#just screaming because of how distressed i felt in the moment over that. I felt like i wasnt understood

[enemiestolovershoe]

hey :) .. i‘m in desperate need for a very fluffy fic with chris and bsf!reader where reader went to the triplets house earlier that day and ever since she was off. she crashed on the couch and as chris went to the kitchen to get some pepsi he saw that the lights are still one and reader is still up. crying. he askes whats wrong (you make something up) and chris is comforting her in the end and they end up cuddling falling asleep on the couch. :) thank you so much

Shattered Trust

Christ Sturniolo x bsf!reader

Summary: After Y/N’s world shatters from betrayal, Chris offers her comfort and support, helping her navigate the painful path of healing and rediscovery.

Words: 5k

Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Emotional Hurt, Mild swearing, Crying, Emotional Distress, Betrayal

The glowing screen of your phone illuminated your tear-streaked face as you typed out a message. Your hands trembled, but you forced yourself to hit send:

Hey, Chris, are you busy?

It only took a few seconds for the reply to pop up.

Not at all. What’s up?

You hesitated, debating whether to tell him the truth or to brush it off as nothing. The thought of sitting in your room, replaying the betrayal over and over, was unbearable. You needed a distraction, somewhere to go, people to be with—people who felt safe.

Can I come over? you finally typed.

Chris’s reply came faster this time.

Of course. We were just about to pick a movie. You coming over for our movie night?

You blinked at the screen. You’d completely forgotten tonight was one of your monthly traditions with the triplets. Normally, the thought would’ve excited you, but now it just felt like a lifeline.

Yeah, movie night sounds good. Be there in 15.

Chris stood in the living room, holding his phone with a faint smile. "Y/N's coming over," he announced to Nick and Matt, who were sprawled across the couch, arguing about which movie to watch.

"Finally," Nick grinned, tossing a piece of popcorn at Matt. "I was about to call her myself. It’s her turn to pick the snacks anyway."

Matt raised an eyebrow. "You sure she doesn’t just want to escape from her crazy family? Remember that time she showed up because her mom and sister were having a screaming match over hair dye?"

Chris shrugged. "I don’t care why she’s coming. She asked, so she’s welcome."

As you drove through the quiet streets, your mind drifted back to the moment everything shattered.

Your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, you corrected yourself—had always been charming, maybe too charming. You’d never questioned his late nights or the way he sometimes avoided your gaze when your sister was around. You’d trusted him completely.

But a week ago, you’d come home early from a canceled lunch with friends, only to find the two of them tangled up on the couch. The image was burned into your memory, along with the sound of their voices stumbling over excuses.

"Y/N, it’s not what it looks like," he’d said, his voice dripping with guilt.

"Seriously?" you’d spat, unable to even look at your sister. "How long has this been going on?"

Your sister had said nothing, just stood there, avoiding your eyes. That silence had hurt more than anything he could’ve said.

Pulling into the Sturniolos’ driveway, you wiped your eyes and practiced a smile in the mirror. The triplets didn’t know what had happened, and you weren’t ready to tell them. Tonight needed to be about something else, anything else.

Chris opened the door before you could even knock. "Hey, you made it!" he greeted, pulling you into a quick hug. "You okay?"

You nodded, forcing your practiced smile. "Yeah, just needed some company."

"Well, you’re in luck," Nick called from the couch, waving the remote. "We were about to watch something, but Matt refuses to watch anything fun. Save us."

"Hey!" Matt protested. "At least I pick movies with actual plots."

"Sure, if by 'plot,' you mean boring dialogue and depressing endings," Nick shot back.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Ignore them. You want something to drink? Snacks? Or just want to settle in and pick the movie?"

You hesitated, but the warmth of their familiar banter started to thaw the icy weight in your chest. "I’ll take snacks and the remote," you said with a weak laugh.

"Now that’s the Y/N we know," Chris said, his smile softening as he led you into the living room.

You flopped onto the couch with a sigh, curling into the corner as Nick and Matt argued over yet another movie choice.

"Okay, but why would we watch Inception right now? It’s like three hours long, and my brain’s not ready for all that," Nick said, waving his hands in exasperation.

"Because it’s a good movie," Matt shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah, but good doesn’t mean fun, and I’m in the mood for fun," Nick retorted.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, your first real laugh in what felt like days. "How about The Hangover?" you suggested, cutting through their debate.

Three pairs of eyes turned to you.

"Classic choice," Chris said with an approving nod.

"Finally, someone with taste," Nick said, glaring at Matt.

Matt rolled his eyes. "Fine. At least it’s better than whatever Nick would’ve picked."

"Excuse me, my taste is immaculate," Nick replied, throwing a handful of popcorn in Matt’s direction.

Chris handed you the remote and stood. "I’ll grab some snacks. Pepsi okay?"

"Perfect," you said, your voice soft but grateful.

A few minutes later, Chris returned with a can of Pepsi and a small bowl of your favorite chocolate. He placed them on the table in front of you, giving you a brief, searching look.

"You good?" he asked quietly, his voice low enough that Nick and Matt wouldn’t hear.

You nodded quickly, not trusting your voice. "Thanks, Chris."

He didn’t push further, just gave you a small smile before sitting down next to you.

As the opening credits of The Hangover rolled, you settled into your corner of the couch. Nick had sprawled out on the floor with a blanket, Matt took the recliner, and Chris sat beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours.

The room quickly filled with laughter as the movie’s chaotic antics unfolded. For the first time in a week, you felt a little lighter, the ache in your chest dulled by the comfort of their company.

"Okay, but how does no one realize there’s a tiger in the bathroom until it’s too late?" Nick asked between bouts of laughter.

"Because they were all blacked out, genius," Matt replied, tossing a kernel of popcorn at him.

"Still. I would’ve noticed a tiger," Nick said with mock seriousness.

You smiled, shaking your head. "No, you wouldn’t. You’d be too busy freaking out over a missing tooth."

Chris chuckled beside you, his gaze lingering on your face. When you glanced over, he quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the screen.

It happened again a few minutes later during one of the movie’s funniest scenes. You caught Chris watching you out of the corner of your eye, his expression soft, almost worried.

"Chris," you whispered, leaning toward him slightly.

"Yeah?" He looked at you, his face unreadable.

"You don’t have to keep staring. I’m okay," you said, forcing a small smile.

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. "I wasn’t staring."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe a little," he admitted, his voice lowering. "I just… You seem different tonight."

Your stomach twisted at his words, but you quickly shook your head. "Just tired, that’s all."

Chris hesitated but nodded, letting it drop. "Well, if you need anything, just let me know," he said softly.

"Thanks, Chris," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

As the movie continued, you tried to focus on the humor, on the familiar warmth of being with the triplets. But Chris’s quiet concern lingered in the back of your mind, making you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he saw through the smile you were trying so hard to keep.

As the credits of The Hangover Part III rolled, Matt stretched with a dramatic yawn and stood up.

"Alright, I’m done," he announced, rubbing his eyes. "If I watch one more scene of Alan’s nonsense, I might lose my mind."

"You lost it a long time ago," Nick quipped, earning a glare from Matt.

"Whatever. I’m going to bed. Night, Y/N," Matt said with a small wave before disappearing down the hall.

Nick was quick to follow, gathering his blanket and pillow. "Yeah, I’m out too. Y/N, make sure Chris doesn’t make you watch some artsy indie movie if you guys stay up," he said with a wink.

"Goodnight, Nick," you replied with a soft laugh.

As their doors closed, Chris turned to you. "It’s pretty late," he said, glancing at the clock. "You sure you’re okay to drive? You could crash here if you want."

You hesitated, but the idea of going back home, back to the empty room where every corner reminded you of betrayal, was unbearable. "Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you guys."

"Y/N," Chris said firmly, his eyes meeting yours. "You could never bother us. Stay."

You nodded. "Okay. I’ll take the couch, then."

Chris got up and grabbed a blanket from the hallway closet. He draped it over you carefully, his hand lingering on the back of the couch for a moment. "If you need anything, just knock on my door, alright?"

"I will. Thanks, Chris," you said quietly.

"Goodnight," he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

"Goodnight."

As soon as he was gone, the silence of the room felt overwhelming. You curled up under the blanket, the warm fabric doing little to shield you from the cold ache in your chest.

You pulled out your phone, hoping for a distraction, but the sight of an unread message made your heart sink. It was from your sister.

Why are you ghosting me? We need to talk.

Your breath hitched as the words blurred on the screen. She had the nerve to text you, to act as though everything could be fixed with a conversation. Fresh tears welled up, and before you could stop them, they spilled over.

You pressed your hand to your mouth, trying to muffle the sound of your sobs. The last thing you wanted was for the triplets to hear. They didn’t know, and you weren’t sure you could bring yourself to tell them.

In his room, Chris lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Something about tonight wasn’t sitting right with him. You’d been quiet, more than usual. The message you sent earlier had been short, almost hesitant, and now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen or heard from you all week.

Chris frowned, running a hand through his hair. He hated seeing you like this—guarded, distant. It wasn’t like you to pull away, not from them.

He turned onto his side, closing his eyes and willing himself to sleep. But it was no use. His mind kept replaying little moments from the night—the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, the way you flinched when he asked if you were okay, the way you seemed to deflate the second Matt and Nick left the room.

Something was wrong. He didn’t know what, but he was sure of it.

Back in the living room, you wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoodie, but the tears kept coming. The betrayal, the pain, the gnawing guilt of not telling the triplets—it all felt like too much.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block it all out, but sleep wouldn’t come. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw your sister’s name on your screen, her message taunting you, demanding an answer you couldn’t give.

You wanted to tell Chris, Nick, and Matt everything. You wanted to spill it all, to let them comfort you like they always did. But the words felt trapped in your throat, too heavy to say out loud.

And besides, they were probably asleep by now.

What you didn’t know was that Chris wasn’t asleep. He was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, still thinking about you. And something told him he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep tonight.

Chris tossed and turned in his bed, staring at the ceiling for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Sleep just wouldn’t come. His thoughts kept drifting back to you—your forced smiles, the way you’d seemed a little too quiet all night. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

With a sigh, he gave up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, noting the time: 2:37 a.m.

"Great," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

He decided a Pepsi might help, so he padded quietly out of his room and into the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise. The kitchen and living room were joined, and he didn’t want to accidentally wake you.

As he opened the fridge, the faint sound of a muffled sob reached his ears. Chris froze, his hand hovering over the soda can.

He turned his head toward the couch, his brow furrowing. The room was dim, but he could see your figure curled under the blanket, your shoulders trembling.

"Y/N?" he called softly, stepping away from the fridge.

You stiffened, biting your lip to keep any more sounds from escaping. But it was too late—he’d already heard you.

Chris approached the couch slowly, his heart sinking at the sight of you trying to hide your tears. Without a word, he sat down beside you, the couch dipping slightly under his weight.

You turned your head away, wiping at your face furiously, but Chris wasn’t having it. Gently, he laid a hand on your head, his fingers threading through your hair in a soothing motion.

"Hey," he said softly. "What’s wrong, hm?"

"Nothing," you whispered, your voice cracking.

"Y/N," he said firmly, though his tone remained gentle. "Please. Tell me. We both know something’s hurting you. You can tell me anything, I promise."

You shook your head stubbornly, clutching the blanket tighter around yourself.

Chris sighed but didn’t pull away. "Okay," he said after a moment. "How about this? If you don’t want Matt or Nick to know, I won’t tell them. Whatever it is, it’ll stay between us. I swear."

You hesitated, his words making the weight on your chest feel just a little lighter. Taking a shaky breath, you sat up, letting the blanket fall to your lap. Chris stayed close, watching you carefully, his concern etched across his face.

Your eyes fixed on the ceiling as you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "Jason cheated."

Chris blinked, his jaw tightening. He opened his mouth to say something, but you held up a hand, stopping him.

"And it wasn’t just with anyone," you continued, your voice breaking. "It was with my sister."

The words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Chris stared at you, his eyes wide with shock, his mouth slightly open as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard.

You looked down at your lap, your fingers twisting in the blanket. The silence felt suffocating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

Finally, Chris found his voice. "Y/N..." he started, but his words trailed off, as if he didn’t know where to begin.

Chris sat there for a moment, stunned into silence. His mind reeled at your words, trying to process the betrayal you’d just revealed. But as he looked at you—your trembling hands, the tears that streamed down your cheeks—his shock quickly gave way to something else: protectiveness.

Without hesitating, Chris moved closer, sliding an arm around your shoulders. His touch was warm and steady, grounding you even as your emotions threatened to spiral.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t even know what to say… but I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve that. Not from him. And definitely not from her."

His words broke something loose inside you, and the tears came harder, pouring down your face and soaking the neckline of your shirt. You buried your face in your hands, your body trembling as you let out the sobs you’d been holding back for days.

"How could they do this to me, Chris?" you choked out between sobs. "My own sister… she knew everything—everything Jason and I had been through. And she still—" You couldn’t even finish the sentence.

Chris felt a sharp pang in his chest. Seeing you like this—completely broken—made his blood boil. He wanted to storm out, to confront Jason, to demand answers from your sister, but he knew none of that would help you right now. Right now, you needed him here.

"They’re both selfish," he said firmly, his voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath the surface. "They didn’t think about you at all, and that’s on them. That’s not your fault, Y/N."

You shook your head, tears still streaming. "But it feels like it is… I keep thinking, ‘What did I do wrong? Was I not enough?’"

Chris grabbed your hands, gently pulling them away from your face. "Hey, stop that. Don’t do that to yourself," he said, his tone more intense now. "Jason cheated because he’s an idiot who doesn’t know how to value someone amazing when he has them. And your sister…" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "She’s the one who betrayed you, not the other way around. You’re not to blame for any of this. Not even a little."

You tried to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. The weight of everything—the betrayal, the heartbreak, the shame—was too much.

Chris seemed to sense that. He didn’t say anything more, just pulled you into a hug, wrapping both arms around you tightly. Your head fell against his chest, and he rested his chin lightly on top of your hair.

"Just let it out," he murmured, stroking your back in soothing circles. "I’m right here. You don’t have to hold it in anymore."

The dam broke. You clung to him as if he were the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely, your tears soaking into his shirt. Chris didn’t flinch or pull away. If anything, he held you tighter, his hand continuing its steady rhythm on your back.

"It’s okay," he whispered, his voice soft but firm. "Cry as much as you need to. I’m not going anywhere."

And he didn’t. Chris stayed there, holding you like you were the most fragile and important thing in the world. Even as your sobs wracked your body, he remained calm, offering the kind of quiet strength you desperately needed.

Minutes passed, though it felt like time stood still. Slowly, your crying began to subside, your breaths becoming less ragged. But Chris didn’t let go, not until he was sure you were ready.

The warmth of Chris’s embrace began to steady your breathing, though your body still felt heavy with exhaustion. Slowly, you pulled away, your hands resting in your lap as you avoided his gaze. Chris leaned back slightly, giving you space, but his concern didn’t waver.

Your eyes were puffy and swollen from crying, your cheeks streaked with drying tears. Chris reached out, his thumb gently wiping a stray tear that lingered.

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. "Let’s try and get some sleep, okay?" he said softly, his voice warm and steady. "It’s been a lot tonight, but it’s going to get better. I promise."

You nodded wordlessly, lying back down on the couch and pulling the blanket up to your chin. The headache from crying so much throbbed behind your eyes, and you couldn’t deny how tired you felt.

As you settled in, you expected Chris to stand and head back to his room. But instead, he surprised you. Without saying a word, he shifted to lie down behind you, sliding in close and wrapping an arm protectively around your waist.

You stiffened for a moment, startled by the gesture. "Chris… you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to," you protested, your voice soft and hesitant.

Chris’s hold didn’t falter. He rested his chin lightly against the top of your head and hushed you gently. "Shhh," he murmured. "I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. We’ll get through this together, okay? You don’t have to do this alone."

His words, spoken with such quiet determination, made your chest tighten. You felt tears prick at your eyes again, though this time they weren’t from sadness.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you, Chris." Your voice cracked slightly, but you meant every word.

He gave your waist a small squeeze. "Always," he said simply, his tone carrying a weight of sincerity that made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t in days.

The steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his arm around you, and the comfort of knowing he wasn’t going to leave finally allowed your body to relax. The headache and emotional exhaustion took over, and before you knew it, your eyes fluttered shut.

Chris stayed awake a little longer, watching over you as your breathing evened out. He held you close, his heart breaking a little as he thought about everything you’d gone through. But more than anything, he was determined to be there for you, no matter what it took.

Finally, a small, tired smile crossed his lips as he rested his head against the pillow, letting sleep claim him too—right there with you in his arms.

The morning light crept through the blinds as Nick shuffled groggily into the living room, his eyes barely open. He stretched with a yawn, heading toward the fridge for something to drink. As he turned toward the couch, he froze mid-step.

At first, he blinked a few times, convinced he was still half-asleep. "What the…" he muttered, rubbing his eyes dramatically. The sight before him—Chris curled up behind you on the couch, his arm draped protectively around your waist—was not something he’d ever expected to see.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked aloud to no one in particular. After a moment of staring in disbelief, he turned and bolted down the hall.

"Matt!" Nick hissed, bursting into his brother’s room.

Matt groaned, burying his face in his pillow. "Nick, if this isn’t an emergency, I swear—"

"It is!" Nick interrupted, shaking Matt’s shoulder. "You need to see this. Like, right now."

Reluctantly, Matt sat up, his hair a mess and his expression sour. "This better be good," he grumbled, throwing the blanket off and following Nick back to the living room.

When he caught sight of the two of you on the couch, his annoyance vanished, replaced by wide-eyed surprise.

"Is that…" Matt started, leaning closer to get a better look.

"Yup," Nick whispered, his tone somewhere between shocked and amused.

"Did he finally make a move?" Nick asked, tilting his head.

"I don’t know," Matt replied, scratching the back of his head. "But… doesn’t she have a boyfriend?"

Nick frowned, looking at Matt. "Yeah, she does. At least, I think she does. So… what’s this about?"

Matt shrugged, his brow furrowed. "No clue. But they look pretty cozy."

Nick pulled out his phone, biting his lip to keep from laughing. "Should we ask them? Or should I just take a picture for evidence?"

"Definitely a picture," Matt said, smirking.

Nick nodded, holding his phone up and aiming the camera. Just as he was about to snap the shot, his fingers fumbled, and the phone slipped from his hand.

The loud clatter of the phone hitting the floor echoed through the room, and both you and Chris stirred.

Chris blinked awake first, squinting against the light and taking a second to register what was happening. He glanced down at you still in his arms, then up at Nick and Matt, who were both frozen like deer in headlights.

You woke up a second later, groggy and disoriented. "What’s going on?" you mumbled, sitting up slightly and noticing Chris’s arm still loosely around you.

Nick recovered first, quickly scooping up his phone. "Uh, nothing! Morning! Just… you know… didn’t mean to wake you guys!"

Matt, however, wasn’t as subtle. "So… are we gonna talk about this, or…?" He gestured between the two of you, his brows raised.

Chris rubbed his face, clearly trying to think of a way to explain. "It’s not what it looks like—"

Matt snorted. "Really? ‘Cause it looks like you two were cuddling all night."

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Can we not do this right now?"

Nick crossed his arms, a mischievous grin creeping onto his face. "Oh, we’re definitely doing this right now."

Chris’s body stiffened as he quickly sat up, his expression suddenly serious. His protective instincts kicked in, and he shot a sharp look at Nick, his voice firm. "No, Nick. Seriously. Drop it. It’s not the time."

Nick froze, blinking in confusion at the sudden change in Chris’s tone. He wasn’t used to hearing his brother so... intense. But before he could ask anything more, his gaze shifted to you.

You had your face hidden in your hands, your shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. That’s when it hit Nick. It wasn’t just a casual morning moment between friends. Something was wrong.

Matt’s playful smirk faltered, and his eyes softened as he noticed the tears trailing down your face. His teasing nature immediately gave way to concern. "Y/N…?" he began, but Chris cut him off before either of them could say anything else.

"Look, this is serious," Chris said, his voice still low and full of emotion. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he turned toward Nick and Matt. "You guys don’t know what happened."

Nick looked at him, unsure. "What happened?" he asked, his voice quieter now, sensing the weight behind his brother’s words.

Chris glanced over at you, his heart breaking as he saw how upset you were. He didn’t want to push you, but he also knew you needed support. "Y/N gave me permission to tell you guys," he said softly, then turned to face Matt and Nick fully. "Jason—her boyfriend—cheated on her. With her sister."

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Matt and Nick both looked at each other in stunned silence, their eyes wide with disbelief.

"Wait, what?" Nick whispered, shaking his head in confusion. "He… cheated on her with her sister?"

Chris nodded, his jaw tight with anger. "Yeah. And I know she’s been trying to keep it together, but it’s been eating her up. She didn’t deserve any of this." His voice cracked slightly, the weight of what you were going through becoming even more apparent as he spoke.

You wiped at your eyes, feeling the sting of their stares but too drained to care. Chris’s hand remained on your back, offering what little comfort he could, but you could tell this was a lot for Matt and Nick to process.

Matt was the first to speak up again, his face hardening. "That’s messed up," he muttered, clearly frustrated. "She doesn’t deserve that." He glanced at you, his expression softening. "Y/N, I’m sorry."

