#tried looking for eve's but found none

[thechaoscousins]

MATT SMITH photographed by Robert Ascroft

[sonarspace]

˗ˏˋ I’MA CARE FOR YOU, YOU, YOU (T. FUSHIGURO)

꒰ synopsis. what starts as a quiet attempt to keep toji sober on new year’s eve turns into something far more intimate—because for the first time in years, he’s found something worth staying sober for.

warnings. mentions of child abuse (toji’s lip scar), mentions of alcohol abuse. fem!reader. established relationship. nsfw. unprotected sēx, orāl (f! receiving), size kink + more (can’t remember lol).

toji never celebrated his birthday.

december 31st passed like a ghost every year—empty bottles scattered across the floor by the time the sun set, and his phone powered down before midnight could roll around.

but it wasn’t new year’s eve he hated.

it was his birthday. and it was the day he got the scar.

toji was six when the zen’in clan dragged him to the edge of the disciplinary pit. he remembered the cold first—how it bit through the thin fabric of his yukata, numbing his fingers as he tried not to shiver. the reason didn’t matter. maybe he mouthed off. maybe he looked at an elder wrong. maybe they just felt like reminding him of his place.

“a lesson,” they had called it.

when they pushed him in, he landed hard, his lip splitting against the jagged rocks below. the curses that lurked in the pit slithered closer, circling him in the dark. none of them touched him. not even when he lay still, too scared to move, his blood pooling beneath him.

by the time they pulled him out the next morning, the scar had already begun to form.

every year after that, december 31st wasn’t about celebrating life. 

it was about surviving it.

and so he drank. drank until the memory blurred at the edges, until the whiskey burned worse than the scar ever had.

but this year…

this year was different.

because of you.

december 30th

“you’re not drinking that whole bottle tonight.”

your voice was soft but firm, cutting through the low hum of the apartment.

toji didn’t look at you. his gaze stayed fixed on the skyline outside the window, the glass in his hand half-full and swirling with amber light.

“and why not?” he muttered.

“because if you do, you’ll sleep through tomorrow.”

“good.”

you stepped closer, bare feet padding quietly across the floor.

“toji.”

the faint flicker of annoyance in his eyes vanished when you sank onto the couch beside him, your thigh pressing lightly against his. without hesitation, you reached forward and pried the glass from his fingers, setting it on the table.

toji finally glanced at you—sharp, unreadable, but lingering longer than usual.

“you’re bossy,” he murmured, but there was no heat behind it.

“someone has to be.”

silence stretched between you, the distant hum of the city filling the gaps.

then, quietly, you asked, “what is it about tomorrow?”

his thumb traced absent patterns over the scar on his lip, a habit you’d seen before.

“the pit,” he said simply.

the words were rough, rasping against the air like they’d taken effort to drag from his chest.

your heart clenched.

“they threw you in?”

toji’s gaze flickered to the bottle, but he didn’t reach for it. instead, his hand drifted to your thigh, his palm warm even through the fabric of your leggings.

“on my birthday,” he murmured.

you swallowed the lump in your throat, lacing your fingers through his.

“they can’t touch you now,” you whispered.

he huffed, but it wasn’t quite a laugh.

“i don’t need comforting, sweetheart.”

“maybe not,” you replied softly, squeezing his hand, “but you deserve it anyway.”

toji didn’t answer, but the arm around your shoulders tightened slightly, pulling you closer until your head rested against his chest.

the whiskey sat untouched on the table the rest of the night. 

december 31st

toji didn’t expect to wake up to the smell of food.

most mornings, the first thing that greeted him was the stale reminder of unfinished whiskey and the sharp bite of morning light through half-drawn curtains. but today, something softer lingered in the air—cinnamon, maybe, and fresh coffee.

he cracked one eye open, arm thrown lazily over his face as the faint clatter of dishes drifted from the kitchen.

what the hell...

his gaze shifted to the clock beside the bed—9:00 am.

too early.

usually, he’d sleep through the morning. hell, he’d sleep through most of the day if left alone—anything to let december 31st pass by in a blur. but now, curiosity tugged at the edges of his mind.

dragging himself upright, he tugged on the nearest pair of sweats, padding barefoot toward the source of the noise.

there you were.

standing at the stove, swaying faintly to the low hum of music drifting from the speaker, one of his shirts hanging loose over your frame.

toji lingered by the doorway for a second, arms crossing over his bare chest, just watching.

you must’ve felt him staring because you glanced over your shoulder, offering that soft smile that always disarmed him.

“happy birthday.”

toji’s brows lifted, but the warmth pooling low in his stomach was unexpected.

“you’re up early,” he grunted, stepping forward to lean on the counter, arms brushing yours.

“had to make sure you didn’t drink the day away again.”

he huffed, shaking his head. “so you’re babysitting me now?”

“if that’s what it takes,” you teased, plating the pancakes with a little too much pride. “besides, if you hate your birthday so much, i figured we’d just make it a regular day. you know—coffee, pancakes, and some lazy movie marathon or something.”

toji didn’t answer right away. his gaze lingered on you, tracing the soft line of your features as the soft winter light kissed your skin.

normal.

the weight of that word sat heavy in his chest. when was the last time his birthday felt anything close to that?

you slid a plate in front of him, nudging his hand lightly. “eat. you can glare at me later.”

toji snorted but didn’t argue.

-

the sun had long since dipped below the skyline, and the apartment was wrapped in the kind of quiet that only came with late december nights. the tv flickered softly in the corner, casting faint shadows across the room, but the film had faded into background noise hours ago.

the glow from the tv barely lit the room, but it didn’t matter. your focus wasn’t on the screen.

toji’s arm lay heavy across your waist, his thumb brushing idle circles along the curve of your hip as the two of you stretched across the couch.

you nestled closer, your head resting against his chest, listening to the slow, steady beat of his heart.

outside, fireworks crackled faintly in the distance, but the soft weight of his palm sliding up beneath the hem of your shirt was far more distracting.

“countdown’s soon,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

toji’s response was a low hum, his lips pressing lazily against the top of your head.

“hm? you excited?” he teased, palm flattening against the small of your back, his fingers trailing higher.

you smiled, shifting slightly to straddle his lap. the flicker of surprise in his eyes was brief, replaced by that familiar heat as his hands found your waist.

“maybe,” you replied, your lips brushing faintly over his. “you better make a wish.”

toji’s grip tightened, his thumb tracing the soft line of your spine.

“already got what i want,” he said, voice low, thick with something dark and rough-edged.

your lips parted in soft surprise, but before you could speak, his mouth captured yours—slow, deliberate, and impossibly warm.

his kisses trailed lower, each one leaving a path of heat against your skin.

the tv droned quietly in the background, forgotten as toji pulled the oversized shirt—his shirt—over your head, leaving you bare beneath him.

he leaned back just enough to let his gaze rake over you, dark eyes glinting faintly beneath strands of disheveled hair.

“been thinking about this all day,” he admitted, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing lazily over the sensitive peaks.

you arched into his touch, your breath hitching as his mouth followed, closing over one nipple with slow, teasing intent.

his tongue flicked, warm and soft, and when his teeth grazed lightly over the sensitive skin, your fingers instinctively curled into his hair.

“toji—”

“hm?”

he didn’t stop, his palm sliding between your thighs, pressing against the damp heat gathered there.

“fuck,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles over your underwear, feeling how soaked you were.

“you’re already this wet?”

you swallowed hard, tugging at the hem of his sweats, urging him closer.

“just for you,” you whispered, your breath catching as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric, teasing along your folds.

his eyes darkened, and in one slow, fluid motion, he shifted, dragging your underwear down your legs, leaving you completely exposed beneath him.

“better fix that, huh?” he muttered, spreading your thighs wider.

his mouth was hot against you—too hot.

his tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, pressing flat against your clit before flicking up in a way that left you breathless.

toji held you down easily, his grip firm around your thighs as he worked you over like he had all the time in the world.

you gasped, back arching when his fingers pressed inside you, curling just right as his tongue flicked again.

“s’good,” you breathed, tugging at his hair.

he groaned low against you, the vibration sending a sharp jolt through your core.

“fuck, you taste sweet,” he muttered, his voice muffled but thick with need.

his tongue dipped deeper, teasing your entrance before sliding back up to your clit, lapping at you with slow, lazy strokes.

your thighs trembled around his head, but he didn’t stop—not until you were whimpering his name, hips grinding desperately against his mouth.

when you came, it was with a sharp cry, your body tensing beneath him as the pleasure washed over you in waves.

toji didn’t pull away, dragging his tongue through every aftershock, his grip tightening around your hips to hold you still as you squirmed.

“good girl,” he rasped, pressing one last kiss against the inside of your thigh.

by the time he crawled back up over you, his sweats were gone, leaving the full weight of him pressing hot against your slick heat.

his cock, heavy and flushed, dragged through your soaked folds, the tip nudging at your entrance with every teasing roll of his hips.

“toji,” you whispered, the sound barely more than a breath, but the need behind it was unmistakable.

he caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your face to his until your eyes met.

“gonna take my time with you,” he rasped, lips barely skimming over yours. “make sure you feel it all the way into the new year.”

you barely had time to respond before he pushed forward, sinking into you in one long, unrelenting thrust.

the stretch stole your breath, toes curling as he sank in, inch by inch, until there wasn’t a part of you he hadn’t claimed. your nails dug into the hard muscle of his back, legs wrapping tighter around his waist as the slow drag of him against your walls left your head spinning.

"you feel that?" he rasped, his mouth trailing along the line of your jaw, teeth grazing just below your ear. "so fuckin’ tight—like you were made for me."

your only answer was a choked gasp as his hips rocked again, each roll deeper than the last, his cock pressing into that spot inside you that made your vision blur at the edges.

he moved with purpose—deep, measured strokes that left you trembling, each thrust pushing you closer to unraveling.

but soon, it wasn’t enough.

toji growled softly, his grip tightening on your hips as he drove into you harder, the sound of skin meeting skin drowned out by the faint crackle of fireworks outside.

his mouth found your neck, tongue flicking over your pulse before his teeth dragged faintly along the sensitive skin, leaving marks that you knew would linger long after the night faded.

when the clock struck midnight, toji was still buried deep inside you, his body heavy and solid as he pressed you into the mattress.

fireworks exploded outside, muffled cracks echoing through the thin apartment walls, but you barely noticed. not with the way he was moving—deep, slow thrusts that had your legs trembling and your nails digging into the broad expanse of his back.

his cock stretched you perfectly, thick and hot as he filled you to the hilt, the curve of him pressing up against that sensitive spot deep inside with every roll of his hips.

"shit," toji rasped, his breath hot against your ear. "so fuckin’ tight, baby. you feel that?"

you nodded, breathless, but it wasn’t enough for him. one of his hands—rough and calloused—gripped your chin, tilting your face up until your eyes met his.

“tell me,” he growled, his voice low, dangerous. his green eyes were darker now, half-lidded with pleasure, but there was something else burning beneath—something that made your heart race even faster.

“i feel it,” you gasped, barely able to form words with how deep he was. “you’re so—so big, toji.”

his mouth curved into a smirk, his thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip.

“yeah? stretched you open real good, huh?”

your walls fluttered around him at the rasp in his voice, and his smirk only deepened.

“goddamn,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss you again, swallowing the soft whimper that slipped past your lips. his weight pressed you deeper into the mattress, the hard muscle of his chest flush against your tits, but there was a softness to him too—the faint give of his stomach against yours, the comforting warmth of his body that made you feel safe even as he fucked you senseless.

you wrapped your legs around his waist, heels digging into the plush curve of his ass, and toji groaned low in his throat, his pace quickening just enough to make you gasp.

the head of his cock dragged against that sweet spot over and over, pulling breathless little cries from you with each thrust.

“so fuckin’ needy for me,” he murmured, lips ghosting along your jaw. his breath hitched when you clenched around him, the muscles in his thick arms flexing as he held himself above you. “greedy little thing. takin’ all of me so well.”

your head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut as he ground his hips deeper, filling you in a way that made your body arch into him. the stretch was intoxicating, just toeing the line between too much and not enough, but the way he touched you—like you were something precious—made it impossible to stop craving more.

toji pressed his forehead against yours, panting softly as the fireworks outside flared brighter, casting flashes of color across his sweat-damp skin.

“you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he rasped, one of his hands sliding down to grip your thigh, pulling it higher until it rested against his side. the shift let him sink even deeper, and you moaned, head spinning from the sensation.

“so deep,” you whimpered, nails dragging over the broad planes of his back.

“mhm. feel me right there?” his hand pressed flat against your lower stomach, the pressure making you keen beneath him.

“y-yeah,” you stammered, writhing at the added intensity.

the wet, sinful sound of him thrusting into you filled the room, louder than the fireworks now, each snap of his hips pushing you closer to the edge.

and then he shifted again—leaning back, pulling his cock out almost entirely before slamming back into you, the force knocking the air from your lungs.

his lips trailed down the line of your neck, warm and soft as he moved lower, his breath hot against your flushed skin.

“fuck, these tits,” he growled, eyes dark as his large hands cupped them, kneading roughly. your back arched into him, desperate for more, and toji chuckled lowly, pinching your nipples between his fingers until you gasped.

“so soft.”

he wrapped his lips around one nipple, sucking deep and slow, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud in steady strokes that had your head spinning.

“toji—”

he didn’t answer, just groaned against your skin, his teeth grazing faintly over your nipple before he sucked even harder, leaving it swollen and sensitive as his hand squeezed the other roughly.

“could spend hours just like this,” he muttered against you, the vibrations of his voice sending sparks of pleasure straight between your legs.

you squirmed beneath him, hips grinding up against his cock, and toji pulled back just enough to smirk down at you.

“patience, baby,” he teased, giving your tits one last hard squeeze before guiding himself back to your entrance.

the tip of his cock slid against your soaked folds, teasing, before he sank back in, slow and steady, until he bottomed out with a deep groan.

for a long moment, the only sounds were the ragged breaths you shared as you both let go and the distant crackle of fireworks still popping outside.

toji leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips—a stark contrast to the bruising way he’d just taken you.

“happy new year,” you whispered, brushing your lips over the scar near his lip.

he huffed softly, pulling you closer until there wasn’t a sliver of space between you.

“yeah,” he muttered, his voice softer now, almost fond. “it is.”

an. happy birthday toji 😓, you are so loved. HAPPY NEW YEAR’S EVE 🥳! new fic (unrelated to this) will be uploaded tomorrow! so turn on post notifications :)

[nachrosas]

CHRISTMAS SURPRISE | s.reid x reader

summary: in which spencer asks you an important question on christmas morning. pairing: spencer reid x reader content warnings: none, just pure fluff! word count: 849 a/n: night, night! posting this tonight because tomorrow i will be busy with work and christmas eve preparations! i had fun writing this one and i really hope you guys like it! feedback is always appreciated! also, my inbox is always open to chat (i love to talk and meet new people)! till the next one!

The pale light of Christmas morning flooded into the room through the slightly closed curtain gaps. The Christmas tree in the corner of the room blinked softly, each colorful twinkle reflecting off the delicate ornaments you had hung together weeks ago. The comforting scent of hot chocolate filled the air, mingling with the faint hint of cinnamon from the candles burning on the mantelpiece.

You were curled up on the sofa, a soft blanket wrapped around your shoulders, while Spencer was sitting next to you, legs crossed and a steaming mug between his hands. His glasses were a little crooked, and a messy lock of hair fell over his forehead, but he seemed oblivious, concentrating on something he was trying to hide behind his body.

“Is everything all right, Honey?” you asked, with a slight smile.

“It's just that you always look so beautiful in the morning,” he murmured with a shy smile, his eyes sparkling with something other than Christmas lights. Before you could reply, he bent down slightly to pick something up from the floor. “I have one last present for you.”

The way he held the small package wrapped in red and gold paper made your heart soar, but you tried to disguise your excitement, accepting the gift with slightly trembling hands.

“You'll like it, I think.” he said, looking away for a moment, but not before you noticed the blush that took over his cheeks.

You smiled suspiciously and began to undo the wrapping, just to tease him slowly. “Spencer Reid, what are you up to?”

He moved closer to you, trying to look relaxed. “Just… open it.” he mumbled, looking away again, but not without biting the corner of the underside.

When you removed the paper and opened the lid of the box, you found a small book, with a handmade cover and his unmistakable handwriting written in gold: Our Story. Your fingers gently brushed across the cover before opening the first page. A brief description accompanied by a photo of the first coffee you shared.

Each page was a journey through time — the first meeting, a lazy afternoon in the park, the trip that seemed to end in a huge disaster, but which turned out to be unforgettable. Some pages had little pressed flowers or funny notes next to the photos.

Your fingers slid along the edge of the last page of the book, curious to see how it would conclude the collection of memories that seemed so carefully crafted. When the page turned, the emptiness almost disconcerted you. There were no photos, just a single sentence written in his precise handwriting:

“Will you marry me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Your heart raced, and the words on the page began to jumble together, clouded by tears that you didn't even realize were there. When you finally managed to raise your eyes, Spencer was kneeling in front of you. The book still trembled slightly in his hands, but he looked like a statue of serenity. His eyes, however, betrayed his anxiety, shining with a mixture of nervousness and hope.

“I… didn't know how to say it perfectly.” he began, his voice low and charged with emotion. “So I thought the best way was to show you how much you mean to me, how every moment with you is a story I want to keep forever.”

He opened the small box he was holding, revealing a ring that glowed softly under the colored lights. “So, here I am. Do you want to be my next story? Will you marry me?”

You couldn't contain your emotional laughter, a sob escaping at the same time as a huge smile formed on your face. The book slipped from your hands onto the sofa as you leaned over to hug it, the words finally finding their way out.

“Yes.” you said, your voice laced with emotion. “Yes, Spencer, I want to marry you.”

His heart seemed to beat so loudly that you were sure he could hear it. Spencer was still kneeling in front of you, the ring gleaming on his trembling hand, and your eyes met his - hopeful, nervous, full of love. His fingers on yours were gentle, but you could feel the slight tremor as he made sure the ring fitted perfectly. 

When your eyes returned to him, Spencer was already getting up, pulling you close to him. “I still can't believe you said yes,” he murmured, a nervous smile forming on his lips.

“How could I say no?” you replied, before leaning in to kiss him.

The kiss was soft, sweet, and full of unspoken promises. The lights on the Christmas tree in front of you flashed, reflecting off the tears you hadn't yet wiped away and Spencer's eyes, which now shone as brightly as the ring on your hand.

When you separated, he leaned his forehead against yours, still holding your hands. “Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.” he whispered, his voice as soft as a secret.

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, smiling, knowing that this was the beginning of the best present of all.

[yamumsyadadd]

Sometimes all you need is a little love

At 5, you were loved. Your mum and dad adored you. Everything was about you and your parents.  They worked hard, and in return you got to fulfil your dream of being a footballer. 

At 8, things started to change. Sundays that were usually filled with church in the morning, and Barcelona games in the afternoon slowly started to disappear. 

Your mum and dad were fighting. She was looking frail, unwell, a shell of herself. He looked angry, distant, with marks on his arms, coming home smelling like cigarettes and flowers. It was a weird smell, it would linger in the air for hours to come. 

Gone were the days when they would both come to your football. It was one or the other, sometimes even none of them. 

At 10, you found her. Hanging. You just sat there, watching her. Eventually going to the neighbours you thought you knew. Turns out they moved out and there was a new family. An older lady, Eli. She let you come inside and called for help while distracting you with cookies and her white fluffy dog. 

From that day, things changed. Your father’s love became less and less. His violence and drinking became more. He had a new girlfriend every other month. Barely lasting the entire calendar month. 

By age 12, La Masia came knocking. A full scholarship was on offer. It was your dream. Something you and your parents had worked hard for, together. Expect now it was just you. Forging your dad’s signature, you dropped the forms back off. Transferring to their academy the week later. 

