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acid-ixx · 3 months

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ch.2: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three

read until the end for an author's note.

*"XX/XX/XXXX, entry no. 13.

i hate everything. i hate my family. i hate my father, i hate my brothers, i hate my classmates, i hate alfred, i hate this place, i hate my mom, i hate everyone.

why can't i ever get what i wanted? what do i have to do? i tried so hard to be everything for them, but why do i only amount to nothing? it's been a year, or two, i don't know. it hurts trying to remember when was the last time i saw him. saw, not talk, because he never talks to me, bruce never even looks at me. and i hate myself for trying to get him to look at me.

is he disgusted at me? does he see my mother in me? does he hate me that much? i don't know, i don't want to know, it hurts to know. i don't know why i'm trying anymore, i don't know how longer i can last in this hell. i can feel it, the longer i stay here, the more i lose a part of myself. i don't want to be here.

i don't want to pray anymore.

so if there's any god out there watching over me, then i wish for you to burn, to suffer, to go through the same thing i have been experiencing for years— all for putting me in this place. i would've been fine living in the streets with my mother. i would've been alright providing for our small family, i would've known to never get my hopes high, but you took her away from me!—

i hate you."

"master (name), are you awake? dinner is ready."

you had to shut your diary at the sound of the knock and alfred's voice.

"alfr-"

a cough, hoarse and croaky, cuts you out from calling his name. it was accompanied by uncontrollable sniffles, mucus blocking your nose from breathing properly. your room was dark, save for the lamp that lights up your bedside, where you currently were seated on your bed to write another entry, grip on your pen unknowingly harsh. you didn't even have to look at your reflection from your phone laying beside the diary to know that hiding your tears were fruitless.

salty were the crystalline droplets that streaks your face, but bitter were the emotions that had your heart ache.

you hear a sigh from the other room. before he could muster a reply, you beat him to it.

"i'm not eating dinner, alfred," you hate hearing your voice, sounding so obviously scrathy from the hours of wailing. "at least not with them. i don't want to get out at all."

"then may i at least bring them over to you, master (name)?"

his answer was final, you have no choice on retaliating and starving yourself like you did for the past few days. but it wasn't your fault that you had forgotten your body's needs. it wasn't your fault that your mind blanks itself out on the dinner table. it wasn't your fault that bile quickly crawls up your throat at hearing their voices.

you simply lost your appetite seeing them happy without you.

alfred pennyworth would never play favorite.

it was drilled into his head ever since he had sworn to serve the wayne family and its extended members— he is to serve anyone and everyone, regardless if they respect him or they do not; as long as they do not pose any danger within the manor, then he is to attend to them.

you'd think that in his decades of service for the wayne's - with all the contrasting personalities he had to deal with - he would maintain professional standards and tell everybody in the world, "i, of course, do not favor anyone within the family, i live to serve and that is truth." when in fact, he wouldn't hesistate to admit that he does, in actuality, have a favorite.

and no, it wouldn't be the eldest child, dick grayson, as much as he is alfred's pride and joy, nor would it be the youngest, damian wayne, who had been slowly correcting his mistakes. it wouldn't even be the head of the house, master bruce.

it would be you, (name) wayne, the infamous, yet forgetten child of the wayne family.

it wouldn't be a far fetch for alfred to admit that you weren't like the others. in all of the years that he served the wayne's, you were a contrast of the family.

the first few hours that he had picked you up from the police department upon the news of bruce's secret child, he knew you were more than just a child raised by the brutal streets of gotham.

you pose secrets that speak of the underground.

he remembers your seated form on the stiff chair of the interrogation room, pose unnervingly straight, as if you had solidified yourself against the metal seat. your fingers were the only signs that showed life, twiddling with each other as if it's some form of distraction.

you stared at nothing.

not even at the police as your name was called for pick up.

it took merely a signature of confirmation to dictate the future years of your life.

what's left of your belongings were given to alfred. the police officer, a woman with a kind smile then had to walk across the interrogation table to pat your back, gesturing for you to stand up and follow her and alfred on the way outside of the station, where the car was parked.

you hadn't uttered a word nor snapped out of your dreamlike gaze. not even when you were greeted with a thousand clicks of the cameras, the buzzing crowd that drowns the police station, or the hundreds of voices that yell at you to look at them.

(name) (last name), now formally adopted by bruce wayne, would be (name) wayne. it wouldn't be a shock that your sudden appearance as the child of a scandalous relationship between a prostitute and a billionaire would cause immense reactions. news would be spreading left and right, most of which were negative on your side.

he had to shield you from the crowd of photographers and journalists itching their way to the crowd to get a glance on you.

yet you didn't display any discomfort. you had only sat on the car obediently, fastening your seatbelts robotically and ignoring the lenses that unsettlingly tried to poke through the car windows to take pictures of you.

you were more like batman than you were bruce.

alfred had tried to get you communicate with questions like, "how are you over there, master (name)?" yet you would only mumble unintelligible responses to his questions without any ounce of emotion. he had to look at the rear view mirror to take in your stiff form. again, your eyes were set on nothing, even if they were casted down on the carpeted floorboards of the car.

when he had first met bruce, that child was overflowing with anger and vengeance for his parent's killer, yet you, who refused to explain your mother's disappearance, are devoid of anything.

the silence was defeaning throughout the ride. the only comfort that was provided was the rain that began to patter against the glass windows.

alfred throught you would retain the same behavior the entire day.

yet it was only when you first walked up the steps of the manor did your demeanor change, fingers immediately reaching up to hold the cuffs of his sleeves, pulling it as if you were hesitant to step in.

the first emotion you had shown him was concern, like a switch had flickered you out of your trance. it was the first time in a while that alfred had to do a double take to check if what was happening was real.

"can you... hold my hand?" and it was the first time he had heard you speak, voice unnaturally scratchy from the lack of water. you stared at him with wide, doe eyes that refused to blink, waiting for answers. alfred had to gaze at your entire body to finally notice that you were covered head to toe in sloppy bandages with blood seeping through the grime-filled gauze. your shoes were worn, your clothes were ripped, and other uncovered scars littered your body.

the most conspicuous color on your shirt was crimson red.

yet you do not display pain.

a child, five years of age, had been through more than enough anguish to know how to block their pain out.

you were unlike the rest, truly, you were unwavering of the world's cruelty.

the world does not deserve someone like you.

alfred takes it in himself to always hold your hand after that.

through the mansion doors, inside the kitchen, on your way to school; whenever and wherever, as long as he had time.

even if it were filled with scars and bruises, dirt and grime, he will always hold your hand if it meant guiding you through the darkness of the manor.

you may not consider yourself bruce's child, but you will always be alfred's.

another knock on your door had you snapping out of your trance. time passed by so quickly in the manor. well, it does when you have nothing to do but stare at your diary, draw on your sketchbook or scroll through your phone. yet time would always be the quickest whenever you drown in your own misery.

"come in," you croak out, aware that it would only be alfred who would come by your room. it was long ago since you had given up on awaiting for dick's visits.

a turn of the knob, then the door swings quietly; the hinges creak, you need them oiled sooner. alfred walks in, you notice he holds a tray that contains two cupcakes and a plate of your favorite dish, but you don't notice the small box with a bow hidden skillfully from the back of the tray. from over your seat, you could already smell the aromatic herbs that flutter in the room and see the colorful frosting from both cupcakes; an already lit candle sticking in from one.

the candle at least provides just a split second of light inside your dim room; the moonlight just like your family, absent.

alfred graciously places the tray on your nightstand, on the left of your diary. your room was still too silent.

you could only hear yourself.

"master (name), are you simply going to sit there and stare? or would you rather i spoonfeed you like i had when you had broken your wrist?"

you blink it out again, oblivious to your very own hyperawareness. alfred's still here. you hope that, in the presence of darkness, he wouldn't see just how much of a mess you are. how your hands could barely grip onto anything, hair unwashed, face stained with tears, difficulty breathing through the buildup of mucus, foot tapping up and down erratically— you wished he would pretend to be blind about your suffering for just this once.

"no—" came your sudden reply, "i can- yeah, i can eat by myself."

it's harder to lie to yourself than it is to others.

he looks at you with doubt, it makes you shiver.

despite you wishing for company inside the manor, you could never be used to attention. it would never be normal for someone like you. though, you wish it was. you wish you never hesitated when someone gives you attention.

you hear your mattress creak, there's a dip on your bed. alfred sits beside you, only then did you realize just how quickly you lean into his side, craving for warmth in the solace of your empty room.

everything hurts, it truly does.

you wish you were strong enough to cease the sudden burst of tears when his one hand circles your shoulder and the other holds the cupcake with a candle near your face. and you wish that you weren't so weak in the presence of another, trying to find a semblance of your worth in their attention.

you at least try to stifle your sobs—

"happy birthday, master (name)."

— but you were always weak, yet alfred never seems to mind, patting your back to console you from your wailing.

you blow the fire out with a single promise to yourself, crying a bit more when alfred had given you a gift box, laced with a ribbon of your favorite color.

it was one of the few gifts you would cherish, fondness seeping into the cracks of your heart.

though it wouldn't erase the bitterness that fills your being either way, knowing your family is still downstairs, unaware of the anguish the torment that they have put you through— it's still enough to let you hate alfred a little less.

"alfred?"

it was your meek voice, one that was always drowned out by the sound of the dishes clanking.

"yes, master (name)?" yet alfred could always strain out the sound of anything just to hear your talk. after all, you were a silent kid throughout your childhood.

"—if i move out of this place; would promise you wouldn't forget about me?"

... (name) wayne was full of surpises.

even at the ripe age of seventeen, and in the near fourteen years of raising you, alfred could never predict your words nor your actions.

you had always said things spontaneously, carrying an aura of awkwardness in your tone, reminiscent of someone who had their personal growth (moreover their social life) stunted.

but now, with the way you had said your resolve so confidently, it felt like he was looking at a different version of you; all the more confident and resilient.

except... you were behind him when you had said that - so he wasn't really looking at you - eating the first batch of his cookies whilst he was polishing the dishes with a cloth.

when he had turned around to look at you, though, you were still the socially inept child he knows and love, sitting on the breakfast bar and twirling around the stool as you attempt to not get crumbs everywhere. you were still so young in his eyes.

it's just, the way you had looked at him expectedly like you needed his approval that shocked him. it was always your eyes that had expressed the most emotions, glazing with anticipation for his response.

he knows it when you lie, and right now, you were dead serious in your resolve.

alfred had to relax the crease on his brows before he ages faster than he already is.

"well, master (name)," he continues, turning back to wiping the dishes clean before he could fully face you. "i would fully support you in your... journey, but what warranted you to be suddenly motivated on moving out?"

alfred had finished setting aside the dishes, but he still doesn't look back.

"i mean, i thought i already told you? i have a scholarship for college but it's on the other side of gotham and...

