#alright thanks for all that participated in this

[ellecdc]

Hiii :) I saw your requests tips and saw that you didn't write for dub/non con and I don't know if this count as one so just feel free to not respond!

So reader is in a relationship with the Marauders and is starting to randomly think about a past SA and realise this was SA only now bc her brain has been blocking the memory and information. She tells the boys (and maybe Barty idk) about it after sometime of overthinking it and self blaming so it's just like super fluff at the end <3

(it's my personal experience but if you don't feel comfortable writing about it just feel free to ignore it :). Sorry for the bad orthograph english isn't my first language 🫶🏻)

first of all - your English is fucking fantastic (and you know more words than I do - I had to look up what an orthograph was) secondly, I turned this into more of a conversation between reader and her ship. and for plot purposes this became poly!wolfstar - hope that's okay!

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who opens up about past SA

CW: discusses themes of sexual consent, inebriation, and SA. Describes past SA and abusive relationships. Describes drunkeness, alcohol, and drinking. viewer discretion is advised.

You could tell it was taking Sirius a lot of effort to appear to be too fussed over Lily, James, and Regulus at the end of the party, but he pretended to gag every time anything even remotely romantic or sexual was brought up about his brother.

“What do you think happens when they go home, Pads?” Remus muttered quietly, causing Sirius to slap his hands against his ears.

“Would you shut up, Moons? I am not interested in hearing about my brother’s sexual habits, thank you.”

Unfortunately for Sirius, Lily didn’t get the memo. 

“Are we le-leaving!?” She shrieked through a hiccup as James held most of her weight up against his side and Regulus gathered her purse and shoes she’d since lost.

“Yes sweets; we’re gonna get you to bed.” James said quietly.

A salacious smirk took over Lily’s face as she tried (and failed) to grab James by the chin. “To bed, hm?”

Regulus snorted, though no one missed the blush that dusted his cheeks. “To sleep, Lils.”

Lily groaned dramatically and seemed to go ‘no bones’ in James' grip as he grunted and tried to keep her from hitting the ground. “Why not.”

“Because you smell like you bathed in a bottle of schnapps, sweetheart.” James placated.

“So?” Lily grumbled though acquiesced to helping James keep her up right. “We can even do that thing you like.” She tried to sing sensually, but her efforts were in vain as every other word came out slurred. 

Sirius grumbled causing James to blush. 

“Not tonight, angel. We’ll cuddle, okay?”

Lily scoffed and turned her sights onto Regulus. “You agree with me, right? Right Reggie? You agree- you agree with me?”

“Almost always.” Regulus agreed quickly, offering Lily his arm as to share her weight with James. “Just not tonight, my love.”

“You guys are no fun.” Lily whined as she allowed her two boyfriends to usher her out of Remus and Sirius’ shared flat.

Unfortunately for Sirius, no one missed Regulus leaning into Lily’s hair and promising that “they’d have lots of fun tomorrow to make up for it.”

“I hate them all.” Sirius grumbled with no real malice as he stood and made his way over to you before offering you both of his hands. “What do you say, dollface? Ready for bed too?”

Remus answered ‘yes’ as you accepted Sirius’ help up which sparked a debate between the two of them whether or not Remus could be considered ‘dollface’ to which you secretly agreed that yes he could but ultimately refused to participate in such nonsense.

You got ready for bed in a haze as you replayed Regulus, James, and Lily’s conversation in your head. You weren’t sure what exactly you were so stuck on, but something about the exchange caused something deep within your gut to churn unpleasantly. 

“You feeling alright, dovey?” Remus asked gently, pressing a kiss to your hairline as you reentered their bedroom after washing your face, carrying your toiletries with you so as not to hog the bathroom.

Sirius (and Remus) had been begging you to spend your nights here with them nearly since the very beginning of your relationship, but you argued that you did not want to pay rent for a flat you never saw. 

He then started nagging you to give up the lease on your flat and just “sodding move in with them already”, but it still felt a little too fresh for that.

So, you spent most nights (but not all) at their flat; living out of duffle bags and toiletry bags.

You hummed in confirmation to Remus’ question, moving towards the mirror above Sirius’ dresser to finish your skincare routine as Remus took his turn with the washroom.

“You sure, sweetness? You’ve been awfully quiet tonight; did you have fun?” Sirius continued as he went digging through what you knew to be Remus’ drawers searching for Sirius’ favourite shirt which was really Remus’ shirt but no one bothered to argue with the black-haired boy…anymore.

“I had fun.” You agreed, massaging product into your face.

“Uh huh.” Sirius commented, not sounding at all convinced as he came up behind you and hooked his chin over your shoulder; watching as you completed your nightly routine through the mirror. “You had so much fun and that’s why you look like Moony when he can’t figure out one of those crosswords in the Daily Prophet?”

You chuckled softly, but something in your lack of enthusiasm (or your lack of disdain) for his joke seemed to tip him off. 

“What’s going on in here, hm?” He asked as he pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“I just…” You started, sighing as you made yourself busy by tidying up your belongings and refusing to make eye contact with him. “I’ve just been thinking about Reg, James, and Lily’s conversation.”

That caused a dramatic groan to rip through Sirius’ chest as he leaned his forehead against your shoulder.

“What now?” Remus asked jokingly as he returned from the washroom. 

“She’s thinking about Regulus, James, and Lily in bed.” Sirius accused; voice muffled in the fabric of your sleepwear. 

You scoffed defensively, claiming you were “absolutely not” at the same time Remus commented “aren’t we all” which started a very loud bickering match between your two boyfriends. 

The arguing only ceased when Remus “swore on his mother’s life” that Sirius was “by far the superior Black brother.” 

Placated, Sirius turned his sights back to you as you sat on the edge of the bed. “So, what were you really thinking about their conversation?”

Remus, having walked in with only enough time to rile Sirius up, popped his head up at that. “Everything alright, dove?”

You sighed as you turned to face them. “I was just confused, I guess.” You admitted. “I think…Lily was hoping to have sex tonight?”

Sirius groaned again which earned him a swat from Remus who seemed to pick up on some of the tension radiating through your body.

“Yes…I’d agree.” Remus responded carefully.

“And Reg and James said no?”

Sirius’ head tilted at that as he considered you with furrowed brows. “Well, of course, doll. She was drunk.” He said simply, as if that explained it all. 

“So…they wouldn’t have sex with her because she was drunk?” You clarified.

The boys shared a glance with one another before they each took a seat on the bed, prompting you to turn your body so you were all facing each other.

“So, all parties have to be able to consent, right?” Remus started. 

You nodded quickly at that. 

“But when one party is inebriated or under the influence, they can’t consent.” Sirius continued.

You felt your eyebrows twitch as you looked down at the pattern on your bed spread. “Even though she was asking?”

“She wasn’t in her right mind, dove.” Remus explained gently; eyes full of compassion and, perhaps, some sadness. “She may have woken up tomorrow and not remembered anything, or perhaps worse, regretted something. It’s Regulus and James’ jobs to keep her safe, just like I’m sure she keeps them safe when the roles are reversed.”

And now you could understand why their conversation seemed to catch you so off guard. 

“You’re so pretty like this; drunk and all mine.”

“Have a few more; we always have more fun when you let loose.”

“But…I’m really tired.” “All you’ve got to do is lay there - I’ll do all the work.”

“You don’t remember last night? That’s too bad; I won’t be forgetting that any time soon.”

“You’re such a good little whore for me when you’ve had a few too many.” 

You hadn’t realised you had zoned out of the conversation until Sirius was leaning into your field of vision. “You okay, sweets?”

“Yeah.” You said breathlessly before clearing your throat. “No, sorry. I’m fine.”

“Why were you asking?” Remus queried; tone hardening slightly, alerting you to the fact that he smelled trouble. 

“I was just wondering.” You fibbed.

“You know we would do the same, right?” Sirius asked earnestly. “That we have done the same for you.”

“You have?”

“Yes, my love.” Remus whispered. “Always.”

You nodded and looked back down at the bedspread. “Okay.”

“Y/N.” Sirius called with a certain level of severity; though you detected no anger or frustration in his tone. “Why were you asking?” He repeated Remus’ earlier question after your gaze met his imploring silver eyes. 

You quickly looked down at your hands as you began picking at the hangnails around your fingers. “I was just confused; that has not always been my experience.” You admitted quietly; shame coursing through your body as you digested this new information.

The room was quiet for a moment as Remus shuffled scrupulously closer to you. “No?” He whispered; voice intoned with a level of gentleness you weren’t accustomed to hearing. 

You began to feel all sorts of discomfort at the heavy attention being focused on you in the room. “It was usually quite the opposite.” You joked; voice rising to a higher octave in an attempt to make light of the situation as you pulled back the covers and made to retreat to the relative safety of the boys’ bed. 

“Whoa, whoa. What does that mean?” Sirius implored, earning him a gentle warning “Pads” from Remus.

“I’m sorry.” You placated, still uncomfortable with this heavy atmosphere you seem to have blanketed over what had been a really nice evening. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, I-” Sirius began, cutting himself off and taking a breath you could tell was an attempt to calm himself down. He shuffled closer to you and wrapped his hand around one of your ankles through the blanket as he rubbed soothing circles against it. “You can always talk about anything with us; it’s important that we talk about these things, yeah?”

“Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” Remus mollified. “But I do agree with Sirius; if you’re comfortable, I think it’s good for us to talk about these things.” 

“It was just my last relationship.” You admitted finally. “He didn’t…agree - with the consent thing, that is.”

Remus’ lips pursed as Sirius’ jaw tightened. 

“He’d sleep with you when you were drunk?” Remus asked cautiously. 

“Yeah.” You agreed half-heartedly, picking at your nail beds. “Or encourage me to drink more so…”

Remus let out a sigh and you could tell Sirius was fighting back the urge to grumble. 

“I’m sorry,” You offered again. “I really didn’t mean to bring all this up, I just-”

“I really, really don’t want you to apologise anymore.” Sirius nearly begged. 

“I don’t understand how someone could do that.” Remus mused aloud. “To anyone; and someone they claimed to love?”

You mistook Remus’ rhetorical question for an actual need for clarification. “He said I was more fun; that I’d try things I wouldn’t normally.”

Sirius did finally let out an angry huff and his fingers stilled on your ankle. “Who?”

“You don’t know him.” You countered quickly, bringing your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them as you rested your chin on your knees. 

“Lucky him.” Sirius muttered darkly as Remus shifted closer to you. 

“I’m sorry dove.” He offered quietly; holding out his hand to you in a silent invitation. You accepted it, and as you gave him your hand, he gently encouraged you over to him until you were cradled in his arms.

“I didn’t tell you to be sorry.” You murmured quietly as Remus began pressing kisses to the raw and reddened skin around your fingers you hadn’t realised you had nearly shredded in your tension. 

“I know you didn’t.” He whispered. “I’m still sorry, anyhow.”

“I think it’s nice… that the boys were looking after Lily.”

Remus hummed in agreement though he still looked particularly disturbed.  

“That’s their job.” Sirius supplied, causing you and Remus to turn your heads towards your boyfriend whose eyes were red and shining with unshed tears.

“Sirius.” You murmured miserably.

“Just like it’s our job to look after you.” He continued as if you hadn’t said anything at all.

“And you do.” You agreed.

Sirius huffed and wiped at his face. “I hate to think of you being hurt or…or taken advantage of when I wasn’t there to help you.”

Remus made a pitiful sound at that. 

“You didn’t even know me then, Siri.” You offered, half teasing and half placating. 

“She’s alright, Sirius.” Remus comforted. “She’s got us. You’ll be okay now, yeah?”

And you thought of your boys now; you thought of Sirius near tears thinking of someone taking advantage of you during a time you hadn’t even known him, you thought of Remus currently cradling you like you were a precious thing he feared losing if he didn’t hold you with the utmost care, and you thought of their friends - the kind of people who they surrounded themselves with and had the same morals as they did.

Yeah…you think you might just be okay now.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius x remus #wolfstar #poly!wolfstar #poly!wolfstar x reader #poly!wolfstar x you #poly!wolfstar blurb #poly!wolfstar imagine #poly!wolfstar fic #poly!wolfstar hurt/comfort #marauders hurt/comfort #sirius black hurt/comfort #remus lupin hurt/comfort #past SA #conversations of consent #fem!reader #ellecdc fics

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

Okay this actually tracks

#well start watching the shows i watch then #just kidding #This confirmed what I sort of had thought #so thats good #alright thanks for all that participated in this #i appreciate the feedback

[eartheats]

oh my fuck! i finally managed to get back into my fuckin' account, thank arc, oh my arc if she fuckin' got in again i swear, i swear i'm gonna--

...

oh. that's. hm!

i uh. i think i owe some apologies for the shit that happened, huh

#ren talks #pkmn irl #pokeblogging #pokemon irl #rotomblr #//alright ending off the mmm here! thank you all for participating~

[smithsparker]

,

#alright thank yall for tuning in to zuko zodiac breakdown #the end result was scorpio 2 capricorn 1 #so scorpio it is! #i read some random blogs and i was satisfied enough lmaoo #thank u to everyone who participated im sorry if ur favourite didnt make the cut all challengers were equally skilled etc etc #sas.txt

[gotham-daydreams]

Not Here

[Yandere! Platonic! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of neglect, Mild Yandere Behavior, Batfam being hella stupid.]

(Not really proofread. The birds and bats seeing that y'know- maybe not paying attention to people and neglecting them isn't a good thing. Chaos ensues. More of a development thing. Might be a little ooc?)

Tags: @bigcandlesmolbrain

Part 2 of this post.

๑۩۞۩๑—————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑

Bruce liked to think he was a good father, for anything that was worth. Or at the very least, a decent one.

He wasn't perfect by any means, but he felt like he raised his children the best he could, and had made them into responsible and diligent adults. Dick was a great example of this, and even if Damian was still growing up, Bruce had hope that he'd turn out to be good as well. The hardships his current Robin had to face would pay off in the end, Bruce was almost too sure of that.

Those he decided to take under his wing had their flaws, yes, but even if he didn't say it out loud or point it out often. He did believe that they were good at what they do, or at least were on the right path to becoming good vigilantes. Bruce couldn't help but be proud and prideful of where his children and sidekicks were, and could only look forward to how they would continue to develop as time went on. Despite their feelings towards him, and his own faults, mistakes, paranoia, and so on. Along with how he felt about them, and their flaws — he couldn't help but respect the people those in his little mess of a family where becoming, and turning out to be.

Or maybe he was both overestimating and underestimating himself, and the true effects he had on those he decided to look after.

Since, for a few days now, he felt like something was... off.

The Manor seemed quieter these days, and even if he couldn't remember a time where it was particularly loud, the detail felt misplaced to him. Sure, he hasn't hosted a gala or party in a while, but that didn't feel like it was the reason why the silence suddenly bothered him.

Bruce tried to think of all possible reasons, a little surprised himself that this feeling of his was bothering him so much, but the more he thought about it the more confused he became. There didn't seem to be a particular reason for this... and yet, just as he was about to put this feeling aside, he heard it.

["I, um, I was just wondering..."]

["Oh, uhh, that's quite alright! Oh, one moment please... oh! Second chorus... T'was brilling, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wade..."]

It sounded like some sort of... play? Bruce wasn't too sure, but still decided to check it out regardless, wondering why something like that was playing in the first place.

So, allowing the sounds of the play to guide him, he continued on.

["Why- why you're a cat!"]

The voices grew louder as Bruce drew closer, interest peaked as he tried to recall and see of he knew this play. The lines sounding familiar, now that he was really listening to them.

["A Cheshire Cat. All mimsy were the borogoves..."]

Once Bruce rounded the corner he saw a... familiar face on the screen.

A student play was being filmed, and the play itself was Alice in Wonderland.

Whereas Bruce didn't recognize the actor for Alice, he did recognize the actor for the Cheshire Cat, but couldn't quite put his finger on it...

Was... was that...?

"Y/n?" He whispered your name, voice barely above a whisper.

No, it couldn't be. You didn't participate in any plays, and surely if you did he would've known about it. Even then, that didn't explain why he was seeing this now. The play itself had to have been a recording, since you looked so young...

How long ago did this take place?

["Oh, wait! Don't go, please!"]

["Very well. Third chorus..."]

["Oh no, no, no... thank you, but- but I just wanted to ask you which way I ought to go."]

["Well, that depends on where you want to get to."]

["Oh, it really doesn't matter... as long as I g-"]

["Then it really doesn't matter which way you go! Ah-hmm.... and the momeraths outgrabe..."]

Bruce was staring so intensely at the screen that he hardly noticed how the lines and voices faded into the background. His focus centered on you, disbelief gnawing at the back of his head.

He had never seen you smile like that before, not during all the times he's seen you anyway. Even if those moments themselves were small and short from what he could remember, the smile you wore during your performance felt... new in a way. Like something he hadn't seen before — not on your face anyway. Though that wasn't the only thing that made Bruce feel weird as he watched the play.

It wasn't anything to do with your acting skills. They were fine for the most part — and honestly considering the age you probably were during the time of the play, they might've been above average, or even a little higher than that. Not even the girl who played Alice, who also did relatively well, was the source of this odd feeling.

It wasn't the costumes or the set up, or even the lighting, and how he could faintly see the silhouette of other actors and such just behind the curtain, because of the camera angle. No, it hardly had anything to do with anything like that, but, how should he put this...

... How come he didn't know about this? How come he wasn't aware of this play before? Let alone that they had a recording of it, and that you were even a part of it... but Bruce still felt bothered by this whole realization because, well.

Why didn't you tell him about this?

"Master Bruce?"

The sudden voice snapped Bruce out of whatever trance he was stuck in, as he whipped his head around to face the source of it.

He huffed softly, "Oh, hey Alfred." Bruce greeted calmly, acting as if the butler hadn't caught him off guard.

Alred couldn't help but raise a brow at that.

Almost in a silent, embarrassed way, Bruce glanced off to the side only to notice that the recording was still playing, and so he decided to ask about it. Since, if someone knew anything about anyone in this Manor, it would be Alfred.

"Say... what's this playing on the TV?"

"It's a recording of one of Master Y/n's plays, Master Bruce." Alfred answered simply, almost as if it was common knowledge. "Apologies if it's too loud, I decided to play it while cleaning. I can change it or turn it down if you'd like."

"No, no it's fine... but since when has Y/n acted in plays? I don't remember hearing about this." Bruce stated, confusion growing as another emotion began to swell in his chest. One he was all too familiar with, but ignored for the moment.

"Since middle school, if I recall correctly, but it was only while they were younger. Having only been in three school plays in total, I believe." Alfred moved closer to Bruce as he looked at the screen, eyes softening for a moment as he watched you move along the stage. You had grown up so much since then, and the stage fright you used to have felt like nothing more but a faint memory now.

You wouldn't believe how incredibly proud of you he is.

"It's a shame they didn't do any more afterwards, since it would've been nice to have a few more recordings of their performances, but I suppose that's what happens when you find a new passion." He looked back at Bruce. That previous softness in his gaze nowhere to be found.

There was a certain way how his eyes looked at the billionaire, as if expecting something. As if expecting this.

Alfred had higher hopes, but you had left for a reason. Even if he knew what that reason was, it was only now did he see it more clearly. Especially as he witnessed Bruce's face shift into one of shock and surprise.

"They've always told you, Master Bruce, but you're schedule has just always been too full." Alfred handed Bruce a piece of paper, and Bruce took it wordlessly, looking it over.

It was a flyer promoting a play — the Alice in Wonderland play that was still going in the background — with the dates and times listed below, along with some of the cast members. Your name stuck out like a sour thumb compared to the rest.

