#i hope this explains things. i feel like what i wrote was a bit confusing 💀

[psychabolition]

So, then, what’s your opinion on autigender? Does that fall into the same circular-reasoning loop at other things supposedly “caused” by mental disorders? Is there a better alternative?

This is all a good faith question btw

Short answer:

I think the concept of autigender is cool but it doesnt go "far enough" in depathologizing queerness AND neurodivergency. yes its the same circular reasoning. I personally use the neurodiversity framework as an alternative to the biomedical model.

Long answer:

As far as I know autigender is part of a concept thats called "neuroqueer" . Its a framework that thinks of neurodivergency and queerness as often intersecting with each other instead of seperate from each other.

A person that I met in the psych ward told me that theyre autigender and it helped me a little bit in depathologizing my own queerness ! During this stay I was told that I need to be cured of being queer since its "caused by my personality disorder" and I believed this .I think the concept is really helpful for a lot of people including myself since it tries to combine neurodiversity + queerness into one and tries to see neither as an illness.

It doesnt actually manage to do this though , if you use this framework of "neuroqueer" for yourself you still view neurodiversity and queerness as seperate from each other in some way or other (like for example this could result in you thinking something like "my autism influences my gender in a very specific way" or "if I wasnt autistic I wouldn't be nonbinary"). Also you would still use the biomedical model to a certain extend to understand your own experiences (what I mean with this is for example thinking something like "my autism causes my queerness" or "my autism causes specific norm deviations that my psychologist told me are signs/symptoms of autism spectrum (disorder)).

So yes I would say the framework "neuroqueer" which includes the concept autigender (colloquially these words are synonyms anyway) falls into the same circular reasoning loop as the one I mentioned in my other post .

Whats weird with the label "autism/neurodivergency" is that the neurodiversity framework (which is from disability activists) got co-opted by psychiatry and incorporated into the biomedical model. So now you have people saying things like "you have signs of autism" instead of "you have symptoms of autism spectrum disorder" or "your autism causes you to feel and act different than others do and you need to learn to cope with what society expects of you" instead of "your autism causes you to act and feel dysfunctional and disordered and you need to learn how to act normal so you fit into society" . Which is pretty much the same.

Other examples are people who are labelled w autism saying things like : "I dont have a mental disorder/illness! I have a brain thats different than those of people with "normal brains". Other people who are labelled as mentally ill are actually mentally disordered though - like those who arent born neurodivergent or those whose neurodivergency includes suffering more severely than others do".

All queerness is a deviation from societal norms on how we're supposed to think/feel/act and all neurodivergency is also a deviation from societal norms on how we're supposed to think/feel/ act (a norm deviation like this could also be that youre suffering more severely than others in this society). Theres not really a difference between the 2 frameworks in my opinion.

Obviously you can think of your own experiences exactly how you want to . I personally use the neurodiversity framework to depathologize my experiences . I dont think of myself as uncurably ill anymore since it simply doesnt make sense to me. I personally see all queerness ,including my own, as a form of neurodivergency (=deviation from neuronormativity).

This is the way I used these words:

neurodiversity framework = we are all different people. We think, feel ,act different and have different abilities. This doesnt mean anyone who is norm deviating in this way is ill/disordered/sick

neurodivergency = deviation from neuronormativity

neuronormativity = all norms about what is societally deemed normal to think/feel/do based on your assigned gender/age/socioeconomic status/culture/...)

biomedical model = psychiatry tried to align themselves with medicine to gain more validity as a science so their treatments and drugs would be seen as "medically necessary". Mental illness labels are seen in the same way diagnoses of physical illnesses are without fulfilling the medical criteria for "illness". Your brain is labelled as "sick" without any "medical evidence". Your norm deviation (like suffering more extremely than others do or perceiving the world very different than others do) is labelled as symptoms/signs of an underlying illness that is seen as in your own mind/brain.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Hello love!! How are you doing? 💕

I LOVE your works so much!! You are so amazing and talented!! I wanted to thank you for writing the 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 cursed technique Nanami fic, and especially not judging me for it 🫶🏽. I don’t know you but you seem like such a nice and cool person, with that being said… I was thinking about a fic I saw where Saturo Gojo got his wisdom teeth removed and he falls in love with you over again and I thought that would ADORABLE but with Kento 😭 (also I can’t remember who wrote the fic to give credit sorry) So like yeah Nanami would get his wisdom teeth removed and you’d take care of him and he would be such a charming man (he already is) but like just the most fluff thing he’d be like “you’re a very beautiful nurse” “I’m not a nurse but thank you” you feel me? Anyways that was it lol

Much love and take care!! 💗💗

(I don’t know what anon is 😅 is it like your followers cause I see request and people ask if they can be added as anon and I’m like so confused)

You’re my…. my wife?

Tags: Nanami x fem!Reader, established relationship, crack, fluff, suggestive at the end.

An: Hey Anon! Tysm for requesting again. I’m glad you liked the freaky energy fic!! Also, ofc I’ll never judge you for any fic idea (as long as it’s not like straight up deplorable with nasty kinks).

I hope it’s okay, but I changed this fic idea a little because I fear it was a bit too close to the original creator’s idea, and I don’t want to encroach on their idea. However, I hope the vibes are still there that you wanted!!

Your normally strong, doting, intelligent husband has been reduced to a confused mess. Lying in the bed in the sterile infirmary, Shoko carefully monitors his vitals while Satoru recites exactly how it all happened for the nth time.

Your loving, sweet, charming husband was hit with a very specific cursed technique while he was out on a mission with Gojo. Luckily, he was physically unharmed and mostly mentally unharmed as well… except the cursed technique is one that messes with the memory.

The curse didn’t just want to kill Nanami; it wanted to break him. The curse robbed Nanami of his memory of his most precious moments: the one’s that included you.

His hazel eyes scanned the room, wondering why everyone was making such a big fuss over him. He was fine - really.

You sat beside his hospital bed, wanting to hold his hand, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him. Shoko said that his mind may be a bit fragile after having such a crucial part of his memory tampered with.

When his hazel eyes met yours, Nanami stared at you for a moment before shifting in his bed slightly. He looked to be uncomfortable with your sheer presence, which only broke your heart more.

“Were you hit with the cursed technique too?” He finally speaks, looking over at you with a bit of a confused look. He was really trying to piece together why you were here with him.

“Oh, um… no..” You quietly respond with a forced smile. Your heart longed for your husband, and he was right here but he wasn’t your husband.

“Forgive me… Are you Shoko’s apprentice..?” He tries once again to remember. He’s seen your face before. Maybe in a different lifetime.

Satoru and Shoko are silent as they both witness what’s going on between you and Nanami. Holding their breaths, they’re hopeful that he’ll regain his memory at some point. The curse couldn’t just extract memories. As Shoko explained it, the curse probably just kept the memories hidden from Nanami. Your husband will probably slowly start to remember you over time.

“No… I’m not Shoko’s apprentice.” You politely answer again. As bittersweet as this is, it’s certainly a cute scene to see Kento trying to make conversation with you.

“Hm.” He hums to himself quietly before he gazes at you again. His hand combs through his hair, trying to fix it up from lying in the hospital bed, and Satoru quietly snickers.

“Trying to look good for her, Nanamin?” He teases lightheartedly, earning a death glare from your husband. You softly giggle too, realizing what’s going on. Your poor husband isn’t uncomfortable with your presence. He’s nervous.

“Don’t be crude, Satoru. There’s a lady in the room.” He huffs, shaking his head at Satoru’s audacity.

“Aww, thank you, Nanami.” Shoko grins, subtly playing along with Satoru’s tactic.

“I wasn’t talking about you.” Nanami responds flatly before his eyes shift to you in another “secretive” glance, except everyone notices how he keeps looking at you. Your husband can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“I.. apologize for being a bit forward, but do you think we could…” His eyes flicker down to the wedding band that’s proudly sat upon your finger. His face subtly drops to a disappointed look. “Ah, I see. forget what I was saying.”

Shoko and Satoru are nearly losing it. The irony that Nanami is disappointed that he can’t ask you out because you’re married to him is hilarious. You give them a look, and they both quickly excuse themselves from the room, so they can go laugh together.

Once the two are finally out of the room, you smile softly before placing your hand over your husband’s, using your thumb to gently stroke the back of his hand. He looks at you with an unsure look, but he doesn’t remove his hand. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly.

“If you were my wife, I wouldn’t like you touching another man like that…” He mutters quietly, causing you to softly giggle.

“Well, it’s a good thing I am your wife.” You finally reveal to him, unable to keep the secret any longer.

Nanami’s eyes widen, and he looks at you with sparkling eyes but also utter confusion written all over his face. His heart is racing in his chest. The heart monitor starts to beep at a more pressured pace. The pretty woman that has been sitting next to him is his wife…?

“You’re my… my wife?” He asks quietly.

“Mhm.” You hum in agreement before lacing your fingers with his. Your wedding band rubs against his. Both of the gems were cut from the same diamond. His eyes then focus on the joining of your hands, and he notices it too. “We’ve been married for a few years now.” You explain in a calm tone, trying to ease him into the idea of it all.

“I… I’m sorry… I don’t-“ Nanami is rarely off kilter like this, but he’s just trying to wrap his head around it all. You’re his wife… You’re his wife. “I’m sorry- I just can’t seem to remember…”

“It’s okay, Ken. Take your time.” You encourage as you rub on his hand gently.

His eyes fall to his lap, and a small smile curls on his lips. He may not completely comprehend what’s going on, but he knows in his very soul that he’s the luckiest man alive because you’re his wife.

Watching Ken fall in love with you all over again and rediscover all his daily pleasures was a treat. He slowly regained his memory over time: prompted by his senses randomly picking up on familiar sighs, smells, or even tastes.

Ken didn’t only fall in love with you all over again. He fell in love with the life he cultivated with you again. He found himself laughing a bit harder. He squeezed you a bit tighter. He lounged in bed for an extra ten minutes in the morning time to bask in your presence.

Oh, and that’s not to mention the literal tears he cried the first time he felt your cherished cunt after the incident. The way you squeezed around him so intensely… the way it’s so fucking wet — greedily sucking him in… Goddamn, he’s so lucky to have you.

[laenordeservedbetter]

Why?

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader (Daughter of Athena)

Synopsis: Percy sees something he never expected to see.

Warnings: Fluff, kissing, confused Percy, Clarisse slander (Percy), fear of spiders. lmk if I missed any.

This one-shot is based on this tweet.

A/N: Hello, lovely people. I'm back. I can't believe it's been almost a year since I last wrote on here. My writing skills got rusty, but I hope you enjoy reading anyway.

not my gif. || masterlist

Percy was walking with Luke as the latter continued showing him the camp facilities that they didn’t get to go over in the original tour when he sees a strange sight that makes him stop walking. He squints his eyes, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. When his visions do not change, his eyebrows raise, almost going to the top of his head by how surprised he was.

Luke stops talking when he notices that Percy’s attention was elsewhere. He tries to follow Percy’s line of sight and chuckles when he does. “Oh, yeah. That.” Luke smiles, amused. “That happens pretty much every once in a while.”

“Should we help her?” Percy asks, mortified, as he refers to you. He felt uneasy, seeing you with Clarisse. She is the camp bully, isn’t she? People shouldn’t be leaving you alone with her. Something about the predicament he saw the two of you in seemed off. It shouldn’t be happening, that’s for sure. He steps forward, wanting to free you from the torture when Luke places a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from doing so.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Luke shakes his head, making sure Percy wasn’t going to make any more steps before he retracts his hand.

“Why are Clarisse and Y/n sitting with their backs to each other?” Percy looks up at Luke, knowing the older camper wasn’t going to let him interfere. The least Luke could do was answer his questions.

“They had a fight.” Luke explains simply, still with an amused smirk.

“Then why are they holding hands?”

“They get sad when they fight.” The raven-haired boy shrugs.

Percy doesn’t say anything, keeping up with his staring. It didn’t occur to him how creepy or weird it was, seeing how baffled he still is upon seeing you and Clarisse in the same room, and holding hands. It’s giving him the heebie-jeebies. What business did Clarisse have holding hands with one of the kindest people in camp? He didn’t like that idea, but there was nothing he could do about it. His only hope was that Clarisse doesn’t infect you with her bad attitude.

Meanwhile, inside the Athena cabin, you squeezed Clarisse’s hand three times, but you didn’t say a word. You were still pretty upset from the incident earlier.

Clarisse tried to look at you from her peripheral vision and even though you couldn’t see it, you knew that her face was ridden with guilt. She sighs, “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tossed that spider to you when we were in the woods, even if I was freaked out.”

You had been walking in the woods together, hand in hand, when a spider fell on Clarisse’s shoulder. Her natural instinct was to kill it, but she didn’t have any weapons with her and she was starting to panic, so she did the first thing her brain told her to do. She flung the spider over to you despite knowing full well that you were afraid of them.

You take a deep breath, staying silent for a few seconds before saying, “I forgive you and I’m sorry for yelling and cursing you.” Your head hung low in shame. That wasn’t your proudest moment either. The things you said would have made even Chiron blush.

Clarisse gives out a huge sigh of relief, momentarily letting go of your hand so she can stand up. She walks over so she can finally be face to face with you. “It’s okay, I forgive you. You were freaking out too.” She wraps her arms around you, meeting your gaze with a smile.

“I thought my soul left my body at that point.” You pouted, bits of distress still not wearing off.

She cups your face, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “Do you feel better now?” She asks with a soft smile.

You can’t stop the smile from spreading to your face, too. You wrap your arms around her waist and hug her from your position on the chair, holding her tighter for maximum comfort. Clarisse laughs at how you didn’t want to let go, even after two minutes have passed.

“I love you so much. You know that, right?” Clarisse states, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I know.” You murmur happily against her, wanting nothing more than to stay in this moment forever.

Outside the cabin, about ten feet away, Percy Jackson could be seen with his jaw dropped and eyes wider than before. “They’re dating?!” He exclaims, looking at Luke in a panic. It seems that he didn’t connect the dots until you and Clarisse kissed. And even then, it seemed like it wasn’t true. He wasn’t concerned anymore, just confused.

Luke’s brows furrowed. “Couldn’t you already tell by the way they were holding hands earlier?”

Percy stares at Luke, his mouth agape, then back to you and Clarisse, then back to Luke again, feeling like he was about to combust because of this new information. “What? No. Why would I even—”

Luke pulls Percy along, cutting his rambling short. “You have much to learn, Percy. So much.” He walks ahead, heading back to the Hermes cabin. “Come on. I’ll fill you in when we get back to the cabin.”

[leclercss]

Paris, je t'aime (Charles Leclerc), Part 3

Masterlist

plot: it's almost three years since your tumultuous relationships with Lewis and Charles came crashing down. but you find your self in a new city with new beginnings and new ways to fuck up your love life. that's no thanks to a cheeky frenchman who's set you up on a double date with someone oh so familiar.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating, violence and some swearing

authors note: part trois, enjoy. i have been awol, i'm sorry. i literally wrote this and accidentally deleted my draft. fml. this chapter is going to focus on Charles' perspective of the break up. it may explain a lot of his feelings, i hope you enjoy

word count: 5.2k

taglist: @toppersjeep @janeholt3, @princess-siba, @nichmeddar, @tremendousandsonorouswords, @cmleitora, @victoriaholland, @amalialeclerc, @queensofshinigamis, @tempo-rary-fix, @starmanv, @happylittlereader, @trouble-sistar, @lightdragonrayne, @persephonemv1, @dreamingofautopia

*Charles POV*

As the sun peaks through the curtains and hits my face, I find myself rolling over in bed. It's been three years since we've shared a bed, but it's almost instinct for arm to reach out to [Y/N] and for me to wrap around her body. Only this time, my arm finds itself falling onto the mattress.

Confused, I open my eyes to find that the space in the bed beside me is no longer occupied. She's no longer in the bed and all that Charles is left with is the scent of her perfume that has lingered onto the sheets and a small piece of paper with some writing.

I pick up the note in my hand, feeling dread that [Y/N] found yesterday all a little bit too much and she's decided that she doesn't want to see me any more.

’ I promise I’m not running away this time, I just think that we both deserve the chance for a clear head in the morning.

I’m so grateful that I got the chance to see you again.

Amour xxx ’

A small sense of reliefs courses its way through my body but I don't feel any better at the fact that she's no longer in the bed beside me. I don't want a clear head because how is that possible? Because as I fell asleep, last night, with [Y/N] in my arms, all I could think about is how much of the last three years of my life had been a lie. But it wasn't a lie, because the last time I saw her almost feels like yesterday, and I remember it so well.

*3 years ago*

“Lewis is moving to New York," [Y/N] blurts out.

"He's moving to New York?" I ask. My eyebrows furrow at her comment, it wasn't what I was expecting [Y/N] to say, after all I had just suggested that maybe we find our own place in the near future. But hey, if Lewis wants to move to another continent, this was even better in my eyes. Hell, I'd even be willing to drive him to the airport if it meant that he could get out of our lives quicker.

No more hidden moments, no more sneaking around. We could just be us. We're good together and sure, it's been an unconventional journey, but I know that [Y/N] is worth it.

I'm still staring down at [Y/N] as she looks up at me before nodding. I can't help but smile down at her and take her hand in mine. We've had many intimate moments together, but what we've just shared has felt the most raw yet.

Fuck, I wanted her to choke me, I've never felt this crazy in love with a woman before. I'd cut my heart open for her.

"That's good, right?"

I notice [Y/N] gulp before she answers, "He's moving in a few weeks".

I nod. That's not too bad. It's not ideal for her living situation but we can and will figure this out.

"Okay, well if you need somewhere to stay, you can always stay here. We'll figure it out, okay? We'll get somewhere of our own if you want? But the important thing is, we can be together".

'Charles..."

"What’s wrong, amour?"

I try to ignore the shiver that runs through by body, ignoring all the red flags being waves, as [Y/N] lets out a sigh before closing her eyes. Okay, maybe moving in together is a little bit too much to ask but shouldn't she be happier that she's finally ending her sham of a marriage?

I'm still looking down at [Y/N] as I'm trying to figure out what's going on her head. Her hand is still in mine but it's now limp, lifeless. I thought she would be happier than this but maybe the ending of her marriage is much more complex than I thought. Maybe she's actually going to miss this guy? Is she sad that it's ending? Surely not, right?

"I... I ... Lewis is going to New York and he wants me to go with him".

Silence falls between the two of us as I've tried to process what [Y/N] just told me. My ears begin to ring and I'm questioning if what I've heard is actually real.

"And you told him no, right?" I ask. I almost feel stupid asking her this because to me, the answer is so obvious. But a few moments have now passed and the longer that she lays there, her limp hand in mine, the more nervous I become. I notice her chest to begin rising and falling. Rising and falling. It's getting quicker by each second and I'm not so sure about anything any more.

She looks guilty and nervous. Why hasn't she answered me yet?

"Amour, you told him no, right?" Charles asks again, this time there's a desperate tone to my voice. "I mean, you're not wearing your rings?"

But there's nothing that is coming from [Y/N]'s mouth and I almost feel like I'm having an outer body experience. She's seriously going to go? After everything?

I think I'm going to throw up.

But I love her, how could she...

No fuck this. Fuck this entirely. Fuck him and you know what, fuck her!

She still hasn't had the balls to answer me, sitting there, looking all innocent and shell shocked. She's just let me make love to her, let me bare my soul and show her my most intimate desires only to tell me that she's not only ending things with me but she's moving. Moving to New York of all places and with him? The man who has not only attempted to humiliate me on many ocassions, but has humiliated her for years.

The longer I look at her, the more I feel my heart breaking but also, the angrier I become. How could she do this to me, to us?

She's probably seeing every expression on my face that I'm experiencing. I'm not trying to hide it. Anger, confusion, heartbreak, regret, despair. But she's not reacting to any of it.

Surely this is a joke or else I'm the fucking joke? How could I have been so stupid?

My brain can't keep up with my body because before I can even realise it, I throw myself out from under the duvet cover. A couple of her discarded clothes lay in a pool by my feet as I swing them out of the bed. Picking them up, I throw them towards her on the bed behind me.

She still says nothing.

"You've got some fucking nerve, you know that right?" I spit as I begin to charge around the room, finding any of her belongings that I can and throwing them in her direction.

"Excuse me?"

My head snaps around in the direction of the bed, almost instinctively, as I try not to laugh at the surprise in her voice. Our eyes make contact and she flinches at the anger so prominent on my face.

"You're kidding me, right?"

But she's not joking. No, she still has this innocent look on her face, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I don’t understand," she mutters.

I scoff as I continue to pace around the room, not being able to listen to this any more.

"I get it, [Y/N]," he growls. [Y/N] flinches at my tone, cowering further under the duvet. "You got your wish. You finally got your husband to notice that you exist and for him to pretend like he even cares about you. He's finally going to stop fucking other girls for you. Congratulations. I'm really happy for you."

"No, you've misunderstood," [Y/N] pleads but I dismiss her.

"You know, if you wanted me to just fuck you once as revenge for your husband, I would have been more than happy to. But this sick game you've played, making me fall in love with you. I don't know how you can look at yourself in the mirror," I continue, spit almost spraying out of my mouth from the anger.