Nick nodded in agreement, though his voice was still filled with disbelief. "I… I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell us sooner?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

You sniffed and looked up, finally meeting their eyes. "I didn’t know how to. It hurt too much. I didn’t want to drag anyone into it." Your voice trembled, but you tried to hold it together. "I just needed some time to figure out what to do."

Chris gave your back another reassuring rub, silently telling you it was okay to let them in. He looked up at Matt and Nick, a heavy sigh escaping him. "She needs our support right now, not questions. So please… just… give her space if she wants it."

Matt nodded solemnly, his usual teasing nature now completely gone. "Yeah, of course," he said, his voice softer than before. "You’ve got it, Y/N. Whatever you need."

Nick hesitated for a moment, then gave you a small, almost apologetic smile. "We’re here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone."

You nodded weakly, still feeling the sting of everything that had happened. But for the first time in what felt like days, you felt a small flicker of hope. With Chris, Matt, and Nick by your side, maybe things would start to get better.

Chris’s arm tightened around you once more, offering the quiet comfort of knowing that, for now, you weren’t alone in this.

The room fell into a quiet calm, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. Matt and Nick gave you the space you needed, no longer pressing you with questions. Instead, they offered small, reassuring smiles, letting you know they were there—ready to support you however you needed.

Chris, still sitting close beside you, rubbed your back comfortingly, his presence a silent promise that he wouldn’t leave your side. The warmth of his touch brought a small, but much-needed sense of peace.

After a few moments of silence, you took a shaky breath and finally looked up at Chris. "I don’t know what to do… or where to go from here," you admitted, your voice still thick with emotion.

Chris met your gaze with understanding in his eyes. "You don’t have to have all the answers right now," he said gently. "We’ll figure it out together. One step at a time."

You nodded, feeling the truth of his words sink in. Maybe you didn’t have the answers yet, but you weren’t alone. With Chris, Matt, and Nick by your side, you knew you had the support to get through this.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice breaking again, but this time with gratitude.

Chris smiled softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Always, Y/N. You’ll never have to go through this alone."

As the day began to unfold, you and the triplets spent the rest of the morning together. No more talk of Jason or your sister—just the comfort of knowing you were surrounded by people who cared. Slowly, the pieces of your heart that had shattered started to heal, one moment, one breath at a time.

And for the first time in a while, you felt a spark of hope for the future, knowing that with time and support, you’d find your way through the pain.

[platinum-horizons]

4

edit: 4 was NOT supposed to be there i dont know how it happened

Like I know we all love making ADHD seem cool but like, don't forget it's actually a disability? My ADHD is bad enough I've nearly been evicted for forgetting to mail the rent check to the property manager, I've forgotten to pay the utility bills and had my water or power get turned off or had to pay fines bcs I missed a credit card payment. Once I was supposed to cat sit for a friend and I lost the house key she gave me but didn't realize until she was already out of town, and she had to call the apartment office to get someone to give me the spare so her cats would have food for the week. When I'm unmedicated I can't even get myself to shower half the time, forget eating or cleaning. Before I started living with my fiance I'd just like, not eat for days because I didn't have anyone to remind me to eat or go buy me food. I've forgotten to turn the stove off so many times and ruined kettles and tbh been DAMN fucking lucky the house didn't burn down. I've done stupid, impulsive shit that's nearly gotten me KILLED. I can't remember to close the shower curtain reliably even through my fiance points out every single time I forget, and he's almost out of soap rn bcs for the last MONTH neither of us have been able to remember to order more once we get out of the shower.

I've had such bad memory my entire life that to this day someone suggesting I forgot something because I simply didn't care enough is a legitimate trigger that, in the worst cases, makes me have a breakdown.

I get that for some of you this is just something that makes studying hard or you forget to take a pee break when you're playing Minecraft or whatever, that's still a valid struggle and you do deserve help and understanding, but like, ADHD is a disability. It's disabling. It's not impossible to improve and learn coping skills, meds help a lot, there are great accommodations out there(LIKE CLEANING SERVICES), but not every case of ADHD is the same, and a lot of them are pretty ugly ngl, and just because you managed to do something doesn't mean someone else is gonna be able to manage it too, or that they're being lazy for struggling. And that obviously doesn't mean ADHD people have a free pass to never work on themselves and make everyone cater to their every need or whatever, but we do deserve some understanding when we explain that our disability is actually disabling in ways that aren't palatable to you. So like, idk, maybe don't immediately recoil in horror when you find out that someone with ADHD can't keep their house clean. And for fucks sake don't ridicule them for it.

[kittyfrisk9]

IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon.

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Dead On Main.

---

Danny accidentally absorbed some of Nocturn's powers (like in the Vortex episode), and now, with these new temporary abilities, why not take advantage of them? Like a kid with a new toy, Danny (or should I say Phantom: with a new design) has fun every night going from dream to dream.

The dream world is so strange! Without the constant threat of a dream entity trying to take over the world and all that. Now he has fun exploring the most unusual parts of his classmates' subconscious, or anyone's in general.

Even though he knows he shouldn't be doing this (after all, he's a responsible adult now), spying on other people's dreams isn't exactly something a mature person would do.

On the other hand, Danny is the responsible adult; Phantom is the one who uses his new powers recklessly. Plus, no one in Gotham knows who Phantom is, and at the end of the day, he's not hurting anyone. Point in his favor!

It was all fun and games… until he felt it: the unpleasant taste of a nightmare, distressing and desperate. Phantom knows he has to intervene, because, unlike Nocturn, he does not delight in the suffering of others.

So he goes. And what he sees shocks him.

Resonant laughter of a psychopath, the constant pain of flesh being beaten, and the devastating reminder that no one came to help. Phantom doesn't just see it, he feels it. Gross. What is this? Why would anyone be hurting a child? Then he understands: this is not just a nightmare, it's a memory, and someone is suffering from reliving it.

He absolutely will not allow this nightmare to continue.

...

Jason hasn't been having good days lately, mostly because instead of going to therapy, he's chosen to sweep his trauma under the rug and aggressively throw himself into crime-fighting. He's not good at dealing with his emotions, especially when he's been tormented by the same damn nightmare over and over again.

He knows the script by heart, he knows how it will end, but he still feels the same fear as the first time.

His head hurts.

"No, not again," he thinks in terror. Once again, he's tied up, unable to move or call for help. It's colder than he remembers. The walls have a grotesque tint, with laughter written in every corner. But the worst thing is the silence… until the sound of clashing metal begins to resonate.

Everything is a thousand times worse. He's sure the original scenario wasn't like this, but his terrified mind refuses to accept it.

The metallic sound resonates louder, each crash rumbling in Jason's chest. His breathing quickens, and then he hears it: that laugh.

A deep, distorted echo of laughter that seems to come from every direction. The laughter snakes around the grotesque walls, filled with the same letters that repeat his agony. “Ha… ha… ha…” fills the air, louder with each invisible step that approaches.

Then, he appears.

It’s not the Joker he remembers from that fateful night. This one is worse. Bigger, more deformed, with a smile that seems to tear at his own face. The colors of his suit are darker, more twisted. It’s as if his mind has amplified him, made him more monstrous.

“My, my, how little Robin has grown? But… something remains the same, doesn’t it? No matter how many times you live it, it always ends the same way. And to think that you were my greatest work of art!”

His voice is mocking, but behind the mockery is pure cruelty, a wicked amusement that lights up in those crazy eyes.

The Joker leans towards Jason, his face invading the small distance between them. The sound of metal continues to echo, and Jason knows what's coming next.

"Oh, I almost forgot…" he says, pulling out of nowhere an iron crowbar that gleams in the dim light of the nightmare. "It wouldn't be a good memory without this, would it?"

That's when the pain begins. Jason doesn't want to scream, and he won't. Even though that abominable creature is just a representation of his killer, he won't give him the luxury of listening to him suffer. The blows continue, and Jason bites his tongue. It's just a nightmare, it's not real… it's not real.

It's not real.

It's not real.

It's not-

"Hey… Are you okay?" he hears him ask. His shocked gaze turns to where the clown should be and discovers that he's gone. In his place, there's a handsome young man: short, slightly messy black hair, expressive purple eyes, and a body almost completely shrouded in dark shadows.

The mysterious man had a cosmic air about him, surrounded by a mix of special effects of stars and galaxies. Something magical.

And new.

Jason honestly doesn't know what he's seeing, or why he's seeing it. "What?" he says, unable to find another word to describe his situation.

The entity laughs at his stunned state, a reassuring echo very different from the joker's laughter. Then he snaps his fingers, and suddenly he's no longer in that ugly room. He's now in a field of flowers, beautiful and vibrant, looking out at a starry sky.

Okay, this is the part where he asks his brain how he went from being in a nightmare to being with a handsome guy under the stars, hands free and untethered.

"Relax, you're not crazy," the being says as he lies back in the grass. “You were in pain, and I didn’t like it, so I got you out of there. Don’t worry, that abomination won’t bother you again.”

Jason blinks twice, bewildered, not understanding anything. “You… saved me?”

“You could say yes.”

“Why?” He shakes his head. “No, wait, that’s not the question. Who…?” Looking back at the being, he decides to change his question: “What are you?”

He seems to have taken the being by surprise.

It clasps its hands together as it looks up at the sky, trying to act normal. Jason narrows his eyes. “You can call me Void.”

“Did you just make up that name?”

The being looks away, seemingly embarrassed at being found out. “Yeah…” And suddenly exclaims, “Ah, ancients! I'm not supposed to be doing this, much less with one of the bats."

That last sentence had given away more than it should have.

"Hey, how about we admire the night view and then pretend this never happened?" Void suggested with a hopeful smile, turning to Jason.

Maybe it was the soft scent of the flowers, the calm atmosphere, or just the tiredness after so many nights of endless nightmares, but Jason, without thinking too much about it, walked over, lay down next to Void on the grass, and said, "No."

He needed a break.

...

And that's how Jason befriended a dream demon. And how Danny pretended to be a dream demon until Nocturn's powers wore off. He couldn't let the bats find out his identity.

After that, they spent more time together, fell in love, there was drama and there was closure. In the middle of all that, Danny started having tea with Alfred in the dream world, and at other times, he had fun bothering the other bats in their dreams.

But that's another story.

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Part 2

[avelera]

Man, there’s all these little beats in OFMD S2 1-3 where people keep EXPECTING Stede to be upset or horrified about Ed’s actions and then he’s just. Not. In a way that reminded me of how a lot of fanon kept softening Stede into someone who doesn’t swear and is horrified at Ed for setting those ships on fire when imo to my eyes he was horrified for Ed because Ed was still so clearly distressed about it.

- Zheng Yi Sao asks Stede how he’s doing now that he knows Ed did horrible things to his crew and there’s this beat and Stede just pivots to, oh yeah, sometimes Ed is troubled. Like it didn’t occur to him to be upset on the crew’s behalf he’s worried about Ed.

- Izzy keeps trying to spare Stede’s feelings and cover up Ed’s spiral, but Stede clocked what was going on with Ed immediately and wasn’t the least bit intimidated or bothered. The knives brought the room together. Of course Ed’s trying to burn the world down or die trying. Duh. And I genuinely don’t think the STUFF in the Revenge mattered even a fraction to Stede as much as the signs of Ed’s breakdown broke his heart. It’s just STUFF, who cares.

- Lucius had to SPECIFICALLY call out Stede for not being surprised or bothered by what happened to him. What Ed did. Stede has to almost consciously remind himself to express polite concern. He just doesn’t actually care, instinctively or automatically, about what happened to Lucius. Part of it is he blames himself more than Ed. Part of it is he just doesn’t care, Ed is the priority.

They’re little blink and you’ll miss it pauses in some cases. Micro-expressions. The absence of a reaction. But honestly, I will scream it to the end of time, Stede is not some nonviolent creampuff scared or upset by Ed’s evil ways. He wants to join Ed in the atrocities. The man ran away to become a pirate. He asked if Lucius was taking notes during a murderous raid.

Stede’s at least a little on some kind of whackadoodle pirate comedy neurodivergence spectrum to the point where he actually really actually struggles to empathize with people, even people he cares about!, if their feelings conflict with his hyperfixation (piracy) and the love of his life (Ed Teach). He’s always, ALWAYS going to pick Ed over Lucius or Izzy or his crew or even his own feelings, if the option is there. He will literally throw himself overboard to get to Ed’s side. No pause. No consideration of anyone else or even his own safety.

Stede sometimes seems to have to consciously remind himself things like, oh yeah, the crew, I need to see to them. Not because he’s heartless or doesn’t care, but because it takes a bit of conscious effort for him to see beyond the laser-focused spotlight of what and who he does care most about, he has to remind himself of social niceties and other people’s feelings (just see him running away in the first place!) when he gets an idea in his head. It’s as if he had to train himself to consciously care about some things other people care about and as a neurodivergent person myself, that felt very familiar in a comedically writ large sort of way. I’d even argue that’s where all his aristocratic social niceties come from. They were his guidebook for how to do things “right” in a world that otherwise made no sense to him outside his hyperfixations. He practiced being a person through the aristocratic training because it was all so foreign to him from the start, including caring, actually caring, about the needs of others. Not because he’s consciously evil or consciously a jerk. The instinct just isn’t there unless he practices at it until it becomes reflex to ask how others are doing, because on his own his brain just doesn’t really notice or care.

I just… hope the fandom notes and has as much FUN as I do noticing all the little moments where even people inside the story of OFMD expect Stede to act in a normal way and instead he remains unhinged, laser-focused on Ed.

Stede’s not just an Ed apologist, he truly doesn’t blame Ed for any of it. He blames only himself. He doesn’t always voice this but he really really only cares about anyone else including the crew as a DISTANT second and he has to consciously REMIND himself to do so. He is able to rally to take action, to care about their physical needs like safety during the rescue, but he still struggles, deeply struggles, to remember to show empathy in a non-performative way for anyone except his special person, Ed.

Stede’s not a creampuff, not a nice guy, not some emotionally or morally perfect angel. He has to consciously practice caring about literally anything else but what he wants to do and his special person. And to me that’s a thousand times more interesting than shoving him in a box labeled “the blond, pacifist do-gooder good guy�� in their relationship.

[themultifanshipper]

The crash was horrible. You scared yourself and everyone else when your car hit the wall with a sickening crunch. But the person you scared the most was Sebastian.

Warnings: Smut, oral, squirting, plot is similar to my other Seb fic (it was based on the same prompt) but this one is more angsty and fluffy and the vibes are completely opposite lmao, but the smut is also disgusting, barely edited tbh

His car had minimal damage, so he was just going to carry on, but the glare of flames in his mirrors was enough for him to panic and stop the car to go and help get you out of the flaming wreck, despite Christian shouting at him to continue over the radio. He just couldn’t leave you, never mind what he portrayed to the cameras, you meant too much to him and he would never have forgiven himself if he’d been that selfish.

But by the time he got there you were already out of the car, being helped across the gravel by a marshal. As he approached, you threw your helmet at him and screamed.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING? PULLING A MOVE LIKE THAT YOU COULD HAVE GOT US KILLED! DO YOU THINK YOU'RE MICHAEL SCHUMACHER OR SOMETHING YOU B-"

You jumped on each other at the same time, scratching and punching at each other like children, and the marshal was forced to call for reinforcements to get you separated.

Later, during post-race interviews (you'd both been banned from the press conference) you were asked what happened and you got incredibly wound up again just talking about how careless and dangerous Seb’s move was.

Your press officer moved you off quickly to avoid any further incidents, but unfortunately for her Seb arrived at that moment, and you noticed that he looked rather pale, but that didn’t stop him from going straight to the interviewer you were just talking to.

“So, Seb, tell me about the incident, and what do you think of your rivalry with, uhh-” She glanced over to where you were standing only a few feet away, waiting.

Seb looked at you before answering. “She’s a promising talent, and no doubt she is beautiful, but she shouldn’t be in formula one.”

Before you could jump on him and cause another scene, you were dragged away to your post-race debrief before being sent back to the hotel.

Unbelievable! You crashed because of him, ruining both your races. And he had the audacity to say you didn’t belong in formula one? What a fucking joke! To say he was out of line would be an understatement, but of course, if you complained you would just be labelled as emotional, or immature, or god forbid, on your period. That’s one you had gotten once during an interview and the man swiftly ended up with a broken nose, which of course didn’t help your image, but it felt good none the less. What didn’t feel good was how little Seb had seemed to care about what happened. He could have killed you, he could have killed himself.

Hours later, you were still seething with rage when you heard a knock at the door.

The last person you expected to see when you opened it was Seb.

“I have nothing to say to you” You tried to slam the door in his face but he blocked it with his foot, making him wince.

“I know, but I just want you to know that I wasn’t playing for the cameras when I ran to get you on the track, I was worried I had caused you-“

“Oh give me a break! You crashed and saw an opportunity to look like the bigger person and come recue the damsel in distress but guess what? I didn’t NEED you Seb!”

“No, I didn’t crash! Christian told me to keep going but I stopped the car for you!”

You frowned at him, gears turning in your mind. “You stopped the car? Why the hell would you do that?”

He sighed frustratedly “Because I panicked! I saw fire and I was worried about you!”

“Oooh you were worried about me!” You parroted in the meanest tone you could muster, ignoring the beating of your heart at his words “You were worried about me because I don’t belong in this tough manly sport of yours is that it?”

He paused at your words, seemingly hurt at the implications behind them.

“You shouldn’t be in formula one, I stand by that. But not because you’re a woman, or a bad driver. It’s because I don’t want you in formula one. I don’t want you to be in that kind of danger, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you on my watch!”

Tears prickled your eyes as you took a step back from him. “So I should just give it all up huh? I should give up my dream just because you’re scared of hurting me?  What the fuck is wrong with you? I chose this! I chose motorsports for the adrenaline! The competition! The passion! What I didn’t sign up for was you crashing into me every chance you get because you can’t handle being beaten by a girl!”

Tears were properly streaming down your face by now, and you went to push Seb out of your room, but he caught your arms and pinned you against the door instead.

“Let me go Seb! Get out!”

No! You’re misunderstanding me and I’m not leaving until I’ve said what I came to say! I care about you because despite you being a constant bitch around me, I’ve seen your real personality! And as much as you hate me, I just can’t bring myself to hate you! I didn’t want to save you to look like a hero, I wanted to save you because the thought of losing you was just-” he got choked up and you could see tears forming in his eyes as they stared intently into yours. “It… I-”  He took a deep breath “It would have been too painful.”

You gulped. “Seb, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I love you, and I’ve loved you since-“

You surged forward and kissed him.

He reciprocated quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you in closer.

You honestly couldn’t say how long the two of you made out in the dark corner of your room for, but after a while you both ran out of oxygen and had to separate, breathing hard. His hands slid down to your thighs, picking you up easily and carrying you swiftly to the bed.

It became a competition to see who could get their clothes off faster, and you laughed at each other as you struggled to get your race suits off.

Once you were both naked, he climbed over you and started the long expedition over your curves and dips, kissing and marking every expanse of skin he came across. You writhed and squirmed at the attention, needing him to just get on with it. When he finally got up to your mouth, he was hard and you could feel his dick poking at your thigh.

“Please Seb, I need you to fuck me now” you whined, wrapping your legs around his waist to get him closer, but he refused, instead sitting backwards and kneeling between your legs to get a look at you.

“Calm down Schatz, I need to prepare you first, I don’t want to hurt you” he said soothingly, running his hands up and down your thighs before stopping just shy of your folds, using his thumbs to spread you open for him.

“God you are so wet for me” he groaned and dipped a thumb inside before bringing it to his mouth, sucking your juices off and groaning even louder. “And you taste so good, baby, fuck!”

He dipped a finger in gently, then two and pumped them a few times, making you mewl, before pulling them out and sucking them clean.

“I’m obsessed” he panted “I’m sorry baby, I need to taste more.” And with that he dove down and devoured you like a man starved, running his tongue over your lips and clit with gusto. His fingers soon joined and he hit that spot immediately, over and over. You quickly felt an orgasm building in your loins as your thighs tightened around his head and you fingers tugged on his hair.

“Seb, I’m so close baby!”

“I know” he growled and doubled down on his efforts, making you writhe in pleasure as the pressure building in your stomach became too much as he assaulted your clit with his talented mouth.

Your orgasm hit you so hard you couldn’t even get a breath in to make any noise as you came all over his face and chest.

He sat up over you and you saw that his hair was drenched, plastered to his forehead as drops of your cum slid down his nose and landed on your body.

He was grinning like a maniac, ecstatic at having made you come so hard you squirted on him.

“That’s never happened before!” you panted but he just smashed his lips to yours and grabbed your face, spreading wetness all over you both as his chest lay over yours.

It was disgusting.

But so, so incredibly hot.

“Fuck me now, please Seb?”

“Okay Schatz, your wish is my command” and with no further ado, he rubbed his tip through your folds a few times before sinking into you all the way to the hilt.

He was so thick it was hard to breathe as the stretch knocked the breath from your lungs, and you clung on to him for dear life.

It didn’t take either of you long to come, and you did so almost simultaneously, foreheads touching, breathing in each other’s air, wrapped around each other as tight as possible.