Bruce did remember seeing this before, but one thing did still confuse him as he looked back at Alfred.

"I'm pretty sure you gave this to me at the time, not Y/n."

"That I did, sir, but that was only because Master Y/n was having some trouble with catching you attention, because they had wanted to give you the flyer themself. So I offered to give it to you for them." Alfred replied truthfully, cleaning up a little more while he was at it, and leaving Bruce to his thoughts for the moment.

He didn't remember you trying to catch his attention... but if what Alfred says is true then that makes sense, even if it made Bruce feel bad in a way. The feeling growing a little more when he realized something Alfred had said.

"And this happened all three times?"

"You sound surprised, Master Bruce."

Bruce ran a hand through his hair, eyes pinned on the flyer as he pressed his pursed into a thin line. Countless thoughts floated around in his head, all of them jumbled up and messy as he just didn't know what to make of this. Missing one was probably fine, and maybe two at a push, but all three? How could he have missed every single one?

Sure he was busy, but he didn't think it was this bad. Did he just forget? How did he not notice such a thing had slipped right past him?

All Bruce could do was sigh. There was nothing he could do about it now, and even if there was a way to make it up to you, he didn't know where to start, or if that would change anything to begin with. Besides, he didn't even know how long it's been since these performances had happened.

...

Wait a minute-

"Alfred, how long ago was this?"

Alfred just looked at Bruce, brows just barely creased before he took a breath of his own.

"A few years ago, sir."

What?

At the look of disbelief on Bruce's face, Alfred could only stand and straighten himself out as he calmly asked, "How old do you think Master Y/n is, sir?"

"Oh, well, they're..."

... Bruce couldn't even think of an answer.

Obviously you had to be in highschool since it had been years since you've performed in a play, with the Alice in Wonderland play being one of them, but how old were you exactly? What year were you in? Were you a sophomore? Junior? Surely you weren't a freshman, but even then — what high school did you even go to? Bruce didn't think you were home schooled, or else he'd definitely notice that... or would he?

Oh no.

What if you already graduated? What if you already had gone and done something that not even Alfred knew about? Did you have a job? Where would you even work? Were you already in college? What college would you even go to? Did you manage to get a scholarship? What would be you major? Where would you be studying? Would you even stay in Gotham? Were you even old enough to be out on your own? Could you even drink yet? Could you drive? Did you own a car? Or even a motor bike? When was your birthday? Did it already pass? What's the month? The day? The year?

How old are you?

"I... I think I'm going to go and just check up on them." Bruce couldn't answer, and while he had a vauge idea. That's all it was, an idea. So he moved the subject along, and made his way up the stairs, leaving Alfred behind. Just watching as the world's greatest detective left the room, all because he couldn't figure out the age of one of his own kids. One he had chosen to take in and watch over like all the rest, and yet left behind all the same in the process.

Alfred could only sigh to himself as he paused the recording of the play. Ejecting the disc and putting it in its respective case, and placing it in its usual spot.

This was the only way, he decided. This was the only way.

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

Bruce didn't feel much better by the time he reached your room. It took him mistakenly stumbling into two guest rooms before he finally reached it, and honestly he felt more regret over that alone.

Most of this time he hardly remembered that the room before him now was even occupied, let alone that you had claimed it as yours. What didn't help was that it was only now that he remembered introducing this space as your own, and yet he had forgotten that small detail so quickly.

Regardless, Bruce just pushed that all to the side as he knocked on the door, taking in a breath.

"Y/n?" He called out, only to get no respose. So he tried knocking again, but he still got nothing.

Sure, he was getting a little confused, but just pushed that to the side with everything else, as he stared down at the door knob.

... Should he?

He had to talk with you eventually, especially considering what he just figured out and how little he actually knew about you. He needed to talk with you. He couldn't just let this slide, not with what he knew now. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

So, be tried the knob, and was kind of surprised that it was unlocked. Though besides that little strange detail, he gently pushed the door open, and took a peak inside.

Oh. You weren't even here...

Bruce didn't know how to feel about that.

Regardless of that, however, he opened up the door a little wider, and stepped inside. What he saw only made him more confused, but also feel so much worse when he looked all over the room. How could this be...?

Various things were on your desk, shelves, and hung on the walls. Your room looked surprisingly clean, but honestly Bruce doesn't know what he was expecting. After all, he didn't even know your exact age or hardly anything about you, and even then — by the looks of things, he had missed out on so much more than he originally thought.

Trophies, awards, medals, and certificates were littered about your room. The very sight of them made the paper in Bruce's hands feel so much heavier, and yet he still held onto it as he further inspected the awards, and few pictures hung on your walls.

Every color was here, from bronze to silver to gold, and at some point it seemed you were able to get a consistent amount of silvers and gold. The awards themselves were from various events and activities that barely corresponded with each other. From fencing to swimming, and dance to pottery. From track and field to literacy, and gymnastics to cooking.

It was like you had tried to do so much of everything, and were trying to collect all of these awards from all of these different activities, rather than earn them because you deserved it for all your hard work and dedication to do that particular activity, but Bruce just couldn't understand why. Why go through all of the effort just to move on to the next thing? It... didn't make sense.

Right next to you black belt for martial arts, you had hung up the few medals you had gotten from track, and right below that were some awards you had for gymnastics. Beside your soccer trophies you had some kind of art award, and beside that was more awards and things you had received from playing and participating in other sports and activities. Bruce had no idea you were even into some of these things, but just from looking at your room, he could tell you weren't all that into or interested in some of the activities you did. Seeing as some activities and such had more awards when compared to others, but one thing in particular seemed to really catch your interest.

Music.

Not only did you have a whole wall and section of your room dedicated to it, but it felt more organized, and the placement of awards and such seemed more thought out in a way.

Countless awards littered the wall, and from the placement alone he knew you were proud of them. The pictures hung on the wall showed you shaking someone's hand as you either held up an award or album cover. You smiled, and Bruce could see how genuine it was as he felt like he could feel your happiness radiate off the photo itself. The people you were shaking hands with looked pretty happy themselves, and Bruce was a little surprised that he recognized them, but that made him feel more conflicted.

The people in those photos with you, were famous, and you had gotten those opportunities to meet them and shake their hand all by yourself.

All of these awards — they were only the finishing products of what you had spent all of your time doing. They were only small glimpses into the person you truly were, and as Bruce looked at the records you had hung on the wall, he could feel his own regret spilling out of his bleeding heart.

He wish he was there with you.

He wish that he had been there to see you even get half of these rewards that you undoubtedly deserved. He wish he got to hear the music you played, and what kind of songs you wrote. He wish he had been there to see you go on, and work your way up, with him being there as your support, and yet...

He had missed everything.

From the plays, to the matches you had, to the games you played in and competitions you participated in, and how could he forget your performances that even earned you such big, important awards. Awards that probably meant so much to you, because of how far it showed you had grown.

Bruce missed it all. Every little thing.

... He had to find you.

No if's or but's this time. No more excuses. He had to find you. Bruce needed to.

So he did a more thorough search of your room. Finally placing the flyer down on your desk as he looked around. He checked your closet, your bed, even under the picture frames, and moved some of the awards around, in order to better check and search for anything. Any hint that could point to where you had gone, and or where you might be. Any clue, any thing that could tell him about you.

He even made sure to take a mental note of the people in the photos, just in case he had to reach out to them and ask if they knew where you were by some off chance. Though that was only if Bruce was convinced that you weren't even in the Manor, and getting some extra information on you never hurt anyway. Seeing as he had a lot of catching up to do.

As he searched, he ran into various things. From equipment, art pieces — most of which were unfinished — and old notes, to other random items. Like an airsoft gun, some glass beakers, various ties, a pair of shades, a glasses frame, and a sewing kit next to a first-aid kit? Bruce didn't want to think about how the first-aid kit both looked used, and was empty.

Bruce even stumbled upon a fancy looking tuxedo he didn't remember buying you at all, but a small tag caught his eye and-

Oh, it was a gift from someone else, and with the note you left behind the tag — most likely with the intention of giving the tuxedo back — it was safe to assume that you and this person knew each other quite well...

Bruce just put the tux back. He would've gotten you a better one anyway if you had just asked, or if he even knew you needed one in the first place. Though regardless of that, he kept looking.

Eventually, he looked under your bed, and found a single box under there. Undisturbed... sitting innocently in the darkness.

Bruce didn't waste much time as he reached out and grabbed it, and placed it on your bed. There was a thin layer of dust on top of it, which Bruce found a little strange but kept in mind as he opened the box and looked inside. There, he saw a variety of notebooks and papers, and from the looks of things, the items in here had been collecting a bit of dust too...

When was the last time you touched these?

It seemed a little strange that these were tucked away from everything else, and clearly you didn't want other people going through it or even seeing them since you kept it so out of view. Were they diaries? Bruce would rather learn anything personal about you from yourself, he didn't want to go through your things like this, but considering the situation...

He sighed, and just picked up a random notebook. If this could help him find you, then so be it. He didn't want to do this but he couldn't leave you alone either. Not again.

Yet, he was so focused on looking through your things that he didn't even realize that someone had passed by, and noticed the odd room Bruce was in. A room that they themselves haven't seen before.

"Woah, what's this place? An old childhood room or something?" Dick asked as he invited himself into the room, mindlessly looking around, not really paying attention to anything in particular as he waltzed around.

"It's Y/n's room." Bruce stated bluntly, still looking over the dusty notebooks in the box. Some simply labeled 'Notes' or 'Practice', while one in particular was called 'Ideas/List & Progress' with little drawn sparkles around it. Another two weren't labeled with titles or words, and instead with small music notes doodled onto the cover in your favorite color. Though Bruce didn't know the color was your favorite.

Nevertheless, Bruce decided to look through one of the notebooks with music notes on it, completely missing how Dick had froze, and turned to look at him as if he was crazy.

"What? You've got to be kidding, right?" Bruce just gestured to one of the records on the wall, flipping through the notebook in his hand as he read through it quickly but carefully.

Dick, still not entirely convinced and honestly just really confused, looked at one of the records Bruce had gestured towards, and felt like he had just gotten ran over by a truck with how hard reality hit him. There your name was, signed and everything, with a well-known producer listened as well.

His eyes even darted to the other records, only to find the same thing, and for just one final check, he looked at one of the awards on the wall.

Your name was engraved on it.

"Holy-" He covered his mouth, more than shocked as he looked around the room again, hand falling from his face, "but that means-" Now Dick was paying more attention to the room, moving from one thing to another as he looked over everything now.

"How did they- there's no way they did all of this? And- what. They even did gymnastics?!" To say that Dick was in absolute disbelief and shock was an understatement. Yet he hardly had any time to recover or process anything as another person popped into the room, albeit only temporarily.

"I'm afraid it is quite possible, Master Dick." Alfred spoke up, catching the attention of the oldest sibling as he moved into the room, and set a stack of papers on your desk, right next to the flyer Bruce had set down.

Confused and curious, Dick looked at the stack once Alfred had pulled away from it, and picked up the first paper.

It was another flyer, but this time for some kind of solo event or concert you'd be doing. The date written down was a few days ago... a week or so having already passed since then, but how could this be?

Dick hesitated, but took another one as he looked it over. Again, it was for some kind of concert or performance, but the date and time was further away. Three weeks to a month having passed since, but how did they not notice? Didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell them?

"This doesn't make any sense... why didn't Y/n tell us about any of these things?" He asked, mostly to himself as he continued to look through the various flyers.

"Why don't you tell me, Master Dick?" Alfred quipped, looking at Dick in a knowing way before stepping out of the room, "Now, I'll be heading off, but I do trust that both of you make the right choice this time around." With that, he simply left. Leaving Dick confused but feeling worse at the same time as he looked back at the flyers, mind racing until he spotted something.

Carfully, Dick pulled out another flyer out of the pile as he placed the others to the side. He recognized this one, but where had he seen it before? Was it...

... Oh god.

Dick whipped out his phone and checked his messages. He had to scroll down a bit, but he quickly found your contact and tapped on it. He flipped through your messages, hundreds upon thousands of which he never responded to, and even if that alone made he feel bad. When he found what he was looking for, he felt even worse.

He found a message of you sending him a photo of the flyer, and said how you hoped you'd see him there. The message itself had been sent almost a year ago, and as he looked back at the flyer, he didn't know how to feel. Yet he kept looking, especially as he spotted another familiar poster.

Some of them he was able to connect back to another message you had sent, and the further back he went the more he responded... but it wasn't much, and he seemed to leave you on read more times than not. He had made an effort, but clearly it wasn't enough.

Dick couldn't imagine how that must've felt for you, and he almost didn't want to. Yet he still continued to search through the flyers, and came across one he had an odd memory of. He did remember seeing a text for it, but also remembered hearing about it somehow? He wasn't too sure, but just incase he did decide to look through his voicemail. He didn't know what he'd find, but he decided to just have a little look, even if he wasn't sure he'd even find anything.

So, he matched the date of the message and scrolled until he found it.

The voicemail innocently stared at him, and Dick couldn't help but hesitate before he tapped on it, and let it play. Heart already heavy as he stared down at the flyer. The kind of look someone gave when they already knew it was too late, and Dick didn't know what was worse. The fact that he basically missed out on your entire life at this point, or that he had nothing to say for it besides that he was sorry, and had just forgotten about these things one too many times.

["Hey, Dick! I, um, I hope everything is going well and that patrol hasn't been too bad." Your voice wavered as you spoke. You were clearly nervous but you tried to push on anyway, and cleared your throat before you tried again.]

["How are you, though? I heard that you had a rough night the other day- and I know I'm not really into all this crime-fighting stuff like everyone else but... I just hope you're okay, y'know?" You chuckled nervously before you cleared your throat again, "An-anyway, um, yeah. I just- hope you're okay." The sound of a paper being fiddled with could be heard, and you took in a small breath.]

["So... I have this performance I'll be doing next Saturday- it's more of a competition really, since other musicians and stuff will be there too. It's at 7 o'clock, and I know you guys mostly work at night and everything- but if you could drop by or even just quickly come around at 8:15 that would be great! Since, um, that's when I'll be performing..."]

Dick looked at awards you hung on the wall as the voicemall continued to play. Based on the date of the performance he was able to find the award. You had gotten second place.

["It's um, it's a piece I wrote that's a tribute to your family- the Flying Graysons, that is, since we're allowed to play songs we wrote if they were approved beforehand, and it was! So, um, I really hope you don't mind. Your family is cool! Not that Bruce and everyone else isn't or anything- um, I'm going to stop talking about that before I say something stupid. But! I couldn't help but feel inspired so I, y'know-" you cleared your throat again. Clearly nervous.]

["Sorry for my rambling- but, yeah. You can pass by if you want or have the time, and it's right by that one place Bruce had that whole charity announcement on Monday. You can't miss it, there will be lights and all this other stuff- not to mention that it'll probably be loud considering things, but uh, yeah."]

["So if you think you can make it or pass by, it's at 7! Next Saturday! And if you can't make it by then, I play at 8:15! So, yeah. Remember that! If- if you want to. Hope to see you there! And if I don't, that's okay. I just hope you enjoy the piece if you hear it. Have a good night! Or-! Or day! Whenever you listen this- um, bye!"]

What? You had wrote a song for him? For his parents? For them?

Dick's heart swelled. He didn't even get to hear it either, he wasn't able to. He didn't have time, and he forgot, but that didn't make things better, did it?

You had gone through all of that effort, and not only made a song for him but even played it during a competition and got second place. Yet he couldn't even put a few minutes to the side to listen to it. He didn't.

Now Dick definitely felt awful.

However, he did notice that there was another voicemail left by you just a few minutes after the last one. So, he decided to play that too before his guilt and regret could fully settle in, as if it'd make him feel better somehow.

["8:45! IT'S 8:45! THAT'S WHEN I PLAY! NOT- Not 8:15, sorry! I mixed up the times- that's when a friend of mine plays, not me! Sorry! Uh, but yeah. I play at 8:45- stop by if you can! I hope to see you then! Buh-bye!"]

Okay, well, Dick officially felt worse now. So much worse.

You had all this character and personality, and yet he was never able to fully see it — to hear it like he has now. Not like this, not while he was paying attention.

Your voice was so much different than what he remembered, and despite your nerves you really tried to tell him because you hoped he'd be there. You tried to tell him in hopes he'd actually show up, and he never did. Even as he listened to your other voice messages, he could hear how his own actions, or lack thereof, were affecting you.

The messages grew shorter, more to the point, and while you did still sound enthusiastic — it's like he could hear the hope dying in your voice. The hope that'd he show up. That any effort would be made, but that didn't happen, and it didn't help that Dick was listening to some of the voicemails he was going through right now, for the first time.

He could only imagine the pain he caused you, and Bruce was thinking the same thing.

Bruce was still looking through your notebooks as Dick was regretting everything he had done to you in the past.

The notebook Bruce was reading now was one where you had written down majority of your more recent song ideas, along with things you wanted to try and melodies you were trying to mix together. It was mostly full of lyrics and small notes to yourself about certain things you wanted to keep in mind, and though there was a lot of things crossed out, Bruce couldn't help but be... charmed in a strange way.

How you talked to yourself was adorable, and seeing your excitement for your own performances and such through each word you wrote, just made Bruce feel so happy for you. He could almost picture your smile and how giddy you felt when you were writing some of these things down, or how focused you were when trying to figure out how to continue the chorus of a song you were making — or if there should even be lyrics to begin with. Along with how you wanted the song itself to sound, and what emotions you wanted to capture in it.

With each page turned it's like he could see the entire process you went through when it came to your song composition. Like he was almost there with you in the moment, watching you do your thing, and honestly? Just by that alone he couldn't help but grow... softer.

Bruce loved seeing how your mind worked when it came to music, and your thought process behind each and every little thing. He just... he felt like through each line and little note he read and looked over, he was falling in love. The kind of love that he couldn't quite describe, besides just the love only a father could feel when they really see their child for who they are for the first time. The kind of love Bruce hadn't felt in a long while, nor this intensely.

You were so creative and passionate, so driven to achieve your dream and do what you loved. You were just so... you, and there was just something about the way you expressed that in the notebook that felt charming. The deeper Bruce got into the notebook, the harder it was to not love you, and each time he saw one of your little notes, he could feel himself smiling. You were so precious, how could he not see that before?

Though, besides all of that, he did notice a small pattern.

Every performance you had, you mentioned in the notebook and would express your feelings about it, and every time you did — you'd write something beneath it. Just a small paragraph about certain hopes you had. Hopes that made Bruce's heart squeeze tighter.

It was you hoping that they'd get to see you perform, that they'd show up, and suddenly Bruce was reminded of why he was doing this in the first place. So, he started to flip through your book, shaking out of whatever trance he was in.

With each performance that passed, the little paragraph got shorter, smaller, simpler. Like a quiet prayer that was dying down, as the believer slowly lost their hope and faith. It even came to a point where only one sentence was written for a while.

"I hope I see one of them."

Bruce's heart broke a little more each and every time he saw it, but the page that really got to him was when the sentence was smudged, small wrinkles and creases were on the page, and you couldn’t even finish writing the sentence as the end of the 'e' in 'them' dragged out.

What didn't help was when he flipped a few more pages, and found the last performance you had written about. It was a few months ago, but the date didn't immediately catch Bruce's eye. No, no, no, what caught his attention at first was the change of that single sentence.

"I hope the audience enjoys it."

His heart shattered at that, smile fading as he took in a breath. A moment passed, with Bruce just stating at the writing. Wishing for the impossible, and to change things that had already been done. It was too late, but he somehow refused to believe that now.

Finally, he noticed the date and paused.