— i kind of don't want to be chauffeured by a limo around the campus everyday, you know? so the next best thing is to get a dorm."

alfred knows it when you lie. and right now, your hesitance tells him everything he needs to know.

you may have proved a point, but that point was an entire lie. with a person name wayne flaunting across a city whilst riding a limousine, you might find yourself into more trouble than anything else.

but he had always been the one to pick you up and drop you off from elementary and halfway through your highschool life— and you never seemed to mind until now.

it doesn't take a genius to know that you had already deviced a full plan of moving out and taken it into action; all you had to do was confront the only man in the manor who had cared about you enough to raise you about your worries.

it wasn't enough to convince him to let you go, though, especially not right after an incident that had occured prior to you highschool life. if he allows you to gain independence in gotham, he wouldn't know how long you would last.

but when he looks back at you again, he couldn't bring it in himself to oppose to your whims. you need a new environment; one that provides you a way to gain independence and, most preferably, social skills. staying cooped up in a manor with barely anybody talking to you does more harm than good.

and being ignored by your own family for almost fourteen years wouldn't be a great way to celebrate your already nearing eighteenth birthday.

alfred doesn't want to admit it, but if he keeps you here any longer, you would never grow up. one person could only do so much.

he whips out a sigh, looking at you with resignation in his eyes. but you know it in yourself that he swears his life on the promise.

"master (name)," he walks over to you, eyes darting at the cookie crumbs that litter around your mouth making a note to scold you on your manner later. he sits directly in front of you, hand patting your head as you merely stare at him expectedly.

"i have raised you for almost fourteen years, it's like you are my very own child. i would never forget you." he takes your hands in his. "but you have to also promise me to stay safe out there, master (name). call me once you're there."

alfred would find a way to get you to come back eventually, even if it meant utilizing your family's neglect, which was primarily the reason why you had moved out on the first place.

he just hopes you wouldn't connect the dots and pin the blame on him once you're back and safe in the manor.

and now, it had only been months since you had gotten away from the manor. he was proud of your development, of your choice and overall, you, but he wouldn't lie and say he doesn't miss you.

he misses hearing your voice directly, the line on the phone being too blotchy to properly hear you. he misses it when he would sit on your bed as your only audience whilst he watches you paint on your canvases, drawling on and on about highschool's latest drama. he misses it when you would always be the first to taste his dishes, face lighting up whenever the food was seasoned up; now he has to constantly remind you to eat a nutritious diet, even offering to send you money whenever you mention you were short on it.

in the good of your heart, you would always decline, even going as far to deny him of any liberty to track you down and bring you a meal himself.

alfred misses you.

does he regret allowing you your freedom? not really, no. but he knows it in himself that a greedy part of him prefers it if you were would visit the manor occasionally during your vacations, at least to bond with him. but you simply chose not to, even going as far to legally change your name once you had become eighteen so you wouldn't be associated with your father's last name.

but that wouldn't erase the past you had tried to meticulously cover.

(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid leaving a police station and entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.

and most importantly, you are a product of a one-night-stand.

but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.

your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.

you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.

it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.

the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.

after all, your freedom is your doom.

the wayne manor, in all its glory, could only be described as this palace overflowing his its abundant history and fame.

it was a castle that houses a boy who had lost his parents and became gotham's very own vigilante who stalks through the night to lessen the very evil that devours its citizens. it was the training grounds where the robins, sidekicks dressed in colorful attire, opposite to batman, were raised to be worthy enough to stand by the dark knight's side. but most importantly, it was a home for troubled children who were in their journey of their very own personal struggles.

yet even in its exterior splendour, it would always be innately overcome with loneliness.

for someone like bruce wayne, he embraces this desolation just as he embraces his alter-ego, batman, who wears a suit of black and dons an aura that demanded fear.

even if he carries the persona of 'brucie wayne' a ditsy, playboy who enjoys galas and sleeping with women every other night, he prefers solitude over the sea of interviewers who throng around him like he was a piece of meat.

it would be the only time he could focus on his countless of stacked paperworks to sign and his plans to ransack another criminal's master plan.

before winter could cover gotham in its sheet of pure, white coldness, rain would always terrorize the skies. he finds this the perfect atmosphere; dark grey clouds prevent the sun from peaking through, droplets of rain would pelt against the vast windows that surrounds his study, and there was enough background noise to block out any sounds that would pass through the door.

bruce wayne was focused on his work, and that meant disturbance wasn't allowed inside the manor. thankfully, it was a quiet, uneventful afternoon today.

in fact, it was all too abnormally quiet.

his scarred hands work through signing papers effiently and effortlessly, practiced fingers signing papers after he would meticulously scan over the paragraphs of texts that scale from business deals to partnerships to buying a piece of land. then later, once the moon rises, he would have to patrol with damian and disrupt another drug trade that had been recently dealing with children on the alleys of gotham.

that means he has to sign or reject at least half of the papers before evening falls through, so he could have alfred send them over through the post office tomorrow morning.

he was at least a quarter way through his work, though, when his flow was disrupted by a courteous knock by the mahogany doors.

he didn't have to look up or ask who it was, knowing it was alfred, his butler.

"master bruce, i have your tea ready, along with news to bare," bruce could hear the tone of urgency and a tinge of sullenness in alfred's voice. it was rare for alfred to be emotionally distressed, as he was typically the most composed out of everyone in the family.

"come on in, alfred," bruce's vocal chords were gruff, raspy whenever he's too engrossed in whatever he was doing.

but he was piqued at the news alfred was eager to share, the butler expertly turning the knob and entering with a tray that holds a hot serving of tea.

bruce stopped signing the papers, putting down his pen as he watches alfred, composed as always, place the tray down on his desk, not a single clank that was produced from the metal sheets. he watches as alfred reflexively pours him a cup of tea.

it was only after that action that the two share eye contact, alfred stationing himself to the right of bruce's desk.

if he wasn't a detective, he wouldn't have noticed the furrow of alfred's brows, which was uncharacteristic of the composed butler.

he reckons he should address the elephant in the room.

"what is it that you want to tell me, alfred?" bruce swivels his chair to face alfred, fingers tapping the mahogany desk rhythmically.

"master bruce, i figured you should have known this for quite a long time ago, but your third child had moved out on their own and now lives at the opposite side of gotham. right now, they may have been struggling to make ends meet."

huh?

"what do you mean, alfred? you're aware that tim is currently living in the manor—"

"no, master, i am talking about your third, not fourth child; master (name)."

... (name)?

ah, his... other child.

alfred looks at his seated form, expecting the befuddled reaction from bruce.

it doesn't take long for bruce to recover from his thoughts, eyebrows furrowed the same way as alfred as he leans against his chair.

"and what of (name)? why was i not updated about them?"

alfred had to stifle a groan as he then glares at bruce with what he could suppose was exasperation.

"i had already told you about their leave months ago, master bruce. you had simply waved me off whenever the topic is of master (name)." the butler's glare hardened, reminiscent of the times where bruce was scolded as a child. and like a child, he doesn't know what he had done wrong.

"i feel it is time for you to take it into your hands to deal with master (name)'s situation right now. i do not have access to their location and just like you, they are stubborn and refuse to accept any financial aid that comes to them in any form—"

to make matters worse, alfred had the gall to stop midway into his explanation, sighing and blinking unnervingly which catches more than bruce's attention.

"they would rather not admit it, but if they were to fail to pay for this month's rent of their apartment, they would get evicted from their very own living space."

at pretty much the last sentence, bruce's gaze hardened. not at alfred, no, but at the thought of you; his... forgotten child. if it was money that you need, why had you not ask for any allowance in the first place? bruce would admit that, well, it had been too long since he had last seen your face, nor even... remember it—

but you were still a child of his and he wouldn't deny you of an allowance if it meant persuing your... highschool or college dreams...?

shit, what grade are you in?

why didn't he know you moved out in the first place? wait—

"alfred, how long has it been since they had last moved out?"

"roughly six or seven months ago, master."

"ah, but having a place of your own as a minor would be prohibited by law."

"master bruce, they're eighteen. they're old enough to live in their own apartment."

eighteen years old...? how long had it been since he had last seen or heard of you? if what alfred had said was true, that the butler had attempted to reach out to him about you, then why had he not remember in the first place? you were a quiet kid, sure, but for someone like bruce, people would always not be overlooked.

it wasn't in him to easily forget, but he hates how he couldn't muster up a single memory of your face— not even your hair color nor your eyes. did you even... exist in his eyes? there was not a single memory of you that he could come up in his head.

his child was eighteen now, how could he not have known in the first place? how could he not recollect a single birthday of yours? or any celebration or gala that had you in it?

alfred's sigh snapped him out of his trance once more.

bruce looked up, seeing resignation upon alfred's face. he simply stood there, posture straight as always, but bruce couldn't wash away the shame that cages his heart when there was not a single image of you that pops up in his mind— alfred's disappointment merely worsened

the tea in his desk had long since gone untouched, but bruce couldn't bring it in himself to drink a single drop of it, even if his lips were dried and his throat was begging for even a single droplet of water.

he denies himself of any relief.

"i figure i should leave you in your own, master bruce, to at least compose yourself before nightfall. please do take your child into consideration, though, enough time has passed since you have last seen them." alfred states, as if it was a matter of fact. and it was, bruce should've known about your leave, as your father and as the man who took you in, he should've.

so before the butler could even take a step, bruce hastily stands up from his seat, pen long since discarded on his desk and a quarter of the papers are now messily stacked upon each other, but bruce pays them no mind.

"take me to (name)'s room right now, i need to see things for myself."

if bruce couldn't even remember a single instance of you, then maybe a trip to your room would be enough for him to remember.

but if that doesn't work then... bruce would a find a way, he always would.

and as your father, he needs to at least support you, even financial no matter your stubbornness? even if the shame he feels right now is so immensely disturbing, and the migraine is quickly finding its way into his head— he needs to know more about you, his actual third child.

bruce wayne needs to see your face just once.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 5k+ words. no beta, we die like jason todd with a crowbar. my least favorite part of writing the chapter is literally starting it. i had at least 5 drafts all lined up and it took me an hour in the bed to think about how should i start it. i literally hope you guys enjoy the chapter hehe, and start to yk, notice the patterns and the parallels between your perspective and bruce's perspective bec ur literally his child, u guys share some habits even if u never once talked to him lmao. the most emotionally draining scene was writing the birthday scene, i had to take breaks from typing it out hehe. bruce's descent to yandere-ism isn't as quick as dick's but it would be worst in the next chapter.

also, i hope you guys are able to notice the bad habits that the reader eventually collects because it's important for the next chapters. it would be better if anyone of u could... point them out in my asks or comments, i love rambling about it yk, and a lot of you are absolutely brilliant in making theories that are absolutely right. anyways, i hope u enjoy this chapter because this was one hell of a ride for me and i appreciate all the reblogs and comments despite me not replying to a lot of yall but u guys truly are my motivation so thank u lots :(((<33!

taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @ruiroku, @okaybutfullhomo, @trasshy-artist, @obsessedwithromance, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa, @maicenitas, @ilovvmyhusband, @6uuyuuhgy, @plsfckmedxddy, @lavender-moony, @sweetheart-era, @chemicalsandghosts, @darling006, @starringyau, @rosecentury, @jaythes1mp, @pi1nkl0ver, @i-thirsty-boi, @sharks-r-cool-l, @silverklaus, @samanthathanes, @traumaramacenter, @maddimoon, @anxrq, @thedarknesslord, @h0rr0r-10ver-69, @lazy-idate, @googeecat44, @simpingfor-wakasa, @zvghfgn, @0patito0 (if i had forgotten to put any of u in a taglist please forgive me, it's hard to keep track !!)