You being incapable of walking just yet, he carried you to the shower and helped you wash, giggling as the sensation of his hands scrubbing over your skin made you ticklish.

It’s only when you got out of the shower and looked in the mirror that you noticed the marks he had left from his earlier ministrations. Small bruises littered your legs, hips, stomach, chest and neck.

“Dammit Sebastian! It’s summer and you’ve turned me into a dalmatian!” You shrieked, but he just laughed and smacked your ass on his way back to the bedroom.

“I’m serious! I can’t go out in public like this!”

He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder. “Now everyone can stop flirting with you”

You tuned around in his arms “Awww, is my Sebby jealous?” You cooed.

He huffed “I am not jealous, but I am yours” he smiled, leaning down and kissing you.

He finally had you after years of loving you, and he was going to savour every second of it.

Of course the first person you saw the next morning was Jenson freaking Button.

He took one look at you, in shorts and a tank top, dozens of hickeys on display, then at Seb who had just appeared behind you in the lobby, connected the dots immediately and shrieked in laughter, attracting the attention of the few other drivers who had come down early for breakfast.

You were never living this down.

[jessybarnes]

Teach Me

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean x Reader / Eventual Cas x Reader / No Destiel

Rating: 18+ Only!!

Tags: Voyeurism, Smut, Fingering (Female Receiving), Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Squirting, Finger Sucking, Masturbation, Unprotected Sex, Use of Grace, A little bit of a Threesome (NO DESTIEL in this one), Some Fluff at the end, and I think that’s it.

Word Count: 2,966

Beta: @winecatsandpizza

A/N: This is a repost from my old Tumblr blog, I hope you enjoy it!

Reblog Divider by: @cafekitsune

Dean couldn’t keep Y/N quiet. Her pleasure-filled screams echoed through the halls of the bunker as he flicked his tongue rapidly over her clit, two of his skilled fingers curling inside her searching out her sweet spot. He was just glad that they were alone and didn’t have any close neighbors because he was sure the cops would have been called by now. Edging was one of his favorite things to do to her. Dean loved seeing her beg. He always thought she begged pretty.

“Oh God, please… Dean, please! Need to cum…”

Dean knew she was close. The way her needy moans became pants as her walls started to tighten around his thick digits, it was his key to stop. He pulled out of her, chuckling at her low whimper. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Sweetheart, I didn’t give you permission yet. You gotta be a good girl. Only good girls get what they want. Think you can do that for me?”

Y/N’s chest was heaving, and she swore the moment anything touched her throbbing clit she’d explode, but Dean always knew what she needed. Especially when she was in a submissive state like this. She felt Dean’s calloused hands slide slowly up her sides, goosebumps rising in their wake. His lips sucked at the pulse point just below her ear sending a shiver down her spine. 

“D-Dean…” 

His lips ghosted along the skin of her throat ever so lightly. It was getting hard for him to hold back himself, so he could only imagine how she was feeling. His fingers found her slick folds once again, her walls fluttering around nothing before he slid one into her. The action wasn’t anything near what she needed, but it was better than him not touching her at all. 

Y/N began to raise her hips to meet the lazy thrust of his finger. All she needed was a little bit more, just a little more, and she’d be soaring into pure bliss. Dean’s sound of disapproval brought her back to reality, and she almost sobbed when he pulled out of her. 

“Ah, Ah, Ah. Didn’t say you could move, darlin’.”

“Fuck, please… please Dean. I-I need it.”

Just as Dean was about to give in and grant the release they both needed, a flutter of wings sounded in the corner of the room. Y/N scrambled up the bed, covering herself with the sheet just as Dean threw his black t-shirt on and grabbed his pistol off the nightstand. 

“Y/N? Is everything alright? I heard you calling for De-”

The familiar figure of Castiel stood clad in his usual attire looking halfway between confused and embarrassed as he took in the scene before him. His head tilted slightly before he spoke again, his attention fixed on Dean curiously. 

“Dean, was it you that was causing Y/N to cry out in distress?”

Y/N watched as Dean put his hands on his hips, rolling his eyes. 

“Dammit, Cas … Y/N wasn’t distressed. She was enjoyin’ herself.”

Cas’ eyes narrowed to thin slits finally realizing that they were completely naked save for Dean’s tee. He walked forward slightly, picking up Dean’s boxers for a moment before dropping them back onto the pile of clothes on the floor. 

“Oh, I understand now Dean. This is how humans participate in the act of intercourse. My apologies for interrupting.”

Y/N watched as Cas awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other before looking at Dean expectantly. 

“Cas? You okay, buddy? I was kinda hoping to get back to uh … well, ya know …”

Cas’ blue eyes wandered over their bare skin slowly, and Y/N didn’t miss the hint of redness that tinted his cheeks.

“Dean? I would very much like to learn how to make Y/N enjoy herself as you did. Can you teach me?”

Y/N’s gaze darted to Dean’s as he looked at her, the silent question was understood and she nodded slightly. A moment later, Dean stood from his spot at the foot of the bed and walked slowly towards his angel friend. Cas looked at him curiously as the fabric of his signature blue tie slid through the hunter’s thumb and index finger. 

“Well, first things first Cas, you’re wearing too many clothes.”

He looked crestfallen at Dean, grasping the lapel of his trench coat lovingly. 

“I like my clothing Dean. I don’t see why it would matter if I took all of it off or not.”

Y/N held back a laugh, shaking her head as Dean scrubbed a hand across his face. 

“Cas, buddy, you gotta be naked. It’s uhh … it’s easier to …” 

He sighed heavily, the annoyance thick in his tone.

“Trust me on this, Cas. Okay? It’ll make Y/N happy.”

Moments later, the ever-so-powerful angel of the Lord stood there in nothing but his white boxers. Y/N hadn’t realized just how muscular he was underneath all the layers of clothing he normally wore. His biceps were notably distinguished, his chest looked firm, and his deeply defined Adonis belt was deliciously inviting. 

“I still don’t see how my lack of clothing would make Y/N feel pleasure, Dean.”

Just as Dean let out another exasperated sigh, Y/N patted the bed welcomingly and scooted over. 

“C’mere Cas, let me show you what Dean’s talkin’ about.”

The angel stole a hesitant glance at Dean, watching him nod towards the bed. Cas swallowed thickly and made his way over to where Y/N laid invitingly. 

Cas watched as her delicate hand patted the thin fitted sheet. Her fingers sliding over the fabric made his pulse quicken. It wasn’t until Dean sat on the end of the bed that he came to his senses. 

“Go on, Cas. You have to feel how smooth her skin is. Y/N’s got the prettiest skin doesn’t she?” 

It’s true that Cas always admired how beautifully smooth it looked. He just didn’t think he would ever get this opportunity. Celestial beings weren’t supposed to participate in acts like this. Sexual desires rarely crossed his mind, mainly because it was wired into his genetic code to serve God. 

Ever so slowly he extended his hand, allowing it to come to rest on Y/N’s bare hip. Not only was her skin soft, but this simple touch seemed to electrify his body. The celestial energy within him made everything more heightened. An instinct he never thought he would’ve possessed took over. 

Y/N returned the gesture by stroking her fingertips along the side of his cheek. She watched as Cas closed his eyes, the initial contact making him shiver. He’d never been touched so intimately before. The sensations from it alone caused his breath to hitch, and she hadn’t even got him completely naked yet. He hadn’t even noticed Dean move to the chair in the corner until his gruff voice broke the silence in the room, egging him on. 

“Yeah, buddy that’s it. Kiss her next. See if you can find the spot on her neck that drives her absolutely wild.”

Y/ N’s gaze flitted from the angel’s slightly parted lips to his cerulean eyes. It made desire begin to pool in her abdomen seeing him like this. She’d always had feelings for Cas, but it never seemed possible that she would be able to explore those desires. His mouth descended onto her neck, kissing and sucking at her soft skin. 

Y/N’s back arched into his toned chest at its own accord, his lips continuing their journey south. His ocean-colored eyes looked up through his thick lashes at her reaction to his kisses. It never occurred to him how such a small gesture could have such an effect on someone. He wanted more, needed to see Y/N come completely apart for him. 

Cas marveled at her beautiful figure laid out before him. Beads of sweat collected in the valley between her breasts, her chest rising and falling as she looked down at him with want. He gracefully kissed his way back up to her bowtie lips, capturing them in a passionate caress. His tongue danced with hers expertly, the thickening of his cock evident against her upper thigh. 

The moment his lips left hers a needy whine fell from her lips. Y/N looked over at Dean and felt her walls clench again. Seeing him fully naked again with his cock in his hand, hard and leaking, drove her absolutely wild. Her body began to shake again, her hands fisting the sheets. 

“P-Please… I… I can’t… I need…”

Dean chuckled as Cas looked over at him with slight confusion etched in his features. He bit his lip, nodding at the angel to keep going as he slowly increased the speed of his hand on his cock. 

“Dean, did I do something wrong? Y/N seems to be in distress again.”

A low moan fell from the elder Winchester’s lips. It was getting harder to focus on being a teacher when he was getting the hottest live show he’d ever seen. Eventually, he shook his head and tried desperately to form a coherent sentence. 

“Nah buddy, I bet her pussy’s soaked. Just look at the way she’s breathin’. You see the way her eyes roll back in her head just from your hands and mouth touching her? That’s just the tip of the iceberg, Cas. You really wanna hear Y/N lose it, then you gotta find her sweet spot.”

Dean stood up and joined his angelic friend on the bed, carefully spreading Y/N’s legs. He showed Cas his middle and ring fingers for a moment before dipping them into the slick folds of her sex. Cas didn’t miss how her back arched off the bed or the way she whimpered. Dean didn’t keep them inside her long though. This wasn’t his show anymore, but he wasn’t upset. If he was honest with himself, teaching turned him on more than he thought it would.

“You see that? Now you try…”

Cas slid his left hand up Y/N’s thigh, his fingertips ghosting over the goosebumps on her skin. He didn’t miss how she sucked in a breath the moment his fingers grazed her folds. Dean was right, she was very wet. Ever so slowly, he began to smooth them up and down, his cock throbbing in his boxers every time a new plea fell from her mouth. 

“Is this her sweet spot, Dean?” 

His hand never faltered as his blue eyes met Dean’s lust-blown ones. The hunter shook his head and bit his lip, his voice thick with arousal as he spoke. 

“Not quite, Cas. I’ll help you find it though. Those two fingers you’re touchin’ her with? Push them inside her. Then, I want you to curl them upwards.”

Cas did as he was told, and the moment he curled his fingers the prettiest moan he’d ever heard filled the room like a prayer.

“Oh, Cas!... M-More… please!”

Cas didn’t have to be told twice. Virgin or not, he could tell he’d found the spot that drove her crazy. He began to rub his fingers along the spot inside her, his other hand rubbing his own arousal through his boxers to gain some relief. Dean praised him, egging him on as he used his thumb to draw circles around her clit. 

“That’s it, Cas. Fuck... keep moving your hand like that, and she’ll cum in no time. You think we should let her? You wanna see her squirt? She taste’s like Heaven.”

Cas wasn’t sure what Dean meant by that, but he loved the way Y/N’s walls squeezed around his fingers. He continued to thrust his fingers in and out, a little faster each time. His eyes went wide as he watched Dean lowered his mouth towards where his hand was.

“I’m about to show you another spot, Cas. This one’s called her clit. Y/N’s about to become putty in our hands. Ready, buddy?” 

Cas nodded, licking his lips as Dean closed his mouth over Y/N. Almost instantaneously he felt her walls clamp around his fingers. He couldn’t believe he’d never experienced anything like this before. Why would his Father keep something this pleasurable hidden from his brothers and sisters for so long? A few seconds later, Cas felt something wet gush over his vessel’s hand. 

“Oh, fuck! C-Cas…. Dean I… I’m gonna… Right there!... OH, FUCK!!”

Dean sat back on his heels, his chin glistening with Y/N’s juices. A smirk formed on his lips before he gestured to where Cas’ hand was. 

“Good job, buddy. You know, for an angel you’re not too bad at this. Taste her, Cas. Then, I wanna see you fuck her.” 

Cas did as instructed and slowly removed his fingers from Y/N’s heat. He curiously observed the way they glistened with her wetness for a moment before sucking them between his lips. His eyes fluttered closed as he tasted her. Dean was right, she was delicious and he needed more. Before he could stop himself, he settled between her quivering legs. His instincts took over and soon he was devouring her like it was the only thing keeping him alive. 

“Sh-Shit! CAS!! Ohholyshityes… yes… YES!” So good… Oh, you’re so good! AH!” 

Dean’s jaw went slack as he watched the scene play out before him. His cock jerked in his hand, and he began to jerk himself faster. The coil of his arousal tightening with each passing moment he watched Cas work Y/N over. 

“Jesus, Cas… Look at you, making her a complete mess with your mouth. Fuck… yeah, make her sweet pussy cum again… C’mon, buddy… you can do it. Make her scream…”

His words gave him the fuel he needed. He closed his mouth over the same spot Dean had before and sucked. He could quickly tell that she was sensitive, so as if on queue he used his grace to hold Y/N in place while he moved his tongue in circles across her bundle of nerves. 

“Ca...Cas… Cas, OhmyG-... M’gonna… Fuck, I’m gonna… CAS!!!”

He released her clit and sat up next to where Dean was standing. His pupils fully engulfing the blue of his eyes. His cock was painfully hard in the confines of his boxers, so he took a moment to remove them. 

“Cas, I think she’s ready for you. God, I can’t wait to see you fuck her and watch her cum with you buried inside her.” 

Cas had never had something so filthy be spoken to him, but it unlocked something inside him. Something primal that needed to be sated, and it was something only Y/N could provide him. He positioned himself between her legs and pushed inside her, not stopping until his hips met hers. He heard her cry out and stopped, his eyes looking down into hers as he waited for her to adjust to him. 

“Please… please, Cas… fuck me…”

The moment the words left her lips, he gave in and began a punishing pace. Dean marveled at the way Y/N looked from this angle. He knew he wasn’t going to last like this. Seeing his best friend fuck the girl he loved senselessly would be his undoing.

He stood there fucking himself into his hand while the most obscene noises filled his ears. It all became too much, the sound of skin slapping against skin, the stream of Enochian coming from Castiel, and the sound of Y/N begging for him to cum sent him over the edge. Thick ropes of his release coated her chest and neck as he gripped the headboard for support. 

“Mmm, fuck Cas… Yeah, buddy… fuck her just like that… She feels amazing, doesn’t she? That tight pussy squeezing your cock like a vice. She’s close, I can tell.” 

He leaned down close to her ear and flicked his tongue over her earlobe. 

“You like when Cas fucks you, sweetheart? His cock feels good splitting you open… I can tell. You gonna cum for us? Gonna cum all over him?”

The moment Y/N’s walls fluttered around Cas he was a goner. With a guttural cry, he stilled inside her, his release filling her completely. 

For a few moments, no one said anything. It was all just heavy breathing and the occasional whimper from Y/N. Dean broke the silence and ran a hand through his sweat-slicked hair before slipping back into his boxers. 

“That was… wow… We gotta do that more often. He padded across the room to the door and gave the Cas and Y/N a lopsided smile. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up. You two should do the same and then we can talk about all this.”

He was gone seconds later, but before Y/N could move to get up herself, Cas shook his head.

“Allow me.”

With a quick snap of his fingers, they were both clean and back in their clothes. She smiled at him and threaded her fingers with his.

“That was amazing, Cas. I… I don’t know what we do from here, but I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

Cas smiled and leaned down to kiss her temple.

“I may be somewhat ignorant of intimate feelings, but Dean seemed pleased with what we just did together.” 

The two made their way to the Bunker’s library completely sated. If you’d told Y/N a year ago that she’d be fucked into oblivion by an angel of the Lord while one of the most beautiful hunters that ever existed watched, she would have laughed. Now? Now, it was safe to say that anything can happen, and she couldn’t wait for Dean to give Cas another lesson.

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

Hi, I have a request. I was hoping if you can do a one-shot or short story of Alastor x reader with telekinetic powers that's similar to Carrie White? It can be romantic or platonic, which ever fits better is up to you.

It can go something like this; the reader fell into hell because they did something really bad with their newborn powers, and it was during extermination day. When the exorcist angels were going to kill the reader, they use their TK powers to defend themselves against the angels and manage to kill one before getting away from them. This was caught on news and immediately caught the attention of all the sinners in hell to see the reader has telekinetic powers and manages to fight off the angels. This even caught the attention of all the overlords, including the three Vee's, the Hazbin Hotel crew and Alastor.

That was honestly all I got 😅, I'm sorry if it sounds confusing, but I was hoping you can do something like that, if that's OK with you, because your work is very amazing to read.

Welcome to Hell! - Alastor x reader

Helloo!! I’ve decided to keep this as a one-shot for now since I want to focus on finishing my ongoing stories. However, if inspiration strikes, I might dive deeper into this idea in the future! In the meantime, it was a wonderful request, and I hope you enjoy it! ❤️ A/N: I was supposed to post this tomorrow but I accidentaly clicked post instead of schedule so... here you have it. Warning: Not proofread!

Words: ~2300 TW: none.

Your hands were shaking.

What had you done?

Your heart was racing, your breathing erratic.

You’ve killed someone again.

You only wanted to protect yourself… you always had!

You're a monster.

The golden blood splattered all over you, all over the ground, awakening memories. It happened so fast, so quickly that you still believed it was all a dream. They attacked you, didn't they? It wasn't your fault. You just wanted to survive. Doesn't everyone?

What was this place? Why is everyone so panicked? Why are these beings attacking you?

The sound of a bell rang across the strange city you woke up in, the weird beings flying in the sky. The streets echoed in screams and cries, grunts of pain and suffering sending shivers down your spine.

Once the panic subsided, creatures surrounded you, whispering and watching with wide eyes.

"You... You killed an exorcist?" one of them asked.

"What?" you couldn't understand. What was happening? Was this a joke?

"We're gonna die!" another screamed.

"What? No, I-" You tried to protect yourself, but fear overwhelmed you. You noticed them approaching you, your eyes falling on a nearby wrecked car.

A loud noise echoed as the car blasted through the crowd, giving you a chance to escape. Corpses of these things surrounded you, and blood splattered all over the streets. What was this place? What happened here?

You felt threatened, like prey running from unknown hunters in unfamiliar territory. What was happening? Were you dreaming?

Am I dead?

"Welcome back to 666 News, the premiere station for all things Hell! I'm Katie Killjoy with today's top stories!" Katie's voice echoed through the TV in the hotel's lobby, mere moments after Extermination Day was over.

"Extermination day has just ended, and as usual, demon parts and blood litter the streets of Hell, as clean-up crews get to work."

Charlie watched the news, Vaggie's hand slowly caressing her shoulder. "You want me to change it?" she asked her.

"No... I need to know the damage..." Charlie said, sighing, clearly distressed about her people getting killed once again. Vaggie hugged her tightly, knowing how painful it must be. She'd erase that smile on Katie's face if she could - always so happy to announce the death of other Sinners every year.

"But the news doesn't end there! As it turns out, a newcomer has been reported for recently killing an Angel - using telekinesis, no less!"

They both watched with wide eyes, as Husker joined, his curiosity getting the best of him too. The images of you blasting a car through the car appeared on the screen, screams of people echoing through it.

"Holy shit!" Vaggie said, not quite believing what she was seeing. "They must be confused."

"And what a hell of a start..." Husker said, not phased by the events.

The doors of the hotel burst open, Angel frantically looked around as he tried to catch his breath. "We... We need- Oh, shit..." he tried to say, but running as fast as he could all the way there surely took a toll on him.

"Angel, what happened?" Charlie asked.

He took a deep breath, trying to let the words come out. "We need to take that sinner... I've heard Vox and Valentino talk... They want them!"

"No! If The Vees have them, especially with that power..." Charlie said, worry on her face. It would've been a catastrophe. Having someone like you, powerful and confused controlled by The Vees... It couldn't happen.

A laugh echoed in the room, as everyone's attention shifted. Alastor appeared in the room, shadows emerging everywhere, the smirk on his face wider than usual. He clearly heard what happened, lurking in silence for the perfect time to make his presence known.

"My, my... What an interesting little situation we've managed to find ourselves in! It seems our new arrival has made quite the impression." he said, excitement filling his tone.

"Alastor, you need to help us-" Charlie pleaded, only to be cut off by Vaggie.

"Hold on, Charlie... I don't think Alastor is the best to handle this situation."

"Let me disagree, my dear!" Alastor intervened quickly, stepping closer to them. "I think my skills in... persuasion must be of good help, don't you agree?"

"Manipulation, you mean," Vaggie said harshly, making his eye twitch a bit.

"Ah, that's such a negative word, my dear... I think my term is a little bit more friendly, hmm?" He pushed her aside, wrapping his arm around Charlie's shoulder. "Now my dearest Charlie, let's think about this for a moment, shall we?"

"Charlie, no!"

Charlie fiddled for a moment, thinking about it, but as much as she hated to disagree with Vaggie, Alastor was right... He always managed to convince people to do different things, and right now, having the newcomer come to the hotel was all that mattered. She sighed, turning to face Vaggie. "I think we should let Alastor try..."