I didn't even notice [Y/N] climb out of the bed until I feel her hand gently on my arm.

"Charles, it's not like that. I'm not," she begins but she stops once I pull my arm away from her.

"Get off me," I mumble but she ignores me. Her hand finds it's way onto my arm once again.

"Charles, listen to me," she squeals but it's no use, I have no capacity for her excuses or lies any more.

"I said get off me," I growl, this time a little louder and she takes the blatant hint but she won't stop talking.

"Charles, you've got it all wrong".

I turn around to face her as my eyes bore through her skin with nothing but anger and hatred. Venom is brewing inside of me as she looks up at me with tearful eyes. A couple have spilled over onto her cheeks. Looking at her like this, it breaks me. It fucking hurts but all I can think about is what she's put me through and I have to push my sympathy aside.

"No, [Y/N], the only thing I've gotten wrong is trusting you. You know what, you and Lewis are made for each other. Users, liars and cheaters, that's what you are".

I think I've gone too far. Shit, that was too far but as I watch her burst into tears and try to grab onto me, pleading with me to stop and that it's all a big mistake, I know I can't take it back now.

I don't want to do this what I do next, but I can't stop myself.

"My friends were right about you," it's the first time since she's broken the news that she's moving to New York where there hasn't been anger in my voice. I almost find myself wincing at the look on [Y/N]'s face as my words cut her deeply. I've hit an insecurity of hers. My friends never trusted her. How could I ever trust someone so open to cheating on their husband? They thought I was a moron. They'd always questioned her story, was this entire story of Lewis being a cheating asshole even real? Was it just her excuse for me to so willingly sleep with her?

Honestly, I don't know. I don't even know what's really any more.

She sniffles, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "You really think that, Charles?"

No, I don't.

"I think... I think you should leave".

It takes her a moment before she nods. Picking the clothes up from the bed, that I'd thrown at her, she begins to put them onto her body which is now trembling.

Part of me is telling me that I'm being stupid, that it's all a mistake. I can't bare to watch her get ready and leave, almost accepting defeat.

I take one last look at her before leaving my bedroom and making my way to the living room. I won't watch her walk out of that door, because if I do, I think I'll try to stop her.

As I wait on the sofa, staring at the wall opposite me, I feel like I can hear my heart breaking into pieces, one by one. And it's only when I heard the front door close, that they all finally shatter at once.

*Present Day*

I can't tell you how many times I had thought about this day over the last three years. At least once a day. No word of a lie. My final moments with [Y/N] infiltrated every part of my life. Every time I went to bed, I had thought about her and her betrayal. Almost every day that I woke up, I felt the weight on my chest from the memory of her tears on that very day. She even appeared in my dreams, where that day never happened and went on to live our happily ever after. And more often than that, she appeared in my nightmares.

My mind was constantly taunting me and it didn't help that my best friends kept reminding me of my many mistakes and my poor errors in judgement but worst of all, how shitty of a person they had thought [Y/N] was. And while I wanted to agree with them, deep down I felt like this all had to be a lie. Because after everything that we had gone through, surely she couldn't have been faking it.

But when one day, a few months later, when Joris came home from a date with Whitney, he almost couldn't wipe the smile off his face. He had news to share.

"You don't have to worry about her any more," he told me, "she's gone now."

I tried to ignore the pain that I felt in my chest. I couldn't show Joris any more how badly this affected me. He'd been going ballistic at me for weeks already. "She moved then?"

"Yeah, Whitney said she went last Friday," Joris could hardly contain his happiness. "It's about time. Now you can move on and forget about her."

I nod as if I'm I'm agreeing with the idea of moving on. And I try, but it's just not enough because everything in London reminds me of her. I feel suffocated here and so I spend a few weeks back home in Monaco, but my mother senses that something is wrong and wants to get to the bottom of my moodiness and so I decide that maybe being back in Monaco won't give me the peace that I need right now.

But then, out of the blue, an old childhood friend on mine, Pierre, messages to say he'll be in Monaco that weekend and we meet up. Pierre felt like a guardian angel at the time, not that I would ever tell him that, but spending a weekend in Monaco with him felt refreshing to spend some time with someone who wasn't his family, wasn't his friends back in London or anyone who had some sort of connection to [Y/N].

And after not seeing each other for years, Pierre and I kept in touch, which ultimately led me to move to Paris. I thought it would help you know, make me forget about her.

In some ways it helped, I no longer had nightmares about her. I still often fell asleep to the thought of her, and I still woke up thinking about her. My chest began to feel less heavy as time passed. And it almost began to feel like she wasn't real any more because she was no longer in the same country or even on the same continent.

She was gone, and she was never coming back to me.

The only time she had ever felt real was when I was sleeping with other girls. I went on some kind of sex rampage when I moved to Paris, finding any girl possible to occupy my mind and body with but clearly it wasn't working. As I fucked them, I sometimes imagined that they were her, and that it was her that was in my arms again, it was her that was trembling and moaning beneath me. But it wasn't her, it was never her.

Until now.

I've never really believed in fate, but I'm finally starting to believe that it's a funny thing. I will never forget the feeling I had felt when Pierre had shown me her picture. Out of all the three billion women in the world, he'd set me up with my ex, if I could even call her that.

And it felt like my time had come, for redemption, for revenge and for some answers. Because now, after all this time, she's real again. She's in Paris and she's here. It was time.

But now, after last night, I'm beginning to question everything, because every part of my life for the last three years has been a total lie.

[Y/N] had never betrayed me and I don't know how to feel about it all.

My running thoughts are interrupted by my phone pinging on the beside table. I take a moment to stretch out before rolling over to see the message that's on my phone.

"So did you fuck or not?'

I can't help but laugh at Pierre's message.

"Morning to you too"

"Morning, did you fuck or not?'

'I don't kiss and tell, Pierre".

'Liar! So you fucked then. Congratulations'

Before I can even respond, Pierre texts again.

'Jokes aside, what do you think? Do you want to see her again?'

[shark0zu]

JJK boys having a crush on u (pt. 2)

(credit to chosolala for the original)

pair: JJK boys x gn! reader  warning: some suggestive content (maybe) and curse words. ft: Sukuna, Shiu, Yuji, Megumi and Ino. content: JJK men being confused tbh

an: this is pt. 2- pt. 1 will be linked below so enjoy 

w/c: 1k

JJK boys having a crush on u (pt. 1)

SUKUNA— » realistically he would never have a crush- let’s be for real- but for the sake of this- he will have one (on you). he does have many concubines, but he’s never had any sort of feelings towards them- like, never. he sees them as non-important aspects in his life, but you seem to be different for some reason. » old man does not know anything about ‘crushing’ or being into someone. just (physically) crushing someone or killing them. there is a difference- he just doesn't know it (not yet at least). » one day he goes up to you and asks, “what is this feeling i have when i see you?” genuinely confused- he was being so deadass, he continued, “my chest hurts sometimes, my stomach does some weird flip things- and i sometimes feel my face get warm.” he finishes and looks at you dead serious while asking. » you end up explaining what he was feeling after you laughed at him a bit for not knowing. once he understood what he was feeling he denied it at first, but then (eventually) came to terms with it.

SHIU— » how did you guys meet? work partners, worked on a job together and since then, you guys got paired up together a lot. gradually both Shiu and you got closer and closer. he definitely is looking for a partner… a loving partner that is. » once he figures that out- (that he likes you/has a crush on you) he begins to make a ‘plan’. ‘how to make them like me back’ was the plan name, he wrote the steps and everything on a lil’ notepad to keep track of the things he's done, this man took that notepad with him everywhere. » one day you find this notepad unattended at his desk and curiosity gets the better of you. looking through the pages you stumble upon his ‘plan’ and you find it endearing to put it simply. you decide to play dumb and act as if you never even saw the notepad at all. » once all the steps to his carefully well done plan were met, he decided to take you out on a date- where you confess to the fact that you knew all along about this ‘plan’ of his. with an embarrassed grin and a chuckle he confesses his feelings, you of course reciprocating them.

YUJI— » he will be forward about his crush- or at least very open about it. won’t exactly say it to your face, but will tell Megumi and Nobara about it, rather loudly, enough for you to hear him (at least he thinks you heard him… he hopes). » he is of course oblivious as well, first not really knowing that he even had a crush on you? he thought you were just really really good friends. it took all the patience out of Nobara to explain it enough to show him the difference between a friendship and a romantic relationship. » once he comes to said conclusion, he decides to wait it out a bit- even though he is very forward with his feelings- he was a bit scared to fuck it up, not really wanting AT ALL to ruin the friendship you had stablished with him already. » but he shook that thought out of his head and after some time he decided to tell you- in his own lil’ way and properly this time (after Megumi told him that just yelling it isn’t a real good idea).

MEGUMI— » much (not) like either of his dads (Toji and Gojo [not as a ship]) at all, he indeed knows how to handle a crush, even if it is a rare sight for him to even have one, let alone said crush being a close friend of his- that being you. » scared of ruining the friendship he has with you already, he decides to play the waiting game. you say you have feelings for him first or he runs out of patience and tells you his feelings or he simply loses them or waits it out (only one has a good outcome). » of course, in the end… his patience ran out and he wanted to tell you straight up. he asked you out in his own way, in private- with no ears or eyes (aka. Yuji, Nobara and Gojo) to hear or watch him get all flustered while confessing. » once he confessed, you confessed as well. he asked why you didn’t say anything beforehand instead of making him embarrassed himself in front of you, to which you replied with the same question, ‘why didn’t you confess earlier?’. safe to say he was happy that you reciprocate his feelings nonetheless.

INO— » everybody knows he has a crush on you, but apparently he has not the slightest clue himself. this poor fellow really is oblivious to his own damn feelings and apparently so are you cuz you dont even notice them either. » he knows he likes you- i mean, he likes spending time with you, likes talking to you, likes going shopping with you, listening to music with you… all the good things in life. he knows all this yet he thinks it's just a ‘friend thing’, he thinks he does that with all his friends but really he only does all that and more with you and only you. » one day Nanami (poor man) goes up to Ino and asks him directly. Ino, not knowing what to say just gets flustered and all the little gears on his head start turning, things start going into place and the connections have all been made. “Ohhhhhh.”, he says, basically face palming his dumbass for well- being a dumbass. » next thing you know he is at your doorstep with some flowers, your favorite sweets and lil note (courtesy of Nanami). You open the door to a very happy Ino ready to spill the beans on how much he likes you and that he is kinda dumb for not noticing his own feelings, later turning it to you for being as oblivious as him.

Masterlist

[celestelunia]

Hiii, could I get a fic with Riddle x Reader, where he rejects the reader really rudely and she kinda distances herself from him for a long time, anytime she sees him she runs away or pretends like she doesn’t see him. Riddle starts to regret his rejection because he realizes he loves her and tries really hard to get her back because he thought she was going on a date with someone. Sorry if it’s really long, have a good day🫶

Ooo! Some angst!

This wasn't long at all, and thank you for the request!

Hope you like it. 🫶

Since you didn't specify if the reader got together with Riddle in the end, I wrote 2 different ends lol

Warnings: angst

"My apologies. What was that?" Riddle asked with a look of disbelief and confusion on his face. When you had asked him to talk, this was the last thing he was expecting.

"I said...." You said sounding a bit timid as the courage you had a moment ago disappeared. "...I like you. More than just friends."

Riddle just stared at you as silence surrounded the both of you. Why would you say that? Why would you ruin the relationship that both of you already had? Weren't things good enough between you both without adding romance into the mix?

"I can't believe this." Riddle whispered as he closed his eyes. He was busy with school and clubs. Dating wasn't something in his list of things to deal with during his school life. "Surely, you must be confused about your feelings for me? The line between friends and lovers can be thin with this kind of thing." He explained with a sigh. "We have other things we should be putting our energies into. Last time I checked, you could spend some more time studying for some of your classes. Rule number-"

You stood there in shock and surprised as you listened to Riddle ratter on about your feelings towards him. You honestly couldn't believe what you were hearing. Was he really questioning YOUR own feelings like they were his own? He even had the nerve to bring up your grades!

"O-okay." Was all you managed to get out as you felt your heart breaking.

Riddle paused in his rant when he heard you speak up. He watched as you turned around and left his room without another word or a glance in his direction.

"I'm sure things will go back to normal once she rests on it." He muttered before walking towards his desk to study.

You had spent that night crawled up in your bed as you cried yourself to sleep. Riddle had always been there to help you when you needed it. While he had a temper, you knew he wasn't a bad person. You knew his mother was the main cause of why Riddle was so tightly wound, but you took it with a gain of salt since you liked him.

To think he would shoot you down so hard without even considering your feelings. Did the time you two spend together mean nothing? Was this really a one-sided thing?

"I'm such an idiot...." You whimpered out as you cried until you passed out from the exhaustion.

It had been a month since Riddle last had a conversation with you. While he saw you around school, he couldn't get you alone to talk. You stopped coming by Heartslabyul after that day, and anytime he called out to get your attention, he would watch you rush away from him like he was some kind of overblotted monster.

He knew you could be sensitive, so the house warden decided that you just needed more space.

Three more months went by, and Riddle was starting to miss you. You still wouldn't give him the time of day and he couldn't understand why. Things were fine before, so why couldn't you just go back to how things were? To when things weren't...like this.

"Hey, Goldfish!" Floyd grinned as he spotted his favorite toy as he made his way towards Riddle.

"Leave me alone, Floyd." Riddle said as he wasn't in the mood to deal with the annoying eel.

"Oh, come on!" The teal haired eel grinned as he leaned down and threw his arm over Riddles' shoulder. "I have some news that might catch your attention.~"

Riddle groaned as he tried to free himself from Floyd's hold.

"There is a rumor going around that little Y/N is seeing someone from Pomefiore." Floyd said as he watched Riddle freeze up. "Just thought you might find this bit of information interesting." He grinned playfully as Floyd noticed a new look on the red heads face.

Pomefiore? Seeing someone? Like... romantically? Riddle's mind raced as a sinking feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. Nothing had been right since that day. He thought things would go back to normal, but they never did.

The image of you happily chatting with a Pomefiore student crossed his mind as he pictured you out on a date with someone who wasn't him.

At that thought, Riddle's eyes went wide. What? He didn't like you like that, did he?

Floyd grinned as he released Riddle from his hold and spun around. "Catch you later, Goldfish." He said before walking down the hall. With the look on Riddle's face, he got the feeling that change was on the horizon.

"I..." Riddle whispered as he paid no attention to Floyd as he left. Was he really this blind? He had been caught up in his own stress and worries that he didn't even realize what he had right in front of him.

Over the next couple of weeks, the members in Heartslabyul noticed a change in their house warden. He seemed distracted and distant. Trey and Cater tried to talk with him, but no matter what they tried, they couldn't get Riddle to open up. It wasn't like they didn't notice the sudden disappearance of Y/N, and they both knew that his sudden change had something to do with her. All they could do was wait till their friend was ready to talk about it.

Riddle walked down the hallway as his gaze looked around for his target. He was tired of moping and feeling guilty. The constant need to see you, hear your laugh, and to just be NEAR you again was all he craved. All he wanted. He was a fool. An idiot. He loved Y/N. That was the only explanation for these feelings inside of him. Riddle wanted nothing more than to go back in time and fix his mistake! To tell you he felt the same..

As he rushed down the hallways, his bluish-gray eyes landed on your form in the school yard. "Y/N." He whispered as he turned to make his way out into the yard.

Once he was outside, Riddle jogged as he tried to find you. Spotting your figure sitting on a bench with a book in your hand, he rushed over. He thought about calling out to you, but he didn't want you to run from him.

As you read your book, a sudden shadow fell over the words, causing you to look up and notice the one person you had been avoiding. As you closed your book, you went to stand but stopped when Riddle called your name.

"Y/N." Riddle whispered as he looked torn on what he wanted to say. He had everything planned out on what he wanted to say, but now that you were in front of him, he had nothing. It was all gone. "I-"

"Why are you here?" You asked coldly, which caused Riddle to flinch.

"I..." Riddle said as he clinched his fists. Why was this so hard!? "I'm sorry." He said before looking at you. "I made a...mistake."

When you said nothing, Riddle decided to continue.

"I was confused and overwhelmed that day. That's not an excuse for what I said and did, but I..." Riddle whispered as he trailed off. "...I've realized I made a mistake. I miss you. I miss...us. When I heard you were seeing someone from Pomefiore, it hit me. My feelings and why I've been so frustrated over these last few months. I don't want you to be with someone else. I don't want to lose you! I like you, and I was a fool to even question you that day." Riddle said as he confessed all of his pent-up feelings.

--Angst ending--

"It's too late, Riddle." You said as you stood up from the bench. "I loved you, but you didn't feel the same. I'm guessing you only came to his realization because you heard about me moving on, and I have."

Riddle frowned as he looked down at the ground. He knew there was a chance this wouldn't work, but he wanted to believe he could still make things right.

"You hurt me. I cried, and I've moved on. I've found someone who puts me first and is happy to explore these feelings with me." You said, trying to keep your voice even. "I can't go back to how things used to be. I just can't Riddle. I'm sorry." You said before walking past him as you did your best to stay strong and not cry. You made a promise to yourself that you wouldn't cry over him anymore.

Riddle stood alone in the school yard as he noticed a couple of drops of water fall to the ground near his feet. What was this?

Realizing he was crying, the house warden placed his arm over his eyes as he cried. This was a mistake he could never fix, and now he had to live with it. Without Y/N.

--Happy End--

When you didn't respond, Riddle felt himself start to panic. Were you going to reject him like he did to you that day? Was this what he made you go through? It was horrible!

"You hurt me, Riddle." You said after a moment as you looked down at the book on your lap. You had to admit you really missed him, but you couldn't bring yourself to come crawling back to him after what he did. You were better than that.

"I know, and I'm really sorry." Riddle said as he knelt down to be eye level with you. "I was an idiot and I wish I could take it back. All of it. I only realized what I had after I lost it. After I lost you..." he said before he slowly reached out and placed his hand on top of yours that was resting against your book. "I want to be with you. I don't want to continue my life without you. I know you are seeing someone in Pomefiore, but I can't - "

"I'm not seeing anyone." You whispered as you cut Riddle off. Was there something going around about you seeing someone?

"Y-your not?" Riddle asked as you could almost hear the relief in his voice.

He watched as you shook your head no. Letting out a sigh of relief, the red head reached up and placed both of his hands against your cheeks to make you look at him.

"I know I don't deserve it, but please give me another chance." Riddle asked. "Let me make this up to you. I want to make things right."

"You...mean it?" You asked as you felt your eyes burn with fresh tears. You missed him, and no matter how much you tried to forget Riddle, you just couldn't. He was so deep in your heart that you just couldn't. You loved him. Faults and all.

"Yes!" Riddle said as he gently ran his thumb over your cheeks as he wiped away your tears. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I must."

At his words, you let out a soft laugh as you tried to stop crying. To think this was really happening.

"How about we go out this weekend?" Riddle asked.

"M-mm." You nodded as you felt Riddle pull you into a hug.

"I love you, Y/N. Thank you for giving me another chance." Riddle whispered against your ear.

The darkness you felt over the last few months started to disappear as you felt a warmth replace it. "I love you too." You replied as you tightened your hold on him. He had a lot to make up to you, but this was a really good start.

Standing behind a pillar not far from Y/N and Riddle stood the twins from Octavinelle.

"How very unlike you to get involved in such a thing." Jade said with his signature smile.

"Eh. Goldfish is no fun to play with when he is all down and junk." Floyd said as he turned to leave the school yard. "But now I have something else to tease him on!" He said with a grin as he looked forward to tomorrow.

Jade just let out a soft chuckle as he followed after his brother.

[whosscruffylooking]

The Purest Things: Business or Pleasure (Pleasure is My Business)

Aaron Hotchner x Fem! Reader Word Count: 5k Warnings: Discussions of cheating. Death. Mention of suicide (brief). The Purest Things Masterlist

au! february 2009

Bookend: “I think we're all monsters deep down, if we're pushed to that extent. Maybe if I felt like he was my father I could hate him. How could I hate a man that was just a stranger to me?”― Amina Khan

Aaron sits at his desk, his eyes fixed on the small screen of his laptop. He watches the latest video Haley emailed him, a home video of Jack. His son rides his bike in the driveway, his little words breaking through the microphone as he mumbles, “Hello, daddy,” before turning to the camera to give a big, crooked grin. Seeing him makes Aaron’s heart swell, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

The moment is interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Aaron sighs and answers, “Hotchner.”

“Agent Hotchner, this is Patrick Jackson, Attorney General down in Texas. I’ve got a case here in Dallas, and your director thought you might be the person for a consult,” the voice on the other end announces.

Aaron sits up straighter, intrigued. “Could you send the details to Jennifer Jareau, our liaison?”

“We were hoping not to include the whole team, sir,” Jackson replies, his tone firm but polite.

“Only me?” Aaron’s brow furrows. “What’s the reason for that, sir?”

“There’s another agent your director recommended. Apparently, she wrote an award-winning essay on the exact type of case we have on our hands,” Jackson explains.

