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#could be read as platonic but i want to be safe :)
silverameco · 3 days
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First Kiss - @wolfstarmicrofic - 733 words
Sirius had always dreamed of romance. For his family, feelings were nothing more than an inconvenience. Marriage was a mean to an end. Forming alliances, producing heirs. Love was out of the question. He wasn't even sure they knew what love really was. Hell, he wasn't even sure he knew it himself. What he did know however was that the way they treated each other wasn't love.
So he spent his childhood dreaming of something else. Something more. Something worth risking everything over. The kind of love that made you willing to reach the moon just to give it to the person who stole your heart.
Of course, Sirius did know certain forms of love. The unconditional brotherly love for Regulus that he couldn't escape even when, at times, he had wanted to. The twisted love that tied him to his parents despite everything, the kind which made him feel like he didn't deserve anything more than the scraps of affection he wasn't even sure ever existed. The pure and joyful platonic love he felt for his friends, the way it flowed naturally between them. The safe and healing love that the Potters gave him without hesitation, welcoming him in their home.
But he wanted the romantic kind. The big, real love that the poets talked about. He wanted the passion, the butterflies, the blushing cheeks and the hitching breath. The kiss that said this. This is where I'm supposed to be. This is who I belong with. He wanted the electricity in his veins and the shivers on his skin. He wanted it all. Sirius was greedy and always wanted more than life offered him. He wanted to give his everything to someone and have someone's everything in return.
So, he tried. Oh, how he tried to find it. Desperately, almost. At seventeen years old, he was already known as the heartthrob of Hogwarts, having experienced his fair share of heated embraces in the arms of many girls, and some boys too. And yet, he never managed to find it. The everything he was looking for. The kiss that would shatter his world. Maybe he asked for too much. Maybe he dreamed too big.
He didn't even realize this love, too big for his brain to catch up on his heart, was already there. Right in front of his eyes. He didn't understand it until it happened.
They were hanging out in the deserted common room one night. Keeping each other company through their insomnia like they did sometimes. Remus was reading soflty to him while Sirius rested his head on his shoulder, dozing off on the sound of his voice.
When Remus stopped reading suddendly, Sirius raised his head to look at him, surprised. "Moony, why d'you stopped ?"
But he didn't respond, just fixed him with an intense stare and a slightly opened mouth. Sirius didn't know what it was exactly. Maybe the fireplace that made his eyes appear golden. Maybe the peace and quiet of the moment. Maybe the fact that they were so close they could count each other's eyelashes. He couldn't tell you who moved first. All he knew was that, one moment he was looking into Remus' eyes, and the next he closed his own to press their lips together.
That's when it happened. Everything he was so desperate to find, but better somehow. Remus' touch was both soft and demanding. Caring and passionnate. Chapped lips that felt and tasted like the sweetest thing. Their breaths mingled to form one and it was the only thing Sirius wanted to survive on from now on. A tentative swipe of tongue alight something in his guts that just needed a spark to burn.
Sirius thought it was the kind of first kiss that the poets sang about. A kiss that felt like lightning fell from the sky to strike him right there, in the arms of the boy who was here all this time and yet whom he had somehow missed. The boy he finally found when he never really lost him anyway.
A kiss that said
My Moon, I don't have to climb to the moon, you already gave it to me
and
Please, let me offer you all the fragile segments that weave my being in return
It was perfect. It was his everything. Everything he had dreamed of. Everything he wanted, and everything he already had.
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jordosprout · 2 days
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Hello! I have a fic idea where the reader has a sensory meltdown and even though the others try to help they don't really know what to do but then Tech comes in with all the know-how on how to approach/help.
Maybe it could be taking place during the race Tech did and the reader gets overwhelmed by the sound and the heat and anxiety and Tech comes in for the rescue after the race ends, or maybe on a mission and Hunter asks Tech to take you aside/back to the marauder and tells him that they have it handled.
I think it'd be cool if Tech silently brought out sensory items and waited patiently with you and then opens up about how he has the same issue but maybe he usually shuts down instead or has a meltdown alone. Sorry I had a few ideas I wanted to share, hope this ask isn't too overwhelming! <3
Alright, took me awhile but I finished your request! I ended up going with the race plot :) I apologize for the wait. I wanted to do my best to portray everything correctly.
Sprouting Within the Soul
Tech x GN!Reader SFW Comfort Fic (gender-neutral pronouns used, little physical description.) (Can be read as platonic)
Reader is a phytotoxin specialist and becomes a clone medic. Story takes place on Safa Toma where Tech comforts them during an autistic meltdown.
Warnings: Talk of overstimulation, stimming, meltdowns, and gentle praise.
Notes: Phytotoxin- plant poison. I'm still getting used to Tumblr so no fancy dividers yet :,) I am working on making some for personal use
WC: 3,955
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Setting up readers' story, skip if wanted!
__
You didn’t enjoy medicine as much as you did vegetation. But the two interests mixed into a love for phytotoxin, and you found yourself as a specialist clone medic 2 months before you fled with Omega; working alongside her during that time. You grew deeply attached to the special little clone; knowing nothing could separate you.
She told you everything she could about the Clone Force 99; from their names all the way to their genetic mutations. And during one of those one-sided conversations, she told you about the inhibitor chips. This is what sparked your questions about the clones true purpose.
Your interactions with the boys themselves were brief. However, that would suddenly change.
Omega told you that she felt that Kamino was in danger, and you believed her immediately. It didn’t matter what it was that made her feel that way. You trusted Omega, and the thought of not knowing if she was safe scared you. You accompanied her, and her brothers, off-world; not a second guess in your mind.
Leaving the life you came accustomed to was hard. Especially when you were being so abruptly transitioned to a chaotic one. But the others, especially her brother Tech, did their best to ease you into the new life.
__
With Hunter and Echo being off on their own mission, it was just you Wrecker, Omega, and Tech today. A day you'd absorb every calm second you were given.
You were sitting beside Tech at the bar, him looking into poisonous plants for you.
You noticed that when he found out about your love for the subject, he took it personally. He took every moment he could to talk to you about the various flora of the universe. It wasn't a rare occurrence for him to share something you already knew. But that never mattered or annoyed you. You were just happy someone took part in your interests. Sometimes, he would tell you something that you surprisingly knew nothing of. Others, he would mention something you knew plenty about and you’d talk to him about it for hours.
It felt good having someone to talk to (or at) that clearly enjoyed it.
Just as he would offer you his ear, you would offer him yours. Always listening and enjoying whatever facts he had on his current interests. His passion for the things he knew made them all the more interesting. His voice and excitement would never get old to you.
Even though you felt seen by Tech, you still had moments of worrying you said something wrong. He never gave you a reason to think that you may have offended him, but you couldn’t help the anxiety. So you would often overexplain your intentions. He allowed you to say what you felt you needed to in order clear your intentions, and would then follow up in calm reassurance. He was always a source of calm patient energy, something you never got enough of.
You were tracing circles with your finger on the countertop; cheek resting on its cool surface. Omega and Wrecker were playing Balaans. Hearing them laugh and get competitive with each other made you smile.
But your day was swiftly stolen by a green Trandoshen. Cid, of course, had a last-minute mission for the four of you. You huffed to yourself, you just got comfortable watching Omega and Wrecker’s Mantell-Mix bet!
“Hey I heard that! Don't get sassy with me Bacta Bunny. I have a mission for you and you're taking it!” 
You scowled at the nickname, your reaction being noticed only by Omega, who looked at you briefly before looking at Cid. You found the nickname demeaning- as if all you were was the occasional medic the batch needed.
“Hunter and Echo aren't back from the other mission yet.” Omega told Cid, confused as to why they would do something without them.
“I would not call transporting 50 cases of nerf nuggets a ‘mission’. Nor is it a proper use of our skill set,” Tech added to Omega’s statement.
You rested your head into the palm of your hand, leaning into it, “Tech isn't wrong Cid. You're wasting what ya’ got. There are better uses of our skill y’know.”
“Yeah, well, your skill set will come in real useful on this one. Especially you, Muscles. You're gonna be my security crew.”
Your head lifted at that, “Hey now security for what? What did you do that requires security?”
Tech nodded in agreement, “We will require a more detailed briefing than that.”
“No time. The shuttle's waiting.” Cid dodged, already at the door. You disliked how secretive Cid was. Why couldn't she just tell you what you needed to know?
Wrecker tossed Omega her little helmet, and of course, Omega gave you all her usual wishful thinking.
“Maybe it'll be fun.”
“Heh, works for me.”
“Wrecker, you're saying that as if you're difficult to convince,” you bantered teasingly, you loved the big guy but you weren't wrong. He was easy to convince. He just grinned and gave you a mix of a laugh and grunt before following Omega.
You sat for a moment, wishing you could easily adapt the same way Wrecker and Omega did. But you couldn't help but feel anxious with the sudden change to your schedule.
Tech sighed and you gave him a small pat on the shoulder before jumping off your barstool.
It shouldn't be all that bad, should it?
__
As soon as your shuttle landed, you were met with muffled crowds and people. 
‘Just a little noise. I can handle this’
“I am beginning to understand the need for added security in a place like this.” Tech mentioned to the group, taking in the nature of the people around him.
“Safa Toma can be a little rough around the edges if you don't know what you're doing. But lucky for us I know my way around. And if things get dicey, that's where you come in.”
You looked at the back of Omega’s head once Cid said that last sentence. You weren't particularly fond of how much danger she was constantly in. Yes, she's a clone like her brothers. And clones were indeed made to fight. But she's only a kid and is already dealing with so much. You placed your left hand on her right shoulder, and she gave you two pats in response. Something she always did to let you know she'd be fine.
But once you exited the building, and were blasted with Safa Toma’s boiling sun and restless crowds, you felt like you were the one who might not be fine. You took a deep breath to ground yourself, but the air dried out your nose making you more uncomfortable. 
‘This shouldn't be a long mission. It's just security.’
The cheering got louder as you became surrounded by people, constantly getting bumped into. The machines on what appeared to be a race track flashed by directly in front of you, any loose hair you had whipped in the direction they flew towards; tickling your skin.
You stayed behind Omega and held your hands together, rubbing the flesh between your left hand’s pointer and thumb to soothe yourself.
“Whoa!” Omega was leaning on the rail, trying to take in everything happening on the track.
“It's called Riot Racing.” Cid said, clearly only talking to Omega.
One of the racers began shooting at an opponent ahead of it, resulting in the victim crashing into one of the walls. 
“Wow! Did you see that?” Wrecker excitedly asked Omega. You glanced at Tech whose eyes were wide behind his goggles.
‘Well if Omega didn't Tech definitely did.’
“It appears anything goes out there.” 
The PA system announcer began narrating the scene in front of all of you. Declaring the steal of the lead, that was apparently carried out by Cid’s racer.
__
You blindly followed Cid and the others after TAY-0’s win, falling slightly behind. You fixated on your hands, attempting to tune out the obnoxious droid in front of you. Any other day his quips would pull a small laugh from you. But the sun felt like it was getting hotter, and the crowd seemed louder and fuller. You didn't understand how Omega was handling it so well, she didn't have the climate-controlled armor her brothers did. 
‘If Omega can handle it then why can't I?’
“Your ringer is a droid?” Tech queried Cid, getting what would barely count as a real answer from the droid instead. 
“Oh, I'm so sorry. You have a problem with droids, human? You think you can make the split-second calculation to win out there? You want to challenge TAY-0?” the droid asked, defensively getting up in Tech's face. And of course, Tech gave little to no physical reaction.
“I do not have enough information about this sport to determine that at this time.” 
“Then take a seat, spectacled spectator.”
Okay, you held in a snort with that one. That was really clever.
Wrecker on the other hand was quite upfront with his reaction, repeating TAY-0 and bumping Tech. 
__
You sat against a wall as repairs were made to the droid's speeder. You chose to ignore what was going on for the time being. You weren't needed at the moment, so you should take advantage of that. You closed your eyes and pressed into the wall, trying to grasp all the peace you were given.
Which wasn't much apparently.
A large man found his way into the pit, three smaller men behind him. You stood after he greeted Cid, his tone making you realize he was the reason she needed security. And when he approached Omega you quickly made your way behind her next to Wrecker; all of your hands making their way to your designated blasters. 
“Not gonna introduce me to your new crew?”
‘Why’s that matter to him?’
He gave a hearty laugh, “They're not gonna help you win.”
Cid stood up to Millegi, looking much shorter than she already did in front of him. 
“Oh, I know I'm gonna win.”
After a few seconds of intimidation from Millegi, he offered a bet. It was frustrating how quickly Cid agreed. Of course, she'd take any chance she could to make some credits.
You spaced out for a moment before Cid insisted on hurrying up with the minor repairs. She was going to be much pushier now that credits were on the line. 
__
You paced behind the others, feeling restless now being back at the track. You looked up only for a moment when Wrecker returned, then back to the ground. You could feel your patience for today running low. You were rather surprised to hear Tech say he didn't know who'd win. But you knew he'd figure it out eventually, he always does.
But when TAY-0 took damage, and Millegi’s racer won the round, you knew Millegi wouldn't be far.
So you rushed to help collect the pieces of TAY-0 from the track and held your guard for when he'd eventually show up. 
And he did, of course, with Cid not having any credits to give him.
“Wanna step in here? I didn't bring you three for the company.” 
And with your cue, you put on your helmet and hovered a hand over your blaster. Millegi's men were quick to point their own at you. Of course, Omega spoke up, “Wait how much does she owe?” 
“More than you got, kid.”
“Well,” she paused for a moment, “we're not done yet.”
“Omega…” you whispered, “Don't. Stand down.”
“That's right. Looks like you're done to me.” 
“One last race. If you win, we pay you double.” 
You groaned into your helmet and shared looks between Tech and Wrecker. This could either go really well or really bad.
“If we win, we get Cid.”
“You don't know what you're getting into, kid.”
You followed in suit with the boys, Tech speaking up first, “I'm inclined to agree with him, Omega.”
“Yeah, I'm inclined too. We don't know anything about racing” Wrecker added, not at all slick about the confession.
“Omega this can very easily end very badly.” You told her worriedly
“They're gonna hurt Cid if we do nothing.”
You breathed in deeply through your nose. Omega was not one to lose determination. And you all knew that. You crossed your arms and stood behind her. If this is what she really wants to do, then you'll just have to stand with her.
“So we have a deal?”
“We race tomorrow. And I keep Cid as collateral.”
As his men collected Cid, Millegi gave a warning, “For your sakes, you better be able to pay up.”
You looked down at Omega, “I suppose that went well?”
__
After Omega spent some time on the speeder, you offered to take her place to get a break. She nodded and jumped down from the table, you taking her place. 
“Do we really need to fix him right away? He isn't exactly pleasant company,” you joked slightly.
“Well, he is already partially operational. So it is a bit late now. Speaking of, with a few more adjustments, he may be capable of racing.”
TAY-0 was basically summoned by your conversation, “Uh, that is hilarious. I am more than capable. I am ready to– Where are my arms and legs!?” You laughed to yourself and looked up to finish the repairs that were left on the speeder. TAY-0 was entertaining, but he's also just… a lot.
Wrecker came into the pit and dropped off the rest of TAY-0's parts.
“No, that's not how you connect the servo. Let TAY-0 instruct you how to do this properly.”
You grinned at Tech’s response. What can you say? You enjoyed his sass.
__
Nightfall came, and Safa Toma was finally quieter and cooler. But you still felt uneasy. All day has been dealing with people and TAY-0, and now you have to sleep in the pit. You tossed in your sleeping bag, Wrecker and Omega already sleeping beside each other. You covered your eyes with your forearm, hoping the pressure would help you sleep. 
You lifted it though when you heard rustling beside you. 
“Hey Tech, finished working on TAY-0?”
“Yes, he is fully operational for tomorrow's race.”
You nodded and yawned before turning on your side. The ground was hard and the sleeping bag didn’t help as much as it should.
“Problem?” Tech asked, now behind you.
“Oh, no Tech I’m alright. Just been a long day and I didn’t realize how long we would be here for. But I’m alright.”
He shuffled, likely laying down himself. You knew he could sleep just about anywhere, and honestly, it’s a skill you were a bit jealous of.
“I understand. I am not a fan of sudden plans myself, let alone ones with little explanation. I may be used to dealing with them, but they are still difficult.”
You smiled to yourself. “I’m sure we won’t be here too long.”
“Hopefully not”
__
You wished Cid would have prepared you for where you would be in some way. It felt like you were being cooked underneath your gear and it was miserable. Even when you stayed behind in the pit, there was still all of the noise and the fact you were somewhere completely new with no way to get away.
Two days in a row of dry heat. Two days of screaming. Two days of an obnoxious amount of people and tense interactions. And it was getting to you. Normally it wouldn’t bother you, or at the very least if it did you’d be able to get away from everything. But not being able to escape made it feel like you were suffocating. And as Omega and Wrecker cheered along with the crowd, you slipped away to find quiet.
It proved to be a harder task than you thought it would be, that in itself made you feel worse. But after struggling to find a place to rest, you gave up and decided a place with no people would be enough. You couldn’t help tearing off your helmet and gear, slamming it to the ground as you took your frustrations out on it. You slumped against the first sturdy object you found. The shade was minimal, but it was there. At least you were alone.
After a few minutes, you faintly heard Tech’s name being chanted. And after 5 more standard minutes went by, your comlink beeped. You ignored it, only for it to beep again. And when it did, you tore it off and threw it as far as you could. You couldn’t stand the noise. Or any noise at this point of your mental state.
You covered your ears and held your eyes shut, blocking out as much as you could.
__
Tech was surprised when he exited his speeder and you weren’t with Wrecker or Omega. And when he asked about your whereabouts, they were surprised too, worrying him even more.
“They were behind me!” Worry and defensiveness laced Wrecker’s tone. They both knew that Safa Toma wasn’t a safe planet for someone to go off by themselves. And after Tech commed you twice with no response, he was definitely certain something wasn’t right.
“I will be back, I am going to track the com signal and check in.”
“I wanna come too!” Omega pleaded with Tech, but he shook his head.
“Negative. We do not know the situation. If assistance is required, then you will be notified.”
Omega didn’t like the idea of not going with, but listened anyway. Wrecker keeping her occupied until Cid and Millegi showed up.
Following your com signal, he eventually found you. He was relieved to see you were safe.
“Ah there you are.” You didn’t respond. At first Tech thought you just didn’t hear him, so he tried again.
“Problem?”
You said nothing, instead shifting where you sat. He said it again. But again, there was nothing. He approached.
He saw all of your gear strewn about on the ground around you. Then took a moment to study your body language. Your hands were over your ears, and your eyes were tightly shut. You made yourself small where you sat.
‘Oh’
He looked around to try and see what he could do to change your surroundings, but when he couldn’t find anything he chose to sit beside you. Your eyes were still squeezed shut, moisture at their corners as you snapped your fingers. Your body couldn’t decide between refusing stimuli or letting it out. He remembered the one-time use earplugs he kept on him for Hunter (or for himself), taking them out of a pocket and placing them next to you. 
“Here,” he said softly, only saying what was necessary.
You grabbed them and placed them in your ears, taking in a shaky breath. You brought your knees to your face and pressed them into your eyes. Your hands were free to move about however they needed to. 
He chose that simply offering his presence until you expressed you needed him would be best. He knew that sometimes interacting with others during a meltdown was hard. At least, it was for him. He grabbed his data pad from one of his many pockets to occupy himself while he gave you time. He would be there when you were ready, no matter how long that might be. It would be a few minutes before you said anything or acknowledged him in any way.
“Did you win?”
He looked up at you, your cheek resting on your knee as you looked in the opposite direction of Tech. Your sudden break of silence caught him off guard.
“Of course, was there any doubt?” He asked back. You shook your head no and smiled to yourself before frowning again.
