda, and I lost people along the way, same as Wanda. Have you even spoken to her, Tony? She's known since the age of 10 that your missile killed her parents, and HYDRA took advantage of that; you think you'd keep a levelhead if you found someone responsible for your parents' deaths?

So no. I spent too long thinking my transgressions were all my own, and I won't stand here and let Wanda believe the same."

Natasha strides out of the door with purpose and speed, while all eyes in the room track her movements in silence. It is only when the door slams that the team begins to break from their stupor.

You look around unsurely, meeting everyone's eyes as if to confirm its truth. You are the first to break the silence. "I'm going after her." Nobody contests.

You don't rush, you know where Natasha is after all and you know she needs time alone, but you also know to check up on her after an argument like that. You were there when Clint brought her back to SHIELD, when Fury and the archer broke into arguments echoingly similar to the one the team just had. You remember how much she struggled from her own mind, how they left her in a cell, just as the Avengers now have to Wanda, and you remember the thin walls, where Natasha could overhear all their arguments regardless of how you tried to distract her.

It isn't a surprise to you when you open Natasha's door and she refuses to speak. She watches you enter and makes space for you to sit beside her on the bed, but she doesn't speak. You talk to her for a bit, praising her stance, but it's clear she needs longer alone.

"I'll be here when you need," you say. She nods. You walk back to where you're needed most, passing through the common room still full of arguing Avengers on your way.

"Stop thinking about yourselves for once, and think about your fucking team," you say without even stopping to look at them, then you continue your path out of the room.

»»————-　★　————-««

Guilt sets in on the remaining Avengers as they fall to silence yet again. Clint reminds them what Natasha went through and from that memory, Natasha's hasty exit, and your outburst after seeing the assassin, they can all conclude how much the topic has hurt their teammate.

Clint apologies through her bedroom door; the others say sorry to her face once she lets them in. Natasha sighs, then nods her acceptance of their apologies. "The person you really should be saying this to is Wanda. She deserves support, not solitary isolation."

"Yeah, I don't think it's all that solitary," Tony says. He flicks his wrist to the wall, and soon enough FRIDAY is displaying a feed of Wanda's cell.

"Is that Y/N?" Steve asks, squinting for a better look.

Meanwhile, Natasha smiles, recognising the scene in front of her and knowing, with certainty, that it was you. She watches you and Wanda sit cross-legged on the floor with a plastic yellow board coming up between you. You both analyse it closely until you pull a circular blue chip from your hand and slide it in.

"That's four!" you cheer. Pointing out the four circles you had managed to connect. Wanda frowns, but you can tell it is not akin to the sorrow she had felt so often recently. At this moment, her mind is distracted entirely from that and focused only on the game.

"We have to play again. I can win this, I know," the Sokovian frowns. "I get first move."

You're still dividing the 'connect 4' pieces into their respective colours when a knock sounds on the cell door. You look up as Natasha opens the door, greeting Wanda with a smile.

"You doing okay?" you ask.

Natasha nods. "Thank you for being here, Y/N. And as for Wanda-" she switches her gaze- "we've got a room prepared for you if you're willing to stay. You can learn to control your powers; the team agreed I can train you."

"I would like that," Wanda mumbles, her nerves around the assassin still clear.

"Come on then, I'll take you to your room.” Natasha smiles and escorts her out, but before falling out of your earshot, she leans into Wanda conspiratorially, “I’ll even give you the secret to beating Y/N at that game.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff & reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff & reader #marvel #mcu #fanfiction #ikan writes

422 notes · View notes

trulyhblue · 3 months

Note

If you write for her, I will not be opposed to a Kerstin Casparij one because I have the biggest fattest crush on her. Maybe a fan keeps showing up in the fanzone (an area of the Joie stadium where a selected few are allowed to meet the players, but it's random each time and should make it so its different every time so everyone gets a go.) And nobody knows why she's there or how she keeps getting chosen but the players find it funny and make sure to get round to her every time. But Kerstin always spends a particularly long amount of time with her, until it's revealed that she's pulling strings and getting the girl in every time just so she can see her. (You can either do it where she does it because she likes her or because they're dating, it works with both and I'm not sure which one I want more.)

Charmer

Kerstin Casparji x Reader, Lauren Hemp x Platonic! Reader, Esme Morgan x Platonic! Reader, Man City WT x Reader.

Warnings: fluff, coarse language, established secret relationship

A/N — Thank you for this request!! Love it so much. Will definitely write more for Kerstin if anyone is willing to send in some requests!!!!!

__________________

You had met Kerstin in a bakery down the road from your house. When you first saw each other, the woman nearly tripped over her own feet. You were surprised by the shock on her face like she was starstruck by being in a metre of your presence. You gave her a friendly smile, hoping your open ambiguity would keep things humble.

It was during your final exams, the ones where you needed to pass so that you could continue your degree. You were very passionate about what you did, and sitting down in a quiet coffee shop with your headphones on and books open was your idea of being productive.

Kerstin, on the other hand, had the impression that you didn't want to talk to her.

Which, well, to be honest, you were in the middle of studying, but you gave no clear indication of what she thought you were thinking.

Instead of going about her day — she should've been at training twelve minutes ago, but it was only media day so they could wait — she slowly sauntered closer to where you sat, pretending to be interested in the decorative flowers that embellished the cafe. You watched her out of the corner of your eye, smiling at her piss-poor attempt in remaining discreet.

You were dressed in very basic clothing, similar to hers save for the Manchester symbol embedded on her jumper. Only one ear was covered by your headphones, meaning that Kerstin would be heard loud and clear if she plucked up the courage to speak to you — which she was trying to do now. She thought you were the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen, and she was surrounded by women almost every single day of her life. You looked extremely immersed in what you were doing, which should of been an indicator of apathy but it only lured Kerstin in more.

She wanted to know everything about you. Your name, you favourite colour, what you did, what you loved, who you loved—

It sounded a bit creepy, so she shook off her thoughts and focused deeply on the flowers. The woman was staring at her screen distantly, aimlessly typing away on the keyboard with a mug by her side.

When she realised you had caught her staring, she buried and swallowed down her pride. “They are nice flowers, don't you think?” She asked, her cheeks burning a vibrant red as if she had just run a marathon. You noticed her accent, one that wasn't accustomed to Manchester, and nodded like you cared about the topic.