A small chuckle escaped Alastor's lips, his smile growing even wider as he heard Charlie's words. "Excellent choice, my dear Charlie! I promise not to disappoint you!" He clasped his hands together, his eyes sparkling happily as he was clearly enjoying this.

"Ugh, fine..." Vaggie groaned. "But if you fuck up"

"No need for threats, my dear! I assure you there's no need for you to worry!" his eyes turned to Angel, a glim of mischief into them. "Now, where do I find this little dearie of ours?"

You walked the halls of the huge building that the demon took you, still shivering from the... unconventional way you were brought there.

"Ah, I truly apologize for my assistant's... way of bringing you here." The TV demon, who presented himself as Vox, said, resting his arm on the small of your back as he guided you from one corridor to another. "I specifically told them that shoving people in that... black van is surely not the best idea." he laughed a bit nervously.

Your heart was beating so fast, a knot in your stomach as you didn't know what to expect. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, confusion still washing over you.

"Am I in Hell?" you asked, things starting to make sense.

"Yes, you're unfortunately in Hell darlin'," he answered, his voice smooth and almost melodic. You weren't surprised to be here, not after what you've done. Not after how many people you've hurt. "But don't worry, you're safe here with me." He chuckled a bit, his clawed hand brushing slightly on your back. "Now, I don't want to pressure you into anything, but I do look forward to finding out more about you. I think we could really help each other."

"I guess..." you said, realising it was better than roaming around this strange city without knowing anything.

Your eyes fell on your reflection whenever you would pass the big windows. You didn't look much different from your human self, but you seemed to resemble a rabbit, rather than anything else. A reminder that you'll always be what you've been your whole life - a prey, something meant to run and hide, in order to survive.

Vox eyed you closely, humming to himself as a smirk slowly formed on his screen. "Looks like you've figured out what you are," he said, his arm still resting on your back. "A rabbit, huh? Cute."

You blushed at his words, trying to hide your face. You felt so cornered right now, so vulnerable to him, not knowing if he was really going to protect you or give you a much worse fate.

"No need to be so shy, doll," he teased lightly, his arm gently tightening his grip around you. "I promise you're safe here. You're under my protection now, after all."

You watched as he unlocked a door, keeping it open for you. You swirled inside, taking in the huge apartment, looking rather luxurious. Vox followed you, shutting the door behind him. The apartment was lavish and spacious, with large windows at the end of the room, and the city lights glowing underneath it.

"Welcome to your new home," he said, his voice slightly echoing through the empty space. "Make yourself comfortable."

"Is this all mine?" you asked, still not believing.

"Yes, darlin', everything in this apartment is yours," he answered, watching as you looked around in wonder. "Consider yourself lucky. Not everyone in Hell gets to have a place like this." He stepped a bit closer, pride lingering inside of him as he watched your reaction. "Velvette will take care of your attire while you're here, so really no need to worry about anything."

You turned to face him, a bit puzzled by this entire situation. "Why are you helping me?"

Vox’s smile widened as he leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed. "I'm a businessman, sweetheart," he said, his tone almost playful. "And I always have an eye out for potential investments. As for you..."

He walked toward you, striding over to you. He slowly trailed a finger along your chin, making you look up at him. "You're something... special. I couldn't let such a precious little thing get lost in this shithole of a city."

Your cheeks burned. You weren't used to being treated with such kindness, a warm feeling settling in your soul. He looked at the watch on his wrist, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration. "Ugh, have a meeting to attend to," he explained, moving away from you. "Settle in and think about my offer!"

"What about Valentino?" you asked, recalling the man you’d encountered upon your arrival, unbeknownst to Vox.

"What about Valentino?" He repeated, chuckling nervously.

"He said he has an offer for me too..."

You watched him sigh, his screen glitching slightly. "Just... don't. Ok?" You nodded, not sure if you should ask more questions or just keep quiet. Vox left, leaving you alone in your thoughts, a lingering sensation of loneliness filling your soul once again.

You walked around a bit, looking at how neat and beautiful everything seemed. You didn't expect to be like this and you surely didn't expect to be met with kindness, not here at least. With small steps, you took in the sight of the city. Was this how you were going to spend eternity? Was this all real?

"Impressive." a voice echoed behind you, making you jump. Your heartbeat quickened as you watched a demon that resembled a deer stand in front of you, his eyes fixed on your figure. "I have to admit, Vox really outdone himself with this one."

"Who are you?" you asked, your voice coming out more weak than you expected. Your ears flattened against your head, as you tried to distance yourself from the stranger, only to be met with the cold glass.

"Quite the frightened little bunny, aren't you?" he teased, a low chuckle echoing in your ears as static accompanied his voice. "My name is Alastor, it's a pleasure to meet you."

You just stood there frightened. In a moment, you made a lamp fly towards him, a frail attempt to protect yourself without making a big mess again. But just mere moments before hitting him, the lamp disappeared into a portal, nowhere to be seen anymore.

He chuckled, taking another step closer, almost towering over you. Alastor watched you from head to toe, clearly evaluating the situation and you. "Very interesting."

"I... Are you Vox's assistant?" you asked, feeling cornered by the deer demon.

He raised an eyebrow at your question, letting out a huff. "Well, of course not, my dear. I am actually here to make an offer." he crouched down to your level, his smile sending shivers down your spine. "You made quite a show for your first day... Those powers of yours..." he seemed almost lost in his thoughts, the possibilities you might offer pleasing him, but first, he had to make you leave Vox. "I know a place where you'll be safe, my dear. And perhaps..." he paused a bit, your ears perking up a bit in curiosity. "... perhaps even leave this place forever..."

Your face lit up for a moment. "Leave... Could I leave Hell?"

"Well, of course!" he said, getting up, his tone cheerful once again. "Is that something that you'd want?" You thought for a moment - you didn't think it was fair for you to end up in Hell... all you did was protect yourself, but... having the chance to go to Heaven? He smiled at your hesitation. "I take that you'd be interested, hmm?" he offered you his hand, helping you get back up.

"But... What about Vox?"

"Oh, don't worry about him. He just wants to use you to his advantage, dear. I can actually help you!" The static in his voice grew slightly when he spoke.

"How can I trust you?" you asked, making him sigh at the question, clearly frustrated by your questions.

"How about a deal, my dear, hm?"

"A deal?"

"Well, yes. I always respect my deals! You come with me and I guarantee you that one day, you will go to Heaven." he raised his hand, green flames engulfing it as you looked at it. "What would it be?"

"The fuck you mean she left?!" Vox asked, slamming the door to the apartment open.

"I told you, Vox! I came in, and she was gone!" Velvette protested. "I told you we can't trust the bitch!"

Vox walked around the apartment, his screen glitching from time to time. He was so angry, it felt like he was about to crash. "Ok, ok.... We can find her..." he tried to calm himself down, but his eyes fell on a little piece of paper on the counter. He quickly grabbed it and as soon as he read it, his screen almost overheated and froze.

"Maybe you should try harder than that, old pal."

"Um... Vox?" Velvette asked, a bit afraid he might have a short circuit again.

"I'm... gonna... kill... that fucker..."

Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail @xghostnuggsx @vxllys

@ustulia @n0tmentallystable @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog

@alastorthirsty @l3rittany @catticora

[mypoisonedvine]

can I request a dark!(any of cillian murphy’s characters) who’s basically this spoiled entitled rich guy and he meets a waitress who puts him in his place for disrespecting her? so he decides to teach her a lesson

THE WAY THIS IS PERFECT FOR DARK!ROBERT FISCHER??? OH MY GOD??

warnings: DARK NONCON SMUT!! 18+ only, misogyny and classism, pretty extreme degradation, semi-public sex, hair pulling

You weren't sure why that one interaction stuck in your head, it wasn't like you hadn't dealt with rude customers before: they're plentiful in a fancy place like this, only people wealthy enough to be used to getting whatever they wanted could afford to eat here.

Maybe it was just because you'd already noticed him from the first moment you came to the table, and not just because he looked a little out of place surrounded by the other businessmen... you thought he was gorgeous, obviously. Which made it even more disappointing when he was a huge tool, correcting your pronunciation of some of the menu items and then trying to summon you to the table with a few impatient snaps of his fingers. Not to mention calling you 'sweetheart' instead of your name-- classic sexist bullshit.

Or maybe you remembered him because of the rage when you stood up to him-- just for a second, you saw it in his eyes, before he let out a nervous and condescending laugh to try to break the tension. But even just that flash of anger in his stare made you regret speaking up. Normally, you didn't take shit from anyone and you didn't apologize for the feelings you hurt along the way... but that, his look right then, was everything people had been warning you about. It's one thing to stand up to someone, it's another to antagonize them.

It was enough to make you feel a little nervous when your shift ended that night. You'd watched the flock of stuffy suits leave after their meal, obviously not giving you a tip because of course they wouldn't, and yet you had this lingering feeling like you were being watched-- like you hadn't seen the last of that infuriated glare.

But, feeling like you were definitely overreacting, you resisted the urge to ask your manager to walk you to your car. It was late, of course, and you shivered a bit as the chilly night air made your thin cardigan feel pretty much useless.

Just as you unlocked your car, opening the backseat door to toss in your bag, you felt a hand cover your mouth as someone grabbed you. Your instinctive scream was muffled as you heard a harsh 'shh' by your ear, a heavy form pressing into yours.

You were pushed into the car, tossed roughly down over the backseats as the man's weight kept you pinned down, and you tried to struggle but found yourself quickly incapacitated by his strength.

"How fucking dare you," he spat right against your ear; and you recognized the voice, of course you did, it was burned into your mind already. "You rude little bitch..."

"Get off me," you growled, "you fucking asshole!"

"No, no," he purred, pinning your arms down when you tried to push him back, "not until you've learned your lesson. The way you spoke to me at dinner, I just can't let you get away with that."

"I-I'm sorry, okay?" you breathed, distressed by how easily he held your arms in place by his tight grip on your wrists; you felt him smile against your ear, a dark little chuckle making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. "I'm sorry-- I wasn't trying to be rude."

"Yes, you were, sweetheart," he disagreed, throwing the condescending name right at you again. "You were trying to, what, emasculate me? How's that working out for you?"

Honestly, you had been-- you always figured customers like that had it coming, and you'd relished in the chance to make him look like an idiot in front of presumably some very important people. "I'm sorry," you said again. "I was wrong. Please... please just get out and we can forget this ever happened."

You shuddered when his hand moved down to your skirt, rubbing your leg with a hum and slowly pushing up the fabric. "You were hoping for a big tip tonight, weren't you?" he chuckled. "I think I can still give you one."

"P-please," you choked out again, "Mr. Fischer, right? I'm sorry... just please don't--"

He covered your mouth again, grinning at you as he pulled the skirt up roughly and yanked your panties down, giving your ass a hard smack as you yelped behind the strong grip of his fingers. "Don't worry," he offered as he started to hastily open his fly with one hand, "I'm just going to remind you of your place. A whore like you will probably like it."

You shut your eyes tight, hearing him grunt as he adjusted himself to be right at your opening, teasing your hole with his head for just a moment before suddenly and forcefully shoving in. You screamed behind his hand, dropping your head defeatedly, and he groaned happily as he started to fuck you.

"That's it," he praised darkly, "just take it, honey."

Shuddering, you went limp under him, out of other options; you winced as his cock forced its way deep inside you, so deep that your back tried to arch up to avoid some of the intense pressure.

"Shh," he soothed, putting a hand on your back to keep it down, "that's better-- fuck, you little slut..."

He was speeding up already, and you still hadn't adjusted to his size. Clearly his shitty attitude wasn't compensating for anything, like you'd implied before-- and you choked on your moans of discomfort as he finally let go of your mouth. Only broken sighs came out, unfortunately, and in the corner of your eye you could see him staring down at you with a sneer.

"This is exactly what you deserve," he panted, "getting fucked like a cheap whore in this filthy car. I don't think I've ever been inside one of these things-- my god, is that a cassette player?! How old is this piece of shit?"

You groaned, amazed that he had the energy or focus to insult your car in a time like this-- you were just panting and holding tightly onto the beige fabric seats under you, hoping that someone, anyone, would see what was happening and stop him. God, if someone saw, they'd probably think this was a consensual thing, a kinky little public hookup-- but you couldn't just scream for help or something, you felt very confident that he would find a way to keep you silent.

He sighed as he buried his face in your neck, his hips moving faster-- needier, really. He was even moaning, squeezing your wrists again, acting oddly passionate as if this was something very different than what it was. "You could be pretty, you know," he mumbled to you, "if you smiled more-- and if you didn't do your makeup like a cheap whore. Well... I guess you can't help the cheap part."

"You could be pretty if you weren't a psychopath," you snapped back, making him chuckle proudly.

"Still got that fucking attitude," he noticed, "guess I haven't fucked it out of you yet. How about when you're dripping with my come? Then will you understand how you need to speak to your superiors?"

"Don't," you begged in a gasp, "please-- please don't--"

But he just growled and fucked you harder, making the whole car move with the force of his thrusts. "You fucking wanted me," he accused through his teeth, "didn't you? You wanted this. I could see it on your face, the second you looked at me-- you were imagining how well I'd wreck this little cunt."

You tried to shake your head, but he grabbed you by your hair and yanked your head back until you yelped out a sob.

"I'm close," he breathed, "gonna fucking fill you-- 'cause it's all your good for, sweetheart. Being a waitress isn't that fucking complicated, and you're still shit at that-- so how about you just embrace your natural talents, huh? How about you just take my fucking cock and say 'thank you'?"

"F-fuck you," you barely managed to rasp out, and he made sure to punish you for that by absolutely pounding into you for the last of it.

"Stupid fucking whore," he snarled between deep grunts, "f-fuck, you bitch--"

He moaned suddenly as he came, letting go of your hair and dropping you down onto the backseat again as he gave a few shallow, shaky thrusts; his grip was on your hips instead, keeping you still so he could go as deep as possible.

"Fuck," he sighed, panting to catch his breath; you blinked a haziness out of your eyes, hissing as he pulled out of you-- you were going to feel that sting tomorrow, if not longer.

He put his cock back in his trousers and zipped them up, getting out of the car and taking out his wallet.

"Here's a tip," he offered as he tossed a few bills at you, laughing as you widened your eyes at the realization that they were hundreds. "Start saving up for a new car. Or at least get this one cleaned... you're leaking my come all over the seats."

[redstarwriting]

the clash | vii. i wanna be sedated

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, you(?) hating hobie, anxious hobie, panic attacks, mentions of death, threat of main character death, giving blood, negative self-talk, ANGST

a/n: another short one, but that’s because it’s about to get intense. there’s a possibility the series may be ending within the next two chapters, but we shall see what happens! please enjoy this one, and i promise it won’t be all angst the rest of the time lmao there will be a pay off, next chapter should be LONG and give a smidge of happiness

previous chapter: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

now reading: vii. i wanna be sedated

next chapter: viii. love you to death

───────────────────────────────────

Hobie stares at Miguel. He can see his lips moving, but he can’t hear what he’s saying. All he can hear is his heartbeat and the blood rushing to his head. Kill? This other version of him was meant to kill you. Does that mean he’s going to kill you now that he killed him? No. No that can’t happen. He won’t let it happen.

“HOBIE!”

Hobie realizes he’s gripping the desk in front of him. His eyes are wide, and his heart is beating faster than he has ever felt it beat before. He clenches and unclenches his jaw, swallowing nothing. His throat is dry. Miguel hesitantly places a hand on his shoulder. “Hobie, can you hear me?” He nods, staring ahead of him at his hands. “I think I might know what you’re thinking. You won’t kill them. You aren’t going to take the place of Hobart on their world,” he assures him, and Hobie tries to control his shaky breathing. “You have to calm down,” Miguel says in probably the gentlest voice Hobie has ever heard from him. He forgets he’s a dad sometimes. And that he also has gone through some shit. He nods again, trying to take in what Miguel just said. He accidentally snaps two pieces off the desk with how hard he’s gripping it. He closes his eyes and takes a breath. “You were trainin’ ‘em to stop him.”

Miguel nods. “I was.”

“Does that mean I can still save ‘em?” Hobie looks at him, and Miguel sighs. “Maybe… but–”

“But what?” Hobie frantically asks, and Miguel frowns. “The Venom symbiote was supposed to take over as the Spider-Person for their world as Hobie Brown… if we defeat Venom…”

“Please don’t tell me…” Hobie whispers, and Miguel nods. “There is a 100% chance their world will collapse. It’s the final canon even in (Y/n)’s story.”

“No…” Hobie shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “No, there has to be a way! We can do somethin’!”

“Hobie…” Miguel starts, but Hobie turns his head towards him, suddenly angry. Ready to fight. “And you were just gonna let this bloody shit happen?! You care so fuckin’ much about the fuckin’ canon that–”

“HOBIE. No! I wasn’t going to let it happen. Why do you think I put so much time and effort into helping them?! I’ve been trying to fix it!” Miguel yells, “I know you might find it hard to believe but I’m not a fan of an evil symbiote taking over the world of someone I’ve been mentoring for the past month.” Hobie looks down again. “What if they just… stayed with me? In my world?” “Hobie, if their world disappears, they disappear,” Miguel explains and Hobie shakes his head. “No. Find out a way to make ‘em stay! You can do that! You have tech and all the shit to do it! We can save ‘em!” Hobie is screaming at this point, and Miguel stares at him for a moment. He sighs, rubbing his face, distressed. “There… might actually be a way,” he says. Hobie nearly falls to his knees. “How?”

“I’ve been developing something to change the genetic code of someone, making them appear like they belong in another universe. My thought process behind it is if Miles did it with the spider from Earth-42, we can do it here as well,” he explains, typing something into his computer. Hobie watches the screens. He reads everything happening in front of him, but it’s a little hard at this particular moment as it feels like everything is kind of crashing down around him. He is able to get some basic information on how Miguel would do this, though. “We’d just need somethin’ from my world, then?” he asks, and Miguel nods. “Yes… but unfortunately the process can be… painful.”

“How painful?” Hobie asks, and Miguel glances at him. “Are you willing to do anything to save them?”

“Yes!” Hobie says, and Miguel nods. “We tested it on inanimate objects until we were sure it would work, then we tested it on animals. And while it always turns out fine in the end… the process is difficult to watch. Their molecules will be rearranged and changed, tearing them apart and piecing them back together. Can you sit by and watch that happen to them?” Miguel asks, and Hobie gulps. “I can try…”

Miguel holds up a smaller device, showing it to Hobie. “What you do is you take anything from your universe, inanimate, and put it in here. I’ll also need a blood sample from you.” Hobie then notices that he’s still gripping the pieces of the desk in his hands. He opens his hands, and the remains of the desk fall out of them and onto the floor. Miguel hands the device over, and Hobie holds it, tossing it back and forth in his hands. “What do I do with this?” “I just told you,” Miguel says, glancing at him. Hobie stares at the little device in his hands. Right. He did just tell him. He hasn’t felt this scatterbrained in a long time. He takes off one of his pins from his vest, sticking it inside. It whirs and shuts tightly. Miguel takes it back from him and nods. “This should work perfectly. Now, I need some blood from you. We’ll perform a blood transfusion with the blood from your world to stabilize them as the genetic splicing takes place, luckily with the technology we have here on Earth-2099, the transfusion should take no longer than 3 minutes,” Miguel explains, as he begins walking toward his lab. Hobie follows him, quieter than he’s ever been in his entire life. Miguel glances back at him. “Are you okay to give some blood?”

“Yeah. Should be nothin’,” he mumbles and Miguel nods.

Miguel motions him to sit in a chair so he could get some blood from him. He sits. “You know, this is the first time you’ve done what I’ve said without fighting me on it,” Miguel says as machines start up, preparing Hobie’s arm for blood extraction. Hobie scoffs. “Come off it, mate,” he mumbles and Miguel shrugs. “I’m just saying.”

“I’m still Spider-Man. I can be responsible or whatever,” Hobie says as the machine takes some of his blood. “Mhm. Apparently, you can,” Miguel says, and he looks at him. “So, you like them, huh?”

“What?”

“(Y/n)? You actually ended up liking them?” Miguel asks again, and Hobie shrugs one shoulder slightly. “Guess so,” Hobie mumbles, and Miguel shakes his head. “The blood extraction should be done soon. How are you feeling?”

“Bloody brilliant,” he mumbles, and then sees Miguel’s face. “Buck up, bloke. I’m fine,” he answers and Miguel nods. “I’ll get everything ready. Bring them here, and we’ll figure out the rest. If it’s the worst case scenario, let me know. I’ll send back-up.”

Hobie stands, giving Miguel a nod, and walks out of the lab. The blood extraction did make him a little light-headed, but he doesn’t have the time to sit around and wait to feel better. He’s lost in his thoughts. He let his anger get the best of him, and in doing so, put you in danger. That was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to protect you and getting that asshole out of the way was the best way to do it. He thought it was the best way, at least. But it turns out that that asshole was him. And now you’re in even more danger than you were before. If that symbiote bonds with you… He doesn’t wanna think about it. Symbiotes can fuck up a host. He’s seen it happen. He doesn’t want you to have to go through any of that. And to top it all off, Miguel was saying how dangerous this symbiote is. Does that mean if it bonds with you, it’ll kill you? And is it like his symbiotes where noises drive it crazy? How did he fuck up this bad? 