Aaron looks over at you, who’s working peacefully across the bullpen, then back at his desk. “Could you send details about the case or the Unsub?” he asks, his gaze drifting back to you momentarily.

“You’ll both be briefed on the ground,” Jackson answers, his voice dropping slightly. “Besides, it’s not the unsub you need to worry about, Aaron. It’s the lawyers. How soon can you be here?”

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

Aaron approaches you at your desk, kneeling so only you can hear what he says.

“Attorney General in Dallas just called,” he starts, his voice cautious and direct. “We have a case, but they’ve requested that you and I are the only ones who go.”

You look up at him, tilting your head slightly in confusion. “Why us and not the rest of the team?”

Aaron leans in closer, his tone more serious now. “We aren’t just dealing with an unsub. We’re dealing with lawyers. The Attorney General mentioned that one of your published essays is why they want you on the job. I’ll handle the lawyers.”

You can’t help the grin that tugs at your lips, imagining the two of you heading out on a trip just like that. But you quickly mask it with a professional air. “Mysterious. I like it. I’m in.”

“Did you ever have a choice?” he teases, a smirk crossing his face as he stands, stepping back.

“Wheels up in 30!” He calls back over his shoulder, his stride light and purposeful, as if he’s suddenly recharged.

You gather your things, already mentally preparing for the trip, but something about how Aaron moved, so different than usual, makes you wonder what lies ahead.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

The plane ride is more hushed than usual, the whirr of the engines filling the space between you and Aaron. There’s something about being out of the office, away from the chaos of the BAU, that makes him feel more approachable, less like the unshakable leader he is back at work.

Aaron glances up from the book he is reading, his eyes meeting yours briefly before he looks away, the faintest trace of a smile bending on his lips.

“You alright?” he asks softly, unsure of the answer.

You nod, offering a smallish smile. “Yeah. Just thinking. It’s a bit different; just the two of us are handling this one.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, a tiny chuckle escaping him. “I’m used to having the whole team behind me.”

You feign offense, raising an eyebrow. “So I’m not enough, huh?”

He turns to you, his lips quirking up at the edges in that half-smile that’s become so familiar, but there’s more to it now. “You’re more than enough,” he says, his voice more subdued than usual. The words linger between you, and your heart skips a beat.

He shifts slightly in his seat, straightening up as if trying to shake off the tension that just crept into the moment. Clearing his throat, he adds, “They wouldn’t have asked for you specifically if you weren’t.”

You don’t trust yourself to say anything in response. Instead, you focus on not letting your cheeks betray the slight blush that’s starting to creep up your neck.

Aaron pauses momentarily, almost as if he’s weighing his following words. Then, slightly shifting his posture, he grabs his laptop from the seat beside him and opens it up. “I thought you might like to see something.”

You look at him curiously. “What’s that?”

Aaron opens a video file and taps the play button. Almost immediately, the screen comes to life with a small boy, clearly Jack, riding a bike down a quiet street. His concentration is comically intense as he maneuvers the bike, his little legs pumping furiously. Then, Jack stops, looks directly at the camera, and waves with the enthusiasm only a child could manage.

“Hello, Daddy!” Jack says, his words a mix of excitement and determination.

You can’t help but smile at the sight, your heart warming as you watch the innocence of the moment. Aaron’s face softens, the strain in his shoulders relaxing as he watches Jack. There’s a quiet pride in his expression, but also something else—vulnerability, maybe. A yearning.

“He’s growing up fast,” you say, your voice almost in awe.

Aaron nods, not looking at you, his attention on the video. “Every day.”

You know that, even amidst this case and all the pressure and tension in the air, Aaron would do anything to ensure that Jack is safe and happy. 

You give him a grateful smile. “I’m glad you showed me. He’s a good kid.”

Aaron’s expression eases again, though his eyes remain distant, as if the weight of fatherhood is never far from his mind.

“We’ll get through this case,” you say quietly, your tone more reassuring than anything. “And you’ll get back to him. Soon.”

Aaron sighs, eager to push down the emotions rising in him.

“So,” he stretches out, “Which essay do you think caught their attention?”

You think momentarily, then answer, “I have no idea. If lawyers are involved, that narrows it to " A Study in Familial Upbringing and Serial Killers, " " The Black Widow—A Guide to the Femme Fatale, " and " The Phantom Killers of Law Enforcement.”

Aaron smiles slightly, looking over at you with a hint of admiration in his eyes.

“You know,” he says, “my favorite was always A Study in Familial Upbringing and Serial Killers. It really nails the link between trauma and behavior. Most people overlook the deeper psychological effects of family dynamics on someone’s path to becoming an offender.”

You blink, surprised. “Wait, you’ve read it?”

He giggles, the corners of his mouth turning up. “I’ve read all of them. Your work has always stood out, not just because it’s insightful. There’s an understanding in your writing that most people miss.” He pauses, watching your reaction. “I’m not surprised they called you for this case.”

You sit back, trying to process the compliment, your mind racing. “I didn’t realize you’d actually read them,” you admit, feeling flustered.

Aaron grins, his voice calmer now. “You’ve got a way with words. And with people, too.”

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

You follow Aaron and the Attorney General, Patrick, into a dimly lit hotel room where a hedge fund manager lies lifeless on the ground. His controversial public persona had made headlines for years, and now his lawyers are trying to classify his death as a suicide.

Aaron steps toward the body, his keen eyes scanning the scene. He picks up a small pack of pills from the nightstand, holding them up. “Well… most men don’t take Viagra before they kill themselves.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. His eyes flick to yours as he purses his lips in amusement. He seems more relaxed and less rigid than usual. It’s a side of him you don’t often get to see, and you can’t help but enjoy it.

“Does he have a wife?” Aaron continues, his tone shifting back to business.

“At home with the kids,” Patrick answers.

“So… mistress or prostitute?” you question, folding your arms as you survey the scene.

Patrick hesitates before speaking, lowering his voice. “What I’m about to tell you is confidential information. It’s not to be included in any reports.” He glances between you and Aaron. “Every Wednesday, Ashford withdrew $10,000 in cash from one of his accounts. Today was no different.”

“A high-end prostitute,” you speak with a wry smile.

“Femme fatale,” Aaron interjects smoothly.

Patrick frowns. “What?”

Aaron doesn’t miss a beat, his tone calm yet proud. “It’s her article. The Black Widow—A Guide to the Femme Fatale. We wondered which essay made you insist on her being here personally.”

You glance at him, caught off guard by the subtle compliment. His confidence in you, his way of praising you without overdoing it, sends a flicker of warmth through you.

You smirk, meeting his eyes with admiration.

“Your director sang your praises, Agent Y/L/N,” Patrick says, his tone matter-of-fact but laced with urgency. “That’s exactly why I wanted the two of you here first. I understand you’ll most likely need to call in the rest of your team, but I’ve got three judges and a state senator breathing down my neck, asking if I’m sure I even have a case. When you start poking around this type of woman, this type of lifestyle, people get edgy—start calling in favors.”

He looks pointedly between you and Aaron. “Having a former prosecutor turned FBI agent will give me the credibility I need with these judges. And a decorated student of law who specialized in the study of prostitutes turned killers? Together, you can present an airtight case. I just needed confirmation that there’s something solid here before I put my neck on the line.”

"You don't think this is her first time, do you," You question him.

He shakes his head, "We think this may be the second."

Aaron gives him a curt nod, his tone steady. “We need a room for my team to set up, and I will need all of your evidence and case files.”

Patrick shakes both hands, and the three of you part ways. Aaron heads for his room while you check in at the front desk.

On his way up, Aaron steps into the elevator with a young woman, sharply dressed and clearly prepared for business. She offers him a polite smile and strikes up small talk—complimenting his tie, asking if he’s in town for work.

Under any other circumstances, a single man might be flattered and might even enjoy the attention of an attractive stranger. But Aaron’s mind stays elsewhere, focused on the case…and you.

As the woman speaks, he nods politely, responding in clipped but courteous sentences. He barely notices how her eyes linger because all he can think about is your quick wit earlier, how you effortlessly caught on to his subtle praise, and how your smirk stayed in his mind longer than it should have.

When the elevator dings and the woman steps out, Aaron realizes he hasn’t heard half of what she said. His thoughts had already returned to the case…and to you.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

You knock softly on Aaron’s door, leaning against the frame as you wait for him to answer. The case is already heavy on your mind, and the prospect of debriefing the team feels both necessary and strangely pacifying. A moment later, the door opens, and Aaron stands there, tie loosened, shirt sleeves rolled up, looking more comfortable than expected.

“Come in,” he says, stepping aside to let you in.

You enter, noticing his laptop open on the desk and files spread across the bed. His meticulous nature is evident in how everything is neatly organized, even in the chaos of an ongoing case.

“I thought we could call the team together,” you suggest, holding up your phone.

Aaron motions toward the bed. “Sit,” he says simply, a gesture that surprises you with its casualness but also warms you. You perch on the edge as he connects your phone to a group conference with the team, who are already en route on the jet.

“We thought you two ran off together,” Rossi teases, his voice rich with amusement.

Aaron glances at you, a little shy smirk tugging at his lips. You return it with a raised brow, trying not to laugh.

“We’re dealing with an apparent female serial killer,” Aaron begins, steering the conversation back to the case. “She has the perfect way to lure her victims—she’s a prostitute.”

You can’t resist. “Perfect, huh?” you quip, the corner of your mouth twitching.

Aaron turns to you with a glare that’s as much exasperation as it is fondness.

“I wish I could see Hotch’s face right now,” Derek chimes in from the other line, clearly enjoying himself.

Without missing a beat, Aaron shifts gears. “I’m going to let Y/L/N lead this briefing. She’s done extensive research in this field.” He hands the phone to you without hesitation, his steady look encouraging you to take over.

Caught off guard but emboldened by his trust, you nod and begin. “Female serial killers are a fascinating field. We don’t have as much data on them as their male counterparts, but we know that they don’t follow traditional patterns. For instance, signature behavior—what we often expect from male killers—isn’t as common. They don’t usually torture or take trophies. There’s no sexual gratification involved. For them, the act of murder itself is the goal.”

The team listens intently, their usual banter replaced by thoughtful silence. As you speak, you feel Aaron’s eyes on you, the subtle weight of his attention both grounding and encouraging.

When you finish, there’s a pause before Rossi’s voice breaks the silence. “Well, sounds like we’ve got the right person on the ground for this one.”

Derek follows up light-heartedly, “Yeah, no pressure or anything.”

You glance at Aaron, who’s watching you with a quiet pride. You’ve come a long way from the uncertain rookie you were a year ago, and in this moment, you can feel his faith in you as clearly as if he’d said it out loud.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

A lawyer from one of the victim’s law firms provides the breakthrough you’ve been waiting for—a penthouse address tied to the suspect. It’s the lead that finally puts you within reach of her.

You follow closely behind your team as they breach the apartment, weapons raised, ready for anything. The tension is thick in the air as you move through the luxurious space, each of you carefully searching for any trace of her—or the evidence she’s left behind.

“Found anything?” Aaron steps close to you as you examine the bookshelves. His voice is low, the kind he uses when he’s focused but calm.

“Antique first editions,” you say, a note of awe in your voice. Your fingers glide along the spines reverently.

“You recognize any of them?” he asks, his curiosity genuine.

You nod, peeking back at him. “Most of them. I’ve dreamed of getting my hands on some of these for years.”

He watches you as you take in the sight, captivated by your enthusiasm. Your knowledge and passion never fail to impress him; he finds it hard to look away in moments like this.

“Nothing here is identifiable,” Spencer says from across the room, searching methodically. “No pictures, no personal artifacts. Her lifestyle is entirely disposable.”

“These aren’t just for show,” you say, picking up one of the books. “The spines are cracked. The pages are fraying. Somebody’s read these. These books were lived in.”

“Who reads Voltaire in French?” Aaron asks, leaning slightly over your shoulder. His close proximity sends an unspoken electricity through the air, making your stomach flutter.

“Someone with good taste,” you reply, shutting the book with a quiet snap and holding it close to his face. Your raised eyebrow carries a teasing challenge.

Aaron doesn’t move, his gaze steady and unreadable, but there’s something behind his eyes—a flicker of intrigue he doesn’t let surface. You wonder what’s running through his mind.

What you don’t know is that he’s thinking about how much of a mystery you are���an enigma he finds himself drawn to more and more. Right now, he wants to crack that puzzle almost as much as he wants to solve the case…maybe even more so. 

The telephone begins to ring, and everyone gathers around it, tension thick in the air.

Spencer speaks up, confident but calculating, “Y/N should answer it. If it’s a customer, she’ll be able to get more information out of him.”

Aaron adds, “She’s done the research; she knows how to play the part.”

Your head snaps in his direction, eyes wide, and your heart skips a beat at the implication. His gaze locks with yours—intense, discreet—but a subtle curve at the corner of his mouth betrays his amusement. His hand covers his lips just enough to mask the smirk forming, but it does nothing to hide the flicker of something else in his eyes.

A heat rises in your stomach, and for a moment, you’re frozen. He wants you to play the part of a call girl—an assignment that’s more than just professional now, with how he looks at you. You try to push the thoughts away, but they linger, spinning in your mind.

“Get ready to answer,” Aaron urges.

Before you can react, the voicemail chimes through, followed by a haunting beep that hangs in the air.

“Aaron. I know you’re up there. Pick up. Aaron Hotchner,” her voice snaps, irritation building with each word.

Your heart stops as you glance at Aaron, his eyes already locked on yours. You’d be lying if you said hearing a prostitute call out his name didn’t twist something in your chest. 

He steps before you and answers, his voice smooth, “Hello? I’m at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

He keeps the phone off speaker, and his voice in the quiet room makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It’s like he’s playing a role; somehow, you’re unsure if you like it.

“Who says you can’t?” He speaks again, the question hanging in the air. Can’t what? You’re desperate to know but hold yourself back, trying to focus.

“No, it’s flattering to be noticed by a woman like you,” Aaron adds, his tone measured, polite—too polite. You find yourself tightening your grip on the table, heart racing. You try not to let the thought slip into your mind, but you can’t help it. A woman wanted by so many men, and she’s singled him out. You can’t help but wonder if he’d ever really appreciate the attention of another woman after his divorce. Would he? 

The thought makes you feel small. You cannot quite pinpoint why, however.

Rossi meets your eyes across the room, his gaze calm and understanding, a silent signal that it’s all part of the plan, that you shouldn’t get in your head about it. You know it’s just for show. He’s just playing a part. You swallow, trying to steady your breathing as you take a deep breath, but the discomfort lingers in your chest, a knot you can’t entirely untangle.

Aaron’s eyes meet yours, and in that moment, the tension building inside you starts to ebb away. The intensity of the conversation seems to soften, and something in his gaze reassures you, grounding you.

“But I’ve disappointed you, haven’t I?” he asks, his voice low. “Just like all the other men in your life, the ones who walked out on their families… the ones who deserve to be punished.”

His words hang in the air, but their weight doesn’t seem to reach you in the same way it might have before. You observe him as he bites his lip, his eyes momentarily avoiding yours, a flicker of susceptibility you seldom see.

“My wife left me,” he adds quietly, his words almost lost in the space between you.

“I have a son,” he says next, and now, you listen intently, feeling the gravity of his confession settle in.

He motions for you to come closer, and you find yourself leaning in, just enough for your bodies to brush. The proximity isn’t lost on either of you, and your heart skips a beat at the closeness, his warmth radiating beside you as he holds the phone so both of you can hear.

The woman’s voice comes through again, venomous and sharp. “But don’t compare yourself to the men I see. You are nothing like them. You’re just another whore.”

The words hit you harder than you expect, and your breath catches in your throat. You suppress a reaction, unsure whether to laugh or be appalled by her audacity. But Aaron? He seems unfazed, his calm demeanor a contrast to the sharpness in her tone.

“How am I a whore?” he asks, his voice mild, his eyes darting to you for a brief moment. In response, a smirk plays at the corner of your lips, his challenge to her feeling almost… familiar.

“You come when called. You do their bidding,” the woman spits back, her contempt evident.

You raise a hand, gesturing for him to keep pushing, knowing he’s getting closer to making her trust him. You can see that tiny crack in her armor starting to form.

“But I’m just frustrating you, aren’t I?” he presses, leaning in just a little closer.

“You just want me to disappear, just like they do,” she says, finally cracking. Her voice wavers, the walls she’s built around herself crumbling just a little.

Aaron doesn’t flinch, his tone smooth and unwavering. “You’ve been betrayed so many times, you don’t know who to trust. And that’s why that first murder felt so good. But each one since has been less and less satisfying. You know that’s going to continue, don’t you? Am I right?”

You can’t help but admire his skill—he’s unraveling her, piece by piece. The way he plays with her is almost hypnotic, pulling her deeper into the conversation. It’s like watching a master at work.

He continues, his voice calm and comforting, “Come to me and turn yourself in. I will make sure that you get the help you need. I won’t let you disappear.”

For a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would be like to hear those words from him, to be the one he promises to help. It’s a fleeting thought, but it catches you off guard. You shake it off, refocusing on the task at hand.

She responds, her voice softer now, almost regretful. “If we met under different circumstances… I could believe that.”

The words hang in the air, and for a second, you feel a sharp pang of something—jealousy? No, that can’t be right. But there’s something in her tone that feels like a threat and doesn’t sit right in your gut.

Just as the tension peaks, a gunshot rings out, loud and jarring. The phone call abruptly ends, leaving nothing but a harsh echo in the air.

Aaron stands still momentarily, his face hardening in shock and frustration. You watch him carefully, sensing the weight of the moment.

“You did good,” you whisper, trying to offer some comfort. But even to you, it’s clear—he feels defeated. You can see it in his eyes, the frustration of almost reaching her, only for it to slip away at the last second.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

Aaron walks over to you, a resolute look on his face. “What have you got?”

You hand him a picture of Megan Kane, your eyes scanning his reaction as Spencer fills him in on the details.

As Aaron studies the photo, a look of realization—and something more profound, like disappointment—washes over his face. You can’t help but notice the change in his expression.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, sensing something off.

He exhales sharply, his voice tinged with frustration. “I saw her two nights ago in the elevator of my hotel.”

You freeze, the pieces clicking together in an instant. You realize that’s where her infatuation with him started. The moment she set eyes on him. The thought makes your stomach tighten, but you push it aside. Focus on the case.

“Hotch,” you begin, your tone steady but firm, “Her father left her mother for a call girl and then completely cut her off. All of these victims are his surrogates. And you… you’re the one who challenges the narrative she’s placed on these men. You’re different. She will feel attached to you, seek you out for comfort.”

He processes your words, his expression unreadable, but the weight of the situation is evident in his silence.

You smirk slightly, recalling his earlier proposition. “If I can play the call girl, you can play the white knight.”

Mischief shows through his cheeks, but his eyes remain locked on yours, considering the strategy.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

You arrive at the hotel where Megan and her father are meeting. During the car ride, you briefed Aaron on everything he needed to do to keep Megan from panicking, ensuring every detail was covered.

As you rush through the lobby, Aaron turns to you, his brow furrowed slightly. “Are you coming with me?”

You stop and grab hold of his arm, steadying him. “White knight, remember?” you remind him. “She’d feel threatened if she saw you with another woman in tow.”

He pauses, the corners of his mouth lifting into a small, unexpected smile. “I’m sure most women would feel threatened by you.”

Your head tilts slightly, caught off guard by the compliment. You study his expression, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words, but his eyes are already focused ahead, his demeanor back to business.

Aaron rushes into the room with Morgan, quickly assessing the situation. Megan stands on the balcony, her demeanor fragile, her gaze distant. Inside, he spots her gun resting on the table.

“Easy,” Hotch signals to Morgan. “She knows it’s over.”

Morgan gives a curt nod before stepping back outside the hotel room, where the rest of you are waiting. He motions for you to go in quietly. You hesitate momentarily before slipping inside, careful to stay out of sight.

Hotch moves carefully onto the balcony, sitting across from Megan. He keeps his voice controlled and soothing.

“Nothing will change,” she says shakily, tears threatening to spill. “They’re just going to keep getting away with it.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” he reassures her, his tone resolute.

Her lips tremble as she looks at him. “Who was it who said, ‘You don’t pay a prostitute for sex. You pay her to leave afterward’?”

“Dashiell Hammett,” Hotch replies without missing a beat.

“It doesn’t make sense, though. The men always leave first,” she murmurs, reaching out for his fingers.

He hesitates for the briefest of moments but obliges, letting her clasp his hand. Your heart twists as you watch, a storm of emotions—intrigue, jealousy, and concern—swelling within you.

“How could your wife have ever left someone like you?” Megan’s voice cracks as she cries. “You’re the first man I ever met who didn’t let me down. Will you stay with me?”

“I promise you I will,” he says softly, the weight of his words wrapping her in fragile comfort.

She glances down, her breath hitching. “The woman you came in with…”

Hotch turns at the mention of your name.

“I looked her up,” Megan continues in a whisper, her voice fading. “She seems admirable.”

“She is,” Hotch says, his voice thick with emotion. He fights back tears, but his resolve remains steady.