“Yes, but I think they are fake.” You replied, smiling wider as the woman’s flustered state only grew in size when she caught sight of the very fake-looking plants.

“Oh.” She gulped, shoving her hands into her pockets. She's so stupid, she thought to herself, she’d blown her chance of even talking to this gorgeous stranger by talking about some stupid, fake plants.

You wondered whether the woman would continue the conversation she started, but the silence that followed was a pretty good indicator that she was audibly stumped on what to say.

“They are pretty, though.”

“Like you,” Kerstin spoke without thinking and instantly regretted it. She slapped her hand across her mouth, nearly walking out of the coffee shop, packing her bags and moving back to the Netherlands. “Fuck, sorry. That just— erm, came out. Sorry.”

You took off your headphones, pretending to act offended, raising your eyebrows and sighing. “You don't mean it?”

“What— no, no, you are so pretty. Like, beautiful, gorgeous. That's why I'm here. Well— yeah, I saw and thought you were pretty. I didn't mean it like that. You're probably smart, too, but— erm, yeah.”

The look of remorse almost made you feel bad, but your amusement — and somewhat endearment — overturned your hesitancy.

Instead, you laughed, took a sip of your drink and smiled, hoping it would calm the woman’s nerves.

“You worry too much.” You said, moving across the booth you were sitting on, offering the space beside you for her to sit down. She did so without delay. “I'm not someone you should waste your worry on.”

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” Kerstin answered wholeheartedly, pleased when she noticed the blush that dusted your cheeks. “I would rather worry about you than anything else for the rest of my life.”

You laughed, crossing your arms over your chest. “You don't even know me.”

With a push of confidence, Kerstin wrapped an arm over the back of the booth, scarcely missing your shoulder. “If you’d let me, I’d like to.”

“Charmer.”

It was from there that you and Kristen started to hang out.

Seven months had passed, and you were now completely and utterly in love with the woman. Kerstin was an externally affectionate person despite her introverted persona. She loved showering you with compliments, giving you everything you needed at exactly the right time with just the right amount of love and devotion.

You found out she was a football player pretty early on in your relationship due to the tight and busy schedule the girl had, including her diet, exercise, and all of that. You weren't a massive football fan, but going to your first game a week into knowing Kerstin made it seem to find a way into your heart.

Your girlfriend wasn't the only one to give compliments. You had your fair share in making sure the Dutch woman knew how much you were enamoured with everything she did. It took you a while to get used to her career and the publicity that came with it, but you found pleasure in knowing that once you got back to your shared apartment you could tell and show her just how much she made you feel so so proud.

It was in mutual agreeance that you both wanted to keep your relationship under wraps. Your feelings for one another and how you cared for each other were one of the highest concerns in your relationship, and by keeping your love between yourselves, you've found that it worked better overall. You didn't want to indulge in a media presence, and Kerstin respected that.

Kerstin was fine with putting herself out onto social media, but when it came to you, she wanted to make sure you were comfortable at all times.

Because of this, you both came to the decision that at games, you wouldn't sit within the family and friends section, and instead, in the crowd with the fans.

You were among the group of fans that were guaranteed to meet the players after the match, whether it be cause they paid more or if they were chosen randomly by officials. For many weeks, people just assumed that they were lucky or could just afford to pay the extra money to be seated in the same section. Both you and Kerstin found it amusing when fans would wonder why you were always the first one to be greeted, or why you knew her.

After a month of this recurring theme, some of Kerstin’s teammates started to notice.

Surprisingly, Lauren, who wasn't the most observant, caught sight of it first.

“Do you know her?” She asked Kerstin after a game against Everton, watching the Dutchie make eye contact with you from where they were signing shirts.

Kerstin looked at Hempo, a blush running across the bridge of her nose.

Shrugging, she thanked the last fan, handing back the pen. “She's a friend of mine.”

Lauren’s eyebrows furrowed. “Then why isn't she in the friends and family section?”

When Kerstin didn't instantly reply, silenced by the prodding questions she was receiving, a distant idea clicked in Lauren’s mind.

“She's your girlfriend?” She sounded, obviously a little too loudly since the Dutch international nudged her warningly.

“Alright, nosey, keep your voice down.” She snapped, pulling the girl away from the crowd. “You can't tell anyone, alright. It's still pretty new.”

Lauren’s eyes widened in alarm, not exactly thrilled with the commitment of keeping a secret. “Does Jill know?”

“Why would Jill know?”

“I don't know, I didn't think I’d be the first person to find out,” Hempo replied, looking back at you. “Can I tell someone?”

Kerstin’s eyebrows furrowed. “I just said you can't.”

“Yes, I know, but I'm terrible at keeping secrets,” Lauren whined. “Please, let me tell Jill, at least.”

“No, because Jill will tell Viv and Viv will tell Beth, and Beth will tell literally everyone.” She quipped, only half-heartedly digging at the Arsenal girls. She watched Hemp sigh like a child, looking down as if the burden of her knowing was too much. “You can tell Esme but that's it.”

That was how the first people found out about you and Kerstin. When she told you that night, you weren't necessarily fazed. It was bound to come out at some point, and you’d rather Kerstin’s teammates find out from her than the internet.

Unfortunately, though, the rest of the girls weren't afforded the same luxury as Esme and Lauren.

All of the girls at Man City couldn't believe their eyes when they found out Kerstin was in love.

Well, to be fair, they weren't quite certain this was true. Lauren and Esme saw it first at the next game against West Ham, watching their teammate smile cheekily at the girl in the stands when she should've been stretching.

Sandy mentioned the Dutch International’s love-sick countenance to some of their teammates over lunch a few weeks later, promoting Hempo and Es to spill their not-so-long-kept confession.

None of the girls knew who Kerstin was talking to — or even if their suspicions were acclimated, but Sandy, Esme, and Lauren all made it their mission to keep their lips closed.

Sandy was the one to come up with the pact, yet the demanding eyes of Roebuck after an endurance training session set her tongue loose.

Lauren wasn't at all happy. Esme ended up spilling the secret to Mary as well, meaning the secret was already spreading across the team.