He's torn out of his thoughts by a familiar voice. “Hobie! Hey!” Gwen yells, landing next to him. “Alright?”

“I’m good. You should have seen it, Miles, Pav, and I took down Doc Ock after he escaped from prison, it was crazy. We could have used you and (Y/n),” she starts rambling off and he just listens. “Sounds great,” he mumbles, and she raises an eyebrow at him. “You okay? You seem a little… down.”

“’m fine,” he mumbles, and she doesn’t believe him, but she knows he’ll talk about it when he’s ready. Miles and Pavitr appear shortly after, talking to each other about how they did a move together that was ‘so cool!’ and how they need to show Hobie it as soon as they can. “Right, great talkin’ to you all, but I have to go visit (Y/n),” Hobie says, fiddling with his watch to open a portal to your world. “Oh, are you guys on speaking terms again? About damn time,” Miles says, and Pav leaps up and down with a little clap. “Have the two of you accepted your feelings for each other yet?” Pav asks, and Hobie just glances at him, not saying anything. Usually, he would tell him to piss off. But he’s not about to do that when he did realize his feelings for you. So he just stays quiet.

The three of them look at each other with wide eyes as Hobie steps through the portal and into your world without a word.

As soon as he’s back, the air feels a little… different. Maybe it’s just him coming to terms with what he’s done, though. He’s unsure how much time has passed since he left, but a quick glance at the grandfather clock in the corner of your room tells him he’s been gone about three hours or so. He hears a soft meow and looks to see Shadow peeking out from behind a small crack between the wall and your fridge. “Hey, Shadow,” he says, crouching down and holding his hand out. Shadow cautiously approaches him, sniffing his fingers before walking into his hand. He pets him and looks around. “(Y/n)!” he calls your name but gets no response. Strange.

He hears another meow and looks down at Shadow who is staring at your balcony doors. The curtains have been pulled over them, but he can see that one is open from the wind blowing the curtain inside. He sees the silhouette of someone on your balcony, but if it was you, you would have been saying something to him by now.

He gets a bad feeling.

He slowly stands, and Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr end up coming through the portal. “Shh,” Hobie says, holding up his hand and pulling his mask over his face. The three of them glance at each other as they realize something is wrong, too. Hobie slowly walks toward your balcony doors, pushing the curtain out of the way and seeing your form facing out towards the city. You seem to be in your suit, as you’re shrouded in black from head to toe. But it looks like a new suit. Pav, Miles, and Gwen follow him, on edge the whole time. He stares at you for a moment, but you stay still.

“(Y/n)?” he says your name, and he sees your head tilt slightly, signifying you heard him. “Is that… you…?” he asks. You turn slowly. His eyes widen and his heart drops. He was too late. He sees a toothy grin spread across what was supposed to be your mask and clenches his fists as he hears Venom laugh. “(Y/n) can’t come to the phone right now,” Venom says, their otherworldly voice causing the four spiders to prepare for the worst. “But I would like to thank you, Hobie Brown, for freeing me of my constraints.”

Hobie has a flashback to his fight with himself. “The glass…” he mutters, and Venom lets out a laugh. He feels the world close in on him. His hands shake. He was too late. You were already taken over by Venom. As if reading his thoughts, Venom smiles at him, muttering the words that make his heart stop.

“You led me to them.”

───────────────────────────────

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[rinhaler]

THERE'S NOBODY HERE

CHAPTER SUMMARY: So you're trapped in a cabin with your hot ex who you haven't seen in months as well as his hot friends. Now what? Party and make him jealous, of course.

ex-fiancé!rin x f!reader

WARNINGS : 18+, alcohol consumption, oui'd smoking, shotgunning, lots of flirting, sex talk/discussions, squirting mention, dry humping?? (grinding while dancing), rejection, pet names (baby, princess).

WORDS : 8.6k

notes : this series may be a flop but I like it 😭🫶🏽

       LAST CHAPTER┊MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

Rin’s eyes lower from staring up at you, instead focusing on talking to his brother and the other guests as he comes into the cabin and finally shuts the door behind himself. They’re all catching up, it’s plain to see how close they all are and how happy they are to see each other.

Even Rin looks uncharacteristically happy to see everyone. Usually, the only thing on his mind is football and training. Maybe the holiday season is bringing out this new side of him.

Though you can’t help but feel a little nauseated. You know Sae is just as surprised to see him as you are, but still, if you trusted your better judgement, you wouldn’t have come just in case this happened. Your fingers curl around the banister tightly as you try to steel yourself.

“I can’t believe this.” you whisper to Chigiri, who runs a soft palm soothingly across your back.

“Come on.” he tilts his head towards the top of the stairs, suggesting you go and reassess the situation in the safety of your bedroom. He leads the way, and you follow hurriedly, not getting the chance to see Rin glance up at you disappearing. “It’s giving main character.” Chigiri can’t help but smirk as he shuts the door behind you both.

“It’s giving… I’m fucked.” you laugh back before screaming into a pillow. You pull it away, your hair messed up a little before Chigiri puts it back into place for you. “I literally can’t believe this is happening. So much for no Rin talk all week!”

“Oh fuck, I know. So much for a rebound, too.” he sighs. You do a fake little cry before genuinely groaning in distress as he thinks. “I mean, you could still do it, but it’ll just end up causing drama.”

“Yeah no way, maybe we should leave?” you suggest, and he doesn’t argue. It might be for the best, it’s an uncomfortable, unexpected change in circumstance and both of you can’t help but feel less welcome. “They’re his friends. We were only invited because he wasn’t supposed to be coming.”

“Plus we can spend the week together anyway since you managed to get out of seeing your parents.”

“Right!” you nod excitedly. “Okay, wanna help me pack and then I’ll help you?”

“Sure. But I don’t need help and I know you won’t help anyway.” he chides, laughing softly as he stands tall and looks around thinking about where to start.

Really, nothing gets done. You talk about packing, but you both end up sitting on top of the bed and gossiping more about what happened.

Rin Itoshi is here.

And you haven’t seen him since the breakup. That awful, painful breakup. Enough time has passed that the memory doesn’t feel as raw. But Christ it still hurts. You can still feel the way tears pricked at your eyes and flooded your lash line as you broke things off with him. They cascaded downwards with no sign of stopping as Rin begged and pleaded, sobbing to give him another chance.

You wanted to.

You remember how agonising it felt to deny him that chance. The fear in his eyes as he realised things weren’t going to be fixed with words and he really was losing you forever. The exact moment his heart broke into pieces will be etched in your mind for the rest of your life. The pain of that vision has dulled but is ever present.

And seeing him, now, look at you with such little care is like a knife tearing into your flesh. His lack of smile is like salt and bleach pouring into a fresh wound.

You do your best to hide a fresh tear rolling down your cheek from Hyoma, but it’s too late. He sits up on the bed and leans over to you to wipe it away. And you know what’s coming, a classic pep talk from him that always make you feel better. Even if he can be harsh, he always knows best.

Just as he’s about to speak, though, the door swings open.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t— are you two a thing now?”

You shake your head, trying to conceal your red, watery eyes from Rin as he stands in the doorway. Hyoma objects. A little too much for your liking. But there isn’t a single indication of jealousy or relief as Rin listens to him speak.

The thought of you moving on doesn’t faze him at all.

“You’re in my room.” Rin tells you, and you nod.

“Rin! I was just about to tell you that your rooms been taken, you’ll have to—” Sae follows his brother into the room, looking at you with a slight look of sorrow as he can tell how upset you are. And if Sae has noticed, Rin definitely has.

“We’ll be gone soon.” you try to sniffle discreetly. You can’t bear looking at Rin, but your eyes meet his brothers as he cocks his head in confusion. “We were just about to pack and head home. You can have your room back, sorry.” you explain. The brothers watch you as you walk over to the wardrobe and begin collecting your clothes, and you’re thankful for the opportunity to hide your face and wipe your shimmering cheeks.

“You’re not serious, are you?” Sae asks, and all you can do is nod. “Rin was going to take the couch.”

“Was I?” he raises an eyebrow and grimaces at his brother who returns a scathing glare back at him. “Don’t leave on my account. I thought we were going to be mature about this.”

“This is being mature, Rin.” you sigh, finally looking at him. “This is your house. Your friends. It’s okay, it makes more sense for us to leave.”

“Chigiri, talk to her.” Sae requests, only to end up disappointed when Chigiri confesses that he agrees with you. He sighs, but tries to think of a solution. “Look, it’s gonna get dark soon. At least wait until morning? You’ve only been here for an hour or so, and you were excited for this. Things don’t have to change.” he reasons, watching you and Hyoma share a look as you consider it.

“It’s a long drive… icy roads… and he’s right about it getting dark.” Chigiri says to you, quietly, though the brothers can hear. You look at all of them as you think, but you focus on Chigiri as he continues. “Why don’t you move your stuff into my room and then Rin can have his own room?” he suggests.

You sigh, nodding. He starts helping you bring your clothes into his room rather than packing them away, and Rin drags his suitcase into his own room so he can unpack when you’re done.

Sae helps with your stuff, too, sticking around in Chigiri’s room to make sure you’re okay.

“I hope you don’t think I’m setting you up or anything…” he tells you, “I swear he told me he wasn’t coming. He actually told me he’d rather break both of his legs than come here.”

“It’s okay, Sae, I know. I trust you.” you smile at him. Him and Chigiri work well as a team, pretty much taking over and not allowing you to lift a finger as they help you transfer your things to his room. “I still feel like I shouldn’t be here. I don’t feel great and I’m probably going to ruin the mood.”

“Not possible, Rin is the biggest buzzkill without trying.” he laughs, picking up the golden glittery dress Chigiri had noticed earlier. “We’re having a party tonight, definitely wear this.” Sae tells you, handing it to you.

You model in front of the standing mirror in the corner of the room and hold the garment up against your body. It’ll definitely turn some heads, for sure. And even if you can’t actually hook up with anyone, you’re sure you’ll get some attention either way.

“I’m going to town for another booze run, wanna come, Chigiri?” Sae asks, turning focus from you to your friend. Chigiri looks at you inquisitively, like he’s asking permission, but you only shrug.

“I should shower and start getting ready for tonight, anyway!” you tell him. “But you better be back in time to do my hair.” you poke out your tongue.

“Ugh you take forever.” he sighs, heading for the exit with Sae. “Go, go.” he mutters, walking ahead of him until he’s completely out of sight and down the stairs.

“Otoya is coming with us,” Sae tells you. “Ryusei will keep you company if you get lonely.” he smiles, leaving you alone with your thoughts and allowing you to ruminate on the fact you’re stuck in a house with your ex.

Chigiri isn’t back by the time you get out of the shower. You rush across the hall, a little deflated that you’ve downgraded to a room without an ensuite. Though you’re sure everyone is downstairs, your adrenaline is through the roof at the thought of being seen in just a towel.

You make it back to your room unseen, however, locking the door behind you when you get inside. You’ll have to hurry and get dressed in case Chigiri comes back. You’re sure he’s seen you naked countless times through your friendship when you’re too hammered to care, but the thought of him walking in on you with nothing on is too embarrassing to even think about.

YOU: are u still out?

CHIGIRI: yeah we’re heading back now tho

You put your phone away and start to lather yourself in all of your lotions and potions. You’re sure he’ll comment on how overpowering the smell of strawberries and coconut is when he returns but you can’t find it in you to care. You feel so smooth and sweet and invigorated.

There’s a short and vest pyjama set plaguing your mind that you bought brand new that you’re itching to wear. Though when you strip yourself of your towel, you realise you should have brought a dressing gown.

It makes you think about Ryusei.

You’re sure there’s a spare in his ensuite, or if not a spare, he might let you borrow his. You unlock the door to your room once you’re dressed in your barely there loungewear, shivering a little as water still drips and spills across your skin.

The corridor with each room is bare as you look up and down. Though as you walk towards where Sae said Ryusei’s room would be, you spot Rin poke his head out of his bedroom. He sees you, too, barely glancing at you for more than a moment before he goes back inside of his room.

Your stomach churns, nerves getting the better of you. But your eyes soon light up when you see Ryusei leave his own room. You want to call out to him, to run towards him, but he disappears just as quickly when he follows Rin into his room.

It makes you pause, unsure of what to do. You don’t particularly want to see Rin again, but you’d quite like to catch up with Ryusei.

You take a breath, and slowly approach. The door is ajar, though you don’t feel confident enough to reveal yourself. Instead, you rest against the wall. It’s not like you’re eavesdropping, you’re just working up the courage to talk to him.

“Crazy that she’s here.” Ryusei laughs. They’re talking about you, you realise. You slow your breathing and actively make the effort to listen in on their conversation, now. It’s icky and invasive and you hate yourself for it. But you can’t help yourself. You want to know what they’re thinking. Both of them. “How’re you feelin’ about it?”

“Well—” he stops, thinking. It goes silent for a while, and he begins moving around the room. It makes your heart race. Does he know you’re there? Is he about to close the door? You inhale a slow, silent breath, holding it in your lungs for as long as possible. “I’m seeing someone… so I don’t really care.”

“You are? You kept that quiet!”

“You never asked.” Rin responds without missing a beat. “We’re also not friends.”

Ryusei laughs at him, though he isn’t sure if he’s joking or not. They’re friends, right? They talk often enough, and Rin probably sees Ryusei more than he sees his own brother. They hang out a lot outside of practices and games, so he doesn’t doubt that they’re friends, despite what Rin says.

You feel your heart stop beating, you swear.

For the first time, maybe ever, Chigiri was wrong. Rin is seeing someone. He actually moved on. You can’t be mad; you have no right to be mad. Not when you ended things. If you cared about him so much, you wouldn’t have broken his heart. He has every right to move on, and so you do.

Though you can’t stop the way your heart aches. The way it bleeds each time it beats, it’s scarring with every thump. You feel the lashing of a whip lacerating it as it does all it can to keep you alive.

But you’ve died inside.

You can’t help the way your throat suffocates itself with a lump in a desperate bid to gain more oxygen. Your eyes are full. They’re wet and pitiful as you come to terms with the news. Maybe you thought you’d find your way back to each other one day.

After the breakup, he didn’t bother you at all. He took it terribly in the moment. But after, he seemed to shut down completely. Everything was so methodical and planned. He arranged to have his stuff moved out by movers and requested you wouldn’t be there. It was quick and seamless, and you never heard from him again after that.

It hurt.

It stung, in fact.

But in your mind, you hoped that things would change. Even up until now, you hoped you would both grow as people and maybe one day find each other again. You’d be ready to grow up and be who you each needed to be so that you could be together in the right way.

But that can’t happen, now.

You were too hopeful that he’d change for you.

You just gave him the freedom to be someone else’s.

The wood floor creaks as you try and stealthily sneak away, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Rin or Ryusei. You hear Ryusei question if someone is there, and it makes everything worse. You quickly try and disguise your tears before you reveal yourself, pretending to be on the phone as you stand in the doorway.

“Sorry I was just talking to my dad and pacing around! Bye!” you tell them, hurrying away before either of them can call you out on it. You aren’t sure if they realised you were listening in, and truthfully, you don’t want to know. If either of them were to ask you, you think you’d have a breakdown.

You rush back to Chigiri’s room and lock the door behind you, and for a while, you manage to keep composed. Tears are flowing and you feel horrible about the situation, but you’re surprisingly calm.

“Hey, kiddo,” you hear a soft knock at the door. “Can I come in?” Ryusei asks. And that is when you begin to sob.

You go to the door and unlock it, opening it wide and allowing him to see your puffy eyes and soaking cheeks. He tuts, sorrowfully, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs as he enters the room. He closes the door behind himself again and locks it before guiding you to the bed.

The tears don’t stop, and he keeps wiping them away for you. It hurts. God, it fucking hurts. If you had some hindsight and known he’d move on this quickly, you never would have ended things. You’re realising a lot about the breakup and what a big mistake you’ve made, now. And it’s stupid and selfish and you hate yourself for it.

You know you weren’t happy at the time.

But you were a lot fucking happier than you are right now.

“You heard, then?” he asks. “What were you doin’? Eavesdropping doesn’t seem like you.”

“I— I wasn’t. Not really… I didn’t mean to.” you try to explain, still stuttering and sniffling through your words. He coos and shushes you, trying to calm you down so that you can speak and think clearly. He urges you to take deep breaths, and finally, you can explain. “I was coming to see you and then I saw you go into Rin’s room so I got nervous and hid.”

“Ah,” he nods. “Well, what did you want to see me for?”

“I just… wanted to know if you had a spare dressing gown.” you tell him half of the truth, the other half glued to your tongue and unwilling to be shared. Though his smile, his cheeky, almost intimidating smirk has you folding for him and confessing the rest. “’n I missed you, thought we could catch up.”

He pulls you into his arms and squeezes tight. He can’t even begin to tell you how much he’s missed you. Of course, you’re all busy doing your own thing, but he got to see you way more when you were dating Rin.

You have no idea how much he cherishes those moments you came with them when they travelled to away games. The pranks you played with him and the nights you spent up watching movies and learning more about each other.

He’s never crossed a line with you, ever.

But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t thought about it.

Rin is one of his closest friends. And, at the time, you were his. He’d never dream of making a move on you. He wouldn’t want to ruin his friend’s relationship and break the trust between them.

You withdraw from his hug, though. Your eyes shimmer and twinkle as they look into his wantonly. They’re so flirtatious yet stern in comparison to how wet and desperate your own look. The tension between you is rife, and you swear the only thing that can be heard is the way your heart pounds.

He doesn’t expect you to lean forward.

He doesn’t expect you to tilt your head and close your eyes as your face gets closer to his.

It takes him aback, his eyes widening in shock as he realises what you’re doing. His hands fly to your shoulders, and he pulls away from you, keeping you at arm’s length. You feel every organ plummet through your body as you realise what an idiot you are.

“Oh my God.” you sigh, moving away from him and covering your hands over your mouth in horror. How could you be so stupid? You’re stone cold sober and don’t have a single excuse to fall back on. You just threw yourself at him, and he didn’t give you any indication that he was interested.

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re just hurting, and I’m here.” he starts, getting closer to you and putting an arm around you before you shrug him off and walk away. “Things don’t need to be weird, baby, I understand.”

You scoff, looking at him briefly before your eyes fill with tears again at the sheer embarrassment. He stands up, desperate to hold you. To console you. But you don’t let him. Keeping him away as far as possible as you move away from him and push him, almost angrily.

A turn of the handle at the bedroom door makes you both freeze. The following knock at the door forces you to look at him.

“Don’t tell anyone.” you request, eyes pleading with him as you begin to panic.

He doesn’t speak, heading to the door to see who’s there. You’re relieved when it swings open, it’s Chigiri. He looks a little surprised to see you in your scanty pyjamas with Ryusei in the room. The latter of the men doesn’t say a word as he slips by him. Not uttering a sound or even looking at him as he goes back to his own room.

Chigiri comes in, quickly, locking the door again and setting down the shopping bag.

You see two glasses in his hand, quickly grabbing them and setting them down as he pulls out a bottle of rosé wine from the shopping bag. He holds it up, raising a brow, asking a silent question of whether you want to start the party early or not.

“Pour the drinks, bitch.” you tell him. He laughs, screwing off the lid as you grab your makeup bag and a few different eyeshadow palettes from your suitcase.

“Do I even want to know?” he wonders, holding your glass out to you. You take it from his hand as you walk by and sit at the dressing table with your makeup. He circles around you, grabbing his hair dryer so he can start doing your hair at the same time.

“I tried to kiss him.” you smile, sarcastically. “Tried being very important, because he was horrified. He couldn’t keep me far enough away, Hyoma.”

“Well… you are his friends ex, babe. Give him some credit.” Hyoma tries to reason. “There’s no way he wouldn’t kiss you back otherwise.”

“Oh! Speaking of my ex, he’s seeing someone.” you start laughing hysterically before fanning your hands in front of your face to try and stop yourself from crying. “Remember,” you laugh-cry again, “remember when you said he’s too focused on work to move on? Hahaha!” you continue, grabbing your wine glass and drinking every last drop.

“Oh boy.” Chigiri speaks, downing his own glass before topping them both up. Admittedly, you feel way calmer as he starts brushing your hair. His soft hands raking through your locks almost sends you to sleep. “Who told you?”

“No one, I accidentally overheard. Not that it matters.” you shrug. “We’re definitely leaving tomorrow. I can’t do this.”

“Fine.” he shrugs. “You know what you can do, though? Wear that slutty little dress you bought and give him a show. You’re literally a model, babe. What are the odds he’s found a hotter girlfriend than you? I bet she’s ugly.” Hyoma smiles.

God, he’s the best. He knows exactly the right thing to say every time you’re in distress. You wish you could offer the same support to him. But honestly, his life is pretty well put together. He rarely gets involved in drama. And even when he does, he always knows how to get himself out of it.

“Gonna get your hair looking perfect, okay? Wear that dress, grind on the guys, get wasted. And then tomorrow we can dip.” he explains, and you nod. “Who cares if he’s dating someone? You think he won’t get jealous if you dry fuck his friends?”