Megan gasps, her body trembling as the poison she consumed earlier begins to take hold. The reality of the moment becomes too much for you. Quietly, you slip out of the room, unable to bear the sight any longer.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

The soft knock at your hotel room door startles you, though deep down, you already know who it is. You hesitate, your hand hovering over the handle, before finally opening it.

Aaron stands there, his tie loosened, and his shirt sleeves rolled up, looking as exhausted as you feel. His eyes meet yours, and neither of you speaks for a moment. The weight of the day lingers between you, heavy and unspoken.

“Can I come in?” he asks, his voice quieter than usual.

You step aside, nodding silently. He enters the room, his movements deliberate and slow, as if even the act of walking takes effort. You close the door behind him, the click echoing in the stillness.

“She didn’t deserve to die like that,” he says finally, his tone heavy. “But I keep telling myself there was nothing else we could do.”

You nod, understanding the burden he carries. “You did everything you could. You gave her comfort when no one else ever did.”

Aaron looks at you, his expression a mix of gratitude and gloom. “It wouldn’t have been possible without you. You saw her for who she really was. You understood her when no one else could.”

You swallow, unsure how to respond. His voice's vulnerability is rare, leaving you feeling both honored and uncertain of what to say.

“She asked about you,” he says after a pause, his eyes searching yours. “She said you seemed nice.”

You let out a soft, humorless laugh. “That’s a first from an unsub.”

Aaron’s lips twitch into a small, fleeting smile. “She wasn’t wrong.”

The room falls quiet again, but it’s not uncomfortable this time. There’s a mutual understanding in the silence, a shared familiarity that doesn’t need to be put into words.

“Do you want to sit down?” you finally ask, motioning to the chair by the small table.

He shakes his head. “I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you were okay.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Me? You’re the one who—” You stop yourself, sighing. “I’m fine. Really. I just… I don’t know how you do it. Carry all of this.”

Aaron steps closer, his presence grounding. “I have my moments,” he admits softly. “But having someone who understands… that helps.”

Your heart skips, unsure if it’s exhaustion or something else making you feel so exposed under his gaze.

“If you need anything,” he says, his voice low, “I’m right across the hall.”

“Thanks, Aaron,” you say, your voice fainter than you intended.

He pauses for a moment, as if there’s more he wants to say, but then nods and turns to leave. Just before he steps out, he glances back. “Try to get some rest. It’s been a long day.”

You watch the door close behind him, the space he leaves behind somehow feeling heavier than when he entered.

————————————————————

Taglist: @minkyungseokie

[aynavaano]

The Cuddle pile

The Bad Batch x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 2.5k

Summary:

You and your boys are on shore leave and you spend it like you always do, at your home, a tiny flat on Coruscant. You all lounge on the sofa watching a holomovie with varying states of interest. The last missions have been especially rough and when you finally get to relax you start feeling a bit unwell. Your boys notice and take good care of you.

Notes:

This is a quick completely self-indulgent comfort fic I mainly wrote for myself but sharing is caring so I hope some of you enjoy it too. Reader is in an established relationship with all four of the original Batch members (sorry Echo stans) This is mostly comforting fluff that I wrote on an evening when I was feeling down but there is a hint of smut delivered by Crosshair (oral f receiving) and a bit of grabby hands from the rest. This is maybe not my best work but the target audience was met (me, I was the target audience) also no beta on this one, we die like our hope for Techs return. NO CLONECEST

The holomovie flickers on the screen, casting shifting shadows across the dimly lit living room of your tiny apartment when a sense of fatigue begins to settle over you. The last few missions have taken their toll, leaving you drained, both physically and mentally. You shift uncomfortably on the sofa, trying to ignore the growing unease in your stomach.

Hunter is the first to notice your discomfort. He glances over at you, concern etched in his features.

"You alright cyar’ika ?" he asks, his voice tinged with worry.

You muster a weak smile and shrug, not wanting to alarm the others.

"Just feeling a bit off, that's all," you reply, hoping it is nothing serious.

Tech, turns his attention away from his datapad, looking up at you and Hunter, who pulled you onto his chest, where you nestled your head against him.

"What's happening?" he inquires, having heard only half of the conversation, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Hunter's gaze remains fixed on you as he explains.

"She’s not feeling well."

Tech's eyes widened in understanding before he turns to you.

"Would you like some tea? Maybe a hot water bottle?" he offers, already getting up to fetch the supplies.

Grateful for the offer, you nod eagerly.

"That sounds perfect, thanks, Tech," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wrecker, always happy to carry you around, pipes up from his spot on the sofa.

"You wanna go lie down mesh’la? Want me to put you to bed? Or a hot bath?" he suggests, his concern evident in his voice.

You nod again, feeling touched by their care and concern.

"Yeah, bed sounds great," you murmur and wiggle yourself out of Hunters embrace.

With a gentleness that only you experience with him, Wrecker scoops you up in his arms, effortlessly carrying you to your bedroom. The familiar comfort of the bed envelopes you as Wrecker lays you down gently, tucking the blankets around you with love and care.

It is a huge soft bed fitting all five of you, that you acquired after your relationship with the squad had evolved into something more serious and you all began to spend your shore leave together in your home.

Nestling around in the bed, you feel the weariness creeping in, your muscles aching with every movement. Summoning the last of your energy, you turn to him and murmur.

"Wrecker, could you grab the weighted blanket for me? I think it should be in the reading nook."

Wrecker smiles softly.

"Sure thing," he replies before bounding out into the living room in search of the coveted blanket.

Moments later, Tech enters the room, a steaming cup of your favorite tea in one hand and a hot water bottle in the other. He sets them down on the bedside table before turning to you, concern etched in his features.

"Need anything else?" he asks, his voice soft.

You hesitated for a moment before mustering up the courage to ask.

"Would you mind staying with me?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, filled with vulnerability.

Tech's response is immediate. With a small smile, he nods.

"Of course, I'm happy to, if that makes you feel better," he says, his eyes warm with affection.

Quickly, Tech strips off his shirt, knowing you like to feel the warmth of his skin against yours and settles into the bed behind you, letting you rest against his chest.

Just then, Crosshair pops into the room, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

"Heard you wanted a weighted blanket," he quips, his eyes dancing with amusement as he walks over towards you discarding the toothpick from his lips.

Before you can respond, Crosshair sheds his shirt just like Tech did and joins you on the bed, settling beside you with a playful smirk. With exaggerated movements, he drapes himself over you, mimicking the sensation of a weighted blanket.

You can’t help but laugh at his antics, feeling the tension melting away with each chuckle.

"Yeah, much better," you reply, a genuine smile gracing your lips as you snuggle deeper into the warmth of your makeshift blanket called Crosshair, stealing a kiss while you’re at it.

When Wrecker returns with the weighted blanket in hand, carrying it as it weighs nothing while you always struggle to pick it up, his eyes widen in excitement at the sight of the cozy cuddle pile forming on the bed.

"Didn’t know that was the plan! I wanna join too!" he declares with childlike enthusiasm, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

You chuckle warmly, patting the space beside you to indicate where he should settle. "Come on, big guy, plenty of room for you," you encourage, your voice filled with affection.

With a gleeful whoop, Wrecker wastes no time shedding his shirt and sweatpants, leaving him clad only in his boxers. Before jumping into the bed he calls out to Hunter, who is still in the living room, his voice echoing through the small flat.

"Hey Hunt, get over here unless you wanna be left out!"

You hear the holomovie going silent and moments later Hunter enters the room, drawn by Wrecker's summons, where he is greeted by the heartwarming sight of you all intertwined in a mass of limbs and cuddles. You are nestled in the middle, with Tech on one side and Crosshair on the other, their arms wrapped around you protectively.

A soft smile tugs at Hunter's lips as he quickly strips down to his boxers and approaches the bed, his heart swelling with affection for your connection.

Climbing onto the bed, he moves with a gentle grace, his movements speaking volumes of the love he holds for you. When he reaches your side, he leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, his touch conveying a depth of emotion beyond words.

Settling between your thighs, Hunter envelops you in his embrace, his hand reaching up to you, finding its way under your shirt and softly caressing your belly.

"I'm sorry I ruined the evening," you murmur, feeling a pang of guilt for disrupting the movie night.

Tech shakes his head.

"I didn't want to watch that movie anyway," he quips, offering you a reassuring smile.

Hunter's response is filled with warmth as he squeezes your hand gently.

"Spending the evening cuddled up with you in bed isn't exactly my definition of ruined," he says, his voice soft and sincere.

You can’t help but giggle at their reassurances, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

"You always take such good care of me, I already feel a bit better," you admit, grateful for their understanding and support.

“Just like you always take care of us mesh’la” Wrecker adds, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I’d know a way to make you feel even better”

Crosshair's smirk catches your attention, and you raise an eyebrow in curiosity at his suggestive comment, knowing all too well what he is up to, it’s Crosshair after all, but you decide to play along.

"Oh really?," you chuckle, catching his mischievous smirk.

"And what way might that be to make me feel even better?"

His smirk widens into a grin as he leans in closer.

"Well, let's just say I have a few ideas in mind," he teases, his tone suggestive yet playful before kissing you softly.

"Alright, Cross, surprise me," you say kissing him back, this time allowing his tongue to explore your mouth.

“Move over Hunter and let me put that position to good use, seems like you won’t”

Crosshair's playful command draws a collective chuckle from the group as Hunter obediently shifts from between your thighs, making room for Crosshair to take his place. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he settles in, his eyes not leaving yours.

He begins kissing your thighs softly and when he looks up at you, seeking confirmation, you meet his gaze with a mixture of anticipation and excitement. With a subtle nod, you silently give him permission to proceed, your heart racing.

With practiced ease, Crosshair slides your panties off, his touch feather-light yet electrifying against your skin.

“Would you mind helping her Hunter?” he hisses towards his brother.

Hunter, who’s been busy kissing and nibbling on your neck, moves to assist you, gently helping you out of your shirt with a tender caress, lovingly fondling your bare breasts as soon as they are free, his touch a soothing balm against the lingering ache of fatigue.

Crosshair's touch is different today, not intense and demanding, but gentle and tender as he begins to kiss his way down your belly. Positioned between your parted legs, his eyes burn with an intensity that betrays his soft touch, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs with feather-light kisses.

When he finally reaches your pussy and begins to kiss along your slick folds, his tongue licking long strokes from your entrance up to your clit, a low moan escapes your lips, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure racing down your spine.

Each languid stroke, each delicate flick of his tongue, is met with a chorus of sighs and gasps as he teases you, his movements slow and deliberate, worshiping you in a way so different to how he normally does with you.

When he feels you are wet and relaxed enough, he parts your swollen lips with a gentle push of his fingers, his touch igniting a wildfire of sensation that consumes your senses.

He slowly slides two fingers inside you and begins thrusting in and out, drawing lewd sounds from your lips.

“Thats it cyar’ika, let go, let me take care of you”

The way he stretches your walls and the vibration of his voice against your core makes you arch off the mattress, pushing yourself further onto his fingers. He intuitively responds, deepening his thrusts and curling his fingers up, seeking out your most sensitive spot.

Meanwhile, Hunter's lips find yours in a sloppy kiss, his touch tender yet hungry, as he explores the depths of your mouth with his tongue, muffling the moans and gasps Crosshair draws from you. His hands roam your body with a fervent hunger, tracing lazy circles across your skin, worshipping your body with every caress.

Beside you, Wrecker and Tech lavish attention on your breasts, their touch gentle yet firm as they take care of you.

Wrecker's fingers tease and torment your nipples, his touch sending jolts of electricity racing through your body, while Tech's skilled hands explore the contours of your breasts with a tender precision that leaves you trembling with need.

With the attention of all four of them and Crosshairs touch growing more urgent, his movements more insistent, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion, your body writhing with a desperate need for release.

“I’m …m…close,” you whimper between Hunters kisses.

You hear a few grunts and gasps around you as they watch you squirming under Crosshairs touch, eyes closed, back arched and your face blissfully flushed in the perfect shade of pink.

“Be a good girl and come for me”

Then he closes his lips around your throbbing clit, his tongue swirling around your sensitive bud with just the right amount of pressure and you feel yourself teetering on the edge, your body writhing with a desperate need for release. Each flick of his tongue, each gentle suckle of his lips, brings you closer, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you surrendered yourself completely.

With a final thrust of his fingers up towards that extra sweet spot, he pushes you over the edge, the tension snaps, your mind goes blissfully blank and you reach out grabbing a fistful of his hair, desperate for something to hold on to, while you ride out your high on his fingers.

His name falls from your lips like a prayer as you surrender yourself to the blissful oblivion of the orgasm he’s given you. He carefully draws his fingers from your core planting a few soft kisses on your thighs to let you enjoy the last waves of your climax without overstimulating you.

When you slowly come down from your high, still panting against Hunters chest, Crosshair rises from his position between your legs, his face glistening with the remnants of your juices. He tenderly wipes away the traces of your arousal with the back of his hand before leaning in to press a soft kiss against your lips. His touch is gentle, his lips conveying a depth of emotion that he can hardly express with words.

“You feel better, riduur?” he whispers in your ear so quiet the others can’t hear it, he thinks, but Hunter hears everything, not that he needed to hear it, he knows how his little brother feels, how madly in love he is with you.

“Much better” you hum, kissing him.

You catch sight of his arousal straining against his sweatpants, and you reach out to palm him through the fabric. But he stops you with a gentle hand, a soft smile gracing his lips as he shakes his head.

"This was just for you," he murmurs, his voice a tender whisper against your skin.

"I wanted to make you feel better, and that's enough for me tonight."

His words wash over you like a soothing balm, filling you with a warmth that transcends the physical. As Crosshair leans in to press a tender kiss against your lips, his gaze softens with affection and love.

"But I'll gladly take you up on that offer when you’re better and you've rested," he whispers, his voice a gentle murmur against your skin.

You nod in understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of his care and devotion.

Tech shifts over to make room for Crosshair beside you, and as the five of you settle into the comforting embrace of each other, a sense of peace washes over you like a gentle tide. In the quiet stillness of your home, surrounded by the warmth and love of your boys, you feel yourself drifting off to sleep, lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of their breathing and Crosshairs soothing heartbeat against your cheek.

Only Tech remains awake for a while longer, his fingers tapping away on his datapad with a quiet diligence. But soon, even he succumbs to the pull of slumber, slipping off his goggles and nestling into the warmth and comfort of the cuddle pile.

cyar’ika - darling/beloved

mesh’la - beautiful

riduur - wife

[genderlessghoul]

Hey so some while ago I wrote a bit about Dew's elemental transition and him taking it well and NOT HAVING ANGST ATTACHED TO IT FOR ONCE CUZ I'M SOFT!!! (Affectionately to anyone who writes angst, I love you)

Anyway I talked a bit about Rain's summoning in that post and I wanted to write it better so I did! It's under the cut.

~1k of Dew falling in love at first sight

Dewdrop stands in front of his mirror, ceremonial cloak in hand. Anticipation and dread eat at his nerves as he stares at his own reflection. He barely recognizes what the mirror shows him now. Just a few weeks after his elemental transition, he's not yet used to this new version of himself. 

No more gills. No more fins. His silky soft white hair now a more orange blonde, blue eyes replaced with amber. Scorch marks and scars over all his once discernible Water features. 

He doesn't regret his choice. He says it loud and clear to anyone who'll listen. Water was familiar, but never home. Fire embraces him, makes him feel welcomed. That doesn't make it any easier for him to live this new change, to recognize the stranger looking at him from the other side of the mirror. He throws his cloak on with a sigh before heading out his door. Tonight, the Clergy summons its newest ghouls. Air and Water. The Water that will take his place in the band and- No. Dewdrop pushes the thought aside. He cannot, will not, resent the new ghoul simply for existing. He doesn't regret his choice.

The Fire ghoul runs into Aether, also on his way to the room where this ancient ritual will take place. As the new head of the Quintessence ghouls (by default of being now the only one), it's his job to welcome the new summons.

“You doing alright?”

He asks the nerve-wracked smaller ghoul.

“'m fine, just… nervous.”

“You can tell me what's on your mind, you know? It's kind of a big deal, what's happening tonight.”

“I just hope that-” Dewdrop pauses, not sure exactly what he's hoping for. “That we get a good one.”

Aether hums in acknowledgment and the both of them keep walking in silence, picking up Mountain on the way. The last three ghouls remaining after the events following the death of the Emeritus brothers. They make their way to the summoning chamber, where Sister Imperator and the shiny new Cardinal are already waiting, candles lit and sigils drawn on the floor.

The woman instructs them into place, around the circle of candles and explains the ceremony. He can't be bothered to pay much attention, he watches Aether pick up the cloaks for the ghouls-to-be and take place next to him. All Dew has to do is stand there and keep his mouth shut. Should be easy enough.

Imperator stands by the Cardinal as she shoves a book in his hands and reminds him of the incantations. He takes a hesitant step forward, gripping the ancient book in an iron grip that Dew can't help wondering if he'll rip the thing in half. Copia clears his throat nervously before he starts to read with a shaky voice. 

A small wind picks up in the room, slowly growing in intensity as the Cardinal reads until it turns into a tornado that takes out most of the candles around the summoning circle. He finishes the incantation and the tornado disappears, revealing two Air ghoulettes sitting in the middle of the circle, both looking just as confused as everyone else in the room.

Two?

Aether looks at Imperator, wanting confirmation before breaking into the circle. She gives a quizzical look in response and the Quintessence ghoul takes it as his unusual cue to go greet the newcomers. He offers them both a hand and gives them the two ceremonial cloaks he had with him. 

Dew watches as Aether greets them and exchanges a few words, getting them into place around the circle. Now is not the time for long winded explanations, they still have one ghoul to summon. The Fire ghoul fidgets nervously under his cloak. His heart feels like it's going to burst out of his ribcage at any moment, the anticipation slowly killing him.

The Cardinal lets out a dry chuckle while Imperator glares at him with daggers shooting out of her eyes. How do you mess up a spell that badly that you end up summoning two ghouls at once?

Copia does his best to ignore the Sister and flicks the book to another page for the next incantation. He looks up at Dew expectantly and the ghoul gives him a confused expression before he catches on.

Oh, right.

He walks around the circle and relights the extinguished candles with ease before taking his place again. The Cardinal starts to read again and Dew wonders what kind of small natural disaster he's going to conjure, this time around.

Everyone stares in equal parts of awe and confusion when the inside of the summoning circle turns into a puddle. No hurricane or tsunami, no downpour or thunderstorm. Just a puddle of stillwater. After a moment of absolutely nothing happening, the top of a head peeks out of the water, a curtain of black hair sticking to blue skin. A pair of curious amphibian eyes stare down the people in the room while the rest of the ghoul, if it even is one, stays completely submerged underwater.

Dew shoots a glance as Aether, who looks like he's at a complete loss of what to do in this new scenario. Before he even knows it, the Fire ghoul is kneeling in front of the puddle.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

A voice calls out from beneath the surface and Dew has to fight every single atom in his body not to jump in the water right then and there.

“How you feel about getting outta there, right now?”

“Water's nice.”

“We have better pools.”

The pair of eyes blinks slowly at him. Dew's face becomes incredibly hot and he convinces himself it's from having everyone in the room watching him. A webbed hand with slender fingers reaches out of the water and he takes it, pulling the new ghoul out of the puddle with effort. He takes his own ceremonial cloak off and offers it to the newcomer, covering his naked form in an attempt not to ogle him so soon after being summoned.

“I'm Dew, by the way.”

“Rain.”

Rain. The Fire ghoul repeats in his mind. Sounds like home.

[screeblees]

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…

[suniix]

08 | miyamura x reader

synopsis | something you’ve been suspicious of is confirmed, you’re unsure what your next steps should be

word count | 2k

note | wrote this instead of working on my midterms lolol, but we’re almost done guys!! next chap is the final chap! sorry for any typos it’s super late and i wrote this instead of sleeping :’)

previous | mlist | next

Yanagi is a lot different than you would’ve imagined.

You decided you’d listen to Miyamura and attempt to ‘reconnect’ with him. For the past couple of days you’ve been hanging out with him on the weekends, even walking home with him after school to try and learn as much about him as possible. You try not to think about Miyamura’s dejected face when you told him about it.

Once during the weekend when you and Yanagi agreed to hang out you showed up early and woke him up. Safe to say, he is not a morning person. Apart from now understanding why he’s always late in the morning, you’ve come to understand that Yanagi is a little bit different than the boy you remembered.

While at first glance he acted almost exactly the same, once you got to know him there were little things that gave you a feeling. You can’t describe it more than that, it just felt like something, but you weren’t sure what.

You understand that people change overtime and it’s very likely your friend changed, but something about Yanagi just didn’t click in your brain. Everytime you thought about it you shrugged it off, thinking maybe it was difficult for you to accept he’d be different from what you remembered.

“Oh look, a park.” Yanagi pointed and you shifted your attention.

He began walking to a pair of swings and you followed, taking a seat next to him while gently kicking your legs out.

You decided that during this hangout you were going to ask him.

“Can’t believe it’s almost spring.” He traced patterns in the sand with his foot.

He was right, despite it almost being night the air was still warm enough for you to be without a jacket.

“Just a couple of more months until summer break.” You smiled, already planning what you were going to do with your friends.