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hyewka · 2 months

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straddling beomgyu while hes injured, and hes all pouty because he thinks youre going to tease him again and excuse it all under the excuse of him still limping as if that had any slight relation to his ability to fuck your cunt so once his bulge grows and he isnt able to resist your kisses any longer, he expects you to get up and blue ball him for the third time this week & hes absolutely ready to force out a couple pretty tears for you so you could spare him a bone but then you pull him into a deeper, longer kiss until youre running your hands up under his shirt, feeling him up and hes absolutely straining against his shorts. when you pull away, you bite your lip at the gloss all over his mouth, he manages to look ridiculous and pretty simultaneously. “woah, we’re really doing it this time?”

you shrug, “don’t know, depends how badly you’d beg for it.”

he can barely contain his excitement as he tugs you down for another kiss; his hands slide up under the skirt, finding its way to your bare ass, “need you so bad. please dont edge me again, its torture.”

his body tenses as he tries to fight back a moan at the teasing drag of your newly done acrylic nails against his skin. "i’m...serious…" he breathes, his hips jerking up to chase after more contact.

“what if i do edge you again?”

his lower lip juts out into a petulant pout again, “you’re going to kill me. you’re so mean.”

to beomgyus best interest, you’re also needy and kind of tired of having to resort to a toy while you wait for him to fully recover despite his eagerness to do most of the job of pleasing you. subby beomgyu with his half lidded eyes, looking up at you, breathing heavy and needy, desperately bucking his hips into your heat as he whines about how much he needs you. just take him, whip out his cock thats currently about to burst and ride him out, please just use him. his hands clutch at your hips, trying to pull you closer, just grind harder against him.

rlly obsessed with pathetic gyu cumming in his pants from getting too desperate and crazy with need </3 its been too long (5 days), you cant blame him!!

#🌷. rana thoughts #Guys. this is what happens when a writers writing block lifts.#beomgyu smut #sub!idol

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cheruib · 1 year

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the story of saying goodbye to summer

#my writing #feeling love + warmth is the reason why we’re here etc #🫶🌷🦋💞⛅️

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tteokdoroki · 1 year

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eren is so utterly pussy whipped he cries when he cums a little bit—that’s how overwhelming your love is for him, how overwhelming his love is for you <333

𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — love you slow + eren jaeger.

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — smut, mdni 18+, missionary, unprotected sex, creampies, slight!dacryphilia, eren cries when he cums, fem!reader.

semmie i love him so much i need him so bad

like :( imagine all of eren’s weight on you, his hips lazily pulling back and pushing forward for him to thrust into you, grind his tip into the spot that makes you cling to him or tighten around him. both of you impossibly close and he feels like it’s not enough, wrapping an arm around the top of your head to keep you safe and underneath him.

he loves you so much, needs you so bad— his pelvis bumping your sticky clit and your ankles locked around his slender waist, eren can’t find it in himself to stop fucking you ‘cause all he wants is to make you cum or see stars or just fall apart beneath him :( you’re his baby, teary eyed with your nails digging into his flesh and your lips parted in a pretty ‘o’ shape and it drives eren insane seeing you like this.

seeing you fall apart like this just for him. like he does for you.

stop and he’s got these muffled moans, whimpery and broken— almost feather light cause even though he’s pounding you to high heavens, using the thickness of his cock to mould your gushing insides into the shape of him…eren just has this realisation that you only want him to have you and see you like this. eren would brush his thumb over your glossy bottom lip and just drool into your open mouth, kissing you before you can swallow, with teeth and tongue and all. it’s messy, uncoordinated but full of love.

“baby...‘mgonnacum,” eren slurs into the wetness of your mouth, the bed creaking under the momentum of the slow and sensual sex. his muscles flex and sweat droplets slide through the crevices of each one, overworking to make sure his cock hits each of those pleasure spots along your gummy walls to make you cry out. to drag you closer to your high. “g-gonna let me fill you up? h-huh? oh fuck, baby.” he can’t help but whine, stuttering for breath.

he damn near shudders when you run your fingers through his sweaty hair, drag him back to your lips and lick into his mouth. “inside e-eren! wan’ you inside,” the way you plead for his cum makes him hiccup, his hips barely pulling back from being smooshed up against your throbbing clit and his balls smacking harshly against the soft curve to your ass. you’re so precious, put on his earth just for eren and it breaks him. “please. i need you.”

eren loses his rhythm, clutching you tighter, chasing his high and fumbling with your swelling pleasure nub because he can never leave you behind— he needs you by his side at all times, even if it means giving you all of him, plunging his leaky cock deep within you as you milk him for all his worth. “whatever my baby wants…whatever my baby fuckin’ needs. god, ‘m gonna fill you up s’good,” like he’s running his mouth and his brain can’t keep up with the pace of his hips.

his mind is full of you and your angelic cries and the way you go from clawing at eren’s back to scratching at his scalp— desperate for everything he has to give you while your ravaged pussy pulses around him. he pushes his hot face into your neck, fighting back choked sobs and succumbing to your warmth and wetness, how good you make him feel.

“i-i love you, baby. s-so fucking bad. always.” eren moans deep into your mouth when he cums, painting your pussy white inside and out, smearing it against your clit. you can feel him tremble above you along with the wave of adoration that washes over you as you fall into your orgasm with him — clenching down on eren with every pump of seed he fucks and drags along your ribbed walls.

his green eyes are teary, glassy with affection as you kiss him tender and say. “i love you too.”

#eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren thirst #eren smut #eren x reader #aot smut #aot thirst #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #✧ ₊˚੭ — close friends story #♡︎₊˚semmie.🌷

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mias-blogs · 8 months

Text

𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐧, 𝐐𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐡𝐢 𝐇𝐮𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚 𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐚 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖

𝐟𝐢𝐜'𝐬 (𝐓𝐖: 𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

A quick thank you to anyone who voted!

🄿🄾🅂🄴🄸🄳🄾🄽.

𝐓𝐰: Overstimulation, nicknames, degrading, subspace, nipple play, reader is mean and rough

The once prideful god is now laying almost motionless underneath you, his hands laying next to his head as he whimpers and moans till his throat almost hurts, he can't even count how many times he had came, your hips still forcefully clapping down on his dick over and over again, as he feels dizzy everytime your soft and moist insides get tighter around his cock, he tried to keep up, he really did, but it's too much when you keep throwing insult after insult everytime he cums too early, of course he's sensitive, you won't even let him have a break.

“ You call yourself a ‘god’? a ‘Tyrant’? don't make me laugh.” you chuckled to yourself as you slammed your hips down hard, burying his cock deep inside, making him cum inside of you, his now weak hands tried to paw at your hips to push you away, his whining can't even be put into any form of words as he keeps on just begging between his sentences, oh, how great if felt to tear at his ego and crush his pride, having him all pathetic under you, what happened to that perfect god thing he had up?

“ One more.” you said as you start to move again, making the god under you whine as he seemed like he was about to throw a fit but too weak to do so, his blonde hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat, it was the nth time you said that in one night, why do you treat him like he's nothing but under you? like he's lower than all the mortals that he hates, he shouldn't be treated like this, he's a king, a god, you should bow in his presence, yet you taunt and torment him for your own enjoyment till he's forced into a mess.

Your fingers slowly trail up his chest, finding their way up to his pink nipples, as they reached their destination, you pinch his nipples tightly at the same time snapping your hips down on him, making him let out a yelp mixed with a loud moan as he throws his head back, his knees jolted up as he quickly falls back into his moveless state, his moans becoming louder as you play with his nipples harshly and at the same time ride his cock too fast for him to take, his head becoming dizzy as he tries to move his chest away from your gaze and your harsh touch

“ Stop whining like a common whore and take it, your supposed to be a god or something, right?” you taunt him again as you don't move your hands away from their place, pinching hard as you pull at them ever so slightly, as you almost immediately felt him cum again, looking down at his face, it looks like he's about to pass out from all of this, you chuckled under your breath as you slowly pull away letting his cock slip out of you with a wet sound as it slowly starts to spill out of you, that's probably enough for him, for today at least.

🅀🄸🄽 🅂🄷🄸 🄷🅄🄰🄽🄶

𝐓𝐰: Handjob, edging, nipple play, reader squeezes his (tits) pecs, overstimulation (implied at the end)

You currently have the first emperor of china up against your chest while you play with his cock and he struggles to not cum, his back pressed up against your breasts as his muscular arms hold onto your thighs tightly, his head thrown back against you shoulder as moans and pathetic whimpers fall from his throat, your hand doesn't stop as it reaches his tip, running your thumb over the slit teasingly and immediately pulling back as you feel a twitch from his cock that he's about to cum.

He immediately let's out a frustrated moan as his tip leaks out pre cum on his thigh, his hands strongly squeezing your thighs as he huffed is annoyance,“I- I beg of you..” the emperor chokes on his own moan as he tries to beg for your mercy, he's an emperor and you treat him as your own personal servant and toy, which he does find enjoyable but also tortures with how you don't even give him a moments rest.

Your hand almost immediately goes back to his cock, stroking up and down as a smile paints onto your face, your eyes looking at his cock and your hand continues teasing him without rest, your lips kissing his jaw as you pull him close to you, one of your hands that's on his stomach to keep him from slipping, slowly makes its way to his chest, gently squeezing one his pecs, putting his nipple between your index and middle finger as you pull at it gently, making him bite his lip as he struggles not to let out a whine.

But that is quickly put down the drain as you move your hand faster around his cock and pitch at his nipple at the same time, he let's out a whine and throws his head back in pleasure, as many loud moans fall from his throat right after and you feel his cock twitching, before you could pull away, he spills into your hand as he's panting heavily, his body limp against your chest, his cum being all over your hands and his thighs.

“Really? You couldn't even hold back one more time till I told you you could come?” you taunt at him as you look at his flush drowned face, he tries to gather his words and try to talk to you, but is quickly shut up by your hand starting to move up and down his shaft in a fast motion, no real intension of stopping any time soon, he just came and yet you do this out of the blue? now that's just cruel to your little emperor.

🄽🄸🄺🄾🄻🄰 🅃🄴🅂🄻🄰

𝐓𝐰: riding, begging, sweet talk (not really), nice and mean reader, orgasm denial

“ [Name]! I- I beg of y- you! pl-please!” the scientist words turn into mindless blabbering as he can't even think straight any longer, you keep going so slow, and he knows your doing it on purpose, you won't go any faster even when he begs, oh so sweetly to you, haven't you mocked him enough by treating him as if he's a crying child all this time? it's as if he's throwing a tantrum, but he's not, he's listening to your words so sweetly, yet you don't even ride him right.

“ Nikola.. your whining again, you know I don't like when you whine like that.” you muttered as you softly pet his hair as he buries his face into your soft breasts, wrapping his arms around your back as he tries and listens to your every order, but you make it so hard when your seemingly punishing him for something he didn't do, he can only nod his head as tires and calms down but when your pussy is so snuggly tight and wrapped around his cock like that, it makes it so hard to not try and thrust up to get some stimulation.

You hum as you move your hips slowly, a smile painting your lips as you watch him react, you know he needs more, but your not giving it to him, why? because he needs to have some sense into him, of course, he's a sweetheart of a nerdy scientist but he can be more oblivious than a damn rock, so why not make him whine and torture him for a tad bit?