Meanwhile, fans were growing more and more suspicious of you and how you managed to steal the attention of Kerstin after each and every game.

The media surrounding you two got so big that Kerstin’s national teammate Viv called her one day asking what was going on.

Kerstin knew Lauren and Esme had told at least half the team by then, including Jill, who had run up to you after a game and pretended to flirt with you just to annoy her teammate. Viv was quick to point out that if she wanted to keep your relationship private, putting you in the midst of cameras and media attention wasn't the most suitable option.

You ended up deciding that if you were to stay in the crowd, both of you needed to be willing to make your relationship more public.

It had been seven months of concealing your obvious love for one another. Pretty much the whole team knew about you, and it only took fans a quick video of the two of you looking at each other to piece the clues together. You were both mature enough to keep your private lives private and social lives up to your discretion.

You made the decision to share very minimal parts of your lives together without spelling it out. This meant that you could hug your girlfriend for that little while longer in front of everyone. You could kiss her and not look around to see if anyone was looking. You could tell yourself that Kerstin was yours and you were hers.

But you didn't need public knowledge to make you feel loved by her.

__________________________

kerstincasparji

kerstincasparji — bit of a charmer ✨

Comments:

user11 — UM THE SOFT LAUNCH ARE YOU KIDDING???

viviannemiedema — ❤️

laurenhemp — love that bakery

*liked by kerstincasparji and yourusername

esmemorgan — busy girls

^ wosofan — SHE KNOWS

maryfowler — 🐐

user23 — is she dating the fan??

^ manchestergirl — if you mean the girl in the stand then yeah I think so

^ user2 — “THE girl IN THE STANDS” AHAHAHHAA

jillroord — ew cooties

^ viviannemiedema — shush

^ jillroord — no 😍

user7 — why does she sit in the stands and not in the family and friends section

^ laurenhemp — that's what I said 🫢

yourusername — charmer, huh?

^ kerstincasparji — idk, some pretty girl called me it

^ yourusername — didn't you call her beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, talented, incredible, out of this world

^ kerstincaslarji — she likes to think so.

^ user12 — IS THIS HER??????

^ arsenalwosoxx — THEY HIT THE PENTAGON

________________________

347 notes · View notes

jaegeraether · 4 months

Text

Sunsets and footballers (Part 39)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (36) & Alexia Putellas x Character (7)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Lucy and Alexia were back in their moods. It was almost midday at the airport and they were sat with the group, though with headphones on and dissociating. Lucy was frowning at her phone, presumably texting her girlfriend while Alexia was staring into the distance with a resting face so terrifying that nobody dared approach the pair. Lucy had picked Alexia up last night and the pair had ended up talking in Lucy’s car out the front of Alexia’s house for a while. It had become a cathartic release for them to open up to each other rather than bottle it in. Alexia tried to help Lucy find solutions to flights, though there weren’t any, she’d already exhausted all of those avenues. Lucy had shown disbelief and almost shock towards what Alexia had experienced with her ‘crush’. They were both in similar boat, though Alexia knew Lucy’s was better as she actually had the girl already. Alexia had hoped after last night that she would be turned off of Ridley, but she wasn’t. That next morning the thoughts of her were still there and as she stared into the distance at the airport, she realised that longing feeling was also. She remembered the feel of Ridley’s fingers, as if she already knew her body better than herself. The heat of her body against her back. The whisper of breath in her ear. She’d also noticed scars on her torso that she hadn’t noticed before, as she wasn’t usually half naked. She wondered at those before her mind went to what she’d said to her.

‘I come here to see you.’ Ridley frequented that bar just to see Alexia? Was she just saying that to get her to lower her guard?

‘I don’t think of you like that, Alexia.’ She thought about her as something other than one of her fucks?

‘I don’t know how to give you anything else.’ That one had sounded incredibly genuine, but what did it mean? Was it related to her scars? Had something happened to her?

Lucy nudged Alexia then, breaking her from her trance. She looked at her as she gestured to the boarding gate.

They boarded the plane and for the first time ever, Alexia and Lucy sat next to each other up the front. Neither of them made a big deal about it, and the rest of the team seemed to also have accepted that the two had become quite close now.

Alexia sighed as she looked out the window.

“If you keep thinking that hard, you’ll have a stroke.” Lucy said from next to her.

“You know what I think about, Lucia. I know you can’t judge me.” There’s that broken English again. It got lazier the more distracted she was, and also had become lazier when she lost her care about making mistakes in front of Lucy.

“You’re going back there, aren't you?”

“I’m not sure yet…” She turned to look at Lucy. “But I know I have to go back for my jacket.”

Lucy knew it was an excuse, but she also knew it was Alexia’s favourite jacket that she’d left behind in the room and as she’d described it, she’d left quite hastily.

“For the jacket…mmnhmn.” Lucy responded sceptically.

Alexia didn’t even bother to roll her eyes at her. Instead, she let the guilty look sit openly on her face. She had no reason to hide it from Lucy, she already knew everything and if anything, she was finally comfortable enough with Lucy now to be comforted by her.

YFN was upset. It was Saturday now, Lucy’s game day. The storm had gotten slightly better, though there were still no passenger liner flights. She looked at the flights out and became frustrated as she realised other private planes and such were still flying. It was just coming up on 11am which meant it was midday in Barca and Lucy was already waiting for her flight to game. YFN looked down at the selfie she’d sent from the terminal. She was smiling but the happiness didn’t quite reach her eyes.

YFN: Your eyes aren’t smiling. Try again, please.

She knew it was cheeky, but she needed a bit of cheekiness if she had any chance of cheering Lucy up. She looked at her phone at the tickets to the game that Lucy had sent her. She’d sent two as each player was usually given a minimum of two. She felt her lips tremble as tears slid down her face looking at those tickets.

Another message from Lucy came through.

Lucy: This is the best I can do right now, little one.

She’d sent a selfie with it. She still looked a little sad, but her smile was wider as she snapped a selfie of herself and Alexia on the plane. They were sitting next to each other which wasn’t a surprise to her; Lucy had told her how close they’d gotten. Alexia was smiling at the phone, her teeth on show, though it also didn’t quite reach her eyes. The two most influential players in the Barcelona roster, both going into a game with hurting hearts.