“Can you hug me?” you asked him quietly. He hummed in confirmation before lifting the arm closest to you. Turning around and seeing his arm open for you, you leaned into his side. He squeezed you gently, giving you the pressure you needed in that moment. 
You sat together, Tech finding his own comfort from the stress of the past two days with you. He rubbed your arm with his thumb before finding a strand of your hair to twist in his fingers. Breaking the silence when he felt you were ready.
“Why did you not say you were overstimulated?”
You rubbed the flesh between your thumb and finger, “I… I don’t know. I was embarrassed. Everyone else seemed fine and I was- am frustrated that I’m not. It bothers me.”
He looked down at you quizzically, “Why would you be embarrassed? It is completely normal to have different needs. Even clones are different from each other, in one way or another. It is expected.” He told you.
“I know that but it doesn’t feel like the kind of ‘different’ that just makes someone unique I guess. I feel weak, but I know I need to be strong for everybody.”
Tech was quiet for a moment to figure out the right thing to say. He knows how you’re feeling. He’s felt the same way. He took in a deep breath before he spoke, “Being autistic does not make you weak. The way you receive and process information in your brain is different. It is okay to allow yourself time for it to do that. I promise, it is okay to have these needs. I have them too.”
“You do?”
“I do. While I do not have meltdowns often, I frequently have shutdowns. That does not make me a less efficient soldier. Genetically modifying me to be autistic was not an accident. There are desirable traits in autistic people. For example, I have exceptional attention to detail. I have a strong memory that allows me to retain important information. I am loyal. Of course there is more. But I do not wish to come across as egotistical.”
You sat there with Tech’s words. You never thought about the fact that, perhaps, nothing was wrong with you. Just different. You looked up, looking just past Tech’s eyes but flicking to them slightly before asking, “What is there that is good about me?”
He quirked his usual half-smile and looked up into the sky, “For starters, you are empathetic, more so than some. While I am sure this may be difficult for you at times, it allows you to be more compassionate. You are honest and direct, making your transition into our force easier as you are too honest to be distrusted. You are passionate and determined. No matter how many times you fall, you get up and try a new approach. You are not only passionate with things, but with people. You have spent much time learning what our crew members like and dislike, and act accordingly. You are deeply passionate in your relationships and I admire that about you. I could continue if you would like.”
You shook your head, cheeks slightly warm at the praise you asked for.
You found yourself leaning deeper into Tech and he welcomed you. You loved that you were able to find comfort in the exceptional clone beside you. It felt good not having to be alone, and being not only understood but accepted. His armor cooled you but his presence warmed you to your core.
“Thank you Tech I-...I think I’m ready to go now.” You told him shifting away slightly to prep yourself to get up. He nodded and stood, offering a hand to help you to your feet. You smiled up at him softly, feeling something in your soul sprouting in his light.
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judyspiralss · 1 day
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ꜰᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅꜱ ʙᴇᴄᴋᴏɴ ʀᴇʙᴏᴜɴᴅ - ᴅᴏɴᴛɪꜱ ☆
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this is purely platonic! dontis with love (xanthus’ listener) and what i think would of happened if love stayed with dontis at the penthouse :)
pretty much a comfort fic with dontis <3
cw/tw: none i don’t think!
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“i don’t want you to go.”
“i know, love. but i have too.”
xanthus and you stood by the door. the time had come for the fight against the trimedian, the day you all have been dreading for so long. you clung to xanthus’ arm as you beckoned him not to go silently with your eyes. he chuckled slightly, trying to make light of the situation. he had gathered all his things for the fight and was now ready to leave.
“love, i promise it will all be okay. i’ll be fine.” xanthus said, trying to calm your nerves as he felt them through the bond. he put his things down as he hugged you. you tightly hugged him back, as if he’d disappear if you let go. he rubbed your back and kissed your forehead.
“i promise.” he whispered to you.
you felt the tears burn through your eyes as you hid into his chest. you were scared, so scared. he felt them and pulled your face out of his chest.
“hey now, don’t cry.” he said as he held your face and wiped your tears.
“xanthus i’m so scared.” you confessed.
“i know, im scared too. but i need you to try and stay strong for me. you can do that, can’t you love?” he asked, trying to calm you down. you sniffled and nodded, holding onto his hands. he smiled at you and leaned down to kiss you.
“it’ll be okay love. you stay here with dontis where you are safe. he’ll protect you if anything happens.” he assured you. you nodded, swallowing your nerves. you knew he could feel them and it would make his focus worse during the battle.
“of course i will.” you heard a voice from behind you. it was dontis, leaning against the doorway. xanthus smiled at him, kissing your forehead before letting go of you.
“i need to go now love, ill be back.” he said as he grabbed his things.
“stay safe out there. thank you for doing this for us.” dontis said, watching him open the door.
xanthus nodded. “of course.”
your heart sank a little as you watched him walk out the door. he turned round to smile at you as he saw your face.
“don’t make that face love. i’ll be back, i promise.” he chuckled, trying to lessen your anxiety. you smiled and wiped your tears.
“protect them. i’m trusting you, dontis.” xanthus said, looking at dontis. dontis just chuckled at his sudden sternness.
“yes yes, i will, xanny. they’re safe with me.” dontis spoke. xanthus scoffed at the nickname but smiled all the same.
“i’ll see you both soon. stay safe.” xanthus said as he turned round.
“you too.” dontis said as he waved him off and closed the door.
he turned round to you, concern looming over his face.
“are you okay y/n?” he asked, seeing your eyes still watery.
“i’ll be okay, it’s just the nerves is all.” you sniffed as you wiped your eyes, looking at him.
“i understand. your only human after all, its natural.” he gently spoke. “you’ve never been in a situation like this before, have you?” you shook your head. he hummed, understanding what your feeling.
“it’s just…i just want everyone to be safe.” you said.
“i know, i feel the same.” dontis said, putting his arm round your shoulder comfortingly. despite him being taller than you, he still found a way to calm you down with his touch.
“it will all be fine, won’t it dontis?” you said, unsure. he smiled gently, looking down at you.
“of course it will, xanthus has a plan a, b, c, d, and so on, as you’ve saw from the past week.” you laughed at his words. he patted you on the back gently. “no matter what happens, he’ll be able to think of something. thats the way with xanthus.”
you smiled up at him. “thank you dontis. your right, everyone will be fine, i’m sure.”
──── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────
it was currently 11pm, and it had been a few hours since then. dontis was on the balcony, reading while also keeping watch from the outside. you had told him you would be retreating to bed, but in reality, you had gone to stand by the door. staring, just waiting for any sign of xanthus. you had been there for about an hour, and your mind had gone fuzzy from the drowsiness. still, you were determined to stay awake. you had to make sure he came back. you couldn’t sleep without xanthus anyway, you had gotten so used to his comforting embrace in bed that it was useless trying to sleep.
you started to pace back and forth, fiddling with your hands to try and distract your mind from sleeping. you hadn’t felt anything from xanthus from the bond, and it was starting to get to you. you were worried. what if he had been caught? what if he was in any pain but you couldn’t feel it? what if something had happened?
so many ‘what if’s’ plagued your mind that you hadn’t even noticed dontis calling you.
“y/n? what are you still doing up?” you finally heard. you looked up at him, your pacing slowing to a halt and your eyes looking directly at him.
“oh, sorry dontis, i didn’t hear you.” you laughed it off nervously.
“didn’t you go to bed?” he asked. you were about to say ‘yes’ but there was no point, you weren’t going to lie through your teeth straight to an incubus’ face. you sighed.
“no, i’m sorry. i’ve been down here the whole time.” you looked away. “i just need to make sure xanthus comes back okay.”
he sensed your worry. he knew what you were feeling, and he understood. he sighed and stood closer to you.
“i understand, y/n. i get what your feeling. but being this way isn’t going to help you, nor xanthus.” he put his hand on your head and stroked your hair. “you need to rest, i can see you fighting it.”
you looked down, shuffling your feet a bit.
“i know, but i can’t leave him. i need to make sure he’s alright.” you said, gesturing to the door. he hummed, trying to think of a way to get you to rest. he knew how attached you two were, obviously because of the bond.
“i understand, this is only natural for you. but you need to sleep, it’s already late and i can feel how tense you are. you need to relax. it will help both you and xanthus at the same time.” he gave you a gentle smile. “if you don’t want to sleep upstairs, i get it. you can rest on the couch, but just please try to get some sleep, if not for me, then for xanthus.” he persuaded. he wasn’t just doing it for xanthus, he was genuinely concerned for your feelings. he could feel the anxiety racing through your body, and he wanted to help you as best as he could.
you sighed. “okay, i will.” you said, giving in. you could feel how tired your body and mind was, and dontis did have a point. he smiled.
“come on then, i’ll get you a blanket.” he walked to the couch, you following behind him. “make yourself comfortable, i’ll be right back.” he said as you sat down, shifting about with the fluffy decorative pillows that scattered dontis’ couch. very much like him, you thought.
he came back with a fluffy blanket, its patterns and colours shining in the small light. he put it over you and tucked you in, which made you giggle.
“comfortable?” he asked, and you nodded. the warmth of the blanket made you drowsier than ever, like a big comforting hug. you didn’t realise how tired you were until you layed down, but a part of you still had xanthus on your mind.
“try and sleep, if you can. it’s quite late.” dontis spoke, kneeling down to eye level with you. “if you need anything i’ll be just outside on the balcony.” he pointed to where you could see the window where the balcony was. you nodded, and he smiled, and turned around to go back to where he was. but before he could open the door, he heard you call out his name.
“hm?” he turned round to see you sitting up. you looked down and fiddled with your fingers.
“could…could you stay? just for a bit?” you mumbled, a little bit embarrassed. you didn’t want to be left alone, especially when sleeping when the battle was going on. he smiled at you and walked back, sitting down next to you.
“of course i will.” he said.
“i don’t really want to be alone when i sleep.” you confessed. he didn’t blame you, there was a battle going on right now, so he understood.
“here, lie back down.” he said as he put the blanket back over you. once he knew you were comfortable, he put his hand on your head and stroked through your hair. you looked up at him with tired eyes, and he chuckled.
“what? i’m an incubus, it’s my job to comfort people.” he joked, and you laughed with him.
“i do admit it feels…nice.” you said, your breathing slowing. he smiled at you.
“just relax. it’ll all be fine.” he spoke quietly.
with his other hand, he grabbed yours and gently stroked your hand with his thumb. you watched him.
“xanthus would probably be getting protective if he knew you were holding my hand right now.” you said, muffled slightly by the pillow. dontis laughed at your remark.
“i don’t know, he’d probably be glad to know your getting rest, speaking of, close your eyes. you can’t sleep with your eyes open, unless that’s a hidden talent of yours.” dontis joked and you rolled your eyes and scoffed.
“i suppose..” you said, relaxing more into the couch, closing your eyes like dontis asked. you felt lighter every second, dontis’ hand going through your hair reminded you of how xanthus puts you to sleep.
dontis could feel you drifting more and more, smiling at how you accepted his comfort. he gave your hand a squeeze occasionally, and could hear your breathing getting more relaxed.
“there we go. calm down.” dontis whispered.
just before you drifted into sleep, you heard dontis speak.
“good night, y/n.” his hand never leaving yours.
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aaa first dontis fic! i’m sorry this is so short, this is literally an idea i came up with in the middle of the night and i just put it into full LOL
i know it says platonic dontis but i accidentally made him romantic ish but we don’t talk about that
thank you for reading ! requests are still open <3
- jude 🌱
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cobblestone-butch · 20 days
Note
jus saw ur post ab sculptor etho muse joel, ik u got forcibly ejected from the writers room but if i make another writers room will u write it /hj
hey tysm! I ended up writing a little something so it will be below <3 this is mostly just Cleo helping Etho realise what might be going on with his struggles to sculpt. I hope people like and mostly that anyone who knows anything about art would write for it too (I know nothing!)
"So, first things first! Why do you want to learn to pose armour stands, Etho? Have you got a specific project in mind?"
There's an awkward pause.
"I only ask so I can get a good idea of what to focus on. It's just good if we start our work with something you're already interested in, right?"
She's never seen Etho look so... Nervous. Learning can be a vulnerable thing, sure, but Etho has never been shy with questions and comments and the unknown the way some people are. It feels wrong to turn to insults, light as they may be, to ease the attention - they're at a complete loss on what to do other than let him work through whatever he's feeling.
"Nothing, there's nothing... Specific I had in mind. It's... I tried sculpting."
"Okay that's good. That's great! What did you like about sculpting?"
"I didn't like sculpting."
Cleo laughs, a mix of confusion and genuine amusement, "Alright! So why do you want to learn 'armorstandography' then?"
Etho is still looking down, picking what she now suspects to be dried clay or quartz from his clothes. His shoulders drop a little from their previously hunched state though, which is a good sign.
"I just figured that maybe it would be easier. N-not that what you do is easy, I mean, you're clearly very skilled, and that's why I've asked you-"
"Etho, slow down, it's okay. I am perfectly assured in what I do and how much effort it takes. But still, I appreciate it."
"I thought maybe something with color would be more, familiar? I like vibrant colors and how they go together, and sculpting out of quartz is so... Lifeless."
Cleo shakes her head, "I won't teach you, Etho."
Etho snaps his head upwards, looking for some sign that it's some dry British humor he's missed. Cleo's face is even more stony than his recent attempts at sculpting.
"I won't teach you", they repeat, "Not for that reason. Color won't inject life into what you make, Etho. I won't teach you something that isn't true."
"Uh huh..."
"And besides, I don't think I believe you. I bet your sculptures have plenty of life in them." Cleo sees a frown pull on Etho's features, "Go on, prove me wrong."
---
Etho puts his hand on the door leading to his storage area. It's a big enough space for art projects, and it's nice to hear items sort themselves as he works, frustrated as he's been with the outcome of his endeavours recently. Cleo reads his hesitance immediately, and knows that Etho won't find comfort in their reassuring words. Here, at the doorway, she pushes past him.
She's drawn to her own face first. Sat on a block is her own head, looking back at her. She sees her own soft features, big eyes and strong nose. A dozen other faces around the room, and she can just about identify them as their friends. There's one off to the side, hidden enough to not drawn attention but not hidden too much, as if he's given himself plausible deniability for doing it. Etho's problem is not that his sculptures look lifeless. Etho's problem is denial.
It takes Cleo seconds to spot and minutes to confirm - there's only one sculpture amongst the collection that properly resembles the person it's modelled after. Every other head or bust has been affected by it, flawed in different ways but for the exact same reason. They all look a bit too much like Joel. It's in the furrow of her brow, the fierceness of Scar's smile, the curl of Doc's hair. Their eyes are all bright, smiles meeting them in genuine warmth, and Cleo can see even with just quartz how skilled Etho is at what he does.
Cleo isn't sure how aware Etho is that he's making them all in Joel's image, so they opt for asking something less direct, "What do you think the problem is? With these sculptures?"
"They're all... Wrong. I just can't get anyone right, and I'm not exactly going for artistic liberty."
Cleo laughs kindly, "That's not exactly true, is it? I can see one that's particularly uncanny."
"Uncanny valley?" Etho makes the joke before she can, but it's not what she was pitching for.
She walks over to and stands behind the sculpture of Joel. "I like this one. I've definitely seen this face before I've died a few times."
Etho laughs, and it stops the ever-shifting of his feet and the picking at his hands. He runs a hand through his hair, letting it rest at his neck as he rubs at it in slight shame. "He's, ah, a vicious one, Joel. He does this little huff thing, and it sounds like a tiger- he's always in some kind of mood and it's always so big, he can't do anything calmly or slowly, you've seen how quickly he builds, and, I just thought what's the most 'Joel' face I can think of? I remembered how he looked building that TNT cannon..."
Cleo lets him talk. It's nice, after all the awkward, to see him talk to openly about all the thoughts that went into the Joel sculpture. She can almost see what he means when he says the other attempts are lifeless; the animation in his voice when he talks about Joel makes everything else pale in comparison. She doesn't think he realises.
"Do you know what a muse is?" They ask after Etho has run himself out of steam, or perhaps noticed a conspicuous lack of interjection from Cleo, a usually very active listener.
"You mean like an inspiration?"
"Yeah! Well, sort of. In Greek mythology, the Muses were goddesses, and their domains included art of all kinds. And we've sort of derived meaning from that, so plenty of artists say they have muses that inspire them. And it helps them make art even if it's not always about them."
"Uh huh. So you think that I need to find my muse?"
"I think you already have, Etho." She looks down at the head between them, and Etho follows her gaze. Joel's eyes look back at him, intense and alive and challenging. He averts his gaze, something complicated settling over him - what they shared was so long ago, in a time and place so far from here. To feel the pull of that, it feels cosmic and mythical in a way Etho naturally rejects.
It's like Cleo can see through him, always. "It doesn't have to be complicated. It can be as simple as knowing someone well enough to capture a second of their likeness. That's what a lot of my armour stands do, they're just snapshots in time. Maybe you should just talk to Joel."
"Oh, I can't do that."
"Why not?"
"He'll be insufferable about it."
Cleo actually snorts at that. "Fine then, don't talk to him. Just make more excuses to send him mail and wait for an extrovert to bring you to his base to talk, or whatever it is that you guys do."
"You're not far off, Cleo."
"Oh, I know. I have to hear all about it."
"What?! The next time I see Scar..."
---
Joel stares back into his own eyes. The head was left at the gate to his base, like something the mafia might do as a threat. There was a single sign next to it: Feel free to alter or remove - Etho. It's incredible, seeing his likeness through someone else's eyes. He didn't know his hair was so fluffy, his smile so sharp. He picks up the head with a grunt (Bloomin' heck, is this thing solid quartz?!) and moves it somewhere it can be seen, before pulling a book from the chest under his mailbox and penning his sculptor a message.
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uncanny-tranny · 8 months
Text
Your influence in this world doesn't need to be all-encompassing and World Changing. It can be small ripples. It can be gentle and easily missed.
Let yourself do small things. So often, people have this idea that to do "good things," it must be a grand gesture that changes every little thing. Honestly, that can be so intimidating and scary. We weren't meant to carry the world by ourselves. We each contribute, often in small ways, often in ways that aren't seen by everybody. But the people you affect might just take that kindness you gave them and let it light them home. Let yourself be that in whatever way you want. You don't need to carry the world alone.
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pearlcigs · 5 months
Text
⋆ make a woman out of me
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christian!virgin!reader x ellie williams
summary ⋆ you swore to yourself you only longed for ellie in a platonic way, but as you get older you seem to realize just how pretty she really is.
warnings ⋆ 2.95k ⋆ smut, i might get cancelled 🤷‍♀️, reader (non penetrative) virginity loss, religious themes, ellie is 19, reader is 18, pastor's daughter!reader, mentions of homophobia, alludes to reader's parents being homophobic, ellie smokes weed, pet names (pretty girl, babe, honey, baby, good girl), cursing, first kiss, corruption, corruption kink, oral (r recieving)
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time moved slowly within the parameters of jackson. the same familiar faces, day in and day out. though, it was comforting living in such a community. the horrors of the world beyond the walls that stood tall was something you rarely wanted to think about. it made you sick to your stomach to think of your friends, loved ones, even people you weren't particularly close with, outside of the safe walls, being face to face with whatever monsters marred the unhabitual world.
your parents were strict with religion, your father being the only self acclaimed paster that jackson has ever had to offer. there was never a time you could remember, even before finding refuge in the cozy town, where your parents weren't devout. vivid memories of your mother's fingers gliding over the cross necklace she wore around her neck when you would get in trouble. disappointed sighs and signs of the cross, begging the lord above for forgiveness, explaining to the sky you were too young to know what you've done was a sin.
the bible was followed closely in your home, and you obliged without caution. you prayed, attended your father's mass sessions in the tiny chapel just down the road where he preached the bible, wore the holy cross around your neck to show your devotion, you've read the old torn and withered bible you were so lucky to find front to back. religion was all you've ever known and you had found no reason to ever question the man who hung on your wooden walls, hanging from a cross with his hands and feed nailed to it like an animal. that was, until ellie.