Your hand brushes against the man's, now messy, short brown hair, twirling it around your finger gently as you brush it out of his face, kissing his forehead gently as the scientist looks at you with lost eyes in admiration and awe of you, the only god he was willing to worship, you smile down at him as he leans into your gentle touches, at the same time your hips start to move faster as you obliged to his earlier wishes, making the mans breath catch on his throat as his hands go to grip onto your thighs as he throws his head back in pleasure.

Pleads and thank you's leave his throat as he tries to pull you closer to him, your touch on his bare skin feeling like a blessing to him, his cock already so sensitive from the time you forced him to stay still while he was buried deep inside of you and your warm pussy was squeezing him so tightly he thought he'd cum right there, his moans growing louder as your hips moved faster against his, one of your hands placed on his shoulder for support as you leaned back to give him a view of what you were doing to him.

As he gets closer and closer to the edge of his climax, he feels your hips stop right as they slam him all the way in for the last time, he chokes on his breath as his head fall forward, burying his face into your shoulder as his arms are tightly wrapped around you, you were so cruel to your sweet scientist but he didn't let a word out, only swallowing his words as he was merciless under your sweet and loving touch.

I like being mean on this one, idk why

#ror x reader #snv x reader #snv smut #qin shi huang x reader #ror nikola tesla #ror poseidon #snv nikola tesla #ror nikola tesla smut #ror qin shi huang #snv qin shi huang #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror x you #record of ragnarok #mia writes🌷

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evermourning · 8 months

Note

we were talking about this the other day and i really wanna see your take on the orange theory with the skz boys 🙏🙏

-🌷

ooh yes 😈😈 these get like progressively longer sorry

ORANGE THEORY WITH SKZ!

chan carefully peels your oranges without you knowing, digging into the juice-covered rind no matter the length of his fingernails to appease you. it's all worth it to him to see the way your eyes light up as you lean your body against his, warmth radiating from you.

minho is no better than chan, except for the fact that he's more discreet about it. he'd spend eons by your side peeling them if it meant being with you. he loves the way you chat with him animatedly, eagerly biting into the citrusy wedge...turning away to hide the burning tips of his ears.

changbin pretends to not know how to peel oranges. he complains that his fingers are built for lifting weights, not peeling fruit. in reality, he can peel them fine, but he just loves when you do it. the way your fingers nimbly slip under the peel, pulling it back. he always shows his gratitude through kisses all over your face, citrus on his breath.

hyunjin craves simple acts of domesticity with you. he adores every inch of you, wanting nothing more than to spoil you. he sits at the kitchen counter with you, orange rinds piled neatly upon a napkin beside him. you watch him with an adoring smile as he furrows his eyebrows in concentration, your chin resting on the upturned palm of your hand. your little life with hyunjin is so lovely.

jisung looks at you like you deserve the sky and the stars. he's always been embarrassed he can't peel his own oranges - he doesn't want to seem childish or helpless. he can't help it, though...every time he tries, his nail pierces right through the center and juice gushes out like blood from an open wound. when he admitted this to you, looking at the floor in embarrassment, you murmured a quiet "that's okay. i'll peel them for you, ji." and ever since then, he's been head over heels in love with you. (well, he always has been...it's just more prominent now!)

felix would do anything for you if you asked. you come up to him, a mauled orange laying lifeless in your hands. your lips are turned into a pout. he immediately knows what you want, setting down his phone (your most recent tiktok plays on repeat) and taking it in his own hands. his hands are tiny and lithe, and he peels the orange in no time. thankfully, the inside is safe, as all of your senseless attacks were focused at the peel. you gleefully wrap your arms around him, leaning in for a peck on the lips. maybe he should peel your oranges more often.

seungmin can put on his uninterested act all he wants, but if he really did not care for you, he wouldn't be sitting here peeling oranges for the love of his life. he has little cuts on the skin beneath his nails from picking at them, and he lets out a hiss of pain as the juices sting his skin. as if you were listening for him to make a sound, you appear almost instantaneously behind him, armed with a bandaid and a kiss to make the wound feel better. once it's wrapped, he decides to finish peeling the oranges, much to your chagrin. how else could he repay someone as perfect as you?

jeongin may tease you mercilessly for not knowing how to peel fruit, but that doesn't mean he won't peel them for you! he giggles, saying things like "this is so easy" and "how do you mess this up?" as he expertly peels the orange, separating each wedge neatly. then, he lifts one up to meet your parted lips, a warm smile upon his handsome face. "say ahh." as you open your mouth and he feeds you the orange slice, you can't help but notice his rosy cheeks. "don't ever learn how to peel anything, okay? i've got you."

#renny's asks ☄. *.#🌷 anon #luvie <3 #skz #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz ot8 #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #ren writes!! <3 #evermourning

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yo-yo-yeonkai · 8 months

Text

ARE YOU SURE PRINCESS? - KANG TAHEYUN - NSFW

Taehyun x AFAB!reader

Genre: smut

Warning list: best friend! Tae, smoker! Tae, non-smoker! Reader, unprotected, handjob, praise (good girl), pet names (princess, baby, doll), drugs, smoking, feelings involved, barely proofread.

Word count: 1,858

Summary: You only wanted a taste, and maybe, just maybe you knew one taste would lead to another.

It was only meant to be a taste. Only innocent curiosity. But it became something so much more.

Your best friend smoked weed, and he'd never even suggested you tried it, he simply let you make your own decisions. So when you're at his he asks "are you fine with me smoking here, or do you want me to go outside". He doesn't ask "wanna smoke with me?". No, he'd never ask that. You were too precious for him to coerce like that.

You gazed up at him, through your eyelashes, he leant lazily against his head board, eyes looking down at you lying across his bed comfortably. Dress hardly covering your ass as you swung your legs in the air behind you, tits slipping ever so slightly from the low neckline. He was hungry for more than a smoke.

You make a decision right then that you wanted to try it, but you were too nervous to say. "Smoke here Tyun, I don't mind" you smiled at him, watching as he reached into his bedside table and got out his spliff.

As he placed it between his lips he looked at you and shook his head "are you sure princess?". Oh the nickname, he knew it made you shiver and he only used it when he wanted you to answer him honestly, it's like he knew you wanted him to take control of you and fucking rail you into tomorrow.

You nodded, leaning up on your elbows and placing your chin in your hands to look at him as he lit it. "Whatever you want" he chuckles, and the first drag he exhaled upwards, completely away from you which wasn't what you'd expected. You grew frustrated at your plan going sideways, having to restrain yourself from dragging him to you so he has nowhere else to blow it but towards you.

You let him do this a few more times before you giggled at him "you don't need to do that you know. I don't mind...". You do mind actually you want him to blow it in your mouth, but you'd never admit that, it's too humiliating.

he flicked his gaze down at you in amusement and shrugged his shoulders, indifferent. When he looked at you he held your eyes and suddenly you couldn't hear the music he was playing, all you could think about was him. He took a drag, and this time he blew it directly at you. You tried to sneakily inhale it and he of course saw, but he'd let you try just two more times before he coaxed you over.

You'd never smoked before, you weren't sure how to do it. So when he told you to come over, and patted the space between his spread legs you grew nervous. The second you were on your knees in front of him he smirked at you "ask for my help princess-" he teased. The words made desire pool in your stomach. Beg, he wanted you too beg - Your mouth opened and closed before an exasperated mumbled came out "I don't know what you mean Tae". Play dumb, it was time to play dumb.

He ran his rough finger along your jaw, grasping your chin and pulling your face closer ever so slightly. The feeling of his fingers on you sent sparks through your skin, igniting your body with desperation for him. He chuckles lowly, "I know what you want- just ask".

It wasn't exactly surprising he knew what you wanted, he always read you like a book. There was no point in playing dumb with him anymore. "Tyun please may you teach me how to smoke. I want to try it but I'm nervous I'll do it wrong". The corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk as he nodded at you and placed the spliff in his mouth. “Seeing as asked so nicely princess~”, he muttered, spliff shaking as each word fell from his lips.

Leaning towards you he picked you up and lifted you onto his lap, your legs naturally straddling him. He was touchy sure, but never this much?! Was he on drugs- wait, yeah, yeah he was.

He held the spliff and spoke to you "I'll be easy on you princess- all I want you to do is inhale what I blow towards you. If you aren't sure breath in like normal then take another little breath and breath out. Ready doll?". You listened to him as carefully as you could with your senses slowed from being on top of him and nodded.

You carefully watched as he inhaled then grasped the back of your head and pulled you painfully close to him, blowing the smoke to you. You did as he said, feeling like you'd inhaled it successfully.

He watched as you blew it back out with a smile "good girl" he chuckled. Each time you got better and suddenly on the last drag he kissed you, pushing the smoke directly into your mouth. You tried to inhale, but you could hardly focus. Everything was already feeling dizzy and Taehyun was finally kissing you, how could you be expected to function?

Even once the smoke was long gone his lips stayed on yours, pursuing you in such a way you felt even dizzier. His tongue prodded at your mouth and you knew he wanted to explore you and you'd let him do whatever he wanted.

Your lips parted for him, and he was quick to pull you closer, further into his lap, chests flush against each others. He was desperate to feel you, taste you, hear you. You groaned into the kiss as he grabbed your ass, back arching, grinding against him so sinfully. You were so sensitive for him, so beautiful.

He pulled away from you "you did so well princess. Did exactly as I asked" he compliments, trailing wet kisses from your jaw to your shoulder, pulling the strap of your pretty little dress off your shoulder.

Instead of responding you began grinding on his now hard dick, you'd felt it grow beneath you. He groaned at the feeling and grabbed your hips. "No baby, if you are gonna do that, you are gonna do it on my dick. Take your clothes off" he told you. And from there is was a rush, you were practically ripping off your clothes, and he was tugging at his own, then sitting back down so you could get back to it.

You crawled up to his lap, hooked a leg over his and slowly brought your hand up to your mouth and spat on it, then lowering it back to his dick. You began pumping him, teasing him almost, running a thumb over the tip and dragging his precum down to the base of his cock. He threw his head back and groaned, grasping your hand and collecting himself. "Not now princess, we have plenty of time for that. But right now I need to feel you. I want that pretty pussy wrapped around me, and I know you want to feel me too" he groaned, deep eyes staring into your own eyes as the words left his swollen lips. He was right of course, he was reading you like a book again.

You grabbed his dick but this time you guided it to your dripping hole, moaning as you began to sink down. You didn't even need to lube Taehyun's dick up, you were so wet for him, so very ready to take him, you were always ready to take him. You craved your best friend... it was sinful.

Taehyun was big, and you couldn't take him straight away, you were easing yourself, stretching your pussy to try make him fit. You whined as you tried to take him but only got about half way, "T-Tae I don't think I can take it- you're too big" you whined, humiliated.

He kissed you thrice on the lips then once on each cheek "I'll make it fit princess, don't you worry". Taehyun couldn't take it, the way you were already clenching around him, he'd fucking cum in no time if you kept doing that.

Grabbing your hips, he squeezed them as he slammed you down on him, a scream ripping from your throat at the feeling. No warning, no hesitation, he needed you.

His cock stretched you, made a mess out of you, and he wasn't stopping there. He pulled you all the way up and pushed you down, bottoming out in you, forcing your body to accept his cock, making you feel as good as he felt.