This seems like a good time to bring it up..

“Hey, this might sound weird, but..” You paused, wondering how to go about asking without doing it directly.

Yanagi noticed your hesitancy and nodded for you to continue with a gentle smile. Oddly enough it comforted you.

“Have you ever made.. a pinky promise?” You fiddled with the end of your shirt.

“Pinky promise?” Yanagi repeated. “I’m pretty sure I have when I was younger..”

Your heart leapt at his answer. Don’t get excited, everyone makes them, that was a really general question, I need to ask something more specific..

“…Was it serious?”

“Um—“ Yanagi paused, seriously thinking about your question. “I guess at the time it was? But the promises I made were about silly things, so not totally serious.”

“Oh.”

The silence that followed was painfully awkward, not even the crickets dared to chirp their late night tunes. Part of you regretted asking, but there was no turning back now.

“… Did you ever make a serious pinky promise? Like, one you’d hope the other person kept despite going years and years without seeing them?”

Yanagi shot you a confused glance. “That’s oddly specific?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just!—” Your ears burned in embarrassment. “You just remind me of someone I made a promise with..” you whispered.

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.”

You felt your heart drop, this was it.

“You feel bad about a promise you made with someone and it’s been years since you’ve seen them so you have no way of proving you’ve been trying to keep your promise, right?”

You couldn’t help but let your jaw drop at his response. That wasn’t what you were expecting. While that wasn't the entire reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to explain due to the growing embarrassment you were feeling.

Yanagi took your silence as confirmation and patted your back softly. “It’s nice to know that you hold promises like that so close to your heart, I’m sure your friend would be glad to know you still think about them.”

He was so close to the truth, but he missed one crucial part.

There was no way for you to predict that Yanagi would’ve misunderstood your words, or maybe he was well aware of what you were trying to imply and was trying to help redirect you without causing you further embarrassment, either way, he made it clear he was not who you were looking for.

“In my opinion, you have no reason to worry. The fact that you still remember the promise and you’re still worrying about it proves you’re a good friend. I’m sure your friend would agree too.” Yanagi continued to rample while you tried to reel your mind back in.

You sighed, deciding to go along with his story. “Thing is, I don’t even know where they are.”

“You’ll find them eventually, when the time is right. The universe is weird like that, it brings you back to things when you’re ready for it.”

As inspiring as Yanagi’s words were, they left you feeling a bit helpless. When you guys went your separate ways you accepted the fact that maybe he was right and you wouldn’t find your friend for a long time.

Not until the universe deemed you ready.

“Can’t believe it’s that time of the year already.” Ishikawa sighed.

Normally you would overlook his complaining, but this time you found yourself agreeing with him. Love was in the air at Katagiri High and while most were bitter about spending it alone, you were mostly upset about the obscene prices your favorite treats would rise to because of the holiday. Most shops and restaurants would likely be packed with couples too, which meant no after school shopping for little trinkets you didn’t need. You’d have to head straight home once school was over.

“Just get a girlfriend already so you can stop complaining.” Yoshikawa snapped, pushing him away when he began to eye her lunch.

“You say that but I heard you complain to Hori about this right before we started eating.” He retorted.

As the two bickered, Miyamura nudged your shoulder. “Wanna come by the bakery after school? I have some new recipes I want someone to try before we start promoting them.”

You quickly nodded, it was as if he had read your mind. You hadn’t realized it until now, but you were so obsessed with figuring out if Yanagi was your old friend that you began to neglect Miyamura. More time with Yanagi meant less with Miyamura; the thought made your heart ache. Guess you wouldn’t be heading straight home after, you had a lot of catching up to do.

“What about you (Y/n)?”

Ishikawa called, breaking you out of your small trance.

“Do you have a special someone?” He elaborated, batting his eyes and puckering his lips in an exaggerated way while leaning close to you.

You roll your eyes and push him away. “Maybe.”

That comment alone was enough to peak the whole group’s interest. “Woah, seriously?” Ishikawa gaped.

Despite knowing them for almost a full school year you still kept most things to yourself, so to hear you even mention being interested in someone was enough to keep them entertained the whole lunch period.

“It’s not as interesting as you think it is.” You chuckled as Hori pushed Ishikawa’s jaw up to close his mouth. “When I was little I met this guy and he was the first friend I ever really made. I barely even remember him, but.. I wanna meet him again.”

You fiddled with the untucked ends of your shirt, missing the way Miyamura’s eyes widened at your confession. The silence was broken when Ishikawa slammed his fist down on the table, catching everyone’s attention.

“Oh man that's actually sort of tragic..” He mumbled into his hand.

“I think it’s pretty romantic, just like in the novels! Though I guess yours might not have a happy ending.. but that doesn’t mean you won’t!!” Yoshikawa began awkwardly rambling near the end of her sentence when she noticed how depressing she made it sound.

“I mean, it’s not that bad.” You tried to laugh it off, but the truth is it bothered you. A lot. “I’ll find him someday. When I do, I hope he remembers me.”

A year ago you would’ve been mortified to find out that you’ve been getting too personal with your classmates. Maybe you shouldn't have told them about this, maybe you weren’t ready to reveal the one secret that you’ve been keeping in, but it’s too late to take back what you said now.

You’ve changed, you’ve grown, and that’s okay.

You could hardly contain your excitement.

After days of not spending time with Miyamura you were finally going to hang out together again.

As you finished packing you looked over at his seat and noticed he left his bag. Miyamura was helping Hori deliver something to the student council room and told you he’d be right back so you could walk together.

You figured it’d probably be easier if you went to the student council room so he wouldn’t have to walk all the way back just to pick you up, so you grabbed his bag and began heading over to the student council room. As you approached the door you noticed Hori and Miyamura seemingly bickering in the front. Hori was quick to notice you and gave you an irritated smile.

“One sec!”

With that she dragged him into the room and slammed the door shut. The sound was loud enough that it echoed down the empty halls. Through the door you could hear muffled sounds of an argument between the two along with shuffling.

You felt your heart drop. Oh no, did spending all that time with Yanagi cause you and Miyamura to drift away that much? Were him and Hori a thing now? Were you interrupting something between them?—

You didn’t have much time to think before the door flew open, causing you to jump. “Ok! All good now! See you later (Y/n)!” She said while maintaining that eerie smile. She began to walk away and you shivered at the scary aura that surrounded her.

You couldn’t help but notice how she only acknowledged you. Was she mad at you?

“Uhm, so what was that about?” You turned to Miyamura, who looked absolutely haggard.

His shirt was wrinkled from the top and his hair was messy; anyone who saw him and Hori come out of that room would’ve assumed something other than an argument occurred. “Don’t worry about it, she’s probably just fed up with me.” He answered, though that didn’t help calm your nerves.

“Why would she be fed up with you?” You questioned.

He gently took his bag from your shoulder and began leading you out of the school. “She’s just mad because I won’t accept her advice.”

Advice? “Advice for what?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but immediately closed it.

“.. Don’t worry about it.”

Despite his words, you worried. You worried a lot because Miyamura was your friend and you cared for him a lot. Maybe a lot more than a friend should.

Don’t! You’ve been over this already! You can’t!—

The thought escaped your mind. Why can’t you see him as more than a friend? Does having feelings for Miyamura make you feel guilty that you’re moving on from that old friend of yours?

Yes, you answered. Yes, feeling that way towards Miyamura makes you feel guilty. It makes you feel scared that you’ll move on and forget about that little boy entirely, but part of you thinks you can’t ever forget him. Despite your spotty memory, he’s the only memory that’s remained constant.

You don’t have to look out for him like you did when you were little. He’s in high school now, likely with his own group of friends, leading his own life.

It’s then that you realized you don’t have to stay stuck in the past, you’re allowed to move forward while still keeping what happened close to your heart. That doesn’t mean you’ll forget.

You don’t think you’ll ever be able to forget him, no matter how hard you try.

thank you for reading till the end! reblogs are greatly appreciated :D

please send an ask to be added to the taglist

if your username is bolded then that means i can’t tag you!

taglist | @swtstrwbrri @anime-for-the-sleepless @nagiswifey1 @shojislady @dreamlessnight @ozalysss @en-vys @hoonobono @jkeluv @yannvi @riya-song @syyyy4ever @suyaaachin @obsessed-with-a-fictional @hiqhkey @viscade @emmytrezz @hertaqueen @noisyalmonddreamer @zaikazen @yevene @fayeea @daniiixox @tenchi-112 @jessiegerl @yanagisprettygf @sanjis-fav-w1fe @ariilovesmoney

[masakuterarr]

HxH Character Analysis : UVOGIN

*cracks my fingers* alright peoples, I've been cooking this for DAYS now and I finally have everything gathered (at least I hope so). So lean back, get something to drink and maybe some paper and pen to take notes :) This will be a long one! (btw if there are missspellings I am really sorry, english is not my native language and it's too much that I wrote and I do not have the energy to look over it again- :') )

Character Analysis of Uvogin, regarding the Sarasa Incident

Numbing and Emotional Detachment

A dumb brute with just muscles and purely driven by the joy to kill. That's probably how a lot of people would describe him. This is actually not really true and I will explain why I think that.

In my perception Uvogin kills because a) it's his 'job' and b) because he wants to drown his own emotions.

There are generally 2 Options we can work with.

Uvogin kills because it's one of the only things that give him a positive feeling, which lasts short term.

Uvogin kills because it's something that numbs his emotions

If we go with option 1, we assume that Uvogin relates positive feelings with killing.

Killing the people who came to kill himself, assumingly gives Uvogin the most pleasure (kinky lol). Assumingly it gives him some kind of kick of adrenaline, knowing he might potentially gives his life. It's probably a same kind of feeling with the russian roulette. (Most people play it because of the death wish, but I don't wanna focus on that too much for Uvogin. This death wish with Uvogin can be a giant topic for itself-)

I simply think, Uvogin got addicted to this kick of adrenaline over time and now simply can't stop.

In the german dub of HxH 2011 it's even put a bit better. There Uvogin says "Because dudes like you appear here and there, I just can't stop killing. It's like an addiction"(I am just obsessed with some of the wording in different languages. Plus I LIVE for german dub Uvogin lol)

NOW, what is ironic about this, is that some moments before Kurapika asked Uvogin what they feel when killing innocent people they don't even know. To which Uvogin answers with "Nothing"

I found this weird so I came to the conclusion that Uvogin has a) to difference between killing innocent people and people who come to revenge or b) he doesn't even know it himself and he is just a confused mess, which makes sense if you consider how his mental health state is after unhealed trauma and unhealthy coping mechanism (but I will go intot his now anyways).

But if we consider Option 2, that killing people is actually numbing his feelings, he might even be the complete opposite of what we thought he is. In this case he might be a emotional mess and killing people is what calms him down.

No matter what tho, Uvogin is heavily addicted to the act of killing and he continues to kill because it's something that distracts him from his emotions. Because judging for how long this has been ago, Uvo is way too deep into this entire hole of killing as coping that he can't bare to face the reality that by now, he is probably even worse than Sarasas murder. So he drowns himself in distraction, pushing the reality down his throat so he does not have to face it. But even if he wanted to, he would probably just break at the actual realization of what he has become.

Extreme Punctuality and The Urge to Control The Uncontrollable

(ah my favorite and the least thing looked at)

At first look it is just a cute funny detail added to Uvogins character to make him a bit more relateable and whole as a character. But looking at it I actually realized a sad thing.

Remember when Sarasa went out alone? The others thought she was just gonna get the tape and come back.

If you look at it and put it simply. Sarasa was late. You know what Uvo hates? Someone being late. Nice when the realization kicks in, is it? :)

To explain it now;

When they found Sarasa in the forest, it was already too late. Uvo realized that if they were to search for her earlier or just arrive earlier, they might have had a chance to make an impact on the outcome. Or even save her life.

With this in mind, Uvogins focus on being punctional now seems less random. His anger towards his comerades being late probably isn't even intentionally. Sarasa's death might have impacted Uvo with a strong sense of responsibility as well.

He wants to gain control over things he can't even control, which is a really common coping response to trauma. He once lost control over something, which led to a tragic consequence and now he fears to lose control once again. So Uvogins 'anger' is not because he is actually mad, but because he fears that the same thing happened to them. He simply just cares and is scared that the ones he cares about are getting hurt and worst case, even die.

Because it happened once. So it's much likely to happen again, right? This is a common anxiety thought process.

Outer Persona and Antisocial Behavior

It is obvious that Uvo has a certain 'tough-guy' persona that he shows to the outside world. It becomes very clear when he fights against Kurapika

When Uvogin begins to realize that Kurapika is stronger than he thought and (from his view) maybe even stronger than himself, you can see how this persona is slowly breaking down.

Outer Personas are a common thing for people with Anxiety and Depression. So I think it is save to assume, this is the case with Uvogin. The reason for that can be really simple; from just wanting to not let the others worry about his mental state or just to seem invincible to other people/enemies.

But it can also be, that Uvogin tries to convince himself that he is invincible and not wants to accept how vulnerable he actually as. And yet again, not being able to accept that he wasn't strong enough when Sarasa needed him to be.

To the 'antisocial' part;

When they found Sarasa in the bag back then, Uvo was about to leave her and the others. This always seemed a bit off to me. Why would he leave if he cared so much about her?

People have various reactions to when they don't know how to handle a situations or emotions. Some people laugh, some cry, some stay silent and some get angry. Uvogin is seemingly someone to cope with aggression or isolation/detachment. He probably just wanted to vanish because he felt weak and helpless, and his body instinctively reacted with aggression and the attempt to cut himself out off the scene.

Even at some point in the fight against Kurapika, you can see how Uvo started to gave up and just emotionlessly repeated himself to Kurapika: "Kill me" .

This also leads to (imo) Uvogin's biggest weakness :

Uvogin and Panic

Uvo is a strong and smart fighter, when it comes to combat. He can probably plan out a lot within just a few moments and has an incredible skill at creative problem solving.

Tho, for me, it tends to panic really easily, leaving him extremely vulnerable. The best example is in his fight against Kurapika but also against the Shadow Beasts. Theres a moment when he got caught off guard and starts to slightly panic, which led him to instinctively cope with aggression;

In the 2011 anime he even calls one of them "bastard" after collabsing onto the ground.

(small addition here cuz Shal wtf, why do you look like someone got you flowers after your comerade just collabsed onto the ground, obviously about to get tortured now??)

anyways-

Uvogins Ego and Self Blame

Ofc this can just be Uvo being Uvo, as he thinks a lot of his own abilities and skills, but since this is an analysis, why not looking into it too?

Maybe Uvogin tends to have an ego problem and high temper because he does not want to get reminded that he can fail too. Because in his opinion, the last time he failed, it led to Sarasa's death.

Logically it is obviously not his fault that Sarasa died. The kids straight up didn’t know what would or could happen. But I am very sure that Uvo always blamed himself for it. The same probably goes for Chrollo and the others as well. And since Uvogin is not in a healthy envirnment, nor got treatment for his trauma ever, he surely blames himself.

(And at this point he surely is not able to stop/change his mind on that anymore. Uvo would straight up rage if he was put into a therapist's office LOL)

A similar thought process might have happened when Uvo got kidnapped by the nostrade family and the others had to save him. After all, it would fit a LOT into his pattern of feeling vulnerable and coping with aggression trying to protect his ego. Cuz if he doesn’t he has to face the reality that he was too weak (again) and the others had to save him, putting them indirectly in potential danger.

His thought process is probably something like: I was too weak → others had to save me → IF they get injured or worst case someone dies bc of it, it is his fault → Cuz they had to save HIM. Because this again is a comon pattern when it comes to Anxiety and Depression.

which leads me to the next point;

Overcompensation with strength and the fear of weakness

My last point. A simple but sad one.

Uvo simply feats of being weak. So he purely focuses on physical strength and mastering his nen as an enhancer.

"If I am too weak, I just need to get stronger, right?"

Because he is an enhancer, he would probably think this simple. And even if we look at it from a depression perspective; A quick way out and taking the first idea to not waste any more time. Especially since Uvo does not seem to be much of an overthinker.

He had emptiness and many questions inside him and his first instinctive answer was strength. As simple as that.

gosh this was a lot- but I warned you before so don't blame me LOL

I hope I was able to explain my thought about him and how I look at him :) I will maybe do a second part, focusing on the "death wish" part I talked about earlier! We will see, no promises.

Feel free to tell me your opinion on this! I would love to hear them 🤍

[luvsturniolo]

ー ★ !! inebriated

pairing : chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis : after being dragged to a party by his brothers, chris finds himself stumbling into a very drunk girl — who looks like she's on the verge of either puking or sobbing. he can't tell which.

a/n : i haven't touched my keyboard in literal months so i wrote this purely due to the fact that i needed to get back into this writing lore ! if this is super shitty & bad, i apologize. this is ur warning !!

also ! there will be underage drinking, so if that sort of thing bothers you in any way i advise that you click off of this rn and find another fic.

also x2 , this will be switching POVs a bit. i'll put their names above each scene tho, so it's not confusing.

wc : 8k

CHRIS

"i don't know if this is a good idea." chris says, warily, as he and his brothers trudge up the stairs toward the loud dorm room. they're all the way down the hall, and he can still hear every single lyric blaring from the speakers.

"oh, don't be a fucking wuss." nick rolls his eyes, gently nudging his brother in the side with his elbow. nick laughs a bit, but when he notices the genuine uneasiness displayed on his brother's face, he feels a twinge of guilt in his gut. "okay, fine. i have an idea."

chris looks up at nick with a deep furrow in his brow, "i hope your idea involves us going back to our own dorm for the rest of the night."

"well, not exactly." nick tells him. "how about matt and i go to the party, while you wait out here in the hall all night?"

chris lets out a loud groan, twisting to sit down on the staircase. what annoys chris isn't the fact that nick is so uncharacteristically persistent about attending this stupid party. it's the fact that he offered this idea as though he genuinely expected chris to sit out in the hallway for hours.

nick rolls his eyes at chris's childish behavior, leaning against the wall of the stairwell, seeming to have completely given up on trying to convince his brother to come along with him. he simply watches with an amused face as chris throw a tantrum.

matt — who has become incredibly sick of listening to his brothers' bickering the entire walk across campus — finally decides to butt into the conversation. he sits down on the stair beside chris, draping an arm over his shoulders. chris glances at matt out of the corner of his eye.

"i have an idea, too." matt tells him with a gentle tone. "wanna hear mine?"

for a moment, chris looks uncertain. but matt is so good at comforting people that he can't help but give in, agreeing to hear his idea as well. "fine." chris mutters.

"listen. you come to the party with us for twenty minutes." he says, making chris immediately let out a fatigued sigh. but matt quickly continues to explain. "if you're still wanting to leave by then, let me know and i'll take you back to our dorm without any questions. but if you end up having fun, you'll stay with us and give us both twenty bucks for having to listen to you whine the whole way here."

chris doesn't hesitate to agree to this deal. he shakes matt's hand to solidify the agreement and the three of them continue walking to the party.

there's no way in hell chris is going to enjoy this. the booming music paired with the stench of alcohol and weed is undoubtably going to give him a splitting head ache by the end of these twenty minutes.

YOU

parties aren't exactly your cup of tea, to put it lightly. you've only been to a few throughout your entire collage career, and you've never found yourself liking them. there's always far too many people in attendance for you to be able to relax or enjoy yourself. so, you've managed to avoid them thus far.

but you've had an incredibly rough day today, and you're pretty keen on the idea of being able to drink your pain away.

you've been friends with jasmin and elaine since you guys were in middle school. the three of you were inseparable for years, and everyone knew it. you were always closer with elaine than jasmin, simply because your guys' personalities merged better. as a trio, you guys spent every single weekend together since you were kids. your families all knew one another. you gossiped together about boys and drama and school. you confided in each other, and didn't spend a second apart.

however, that all ended today. you found elaine making out with your boyfriend in your guys' shared dorm room a few hours ago.

you had been dating kade for two years now, and you introduced him to your friends immediately when you guys met. you were excited to show them the wonderful boy you'd fallen for. they seemed to like him, and you guys became a quartet. you, elaine, jasmin, and kade. it was perfect. for two whole years. but it's all ruined now.

as soon as you walked in on elaine and kade in bed together, you called jasmin to tell her the news. she seemed just as shocked and betrayed as you were, and she rushed to your side instantly. you'd been in her dorm ever since, marinating in your own pitiful sorrow.

the thing is, you've been cheated on before. yes, it hurts ; it hurts like hell. but losing elaine hurts far more than losing your silly boyfriend. plus, kade had always been a bit of an asshole. elaine was the one who disapproved of him the most. the two of them always argued and made banter playfully. god. now you feel like such a fucking idiot for not realizing sooner.

"hey," jasmin says with the softest voice imaginable.

she opens the door to the dorm with a gentle creak, carrying in your favorite candies along with her. she trudges across the room before sitting on her bed — which you've made into your own. the mattress dips under her weight before she sets all the sweets down onto the duvet.

you sit up with a quiet word of thanks. ever since the incident, you've been tangled up in jasmin's blankets with a pillow pressed over your head to drown out the noise of a nearby party being thrown a few rooms down the hall.