"come on, don't you wanna jus' see what it feels like?" ellie teased, waving the joint in front of your face like a taunt. "no thank you." you replied, sitting at the foot of her bed, legs crossed, eyes wandering around her room. when ellie first came to jackson you were infatuated with her, dwindling it down to pure want but only of friendship. "good girl, that's what you say when someone offers you this shit." ellie moves the weed away from your face, inhaling it and then turning away to exhale the smoke away from you.
it started with just friendly smiles, offering to show her around and help her get to know everyone. she was wary of you. honestly, afraid of your friendly demeanor. people on the outside of the jackson walls were cruel and vicious, she thought, with no doubt in her mind, you were being friendly to lure her into some kind of trap. she danced around you with caution, keeping her distance but also decidingly giving you a chance. she quickly became fond of you, your personality, your looks. everything about you appealed to ellie and something about that made you proud, even more eager to befriend her.
the words 'good girl' ring from her mouth and you're not sure how to respond. was there even a proper response to your best friend calling you that? a simple nod was all you could come up with. watching her lips intently as she blew the smoke out of her lungs. your fingers came up to your neck, fiddling with the cross necklace around your neck, a habit passed down from your mother. ellie never paid much attention to your shy outlook on life. you were reserved and a part of her liked that she had so much of you to herself.
it wasn't until you were 17 that you finally came to terms with the fact that your infatuation was more than just a yearning to be her friend. tears of guilt streaming down your face in the confessional at the shoddy chapel, divider between you and the young volunteer who was ready to beg jesus to abolish your sins. "i'm a girl... and i like another girl." you sniffled, lowering the pitch of your voice instinctively so he wouldn't see past your anonymity. ache in your heart when silence was returned, until soft mutterings of a prayer, asking jesus to forgive your tainted heart.
ellie extended her arms behind her head, a small stretch that gave you big feelings. her shirt rode up, exposing the small of her stomach. you swallowed harshly, wondering why god would tempt you with something like this. a soft sigh emits from ellie's lips, flicking the almost finished joint into a nearby makeshift ashtray. another soft sigh falling from her perfect lips. intent eyes trying to be secretive of the no less then unholy thoughts that you were being tempted with.
ellie was put off at first by your fervent religion. her experiences were tainted, never having a good visual of what a healthy relationship with god looked like. she was unsure if you were going to try and convert her into some pious worshipper. you weren't secretive of your religion and that much was enough to make ellie suspicious. with time she realized you were different from the other religious people she's met. only bringing up your religion or anything to do with it when you were directly asked or if it was really important to speak about.
"whatchu lookin' at, pretty girl?" she chuckled as she noticed the way your eyes locked onto her, like if you looked away she'd be gone. it wasn't unusual for ellie to be flirty or to make casual remarks about how pretty you were. still, every time she did your cheeks were adorned in a rosy color. "just you, i guess. i dunno..." you answered back quickly, hoping that answer was enough to satisfy her eager curiosity. "yeah? just me? got something you wanna say to me?" she was just joking around, trying to get you riled up and flustered but you did have things you wanted to say to her.
"no." you answered, though you were sure she wasn't expecting an actual response. "no? yikes, babe, i'm hurt, thought we had somethin' real here." she smiled and you felt the butterflies in your stomach become tongue tied. one thing you loved about ellie above all things was her smile, how the skin around her eyes scrunched up just the tiniest bit, the apples of her cheeks becoming more prominent. everything about her smile made your head spin.
"els, i like you." the words slip out of your mouth before you could even process what was going on. her smile that coerced you to confess to her in the first place falters. "i'm sorry?" she questions, unsure if you meant what she thought you did. you had never said anything that led ellie to believe you were homophobic or that you thought all gay people were sinners like most of the older people who were religious in jackson did. but still she was careful to keep her sexuality from you, strongly assured you would take after your parents' stance on homosexuality.
"i... i don't know why i said that." you say, truthfully. mouth slightly agape and eyes widened with shock that you'd just outed yourself after years of trying to force down your feelings. there was a silence between the two of you. silence wasn't uncommon around each other, sometimes the both of you preferring to spend your time together quietly as a way to unwind after a treacherous day. but this silence was different than those times. ellies breath was caught in her throat, words jumbled on her tongue.
she only began reacting when she saw the panic on your face, followed by your eyes becoming glassy. "hey, hey. don't cry. it's okay." she comforted, sitting up and placing a hand on your knee. she wasn't good at comforting people, you were well aware of that. "i didn't mean to.." you admitted, voice timid and quiet, still uncertain to how she would react. "hey, it's okay, honey." the term of endearment sliding off her tongue like she was meant to call you that for the rest of your lives.
"i'm not mad." ellie affirms, her tone soft, knowing how afraid of other people's anger you are. another flash of silence emerges, just you and ellie staring at each other. neither of you knowing what to say. she pitied you, seeing how much you resented yourself. your bottom lip slotted between your teeth, biting hard enough to potentially draw blood. "don't do that..." she mutters, gently running her thumb over your partially chapped lips, pulling your bottom lip out of your teeth's grasp.
your breath hitches, a small shudder traveling up your spine. your eyes locked on hers, your heart beating loud enough for the whole world to hear. ellie's eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to your eyes. "i've liked you for a while." you admit, knowing there was no going back at this point. "oh, yeah?" her voice was low, some would even describe as seductive. her thumb still lingering on your bottom lip. "yeah." you whisper back, your eyes now flickering down to her lips.
ellie's hand moves to your jaw. her eyes flicking down to your lips one last time before she leans down and presses her lips against yours. her lips are soft, just like you had imagined. she seems skilled, like she knew what she was doing and what the end goal was. a small smile forming on her face as she realizes you have no idea what you're doing. “like this.” she mumbles against your lips acutely aware how clueless you were when it came to romance.
you follow her lead, doing your best to follow her lead. her free hand finding your waist, squeezing gently. you pull away, panting faintly. "i don't know.." you mumble, trailing off as ellie puts her lips back to yours. the hand that was on your jaw roaming to the back of your head, fingers getting tangled in your hair. "i know." ellie responds moments later, her lips brushing against your with each syllable. you couldn't comprehend what was happening, your mind going blank with ellie's lips on yours. she adored the way you looked at her. looking at her like you needed her.
she gently lays you back, grabbing the first pillow she could find and settling it under your head so you were comfortable. her thighs either side of your body, her body weight on top of you, giving you a cozy feeling you'd never experienced before. "you don't even know how long i've been wantin' to kiss your pretty lips..." she whispers, her bangs hanging in front of her face. you bring your hand up to her face, nervously tucking the hair behind her ear. "god, you're so fuckin'..." she stops, just taking a second to admire how alluring you looked under her.
her lips dip down to your neck, slowly biting and sucking on the skin. your breath hitches, a small whine pushing past your swollen lips. ellie groans against the skin of your neck. "make more of those pretty noises f'r me." she mumbles, hips rolling over yours, another whine spilling from you at the pleasurable feeling. ellie's kisses move away from your neck, down your body. trailing down your collarbone to your clothed chest to your stomach. her lips stop, hovering right above your pussy.
your heart was beating out of your chest, you back arching a little in anticipation. "how bad do you wan' it? tell me, baby. tell me how much you wan' me." she was totally and utterly obsessed with you, her mind becoming drunk by the thought of you— the mere sight of you. "p-please, els..." you mumbled, voice timid from embarrassment. it was partially expected though, you'd never done anything like this. "i want you..." it was simple but effective, making ellie go feral for you. "fuck—"
she lowers her lips to your pussy, kissing over the fabric of your shorts. watching her through hooded eyes, your pussy throbbing from her touch. "gonna eat this pussy s'good. show you what you've been missin' out on." she groans, the fabric of your shorts dampening as she trails her tongue over the sensitive area. ellie surprised herself, shocked that she was able to dirty talk to you so easily like this. your hips were writhing against the bed, more eager than you've ever been in your entire life. you felt dirty for wanting this, knowing that god was watching you become a total slut for ellie.
ellie's fingers hooked on your shorts, pulling them down slow as slow could be, chuckling as you whined. "ellie. ellie, please." you muttered, begging for her to hurry up. ellie's eyes rolled back, the sound of you begging getting her more aroused than she's ever been. no one's ever made her feel like this before. she was done with the teasing, if not for your sake but for hers. she pulled your shorts and underwear off swiftly, discarding them somewhere to find later.
her eyes locked on your bare pussy, fighting back a moan at the sight. "you've got me so fucked up, babe." she muttered, kissing around your thighs first. you were nervous, breath shallow and quick paced, hungry for ellie but embarrassed nevertheless. your voice was caught in your throat, blinking quickly as you watched ellie kiss all over your thighs. ellie looked up at you and you were able to see that she was just as nervous as you. "is this okay? you can tell me to stop." she sounded sincere, pushing aside her pure need to get your consent.
you nodded, not trusting your voice. "use your words like the good girl you are, yeah?" she's longing to just taste your glistening cunt. "yes— yes, els. 't's okay..." she doesn't waste another second after hearing your shaky voice, tongue urgently dipping between your wet folds. you moan at the contact, feeling like you were on cloud 9. ellie's tongue presses flat against your clit, your hand clamping over your mouth. moans being muffled as ellie savors the sweet noises your dripping cunt was making.
ellie wasn't fond of you muffling your perfect little sounds, wanting to hear just how good she could make you feel. "let me hear you. don't make me punish you.." you don't move your hand away from your sinful mouth. your free hand finds ellie's, interlocking your fingers which she gladly accepts. "c'mon, baby. let me hear you." she encourages once more, lips moving against you with ease, mixture of your wetness and her spit. but to her dismay, you still ignored her commands. her free hand sliding your shirt up your body to expose your breasts, you were never one to wear a bra. her hand kneading the supple flesh, thumb running over your nipple.
she licks a strip from your entrance to your clit, making your thighs shake with immense pleasure. "wanna be a brat?" she mumbles into your pussy, looking up at you through her eyelashes, staring you down as her tongue circles your clit. "what is it they make you do in confession? hail mary's? 5 of 'em, now. or i stop." she smirks, watching the look in your eye become more flustered by her request. you slowly move your hand away from your mouth, not wanting this pleasure to ever stop.
"h-hail mary, full of grace—" you cut yourself off with a moan, eyes squeezing shut as you lift your hips, pushing your cunt further into ellie's face. "get to ruin this pretty pussy." ellie groans. "keep goin'. don't stop." she aids you to continue, feeling your cunt flutter around her tongue. "the lord is with— is with thee..." you continue, stuttering through the words. "good girl, keep goin' f'r me. let me hear you." she continues to egg you on, talking into your pussy. her own moans mixing in with the sound of yours.
"blessed art thou— ellie, please..." you whine, squeezing her hand and throwing your head back into the pillow, back arching off the bed. "c'mon, pretty girl. blessed art thou..." you toes curl at her words and the feeling of her tongue teasing your entrance. "—amongst... amongst women..." you trail off, mind becoming to hazy to even remember the words to the prayer you've prayed everyday since you could talk. ellie smirked into your cunt, relishing in the feeling of being able to turn your mind into mush, being the only one able to turn your mind into mush.
your moans and whines became breathier and higher pitched with each flick of her tongue. your stomach twisting in an unfamiliar knot. "ah, ah, ellie—" your thighs trying to clench together and push her head away, the feeling becoming too much. "you're gonna cum, baby?" she spreads your legs wider, her only greedy want is to make pleasure wash over you. "ellie! ellie! ellie!" you chant her name, eyes rolling back as the pleasurable wave of your orgasm finally hits you, moans loud and unfiltered.
"there we go... yeah, nice an' easy. fuck." she mutters, tongue fucking you through your high until your writhing and pushing her off of you. her lips relocating to your thighs and slowly working their way up to your pelvic bone, soft kisses against your skin. "tasted so good, baby. best pussy i've ever had." she praises, eager to show you just how much you pleasured her even though you technically didn't make her cum. "els..." you whined, face flushed a rosy red. "yeah, baby. 'm right here." she leaves a trail of kisses up your body as she reaches your lips, leaving a soft peck to let you know she was here. "does this mean you like me too...?" you asked innocently. "are you serious?"
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moonstruckme · 10 days
Note
the sleepy remus drabble was everything but what about sleepy james x reader just cuddling on the couch with remus and sirius teasing them omfgg
Thanks for requesting lovely! I realized halfway through writing this that I wasn't sure if you meant rem and sirius were there platonically or not, but I hope this is alright <3
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 870 words
Even when you hear the voices, you pretend you don’t, too comfortable on the plush cushion of James’ hoodie. Opening your eyes isn’t worth the effort. 
“Is this what they do when we’re not home?” Sirius’ voice is low and ripe with faux outrage.
James hushes him, so he’s awake apparently. His thumb moves over your tummy, big hand tucked into the warmth between your sweatshirt and your bare skin. “You’ll wake her,” he says, voice still sticky with sleep.
“She ought to be awake, it’s five in the afternoon!” 
Remus’ voice is softer, skeptical. “I don’t see how either of you expect to sleep through the night if you nap like this during the day.”
“We manage,” James yawns. 
You hear Sirius huff. If the muscles in your face were more active you think you’d smile. “I thought we were going to Marlene’s thing tonight,” he complains. 
“Still planning on it.” James’ palm splays over your middle, warm and safe. “We’re resting up.” 
“This is how you prepare for Friday nights now? Fuck, we must be getting old.” 
You whine at his volume, nuzzling your face into James’ chest. 
“Oh, so she is awake. What, sweet thing, you don’t feel like saying hi?” 
This time James coos at your protesting sound. His hand slips from beneath your sweatshirt to wrap around your shoulders, shielding you from your pestering boyfriend. 
“Oh, let’s have a bit of sympathy,” Remus says, sounding amused, “she’s had a long, hard day of napping. She deserves a bit of rest.” 
You want to remind him it’s your day off, but speaking feels like giving into wakefulness, and that is something you are not inclined to do. Instead, you try to wriggle beneath the blanket halfway up James’ torso, curling in on yourself like a roly poly. He helps you out, pulling it up to cover your head and draping an arm over your balled-up form. 
“It’s her day off,” he says, your hero. “Why shouldn’t she get to rest?” 
“That’s fair enough,” Remus allows, “but why were you sleeping?”
James hesitates. “Well, I didn’t have anything to do after training and she…she lured me in.” 
It’s true. James after rugby training is like Remus after he spends all day reading; he’s all worn out and pliable, and you’d practically only had to open your arms for him to fall right into them and then a cuddle on the couch had turned into a two-hour nap. Terribly unfortunate. Certainly not your plan all along. 
You decide it’s your turn to protect James from the others, wriggling up on his chest and covering his head with the blanket. You see his smile through half-lidded eyes, and outside of your little cave, Remus chuckles. 
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” 
“I think we should get in bed and have a cuddle they’re not invited to,” says Sirius. “See how they like it.” 
“I’m not sure we can leave them in good conscience.” The sound of Remus' smile makes you smile, your cheek smushing into James’ chest. “She’s just taken Jamie. If we let her go on like this, she’ll have them both sleeping ‘til tomorrow.” 
That actually sounds rather appealing. 
“They’re jealous of us,” James whispers. You hum your agreement, and he kisses the crown of your head. 
“We could go to all their favorite things,” Sirius proposes. “Make them remember the benefits of leaving the couch.” 
“Like what? Watch sports?” 
“And eat pastries. She loves a sweet.” 
“Mm, yeah. I could fancy a sweet.” 
“From the shop on sixth? They should still be open, yeah?” 
“Stay strong, angel,” James whispers. “Don’t let them break you.” 
“They ought to be. Oh, and the pub down that way will be showing the Manchester match tonight. We could stop and see that.” 
“Sick and twisted!” James throws the blanket off, uncovering you in the process. “You never watch football with me.” 
“I have,” Remus hedges, “that one time.” 
“Last year! And you were reading your book on the other side of the pillow!” 
He turns sheepish. “Didn’t realize you’d noticed that.” 
“But now you’re going to watch it just to spite me?” 
“No,” Sirius admits. “We were never going to watch football, Jamie, sorry.” James deflates, and you squeeze him tight around the middle in a show of solidarity. 
“But we can go by the bakery on our way to Marlene’s thing,” Remus says, adding when you perk up, “if we leave soon enough. They make those danishes you like on Fridays, don’t they?” 
“Seriously?” you ask, your voice croaky and hopeful. 
“That’s me, babe,” Sirius teases, “and I’m down to stop by, but only if I get what I’m owed.” At your blank look, he raises a dark brow. “My welcome home kiss?” 
Oh. “You’re gonna have to come down here,” you mumble. He makes a show of rolling his eyes, but obliges you, bending at the waist to take your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours firmly. He does the same to James once you’re done, straightening with a satisfied look on his face. 
“Appeased?” Remus asks placidly. 
“Yes,” Sirius answers, “the evening may now continue. Up, you two. We’ve got places to be.” 
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stevieschrodinger · 3 months
Text
I don't know, ficlet AU sort of thing.
Alpha Steve has a YouTube channel that, kind of, started by accident. Steve is not the most confident reader, like, at all. The words get kind of muddled and he got into a habit of just sort of trying to rush it, figuring he was going to mess it up anyway, so get it over with, right? And then he just sort of stops reading, even though he enjoyed it, because he couldn't get his brain to slow down and the muddling got worse and...yeah.
So one day, his platonic soul mate bestie suggests he read out loud. To someone. If he reads every word out one at a time, knowing it has to be clear enough for the other person to follow, that'll slow him down.
So, he tries it, but only for Robin. And it sort of works, kind of, and then she hits on him using something so he can only see the line he's reading, like a bit of card with a letterbox cut in it, and...Steve is on fire.
The words don't get muddled up so much, and his reading is slow and even, and he needs to read to someone, and Robin can't always be there. It becomes his own pet project, he reads out little bits of books he likes, parts of articles he has enjoyed, poems, whatever, and starts his own little you tube that has like, five followers, and they're all people he knows.
And then suddenly, almost overnight, Steve finds himself with four thousand followers. A very large portion of them are very clearly Omega, from the comments, and Steve suddenly finds himself with a lot of fans who are using his videos for white noise. He's literally reading thousands of Omegas off to sleep.
Which is...nice. Steve likes it. The hits and followers on his videos seem to settle down after a couple of weeks, and then, after having so many comments about how settling Steve's voice is, how the Alpha is relaxing and safe. Steve thinks fuck it.
As a test, he makes a ten minute video directly for that audience. He builds a nest, films it POV. He films the view of someone walking through the bedroom door, of what they would see as they climb into the nest, then resting the camera on his own chest.
Then he starts talking. Tells the omega how perfect they are, how much he cares for them, wants to protect, keep safe. How soft they are as he pets them, how warm and cosy they are in their nest. How snuggles with the omega are Steve's favourite thing.
He deliberately keeps everything as vague and gender neutral as he can. The video fucking explodes. Goes viral. Millions of hits, thousands and thousands of followers. Robin and the kids think it's hilarious, and encourage him to keep going, claiming he's doing a public service.
Hundreds of copycats spring up, but no one pulls it off quite like Steve.
He knows there are Omega out there getting off to his videos, despite there being absolutely nothing sexual about them, but Steve figures, whatever makes people happy.
He gets so many positive comments, omega telling him how much comfort he brings them. He has some regular commenters that he gets to know, too, which is nice. Sometimes he even takes requests, small things, the colour of his shirt, the time of day he shoots his videos, certain words and phrases.