Lucy and YFN had a long conversation the night before, after they realised there was no chance of a flight and were back in bed. Lucy had told YFN all about Alexia’s mystery woman and what had occurred. She’d also been shocked, though she didn’t misunderstand the woman as much as Lucy had. From what happened, it sounded like she was a little broken and it made her wonder what had happened in her life to make her that way. YFN was always genuinely interested about people, their true motives and what made them tick. This mystery woman was no exception to that. Lucy had been vocal about her worry, though YFN had eased that by letting her know that if it was Alexia of all people she was interested in, then that says a lot about her true self. Alexia was so unapologetically herself. She was a strong, outspoken leader, yet with a soft side that she held close to her. Not dissimilar to Lucy. She didn’t believe Alexia could be manipulated easily, and she didn’t believe the mystery woman was trying to take advantage of her. If she’d been doing that, she would have disappeared so often. It sounded to her as if she was trying to put some distance between her and her feelings for the Barcelona Captain.

When she’d explained all of that, Lucy took it all in and understood it a little better. That protective side softened a bit, though it was still present.

YFN: You’re beautiful. I love

YFN stopped typing. Was she about to say she loved her? She’d caught herself the night before on the phone also. She shook her head and backspaced the message, typing it out again before pressing send.

YFN: You’re beautiful, Luce. I’m so lucky. Please have a safe flight and a good game…. And can you do me a favour? No cards tonight please. You or Alexia. Message me after. x

YFN left the message like that, knowing that Lucy needed her space before the game, as much as she didn’t want to admit it. Usually it was okay but at the moment YFN knew that texts from her were upsetting her and wouldn’t help her getting into her game mindset.

YFN looked back at her phone for flights. The game started in four and a half hours. The flight to Barcelona was two hours. For some reason, she still had hope, even though she knew she’d have just over a three hour drive to Villareal even if she managed to get a flight. She looked back at the private flights taking off and shook her head in annoyance.

Suddenly, a thought came to her head. Why hadn’t she thought of it before?! She scrolled through her contacts and found the one she wanted, calling it.

As reliable as ever, she answered.

“Hey baby Blue, what’s doing?” Ridley asked. YFN didn’t realise how much she missed her voice.

“Hey Riddles, how are you?”

She sighed.

“That bad?”

“Mmn. I made a mistake.”

That surprised YFN. Ridley rarely made mistakes, though she’d always own up to them.

“At work?”

“Of course not. I’m the best at my job, you know that.”

“I know, I know. Is it a skip school kind of day?”

“It’s a ‘might stick a fork in an outlet and call it a day’ kind of day.”

“Ouch, that sounds bad Riddles.”

“I’ll be fine. I was hoping to see you though. You always know how to make me feel better.”

“You flatter me.”

“Are you in Spain yet? I’ve been waiting for your call. I miss you.”

“I miss you too. My flight was cancelled.”

“Ah, of course it was. I was hoping you’d gotten in before all of that. Aren’t you missing the game?”

“The game is at 4:30pm in Villareal.”

“Cute little city.” She must have looked at the time then. “It’s late. I’m surprised you left it this long to call me.”

“I know, I forgot. I was too busy-”

“-crying?” She chuckled.

YFN groaned audibly through the phone. Ridley knew her too well. Ridley switched to facetime then so she could see her face that was still puffy and red. YFN would have usually declined the facetime or been embarrassed, but she was neither of those things, because this was Ridley.

She gave her a soft smile when she saw her face “Do me a favour? Never change, Blue.”

“I can see your nipples through your shirt.”

“First of all, stop being ungrateful. Secondly…I have a solution to your problem.”

YFN laughed at the first thing and immediately stopped at the second. “What?”

“I’m just looking now and we have a cargo flight from Birmingham to Valencia at 12:30pm your time. It’s been delayed due to customs.” She scoffed as YFN saw her playing on her laptop. “Typical of them. It’s usually a two-and-a-half-hour flight so you’d arrive in Valencia at 4pm their time.”

YFN started to Google and Ridley answered her question before she’d even finished typing it. “Valencia is a city south of Villareal. It’s an hour’s drive to the stadium.”

An hour? So she could potentially be there by 5pm which would be just before half-time. YFN could feel her body shaking with excitement and she began to Google care hire from Valencia. Ridley answered this before she’d fully typed it out also.

“I can drive you.”

YFN paused and looked at her oldest friend. “You’re in Villareal?”

“No, but I can be.” She stated simply. “Do you know if the game is sold out?”

“I have a spare ticket,” she almost whispered in disbelief. How was everything working out so perfectly?

“That good karma is catching up to me.”

“But the drive is so long…”

Ridley shrugged and YFN wondered if she had an alternate motive. “It’s four hours from Barca to Valencia. I can leave now and I’ll make it on time.” She didn’t seem rushed at all. Typical Ridley.

“O…okay.”

“Okay? You’re in?”

“I’m in!”

“Okay, I’m going to make a few phones calls to get you on that flight. It’s cargo so there’s little human customs to worry about, they just care about the cargo itself. I’ll send you through the details and see you soon, baby Blue.” She grinned through the phone and YFN was suddenly even more excited to see her friend. “Do me a favour?”

“Anything Riddles.”

“Next time, don’t wait so long to call me, yeah? You know I’ve got you. Whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

“I know, and I promise. I love you and can’t wait to see your face.”

She gave a look. “I do have a pretty face. My therapist told me so.”

YFN rolled her eyes. “Is this the therapist you slept with?”

“Yes, but in my defence, she started it. I have a new one anyways. She says I use humour to deflect serious trauma.”

“I thought we already knew this?”

“Yes, but she also mentioned that it wasn’t a good thing. All I heard was that she thinks I’m funny. She should be paying me for our sessions.”

“Oh my god, Riddles, I’m hanging up.”

She chuckled. “See you soon. Don’t forget your passport.”

“And?”

“And I love you too.”

She noticed then that it felt so different to say ‘I love you’ to her friends like Ridley and Jordan, and then wondered why it was so much harder with Lucy. Perhaps because it had so much meaning to it. Regardless, she felt like she might end up blurting it out in Spain.