That... couldn't be right. You used to write in this notebook all the time from what he could tell, why did you stop? Did something happen that day?

If months really have passed... then that would explain all the dust on the box and contents within it, but still, it didn't make sense. Weren't you still here in the Manor? Bruce honestly couldn't think of why'd you would stop writing unless you somehow couldn't reach the notebook, but you couldn’t have left, right? Surely, above everything else, he would've notice that, right?

...

Bruce finally looked at Dick, seeing the oldest just staring at old flyers from various events and such you had participated in throughout your life. A life they never got to see.

"When was Y/n's last performance?" He asked bluntly, getting straight to the point.

Dick glanced at Bruce for a moment before looking back down at your desk. He moved some of the papers around before he found the most recent one and looked over to his father with a raised brow.

"About a week ago, why?"

Bruce looked back down at the notebook in his hand, eyes scanning over the date again before he closed it. Looking back at Dick, he asked another question.

"Have you seen Y/n around?"

Dick grew quiet at that, and after a moment he just sighed and shook his head.

"No, I can't say I have." It was only then did he catch what Bruce may have been thinking, "You don't think they-"

"It's a possibility. We can't be too sure just yet," Bruce just wanted to hold onto his hope that you were still here, and even if the chance was small he was willing to take it. He didn't want to believe that they had pushed you so far away that you would not only consider leaving, but actually went ahead and did it. He wanted to be doubtful, but he couldn't rule out anything. Not yet.

"Just keep looking, I'll go ask the others." Bruce stated as he placed the notebook back in the box and headed out the room.

"Keep looking? For what?! Other events we missed? More ways we ignored them? Things they did without us?!"

To say Dick's guilt was eating away at him would be an understatement. It was practically devouring him at this point, and he could just barely take it.

Bruce paused at the doorframe, sighing as he looked back at Dick, "Any hints or clues to where they could be. Favorite spots they might frequent, places where their lessons were held, people they know, anything." He left him with that, causing Dick to just run a stressed hand through his hair as he took a breath.

Worry and regret heavily weighed down on him, but all he could do was carry it for now. He'd make it up to you somehow. He would, and he'd finally get to hear that song one way or another.

As Dick started his search, so did Bruce.

Bruce did a general search around the house, looking for anyone he came across while also trying to look for you. He thought that if he was lucky, he'd run into you. Even if the possibility was small, it could still happen — or he hoped so anyway.

Just this once, Bruce really hoped for the best.

Though, he did end up running into someone, even if it wasn't who he was looking for.

"Woah, someone looks serious. What's got your bat panties in a twist?" Jason asked, amused, "Actually, wait, don't tell me. I don't c-"

"Have you seen Y/n?" Bruce cut Jason off, getting straight to the point.

The sudden question confused Jason as he gave Bruce a weird look, some of his amusment still remaining but it began to die down a bit.

"No... why?"

Bruce took a breath, fingers twitching, "Do you know where they could be?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Jason's own confusion began to take over, his amusement continuing to die down, "Seriously, did something happen? Why are you suddenly looking for them?"

Bruce took a moment, just looking at Jason before he sighed.

"When was the last time you saw them?"

"... A few days ago..." Jason glanced off to the side.

"Jason."

"Okay, okay! Fine. I don't fucking know! A few weeks ago? Maybe?!" He answered, getting agitated already. "I'm barely here enough as it is, how am I supposed to know where they are!"

Again, Bruce took in another breath, but there was something about it that Jason didn't like. Maybe he inhaled too sharply or deeply — Jason wasn't sure, but all he knew was that he wasn't going to like what Bruce was about to say.

"Dick hasn't seen them either."

"And that's supposed to be a surprise, how? He lives all the way in Bludhaven, of course he isn't going to see Y/n. 'Cause they live here-"

"I haven't seen them."

"..." That was a little more surprising, but just a little more. It still couldn’t mean anything... right?

"With all the shit you do, I would be surprised if you even saw them on a semi-regular basis." Jason crossed his arms, still not convinced — not entirely anyway. Yet Bruce could only exhale softly, the action bothering Jason even more.

"It's just a possibility. I'm trying to find them. Think you can help out?" Bruce clarified before asking. Additional help would definitely be great, especially because it meant that they could find you faster. He could find you faster.

"What makes you think I'm gonna do that?"

"Did know that Y/n wrote a song that's a tributed to you?"

"... What."

Bruce sighed, "You don't have to do it because I asked you to, or even because I want to find them. You can do it for yourself, Jason. But I'll leave that decision to you." Then, he just walked off to continue his search for you, and the other occupants of the Manor. Leaving Jason by himself, alone...

"That bitch-" Jason cursed under his breath as he walked off, deciding that he'll help look. Though only so he could ask you if Bruce was bullshiting him or not, and not for any other reason...

... Wait, you wrote songs? Like, actually?

Jason just shook his head, already upset enough as he shoved the thought to the side. When he found you he could ask, and how hard could that be? The Manor was only so big, and besides, you were just one person. He could probably find you before Bruce if he just looked in the right places, but the only thing now was finding those places...

Okay, so maybe he saw the problem, but still. This couldn't be too hard. You were the only one in the whole family who wasn't a vigilante, and so it was only about a matter of time.

Nevertheless, Jason began looking around as well, trying to figure out where he should look as he mindlessly checked every other room he came across. Where would you even go anyway? He'd probably check your room first but he figured that Bruce had already checked there, and it wasn't like Jason knew where your room even was. Though he just chalked that up to how infrequent his incredibly short visits were.

Still, he didn't even know where to start, and would rather avoid searching the entire Manor if he could. He tried to scratch his brain for anything but he just... had no idea.

Well, okay, he had one idea, but that was only because of one night. Even then he's still not sure it was you who he saw on the-

["Master Y/n? Are you alright?"]

Jason's thought process was cut off by a sudden voice. He immediately recognized it as Alfred's, and a realization hit him. Right! He should look for Alfred first, he'd know where you are. Alfred practically knew everything about everyone in the Manor, so he'd lnow something for sure.

So, he followed the sound until he stood in the doorway of one of the lounges. The television was on and playing some kind of recording, but Jason paid no mind to it.

Confused, Jason called out, "Alfred?"

When he didn't receive a response, he huffed as his eyes drifted to the television. What was playing, anyway?

You — a smaller, younger version of you — stood in a door way, looking out in the hall before turning back to the camera. Big, innocent eyes looking up. Looking at Jason.

You couldn't have been no older than eight or nine.

[You gave a little nod with a small hum, "I'm okay, Alfred. Just... waiting, like you said."]

A small, soft huff could be heard from the other end of the camera, and the camera moved to be placed down a counter of some kind. Which revealed Alfred to be the one having been recording everything so far.

["Yes, well. How about we do a little something while we wait, hm?" Alfred asked, moving a stool closer to the counter — moving the camera again to be placed on the kitchen isle this time.]

Ingredients and tools used for baking could be seem on the counter. The stool Alfred had place was next to where he was standing, and a good distance away from the stove.

[You looked at Alfred curiously, "What are we going to do?"]

["Oh, nothing too much, Master Y/n. But... I do require a bit of assistance baking this cake, that is if you'd like to help, of course." Alfred patted the top of the stool as he spoke, "Though you can always just watch, if you'd like."]

[You perked up at what Alfred said, climbing up onto the stool enthusiastically with a smile. "I wanna help!" You exclaimed, looking over the ingredients before looking back at Alfred, "But... what cake are we making?"]

[Alfred hummed, pretending to think before be looked back down at you, "Well, what kind of cake would you like, Master Y/n? It is your birthday after all."]

["Really?" When Alfred nodded, you gasped excitedly before suggesting your favorite flavor at the time.]

["Well then, let's get started, shall we?"]

From there, the rest of the recording was of you and Alfred baking. With Alfred helping you when he had to, and laughing lightly when you would inevitably make a mess.

Laughs and jokes were exchanged, and it was probably the happiest Jason has ever seen you... which made him feel weird in a way. He didn't like it, not one bit, and yet he continued to watch the old, wholesome memory play out before him.

Jason watched as you got a bit of flour on your nose and how Alfred wiped it off. He watched as while Alfred was deciding on the shape of the cake, you gathered all the different colors and types of sprinkles you could find, and was looking at a particular color of food coloring. How you nearly fell trying to grab the food coloring, and how Alfred just narrowly managed to catch you. How after that, Alfred visibly recovered from the near heart attack he had gotten from watching you fall, and just watched you add the food coloring to the frosting after you had thanked him for catching you, and apologized for falling.

... It got Jason thinking, if only a little bit.

He didn't know much about you, not really anyway. Even if his visits were few and far inbetween, not to mention incredibly short, someone would think that he'd catch onto a few things about you, or just generally have more interactions with you, but he didn't. All he really knew was that you knew how to play the violin really well, but that was assuming that who he saw that night really was you. Even if he doesn't know who else it'd be.

Jason still remembered that one occurrence despite how long it's been since then... but that was for a different time. He had to focus now, but he still couldn't help but watch the little version of you trying to frost the cake without being too messy, but failing miserably.

It did get him thinking about how many small moments he had missed with you, and just... how little time he had actually spent around you.

Obviously, you weren't a little kid anymore. After all, the last time he remembered seeing you — you were already a teenager. Though was that really a good thing? Jason did remember having some kind of interaction with you in the past... but it wasn't much of anything, and even then he probably forgot half of those moments. What definitely didn't help is that you both didn't have each other's phone numbers, and the only form of communication you had was seeing each other in person.

.... Okay, maybe this whole 'finding you' thing was definitely a lot harder than Jason had originally thought.

["... Are they going to come, Alfred?" You asked, sitting in front of the cake you and Alfred had just made together, looking up at the camera that Alfred was holding once again.]

[Alfred didn't respond right away, but did eventually say, "I'm afraid not, Master Y/n, but if you'd like we could wait a little longer."]

[You shook your head, looking at the cake before looking back at the camera, "It's okay. We can blow out the candles now, but..." you hesitated, looking down at the table, "could you... stay with me? Please?" You looked away, embrassed for asking but didn't take back what you said.]

[Again, a soft huff came from the other end of the camera. "Of course, Master Y/n."]

After a short happy birthday song, the camera was placed down on the table as Alfred cut the cake. It was only after Alfred had given both you and himself a slice did the footage cut out.

Nothing could describe the face you made when Alfred said that no one was coming. Just like how Jason couldn't even begin to describe what it made him feel.

Even when a new recording started, he could hardly pay attention to it as all he saw was your face staring up at the camera. Expression not necessarily sad or upset, but it was easily the most heartbreaking thing Jason had ever seen. A kid shouldn't have a face like that. You shouldn't have a face like that.

Jason was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Cassandra trying to get his attention, nor did he feel her even pull on his sleeve. All he could think of was you, sitting at that table all by yourself. Alone.

He just turned the other way, practically stomping down the hall as he looked straight ahead, glaring.

He had to find you. Now.

Cass, on the other hand, was just confused. Watching as Jason stormed off before looking back at the recording that was playing on the television. What about it had made Jason sp upset? She didn't know, but she was a bit curious.

Bruce had already confronted her and asked her where you were, and of course she didn't know either. He did mention something about how Damian was trying to help a little, which was a surprise in itself, and how Jason might be trying to search for you too, and had asked her if she could do the same. She agreed, of course, just wanting to help out, but having run into Jason just now? That was... odd. Especially when he suddenly stormed off like that, but that wasn't her main focus right now. She still had to-

["Are you still trying to record this, Alfred?"]

Wait... was that your voice?

Cassandra turned back to the television, only to see the camera pointed towards the floor.

["Of course, Master Y/n. Just give me one moment, I almost have the camera set up."]

Oh, Alfred was there too? What was going on?

[Light laughter was heard before you spoke again, "Here, let me help you."]

The camera began to move, and as it paned up, there you were. A soft smile on your face, shining colored hues looking at the camera as you made a few more adjustments before stepping away.

Now, you definitely looked like a teenager or young adult. Voice more matured and settled, almost calm in a way.

["There. That should be good, what do you think?" You asked Alfred, tilting your head to the side a bit, most likely looking at the butler.]

["I have to agree, Master Y/n. Everything should be working properly." Alfred then came into frame, moving towards the counter as you moved around the kitchen isle to follow him. "Now, what is it that you wanted to make this year?"]

["Oh! Right, well..." and you told him, already grabbing a few necessarily ingredients from around the kitchen.]

It wasn't long before the two of you started baking again, but this time around you were clearly more experienced than your younger self — not that Cass was aware of that anyway. You both did your own parts, working exceedingly well together as the conversation between the two of you was nothing but natural.

Cass never saw you talk so naturally, or even knew you could bake, but there were a lot of things she didn't know about you.

She could see that in the footage, you were really relaxed and happy. Almost at ease as you skillfully moved about, as if knowing the necessary steps to make what you were hoping to bake by heart, and how you navigated the kitchen made it look as if you almost knew it as well as Alfred did. It was almost refreshing to see you just be so... in tune with your surroundings, and Cass almost wished she had been there to see you bake for herself. Though she could settle watching footage of you bake for now.

Even if she didn't know why you were even baking in the first place until Alfred mentioned something about a gift for your Birthday, and how that led you to talking about some of the things your friends had given you.

This was... your birthday? Just you and Alfred?

That didn't feel right... but then again, she didn't even know when your birthday was to begin with — and now that she thinks about, had you ever celebrated Christmas with everyone? As a whole family?

... She wasn't sure.

["Are you certain that you don't want to wait, Master Y/n? You never know, someone could show up this time." Alfred asked, looking at you with slight concern.]

[You only smiled, "I'm sure. Besides, even if any of them did come, we both know that it'd be on accident." You laughed lightly to yourself, looking down at the pastry both you and Alfred had made together. "I doubt they even know when my birthday is, but that's okay." You looked back at Alfred, your smile still happy but... there was something off with it.]

["I've told you before, haven't I? You're all the company I need in this house. I'm happy just spending my birthdays like this with you." You took a piece of the pastry and ripped it off before holding it in the air, as if doing a toast, and held it toward Alfred. "So, happy birthday to me?"]

[Alfred sighed softly, but could only smile as he took his own piece of the pastry, copying your actions as he held the piece toward you, "Happy birthday, Master Y/n."]

The footage cut right after, and suddenly Cass found herself in a similar position that Jason had been in just a few moments ago. Just staring at the screen, unsure what to do with this new information, the weight on her chest growing.

Had you really spent every birthday like that? If so... then why didn't you tell anyone? Or had you tried, only for nothing to come of it?

The thought alone hurt, strangely enough, and all Cass wanted to do was... well. She wasn't sure.

She wanted to do so many things, and yet she didn't know if anything would work. Or if anything she could do would fix... well, anything at all.

She wanted to try your baking and... and celebrate a birthday with you. Or maybe she just felt obligated to do so after having seen the recording, but a big part of her did mean it. Especially because she didn't want you to feel alone or anything ever again, not after seeing the extent it went to. Though perhaps there was some irony in that thought that Cass failed to realize.

Regardless, Cass found herself walking off too. Completely missing the figure who turned off the television, and unplugged the camera from it that held all of the footage both her and Jason were shown.

Cass was practically speed walking as she checked the library — remembering have seen glimpses of you in there before — while Jason checked the music room, only for both to turn up equally empty. Yet they kept looking. Everyone did.

Dick tried calling and texting you while trying to see if there was anywhere you could be outside of the Manor. Tim ended up helping as he ran into Dick, and was basically locating and tracking down all the places you've been to with the help of your notebooks and awards in your room. All the while listening to some very earlier pieces you've wrote and played on the mp3 player he found in your box.

Bruce was still looking all over the Manor for you, each minute that passed making him more paranoid and worried. What started as a small possibility was growing into a certainty and he did not enjoy that at all. Damian had decided to search for Alfred, since it seemed like the smartest choice if they wanted to end this quickly. Yet when he did find Alfred and asked him where you were, it turned out that Alfred didn't know where you were either.

While yes, he did know some of the teachers and coaches you've had in the past, he didn't know where you were at this exact moment. How could that be? It was simple, really.

Alfred hadn't seen you in a while either, and once that little piece of information spread around the family... what followed after could only be described as chaos.

The Manor was practically flipped upside down as Bruce, Damian, Jason, and Cass searched for you. Not a single room went unchecked, and when they still came out empty handed, their own worries began to fuel each others.

Dick was the first one to suit up and head out, already calling Barbara as night fell on Gotham, with Tim beginning to suit up — yet Jason had beat him to the punch and was out the second the Manor was cleared. Cass was next to follow, with Bruce and Damian not following too far behind. Tim only left after informing Stephanie — and after downloading some of your songs — and telling Alfred to keep a look out just in case you came back home.

In just a few hours, what started as an unusually uneventful and calm, quiet day for the family, quickly turned into one of the most panicked induced searches and painful night of their lives.

All because of you.

---------

You were tuning your guitar calmly, tapping your foot to the melody playing in your head as you hummed. The silence surrounding you was peaceful for a chance, and didn't feel suffocating or as unnerving as the silence in the Manor did.

Honestly, it took a bit of getting used to but after a few weeks you had grown to love it. Waking up everyday and having someone there to not only greet you, but actually acknowledge you also took a bit of getting used to, but you managed much more easily with that.

Sure, there were other things as well, but you eased into it and had come to accept these small things as just parts of your new life. Yet, you still found yourself appreciating and noticing the smallest things, and almost crying over them too.

It had been a few months since you had left the Manor, and honestly you couldn't be happier.

You now shared an apartment with one of your closets friends, and your career helped you cover your half of the rent, as well as other expenses. You had truly found comfort with this new lifestyle, and even if you'd like to move out of Gotham one day — you could settle for this for now.

This, you believed, was what peace truly felt like.

Even when your phone started to go off like crazy — you just took one look at who it was and rolled your eyes, putting your phone on silent as you placed it face down on the table in front of you. You didn't know what Dick and Tim needed so badly, but you were sure they'd be able to figure it out themselves. After all, they were the sons of the world's greatest detective, right? They could handle themselves.

So you just leaned back into your couch, sighing softly as you mindlessly strummed away at your guitar, smiling a little to yourself when the tune was just right. Creating a melody came all too naturally to you, and all you did was carry it on — humming softly as countless ideas filled your head. A small song beginning to form, even if unintentionally.

A song that went on — with the suffering of Gotham going on in the background. The city being cleared out and searched by the vigilantes that dared to protect it, all of it being done just to look for one person. You.

The shouts and screams served as the base, with the shattering of glass and bones being the lower kick, perhaps. The heart beat serving as the tempo, and so on.

So, just as you had years ago, you played on. Calm and happy in your own little world, unaware of the horrors to come — and destruction being made in your name.

–––––

Well, that's long, isn't it?

Might be making a another post that kind of details what some of the others did before everything went to hell? We'll see. Maybe.

Sorry again for any mistakes, especially towards the halfway point/end there.

#platonic yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere x gn reader #gn reader #platonic yandere #honestly this is probably the longest post i've ever made

[rineptune]

hello! can i get a lucifer x fallen angel!reader, that is maybe seen as another parental figure for charlie, and there’s some jealousy from luci in the beginning before he realizes how much care reader has towards charlie? if that makes sense?

hell’s greatest parent.

summary: in which charlie thinks of you as a parent figure and once again lucifer’s genuinely distraught and scared that his one and only daughter would no longer need him.

a/n: he’s jus a little insecure, but lucifer’s doing his best and that’s what matters!!

lucifer could feel it. an irritated, uptight smile threatening to make itself known in his face.

“what was that, kiddo?” lucifer asks charlie.