One supportive commenter always stands out though : EdDio86. Steve's pretty sure he's male omega, and he's always so grateful when Steve posts a new video. The guy clearly has a lot of trouble sleeping, and apparently Steve really helps. They have a little back and forth in the comments, learning little bits about one another. Steve likes this omega.
Steve also gets the impression the omega is sorely lacking any comfort in his life. Considering the length of his comments, the guy never asks for anything.
Until he does.
At the end of a comment, always ever so politely thanking Steve, EdDio86 admits he's 'in a bit of a pickle' and could Steve, please, do a video where 'the omega' is with pup? Could Steve tell the omega that the pup is fine, and healthy, and that the omega is doing good and the pup is okay and everything will be okay...but cool if not. Bit of a weird request, I know, sorry to be a bother.
And Steve suddenly doesn't give a shit about the consequences of just,,,dropping his personal email out into the world like that, because he wants to tell this guy these things personally.
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Text
The gang + powerful overlord reader who is trying to reform
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A/n: Tbh I don't have the strongest grasp on what makes an overlord an overlord but I tried. Everything here is platonic!
Warning: Very slight alluding to suicide. It's in one sentence and not supposed to be about suicide but I just wanted to warn y'all in case.
(Not beta read!)
You honestly didn't want to be an overlord. But if you had some power maybe the citizens of hell would leave you alone. And you were admittedly powerful. Which wasn't by your own doing, just like in the living world everything was down to luck. And you won the lottery. So you decided to spend the money and became an overlord. Just to lower the chance of demons pestering you.
It worked. It worked too well. You took out a few overlords, it was dirty. You caught them off guard in the middle of going about their life. You don't keep up with politics. To your surprise, you took out two heavy hitters. Which did result in people not pestering you. But not just that it resulted in them outright avoiding you. You didn't feel good about killing them, you just killed as many as you thought would need to make you noteable. If you had just killed the two it would have removed more unnecessary deaths that you caused.
People would literally light themselves on fire rather than be near you. Out of fear of what gruesome way you would kill them. Not that you would kill them but rumors spread. It went from you just stabbing the overlords to torturing them in the most messed up way possible. You being this insanely powerful and sadistic being. That was the only way they could imagine you killing some of the most powerful creatures in hell.
So it was like that for years. As you were walking around the death and carnage you didn't mean to cause. Amidst all the screams you heard a TV playing. You check it out and it was some sort of ad. You recognized Angel from Val. Whenever Velvet was the one to show up at meetings she would always manage to bring up her and the other Vee's social media presence. Which with Val would involve his pornos. At least he's able to escape from that prick sometimes. Despite the glitch he was somehow causing and his face being hidden you also recognized Alastor.
You didn't know much about your colleague's personal lives. You barely showed up at the meeting but this piqued your interest. But it was quickly cut off by the news.
"Breaking news in hell today!" One of the broadcasters, Katie, spoke, "We have just received word from the Heaven embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before!"
Well fuck you guess. You were never worried about exterminations. Not only did you have a safe area then none of the angels seemed to visit, if they killed you you'd be out of this dumpster fire. Granted you could go to an even worse dumpster fire but you didn't know that for sure.
But you were interested in whatever that first ad was for. Granted everyone was panicking so it wasn't like you could ask anyone about it. However, the news cut right back to the ad.
"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" A woman with an x over her eye spoke.
It cut to Husk (Who you've only heard snippets about from Alastor.) and Angel.
"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel." Husk's eyes lingered below him. Clearly reading a script. If his eyes didn't give it away his monotone voice certainly did. "Can I help you with anything?"
"I've been a bad boy. And I need a big strong daddy to put me in my place." Angel moaned. There was a slight sigh coming from behind the camera. Okay ew. You were not trying to see porn while going for a walk. Just as you were about to walk away Angel spoke up again, "On the path to redemption!"
Oh! That sounded... quite nice actually. You didn't exactly believe in the idea. But a chance to get away and even a chance to redeem yourself was a very nice idea.
You went to the hotel's door and racked against the door. Which was kind of stupid. Hotel doors don't need to be knocked on but it still felt like the right thing to do. The fucking princess of hell herself opened the door with a somewhat panicky smile plastered on her face.
"Hello-" She bit her lip "One second." She left but left the door open a creek, "Vaggie it happened again!" She yelled you could hear the rest of what she was saying but you saw a red glow approaching the door.
Before you knew what was happening your hand (and whole body was being shaken by the Radio demon himself, "Why hello y/n!" His staticky voice greeted, "Are you here to watch this wayward adventure fail as well? Or perhaps you aim to entertain it?" Alastor unnerved you. While you were the same on power level he was unpredicted any vengeful thoughts he had were hidden behind his smile.
He was gently pushed away by Charlie. "So sorry about the wait, just wasn't expecting another powerful overlord." She vaguely gestured to Alastor, "So do you want to check in?" Her voice was cautiously hopeful.
"Yep!"
Her eyes turned the size of saucers, "OK! Great so um sorry I'm just so excited! You can go choose your room! A few are already occupied by our guests and staff! But it's pretty easy to tell which rooms are taken." She rambled. As she guided you through the hotel the woman with an x over her eye pointed a spear at you as you passed by.
A short one-eyed girl scattered around. The exact opposite of how she was in the ad. She stabbed a bug with a whole knife getting dangerously close to Husk being at the end of her knife in the process.
Angel glanced at you and any color his already pure white face had drained. Uh oh.
"One minute." You said and walked over to the spider demon, "Fyi just to let you know I also want to kill Val. Just say the word and I might finally be able to go through with it." You said in a hushed voice. He was still tense but visibly relaxed.
You soon found a room and got somewhat set up. You'd have to bring some stuff from your house tomorrow. But today you decided to just collapse onto your bed. While your first impressions weren't of a super chill place, it did give the impression of a family. Maybe your life wouldn't be so much of a living hell here.
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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year
Note
headcanons of the bois+ könig with a reader who is quite young to be at the 141, but they soon realize that they're not as innocent as they look like? i hope this is an appropiate request : )
Ooh! We love a badass 😭❤️ (I wasn’t sure if this was meant to be platonic or romantic but I tried to make it so it can be read as either)
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
Honestly thoroughly impressed
You clicked instantly with Gaz and Soap, and that didn’t exactly fill him with confidence
He’d passed you off as a young and reckless kid, he wasn’t exactly eager to have you in his squad but who’s he to argue orders
(That’s a lie, he voiced his concerns to Price who told him to trust you)
But then he saw you on the field, focused, precise, deadly, and absolutely lethal if you found your back against the wall
After you seeing you take down a group of men at least twice your size and walk away relatively unscathed, he decided to take you under his wing
He’d train with you constantly, on the mats, in the range, in the gym and you’d take his lessons in stride, he’s not doing it to hone you into an even deadlier weapon
He’s sharpening your skills so you can come back to him in one piece
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
When you were first introduced to the team, he had his reservations but took it upon himself to protect you, no matter what
Especially after you so happily laughed at his jokes
So when you were shipped out together and you provided the most excellent cover fire he’s ever experienced, he’s heavily rethinking his initial judgement of you
He’s reconsidering it even more when he saw you single-handedly cleared the floor while supporting him on your shoulder
“Steamin’ Jesus, didn’t see that comin’” not only was he referring to the surprise attach, but to the lethal force you used to handle the situation
“That why you got me, Soap, I’ve got you.” You beamed up at him, and his heart melted.
Bad ass or not, he still vowed to protect you.
John Price:
He’s not as surprised as the rest of them, he read through your file, saw your accomplishments in the academy
He wasn’t as surprised but his expectations were certainly high, that didn’t mean he didn’t feel any less obligated to keep you safe
Still, when you came at your opponents with deadly accuracy and precision he’s only ever seen from Ghost, he’s a little aghast, definitely not in a bad way though
He’s 100% impressed, his expectations were exceeded but now he had a different reason to worry about you
So to help you stay as safe as possible, he paired you with Ghost to strengthen your training, he doesn’t want you to hurt yourself needlessly
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:
Absolutely blindsided
If you look babey, and you sound babey, then you are babey
So when Price paired you with him, he definitely had his reservations
But seeing you in action was a completely different story. He honestly struggled to believe that he was watching the same person he’d just had coffee with this morning
You’re telling me this lethal one person army was sharing memes and TikTok’s with him this morning??? Unreal.
At the same time, he’s pretty young looking himself and can relate to being judged because of that. So he feels bad for second guessing your strength
He’s definitely asking you for pointers when you get back to base
König:
Not surprised but still a little surprised, he knows firsthand that appearances aren’t always what they seem, so when he was told you were a force to be reckoned with, he believed it. But still quietly promised himself to keep both eyes on you.
So when you were shipped out together, he was a little too focused on trying to protect you that he left himself open to injury
And then he saw it
He saw every ounce of your prowess. You were on a warpath, doing everything possible, single-handedly, to clear the area so the two of you could leave. You came back to him, breathless, and enchanting. You stretched your arm out to him, keeping an eye over your shoulder,
“Come on, big guy, let’s get you up.”
And here I- agh- thought I’d be protecting you.” He teased, groaning as he accepted your hand and helped himself up. You braced yourself as you pulled him upright,
“Maybe next time, Köni. For now, I’ve got you.” You laughed, flashing him a bright smile. Next time, he’d have your back. He swears it.
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jgracie · 1 month
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(E)STELLAR BABYSITTING!
masterlist | rules
in which you and percy babysit his younger sister estelle (and chaos ensues)
pairings percy jackson x fem!reader, platonic!percy jackson x estelle blofis, platonic!fem!reader x estelle blofis
warnings reader wants kids in this, knife mention (no one gets hurt dw)
an mentioned this in my percy dating hcs so obviously i had to write it
When Percy asked you if you wanted to help him babysit Estelle for the day, you agreed with no hesitation. You saw how hard his parents worked, and living in Camp Half-Blood taught you to never underestimate the difficulty of dealing with little kids. Besides, you love Percy’s family and spending more time with your boyfriend wouldn’t hurt, right? 
If only you knew how wrong you were. 
“Babe, baby, Y/N,” Percy said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest, “you don’t need to read all of that, I’ve got in here!” You took a glance at him and found him tapping on his head.
You smiled, continuing to read as you mumbled, “well, I don't.” The ‘that’ in question was a paper with a bunch of notes Sally had scribbled down for the two of you before she left. They were really simple things, like Estelle’s nap times and favourite foods, but you couldn’t help but go through them thoroughly just in case, since you really didn’t want to mess this up. 
Percy grabbed the paper from your hands and threw it away, grinning at the shocked expression you sported. Soon enough, you let out a chuckle and then he started laughing, which triggered you to laugh even more, resulting in the two of you writhing on the floor in laughing fits, arms wrapped around your stomachs as tears fell from your eyes.
Until you remembered what you were here for. Suddenly stopping, you looked around and realised Estelle was nowhere to be seen, “Percy, she’s gone,” you said, your heart beating faster and faster. Percy quickly got up and began frantically searching for his sister, mumbles of “oh my Gods,” and “mum’s gonna kill me,” tumbling out of his lips. You were in a very similar position, biting your lip and fighting back tears (of anxiousness this time) while looking for Estelle, praying to your Godly parent and any other who happened to be listening that she was safe and you’d find her soon.
“Pretty,” you heard a child’s voice whisper. Immediately, you and Percy ran to the kitchen, and sure enough, Estelle was there. Somehow, she managed to climb up the counter, sit there and play with a knife. You yanked the knife from her hand and breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that she was unscathed. 
Picking her up and setting her down on the floor, Percy said, “I’m gonna hide all the utensils, and then we’re getting out of here. I don’t think the house is safe anymore. Could you get her ready?”
“Sure, but where are we going?” You asked, lifting Estelle and rocking her up and down as she absentmindedly played with the beads on your camp necklace. Percy paused for a second, thinking about where to go before choosing the park nearby. It was walking distance, so you wouldn’t need to take the bus, decreasing your chances of losing Estelle.
While Percy babyproofed the house, you changed Estelle into a cute skirt and matching t-shirt she’d gotten from Poseidon himself. You never would’ve thought the God was a fashion diva, but there’s a first time for everything! 
“Okay Stella, what do you want to do with your hair?” You asked, setting her down on a stool facing the vanity as you started looking for all the various hair tools you could use. Noticing her silence, you stopped and slowly turned, afraid to find her gone again. Luckily, she was where you put her, her eyes wide as she stared at you. 
You were about to repeat your question when she pointed her finger at you, beaming and saying, “pretty.” Your eyes widened and you couldn’t help but smile back at her, her words tugging on your heartstrings. You shyly mumbled a “thank you,” your face heating up as you asked your question again. This time, she answered you, deciding on a braid. 
Braiding and humming a tune, you felt content. Sure, the babysitting hadn’t started great, but the park was always a good idea. There, you’d be able to keep a watchful eye on Estelle at all times, since there aren’t any kitchens for her to hide in. You were so wrapped up in your braiding you didn’t notice a certain pair of watchful sea-green eyes locked on you. Percy leaned on the doorframe of the room, not wanting to make a noise as he quite enjoyed staring at your serene facial expression - the type you’d only ever see demigods make in their sleep, and even that was rare considering all the nightmares. 
“Okay, I’m done! You look so gorgeous, Stella!” You exclaimed, really proud of your work. At the sound of your happy voice, she started giggling. 
“I’m starting to think you like my sister more than me. Don’t I look gorgeous too, babe?” Percy asked, finally making his presence known as he took long strides towards you. He pouted, feigning hurtness. 
Giving him a peck on the lips, you said, “you look the most gorgeous, Perce.” Satisfied with your answer, he began peppering kisses all over your face, slowly nearing your lips before you put a hand on his chest, stopping him.
“There’s a kid here,” you said, smiling at Percy’s scowl. And with that, the three of you headed to the park.
Your journey to the park was a quick one with no issues, as each of you walked with one of Estelle’s hands in yours, preventing her from running away. Now that you were there, you freed her from your clutches, allowing her to play while the two of you sat on a bench nearby, making small talk and occasionally cheering her on whenever she glanced at you.
“She’s such a sweet girl,” you told Percy, leaning your head on his shoulder. He hummed, a goofy smile on his face as he thought of the idea of the two of you having a child - one with his hair and your eyes, or maybe his eyes and your hair, it didn’t really matter. You noticed this and raised an eyebrow, asking, “what’re you smiling about?”
Percy blushed, suddenly awfully shy, “would you wanna have one with me?” He asked, making your eyes widen. 
“I mean, obviously not now, but in the future, yeah,” you smiled, already knowing Percy would be the perfect father for your kids. You continued to talk about your future kids, toying with the possibility of them inheriting your demigod powers, and were so wrapped up in your own world you didn’t notice a certain girl you came to the park for was gone.
“Wait, where’s Estelle?” You asked, unable to see her anywhere.
“Oh Gods, not again!”
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mypoisonedvine · 2 years
Text
𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 \\ eddie munson x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 \\ eddie's a little surprised when you ask him to come over to platonically stay the night, but he's happy to try to make you feel better however he can.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 \\ 6.5k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 \\ SMUT (18+ ONLY), unprotected sex, mentions/discussions of a break-in, mentions of drug use, there was only one bed, fluff, kinda hurt/comfort (but less hurt more comfort)
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"Thanks," you whimpered, sounding just as weak as you looked right now— your eyes were heavy and sunken in, your lips chapped, shoulders slumped.  "I just feel safer with someone here."
Not that Eddie was in any place to judge your appearance.  He'd walked here in the rain and probably looked a mess.  "Of course!" he offered as he stepped inside and you shut your door behind him.  He slipped off his jacket and tossed it on the couch, shaking the rain off his hair in a way not dissimilar to a dog after a bath.  "Wow, storm's been pretty relentless, huh?"
"Yeah," you agreed quietly, reaching up to cross your arm over your chest and clutch your opposite elbow.  "The cops said that's why they couldn't catch the guy— rain washed away fingerprints, and mud filled footprints, so…"
He nodded, looking down nervously at his shoes on top of your pale blue linoleum. "Can't believe some asshole's breaking into trailers.  What valuables does he think you have in here?"
"Well, they said he might have been looking for me…"
Eddie instantly regretted mentioning it.  He hadn't even thought of it like that, and it made a surge of emotions hit him when he did; most of all, a strange instinct to make sure you were safe.  "Do they think he might come back?"
You bit your lip, glancing down too with a shrug.
"Well, nobody's gonna try and mess with you once they get a glimpse of Smith & Wesson," he added jokingly, hoping to lighten the mood.
"Eddie!" you gasped.  "Did you bring a gun?"
You said it like it was a dirty word, even though he knew you had a revolver in here at some point.  "No, no," he assured, "those are my biceps: Smith—" he flexed one arm— "and Wesson." He bit his lip as he flexed the other, raising and dropping his eyebrows quickly.  You laughed, covering your nose and mouth with your hand as you snorted.  
He was quite proud of himself for amusing you, and even slightly hopeful that the tank top he was wearing (which he'd made by slicing the sleeves off of an old Zeppelin shirt) actually made him look muscular.
"So… I'll set up on the couch?" he assumed.
"Oh," you mumbled, seeming shy again.  "I mean, if you want…"
"What's the other option?" he wondered.
"Well," you said quietly, crossing your arms— damn it, he'd made you uncomfortable somehow.  Eddie was perceptive enough to read your demeanor, but too oblivious to understand what he'd done to make you shut down.  "The couch is fine."
He sighed, stepping closer to you.  "You said over the phone that it would make you feel better if I came over.  That's literally what I came for.  So, tell me what I can do.  I can stay up all night— or I can sleep outside on the porch if you want!"
"No!" you refused, starting to smile again.  "If it's not too weird, I thought you could be in my room with me.  I just…"
You sighed and began again, while Eddie's heart sped up a bit.
"If something happened, I wouldn't want you all the way across the house."
He looked to the bedroom door, to the couch, and back again.  "Sweets, it's a trailer," he announced with a sarcastic tone and a raised eyebrow.  "It's, like, five steps across."
"Come on," you rolled your eyes, "you know what I mean!"
"I do," he relented, "and it's fine.  I can be in your room if you want."
You smiled bashfully, looking down and pulling your shoulders up to your ears.  "Thanks," you breathed.
He hadn't asked the obvious question yet because he didn't want to seem too forward— maybe he'd walk in to your bedroom with you and see a pallet on the floor by the bed already; or, maybe he'd walk in and see a typical trailer bedroom which takes its name quite seriously and barely has room for anything but the bed.
When you guided him down the hall, he swallowed as he realized it was indeed the second.  "Sorry, it's kinda messy in here," you offered as you quickly kicked some trash aside, straightening out your bedspread a bit.  "I'm not usually this much of a slob, I swear—"
"No, it's okay, I'm in no place to judge," he promised, "and it's been clean when I've been here before."
He hadn't come over that many times, especially after you stopped smoking pot for your job so he didn't sell to you anymore.  He considered offering to toke up with you now, he thought it might call your nerves (which is why he brought some in his jacket pocket just in case), but it never really came up— you just seemed excited for a chance to get some sleep, considering you clearly hadn't been resting well.
"I'll stay on top of the sheets," he decided suddenly.  "For your modesty."
You nodded but started to pull down your pants a second later; he suddenly found the farthest corner of your ceiling quite fascinating and stared at it intently.  So much for modesty.  "I never sleep with pants," you explained as you crawled into the bed in just your loose t-shirt and white cotton panties.
"Lucky for you, I always keep mine on," he offered with a weak laugh.  Normally he would lose his shirt first, though, but it wasn't restrictive anyways, so he just laid on top of the bed carefully.  He sighed as he found a semi-comfortable position on his back, interlacing his fingers and resting the joined hands on his stomach.
"Don't tell me you actually sleep like that," you noticed with a smirk, and he looked at your face where it was peeking out from under the puffy quilt.