La Masia was hard. Harder than you expect. Maybe it was because things at home were worse than ever before, your dad lost his job, the random woman continued however now there was random men added into it. Home wasn’t a safe place for you or anyone in that case. 

At 14, things hit an all time low, bruises and marks were becoming harder to hide with your promotion to the Barca B team. They were all so close to each other, hanging out after training, getting food or going shopping, their weekends were all spent together. But not with you. As much as they tried you shielded away from it. School and football were the two things that matter - there was no time for anything else, no time to worry about anything else. 

The closest thing you had to a parent was the lady across the hall, every few days there would be a plate of food at the front door when you arrived home. On Sundays it was a bigger meal, you’d divvy it out so it would last a few extra days. The limited money you did have was given to your dad, you’d keep some of it but it wasn’t enough for the bus fare and food. It was one of the other. 

Every morning you would make the one hour trek from your home in Mollet del Vallès, using that time to do your homework, study plays or rewatch games, sometimes even catching a few more minutes of sleep. Every evening, after training you’d stay and help pack away the equipment, sometime just relishing in the warmth of the facility, the endless hot water, the feeling of safety. 

One night, after missing the last bus, you hide in a supply closet. Knowing there was no way you’d get home that night, you huddled around the spare clothes and clean towels. It oddly was one of the best sleeps you’d had in years. The constant security that would walk around the facility made you feel safe. 

After that initial night, there were many more nights of sleeping at the facility. Was it the best idea? Probably not, but it was the safest, and the warmest. 

15 was when things really changed. At some point, your dad just stopped coming home. He’d be gone for days at a time. This time though, he was gone for almost three weeks. You bloomed in the silence. The apartment was clean, airy, in contrast to the dark, stuffy air that usually resides. 

On Christmas Eve things came to ahead. There wasn’t much food left. A few eggs, some bread and some cereal. No milk, vegetables or anything fresh. Biting the bullet, you made your way across the hall to the older ladies door. She had told you before that if you needed anything, to just knock. So you did, rocking back and forth on your heels, you were shocked when the door swung open and none other than Alexia Putellas, captain of the Barcelona Women’s team, 2 time Ballon D’Or winner, was standing there with a smile on her face. 

“Hola pequeña, are you ok?”

“Oh, um, hola? Is Eli here?” 

“Si, come in.” You stood there for a moment, staring at her, “mami a pequeña is here for you!” Eli, the nice, caring older woman was Alexia Putellas mother. Of course she was. 

“Neña! To what do I owe this visit?” 

“I am very sorry to interrupt and be rude, but I was wondering if you had any milk I could please have? My papi has gone away for a bit and forgot to leave some money.” 

“You’re alone? You’re no older than 16?” A smaller but almost identical person chimed in. 

“Si. I am 15”. A shy nod was all you could muster, the energy you previously had disappeared. 

“Well where did he go? Are you alone for Christmas?” 

“Uh, um a work trip? Si, si, a work trip! He will be back at some point, I’m sure.” It was a lie, a terrible horrible lie and everyone in that room knew. All three older women shared a look. 

“Here is some milk Nena. Do you want to stay for dinner?” 

“No no that’s okay. Thank you for the milk, I will give you money when I get some!” 

“Nonsense dear. It’s just milk.” 

Silently you grabbed the milk and started to walk towards the door, leaving the three women staring at you. Eli’s eyes expressed sadness, Alexia’s were confused, she knew you from somewhere but she couldn’t place it, Alba was bewildered, she remembered being 15 and there was no way in hell that Eli would’ve left her home alone, but especially not over the holiday period. 

“She is a good girl. She studies hard, she’s at La Masia. Always very polite but something is off in the house.” 

Alexia’s head whipped around, “she’s at the academy?” Eli nodded, “how does she get there? it’s a 40 minute drive and she’s not old enough?” 

“I don’t know Alexia, tonight was the most she’s spoken to me since she came asking for the ambulance when her mami died.” 

“That was her?” A nod was all alexia received. For the rest of the night they were all silent, you went to bed with a small amount of food in your stomach. The 8 pieces of French toast were enough to get you through until the farmers market opened on the 26th. 

A dread washed over you the following afternoon when there was a knock at the front door. Opening it slowly, and only half showing your face, Alexia and Alba (you learnt her name after googling Alexia), were standing there. 

“Hola pequeña. Mami asked if you and your papi wanted to join us for dinner?” Alexia voice was firm, almost as if there wasn’t room for you to say no. 

“Um, sure. My papi isn’t back yet, but what time does she want us?” 

“Now-“

“An hour-“ both girls spoke at the same time. Alba wanting to give you time to do whatever you needed, but alexia wanted you father to show himself. Unbeknownst to you, she had reached out to the La Masia staff and a few of the younger girls. 

Vicky and Martina had told her the little information that they knew. You were young, talented and a hard worker. You’d catch the bus to and from training, never really talking to anyone and certainly never hanging out with them. They’d offered to help you with your homework, Vicky realising very quickly that you were both in the same grade despite you being two years younger. Both Vicky and Martina felt that there was something off, never seeing your father or anyone supporting you at games, not even at the international friendly with the under 17s that you’d been called up too. 

“Okay? How about half an hour?” 

“That works. See you soon pequeña!” Alba grabbed her older sisters arm, pulling her away from the door. You slid down the back of yours once it was firmly closed. You needed to think of the perfect lie. Maybe you could say he was too tired, or stuck in traffic. No that wouldn’t work, if he was stuck in traffic they’d wait. The truth wasn’t an option. There’s no way you could just blurt out that you didn’t know where he was. 

The dinner was uncomfortable, the food was delicious but the unasked questions were making a lot of tension. You didn’t miss the way Alba and Eli continued to glance at you, or how their eyes went wide when you asked for more. This definitely cemented that something was wrong. 

The loud clattering of Alexia’s fork and knife, stopped you from shoveling more food in your mouth. 

“This is ridiculous. Pequeña, where is your papi?” 

“Don’t know.” You spoke nonchalantly, putting more food into your mouth. Confused looks where thrown around. Eli’s head slowly reaching for yours and taking the fork, “sweetheart, what do you mean you don’t know?” 

“I don’t know. He could be stuck at work, or in traffic or asleep.” I shrugged. It was a semi decent lie. 

“Does he leave for long periods often?” 

“No. It’s usually just a few days.” 

“Where does he go?” 

To get high, to fuck hookers, to steal, “work trips.” 

Thankfully the subject was dropped as Eli gave you back your fork. It didn’t feel like Christmas, no gifts were exchanged, no decorations or Christmas movies. It felt like a Sunday after church, all that was left was a trip to Camp Nou to watch a game but that wasn’t going to happen. Not now, not ever again. 

Eli sent you home when a lot of leftovers, ignoring the comments from her own two daughters that they would’ve liked to have some too. It was enough food for at least a month. You’d eaten plenty at dinner so the need for food tomorrow would be less. 

The following week was a blur. There was only two training sessions and school was off until after the New Year. Your father had yet to make a reappearance and due to the holidays, you were hiding in the house so you wouldn’t have to see any three of the Putellas women and answer questions. 

It worked, for three weeks, until the night you had planned to sleep in the same storage room as usual. Alexia appeared, fresh out of the shower. 

“Pequeña? What are you still doing here? It’s late.” 

“I lost track of time. I was studying.” 

“How are you getting home? Is your papi coming?” 

“No. I’m catching the bus.” You felt guilty lying to her, but it was the best option. No one would get hurt this way. 

“Let me drive you home. It’s late and you really shouldn’t be catching the bus.” 

Before you could argued, she’d grabbed the straps of your bag, dragging it and you along to her car. It was an awkward 40 minutes. Her car was much more comfortable than the bus, warmer and safer. You were still on high alert, especially when she was asking you questions. 

For the past five years you didn’t let anyone get close. It was easier that way. You didn’t have to explain the tiredness that was evident on your face, the random bruises that happened, the obvious weightless from the lack of food. 

From that moment on you silently agreed to keep everyone further way. You had to be more careful, no more roaming the halls after training. No more asking Eli for milk, or bread, or anything. Leaving extra early in the morning or as soon as training ended. No more being vulnerable. 

The day of your 16th birthday was supposed to be a good one. However your father had other plans. You’d been training with the senior team due to some injuries and then needing players, Jona had told you last night he would play you after halftime. A senior debut on your 16th birthday. 

That night you’d come home so incredibly happy only for it to come crashing down when your extremely intoxicated father decided to start a fight over the lack of money. He didn’t stop hitting you for what felt like hours. You weren’t sure if you passed out from the pain or from the exhaustion but you knew the following day it would be hell. 

The house was littered with used needles, smashed and empty bottles, and it smelt of cigarettes and stale booze. Your arms and legs were covered in bruises as well as a shiner on your face. That one would be the hardest to cover. it took an hour and large amount of makeup before you were confident about leaving the house. The bruise was mostly covered. You didn’t think it was that obvious though. The looks you received on the bus, and even as you walked through the halls, didn’t make you question your makeup job. 

True to his word, jona put you on in the 75th minute, subbing Salma off. It was electrifying, a rush you’d never felt before. Then game ended with a win, of course, there was a lot of praise from the older girls. Mario was incredibly impressed and offered to work with you more if you were interested. Something you immediately said yes too. Your bubble was burst when Alexia came over to tell her Eli was there and wanted to see you. 

The moment you were within arms reach of Eli, she could tell something was wrong. So could Alexia’s girlfriend, Olga, who she had just introduced you too. After chatting a bit more, Eli demanded she would take you home, making you hurry to gather your belongings in the locker room, forgoing a shower as you didn’t bring makeup to re-cover the bruise on your face. 

“Olga you need to help her with makeup.” Alba joked before hugging her sister goodbye. Olga and Eli shared a concerned looked. 

“Why is she wearing make up?” 

“Mami she’s 16. Teenagers wear makeup all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.” Eli shook her head, there was something wrong but she didn’t know what or how to ask you. 

“Ale, keep an eye on her yeah?”

“Olga she’s fine. She’s just a teenager.” Olga’s eyes pleaded with her, “si fine. I will watch over her.” 

Two weeks later things came crashing down horribly. You’d been moved into the senior squad officially, that came with perks. More money was the main one. It would only be a few months until you’d officially graduate high school, that meant you could pick up a part time job as well as football. What you didn’t account for was your father. 

When you walked in the door you were greeted with a random lady and a little boy, no older than 3, your father was very quickly shoving things into boxes and taping them up. 

“What’s going on?” Neither of the adults spared a glance at you. 

“I’m leaving. Thea and I are moving to Madrid.” 

“I can’t leave papi! The season is still going and i haven’t finished school yet!” 

“Good thing you weren’t invited then.” The last scoffed, flipping her son to the other hip. Your eyes were wide. Not believing what you were hearing. 

“Tomorrow, the moving truck will be here. You need to be gone by then.” 

“Wait! Where will I go? You can’t leave me here!” You yelled after them as they left the apartment. No longer caring who heard or who saw. 

“You’re not my problem anymore. I couldn’t care less about what you do or don’t do.” He turned to leave, “you could do the world a favour and hang yourself like your mother did.” With that he was gone. The apartment was mostly empty. 

You found the two biggest bags that you could carry. Filling one with all your football stuff, the other with you clothes, the few jumpers of your mothers that you had left, a sleeping bag and pillow. In your school backpack you packed your laptop and all the school work, plus your important documents (birth certificate, photo IDs, passport.) 

Though you had no idea where you would go, you knew you’d figure it out. What you didn’t account for was Eli. of course she would notice the moving vans, and the lack of you. 

Every second night you’d leave the training facility, set on finding somewhere that was semi safe to sleep. Even though it was the start of February, you knew the beach would be ok. There was enough light to keep you safe, you also had a little knife you stole from your father along time ago. 

The last morning before it all went to shit, you were sitting with your bags, still in your sleeping bag, watching the sunrise. Barcelona was quiet at this time of the morning. A few runners or cyclists around but other than that it was peaceful. 

“Pequeña? What are you doing here so early?” A semi familiar face dropped in front of you, startling you out of your thoughts. Unable to talk, you just stared at her. “I’m Olga, Alexia’s girlfriend. We met a couple of weeks ago. Do you remember?” 

I nodded, she continued on, “what are you doing here? Did you sleep here?”

“What? No! No I just like coming here in the mornings!” I hurried to get up, quickly shoving my things back into my bags, that’s when the knife dropped on the sand, right in front of Olga. We both stopped and stared at it. 

“Pequeña-“

“I better go. Enjoy your day.” I quickly picked it up and all but ran towards the bus stop. My thoughts were spiralling. She was going to tell Alexia. I wouldn’t be allowed to play, I’d be sent away somewhere else. 

Training was hell. No matter how much you tried to avoid Irene, Marta or Alexia they always appeared. It didn’t seem that Olga had told Alexia or that anyone else knew but it was only a matter of time. All you needed was a few weeks, just to get through the Copa de la Reina final and then you could figure it out. 

Thankfully the week went fast and the game on the weekend was a success. There were no more run ins with Olga, or any of the captains of the team. You went as far to complete ignore Eli, Alba and Olga after the game. Quickly running into the locker room and showering before anyone else. 

It was harder to hide in the facility after home games. It was busy with trainers, medical staff, admin staff, basically everyone but you figured it out. It was a restless sleep, the close call with Olga playing in your mind on repeat. 

Unbeknownst to you, Eli had mentioned it to Alexia at their usual family dinner post match. 

“Nena moved.” 

“To where?” Both Alba and Alexia’s head shot up. 

“I don’t know. She didn’t say anything. I heard her papi say Madrid. I’m assuming she isn’t joining since she’s still playing here.” 

“I’ll find out.” Olga knew in that moment she needed to come clean about finding you on the beach. Clearly you didn’t have somewhere safe to stay. Later that night, when it was just her and Alexia cuddled in their bed she did just that. 

“I saw Nena at the beach the other morning.” 

“Likely place for her to be. She has mentioned loving the beach in the past.” Alexia dismissed what Olga was saying, not particularly understanding why that was important. 

“No ale. I think she slept there. She had a sleeping bag and heaps of stuff.” 

Silence encapsulated the couple. “I’ll deal with it.” was all the captain said before rolling over and going to sleep. Expect, she didn’t sleep. She played through every interaction she’d had with you, every imagine of you in her mind. You looked tired, the light behind your eyes was gone, you had fully retreated back into your shell, barely talking at training or games, only answering questions when directly asked. 

Something was definitely wrong, very very wrong. Enlisting the help of Irene and Marta and Olga, they would find out exactly how wrong it was. 

It was evident when you came into training that you hadn’t slept, the truth was that the beach no longer felt safe. Not after that creepy man was watching you. Staying at the facility every night wasn’t an option, neither was staying with a teammate. So you stay at the train station all night. It was relatively safe, but the thought of that man kept you awake. 

You’d gotten half way through the day when you snapped. Usually you’d try and stick to Caro or Keira’s sides. Caro because she was quiet and Keira because she couldn’t exactly understand you and you couldn’t understand her. Unfortunately the gym groups were assigned differently today, meaning you got stuck with Mapi, Pina, Patri and Cata. The group of people you hated being around the most. There was never a quiet moment, they were always loud. So incredibly loud. 

It was after Mapi had ruffled your hair for the third time that you mumbled for her to stop. 

“We can’t hear you gallina. Speak up.” Patri laughed. 

“I said, don’t touch me. And don’t call me gallina.” Your patience was thinning, and fast. 

“Cheer up gallina. We are just playing.” Mapi went to ruffle your hair again, your hands landing on her chest and shoving her back into Cata. 

“I said don’t fucking touch me Maria!” Everyone stopped, turning in horror to see the scene unfold. Tears welled in your eyes, you bolted as fast as you could. 

“Nena-“ Ingrid tried to grab your wrists but you dodged her. 

Alexia, Irene and Marta all stopped what they were doing. It was extremely unlike you to be so aggressive and rude. No matter how shy you were, you always used your manners. They all shared a look before following you to the locker room. 

You rushed through the locker room trying to get your bags packed as fast as possible. You had no idea where you would go, but you needed to get out of here. Far away from the sympathetic looks of your teammates. You were so far in your own head that you didn’t hear the cleats on the floor or the door to the locker opening. 

“Nena? What’s wrong?” Irene’s hand on your shoulder startled you. 

“Nothing I’m fine. I need to go.” You shrugged her hand off you, putting your backpack on and grabbing your duffle that contained your pillow and sleeping bag. 

“Please let us help Nena. We want to help you but we can’t if you don’t let us.” Marta spoke up next, as you looked up you saw that Alexia was standing between you and the door, the only route out of the locker room. 

“Please move. I want to go home.” 

“Home? Where is that Nena? It’s not in Mollet del Vallès. I know that much.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath, yelling at your captains was a horrible idea, truly horrible. Even in this mental state you knew that, “I do not want to be rude Alexia, but it’s none of your business. I come here, I train, I play, I do as I am told, I don’t make trouble or do anything wrong. Please let me leave.” 

Alexia looked troubled. You needed help, that much was clear, but you were right. You did everything that was asked of you, never complaining or whining about it. She looked to Irene for help, Irene simply nodded and alexia moved. 

“If you need help, somewhere to stay, you have my address and you know where Mami is.” 

A curt nod was all she received and then you were gone. As fast as you could walk without causing any attention to yourself. You spent the next few hours walking around. When it was dark and late, the train station was where you headed. It wasn’t until you were comfy that you realised you grabbed the wrong bag. You left your sleeping bag and more importantly your phone charger at the training facility. There wasn’t much that could be done now, you just had to wait it out. 

As you walked into training, you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. You were late, never have you been late before. The lack of proper sleep, nutrition and your body always on high alert was getting to you. By the end of training you were exhausted. Barely having the energy to walk into the locker rooms to shower. Usually when someone was late without giving a proper warning, they’d run laps. No one told you to run laps so you didn’t. 

A few days later, at the beach, Olga saw you again. This time you looked worse than before. She made her way to a local bakery, getting water, coffee and something for you to eat before making her way back towards you and hoping you wouldn’t run off. 

“¿Niña? Can I sit with you?” She startled you, that much was obvious but you nodded and she handed over everything she bought. 

“Why are you here?” 

“I like the beach.” 

“You’re sleeping here?” She could tell you were scared, it took a while for you to reply. 

“Only sometimes.” 

Olga nodded, the silence settling over the both of you. “Let me take you to training?” 

The drive seem to take forever. It was uncomfortable, Olga wanted to get more information out of you, you wanted nothing more then to be swallowed into a black hole. 

“Niña? If you don’t have anywhere safe and warm to stay, please come to mine and Ale’s? We won’t be mad, or disappointed. We want to help you. Okay?” 

You gave her a small nod, moving to wipe your tears and get out of the car. Unbeknownst to the both of you, Alexia was in her own car a few metres away watching the whole thing. 

It took a day for Alexia to coax all the information out of Olga but when she finally did, she was heartbroken. The thing she had hoped wasn’t true, was in fact true. You were living on the street. Sleeping wherever you could, your papi had left you to fend for yourself. It’s not that you were doing a horrible job at it, but it was obvious you weren’t eating or sleeping enough. 

The night of the El Classico is when things went truly horrible. Alexia had told Irene, Mapi and Marta what had happened but any time they tried to talk to you, you literally ran away.

The streets of Barcelona were well and truly alive. The Madrid fans had left the Johan feeling annoyed, angry and disappointed. Anyone would when their team lost 7-0. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to sleep on the beach that night, but there truly wasn’t anywhere else. The train station would’ve been worse, the facility wouldn’t be quiet until after midnight, and there was no way you’d go to a teammates house. 

You’d only just drifted to sleep when you heard the group of guys approaching. They were drunk, that much was obvious. Pretty quickly you woke yourself up, but you didn’t dare to move. Maybe they would just keep walking. Your back was facing the sea, and them but as soon as they laid their hands on you, you turned around. 