“No, you’re right.” you tell him before taking another drink. You aren’t sure if you’re feeling genuine confidence or if the blush pink liquid is rushing straight to your head. It doesn’t matter, though. Everything he’s saying is true. And you’re ready and raring to go. “He was so possessive when we were together.”

He nods, and you both clink your glasses together as you seem to have a solid plan prepared to set in motion.

Although, it’s half-baked as best.

Time flies as you get ready. Your makeup is settled on your face to perfection and Chigiri finishes off your hair, making sure there isn’t a strand out of place. He applauds as he admires his handiwork. He reaches for the bottle of wine, realising it’s empty as he goes to pour himself another glass.

“Fuck sake.” he mutters. He watches you as you stand up, the two of you finally notice the sound of loud music playing from downstairs as the room falls silent. You do a little dance as you strip down to nothing, not caring about your present company. “Oh we’re doing this.” he exclaims, turning away on instinct.

“Oh fuck I’m sorry, I forgot.” you laugh, and now you realise you’re definitely at the very least tipsy. He laughs too, noting how confident you are as you stand completely bare in front of him. It’s something you’re used to, honestly. Doing runway shows gives you no room to be embarrassed about your natural form. But for whatever reason, Chigiri makes you feel shy unless you’re drunk.

“I can’t believe you got a Hollywood wax you whore.” he laughs. “Trying to act like you weren’t trying to fuck but you were prepared!”

“You never know, Chigs~!” you sing a little as you walk to the wardrobe to grab the golden dress. You slip into it with ease. You aren’t allowing it to wear you, though. It’s yours and you own it. There is no doubt that you are the one wearing it, dominating it like it was created for your body and yours alone. “I can still hook up, y’know? We’re leaving tomorrow. Who cares if I stir the pot?” you shrug.

“Listen, if you call me Chigs one more time I’m gonna suffocate you with a pillow in your sleep.” he warns you, and you giggle as you slip into your high heels. He doesn’t dispute your point, though. This might be the last time you see any of these guys. Rin has moved on, and there’s no reason you can’t too. And while you’re at it, you may as well burn every bridge in the process.

“Let’s party.” you wink, opening the door.

You’re greeted to a cacophony of cheers and wolf whistles as you descend the staircase. The boys are scattered around. A few of them in the kitchen, while the others are in the lounge.

Otoya curls his finger from the kitchen, inviting you over to hang out with him and the others. You look over your shoulder towards the lounge. Ryusei and Rin are staring at you with an intense gaze. Of course there’s a chance Ryusei told him that you threw yourself at him, but you’re choosing to believe they’re admiring how hot you look instead.

“You look stunning.” Eita tells you, offering you a puff of his J as he holds it in front of your face. It’s been a while since you got high. You stopped when you started dating Rin, and you didn’t feel the need to pick it back up when you broke up. But, now, you have nothing to lose.

“Thank you.” you smile, accepting the weed and the compliment. You admire the lights as they change colour quickly, making you feel like you’re at a club. You immediately sink into a bar stool as you feel the drugs take hold of your body, weariness hitting you instantly.

Karasu lights another blunt and hands it to Chigiri, who smokes without hesitation.

“Do you want a drink?” Sae asks you both, looking between you as you get more and more comfortable in the group. Chigiri nods, walking around the counter to help him.

He knows what you like, after all.

“She looks fucking amazing.” Oliver comments, standing up from between Ryusei and Rin before he heads over to join all of the action in the kitchen. “Hi gorgeous,” he whispers in your ear as he places his hand in the small of your back. You smile, cheerfully, resting your body into his as he holds you close.

“Pace yourself.” Chigiri warns you, sliding your drink to you. You sniff it, realising he’s poured you some Malibu and coke into a cup. His warning goes ignored, however, as you drink two thirds of the drink before setting it down.

“I’m fucked.” you laugh, staggering a little as you walk beside Chigiri to get another drink. He looks concerned, but leaves you be for now. It takes all of your power not to look over to the only two men not hanging out with you right now. “Are they looking?” you whisper to Chigiri.

He looks, quickly.

“Mhmm.”

Your smile widens and you can’t help but laugh. Hyoma snatches the bottle from you as you go to pour a new drink. Oliver passes your original cup to you, and you beam as you remember you hadn’t finished it, though it’s gone in an instant.

“Real party girl, aren’tcha?” Karasu asks, putting his arm around your shoulder and forcing his blunt into your mouth. “You’ll be asleep before midnight I bet.” he challenges you.

You ignore him, turning to face him.

His eyes widen in realisation as he notices you’re keeping the smoke deep in your lungs. He closes the gap between your faces and his lips rest against yours, accepting the smoke back as you exhale it.

“Fuuuck, am I in love?” Karasu laughs as the exchange ends. He turns away, biting his lip slightly as you bend over the counter and rest your head in your hands. The skirt of your dress rides up a little, and Chigiri graciously tugs it down for you.

“Babe, stop,” he warns you, leaning over to whisper in your ear. “You’re gonna end up passing out.”

You gulp, nervously, feeling anxious under Chigiri’s intense eyes. You know he’s only looking out for you, but you can’t help feeling a little on edge. Sae comforts you, though, pulling you into his side like a protective big brother as he asks how you’re doing.

“Having fun?”

“Yes! Thanks for inviting us.” you smile.

“Glad you wore this one, suits you.” he nods. You watch him as he smokes beside you, and you decline when he offers you a puff. Chigiri, however, gratefully accepts without even being asked. Sae leaves your side in favour of sitting next to your best friend as they talk and bond over the joint.

You aren’t sure what to do, now. You feel a little deflated after Chigiri’s warning and you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. It seems like you shouldn’t drink or smoke anymore, but you’re brimming with so much energy you don’t particularly want to sit down.

“Hey, c’mere.” Eita orders, Oliver sits down next to him upon his request.

And when you approach, that is when Ryusei finally decides to come over. He smiles at everyone, but can’t seem to catch your attention as you’re too fixated on the two men with different tints of green in their hair.

Eita stands up when you hoist yourself onto the counter, and he slots himself between your open legs. Ryusei watches the scene unfold, anger bubbling at his jawline as he contemplates whether to intervene or not. His protective side roaring at him to get you away from the renowned playboys.

“Let her be.” Chigiri tells him, noticing his irritation. Ryusei sits down opposite to him, leaning over to chat quietly amongst themselves. Sae listens in, too, but only because he’s in close proximity. “I heard what happened. Did you tell Rin?”

“No, I didn’t.” Ryusei answers, though he doesn’t look happy about it. It feels like a betrayal to hide something so big from his friend, but he knows nothing good will come from sharing. “Oliver and Eita, they’re—”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s none of your business. She’s not looking for a boyfriend, she’s letting her hair down. So, whatever you’re planning, stop. Let her have fun. If you wanted her, you should have—” Chigiri stops himself when he remembers Sae is right beside him. He looks over at you, still being showered in attention by Eita and Oliver.

“Do you have feelings for my ex-sister-in-law, Ryusei?” Sae asks, laughing lightly before passing him the gross remainder of his blunt. Ryusei shrugs, smoking.

“’s complicated.” Ryusei announces, uncaring. He’s sure nothing that is discussed here tonight will be remembered come morning. “Rin! Get off your phone and come over!”

Rin flips him off and continues playing on his phone. You’re a little disappointed, but it can’t be helped. Karasu sits on the other side of Chigiri while Sae shuffles a deck of cards.

“Set up ring of fire, dude.”

“Ring of fire sucks.” you yell over your shoulder, though you giggle when Otoya’s fingers gently caress your chin and force you back to look at him. Oliver pours three shots for all of you, handing them to you and his friend. You drink them together, giggling even more when you feel the buzz rush right into your brain.

“What drinking games do you like, sweetheart?” Oliver asks, his hand resting on your thigh while his thumb softly strokes your skin.

You tell them that you like never have I ever the best, prompting Sae to call Rin over. Then, and only then, does he actually listen. Chigiri makes sure everyone has a drink, pouring something random for Rin as he takes a seat next to Ryusei and opposite to his brother.

It’s nice seeing the kitchen island so lively. In a weird way, you feel like a teenager again. Finding out someone’s parents are out of town and having a big, debaucherous house party while you play drinking games and get too fucked up to even know where you are.

Obviously you’re grown, now. And you like to think you’re a bit more responsible than you were back then. Though it’s likely it might just be Chigiri keeping you on the right path. He shoots a smile at you as Eita helps you down from the counter. Oliver moves one seat along and you sit between them, his arm is around the back of your chair while Eita’s hand remains firmly on your thigh.

“Who’s going first?” Ryusei asks.

“I’ll go, let’s start easy.” Karasu answers. “Never have I ever ate food.” you all laugh and everyone takes a drink. He nudges Chigiri to go next.

“Never have I ever had sex.” everyone laughs, drinking again. You and Rin exchange an awkward look before looking elsewhere.

“Horny, Chigiri? Onto the sex questions already?” Ryusei laughs.

“We all know people only play this for the sex questions so I’m just moving the process along.” Chigiri rolls his eyes before looking at Sae, assuming the questions are going around the table clockwise.

“Never have I ever eaten ass.” He drinks as soon as he finishes talking, and he smiles as Rin grunts, realising he stole his little brother’s question.

You watch Oliver and Eita either side of you drink as well as Ryusei. Karasu admits he hasn’t done it but it very open to trying it, earning a laugh from the group. Rin sits silently for a while as he tries to think of a question. It takes him too long, so Ryusei decides to take over.

“Never have I ever cheated.”

Oliver and Eita laugh before drinking. Chigiri hesitates, but drinks too. Everyone hoots and hollers as he flips them all off. In his defence, he got cheated on first, it was a revenge fuck! Though you don’t speak on his behalf, he doesn’t feel the need to defend himself.

“Never have I ever had a threesome.” Oliver laughs, Eita laughs too.

“Fuck you, man.” he chuckles as they both take a drink. Ryusei, Karasu and Sae all drink too.

“I feel so boring.” you giggle, “You two are gonna be drunker than me at this rate.” you tell the men either side of you.

“Maybe we can change your answer tonight.” Eita whispers into your ear. Rin and Ryusei stare daggers at the three of you, and it only makes you play into it more. Chigiri smirks when he looks over at Rin. His face is unchanging, but he can see that cold, calculated rage burning behind his eyes.

You turn to face Eita, your lips ghosting his before you face the rest of the group again. “Never have I ever been to a party at the Itoshi cabin.” you smile, everyone takes a drink, Rin drinking a heartier amount than everyone else before asking Chigiri for a refill.

“Never have I ever made a chick squirt.” Eita smirks as he drinks. Oliver joins in, and you can’t help but wonder if they shared a girl and gave them that experience. You watch on as Ryusei, and Rin drink, too. Your face flushes with embarrassment as Rin drinks and he looks at you again, averting your gaze and hoping nobody notices. “Fair play, Itoshi.” Eita nods towards Rin.

“Shut up.” he responds. “Never have I ever smoked weed.” he shrugs, reclining back in his seat while everyone else drinks. You can’t help but feel a little disappointed that he’s too focused on his phone rather than being entirely present in the moment with you all. You can’t help but wonder if it’s because he’s too preoccupied talking to his girlfriend.

“I was thinking we could do a secret Santa thing while we’re here, by the way.” Sae suggests, and Chigiri smiles at the idea. “We can all head to town together with a spending budget and find something.”

“That’s so cute!” you nod.

“We can’t do it.” Chigiri reminds you. “We’re leaving in the morning.”

“What?” Sae asks, quickly, and Rin is listening in carefully, now. His phone slotted into his back pocket as he observes your exchange. “I thought we figured everything out?”

You look at Ryusei, uncomfortably and gulp. His eyes soften as he realises you want to leave because of him, but he can’t say anything and start senseless drama. He doesn’t want you to go because of him. He doesn’t want you to go at all. However, he knows while everyone is intoxicated and tensions are high, confessing the reason will only lead to an unnecessary uproar.

“You— You should stay, kid.” is the most he can offer. “We haven’t had a chance to catch up properly, right?” he hopes you can take the hint. He can’t talk about it now, but there is definitely a discussion needed. You sigh, and nod.

“We should stay, Hyoma…” you smile at your best friend. And he looks relieved. He looks pleased that you’re spending a few more days with this crazy group and hopefully having more little parties like this. “And secret Santa sounds like a great idea, Sae.” you nod.

Sae smiles, excitedly. He pats Chigiri on the back and they laugh together happily. They start talking about the gift exchange and how to do it. Sae gets up in search of a pen while Chigiri tears up pieces of cardboard from a drink crate to write on. Sae hands him a pen, and they get to work writing down everyone’s names. Ryusei hands them an empty cup to put the names in.

“Just pass the cup around and take a name.” Chigiri tells the group as he draws the first name and passes the cup to Sae. Rin follows and then passes down to Ryusei. You, Oliver and Eita take your names and then Karasu gets the final piece of cardboard. “We good? Cool.”

“What’s the budget?” Rin asks.

“We’ll decide tomorrow,” Sae answers. “Just don’t forget or lose the name.”

“Does anyone want to dance?” you ask, swallowing the last of your drink. Oliver and Eita nod immediately, Chigiri shrugs and Karasu agrees too. The five of you head towards the lounge where the music is playing loudest.

Chigiri doesn’t dance, but he steps from foot to foot in time with the music. He keeps an eye on the grumpy gang still sitting in the kitchen while you take turns dancing on the three men giving you all of their attention.

You hadn’t expected to be so drawn to Eita, but his height and calm demeanour are pulling you in. His hand rests on your waist while you dance together, your ass pressed comfortably against his crotch.

He plays it cool, of course, whispering sweetly in your ear.

You watch Chigiri as he gets bored with the music, skipping the song to something more familiar.

“You’re a model, yeah?” Eita asks, directly into your ear canal. It makes you shudder, but you nod. “Show us.” he orders, though you’re sure it’s intended as a suggestion. They all seem entertained with the idea, though. No one more encouraging than Chigiri.

He’s your number one supporter, and you love him for it.

He looks a little taken aback as you move away from him, and your face turns expressionless yet sultry. You rise up the small steps that connect the lounge and the entryway, doing the best walk that you can towards the kitchen in your drunken state. You take your time when you get closer to Rin, Ryusei and Sae, posing for a while before turning back towards the other half of the guests.

They all clap and smile when you finish, your friendly, warm smile returning to you.

“That’s her drunk, imagine when she’s focused.” Chigiri hiccups, Karasu laughs with him. The two of them get to chatting and dancing again as they discuss the party thus far.

Oliver ruffles your hair and winks, heading back to the kitchen to get a refill.

“She’s good. She’s a little firecracker, isn’t she?” he laughs.

The siblings and Ryusei don’t say a word. As worried as Ryusei is about you, he tries to distract himself by talking to Sae and Oliver instead. Rin, however, can’t stop looking at you. You’ve stopped thinking about him, though. Your attention is entirely with Eita for now. Chigiri is taking it all in, on your behalf, making mental notes of things to tell you tomorrow.

Hopefully he won’t be too drunk to recall it come morning.

Eita squeezes your ass as you get closer to him. Rin stands up, finishing his drink and telling everyone goodnight. He heads up the stairs when he sees you and Eita almost share a kiss, your lips connect, though you break it before it can really be called a kiss.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

You look towards the stairs, and you hate how Ryusei and Sae are looking at you. It’s like you’re so predictable and they know exactly what you’re going to do. You can’t help it, though.

“I’m sorry.” you tell Eita, running away from him and chasing Rin up the stairs.

Rin’s door is closed, but not locked. You feel slightly sober now that you’re here. Part of you regrets running away and leaving Eita behind, but you know you’d have regretted being so petty and hurting Rin in the morning. Especially now that you’re staying.

You knock on the door, and he doesn’t respond.

Really, you should walk away. He’s either sulking or trying to sleep. Maybe even both. Your better judgement is telling you that you should leave him to it. But you can’t. You’ve been trying to get a reaction out of him all night and you finally got it.

Girlfriend or not, you got what you wanted.

It has to mean something.

So you enter without permission. The room is dark, and there’s no sign of him on the bed. You see the balcony door slightly ajar, and the biting breeze confirms his whereabouts. Did he leave because he was tired? Or did he leave because he felt jealous?

Of course there’s a chance you could be overthinking, but you have to know for sure. Admittedly, discussing your feelings whilst drunk might not be the brightest idea. It doesn’t stop you, though. He knows you’re here when he hears your heels click against the wood flooring. He looks over his shoulder, he’s leaning over the balcony railing when you step out and see him.

“You’re in the wrong room.” he tells you, turning around and resting his elbows on the railing as he faces you. The dark night sky obscures most of his face, but the moonlight highlights him gorgeously. It makes your knees weak, and you can barely think of what you want to say.

“I know,” you tell him. “I just wanted to check on you.”

He scoffs, but nods. You stand beside him and look over towards the town. The cold, bitter wind makes you feel drunker. Part of you can’t believe you’re actually staying here after you were so adamant that you were leaving. The glittering lights of the snow-covered village makes you smile unintentionally.

It’s how you’d imagine Santa’s workshop, if he were real.

“Um… congratulations on the new girlfriend, by the way.” you start, instantly regretting bringing it up. You’re sure you’ll start crying if he starts fawning over her. You don’t even know her, but you hate her. You try to keep calm and remember Chigiri saying she’s probably ugly. At the very least she’s got to be less attractive than you. “I’m glad you found someone… I hope you’re very happy together.”

“We are.” he tells you, immediately. You gulp and it feels like swallowing glass. He’s always been blunt, it’s not because he’s particularly angry or bitter towards you. It’s just who he is. And still, it hurts. “Are you interested in Otoya?”

You’re frozen without a response. You aren’t sure whether to lie or be honest, though you fear he knows you too well and will know if you’re lying to him.

“He’s fun.” you shrug. His lips curls into a smirk at that. It tells him all he needs to know without you saying anything at all. You feel defeated, completely and utterly, as you look at his expression. “I don’t want to come between you and your friends, Rin.”

“I don’t care.” he shrugs, “Do what you want.”

His words are like bullets shredding through your skin. You do what you can to maintain your composure, trying to regain control of the situation and the conversation.

“I thought you might be upset when you left the party…”

“No,” he corrects you, his gorgeous teal eyes fixate on your own as he speaks. “I’m tired. I wanted to say goodnight to my girlfriend, but she must already be asleep.”

And, with that, you run out of willpower to continue talking. He sees how tears begin to prick at your eyes, and you try to walk away before they spill over again. You offer him a quick goodnight as you try to hurry back through the cabin and to yours and Chigiri’s room.

He stops you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back out into the cold.

“You’re unbelievable.” he tells you, bending down so that your noses almost touch. His eyes bore into yours as he offers nothing but a harsh, callous stare. You want to run, but you can’t. His grip on your wrist is firm, and you’re worried the cold temperature will aid in any bruising. The strength of his hold isn’t painful, but the chill of your skin is intensifying it. “You broke up with me. Yet you have the gall to be jealous?”

“That’s not fair…” you whimper, but he’s right. You’ve been saying the same thing all day. Even before you knew he was seeing anyone, you knew you had no right to be upset considering you were the one who ended things. And yet, here you are, trying to defend yourself now that you’re suffering the consequences of your own actions. “I didn’t know you’d move on so quickly… I didn’t know I’d be seeing you again… I didn’t know it would h-hurt.” you hiccup, and you do your best to wipe away your tears with your free hand.

“You just wanted me to grieve forever, yeah?” he wonders. “You thought I’d be waiting in the wings for you, waiting for you to decide you want me back.”

“That’s not true, Rin,” you sniffle, “I care about you. I always will…”

“I don’t want you to.” he informs you. “You’re—”

“I think you still care about me too…” you interrupt him, looking down at the way he grasps harder onto your wrist as you speak. You look up at him again, his face somehow even closer to yours now. “Y-You can’t just turn feelings off that quick… I—”

“I’ve moved on. You’re moving on.” he tells you. “Fuck everyone here for all I care, princess.”

“Rinnie…” a tear silently rolls down your cheek as he calls you a name you never thought you’d hear spill from his lips in reference to you ever again. You can’t help but wonder if he calls his new girlfriend the same sweet names he once called you.

Rin is chillingly composed.

But if only you knew.

He feels a lump in his throat as he replays the way you said Rinnie to him, a nickname long forgotten since your breakup. A name he’d never allow another soul to call him for the rest of his days. It’s yours, all yours. It wouldn’t sound right coming from anyone else, he can’t imagine feeling anything but disdain hearing it from another.

You melt into his touch as he cups your face with his free hand, his thumb swiping at the spilled tear glimmering against your cheek. He looks down at you with a heavy-lidded stare, and you want him.

You miss him.

Especially like this.

His eyes so tired and heavy as he gives into his lust and claims you. Your eyes close completely as you feel his head tilt.

He does still care about you.

He’s going to kiss you. He’s going to cheat on his girlfriend for you. You weren’t far off on your suspicions, after all. He still cares. He might even still love you. You’re too drunk and delirious, though. Your eyes are closed and awaiting his kiss. His are barely open, lazily gazing at you knowing he isn’t about to give you what you so desperately crave.

“Goodnight, princess.” he whispers, the bitter scent of alcohol dusting across your face as he breathes.