"Normally I sleep hanging upside down in the closet with my arms crossed," he joked, demonstrating the classic vampire-sleeping-in-coffin pose, and you laughed.
"You always struck me as a stomach sleeper," you informed him.  Wait, she's thought about that?
"I usually go for the left side," he corrected.  “You?”
“Lately I’ve just been curled up in a ball,” you admitted, “but I move around a lot— and you can wake me up if I’m snoring!”
“No, it’s fine,” he promised.
“Okay, well, goodnight,” you decided, reaching up to your bedside lamp.  Eddie began to turn onto his left side, which meant he was facing you, and adjusted the pillow under his head carefully.  He could tell you normally used this pillow because it smelled like your hair— was that why his heart was racing each time he took a breath in?
You flipped off the light, plunging the room into near-total darkness except for the distant yellow glow of another trailer’s porch light peeking through your blinds.  "It's okay if I sleep, right?" he whispered.  "You don't want me to stay up in case something—?"
"It's fine, I just want someone here," you explained.  Your voice got softer as you admitted, "I've never liked sleeping alone."
"That… explains a lot."
"Hey!" you yelped defensively, and he heard you turn under the blanket to face him.  "Are you calling me a slut?"
He raised his eyebrows.  "Are you denying it?"
You harrumphed.  "I know you can see my door from your window, but you've gotta stop spying, Ed— it's creepy.  And it's none of your business if guys are coming over."
"I know!  That's why I don't look— which is why you don't have a handy eyewitness for your B&E."
"I don't have an eyewitness because you were dead asleep," you corrected, "and so was everyone else. I'm guessing that was his motive for trying to get in at four in the morning."
There was a weighty pause.  "I don't spy on you," he insisted again.
"Okay, sure," you agreed, "not anymore."
"I never did!"
"Right,” you said, and he could hear your smirk even if he couldn’t see it.  He sighed, relenting to your depiction of him as a creep who watches you from his window— until the silence got longer and longer, and he just couldn’t help himself.
“I just wanted to make sure nobody shifty was coming around,” he blurted out, hearing you let out a quiet laugh.
“Eddie, they were all shifty,” you sighed.  He didn’t say anything, because he was afraid if he agreed too quickly it would offend you.  “Goodnight,” you offered again.
“Goodnight,” he returned quietly.
There was another long silence, almost long enough that he really thought you would fall asleep— personally, he was wired and would probably spend a few hours listening to you breathe before he drifted off— until you spoke again just a bit later.  "You're not cold, are you?" you whispered.
"Huh?  No, no," he denied.  Yes.
"You can get under the covers…"
God, he wanted to. And he figured he'd be able to control himself and everything— but he hesitated.  It wasn't too far, right?  Friends can share beds… even if he really didn't think until now that you and him actually were that kind of friends.  It's not like you were ever especially close, you just talked sometimes, even less now that you weren't a customer.  He was pretty surprised when you called him to ask for this.
And in the dark, Eddie got a little braver.
"Why did you ask me to come here?" he suddenly interrogated, until he heard how sleazy that question sounded.  "Uh, I mean, not why did you ask me to come here, but… why did you ask me?"
"Because I trust you," you answered simply.  "You always made me feel safe.  There aren't a lot of guys in this trailer park that I want here to try to defend me if it comes down to it— I mean, fuck, one of them is probably the guy who tried to break in that night!"
He nodded, already trying to imagine which of those lowlifes might try to hurt you— and wondering if he could take them.  He sighed when he realized that he didn't have much chance fighting any of the men here.  Unless it was Ricky Lupowski, Eddie had no shot— but even then, he didn't exactly want to beat up a twelve-year-old.  Hell, you could take Ricky if he was giving you any trouble, Eddie knew you were pretty tough: that was part of why it was so jarring to see you this vulnerable.  "I'm not the toughest guy you could call, though," he reminded you.  "I know people think I look kinda scary, but—"
"I know," you agreed.  "You're not the toughest guy, but… you're the safest."
Suddenly he wanted to switch his story— me, safe?  Nah, babe, danger's my middle name!  Hardened criminal, metal guitarist, occasionally maker of an illegal U-turn—
"That's why I wanted you to come," you finished, "and it's why I don't care if you get under the covers if you're cold up there."
From the looks of the guys he'd seen coming to your door when he definitely wasn't spying, it seemed like danger was usually what you wanted between your sheets.  And sure, Eddie wasn't exactly the valedictorian in khakis that he assumed every girl wants to bring home to mom— but he knew he wasn't like your usual fare either: no motorcycle, no neck or face tattoos, no prison time (yet).  
“B-but don’t feel like you have to,” you suddenly mitigated.
“No, it’s cool,” he decided as he curled his legs up to his chest so he could slip under the blanket and top sheet.  “They, uh, feel nice…”
“Thanks,” you mumbled. 
“Are they expensive or something?” he wondered as he adjusted himself in them— you were still a few inches away from him, but somehow it was like he could feel your body heat from all the way over here.
“No, they’re just clean,” you explained.
“Right…” he trailed off.  “Anyways, I’m glad you trust me— not just ‘cause it means I get to sleep under the covers.”
You snorted.  “Sure,” you shrugged.
“I mean it— if I can make you feel safer, that’s good,” he announced.  He was, in part, trying to convince himself; because in a certain way, it did sting.  You invited him here specifically because you knew he wouldn’t try anything, and you were right, but he sort of wished sometimes that he was the kind of guy you’d invite over for some comfort of the non-platonic variety.  But, he still really enjoyed being the guy that made you laugh, and the guy that made you feel safe, and the guy that got to be here with you right now.
"Actually, I thought if Wayne answered the phone, I might ask him to come,” you admitted.  “He told me when I first moved in to let him know if anybody here gave me any trouble— including but not limited to you.”
Sounds like Wayne.
“But I figured he'd turn it down— like, he'd say something about how I'm an unmarried young lady and he wouldn't wanna 'disrespect' me," you chuckled.  
"Yeah, he's pretty old school," Eddie agreed, "but he'd keep you safe for sure.  He actually would have brought a gun.  If he decided to come in the damn trailer at all."
“Yeah,” you laughed, “old people are weird.  Like, apparently they think if you spend the night here that’s the same as us having sex?”
He laughed too.  “Yeah, that’s so crazy.  ‘Cause obviously we’re not…”
“Of course!” you agreed emphatically.  “You’re just doing me a favor.  Which I really appreciate— I know it’s probably harder for you to sleep here.”
“No, it’s great, actually,” he blurted out— realizing it sounded sort of weird once it was out of his mouth.  “For Wayne, I mean.  He got to upgrade from the fold-out bed tonight.”
“Oh, that’s good,” you hummed, but his eyebrows furrowed when he felt you shake.  It happened again, and he realized: “Sweets, are you shivering?”
“Y-yeah, but the sheets are just cold still,” you explained.  
“You took off your pants!” he remembered.
“Well, I can’t sleep with them on!” 
“Yeah, but you can’t sleep if you’re freezing, either,” he sighed.  “Did you ever get your heater fixed?”
“Um…”
He frowned.  “Didn’t that break like two months ago?”
“Y-yeah, but who needs a heater in August?”
“It’s not August,” he reminded you.
“But it was when it broke.”
He rolled his eyes, but then you shivered again.  “It dropped, like, twenty degrees when this rain came in,” he reminded you.  
“Yeah, I noticed,” you replied.
The next time you shivered, he heard your teeth chattering, and he instinctively scooted closer to you.  “Is there another blanket I can get you?” he asked.
“No, but—” you began, and his breath caught when he felt your hand— your ice cold hand— reach out and touch his shoulder.  “You can just—”
You moved closer to him and he started to move back.  “I don’t think I should—”
"Just, hold me?” you pleaded in a quiet, meek voice.  “So I can get warm enough to fall asleep?"
God, he was so completely powerless to you asking that, even if he knew it was a bad idea.  He wanted to help you so badly— and he knew it was more than your temperature that made you ask him for that.  He’d never seen you like this: scared and weak and worried.  “O-okay,” he agreed quietly, reaching his arms out and letting you settle between them.
Your face pressed to his chest, your nose poking his skin that was left exposed by the low and jagged cut— and the tip of that was cold too, he could just imagine giving it a little kiss.
“Is this okay?” he asked, and he felt you nod.  Carefully, he let his arm rest so it draped around you— but he didn’t let his hand touch anything but the sheets on the other side.
You hummed as you pressed yourself against him even more, your legs tangling with his, your tits— oh god, he couldn’t even think about your tits right now, because if he did he would remember that they were squished up on his torso and he’d wonder if being so cold meant your nipples were hard—
He cleared his throat, knowing that through his sweatpants, his dick was pressed to your tummy.  He willed it to somehow not get hard from this, putting all his energy into not moving or reacting at all.
“Thanks,” you whispered.  “This helps a lot.”
“Of course,” he breathed in return.  “Wh-whatever helps…”
He felt you take a deep breath against his skin, the softest fan of warm air hitting him when you exhaled.  Your arm was around him, but he hissed when you slid your hand up and the cold skin made contact with his bare back.  “Sorry,” you reacted instantly.
“No, it’s okay— you’ll warm up soon,” he promised.
“Yeah,” you agreed, “why are you so warm?”
Now he understood why the phrase ‘you make me hot’ meant that you were attracted to someone.  He nearly said it out loud, guess I’m just hot for you, but amazingly he caught himself.  Instead he only shrugged.
“I’m glad you came over,” you told him, and he could hear your voice getting a little more slurred— you were so tired, poor thing, you’d mentioned over the phone that you hadn’t really been sleeping.
“Can you really fall asleep like this?” he asked quietly.  Cause I sure can’t.
“No, I was just gonna get warm,” you admitted, “I’ll turn the other way when it’s time to sleep.”
Turn the other way… wait, she doesn’t mean—
Yeah, you did.  A few minutes later you flipped yourself around with a sleepy mumble of ‘g’night, Ed’ and made him into your unwilling big spoon.
Okay, not totally unwilling, but completely in over his head.  His problem wasn’t with the cuddling, it was with knowing it was all just supposed to be friendly, it was with wondering if you were coming onto him (unlikely) or just stupid (also unlikely), it was with trying not to get a horribly-timed but perfectly-warranted boner.
It was just these stupid sweatpants and your little white panties between him and your ass— he could feel the shape of it, even the warmth of your skin, through everything and he was going to lose his goddamn mind. 
You did move around in your sleep, like you warned him that you would, but you hadn’t warned him about those pretty sighs, the soft little hums, the way you’d stretch a bit and arch your back…
For the first hour, he just held you, and listened to you, and drank it all in.
You warmed up quick while he was holding you, you felt so nice to hold— he wanted to hold you tighter and pull you closer and kiss your cheek or your ear or your shoulder, but he couldn’t.  He almost wondered if he could, without waking you up, as he started to get sleepier himself and his logic began to slip.
He fell asleep in that way where he didn’t even realize he’d been asleep when he woke up, if you’d asked him he would’ve denied it— but you weren’t asking him, you were holding his arm close to your chest, pressing back against him, rubbing against him.
Oh god, he was hard, he was fucking throbbing, and you were breathing heavier as you grinded up on him.
When he opened his mouth, he fully intended on asking you what you were doing, or maybe apologizing for his boner, but then you arched your back harder, and he realized two things: one, you knew exactly what you were doing; and two, he didn’t need to apologize.  So, instead, he let a low groan fall from his lips, and you moaned a bit in reply.
He rocked his hips, pushing his cock right between where your panties were riding up and hugging your ass; you moaned again, still shaky but a bit more confident, and he wondered if maybe he was dreaming.  It wouldn’t be the first time he dreamt about this.
His hand was already on your chest, so he only had to move his hand down a bit to slip his fingers inside your tight t-shirt and feel your tits.  He groaned as soon as he felt how soft your skin was, how hard and excited your nipples were.  Your hips gyrated when he played with them, and feeling the control he had over you from such a simple action— just one slight curl of his finger and you gasped and arched your back deeper, your whole body under his command— made his cock twitch and weep inside his sweats.
When he took his hand out of your shirt and moved down to hold your hip tightly instead, you whimpered quietly.  “Eddie,” you moaned under your breath, instantly bringing him back to reality; this was actually happening.
Guilt twisted in his chest, but need still controlled his mind.  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked quickly.
“N-no!” you whimpered.  “I like it.”
He sighed and kept going with your blessing, securing his grip on your hips and letting his fingertips toy with the elastic holding up your panties.  When he thrusted again, a long drag of his cock against you that let you both feel every detail of each other, your head fell back and your neck was right there for the taking.
He leaned down and latched his lips onto it, kissing all along your pulse, and you moaned louder.  "You can fuck me if you want."
That should've been hot— and it sort of was, especially in your whispered voice— but it hurt his heart a little bit and he stopped kissing you.  "If I want?" he repeated, feeling you nod against his shoulder.  "What do you want, sweets?"
"I… I want you to," you answered.
"Baby," he whispered, feeling you shiver in his arms when he said it— in a different way than before.  "I— I know you're feeling vulnerable right now… I wouldn't wanna take advantage."
"You wouldn't be."
"You don't need to do this to make me stay."
"You don't need to do this to make me want you here," you replied.  "But I want you.  Please, Ed."
He hadn't been trying to make you beg, he almost felt guilty for it— making this poor girl plead with him for some affection when she's scared and alone.  But he was too busy feeling turned on like crazy to feel really guilty; because he never thought he'd hear you beg for him like that, and it was beautiful.  Sexy, yes, and erotic, but most of all beautiful.
Rolling you onto your back, he climbed up over you and felt your legs spread instantly— god, that was just too perfect.
In the dark, he still couldn’t see much, but there was just enough light to see your eyes blinking up at him.  It reminded him why he called you sweets as much as he could get away with it: because you were just so sweet, the sweetest eyes, the sweetest smile, the sweetest lips that he wanted to kiss until they were swollen and wet—
He grabbed your panties at the seam on your hip and snapped them in two; you gasped as he tossed them away, wiggling under him excitedly.  When he laid his body on top of yours now, he could feel your pussy through his pajamas.  Speaking of swollen and wet…
“Oh my god,” you breathed, reaching up to hold onto his bicep— Wesson, specifically.  “Eddie, you’re— fuck, get these off…”
Your free hand started tugging on the waistband of his pants, and just your fingers ghosting over his hip was enough to make him moan.  He grabbed where the gray fabric gathered, about to help you pull them down, until he remembered.  "Shit, I, uh," he choked, "I didn't bring any condoms."
Obviously.  Because what kind of creep brings condoms when his friend asks for help?  But now he was kicking himself wishing he'd had the foresight somehow.
"I could go back and—"
"No," you interrupted, clutching at his tank top.  "Don't leave, you don't need to wear one anyways."
Oh, dangerous territory.  Compulsory, cautionary health class videos flashing through his mind…
"I mean, you're clean, right?" you assumed.
"Yeah, I've never— well, I've never actually done it without protection before, so—"
"Me either," you explained, "and I'm on the pill— and I… I wanna feel you."
"That's… hot," he admitted with a tilted grin.  "Shit, really?"
You bit your lip as you nodded, and he growled playfully at you as he leaned in and kissed your neck.  You writhed beneath him happily, your plump little mound rubbing on him through his sweats— and he would give you anything you wanted after you did that.
"Y'wanna feel me, sweets?" he taunted lowly.  "Wanna feel my cock stretching you out?  We can do that.  Gonna fuck you raw."
You whined and arched your back.  "Please, Eddie— that's what I want."
"Shh," he soothed, reaching down to push the stretchy waistband over his hips to his thighs.  His cock sprang free and brushed on the inside of your leg for a moment, making you move your hips again— so he held them down with one hand.  "Baby, I'm gonna give it to you, okay?  Calm down."
"I just need you," you whispered, tugging on his shirt again.  "Eddie, I just need you inside me—"
He moved his head between your lips, groaning at how warm you were already— god, you must be like an oven inside.
When he found your opening, he didn't waste much time before pressing forward and sliding himself in.  It was a specific feeling— overwhelming, yet irresistible.  It was nearly too much for both of you and yet he had to keep going, had to fill more of you until his pelvis was grinding on your clit and the tip of his cock was reaching right to the end of you.
"Oh, fuck," he groaned the second he was buried inside— not just because it felt good, but because he knew instantly he couldn't go back now.  Feeling you bare, getting drenched by your sticky, hot walls… how was he supposed to be satisfied with anything else again?  Or maybe it wasn't the lack of a barrier that made it so good— maybe that was just you.
Either way, he didn't want to go back: to condoms, to other girls, to any of it.  He didn't want anything but this.
"Baby," he said again, holding you a little tighter.  "Is this how you want it?  Deep and slow?"
You whined quietly, clutching at his back.  "Y-you can go a little faster," you offered.
"Mm," he moaned as he rocked his hips more quickly, your heat gripping him so well he struggled to control himself.  "Like this?"
"Yes," you praised, "oh, Eddie, just like that— fuck me like that."
Christ.  You were gonna make him lose it too fast, talking like that and feeling so damn good.  You were like heaven inside— cozy and warm like a living room on a Christmas card.  Which, yes, he was well aware was a bizarre thing to compare a vagina to, but he wasn't gonna say it out loud or anything!  Babe, your pussy's like a Norman Rockwell painting might not even be Eddie's worst attempt at dirty talk in his life, to be honest.
"Ah, fuck," you panted, arching your back as he gave you a little more force with his thrusts.  "Did you ever… did you think about this?"
"Yeah," he admitted instantly.  "I mean, a few times.  It's hard not to…"
"Did you hope something would happen tonight?" you pressed, voice all wavery and breathless.
At best, he had hoped the way you hope you're gonna win the lottery or that a unicorn will appear in your yard.  "I didn't think about it like that," he assured, "I knew you were scared, I just—" he hissed as he struggled to focus on this conversation with everything he was feeling— "wanted to protect you."
Then the thought hit him, and he had to ask.
"Did you know something would happen tonight?" he returned.
"I told myself I wouldn't," you breathed, "but you… smell really nice."
Holy shit, I owe Wayne my life for getting me this cologne for my birthday last year.
"And you're so sweet," you added with a pant, "and honestly I've wanted you since—"
"Don't tell me," he interrupted, "I don't wanna know— unless you're about to say since you walked in the door, I'll drive myself crazy knowing I could've had you sooner, that we could've been doing this for months."
You sighed in agreement; it seemed like you were getting even wetter the longer he went on, and he groaned as he heard the beautifully filthy noise of his cock churning inside your walls— and it felt even better than it sounded.
"Feels so good," he blurted out, resting his forehead on the pillow just beside yours.  
"You too," you sighed.  "S'big, Eddie, and without anything I can feel how warm you are…"
"Warm, me?" he laughed thinly.  "Shit, you feel so hot inside I figured I felt like a popsicle to you."
You giggled, and god, what a beautiful sound.  Making you laugh was an honor enough— if he could make you come, too, he'd be king of the world.
In the spirit of that goal, he started fucking you a little faster, pressing in all the way with every thrust.
"Oh god, Eddie, so deep, you're so deep," you groaned.  "Fuck!”
He grinned proudly, reaching under you to move your hips— he lifted them just how he wanted them, forcing his cock even deeper inside you the next time he thrusted, and he got to grope your ass a bit so it was really a win-win.
He saw your eyes roll back and it just made him want to fuck you even harder.
“Tell me what you need,” he asked.  “Tell me how to help you, sweets.”
“I— I just need you to touch me,” you returned, your voice sounding a little hoarse. 
“Where?”
“Anywhere,” you choked, “everywhere… your hands feel good.”  He groped your tits first— easy choice— and heard you mewl happily.  “Fuck,” you breathed when he pinched a tender nipple, and he felt your walls bare down on him for a moment— so he did it again.
“You’re so sensitive,” he noticed proudly, beginning to drag his hand down over your abdomen as he watched the anticipation build on your face.  “How about your little button, s’it sensitive too?”