“Oye, it’s the Barca puta.”

“You’re the reason we lost.”

“We should break her legs!” 

The fear set it. As soon as the hits started, they ended. Not only had they assaulted you, but they had stolen your school bag that contained your laptop, water bottle and phone charger. It look a while for the pain to become tolerable. you could recognise that you were bleeding, your ribs hurt, along with your arm, head and leg. You were scared and alone. 

Abandoning the beach, you made your way to the one place you could think of. The two women who had urged you time and time again to let them help you, you had refused but right now you needed it more than anything. With the help of your phone maps, you managed to get to their apartment. It took a lot longer than it should have, having to stop every now and then to take deep breaths when the pain was too bad. 

You weakly raised your fist to the door, the energy was zapped out of you. It felt like forever before someone answered. 

“Hol- holy fuck. Alexia! Come here neña. Let me help you. ALEXIA!” Olga answered the door, annoyed that someone was knocking so late at night. The minute she opened it, she wanted to cry. You were stood there, bloodied and bruised. Seemingly out of it, looking so small and frightened. 

She starting leading you to the kitchen when alexia finally came, “what? Oh my god, pequena! What happened?” 

“Hurt.”

“Where hurts neña?”

“Head bleeding… arm broken, I think… maybe ribs… leg too. Stole my school bag.” Alexia was freaking out, the usual calm, stoic captain was on the verge of tears. 

“We need to call the police Olga! And mami and Irene and-“

“Ale stop. Neña, drink this yes? Alexia is going to get the first aid from the bathroom and we are going to clean you up. We will need to take you to the hospital, but that can wait for a few minutes.” She gave alexia a pointed look while she opened the water bottle and helped you drink. 

Their apartment was soft. Very homey and not clinical like you imagined. There were photos of Alexia and her family, Olga and hers, then of them both. There were plants scattered around, a few awards here and there but not many, the one thing that seemed out of place was the dog bed and toys. 

“Dog?” Olga’s eyes followed yours, confused as to what you were asking. 

“Nala. She died last year but we haven’t been able to get rid of her things.”

“Sorry”. Alexia arrived back with the first aid kit, phone to her ear and a lot less panicked but a lot more mad. that stressed you out, Olga picking up on it straight away. Things moved fast from that point. Alexia and Olga cleaned you up the best they could but ultimately decided that you needed the hospital. It was all a blur. One minute you were in their apartment, the next you were in a hospital gown sitting in a room. 

Alexia was non stop pacing, you sat there, wide eyed waiting for her to say something. 

“You can say it.” You whispered. 

Both girls stopped and looked at you confused, “say what pequena?” 

“I told you so’ or ‘you should’ve let me help’, whatever you have planned just say it.” You could no longer look at them, staring down at the floor. You missed the look of heartbreak sweep across both their faces. 

“No no pequena. This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. There’s no ‘I told you so’ to be said. You came to use when you needed help, we are here now to help that’s all that matters. Okay?” Alexia slowly reached out to wipe the tears from your face. 

“I’m sorry.” That was it. All three of you were holding each other crying. Time seemed to blend into one second. You got stitches in your eyebrow and on your leg, your arm was in fact broken and a cast was put on. The doctor seemed to talk and talk, none of the words making any sense. It was until you saw the two police officers standing outside that you seemed to snap out of it. 

The doctor left the room, seemingly to talk to the police officers and give them a run down. Olga noticed how on edge you were very quickly. 

“Hey, neña, they are only here to ask what happened okay? You aren’t in any trouble.” 

You stood up quickly, grabbing the bag with your blood stained clothes, “no I need to go. This was a mistake.” 

“Go where pequena?” 

“They are going to take me away! I don’t have anywhere to live Alexia! Papi left. He got rid of the house. Mami is dead. I have no where so I’m going to leave before they can take me.” 

“Neña no.” Olga moved to block the door. She is small. You could take her, you thought. “You’re staying with us. They aren’t going to take you because you have a home, with us. You will stay as long as needed.” 

Alexia and Olga hadn’t exactly had the conversation about it, but they both seemed to be able to read each other’s minds. They were going to take care of you, love you like your parents should have. Sure you’re 16, almost an adult. But everyone needs a parental figure, no matter the age. 

“No. You two have your own life, I’m not your responsibility. I can take care of myself, I have been for years.” 

“But you can’t neña. You can’t get an apartment, or a phone plan, or your drivers licence. If you’ll let us, we will take care of you.” You were considering it, really considering it. Having a proper bed, proper meals, somewhere safe? It sounded like heaven. 

“It won’t be easy pequena, it’ll be hard. For all of us. We’ll have to learn to trust each other, and learn how to live with each other but it’ll be worth it. You can decorate the room however you want, we will buy you whatever you need.” 

Before the could continue, the police came in. It took a while to answer all their questions. You could see Alexia and Olga holding hands tightly, wincing slightly when you go into detail. 

“What about my school bag? It has all my school stuff and my laptop?” 

“We will look for it, but there’s no promises it’ll be found. Do you have somewhere safe to stay?” 

“With Alexia and Olga.” You could visibly feel the tension leave both the women. The officers asked Alexia and Olga to step out with them to talk, you took a few moments to gather your thoughts. How had things changed so much. You were just a kid, yet you were forced to look after yourself like you were an adult. You wanted to be vulnerable, to have someone take care of you. Sometimes all we need is a little love. 

Maybe in time, things would get better. 

[a-hazbin-reader]

I know Alastor craves Wifey’s attention, but does Wifey crave his attention in the same way?

🥴

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None?? I think???

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor loves having your attention but he loves it even more when you seek him out, he loves being needed by you

He tries to hide his giddiness though, he can't be caught grinning like a fool because his wife wants a hug from him

He has a reputation to uphold

He's in his radio tower and you suddenly sit yourself in his lap mid broadcast? He's wrapping an arm around you and kissing your head while you bury your face in his neck

He cuts out the broadcast for a moment to give you the proper attention, tilting your chin up so that you look at him

"Just a moment, folks! Hello darling, stressful day?"

His claws are scratching along the back of your neck, sending a pleasant tingle down your spine as you lean against him

"Mmn... just wanna be with you..."

Suddenly you're being squeezed tight, your face smashed into his neck so you don't see the heat rising to his face over how cute you are

Anyone who might've been listening would find the screams of the broadcast suddenly interrupted by sharp crackling radio static

He's trying to get out of bed and you whine that you want him to stay?? He's going to try his hardest and resist the urge to jump back in

That is until you wrap your arms around him and press your chest to his back, rubbing your cheek on his shoulder

"Just stay in bed...we could have a lazy day..."

Alastor has to rub a hand over his face to hide his blush, his smile tight from trying not to coo over you, giving you a small kiss

"You have to get up too, my dear~ Come on, I'll make breakfast."

He stands up only to feel you hanging off of him, legs wrapping around him with determination

"No. I stay with you."

"Fine then, I'm going to get started on our day."

"I'll be right here~"

A small bleat escapes him, actual steam coming out of his ears as he helps support your legs

"Darling please! What will everyone say?"

You just close your eyes and hum, resting your head against his back as he laughs at the absurdity of the situation

"Don't care. Going back to sleep..."

Nobody dares look at you two as Alastor walks about the hotel with you strapped to his back, they all do their best to pretend like it's not happening

Except Angel who laughs as soon as Alastor walks into the lobby with a mug of coffee in hand, ears down low as he tries to hide his embarrassment

"Ha! Whipped!"

There's been plenty of times where you've just come to him wanting his affection for a moment before scampering off

You've even interrupted overlord meetings because he left without giving you a goodbye kiss, you always found an excuse to get in

One time, you even showed up with trays of food, trailing behind Rosie and Zestial, who both helped you crash the meeting and carry food

Carmilla was visibly surprised at the sight of you, doing a double take and cautiously sniffing the air

"Y/N..? What is all this..?"

You don't miss the way your husband's cheeks light up as he tries to look as innocent as possible, realizing his mistake

"Alastor forgot his lunch and I just couldn't let all of you go hungry..! I hope you don't mind~"

You brought out the big guns with the food, and none of the overlords even make a fuss about you being there

You come around to your husband's chair, hearing him audibly gulp as you lean down to kiss his temple

"Hello again, my dear-"

"You forgot to kiss me goodbye, darling~ What's a girl supposed to think when her husband won't kiss her?"

You sound so pitiful and cute, he can't help but stand up to squeeze you into a proper hug before walking you out to try and preserve some of his image

"They're just so cute, aren't they? Young love and all that~"

"...they are."

"Aren't they both like-fucking old?"

"Eat your food."

It's already gone, Alastor

"Forgive me, my dear... I was in a hurry and didn't realize-"

He feels even worse when you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a sad face, resting against him

"You owe me...at least 12 kisses and not little ones!"

He's fumbling to find the words to say, using one hand to push away your kissy lips while he looks away from you

He knows he looks so whipped right now-he needs a moment to compose himself

Once he's able to look at you again, he knows it's all over, a soft blush on his face as you kiss his palm and stare at him

"Darling..."

"I just want some attention from my husband, is that so bad?"

He can't deny you anything, leaning in to give you a soft kiss and rubbing your cheek, you nearly kill him when he pulls away and sees your lovesick expression

"I'll be home soon, I promise. You'll get all of my time and attention after that, deal?"

You close your eyes and nuzzle against his hand, practically hugging his arm to keep him there

"Mm...making deals with a man like you is dangerous, what do you want in return?"

Alastor can't help but grin, pulling you in closer for another kiss and stopping just before your lips touch

"I've already got an adorable wife~ Buuuut~ If you're offering something then maybe we go out dancing later?"

He kisses you before you can answer, pressing his forehead to yours as he smiles at you

"It's a deal then~"

Reluctantly, he lets you walk away after giving you a few more kisses only to realize later that you got exactly what you wanted

When he walks back into the meeting, everyone's eyes are on him before they suddenly look down at their meals

"What?"

Carmilla coughs awkwardly and Rosie pushes a mirror towards Alastor, who discovers his face is covered in lipstick marks

He can't even bring himself to be mad, sighing fondly as he takes a napkin from Carmilla and wipes his face off

What is he going to do with you...

I hope you like this one!!

[bellanothadidloa]

I've been receiving a lot of inquiries since sharing my success story, and while I'm not planning to start a blog, I do want to address some common questions here.

Did I manifest everything from the void?

Yes, everything I listed was indeed manifested when I entered the void, as outlined in my story. I've had some successes with various experiments before, but none reached the level of my most recent attempt.

What was the most crucial factor in achieving the final breakthrough?

I wish there was a straightforward answer, but it probably boils down to the realization that no matter how much I complained or cried, I was determined not to give up. I would read success stories and find myself in tears because they mirrored the life I aspired to have. I wanted to shift realities, be wealthy, happy, and beautiful—it might sound vain, but that's what I desired. I longed to feel free, unbound by any world, and to pursue my own path. Who wouldn't want that? At some point, I asked myself, would I still be trying to shift at 30, while struggling with dietary issues caused by gut praxis disorder? If the answer was yes, what did that mean? It meant I wasn't going to give up. So, I kept trying different things, knowing that eventually, something would work. Inner work is essential, but I believe it's inevitable. The longest journey I've seen took seven years. Do I want that for myself? Absolutely not, but what if it happens? The very acceptance of that possibility means you're not giving up, so what does it matter?

What method did you use?

As I've mentioned, I've tried every method. The final one that worked was the morphic field. I don't really care whether it was the morphic fields or something else that clicked within me. As I mentioned earlier, I realized I was sad, but I knew I wasn't going to give up, so I let myself be sad. Who cares? Let me be angry; I'm still not giving up. So, why fight those feelings? I cared and was disappointed and scared, but I just decided to trust in the fields because, in the end, it didn't matter whether they worked or not. I wasn't giving up.

How do you feel now that you've achieved your dream life?

I've managed to transform my life and self-concept, and along with being incredibly happy, I feel a mix of sadness for everything I endured and pride for how I pushed myself before succeeding. Initially, I thought it would be hypocritical to say I love myself after I changed everything about myself, looks and life, but I realized this is my life, and I'm still the same person, just with desires that now align with my reality. Why would I want to be unhappy in a life that makes no sense to be sad in? I don't believe anyone deserves or doesn't deserve anything. Do what you want, pursue inner work if you wish, or just manifest your desires. Personally, I didn't feel the need to do the inner work after manifesting my dream life, but I know some people do, and that's beautiful too. Life is just beautiful.

How to mend your relationship with the void?

The only advice I can offer from my experience is to acknowledge that you're not giving up on it. It reminds me of toxic relationships where despite infidelity, they say, "I know where home is." Unlike those misguided people, the void genuinely serves its purpose and supports you. It already knows its home is with you, whether you realize it or not, and that's all that matters.

How did you exit the void state ?

Exiting the void was a simple experience for me. I simply took a deep, calming breath and set a clear intention to leave. The sensation that followed was like tunnel vision, where everything around me seemed to narrow and focus. This was followed by a profound sense of detachment from any sense of self, almost like becoming weightless or losing a sense of individual identity. When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself in a completely new room, confirming that I had successfully transitioned out of the void and back to reality with everything on my life

Did everything you wanted come true?

Oh, absolutely—and then some! I ended up getting things I didn't even know I wanted. The way I look now is even better than my Pinterest boards ever dreamed of. Like, I had this idea for how I wanted my room to look, trying to mash together different vibes and aesthetics, and it turned out way better than I could have pictured. I was stuck between wanting a curvy figure and that sleek Bella Hadid look, but somehow I got the best of both worlds, which is exactly what I was hoping for.

I wasn’t even thinking about changing my eye color, but it happened, and I absolutely love it. I thought I'd revise old friends, but instead, I found new, amazing people who fit into my life perfectly. Now that I’ve got a better sense of self, I see this is exactly what I really wanted deep down. Everything just fell into place so perfectly, and it feels like I've finally got a handle on what I truly wanted all along.

Can you manifest things for other people?

Well, yeah, but it’s kind of like it's really just about yourself in a way. I mean, there have been times when I managed to manifest things for my brother, but oddly enough, I struggled to do the same for myself. It's weird, right? I don't fully understand how manifestation works in every detail. I just kind of go with the flow and assume it works the way I want it to. If I can pull off all these manifestations, then why not just trust that I can manifest whatever I want, however I want it? That's the mindset I've adopted, and it seems to work for me.

What's it like being a master shifter?

It's like waking up and remembering who you truly are, and almost laughing at all the suffering you experienced. When you think about it, you might have lowkey created that suffering yourself, which is kind of sadistic, but instead of holding onto any negative emotions about the journey, I just appreciate my life more. It’s a mix of joy and bliss. I still remember my old life, sure, but somehow, this new reality feels just right. It's like destiny exists, and I’ve finally found mine.

This concludes everything for me, and I’ve decided I won't be continuing my blog any longer. I've shared a lot of helpful insights in the past, but I won't be actively posting from now on. Thank you all for the love and support. I’ve reached a point where I no longer have a reason to continue here, and soon, you won't either. Goodbye and take care!

[hazbinwhoree]

OMG PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE CAN U DO A

yandere adam x reader x yandere lucifer

like basically durning the last extermination adam sees the sinner and basically fall heads over wings for them

and yk durning the heaven meeting he made a globe to watch angel dust i feel like he makes that globe thing to watch the reader see how there doing and sees that lucifer is too close to them

i feel like he would try to do anything to get them into heaven with him and far away from lucifer be he already took his first wife and maybe his second and he doesn’t want him to take his third wife

(SORRY IF ITS LONG)

The Third Wife

Part 1/2 Part 2

Yandere!Adam x Reader x Yandere!Lucifer

A/N: I had fun writing this but I don’t plan on a part 2 because I don’t know where to take it from here. I hope you enjoy!

Lucifer had taken Lilith, and Eve, and now he was going to take (Name). He met her first, it wasn’t fair Adam was trying to steal her. (Name) was a human on Earth who had summoned Lucifer a few months back to strike a deal. Lucifer found her adorable and endearing and found himself slowly catching feelings. He planned to convince her to join him in Hell.

Adam had Lilith stolen from him by Lucifer. Then Eve. He’d be damned if he lost (Name) too.

He first met (Name) during an extermination, (she had died and reincarnated as a sinner) and to his own surprise, he fell hard. He became obsessive, spending most of his free time in Heaven holed up in his room watching (Name) through his globe. He had to make sure she and Lucifer weren’t getting too close while he tried to figure out how to get (Name) into Heaven.

To Adam’s dismay, (Name) joined the princess’ stupid hotel. That meant more time spent with Lucifer. Adam couldn’t let that happen. The more he watched, the more possessive Lucifer began to act over (Name). It infuriated Adam. He came to the conclusion there was only one way to get (Name) away from Lucifer to be with him.

He was going to approve of Miss Sunshine and Rainbows’ Hazbin Hotel.

Lute was appalled when he told her. “But why, sir?” “None of your fucking business,” Adam snapped. “Tell the bitch princess I want another meeting.”

Adam actually came to Hell to meet with Charlie.

“So…” Charlie looked skeptical. “What’s this about? I thought you were too good to come to Hell outside of the extermination.”

“I’m giving your stupid little hotel the green light.”

“What?” Both Charlie and Vaggie’s jaws dropped.

Adam rolled his eyes. “Don’t shit your panties.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Vaggie asked suspiciously.

“Doesn’t matter. You gonna give me a tour so I know what I’m agreeing to?”

Charlie wasn’t nearly as suspicious as Vaggie. “Of course!” She was practically bouncing with excitement. “Come with us!”

When they entered Hazbin Hotel, all the residents stopped what they were doing to stare. Adam made eye contact with (Name). She was the only one who mattered.

“What is he doing here?” The porn demon asked.

Charlie linked her arm through Adam’s and he tried not to grimace. “Adam has agreed to the Hazbin Hotel! We’re giving him a tour!” The residents looked skeptical. Except for (Name), who smiled and waved at him. His heart fluttered.

Charlie dragged Adam around the hotel, talking his ear off and introducing him to different residents and discussing their progress. When she got to (Name), Adam cut her off. “We’ve met.”

“Oh!” Charlie exclaimed. “Good!”

“Charlie–” a voice sounded from down the hallway. Lucifer had rounded the corner, calling his daughter’s name, but he stopped abruptly when he saw Adam. “What the fuck.”

“Dad!” Charlie tugged Adam over to him. “Adam said yes to the hotel!” “Did he now?” Lucifer narrowed his eyes at Adam. Adam narrowed his back. The energy was palpable as they stared one another down. “Your change of heart wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with (Name), would it?”

Adam smirked and answered with silence. Lucifer was fuming. “Alllright… that’s enough of that. I’ll talk to you later, Dad!” Charlie broke them up, leading Adam back to the lobby.

At the door, far enough from any nosey ears, Adam stopped Charlie. “The agreement comes with a stipulation, princess.” Charlie’s face fell. “Relax, sweetie, it’s not a big deal. If sinners are cleansing their souls and coming to Heaven, I want (Name) to be the first.” Charlie looked relieved. “Deal!” They shook on it.

When Adam left, Lucifer approached his daughter. “You can’t trust him, Charlie, he definitely has ulterior motives.” “He only had one stipulation,” Charlie smiled. “(Name) is to be the first sinner redeemed!” “What?”

Lucifer was furious. He knew Adam had been up to something.

“Tell me you didn’t agree, Charlie.”

Charlie looked confused. “I did… why wouldn’t I? (Name) is here to be redeemed, who cares about the order?”

“I care! Because I was going to convince her to stay in Hell!”

Charlie was surprised. “What, why?”

But Lucifer was already storming away. He stormed straight to (Name)’s room and banged on the door. She answered it, and as soon as she did, Lucifer pushed his way into the room and shut the door.

“Well, hello to you too,” (Name) said sarcastically.

“I want you to stay in Hell.”

“What?”

“I want you to stay in Hell,” Lucifer repeated. “Why?” (Name) asked. “Because I’m in love with you!”