Her finger hovered above Lucy’s name in her messages but she didn’t click it. She already had the tickets to the game. She didn’t want to distract her but more importantly, she wanted to see the look on her face when she saw her.

She checked over her little suitcase again, making sure she had everything she needed including her passport and her Australian flag. She didn’t have a Barca jersey, Lucy was going to give her one before the game. That wasn’t important though, what was important was the fact that in a few hours, she’d be with Lucy. She shook with excitement.

Her phone buzzed and she looked at the message from Ridley with the time, address, and the person she was meeting to get her through the private customs and into the aircraft.

Four hours later, YFN had touched down in Valencia. The pilots had been lovely and let her ride jump seat for the flight as it was just the three of them. They’d shaken hands and gave her well wishes for the game.

The ‘customs’ when she exited the plane was one woman who checked her passport and Visa, giving her a satisfied nod and a welcome in Spanish. Ridley was close by, having driven right up to the plane as if it were a private jet. She was leaning up against her car, sunglasses on and looking as stylish as ever in a leather jacket and jeans. YFN dropped her suitcase and ran to her, jumping on her like a koala. Ridley chuckled as she squeezed her tight.

“God, I missed you Blue.”

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her in person. Ridley had moved to Spain several years ago and since then, they’d only met up once in Australia so Ridley could see Nan and her brother. They were basically her family.

“You smell the same.”

She chuckled again and walked over to grab her bags as if YFN weighed nothing. She was one of the rare people who she allowed to be physically affectionate with her, because it was YFN and she was the closest thing she had to family. Ridley managed to get her suitcase and bag into the car one handed as her other hand held an emotional YFN to her. She knew she’d get emotional, she had always been the more empathetic one of the pair.

“Okay, Blue. In we get.” She lowered her into the passenger seat and sat on the edge as YFN wiped the tears from her eyes.

“I’m s…sorry.” She said weakly.

“I expected nothing less, Blue.”

“We missed you last Christmas.”

Ridley felt her heart sink a little. It was becoming a bad habit of hers to distance herself from emotion and being around YFN and her family tended to bring those out of her. Along with memories. Good…and bad. It wasn’t until her new and terrifying infatuation that she still hadn’t accepted, that she’d felt a need to see YFN in person, regardless of how much it would make her feel.

“How about I make it up by coming this Christmas?”

YFN nodded and then spoke huskily with emotion. “We’d really like that.”

“Yeah? Hot Aussie Christmas.”

“Actually, I was thinking of bringing them over to the UK this year…Lucy wants them to see a game and she even offered to pay for their flights and everything. I wasn’t going to let her pay, of course, but don’t tell her that.”

Ridley gave her a look. “Or I can handle it…” YFN opened her mouth to argue and Ridley spoke before she could. “Besides, I really doubt you could stop Lucy from paying for them and organising everything. She seems very…persistent?”

“Stubborn?”

“That also. Speaking of, should we go surprise your girl?”

“Yes please.”

Ridley reached out unexpectedly and touched her scar gently with a frown.

“We match now.”

The car ride was all-round fun. They spoke of their jobs, their European experiences, all of the things they’d missed in each other’s lives. It was always so relaxed with the two of them. Like family but without the drama of arguing or pranking. Ridley seemed the exact same to YFN, the only exception being that she seemed a little more…emotional? She couldn’t quite place her finger on it, but whatever it was, it wasn’t a bad thing at all, though she feared it may unravel her a bit over time.

They arrived just after 5pm and found their seats, Ridley insisting on popcorn on the way through. They settled in and YFN felt tingly and excited as she spotted Lucy on the ground. Their seats were right up against the tall boundary fence where the players entered, and luckily enough, Lucy was playing on this side of the ground and looked so goddamned sexy in their away colours. It was a simple white shirt with blue shorts, though she had white thermals on under it also. Cold Lucy. She always loved her sun.

They had arrived at the 35 minute mark during play, Barca were up 2-0. Lucy looked great, and YFN hoped her knee wasn’t giving her too much trouble. Her speed made her believe she was having a good night with her knee and she wondered if the cold was helping.

There were a few delays with injuries and then five minutes were added to the half. Ridley was casually eating popcorn beside her, surprisingly focussed on the game. She would have questioned it if she weren’t so focussed on Lucy and buzzing with excitement for when she saw her after the game.

That, however, did not go to plan in terms of timing. The ball was kicked out just in front of where the Australians were sitting and it was a Barca throw in on the boundary. Lucy jogged over as she always took the throw ins and held her hands out for a ball. She stopped suddenly as her eyes locked onto YFN and her mouth dropped open. She’d never seen Lucy so shocked in her life. She was frozen still, arms out, and it were as if the entire stadium was watching. YFN blushed at the attention and gave her a little wave.

A ball hitting Lucy in the face knocked her from her trance though she didn’t react much to it beyond the wide grin that spread over her face. YFN’s grin followed Lucy’s and she gestured to the field. Lucy turned but sure made it obvious where she’d rather be as she couldn’t help but look over at her again as she walked to her throw in spot.

She wiped the ball under her shirt like she usually did and YFN couldn’t help but appreciate her ass in those shorts as she took her throw in.

Ridley leant towards YFN, stretching an arm over the back of her seat confidently. “So when’s the wedding?”

YFN scoffed, though couldn’t stop her smile as she watched Lucy.

A few minutes later, the whistle blew to signal the end of the first half. Lucy came bounding over to the boundary where they were and she still hadn’t noticed Ridley, her eyes only for her girlfriend.

“Hi Luce!” She called down to her and reached a hand down. Lucy reached up automatically and hooked their pinkies together with a grin.

“Hi, little one. You surprised me.”

“Pretty sure the whole stadium saw that, Luce.”

“Your fault. How…wait…” Lucy jumped up and grabbed the bar, using her biceps to pull her up close enough for YFN to hug her. If that wasn’t impressive enough, she took one arm off the bar to gently pull her head tighter into the crook of her neck.

“Little one.” Lucy murmured into her softly, just for them. She got a little emotional and the longer she held herself there, the more YFN wondered how long she could hold on. She needed to speak quick.

“Luce I need to tell you something.”

Lucy pulled her hand back to help her grip onto the bar again, her biceps bulging as she held herself there with surprising ease. She looked a little worried.