“yn’s going to teach me how to make pancakes!” charlie answers. “it’s a great bonding activity that enhances familial relationships. they told me all about how pancakes made in heaven are soo different from the ones made here— i just had to ask if they could teach me!”

“she’s quite the persistent lady, your highness,” you chuckle. “i’m assuming she got that from you?”

“...yes,” he grumbles, straightening his posture. “but, charlie! why didn’t you just call me? no offense, but i make out-of-this-hell pancakes, too!”

“because, dad! you weren’t awake yet, and i wanted to surprise everyone here in the hotel with heaven’s recipe for a devilishly delicious breakfast,” she preened, hands clasped together. stars are shimmering in her eyes, possibly a candidate to outshimmer the pentagram in the skies.

lucifer sighs, defeated. “oh, alright... but i’ll watch.”

“ok! this could be a refresher memory for you,” she beams. “what first, yn?”

“well, to start, we need to wear our aprons.”

you held up one for charlie, the fabric littered with small red hearts for its pattern, which she gingerly took with delighted awe. you also offered one to lucifer, but instead of accepting what you had brought with you, he simply snapped his fingers, and with what’s left of his angelic magic, he conjured one of his own, which he wore with a smug grin.

“how efficient.”

“heh, i could do a lot more than that,” he proudly says.

“i would never doubt it, your highness.”

your indifference to lucifer’s (perfectly wrapped under the radar) jealousy is just perfect. not only did he deal with the radio demon, who had the balls to even duel him in a sing-off—now he had to win a cooking contest, too?

it’s crazy!

crazy if he doesn’t participate in it and properly show you why he’s the boss!

“and careful to put the batter, charlie,” you guide her hand to pour the batter onto the heated pan.

“whoa—.. i did it!” she cheers.

“good job, sweetie,” he tells her.

lucifer is on charlie’s left, observing how his daughter works herself around the kitchen. he had to admit, you were a pretty good teacher; that even he learned a thing or two about making pancakes.

would you look at that?

lucifer learning new things that he already thought he knew.

“now, what would you want to go with your breakfast, charlie?” you ask.

“there’s bloodied-sweet syrup, mini fresh eyeballs that a friend of alastor brought in earlier; oh— ah, here it is,” you pulled out maple and strawberry syrup along with some butter and fruits— actual fresh fruits that you managed to smuggle in your bag before the fall.

“what?! they actually have maple syrup, and not stale-oak sap?”

“yes, they do,” you chuckle. “would you like to try them?”

“do i? i’m so happy to!”

lucifer sits at the end of the table as charlie decorates her pancakes with the toppings and condiments of her liking. a smile is seen on his face.

he remembers the time when it used to be like this, simple and sweet. how times have gone by, really.

“pancakes?”

your offer brought him out of his trance of thought. a breakfast shaped into one of his favorite things in the world.

a duck with a little apple slice on its head.

“thank you, though you didn’t have to go through the trouble of...” lucifer’s absolutely speechless, and if it weren’t for the façade he has on, you bet your wings he would’ve been jumping up and down in joy. “serving it in this shape.”

“it’s no trouble at all, really.” you smiled.

and holy hell does that smile ease his worries.

“dad, oh my gosh! thesh are twe besht pancwakes, ever! like, weally—the absholoo best!” charlie says, words somewhat audible because she had her mouth full.

“charlie, dear, don’t talk while your mouth is full; otherwise you’ll choke,” you sigh, yet there was a smile on your lips, taking initiative to wipe away the excess syrup on the corner of her mouth with a damp cloth.

charlie giggles sheepishly, nodding.

“than’ weu!”

the realization sets in when lucifer sees this. that you actually care for charlie and are not there to replace him totally. he’s reassured, and happy as he finally takes a bite of his warm, delicious breakfast.

#classic ໒꒱ ink #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x you #lucifer fluff

[justtwotired]

“Back the fuck off.”

Summary: you and Regulus recently broke up over stupid teenage reasons. It was a really bad fight and you two haven't spoken since, though both regret your actions. At a Gryffindor house party, he spots you kissing Mathew smith, the Gryffindor seeker, who Regulus absolutely despises.

Pairing: Regulus Black x Gryffindor!reader

Warnings: swearing, kissing, fighting, a bit of sexual assault.

⬇️unamused⬇️

Regulus stands at the drinks table with Barty as they are being pure Slytherins looking around with judging and cold looks. Neither of them wanted to come to said party, but Evan -who was currently participating in a round of beer pong- insisted they went.

His eyes travel the crowd and he spots them, making him narrow his eyes. He knew she was doing it to spite him, he knew even she hated Smith, but there she was, sticking her tongue down his throat.

"Ohh, she is playing with fire." Barty seemed to start enjoying the party the moment he followed Regulus gaze. "Shut the hell up." Regulus head snapped towards him and then his eyes traveled back to the girl and that stupid idiot she was kissing.

His hands where slowly starting to roam under her clothes and that's when he couldn't take it anymore and pushed himself of the table making his way towards them.

- 15 minutes earlier -

"They are absolute morons." Y/n shook her head as she watched Sirius and James jump of the table they'd just been dancing on. "Tell me about it." Remus rolled his eyes.

She took a sip of her drink as she watched the boys make their way over to them. "Oh, their coming pretend you don't know them." Peter said and they all quickly avoided eye contact with the two boys. "Oh haha, you're so funny." Sirius said sarcastically.

His eyes fell on Y/n and they narrowed. "Boring again, I see." He said as he eyed the glass with clear liquid in her hands. "But thinking about it, I could use some water," he took it out of her hands and a horrified expression formed on her face.

"Sirius no wait-" but she was to late and he took a sip and moments later spit it out, coughing. "Y/n, you absolutely menace to society." He said handing the glass back to her.

"Are you alright, pads?" James asked laughing. "I am, but she isn't, what psychopath just casually sips straight vodka." He grimaces and James' eyebrows race.

"What? It's good, you're all just over dramatic." She said taking another sip, making Peter chuckle a bit, as he himself had made that same mistake before.

They all looked up at the sound of the portrait swinging open and watched an excited Evan and annoyed Barty and Regulus walk into the common room.

Y/n rolled her eyes, and then they landed on someone and a smirk formed onto her face. "Y/n, no." Remus said and she looked at him. "What do you mean no?" She asked.

"Regulus just walked in and your wearing that smirk? Whatever your planning, no." He said and she rolled her eyes and giggled. "It's just a bit of fun." She said, standing up to leave the couch and pushing the glass into Sirius' hands.

"Here, you can have that." She says and he looks at it in disgust. "No thanks." And puts it down.

"Smith, hey." She greats the seeker and he turned to her. "Y/n, looking ravishing as always." He said with a shit eating grin as he looked her up and down and stopped at her chest.

She would slap him in the face if it wasn't for her plan just unfolding:

Make Regulus as jealous as possible.

"I can say the same about you." She said, her words slightly slurring. Smith took a step closer, snaking an arm around her waist. Everyone in Hogwarts who had a brain knew he had liked her since fourth year, which was one of the reasons Regulus despised him, but also the other way around.

Everyone in Hogwarts with a brain also knew Smith was an actual, selfish, prick. He had a reputation of cheating, one girl even claimed he had cornered her once, but no one knew if it was true, as she had a reputation of lying.

"I heard your single now." He grinned as he pulled her closer, his breath smelled like alcohol. "It was such a shame you where with... him." He sounded disgusted at the last words.

She let out a sarcastic laugh, starting to maybe regret her decision a little bit... but only a little.

"Well, that's over now... sooo." She trailed her finger passed his white button up. She looked up at him and he smashed his lips against hers, she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

Her eyes fluttered open to look around the room and they landed on Regulus who wasn't looking at her as his eyes traveled around the room, but she could see them slowly make their way over to them and she closed her eyes again as Smith tongue slipped into her mouth.

They broke apart for a moment before they kissed again and slowly his hands started to travel, one slipping into her skirt and the other under her top.

His lips detached from hers and made their way to her neck and then he whispered in her ears. "Seeing such a beautiful girl like you with a Slytherin. Tsk, I'll show you what it's like to be with a real guy." He whispered before going back to kissing her neck and his hand suddenly slipped into her panty's.

She was taken by surprise but before she could do anything about it, someone else did.

Regulus had made his way trough the crowd, pushing people aside and watching as Smith went further into her skirt and kissing her neck, it made his blood boil.

"Back the fuck off." He said and Smith looked up and grinned, taking his hand out of her skirt, and Regulus almost thought she looked relieved.

They made eyes contact and he narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you want." She said, obviously with alcohol in her system. "Indeed, what do you want?" Smith asked as he put and arm around her waste and his finger tips rested under the band of her skirt.

"I want you, to get your filthy hands of her." Regulus said with a threatening tone. "And why would I do that? Such a pretty girl, and she isn't yours anymore? I wouldn't even have cared is she still was, I had plans anyway." He laughed dryly and Y/n looked rather horrified as she questioned if that would have been against her will.

"Leave her alone." Regulus demanded and Smith smirked. "And why would I do that, she seemed to be rather enjoying me."

Suddenly, Y/n started to really regret her decision, and grabbed his wrist to stop him from going any further. "What is it baby, you don't like it?" He asked and she sighed and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Stop, I want you to stop." She told him and he huffed. "You don't tell me when to stop." He said and pulled the hand on his wrist away with his other hand.

She knew she had gotten herself in this situation, it was her own fault, but now she really wanted to get out. Suddenly he let go of her and Y/n hadn't processed the sickening crack.

Regulus had punched him right in the nose and blood was rapidly streaming out. His grey eyes fell on Y/n who stared shocked.

He grabbed her arm and then dragged her out of the common room and eventually stopped in a hallway.

"What is wrong with you?" He asked angrily. "Do you know how much worse that could have been?" He asked, he was furious as he turned his back to her.

"Honestly, Y/n that was such a stupid move! And for what? Making me jealous? Well it worked, happy now?" He turned to her as he yelled, but stopped as he watched her.

Her hands where shaking and tears streamed down her face. His features softened as he walked towards her and took her hands in his, placing a soft kiss on each of them.

"It's alright." He whispered to her and she shook her head. "No, no it's not, I'm so sorry, it was a stupid move. I didn't think it trough." She said as more tears streamed down her face and she sniffed as her nose was now full and starting to run.

He wiped away the tears with his sleeve and kissed her on the forehead. "It's alright, Ma Cherie." He whispered as he hugged her. "Come, you need to get some sleep." He said and then led her over to the Slytherin dorms.

She was sitting on his bed as Regulus took a T-shirt and sweatpants out of his closet. He hands rested on her top and then looked at her. "May I help you here?" He asked and she nodded.

"Use your words, darling." He said softly, he always requested she used words when asking for her permission to do things like this, as he didn't want her to regret later.

"Yes." She croaked out and he slowly lifted it over her head and helped her pull the clean shirt over her head. He did the same with the pants and then tucked her into his bed.

He changed out of his clothes to, and joined her, pulling her into him and kissing her forehead. "I love you, my little dove." He said and she murmured something along the lines of "I love you too." Back before falling asleep.

#harry potter #marauders era #regulus black #regulus black x reader #harry potter x reader #james potter #marauders x reader #marauders x y/n #peter pettigrew #remus lupin #Reggie #James potter x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #wolfstar #remus Lupin x reader #regulus black smut #Sirius black x reader #lily evans #lily potter #rosekiller #Evan rosier #barty crouch jr

[aphroditesmoon]

wish you'd ask me

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

summary: you're not good at reading subtle hints, clarisse realises that maybe she should've been more upfront with her feelings for you.

warnings: fluff, oblivious!reader, clarisse is down bad, reader is very neurodivergent coded, kissing, flirting, title n fic inspired by 'Wish You'd Ask Me' by Matt Maltese.

A/N: thank you for 1.9k followers!! I love you all dearly, my ask box and dms r always open, im glad that my writing is being enjoyed by so many people<3

wc: 4.5k

You have been in camp half blood for more than 4 years. You have made yourself at home for the last several years. 

It was easy to view yourself as lesser or inadequate in comparison to other mortals during your days in the real world before you were sent to camp. The world has never failed to remind you of how different you were. Always too much or not good enough, always special and never normal

And it wasn't like you were dying for some sort of diagnosis to justify why you are the way you are, but upon discovering that you were actually a demigod, it felt like all the questions you've been harboring to yourself was finally answering themselves. 

Everything clicked. Everything made sense, though at the same time, it felt impossible. You were a very confused little girl when you first arrived at camp. A girl who just wanted someone to tell them that it'll all be alright in the end.

And you still remembered the first person to hold you by your shoulders and made you look into their eyes as they told you that it was all going to be okay.

The girl with beautiful long curls and dark piercing eyes. The girl that everyone else, apparently, was afraid of.

But you could never be afraid of Clarisse La Rue. 

Not with the way she smiles when every time she sees you, the way she never fails to make you feel included even in activities you're not capable of participating in. Not with the way your whole body electrifies every time your skin touches, when your hands brush against each other. 

It didn't matter what anyone think, because no one could change the perception you've built of her. Clarisse La Rue is good. Or at least she is to you.

When you first heard of the rumours surrounding her, you did think better than to force a friendship on her. You strayed away from her and stuck to your cabin siblings and your books, but you noticed daily how she'd still go out of her way to talk to you at least once a day.

It didn't need to be a long conversation, just a passing acknowledgement. An easygoing 'hey, how've you been doing.' Sometimes she'd even go as far as cracking a joke with you.

With how serious her face is whenever she make the jokes, you'd have to think twice as hard and thrice as faster than another person to try and guess if she was being genuine or not so you could fit in a necessary laugh when you needed to.

Even as her anger became more apparent because of the new kid's accidental climb to fame and embarrassing the Ares' cabin, she still found time to make a conversation with you.

It had been long since you tried to ignore or avoid her. You learned that her attention towards you is harmless, and that she seemed much more comfortable telling you certain things compared to others. If she has been viewing you as some sort of safe box, then you don't really mind it. You liked listening to her talk and keeping her heart's intent as your secret.

You too, talking to her. To some people, you are reserved,  

and to others, talkative. Either way, people find it easy to discard you at any moment they decide you are irritating.

But Clarisse listens. And she asks questions, she's patient- much patient that anyone could anticipate or guess. 

It may be hard for others to believe, but Clarisse is more complex than she seems. She had the capacity to be gentle, and she had the capacity to respect boundaries. The more time you spent with her, the more that side becomes easy for you to access.

Today, however,  marks a new record for your friendship with her. A few weeks ago, she had informed you of her newfound interest in the history of folklore monsters. What a coincidence that you were currently self-studying on that specific topic.

She insisted that you hook her in on whatever it is you're learning. She had even gotten you a doughnut to eat together outside the library as you told her of your insights of dragons and their theorized blindness and incapability to differentiate a variety of prey.

The conversation went well, she seemed immensely in awe of your knowledge and had no problem telling you how she felt. 

You even gave her some book recommendations, though you knew she wasn't much of a reader.

You felt a shift in your relationship that night and had spent the next three days studying more and more about the topic. And today, you had asked her to spend the evening with you. 

You shouldn't feel so nervous asking her to hang out. That is what friends do, after all.

She found you in the library, sitting on the floor in between two large bookshelves. She had been right on time and enthusiastically so. The two of you sat together, hidden by the shelves as some semblance of privacy. 

Clarisse looked confused when you had explained that you indeed wanted to spend the rest of the day in the library, but she accompanied you anyways.

You could never get sick of the smell of the books. Old and new, they all have some nostalgic past tied in between the pages, begging to be discovered. 

You had your back on the walls with tinted windows above your head as she's seated opposite of you in a criss-crossed position.

Today, the library isn't as packed as usual. There were still people walking in and out and checking out the books on the counter, but not too many that it became obnoxiously loud and annoying. 

After finishing another book of Monsters and how to spot them, you're feeling knowledgeable enough to explain the lore of the Giants to Clarisse, she had asked you about this the other day, giants have been long extinct to the point that some might even say they may have never even existed. And so you were interested in sharing with her all of the information you have learned about the majestic species of a beast.

You started with the general information. The basic understanding of what a Giant is the mythhs of Giants and the validity of those sources. Clarisse listened closely in the beginning, never interrupting you unless she had an actual question.

She seemed in awe of the stories you tell her of. You don't blame her, for you yourself have been most interested in the topic of Giants.

You were an hour an a half in when noticed her attention faltering. She leaned against the cases of books, her eyes twitched slightly when you began to explain the different types of giants, and the difference of how they operate.

Her hands are folded together on her lap, and you can feel her listening in on everything you're telling her as she adds in some commentary here and there, but you also felt that she wasn't entirely in on the conversation.

The dim lights of the library made the atmosphere feel warm and secluded, even with its vast space and many other campers hanging around in the other tables and shelves. You made sure to keep your voice low as you spoke in fear of the librarian kicking you out. 

You had a good reputation with the library workers, they liked how organized and polite you were. 

"A lot of people think their greatest strength is their size, which is valid, they are huge, but their real weapon is their mouth." You told Clarisse, ignoring the litter of books by your left that you had brought over for reference.

"They kiss you to death?" She asks suspiciously. You laughed shortly and shook your head. "No, I mean their breath."

She responds with an 'ohh.' 

"They're giants, so their mouth is large too, and you can easily tell what they had for breakfast even from their tall height. Their breaths are also known to be so rancid it could kill you, because they don't exactly eat what we eat." 

She raises a brow as she stretches her hands upwards. "Isn't that ogres?" 

"It's both." You confirmed.

You were about to continue your explanation but halted by instinct as you notice how her mouth keeps pursing together as if unsatisfied, and she has that look on her face that mimicked a confused expression. You're don't think there's anything to be confused of.

"Are you okay?" You asked her worriedly. Clarisse sits up straighter at the question and waved a hand off to assure you she's fine. "Of course, no yeah- I'm fine."

"You seem bored, you're not really interested in what I'm saying are you?” She opens her mouth to counter your words but hesitates to say anything. 

"I- well, I like giants-" She attempts, "-no you don't. " 

"No. I don't." She admits with a sigh. "But I thought you said you were interested in these kind of stuff?" You questioned her. "Well, yeah, like the general idea of it. I mean, I don't hate it, and I like hearing you talk about it." She answers with a shrug.

"Then why do you look disappointed? If you didn't want to come, you could've just told me. I wouldn't get mad." You told her honestly. It was conflicting for you to see her so confused on what to say, being so picky with the words she chooses.

You figured she's probably reluctant to hurt your feelings. That is a notion you're used to. You'd rather she tell you the truth to your face than to be catered around like a time ticking bomb that everyone's so afraid might explode at any time. 

"When you asked me out yesterday, you told me this would be an 'evening to remember." She tells you with such confidence like it was an explanation to her weird behaviour today.

"You don't think this is an evening to remember?" You sincerely inquire.

"No, I do! I just- well, when you said that I didn't think you'd mean we'd be doing this." Your frown deepens as you try to figure out what she means, eyeing her body language closely. “What do you mean? I told you I wanted to hang out.” 

A part of you is offended. She was the one who had said she liked hearing you speak, why would she be disappointed that this was your idea of spending time together?

"I don't know, I thought we'd just be doing...something else?"

It didn't matter what she had really meant with that. You felt completely embarrassed once she finished her sentence. Why was it that everyone else had no problem having long conversations with their friends, but when it came to you, it's all too awkward, unnecessary, and odd? 

You liked Clarisse, you considered her your friend. Sometimes you wonder if it could ever be more, but you never entertain those thoughts because you don't want to ruin what the two of you already have. 

But moments like these resemble a huge slap in the face by the universe.

You couldn't even be good friends with her, how ridiculous of you to think that there could ever be something more.