(Name)’s mouth fell open, moving as she tried to form words, but nothing came out.

Lucifer took her hands in his. “Please. Say something.”

“Lucifer that’s… that’s a lot. I care about you, a lot, I do, but I want to go to Heaven. My quality of life down here is shit, and you can’t change that.”

“But I can!” Lucifer insisted. “Be mine and I’ll give you everything you could possibly want.”

“I’m sorry,” (Name) said, looking sympathetic. “I want Heaven.”

Lucifer continued to try to get her to change her mind over the next month as she worked to be redeemed, but before he knew it, her soul was cleansed and Heaven was ready to take her.

Adam was of course the first to greet her, a massive grin on his face. “Welcome to Heaven, babe! Congrats on getting out of that shithole. Let me show you around.” He offered her his hand, and his face warmed under his mask when she took it without hesitation. He had won.

Lucifer was scheming, no doubt, but for now, Adam had won.

[tusk-rumours]

top button ༉‧˚. — sam winchester x gn!reader

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

word count: 0.9k

summary: that patch of chest at the top of sam’s flannel is just so kissable.

warnings: mentions of feet?? other than that none i don’t think

a/n: okay so this is something short bc my laptop is broken so i have to use my shitty old one and it's just a little (lot) awful :) so i haven’t really written in a while, but this is just something short i’m putting out! i’ll write about sam regardless lmao. and good news my laptops getting fixed in a few days, so prepare to be sick of me :) but anyway enjoy 🫶

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Considering all of Sam's beautiful features, you weren't sure why you had been so caught up on this one tiny detail for the past half hour. He was in one of his flannels as per usual, currently pacing the floor of the little motel room with the coroner's report in his hand. You'd been watching from where you sat with your legs stretched out on the bed, balancing the laptop on your thighs.

You guys had just recently caught on a case after reading about a few deaths in a rural town, where all the vics had several bones ripped from their bodies. What puzzled you guys was that it wasn't the same bones every time. It was like they were chosen at random.

Sam had that crease formed between his brows that he got when he was thinking, confused, or judgy, and you felt a strong desire to rub your thumb there, followed by a kiss. But right now you were more focused on that little patch of skin that was exposed at the top of his flannel. Whenever he wore button downs he always kept the top one undone, exposing a little bit of bare chest. It was so simple and normal, but you found it so lovely (and sexy).

You tried looking back at your screen, that was on some really sketchy website that you had to search the depths of the internet for, but you were just so distracted. You found this case interesting. It was really interesting. What the hell was so captivating about that tiny patch of skin? Of course you found every single thing about him hot, there was no doubt about that. But it wasn't even like it got you hot and bothered. It didn't make you wanna pounce him, it made you soft.

And so, you slide your laptop onto the bed, padding over. He's still captivated by the report.

"The only repeated bone is the humerus, which was two out of five vics. That is the most random bone eve— oh" He hadn't noticed at all that you'd come and snuck up on him, moving the paper so he can see your face.

You don't say a word, smiling sweetly before you lean up on your toes, steadying yourself with your hands gently on his waist, zeroing in on his chest and pressing a long, gentle kiss to that bit of exposed skin. Sam honestly doesn't know what to do. You've never done this before, and he can't figure out where it's come from. Obviously you’ve done many sweet things to him, but you’ve never kissed there before. Despite that, he lets you, because honestly he'd let you do anything you want with him.

You've almost argued with him about that several times before. Sam is adamant about getting your consent whenever you guys do something sexual or something new, but when it's you asking, it's always 'You don't have to ask. It's you, there's nothing I'll hate. I promise.' And you've let him know full well that that's ridiculous. He can be such a hypocrite sometimes.

He loves anything you do, and definitely likes you kissing him anywhere. There's really nowhere he wouldn't let you kiss. He'd probably get a bit uncomfortable if you wanted to kiss his feet, but if you really begged he'd let you. He'd just be pouty that he couldn't kiss you for the next few hours.

A hand comes up to gently card through your hair as you continue to press sweet butterfly kisses to the his bare chest that's peeking.

"...honey?" He questions after a few moments, his voice quiet and a little confused.

All you answer with is a hum, your gentle affection continuing.

This easily could've turned into something more, your fingers could've moved to the button below and undone it, then the next, and the next. But you didn't. The most your fingers did was trace along his waist, one hand creeping up to his shoulder, lightly grazing his collar.

The report drops to the floor with the sound of rustled paper, and his other arm wraps around your waist, his forearm pressing into your lower back.

"Honey, you wanna tell me what you're doing?" He whispers, pressing his cheek to the top of your head.

"Giving you kisses." You mumble, like an obvious fact. His skin is warm under your lips, the soft cotton of his flannel tickling your jaw.

"...Yeah, but why there?" He says slowly.

"Because," A little kiss. "You keep this button undone and I love it."

That gets a little laugh out of him, his long fingers gently scratching your scalp.

"You like that?" He says, a little amused that you find such a random, regular detail important enough to appreciate. Despite his biased (and wrong) opinion, everything about him is important enough to appreciate.

All he gets in response is another little hum, your lips continuing long kisses to his chest, your work becoming a little messy now.

"You're ridiculous, hon." He says, as if he doesn't find things like kissing your fingers when your nail polish chips a worthy excuse to kiss them.

Your lips quirk just a little as you continue with your kisses, inhaling the familiar scent of him. His flannel smells like the laundry detergent from the laundromat, and his chest smells like the cologne you bought him for his last birthday.

You both stand like that for how long, neither of you could say. Sam swears he can feel his heart coating his shoes and making a puddle around his feet from how much it's melting. You always find ways to be so sweet to him, and he doesn't quite understand how you continue to torment his heart in the best way, but you do. And he doesn’t understand how he can torment yours either, and he likely won’t ever will. But as he watches you kiss him like this, he believes it just a little.

[sugrhigh]

FAMILY TIES - ( m.s & c.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- you, matt, and chris go to a bruins game with the kids

warnings- none i don’t think!

girl dad!matt and boy dad!chris

a/n: i tried so hard to write this well and im still not sure if im satisfied, but i hope u enjoy!! kinda short but i think after this weeks podcast we all need a bit of fluff lol

@cutenote @rootbeerworshiper @bb-1s-blog @rileysturniolo @mbbsgf @sturnlova @angelworldspost @l9vesick @st7rnioiossblog

“it’s ridiculous that you always wear my clothes better than i do.” matt speaks, interrupting you as you stare at yourself in the full-length mirror.

you’re in one of his many bruins sweatshirts, which is a little too big for you so you have one side tucked into the pocket of your jeans.

you pad over to give him a quick kiss, hand pressed to his chest. “you still look very handsome.”

“thank you, babe.” he gives you a tiny pat on the ass, which still to this day makes your cheeks ignite.

your daughter, eve, comes flying around the corner into your bedroom moments later, almost running right into her dad. she’s all dressed up for the occasion too, clad in her mini bruins jersey.

“woah, slow it down there partner.” he scoops her up into his arms easily, and her eruption of laughter makes you smile.

“can we go now?” eve says through giggles.

“you don’t want to wait for uncle chris and parker?” you ask knowingly, and she sighs, leaning her small head against matt’s chin.

“i guess.”

as if on que, there’s a loud pounding on the front door, and you hear it open. eve’s face lights up, and she claps her hands together in excitement.

“they’re here, they’re here!”

“we’re here evie!” chris calls back, and the smile is clear in his voice.

matt sets your daughter down so she can run for the stairs, the both of you following closely behind her.

parker is hiding behind chris’s legs, one hand grabbing onto his dad’s black cargos for safety. the second eve comes rushing toward him, though, he opens right up as always.

they hold each other tightly for a second as you finally reach the bottom of the grand staircase, which gives you time to pull chris into a quick embrace too.

“good to see you, as always.” you grin, and he matches your expression.

“i can never turn down some family time.”

matt chuckles a little, clapping his brother on the back as they hug next. “you just want an excuse for me to drive so you can get a drink.”

“well, i can’t turn that down either.” chris jokes back.

“alright, who’s ready for some hockey?” you ask, mainly to eve and parker, who both bounce around with each other happily.

“me!”

“me too!”

you herd everyone into the car and get the kids situated in their respective booster seats beside chris. there’s always an extra in your vehicle, just in case parker is around, which is often.

you love the little guy. he really is like a mini version of his dad, and chris’s wife is gorgeous too, which also shows in his face. you were so upset when you found out she was sick, but she insisted you guys needed to go enjoy without her, so here you are.

most of the drive to the garden is spent singing along to the radio and keeping eve and parker in check. as cute as they are together as cousins, they’re also trouble. to be fair, they’re only three, so it’s in their nature.

you used to think that eve got her rebel streak from her father, but matt insisted it’s a trait that came from you. as the time went on, you realized that she’s definitely inherited it from your side of the family.

thinking about it makes you grin a little bit to yourself. she’s definitely equal parts of you and matt.

eve’s voice interrupts your thoughts, almost like she knew what was going on in your brain.

“are we there mommy?”

“almost, i promise.”

“pinky?” parker chimes in next.

“oh, of course.” you fully lean across the center console so you can extend your pinky finger to him.

he loops his own little hand with yours and shakes it, and you do the same with eve.

it seems like only seconds later you’re pulling into the arena’s parking deck, and the kids start kicking in their seats eagerly.

chris unbuckles them and helps them out into the chilly air as you round the corner of the car. thankfully they’re both all bundled up in their outfits, even complete with their little matching bruins beanies that matt had picked out months ago.

the whole walk toward the entrance, chris and matt take turns swinging parker and eve between themselves, and you’re all still laughing as you approach security.

matt scans the tickets and suddenly you’re meshing with the crowd, keeping the kids close as you head for concessions first.

the rink is all lit up as you finally make your way to your seats minutes later, equipped with two beers, two sodas, and two tubs of popcorn.

the kids munch happily from their seats as they watch warm-ups, just a couple rows back from the glass. you can’t help but beam, sneakily taking pictures of the two of them together because it just warms your heart.

“looking at the two of them kind of makes me want more, you know.” matt leans over from the seat on the other side of you, breath tickling your ear.

you nudge him playfully, though it makes your pulse skyrocket as you turn to look at him.

“just say the word.”

it’s his turn to go slack-jawed, and he has to clear his throat to force himself to stop thinking about the possibility of more children with you, the woman he fucking adores.

you’d never really talked about it after eve, since you were both so hyper-focused on her as new parents. plus, she’s always had her cousin every step of the way.

but maybe she’d like having a little brother or sister of her own.

“maybe they can stay at chris’s place tonight?” matt thinks out loud.

“let him drink that beer a little longer and i’m sure you can convince him.” you grin as you take a sip of your own.

a few minutes later the arena gets dark as the announcer hypes up the crowd, and you’re (mostly) all on your feet cheering once the bruins skate onto the ice.

parker is piggy-backing on chris’s shoulders, arms flung around his neck as his dad supports him. you’ve got eve on your hip so she can get a good view as well, watching the players while the spotlights focus in on the rink.

her eyes are as wide as saucers, like she’s totally entranced by the noise and the movement.

“daddy, look!” eve points at them excitedly, leaning in your arms so she can glance over at matt.

“i know baby! isn’t it cool?” he feeds into her enthusiasm with a wide grin.

your heart soars as you transfer her into matt’s arms, watching as he ruffles her beanie a little bit so she shrieks with laughter. it’s precious, watching him treat her like the little princess she is.

the national anthem plays shortly after, and the game officially begins. you watch as he points out players to eve, telling her different fun facts about each of them.

chris is bopping parker around on his back to the beat of the music, and he smiles along with his dad.

for a moment, you’re completely consumed by your own thoughts, so thankful for this little found family of yours. you turn your head to look at matt, and he meets your eyes immediately.

“i love you.” you mouth, unable to contain your smile.

“i love you more.” he mouths back.

[daycourtofficial]

I got cursed like Eve got bitten - part XV

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand's sister!reader | WC: 1.3k | Warnings: none

Summary: reports of a rare powered fae popping up in Illyria send Azriel and Rhysand on a journey through the past, unraveling a truth they thought long buried

Previous part | Masterlist

“How the fuck did she get that invitation?”

Azriel ran his hands through his hair as Rhys stomped into the House of Wind, his landing incredibly agitated. Azriel followed behind, remaining quiet as his brother yelled to no one in particular.

“Hello to you too, Rhys. Lovely weather we’re having.”

Rhys held up a hand in warning, the Lord of Bloodshed shrugging in response. “Now is not the time, Cassian. Someone invited my sister to a ball and I have no idea how they knew she was here, let alone who it was.”

Cassian shot up onto his feet, losing the look of amusement on his face, Nesta’s legs that were in his lap dropping as he stood. “What are you talking about?”

Rhys ground his teeth, spitting out, “apparently someone gave her an invitation to the Hewn City’s ball that’s at the end of the week.” He pulled the invitation you had handed over from his jacket, putting it into Cassian’s hands.

“Oh no, princess goes to a ball. Whatever will we do?” Nesta’s voice bordered on annoyance as she continued flipping through pages, underwhelmed at the discussion at hand.

Rhys stretched a hand out before quickly clenching it into a fist, stretching his fingers out again before balling them up. He repeated the motion a few times, desperate to keep his anger in check.

“No, Nesta, it is not that simple.”

“Are you sure?”

Rhysand took a deep breath. “Yes, I’m sure. This is a terrible idea and I don’t like any part of this.”

“She should be allowed to go where she wants.”

“I’m her brother, Azriel is her mate. I think we will decide what is best for her.”

If the ringing in Azriel’s ears would subside, he would have found humor in the looks Rhys was receiving from the Archerons.

“You’re too close to the situation, Rhys.” Feyre’s voice was raising with Rhys’s, matching his agitation.

“You’re damn right I am. We lost her once and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize losing her again.”

Feyre gawked. “A surefire way to lose her is by denying a reasonable request.”

“What is reasonable about going to Hewn City?”

“That doesn’t matter - she wants to go.”

Nesta cut through their argument, her tone sharp. “It looks as if she’s trying to do the things she was expected to do as a princess, except she doesn’t have the memories to know that’s why she’s gravitating toward it. Maybe if someone told her-”

“No.” Rhys was quick to cut her off. “Absolutely not. No one tells her.”

Nesta put her book down, moving to face Rhys. “She’s been in Velaris for weeks, Cassian still isn’t allowed to see her. What’s your plan? What if she never gets her memories back?”

Azriel stood silently, watching Rhysand and Nesta argue. He didn’t know what to do. It had been weeks of agony, his every thought revolving around you and how to tell you and how to fix everything. Azriel and Rhys argued frequently over it. He desperately wanted to tell you, and he would defy Rhys.

He didn’t care. Damn Rhys being High Lord.

You were his mate.

But everytime he tried, just on the tip of his tongue, his words would stall, one thought creeping in over and over again: what if you don’t remember? What if he tells you and you merely laughed at him? What if he lost you once more?

He couldn’t handle it, so he hadn’t told you. He felt like a coward. He was a coward. He tuned out Nesta and Rhys’s argument, uncaring of what they wanted.

He can’t give you back your memories, but he’ll give you the only thing you’ve really asked for.

-

Azriel stood in the entranceway of the River House, his shadows slightly agitated around him as he paced back and forth.

“You look nervous.”

Cassian’s gruff voice did little to soothe Azriel’s nerves.

“Something’s off about this, Cassian. I can’t figure it out.” Questions raced through his mind. Who had invited you? Did they know who you truly were? Why? Why? Why?

You had been vague about the male who invited you, and Rhysand grew even more annoyed at his inability to clear through the web of your mind.

The shadowsinger was dressed in a black fitted suit, his jacket cropped to show off his trim waist, tattoos peeking out from beneath the collar of his shirt. Blue embroidery adorned the edges of his sleeves and his lapel. Cassian was similarly dressed up, but his shirt was unbuttoned much deeper than Azriel’s was, showing off his large chest.

“Everything’s going to be fine, Az.”

At his brother’s words, he turned quickly to see Cassian bouncing his leg, stopping the action at Azriel’s gaze. He held up a scarred hand, pointing. “You’re the nervous one.”

Cassian scrunched his eyebrows in mock confusion, a look Azriel had seen thousands of times over the centuries. “Me? Nervous? Don’t be ridiculous, Azriel.”

The shadowsinger approached his brother, leaning down to look him in the eye. Cassian leaned back on the couch, spreading his legs out further to avoid Azriel’s gaze.

“You’re scared she won’t like you, hmm?”

Cassian spluttered out a string of nonsense, looking sheepishly at anything except Azriel. “Don’t be ridiculous Cassian. She never liked you, why would that change now?”

Cassian gave a dry, exaggerated laugh. “Ha ha, you’re so funny Azriel. Perhaps you should join the circus.”

“And perhaps you should-”

The words died on his tongue as one of his shadows pulled his ear harshly, nearly snapping his neck at the angle they brought his head to. The pain didn’t register to him as the breath was knocked from his lungs at the sight of you.

You looked so beautiful as you stood in the entryway smiling at him. He took in a quick breath, stealing himself at the dress you chose. Centuries ago, Mor had helped him go through the clothes at your shared home, the dresses going into storage to prevent moths or any other creatures from destroying the materials. Mor had gone yesterday to pull some of the dresses from storage and helped pick out several of your dresses that she thought would be perfect for this occasion, leaving them in your room when you had been out earlier.

Azriel would never know what compelled you to pick the dress that you did - a beautiful, deep black material, a tight bodice that flowed past your hips, flaring out to allow the wearer to walk more easily. Dark blue flowered appliques were sewn across the torso and down the skirt. The last time you wore it, he had twirled you, the blur of the flowers resembling his shadows in the dark.

He wasn’t sure if putting your hair up was some subconscious memory of the way a piece had fallen out moments before your mating ceremony, Azriel’s hands tucking it away into the braid atop your head.

If he closed his eyes, he could feel the heat from that night. How warm it was from all the candles, how the moonlight peeked in through the skylights.

The only thing missing was your wings.

“Um, hi.” He had been so lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t even registered your approach. “Are you Azriel’s other brother?”

Cassian stood at your question, denying your outstretched hand in favor of wrapping his arms around you and twirling you around.

“Yes, that’s me. I’m Cassian.”

You swayed on your feet, slightly dizzy from Cassian’s twirling. “It’s nice to meet you. Do you do that everytime you see someone you know? Or just when you’re meeting someone for the first time?”

Azriel watched the question knock Cassian off balance, raising a hand to his chest like he had been struck. “It’s how I greet fae that I know I’ll like.”

Your smile was wide taking him in. “And how do you know that?”

“Because anyone my brother likes is someone I have to know.”

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin @magicstrengthandcourage @panther-girl-124 @slytherintaco @userxs-blog @emryb

[carpkoinobori]

[†] thursday girl — giselle x reader

[𖤐] 1/1 [please be aware this is all fiction! none of this is real and idols behavior is not accurately represented.]

song(s): abbey - mitski | wife - mitski | goodbye, my danish sweetheart - mitski | circle - mitski | shame - mitski | once more to see you - mitski | thursday girl - mitski | pink in the night - mitski |

summary: you debut in SM’s newest girl group. The industry isn’t what you thought it’d be. It’ll be fine, right? or , more accurately: a girl’s guide to breaking all ten commandments.

pairing: giselle x aespa member!reader

to be honest the dynamic is more like the apple x the snake x eve

tags: angst, happy and open ending, literally just angst though, reader is raised catholic

wc: 7.3k

cw: dieting, eating disorders, religious trauma, catholic guilt, homophobia, internalized homophobia, comphet, mild implied sexual content, creepy variety show hosts and fans mentioned, the mortifying ordeal of being a girl

ex: not beta read, reader is third oldest/youngest - middle of five. reader’s stage name is Eve.

a/n: leaving this warning here. I was raised catholic. if you find negative mentions of organized religion upsetting, this one isn’t for you. NOT BETA READ ONCE AGAIN

psalm 32:1-5 Blessed is he whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man whose sin the Lord does not count against him, and in whose spirit is no deceit. When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the Lord’— and you forgave the guilt of my sin.