YFN leant into her and wrapped her arms around her neck so it was just Lucy that could hear.

“I love you, Luce.”

She bowed her head to kiss her neck under her arms where no one would be able to see what she was doing and pulled back to see another shocked looking Lucy, though this one was very happily shocked. Lucy looked at her lips as if she were going to kiss her in front of all of those people and then opened her mouth to speak but before she could, there were sounds underneath Lucy. They both looked down at Panos and Oshoala dragging one of their cooler boxes under Lucy so she had something to stand on. Lucy relaxed herself down onto it as YFN waved back to the girls shyly who were now teasing them. She saw behind them that Keira and Alexia were wandering over to greet them.

“She made it!” Oshoala preached, arms held high as if she were praying. “She hasn’t shut up about you.”

“Oh?” YFN looked at Lucy who was still looking at her as if she had a million things to say.

“How?” She asked again, changing subjects.

YFN turned to Ridley who Lucy still hadn’t noticed yet, only to see her leaning up against the rail with a teasing, dark expression as she looked down at one of the players. They followed her gaze to Alexia who was frozen on the spot, not dissimilar to Lucy earlier as she stared at Ridley with wide eyes.

Ridley leant over the bar just a little further to greet her.

“La Reina.”

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underoospeterparker · 10 months

Text

𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧

summary: you and jj have similar family situations, but you've never been able to tell him. but when you're left bruised and battered, he's the only person you can think to go to.

warnings: ABUSE, violence, description of cuts, bruises, black eyes, swearing, angsty but with comfort

𓆉‧₊˚✩

you clutched at your bruised and bleeding face, a black eye already forming and a cut completely covering your cheek.

it wasn’t the first time. it had been much worse before, but not as visible as it was this time. you’d guessed he was just too drunk to even care anymore.

you were limping, trying to get to the chateau. you were completely frightened at the idea of your dad being able to catch up with you, even though he was most likely still passed out on the couch.

climbing up the porch steps, you hesitated before opening the door. you didn’t want to your boyfriend to worry. after all, jj had faced much worse than this and he would still want to take care of you, just like you had him.

but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell anyone what was happening. you hoped nobody was home when you finally let yourself in, making your way to the bathroom.

“y/n?” jj’s voice called out from the living room. “is that you?” shit. he’d already heard you, and there was no way that you could hide this from him.

when you didn’t respond, he grew worried. “sweetheart?” he said again, his voice becoming closer.

as soon as your boyfriend saw you, he smiled, making his way over to you. he turned on the light and then his face fell in less than a second.

rushing to you, he gently cupped your face in his calloused hands, eyes hardening at you being hurt. “who did this?” he asked, a dangerous tone in his voice.

you pulled away reluctantly. “nobody, j.” you plastered a fake smile on your face. “just accidentally banged my head, you know.”

you winced as the lie came out. it was so unbelievable, and your boyfriend knew better.

he slowly guided you to the couch, helping you to sit down. “please, princess,” he murmured. “tell me.”

your eyes dropped to the floor, tearing up already. “my dad,” you whispered, forcing yourself to look at him.

you watched as the look in his eyes moved from questioning to understanding to rage. your tears finally slipped and he softened, tilting your chin up to look at you.

“i’m so sorry,” he said, thumbing away your tears as best as he could. and that was all he could say, really. he knew what it was like, and there were no words to describe the immense pain he knew you were going through right now.

so he just held you tightly to his chest, careful of your bruises, stroking your hair and murmuring that it was all going to be okay.

he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, then unlinked your body from his to pull himself away.

you whimpered, nervously clutching at his arm. you thought he was leaving you, and realisation clicked in his eyes before he grabbed your hands. “i’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “just going to get john b's kit, okay?”

you nodded, and he reached for you to give you a kiss, comforting you without words.

he returned in a second, immediately taking his place next to you on the sofa. he first tended to your face, rage filling up within him every time you would groan or wince in pain.

he let you play with his hand, never once complaining about your nails leaving crescent moons on his palm. anything to help with the pain. if he could help take your pain away from you, he’d do it in a second.

“are you hurt anywhere else, sweetheart?” he asked softly, placing a bandage on the cut on your hand and then bringing it to his lips.

“yeah,” you mumbled. “stomach area, i think.”

his eyes held nothing but care and worry for you. he gently reached for the bottom of your shirt, murmuring a soft, “can i?”

you nodded, watching him flinch at the sight of the bruises littering your body. “fuck,” he said, forcing himself to meet your eyes. “how long has this been going on?”

you hesitated, and he lightly prodded you. giving up, you said, “couple months.”

you could see the pain in his eyes. “why didn’t you tell me?”

pausing slightly, you murmured, "guess i was scared." recognition dawned on his face and he had never related to you as much as he had in that moment.

"y'know i'd never hurt you," he said, but it was more like a question.

"i know," you responded, letting him patch you up. when he was finally done, he kissed every single one of your cuts and bruises, making you blush.

you buried your head into his chest, where you finally felt like you were safe. "your arms feel like home," you mumbled, drifting off to sleep already.

now it was his turn to blush, and he smiled at your sleepy comment. he murmured a soft, "i love you," before heading off to sleep himself.

𓆉‧₊˚✩

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #obx fic #fluff #angsty #tw abuse #child abuse #comfort #hurt/comfort #jj x you #outer banks #my fics #obx fanfiction

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tommysversion · 1 year

Text

Breathe Through It (Joel Miller x Reader)

Summary: you have a panic attack. Joel helps.

CWs: Descriptions of mental health conditions (namely PTSD, but can be read as any anxiety based disorder with panic attacks) / graphic description of a panic attack / some adult language/ references to past trauma (nothing explicitly described but inferred).

Notes: This is entirely self indulgent, I have pretty severe PTSD and this is the coping mechanism of the day. Implied to be F!Reader but it can be read as gender neutral.

Word Count: 1.1k

Tag List: @joelsgirl & @mydailyhyperfixations

You don't feel it happen until it does. You've heard that for some people, their panic attacks build up, like the world's shittiest tidal wave, steadily looming over them.

Yours aren't like that. You'll be fine one minute, then something will trigger it. A sound. A place. A thought. Someone with a similar sounding name. A nightmare.