"Okay, um, maybe we should just go back to our cabin." You decided whilst standing up and picking up the stack of books you're currently borrowing from the library, ready to leave the place without waiting for her.

"Hey, wait." She called out as you walked past her. You spared her a glance, trying your best not to show how upset you are.  “We're friends." She says it so much like a question that you weren't sure if she's even sure of the fact herself until she continued speaking. "I like hanging out with you."

Another thing that you weren't sure if she really meant. "Sure." You replied thinking it's the most suitable response. 

Before she could say anything else, you turned around and started picking up your pace until you disappeared out of her sight.

—

You have been consistently ignoring Clarisse. Which proved to be harder than expected.

When you pass by her camp or the training ground, you make a mental note to always look down or to your front as to never accidentally cross eyes with her.

And everytime you hear her call out your name, you keep walking like you didn't even hear her, knowing that she wouldn't be bold enough to call for you again. After all, she still had a reputation to uphold.

If ignoring her wasn't hard enough, having to deal with how you felt for her is worse.

You've been avoiding confrontation with yourself for weeks even before you decided to go no contact with her.

And so far, you thought you've been handling it pretty well. Except for days where you don't see her where she's expected to be. You tell yourself that you don't care as you make your way to training in the day and reading in the evening, and yet you still go back on your own words when you asked a passerby Ares kid on where his cabin leader was.

"She's dunking some kid's head into a toilet bowl." Of course she was.

You thanked the dude and went back on your way to your cabin. It's close to dusk, the sky is turning orange and the sun is dipping itself below the earth. You take your time returning to your cabin as you enjoy the way the sun slowly removes itself from anyone's viewing.

You wondered to yourself if things like these are what makes you weird or off-putting to some people.

Was enjoying nature and having niche interests only cute when it's done by girls pretty enough to be cool or if it's only in romance movies or books.

You don't find yourself weird, in fact you think all of your hobbies are pretty common and usual, and yet the way Clarisse had spoken to you at the library last week had made you feel unnatural.

You had wanted to do normal people things with her, but maybe your perception of normal is different to her.

Either way, you are pretty hurt with how she reacted. You loved her still, of course. It's kind of hard to unlike the girl you've been obsessed with since you were 15.

Once you finally reach your cabin, you quickly put down all of your books and your tiny sling back by the side before making it to the shower to refresh yourself before dinner.

You thought it hilarious of how hard you're trying not to care about Clarisse, and yet as you're cleaning yourself up, changing your clothes and attempting to read at least 15 pages of your World's Most Dangerous Beasts book, you could only think of her.

What would it take for her to think that you're cool, what kind of things did she want to do instead of listening to you yap around for 2 hours on what is an equivalent of a boring dinosaur facts, not that you really think dinosaurs are boring.

During dinner, you kept to siblings and had to make yourself finish your plate as your anxiety wrecking thoughts have a way of deriving you of an appetite. You also had to convince yourself to not search for her at the other tables which took more strength than one would expect.

But you succeeded, and you were now sure that the only obstacle left for the day was to try and fall asleep without the thoughts of her keeping you up.

Clarisse is a force, a fierce daughter of Ares, and a cabin leader who had much better things to do then hole up at quiet small places with you.

And just because she was nice enough to mantain a good relationship with you for 4 years, does not mean that you're worth her time. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

That night, you managed to fall asleep after an hour of recalling Harpy facts in repetition. Counting sheeps had never worked on you, so you had to find something much more active to tire out your brain.

You dreamed of Clarisse with her hair down, holding your hand and pulling you closer so she could slip a flower on your ear.

And just as she's looking down at you, moving closer to do what it seemed like to kiss you, you awoke with a jolt, swearing under your breath as if you'd just gotten jumpscared by a ghost.

Someone's palms moved to shut your lips as you're met with a girl, hovering over you in the dark. Clarisse's dark eyes were recognizable, but it sent a shot of adrenaline through your body still.

"Shh." She whispered to your face, hand still keeping your mouth shut. "I'm going to remove my hands now." She whispered again. You nod in understanding and waited for her to pry her hand away from your face.

"What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed as quiet as possible as she helped you sit up.

"I'm sneaking you out." She answers with a wink. "It's 2 in the morning." You waved your hand around at the darkness and sleeping children. "3 in the morning, and yeah, I know. That's why it's called sneaking around." She corrects you with a grin so devilish that if you hadn't known her for a long time, you'd assume she's about to turn you into a new toilet bowl or dumpster boxing victim.

You sighed loudly and glared at her despite your fast beating heart. Her hand remained on top of yours until the minute becomes more awkward and she removes it as if she just remembered that she's been holding your hand.

Without explanation,  she climbed out of your bed and tiptoes to the open cabin door. You're still sitting up and looking at her with conflicted feelings.

Only after she turns back to you, cocking her head towards the entrance, do you give into her request and softly leave the comfort of your bed and trail after her.

"Where are we going?" You asked after her as she kept walking. Instead of responding, she asks you another question back, "Can you swim?"

"We're going swimming?" You watch her shrug in return from behind her and became even more distressed.

"So, is this your idea of having fun and hanging out then?" She laughs drily and slowed down so you could catch up. You walked fast enough until you're beside her and waited for her to talk. "You sound surprised, I would've thought that after 4 years of friendship, you'd know by now that I love doing things that includes active movements."

You did know that, it's a bit hard to not notice how much working out, training and running fuels her even more.

"And why are we doing it in the middle of the night?" The walk towards the lake by the back of the forest was short, considering that your cabin is the closest to the location.

You almost tripped and fell over a stick, but Clarisse was quick to scoop you back up by the back of your shirt. "Thanks." You mumbled to her. "And you haven't answered my question."

Clarisse pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the ground without caring of your presence. You, having more moral obligations than her, twisted your face to your left when she began to pull her trousers off. "Too many people in broad daylight." She tells you.

That is a valid reason, this lake is mostly known as a hook up spot, and true to it's cause, many dating campers have been caught together here during dawn or late evenings.

You braved yourself to turn towards her again slowly and realised that she had already hopped into the water. She had a sports bra on and a boxer.

And though you yourself had a tank top and shorts on, you contemplate the idea of suicide as a better choice than having to strip in front of her.

"Are you gonna get in, or are you just gonna gawk at me from there?" You were grateful for the dark being able to hide your flushed face from her, but deep down, you knew that she probably saw it anyways because of the shining bright moonlight.

"I can't swim." You told her.

"That's fine, the water's not very deep." You ransacked your brain for reasons to decline her offer, but at the same time, a small part of you yearned to take this risk that you've been so afraid of for gods knows whatever reason.

Clarisse is there, in the water and under the moonlight. You are only a few steps away from her. And like she said, the water isn't deep, only waist length. She stares back at you with a raised brow like she's challenging you to join her.

"Turn around first." You tell her. She smirked slightly before slowly spinning to the opposite direction. "You know I've seen you naked before right?"

"What?" You choked out, aghast. "Who do you think changed your clothes for you when you first got to camp." Oh, that.

Your shoulder relaxes as you realize she's talking about the first time you met. "That's was a long time ago." You noted. She hummed im agreement. "Yeah, we've both grown since."

You told her she could turn around once you're inside the water. Forgetting about the heighy difference between you two, the water was high enough to reach your chest, trying your best not to trip underwater the way you always do on dry ground, your hand instinctively reached outnfor her shoulder.

Clarisse held your forearm tightly and drew your closer to her until you're inches away from eachother.

You breathed in sharply and felt the need to fill in the awkward silence. "So, you...like swimming, huh?"

"Yes, evidently so." She answered. "Right right, can't sit still and all that." She actually chuckled at your sarcasm, making you proud of yourself.

"You know, even before I came to camp Half Blood, I use to be a pretty active person, running track, volleyball, sometimes swimming." Your eyes widened in curiosity. "Really?" She nodded.

"The counselor told my mom that I just had so many untapped energy, which I guess is a code for anger issues." Her grip on your forearm moves higher until her palm is over your shoulder.  "She told her that it'd be best for me to find a...healthy way, to channel that energy, and for my strong competitiveness. So I joined what I could, and that's how I spent most of my free time there. Besides, I never was that good academically. So, I ought to at least be good at something, right?"

"You are good." You blurted out. Your embarrassment faded away when you saw her smile. "You think so?"

"Yeah." You assured her. Her other hand had snaked around your waist without you noticing. Only when you moved slightly do you notice her holding you softly.

"The moon is really nice tonight, isn't it?" You said, trying to diffuse the tension. You pointed your finger up to the sky at the singular white orb.

She glanced up and let out a 'huh.'

"I like it when it's bright and whole like this, the moon in all of its glory. You don't even notice the starts around it when it's glowing like that." You could stare at the moom forever, even longer than the way you've been staring at the sun.

You believed in it the way children do with their birthday candle. To you, the moon has always been a symbol of hope or comfort for your future. Your fascination for it existed from when you were a child, the way it'd follow you from behind as you gazed upon it from the back of the car seat whilst your parent drove down the road.

The way it moved above you as you walked home from school, like one of the gods themselves watching over you.

"Nothing compares to the moon." You announced aloud, watching as the clouds around it began to gather over it. "Yeah, It's beautiful." You hear Clarisse speak.

As your head snapped back to her, you found that she had already been facing you.

"I like the moon...but not as much as I like you." She whispered loud enough for your ears only. Her face leans closer to yours, your noses brushing together. "Not as much as I like to hear your voice, when you tell me about your little harpy facts-"

"Oh, I haven't told you about the harpies yet." You cut her off. "I just finished that chapter this morning actually and-"

"-and, you can tell me about it after I'm done talking." You blushed and became silent, letting her speak.

Clarisse exhaled breathily, fanning your face with the subtle warm air. "I like doing things that friends do with you, but I don't want to be your friend anymore."

"Oh."

"I want to be more than friends." She elaborated.

"Oh." Oh.

You feel a sudden tightness in your chest, from anxiety or from butterflies is undecided. "You want to be best friends?" You joked, laughing nervously.

Clarisse snorted at your joke, but she was still grinning widely. "Best friends, If that's what you want to call it."

There was a moment of understanding shared between a second of shared gazes before her lips attached themselves to yours. An urgency, approval, meaning that can't be described by words.

Whatever gentleness there was inside of her before had vanished. Clarisse kissed you like a starved woman. Her lips craved yours like it'd be the last time she'll ever know how you taste like.

Your hands clasped on her shoulder and neck for support as she embraced you tighter to her body. You let her tongue slip into your mouth, meeting your own.

And as they danced together, inhaling all there is in your lips, every secret and every confession that have died on the tip ofnyour tongues, you are sure that no heaven nor hell could tear you open to see you back together like this.

You push her back abruptly, letting fresh air fill your empty lungs. "What's wrong?" Clarisse inquired worriedly.

"Last week." You sighed out, chest still heaving as your thoughts clicked together. "You thought I had asked you on a date, that's why you were disappointed."

She winced at the reminder, and for the first time in your life, you had been lucky enough to witness a flustered Clarisse.

"I'm right." Her silence confirmed. "Oh Clarisse, why didn't you just ask me?"

Huffing loudly, she rolls her eyes in irritation. "I thought I was obvious enough. "

Thinking back on it all, it did seem pretty obvious, but gods were you oblivious. The way you intepreted it all so wrongly.

"I've liked you for so long too." You admitted to her. Her scowl was gone at that, replaced by a teasing smile. "And what are you gonna do about it?" Her mouth returned to yours, letting go of all your fears and holding on to Clarisse like she's your anchor, you close the gap between your lips, welcoming the kind of pleasure that you've never tasted before.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo series #pjo x reader #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #dior goodjohn #wlw

[suiana]

(yandere! foreign exchange student x gn! reader) (thanks for 8k 😍😍)

"can you stop being so annoying?"

"what?"

he stares at you with a raised eyebrow, pouting as he rests his cheek on his palm. with both arms propped up on the table, he reaches out his other arm towards you. obviously you back away in disgust at his affection... and you can't help but notice the way he narrows his eyes at your reaction.

he, as in, your annoying buddy. hiroto yamada, your buddy for the foreign exchange program which you were unwillingly made to participate in.

you knew bad things would happen when you saw the program, yet you were made to participate in it because you had joined the university wellbeing club. curse you and your past impulsive decisions.

honestly, things were fine in the beginning. apart from the fact that you had to socialize with others and waste your breath explaining things in the university... everything was quite alright. he wasn't too extroverted, liked to keep to himself as well...

that was until you started suspecting that he liked you.

you didn't want to believe it. there was no way. like, it's literally the absolute worse thing that could happen that would disrupt your peaceful school life.

so you pretended to not see the obvious signs he threw at you. you treated him like how you used to treat him, aka like a classmate you wouldn't talk to outside of class...

so it wasn't unexpected that he'd get frustrated. in fcat, it was actually a wonder that he managed to go for so long without shouting at you to stop ignoring the signs (he lasted 6 weeks).

eventually he confessed but... you didn't accept. duh. you didn't even like him that way! you didn't even treat him like a close friend so why would you fall or accept his love?

so you rejected him. understandable response.

but he wouldn't take it for an answer.

so he constantly pestered you in hopes that you'd finally give in and say yes. which is what led you to your current situation.

"you know, trying to act like my boyfriend..."

"but I'm just practicing for the future that will happen?"

he raises an eyebrow, seemingly confused as you roll your eyes at his reply. you make no move to explain yourself because you knew that he understood what you meant. he's a smart guy after all. he just likes playing dumb to get on your nerves.

and right now he's doing that.

you honestly wanted to just beat him up but that'll never work out in your favor. so you settle for the next best thing and that's to ignore him. and it always works.

turning around to face away from him, you plug in your ear phones and tune his blabbering out as you attempt to ignore him. it worked for a little bit but he always gets irritated the second you lose interest in him.

"hey pay attention to me..."

he whines softly, tugging on your shirt. you continue to ignore him, humming softly as you scroll on social media. oh this is a nice post-

but the second you move your hand to like it, he yanks the phone out of your grip and hides it in his bag. his face displays an annoyed expression, furrowed eyebrows and downturned lips.

you wanted to smack his face so bad. and you were just about to do that until he speaks in a chilling tone.

"you can't keep ignoring me. you know that we'll end up with each other. it's inevitable."

he mumbles before caressing your cheek. you shiver, eyes wide as your blood runs cold. shit! unconsensual touch! unconsensual touch!

but as much as you hated his touch, you couldn't move away for you were too frozen in fear. he always had a way of scaring you with his voice. and he loved to abuse it.

"you're really going to make me mad... so please don't keep resisting. it's not humourous or cute."

he mutters quietly before giggling as he lets go of your face. all you do is stare at him, still frozen in place as you gulp and finally look away.

god damn it. you really should've fought harder to get out of the exchange program.

#tw yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere foreign exchange student #yandere foreign exchange student x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

[makies]

No Nut November with Honkai Stars Rail Men

How long does :: Jing yuan, Blade, Danheng, Sampo, Gepard, Welt will last NNN

It's May but I'm itching to write No Nut November with honkai star rail men and no one can stop me

Shortest to longest ::

Sampo — A day

Sampo just couldn't resist you. Seeing you sitting so pretty and so lonely on the couch (He's just using you as an excuse) just awakened something within him.

You could feel someone creeping up your legs under the blanket yet you keep your orbs on the television.

"Sampo, didn't you say you're participating in the NNN and you had a bet with the captain of the Silvermane guards?"

"Mhn." He let out a hum, skillfully removing your underwear before sticking his head out of the blanket.

"He won't know... Just one time baby, kay?"

+ It won't be just one time. He wants to have the best of his life while the captain suffers<3 ↑

+ He'd jerk himself while eating you out, making sure to give you another unforgettable night<3.

Danheng — A week.

I can see Dan heng knocking in your room at night, all sweaty. "You're having those nightmares again?" you'll ask and letting him in, and the both of you will cuddle while sleeping. It looks like a wholesome situation but is it?

Dan heng wrapped his arm around your small figure, placing his chin above your head—trying to doze off to sleep. You're always his safe place, his comfort zone. You're so nice that he wants to give a small thank you for using his actions<3

The young adult's hand that was placed in your dress unhurriedly travel at the end of your night gown, his hands ending at the back of your thighs, pulling the dress up til your waist—exposing your clothed cunt.

The raven haired latter could only grunt, feeling his pants getting tighter by every passing second. "Hmn." You groaned, shifting yourself a little and without knowing — Dan heng matches with your move, thrusting his hips upwards.

"Shh, go to sleep darling... let me take care of you."

+ You'll probably wake up while he's rutting into you — him trying to calm you down with a kiss. "It's alright it's alright, this is a gift for you."

Welt — Two weeks and three days

Welt yang could end the whole month if he wanted to. But March joking in front of him; saying that the other men are looking at you while you're out trailblazing at Jarilo VI got his stomach flipping.

"Welt!" You called out, one eye shut, biting your lower lip and opening your neck for welt to have more access. He took that as an acceptance, tossing you on the bed and hovering over you. "What's wrong, love?" You reach out your hand, touching his cheeks whilst the man just furrowed his brows, looking away from you.

"Do you..." He mumbled, making you raise a brow. "Do you also call them like what you call me?" He'll question, making you chuckle. He's so cute, you better show him that he's the only one you call 'love'.

"I love you, darling. Stay with me forever."

+ Welt will definitely join you in your next trailblazing mission or go in your place — gatekeeping you from those people.

Jing Yuan — The last day

Jing yuan is well known for being a patient man. He can endure the whole month without feeling your insides as long as you stay beside him, giving the physical touch and the quality time he needs.

The whole reason for him joining this 'NNN' is you. He wanted to know how long you can endure without him — he wanted to test his pretty lover<3.

It's the second week of november, Jing Yuan is coming home from work and he was welcomed by his lover in a lingerie, already pressing themselves to him. He could also release a chuckle at the situation, his lovely lover looking up at him with a pout in the mouth.

"Baby what would you do if it wasn't me who came home, hm? Letting them see you like that?" He teased, putting a hand on top of your head and a kiss in your forehead.

"I can't do this anymore, Yuan. You won't give in at all."

He'll deal with this every day, just throwing you in the bed and going straight to sleep with you in his arms so you won't do anything naughty.

On the last day, he'll probably give in because you'll come to his office, about to cry; asking him if he still loves you because he's been refusing you for a month.

He won't say a word at first, already flipping you around the table and pressing himself to you.

"I'm sorry baby, let me make it up to you kay?"

+ Will cum a lot inside you since he's been holding back — he's going to tell you specifically the days that he's so hard for you that he could only sleep to avoid touching because of this goddamn challenge.

The guys who actually finished it ::

Gepard — Finished the month

Gepard who made a deal with Sampo that whoever finish the month without touching themselves or their partner gets to have their own bets.

(Gepard :: will arrest sampo)

(Sampo :: gepard will stop chasing him)

And he really did it! There are times where you were really in the mood but the poor guy can't read it since he doesn't have any experience:(.

His job as the captain also helped him get distracted. But the amount of times you came to see him to bring him lunch with a beautiful dress hugging your body so damn good — ah, it makes his head spin. He swears to Aeons — he'll arrest sampo after this and fuck you good.

"Captain, your lover is really beautiful!"

"Yeah, the captain's so lucky!"

"Where'd you meet them, captain?"

His guards cheerfully asked their captain, yet their captain just gave them a smile, waving a hand off and entering his office. "I'm going to eat my lunch, please refrain from entering my office if not necessary."

Such a bad captain he is. Locking the door, Gepard immediately dropped the food, hurriedly opening his armor, putting the hem of his long sleeves in his mouth — revealing his perfect body, hands hurriedly going down to free his cock, hitting his stomach as soon as it was out. God, he was so hard yet couldn't touch himself — how is supposed to eat knowing that the food was given by you?