——————————————————————————————————— debut.

that’s what you’ve been working towards your entire life, what you hungered for, what you wanted.

since your early teen years, you’ve dreamed of debuting. You loved to perform, to sing, to dance— that’s why you were in your church’s choir group. The advent show, the way of the cross, everything— you were there.

did your parents approve of you being an idol? Absolutely not. They tried to convince you to settle down with one of the nice churchboys, the son of one of their friends. He was.. nice, okay looking. But you just didn’t like him. You dreamt of falling in love, being swept off your feet into happily ever after— but for most of your life, you had never even had a real crush! You must just not have found the right guy yet. It only counted when it was with a boy.

you auditioned for SM, and miraculously, you got in. Your days were spent training, dancing, weighing, singing, dancing, showcasing, singing, training, dancing, weighing— a cycle, really.

you met Yu Jimin and Kim Minjeong pretty early on, and you got along great with Jimin. She was catholic, and so were you! She wasn’t as dedicated as you, of course, but it was nice to have something in common.

you all didn’t get the chance to talk with Ning Yizhou a whole lot, even if she did share a dorm with minjeong. You dormed with jimin, but there was an empty bed.

that bed would be filled by one Aeri Uchinaga.

and from that day, your life would also be filled by aeri uchinaga.

The five of you were called to a meeting. You were a little worried, of course, clutching your silver cross chain and pressing the tip of it into your chest. A nervous habit.

“Hello girls,” the man began, the five of you sitting and fidgeting nervously.

“I have good news for you all. You five will be debuting as SM’s newest girl group, Aespa. Congratulations,” he smiled, and it felt like your world had just crumbled and rebuilt itself, three times over.

“We’ll begin thinking of your stage names soon, so feel free to give us some ideas. We’ll be waiting,” the man continued, and like that, the meeting ended.

you all had to celebrate, right?

The five of you met in your dorm, as minjeong didn’t want to bother the other trainee living there. You all begin thinking of stage names, and your eyes drifted to the figurine of Mary that sat on your nightstand. Jimin was thinking of using Katarina, her baptismal name, anyway! Your confirmation name could also work, but you weren’t sure.

“What if I used Mary?” You thought out loud, the other four girls turning their heads to glance at you, and the figure just behind you.

“Mary?” Jimin began. “Like, the Virgin Mary? Our Lady of Naju?” She questioned.

“Yes, I quite like the idea, don’t you?” The other girls knew you spoke a little formally, never really speaking in slang or impolitely in the slightest. It was your parents, after all. You had grown up in a secluded, small town in America, but your parents had taught you Korean, along with your own interest, reading books to perfect grammar. Sadly, that didn’t really teach you many informal words— not that your parents would allow that. You had to be a lady, of course.

“It seems a bit.. outdated, doesn’t it?” Aeri voiced, tentatively, and the other girls agreed with her. They began giving suggestions.

“What about Lily?” Jimin offered.

“Eden— no, maybe Eve?” minjeong hummed.

“Lilith!” Ning exclaimed, much to the amusement of the other girls.

“Ning, that’s similar to Lily, though, isn’t it?” Minjeong gave an amused half-smile.

“I guess so,” she sighed.

“I like Eve,” Aeri voiced, and the other girls all mostly agreed, although more name suggestions were given out, for everyone.

You debuted with the names Karina, Giselle, Eve, Winter, and Ningning.

you said a prayer every morning and every night, with the rosary that was around the figurine. A small Our Father, a Hail Mary, an Act of Contrition— no matter what, you never missed your morning and nightly prayers, no matter how small. You attended mass on Sunday, and while you usually couldn’t go in person, you’d try to listen to it in the morning, before it was time for practice, or at night, before bed— it didn’t matter how much sleep you gave up for it.

You were moved into a group dorms a bit after debut, Black Mamba being a sensational hit. You dormed with aeri, while ning and minjeong dormed together, karina having pulled the leader and oldest card to secure the single-room.

You and aeri weren’t exactly close. There was no animosity, of course, you two just never really got the chance to talk. It was definitely by chance. Not because she made your heart beat just a little faster, your steps a little more uncoordinated, your words fail. It wasn’t that. It wasn’t that at all.

you just admired the other girl. It didn’t help that you two had more than one language in common— aeri had gone to an international school, you were raised in america. You just hadn't gotten the chance to approach her, that was all.

well, the first night before the debut stage, you couldn’t sleep. You tossed and turned, finally sitting up, when—

“Can’t sleep?” aeri’s voice was low with sleep, and she was speaking in english. You felt an uncomfortable skip in your heart.

“Oh, yes, I’m just a bit restless,” you laughed, definitely not nervously. “I am, too. Just a little,” she replied, making a pinching gesture with her fingers, and a smile.

“Why?” You asked, even if it was kind of a dumb question.

aeri was silent, for a beat. At one point, you started to wonder if she was even going to respond.

“I’m just kind of.. scared,” she admitted. “We’re gonna be on display to the whole world, and who knows what’ll happen?” She chuckled, throwing her arms up just a bit. “I’m just.. worried. And.. I mean obviously, I miss home,” she added.

you looked at her, slightly, turning your head just to glance at the dark haired girl. “I know,” you murmured. “I miss home too, even if it wasn’t.. the most exciting place. I just miss it,” you continued. You were just a little afraid you were speaking too quickly in english, but aeri seemed fine. “I mean, I understand. I miss my parents,” she agreed.

you wished you could say the same. It’s not that you didn’t love your parents, but they were a little.. much. They didn’t like the fact you hadn’t found a guy yet. They’d ask you if you.. liked girls. You denied it, you didn’t! You were steadfast in your faith, dedicated, you didn’t like girls. You couldn’t.

“I miss my friends, you know. Sometimes I worry I’ll forget english,” you admitted.

“Well,” aeri gave a grin. “I’ll talk to you in english all you want if you promise to talk to me in japanese,”

you didn’t even speak japanese, but for her? you’d learn.

You smiled. “Of course,”

the two of you tried your best to sleep, after that, but it was mostly you two continuing to talk about anything and everything.

You could tell aeri was going to be one of your best friends. A reminder of home, if anything.

the debut showcase went great, the song was a hit, everything was good.

you and aeri spoke before going to sleep every night— you’d even bought a book about japanese grammar, how to read, write and speak it. You tried your best, but aeri had a nice time correcting you. It was.. nice. You always loved to learn languages, and for some reason, having someone who spoke it already help you was.. a bit comforting, in a way.

you still prayed every night, and aeri would sometimes give you a look, but she never said anything.

everything was going great.

until the hate began

Every little thing you or your group did was criticized, nitpicked, blown out of proportion— and the stress was getting to you.

you had never handled stress very well. You didn’t have a reason to. There was really nothing for you to ever stress about— other than following god, of course, but that wasn’t stressful to you. You had no reason to be stressed about something like that! You were a good person, you hadn’t ever wanted to sin.

some of the comments were about your appearance. It started to chip away at you. The company was always happy when you lost weight, so why not just a little more? It’s not like it would kill you. you were three months into an eating disorder that you called a diet.

the second you got up, you’d pray as your sustenance, head to practice, do your schedules— the other girls would order lunch, you’d ask for a salad. No dressing, of course, you didn’t like the taste. then, as you’d all get to the dorm, again, if there was even an hour of free time, you’d head to the company gym. Sometimes, when you were just in a waiting room, or you couldn’t work out— you’d pace. Anything to keep moving, you just couldn’t sit still. It was taking over your mind.

you couldn’t even eat normally. Any food given to you on a variety show, any drink, anything— mentally, you were counting. You liked to be in the negatives, you liked to skip meals, anything to be better. This was for yourself, so people couldn’t comment on you. You started to come up with even more elaborate ways to prove you were okay, to be better, you practiced more, you stayed late, you slept in the practice room, at times. You begged the vocal coaches to tell you whether or not you were actually good, and as much as they said you were, you just couldn’t believe them.

it was starting to destroy you.

“y/n?” Aeri called, as you prayed right before bed. She stood by the open room door, looking at you with a concerned expression. Why would she be concerned?

“Yes?” You answered, setting down the rosary, putting it back around the statue of Mary that watched over you so carefully. Sometimes, you wondered if you’d made her proud. Maybe if you said the suffering was in the name of god, he’d forgive you. He’d forgive you for the things you had thought and done and wanted to do. He’d forgive you. You could punish yourself, already. You could pray for him to fix you quickly, maybe you could give up eating for lent entirely—

“You.. haven’t been sleeping here, lately. We haven’t gotten.. to talk,” aeri began, sitting down next to you, looking down at you from where she had sat on your bed, right next to where you knelt.

you had completely forgotten your promise. It had just slipped your mind, you never really were awake enough for it, lately, and—

“Are you okay? You’re kind of.. pale, and you have dark circles, and-“

“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled, quickly. “It’s just.. lent,” you lied, quickly. “All catholics fast and give something up for lent, don’t worry,” you assured, waving a hand dismissively. While it was true, it didn’t call for someone to starve themselves. You were lying. That’s a sin. But it’s just a white lie, so they won’t worry, right? It’s okay, you told yourself.

“We’re worried about you,” aeri frowned, putting a hand on your shoulder, the weight making you go from a kneeling position to sitting with your legs crossed. “I’m worried about you,”

god damn aeri, and her kind personality, and her need to care for others, and she was just so good- she was such a good person, and here you were, about to ruin her, damn her to hell. You were a horrible, filthy, disgusting person. For some reason, your eyes grew hot, but you couldn’t cry. You simply stared at her, with wide eyes, like seeing god’s light, it blinded you. You wished she didn’t care about you. You wouldn’t blame her. Vaguely, you remembered the first commandment.

the first commandment. Exodus 20:1 I am the Lord your God.  You shall not have other gods beside me. You shall not make for yourself an idol or a likeness of anything in the heavens above or on the earth below or in the waters beneath the earth; you shall not bow down before them or serve them. For I, the Lord, your God, am a jealous God

“Aeri, I-” your voice cracked, and you were so determined not to cry, but you could feel your resolve breaking, because you were weak, you were weak to your vices and weak to aeri, you were so pathetic. The older girl let out a small sigh, sinking down onto the floor next to you, taking you into her arms. She was silent, for a bit, while you choked out words that were mostly incomprehensible. She ran a hand through your hair, and was a bit unsettled to feel how cold you were to the touch, but she pointedly ignored it.

“Y/n, you can’t let the words of those people get to you.. they won’t do you any good, and.. I know that’s hypocritical of me, I’m learning to ignore it too, but.. you can’t let it kill you like this,” she continued, voice soft. It made you sick how much you liked her comforting you. What would she do if she knew that you were so disgusting. You wanted aeri, you realized as you held her shirt, with some sense of finality hitting you. You didn’t want her to leave. You wanted her to hold you, and she wasn’t even aware of what you felt towards her. You were taking advantage of her. You were so disgusting.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked out, voice a little choked as you bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to cry. “I’m so sorry,” “It’s okay,” she said, a little confused on why you were apologizing, look of worry on her face. Not that you could see it. You had your head in the crook of her neck.

that’s why you were apologizing, really.

you were sorry that you loved her. You were sorry she wanted to help you. You she couldn’t fix you, no one could. you were defective, and wrong, and oh so selfish. Aeri was such a good person.

the presence of the statue on your nightstand caught your eye from the corner. You turned away. She shouldn’t have to see this.

you could feel the tears stinging at your eyes, the shame, the guilt, the hate— it was all too much. You needed to push aeri away, to get as far away from her as possible, to save what little integrity and goodness you had left—

but you didn’t.

you clutched her shirt tighter, breathed her in desperately, and let out a choked sound. You wanted to cry, but you screwed your eyes shut and bit your lip. The blood was heavy and sharp in your mouth.

You woke up the next day beyond exhausted, but in your bed and off the floor. You surmised that aeri had put you there. You held your head, and got down on your knees in front of your bed. You prayed.

“Mary, mother of God, please guide me away from sin, as you have for so many others. Help me to continue being steadfast in my faith, and to follow all commandments well. Allow me to be worthy of your son, and continue to protect me from sin. These thoughts have been given to me by the devil, as a challenge of my faith. Guide me out of temptation, and forgive my actions, in the Lord’s name, I ask for this mercy,”

you stood up. Your knees ached. Aeri was up, sitting cross legged on her bed, watching you with a concerned expression. “Why are you praying to Mary?” aeri asked, voice light but expression still a bit worried, if not a tad curious.

“Catholics pray to saints as well. Especially depending on their patronage— I mean, if I lose something, I usually pray to Saint Anthony,” you chuckled, explaining the concept.

“What’s Mary the patron Saint of?” aeri asked, softly, curiously.

“Many different things, depending on which version of her you choose to pray to. Our Lady of Lourdes is Mary, but when she appeared in Lourdes. She’s the patron saint of the sick. There’s Our Lady of Loreto, the patron Saint of pilots,”

“Which one do you have, then?”

“Our Lady of Sorrows,” you murmured, glancing towards the figure on your nightstand. The rosary was draped around her carefully. Her downcast, frowning face, her hands clasped together, the feeling of her porcelain eyes boring into your back nearly burned.

“What’s she the patron Saint of?”

“Sinners,”

the second commandment. Exodus 20:1-7 You shall not invoke the name of the Lord, your God, in vain. For the Lord will not leave unpunished anyone who invokes his name in vain.

practice that day went on for a long while. You were all practicing for next level. At one point, you took a small break, drinking water— your heart had been beating quite fast, that day, and your throat had been dry the entire practice.

during the beat change, it was nearly impossible for you to keep your eyes off aeri- or should you start calling her giselle, now? maybe it would be best to separate the two.

you shouldn’t be looking at aeri like that— but giselle was an idol. giselle was not your friend— she was someone untouchable, unattainable. It was okay to like her, to find her pretty, to want- no, no. You didn’t. You just envied her appearance, was all.

Your eyes were glued to her, the way she moved, her expression, everything, it was-

“Oh my God,” you mumbled, eyes locked onto her movements, before you heard the instructor call for you to get up and were immediately snapped out of your haze. You didn’t even remember the event before you went to sleep.

the third commandment. Exodus 20:1-11 Remember the sabbath day—keep it holy. Six days you may labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath of the Lord your God.  You shall not do any work.  For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that is in them; but on the seventh day he rested. That is why the Lord has blessed the sabbath day and made it holy.

It was Sunday. It was always a toss-up whether or not you’d have a schedule that day, and today you did not. You watched the six a.m. mass, while aeri slept a few feet away. You knelt when they knelt, stood when they stood, prayed when they prayed.

but you did not sing, no. That would wake aeri.

the girls usually used their rest days to sleep. You always woke up early. You were restless. You hated to sleep. In your dreams you’d see images of a life you could never live, of things you shouldn’t— couldn’t— do. You’d see aeri. No, not aeri— giselle. Aeri didn’t look your way on the stage, hold your gaze for a moment too long, send a wink. The company didn’t order aeri to hold you closer, smile at you more, intertwine your hands.

aeri would never look at you that way.

but giselle would.

you went to the practice room after you prayed. You rehearsed until you felt the world spin, your skin too hot- until you forgot about aeri, and giselle, and the figurine on your nightstand, and the pastor’s homilies, and the way your parents would never love you the same because of what you had done. You danced until your vision became blurry, so you couldn’t see your hands, so whatever or whoever you touched wasn’t your fault, so you couldn’t see their face. More likely, so you couldn’t see yourself, and the body you lived in. You danced until your ears rang, so you wouldn’t have to listen to the sounds, to how your members pleaded with you to stop doing this to yourself. Till you couldn’t hear the people telling you it wasn’t enough.

till you couldn’t hear yourself telling you it wasn’t enough.

till you couldn’t hear your parents words resounding in your head, the endless comments of it being unnatural, of being sent straight to the hellfire, to how it was the most hideous thing in the world.

till you didn’t hear the way fans leered after you, and your members— the stares they’d give you, as you walked, the way they’d clamber for you, so many hands reaching, reaching for you, to touch, to take. it ate you up inside, how badly you wanted to be pure. and how you knew, through it all, you never could be. they could imagine you any way, salivate, draw, take, write it in comments. They even had the confidence to say it out loud, passing comments on variety shows.

you danced till you could forget their words, their looks, what you knew so well that they thought, you danced till you thought your body would give out—

or, conversely, till the leader and main vocalist of red velvet opened the practice room door and rushed over to the the shaking body of their junior, nearly unable to breath, head in her hands and knees to her chest in the farthest corner of the room, brightly illuminated.

you wanted to assure them you were fine, but the cross chain you wore was too tight on your neck, the silver feeling like hot iron burning your throat. You swore if you looked down it would be burning into your skin, leaving a brand.

each breath felt like swallowing glass, and your eyes were unfocused, and your ears were ringing, and your body was screaming in protest of each movement, and your eyesight was blurring—

but you got up, bowed, apologized, assured them you were okay, thanked them, and left.

you had been lying a lot, lately. To your members, about how you were— to your managers, your staff, to your seniors, now. Lying was a sin. but you could excuse it, couldn’t you?

you hoped they wouldn’t mention it to your members.

the fourth commandment. Exodus 20:1-12 Honor your father and your mother, that you may have a long life in the land the Lord your God is giving you.

you rarely talked to your parents. You should call them, more. Or, more accurately, you should pick up their calls, more. Except, it was maddening. You hated talking to them. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself you didn’t, that they were your parents, and what they said was gospel, you couldn’t stand it. Their prying questions, asking how being an idol was, if you kept up with your faith, asking why the media would report on how “close” you were with your members— with Aeri. Asking why you had gotten so thin, and that you needed to gain weight. They would pick and pry at every little thing. You couldn’t stand it, you couldn’t-

the phone rang. Again. You picked up.

“Finally, you answer the phone, y/n,” the voice of your mother crackled, thousands of miles away.

“I’m sorry,” you respond, robotically, like a reflex. “I was in practice. We’re busy, since we’re preparing for a comeback,”

“You always have some excuse for us, don’t you? You can’t just talk to your parents? What a daughter, you are. We’re your parents, y/n, you should actually listen to us, more. I told you being an idol wouldn’t be good for you, and look at you now! Barely any respect for your parents, how horrible is that? I can’t believe you,” she ranted, going on and on about this and that and every failure and everything you should’ve done better.

“This is why I didn’t want you going away, I knew what it’d do to you.. we tried to fix you, but you are a sick, sick little girl,” she spat, accusingly. “You know what you did, you know what you did to this family— that I have to live with a daughter who’s-”

click.

You hung up.

her voice was so grating.

Your mother loved to spout silly little ideas, didn’t she? She was wrong. You didn’t do anything. You weren’t gay. You didn’t like girls, or a girl. They had just been confused. The reason you became an idol was because you loved to perform, not because it was your only way out— after they saw you with her. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t kiss her. You didn’t, you’d never-

the truth was that you had left your hometown because of an incident. Yes, you loved to perform, and being an idol was always on your mind. But you never thought you’d do it, how could you leave?

You soon found out what it was like to live outcasted, alone, treated like something wrong and filthy and horrible. Your parents didn’t help. So, you did what anyone would do— you ran away, off to Korea, off to the harsh idol system

because anything

anything

would be better than living with the guilt and shame, with the knowing eyes and hateful stares. anything would be better than being stuck in that suffocating smalll town, where everyone knew everyone, and all your secrets were magnified.

she had moved away, anyway. Her parents protected her. you protected yourself. You had to run.

so you did.

you had to kill that part of yourself, bury her more than six feet deep, deep enough so that the world would never find her.