"where'd you get all this?" you ask jasmin as you shuffle through the candies, finding the sweetest ones and unwrapping them joyfully.

"paxton is throwing a party for his birthday, and he let me take a few things." she explains, picking up a few for herself.

you can still hear the music blaring from down the hall, along with the sounds of muffled voices and laughter. you immediately wonder if kade and elaine are there together. kade is fairly popular, so he was most likely invited. and elaine loves parties, so she would have attended with him.

the thought of them together brings a certain ache to your stomach, making you want to lurch forward and vomit everywhere. you don't, of course, but you definitely consider it.

"i really fucking love you, jaz." you say.

you look at her with nothing by admiration behind your gaze. she holds the eye contact before smiling gently. she sets down her candies and pulls you into a tight hug. you return the embrace, burrowing your face in the crook of her neck.

"you deserve someone who treats you like the most wonderful person in the whole fucking world." she says against your hair. "because that's who you are."

"i don't feel like that, right now." you tell her, pulling out of the hug to gesture at your appearance. your hair is greasy tangled, your face is puffy from crying, your clothes are twisted, and you probably smell like shit.

"how about this," jasmin says with a mischievous grin spreading across her lips, "i'll lend you one of my most gorgeous dresses, and then we can go to paxton's party together. every single person there will stop and stare, including kade."

jasmin stands from the bed and grabs you by the hands, giggling as she pulls you to your feet. despite wanting nothing more than to go back to rotting uselessly in her bed, you can't help but laugh along with her.

"let's show him what he's missing out on." jasmin declares with a glow in her eyes, that makes you feel like you're in a cheesy disney movie. but you're honestly loving every second of it.

CHRIS

"how long has it been?" chris asks, leaning against the counter behind him. he looks up at matt, but realizes that his brother is no longer in front of him. chris groans audibly. he should have assumed that he wouldn't keep his end of the deal. there's no way matt could walk him home if chris doesn't know where he is.

"it's almost ten o'clock." a random guy says from beside chris. he looks over at him and smiles gratefully, hoping he doesn't look too awkward standing by himself. "this party is shit, don't you think?"

"for sure." chris agrees, quickly. "i don't even drink, so there's nothing for me to do other than watch everyone else get shit-faced. which isn't exactly how i want to spend my saturday night."

the guy just watches chris with an amused expression. the way he's staring makes chris feel a bit uncomfortable, but he refuses to show any sign of uneasiness.

"you're nick's brother, aren't you?" he asks suddenly.

the guy has sandy blonde hair and a face splattered with freckles. his eyes are dark brown, and a bit intimidating. he has high cheekbones and a grin that would make anyone tempted to smile along with him. the stranger takes a long sip out of his red solo cup as he waits for chris to respond, setting it down on the countertop behind him without breaking their eye contact.

"yeah, one of them." chris replies, finally. "i'm christopher."

"mm. full name, huh?" the guy hums with a bit of humor laced behind his tone. chris doesn't say anything, simply nodding as a reply. "i'm paxton. this is my party, i'm turning twenty."

chris's face drops. he instantly wants to take back everything he'd previously said. oh, he fucked up big time. he knows that nick only wanted to come to this party because of the major crush he has on paxton. and chris just insulted the shit out of his birthday party, then acted passive aggressive when giving him his full name as an introduction.

god, nick is gonna kill him.

"right, well i have to go." chris says, quickly exiting the kitchen with no idea where to go next. he should probably have stayed and apologized to paxton, but he was too scared of possibly fucking up even farther.

while aimlessly wandering around the crowded dorm, chris bumps into someone. he instantly apologizes, looking down at her with remorse. but his eyes quickly soften when he recognizes her.

"y/n?" he mutters, shocked to see you. especially at a party like this, knowing how much you usually dislike them with everything in you.

"holy fuck." you reply, your voice slurred and intoxicated. "christopher owen."

YOU — fifteen minutes prior

"i don't even know what to do at a party." you complain as you examine at yourself in jasmin's mirror. she was right, you look stunning. but you don't look like you.

"we're not going to party." jasmin explains as though it's the simplest concept to understand. "we're going to make kade jealous, and then get super drunk so we're too hungover to face tonight's concequences in the morning."

she has to shout in order for you to hear her voice because she's in the bathroom, curling her hair. the bathroom door is cracked open, but yelling is still needed due to the party's music being louder than anything else.

you shrug even though she can't see you doing so. "well when you put it that way, it sounds like a lovely idea." you respond, also shouting.

"girl," jasmin says with an audible laugh, "all my ideas are lovely."

with that, she exits the bathroom. her dress is shiny and gold, contrasting beautifully against her dark skin. you watch through the mirror as she approaches you, her reflection standing directly behind your own as she begins to put on two chunky, gold earrings.

you're wearing a dress that's a bit shorter than you'd like, but jasmin claims that it's the longest one she owns. you keep pulling it down subconsciously, but it's riding up your thighs annoyingly. you're wearing shorts underneath, of course, because they make you feel less exposed by the lack of length the dress provides. jasmin also lent you a necklace, a few bracelets, and a pair of earrings to wear. the jewelry is all dainty and more jasmin's style than yours, but you couldn't deny how fucking gorgeous you looked.

"let's go!" jasmin says with a giddy smile, grabbing your hand as she pulls you toward the door. you laugh with your last remaining true friend, allowing her to drag you down toward the party. your guys' heels click against the wooden floorboards in the hallway, the sound making you laugh even harder.

jasmin doesn't even bother knocking on the door. the way you guys enter paxton's dorm unannounced makes you feel strange, until you're actually inside and realize that the arrival of two people means nothing in comparison to the amount of guests that are piled into the space.

for the first few minutes, you and jasmin walk around together, exploring. you've had a few drinks, but you're hardly feeling anything yet. you end up leaving jasmin when she starts flirting with a random girl on the dance floor, and you feel invasive to linger around with her.

now on your own, you head toward the kitchen for another drink seeing as you just finished your last one. it's kind of comforting to be in the kitchen because there aren't as many people crowding around you. it's easier to breathe on your own.

you find a cooler on the floor, wide open with ice overflowing the rim. wedged inside the ice are various alcoholic beverages to choose from. you think for a moment before bending to grab a jack daniels, deciding on something sweet rather than bitter. when you stand back up, you notice someone standing to your left. you nearly drop the drink in shock.

"god," you mutter with an airy laugh as you turn to face the person. but all traces of humor leave your face when you recognize the presumed stranger.

elaine's hair is beautifully curled, framing her pale face with elegance that makes you suddenly feel like your hair isn't done well enough. her icy blue eyes stare down at you with an expression you can't read — which pisses you off because you used to be able to read all of her emotions perfectly. but now it's like she's a complete stranger.

now feeling insecure in your own skin, you pull the hem of your dress down. elaine doesn't seem to notice, nor does she care how you feel at the moment.

"what?" you demand, clutching the bottle in your hand to ground yourself. "did you come in here just to stare at me, or what?"

"don't flatter yourself." she says bluntly, a tone she's never directed at you before. in all the years you'd known her, you guys have never gotten into a genuine argument. so it's incredibly weird to see her in this new light. "i came for a drink. and you're standing in front of the cooler."

you turn and notice that she's right. you're blocking her from reaching the cooler. you instantly feel embarrassed, but you're quick to hide it by crossing your arms and stepping to the side so she can get to the cooler.

you watch as she reaches for the strongest drink that's offered. typical. she wouldn't be elaine without being unapologetically herself.

"you might not have anything to say to me, but i have a lot i'd like to say to you." you tell her, keeping your voice level despite the way your hands tremble against your crossed arms.

"it can wait." she says, turning on her heel and exiting the kitchen without another word, her ash blonde hair swishing behind her with superiority.

"what the fuck?" you murmur, now alone in the kitchen.

your senses are suddenly overflowing with blinding rage. after years of being best friends, she sleeps with your boyfriend. and yet, she's the one avoiding you? there's no fucking way anything about this situation is logical. you're the one who's pissed, not her. she has no right to have walked away from you like that. you deserve an explanation. or at least a viable conversation.

you screw open your bottle and take a swig of the drink, deciding that you're going to need a whole lot more of this before your anger cools down enough for you to leave the kitchen. because if you were to leave now, you wouldn't trust yourself not to immediately go to elaine and start a fight that you're not sure you'd even win.

after about ten minutes of standing by the cooler, drinking away your anger, you decide to finally exit the kitchen. you leave the room, stumbling a bit as you do so. but you quickly turn back around, realizing that you left your phone on the countertop.

as you walk back into the kitchen, you bump into someone who's walking out of it. he quickly apologizes, seeming to be in quite a hurry. you decide not to look up at him, now being annoyed that someone even bumped into you. god, maybe drinking was a bad idea. now everything pisses you off, not just elaine and kade.

"y/n?" the guy mutters, sounding insanely shocked. you raise a brow before looking up to meet the man's eyes. you instantly begin smiling at the guy.

"holy fuck." you reply, your voice slurred and intoxicated. "christopher owen."

CHRIS

chris hasn't seen you since senior year of high school. and considering the fact that you guys are now in college, it has been quite a while since you've seen each other.

you guys weren't necessarily friends back then, but you knew one another well enough. you guys had math together for two years straight. you sat side-by-side, talking every day through the entire period. by the end of the year, chris had developed a crush on you, and you were completely oblivious to his feelings.

he had introduced you to his brothers and you'd hung out outside of school a few times. you spent the night at his house once or twice, when your home life wasn't the greatest. he had come over to yours a few times to study for upcoming tests.

you's met his parents, and mary lou absolutely adored you. she told you stories about her sons, including each of their middle names. following this encounter, you had begun calling chris by his full name — christopher owen. at first, you did it because you noticed how it annoyed him. but then, the name stuck. it became an inside joke between you and him, depicting a sense of intimacy in knowing his middle name. even more so since it was given to you from his mother herself.

but after graduation, you guys lost contact and haven't spoken since.

however, seeing you in front of him now, chris really wishes he had made more of an effort to stay in touch with you. you're just as gorgeous as he'd remembered, if not more so than before. your dress was incredibly flattering, and your hair was done up perfectly.

upon seeing you, he completely forgot everything that was previously plaguing his mind. he couldn't even form a sentence, leaving the two of you staring at each other wordlessly. he took on your appearance once more, suddenly coming to realize something about you.

"you're drunk, aren't you?" he says, not knowing whether or not to be surprised. on one hand, it's a college party and everyone is drunk. but on the other hand, you're you.

you were the most perfect girl he'd ever met, unaware that you were capable of having a single flaw. but as he looks at you now, completely plastered, he realizes that it's impossible for anyone to be flawless. even you. plus, there's something incredibly domestic, and human about seeing you like this. like it's illegal, like something is wrong.

"i think everyone's drunk, except you and your brothers." you tell him with a crooked grin that makes his heart begin to beat at an unhealthy speed. "plus, i deserve to drink after the day i've had."

it sounds like you're telling yourself that last bit more than you're telling it to chris. as though you're not even sure you believe it. he wants to question you, and ask what's wrong. but he decides not to. that'd be weird, wouldn't it? i mean, you guys haven't spoken in years.

"anyway," you say as your body sways from side to side, "i left my phone in the kitchen and i need to get it back before someone steals it. or even worse, before elaine steals it."

chris raises a brow at your odd behavior, but again decides not to point it out. you continue talking as if you can't help yourself. as if there's no off switch, keeping you from spilling too much. and even though you've begun to talk about random shit that means nothing, chris is listening to every single word intently.

"...but yeah, i think all alcohol should have screw on tops." you ramble, mindlessly. "if we could all simply unscrew the bottles without a problem, we wouldn't have to waste money on those shitty bottle openers. but- well, i mean, maybe that's the point. oh my god! maybe that's the reason they're made! so they can make even more money off the openers! even though we don't need to use them, and they don't need the money. it's still a profitable arrangement that they're more well off having created. oh, and-"

you keep talking and talking. and chris keeps listening and listening. the way you gesture around with your hands makes him happy, because you used to do the same thing back in high school. and the way your voice gets higher when you come to a realization is also a habit you've always had.

in the middle of your ranting, nick comes up to chris frantically. he doesn't seen to notice you as he steals chris's attention away.

"have you seen paxton?" nick asks his brother with an extremely worried expression on his face. "we were talking, and it was going good. great even. but then he left to grab a drink, and he hasn't come back. i'm scared i did something wrong to scare him away. it was going so well."

remembering his previous conversation with paxton, chris immediately is filled with guilt. nick looks so terrified of the fact that he fucked this up, not knowing chris is the one who ruined his chances.

"i saw him in the kitchen a little bit ago, but it's been a while." chris says. he's technically not lying. he did see paxton. he's simply leaving out a few details. sure, they're pretty significant details, but it doesn't hurt nick to not know. in fact, it probably would be worse if he did. he's helping them all, honestly.

"thanks," nick says hurriedly before patting chris on the shoulder and rushing into the kitchen behind them.

with nick gone, chris refocuses his attention on you. but he's taken by surprise when he sees that you're no longer in front of him. chris looks around, spinning in circles idiotically. but it's like you fucking vanished out of thin air.

YOU

you've missed nick. you haven't seen him in years. but judging by the anxiety-filled body language, you deemed that this was a brotherly conversation. quickly feeling out of place, you decided to take your leave and return to the search of your phone. but when you reach the counter it had perviously been abandoned at, you see that it's no longer there.

"there you are!" you hear someone say from behind you. the sickeningly familiar voice draws chills down your spine. even drunk, you could recognize kade's voice without having to turn around to see his face. hesitantly, you do turn around. kade is standing by the cooler, your phone held tightly in his hands.

"oh, you found it." you say casually, stepping over to your ex with an amount of false confidence that shocks even you. "i've been looking for my phone everywhere, thank you for returning it for me!"

kade clearly is taken aback by your nonchalance, making you feel extremely good about yourself. but when you reach to take your phone from him, kade holds it above his head. when you guys were dating, his height was endearing. you loved how much taller he was compared to you. but right now, it's really pissing you off.

"see, i was going to give it back." kade says, lowering the phone so it's now in front of his face. he begins to type in your password — which you haven't yet changed seeing as it all only happened this morning. "but i changed my mind."

"you're not fucking funny." you tell him. your voice comes out more emotional than you would have preferred, because now kade knows exactly how annoyed you are.

"hm," he hums, scrolling through your phone as though it were his own. "i think it is funny, to be honest. i mean, you should be thanking me. who knows who else could have found it? you wouldn't have wanted it to get in the wrong hands, would you?"

"it's too late for that." you say. "you're the worst hands for it to be in."

he laughs, audibly, at that. the sound makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. you want nothing more than to punch him in the fucking jaw.

it's so weird that your feelings could change so fast. this morning, you woke up and texted kade with enthusiasm. you guys kissed and cuddled so normally. similarly, you were hanging out with elaine at lunch today perfectly fine. but here you are now, with nothing but hatred for both of them.

"i saw you talking to that triplet guy," kade says, "i always get them mixed up. was that chris or matt? i think nick is the gay one. or is it chris who's gay? god. i can never keep them straight."

"why do you give a shit who i talk to?" you ask him, crossing your arms defiantly as kade continues to snoop through your phone with a straight face. "at least i didn't fuck your best friend while we were together."

this gets his attention.

"you know nothing about our relationship." kade tells you, an edge to his voice that would have scared you if you weren't so blinded by your anger. you watch as he tuts before turning off your phone and stuffing it into his back pocket.

"oh, so it's a relationship now?" you ask. if you weren't so drunk, you would have had the common sense to shut up and stop teasing. but your only goal at the moment is to get as far under his skin as possible. you want him to feel all the pain you felt this morning. "i thought you guys were just fuck buddies."

"i've known elaine longer than i've known you." kade snaps, taking a step closer to you. you back away, being forced to press yourself against the corner of the counter behind you. "she's the one who introduced us in the first place, you dumb fuck."

"yeah, and i'm eternally grateful for that." you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes with a light scoff.

"elaine has been my friend since middle school. we've been near door neighbors our entire lives." kade tells you, as though you weren't already made painfully aware of their intimate history together. "she means more to me than just sex."

again, anybody else would have been able to read the room by now. they would have stopped poking the bear and decided enough is enough. but you're far too inebriated for something so logical. so you continue to dig a deeper and deeper hole.

"yeah?" you question, tilting your head innocently. "you might want to make sure those feelings are requited. i saw her making out with ryan hart earlier."

you watch as kade's jaw ticks with irritation. the sight of him getting so worked up fills you with an inexplicable pleasure. you've been crying all morning over two people who betrayed you. and after arriving at the party, it's seemed like they don't even care about your pain. so yes, seeing kade get pissed off is extremely satisfying. and yes, you should have stopped there. but no, you didn't.

"she might mean the world to you, kade. but to her? you're just another quick fuck that she'll pretend never even happened come tomorrow."

this seems to have crossed a line.

before you even have time to register what's happening, you're scrambling to your feet with blood dripping from your nose. kade punched you square in the face.

now collecting yourself, you look up at kade with a scowl. but he's not there to meet you eyes. honestly, he's got it worse than you. he's currently on the floor, getting the shit beat out of him by none other than christopher owen.

chris must have seen what happened and decided to step in after you got hit.

and as immature as it sounds, you don't care stop him. you simply watch as chris tackles kade to the ground and punches him repeatedly. people are shouting at him to stop, but chris doesn't care. and nor do you. kade deserves this.

you suddenly hear someone yell your name from somewhere else in the kitchen. you look up and see matt. your guys' eyes meet, and he gives you a look that makes you feel guilty for not stopping the fight earlier.

"tell him to stop." he says wordlessly. "he'll only listen to you."

with a sigh, you end the fight with one single word. you say chris's name, and his entire body stops in an instant. it's as if you flicked a switch. he stands up, knuckles bloody, and turns to face you as the kitchen falls silent.

something you've come to like about college is the fact that people know to mind their business. they crowd around for the fight, sure. but as soon as the show is over, they leave as though nothing happened.

chris steps closer, so he's only an inch away from you now. he reaches around and pulls your dress up. you instinctively go to shove him away, but before you have the chance, he slides something into your back pocket, your guys's noses nearly touching as he does so. you feel the familiar weight of your phone in the pocket of your shorts before chris tugs your dress back down to cover them up.

"are you okay?" he asks, so quietly you nearly don't hear him.

you stare up at him, speechless. then, you glance down at his hands and decide to make a joke in order to ease some of the tension. "seems like your knuckles are in worse shape than my nose."

"you should see the other guy." chris says with a chuckle.

you crane your neck to look behind him. but kade is already gone. you're a bit disappointed that you weren't able to see the damage chris did, but you're sure everyone will be talking about it on monday when classes resume.

"let me do you a favor." you tell him, grabbing his bloody hand and holding it in both of yours. "since you did me one."

CHRIS

your favor wasn't what chris expected. when you took hold of his hand and pulled him upstairs, he thought you were going to kiss him or something. but you had other ideas — which he should have expected. from all the time he's known you, he should know better than to assume he knows what's going on inside your head. you're unpredictable. and he loves it. it's actually one of his favorite things about you.

"there should be a first aid kit under the sink." you mutter, dragging him into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you as if you were at your own house. "the code of conduct says you're required to have one under each sink in case of emergency."

"no way you actually read the fucking code of conduct." chris says with a laugh, sitting down on the closed toilet seat. he watches you with a gentle smile splayed softly across his lips.

"of course not." you say without looking at him, crouching in front of the sink and beginning to dig through the cabinet. "jasmin's roommate did, though. i've never formally met her, but jaz complains about how strict she is with rules and shit."

"right," chris says.

he's hardly listening to you, though. as much as he would love to involve himself in a conversation with you — no matter the subject — he's distracted. you look so fucking gorgeous right now, and he can't tear his eyes away. it's becoming a genuine problem. he's not only focused on your appearance, though. just the sound of your voice is enough to take his attention away from the words you speak.

it's been so long since he's seen you, and he's just trying to relish in the escapism that your presence offers.

"-- might hurt." is all he hears when he zones back in. and he doesn't have any time to think before you press disinfectant to his knuckles. the medicine against the open wound causes him to suck in a sharp breath. you watch the pained expression on his face, and you frown. "focus on something else. you have nine more knuckles to work with."

as soon as you tell him to focus on something else, his mind instantly goes to you. he pins his eyes to yours, and you return the favor. you continue to hold the eye contact as you move to the next wound. he clenches his jaw, but the pain is much more bearable this time round.

this goes on for about a minute or two. you guys stare at one another as his knuckles are slowly getting the attention they need.

this thing is, kade had piercings. and every time chris's fist wound come in contact with his nose stud or his lip ring, it would puncture his skin — creating the jagged injuries that you're treating so delicately, now.

"done," you say with a wide grin. the sight of you looking at him with a proud smile makes the stinging pain from the gauze worth every second. chris watches as you shut the first-aid-kit and place it back where you'd found it. as you stand back up, he looks down at his battered hands.

you did a great job, that much was inevitable. when you dragged him up here, they were bleeding and throbbing. but now they're numbed, and the band-aid you pressed across the hills of his knuckles are keeping them from bleeding. suddenly, chris remembers something.