"Fuck [Y/n], what are you doing to me..."

+ The poor guy doesn't know that he already won:(

+ Will fuck you real good till you pass out. He only looks like an innocent guy on the inside<3.

Blade — Finished the month

Blade isn't the type who can finish the whole month if he's with you so he probably goes out to kafka to give him a task for a whole month and he'll come home at exactly 12 in the midnight at the end of the month, about to enter your door when he heard someone whimpering his name<3.

"Hah, Blade." You moaned your lover's name, a hand placed in your heat, and one in your nipples, toying with it, trying to make yourself cum. You can't. You just can't with your body who's used in the pleasure blade gives you — his long fingers, his long dick fucking you so dumb till you cum several times.

Blade found it amusing when he opened the door yet you still didn't notice him, a smirk display on his face — staring at your whole body intently.

You'll probably change position — turning to your back, face hitting the pillow and fingers in your hole. Sobbing so much when you wouldn't come, then suddenly, a bulge pressed against you — hot breath against your neck whispering;

"Couldn't wait till I get home, hm? Let me help you."

+ Blade would punish you, letting you cum one time and will edge you in the next ones because you didn't wait for him<3.

[Honkai star tail List]

#sampo smut #honkai star rail sampo #sampo x reader #sampo x you #honkai star rail #hsr ff #dan heng #danheng smut #danheng x reader #welt yang #welt smut #welt x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan smut #jingyuan x reader #jing yuan x you #gepard smut #gepard x reader #gepard x you #gepard star rail #blade honkai star rail #blade star rail #blade star rail smut #blade smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail headcanons

[moonstruckme]

can i request poly!marauders x female reader where she gets burnt out easily and most people don't know this cause she like leaves or hides before they can see. So one day they were hanging out all day and she gets burnt out but they don't know what happened so they get all worried when she all of a sudden just looks so drained and tired and can barely smile or anything. Sorry if this doesn't make sense. This happens to me a lot with new friends and because I get so burnt out I sometimes even need other people to explain for me cause talking is even too much. Thank you so much if you do it!! ♡♡♡♡♡I love your fics so much♡♡♡♡

Thanks for requesting gorgeous, love you :)

cw: social burnout

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 948 words

“I just don’t see why they would change them,” James complains, sipping dissatisfiedly at his butterbeer. 

“You’re such a creature of habit,” Sirius sighs heavily, but you all know his boredom is for show. He only wants to rile James. 

“The old quidditch uniforms were just fine,” James is practically monologuing now, staring into the middle distance with a furrow between his brows. His elbow bumps your arm as he gestures helplessly. “Red and gold—those are the Gryffindor colors, red and gold. So why are the new uniforms bright red and yellow?” 

“Maybe so you’re more visible,” you suggest, and Remus’ lips twist amusedly as he leans across the table to sip at your butterbeer. Neither of you had much appetite after your long day of snacking at the quidditch match, so you’d agreed to split one. You’ll admit, you find the two straws poking out of your mug embarrassingly romantic. 

“We look tacky,” James grumbles, slumping a bit in his seat. You see Remus’ arm reach under the table, and you know he’s straining to rub his boyfriend’s thigh consolingly. “The gold was so much better.” 

“At least you can pull off a yellow like that,” Sirius points out. “Can’t say the same for Callaghan. He looked totally washed out.” 

This would be your time to chip in with a comment about how Sirius’ pallid countenance wouldn’t fare so well in the new colors either, but you find you don’t want to. There’s a persistent pressure at your temples. Once you acknowledge it, the rest is impossible to stop. Exhaustion seeps into you like a poison, all the way down to your bones, and you’re done. You’ve been around people—mostly your boyfriends, who you love very much, but people nonetheless—since you woke up this morning, and had talked and laughed and participated all day long, and now you’re done. You want to be home. 

“True, but even he looked better than you would have, Pads,” James voices the zinger for you, he and Remus trading entertained looks when Sirius starts spluttering about how he looks good in every color, thank you very much. 

“Alright, I can’t have any more of this.” Remus pushes the butterbeer towards you decisively. “All yours, dove.” 

You know you haven’t had anywhere near your fair share, but the idea of reaching over, of going through the effort of bringing the straw to your lips, is too much. “Thanks,” you say to him, “I’m good.” 

Remus’ brow creases. You feel horribly dramatic. 

“I’ll take it,” James says merrily, reaching for the mug before Sirius slaps his hand away. 

“Oi, it’s hers.” Sirius gives him a mean look, nudging the butterbeer back towards you. “You’re like a fucking vulture, Prongs. Darling, are you sure you don’t want what’s left? You know he’ll down it in one gulp.” 

“I’m sure.” You try to give him a smile, but even you can feel what a flimsy attempt it is. “Thanks anyway.” 

Sirius’ expression clouds over with concern, and you look at the table. 

“Hey.” James reaches for your hand, squeezing your fingers lightly between his. “What’s up, lovely?” 

You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Just tired.”

Sirius makes an incredulous sound, and you know what he wants to say even though he doesn’t. Yeah, I can see that. “Did something happen?” he asks instead. 

You frown, hating that you don’t have a more satisfying answer. “No.”  

“Dove,” Remus tries to get your attention from across the table. “Are you feeling sick?” 

“No. I’m fine.” 

“You don’t seem fine, honey.” James’ voice is soft, but you can hear the unease in it. “Are you sure you’re not sick?” He touches the back of his hand to your forehead, then lets it slip down to your cheek. “Maybe it was the butterbeer. Rem, are you feeling alright?” 

“I feel normal,” Remus says, seeming at a loss. 

“Hey.” There’s a hand on your leg, and you look up to see Sirius leaning towards you, giving you one of his stern looks. “What’s going on with you, huh? Talk to us.” 

“I’m fine, seriously.” You do your best to look it, sitting up from James’ shoulder, though your dull voice belies your words. “I’m just drained.” 

“Drained how?” he presses. 

“Just…done.” You shrug helplessly. “I’m sorry, I think I want to go home. I just need to be by myself for a little bit, is that okay?” 

“Of course,” Remus says, standing and grabbing his coat. “You don’t have to be sorry, dove. It was just a long day, is that it?” 

You nod, relieved. 

He shrugs on his own coat before grabbing yours, helping you into it when you slide out of the booth. “I understand. It’s been a lot of socializing for one day. You should have told us you were feeling tired, I could have gone home with you after the game.” 

“I didn’t know until it just happened,” you say, but you don’t have the energy to really argue. 

Remus doesn’t want to, either. He kisses the top of your head as he zips your coat, taking your hand in his. 

“We’ll get you home and you can hole up as long as you need,” Sirius promises, pulling on his gloves. “You introverts, so weak.” 

“She’s probably drained because of you,” James teases back. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side. 

“That’s not how it works,” you say quietly, but James shushes you, dipping down to kiss the side of your head. 

“I know, angel, but if you say it is, he’ll be buying your butterbeers for the next week. The month, if you play it right.”

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders one shot #poly!marauders oneshot #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #the marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[moncherellie]

𓆩⚝˚‧no room for the holy spirit ♱꙳˚₊‧

a/n: finally it's here! been screaming into the void abt this one for... ever. a thousand thank yous to @thirsting-over-women who proofread this for me :>> my savior actually. if the religious themes offend you (whether you are religious or have trauma) i encourage you not to read, maybe check out my other works instead :D

content/warnings: 4,500 words, preachers daughter!ellie x fem!reader, nsfw, reader wears a skirt, semipublic/car sex, fingering, oral (r receiving), reader's first wlw experience, sexual awakening?, religious motif, christian themes, mild religious guilt throughout, mentions of religious homophobia, internalized homophobia, ellie smokes a lil, she's a bit mean, fuckin in a church parking lot

The pressures of being a teenage girl were hard enough without the pressures of being a gay teenage girl. Being a gay teenage girl was hard enough without the pressures of being the daughter of a fucking preacher. Ellie had never really bought into the whole 'organized religion' thing, ever the skeptic. Even as a puny 8-year-old, she asked why she had to wake up early every Sunday for something she didn't even like doing. Her attitude didn't change much after that, but her parents got stricter and stricter in an attempt to control her sacrilege. She didn't spend much time with her family, instead seeking familial bonds at school, especially with her mechanics teacher, Mr. Miller. But, you know what they say:

Strict parents raise sneaky children.

And it's true. If Ellie's dad knew what she was doing outside the holy walls of the ministry, he'd have an aneurysm and have her exorcised. But, she always thought, what he doesn't know won't hurt him.

You were the opposite. Raised the same as Ellie, you took to religion and fully participated, though mostly out of obligation. Just go every week for an hour and your family will leave you alone. This tactic, for the most part, worked. Your traditional family had their rough moments, specifically when they mocked the outfits you'd wanted to wear to service and called you some... unsavory names. But if you could avoid any similar incident, any clash with authority, you were taking the holy road.

On the outside, you were the purest of people. There was never a bad or dirty thought in your mind. You were a pillar of the community, someone that parents pointed out to their kids. "Be like them," they'd say. Your parents were proud, so you should've been proud. Should've.

You and Ellie had grown up quite close due to being in similar social groups and seeing each other every week at service. Since then, you'd grown apart as you took different paths in life, though you still felt a sense of commitment toward her; So when she cursed out her father in front of the clergy, your eyes widened.

"You fucking dick! You don't know shit about anything! You use all this- this... bullshit- as a crutch so you don't have to own up to your own baggage!"

As she stormed out, you silently move from your spot in the choir, doe eyes shining in the bath of stained glass light, and shuffle up to the front of the room.

"Father, if I may, I would like to go check on your daughter." You're a model fixture, a saint.

"Of course, my child. I hope someday she'll be more like you. I pray that-" You shuffle off again, not wanting to hear about how he wishes his daughter was different. He really wishes his child hid who she was, you think bitterly. You admired Ellie's rebellion, though you'd never say it, and you wished you were as strong as her.

You walk away from the church to the little park you and Ellie used to go to. Your memories flood with nostalgia for simpler times, and you smile to yourself, pleasantly strolling through the large trees and foliage and looking for the rough girl. You find her crouching against a tree, squatting with her head between her legs.

Is she crying?

"... Ellie? Are you alright?" You whisper, not wanting to startle her.

You notice Ellie tense up before quickly standing up and whipping around to face you, a hand behind her back. "Oh! It's... you. Hey. Aren't you s'posed to be inside?"

"Yeah, but I just wanted to check on you. That was intense in there."

"Mhm, I'm good. Just needed some, ah, fresh air. Y'know?" She sounds a little too jolly, weirdly chipper. It's suspicious.

"Uh-huh," you say, unconvinced. "Whatcha got there?" You point to whatever she's trying to conceal.

She knows she's been caught. Her attitude suddenly shifts from faux-innocence to her usual snarky persona as she rolls her eyes, leaning against the tree and revealing what she had. She brings her hand up to her lips. "Nothing."

"Ellie!" You shriek. "You can't do that! Where'd you even get a cigarette?"

She laughs as if you'd said the funniest thing imaginable. "You think this is a cigarette? Are you stupid? No offense. But are you stupid?"

You scoff. "No! I mean, you're smoking it. What else am I supposed to guess?"

"A blunt, idiot. Kush. Mary Jane. Weed. Ma-ri-jua-na." She spells out for you like you're a toddler.

You cross your arms defensively. "Okay, I know what weed is, smart guy. You still shouldn't have it. Where's it from?"

"Stole it. I just wanted to see why people liked it so much. They say it relieves stress, and I think yes." Ellie grins lazily, eyes lidded. "I got another. You want?"

The answer to your question only makes you freak out more. "No! And you stole?! You stole? Oh my goodness, Ellie, you're gonna get us thrown in jail or something!"

Ellie wordlessly watches your breakdown, eyes red and amused, the corner of her mouth turned up. "Relax, man, it's barely illegal. Who's calling the cops for a single gram? Don't be lame like that."

"Lame?" You scoff. "Are you a first grader? Ellie, it's against the law, you could go to prison. And it's not juvie anymore, you're gonna go to real jail!" Your hands flail around wildly as you explain the repercussions of her actions.

"Jail..." She rolls her eyes.

"Yes, jail! That's kinda what happens when you steal something, Ellie!" The high-pitched, prissy tone with which you said her name was starting to annoy her, but the way you looked when flustered was intriguing. Maybe in another context, she'd enjoy hearing her name fall from your lips.

Ellie takes another hit, looking up at you. She tilts her head, asking if you're being serious. "Jail? Over a single blunt? Who cares that much?"

You gasp when you realize: "I'm an accomplice!"

"You're not an accessory just because you're here." She chuckles as the wind blows past and carries her smoke near your head as you duck dramatically and swat away the smoke. She looks at you for a moment, slightly smiling. Her green eyes meet yours briefly before turning her attention back to the joint.

"Why are you using it anyway? It smells rancid."

"Already told you. I wanna know why people do it. It relieves stress and I'm plenty stressed. Plus, I look dope as shit with it, right?" Ellie leans against the tree, and a small part of you wants to say yeah, you do. "You should try it. Maybe get that stick out of your ass."

"You're gonna get addicted."

"God, it's just this once. What are you gonna do, tell my dad?" She chuckles to herself, taking a long drag.

She checks you out, head to toe, examining the flowy fabrics and neat hair and the Mary Jane shoes that drive her crazy. Who wears those? Her gaze returns to meet yours, and she looks utterly dumbfounded by you. Your eyebrows furrow as you see how her expression changes. "What's that look for?"

She shrugs nonchalantly. "I dunno. You're just so robotic. It's like you never think about stepping the teensiest bit out of line. It's creepy. You've never had an independent thought in your life. Have you ever done anything even remotely rebellious?"

You make a noise that seems to say Well why would I? "No! Of course not! And you shouldn't either, I mean look at your dad, he's-"

Her voice raises, a tone you've never heard and don't care to hear again. "-My father? You mean the preacher?" She mocks. "What about him? You don't know anything about my father." Ellie's look hardens, eyes steely and mouth pursed into a thin line. It's a look you've seen maybe twice before, both in much more tense situations. Her voice says that you can't change her mind. You don't care to try. Whatever she's referencing, you believe her.

"Okay. Okay... sorry." You say gently, losing the defensive energy you'd held a moment ago. Ellie sighs and takes an irritated puff. To relax, you think.

"And you always apologize. It's so weird. You need to loosen up a bit." Another long, somehow sarcastic hit. "What's the worst thing you've *ever* done?"

An embarrassing, very private thought crosses your mind. You obviously can't tell her what you think about at night- you're barely able to admit to yourself that you have such impure thoughts. Instead, you shake your head. "Can't- I can't think of anything."

You watch her forest green eyes roll up, then down. It's a very familiar expression on her. "Thought so." She grins up at you, and you look away into the treeline nervously. "Do you wanna try something fun?"

"Is it... illegal?"

"No. Don't worry about that." She motions for you to come closer, so you take a tentative step forward, eyeing her like a wild animal. She hates the way you look at her, making her feel alien. Just because she lives authentically. It makes her want to ruin you, to have you stoop down to her level. Then maybe you won't look at her as if she were extraterrestrial.

You need an attitude adjustment, you need to chill the fuck out, you needed to get fucked, and hard. Ellie thinks she can help you with that.

She grins that toothy smirk as she watches you step closer, taking a puff and placing the blunt between her slender fingers. She doesn't miss the way your eyes trail the two long fingers that hold it. You wonder if she's doing this on purpose.

Ellie backs you up against a tree, and you recognize is as the same old oak that you would climb with her as kids. The branches and bark have left scars on you that Ellie helped you heal. She wonders how they look now.

Your back hits the trunk with an unceremonious thump, and you startle. Ellie keeps walking toward you, now getting uncomfortably close. "Uh- so what are we..." You trail off, thinking she'll explain what she's doing right in your face. She doesn't.

Her arm raises, trapping you between the tree and her body as she studies you. It makes you want to crawl out of your skin, but feels incredibly electric at the same time- it's a sensation you've only felt around her, though you don't know why. She takes another hit and you nervously look away.

She tilts your jaw back to look at her. You have to face her pretty green eyes, unwavering as she stares you down, while you sneak glances just to check if she's still there. Your breath speeds up when she leans closer.

Ellie puts her stupid pink slightly chapped adorable smiling lips near the base of your neck.

"What are you doing?" You say breathlessly. You swear that you feel her ghosting over your skin, so close, yet not as close as you want her. Maybe if you lean in...

Before you can, she breathes out her smoke, lightly trailing her lips down your neck. Her tongue comes out to prod at the skin, tasting you. You whine. The smoke envelops the two of you, and your nose crinkles at the foul smell. You look down to chastise her but she's already looking at you with those eyes and that cheeky look. No matter what you say next to defend yourself, you know you're caught, that Ellie knows she's affected you. It's in your eyes, the way you've seized up so tightly, how you look at her like you can't wait to see what she does next.

She presses a chaste kiss on your collarbone and you crane your neck upward. You're not sure if you're trying to get away or if you're giving her more access. She pulls away and you find yourself leaning forward to try to get her back on you.

"Is that the most rebellious thing you've ever done?" She chuckles, taking another drag and blowing it over you, bathing you in the white haze. "You like being treated like that, huh?"

You shiver. "I don't get it," you say dumbly. You've never been this confused.

"What don't you get? I just think it's fun to make you squirm." She thinks you've had enough and blows her next exhale away from you. "I wanna corrupt you, sweetheart." It sounds derogatory coming from her but you find that you don't mind the tone. The spot Ellie had made contact with feels as if it's burning. You crave for that feeling all over your body.

You stammer over your words, pathetically unable to spit out any sort of coherent reaction to her. Any reaction would be better to tripping over your words. Fed up with trying to sound like a person, you decide to stop talking.

"You enjoyed that huh? Admit it." She inhales and repeats her action. "Makes you feel hot inside."

"What? No- no, are you insane?" The sane part of you is telling you that you shouldn't be doing this, especially not with Ellie fucking Williams of all people. She's everything you aren't- she's rude and snarky and devilish... and tall and strong and hot. Oh shit! The batshit insane part of you is slowly melting the angel on your shoulder, and you can basically see the little devil cackling as you feel yourself straying further from the good girl persona you'd cultivated. You feel your heartbeat in your pants.

Ellie begins to kiss down your neck, sucking and licking at your jaw and collarbone. This time, you're acutely aware that you're actively giving her access to do as she pleases with you. "Maybe I'm insane, but I can tell. You did like it. And if you deny, I'll do it again until you tell the truth."

"Well I didn't, so you can forget about-"

She places her thumb on your lower lip as you start your tirade, effectively shutting you up. "Too late." Ellie leans in and before you know it, her lips are on yours. Her arm snakes around the back of your waist and pulls you as close to her as you've ever been. That warm feeling flushes down your body, leaving chills across your skin. More. All you can think is that you want more. Your hands come up to grip her shoulders, you almost want to push her away, but you find yourself pulling her closer and closer. No room for the Holy Spirit.

Ellie pulls away, smugly looking down at you. "Told you you liked it."

"I didn't say that." You were being a contrarian on purpose at this point. Anything to keep Ellie treating you like this- you wanted to prolong this moment for however long you could. She hoists you up, bringing you out of the park and into the back of the parking lot. She throws you into the backseat of her beaten pickup and crawls atop you with darkened eyes.

You squeal in surprise. "El-lie!"

She continues to kiss you, making you wetter by the second. The heat pooling in your panties is so fucking embarrassing, but you find that you don't care how humiliating this is. You just want more.

"Els, what if someone sees?"