You pull away, slowly, horrified that you’ve been denied of a simple kiss twice in one excruciating day. Your wrist is free, now. And he watches as you back away from him. He feels a little bad, but not much. He’s sure you’re only feeling a fraction of the pain and humiliation you put him through when you ended things.

He’s sure you can handle a little rejection.

“Goodnight, Rinnie.” you sniff, walking away calmly until you’re through his room and heading to your own.

You think about telling Chigiri. You even start walking down the stairs so you can cry on his shoulder. But you see him with the boys. His smile is so wide, and he looks really happy. You don’t want to ruin his night, too.

Eita looks up at you, though you don’t catch him looking. You’re too focused on yourself and Chigiri. You don’t notice him follow you as you ascend the stairs. He waits outside of your room as you decide you ought to go to bed.

You don’t even have the energy to take off your makeup or your dress. All you can do is shake your feet until your shoes fly off in different directions. Your body breaks out in goosebumps when you hear a soft knock at the door, and you can only hope your disappointment isn’t obvious when you realise it isn’t Rin coming to talk to you some more.

Eita holds up a joint, offering it to you.

You’re pretty much sober, now.

You’re surprised you haven’t burst into tears, too. So, you nod. You accept his offer, gratefully, hoping you’ll slip off into a blissful sleep once you finish smoking. Eita closes the door behind him, locking it so you won’t be disturbed as he sits on the bed beside you.

© 2023 rinhaler

[drdemonprince]

I was in the car with a new friend recently and he was fuming about stress at work, and his rent going up, and I was sympathetic and bummed for him, and then he started yelling about traffic and freaking out any time a car took more than a millisecond to get moving and it freaked me out and I fell silent. I guess he could sense the energy changing in the air.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Am I bothering you?"

"It's okay," I said instinctively, unconvincingly, trying to convince myself to get over it, to not make him feel bad, to not make things about my feelings. I searched for a justification as to why my reaction was wrong. "I guess I forget what it's like to drive a car."

I used to get screamed at for moving too slowly. I exasperated my parents taking so long finding the momentum to get up and do things. I was spacey. Everything was always happening so quick. Where I wanted to put my attention was never where the world wanted me to. They needed me to care about car routes and traffic and appointment times instead of smooth pebbles on the sidewalk or birds. And my dad was always so furious in the car. Certain he was the authority on what made a good driver and that everyone else was not up to his standards. Ranting and yelling and flipping out so badly it made me cry and then put on a big smile to reassure him. I almost gave up learning to drive as a teen because my slow, plunking movements and insecurity on the road sent him into such a rage.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin the evening," my friend said.

"You didn't," I reassured him.

I didn't want him to think I had a problem with him complaining about his life. That is what friends are for. It was the road rage that touched an unaged part of me, and brough that part forward so strongly I couldn't hide it. I couldn't fix my face. I almost started to cry.

It was the first time in a very long time that I've been well and truly triggered. Certain experiences in the present can make old parts of me reverberate; there's a ringing that you get inside when someone's shampoo smells like a bad old boyfriend or somebody touches you the wrong way without meaning to and you briefly go a little dead. That's manageable. It's a useful cue that something needs to change quickly before you freak out. I thank those triggers for existing. But this one. It caused an actual emotional phase shift straight to the past. Freeze up and then fawn it off, play along, make up for your own reaction.

It's crazy how unsafe I genuinely felt for a moment! And I tend to critique people who abuse the language of "feeling unsafe" for manipulative and white supremacist ends, so it is useful for me to get that reminder of just how reality-bending an acute state of triggeredness is. I tell people to use their words and regulate their distress and there I was, unable to.

I had forgotten one of the major reasons that I hate cars! That is how long I have been away from my dad and car-dependent culture and intense, mean impatience. I have made a lot of the right choices to protect me over the years, or else this upset would not be so unfamiliar.

[writerslittlelibrary]

how aboutttt

recently rescued ex-hydra!teen!reader has a pretty bad nightmare and goes to natasha for comfort ⁉️

Can I stay with you tonight? 

masterlist requests masterlist

summary: after you were rescued from Hydra by the Avengers, you had been living with them. however, a change of scenery doesn't mean you forget everything that's ever happened to you…

pairing: Natasha x teen reader

warnings: mentions of abuse?

genre: fluff, (angst?)

words: 1116

a/n: this one is kinda short, so I apologize, but I loved this request, and I hope I did alright!

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

Your breath was heavy as you ran as fast as your little legs would take you. You could hear the soldiers screaming, trying to find you as you heard the barlings dogs drawing closer. You ran through the snow, pushing the branches out of your way as you tried to get as far away from the Hydra base as possible.

The sound of the soldiers seemed to fade, and you had hope you finally lost them.

That hope was quickly forgotten as you fell face first into the snow, a dog biting your arm as it kept you down. The dog had jumped you from the side, pushing you to the ground and easily standing on top of you, biting and scratching as you felt the blood starting to pour-

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

You woke up gasping, sweat on your forehead as you reached for your arm, running your fingers over the permanent scar adorning it, the only proof remaining of what had happened that night.

When you reached your hands up, you felt your cheeks were wet. You must've cried at some point during the night. You were heaving, trying to keep in the sobs as you realized what you had dreamt about. You were so close to escaping that night.

It didn't take long until the tears were streaming again, sobs wrecking through your whole body as you folded your arms over your stomach, almost hugging yourself.

That night was one of many you wished you could forget.

Natasha had asked you about it. Ever since coming to the Avengers tower, she'd ask you every now and then how you were doing, and if you were experiencing any nightmares. She'd tell you it was normal, and that her and Bucky often got nightmares after they were first rescued. You'd shrug her off and deny it, not wanting to talk to anyone about the horrors you had been through, and the horrors you were forced to put others through.

Natasha was persistent, however, and even after many times of denying it, she never believed you. 

That's how she knew you were in distress once again tonight. She had Friday alert her every time you were distressed. She was worried about you, of course, but she knew what a person could do after being freed from such a horrible life. She knew better than any other, having been through it herself, and she was afraid you might try to hurt yourself.

Usually, she didn't want to bother you, knowing you liked to keep to yourself, and she was afraid that if she'd push your personal space, you'd just push her further away.

However, tonight Friday alerted her you were much more distressed than usual, and it scared Natasha. What if you'd have to cry alone in your room, covering your sobs and trying to keep quiet because you were afraid someone would notice, and would get mad. What if you'd try to be fine and strong, and only fall apart when you were alone, just like she did…

And so, Natasha set a course for your room, bringing a stuffed animal with her she had bought for you. She knew you were a teenager, of course, but she also knew you had never owned anything a normal child would own, and she wanted to help you heal from that trauma.

When she reached your room, she hesitated for a moment, not knowing if walking in, or knocking, would be the best approach. What if you'd feel caught? What if you'd think Natasha was there to hurt you for showing weakness?

Natasha settled just walking in was the best approach. That way you wouldn't have time to try and hide your sadness.

And so, Natasha opened the door, her heart breaking when she saw the little human ball on the bed. You were hunched over, your knees to your chest and your arms hugging them. Natasha didn't miss the way your breath hitched when you heard the door open and close.

Natasha walked to your bed carefully but quickly. She wanted to comfort you without giving you much time to think about it.

She sat down on the bed, keeping her distance from you, not wanting to scare you but wanting to let you know she was there. You didn't dare look at her, and Natasha was unsure of what to do next.

"Do you want to talk about it?” she asked softly, and you shook your head. “No one is going to be mad at you for being upset, okay?” she continued, and you didn't give her a response. " I brought you something…” Natasha then said, placing the stuffed animal she brought on the bed next to you.

You looked at it carefully, staring at Natasha with big, watery eyes as she gave you an encouraging nod, urging you to take it.

Your movement was quick as you reached for it, clutching the stuffed animal to your chest, hugging it tightly. It was then Natasha noticed the reddened scars on your arm, indicating you must've scratched at the already existing scars.

Natasha shuffled a little closer, careful not to invade your space too much.

"Can I see that?” she then asked, motioning her hand towards your scar. You shook Your head and pulled your arm away, turning slightly so your back was now facing Natasha.

"I just wanna help you, I promise,”  Natasha pushed, and she shuffled closer again, now almost sitting next to you. You were still sniffling softly, and Natasha knew you were still terrified from whatever Nightmare you had.

Carefully, Natasha placed her arm around you and lightly pulled you into her chest. It didn't take long before you broke down, letting yourself fall onto Natasha as she rubbed your back, comforting you the best she could.

"It's gonna be okay…” Natasha tried reassuring you, but your sobs just grew.  

"The dogs…” you sobbed. "The dogs got me. They bit me and pulled me down when I tried to run away when I was seven…” you cried out, and Natasha shushed you as she hugged you closer.

"It's okay, you are safe now. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you ever again, I promise,” Natasha reassured, and you hugged her closer.

"Please don't leave me alone,” you cried out, and Natasha pulled you closer. " I'm never leaving you alone, y/n,” she promised, as she made a move to lie down on the bed, pulling you to lay on her chest. 

"Try to get some sleep. I'm here, I'll protect you,” Natasha said as she stroked your back, feeling your breathing slowly even out, the stuffed animal still tight to your chest.

" I'll always protect you…”

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @daddyshuri

[kimetsu-chan]

The Painter and the Muse

A/N: dude I love torturing Dazai sometimes, he’s not tragic enough in my eyes. This was heavily inspired by this headcanon/drabble I wrote, and this art by @drlqra (title was also inspired by their work, go check it out, its freaking awesome) (Some parts might not be accurate to canon, and I apologize for that)

TWs⚠️: mentions of death, panic attack(?), lmk if I missed anything^^

Dazai wasn’t quite sure when it started, but the sense of disarray had begun to overtake and cloud his mind. At first, he believed it was because he didn’t think he deserved the job Taneda offered him. Him? Working as a detective? After all the things he’d done?

But as time went on and as Dazai lived under the radar for longer and longer, he realized it was something entirely different. The feeling of something being so vastly wrong persisted, even when he grew accustomed to the idea of working in the light.

It didn’t strike Dazai that Oda could be the center of this… wrongness, that he could be the cause of Dazai’s distress.

It didn't hit him. Until it did, like a brick. He had been lying on his motel bed with his head hanging off the side, staring at Oda’s coat that was hanging off the back of a chair when it did.

What… did Oda even look like?

The revelation that he couldn’t even recall the face of his best friend, the man he was doing this all for, made him startle, and badly at that. He felt the hair on his arms begin to rise as he stared blankly at the coat. He didn’t feel like he could move; he couldn’t think, which scared him. He relied so heavily on his brain that the moment he couldn’t properly use it anymore, he quickly spiraled into panic.

And boy, was this one of the worst panic attacks he’s had in a while. Wh—how could he forget what Oda looked like?! How could he let that happen!?

Dazai hastily sprung up from his position and desperately reached for Oda’s coat. He felt like he had just committed the worst crime in existence, and maybe it was to Dazai. In his panicked daze, he wanted nothing more than to see Oda again. Not only because he missed him so terribly, but to reassure himself that he could remember his face.

The distraught boy draped the beige coat over his shoulders and hugged it so very tightly to his body as he moved to ball himself up in the nearest corner.

He bounced his leg rapidly, but the stimulation did nothing to calm his increasingly disturbed mind. Oh god, oh why, why why why? He didn’t even have the pictures they took in the bar the last time he, Oda, and Ango were together as friends; why didn’t he push to keep at least one?!

Dazai stared blankly and silently at the floor, trying to process why exactly he could remember. Oh, he hated this so much; he didn’t want to forget him.

Not for the first time, he wanted Oda back. He wanted him to tell Dazai it was okay and that he wouldn't be mad if he couldn’t remember him. But no, Oda was dead, and Dazai would never get his reassurances again.

Dazai wanted to snap out of it; the logical part of his brain was screaming at him to get a grip already. But the emotional part, which he’d worked so hard to tame, just ran rampant. Dazai couldn’t explain how much this hurt him; it destroyed him, like he was being eaten alive from the inside out.

He felt like this was the worst punishment he could have been given for all his wrongdoings, and maybe he deserved it. But wasn’t this too cruel a consequence? Even for him…?

He knew that, logically, there had to be some sort of solution; there just had to be, but finding a solution felt impossible for his overwhelmed mind.

He gave the idea of trying for a fix to his problem another go once he had regained control over his panic and had calmed down. He wracked his brain, frantically trying to think of anything. He couldn’t do photography, because, again, Oda wasn’t here, and he refused to go to Ango for the pictures. He’d live for the rest of time before he asked for anything from that man.

What solutions did that leave him, really? He couldn’t ask if anyone knew him, being a mafia member, Oda’s identify would be unknown to almost everyone.

So that left one last option. Art. Music, drawing, anything in the genre. But painting stood out the most to him, because paintings were always beautiful. And if he could preserve Oda in beauty, he’d be happy.

See, the problem wasn’t that Dazai forgot every single aspect of Oda’s appearance, it was that he couldn’t piece the individual features together.

He remembers the exact shade of auburn Oda’s hair was, he could picture every eyelash on his eye, but together it felt like a giant mess of blurred colors and shapes.

So maybe, just maybe, he could figure out how to perfectly paint his dear friend’s features, and figure out how to put the pieces together like a puzzle.

He needed to remember again, it’d kill him if he didn’t. He would do anything to remember. He spent the little money he had on canvases, paintbrushes, and paints of the highest quality he could afford. Anything he couldn’t afford, he just stole.

He was going to perfect the art of painting Oda to preserve his memory, and perfect it he did.

Atsushi thought it was odd, it perplexed him. Dazai didn’t seem to be the type of person to enjoy painting of all hobbies. Sure, he saw mini canvas with sceneries that held more than twice the effort than Dazai put into his work, but painting seemed like something so much tamer that he’d envision Dazai doing?

Well, at least Dazai enjoyed it. Or, he seemed to, at least.

Atsushi had only been to Dazai’s apartment a handful of times, and to say it was cluttered was an understatement. Not only was it filled with empty bottles of alcohol and canned crab, the entirety of one corner of Dazai’s room was absolutely littered with paint and artistic mediums alike.

Paint, brushes, pencils, charcoal, pastels, you name it.

But what far outnumbered any other item in the cramped room were canvases. Filled canvases, of the same person, over and over again.

Atsushi often wondered who that person was, what the name of the gentle looking muse that filled every inch of Dazai’s small, artistic space was. Whenever he asked, Dazai would gush about the paintings, but would never once identify the strange man. Atsushi figured it to be a touchy subject, so he eventually stopped asking.

It wasn’t until he found Dazai at a grave, sketching out a new painting of the same figure, that he realized the connection.

Maybe, painting would be good for Dazai.

If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging! It helps in reaching a larger audience^^

Taglist 🏷️: @larz-barz @mooechi @saffron0v0 @zenitsustherapist @gyutarowritings

@muichirolover14 @midnightmah07

[delimeful]

the end of being alone (6)

remember how this installment was mostly fluff up until this point? we'll get back to that! 

... just not this chapter <3

part 2: how does a kid end up stranded in space, anyhow?

warnings: bad self care, illness, panic, child in distress, minor injury, non-consensual drug use, trafficking, unethical imprisonment and treatment of prisoners, child endangerment, implied offscreen minor character death, ambiguous character fates, this is a heavy tearjerker chapter but it does have a hopeful ending, lmk if i missed any

-

Virgil’s condition hadn’t improved.

They’d tried as many non-medicinal techniques as they could, struggling to figure out what would help and what would harm an unpredictable biological system that they barely understood.

Nothing had helped. Nothing was working.

And each time Virgil woke up to the sight of the ship around him, he wept and struggled and shouted, burning through his meager energy and only worsening his health.

He didn’t respond to heartfelt pleas from any of them, rarely even seeming to understand they were in the room with him. His stare was distant and terrified, his mind somewhere else, and each time it happened, Logan wanted to understand how to help so badly.

So, after several cycles without sleep and with the pressure of increasing desperation weighing heavy on his head, he finally succumbed to the deeply unwise impulse to start a Vidi.

He’d only wanted to understand what Virgil was yelling, try and grasp the reason behind his fear in the hopes that they could abate it, even slightly.

The moment he’d made contact, however, his mind had been dragged into a memory with intense force, the metaphorical handles of the Vidi ripped away, leaving him unable to steer and barely able to move.

His fingers twitched with the urge to pull away, but he stopped himself. It could hurt Virgil, and he’d endured plenty of traumatic memories before. He could handle this.

With a blink, he was looking through a much younger set of eyes.

—

The ship came during the summer.

Virgil remembered, because he’d been reviewing holidays and important events with his class before the break, and his half-birthday was coming up in a week!

His birthday was in winter, so his half birthday was in the opposite season, summer! He’d said as much before trying to debate his way into a trip to the park with his friends, and failing miserably.

So, he’d snuck out. And gotten himself lost between one turn of the neighborhood and the next.

He’d run into one of his neighbors, who’d been more than a little concerned to see him wandering around alone, especially because there had apparently been some people disappearing lately.

“Where did they go?” he’d asked, and gotten an uncomfortable reassurance, which definitely wasn’t an answer.

He’d frowned, tried to ask again, but his neighbor had gone quiet and grey-faced, staring at something over his shoulder. Before he could turn to see, there was a sharp thunk, and a bright bolt of pain in his shoulder.

There was a high, crackling scream, which was bad, but Virgil couldn’t keep his eyes open long enough to figure out where it came from. A pair of warm hands caught him when he staggered, and then he was out.

He barely recalled what happened next, the memories fragmented like someone had taken a hammer to them. He didn’t want to think about them, but he kept the pieces close and tucked away anyhow, knowing they were important even though they hurt.

He felt flickers of awareness, the sensation of eyes rolling against heavy eyelids, a rapid pulse pounding away in his ears like a big drum, angry and fearful shouting barely audible beyond the clamor.

And then: the barest glimpse of the docking port of a ship from the inside, the entrance ramp folding up and sealing away the green trees and blue sky on the other side. Replacing the brief vision of home with cold metal and unearthly lights.

There weren’t any warm hands holding him, now.

His whimper turned nearly soundless on the way up his throat, but it drew the attention of his captors regardless.

A rush of unfamiliar language above him, another flood of numbness spreading through him, but even from that one fragmented moment, Virgil understood that they were taking him away.

Another blank period, like dipping one's head briefly underwater, and then he was waking up again.

“Easy, baby,” a familiar voice said, a hand stroking through his hair, slow and gentle. “You’re okay, you’re alright.”

“Miss Susan?” Virgil asked, and his voice came out small and crackling. He coughed, trying to force his crusted over eyelashes apart with a growing sense of panic.

“Hey, I need some water for the kid!” Miss Susan called lowly, before setting a hand against his back and helping him shuffle upright. “Take it slow, baby, don’t choke. There we go.”

Virgil opened his eyes and got his first look at the room he’d be stuck in for the next several months.

It was dimly lit, and smelled bad. The floor was metal, with a few thin stripes of grating, like a shower drain. The walls were made of tinted plastic and covered with sharp-edged wire netting, and there were a whole bunch of people inside with him and Miss Susan.

They all spoke to him at one point or another, but he only remembered some of their names. The thought made his stomach twist painfully, and he clamped down on the sensation.

He couldn’t be sick. Being sick was bad.

The time shifted, Miss Susan still at his side but her hair longer and her skin sallower. They were all seated, tired from the cold and the dark and the gross food that he wasn’t allowed to throw up.

Mister Ben was coughing, hard and rasping and wet, one after another. A few people were crouched near him, talking to him in hushed voices as they tried to coax him into stopping, but his body curled in and convulsed like he couldn’t control the coughs at all.

Before long, there was a clang, and a spraying sound like that time a fire hydrant down the road had been busted open. A few people stood between the door and Mister Ben, but the room grew more and more hazy with the thick air that made his legs go all numb, and they were swaying with the effort of staying upright.

Virgil knew by now what happened next. He turned and pressed his face against Miss Susan’s side, and she drew him close and held him tightly as the suits came in.

The aliens were always wearing them when they came into sight. Thick rubbery suits with dark-tinted visors, each with an electric zapper in hand. They’d drag the sick one out, and Virgil would never see them again.

“Leave him alone!” Miss Susan cried, joined by the rising voices of the rest of their roommates. “Don’t touch him, you leave him the fuck alone!”

Virgil kept not looking, but he said it too, into the worn fabric of Miss Susan’s blouse. “Leave him alone, don’t touch him, leave him alone, don’t touch him, leave him alone…,”

It didn’t work. It never did. The aliens didn’t listen to them, and they made them weak and floaty if they tried to intervene.

His voice cracked as he kept repeating it, even as the door clanged again and the hiss of air stopped. If he didn’t look up, he could pretend that Mister Ben was still there, only quiet because he was all better from his cough.

"It's okay. I know. It's alright, honey." Miss Susan’s hands shook as they stroked carefully through his hair, soothing him to sleep through the last of his hiccuped sobs.

Everyone who spoke to him was kind, even when they were unhappy. When Miss Susan slept but he was awake, Mister Aaron would invent word games to play or Miss Kelsey would challenge him to push up contests, and they would all take turns trying to think of the worst possible combinations of foods to compare to their mush food.