Your body was on fire, head spinning as your hips slammed against his, dick hitting the perfect sensitive spots in you. Your head rested on his shoulder as he used you like a doll, moaning into his ear, his groans meeting your own ear, his breath hitting your shoulder with a hot fan of air. He was wrecking your cunt with each drag of his hips, filling you with his cock. Ruining your composure at each filthy word he spoke "That's it princess, keep bouncing on my cock. You are such a good girl hmmm?" He groaned, kissing your shoulder sweetly as a treat for taking him so well.

You were so whiny, so sensitive, so dumb. And all for Taehyun.

You'd like to blame the weed, you'd like to blame how well Tae was fucking you, but you knew it's cause you fucking liked him. His name continued to slip from your lips like a prayer, as his grip gradually tightened and his fingers dug into your hips, crescent moon marks staining your hips.

"You sound so perfect. So pretty. You are so beautiful" he tells you, sliding his hands up to your back to hold you closer, abit more romantically than before. He grips your shoulders and now used this as his leverage to keep you bouncing on his cock, pushing and pulling like before. "My pretty girl. Mine" he groans and you whined at the sound. "Say it back princess" he tells you, speeding up so dangerously that you could hardly answer.

"Y-yours Tyun- m' yours" you do as asked, voice so weak and pathetic he chuckles at you, but kisses your shoulder regardless. You were his pathetic girl...

Pleasure built and built in your stomach and the line between reality and imagination blurred. His pace grew erratic "my pretty fucking girl. God your pussy feels heavenly" he moans, his own high as near as yours. "Tyun please- m' so close" you slurred a moan into his ear. He huffed as he thrusted faster "I know princess, I'll make you feel good" he promised, and once again Taehyun wasn't wrong.

A few last thrusts into your fucked out cunt and you'd come undone on his cock, spurts of his cum shooting into you, insides painted white.

As you panted, trying to use your hands to push yourself off him he stopped you as you sat up. He held your face up to him as he kissed you then muttered "I'm not done with you yet princess~".

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moonlight-prose · 9 months

Note

11 with Poe? 🥺 💞

𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

a/n: this prompt with poe is so soft and warm it's actually melting my heart. i'm a massive sucker for someone taking care of the person they love in such a simple way like this. it's short and more of a drabble, but i really enjoyed bringing some softness to this man. i always seem to put him in angsty situations, so he deserves this.

summary: "he was with you. the person he longed to be around. who’s smile made him smile, and who’s laugh made him laugh. rather than looking for a quick escape, he found himself hoping that the mission would take even longer."

word count: 1k+

pairing: poe dameron x reader

warnings: not explicit, soft poe, flirting, fluffiness, poe dameron being hopelessly head over heels.

Squinting against the bright light of the sun, you traversed your way through the field, trying to catch up to the group ahead. It was a simple mission. Head out to a planet, find whoever was willing to trade shitty x-wing parts for something far better, and get back before dinner. Really it was more a quick vacation than anything else—a chance to get away from the chaos that your lives had become.

Poe shifted, checking to see exactly where you both had ended up in the hour you’d been walking. It’s not that you were lost. You were simply exploring. Or at least…that’s how Poe put it. You however had been keeping track of the different paths you’d taken, making sure to mark on your map where exactly you had to backtrack to get where you needed.

He sighed for the tenth time, scrubbing a hand down his face, his brows pulling together with frustration. It was clear that getting back to base before dinner wasn’t a possibility. Which meant you would have to find a place here amidst the greenery and gorgeous landscape.

You didn’t mind the idea much. However you couldn’t necessarily say the same for Poe.

“So where exactly are we?” you asked, trying to comprehend the bits and pieces of the foreign language. Growing up in the galaxy meant you knew more than your fair share, but sometimes it was hard to learn it all.

“Who the fuck knows,” he muttered, turning to look at yet another green hill. It looked identical to the last five you passed.

“It’s getting late.”

He nodded. “Think we can make it back to the ship tonight?”

There was a possibility of that happening if you turned back now, but you could see the sun begin its descent into the horizon, the day coming quickly to a close. The planet was known for housing less than lethal life forms, which made the idea of camping outside that much more appealing. You slept in a tiny bunk back at the base. Barely enough room to stretch out your legs before you hit the wall beside you—the open space around you felt like a damn gift compared to that.

“We should find a closed off area,” you suggested, remembering the many times you were forced to sleep outside whilst on a mission.

“Lead the way.”

He traipsed along behind you, eyes stuck to your surroundings in case of danger, and you didn’t do anything to interfere. You understood he wouldn’t feel safe sleeping on an unknown planet unless he was sure nothing bad was to happen. If he was alone he wouldn’t take precautions. But that was the difference. You stood beside him, untarnished by the tragedy of war. Beautiful like the summer flowers his mother used to pick on Yavin 4.

“The map says it shouldn’t be that much father,” you said in the hopes that it would offer some reprieve from how disappointing this whole mission was.

“That’s fine,” he mumbled, catching a glimpse of how the sunset enshrouded your face, creating a glow across you that nearly punched the breath from his lungs.

If he were with anyone else on this mission he would have been irritated. Beyond that probably. He could have seen himself trying to contact Leia from where you were, asking for a transport back, but he wasn’t with anyone else. He was with you. The person he longed to be around. Who’s smile made him smile, and who’s laugh made him laugh. Rather than looking for a quick escape, he found himself hoping that the mission would take even longer.

“I’m sorry about all this.” Poe felt his heart begin to sink, matching the movement of the sun. “I know it’s taking too much time. I swear I thought I read the map right.”

His pace faltered until he found himself stopping altogether, hand reaching for your arm to turn you. “Why are you apologizing?”

You sighed. “I just…I know how irritating all of this can be.”

“Sunshine—”

“And I know you have other important things to do for the Resistance.” You turned, running a hand across your forehead. “I could have asked Finn to come with me instead. Or anyone else. But I…I like…”

Poe stepped forward so quickly his boot nearly got caught on a small hole in the ground. “You like?”

Another long breath left you, eyes shifting up to finally catch him in your gaze. “I like your company.”

He felt the start of a smirk and tried to tamp it down, but there was no use. “My company huh?”

“Don’t get cocky flyboy. You’re not the worst person to be around.”

He was way past cocky at that point. Your words filled him with a warmth that sent his heart racing so hard it nearly stopped altogether. But you looked nervous. As if the words had been bottled up for so long you felt wary about heaven bringing them out into the open. You were unprepared for his smile, for his hand to reach out and pick a piece of grass out of your hair, only to use that to drag you even closer.

“I know I’m not,” he said softly, grunting when you lightly punched him in the chest. “Just been waiting for you to say it out loud.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass—” Tugging yourself away, you were ready to throw another meaningless curse at him, but Poe had solidified his plans long before you began to admit your feelings.

His lips caught yours in a kiss, effectively silencing you and stopping your movements. You felt a rush of dizziness go up to your head, a soft sound of contentment falling from your mouth into his. And Poe felt his entire being light up. Pulling you closer, he clutched at you tightly, hands sliding to your back and breath washing across your face.

“I’m glad I’m here with you,” he breathed against your cheek, nose nudging against yours—waiting eagerly for you to smile and pulling him back into a searing kiss he longed to drown in.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron #star wars fic #my writing #in love with love weekend🌷

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yashirawr · 2 months

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katsuki, shouto and izuku with a reader who is like giselle from enchanted !!

bnha main three x gn!giselle!reader.

type: headcanons, fluff (& a splash of angst if you squint reaaaally hard)

warnings: kissing, a bit of cursing bc bakugou is here but otherwise so much fluffy fluff ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ reader's quirk is not mentioned per se.

a/n: hi, sweet people !! i've been practicing my english skills to write and expand my vocabulary but i'm still not quite good, so i apologize if you see something misspelled :c i accept criticism !! ok, so, yesterday i saw enchanted and disenchanted and realized how much i wanna be like giselle haha and when i looked for fanfiction with a giselle-like reader i was left heartbroken since i didn't find any TT so i took it upon myself to write something, hope you like this <3

♡ ୭̥ ° bakugo katsuki

this boy is known for showing his hate for sweet things, yet no one – not even him – is able to comprehend why you're the exception.

since the first day of school he can tell you're going to be more annoying than all the other extras. randomly humming and singing, using smooth arm movements as if you came from a fairytale.

you look harmless, a stupid pushover. his only comfort is that you won't get in his way.

or that's what he thinks.

because with time, he starts seeing more of you. his gaze starts to linger whenever you're around, putting careful attention to your actions, your expressions. wide eyes and radiant smile, always trying to spread kindness and love, so genuine; you're like an open book.

katsuki's rough, katsuki's loud, katsuki's explosive.

so imagine his surprise when he realizes with time that the sight of you makes his eyes soften, his chest warm, his guard drop.

he wants to deny it, he wants to deny it very strongly. however, everyone can tell how, little by little, he starts to open up to you.

he lets you be closer, so vivid around him. you can do things that others would get yelled at for trying. when did anyone see somebody getting into bakugou's personal space – whether it is laying on his shoulder or playing with his hair – and leave unharmed? when did anyone see somebody using his stuff and not recieving any kind of ill treatment for doing so?

the two of you start spending time together, much to his dismay because of your classmates' teasing. yet it takes you being in danger during a villain attack for katsuki to realize how deep his feelings are.

oh, no– he's falling in love.

and he goes livid. he might seem like someone who already acts recklessly during combat but that's not the truth at all. the want, the need to take you into his arms and protect you is what leads him to take such impulsive decisions.

don't get him wrong, he knows you can defend yourself; you're just as much of a badass as you are of an optimist, after all.

but it's this side you bring out of him. this soft, tender side.

it drives him crazy.

so, once the horror passes and your class settles into its usual endeavors, he does what he knows best: he tries to push you. he tries to make you leave, to scare you off.

but why aren't you running away?

why are you cradling his face with a gentle, loving touch?

one thing leads to the other and your lips meet in a true love's kiss, as you would say.

after that, katsuki resigns to listening to your rambling about animals and love and flowers–

he's there to give you a reality check when it's needed, anyway.

"get out of that pretty little head of yours, dumbass, there's fucking homework to do"

yeah, he wouldn't have it any other way.

bonus: you're literally a grumpy x sunshine pairing !! it's hilarious to see you two in the common room because katsuki seems to hold back in showing physical affection or any state of flusteredness. you learned not to demand it from him, either, because he always gets red and would hate for anyone else other than you to see it. it's alright, though, because as soon as you're alone he turns into a clingy puppy. good luck trying to get rid of him to do something just as brief as going to the bathroom !!