“Yeah, fuck,” you encouraged, moaning and dropping your head back onto the pillow as he gently pressed his thumb to your bud.  He’d barely started rubbing in circles before your moans got louder and higher-pitched; maybe it was a stupid comparison, but it reminded him of playing his beloved guitar— the other lady in his life.  He wanted to play your body like his instrument, he wanted to make music even more beautiful come out of you.
So he rubbed harder, and picked up his pace again— he had to flex his gut and keep it tight to try to stave off his own orgasm, his balls were already tightening up a bit as he got closer, but he knew he could hold off as long as it was to keep you satisfied.
“So good,” you praised, “it feels— fuck, I’m gonna—”
“I know,” he cooed.  “I know, you can come, sweets— I wanna feel you come around me.  Just tell me what you need.”
“Jus’ don’t stop,” you begged, “don’t stop, Eddie, just like— fuck!  Right there, oh my god—”
Is it just me, or is she liking this a lot more than the other girls did?  Did I get awesome at sex sometime in the last few weeks?
But really, he knew it was just that it was you and him together— it felt like you were made for each other, like he fit inside you perfectly.  He rubbed your clit even harder, technically disobeying your command of just like that, but it went over okay since you nearly screamed at the feeling.  "Eddie, I'm coming, I'm coming!" you kept saying, voice thin and strained, tightening up around him so hard he nearly struggled to pull back so he could keep up his pace.
"That's my girl," he praised, loving the way it felt to call you that— so he kept doing it.  "My girl, my girl," he chanted with each thrust into your flexing channel.  
“Oh god,” you sobbed, pushing his hand away from your clit; it must have become too sensitive right after coming.  Your hands reached up and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him down to lay more of his weight on you.  “Eddie, I— f-fuck, it’s so—”
“Shh,” he cooed, “it’s okay— it’s not too much is it?”
“Almost,” you whimpered, “b-but I don’t want you to stop.”
He fucked you faster, feeling you quiver under and around him; he wrapped you up in his arms tightly, keeping you still so he could slam everything into you at once, letting your somehow-even-tighter-now walls massage his throbbing cock.  "I-I don't know how much more of this I can take," he grunted, "you feel so—"
"I want you to come," you encouraged.
“Where?” he asked roughly, lips by your ear as he laid his head next to yours on the pillow.
You hesitated, and he could almost hear the gears in your head turning.  He knew you were considering it, and it made him groan just realizing that you wanted to let him fill you.
“You want it inside, baby?” he asked in a rough whisper, and you nodded with a quiet moan.
“Yeah,” you admitted, hands holding onto him tighter until he felt your nails bite his flushed skin.  “Yeah, fuck, that’s hot.”
He fucked you faster with a groan; his balls were starting to get sore from trying to hold back, but he didn’t want it to end yet— he couldn’t even be sure you would wanna do it again.  He couldn’t let this moment be over so soon—
“Eddie, I’m yours, make me yours,” you pleaded.  Nevermind, he could let this moment be over, because god damn hearing you talk like that didn’t leave him any other option but to come right fucking now.
"You're sure it's okay to come inside?" he breathed.  "I can pull out—"
"It's more than okay," you insisted, "Eddie, I want it so bad, please—"
"Don't say please," he instructed, "I was just checking— I'm gonna give you whatever you want, okay?  You want me to fill you with my come, I will.  You don't have to beg me for anything, it's all yours."
"Oh," you moaned, "say that again."
"All yours, it's all yours, sweets," he promised.  "Whatever you want from me.  Which, right now, is all this fuckin' come in your cute little pussy, right?"
"Yes," you sighed.
"I'll give you everything," he assured as he fucked you faster.  "Every drop, all this come is for you, baby."
“Oh god,” you hissed, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.
“You really mine, sweets?” he whispered— you wouldn’t be able to hear him over the slamming of his hips on yours if he wasn’t speaking right by your ear.
“Yeah,” you answered breathlessly.
“Promise,” he demanded.
“Yours,” you insisted, “m’yours, Eddie, had such a big, stupid crush on you—”
“Fuck!” he spat, digging his fingers into your soft thighs as the first ropes of come sprayed from his cock; it felt so different, knowing it wasn’t just filling a latex reservoir but filling you, your perfect body, your warm pussy—
You sighed out his name one more time, tightening your arms and legs around him, keeping him close and whimpering with each soft breath; you sounded so beautiful, he almost felt guilty for dirtying you this way, but it was worth it… and you seemed to be enjoying yourself too.
He let out a long, hot breath as he stilled, feeling the last few drops of his come dribble out and into you; “Shit,” he hissed, “that— fuck.”
You laughed quietly in agreement.  “Yeah.”
He started to try to pull out, but you whined and hugged him again.  “Don’t go yet,” you begged.
“Okay,” he relented, relaxing on top of you.  “Am I crushing you?”
“No,” you laughed, “you’re not that heavy.”
“Good,” he mumbled as he planted a quick kiss on your temple.  
You moved a little bit and he hissed, having to hold you still by your hips.  
“D-don’t,” he choked, “I’m still— it’s really sensitive…”
“Oh, really?” you grinned, clenching on him on purpose to make him grunt and laugh quietly.
“Fuck,” he warned, “you’re tryin’ to drive me crazy, huh?”
“A li’l bit,” you admitted mischievously.
“Can you… feel it?” he wondered.  “Like, without a condom, can you feel my, uh, come?”
You considered it for a second.  “Not really, m’all, like, numb right now,” you admitted with a little giggle.  “But I could feel your cock, like… moving.  Even when you weren’t moving.  I dunno if that makes sense…”
“No, it does,” he nodded.
“What did it… feel like for you?” you asked, sounding almost nervous and shy again.  How could you act shy after that?
“Uh, fuckin’ amazing,” he laughed.  “You’re incredible.  Did you really mean what you said?  About, um… being mine?”
He felt your breath catch, and he reached up to pet your head for a second, moving some stray hair out of  your face.  
“Listen, it’s okay if you were just caught up in the moment,” he offered.  “I understand.”
“Do you understand because you just wanna be friends after this?” you asked.  “Or do you understand because you’re super sweet and don’t want me to feel pressured to sleep with you again?”
“Um… guess it’s the second one,” he decided, face getting warm.  “I mean, I’m okay being friends after this.  I’m extra okay being friends with benefits.  But if I’m being honest, sweets, I wanna be your boyfriend.”
“Yeah?” you encouraged, the smile in your voice making his heart twist.
“Yeah,” he answered.
You held his face and kissed him— soft, gentle, sweet just like you.  He kissed you back, lifting his head and deepening it as much as he could get away with; you moaned against his lips, and it was so sexy he almost wondered if he could give you another load inside without even having to pull out—
But you broke away and looked up at him with heavy eyes, and he realized how tired you really were.  “We can talk in the morning,” he decided, “you just need to get some rest, okay?”
“Okay,” you agreed.  He carefully pulled out, trying not to overstimulate his softened cock, and laid behind you to be your big spoon again.  “This feels nice,” you hummed.  “I mean, m’kinda sticky and gross and all, but I feel safe.”
“Mm,” he agreed, fluttering his eyes shut— he was more tired than he realized, and the dark was already pulling him deeper as he held you.  “Me too, actually.”
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semiweirdshipper · 1 year
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Slashers' as fathers with a child/reader. (Comfort drabbles for anyone like me who has daddy issues).
Notes: 100% NON-ROMANTIC. Platonic love only. Non-binary reader. The reader is less than ten years old (you decide the age). Freddy is alive and NOT a pedophile.
I'm a little embarrassed that I made this but I can't deny that it does comfort me and make me feel better. If it makes you happy as well, then I'm glad. Thank you for reading. I hope you have a nice day.
...
Freddy
He was sleeping in his bed when he felt something nudge his arm, the soft callings of your voice quickly rousing him from his slumber. "Daddy? Daddy, please wake up."
Paternal instincts demanding that he instantly wake to check and see if you were okay, Freddy sat up and opened his eyes. Immediately the sight of you standing beside the bed in your pajamas with a sad, frightened look on your face greeted him, and he reached out to gently brush a hand through your messy hair.
"What's the matter, sweetie? Is everything okay?" He asked, gazing around for potential danger.
You whimpered, your little hands anxiously fiddling together as you say sadly, "I... I had a nightmare and I... I got scared."
Relaxing a bit, Freddy sat up all the way in bed and lifted his arms out towards you, "Oh sweetie, come here."
Stepping forward and lifting your arms, you whimper whenever your dad pulled you sideways onto his lap and held you close. He kissed the top of your head and gently patted your back. "Thought I told you not to be having those?" He mumbled.
"I know, but... It was so scary and I-I didn't like it," You whined, burying yourself into the divine safety of his chest, his scent familiar and comforting.
"Shh, shh," Freddy rubbed soothing circles against your back while hugging you securely against him, always prepared to fight all of your demons away- even if your demons were as simple as nightmares. "It's okay, sweetie. You're alright. Daddy's got ya. Everything's gonna be okay."
"Ok..." You whisper, still snuggled against him. He was so comforting and safe. "Daddy? I'm thirsty. Will you get me some juice, please?"
"You want juice?" Freddy tickled your nose causing you to giggle, "Hm?"
"And a story?" You smile at him hopefully.
"And a story? Well, aren't you spoiled," Freddy smiled back and leaned down to nuzzle your forehead, "Sure, sweetie, let's get you some juice."
Grinning at his compliance, you lean forward and give him a big hug. He hugs you back, and it feels so nice and comforting that you feel as if you could go to sleep right then and there.
Freddy holds your hand as he takes you to the kitchen to get you some juice. Then he grabs a book from a shelf and sits down in his arm chair with you sitting in his lap with your blanket and juice in clutch. He reads to you the short story as many times as you want until you've finished your beverage and declared that you were tired again.
"Can I sleep with you, daddy? Please," You ask, fidgeting in the hopes that you wouldn't have to sleep in the dark alone by yourself again tonight.
Freddy doesn't have the heart to tell you "no", so he nods and ruffles your hair, "As long as you promise not to have anymore nightmares. Promise?"
"I promise, daddy," You say happily, crawling into bed with him and immediately going to snuggle into his chest, "I love you."
Freddy kisses your head and tucks you both in with a blanket, one arm wrapping around you to hold you against him. Warm, safe, and comfortable. "Love you too, sweetie. Now get some sleep and, this time, have 'good' dreams."
Bo Sinclair + Uncle Vincent and Lester
"Hey Les, you seen (y/n) around?" Bo asked as he approached Lester's truck.
Lester gave him a look that he came to dread. "Yeah, they're on back with Vincent. Why?"
Relieved by your assured safety, Bo placed his hands on his hips and stared hard at the ground. Guilt chewed on him like a hungry wolf, and shame became a permanent dark cloud hanging all around him. "I-I messed up, Les," He admitted, shaking his head.
Lester raised his eyebrows in suspicion, "What'a ya mean?"
"Yesterday, I... I messed up," Bo huffed, dragging a rough hand through his hair, "An' now they ain't talkin' to me, and I... I just... Uh."
"Oh, so that's why the little critter wanted to spend the night," Lester chuckled and petted his dog's head fondly, "An' here I was hopin' I was the new favorite uncle. Guess I ain't, huh?"
Bo ignored him as he thought about what happened yesterday. He had been angry for reasons unrelated to you, and when you had tried to get his attention he snapped and yelled at you. Even though "what" was all he yelled, he could still tell how much he scared you and hurt your feelings. Now you wouldn't go around him. Gosh, he didn't mean to do it, he just... He was just an idiot.
Lester frowned at him as if noticing his distress, "Well hell, if it's botherin' ya to the pits then why don't ya go talk to them? You are their daddy after all, ain't ya?"
Yes. Yes he was your dad. And no child should ever have to be afraid of their dad.
Making his ultimate decision, Bo adjusted his hat and began stomping away, "Gotta go."
He found you in the house eating snacks with Vincent. When you noticed he was there, you looked at him and then quickly bowed your head like... like you were afraid of him. And it broke Bo's heart. Good grief, what had he done?
Pulsing with regret, guilt and shame, Bo slowly approached you and knelt down beside your chair, "Hey there, little critter bug. What'cha eating?"
You were hesitant, keeping your face averted as you timidly mumble, "Grapes."
"Ooh, yummy, can I have some?" He lifted his hands out, uncertain of where and when he should start explaining himself.
Sadness and uncertainty decorated your face as you lifted out the bowl to him. Vincent seemed to understand what his brother was doing, and he stood up to leave and give you some privacy.
As he ate some grapes, Bo was surprised to hear you quietly ask, "Daddy... Are... Are you still mad at me?"
"Oh..." He straightened his posture, set the bowl aside and reached out to gently grasp your shoulder, "Oh, (y/n), I was never mad at ya, I just... I was just havin' a bad day and I..."
Bo sighed, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently in reassurance, "Look, critter bug, I didn't mean to yell at ya, and I definitely ain't mad at ya. I just... Daddy made a mistake, and I'm so, so sorry, (y/n). I promise... I'll never yell at you again. I promise."
Your eyes glistened as you looked at him as if in debate. Bo's throat was dry as he waited for your reaction, the negativity and guilt nearly driving him insane.
Instead of saying anything, you spread your arms and lift them upwards. Bo sighed quietly in relief and went to scoop you into his arms, his aching chest slowly beginning to calm down. He still felt guilty for how he made you feel, and he wasn't lying when he promised that he would never ever make you feel that way again.
Michael + Aunt Laurie
You were both trick-or-treating and having a good evening on Halloween. Michael alternated between carrying you on his back, on his hip, or simply holding your hand while walking. It warmed his heart to see how happy and excited you were, your candy-bag becoming overloaded with sweet treats.
He decided to stop at Lauries for a quick break and some refreshment. You ran back out while he was still inside. It only felt like a minute before he followed your footsteps and soon came to a scene that made his blood boil and his eyes widen.
You were laying on your back against the sidewalk, small, frightened cries spilling from your lips. In the direction you were staring, Michael caught a glimpse of a group of teenagers quickly running away. They must have done something to you. But what?
"D-daddy," You cried as he quickly walked over to you, and you skittered to get to your feet.
Michael barely got to check you over for damage before you were wrapping your arms around his waist and crying into his belly. "They pushed me and stole my candy," You whined loudly against him, "I-I just wanted to be friends, b-b-but they stole my candy. Ehh, daddy, daddy, what do I do? They stole my candy."
Anger invaded every nerve within Michael's body as he held you close protectively. How dare anyone treat you this way. How could they? You were the nicest, sweetest little angel. What was their problem? Michael's eyes burned with the memory of those teenage scum and the direction they fled.
Hearing your loud sniffles, Michael gently coaxed you back and knelt down. Slipping off his mask, he reached out, cupped your cheek and used his jumpsuit sleeve to wipe away your tears and snot. Then he used sign-language to ask if you were okay.
You nodded and cried in great sadness, "But they stole my candy. Wh-why did they do that, daddy? I-I just wanted to be friends."
Michael quickly explained to you how those teenagers were obviously bullies. This same experience happened to him too when he was your age. Everything was going to be alright. They would get you more candy. Calm down. Everything was going to be alright.
Slowly you began to calm down, your sobs and whines diminishing. Michael pulled you into his arms and hauled you against his hip so that he could take you into the house. You stayed attached to him the whole time, and he refused to let you go. Frustration still burned inside him, and he was overwhelmed with the urge to protect and comfort you/his child.
Laurie was there to save the day, thankfully, offering you all of the candy she hadn't yet given out and putting on a fun movie for you to watch.
You were snuggled up against your dad on the couch, your mood significantly eased as he rubbed your head and back and offered you pieces of candy. For the most part you forgot about the incident, but Michael certainly hadn't.
Let's just say that, by tomorrow, you would have your stolen candy back.
Hannibal
He had taken a leave of absence from work so that he could better take care of you while you were sick. It wasn't anything serious; just a small cold. The nurse from your school had sent you home earlier due to a sore throat and a fever. Hannibal had rushed to get you as quickly as he could.
Once he got you home, he had you take a bath and get dressed into your pajamas. You complained of throat and stomach pain, and you had irritated sinuses. He gave you some medication and told you to lie down while he made you some special soup that would soothe your tummy.
As he was cooking, he heard your tiny footsteps echoing from the hallway, and he turned to see your sleepy figure approaching, "Daddy?"
"Yes, my child, what is it?" He asked, setting his cutting knife aside.
"My tummy hurts so bad," You pouted, your voice beginning to sound scratchy, "And I don't feel good. I wanna be with you."
Hannibal grabbed a kleenex from the counter and knelt down to gently clean your messy nose, "I know. And that is precisely why you should be sleeping."
"But I can't sleep," You whimper, looking at him with sad, tired owl eyes, "I wanna be with you. Please, daddy? Let me stay with you."
Hannibal tilted his head at you, his brows lifting in debate. While he would rather you be getting some decent rest, he knew that you were young and still filled with energy even whilst you were sick. He didn't have much left to do cooking wise either, so he figured that having you stay around wouldn't harm anything.
"Alright then," Hannibal leaned forward and picked you up, swiftly positioning you on his hip and supporting you with one arm so that he could use the other to cook with.
You held onto his neck while resting your head against his shoulder, your eyes mostly shut as you listened to the sound of his heart beat. Safety and warmth enveloped you making you feel much, much better than what you had before. Your dad was always so cozy and comforting.
Hannibal was able to finish cooking dinner with you on his hip the entire time. Once it was time to eat, he set you down on a chair and made you a drink and a bowl of soup. You ate quietly which worried him a little, but he knew it was just because you weren't feeling good.
"Feeling better?" He asked when you were finished.
You smiled and nodded at him, "Mhm, it was real yummy. Thank you, daddy."
"You're welcome, my child," He reached out and gently squeezed your cheek before taking your bowl and cleaning it, "I don't suppose telling you to get back in bed will do any good, will it?"
Your pitiful whimper was enough of an answer. Hannibal chuckled, dried his hands and went to pick you up again, holding you close as he carried you to the living room. "A movie it is then."
"Can Will come over?" You asked, grinning.
Hannibal gave you a look, "I'm beginning to believe that you're not sick at all."
...
All good fathers' should fight their child's nightmares away, not be the reason why they have them.
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teaboot · 2 months
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Thoughts on Lord of the rings??
Do you have any tips on protected sex between two afab
Lord of the Rings kicks ass, we need more deep and meaningful platonic friendships and healthy male characters in media that don't resort to romance or toxic masculinity to emulate affection and strength, the movies were groundbreaking and remain as incredible accomplishments and a love note to innovation and practical effects
2. For sex between parties with vaginas there are a few things:
If using toys, keep in mind that toy material can be affected by the kind of lube you use. Jelly toys are safe with water-based lube and NOTHING ELSE, or they will start dissolving, and they must not be stored touching other jellies or they will melt together. Jellies are also porous and cannot be used for anal, then vaginal penetration unless a condom is used and swapped- washing will never get all bacteria out. Once used anally, a jelly toy should ONLY be used for anal.
Silicone toys can ONLY be used with water-based lube or specialized hybrid lubes- again, silicone or oil lubes will cause them to dissolve and become porous, but they CAN be used interchangeably for anal and vaginal penitration providing you wash them before vaginal use. Silicone cal also be boiled clean and totally sterilized, whereas jelly cannot be boiled.
Glass and metal can be used with absolutely any lube you want, and can also be boiled clean.
For oral sex, keep in mind that oral diseases such as herpes can be passed on back and forth through genital contact- you can get genital herpes from oral herpes and vice-versa. If this is a concern, I recommend using a dental dam, or if that is not available then you can cut the tip off a condom and then cut it lengthwise to make one fast. Both condoms and dental dams come in flavored options, but with all contraceptives, lubes, and barriers you should check that glycerin is not a high ingredient, because that can throw off PH balance in a vagina.