She scoffs as if the idea is preposterous; as if the prospect of getting caught is impossible. "Nobody can see us, and they won't leave until later. Don't stress about it." Ellie bites her lip and it makes your body get hot flushes. "I can do whatever I want to you. But you know what? I think you'd let me. Is that right?"

"...Maybe." Read: Yes, yes, anything! She leans down, placing her hand on the back of your neck and pulling your head closer up towards her. Her hand forces your legs apart further to allow her access. The way she lays on your inner thighs, atop your clothed core, makes you feel lightheaded. You love the way she manhandles you, and it's exactly how you thought she'd be. Every time she adjusts her position, your clit rubs against her and sends jolts of electricity up your body.

"I knew it. You're not as perfect as you try to be. You're dirty."

You want to deny it, you really do, but the evidence is clear. You're disheveled under her, lips swollen from hers, and she's pulling your panties to your ankles and shoving them in her jacket pocket, yet you're ashamed to say that you don't feel an ounce of guilt over it.

Despite how excited you are for whatever is about to happen, you're still incredibly nervous. This is the most physically vulnerable you've ever been with another person, and the fact that you're completely bare under your skirt makes your stomach flip.

Your face must betray your emotions because Ellie momentarily softens. She pulls her hands away from your hips and cups your face, peppering kisses across your cheeks and up to your forehead, making you laugh lightly. "You alright? We can stop."

"No... please don't." Her face lights up.

"Sorry, say that again?" You roll your eyes and she chuckles. "I knew you were like this. Not so pure now, huh?"

"Guess not."

"So you admit it?"

"...Fine. Yes."

Ellie sighs in relief as if her thirst were quenched- that's what she's been wanting to hear from you forever. She could see it in the way you snuck glances at her during mass, finding your wandering, hungry eyes from across the room. She could feel it in the way your hand lingered on her a little too long to be friendly, your touch suspiciously light, like if you touched her any harder you'd start to tremor.

But now, there's no semblance of the timid person you'd been. When Ellie pulls away, your hand comes up to the back of her neck to pull her back in. You're insatiable, and Ellie fucking loves it. She tugs at the bottom of your sweater. "Pull that fucking thing off. Show me those pretty tits." Her breath becomes heavy as you oblige and become needier. "Did you know you were this easy?" She teases.

"What? I'm- I'm not." Everything she says feels designed to evoke the biggest reaction from you. She keeps you on your toes, never letting you get too comfortable. How exciting.

"So it's just for me then?" You don't answer, and it excites Ellie to know that she's right. This reaction is purely for her. Nobody else has seen you like this, and she's grateful to be the one who gets to corrupt you. It really didn't take much effort. "You're so easy to control."

Her hands drift back to your thighs, sliding under your skirt, her lips press to your jawline. Hot breath trails along your neck, down further to your collarbone. Her fingers slide over your inner thighs, sensitive skin rippling as she applies light pressure, testing how reactive you are. You twitch, unwittingly opening your legs more and giving Ellie more access. "You look good like this, though."

Ellie's fingers dig into you, grasping the flesh of your ass and moaning softly into your ear. Her thumbs are on either side of where you desperately need her, and your hips buck up into her, seeking her touch. "Knew you had a nice ass, too."

"Shut up." You mumble.

"Why would I? You like it when I say things like that, don't you? You wouldn't be this drenched if you didn't." She swipes the pad of her thumb over your clit and applies delicious pressure. You nearly cum on the spot.

Is this what you've been missing? This pleasure, this euphoria? Ellie grins at your reaction, drinking in your desperation for her like a succubus. "Aw, sensitive little pussy. Haven't you touched yourself like this before?"

You had, a few times, actually, but it never went this far, deep-rooted guilt gnashing in your stomach and ending the moment before you'd been able to finish. After admitting this, she coos at you. "Poor baby." Her tone is so condescending, but it makes you clench around the tip of her fingers.

She slides the first knuckle of two fingers past your entrance, pumping them in and out painfully slowly. "Ellie, you prick. Come on." She continues her ministrations, gently stroking your entrance, never giving you enough to feel remotely satisfied. She uses this time to take in your disheveled, sweaty appearance. Your cute tits bounce as you shift uncomfortably, waiting for Ellie to please you. A bead of sweat rolls down and she can't help but bring her mouth up to lick at it as it slides over your nipple. Her mouth attaches to you and you sigh, holding her closer by her hair. She grins up at you, making eye contact through her lashes. You can see the tip of her tongue poking out, wetting your bud as the cool air nips at you, making you all the more sensitive. Even now, Ellie still hasn't stopped her teasing below.

"Can't call me a prick then beg for me to fuck you. 's not how it works, pretty girl."

"Then what do you want?" You whine.

Ellie can feel your clit flutter and pulse as she moves. "Fuck, you're so desperate for me, aren't you? I want you to tell me how bad y' want me."

"I- I d-" You begin to protest, being cut off with a squeal as Ellie licks a sloppy stripe up your pussy, finally tasting you.

"Don't bullshit me. If I'm gonna fuck you, I needja to be a little more honest with me. I see how you look at me. You been trying to push some thoughts down, huh?"

It was so humiliating how well she could read you. Whenever her tongue came out of her mouth to take communion, your eyes would be trained on the muscle, breath hitching as she would wink at you. Without fail, you would trail your gaze up her body when Ellie walked in with a suit, her way of dressing nicely for service. Always, always, she could feel the heat radiating off your body as she pulled you closer, not taking her eyes off the pastor speaking.

Your thoughts were impure, sinful, and how embarrassing that Ellie knew. You believed you were hiding it well- obviously not.

"Yeah. Maybe."

Ellie's big hands wrap around your thighs, fingers landing on the sensitive skin near your pussy. She looks up at you and you can feel her hot breath on your clit. It takes everything in Ellie to not eat you out immediately, but your embarrassment is too tempting to pass up.

"Tell me about it. You try to fuck yourself thinkin' of me?"

"I do. I- I tried to, at least. Doesn't work."

"Why not, babe? You're so responsive right now." Her fingers find their place back at your entrance, pushing in as you speak.

"I- oh, shit-" You gasp.

Ellie grins. "Talk to me."

"My fingers aren't good enough."

"Ah," she says, "and mine are?" She knows the answer.

"So good."

Ellie likes that she's made you desperate enough that you've abandoned your pride. She enjoys the flush on your face as you shamelessly admit your secrets to her, the good-girl persona a figment of the past.

She's so busy staring up at how your face contorts in pleasure that she doesn't realize that she hasn't moved her fingers in a hot minute. The teasing is torturous for you.

"Ellie," she hears you whine, "Please!" You rut your hips against her fingers and she feels lightheaded. Jesus fucking Christ.

"Sorry, pretty girl. Got distracted." She smirks. "I'll give you what you want now." Ellie finally moves her fingers, curling them in and out slowly. You groan again and she laughs. "Okay, okay! Sorry." Her face darkens and she bites her lip. "You want me to fuck you? Alright, I'll fuck you."

Ellie's fingers begin to pump inside you, hitting all the spots that make you jump and squirm, and you're sure the rusted heap of a car you're in is about to fall off its chassis. She's going so fast and hard that you're immediately overwhelmed and you don't know where to put your hands. In the span of a minute, they cup your face, a forearm slings over your eyes, and you throw your arms up against the window. Finally, you settle on cupping your cheeks, fingers slit open so you can peer down at Ellie's focus on you.

Her eyes haven't left your pussy since she started. She's absolutely mesmerized by how fucking wet you are, how you seem to suck her fingers back in as she tries to pull out and your body betrays how desperately you want her. Ellie's mouth is slightly agape and she can't help when her tongue flickers out to lick curiously at your clit, wanting to taste you again.

"Fu- fuck!" You yelp, bucking your hips up into her face. Ellie snorts as she watches how you squirm. You can feel something building and though you have an idea of what it is, it's building fast and slightly scaring you. "Wait, Els, hold on a second, something- ah- I think- I think I'm-"

You're nervous about how it creeps up on you so suddenly but you find there isn't time to be self-conscious about it because you cum, and you wonder why God could possibly think that doing this is a sin. How could it be a sin if it felt so right?

You don't know what sound you made or how your face looks, but by the way Ellie looks up at you, it must've been something. Her eyes flicker back down to how your clit pulses as you finish, leaking cum onto her fingers and trailing down her hand. You know what she's fucking thinking because you always do. Before you can form a sentence, she's licking up your cum like it's the best meal she's tasted.

You shudder violently. "Ellie, holy fuck, stop, I'm still sensitive! Oh m- Ellie, come on!" Only when you push her face up does she stop, giving you the cheekiest grin.

You roll your eyes and throw your head back against the car door, panting. The dull ache in your thighs is apparent when you attempt to sit, pulling your panties up and cringing at how your cum pools on them.

Ellie still hasn't said anything. You glance over at her, wondering how she feels about whatever just happened. She's looking down, grey hoodie still pulled up to her elbows, staring at the fingers she'd just fucked you with. She glances up at you, a shit-eating grin spreading across her face. 

“That was hot.” Her hand rubs up and down your thigh, a kind of comfort you’d never received from her. It wasn’t unwelcome.

You don’t quite know how to feel. There are twinges of guilt gnawing at your stomach, that religious guilt creeping in. Had you done something wrong? 

But at the same time, there was a warmth in Ellie’s gaze that made you feel like maybe, it was all worth it. Was it unholy? Almost definitely. But this awakening couldn’t be all bad if she kept looking at you with those soft, fond eyes.

my masterlist...

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader smut #tlou2 x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut #fem reader #moncherellie writing #ellie williams oneshot #tw religion #tw religious trauma #tw #ellie williams

[the-aisei-cousins]

Event: Camping Trip

(Tw: mention and talks of Pedophilia, R@pe, child abuse, and cannibalism.(also sorry that I forgot to add this. I thought I did when I wrote this.))

You had received an email from Hope's Peak Academy

'You were invited to help Ms. Dai to take Class 82 onto a 2 week long camping trip starting tomorrow! Class 82 will be thankful for your participation.

We are not responsible for any minor damage, major injuries, any human beings being eaten, and/or deaths that Class 82 may cause.'

You decided to join. Probably your better judgment but to join, you chose none the less. The next day, you went to Hope's Peak Academy to see a group of 7 teens and one little robot girl. All had on a white shirt with brown shorts on.

One was a dark skinned girl with two IDs. One was a Substitute Teacher ID and the other a Student ID for the same school. She was in front and facing the rest of the students.

There was a boy with black hair and brown eyes. He had a bunch of scars on his body, some old, some new, some healed, some still fresh.

The robot girl was to his left. She seems to be design to look around 8 years old, but she seems to be an old model. The body was rusty in some areas and wore down by time.

To her left was a boy with an red jacket on. He had the hood over his head and sunglasses covering his face. His hands were in his pocket.

To his left was a young lady with long light reddish pink hair, dilated pupils, and a slightly jagged tooth. She was the tallest in her class.

To her left was Irofuka Nijiue. It was weird to see him not in a butler uniform. He was stilling wearing his red gloves and his hair was pulled into a short, low ponytail.

To his left was Yolei, wearing a light turtleneck sweater underneath the shirt. The also had leggings and a bag on. She was leaning towards Irofuka.

And finally, Yoshino, who had her hair in a ponytail and was wearing stockings under her shorts. She also had a small backpack on.

Yù: "Okay, let's go over the rules, one more time. No killing people, selling illegal substances or items, and no eating people. Alive or Dead. We will still be doing theapry sessions while camping. Don't wonder to far, especially at night. We have to introduce ourselves to our guests, even if we already met them. That means, telling them your actual names and Ultimate Talents, alright?"

"Yes Ma'am."

Yù: "Thank you Yoshino."

Do you say anything?

Tags:

@y0u-f4il3d-m3 @mikado-sannoji @low-activity-side-characters @yui-samidare-reborn @human-monokuma @kamon-of-hope @edens-garden-au @master-detective-archives @beautiful-despair @after-neo-world @scarred-smiles @i-spy-with-my-lethal-eye @sinistersmiles @xxcottoncandybitchxx @anyone else

#bloodthirsty maid: yolei aisei #buttons and threads: yoshino aisei #Event: Camping Trip⛺

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 6

part 1 | part 5

October

It's Wednesday night, which means dinner at the Hendersons. Steve finally decided to show his face — and no, not because Dustin's doorstep song and dance had any effect on him; it was partly because he was sick of hearing muted metal music from across the street and mostly because he hadn't left the trailer in three days and he was starting to feel and smell like shit.

So, anyway. Dinner. Ma Henderson's pulled out all the stops: prepped a homemade lasagna, stocked the fridge with full-sugar sodas and bought the good brand of key lime pie; invited the Sinclair and Wheeler kids to make a little party of it. (Nancy was 'unfortunately too busy to attend,' thank fucking god.)

But then Ma got stuck late at work, so now it's all hands on deck. Mike and Erica are setting the table — Steve can hear Mike bitching at her because she told him the knives go the other way, dumbass; Lucas is at the fridge filling cups with ice and Pepsi and muttering to himself about how much better Coke is; Steve's got an eye on the oven, waiting for the cheese on the lasagna to bubble up juuust right; and Dustin is using "prepping the salad" as an excuse to corner Steve and annoy the ever-loving crap out of him.

“What do you mean it’s hard?” Dustin whines, dropping a handful of shredded carrots into the wooden bowl. “Just talk to him!”

Steve takes a deep breath. Mourns, briefly, for the night he could have had; the girls he could be doing hand stuff with in the back of the Beemer instead of putting up with this kid's shit. “I don’t wanna Just Talk to Him." He bends to peek through the oven door. "And, also: get off my ass about it, alright? I came to dinner, I'm heating up the lasagna. I'm, like, participating or whatever. What more do you want?”

“For you to talk to Eddie! Obviously!" Dustin's tossing the greens so aggressively that it kinda feels like he wishes he was pummeling Steve instead, and when he throws his hands up, little flecks of iceberg lettuce go raining to the floor.

Steve eyes the leafy green confetti. "You're cleaning that up."

"Come on, dude," Dustin begs. "It's been two weeks! What's the point of having friends who are next door neighbors if they refuse to get along?”

Behind them, Lucas supplies in a weirdly strangled tone: “This really doesn’t seem like the way to get him to talk to Eddie."

Thank you. Steve couldn't agree more. He turns to tell him as much and realizes the reason Lucas' voice sounded like that is because he's trying to make one trip to the dining room at any fucking cost. He's got an armful of drinking glasses and three cans of Pepsi tucked under his chin, and he's about to fumble the whole wobbly stack.

"Jesus Christ, man, cut that out!" Steve swoops in to grab the cans before they can join the lettuce shower Dustin just made. He doesn't care how much he loves Claudia, he will leave without helping if they splatter soda all over this floor. Mews the Second can lick it clean for all he cares, he's so for real. "Two at a time," he says sternly, taking the extra cups from Lucas’ hold and handing him back a reasonable amoint. He sends Lucas out of the room with a knee to the ass.

"Hey!" Lucas pouts.

"Hey yourself," he grins.

Lucas sticks out his tongue like a child (because he is one, Steve reminds himself), and when he shoulders the swinging door to the dining room he almost brains his little sister, who makes a graceful side-step and comes strutting through undeterred.

"Are you two nerds done playing good cop, annoying cop with Steve?"

"Ah-!" Dustin gawps. "I better not be the annoying cop!"

"Uh, yeah. Obviously, you are." She props a fist on her hip, a little tyrant in the making, and Steve’s ribs go tender with a fond, vaguely proud ache. He really loves her so much. "Now scram. I need to borrow Steve."

On second thought.

Surely at some point these kids, like, owe him money or some shit for the amount of weary sighs they've caused him to let out. Like, financial compensation for the years taken off his life? Something?

"Yes, Erica?" he asks, nostrils flared; eyes closed.

"You should talk to Eddie."

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ." Steve looks up to the ceiling, pleading for anyone to grant him strength, then he turns to pull the lasagna out of the oven and watches the bubbles sizzle and pop in the hot cheese until he no longer feels like blowing up at a little girl. "Okay. Okay. And I should listen to you because…?"

Screw financial compensation.

He deserves a presidential medal for how calm he's keeping his tone.

Erica's glaring fiercely at him when he glances her way, and why is every kid he knows such a brave, confrontational little shit? "Because," she explains, "He's being mean to my brother."

Oh, fuck no. "What do you mean?" he asks, voice dropping to an urgent hiss as he feels his hackles raise. Like hell is he letting some Billy 2.0 hang around his kids. "Is he, like- Is he saying shit about you guys?"

She spares him from trying to find a tactful way to ask what he's really asking. "No," she says shortly. "But he is being a bastard about him joining the basketball team—"

"Language—" Oh, what's the point.

"—and those two nerds out there? Are obsessed with him. Especially Mike. Like, ob-sessed.” She writes the letters out in the air in front of her to really drive home the point. “Mike likes whatever Eddie likes, so you need to convince Eddie to like Lucas before Lucas loses his friends over this stupid 'jocks versus freaks' crap." She lowers her voice and jabs the skywriting finger into his shoulder hard enough to bruise. "And if you tell Lucas I said any of this? It is on. sight, Steve. I will crush you."

"Jesus Christ."

"So, we good?"

"Uh huh," Steve stammers. "Y-yep. Understood."

Wow. So dignified, Steve. Really loved how you let a ten year old intimidate you. He's saved from any further bullying by the sound of keys jangling in the lock.

"Dusty!" Claudia calls out through the door, "Dustybunny, can you come help? My hands are full!"

In the dining room Steve hears Dustin groan while Mike and Lucas start immediately tearing into him for the name, mocking 'Dustybunny; oh, Dustybun!' in stupid sing-song tones.

"So I'm just gonna..." Steve says awkwardly, inching toward the door. "Go get that."

"Mhmm." Erica gives him an unimpressed look. "You do that."

—

"Oh, Steve, sweetie, thank you!" Claudia says when he opens the door, cheerful and sweet as always. He goes to take her bags from her, but she drops them all at her feet and steps forward to give him a hug, a firm and tender thing that makes an annoying lump form in his throat.

"How are you?" she asks, stepping back to look at him; eyes raking over his face, hands on his cheeks. Really looks. She frowns at whatever she sees. "How's your mom?"

"Can you please just talk to me?" Steve begs, shivering in the hallway because they haven't budgeted for turning on the heat just yet. Wasn't supposed to get this cold for another pay cycle. He tugs the ends of his sweatshirt sleeves. His limbs feel stiff and tense, a budding anxiety like there’s a bomb in the base of his spine.

"Steven, darling, not now," his mother sighs as she sinks demurely onto the couch. "Then when!" he explodes. He doesn't want to yell at her, but, "Seriously, when? When are we going to say anything to each other that actually fucking matters, mom? I feel like I barely even know you anymore!"

"Yes, and I feel a migraine coming on; are you quite finished?"

"….She's fine," Steve answers.

Could be true, for all he knows.

The wrinkles between Claudia's brows deepen, like she wants to press the subject but decides to hold her tongue. "That's good to hear," she settles on after a moment, giving him a gentle pat on the cheek before stepping away with a subtle look that’s not mad, just disappointed.

Steve kind of wants to cry.

"Mom! Food!" Dustin hollers from the other room.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I swear I try to teach him manners."

"Well, good luck with that," she grins, the shadow of tension between them dissipating. Her mood is good like that. Resilient. Strong. Immune to outside force.

Steve’s moods, on the other hand, are more like those stainless steel fridges that promise to remain spotless but then end up covered in grubby handprints. (Exhibit A: he’s doing it right now.)

Thankfully Claudia’s got enough sunshine in her for the both of them. “Come on,” she says, extending a hand and wiggling her fingers for him to grab hold. “Let's eat."