♡ ୭̥ ° todoroki shouto

shouto's life has never been any sort of fairytale. all that love chitchat... yeah, pretty much false.

but then he meets you, and you're so eager to show him.

so you start sticking to him, following him around. it could look like pestering for some people, but to shouto?

oh, shouto's charmed by you.

it takes him some time. before the sports festival, he couldn't help but give you cold stares and dry replies. of course, your enthusiastic self would take all of that without complaining.

but it is after the event that he starts to open his eyes and contemplate a little more of you. especially after you compliment his quirk and express how happy you are for him, for truly giving his all during the fights and making use of his fire.

another element, you said, that was part of him and needed to be seen. you mentioned how you believed in him, warm smile painted on your lips as you beamed with joy.

there was no way he would get his eyes off of you after that.

although shouto is quiet, his gaze is intense. thankfully you're unaware of such things – trained to being accostumed to stares by your whole life experience – so you can't tell how the next days he's so entranced by you and the way you carry yourself so gracefully.

you see beauty everywhere, often even stopping in your tracks to observe your surroundings. you seem to shine, delighted.

too occupied by twirling around and interacting with everyone around you, you fail to notice how he's softly smiling at the sight.

as time passes, your conversations stop being one-sided. his replies show more interest, it's not only about his gaze anymore but also about the way he accepts all your affections; melting into your touch.

the way he's always there to protect you when villain attacks happen, when anyone looks at you the wrong way or tries to talk to you in as much as a slightly rude tone. the way he comforts you whenever you're sensitive about something, never questioning where did it come from.

you're his top priority.

so when you share a first kiss, he feels his heart pumping so hard it could jump right off his chest. this unknown feeling, leading him to be so attached to you, was love all this time.

you were right about showing him, he figures.

because now holding your hand gives him so much happiness that he now kind of gets why you're so enthusiastic about said concept.

when you go on one of your rambles about it and ask him, "right?" he smiles at you and responds:

"yes, my love, i think i know now"

you smile at him, so widely as you always do, and he leans in to leave a kiss on your forehead.

bonus: when he tells you his family story for the first time, you cry. you cry so much until you feel his strong arms wrap around you. yet shouto, despite trying to comfort you since you were the one crying, feels as if your embrace comforts him. you hug him by the waist, rubbing his back so gently and carefully that it brings tears to his eyes. everyday he feels more enamoured by you.

♡ ୭̥ ° midoriya izuku

you meet for the first time with izuku because of bumping into him during the quirk's test on the first day of class. he falls and you crouch along with him, soft-spokenly apologizing and asking if he's alright.

as he looks up at you, the boy can only think of how you look exactly like an angel.

you best believe our baby broccoli blushes furiously to his ears.

it doesn't take you anything to become friends and when you do he realizes that, despite both of you being pretty positive people, you have very different ways of thinking.

everything to you is magical, wonderful, exciting. izuku learned this from only the first few days of knowing you, and he found it really beautiful and encouraging. it was something to admire you for, and it never failed to impress him the way you would always be open to new opportunities, grateful for every single one you were given.

similarly, nothing to you was ever a problem! so when izuku rambled about his past, his difficulties with his quirk and worries you always found a way to make his point of view shift 180° and move on to positive thoughts.

in a world where he's exposed to so much pressure, you act as a beacon of life that peaks through the darkness.

and so, you're with him every step of the way.

he doesn't even know when his love for you starts blooming, especially since he has such a focus on heroics that doesn't usually let him think about anything else. but when he finds himself dreaming about your bright smile, mumbling as he watches you from afar sing to happy little animals you encountered, blushing to the tips of his ears by only hearing you say his name with so much care and glee–

he realizes too late he's down bad. in fact, he's the last one to realize, since the whole class watches in horror as you two interact so lovingly with each other as almost second nature.

mina has the theory that the two of you are secretly together, but it is obvious for everyone that if you two really were, you would be shouting it to the four winds. that's just who you are, and that's just how they know izuku loves you.

of course, you're the first one to make a move.

you go up to him before class one random morning and ask him if he would like to go out on friday afternoon. he accepts at first, smiling widely at you and you respond with a bubbly "alright then! it's a date!"

his face seemed to turn all shades of red and even go through some other colors before digesting that information.

"a-a d-date with me...?" he lifts a finger, you hum in amusement.

"of course, silly. i'd want no other prince for me but you."

needless to say, it goes amazingly and now the class has to deal with you giving him little pecks on his lips, cheeks and hands as he turns red because of the sudden affection.

bonus: in his notebook page about your quirk he has written a whole analysis of how you and your voice are appealing to animals and what does that have to do with it. he even tried talking about it to you, but your reply was: "i'm not quite sure, but i can only be grateful about them! they are my friends and i'm truly fortunate for their company!"

#。bibi writes 🌷#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #izuku midoriya #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya x reader #todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #deku x reader #todoroki x reader

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tarjapearce · 11 months

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You know the ‘girlfriend effect’ trend going on ? I feel like that would be mama and Miguel. Like Miguel having a horrible style and wearing the most outrageous terrible clothes and not knowing what to do with his hair or not doing any form of facial care routines (you how men are) until he meets our mama and she just helps him develop a style and find what works best for him but doing it in a way that isn’t insulting and belittling but rather caring and loving.

This is Pre-Soccer Family 🤭

Boyfriend Makeover

Ever since MJ's birthday party at Peter's, things had taken a turn between you and Miguel.

Something that had left him with the little seed of seeing you as many times as possible from now on, rooting and blooming within. And in truth, you couldn't wait to see him again as well.

He had this je ne sas quoi that drawn you in like bees to pollen. Like gasoline to a fire, and anything intrinsically related in nature.

When you went home to a little more intimate and girls only after party, you spilled the beans and Jessica slid a couple of bucks in MJ's direction when you were too busy fangirling and gushing like a teenager whose crush just noticed her for the first time ever.

"He tried to kiss me!"

"Miguel?"

"Yes!" You plopped on the bed with a nervous squeal.

"You two kissed?" MJ watched at Jessica eagerly, as if ready to receive more money from the secret bet they had done on who kissed who first.

"Nah, he gotta work for it. But, damn... I was holding back so badly. He looks like a good kisser."

Jessica giggled at your ecstatic state.

"Just kiss him, woman! Pretty sure he'd die on the spot if you do that"

And so you did. The first kiss had been nothing you had expected, A little fumble and clumsy but sweet. He was taken aback when you made the first move, but couldn't complain. He had sandwiched your face in between his big hands and gave you a kiss you only fantasized often, once the movie had finished in TV back on his apartment's living room.

Things just flowed from there. He once grabbed your hand as you ventured through the sea of people in the mall when you were shopping.

"Won't find you later, Chaparrita." (Little one)

"Well, if you're gonna hold my hand, then do it properly."

With an impish smile you entwined your fingers with his, he only flared an airy yet bashful chuckle as his hand tightened it's grip on yours.

----

Even though he had asked you to date him officially, the doubt in people's faces remained. Not that you cared, but seeing him particularly serious after a gathering meant that someone had said something either about you, or the both.

"Do I look awful to you?"

You truly weren't expecting something so trivial to upset him that way, sure there were things he could improve about himself that would just only add him a bonus to his already effortlessly gorgeous looks.

"What?. Who told you that?"

He shrugged and kept driving. His style was something basic and borderline boring, office like all the way. Like if the nerdiness refused to leave his body completely and had rioted big time and now was the ruling sovereign of his closet.

Sweatpants in different tones of gray and black, graphic tees that had endured through college time and other basic things, sneakers and a couple of shoes and boots. The only stylish sort of thing he had was a navy blue suit that ripped as he tried to slid it past his broad shoulders.

"Shit you hear around." He grumbled while driving.

"Well, if you don't like your style we could change it. I could help if you want to, of course."

"What would you change about it?"

"Even though I love when you wear your lab coat and those sweatpants together" You giggled and took his hand briefly, "I'd add more color to your wardrobe and other different textures. You'd look even more handsome with summer colors."

"It's not summer."

"I know, just saying I'd add a bit more color to it."

"Right. We can do that. What about eh, the... things you put on the face. Masks and shit?"

Your face lit up upon the questions he was throwing at you as he gestured to his face.

"What about them?"

"How do you use them?"

In truth, he had overheard some things behind his back. Him looking like a tired creep that always wore the same clothes, them surprised at you tolerating such lack of style, but what had affected him more than what he let on was hearing that you deserved more than just a greasy haired nerd guy in your life. Mostly said by guys that looked straight out of a photo shoot in Italy.

His hair hovered on his shoulders, either tied in a lazy man bun or simply slicked back. Skin rough and oily, a few ingrown hairs in his stubble. Some pimples here and there. As long as he was clean, like his clothes it had been more than enough for him so far. Contrary to you. Ever glowing, stylish and delicious smelling.

Hell, some of his clothes still smelled like you even if he washed them. But now that a new chapter of his life started with none else but you, he wanted to be better. He was already a bit self conscious about his overall looks, and didn't wanna add more to the list of things he already hated about himself, but for some reason you loved.

He wanted to increase the latter. And if a makeover was needed for you to be even more into him, he'd go under them. And what a better chance to do so when you were excited about it. Another excuse to spend the day together, really. Even if it meant to go under layers of things foreign to his skin or be switching into things in a secluded changing room.

"We could meet tomorrow at the mall, buy new clothes and spend the rest of the day pampering ourselves."

"Sounds scary."

"The only thing you gotta be afraid is what the lack of sun block does to the skin."

"I'm aware that cancer can be developed after the constant exposure to high UV lights."

"You're so sexy when you speak like that."

"I'm actually surprised you find me appealing given my lack of-"

"Ah don't ruin it, Miguelín. You know that's not why we got together."

"Still, I wanna be better. Can't look like a tired creep." You swatted his head gently with a deadpan in your eyes.

"Miguel, even if you wore an unicorn onesie, I'd still adore you the same and I'd definitely fuck you afterwards."

He snorted and looked at you with softened eyes.

"But the gesture is highly appreciated. I'm excited really. We get to spend the day together and have fun."

"Shopping day tomorrow then?"

"Of course!"

-----

You visited different stores, even took a mini photo shoot of the outfits you had picked together for him. He wasn't that into flashy or saturated prints. He was more of plain colors, and if something was printed it had to be minimum. Attention seeking was in the least of his priorities.

His confidence seemed to take a higher place the more clothes he tried and new compliments flew out your mouth.

You had him a blushing mess as you asked him to twirl for you only to slap his ass and give a rather thirsty yet loving comment on him. You already made those when he wore your favorite gray sweatpants. Nothing had changed really, except for one outfit that had your cheeks a bright red the more you stared .

Cotton plain navy blue polo shirt that adjusted perfectly on his upper frame, white pants that made a perfect job in accentuating his waist and white leather loafers. It was the winner of the day.

"Never in my life have I been envious of a shirt, until today."

You then went for the skin care. Exfoliants, moisturizers, masks and so many other tools he had the slightest idea they even existed. Even though you explained each and their functions, he had to take a break to let all sink in.

"How many times I must put all this in my face?"

"Twice a day. Morning and night before sleeping."

"Don't get me wrong but, how do you find time to do this?"

"It becomes a discipline over time. And now I can't live without it."

"If something's worth saying, I like the... uh, the scent and feeling that it leaves in your skin. It's nice."

He cleared his throat as you kept adding products to the basket.

"Why, thank you." You kissed his cheek as you both looked over the men section of skincare, "We gotta get you a proper shaving kit also. Razors only damage your skin. Wanna keep your beard?"

"Do you like it?"

"I don't mind it honestly. With or without it you look scrumptious." Your eyebrows wiggled at him and his ears turned a light shade of pink.

"Let's get it then."

----

His eyes were all teary and glossy the more you pulled the peel off mask from his sensitive skin.

"Ow! Ow, ya! Amor, ya!" You laughed silently as you stopped. Hips straddling him, face to face, masked with the pore cleansing charcoal product, smeared in your features.

You had tied his hair carefully to then teach him how to properly clean his face, after a session of much needed steam to relax and open his pores.