If you experience any itching, burning, or discomfort when using lube, it is likely you have a sensitivity to the lube you use. Durex I know is especially popular for that. I recommend Water Slide or Fuck Water.
And on the topic of water-based lubes, you can add spit or water to rehydrate if it starts to dry out during, so don't worry about dropping a little cash for the good stuff.
And for fingering a partner, go with what's comfortable, but your hand won't cramp up as fast if you use ring finger-middle finger instead of middle-index.
Lastly, you can buy topical stimulants for clitoral or nipple stimulation- I happen to have a tingling peach flavour nipple balm that I use as a chapstick. Though always read the ingredients- cooling products usually use menthol, and warming products like cinnamon, both in very low amounts, but good to know if you have an allergy.
Oh, and lots of massage oils use almond oil as well, so again, allergies.
And it's perfectly normal to have a small vagina- if you choose to, you can purchase dilator sets for not too much cash, just take things slow- but it's not necessary, obviously. All bodies are good bodies and if your partner is a dick about it you deserve better.
Great question, by the way. Hope I could help!
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
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hey ! Loooove your x readers ! is there any chance I could request an alastor x fem reader who has nightmares ?? :o
Maybe she wakes up from nightmares repetitively, and one night just can’t stand laying awake staring at the ceiling of her room anymore , so she goes down to the lobby, and surprise, her crush alastor is sitting there reading in the semi-ish dark (with some jazz playing in the background on his staff ofc 🌚)
And maybe in his own twisted ways, comforts the reader (and maybe even reads her to sleep on the couch👀??)
Ugh, I gotta-
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: None, I think???
Description: ☝️⬆️
You awoke with a desperate cry, your body lurching forward in one last desperate attempt to escape your nightmare
You're frantically feeling yourself and the bedding around you, digging your nails into the blankets
It takes you a few moments to realize that you're safe in your bed and not stuck in your nightmare
There's tears in your eyes, and your entire body shakes as you try to reassure yourself that it was just a nightmare
Your past can't get you anymore
Your heart doesn't stop hammering in your chest no matter how hard you try to choke down your emotions
After laying in bed for awhile and failing to get back to sleep, you decide to get up and walk around the hotel
You're surprised when you get to the lobby to see someone else is awake and occupying the space
Less so surprised to see that it's Alastor awake, reading and listening to the radio in the dim light
He's totally relaxed, obviously enjoying his alone time-you don't want to intrude, you should head back to your room-
You barely make it another step before his eyes snap towards you from over his book, his relaxed smile turning into a coy grin
"Well well~ Couldn't sleep, my dear~?"
Even when you're reeling from your nightmares, his natural charm still makes you feel flustered, and your heart soaks up the attention
"Y-yeah...you could say that..."
Alastor seems to sense your unease and moves to make room on the couch next to him, a small cup of tea appearing in front of you
He doesn't comment on the blush on your face as you sit down next to him, feeling a small comfort in his warmth even with the space between you two
You're lost in thought, your nightmares replaying in your mind and making you tense when you suddenly hear Alastor speak
"A nightmare, was it? I wonder what about..."
You can't help but snap your head towards him, shocked that he read you so easily, you hadn't realized it was so obvious
"How did you know I had a nightmare?"
He hums playfully and looks at you with a knowing smile, obviously proud of himself
"Just a guess, but thank you for confirming it for me."
You can't help but roll your eyes and let out a less than ladylike snort, momentarily feeling better
He doesn't push for details and you don't give him anything more than that, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence
At some point, his arm ends up behind you, claws gently scratching the back of your neck in a way that has your entire body tingling deliciously
You don't know when your eyes close or how you end up curled against him, but you're too tired to feel embarrassed about it
You start to feel yourself falling back asleep and right back into your nightmare, forcing yourself to stay awake
Of course, you would go right back to that terror...why should you get any proper sleep?
Alastor immediately senses that you're fully awake again, able to hear your heart beating rapidly in fear, see the way you fight back tears
If he could frown then he would, why should you be afraid of anything when he's here to protect you?
Just when you go to push off him, Alastor pulls your head back to his shoulder. Not taking his eyes off of his book to save you both some dignity
You reluctantly wrap your arms around him, you tell yourself it's just because it's more comfortable that way, not because it's nice to cuddle him
He's reading to you, the sound of his voice, along with the close proximity to him making your head spin
How are you supposed to hide your feelings for him when he does stuff like this?
Luckily, your face is buried in his shoulder, so the only giveaway for your blushing would be the heat radiating from your face
You're not really even paying attention to what he's reading, slowly relaxing against him as your eyes flutter shut and you breathe in his scent
As you fall asleep, you miss the way Alastor's smile softens when he looks down at you, closing his book suddenly and resting his chin on your head
He has something much better to do with his time
He stays with you the rest of the night, soothing you while you sleep whenever you happen to whimper, cry, shake, or even frown
His hands gently stroke your cheek as he squeezes you in reassurance, doing his best not to wake you
"Hush now, my dear... You're in good hands, I won't let anything harm you."
Apparently, it works because you relax and sigh in relief each time, no longer trembling and mumbling to yourself
Part of him feels pity for you, having suffered so much that you can't even find peace in your dreams
Another part of him enjoys that he gets to be there for you right now, hoping that this will become something regular
The thought surprises him, but he likes it
You're still asleep by the time the others start waking up, Alastor pretending to be reading his book again
He shakes his head when Vaggie and Charlie move to take you to your room, worried about you waking up next to Alastor or unintentionally irritating him
They're baffled when Alastor simply puts a finger to his lips and holds you a little closer to him, using his staff to push them back
"She's had a rough night, it would do us well to let her sleep a little longer."
Nobody says anything but they all share glances that show they're thinking the same thing
W T F happened between you two last night
You're embarrassed when you wake up later, nearly falling off the couch in your haste to get away from Alastor
"Ah, you're finally awake~!"
You can feel how hot your cheeks are as you apologize to him over and over again, you're so mortified you could die
You don't let him get a word in as you back away from him, slowly walking backwards to the stairs
You've got one foot on the stairs before you suddenly hear Alastor's voice from behind you
"Do come find me again if those pesky nightmares persist, won't you?"
You look back at him in surprise, his gaze serious despite the teasing tone, you're too embarrassed to do anything more than nod
He watches you scramble up to your room with an amused expression, not wanting to admit to himself that he enjoyed being of use to you
Alastor hopes you have another nightmare soon, if only just so he can play the hero for you again
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HERE MY LOVE
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klemen-tine · 4 months
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White Whale Part 2
Platonic! Yandere Batfam x Deaf!Male Reader
A continuation of this one.
https://www.tumblr.com/klemen-tine/736839222321922048/white-whale
Thoughts
Sign/Morse Code
Speaking
Trigger Warnings: Disability Discrimination and a mention of suicidal thoughts. Its like on sentence.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Y/N sat near the window, his processors off and a book on his lap. His attention was drawn to the snow falling outside and covering the ground in white, watching Damian walk Titus around the yard to experience the frozen water. Not like the giant dog hasn’t walked in snow before. 
He pressed his forehead against the glass, feeling the freezing melted sand press against his skin and without a doubt making it red. His tan was slowly fading, which made him all the more depressed whenever he looked in the mirror, now resulting in him wearing long sleeves in the hopes that he wouldn’t have to see it fade faster. His finger running down the spine of his book over and over again, tracing over the embroidered words and his short fingernail picked at the strings. 
Y/N pulled away from the window, before Damian could see him, and he set To Kill a Mockingbird down on the lamp table beside the small nook near the window. It was his secret little stowaway, one Y/N knows that if they wanted to, his family could find it easily. There is nowhere in this manor that is unable to be discovered by them. He thinks Alfred is helping in keeping this spot a secret. Assuring the bat family that Y/N is safe and there is no need to tear apart the library to look for him. 
All the windows in the library are sealed besides three, and those have sensors on them. Even if they didn’t, Y/N wasn’t stupid. He knows that those trackers he had dug out from his body are back in him. There is one in his inner thigh, deep enough that if he were to take the same scalpel he used the first time, the chance of nicking his artery was a higher possibility than he felt was worth risking. 
Sometimes, when he presses down on the soft skin, he could feel the cold metal sear his muscles and capillaries, reminding him of his captivity without the chains. 
Y/N connected his external processors, and winced when the world began to make noise. There was the buzz of some lightbulbs the hummed in the air and the heater was making a thrumming noise. Before his ‘trip’ to the Dominican Republic, Y/N would have thought that this was quiet. He would have believed that this was almost silent and there was little chance of it becoming any more quiet. 
Now it was just loud. Obnoxiously so. 
Looking out the window once more, Y/N couldn’t help the turn of his eyebrows and the downturn in his lips. Even his safe place felt like a cage. 
Walking out of the room, he zigzagged through the bookshelves and into the main room, where the large couches, the fireplace, and coffee table are. The fire was crackling and popping, the bright oranges, reds, and yellows casting a warm glow on the sofas. 
“I was wondering when you’d come out.” Y/N didn’t even look at Tim, his gaze still on the flames and the burning embers of the fire. It matched  the heat that was beginning to burn in his chest whenever he was around any of them. It’s embarrassing, but it took Y/N a few days to realize what exactly it was he was feeling towards them. 
Anger. Y/N was so, undeniably, pissed at all of them. It got to the point that he wouldn’t even eat with them. Alfred, the kind man he is, would bring his meals to his room and Y/N would eat there. Dick once tried to drag Y/N out of his room, but he got a solid kick to his leg and Y/N’s enraged voice screeching at him to get the hell out of his room. 
Even Jason was receiving the cold shoulder. When he tried to read to Y/N, taking their usual spot and position, Y/N just scrunched his nose and moved. Ignoring his twin’s call and slamming his door hard and  loud enough that it made his processors ring. 
Tim sighed, watching his brother stew and brew like a shaken pepsi bottle, ready to erupt with words that will stick to the skin. Y/N didn’t acknowledge him, his jaw clenching and nose scrunching, before he turned away and left the library. Tim stood up and followed him, jamming his foot in between the door and the door frame to stop Y/N from shutting him out. 
“Go. Away.” Tim pushed into the door, and even though he and Y/N are about the same size, Tim is Red Robin. A vigilante used to put down villains twice his size and three times his weight. Y/N is just… Y/N. He muscled through, inviting himself within Y/N’s room which he took a scan of. 
The window was closed, the bed was made, the desk clean, and the laptop locked. When he had gotten back, his laptop had been installed with monitoring software, allowing everyone access from the Batcomputer to see what Y/N was doing. His phone had been given the same thing, only the child settings were enabled. His bags, duffle, suitcases, backpacks, all of them had been taken and if he ever needed them then he would need to go to Bruce. 
If Y/N had anything to say, he didn’t share it. When it was all explained to Y/N, he wasn’t even looking at them, or Bruce, and instead was staring out the window. Damian believed that the other didn't even listen to them, but the lack of questions proved he had heard them. 
“We really need to talk, Y/N.” 
“No, go away. I don’t want you in my room.” Tim sighed, watching Y/N seethe in front of him. He held firm, “I will leave, once we talk.” Y/N rolled his eyes, “About what? There is nothing to talk about.” Those raging E/C eyes followed Tim’s every move in his space, and if it were any other time, Tim would have been thrilled to have Y/N’s attention on him. Those eyes focused only on him. 
Tim sat on the chair in front of Y/N’s desk, ignoring Y/N’s scandalized expression and instead taking in the desk. All of Y/N’s writing tools, journals, pens, and markers have been confiscated. Instead, he only had the iPad to write down his thoughts and notes for when school starts. An iPad that is monitored. 
Y/N seemed to accept that Tim would not be leaving, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Scrunching his nose, he disconnected the processors, pulled them off of his head, and debated about chucking them at his brother. He tossed them on his bed. He saw Tim deflate from the corner of his vision, and when those E/C eyes filled with irritation and smugness met Tim’s blue eyes, Y/N couldn’t help the vindictive smirk that formed on his face. 
‘Bruce wants you to keep those on.’
“What do you want, Tim? If you have nothing good to say then get out, I want to nap.” Tim nodded, adjusting himself so he had space to sign. 
‘How long are you going to keep pouting?’ Y/N’s face scrunched and he stared at Tim in disbelief. Not in disbelief that he said that, but disbelief in that that was what he wanted to say at this point in time. He could feel a headache forming and the rage building in his chest to the back of his throat. The words scorching the sensitive skin and making him feel as if he was about to catch fire. 
“I tell you to have something ‘good’ to say, and that’s what comes out of your mouth? Get out, Tim.” His brother stayed in the chair, and Y/N marched over and grabbed the collar of Tim’s shirt. Which, if he had a clearer mind, Y/N would have not done that. It only allowed for Tim to grab his wrist and maneuver them so that it was Y/N who was pinned. 
Icy blue eyes stared into boiling E/C eyes. Tim sighed, releasing Y/N so he can sign, ‘It is getting out of control, Y/N. I can understand a month, but you are pushing three.’ 
“You can’t tell me how to feel or how long I can feel it.” Tim looked ready to throttle him, and Y/N hoped that Tim rolled his eyes enough that they got stuck like that. 
‘Y/N, just what was so important about that shack that is keeping you acting like this?’ Y/N pushed Tim, startling his younger brother and if he was calmer, Y/N would also be startled. He’s never been a violent person, choosing to look away when things got bloody in a movie or show. However, the spike of rage and aggravation he felt towards Tim and the situation had made his body move before he could really process it.  
He glared at Tim with a new rage, and now he had wished he had thrown those external processors as the so-called genius. He balled his fist, “It wasn’t the shack! It wasn’t the ocean, it wasn’t the country, for fucks sake Tim, it wasn’t even then whales!” Y/N reached across his desk and threw a copy of Alice in Wonderland at the other. 
He ignored the annoyance when Tim caught it. 
“It wasn’t any of that! It was what you all took away! It wasn’t the sun, it wasn’t the outside, it was the ability to make my own decisions!” Tears burned Y/N’s eyes and he wondered just how many nights he spent crying and wishing for a chance to escape. 
“Why… why am I the only one who doesn’t have any say in how I want to live me life?” Tim set the book down on Y/N’s bed, and walked closer. Y/N stepped away, “Why am I the one who is held here like some kind of… prisoner when everyone else can go and–and do what they want?” 
Tim’s heart broke, ‘No, no Y/N. You’re not a prisoner, we just want you safe and the safest place is here.’ Y/N gave him a look of exhaustion and disappointment, “What else is this then? Where else are people monitored to this extent?” Prison. Hell, Arkham doesn’t even have this level of monitoring and Gotham’ worst and craziest people were there. 
Y/N knows that all of this is done out of some sick and twisted form of love, but if this was love then Y/N wanted no part of it. 
“Y/N,” Tim winced. He didn’t feel bad about what they have done for Y/N, but he did feel bad that it was somewhat affecting Y/N like this. It wasn’t their intention for Y/N to feel trapped, but Y/N just doesn’t get it. The world is mean, cruel, and horrible to those who don’t fit in. Tim, Jason, Dick, Damian, Bruce, the entire Bat clan knows this because they are the ones out there and witnessing this. 
They all know just how awful this world can be, so why would they not want to protect Y/N from it? 
“Dinner is ready.” Tim’s attention snapped to the door, where Damian stood. Y/N’s attention also turned to Damian, and the boy softened under Y/N’s hurt gaze. 
‘Alfred made your favorite.’ Y/N wanted to bury his head in his hands. He didn’t want to read this conversation anymore. Pursing his lips, Y/N plopped down on the edge of his bed and looked out the barred window. 
“You say I am not a prisoner… then am I a pet?” He mumbled, his voice barely above a murmur. Damian moved further in the room, so Y/N can see his hands at least. 
‘Of course not. You are our most prized person.’ Damian didn’t see Y/N as a person. It is cruel to admit and he had almost been choked-out by Jason when he said it out loud. Y/N, in Damian’ eyes, was the Wayne’s family most prized possession. Next to the Batcave, the library, the Barmobile, and even Wayne Enterprises, Y/N stood next to and in front of it all. They could not function without him. 
Like every prized possession, like diamonds, sapphires, and jades, they wanted to protect him. They gave him the best care they could and the best security. The difference was that jewels don’t have opinions or a desire to roam the earth. Something Y/N did have, and Damian blames the books for that wanderlust. Specifically that Moby Dick book. 
When Jason took it from Y/N, Damian had to stop himself from throwing it in the fire. It was a first edition, the cover and binding still the same from when the book was first published, and if he looked closely he could see the faint line where Y/N has traced the spine of the book numerous times. Damian knows there is only one person in this world Y/N hates, which is the Joker, and Damian does not want to be added to the list should anything happen to that book. 
Still, it was tempting. 
Damian has read the book, and the lesson was as obvious as an East Gothamite amidst the upper echelon of Gotham. Damian knows what Y/N’s ‘white whale’ is, and he can’t help but to wonder why Y/N can’t draw the same conclusions like everyone else did. 
Just like the story, Y/N will drive himself crazy trying to obtain something that they will never allow. Diamonds, sapphires, and jades are always protected by glass cases and security systems. That is how Y/N should see this. 
‘Your safety is the most important thing.’ 
“More than my happiness?” Damian and Tim stared at Y/N with the answer clear in their eyes, but Y/N wanted to see them say it. He wanted to see them admit that they did not care for his happiness as long as he was trapped within these thick walls and gilded windows. 
‘You were happy before.’ Y/N sighed, “That is because it was an illusion.” E/C eyes, dull and lacking emotion, “Tell me Dami, how can I go back to that illusion when in the morning it is the sun’s reflections off the bars on the windows that wake me up? Or the feeling of those trackers in my body replacing the collar you all want to put around my neck?” 
++++
Bruce stared at the photo, taking in the smiles and the way those eyes used to shine. Y/N always had a great smile, full of his emotions and rarely ever fake. His eyes always the most expressive, and it is why Bruce found it easy to see when he was lying. 
Granted, in Y/N’s defense, he’s never had a real reason to lie before. He was open with everyone about his thoughts, opinions, and desires. Bruce made it that way. Bruce swaddled him in the comfort that only he and the family could provide in order to make it so Y/N would always rely on them for that. He made it so Y/N would never have to lie, or feel the need too. 
Then Y/N just had to get curious. Bruce doesn’t know who is to blame for this sudden defiance in Y/N, but he does put a lot of blame on those ocean documentaries. Even when he was young, Y/N always had a fascination for them. Watching them over and over again, reading the subtitles, memorizing them, so now he can just watch the documentaries while already knowing what is going on. 
His attention turned to the photo he had bought from that photographer in the Dominican Republic. Y/N was freediving and looking like he was in his element. 
Bruce didn’t feel bad for taking Y/N back, but he did feel bad about cutting a hobby short. There was denying that Y/N was a natural at this sport, and Bruce had always wanted to encourage each of his kids’ interest. 
But not this one. Not one that meant Y/N had to live far from them and was dangerous. At least with vigilantism, Batman was there in case anything turned south. There was no one in the water for Y/N in case something happened. Free diving is dangerous, and the ocean is unpredictable. Bruce can’t help Y/N if he goes free diving, especially if he goes alone. 
Sighing, Bruce rubbed his forehead and checked the surveillance cameras one more time. Y/N and Dick were in one of the study rooms. From what it looks like, Dick is trying to talk to Y/N who was standing next to the windows, looking away from the other. 
Perhaps, it’s about time Bruce steps in. Y/N hasn’t talked to him since the day Bruce grounded him, about two months ago and the other has done a great job in staying out of Bruce’s radar. The only time Bruce has seen Y/N in person is when he goes into Y/N's room at night after patrol to make sure that he is still there. A new fear unlocked that one night, when everyone is out and Alfred is asleep, Y/N will disappear once more. 