You died the day your parents opened your bedroom door and found you with the daughter of a deacon, who helped at the church, who your parents had invited over for dinner, who they had been invited by for dinner. When they found you with the daughter of their friends.

they didn’t know whether to say if she corrupted you or you corrupted her.

they chose the latter, of course, they got to it first. They drove them out of town, blaming that girl for your transgressions. For your sin.

she kissed you, after all.

you just sat there and took it.

it wasn’t your fault, they said to the town. It was hers. You’re just too trusting and naïve.

if only they knew, the rest of the people. Your parents certainly did.

they forbid you from having any friends that were girls over, again.

and you understood. You knew. And you took it.

You killed that part of yourself, that day. Buried her, and tried to forget. But there’s dirt and blood on your hands and you’re still hollow. There’s nothing left of you, from before. Bright smiles and eyes, a cheery demeanor, giggling in secret with her- there’s none of that left.

You’re not a little kid anymore, a teenager with a crush, no.

You grew up. You had to.

and that little girl is dead.

dead and buried, underground.

you wished Aeri knew you when you were younger.

she would’ve loved the softer you.

the fifth commandment. Exodus 20:1-13 You shall not kill.

You know, there’s a reason priests and nuns can’t get married.

it’s because, allegedly, they’re married to god.

so, in that case, is it wrong for you, married to god since birth, by your parents— that anything, anyone other than a boy, was wrong?

you tried to understand, but you couldn’t. What was the consensus?

you knew, deep down. What you were was wrong.

and yet, you couldn’t stop. You tried. But you were weak, at heart. A sinner, with no control.

that was your downfall, you thought.

or maybe salvation.

You and Aeri were the last two in the practice room— you were near obsessive with your need to perfect choreography, and Aeri asked you for help, so— you were here. You had already released Next Level, but the practicing never stopped, obviously. You had to perfect it, make it yours, make it the best— so that’s where you were, right now.

it was late, honestly. Already dark out, and your other three members had long since left. You regretted saying yes to Aeri— you knew the choreography for next level, obviously, you knew the way Giselle moved made you feel something wrong, something dark and wanting. You tried to push it down, though— you ran through the moves together, you fixed some posturing and some other small timing issues, really, it was nothing major. You watched her run through those parts, and clenched your jaw.

you felt hot, and your hands itched to reach out and touch her. You couldn’t be making this up, could you? She was looking at you through the mirror, your flushed face barely visible from the darker corner you were sitting at. You swore you could see a smirk on Giselle’s face, for a split second, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

you hated it, hated how Giselle made you feel out of control, made you feel wanting, made that dark thing in you, shoved deep down, squirm and claw. You felt sick. You wanted her.

“I’ll be back,” you said, abruptly standing up and turning the door of the practice room, practically scrambling out. “Bathroom,” was what you supplied as reasoning, before you got out the door, rushing through the empty halls. They were weirdly eerie, at night.

you walked into the bathroom, the sound of your shoes clicking on the ground far too loud, the yellowed glow of the SM building’s bathrooms surrounding you. You gripped the sink, turning on the water and splashing some on your face. You felt dirty, and wrong. Your skin crawled in the suffocating space, the sound of running water driving you insane, the sound of your breathing almost too much. It seems you were in there for longer than you thought, though, as you stated into the mirror, lost in thought, knuckles turning white with the bruising grip you kept on the sink counter.

“Y/n?” Aeri called, opening the door.

You snapped your head to her— she was wearing just some white tanktop and sweatpants, with a black sports bra, but god.

Giselle walked over to you, with a concerned expression. “Are you okay? You’re breathing pretty hard,” she asked, walking closer, putting a hand on your hip, other hand touching your arm.

your composure snapped. You moved your hands to her face, holding it in them, looking at her with wide eyes. “Giselle, I-”

“Why are you calling me Giselle? That’s my stage name, y/n, just call me Aeri?” she said, a little confused and a little irritated. Why the hell were you calling her by her stage name?

you held her face a little tighter, taking in a sharp breath, mouth suddenly feeling dry.

“Aeri,” you murmured, voice low. You leaned in, and her eyes widened, slightly. She didn’t push you away, in fact, she met you in the middle, holding you tighter, moving her other hand to your waist, squeezing your hip, where she could feel the outline of your hipbone. You hated how much you needed her, the kiss messy and desperate, filled with an underlying sense of want and need.

“G- Aeri,” you mumbled, out of breath, panting against her mouth. You couldn’t reconcile the two, easily. Giselle was the one who was making you do this, right? Not Aeri, you didn’t like Aeri, right?

no, that wasn’t true. You liked Aeri. A lot more than you’d admit. You wanted her. You needed her. You couldn’t stop, now.

“Aeri, please-” you murmured, between kisses. They were more desperate, now, wanting, as she pushed you against the cold bathroom wall, the light flickering once. Twice. Three times.

“Yeah? What do you want?” She asked, lowly, eyes dark and pupils blown wide as she looked down at you.

“Lock the door,” you muttered, grabbing her wrist, tightly, and moving her hand upwards.

the sixth commandment. Exodus 20:1-14 You shall not commit adultery.

you and aeri never spoke about it.

but it became a thing, now.

you needed her like a drug, constantly wanting and waiting for the next time you could have her.

you and giselle shared a room, after all. you were pretty sure everyone knew. and by everyone you meant your members, of course. the public could never know, they’d ruin both your career and hers, and you couldn’t do that to her. you weren’t evil, just weak. just horrible, but not evil. you could never hurt her. you loved her, didn’t you? the way a friend doesn’t hurt a friend.

deep down, you knew. It was so much worse than that.

they couldn’t know the way you put concealer on, before practice. the way you were strangely hot and cold, terrified of her touch, but how the both of you would disappear into your room, or somewhere, together, always appearing back, more than a few minutes later, though the tension was always still there.

the way you had become a shell.

you were ashamed, really.

you felt so disgusting, all the time. here you were, dirty, filthy, robbing someone else, sullying them, damning her, all for your own selfish needs, desires, wants.

you had always wanted, too much.

giselle was your temptation and aeri was the sin, the collateral to the damage.

it’s not like she protested, either, the way giselle’s hands lingered, a beat too longer to be friendly. the way her fists would clench on those stupid variety shows, when the hosts mentioned your appearance, saying you were so pretty.

she hated how they’d look at you.

but you couldn’t see that, really.

you hated yourself, and you had stolen aeri’s sanctity.

it was giselle’s fault, though, you would think, sometimes.

but deep down, you knew the truth.

it was your doing. Your fault. You ruined everything you touched, everything you wanted would die and burn because you were a sinner. All because you couldn’t control yourself.

eve ate the apple, too, you’d think. but maybe, the snake wasn’t just the creature, no, but the whispers of lilith, beckoning her away, promising her everything she’d wanted. forbidden knowledge, godhood, becoming better— and maybe, even herself.

was biting the apple an act of naivety, of greed?

or the blind, blissful ignorance of trust? of love?

someone you loved wouldn’t damn you, would they?

but oh, you knew better. You knew.

you had stolen both of your chances of sanctity and holiness.

out of blind, ignorant, nearly all encompassing love.

it was love.

the seventh commandment. Exodus 20:1-15   You shall not steal.

The weeks went by, in this strange commitment.

you had just arrived back from yet another variety show, and Giselle was obviously annoyed at something. It was late, and everyone wanted to sleep. You made your way back to your room, the door open a crack—

giselle was changing into some sleep clothes. You didn’t really care which. the glimpse of her back, of skin, made you nearly feel ill. You shut the door, quickly, feeling like you couldn’t breathe. It made you feel sick.

you entered about a minute later, to see her scrolling on her phone, with a bored expression. You, instead, went and knelt in front of the small Mary statue you kept.

“Mary, mother of God, please hear my prayer. I’m asking you to give me the strength to-”

your breath hitched as you felt giselle put her hands on your shoulders, leaning into your back, feeling her smirk press against your neck.

“y/n,” she called, a mischievous lilt to her voice like this was a fucking game.

“y-yes?” was the reply.

Her hands moved, pressing along your collarbone.

“You know, I hate variety shows, sometimes,” she hummed, voice so unbelievably distracting. “I don’t like the way they talk about you,” she continued.

“I- I agree, I do, it’s quite-”

her blunt nails dug into your shoulder, slightly, as she pulled you back, just a bit, your back pressed to her front. Her head craned forward, to murmur into your ear. “It pisses me off,” she added.

of course, you tended to her anger. You had to, as penance.

later, when you were laying beside her, panting with tears in your eyes, saying anything that came to mind—

“I love you,” you choked out, reverently, like a prayer.

god never responded to those, usually. aeri didn’t love you back.

there’s no way god loved you. and aeri didn’t, either.

the eighth commandment Exodus 20:1-16 You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.

“Tell me not to,” you begged, clutching onto giselle like a lifeline, holding her arms. “Tell me no, tell me not to love you. I can’t, I shouldn’t, I don’t want-”

girls never hungered. They never want, like a boy.

“And what if it’s what I want!” She spat back, acidly, pushing you off. “I love you, and I don’t know why you can’t accept that! I love you, not like a friend, or coworker, or whatever else you think! I’m in love with you, why can’t you get that!?” she asked, sharply, voice far too loud.

you didn’t know how to explain that you loved her, too, that you wished you could love her. You always wanted, so badly, to like a boy, and to love him, so you could hold his hand in public, and kiss him, and introduce him to your parents and they wouldn’t say a word, to be able to love him without just that fact being controversial, to love someone without it absolutely ruining your career. Idols couldn’t date, yes, but they’d survive if they were rumored to be with a man.

god forbid it was a girl.

you couldn’t ruin her career, or yours. You couldn’t damn her more, you couldn’t ruin everything, like you always did-

“I can’t,” you cried, desperately. “I’ll ruin everything, I’ll ruin you, I’d-”

“I don’t care!” she retorted. “I don’t care! I want you, and I love you. Is it that you can’t, or you won’t? You’re just scared,” she accused, rightly so.

“I am,” you admitted, pathetically. “I’m scared.”

She scoffed, clenching her fists. She turned, sharply, turning the door handle, wiping her eyes and slamming the room’s door.

You were alone.

god abandoned you, long ago.

you don’t know why it hurt more the second time.

the ninth commandment Exodus 20:1-17 You shall not covet your neighbor’s house. You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.

it was a few days later, at night after an off day. You had been hiding in your room most of the day. Cowardly, yes, but the other members weren’t exactly thrilled with you. You couldn’t blame them. You were currently pretending to be asleep.

you heard aeri enter the room. She laid down, to sleep. The lights were off. It was dead silent. You turned.

“aeri,” you called. No response.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” you continued, after surmising she was asleep. “I love you. I really do. I’m just so, so scared. I don’t know how to let myself love you. I feel wrong. I’m sorry. I want to. I don’t know how to love you how you deserve, I don’t even know how to love myself. Im weak and pathetic, really. If you knew the real me, I think you’d hate me,” you chuckled, without humor. “As long as you’re happy, though. I’ll be okay,” you murmured, finally.

“Im not happy, actually,” she informed, suddenly, and you felt your heart leap into your throat. “I love you, y/n. I don’t care if it’ll make everything more difficult, or if you think I’ll hate you. I won’t, by the way,”

you didn’t know how to respond. aeri did it, for you.

she got up, walked over to your bed, and made you sit up.

“so can you stop being scared? I love you, and-“

you cut her off.

you clutched her face, and kissed her, desperately. You felt tears well in your eyes, and this time, they fell. You pulled back.

“aeri, I love you, I love you so much. I love you, please forgive me. I’ll try, I swear. Please, just-”

she kissed you, again. nothing was completely fixed, yet, but you both loved each other. You were still scared, of course, but aeri had seen you at your worst, already, and was still here. so maybe, it was okay.

the tenth commandment. Genesis 1:1-Revelation 22:21 Love thy neighbor as I have loved you.

The last few weeks had been.. different.

You had started eating again, or, more frequently, was a better way to put it.

it was mostly because aeri had taken up cooking, and you could never say no to her, and it was kind of nice, really, to see her happy when you told her you liked the food.

you started to ignore the comments online, not even bothering to read them most of the time. You called your parents less, if that was even possible, and started talking with aeri and your members more.

it was nice, to have friends. To have people that you knew cared about you. It was nice to know that people didn’t view you as disgusting, or filthy, or wrong.

you had a hard time viewing yourself, differently, but if someone like aeri, someone so good, could stand you, then maybe, you weren’t as bad as your parents said you were. They were wrong about a lot, you’d come to learn.

on one of your breaks, you had found another statue.

it was of Saint Maria.

you put it next to the statue of Our Lady. You thought it fit, in a way.

you didn’t attend sunday mass, or hear it. You didn’t pray much, anymore, either. but you kept the statues as a reminder, of sorts.

aespa had been doing very well, as well, and you didn’t practice late into the night, as much, anymore.

all of you were currently deciding what takeout to order, and trying to pick a move. no one could really come to a final decision, and you watched the bickering amusedly. You got up, heading to the kitchen, filling a glass with water. Aeri appeared behind you, a sly smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around your waist. “Hey, y/n,” she hummed.

“Yeah?” you replied, turning your head. she had a smirk on her face.

“I got you somethinggg,” she grinned, tilting her head, a mischievous expression on her face, her hands clasped behind her back.

“what is it?”

she handed you a gold necklace, with rose quartz in the shape of a heart at the end, a bashful expression beginning to take place at your silence. “I didn’t know if you would like it, but it reminded me of you, so-”

“It’s perfect,” you interrupted, a genuine smile on your face. “Can you put it on for me?”

aeri removed the silver cross necklace you had worn for years, and years, placing it on the counter. She clasped the new necklace, the gold sitting pleasantly on your skin.

you turned to her, holding her face before kissing her, smiling into it. You left the chain on the counter, a smile plastered near permanently your face. “It’s beautiful, aeri, thank you,”

“Of course,” she replied, with a very self-satisfied grin on her face.

“I love you,” you added, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I love you too, you sap,” she rolled her eyes, good naturedly, but still held you, too. “Come on, let’s go back— i’m not letting them watch a disney movie for the millionth time,”

“So what, you can watch Deadpool?” You teased, with a grin.

“Maybe,” she replied.

it was definitely certain, now, with the silver chain thrown in the garbage, easily.

you loved aeri uchinaga

and you hoped, prayed, even, that the rest of your life would be filled by aeri uchinaga.

A/N: hi guys… so I love aeri uchinaga btw. uhmm so basically the catholic version of the Ten Commandments the ninth commandment is separated into nine “don’t covet your neighbors wife” and ten “don’t covet your neighbors goods” but technically all Ten Commandments can be followed by following the one big rule which is “love thy neighbor as I have loved you” and basically symbolism forever eve breaks all nine commandments but follows the one big one which is like love everyone which means she never actually sinned she just thought she did because she is doomed yuri ☝️🤓

I LOVE TOXIC YURI AND DOOMED YURI FOREVERR pleek send asks+reqs btw I need ideas

[samkerrworshipper]

hard times | awfc x reader

arsenal reader struggles with PTSD and new year’s eve is a particular struggle… but the arsenal girlies are there for her even if she doesn’t know she needs them

warnings: PTSD, anxiety, mentions of violence, mentions of guns, anxiety attacks, mentions of childhood trauma

You don’t even notice you’re shivering and tearing up under your duvet.

New Year's Eve for most people is a night of celebration, a night of partying, a night of celebrations. For you, not so much.

New year's eve ranks pretty high up on your least favourite days of the year.

Instead of being fun and full of celebrations it was a night of terror and fear.

That’s how you’d gotten under your duvet, the covers of your bed providing a very small shield from the outside world.

It wasn’t a good fix to stop the current downpour of sound around you, you’d tried it all, airpods, earplugs, music, none of it worked.

So you’d settled for clenching your palms down onto your ears, it wasn’t providing any reprieve from the noise cascading around you, but for whatever reason it felt necessary.

This wasn’t even the worst of it, you knew it was only so long until the fireworks started, and as soon as that happened it was almost a guarantee that you would be thrown into a whole different level of stress.

It had been this way since you were a kid, new years eve was a nuisance, a figment of your worst nightmares.

You wished you could go out and celebrate, that you could be normal and be happy.

But ever since your childhood, since it all happened, loud noises and bright flashing lights have always been a big struggle for you.

So, every year, you go through the same routine of hiding under your covers until it’s all over. Normally, the loud noises coming from London strike up a pretty serious anxiety attack, so you don’t bother with hurting your friends with your presence, knowing that all you will be is a burden for them on a night that is supposed to be fun.

It’s fine, you’re used to it, this year though it’s a little bit harder.

With your transfer to Arsenal in the previous January trade period you had quickly found a new family amongst the Gooners.

It was so hard for you to decline the invite to the celebrations for the evening, especially considering that almost every other holiday over the year had been spent with one or a couple of your teammates.

That was the hard part of being the only person left in your family, it was the reason for your stupid fear.

It all simmered down to one stupid night that wrecked your whole life.

Just as you had begun to become completely absorbed with the thoughts in the back of your mind, you were taken out of your trance by a quiet voice and the mattress you were sitting on flexing downwards.

“Hiya honey, you wanna come out for me?”

It’s Beth’s voice, sweet, kind, lovely Beth who definitely should not be in your apartment right now.

It makes you wonder if you are potentially dreaming, sometimes when you get really anxious delirium is a side effect.

“Beth?”

You reach down to pinch your thigh, hard, and it hurts, enough for you to be sure that you aren’t dreaming,

“Yeah hon, I’m right here.”

Her voice is enough for you to pull the covers over your head, the duvet falling into your criss crossed lap.

Beth is perched on the corner of your bed, a smile mixed with concern and care reflecting back towards you.

“What are you doing here?”

Your words are murmured, and spoken downwards towards your lap, because you can’t quite find it in you to look at your older teammate.

“It’s new years, silly, we couldn’t leave you out of the celebrations, the girls that are in town are in the kitchen.”

It’s said so nonchalantly, like this is some organised plan that has been set in stone for weeks, even though this is the first you’re hearing of it.

Suddenly, a firecracker or something goes off somewhere in the distance and your body is jolting on the bed, fresh tears accumulating in the corners of your eyes as your whole face pinches shut whilst the waves of memories wash over your body.

“I thought you guys said you were going to South Bank to do the fireworks and celebrations.”

South Bank isn’t far from your apartment, a couple of blocks south, unfortunately for you, most definitely close enough for the fireworks to be seen and heard.

“Who needs fireworks? We’d rather hang out here with you.”

It makes your jaw clench and your eyebrows furrow, they’ve cancelled their plans to come to your apartment and you aren’t completely sure why.

“Beth, why are you here?”

It’s blunt, but with everything happening and your body in survival mode you don’t have time to beat around the bush, especially with the ticking time bomb which is leading to midnight.

“Less told us that you really struggle with new years, so we’re here for you.”

You know that all of the girls on the team, whether they mention it or not, know about your past, about what happened when you were a child, what led to you moving in with Alessia when you were 14.

Unfortunately for you, she’s spending her break with her parents in New York, so your normal emotional support for nights like these was unable to make it here tonight.

Something doesn’t feel the same about having Beth, and whoever else she’d managed to congregate being here with you, especially when you were significantly vulnerable.

“Beth, I appreciate it, but I don’t want to worry you guys, head down to South Bank, just leave me be. Tonight’s pretty hard for me and I don’t feel like doing much.”

Beth scoots her body up closer to yours, close enough that she can lift her hand up and set it down on your thigh, it doesn’t go unnoticed the way you slightly flinch away from her, the jumpiness running rampant in your body due to the anxiety.

“We’re not going anywhere, we’ve got you, let us take care of you yeah, you don’t have to do anything, at all, just sit on the couch and relax.”

You want to fall directly into Beth, let her give you a big hug and never let go, but there is still a part of you trying to obtain your self dignity.

“Beth, you don’t understand, tonight's really hard for me, and I don’t want you guys to have to deal with it, it’s not exactly something I’m proud of.”

Beth’s hand moves from your thigh, upwards until it’s gently sitting on your jaw, angling your face upwards so you are looking at her.