"c'mere." he tells you. you look at him with a confused expression, raising an eyebrow at his sudden assertiveness. he instantly feels guilty, and quickly apologizes. "sorry, i didn't mean to snap like that. i just want to check your nose. make sure it's not broken or anything."

you let out an airy chuckle, "you don't need to do that. i'm fine."

"i insist." chris presses on, standing from the toilet seat and taking a daring step closer to you. he hears your breath hitch, and a smile tugs at his lips. "it's the least i could do after you patched me up like humpty dumpty."

you laugh at this, a bright smile lighting the dimmed bathroom as your eyes squint with joy. chris wishes he could bottle this moment up and replay it whenever he pleases.

"okay, okay," you say as your laughter dies down, "you can check my nose."

you move to sit on the toilet seat he had just recently occupied. chris doesn't crouch in front of you the way you did to him, though. he stands before you, his legs placed between your knees. he grabs you jaw, gently as ever, and tips your head up. he uses his free hand to graze your nose, feeling the damage. or lack thereof.

"yeah," his voice is so quiet you strain to hear it, "yeah, you were right. it's not broken."

despite the initial concern now being solved, neither of you attempt to move from your position. chris continues to hold your chin upward, and you continue to stare at him through your lashes. his thigh knocks against your knee, but again, neither of you aim to change anything about this moment — both of you being too afraid to lose whatever chemistry is going on.

suddenly, there's a loud banging at the door. "hurry the fuck up! some of us have to take a shit! oh my god!"

chris gets annoyed by the interruption, tempted to exit the bathroom and hurt whoever just ruined the moment. that way, his knuckles would be bloody again and you'd help him again. yeah, that sounds like a good idea to him. but just as the anger settles into his mind like a bird nesting, something rips his attention away.

you burst out in a fit of laughter. chris whips his head in your direction, desperate to watch the adorable scrunch of your nose, and the light reflect in your eyes. still laughing, you stand from the toilet and wipe at your eyes. you urge chris forward, saying it's a good idea to leave seeing as you guys have been hogging the bathroom for a while.

chris happily obliges. honestly, he would agree with anything you'd say right now. he would do anything for you, simply in the hopes that you'd glance at him for a moment as he does so.

as you both exit the bathroom and return downstairs, chris notices you stumble a bit. then it clicks in his head — you're still a bit drunk. sure, the fight may have sobered you up a great deal, but it's not instantaneous. the alcohol is still in your system, and it's still altering your actions in a slight bit.

this would explain why you're so giggly, and why your cheeks are so rosy. and for a moment. for an awful, awful moment, chris wonders if that's the only reason why you're even hanging around him in the first place.

"let me walk you back to your dorm," chris offers.

"you don't have to do that." you insist, staring up at him with wild eyes and tangled hair that he finds incredibly endearing.

"tell me where your dorm is, and i'll decide that for myself." chris says. "how about this. if you're in this building, i'll let you walk home alone. but if you're in the west wing, you have to let me take you back."

you groan with a laugh, tipping your head back as you do so. "i'm in the west wing."

"great," chris says with a smile, "let me take you home. again, it's the least i could do after everything you've done for me."

"you already made it up to me by checking my nose." you point out, tapping the bridge of your nose to prove your point. "you don't need to escort me home, i'm sure i'll be okay."

"i'm not just talking about the fight." chris says. "you've been great to me since high school."

"oh,"

YOU

the only reason you don't want chris to walk you back to your dorm is because of elaine. she's an incredible manipulator, and will talk shit about you at any chance she gets. especially if she sees you with a new boy. and you're honestly scared that chris might believe her.

but when chris brought up your guys's past, something in your gut ached. you felt an urge to hug him, and confide in him, and simply just exist with him by your side.

it's probably because you no longer feel like you have anyone to confide in. you lost your boyfriend and your best friend in the same day, and you feel bad about complaining to jasmin because she'd going through the same thing. she lost elaine today, too, and it's not fair for you to whine about it when she's probably just as upset as you are.

"thank you," you say as you and chris approach your dorm.

you guys talked the entire way there. well, more like you talked while he listened. you felt bad for speaking without giving him a chance to respond, but he insisted that he doesn't mind. and plus, you're only talking so much due to your nerves.

what if elaine tells him something bad about you, and it makes chris hate you too? what if she sleeps with him the way she did with kade? well, you and chris aren't a thing, so that wouldn't bother you. well. it shouldn't. but it does. the image of him and her? it's- ugh, it's fucking unbearable. and you have no reason to feel that way, since you guys aren't dating. i mean, he could have a girlfriend, and you wouldn't know.

"of course," chris replies as though he was doing something unquestionable.

you stand there for a second, waiting for him to leave. but he doesn't. he's waiting for you to let him in. but. god, you can't do that. what if elaine is in there? finally, you decide to bite the bullet. you fumble with your keys and unlock the door, holding it open for him to enter through.

chris thanks you quickly, walking into your and elaine's shared dorm room. it's decorated to be cozy and warm — a theme that the two of your agreed would make it homier. you love the interior designing, and it makes you happy. but now, you can't think about anything except the image of kade on top of elaine. on your guys's shared couch.

you enter after chris, not turning to facet before you lock the door with the key and stuff it into your pocket. but when you finally turn around, you instantly run into his backside. you side step, wondering what made him stop walking so abruptly. then, you see-

oh.

of fucking course.

kade is sitting on the beige-colored couch with a packs of ice pressed to his face in various spots. while elaine straddles his lap, holding the ice for him as she speaks in gentle, soothing tones. they don't seem to notice you and chris at first, seeming to be too busy flirting with one another. but this could just be an act. perhaps they're trying to look unbothered. and if so, it's working.

elaine leans forward and kisses kade passionately. it lasts long enough that you begin to feel uncomfortable. you turn to chris with a forced smile, "well. thanks for walking me back."

he looks at you with a worried expression, seeing directly through your facade. he knows you and elaine were best friends — your entire high school knew you guys to be the perfect duo. inseparable. and he also knows that kade is a dick. you're not sure if he's aware that you guys dated, but chris definitely hates his guts now, after what happened at the party.

"you can stay with me and my brothers tonight, if you want." chris offers. "we talked the school into giving us a huge dorm so the three of us could share. but it's bigger than we expected, so we have tons of room for you if you don't want to stay here for the night. and none of us would blame you, by the way."

he gives elaine and kade a side-glance. the glare that chris shoots them would likely have been deadly if they were to have looked up at him. but they're too busy with each other to even notice his eyes on them.

"i couldn't ask you to do that," you say with another forced smile, "i'll be fine for the night. you've done more than enough."

chris looks like he wants to protest against this, but he shuts his mouth and decides not to. he nods, agreeing with your decision. "i'm not going to force you, but the offer remains. even if you change your mind in the middle of the night, i'll let you in without any questions."

you smile at this. genuinely. chris has been so insanely kind to you, and you simply don't understand what you've done to deserve it. yeah, you guys were friends a few years back. but chris is being so generous.

overcome with emotion, you wrap your arms around his neck. you hug him tightly, and he hugs you back. you bury your head in the crook of his collarbone, and squeeze him as though you would break without him there to hold you together. like a vase that needs tape to stay standing.

when you finally let go, you're forced to wipe at your eyes to refrain from crying. that would be insanely embarrassing, so you refuse to let any tears fall. you're sure chris wouldn't mind, but you would. you'd rather die than let him see you sob over your ex best friend and kade. ugh. even his name makes your throat close up.

"this is so insensitive." elaine says, causing you and chris to both turn your heads in her direction. you'd forgotten about her. well, that's a complete lie. but you'd like to believe it.

she's still sitting on kade's lap, but they're no longer making out shamelessly. her arms are draped across his shoulders, and his hands are under her shirt, but it's better than before, at least.

"y'know that's the prick who did this to kade, don't you?" elaine asks, directing her question to you.

"i'm aware." you reply, keeping your voice as level as possible. the feeling of having chris behind you makes you feel ten times as more confident, knowing he'd back you up against kade. you don't feel small against her anymore like you did at the party. it's nice. having someone on your side as well. it's not 2 v 1 any longer.

"then why the fuck is he even here? it's not his dorm." kade asks with a scoff and an eye roll, as though the scoff wasn't enough. you feel as chris's posture straightens behind you, and you give him a side glance that only the two of you could notice. he understands, and instantly relaxes — knowing that this is your problem, not his.

"i was there when the fight happened." you tell her, ignoring kade's attempt to piss chris off. "where were you, elaine? having sex with damien? oh, or was it vance? sorry. i can't keep up."

elaine looks like she could explode with rage, her face turning red as her teeth clenching together. it's a sight that you'd love to relish in, but you learned your lesson earlier today. sometimes it's best not to add on more and more. that's asking for a fight.

so you simply give her a final smile, turning to chris. you give him an apologetic look before standing on your toes and pressing your lips to his.

the kiss was an attempt to make elaine and kade annoyed, but you find yourself genuinely enjoying it. you snake your arms behind chris's neck, and he places his hands on your waist, holding your firmly against him. time seems to slow around you guys, as if the universe had been waiting for this moment for as long as you were. it no longer matters who's in the room. you only care about chris.

"i'm so sorry," you whisper against his lips between kisses, "just go with it."

"don't you dare apologize for this." he says. you feel his grip on your waist tighten, and you smile against him, returning to the kiss with an entirely different intention.

before, it was just to piss off your two nemesis. but now, you're doing it for your own enjoyment. because you actually want to. because you actually have feelings for chris. well. you think? you never saw him as a crush before this. but now, you're not sure you'll ever be able to look at him in the same light.

christopher owen. your christopher owen.

@kasqnxx @lvrsparadise @prettysturniolo @strniolo @urmyslxt @cupidsturniolo @opheliaofficial07 @thetriplets3 @sturn1olo-ffics @uhnanix @deadxrx @kitaysworld @lovelysturniolo @wilmalovegood @ladylokilaufeyson5 @sturniolopepsi @strnilolo @knowingnothingnoel @its-jennarose @lea0518 @slaysturniolo @sturnlover @tcvazq @ifilwtmfc @poopydroopt @cl0esblogg @ellaynaa @itzdarling

[sailorvenusxoxo]

The Fuck of a Lifetime (Tony Baddingham x FTM Reader)

Fandom: Rivals Pairing: Tony Baddingham x FTM Trans reader Summary: You're Tony's lover, and after a recent bottom surgery, you two finally reunite and share this new moment for you, in one of the way you both secretly craved. Warnings: smut, ftm reader, trans reader, slight mention of previous dysmorphia, clinical talk, fellatio, anulingus,slight domination, fingering, dom reader, bed sex, crying during sex. Word count: 4.1k requested by: @chrissydablsissy a/n: Wow. What a huge thing for me! First time I ever wrote something related to transidentity, so I really hoped I did you guys honour. I had it checked by one trans masc friend of mine, another non-binary masc, which they approved of! If you have any feedbacks, don't hesitate. I hope this will offend no one, I love you all, and I hope you will like it ♡

You looked at yourself in the mirror, utterly… proud. Satisfied. Well, not just that. Also… Deliriously happy.

Fuck, you could feel the tears, as you looked at your recovering body. Slightly scarred, but still beautiful and proudly standing.

God… Your body. It was your body. And it was all like you wanted. The shape, the size, the looks… You felt… At home. Once a stranger in your own body, you now felt finally at peace.

Yes, perhaps that was the feeling. Peace? Maybe less body dysmorphia... Less visible traces of the other gender you were born in. No, none of that frightened other person you were, finding themselves, trying to accept their previous body.

You were finally you. And while you’d never forget your struggling self, for they fought so hard for this current body, you knew you had moved on.

Surely to others, admiring your own naked body in the mirror, in tears, could be seen as narcissistic. But who gave a shit? It was the 80s, everyone’s narcissistic. And fucking hell, do you deserve this self-love. You had made it. Career wise, and… self-wise.

You wiped a tear, as you playfully flexed your arm, to imitate those male models you often saw. You chuckled, looking around every inch of your body. Your pecs, your stomach, your arse, your cock.

It was still a bit daunting to look at it. It was new, it was there, and in your own humble opinion, it looked glorious. Suddenly, a knock.

“Excuse me, sir? Are you ready for your check up with the Doctor?”

The nurse’s voice asked, from outside the room. You blinked, snapped back to reality, but to a much pleasant, and happy one.

“Yeah, sure. I’m coming!”

You replied, smiling, before getting dressed again. You felt the immense pleasure (though slight physical pain and discomfort) to finally tuck some flesh in your trousers, and you headed to the Doctor’s office, which wasn’t the one you had consulted or had followed you this year, through your three surgeries for a phalloplasty, you noticed. Indeed, you had spent ten months with one doctor following you, through your three operations constituting your phalloplasty, the last one being the implantation of a malleable penis implant.

You entered the office, the doctor explaining your regular one was doing another surgery, so he was replacing. It was the usual warnings and advice for recovery. Six weeks of limited work and before any sexual activity, painkillers just in case, cream to apply in case of infections…

“And… That’s pretty much it. Do not hesitate to contact us again if needed, or any doubts, Mr. Baddingham.”

The Doctor stated, his voice firm and rather cold, but not unkind.

You blinked, confused.

“Um…I’m not-? I’m not Mr. Baddingham.”

You stated, a bit confused. Why the hell did he think-?

The doctor frowned, taken aback.

“But… Your paying bill says Tony Baddingham? Perhaps I misread the file, then?”

You cringed slightly and shrugged.

“No, you did not. It’s…It was a present, this phalloplasty. So, I was not paying for it.”

You mumbled, a bit reluctant to admit. The doctor nodded, apologising.

Indeed, while you were thrilled with this operation, and grateful, a part of you was a bit disappointed you hadn’t paid it yourself. It would have been… more meaningful. More poetic, almost. But you had to keep it real. When Tony had nonchalantly offered to pay for it, after you had mentioned it again following a heated night, you knew it would have been dumb to refuse. With your current pay and savings, you would have to have waited ten more other years, for this surgery.

Leaving this thought aside, you exited the clinic, taking a taxi back to your place. Back there, you were surprised to see a letter has been sent to you.

A little postcard, with simple words.

“Get well soon, keep me updated on your state. -T”

Rather cold and plain, but you did not expect much from him. It was already a rather grand gesture, to pay for your operation, despite the fact Tony was always one to throw money at his problems. And his latest problem, for him to throw money at, had been your lack of libido, due to your discomfort in your body.

You sighed soflty, still deciding to keep the bright side of it. At least… It was done. And it was there forever.

As you put your stuff back in the shelves, you decided to ring him. To your surprise, he replied on the third ring. Not bad, for him.

“Tony Baddingham, I’m listening?”

He smoothly said into the phone, like with any potential buyers or customers.

“Hey. It’s me, I’m back from the clinic.”

You replied into the phone, your finger tapping against your thigh. Tony stopped for a bit, and it seemed like he was getting up, perhaps to close his office’s door.

“Hmpf. Back already? Suppose it went well, then.”

He observed, as you nodded, though he could not see it.

“Yeah, yeah. Really well, I’m glad. I’m… Very pleased with the result.”

You smirked, a hint of a cocky smile on your lips, looking at yourself in the mirror. You were almost tempted to spend all your rest days naked at home.

Then, you quickly added.

“Y’know… I wanted to thank you. Properly. You paid for something that changed my life, and-”

He interrupted you.

“Hm, sure, no troubles. How long until we can have sex again?”

He firmly asked, stopping your previous sentence. You pinched your lips, annoyed. It was so typical of him, to shut down and move on whenever vulnerability or actual feelings and emotions came on.

“Six weeks.”

You simply replied, as you heard him groan.

“Six weeks? Blimey, that’s like when Mon’ had our kids… That’s long.”

He grumbled, as you rolled your eyes, not really pleased with the comparison, and the mention of his wife.

“Yeah, well. Firm order, it’s too sensitive and new. And I won’t budge, I want to take good care of it.”

You firmly said, adamant. You were certainly not going to butcher your new body.

“Right, right…”

Tony mumbled, before clearing his throat.

“Well, I gotta go, back to work. I…”

You could hear him think, almost hesitating on his next words.

“I…I hope you’re alright. Take care. I’m…Looking forward, to seeing you again.”

He murmured, in a softer voice. You felt your heart skipping a beat, as you pinched your lips again, this time in fluster.

“…Yeah, I will. I’ll ring you soon. I miss you.”

You mumbled in a reply, a faint blush on your cheeks, as he replied.

“Miss you too. Bye.”

Before hanging up.

As cold and as annoying as he was, you knew that underneath this shell was an insecure man. An insecure man, that sometimes did terrible things. But, god helped you, you craved him. You craved to see him again. And currently, you craved to fuck him. Have him whimpering, begging for mercy under you, as you’d thrust into him, feeling him all around you…

You winced slightly in pain. Christ, you had forgotten arousal would also trigger some pain, at first. But you felt it! The blood rushing to your penis, swelling it, hardening it.

Those six weeks couldn’t come fast enough.

_______________________________________________

Six weeks later

You grumbled, at the coffee Deidre handed you.

“…Damn it, Deidre… You know I can’t stand milk in my-!”

She glared back at you, the older woman clearly not inclined to make you another coffee. Your lips scrunched, and you sighed in annoyance, reluctantly drinking the soupy mixture. You were far too afraid of Deidre to insist on her making you another one, though you technically could.

Indeed, somehow, as soon as you came back from your rest days, five weeks earlier, you had been promoted, to slightly upper responsibility job. You were quite surprised, since it was a bit odd to be promoted after two weeks away, but you excitedly accepted it, not caring for the metaphoric shadow of Tony suspiciously planning something.

After you finished the atrocity that was black coffee with milk and sugar, you saw Daisy, a secretary, hanging by your desk. You smiled at her.

“Hey, Dais’. What’s up?”

You asked, putting your TARDIS mug down.

Daisy simply tilted her head, smiling.

“Just the big boss, wanting to see you. Apparently, it’s scheduled every week, with your new job.”

You raised your eyebrows, a bit surprised, but nodded.

“Oh? Well, sure. I’ll go to his office, then.”

You shrugged, as Daisy shook her head.

“Yeah, he’s actually in The Falconry…”

She cringed softly, knowing you had to drive there, in the Cotswolds. You grumbled again, grabbing your coat.

“Why on earth isn’t he in his office, the lazy bastard…?”

You scoffed to yourself, marching down the corridors, to exit the Corinium Building. You got to your car, turning the key, putting your sunglasses on, and unbuttoning slightly your shirt, because of the heat. The radio turned itself on, Freddie Mercury’s voice ringing through the radio, raging about a bicycle. You could swear this clanky Bentley you had found in a garage shop for a ridiculously low price was sometimes possessed. It perpetually skipped every cassette you put in, until it was some Queen.

As you reached the green Cotswolds, you looked around the environment. You really fancied this estate. It was all green, large, with many trees, and many wildlife that your lover unfortunately shot during his bloody hunts with his board members. Either way, you knew you’d really love a little place here, if you could.

Finally, you reached the Falconry, which was the Baddingham’s manor. Parking there, you closed the door, climbing up the front stairs that you mostly knew from the numerous garden parties Monica threw for Tony. You knocked on the door, your throat clearing as you absently fanned yourself with a file signalling your latest department’s reports. You supposed you needed it, after all.

To your surprise, the door was not opened by the usual maid, but Tony himself. Tony, wearing his usual Versace lounge blouse, that you so often mocked him for, to accentuate his poshness. But before you could jest about him opening, or about his blouse, he roughly grabbed you by your sweat damped shirt, pulling you in for a harsh, strong kiss, his lips devouring yours.

You froze slightly, tensing in surprise, before you moved your lips slightly against him, putting your free hand on the back of his tilted head, to kiss him deeper.

“Hmm…”

He groaned softly, his tongue probing at your lips, trying to gain its way in. He always had this little habit of his, which was to make a grunting sound while he kissed you or did you. Little habit, that transpired in the rare aftercare moments you two had, when the grunting would turn into little humming sounds, as he softly kissed you. A rare sighting, in your encounters with Tony Baddingham, but a greatly appreciated one.

You pulled away, softly shaking your head, chuckling.

“Missed me that much? We saw each other two days ago-!”

You started as he grumbled, leading you inside.

“It’s been precisely seven weeks. Bedroom. Now.”

He almost growled, his accent turning sharper and accentuating every syllable, as you followed him to his bedroom, eyes widening. It was the first time you two met in his private bedroom, in his own bed. Then again, today would be lots of firsts.

“So… This isn’t a work meeting at all?”

You snickered, following him inside the stuffy bedroom, cringing slightly at the decoration.

Tony scoffed, shaking his head, already unbuttoning his blouse, gesturing you with his chin to get on the bed.

“As if. I pretty much gave you this promotion, knowing I’d get a weekly long meeting with you…”

He snickered, proud of himself, as you rolled your eyes, also unbuttoning your blouse. Pulled by him or not, you knew you were perfect in that promotion, and that even work wise, you deserved it. But you’d act scandalised another day. Currently, the sight of him taking his blouse off was rewiring your mind on more erotic fields, and you discreetly dug your hand in your trousers, starting to bend your penis in the erect position, holding it still, for the erection to start. As you felt yourself successfully getting hard, your hand slowly pumped your length, an excited grin on your face, as Tony fumbled with his fancy blouse.