—

part 7

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #dustin henderson #claudia henderson #erica sinclair #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler

[bluebeary-jay]

If I could hold you for a minute

Javier Peña x f!Reader

Summary: Javier wants nothing more than to go home to you. And thanks to his partner's generosity, he gets to.

Tags: just pure FLUFF, mayyybe a sprinkle of suggestive humor, established relationship, Steve teases Javi a bunch, Javier is a BIG SIMP (i'm serious)

Warnings: none ♡

Word count: 3.3K

A/N: something different for you guys 🙈 i'm sadly still on semi-hiatus because of my finals, but I managed to finish this little fic as a break from my angsty Joel pieces. i reaaaally hope you all will like it 😌💕 also, it's dedicated to my dumbass in crime @lily-inbloom 🫡😘 luv you babes

This was one of the worst days agent Peña had in a long time, and he wanted nothing more than to go home.

First, two people from Escobar’s inner circle managed to escape the raid on the laboratory in which he and Murphy participated, leaving both of them exhausted and frustrated. Then Melissa gave Javier a bunch of shit because of some documents, and on the way to his desk some asshole bumped into him, making him drop and break his phone. And now they had to stay after hours to wait for Carrillo.

“It’s for you, Peña.”

So yeah. His day was shit so far.

His pity party was cut short when Steve sitting across from him hissed his name again. Javier shot him an irritated look and flipped him off, not in the mood to talk to any informants or their superiors.

“Not now, Murphy,” he grumbled, but his partner still handed him the stationary telephone from their desk, ignoring the hostility radiating from the man.

“Just take it, asshole. She’s worried you’re not answering her calls.”

At that, Javi sat up straight and in a split second took the handset from Steve, pressing it to his ear.

“¿Querida?” he asked quietly, paying no attention to Murphy rolling his eyes and chuckling to himself. There was a sigh of relief on the other end of the line and he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Hi, Javi,” your voice came through the receiver. “You weren’t picking up.”

Almost instantly the tension was lifted from Javier’s shoulders and he exhaled deeply. You had a talent of putting him at ease, even when you weren’t by his side.

“Lo siento, cariño. Some idiot broke my… you know what, it doesn’t matter. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just wanted to ask when you finish work? I can swing by and we can go grab some food on the way home.”

He sighed tiredly, rubbing his brows. He hated saying no to you and if he could, Javi would give you the world on a silver platter – but some things, he didn’t have any control over.

“No sé, cariño. We have a shitton of papers to read with Steve, and we’re waiting for Carrillo to fill us in on the latest action. I’ve got no idea how long it’s gonna take, sweetheart.”

Steve lifted his head and shot Javier a teasing look, but Peña ignored him, turning his chair to the side.

“Alright, so what do you say I’ll bring you some takeout? You can also ask Steve what he’d want, I’ll be at this place we went to a week ago–”

“No, querida, no,” he sighed, this time with affection. Your voice was a temptation enough to throw everything to hell and run home to you, but to hear the kindness and love in your words, without even seeing your expression… It was heart-clenching. “We don’t need anything, you just go back home safely. I’ll try to get away from here as soon as I can.”

You didn’t answer at first, but then hummed half-heartedly.

“If you say so. But please, eat something.”

Javi smiled absentmindedly, covering his eyes with his fingers. He imagined your concerned expression, the receiver nestled next to your ear, near the spot he so liked to nuzzle with his nose. “How do you know I haven’t already?”

He could hear a trace of a smirk in your voice.

“I know you, Peña.”

“Too well, I think.”

“You love it, though.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, maybe.” He heard you yawn and the smile disappeared from his face. “You’re tired.”

“No, I’m not. I’ll get to bed when you’re back.”

“I won’t be home for at least a couple more hours, sweetheart,” Javi told you softly. “You can go to sleep.”

“I’ll wait for you,” you repeated stubbornly.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know, cariño.” There was that sweet, teasing note in your tone, and a grin spread across Javier’s face again. “But that will just give you more reasons to come home quickly.”

“I’ll try,” he just offered in a whisper, resting his forehead on his fist. “Call Steve if anything happens, alright?”

“Okay, okay, I will.” Long since gone were the times you’d argue with him about that. You knew how terrified he was at the thought of losing you. “I love you, baby.”

“También te amo.”

He didn’t immediately hang up, waiting just in case you wanted to add something else. The line went dead, however, and with his lips pressed Javi put the phone back in the center of the desk.

“You have it bad, Peña.”

Of course. Javier should’ve known Steve will start to nag at him again.

He reached into his pocket for a cigarette and put it between his lips. He knew you’d complain about the smell on his hair and clothes when he got home, but he was already too stressed out and in a desperate need of a smoke.

“I’m not in the mood, Murphy,” he muttered, pulling out the lighter.

“I thought a conversation with your sweetheart would brighten up your day?”

Javier looked up and just as he suspected, Steve had that same stupid grin on his face, like every time the topic was brought up.

Ever since your and Javi’s relationship became more serious, Steve was taking every opportunity to tease his partner. If Javi was feeling generous, he could kind of understand where his friend is coming from – after all, he himself didn’t think he’d ever act like a dumb teenage boy in the presence of a woman. But something about you mesmerized him from the very beginning, and, miraculously, here you both were, in a steady and loving relationship Javier Peña was always afraid of hoping for.

But alas, it was not a day to be understanding. He glared at Steve when the fellow agent didn’t take a hint.

“Shut up.”

“I wouldn’t say no to a food delivery, you know,” Steve spoke up with a smirk under his mustache. “I’m quite hungry.”

“I’ll sooner hire Escobar to make you sandwiches than let her do it.”

“You wound me, Javi. And to think I was about to take care of Carrillo and let you go home early.”

Javier looked up in surprise at his friend’s knowing smile. Then he blinked, slowly and tiredly, wondering if he didn’t misheard.

“Really?” he asked suspiciously, to which Steve shrugged.

“Why not? I’m in no rush since Connie and Olivia are in Miami, and as funny as it is to watch you yearn and pine, your brooding gets annoying after a while.” Javi didn’t move from his place, so Steve nodded in the direction of the exit. “Just go home to her, Peña. Before I change my mind.”

The face of the agent broke into a smile before he could collect himself. He stood up so quickly that he bumped his hip against the desk, but it didn’t phase him one bit. With a quick shove across the desktop, he swept all the documents to the folder and took his gun from the drawer, tucking it into his jeans.

Murphy was watching him with a smirk.

“You owe me, Javi.”

“Sure,” his partner replied over his shoulder, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll get you a sandwich tomorrow.”

A quiet laugh followed him when Peña promptly ran out of their office.

*****

After the call with Javi you tried to find yourself an occupation, intending to stay up as long as you could. He was working like crazy lately, sometimes not even coming home for the night, so a chance to finally spend some time with him – even if it would only be for half an hour – was something you didn’t want to miss.

So you wandered around his apartment. You read a little, watched TV, tidied up the cutlery drawer, folded Javi’s shirts, and now you got onto washing the dishes left from your dinner two days ago.

You were humming quietly, that stupid song which seemed to play on every radio as of late, when you heard a small sound from the hall. You paused and turned off the tap, your heart pounding in your chest, and sure enough there was it again – but this time you clearly recognized it as a key turning in the lock.

Before you could think of what to do, the door opened and Javi came in, locking eyes with you immediately. You blinked slowly, rooted to the spot with your hands lifted, still covered in water and soapsuds.

“Javi?” you asked in surprise. “What are you doin–”

Without saying a word, Javier came up to you in two long strides and put his hands around your waist, dipping you back and kissing you deeply. You made a noise in your throat, moving your wet hands aside, but then sighed contentedly as his lips caressed yours.

“I missed you, cariño. So much,” Javier murmured, not moving further away from your lips than two millimeters apart. “Couldn’t wait to get home to you.”

“But what about– Steve, and…” you tried to ask during those brief moments when he gave you a second to take a breath, but was unable (and unwilling) to move away when he was holding you so tightly.

“They’ll be fine,” Javier murmured, moving his hands to your cheeks to cradle them tenderly. “Steve said he’ll handle it.”

He firmly pressed his lips to yours one more time, his eyebrows scrunched with affection. You didn’t ask anything else, instead wrapping your arms around his neck, still careful not to get his clothes wet. After almost a minute of tender kisses and whispered Spanish phrases, Javi rested his forehead against yours with a content sigh. His eyes were closed and he just hummed when you nudged his nose with yours.

“You weren’t supposed to be home for the next few hours,” you said quietly.

“It was a damn torture. I couldn’t wait, hermosa,” he murmured and exhaled heavily. “God, I needed this.”

A bright smile spread across your face at the thought of this man thinking about and longing to see you so much. He sounded so stressed out and tired over the phone, but now it was like all nerves left him for just a moment.

“Do you want me to make you something to eat?” you asked in a whisper, but Javi shook his head.

“No. Just stay here.”

“I have to rinse the dishwashing liquid off my hands, though. And you need to take a shower.”

“Are you saying I smell?”

“A little. But I mostly mean the cigarette smoke on your hair.”

Javi sighed, murmuring something under his breath. You gave him a peck on the lips. “Go on, cariño. I’ll get everything ready and then we can lay down.”

Javier grumbled, displeased, but didn’t argue any further. “You’ll have to make it up to me, sweetheart.”

“If you manage to keep your eyes open.” Your comment made him crack a smile and you mirrored it. “Go shower. And then come back to me.”

Javi sighed but obediently went towards the bathroom, putting down his aviators and the gun on the table on the way there. You watched him fondly, your heart still swelling with love at how relieved he looked to see you. He must’ve felt your attention on him, somehow, because he turned around in the doorway and sent you a smirk.

“If you like the view so much, you can hop into the shower with me,” he teased, and you hummed, pretending to consider it.

“I would, but then it wouldn’t be a ‘quick shower’.” He smiled knowingly, and you scrunched your nose at him. “Javi, the longer you stand here, the less time we’ll have for cuddles.”

“You raise a good point, hermosa.”

With one last look he disappeared in the bathroom and you shook your head at his antics. A few seconds later you heard the sound of rushing water, so you hurried to your shared bedroom to get everything ready.

You pulled down the blinds and flipped the pillows to the colder side, and then swiftly changed into one of Javier’s shirts you liked to sleep in. You also took his gun from the table, knowing he preferred to have it within reach when he was resting with you.

Earlier that day you started to clean the cupboards, so the room was pretty messy. You spent a couple of minutes putting the piles of clothes and various knick knacks in their places, trying to be as quick as possible. Then you heard the water in the bathroom stopping, and it only took Javi two more minutes before he emerged from the bathroom in nothing but his boxers.

His hair was wet and chest bare, and exhaustion was marking his handsome features, painting shadows over his face. Without a second of hesitation Javi went up to you and wrapped his arms around your middle. You wanted to say that you’ll be done in a moment, but didn’t get a chance – he hid his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling tiredly, and started dragging you backwards to the bed. You swat at him with laughter, but those strong arms of his just held onto you tighter.

“Cariño, I still have to finish–”

“Leave it. You don’t have to do anything.”

“Javi…”

“Come lay with me, mi sol.” He softly pressed his lips to the sensitive skin on your neck, making you shiver. You felt him smirking. “Come on. Please.”

You faltered at this word, so rarely used by him. He sighed into your shoulder and swayed you two gently from side to side.

Javi was right. Everything else could wait.

You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles gently, feeling him relax behind your back.

“Alright,” you murmured. “Come here, baby.”

He hummed and kissed your neck again, then your shoulder, sneaking his hands under your – technically his – shirt.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you look in my clothes?” he asked quietly.

“Every time I wear it.” You felt him take a breath, but you beat him to it. “And don’t say they’d look even better on the floor.”

Javi chuckled and hugged you tighter, still slowly moving backwards with you. “Not this time. Just wanna have you in my arms.”

“You mean in your bed?” You couldn’t help but tease him, and yelped when he bit your neck lightly.

“Don’t tempt me.”

When you two reached the bed, Javi stopped and slowly turned you around before sitting down. You took his face in your hands, staring down at him lovingly, while he gently ran his palms up and down your thighs. He did look tired, with the exhaustion and sadness swimming in his beautiful dark eyes. After a moment he exhaled shakily and leaned forward, resting his forehead on your stomach.

“Wanna lie down?” you whispered softly, and he nodded without a word. “Okay. Come here.”

You gently released yourself from his hold and laid down, immediately reaching for Javier and tugging him to lay on top of you.

The moment his head touched your chest, Javi exhaled heavily with relief, closing his eyes. You ran your fingers through his hair, brushing the wet strands aside.

“Do you need anything?” you asked quietly, but he just muttered 'no' with a light shake of his head.

“I’ve got everything I need right here, querida.”

You grinned warmly, though he couldn’t see it. “You’re quite a romantic, Javier Peña.”

He chuckled under his breath, lifting himself slightly to meet your adoring gaze. “I thought you already knew all about it.”

“Did I?” you asked playfully, to which he lifted his head.

“What more can I tell you?” he murmured, leaning over you and smirking when your breath hitched in your throat. His brown irises danced across your face, drinking your features in. “Do you wanna hear how all I think about while working are your lips and the sound of your laugh? How the time spent together isn’t nearly enough for me to fully revel in you? Or…”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you said sheepishly, making Javi grin victoriously. “You’re probably spending that time in the office not thinking about me but of ways to mess with me.”

“Tal vez, mi sol.” He pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth and moved lower, whispering into your skin. “But I do wish I could spend more time with you.”

“I know, cariño.” You brushed his hair to the back with your fingers, scratching his occiput. “But it’s not your fault.”

He hummed without conviction, still busy kissing every inch of your skin he could reach. One of his hands went to your waist, his thumb tracing small circles there, while the other climbed up to your hand, entwining your fingers together.

“Didn’t you want to get some rest?” you asked breathlessly, trying to keep your composure. Your face was hot, and Javi hummed smugly at the pitch of your voice. He lifted his head and brushed your cheek with his knuckles, his hand still holding yours.

“I wanted to spend time con mi hermoso sol.” He touched his forehead to yours lovingly, gazing deeply into your eyes. “I was serious when I said you’re all I need.”

“I think you need some sleep, too.”

Javi grumbled, seemingly giving in, and kissed you sleepily one last time. His eyes were already closing and his mustache scratched your skin lightly.

“No, querida. Just you.”

*****

The next morning, Steve came to work to the sight of Javier trapping you with his arms against his desk. He was leaving soft pecks on your lips every once in a while – so unlike the Peña Murphy had known before – murmuring something to you with a smile, causing you to giggle, too. You tried to slip out of his grasp, but Javier just pulled you closer. The pair was obviously lost in the moment because neither of them noticed Steve, until he threw a pile of files onto his desk.

“Morning, guys,” he said nonchalantly, eyeing your bashful beam and Javi’s crooked smile with a smirk. He noted that his partner looked way better than yesterday. “D’you get any sleep?”

“Actually, I did.” Javier gazed over at you and squeezed your hand with this look of a lovesick puppy that Steve mocked so often. “Don’t remember the last time I’ve slept so well.”

“Happy to hear it, because we have a lot to do today.” He sat down and began organizing the notes from Carrillo’s report yesterday, wanting to fill his partner in as soon as possible. He heard Peña sigh.

“Of course.” He glanced up to see the other man stand up and kiss you lovingly – once, twice – before you lightly shoved him back onto the armchair. Steve rolled his eyes when Javi brought your hand to his lips, leaving one last lingering kiss, and then finally letting go of you.

“I’m gonna be late because of you,” you accused him, but he only smirked.

“Lo siento, cariño. Have a good day.”

You said your goodbyes to Steve and turned back to the exit. Murphy shook his head and met his partner’s dark eyes, sparkling with adoration.

“You really have it bad, Peña.”

He didn’t receive any answer, so he just smiled to himself and got back to arranging his desk.

He didn’t get a second of peace, however, because suddenly a paper bag was dropped on the documents he was just filing. Two – a bit squashed – sandwiches were peeking out from the brown paper.

Steve lifted his head, ready to throw another teasing comment, but Javier’s eyes – still full of that raw love – were focused solely on your figure leaving their office.

*****

querida - dear/darling

lo siento, cariño - I’m sorry, darling/honey

no sé - I don’t know

también te amo - I love you, too

hermosa - beautiful

mi sol - my sun/sunshine

tal vez - maybe

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena x you #narcos #javier pena fluff #narcos fanfiction #he's probably a little ooc but i read and reread it so many times that idk what words are anymore #javier pena x y/n

[fishfission-dc]

Batfamily Powerpoint Night! (Part 4: Jason)

<<Part 3: Tim    |    Part 5: Cass >>

[Masterlist]

Jason: Alright everyone get your hopes way down

Tim: I’m truly terrified of whatever you made for this

Dick: Let’s just be happy he participated!

Dick: Okay yeah nevermind

Bruce: Jason. This is-

Jason: Let’s just be happy I participated

Steph: If I’m not your favorite I’m rioting

Tim: Yeah this is the only right answer

Duke: He really does put up with way too much

Dick: Like childhood Bruce

Bruce: Hn. (in reluctant agreement)

Cass: (signs) I love you too :)

Damian: Cassandra is undoubtedly a very skilled combatant.

Steph: A rare good opinion from Jason

Jason: This is why you’re higher on the hate list

Duke: I am literally so honored, I would like to thank the Academy- 

Barbara: He called you “Nightlight”

Tim: And said your suit is ugly

Duke: I don’t even care. I’m too low on the hate list to care.

Dick: He said you’re going to snap?

Duke: I mean I don’t disagree

Tim: I’M THE FOURTH BEST?

Jason: After some new information learned in the previous presentation, Timmy should probably be a lot higher on the list. 

Steph: Oh calm down Timbo you barely got “tolerable”

Tim: HE TRIED TO KILL ME AND HE STILL LIKES ME BETTER THAN THE REST OF YOU

Barbara: Fair.

Dick: For the record, Jason, we are dating and I am not a cop anymore

Barbara: I still did date a cop though Dick he’s not wrong

Jason: See this is why she’s lower on the hate list than you

Barbara: You’re just scared to cross me

Jason: ...that too.

Tim: AHAAHAH

Damian: THIS IS UNFAIR

Steph: HAHHHAHHA

Damian: I AM NOT DONE GROWING YET TODD

Jason: You’re still short

Dick: It’s okay Damian, Jason was even shorter when he was your age!

Dick: ...crap.

Jason: Thank you for proving my point.

Tim: At least you’re not a cop anymore

Bruce: You broke his nose, Jason

Jason: He deserved it 

Steph: ...wait a minute

Tim: (laughing, in realization) You mean... no

Steph: guys wait no-

Steph: NO WAY AM I YOUR LEAST FAVORITE

Jason: THE F*@#%&$ YOGURT HAD MY NAME ON IT 

Steph: YOU CANT CALL DIBS ITS FIRST COME FIRST SERVE

[squabbling continues]

Dick: I’m surprised Bruce didn’t score the number one spot

Bruce: Hn. (in understanding)

Tim: I thought it’d be me honestly

Barbara: Oh come on, he loves all of us. He wouldn��t have come if he didn’t.

Cass: (signing) Agreed. I can go next?

<<Part 3: Tim    |    Part 5: Cass >>

[Masterlist]

#the saga continues #batfamily powerpoint au #these are still so fun to make ngl #i am unsure about the dialogue all the time though #i've never written a fic or anything so i'm just spitballin #i firmly believe jason loves all the little guys even though the joker is still alive #dc make jason happy challenge (impossible) #i liked his characterization in Cheer #dc comics #batman #jason todd #dick grayson #dc robin #batfamily #batfam #tim drake #bruce wayne