Also squeezed some tools as gently as possible to get gunk and black spots out, but even so had him squirming at the beginning, then you had taught him how to properly cleanse his face, and in what order each product had to be applied. He was genuinely interested at the components of each thing and how well they seemed to react on his skin. Secretly taking a picture of him while having his eyes closed.

"Relax Eddie Brock, we're almost done!"

"¿No te duele o qué?" (Does this even hurts for you?)

"We are Venom." You giggled but he just deadpanned,

"You're not funny. You're a psycho."

"After you do this a bunch of times it comes out easier and less painful."

To his horror, you peeled off the mask without much ows and hissing, like he was, cringing at the way the black and elastic thing abandoned your face, coming out in in a piece.

"It would've be a lot less painful but you put it on your eyelids and so damn close to the ears. The first places I told you to not put it on!"

"I don't know about these things-" He hissed as you pulled in a go the last remnants of the mask. A little whimper and a grunt came out later.

"Canija!" You kissed his face softly where the mask had been, trying to soothe the pain as he cussed.

"Please tell me we're done with that"

Instead of words you smooched his lips with a proud smile.

"We're done. Now let's get you some serums."

"You're not putting needles in my face, are you?"

"What? No. It's not that kind of serum. It's like vitamins for your skin in oily or creamy textures."

By the end of the day he had fallen asleep as you used your jade face roller on him, but woke up with a glowy and healthy looking skin. Even some pimples had diminished their redness. His tired face not only was less tired but looked like he had slept well for weeks. No longer oily and breaking out.

Despite the pain, it all had been worth it. But your shocked face upon seeing him well dressed in a cream button shirt, black pants and dress shoes, and a fresh haircut that would turn into his forever look; holding a bouquet of tulips before your door, was absolutely priceless.

Needless to say you didn't make it to the dinner date, too busy ravaging eachother to care.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️#Pre Soccer Family 🕷️🌷#t writes✨#Boyfriend Miguel #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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stxrslut · 6 months

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Rafe x chronicmigraine!reader headcannons

🎀 I feel like he’d be so so in tune with you, waking up one morning while you’re still asleep and he can just see your eyebrows furrowed in premature discomfort.

already getting up and fetching your painkillers, ice pack, sick bowl, snack, and anything else he deems you’ll need. making sure to be quiet while he dims the lights and shuts all 4 blackout curtains.

when you start waking up he’s kneeling right there, already rubbing your temple gently as you let out a cry, “hey hey, I know sweetie, you’re okay.”

🎀 he definitely gives you chocolate syrup after you’ve swallowed a pill cause he knows you hate them and the way they taste.

🎀 Idk about you guys but whenever I have a migraine I will literally be vomiting at random times with no warning.

feel like Rafe has absolutely dad reflexes when it comes to it tho. just randomly appearing with a bowl under your chin, pulling your hair back, instructing you to “open your mouth sweetie. you got it.” as he starts to run a hand up and down your back. and you’re just like ?? how tf did u know.

🎀 cupping the back of your head when he makes you drink water!! and best believe he’s setting a timer every fifteen minutes so he doesn’t forget to remind you!!

🎀 if you ever get a migraine in public and there’s not really away to get you out of there he is mad at the world. snapping at everyone but you.

just finding the most secluded place he can and holding you to his chest so your eyes are covered, big hands over your ears to try and make you as comfortable as possible while you just cry cause you’re in so much pain :( talking to you in that soothing voice he reserves only for his favourite girl.

🎀 he’s definitely getting up at whatever time in the night to get you some warm milk to soothe you. also replacing your heat / ice pack while he’s there.

🎀 he loves you so much. he is the most patient, never complains. he is always always understanding, will always do everything to help you.

you are Rafe Cameron’s soft spot.

#lily writes 🌷#chronicmigraine!reader #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks smut #outer banks

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acid-ixx · 3 months

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ch.1: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three

read until the end for an author's note.

if there was one thing you hated more than the crime-filled streets of gotham, it would be empty promises.

when was the last time they attended your birthday? or your school ceremonies? or any special event that meant for you to be the center of attention?

plot twist, there was no last time, or a time before that or any day that they were there for you.

not your eldest brother, dick, not your dead brother, jason, of course tim wouldn't be there for you, damian's absence is a given, not even your sisters would come, and most especially not your father, bruce wayne.

you never wrote wayne as your last name. in every test, it would always be your mother's last name. in every document that you had to fill, you would violently scratch in the name of your father, wishing it wasn't required at all so you wouldn't have to hang your head in shame everytime someone looks at you incredulously for having the bruce wayne as your father but never once appearing to be with you.

you can't recall a time you had called him your dad, or even considered him as one.

if you could count the times you have seen him in person, it wouldn't even fill ten fingers. even interviewers and paparazzi have more luck in coming across him than you would, his child.

it sucks, really, how despite having nearly sharing the same age as tim, you never once saw him outside of his room. you thought you would've been the closest to him, but the most you have seen him was when you were watching the news with the "new" robin popping up, or worse; when bruce would be seen guiding tim through the paparazzi and not you. alfred had to drag you away from the tv that day because you were already suffering through a panic attack just seeing those two act so close; ripping your hair out just from watching the news wasn't a good way to cope.

you remember being so jealous of him, of how bruce would always spend time with him and not you. it made you wonder, were you special enough? tim is so brilliant, you could admit. and you were, too, having enough comprehensibility as a child to find out they were vigilantes a year or two after living in the manor— but you weren't good enough like tim. you weren't cut out to be like a detective or a fighter.

it was no wonder why bruce chose them over you.

it came to you in the form of talking to tim that had you discovering that no one ever mentions your name inside the house, proving it to be true when tim had hesitated calling your name and even stuttered through pronouncing it. and then he left after finding you were of no use to help him. alfred had to stifle your sobbing after tim left the room, allowing you to cry on his chest whilst you sat beside him.

(name) wayne was so, so lonely.

you would've accepted their absence long ago, but you were a stupid child who needed care and reassurance because your mother left you for good at the age of five. you were too naive into thinking you would receive the same love from your family just like the other kids in elementary would. you were a child who expected too highly of your father, thinking that he would pick you up from school with that picture perfect photographed smile of his and kiss your forehead and tell you that you did a great job at school today.

it was your teachers who would be the one having to walk you up the stage whenever you achieved an award. alfred would be too busy sometimes to attend your school ceremonies because he had to assist bruce with missions. of course, you understood his priorities. after all, he tried his hardest to make you feel less lonely inside the mansion, it wasn't enough but he was there at least.

it was long ago that you stopped praying for your family to attend at least one of your birthdays.

it's ironic, really, for a child to prep and plan for their own celebration just to hope that a single member of their family to even walk by the kitchen and join them in on their already lonesome celebration.

too bad everybody only goes to the kitchen when alfred cooks for them. who would want to taste sadness in a sloppily made birthday cake, right? nobody, not even you would have the appetite to eat your cake with the knowledge that it was you who had to put all the effort to bake it because you didn't want alfred to feel obligated to. knowing nobody would celebrate birthdays with you, save for alfred, it was expected that you started to prefer cupcakes.

because then you wouldn't be scolded for making such a mess.

you never cooked family meals after the incident where nobody came and to not waste food, you had to bring in large containers to bring to school so you could celebrate your birthday there.

it was there that you find more solace in your small group of friends compared to the desolate rooms of the mansion. your family celebrates holidays together as a whole, but you never once attended after that one time where everybody had forgotten to get you a gift for christmas, save for alfred who gave you a bracelet (one that you cherished deeply). you only smiled weakly and hopelessly, sneaking into your room before the family dinner.

it was alfred again who bought you leftovers and sat on your bed for an hour to encourage you that there's still more christmas's to go.

you never believed what he said. not anymore.

there was a period of time where you hated them more than anything, blamed them for everything and became more rebellious, purposely failing tests, fighting your classmates and disrespecting teachers in hopes that for once your father would bat an eye on you. that only resulted in you being taken out of the school and being transferred into another, for a behavioral reform is what alfred stated to you when you annoyed him for answers.

damian started to bully you a bit more harder after that incident, calling you immature and childish, a weakling, an attention seeker. how someone at your age should've known better. you were convinced that he was relishing in the heartbroken glare you gave him, ignoring the way his eyes widened momentarily at your reaction before sneering and walking away.

alfred gently scolded you, but you were too choked up and instead you almost tripped running inside your bedroom, locking yourself in for what seems like hours.

you don't want to remember the immense breakdown you had that evening too, screaming on your blankets and destroying your things and hurting yourself because... because you had lost your old friends for nothing! your caring teachers, your academic progress, everything! every single thing for an ounce of attention! because he didn't have enough energy to come with you to the guidance counselor and he only had you transfer out so you wouldn't ruin the wayne's reputation!

you hate him, you hate bruce fucking wayne so much and you hate clinging onto their empty promises and sorry's to make it up for you. you hate how their promises were never even said directly to you, you hate how alfred was your only source of hope for a medium of communication.

you hate them all.

and worst of all, you hate yourself for drowning in hope. for wishing you were physically stronger so you could at least bond with them through training. for dreaming about a day where they could surprise you and told you they were just testing you and that you actually had worth inside this manor. for praying nightly that they'll smile at you like the heroes you see in tv rather than that of pity.

you wished there was a universe where gotham was safer, more protected with no criminals littering the streets. maybe then they would have more time to notice you crying every night, writing self destructive entries in your diary, sketching what would've been a happy family. they wouldn't have to wear their silly costumes to fight crime and instead would save you from your own demons.

if...

if you were brutally tortured and killed by the joker, or forced to choke on the fear toxin by the scarecrow— hell, even beaten to near death by some random goons; would they have given you a sliver of their love? would they finally look at you and save you from yourself?

because despite your resentment, you would never lie and say you didn't feel blessed that you were thrown to a family of talented individuals.

your drawings of a complete and happy family holding hands together and a diary filled with rants and fantasies of spending time with them proved just that.

you were blessed with them yet cursed at the same time to never reach the same level to be even considered part of their lives.

you were hopeless. you never amounted to anything. you were just, you.

thirteen years have passed by then, and in those years you were proud to say your development as a person, albeit slow, transformed you from a child that succumbed to neglect to an independent person who managed to maintain a comfortable circle of friends, a scholarship for a college far away from gotham, and an apartment of your own (you were a bit in debt due to having to pay for your own because no way in hell would you ask for your father for financial support).

allowance was scarce, your food supplies weren't infinite compared to back when you were living at the wayne manor, and you weren't greeted to michelin star restaurant meals cooked by alfred— but you were content, and that was enough.

though content translated to nightly breakdowns whilst finishing projects or writing essays, the point still stands! at least you had celebrated your eighteenth birthday with drunk smiles and your friends spoiling you to death when you had opened up about your first lonely years of life. everything was going well for you, truly.

you were so, so happy for the nice turn of events. and you wouldn't have made it so far if you hadn't slapped yourself out of the delusion that they actually cared for you.

look at you now! independent and with a life of your own! you'd give yourself a pat in the back.

you hadn't blocked them at all, but their contacts were empty (save for a few desperate messages that date back years ago) and you were fine with that. it's not like tim or bruce or barbara considered you important enough to be stalked. hah, as if!