No one knows how Y/N got out that one night, and no matter how many questions were asked, Y/N never said anything. Damian had tried bargaining with him, telling him that if Y/N told them how he got out then some days of his grounding would be taken off. Y/N huffed, a bitter smile taking over his face. 
Bruce rose from his desk, shutting down his computer and leaving his own study. It is about time he and his son have a conversation. One sided or not. 
He walked over to the study room that Dick and Y/N were in. Halting before the door and listening to the voices coming from inside. 
“Y/N, I am telling you that no one is going to believe you after the stunt you pulled.” 
“But you will be with me. Dick, I just want to go to the beach. We did it all the time.”  
“Mmm, and look how that ended up.” 
“Me being happy for a few months.” 
“You’re still on that, Y/N?” Bruce opened the heavy doors, silencing the conversation and causing two sets of eyes to land on him. Dick was leaning against the desk, and Y/N had his back to the window. Both of their faces showed their surprise and confusion, until E/C eyes flickered to the ceiling and the corners of the room where he saw the cameras. Confusion became annoyance, rolling his eyes and turning back towards the window. 
Dick and Bruce made eye contact, and when Bruce nodded his head towards the door Dick didn’t fight it. He took the hint and walked out, sparing Y/N and Bruce one last look before shutting the large oak doors. 
Y/N refused to look at him. Bruce walked closer, behind the desk and next to Y/N, standing next to the window. 
“Y/N.” His son moved to pull out his external processors, but Bruce grabbed his wrists within his large hands, effectively stopping his son. Bruce set his jaw, “None of that, we need to talk.” 
“I don’t want to talk to you.” 
“Then listen.” Y/N scrunched his nose and furrowed his brows, glaring at Bruce. The older man sighed, but held his grip on those thin wrists, noting that Y/N had stopped tugging his arms and was in fact waiting for Bruce to start talking, “I understand that you are upset, and that you are upset at us for meddling.” Y/N raised an eyebrow, his face slowly smoothening out and his lips no longer in a pout. 
Bruce sighed, releasing one of Y/N’s wrists to push aside his bangs. Gently brushing his son’s forehead and pushing the rest of the strand behind his ear, minding the processing unit resting behind Y/N’s ear. 
“And I know you’re aware that if you had asked, we would have said no.” Y/N’s lips pouted once more and his eyes became a little downcast. Sadness blanketing over him and Bruce felt a bit bad for revealing that, but Y/N knows it already. 
“Y/N, why are you insistent on wanting to be independent? There are millions of people in this world who still wish for their parent’s support, and thousands of people who would give up everything to have a life and opportunities that you have.” Y/N scrunched his nose, feeling guilt curl in his chest. 
He knows that he is lucky. Y/N is aware of how fortunate he is to have all that he has and then some. He knows that there are people in this world who would kill to have what he has. 
Yet, just like there are millions of people who want what he has, there are also millions of people who strive for their independence against their family. Millions of people who take pleasure in making choices that affect only them. Millions of people who don’t let their disabilities define their life, and learn to accept and live with them. 
“I am aware that I am fortunate, that my deafness has only been a part of my life instead of completely defining it,” Y/N acknowledged, turning his attention back to outside where it was beginning to snow. He ignored his reflection, not wanting to look at the weak person in front of him. 
“I am grateful for all you have done, along with Alfred and everyone else. No amount of ‘thank you’s’ will ever be enough. But Bruce–” Y/N turned his eyes once more to Bruce, E/C eyes meeting ocean blue, “– No amount of money or gadgets is going to deny the fact that I am deaf. 
“I am reliant on you all for a lot of things, and you raised me that way so that I can forever depend on you. Which… I know it wouldn't bother some people but it bothers me.” Y/N’s eyes shined with unshed tears, as if the very thought of having to rely on them was shameful. 
“I am not fragile, nor am I glass. I am from East Gotham, just like Jason.” Bruce is aware of that. Like every East Gothamite, the both of them had the stubbornness that made Bruce question if he had a lineage that tied him back to that part of town. Y/N is strong in his own ways, and stubborn in others. Bruce will agree on that. He will agree that Jason and Y/N are more like brothers than those Bruce has seen when blood related. 
However, Jason and Y/N are not the same. They were different pieces cut from the same cloth. Jason was shaped and molded to withstand the toughest and dangerous situations, to be durable and take a beating. 
Y/N was not molded like that. Y/N was refined and polished to be treated gently and kindly, to only know the kindest hands and gentlest of uses. 
“And I know that compared to the rest of you, I am weaker. I… I am not strong like you or Jason, I am not fast like Damian, nor am I as smart as Tim, or charismatic like Dick.” Bruce’s grip tightened on the one wrist he was still holding, wanting to deny everything Y/N had said because he hated hearing Y/N self-deprecating himself like that. Y/N is kinder than any of them, easier to talk to, and has almost the same amount of medical knowledge that Alfred has. 
Y/N is the normalcy they all crave for when they come back from a patrol or mission. He reminds them in the gentlest ways that they are human. They are not just vigilantes, not another person hiding behind a cowl, a cape, or a domino mask. He reminds them that they are brothers, friends, allies, a father (in Bruce’s case). 
“But just because of that, do you really have to control every part of my life? I wish you had more faith in me to let me go and learn to be strong on my own, just like you do with everyone else.” Y/N stared up at Bruce with a hurt expression, E/C eyes staring into Bruce’s blue eyes through those lashes that normally would be able to grant Y/N anything he wished. A simple bat of those lashes and eyes would have everyone running around trying to do as he wished. 
“Y/N–” 
“If you can’t trust me, at least trust yourself that you taught me well enough to be by myself.” But the thing is, is that Bruce doesn’t trust himself. He’s failed so many times and he fears that this one failure will be the one that breaks him. It’ll break the boys, the girls, Alfred, him. It’ll break everyone. 
Y/N doesn’t realize it, and Bruce wonders if it is because he doesn’t want to get it or he just doesn’t. He wonders if Y/N chooses not to see his importance in this family so the burden doesn’t feel as heavy. If anything should happen to Y/N, Bruce can’t guarantee the safety of Gotham anymore. He couldn’t guarantee the safety of his Robins, past and current. If Bruce couldn’t protect literally the easiest person to protect, then who was he to try and protect a city? 
Y/N, sensing Bruce’s hesitation and unease, tried to withdraw his hand from Bruce’s grip and shrug off the hand that was resting on his cheek. His hopes and wants crashing onto the carpeted floor, replacing his chest with anger and disappointment. He's been feeling those two emotions a lot lately. They are carving its way in his chest like it is their new home, and he wonders if it will be. Will he hold onto these feelings for the rest of his life as he stares out these large windows and reminisces what the sun felt like on his skin and the breeze through his hair. Does the biting cold still turn his nose and cheeks red, and does the heat and humid summers still make his freckles pop and skin gleam?
“...Forget it. I… it was stupid to ask that of you.” The raging inferno of anger died, filling his chest with the smoke of its fury and his stomach warm with the dying embers. A new emotion, one he is intimately familiar with, filled him instead. It is one he knows like the back of his hand, an emotion that is more of his identity than his deafness. 
Sadness. 
It is like a steady stream, filling the smoking cavity in his chest with cold water, putting out the embers and making that smoke turn to steam. Burning his muscles and organs with a painful sting, and filling his person with ice cold water instead of the burning fire. Y/N knows sadness. He knows the emotion well and sometimes it reminds him of a scar. Never truly gone, just sometimes forgotten. It sits at the back of the mind, hiding behind the good times, the happy emotions, until it is accidentally hit and it draws your attention. From there, it is no longer at the back of your mind, but all you can think about. 
Sadness, to Y/N, is like a scar that has marred its way across his face. Never forgotten and for the whole world to see, unless makeup and a smile is put on it. 
Y/N, in the basicness of emotions, is sad. He is hurt, upset, exhausted, and sad. 
“Leave me alone, Bruce.” Bruce’s grip tightened once more, and his jaw clenched. He’s finally got Y/N within his vicinity to talk, like hell he’s letting go. Y/N narrowed his eyes and pulled his arm, “Let go, Bruce.” 
He pulled again, “Bruce.” The man’s iron grip never waivered, and Y/N felt the air in his lungs begin to escape quicker than it could fill the organs. He brought his other hand up to try and peel those thick fingers off his wrist, but Bruce grabbed his other hand. 
“I still don’t understand why you would want to leave.” Y/N scrunched his nose, “If you can’t understand, even after I spelled it out for you, then maybe you should stop being a detective.” Bruce didn’t feel insulted or slighted at Y/N’s words, chalking it up to Y/N being upset still. 
“How can I make you want to stay here?” Y/N sighed, and Bruce could feel that fight leaving his son’s body. The tension in his arms disappeared. 
“How can I know that it is here that I am meant to be, when I haven’t been anywhere else?” Bruce opened his mouth, to which Y/N effectively cut him off, “East Gotham doesn’t count, and the Dominican Republic would have counted if you all hadn’t kidnapped me.” 
“We didn’t kidnap you.” Y/N gawked at him, and the fight returned, “You did kidnap me! Do you need a dictionary definition of what kidnapping is?! It is the unlawful abduction, aspiration and confinement of a person against their will!” 
“You. Live. Here.” Bruce gritted out and Y/N’s jaw clenched, “Well I don’t WANT to be here!” He snarled and tried once more to loosen Bruce’s grip on his wrists. 
“What is it with all of you NOT comprehending that?! No matter how you look at it, no matter what angle you try to take this from, Bruce. I am a prisoner within this manor!” Y/N glared at Bruce, “Just what did I do that warranted the surveilance, the trackers, the stupid god for fucking sake imaginary collar you all want me to have on?!” 
Bruce growled out, “You left when you are only meant to stay here. It is the consequences of your actions.” 
“I am not your property!” Y/N snarled, “ Nor am I a pet that you can keep chained and trapped in the house!” Bruce felt something snap within him and he released Y/N’s wrist and watched the other stumble from the sudden loss of support. 
Y/N righted himself, still glaring at the man. Bruce took a deep breath, “Fine.” 
“Huh?” 
“You want to try your luck out there, then go. I will give you an hour's head start.” Y/N stared at Bruce in suspicion, “What are you getting at?” Bruce made a show of adjusting his watch, “I will give you an hour, only one. If you can outrun us, out maneuver us, or outsmart us until sunrise, you can choose how your future plays out.” 
“‘Us?’” Bruce smiled, “All of us.” Y/N wanted to bite out a ‘not fair’ comment, but found a more pressing matter, “What about the trackers?” Bruce fished out his phone, and made a dramatic show of pressing some buttons, he then showed Y/N what appeared to be a small map, like a GPS, on his phone. 
“Turned off.” Y/N ignored the feeling of disgust seeing that his location was literally on their phones. 
“Start running Y/N, your hour has already started.” Y/N bolted out the study room, not looking back. 
Bruce stayed in the room, looking out the window as the sun began to set and the snow turned dark. Light footsteps entered the room, and Bruce could basically hear the eyebrow raise, “Not now Alfred, save it for when Y/N comes back.” 
The old butler humphed, “He’s always gotten sick when playing in the snow.” Bruce hummed, “Then I guess we better make this quick.” 
“Are you sure an hour was a good idea? He did sneak out of the manor before.” Ocean blue eyes filled with mirth, and he tapped his ears, “If Y/N wants to know what it’s like to be deaf, then he’ll play this game deaf. It’ll teach him how lucky he is to have his hearing.” Alfred’s eyes widened, “They turn off without his knowledge.” 
“Once he reaches a certain distance, they do, and he can’t turn them back on. Only I have the power to do that.” 
In the hall, suited up and waiting in the shadows, were the rest of this crooked family. Waiting for his orders, “Give him an hour, then find him.”
++++
Y/N knows this is a losing game. He knows that this game is set for his failure, and he knows that once this game is over, he will most likely never be able to set foot outside again. Not without a babysitter. 
When he external processors cut out, he knows what angle Bruce is playing out and he knows that his chances of making it to sunrise have become nearly 0%. He may not be as smart as Tim or anyone else in his family, but if you live with geniuses you learn how to read between the lines. 
He somehow managed to flag down a taxi before telling them where to go. Not missing the slight judgment cross their face and Y/N wonders if they know he cannot hear them. Y/N wonders if they know he is being chased and he essentially is just digging a bigger and deeper hole for himself. The bars will get thicker and the chain will be heavier, but if that is the outcome of this, then Y/N believes that this will be worth it. 
He clutched the bag closer. 
When he arrives at the station, he knows his hour is up and he knows that Barbara is watching him through the cameras. She is watching him buy his ticket, and is retelling everything to his siblings. He knows this because in front of him is Nightwing, drawing a crowd and making everyone look around for the villain. 
‘Going somewhere?’ 
‘Only temporarily.’ 
‘Temporarily is too long Y/N, let's go back home. Alfred has a peach cobbler ready.’ Nightwing held his hand out as if Y/N would actually take it. Which is fine, because Y/N knows through the giant circular mirror hanging from the ceiling, that Spoiler and Red Robin are behind him. 
Y/N stared at the hand once more, and he wondered if this is what it feels like to know the path you should take and still choose the other one. Taking a deep breath, Y/N said the one word that would get everyone running. It would have people scrambling and trying to seek cover and get out of a place that made everyone have a close vicinity to each other. 
“Joker!” Like someone shouting fire, the world was set into motion and Y/N watched as his view got obstructed by the rush of people. He disappeared within the crowds, dodging idle hands and ducking into the crowd. He may not be able to hear, but he can feel the panic that everyone else was feeling. Y/N saw parents pick their kids up, lovers grabbing each other’s hands, and strangers pushing and shoving other strangers. 
He rushed down the escalator, towards the Amtrak that had his destination written all over it. Y/N didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Nightwing right behind him. He can feel the heavy and frantic gaze and if he could hear, without a doubt his name would be filling the air. 
His heart picked up at the sight of the doors closing, and through some luck, he squeezed in at the last minute. The metal shutting behind him, and large latex covered hands slammed into the glass. Dick’s frantic face stared at him, and Y/N couldn’t stop the smile from creeping on his face. 
How it must feel for the rabbit to slip through the Hunter’s fingers. 
When the train began moving, Y/N wiggled his fingers in a mockery of a goodbye. He now sees why Jason loves teasing Dick. Dick’s angry expression really does tickle a sore spot in Y/N. Choosing a spot near the windows, Y/N prepared himself for the 10 hours train ride. The sun will not be rising when he gets there, but he never expected to make it to sunrise. Peering into the duffle bag next to him, Y/N gave a bitter smile and turned his attention back to the passing sight of Gotham city. 
In the Batcave, everyone was pacing and figuring out the best way to do this. 
“Are you sure that is where he is going?” 
“For the last time, I saw his ticket, yes. He is going there!” Jason winced at Barbara’s raised voice and he grit his teeth in irritation. He massaged his temples, “Why North Carolina? What is even there?” 
“The beaches.” 
“No shit you little spawn, but which one.” Nightwing didn’t bother reproaching his brother, and instead tightened his fist. He was so close to grabbing his brother. So close. 
The very knowledge that his little brother had barely escaped him stoked two different emotions in him. Pride in knowing that his brother was fast, fast enough to get away from him, and irritation because he did slip through Nightwing’s fingers. Batman didn’t seem bothered. 
In fact he looked awfully relaxed for someone whose son had just hopped on a train to North Carolina. Nightwing glared at him, “You know where he’s going.” Batman shrugged, “An idea.” 
“Where?” 
“Y/N took his freediving gear, and there’s only one beach in North Carolina that is worth freediving.” 
++++
Y/N felt the water encompass him, hugging his limbs and freeing him of gravity. The light attached to his forehead illuminates the sea and sees marine life at night. The train ride had been long and restless, but he did manage to at least sleep for 4 hours, before his nerves woke him up once more. 
It was still dark, but at 4 am in the morning, it would be stupid to assume there would be any light. Navigating to the pier at Wrightsville Beach had been difficult, constantly looking over his shoulders to make sure he wasn’t being followed. Then there was the actual jumping off of the pier that if anyone saw would have the cops racing over. 
Finally though, he was here. Swimming in the water and just letting himself be. It was a poor replication of freedom, but if this will be all he is allowed he’ll take it. Who knows how long it'll be before he could do something like this. Y/N isn’t stupid. He knows that Bruce knows where he is at. 
He knows his siblings are on their way over. Probably letting him get off the Amtrak first before jumping in the Batplane, or maybe even the Batboat. Y/N surfaced, and took a deep breath before diving below the surface once more. 
God, this was all a terrible joke but here it was happening. Y/N could have never imagined his family doing this. When he was younger, he chalked up Bruce’s need to constantly check on him as anxiety because it was the first time the man had a completely normal person in the house. Jason had always been touchy, and then Dick came along who would ruffle their hair. Tim would hold his forearm and Damian would follow him where he went. 
It wasn’t weird at all. That was Y/N’s normal, until he went to college and started making friends. Friends who were mature enough to see past his lack of hearing and shared their own sibling experiences. 
Experiences that didn’t match Y/N’s. 
His little trip outside the country only proved it, and Y/N wondered if it was a bad thing he decided to do in person classes instead of online. If he did online, he would live in the fantasy that his family was normal and they loved him as a person. No red flags would be waving because Y/N wouldn’t even know they are flags. 
He felt the water around him begin to vibrate and from the way the fish started spazzing out, Y/N knew his time was limited. How funny it would be if he never rose to the surface again. 
Sinking a bit further, he looked towards the surface and watched as the water distorted and ripples began to form, each one acting as a timer. Closing his eyes, he held his breath as long as he could, until his lungs began to ache. Lightheadedness caused him to almost inhale water.  
Rising to the surface, he could see the ominous black shape and the people looking over the edge. Here he was swimming back to his captors’ arms. Like a mouse headed for the trap. A fish into a net. 
Y/N has never hated himself more then when he took that breath of air and met the sight of cowled Batman, and masked Robin and former Robins. 
‘Ready?’ 
“Even if I wasn’t you’d still take me.” 
‘You lost Y/N, get out of the water.’ He accepted the ladder thrown down to him, and as soon as he was within arm distance, Red Hood and Red Robin hoisted him over the edge of the boat and it was Robin handing him a towel. Taking off his snorkel and flippers, Y/N let himself be guided to the inside, where an unmasked Dick sat at one of the tables with two cups of coffee. Red Hood pushed Y/N into the seat, squishing his body against the window as he laid his giant self on him. Sighing in relief and going limp. 
Y/N didn’t mind. From his seat, he watched the sunrays begin to slowly peak over the horizon. The warm glow gently illuminating the darkness, the sun not in sight yet but it’s very beginnings making itself known. Y/N wonders if one day, he can fall into the illusion of once more having a choice in his decisions. That there will be multiple paths in front of him instead of just one. 
A large hand patted his head, and Y/N felt disgusted that he welcomed it. Back to normalcy. He has to go back to normalcy. If he didn’t, Y/N really does believe he will go crazy. His fate has been chosen from the start, and he knows that there is little chance of changing it. He knows that all of this comes from a sick and twisted form of love, and Y/N wonders if this is the type of love he has always been destined for. 
The worst part is if given the choice to start over, Y/N wouldn’t stop himself from meeting Jason. He wouldn’t stop Jason from stealing the Batmobile tires, and he wouldn’t stop Jason from being Robin. He would try and stop Jason from dying, but he wouldn’t stop Tim from being Robin, or anything really. Y/N loves Jason, he loves his family, he loves their flaws and vices, even if it means letting go of somethings. His desire to be on his own was temporary anyways, only a few years and he would come back. 
It was never good to have a ‘white whale.’ That is what Moby Dick taught everyone who read it. 
If freedom was his white whale, then his family are the whalers. Killing it and completely destroying anything that made him want to chase it. 
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Honestly.... I'm not to sure about the ending.
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