You get less than ten seconds warning, if you're lucky, before it hits you like a tonne of bricks and you freeze. It doesn't matter where you are, what you're doing, your chest constricts and you get tunnel vision. It's like you're a spectator in your own body, dissociated so hard you can't tell left from right.

The worst thing is when you lose your ability to speak. It doesn't happen every time, but when it does it's like someone's squeezing sand down your throat, completely taking away your ability to ask for help. As if you even could. You hate drawing attention to yourself at the best of times, let alone when you're so vulnerable.

Which is why it's annoyingly inconvenient that this is happening now. You haven't exactly been hiding your panic attacks from Joel, but you haven't directly talked about it with him. You know he has his own problems, far more trauma than he lets on. You know it isn't a competition, but you don't want to burden him with your anxiety.

Deep down, you know that it wouldn't be a burden. That he loves you, but it's hard to remember that when trauma brain is the one at the wheel.

You're not sure what it is this time. You're just walking through town with him, heading home after a drink, after a shift on the guard tower together, when someone, of all things, laughs. The laugh isn't quite right, but it sounds close enough that you freeze up, breath catching in your throat. Fuck, you're maybe ten feet from home. Why now?

Joel gets maybe two steps ahead of you before he realises you're no longer keeping pace, turns to say something, maybe crack a joke about you being a lightweight, but the comment dies on his lips the moment he sees your expression.

Most people think you just space out. Think it's a personality quirk or just a thing that you do. Joel knows better. He knows better because Ellie's described what he looks like when he has a panic attack, recognises when he's about to have one these days.

So it's immediately fucking clear as day to him what's happening.

He doesn't bother asking what's set it off; knows that there isn't always a clear answer, and that even asking, reminding you of the trigger, could just make it worse.

Joel hates being touched when he's having an episode of his own. Knows it triggers his fight response, that he'll start swinging. He doesn't think that will apply to you, but he doesn't know for certain, and that's all that keeps him from wrapping his arms tight around you.

Instead, he takes you by the hand, leads you the last few steps to the house, closes the door behind you, flips the light on.

"'S okay. Look, we're good. Door's closed. Nobody's coming after us."

You can barely hear him, heart pounding in your ears, breaths coming out ragged like you've just run a marathon.

"Hey. Hey. If you can, look at me, okay?"

He doesn't sound angry, or tired, and it's not a demand. This voice is the one he uses when Ellie's sick, or you're sick, or when he's reassuring one of the kids in town that he's not remotely mad that they stole an extra slice of pie when he was meant to be on food watch duty.

Joel is always soft spoken, but this is different. It makes you feel safe, not enough to pull you out of it, because that's not how it works, but safe enough to look at him, to focus as best you can on the dark depths of his eyes.

"There you are." He goes to let go of your hand but you cling on to him, slump against his chest, needing the warmth and solidness of him to ground you.

That's all the permission he needs, wrapping his arms tight around you.

"I've got you. You're safe, I promise."

You know that. Deep down, you know that the people who hurt you are far away. That they'll never touch you, control you, hurt you, ever again. You know that you're safe here, in this house, with Joel.

He rubs soothing circles on your back, kisses the top of your head, relieved when you start breathing properly again, coming down from the adrenaline.

"You don't need to hide these from me, darlin', I know how they feel."

"That's why I didn't want you to deal with it." You manage to get out; your throat is dry as hell, the guilt already forming.

"Deal with it? What, like it's a big issue? I'd rather be able to help. That's what I'm here for. We do this together, remember?"

"But it's..."

"Nothing. Don't you dare call yourself a burden or anything similar. You've been through so much. Ain't a competition. But you've gotta let me in, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise?" You hate how small your voice is, how distant you still feel. Even if the worst is over, you'll still feel horrible for a few more hours, trapped by your own thoughts.

"I promise. Breathe through it, baby. I'm not going anywhere. We can stay here all night if it helps you feel safe."

You exhale. You do feel safer, standing there with his arms locked around you.

"Will it always be like this?" You hate yourself for asking, but you know he's been dealing with these a lot longer than you have.

"Yes and no," Joel says finally. "You learn to sit with them. They don't suck any less, they're still fuckin' horrible, but you get your support, and you'll learn to sit with them."

You nod against his chest, finally feeling a little better. At least better enough that it doesn't feel like your limbs are full of cement.

"What can I do to help?"

You consider for a minute. "Can we have coffee? Maybe take a shower?"

You always feel a cold sweat come over you after the worst of it passes. Joel nods, gives you one last reassuring squeeze.

"Course we can. Whatever you need, darlin', I'm always gonna be here for you."

He lets go of you to move to the kitchen, but keeps hold of your hand, knows without asking that you still need the reassurance of touch.

"Hey, Joel?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I love you."

"Love you too, baby. C'mon, let me take care of you."

It's not a miracle cure. No such thing exists, after all, but having someone who loves you so much, who you know will support you through it? It makes all the difference in the world.

#my writing #joel miller #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff

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screeblees · 6 months

Text

Yandere Manipulating Boyfriend x Kidnapped Reader Headcannons

Yandere Manipulating Boyfriend is Male and Kidnapped Reader is Gender Neutral

Been a bit since I've posted! I was in a bit of a slump and got hit with creative juices - definitely wrote way more than usual!

I hope this isn't too long, I kinda love this idea if you can't tell :3

Find my Masterlist here !

Please enjoy!!<33

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who pretends to be in a normal relationship.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who stalked you for months after his attention was captured, taking photos and videos all for blackmail (among other things…)

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who broke in and drugged you with some sleeping pills, he knew you hadn’t been sleeping well after all!

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who took most of your belongings with him once he kidnapped you, mixing everything with his home’s own décor to make it look like you’d lived there for months, ensuring details such as two toothbrushes, your hygiene products being in a similar place to where they were in your own home, two sets of dishes in the sink, any work documents or notes being scattered about the desk, any little detail he could think of to make it look like you had went about your day just the night prior.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who knew you wouldn’t believe it, but at the very least you would doubt your own mind, which was exactly what he wanted.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who assured he removed all sharp (or potential escape) objects from your shared bedroom, the windows are locked and tinted and you are laid in your bed while he cuddles you, waiting on you waking up.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who acted confused and worried from the moment you woke up, he really had no idea why you didn’t remember your loving boyfriend, you had been living with him for months!