You chuckled.

“Having some troubles...?”

You teased him, as he scoffed, getting it off, throwing the silk in a corner of the stuffed room, landing on an empty dog basket.

“I’ll give you some trouble…”

He retorted, his hands moving to his trousers, taking them off. As his hands worked with the button and zipper, he smirked, slurring:

“I bet you missed it, didn’t you?”

He almost purred, his voice as smooth as honey, like he usually did when trying to seduce you. You smiled, amused, before shrugging.

“Sure, I did. But… Shouldn’t we test my brand-new anatomy?”

You smirked, spreading a leg, eager to finally do it. Months, you had spent fantasising on it, for it was slowly becoming concrete. And now, there it was! You could fuck him. It had become such a huge fantasy of yours, to see him crumbling under you, to feel him around your length…

Though to be fair, by doing it, it will become extremely hard to not quip ‘already did!’, when someone at work would say ‘Fuck Tony Baddingham’.

Tony stopped himself, blinking, looking away for a bit. Then, he nervously chuckled, shaking his head.

“…Sure. As if they moulded it as big as m-mine…”

He snickered, taking a cocky and arrogant stance, as you raised an eyebrow.

“Size doesn’t’ matter, Tone. If it did, I’d already have gone to Rupert.”

You smirked, to rile him up. It worked, for he glared at you.

“Well, aren’t you so fucking funny?”

He snarled, as you rolled your eyes, amused. Why didn’t he want to try it out?

“Why the hell not, though?”

You asked him, an eyebrow raised.

“It isn’t some limp flesh, and you know it. I have an implant, it can get hard…Sure no semen comes out, but… a clear liquid can, almost like precum. It’s from some glands, that were preserved from my old reproductive system, and that I didn’t get rid of.”

You explained, your face turning a bit still. You were so eager for it, why wasn’t he? Tony pinched his lips, looking away.

“Which is fine and dandy. But I do the fucking, don’t I?”

He mumbled, almost pouty. Almost as if… He could not allow himself to be taken just yet. You grumbled softly, looking at him.

Tony was a man of words. A man who succeeded in life, and business, by shit tons of privileges, but also words. He talked his way to many things. And so will you.

“…Come over here.”

You murmured to him, sat on the bed, as he was still standing up. He reluctantly came closer to you, his eyes finding yours.

“I think you don’t get it, do you?”

You murmured, as he frowned.

“You don’t get it, how much you turn me on. How much I think of you, under me, begging for me to fuck you harder. You don’t get how aroused I am, at the thought of you bouncing on my cock, sucking in it, or begging for more fingers in your tight, posh hole. You don’t get how you are to me, when you unravel.”

You continued, as his eyes widened, his jaw clenching, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, visibly getting turned on.

“You’re a bloody vision. Goddamnit, Tony. I want to fuck you, so fucking hard. Make you mine. Have you all… yourself. I want to fuck Tony, not Lord Baddingham.”

You mumbled, looking at him, your hand slowly gliding to his belt, as you took his reaction in. He was staring at you, the engines of his brain working.

“…Fuck it.”

He suddenly spat out, getting on his knees, eagerly tugging your trousers down. You groaned, also pulling them down, taking off your boxers at the same time. Your erection sprung out, and Tony moaned.

“Fuck you were right…”

He murmured, his eyes staring at it, like in a trance.

“It’s bloody glorious.”

He whispered, his voice almost shaking, as you softly gripped his hair.

“And it’s all yours. Put your mouth on it. I know you’ve been dreaming on it too…”

You murmured, your voice low and husky in desire. Tony swallowed one last time, before nodding taking a tentative lick at the base, directly at the tip, where the liquid from your previous glands were leaking, almost like precum.

“Gosh… You taste the same…”

He murmured, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. You knew he loved your taste. So did you, to be fair. It was always a delight to taste yourself on his mouth.

“Wrap your lips around it. I’m sure you know how to give proper head, or do I have to teach you?”

You smirked, softly gripping his hair. He grumbled wrapping his lips around your base, before he moaned softly at the sensation, sending vibrations through your length. You tensed, feeling the intense pleasure, both physical, but also emotional. It felt so perfect to be able to do this, in the right, with the right body for you. You could almost felt tears prickling in again.

At first, Tony was slow with his mouth. He was bobbing his head softly, exploring the flesh and the new sensation with his tongue and lips, as you slowly guided him with your hand. But soon enough, his bobbing turned faster and more hurried, as you felt saliva dripping from his mouth to all around your length, dripping down to your pubic hair. You grunted, gripping his hair harder, as he clumsily tried to take it all.

“Ease up, baby. You can do this, do it slowly, at your rhythm…”

You murmured, your voice hushed by the pleasure. But Tony kept on going, his mind set.

“N-No… Want to take it all… Can take it all…”

He grumbled, eager to prove himself, as he choked again on your length, trying. You sighed softly, guiding his mouth slower.

“Fucking hell, you’re so perfect, Tone… Just keep sucking, you’re being perfect…”

You murmured, as Tony felt his skin shiver at the praise. Like always, he loved it. But while exposing his more vulnerable self, praising felt like a soothing balm to his opened wounds. His hand moved to your sack, cupping it, slowly massaging it, as you smiled at the intention. It felt nice, and added to the stimulation, it was divine.

“God, just like that…”

You grunted, as Tony kept on busying his mouth with his length, now eagerly sucking it, despite the still presence of his clumsiness, due to his lack of experience in doing it.

Finally, you decided to pull him away, as he grunted, at the loss of contact. You chuckled, shaking your head, making him lay in the bed with you.

“You…are getting the fuck of a lifetime.”

You smirked, echoing the numerous times he said it to you. He tensed in pleasure and anticipation, his lips stretching in a grin.

You started to pepper kisses down his body, covering neck with eager kisses, then his chest, stopping at his nipples, to play with them. You used the flick of your tongue to eagerly suckle at it, as his throat escaped grunts of pleasure. Your lips continued its path to his stomach, kissing his happy trail of hair, before you got to his crotch. You snickered, pulling his pants down, purposely skipping his groin. He groaned, squirming.

“Seriously? I gave you head, and-”

He started, as you interrupted him.

“Shut the fuck up… This will feel better than head.”

You snickered, before freeing his arse from his pants. You settled yourself cozily between his legs, as he started to figure out your intents.

“I-I… I haven’t shaved or anything… And I only took a shower this morning, and-”

He trailed, almost embarrassed, his vulnerability seeping through, as you decided to shut his insecurities up, by showing him how acceptant you were. ­Really acceptant.

You lapped up a stripe at his most intimate area, your tongue finding its way between his crack, to further entice him. He tensed, gasping, as you immediately went back there, this time with a goal. His hole. You licked at his most sensitive spot, like a starved man. You lubricated it, but most importantly, devoured him. You wanted him to feel desired, and you wanted to feel his hole clench around your tongue. You wanted to hear his gasps, moans, whimpers of embarrassment and pleasure. And god, did they feel amazing.

“O-Oh! Oh, fuck, you-! You crazy fucker, you can’t just- god, yes!”

He cried out, as you slurped, licked, moaned, slid your tongue around. After a few torturous minutes of you devouring his arse, you pulled away, slowly sliding a finger on his crack.

“I’ll go… easy and gentle. You tell me when it’s too much, or if it hurts, okay?”

You murmured to him, your eyes clouded by lust, as he nodded, his body almost shaking.

First, the tip of your middle finger. Just the first knuckle, slowly sliding in, as he gasped and clenched around you, his hole almost swallowing you up, eager for more. You went on to slide it in fully, as he let out a curse, gripping the sheet.

You smirked, slowly thrusting your finger, moving it around gently, to have him get used to the sensation. Clearly, he was loving it, the sneaky bastard, with the scrunch of his face, and his filthy moans. After a bit, you sneaked in the second finger, as slowly as you could, as his moans turned into actual groans.

“Fuck! Fuck yes, yes…. Like that, like-”

He gasped his back arching, as you caressed his thigh, your fingers still moving. If Tony had always seemed reserved, his body wasn’t. It was hungry, starving.

After the third finger passed, minutes later, you knew you could finally do it. Truth to be told, if you didn’t, you feared he’d just fire you. He was… eager.

“For fuck’s sake, just fuck me! Fuck me, damn it, just stick your big cock inside of me!”

Tony snapped, sitting up, his hair messy, his composure long lost. Needless, to say, you pounced on him like an animal, yourself also way too riled up.

You still managed to gently line your length to his entrance, lubing it up with as much spit as you could, and some lube that stood on the bedside table (you didn’t’ want to delve more on its presence), before finally entering him. Your eyes met as it happened, and you both gasped, utterly stunned by the pleasurable sensation.

You felt tears prickling, yet again. God, it was too good. Fucking him, you were fucking him! Your hips moved, as your tears of joy and pleasure streamed down your cheeks, and your hands rested on his chest.

“Fuck yeah, Tone… That’s right, take it…”

You choked out, your words slurred by lust and pleasure, as Tony was taking deep breaths, his back arching, himself also losing control.

“J-Just… God, yes. Fuck me, fuck me darling…”

He gasped, his hand holding to the back of your neck, bringing you closer for a heated kiss, your tongues delving in each other’s mouths. Perhaps it was an impression, or simply your own tears, but you felt as if he was crying as well.

Crying of pleasure, sobbing of utter pleasure. Surrendering himself to the one person who didn’t care about the Lord Baddingham, but simply himself, you.

“G-God, I love you so much…”

He choked out, his voice and his mind overtaken by his feelings. At his words, your eyes widened, and your pace accelerated, your mouth finding his again in heated kisses.

“I love you too… I love you too, Tone…”

You murmured, kissing his lips, holding him tight, like his body and his mind was silently begging you to do, the bed creaking and banging against the wall.

You kept on going, until you felt him clench tightly around you, and saw some cum landing on your joined stomachs, now softly sticking due to the semen. A wave of pleasure crashed over you, another type of orgasm, that was both physical and mental, and you collapsed next to Tony, still holding him.

Your first time like this. Your first time with him, like this, in your body. You kept on softly sobbing in joy, the sunlight peeking through the curtains, shining on your tears, as you laughed.

“God… It was amazing…”

Tony said, wrapping an arm around you, gruffly kissing your head, smiling, as you nodded, ready for one of another rare session of aftercare, and noisy kisses.

“Yeah… The fuck of a lifetime.”

You concluded, grinning.

[hockeyluvrr]

Since you said you are a swiftie as am I. Can I request Luke Hughes with a swiftie girlfriend. Her just explaining the meaning of songs too him and why Taylor does Taylor’s version

of course! thank you so much for requesting! this is actually my first fic ever on here so I hope I did a good enough job! I hope you like it! 🫶🏻

MASTERLIST

Taylor’s Version || lh43

word count : 753

gif is not mine!

It was one of those rare evenings where Luke had no plans, no NHL games and had nothing but free time. He was laying on the couch in your shared apartment while you were kneeling on the floor surrounded by your collection of Taylor Swift CDs and vinyls.

You had practically begged Luke all week for him to let you play him Taylor’s music so he could, in your words, listen to it the right way. Finally with a free night, and a bribe of pizza, you had him exactly where you wanted him.

“So, you ready for your Taylor Swift lesson?” You grinned as you flipped through your vinyls and CDs.

“Do I have a choice?” He joked.

“Absolutely not.” You smile before placing the Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) vinyl on the record player, listening as the melody of Enchanted (Taylor’s Version) started playing.

“So, what’s this song?” Luke speaks up after a minute of listening.

“So, this song is called ‘Enchanted’. It’s this song about feeling that instant connection when you first meet someone. Like when you click with someone and you’re hoping with everything within you that they felt the same thing you did.”

“Oh, like when we first met?” Luke teased slightly with a small smirk.

Your cheeks flush slightly as you nod. “Yeah, pretty much. I swear when we first met all I was thinking was, ‘Please don’t be in love with someone else.’” Luke’s smile only widened at your words.

“You’re so cheesy, you know that baby?”

“Just a little bit.” You joke.

You both sat there for a little while, just listening to the song. Luke surprisingly found himself tapping his fingers on his thigh to the melody. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be into Taylor’s music as much you are, but he was slowly beginning to understand why her music meant so much to you.

“Hey baby?” Luke speaks up when the song finishes, the start of ‘Better Than Revenge’ playing as he does.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you have two versions of the same album?” He asks pointing at the vinyls of the original album and the rerecorded album.

“Oh, you mean Taylor’s Versions? Let me explain.” You say, a bit excited to explain this to your boyfriend. “Okay, so basically Taylor’s Versions are re-recorded versions of the original albums she released.”

“Why does she need to re-record them? Aren’t they already her songs?” Luke muttered, clearly confused.

“Well technically yes, she wrote them but she doesn’t own them.”

“Wait, what? I thought if you wrote the song, it was yours.”

“You’d think so, right? But, it’s complicated. She wrote the songs, but her label owned the masters. That means that she didn’t have control go how her music was used, the label did.”

“That’s messed up.”

“Exactly!” You smile, glad Luke was following your explanation. “So, a few years ago, the label was sold. And when it was sold, so were her masters. But the guy who sold them didn’t tell her they were being sold and so she never had a chance to buy her own masters. So, she decided that instead of accepting that she didn’t own them, she decided to re-record all her old albums so that she could own the new versions…aka Taylor’s Version.”

“Woah…that’s actually pretty smart. So, she’s taking back control, one album at a time?”

“Yeah, that’s why us swifties are so passionate about Taylor’s Version. It’s more than the music, it’s about her taking back what’s rightfully hers.”

Luke nods at your explanation before laying back on the couch. “I get why you like her so much now. Thank you for explaining everything to me, even if I don’t understand every little detail.”

“That’s okay, I like explain everything to you. It’s like how you explain all your hockey stuff to me, that’s your way of sharing a little bit of your world with me and this is my way.” You smile as you lean against the front of the couch, Luke’s hand automatically coming up to brush gently through your hair.

As you both sat there in comfortable silence, with Taylor’s voice echoing softly in the background, you felt your heart swell in happiness. You were glad Luke was willing to listen to and understand Taylor’s music, it meant everything to you.

“Alright,” Luke spoke, breaking the comfortable silence. “Play me another album.”

You smiled widely as you reached for your vinyl of Red (Taylor’s Version). “You’re in for a treat, baby.”

[milaisreading]

Hiii there i hope you being fine and healty. Can i ask world 5 reaction when CD Y/N turn into toddler. It's okay if you dont want to just hope you doing fine and well (>^<)/

🌱🩷: Hi, Anon! Hope you like what I wrote here and thanks for the request! Hope you are doing fine as well🫶🏻

Warnings: Reader is crossdressing here, so I am using a mix of she/her and he/him. Requests are open.

⚽️Blue lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"EGO!!"

The man could feel his heart leap out as Anri's voice echoed through the room as she slammed the door open.

"What?!" He yelled back in annoyance, but that act soon dropped when he saw the woman's worried look as she ran up to his desk.

"(Y/n) is missing! I can't find her anywhere! What if she got lost in the building?! Or what if she wandered outside?!"

"Hold up. Hold up. Take a deep breath. What do you mean you can't find (Y/n)?" Ego asked as he slowly got up. Anri took a few deep breaths, trying to collect all her thoughts before speaking up again.

"Lavinho and Chris were supposed to watch over her. And now they lost her. Fhey said they looked away for just a few seconds and she was gone."

Ego graoned at the mention of them and was about to ask why nobody supervised them, but Anri quickly spoke up.

"Before you say anything, nobody else could do it. Loki went to meet up with Luna, Cavasoz, Silva, and Blake. Snuffy went to check up on Niko and Sendou, they caught a stomach flue. And as for Noa, he was called by the team for some help. We were really out of options." Anri quickly finished explained, then finally took a few deep breaths as Ego tried to keep calm.

'Calm down, Ego. Nothing happened to her. She is fine. We will just need to check out the whole building.'

"Alright, alright. Call over Noa and Snuffy, Chris and Lavinho as well."

"And Loki?"

"Let that kid rest for today. Just call over the adults." Ego said as he pointed at the door and slowly sat back down. Anri nodded her head and ran off to the different stratums to get the four.

'God...' Ego sighed in frustration.

Meanwhile...

'Great... I got lost now. Where am I even?' (Y/n) gulped as she looked around the place. Everything was much bigger than her and the hallway looked unfamiliar from her perspective.

'Stupid body! Why was I so small when I was 3?!' She frowned as slowly walked while looking at everything in confusion. From time to time, she would hear loud voices or things dropping, which made her panic even more.

'Where are Anri and Ego?!' She bit her lip while nervously playing with her hands.

"I am just saying, Leo! That was a foul you just did!"

"No, it was not! The robots would have reacted, Dada!"

"Calm down, you two. Let's just continue playing."

The girl froze in her spot as she heard the familiar voices of Luna, Silva, and Blake.

'What are they doing here?! Nobody told me they would be here! And I am a toddler now, this is so embarrassing.' (Y/n)'s face turned red as she looked at the door to her left.

'Why couldn't I have turned into a hot, 2o something years old?!' She pouted, but quickly shook her head as she thought what to do next.

'Should I leave?! Where am I supposed to even go? I don't even know where I am!'

While thinking over her next move, she didn't notice a figure approaching her, looking as confused as ever at the sight of the toddler.

"Now, who are you? Why are you all alone here?"

(Y/n) let out a shriek as two arms picked her up.

'Wow! Weird to see everything this way...'

"Now, whose child are you? And how did you get here?"

'That voice!' (Y/n)'s eyes widened as she was turned around to see Pablo looking at her in confusion.

'C-cute! I love him!' She thought with stars in her eyes as the man raised an eyebrow.

"Hmm? You probably don't understand me. I will ask Loki instead, maybe he knows more. And it wouldn't be smart to let you just wander around." Pablo spoke as he walked towards the door where the rest were.

'Maybe being so small isn't that bad.' She thought with a red face while hugging Pablo around his neck.

"You, guys, do you know whose kid this is? Loki, do you know something?"

The four players stopped talking, or arguing, (Y/n) couldn't tell, and looked over at Pablo.

"What kid?- Why is a toddler here?" Silva asked in confusion as Luna and Blake stood next to him in a dumbfounded manner.

"(Y/n)?! Why are you here?!" Loki asked in surprise as he ran over to the two.

"(Y/n)? Isn't that the name of that guy we played against once?" Blake raised an eyebrow as Luna's face paled.

"Yep. Him." Loki answered trying to take (Y/n) from Pablo, but the girl only whined and tightened her grip around Pablo.

"Nyuuu!" She yelled and frowned at Loki, much to the boy's surprise.

"Hey- It's me, (Y/n). Loki, you know? Come here." He said more softly now, but the girl huffed as Pablo looked down at her.

"Looks like he doesn't want to leave."

Adam decided to move closer to look at the Blue Lock player while Silva and Luna stayed behind.

"That's weird. How did he become a toddler, tho?" The Brazilian asked as Loki looked over at him.

"I don't know. Kaiser and Ness just found him like this one morning."

"What do you mean by that? That's a player my team wants. How do we explain this to the higher-ups?" Luna finally spoke up, still shocked by what he was seeing.

"Hey now, down." Silva said as he patted the blonde on the back.

"He seems very clingy with Pablo. Should he be his babysitter?" Adam questioned as he poked (Y/n)'s cheek, to which the the girl ended up blushing.

'Whoever turned me into a toddler, thank you!'

Pablo smiled a little as Loki pouted.

"Well, if I am his favorite, sure- Hey!"The Argentinian panicked as (Y/n) jumped towards Adam, who quickly caught her.

"Seems like you aren't~" Loki smirked as Pablo sent him a side glare.

'This is heaven.' She thought as Adam held her. The Brit was taken aback a little.

"Or I should take care of him?"

"This is a mess..." Luna muttered as both him and Silva joined them.

"Well, now what?" Adam asked as (Y/n) rested her head against his chest.

'Life is good...'

After like 30 minutes of arguing on what to do, it was decided that they will take care of the girl. One thing that helped their decision making was (Y/n) refusing, even crying when suggested to bring her back to Ego and Anri. So now, (Y/n) was sat on Luna's lap as Silva fed her some food Loki was able to snatch from the dining hall.

"Ahh~ See! Doesn't taste bad!" Silva chuckled as (Y/n) started chewing on the food.

"Yuck!" She frowned as Luna laughed at the reaction.

"Eat up!"

Reluctantly, she nodded her head and continued eating as Pablo and Adam continued staring at her.

"I guess the food isn't the best. What is in there even?"

"Some vegetables and tofu... I guess it wasn't much to his taste." Loki answered, still a little pouty that (Y/n) would rather be with one of them instead of him.

'Do I smell bad or something? Why doesn't he want to be near me? This isn't fair!' Loki frowned as he watched Pablo and Adam pat her head.

'It took me hours to do that... and they did it in a matter of minutes!!'

"Loki! We will go and play with (Y/n) while Luna goes to call the Re Al executives. Wanna join?" Adam asked as Silva picked the girl up.

"He is cute. Nearly as cute as me." Pablo said as he continued pinching her cheek.

"Hm? Yeah, sure." Loki nodded his head as he followed after the trio and toddler.