The best was Miss Susan, though. When he was bored, she would tell him stories about her nieces and nephews, and the farm she grew up on, and silly people at her job before they got taken. When he couldn’t sleep, she would hum whichever parts of lullabies she could remember.

Even when he got sad and didn’t want to move or talk at all, she would hold him close and poke at his side and gasp about seeing the firefly that had snuck onboard with them, until he had no choice but to wiggle free and inspect every corner for its light.

The other adults would spot it every once in a while, too, and try to point it out to him. He never saw it, which he would report back to Miss Susan every time.

“Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there,” she’d tell him, waving at the dark ceiling of the room. “Glowbugs can’t be bright all the time.”

“Why not?”

“Well, they’d get too hot and sweaty. They’d have to go swim in the ocean, and then they’d probably all turn into anglerfish,” Miss Susan said, even though she hadn’t known what an anglerfish was until Virgil had told her everything he could remember about them.

“No way,” he said, laughing despite himself. “Bugs can’t turn into fish!”

“Maybe they just get too tired, then,” Miss Susan said, ruffling his hair. “It must be exhausting, being so bright.”

She went quiet for a moment, and Virgil leaned into her touch, squinting at the dark corners and willing the bug to show itself.

“Even when they’re blending in with the dark, though, they’re still there,” Miss Susan finally continued. “So don’t give up. You’ve just gotta trust in it, and eventually, you’ll spot it.”

“I want eventually to be now,” Virgil had responded, petulant as he flopped against her side, eyes growing heavy.

Miss Susan pet his head, humming quietly until he was almost asleep. She let out a big sigh, and when she spoke, her voice was quiet. “You and me both, kid.”

And then it was the last day.

He knew because Miss Susan’s hands were carefully cupping his face, coaxing him into waking up with a careful tap to the nose. They never woke him up on purpose, because 'growing kids needed their rest', except for the last day.

Virgil felt his brow scrunch with confusion even before his eyelids started fluttering, and Miss Susan chuckled and pressed her lips to the crown of his head for a moment.

“Come on, baby, wake up. It’s important, okay?”

He forced himself to open his eyes and keep them open, a little unease running down his spine.

Everyone had been scared, lately. Their group had shrunk in number, their room had been moved onto a bigger ship, and there were distant sounds of crowds at all hours, making his skin prickle with nerves when he was trying to sleep.

Some of their roommates were really smart, and they’d started puzzling out the words of the alien language from the ship directions that were given over the intercom and the overheard conversations of those passing by or rudely peeking in at them.

They’d taught Virgil some of them, whenever he was awake enough to remember. The words they whispered now weren’t ones he’d learned yet, though.

‘Transfer’ and ‘auction’. Everyone disliked them, felt too upset or angry about them to explain, even Miss Susan. Or maybe they just didn’t want to explain them to him, like they wouldn’t tell him what the aliens did with people when they got taken away. There had been a lot of arguing and shouting in low voices, trying to keep him from overhearing.

But now, they were waking him up.

Virgil let himself be coaxed to his feet, following Miss Susan over to the corner where everyone stood in a huddle, the tallest of them on the outside.

“Okay, sweetie. I need you to listen to me very closely, alright?” she told him, turning him to face the corner where they usually kept extra clothes in a pile. “You’re going to have to be very brave for me, okay?”

The clothes had been moved. There was a hole in the wall, where the netting had been peeled back. The edges of it were rough and curved like they’d been made with fingernails, like it had been painstakingly carved through one scratch at a time.

It was a small hole, barely the size of a vent, or a cat flap. Virgil could probably fit through it, but he was the only one.

“No,” Virgil shook his head immediately. “I don’t want to! I’m scared.”

Miss Susan squatted to be level with him, holding his hand in hers. “I know, honey. But it’s important, okay? We’re going to get out and find you, but you have to go first and stay safe until we do. I’ll send our little glowbug with you, and it’ll light the way in the dark.”

“What about your dark?” Virgil asked, rubbing harshly at his stinging eyes.

Miss Susan softened, pulled his hand away and smoothed a thumb over his cheekbone. “Oh, baby. I’ve seen that glowbug a hundred times, here with you. I’ll be okay without it for a little while.”

Virgil turned to look at the hole again, imagining a little firefly crawling through with him so he wouldn’t be alone.

“Do you promise?” he asked, and Miss Susan pulled him into a hug so tight, it felt like it squished all the air from him.

“I promise,” she said, and her hands shook a little but her voice was steady. Virgil smushed his face against her shoulder for the last time.

“Okay. I’ll— I’ll go.”

The barrier of bodies around them seemed to relax, just slightly, though it still took Miss Susan a few moments longer to release him.

They told him everything he needed to know, everyone chiming in. That he had to run, as fast and as far as he could, and be sneaky and quiet when he was too tired to run. That he should find hiding places and hole up in them, wait until nobody was around to keep running.

That he should always hide from aliens, even if they weren't wearing the suits. That he should never let them see him, because they hated humans. That if they did grab him, he could do whatever he needed to do to get away.

“Just like stranger danger, right, buddy? You can bite, kick, scream, whatever you need to do.”

Virgil nodded, trying to push down the sick, stressed feeling in his gut, and when there was finally no advice left to give, he turned to the gash in the wall.

Wiggling through it was hard, because there were still sharp, poky bits that scratched at his skin and the inside of the wall was dark and stifling, but every time he wanted to stop, he could hear the encouragement of everyone else, who was still stuck inside.

There was a little bug with him, he reminded himself. If he closed his eyes and froze up, he wouldn’t ever be able to see it glow.

Finally, he squirmed free of the last few inches, dropping onto the floor of a very small dark room with shelves in it, like a linen closet. He turned back to face the hole, calling out, and Miss Susan reached an arm through.

He grabbed for her hand and pressed his face to it, clung to her for a long moment, his breaths stuttering as she cradled him the best she could.

There was a muffled clang, and Miss Susan ran her wavering thumb over his cheekbone one more time before pulling away.

“Run, Virgil. Now. Run!”

So he did.

He ran and hid, just like they told him, but he picked the wrong place to hide because it was part of another ship, and it took him far away. He kept running, pulled himself into tiny little nooks on spaceship after spaceship, snuck food wherever he could get it and only ever whispered to his invisible firefly.

Eventually, he left a ship and there were no other ships around to board, only the wide landscape of a different planet, full of weird trees and weird animals and a weird town that he fled from. No more ships came, and that was fine because he didn’t want to run anymore. He wanted to stay and wait for them to find him.

He laid on his back and faced the sky, searching for a sign that they were coming. He was hungry and tired and lonely.

The stars above looked just like fireflies, hundreds of them. Enough for all of them to watch together. Except there wasn’t a ‘them’. It was only him.

Virgil felt his face growing hot, his throat closing up at the thought. It was too frightening to be alone.

No, he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t. He had their firefly with him, somewhere next to him in the grass.

“Just because I can’t see them, doesn’t mean they’re not there,” Virgil said to himself sternly, and rolled back to his feet.

He would find something to eat, somewhere to sleep, and he would wait. They would find him. They would find him. They would…

—

When Logan finally eased the mental connection closed and pulled himself free, he found there was a low, buzzing keen building in the back of his throat. The sort of sound he hadn’t made since he himself was a child.

Virgil still lay there unconscious, but his cheeks were shiny and damp with tears. Logan reached out, ignoring the heat radiating from the pupa’s skin, and gently smoothed a narrow finger over his cheek, wiping the wetness away as best he could.

It didn’t do much, but the crinkle in Virgil’s brow seemed to ease just slightly at the sensation.

Roman paced by again, pausing at the sight. “Specs? Is the kid alright? …Are you alright?”

Logan wondered what Roman would think about the fact that Humans and Crav’n had more in common culturally than he would have ever guessed. That an entire group of Humans had given up their only boon for the slim chance of getting the only child present to safety.

No time to waste, now. That conversation would have to wait until they’d launched.

“Let Patton know we’re leaving, and meet me in the navigation area,” he instructed, already turning to leave. “I’m going to clear our landing area for departure.”

“What— I thought we agreed it was a bad idea to actually leave?” Roman asked, glancing between Logan and Virgil with visible worry.

“It’s a worse idea to sit here and wait,” he replied firmly, and then he was down the hall and out the hanger door, ignoring the shiver of secondhand trepidation that Virgil’s mind had left in his.

He circled the ship, placing the warding discs that would keep their launch area organism-free down one by one, and then paused at the sight of a familiar creature standing by the main entrance hatch.

It was a Humlilt, one with a distinct little white splotch on its head. Logan was fairly certain that it was the one who had stood between them and Virgil during their second meeting, the most loyal of the bunch, only proved further by the way it had been waiting outside the ship since Virgil had been taken aboard.

Logan was also fairly certain that Virgil had named this one Susan, after his neighbor. The Human who’d taken care of him, in those memories.

“You’ve taken care of him, too, haven’t you?” he asked, still far too affected by the painful sympathy that had washed over him post-Vidi.

The Humlilt stamped a hoof and trumpeted at him warningly as he neared, still obviously holding a grudge at them for stealing Virgil away.

Logan attempted to rationalize himself out of the decision he was about to make, and utterly failed.

—

It took some digging and reaching out to a few of Logan’s less savory contacts, but the ship was on its way to a waypoint station that was rumored to have a Human expert in residence. It could have been a trap, a lie meant to lure interested parties into an attack, but they were going to have to risk it.

The three of them had all agreed to the plan. They wouldn’t be able to live with themselves otherwise.

Now that they were in transit, Logan sat down with his two closest friends, and began to explain just what he’d learned about their kid.

A few rooms down in the medical bay, a half-conscious Human reached out a feverish hand and found a small, fluffy presence curled up at his side.

The Humlilt crooned a few notes, sounding just like the aimless lullabies its namesake used to hum.

For the first time since boarding the ship, Virgil breathed a little easier.

[1d1195]

Traditional Extra IV

Read Traditional here

A little on the shorter side.

I love to make Harry whiny.

Warnings: angst, fluff, nothing particularly special about this one.

~2k words

"Baby, come on. You’re scaring me,” she said gently. He wanted to throw something. Everything was making him mad; he felt the ache all the way to his bones.

“Y’can’t fix this,” he muttered bitterly.

It was quarter past one. Which meant that she was set to walk into Harry’s office with his cup of tea in her hand. Even though it had been more than a year since her hot beverage accident, she was extremely mindful of turning corners with something that could scald her in her hands. The idea that Harry might fire someone because she was accidentally injured was too much for her to bear. She had her phone pressed between her shoulder and ear. Her cold coffee was in the crook of her arm as she reached for his door.

But instead, all sound stopped at the noise behind it. People paused in their path to the breakroom, the conference room, or back to their offices. The sound of Harry screaming nearly echoed as she looked at the wooden door separating her and her very obvious, very angry boyfriend.

“God bless her,” someone murmured.

“Don’t think I could do it. No matter how cute he is,” she heard another voice whisper. She wondered if she knew they were loud enough for her to hear. Or maybe with the phone pressed to her ear, they didn’t think she was paying attention.

“I’m sorry, I will call you back in half an hour,” she said softly to the phone. There was a response, but she didn’t hear it as she hung up. Niall was back in their office. Probably already looking to solve whatever issue had Harry breaking the sound barrier. Or maybe he was lucky and in another meeting. Maybe this wouldn’t be his problem. But it was definitely going to be part of her problem.

Harry didn’t scare her for the sake of her well-being. She never worried about her safety or whether Harry would harm her in a fit of whatever was causing him distress. The only alarm Harry caused her was the worry that he was going to have an untimely heart attack at such a young age due to his distress. More so, she worried one of these days she wouldn’t be able to fix his problems.

Or that he wouldn’t want her to. One day Harry was going to yell at her. Not purposefully. Not because he was mad at her. But he was going to take his frustration out on her. It was a matter of when not if. Maybe today would be the day.

Turning the knob, she heard everyone behind her collectively hold their breath. They knew she would fix it... probably. She entered slowly, like it was a lion’s den, and she didn’t want to be seen just yet. She closed the door quietly, with a soft click.

Harry was leaning over his empty desk. His computer, his phone, the picture frame with a picture of them from her graduation, all of it was laying shattered and broken to pieces on the floor across the room. His breath was practically panting. She watched him for a few moments: his shoulders rising and falling quickly and dramatically.

Whatever happened obviously made him mad. When Harry was mad, she felt the creeping sense of worry that he would work himself up to a point he couldn’t come back down from and again, worried about his health.

“Harry, baby?” She asked softly after a moment.

“Get. Out.” He seethed. She felt like a knife had been twisted into her heart and she felt like she would cry. Harry never told her to leave or accidentally yelled at her without a pet name attached to it.

He was definitely going to ruin their day. He was going to take out his frustration on her. Today was sure to be the day. She stood silently by the door. Afraid to take another step or make another noise. He still hadn’t turned around. She could see he was still shaking from across the room. Her heart felt so heavy for his worry and discomfort of whatever was hurting him.

In an instant, his cell phone was pressed to his ear. “What?” He snapped. Harry listened for all of twenty seconds before his phone was added to the pile of debris. He took three strides behind his desk and threw his chair toward the rest of his office supplies as well. A hole appeared in the drywall.

That was too much for her. She had to intervene. She was worried he was going to hurt himself at any moment. Swiftly and silently, she made her way to the couch, setting the drinks on the side table before she hurried to Harry’s side before he tried to tip his desk over or something. “Harry,” she whispered softly. He flinched at her touch, yanking from her so violently it almost looked like he smacked her hands away. She blinked in surprise and tried again anyway. “Baby,” her voice was firmer. She pressed her hands on his forearms. He looked at her, still seething with rage. She could see sweat forming at his hairline. Darkening his chocolate curls. His face was flushed red, his arms were clammy to the touch even through his shirt.

“I told you t’get out,” he snapped at her; it was like he wasn’t seeing that it was her.

She nodded understandingly. “I know,” she whispered in agreement. “I know,” she tugged him toward the couch. Despite how angry he was, he let her lead him. Harry stood in front of the sofa still shaking and she paid no mind to it. She pressed him back, so his legs touched the furniture and he had no choice but to sit. She crouched in front of him.

He was intimidating. Even to her, she couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline running through her blood, her heart fluttering nervously that she was going to make matters worse and just upset him more.

But his typically gentle, green eyes turned nearly black—his pupils dilating to fit nearly the entirety of his irises with how angry he felt. His breath was a bit raspy. His muscles were practically rippling as his hands and arms shook. Even just sitting there.

“Baby, come on. You’re scaring me,” she said gently. He wanted to throw something. Everything was making him mad; he felt the ache all the way to his bones. “Put your head between your knees please.”

“Y’can’t fix this,” he muttered bitterly.

“Harry, please just let me try,” she whispered softly. “Just five minutes and then I’ll leave, and you can set the office on fire,” she promised. Harry grunted in response, and she guided his hands behind his head, his elbows rested on his thighs. She rubbed his back soothingly. “Deep breath,” she whispered. He placated her and took a deep breath, but it sounded shallow. “What happened?” She asked softly.

He shook his head. He could feel tears pricking his eyes.

“Harry, baby,” she murmured. “Talk to me, please. Should I get Niall?”

He took another breath. “I lost a client. A huge one. S’going to...” his breath was shaky as he exhaled. “Kitten, s’bad,” he mumbled.

She frowned. “Oh, love,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, so sorry.”

He picked his head up and looked at her. “M’sorry I yelled at you,” he muttered. “I’m...”

She shook her head. “It’s okay, I know it’s not about me.”

“I shouldn’t yell at you. Ever. You only try t’help. Always,” he looked so dejected. “I...I have t’find a new client or I’ll have t’make cuts next quarter.”

“Okay, so we’ll find one,” she whispered.

He wanted to snap but it was his angel touching him so gently. Trying to comfort him as best she could. He couldn’t hear it. He shook his head. “S’not that simple, kitten,” her positivity was admirable, but he was so mad, so sad. This was a huge deal. A huge letdown.

She sat beside him and grabbed his hand. She twined their fingers together and she looked over at the pile he made of all his electronics and the chair. With a squeeze of his hand, she rested her head on his arm. “Whatever it is Harry, I’ll be right beside you,” she promised.

He turned toward her. “Kitten, I might...have t’fire you.”

She felt her heart flutter, but she nodded looking at their hands. “It’s just a job,” she whispered.

“Love...”

“Harry, I have you. A job... at your company.” she shrugged. “It’s just a bonus.”

“I might lose a lot of money.”

“I’m not with you for money,” she promised with a smirk.

He looked at her, his eyes were red around the corners. His face was withdrawn. He was handsome as ever; even as broken as he felt. “You would love me...if I was broke?”

“I would love you even if you didn’t have a porch swing.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “M’so in love with you. So...” he shook his head. “Hopeless for you,” he murmured. “Don’t deserve you,” he mumbled. “You’re too good,” he nosed at her temple. “I’m sorry, kitten.”

She shook her head. “You don’t need to apologize to me.” He looked at her. So sad. Poor thing. Her heart ached to make it better. The first thing she was going to do when she got back to her office was tell Niall as much as she could, and begin searching for a new client. Then probably order Harry new furniture. He stayed silent. His anger settled into sadness. He felt so dejected.

Sighing softly, she cupped his face. He looked so sad. “Do you know you told me you loved me when you were sick?”

He looked up at her curiously. “What?” He momentarily forgot about the turmoil he felt about his company.

“You were delirious,” she smiled. Harry thought she looked like an angel. He swore she had been sculpted by an artist. Even when he felt so terrible, she was just so pretty. It felt like he was healing. “You were falling asleep and just told me you loved me,” she shrugged.

“So y’knew all that time,” he murmured with a smirk toying at his lips. It was weird how he could make him feel better. Even at a time like this.

She nodded excitedly with an impish grin. “Yeah...” she smirked.

“And y’still thought I didn’t love you with m’whole heart after that? That I wouldn’t have...” He rolled his eyes as he trailed off.

She giggled and shrugged. “People can say crazy things when they’re sick.”

He looked at her. “I love you.”

“I’m aware,” she said cutely. If she had a free hand, she would have flipped her hair behind her shoulder. Harry laughed at her, shook his head so his nose bumped hers. “I love you,” she whispered.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his eyes getting this dreamy, far-off look. His chest felt warm. Part of him never wanted to leave this couch. He never wanted to move. The idea of dealing with what was in store for him seemed so bleak.

She was never bleak. She was perfect. She made everything better, even when he didn’t want her to. “I love you,” she repeated effortlessly. “So much. No matter what. No matter how much money you have or how many porch swings you buy me.”

He cupped her face and leaned so his lips just barely brushed hers. “Don’t know how I did this without you before,” he murmured.

“You’ll never have to do it again,” she promised.

Harry was dreading getting a new phone and a new computer, knowing how bad it was about to get. But somehow her ability to worm her way into his heart and his brain made him believe, even for a moment, that it would be okay.

Or maybe it was just the taste of her lips between his that made him believe.

--

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[slytherizz]

~WIP~

Thanks for the tag @kaidynsarell 💚

Dad!Seb Christmas fic which has been sat in WIPs for over a year. (I am aiming to hopefully finish for this year if my job allows me a moment of peace).

rules: share a snippet of a wip, then tag 5 writer friends!

***

Sebastian often wondered what she dreamed about. Each snuffling coo warmed his bare chest. Whisps of dark curly hair now beginning had begun to thicken and curl around her ear. Which he adamantly denied when his wife pointed it out because truthfully he never wanted to imagine she wouldn’t always be this small and bundled in one of what felt like dozens of soft knitted blankets Sweeting had gifted them.

She was not an easy baby. Alice Sallow's first breath was a battle cry. Born stubborn and wailing, challenging the world that now she was here, she would not go quietly. Ominis had asked Sebastian if he was really her father at all and had in fact accidentally swaddled Mandrake by mistake. 

For the first few days, Sebastian did not care how much she screamed. Insisting it was a sign of a strong character. Alice would take life by the horns. A Sallow through and through. 

After weeks with scattered and pitiful hours of stolen sleep between them Sebastian was dangerously strung out. And he wished the horns she would grasp would take the form of six hours of uninterrupted sleep. 

They'd fed her, bathed her, pleaded with her and considering the amount he’d spent on it he was certain the only babies in Britain sleeping in a finer bassinet were muggle royalty. It would not do.

But truely, Alice seemed just as distressed about the lack of suitable sleeping arrangements as her parents. Her cot was too static, her little legs kicking ferociously, unnerved by the offending stillness. The rocking bassinet tipped too far and the motions dizzying and hazardous.

Days pressed into weeks. He and his wife passing ships in the night, sparing the other a quick kiss and a few hours of peace to sleep as they waited for their little girl to wail herself into exhaustion.

Their washing had piled up into a teetering pile in the corner of the bathroom. Dresses, shirts, an endless pile of baby clothes, an old quidditch jersey dragged from the back of the wardrobe in desperation mounting the pile. Sebastian discarded his last shirt so soiled no scourgify charm could fully clean on the pile of mysteriously stained garments he did not have the energy to wash. 

Opened the wardrobe, pulled out all the draws. Empty. Save for a pair of odd socks. The only remaining options at his disposal were his wedding robes or…nothing. 

Tags: @sebastianswallows @writing-intheundercroft @cuffmeinblack @jecksaa @applinsandoranges