“Let us be here for you, between myself, Vivi, Leah, Lia, Kim, Laura, Jen, Lotte I’m sure we can all figure out some way to make tonight a little bit easier for you. You don’t have to explain anything, you don’t have to talk about it, we’re just here to show you some love and help you however you need, celebrations be damned.”

It’s hard to refuse when Beth’s kind, concerned and caring eyes are reaching deep into your soul. Tonight is hard, for you it’s like walking up mount everest, and it’s not exactly like you want to break down in front of your teammates but Beth seems pretty persistent about the fact she isn’t leaving.

“After the break in, after my parents and brother were killed, any loud noises resembling guns make me have anxiety attacks, it’s why I don’t like new years.”

Beth just nods and smiles, accepting the information but deciding to let you do the explaining instead of asking questions.

“That’s understandable, anyone in your position would feel the same, I’m sure it must be pretty tough, especially considering that you are still young.”

You bit down on your tongue, nodding to Beth, it is really fucking hard, especially considering that you don’t have anyone to talk about it with, because how could anybody understand.

“It’s why I freaked out a few months ago when you guys were popping balloons after Leah’s birthday party, I can’t help it, it just sometimes comes over me and I can’t control it.”

Beth nods immediately, feeling the guilt roll into her stomach at the memory of her and Katie popping all of the balloons, Beth now recollecting how you left with Alessia almost as soon as it happened.

“Y’know after my mom died it took months for me to be able to go anywhere near a hospital, Viv had to drag me to the doctors for my yearly check up. It’s funny what grief does to us. You want to know what works best for me?”

Beth is trying to find common ground, praying that it’ll work and exceptionally glad when you give her a little nod with your chin.

“I try to distract myself, whether it’s getting Vivi to talk to me or playing a game or watching the telly, helps take my mind off things, how about we try that and see if it’ll work with you, yeah?”

The idea makes you feel a little bit funny, but you are brutally aware of the fact that Beth is trying really hard right now to help you and you really want to be good for her and show her that you can do that.

“Okay, but I need it to be quiet, please.”

Beth just smiles and nods, her layed back demeanour shining through as she stood up from the bed, extending her hand to you.

Your hand is shaking furiously, but you manage to extend it out towards her, letting her own hand steady your as she pulls you up off the bed and gently tugs you towards the door of your bedroom.

To your surprise, when you exit the room the kitchen and loungeroom of your apartment are fairly quiet.

Lia, Kim and Viv are busy in your kitchen, pouring and distributing drinks and plates of pizza. Leah, Laura and Lotte are seated on your couch, a board game of sorts set out on the table, Jen is also joined in on the game, except she’s sitting on the floor directly in front of the table.

Viv, Kim and Lia all send a big smile your way as you slowly enter the room, it’s a spectacle to you, watching the group happily enjoying themselves in your apartment on a night where they could be doing far more than just lazing around.

“Do you want to go sit down on the couch, I know for a fact Leah will be cheating, you could go keep an eye on her, or stay up here in the kitchen with us, it’s up to you.”

The couch sounded nice, and you were aware of the fact that your body was quite tired and worn down from all the stress of the night.

So you cautiously stepped over to the couch, as soon as Leah saw you walking towards her she opened her arms up big and wide for you.

You didn’t second guess it, practically throwing yourself into Leah comfy and warm embrace, her body acting as a cushion to you.

The joint pressure and warmth from the hug did wonders at lifting some of the pressure off of your chest.

“How ya feeling?”

Leah’s voice is soft, whispered directly in your ear so that nobody else hears it besides you.

“I’ve been better, but having you guys here is nice, you don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

Leah just smiled, taking a break from the monopoly game they were playing to look at you.

“It’s nothing, we’re here for you whenever you need us, just trying to make the night easier for you however we can.”

You nod gently, Leah’s arm wrapping around your torso to give you a big hug and essentially bond you to her side.

“The fireworks are the worst for me.”

Leah nods, her eyes are so understanding, there isn’t any form of humour or disgust in them, just pure interest.

“Just watch the game yeah, don’t think about the fireworks, I know it’s hard, but just try. We could put on a show for you, how about the new episode of Love Island?”

It’s a offer that you can’t decline, so Leah gets Jen to chuck her the remote, turning on the tv and flicking it directly onto your favourite show.

You relax into Leah, your body falling limp against her and using her as a pillow whilst you intently watch the tv.

It’s all going fine, or as fine as it can be until you can distantly hear a countdown coming from somewhere outside your apartment.

Almost immediately it sets off alarms inside your body, your legs and torso jolting up from the couch.

Just as you are about to rush off, most likely back under your covers or into your bathroom, Leah’s arms grab a tight hold of you, bringing you flush against her body. In a matter of seconds, Viv, Beth and Kim are all surrounding you, somehow sheltering you from the noise outside.

You feel like a feral dog, thrashing against Leah, trying to get away from her, from your teammates, from the world.

As soon as the noises hit your ears though, you stop moving, both of your palms crushing down against your ears to try and drown out the cracking and popping sounds booming from outside your window.

Leah holds you tight to her chest, even as you begin to sob and the panic begins to overtake your body, every time it happens you feel like you are going to die, like this time it’ll be the last and inevitably you know that your wrong, that unfortunately you will live to see out the next year, but it doesn’t make the whole process easy.

Suddenly your brain is crowded with thoughts, memories, sounds.

The sound of your front door being broken down, nobody hearing but yourself, giving you the opportunity to push yourself out of bed and into one of the cupboards in your wardrobe.

Then the sound of heavy feet, doors creaking, and heavy, thunderous, cacophonous gun shots.

No matter how many times you relive it, no matter how many years go by that sound will never disappear from your mind, it’s unforgettable and haunts every single one of your nightmares.

It’s all consuming, until somebody is taking a hold of your face, and staring at you directly in your eyes.

“Y/n, listen to me, you’re safe, we’re all here for you, we’re in your apartment, safe inside, nobody is here to hurt you or anybody else, you’re at home and it’s safe here.”

Kim’s captain's voice is both soothing and terrifying, the Scottish players' words are strong and coated in directness.

Once she notices that you are hearing her she continues.

“We’re here for you, we’re safe, breathe for me honey, deep breaths, you’re here, not out there, don’t worry about any of that, just look at me and breathe.”

You nod at Kim, even as the tears are streaming down your face and you are struggling to breathe, you listen to her.

“Good job, keep breathing, remember where you are, we’re all safe in here with you, nothing or nobody is going to hurt you, I swear.”

Kim’s words do wonders to help you, and with her assistance, as well as Leah’s strong hold, Laura’s hands gently massaging your scalp, Viv’s strong fingers drawing patterns all over your arms, Lotte gently rubbing the tensed up parts of your calves, Beth holding the parts of you Leah can’t and Lia and Jen both flanking kim, looking at you with the same care and concern as she is looking at you with.

It’s a team effort, but you feel completely enveloped by your teammates love and care as you come down from the panic.

“Doing so well for us y/n, it’s all over now, you;re safe, we’ve got you, we’re not going anywhere.”

You look out to the window, temporarily removing your eyes from Kim’s and realising that your captain is in fact correct, all the noises, lights and pain has stopped, the world is quiet and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

Slowly, as you become more aware of the world and your surroundings, one by one each girl gently removes themselves from you, until you’re left with just Leah, Beth and Viv, the three stragglers who are tasked with getting some food and water into you before sending you off the bed.

It’s a easy enough job, you’re spent and pliant, so Viv force feeds to a slice of pizza whilst Beth forces you to choke down some kind of electrolyte drink.

Once the two are done doting, they both leave you with a kiss on the forehead and gentle words whispered into your ear about how proud they are of you.

Leah is the one tasked with getting you into bed, and she does just that, getting you tucked properly on the covers before giving you a goodnight forehead kiss.

It feels weird watching her walk towards the door, like your being deserted, and you’ve been needy enough as it is tonight but you can’t help but reach out to Leah.

“Stay till I fall asleep, if it’s no trouble?”

Leah just nods and smiles like you’re asking her for a piece of gum, the blonde moving onto the empty side of your bed and leaving her hand flat against your back.

“You’re no trouble at all honey, we’ve got you, any time but especially on these nights.”

[blackbirdsblackberries]

Yan batfam X reader in a cult!

Okay, this one was one I had thought of a bit ago and dwelled on it.

Reader is apart of a cult called "Daughters of Eve" which is a cult of SA survivors who look to a deity to enact revenge on their abusers. (I will be using my experience with SA for a big chunk of it because it is rather touchy to talk about).

Reader was found by one of the heads when they were a child and were taken in. They were indoctrinated and were essentially raised to be grateful towards outsiders and to not trust anyone against the cult or aren't a part of the cult.

Batman decides to look into the cult as they've moved bases to somewhere in Gotham and are therefore his business now. He ends up finding the base but it was too risky for just him and Damian to go alone and without a proper fleshed out plan.

They call in Steph and Cass to pose as civilians seeking to join the cult - both obviously agree.

When they finally enter the cult they share a room with reader and another girl (the other girl isn't important to the plot per se). Reader is closed off and when Steph tries to engage in physical contact reader rejects it. Despite it reader treats them better than others treat the two.

They cling to reader and report back to the batfam, who have all gotten involved at this point, updates and such. Soon Steph gets attached and falls down into a spiral of madness and brings Cass down.

The Batfam who are getting reports detailing Reader decide to find as much info as possible - which is close to none. The small parts they find lead them to Reader's home from before they were taken in by DoE.

They find videos of tiny reader, diary entries from the mother/father, toys, Reader's bedroom, etc.

Though they don't go full yandere yet.

They finally bust DoE and arrest everyone involved and they properly meet Reader. Bruce takes reader in and slowly the rest of the family will start their decent into being a yandere.

Characters included in this story:

Stephanie Brown

Cassandra Cain

Bruce Wayne

Alfred Pennyworth

Damian al Ghul-Wayne

Tim Drake

Jason Todd

Dick Grayson

(minor Talia al Ghul, Selina and Superfam)

*Duke and Barbara won't be included until I know the way they'd be a yandere and how it can tie in with the rest of the family, sorry!

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬

★ synopsis: you're not just friends, but you're not more than that either. he's the epitome of unreadable and unavailable, leaving you confused, hurt, and lost.

★ character: xavier

★ cw: first person pov, really angsty, like REALLY angsty (i chose violence my bad), college au, situationship plot

★ word count: 4.3k

★ a/n: before i say anything im so sorry. like i was not expecting it to be this angsty but then it was and...well i couldn't stop it. i will for sure write a happy ending for this if someone would like that!! i think xavier would be a situationship final boss cause bro cannot manage his feelings. also can you tell i really like college au's... anyways, enjoy!!

His hands rest on the curve of my waist, firm and possessive, as if his fingers might weave through my ribs and anchor themselves there. His touch lingers with a quiet desperation, a reminder of everything we’ve shared. Once you’ve seen so much of someone, their fears, their desires, the way their eyes light up in the smallest moments—walking away feels like tearing apart something sacred, like committing a sin against the universe itself.

I stare at his sleeping face. I could protect him, my heart a sanctuary warm enough for him to find peace. He’d never have to wander again, never ever need to leave. The softness of his skin could soothe the ache buried deep within me, erasing the sickness with a quiet, tender touch.

He has my heart trapped like a bird.

Part of me wonders if he knows how he’s holding me, if he finds comfort within his slumber and dreams with my body pressed against his. Or if he’ll stir and realize, turning away and leaving me to stare at the muscles in his back that flex as he sleeps.

I trace circles onto his bicep, like the circles he runs around us.

I had met Xavier a little over a year ago, he was a friend of a friend, and we met at a small house party that a few mutuals of ours had thrown. He was like a star, shining so brightly in the room it drowned out everyone else. He was standing in a corner talking to Jeremiah, a good friend of mine that I shared some classes with. The way Xavier shyly smiled at me when Jeremiah introduced us made my heart feel like King Arthur’s sword, and someone had finally managed to capture it.

We talked the rest of the night, never leaving that spot in the corner. I paid no mind to anyone else I knew in that house, all that mattered was the beautiful cosmic boy I was encountering.

He found me again in the library a few weeks later, lightly tapping my shoulder and asking if he could study with me. Xavier was an astronomy major, ever so fitting for the star-boy who sparkled like constellations no matter where he went. The way his face lit up when asked about space was a vision I wanted to replay behind my eyelids every time I slept.

Xavier quickly became one of my best friends, and every second I spent with him was a second closer to my demise.

With him, I had tunnel vision. It didn’t matter how many guys my friends tried to set me up with, none of them were Xavier.

He was all I ever wanted.

I had never wanted anything as bad as I wanted Xavier. In my eyes he hung the moon and the stars. My love for him was an insatiable hunger that only he could cure; if he was Hades I would’ve taken that pomegranate from his tree, sacrificing my life to spend the rest of my time in hell just so I could spend eternity with him. I’d put myself on display for him so he can play God on judgement day, I’d let him carve his name into me so I’d remember what to say, I’d do anything he asked.

He’s the serpent and I’m Eve.

Xavier was hard to read, it was like trying to understand the plot of a book in pig latin. One moment he’s sitting so close to me I can smell his shampoo, looking me in my eyes and smiling so widely I thought his cheeks would hurt, as he twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. He’ll cut me off mid sentence and tell me I look beautiful, and watch me as if I’m a movie he’s been waiting years to see.

The next moment? I don’t see him for days; I don’t get texts, no photos and complaints about his astronomy homework, no little alien gifs, no hellos or goodbyes. He disappears without a trace, and the only proof I have that he ever existed is the ache in my heart when I realize he’s pulling away again.

I’ve never gotten anything I’ve ever wanted, but once, I got close. Xavier had showed up at my dorm on a storming Saturday night at 1 AM like a sopping wet dog in the hallway, his first appearance in a week. Slurring his speech, blubbering about how Jeremiah and their friends dragged him out to the bars.

“M’sorry I just showed up, I wanted to see you…Just see you…”

Drunk off his ass, the pity for him overcame my anger. I gave him a change of his own clothes, hoodies and sweatpants I had borrowed and never gave back, the only pieces I had of him when he would turn into a ghost again.

Xavier watched me as I maneuvered around the room, grabbing him a glass of water, his eyes bleary and lips mumbling breathless words I couldn’t catch.

“Hey.”

I turned to look at him, his cheeks and ears red from the alcohol. He was sprawled out on my bed shirtless after refusing the hoodie, declaring the room was too hot. Xavier gestured for me to come closer, and as I approached the bed, he yanked my wrist down causing me to collapse onto his bare chest. His half-lidded eyes scanned my face, hand snaking up my waist.

“Is this okay?” He said through breathless kisses on my shoulder. Holding my body very still, I thought if I moved I may wake up.

“Xavier, you’re drunk.” I whispered, my words betraying my thoughts. He stilled, and I internally punched myself. Pulling back far enough I could see his eyes again, he smiled and placed a kiss on my palm. I couldn’t help but smile back, as my heart lurched out of my chest and into his hands for good. Xavier slowly and awkwardly flipped me onto my back, stumbling a bit through his inebriation. He mumbled words of adoration, planting kisses that burned like the fire of a star all over my face and skin.

“Perfect… So perfect… You’re like Venus, so full of love… Beautiful girl…”

Xavier kissed me like I was broken and he was thread, trying to sew me back together. The moment was holy, his heart singing to mine like a psalm. I memorized the movement of his lips against mine, cherishing the taste of cheap beer on his tongue.

“I love you.”

He fell asleep next to me, as I stayed awake staring at the ceiling, wondering what this meant for us.

Nothing, I suppose.

Xavier never mentioned it, and I never felt the courage to bring it up. It was only a fleeting moment, but it stuck with me like a plague, hanging over my head. It left the soft moments with him more confusing, the compliments more intimate, the feelings more frustrating.

I stare at him asleep holding me, face gentle through dreams, and I want to cry. Falling asleep next to me was nothing new, crashing in my dorm after movie nights or study dates. ‘No it’s okay, don’t sleep on the floor. We can just share the bed.’

I am a ticking time bomb, and I’m going to explode.

My heart is trapped like a bird.

-

“Honestly, I really think you should just confront him,” Tara flips through the pages of her textbook, “it’s not getting you anywhere not knowing what he thinks.”

I throw my face in my hands, letting out a groan and tangling my fingers in my hair, “It’s not that easy. What am I gonna say? ‘Hey, we kissed once so what are we?’ Do you know how crazy that sounds!”

“You forgot the part, ‘you also spend the night in my bed a lot’ or, ‘you told me you loved me’.”

“Friends do and say stuff like that all the time!” Shuddering at the thought of rejection, I hold up a finger to silence Tara, “Plus I’m not sure I even want to know. I think staying in the dark is better for everyone.”

She rolls her eyes, slamming the textbook closed, “Right. Okay, fine, that’s fine. Just quit complaining, I’m gonna tear my hair out.” Walking over, she places a kiss to the top of my head, “You know I love you, but I’m gonna kill both of you if I have to hear about it one more time.”

Tara leaves for class, and I’m left alone in the library with my thoughts and an exam to study for. I feel the pads of Xavier’s fingertips against my skin leftover from last night, and the feeling of emptiness when I woke up and he was gone. No text saying he had left for class, just radio silence and his body imprinted in my sheets. It’s moments like this, when I’m convinced I’ve got him right outside my grasp, he’d fall back out of reach.

I’m about to put on my headphones and tune the world out, when I hear a man's voice.

“Are you studying for the exam?”

I look up, and I see the boy who sits next to me in my stats class, Rafayel. His hair is a mess, and his black sweater has a few paint stains on them. I assume he’s just come from the studio, as his satchel is hanging loosely over his shoulder, his portfolio book sticking out. Rafayel’s an art major and never fails to complain the whole time about how the class is required for him, but he’s ‘never even gonna use this stuff’.

I huff, staring at my laptop screen, “Yeah, trying to at least.”

Rafayel slips into the seat Tara was just in, throwing his satchel on the floor beside him, “Oh good, you can help me then!”

I'm grateful for the distraction, as Rafayel is a sweet guy and a good break from the chronic thoughts of Xavier. His glances at me in class while I try to work on a concept with him don’t go unnoticed, or the way he doodles me on the corner of his paper, flashing me a grin when I point to the drawings. He would be so perfect, the artsy goof who showers me in attention, clingy, comedic and kind;

But he’s not Xavier.

“How am I supposed to help you with this if you’re busy drawing?” I tap his sketchbook with my pen. Rafayel looks up from his work with a frown, “I’m getting bored!”

He snatches my pen from my hand to stop my tapping, “Hey, why don’t we go to the cafe for a quick break? My brain could use it.”

“You’ve been studying for fifteen minutes.”

“So? You’re supposed to take breaks after twenty minutes, it’s been like, scientifically proven or whatever.”

He stares at me with a big smile, and I know I can’t say no to him. Literally, I wouldn’t be allowed.

When we got to the cafe, the place was packed and I internally groaned. Looking around the bustling coffee shop, it was uncomfortable just how busy it was. Waiting in line practically squished next to Rafayel, I rested my head on his shoulder as I had done many times in class before. He draped his arm around my shoulder, going on about how one of his professors gave him a bad grade on a painting because he used the wrong shade of blue. I thought about how nice it would be to stand like this with Xavier, but I never felt as if I could get close enough to try.

Trying to shake off the thoughts about him, I thought about Rafayel’s arm around me. The way his finger would poke my shoulder as he talked to put emphasis on his words, or the way his bicep flexed on the back of my neck as he moved. It was comforting in a way, secure. It was protective. Safe.

“Oh my God, I hate that dude.” Rafayel scoffs, looking at a table in the corner. Following his eyes, I caught a glimpse of tousled platinum hair. Meeting his blue eyes, my breath hitched in my chest, body freezing against Rafayel. I couldn’t read a single ounce of emotion on his face, just feeling his stare bore into me.