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who would restrain you if you fight him, explaining it away by him being scared of you in your “amnesic” state and not wanting you to hurt yourself or go outside and get lost since you seemingly don’t remember anything about the largest part of your life.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who has written an entire book’s worth of stories to fully flesh out your relationship; how you met, how you kept bumping into one another, your first, second, third and-so-on dates, moving in together, the list goes on!

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who tells quite detailed (made up) stories of your time together, all taken from his previous writings which proving immensely helpful in avoiding contradicting himself and explaining why he knows everything about you!

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who crushes any pesky stray thoughts that may lead you to doubt him swiftly and completely. (“The lack of pictures? Oh, well, I’m pretty self conscious so I prefer taking pictures of you! My favourites are the candid ones, you just look so peaceful!”) You end the conversation glad that you asked, not realising that he had technically completely avoided the question and he later returns with a few pictures of important anniversaries which he commissioned from a very talented photoshopper.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who confiscates your phone, citing that you shouldn’t be on social media while recovering, all that negativity may impact your health! He may message your friends, family and workplace, just to let them know you’ll be unreachable for the time being, that’s all! (and then if you have a few people less in your contacts and a few more in your blocked list then who’s to say what happened?)

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who spoon-feeds you, refusing to let you do more than sit in bed, rest, and talk to him. For the time being he’s keeping you to soft foods; soup, porridge, mashed potatoes, pasta, scrambled eggs, applesauce, yoghurt and pudding for a treat! (It’s nobody’s business if he’s adding some medicine to make you hazy and docile to make you feel better and make you weaker since you seem to be getting sick).

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who slowly allows you to get better you to do more for yourself, although he still encourages you to stay in bed and enjoys feeding you himself, he’s allowed to be a little selfish - after all, he’s still worried for you!

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who begins the heavy guilt-tripping (as if he hadn’t already) once you start insisting on getting out of bed and doing things on your own; “I just want the best for you, why won’t you let me help you?” “Are you trying to hurt yourself? Straining yourself will only put you back, I know you don’t know me but can’t you see that I only want what’s best for you?” “I know you don’t remember me but I love you, can’t you at least appreciate my love for you if you can’t love me back?”

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who is always cheerful and sweet (sickeningly so) and suffocatingly affectionate, no matter how you resist his efforts the most upset he’ll get is a pitying or disappointed look. Anything he really doesn’t like is simply ignored, you didn’t mean to say that - obviously - so he just won’t hear it in the first place!

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who’s reactions grow twitchier the more you insist and fight against him, he’s extremely good at keeping his charming smile from slipping but he must admit it grows more and more difficult every day as you barrage him with your range of pleads and reasoning to demands and yelling - the former only causing him to say “Oh, honey…” in a pitiful manner and take you in his arms, rocking and shushing you like a parent would for a crying child - and the latter only receives a disappointed yet strict “I’ll leave you to calm down.” and a firmly shut door.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who’s patience has grown thin and his tolerance is reached as they are exhausted by the same song and dance every day, the same ungrateful tone, never thanking, only asking for more.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who finally snaps.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who screams at you “WHY CAN’T YOU JUST BE HAPPY?! WHY CAN’T YOU JUST APPRECIATE ME?!”

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who’s eyes are wide and bloodshot, his usually put-together appearance has been thrown to the wind, dishevelled clothes and messy hair taking its place. One hand grips the side of the bed frame above your bed as he leans over you. The silence is searing in the seconds after, you both stay frozen still, neither of you expected the outburst and neither know how to react or proceed.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who clears his throat and takes several steps back, unable to make eye contact as mutters an apology for his outburst and leaves with the excuse of making dinner, no matter your reaction. He’ll feel guilt in his throat for days to come but will never address what happened - and will shut you down with a loud and obvious change in subject if you ever try to - instead bringing you gifts such as stuffed toys, blankets, soothing drinks and a little more sugary food than he had previously given you (it doesn’t matter if you don’t like them, although he’ll adapt to your tastes, the nature of the gifts will remain the same).

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who restrains again you if you start being physical with him, clearly your amnesia has seriously affected you to make you act like this.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who allows you to work from home if your (previous) job accommodates it, of course you don’t need to work (really, he’d be able to support you without you lifting a finger) but he thinks it’ll give you something to do and keep your mind from wandering into dangerous territory (with limits, naturally).

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who still dotes like the day you woke up, still spoon-feeding and even carrying you from room to room (especially when you are not yet trusted, instead you are placed in your chair to have dinner together and are expected not to get up until you are carried back to your room afterwards) and even just having you sit on his lap as he plays with your hair.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who sometimes uses a baby-voice when talking to you, especially when you’re trying to have a serious conversation. (“Aww is someone’s feelings acting up? I think someone needs a cuddle and a nap, huh?”)

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who takes a very, very long time to really trust you (or rather, trust his manipulation and gaslighting have taken effect, maybe with a touch of stockholm syndrome) and when he does, expect to not have a moment without supervision. Once he lets you out of your room into the rest of your apartment, naturally there’s cameras covering every corner, sensors on all the doors and windows and a ring doorbell so you don’t interact with anyone when he’s not there. And maybe, if you’re really moved by his tactics, taking up the role of a loving partner, then you may be rewarded with rare dates - outside of your shared home - to places like the aquarium or zoo, an activity to keep your mind occupied.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who claims to only want what's best for you, to help you in your recovery and to settle into your new normal.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who spoils you, although dates outside the apartment are few and far between - even once you earn his trust - he tries to have a romantic evening at least once a week. Of course, he cooks almost every night - your boyfriend should be able to tend every need - but he puts in special effort on these date nights, maybe a more expensive meat (if that’s your preference, he’ll adapt for whatever your dietary habits are) the dish will be made with spices and oils to enhance the rich flavours of the dish to a mouth-watering extent - and naturally candles will surround where you eat and several vases of a mix of flowers all relating to the love he has for you, most of which in shades of red such as roses, chrysanthemums, carnations with the rare white alyssum or bergenia mixed into the array of bouquets around your home.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who loves you unlike anyone else ever could…

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