My first instinct wanted to rip away from Rafayel, let Xavier know I was still his. Yet-

I’m not. I’m not his, and he’s not mine.

I remember the feeling of defeat this morning when I woke up, body tired from staying up and watching the rise and fall of his chest, mind exhausted from the push and pull, chasing after him and never quite catching up.

Leaning farther into the boy beside me, I look away from Xavier and look up at Rafayel.

After all, the key to moving on is finding someone new.

“Which one?” I ask him, not sure if he’s referring to anyone else at that table. It was a group of Xaviers friends, people I had met briefly.

“The blonde one, he’s in one of my gen ed classes and he’s a total prick.” Rafayel stares back at Xavier, and I try to avoid his piercing eyes, focusing on picking at a piece of lint on Rafayels sweater.

“Oh, yeah. I know him.” I don’t want him to be introduced to that part of my world. Rafayel is pure, untainted by the chaos. I didn’t want to drag him into the hurricane.

-

After that, I didn’t hear from Xavier for a while. Though his silence wasn’t uncommon, I couldn’t help but think this time it may have been provoked by the moment in the cafe. I saw him around campus a few times, in his usual spots, but when he’d notice me he’d just look away.

Saying it hurt would be an understatement.

I started seeing Rafayel more to fill the void that Xavier was leaving behind. Every tear Xavier had ripped into my heart and soul, Rafayel was taking bandaids and patching them up. While it was nice, it wasn’t a permanent solution to the wounds.

I felt guilty, like I was using him, doing the same thing to Rafayel that Xavier was doing to me. Though, despite whatever was happening, Rafayel was content. I don’t think he minded the situation I had imposed. From little dates to holding hands, to kisses on my cheek when he’d drop me off at my dorm, I was getting the attention I craved and Rafayel had someone to keep him company. It’s like we had this silent, mutual agreement that whatever was happening was okay, and this is all it had to be.

Rafayel never knew about Xavier, and I would never tell him.

The incident at the cafe was the first, but not the only time Xavier saw us together. Whether it was the library studying, or the student union building, Xavier would see us and almost always stare. Rafayel always had comments to make about it too, muttering things under his breath about him being a creepy stalker.

I was sitting on the floor of my dorm with Rafayel, scrolling aimlessly on my phone as he sketched the fake plants I had sitting on my desk. My phone started to blow up with everyone texting in our group chat, something about a party happening this weekend.

Tara: Please tell me you guys are gonna be there!

Jeremiah: i have to go, one of my friends is in the frat and he’ll kill me if i don’t

Tara: Okay that's 2 of us! Who else???

“Who’s texting you so much?” Rafayel says, clearly annoyed by my phone's insistent text tone going off.

“This group chat I’m in with my friends,” I sit my phone down, “there's a party this weekend and they’re trying to get everyone to go.”

“Are you going to?”

“I dunno, are you?”

Rafayel laughs, “You know better than anyone I couldn’t be caught dead at one of those.” He puts his sketchbook aside, grabbing my hand, “You should go though, you don’t really do much besides go to class and see me, and as much as I'm happy with the attention, this is a really sad look for you.”

I pull my hand away, offended, “I am not sad!”

“Then prove it, go to the party.”

“I’m pretty sure this is peer pressure, hazing even.”

“That’s most definitely not hazing.” Rafayel picks his sketchbook back up, going back to his drawing with a smug look on his face.

I text back in the groupchat, upset that I agree with Rafayel. Ever since I started hanging out with him and Xavier started giving me the full blown silent treatment, I haven’t really gone out much. I see Tara here and there for lunch or a quick study session, but it’s been a while since I’ve taken the time to do something fun.

Me: yea i’ll be there, lmk what time

Tara: OMG YAY!!!! I’ll send you the details

Xavier: I’ll see U guys there

Seeing Xavier text that he was going to be in attendance sent a lightning bolt of anxiety through my chest.

This was the longest we had gone without talking. Usually, his moments of silence only lasted a few weeks at most. With due time he’d come back with a post he sent or ask me to hang out, announcing his presence and waltzing back into my life; and I'd let him in.

Every. Single. Time.

The distance he created between us this time around made me anxious to face him the upcoming weekend. Would he say hi? Ask how I was? Would he look right through me like so many times before?

After Rafayel left, I sat in bed cocooned in one of Xavier's hoodies he had left behind, watching the stars through my window. I thought maybe, if I stared hard enough, they could make a constellation of his face.

-

Friday rolled around faster than I had hoped. Per Tara’s request, we showed up fashionably late, so the old beat up house was packed by the time we arrived. It was the first time in months I had put myself together, doing my hair and makeup. Taking a couple shots of whatever Tara had given me, I was feeling mildly prepared for the night ahead.

Walking in, my hand gripped hers tightly as she maneuvered gracefully through the crowd. Grabbing a drink from the makeshift bar, I cracked open the can and started chugging. I was going to need as much alcohol as I could to get me through this night. We found a couple girls that we knew, chatting loudly over the music, as I pounded back a few more drinks.

Before I knew it, the man I was dreading seeing the most appeared beside Tara with Jeremiah.

“Ladies!” Jeremiah shouted, wrapping his arms around Tara and I. Xavier’s eyes could have burned a hole through my skull with the intensity that he stared at me. Internally I was at war with myself, half wanting to shrink away because of how small his look made me feel, but also feeling powerful thanks to the liquor coursing through my veins and the hot outfit I had on.

One voice on my shoulder screamed, “Get out of here! Go home! Never show your face again!” While the other danced around, “You’re such a sexy bitch, show him what he’s missing!”

I chugged another drink.

“Wait- Tara, I want you to meet one of my friends, come with me.” Jeremiah gestured for Tara to follow him, and I flashed her a panicked look. She shrugged, squeezing my hand before following behind Jeremiah.

I stood alone with Xavier, the rest of the group disbursing where it just left us.

“I’m gonna get a drink, come on.”

I looked at him, “What?”

“I’m gonna go get a drink? Let's go.” He raised an eyebrow at me, like I asked a stupid question.

“Okay, but why do I have to come with you?”

“Because I’m not leaving you all by yourself-” Xavier pressed two fingers to his temple, “nevermind it’s fine I don’t need another one.”

“I was just asking-”

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He cut me off, his question catching me off guard.

“I’m sorry?”

“Are you having trouble understanding tonight or something? How much have you had to drink?” His words were venom, and I was appalled. Not once had he ever spoken to me this way, not even in arguments.

“I just don’t know who you’re fucking talking about, my bad.” I spat back at him.

“The guy who’s always up your ass, where is he tonight?”

I laughed, shocked, “You mean Rafayel? He is not my boyfriend.” I wasn’t sure if it was the liquor or his jealousy, but his attitude was a loaded gun.

“Well I couldn’t tell, seeing as how you both practically eye fuck wherever you go.”

Stunned, my jaw dropped. His eyes softened, and I could tell he knew he hit a nerve. With the blaring music in my ears, and the alcohol coursing through my veins, I was suddenly convinced that if I didn’t get out of that house I was going to fall apart to pieces.

“I don’t have to take this.” I shoved past him, pushing my way through the crowd and out the front door, until the cold air hit my face.

Xavier called out my name from behind, but I continued walking down the sidewalk. I wanted to be so far from that party, from him, that I thought I may just walk back to my hometown and away from this stupid place; to somewhere he didn’t exist anymore.

Calling my name again, he caught up, grabbing me by my shoulder. His face was switching through emotions every second, and I was getting whiplash.

“What the hell is your problem!” I shouted at him, tears threatening to spill, welling up in the corner of my eyes.

“Hey, wait-” His hand that was on my shoulder went to my cheek, and I jerked away.

“No, you don’t get to do that anymore, we’re done playing that game. I give up!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You- This, us! You kiss me, you tell me I’m beautiful, you tell me you love me, you sleep in my bed and I’m in your arms, then you don’t text me for weeks! You don’t acknowledge anything you do, and I don’t know what any of it means,” I don’t realize I’m crying until I taste the salt in my mouth, “You’re so confusing and I don’t know what’s happening, and it hurts so fucking bad and you don’t even care.”

Xavier stands there dumbfounded, my vision blurry and spinning. I think I might throw up, and I’m not sure if it’s from the situation or the liquor.

“Then you have the audacity to be mean to me over some guy that I’m friends with,” I start to sob, my voice becoming weak and small, “you don’t get to do that, you have no right.”

He doesn’t move, and I stop talking. The only sound between us is my quiet crying and hiccups, mixed with the faint music from the party down the block. He says my name, and I barely hear it over the roar of my own ears.

“You’re my best friend…” He whispers.

The words cut through me like a knife, and I think if I look down I’ll see I’ve been gutted. If you could die from a broken heart, I’d already be six feet under. I swallow thickly, and nod. His words were enough, it told me everything I needed to know.

“Can I walk you home?” He asks.

I shake my head.

I started walking down the sidewalk.

He didn't follow.

When he was out of sight, I sat down on the curb and broke down again. Everything I had felt over the past year of knowing him came out at once, my body ejecting all of it. I cursed him, his name, his future wife and family. I prayed that he was destined to stay up at night, regretting that the woman asleep next to him isn’t me. Distraught, because I believe I myself am cursed to love him forever.

I called Rafayel, and asked him to pick me up. I threw up in someone's yard before he did, and when I finally got back home I closed my curtains and locked my window, hiding under my blankets; convinced the stars in the sky were out to get me. I never wanted to see them again, I’d avoid going outside at night for eternity if it meant I never had to face a reminder of him and his devastating beauty.

The next morning, I blocked him.

Well, I blocked him on all social media, even the ones we didn’t use; but I didn’t block his number. For emergency purposes, I thought.

Or I guess for the slim chance he came back; haunted by regret, choking on apologies, and falling to his knees to plead for forgiveness. I told my friends I was finished with him, swore it with conviction, but I’m starting to think those words were as empty as his own promises.

I won't text him first, I’ll just wait.

I’d wait until he misses my laugh, the sound of my voice, or the songs I’d sing to him as he fell asleep, my fingers through his hair.

I won’t text him, but I won’t shut him out entirely. I’ll close the door behind me, but I won’t lock it, not completely. I won’t hand him the key, but maybe I’ll leave behind a clue, something subtle, something only he’d recognize. Just in case he decides to come back, he’ll know where to start searching, know there’s still a way in, even if I pretend there isn’t.

I’d keep the house behind the door clean, buy a welcome mat, and even build a porch.

Just in case;

But he never called.

(divider by cafekitsune)

[urrockstar-xe]

This is life, merry christmas - j.p x fem!reader

posted 3:23 pm, christmas eve 2024

happy christmas harry :)) i've been meaning to write this one since last year, please enjoy.

not proofread!!!

masterlist

wc: 0.8

Sirius cringed as he watched Remus and James move the tree a third time trying to perfect its position, completely scratching up his brand-new carpet in the process.

“It has to be real, they said, we’ll be careful, they swore!” He threw his hands up in defeat slumping down on the leather couch with a huff. 

“We’ll fix it, love, don’t get your knickers in a twist” Remus grumbled back, equally unhappy with how much they had to mess with the oversized log. 

“Really feeling the Holiday Glee, cheers boys,” Peter remarked sarcastically as he untangled lights on the floor. 

“Hey, mate, have you checked if those work?”

Peter glared at James who quickly shook his head and looked away from the blonde. 

You swiftly plugged them in, only to find that none lit up. “Bloody hell!” Sirius groaned, “He’s been toying with those lights for half an hour!” 

Peter glared down at his string-covered lap with a defeated expression. 

“Okay, I’m gonna make some hot chocolate, how’s that sound boys?” You stood up, happy to leave this grumpy room. 

“Great, now we’ve pissed Y/n off!” Sirius grumbled, crossing his arms. 

“Maybe bring something for our pads to eat too, yeah?” James asked, looking at you hopefully.

“I’ll order Chinese.” You nodded, picking up the phone on the way to the kitchen. 

The sound of bickering hardly diminished as you hid away behind the counter, dialing the number on the refrigerator magnet. 

You tried to ignore the feeling of arms snaking around your waist as the phone rang in your ear. “Make sure to order extra orange chicken for Wormy, love,” James muttered against your shoulder. He smelt of cologne and fresh pine. 

“Hi! I’m alright. Thank you, how are you? Oh, I’m sure.” James smiled at how you politely laughed at whatever was said about how the other’s day was. “Yes, a delivery-” “Order some of those crab things!” Peter’s voice was followed by more bickers and a quick ”Please and thank you!’

“So, I’ll need two orders of orange chicken, one of kung pao- teriyaki?” You whispered the question to James, knowing his answer already. “Teriyaki” he nodded with a smile, “and chow mein” 

“Naturally” you moved the phone back to your ear,

“-oh and, a bunch of crab rangoons! Thank you so much, Happy holidays.” you hung up, earning immediate cheers from the boys. 

“Hello, darling” James murmured once you finally paid him the mind he was waiting for, turning to face him properly. “Hi, James.”

“Sorry about all of our fussing tonight. It's not very merry and bright of us, is it?” he chuckled, moving hair out of your face. “That’s alright; I thrive in your chaos.” You shrugged, smiling back before reaching up to fix his slightly crooked glasses. 

James thanked you with a soft kiss. 

“Oi! They’re tying me up with the lights!” Sirius yelled out in distress, “Kinky, mates!” James called back, smiling at how you laughed when he just went back to kissing you, setting one of his hands on your face.

Another anguished scream from Sirius, followed by nearly manic laughter from Remus and Peter ruined the moment between the two of you. “We should help him” You muttered against James' mouth, earning a dramatic sigh. “He’s quite the grinch tonight, love, maybe this is good for him” 

“James” 

now a dramatic groan. 

“Fiiine.”

With all of the reluctance in the world, James broke away from you, doing a little jog back into the living room to catch the two boys tying seemingly different lights around Sirius’ feet, his hands already tied up and glowing.

“Ah, found lights that worked did you, Wormy?” James smirked at Sirius, crossing his arms. “Remus did actually!” Peter nodded, smiling as he patted Sirius’ knee before standing up. “There, there, my love, those lights reflect beautifully off those curls of yours,” Remus said in his most charming voice, just to get a glare in response from Sirius. “Lovely, my boyfriend hates me and my friends are antagonizing me.” the rockstar grumbled, turning his attention to the tree in the corner. 

“James, I said to help him!” You sighed, shaking your head in an attempt to hide your smile from Sirius as you moved to untie his hands. 

“Glad somebody loves me,” Remus scoffed, “don’t be daft, Pads,” he muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Sirius’ head, laughing when Sirius tilted his head back to catch the kiss with his lips instead. 

“This is just awful.” Peter cringed, “what is?” “Couples, and holidays, blegh.” 

“That’s, alright, Petey boy, you’ve got the lights.” Sirius pointed at the pile of dead lights, hands now free to run through his hair and fix his jacket. 

“Hardy har”

Peter said in an exaggerated american accent, earning a fit of giggles from his friends.

Sirius stood up, “Seriously though before we finish decorating, we need to vacuum now”

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

hiiii! i was hoping for a mm!raph x fem!reader and maybe she’s a hallway crush for him and he finally talks to her and then they’re literally in love LIKE HARD CORE

Hallway Crush (Fluff)

MM!Raphael x reader

A/N: Mind reader you are. I’ve been thinking about writing this one for some time, so thank you for asking😂❤️ I’ve cut it a little short today, as I’m still getting used to a normal everyday in a kindergarten, so it became more high school crushing instead of full on in love. Hope you enjoy❤️

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Warnings: None❤️

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Raphael stood with his head in his locker, acting like he was looking through his stuff for something specific. Well, he was in fact looking for something, but it was nothing in his locker. No it was down the hall, standing at their own locker, picking out the books for their next class.

This was not what Raph had imagined high school to be like. He had thought it would be like those movies he and his brothers used to see back in the lair. The stereotypical jock that had it easy, never scared about what people thought of him, every guy wanted to be like him, he picked on the nerd and had a pretty girlfriend. That was how Raph had thought his high school life would be like. But that was far from the reality he was served with.

Raph had made it onto the wrestling team, so that made him a jock, right? But nothing about school was easy. Raph struggled with reading and math, and he often found himself feeling a little subconscious whenever someone looked at him for too long. His turtle exterior might have been accepted by the people of New York City, but every long stair made him feel a little unsure. Raph was very dependent on Donnie and his nerd friends helping him out with homework, and at times he feared that people would rather get to know his brothers instead of him. And he did not have a girlfriend. But he did have a crush on probably the prettiest girl in the whole school. Great, right? No!

Raph had never even talked a single word to you, but stared at you from his locker, more than happy to be late for class if he could watch you for a little longer. There had been times where Raph had tried to talk himself up, wanting to start up a conversation with you, but instead he found that his hands were getting sweaty at the mere thought of talking to you. His heart rising and his body shaking whenever you were close by in the cantine, or those few times he had found himself at the same water fountain as you. He almost forgot to breathe whenever you looked in his direction, averting his gaze, never knowing if you ever actually looked at him. And the brutal truth was that Raph wasn’t even sure if you knew his name, but he surely knew yours, often finding it repeating itself in his head.

Despite that, Raphael did exactly as he had done every single day, after he saw you for the first time. He stayed at his locker, watching you as you looked through your stuff, getting ready for your next class.

Raph was relieved that his brother’s weren’t around. They had obviously seen the way their brother has started to act whenever you were in his line of sight. Mikey and Donnie had a blast, realizing that it wasn’t Leo that had gotten a crush on a human, but Raph as well, giving the two youngest something good to tease both of their oldest brothers with.

Raph felt his shoulders slump, remembering Leo’s crush on April. He felt like slamming his head against the side of his locker. Here he was, fearing something as small as your eyes turning his way, and his duns of a big brother was talking to his own crush everyday, even if he was rambling and fumbling over his words. This could not be. There was no way that Leo was better at this than Raph was. It could not be. And with those thoughts in mind, Raph once again tried to talk himself up.

“You can do this, dude”, he whispered to himself, daring another look in your direction. “You fought Superfly. You saved New York City. If you can’t talk to a girl, who can? Even Leo can do it, and he is a duns”.

Raph shut his locker with a sigh, before doing something he had never thought he would do. He walked in your direction, determined finally to have a conversation with you. You however, didn’t seem to notice Raph until he was a few feet from you. You shut him a small friendly smile, causing his heart to flutter and his body to shake with nervousness.

“H- hey”, Raph stammered, cringing at the way his voice cracked. He expected you to huff annoyed at him before leaving, but instead your small friendly smile deepened to a genuine smile.

“Well, hi to you too”, you smiled, a giggle escaping your lips when you saw his flustered expression. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Uhm… uh… yeah! I- I know you, (Y/N), but you don’t know me - sorry, no - I- I’ve seen you around, a- and I- I thought you were r- really”. Raph stalled at the way your eyes watched him with genuine curiosity and kindness, patiently waiting got him to finish. “W- will you go out with me?”

Raph had feared you would laugh, but not like you did now. It was light hearted and calm, and not in the least bit taunting. No, it was friendly and happy, somehow calming Raph’s frayed nerves down.

“I would love to do that, Raphael”, you smiled, trying to hide a small blush on your face.

Raph stared at you, his mouth agasp and eyes wide. “Y- you know m- my name?”

“Of course I do”, you smiled with a small giggle, avoiding eye contact for a few seconds. It was when Raph realized that you were nervous too. “Everybody does. You and your brothers saved the city, and well”. Biting your lip, you reached out and tucked on the sleeve on his flannel, making his heart skip a beat. “You’re hard not to notice. I’m not just talking about the whole turtle thing”.

“Oh?”, Raph asked, somewhat shocked. “You really think so?”

“Yeah”, you nodded, smiling brightly at him.

“Okay”, Raph said with a fond smile, feeling his nervousness fade away, giving way to a sudden urge of confidence, leaning against the locker. “Then what do you say to a pizza date this Friday?”