alfred communicates with you time to time, reminding you to eat a complete meal rather than those one dollar priced noodles that tasted like pure salt. he told you he misses you a lot, you and your annoying, daily rants about life and school. he misses your awkward smile and when you would help him cook whenever the others aren't around. he misses it when you imitate his posh accent when you taste test his food and give commentary about it.

you miss him, too. growing up, you realized just how much effort alfred would exert just to spend a lot of his time on you.

now, he told you that you are still welcome to the manor whenever, and how he cleans your room weekly in case you'll visit him.

whenever you audio call with him, you'd tear up just a bit at the realization that alfred was more of a father figure than your own biological father. because he at least attended your graduation to make up for the other times he was unable to join you.

what's even better was that he gifted you something you had always wanted for your birthday. despite it being delivered to your door rather than him giving it to you face to face (since you had refused to give him your location and him respecting that decision at least), the heartfelt letter he left you was more than enough to let you cling onto pieces of your past. after all, it was him who greeted you by the door when you were first introduced into the family, bruce being too busy with paperwork that day when you were a measly five year old.

you had started to teasingly call him 'alfie' and a few more nickname after that, which results with a chuckle over the phone every time you had come up with a cheesy name for him whenever you get a wee bit irritated at his own way of making fun of you.

if only this was your life years ago, then maybe you wouldn't have been jealous of all your other friends and pushed them away that day, maybe you would learn that sometimes, family comes in the form of the people outside of your house rather than inside.

that reminds you, maybe you should reconnect with your old friends back in elementary and apologized for your sudden explosive behavior.

you were laying on your bed, phone in hand and opened your inst*gram app to stalk through the names you could remember. well... that was what you should've done, if not for the fact that a notification popped up the very moment you pressed on the search bar and you had accidentally opened a chat with your oldest brother, dick.

you would've ignored the desperate messages you have sent him from the past which all varied from inviting him to eat dinner with you or to at least join you to play in an arcade or anything to convince him to talk to you, all of which were unseen, if not for the fact that it was him who sent you a sudden "hey baby bird!!! <333 long time no see! how are you?!" message, alongside a few more replies that spammed through your phone...

oh!

... that was enough to make you sit up and want to hurl.

dick grayson was a man of many talents. the mature eldest child, the ideal good leader despite his anger issues from time to time, and the same guy who set the standards high for the future robins. he is bruce's greatest achievement.

it was safe to say that if not for the support of many, then he would've suffered so many falls and would've never been strong enough to stand up despite the pain and continue his fights. nightwing was what many superheroes strive to be, an image of light in a grove of darkness such as gotham.

so why was it that he felt like he has failed so deeply right now?

inside your room, dick stands with furrowed brows. it felt too clean to look used. your furniture was polished and look untouched, the lights were too bright and the windows were bolted shut. there were no signs of life other than the notebooks and sketchbooks that were neatly tucked on the middle of the bed and the trinkets that scatter through your desk.

dick stalks through the room, careful to not make a noise as he walks over to the closet, opening it and finding nothing.

he bites his lips at the implication that this was probably the second time he visited your room and how it was also the longest time he remained here. compared to his other siblings, you were the one he noticed the least and... now he feels bad for dismissing you.

didn't he promise to take you out for dinner months ago?

damn it, he was way too focused on his mission that night and ended up ditching and forgetting you! oh god, dick facepalmed and clenched his teeth, seething in some air because no fucking way did he actually remember to feed damian's dog, titus, the same day but forgot to take you out for an important event...

it occurred to him that that was the same day you scored a perfect on "the hardest test of my life!" you had bragged to him awkwardly when he wasn't listening nor looking and you, wanting to celebrate what was a small achievement for dick, chose him to spend time with you!

dick had to carefully breath through his mouth then gulp down the shame he feels right now. he- he has no time to focus on the past but rather the present. he has to find out why the hell is your room so lifeless, yeah... then he'll make it up to you today, definitely.

huh?

is it just him, but why does the room seem so small? it looked like it was meant to be for a kid. clearly, there wasn't enough space for a growing individual like you... did bruce not provide you with a bigger bedroom? ah, dick would definitely tell bruce to relocate you to a bigger room, the current one is too small for even a dog in a manor to sleep in.

dick doesn't want to admit it at all, but... he hasn't seen you for the past few months, or not all, really. sure, he had only recently visited the manor since he's bludhaven's vigilante now, but even through his time in gotham he had never seen you other than the times you pulled his sleeves from back when you were a child.

back when you were a child.

how old are you now? you were so small back then, innocent too. he can recall your curious eyes, your chubby cheeks and the way you stutter through your words as you try to talk to him.

you were significantly younger than jason, and was adopted a week before tim was introduced to the family. he remembers you peeking through alfred's back, gleaming with curiousity and whispering to the butler if it was really the dick grayson. he smiled fondly at your dumbfounded expression, the way your mouth shaped into an "ohh," when he was the one who answered that, yes, it was him. then you whispered again if you can take have an autograph from him, to which he chuckled and told alfred that he'll help accompany you to your room.

when your five year old body tried to waddle closer to his body for an ounce of warmth when he had been guiding you up the stairs, that was also the first time he called you baby bird, with the way you coddled him so closely. his hands find itself patting your head, ruffling your hair and grinning as you both make your path through the halls.

he comes to immediately regret leaving you alone after he had introduced you to your room, remembering his duties as a vigilante than that of a brother.

but despite his early memories of you, he wants to see his baby sibling all grown up now.

had it really been years?

when was the last time you ever had a full-on conversation with him?

was there even a time that he had approached you by himself?

he had always called you baby bird after the first time you meet because of the age gap you two shared. the rare times he acknowledges you, you gave him that look filled with such adoration, like you were proud of him for being your older brother. why did he not notice you?

oh, his baby bird...

dick gulped, trying to ease his shivering by sitting on your neatly folded blankets and taking a worn diary in his hand, one at the bottom stack of books. well, if it was a personal diary then maybe you would've hidden it better, right? he figures since it was all placed on the center of the bed like a piece of treasure that... it would be alright to take just a glimpse.

to confirm if you still see him as your favorite brother.

dick's heartbeat spiked, hoping your entries would be filled with, he doesn't know, anything that didn't implicate some sort of hatred for the family, for him. hoping that despite his lack of attention towards you, that there would still be a spark of love for him. if what he thinks was actually true then... he doesn't know what to do with himself.

he flips through the first page, noting how it was bulkier than the others. the paper was filled with glittery decorations, sequence beads and cheap stickers sparkling at every angle the light hits. it was meant to be a design for the 'front cover' of the notebook, colors blended in a cacophony of rainbows and butterflies and flowers beyond the messy calligraphy that merely states "(name)'s diary!"

dick stifles a grin just from skimming through at the amount of mistakes and erasures, clearly written by the the younger version of you; naive to the world and its cruelty. he commends your creativity, his eyes softening at the few doodles that were written on the corners of the pages.

you're just too adorable for your own good, so much so that the thumping in dick's heart beats louder and louder, ears wringing uncomfortable inside your unventilated bedroom. but he just couldn't rip his eyes away from the diary, daydreaming about how proud you must've been when designing your own diary. he could picture your wide eyes, shy and harmless, and your feet kicking back and forth whilst you decorate your stuff.

everything was what he expected it to be on the first few pages of the diary. all your little rants about your daily life, your eargerness to meet your entire family from your father's side, and the hurt you experienced from your mother's sudden abandonment.

he would've skipped through another diary, one that lacked design and color, save for the name plastered on the front, if not for the grim undertones at every end of your entries despite the child-like manner it was written in.

it all started with "i wish to see my father soon and my big brother dick again!", "alfred told me my father can't come to the parent-teacher conference, he says he's in a veryyy important meeting :( but alfred would come!", "dick told me he can't help me with my science project but he promise he'll help me with something else later!" which halfway through the diary, your style fluctuates and lesser effort was exhausted on the writing.

one entry in particular, written on the last page of your diary, shattered a sliver of hope within dick, his breathing momentarily ceased from reading through your sentences; uncharacteristic of you, too mature for someone at the age of ten to write.

"XX/XX/XXXX.

dear diary, it's my tenth birthday today. i celebrated with my friends at school. they told me i always look down whenever it's my birthday. they think that bruce would throw a fancy celebration for me. i tried to hide my laughter from them. it's a really funny joke. i haven't seen him for months. i told dick that he was invited but i don't think he remembers it's my birthday today. alfred told me to come out of my room, he said he cooked my favorite dinner, that he's sorry he got my present late, but i don't want get out of my room. i heard dick is gonna watch a movie with tim later. i don't feel so good, my chest hurts, but i don't want to get out right now.

i'll eat the cupcake tomorrow."

it had been nearly two hours since dick had sat on your bed, eyes dilating whilst reading through your first diary. the cold season had already pricked his skin, but his entire body felt so unnaturally warm, a warmth that scorches him, searing deep into flesh. a lump had form in his throat, accompanying the hellish throbbing of his heart.

"fuck..." he brought his fingers to his head, carefully massaging his forehead but it relieves nothing. he wants to see you right now— he needs to talk to you. god, he has to apologize, he needs to see what you look like right now, needs to know if you're alright.

you're clearly not.

he has to oppress the urge to punch the walls, reminding himself that it's your room he's in and if he damages your already delicate property, then he's proving himself worse than he already is.

he rushes to grab another diary, the one at the top of the pile, skipping to the end of the page.

nothing. all the entries were months ago, all written in vague detail like you were starting to hide secrets. his teeth grinds against each other, frustration seeping through his veins.

he needs to— shit, he needs to find you right now. he needs to find his baby bird and make up for the all bullshit him and his family had done. if you were gone for months, even years; he doesn't even want to think about it.

but how?!

there were no signs of you. anything written your diary, your drawings, the trinkets on your bedside table— they signal no clues whatsoever, all dating back to months, even years. it's not possible at all, for nobody to notice your disappearance. dick would've noticed sooner. he should've noticed sooner. oh, he doesn't even want to think about the dangers that await you outside the mansion. with how naive you were about the outside world, you wouldn't last at all.

his baby bird wouldn't survive gotham's streets, especially not when winter was nearing.

think, grayson, think...

his phone!

he immediately reaches into his pockets to grab his phone, clammy fingers swifly encoding his password and opening his contacts.

your number was the quickest to find, it was the only one without an icon of you and an endearing nickname. he makes a mental note to change that soon and replaced your default name to your nickname.

then, without hesitation, he typed, "hey baby bird!!! <333 long time no see! how are you?!" sending the message without rereading, foot tapping impatiently against the floor as he scrolls through all your previous messages.

messages that he should've replied to with the same level of enthusiasm as you. skimming through the past, unseen texts as your motivation began to dwindle the further he refused to reply back. he promises he'll never make you feel invisible again.

seconds feel like hours for him, as he blows raspberries to pass the time, too concentrated an ounce of a reply to even notice the entirely new presence inside the room.

it's alright to call you, yes? after all, dick just wanted to check in with his baby bird and see if you're doing swell and dandy and... safe without him...!

his thumbs pressed on the call button before he could think through his actions, his other hand runs through his hair, sweat running down his forehead as if he had ran a marathon.

he waited, and waited, and waited until the call beeped and provided its automated response. he calls you again but the line immediately cuts off, he tries to spam you with more messages but they weren't delivered.

you blocked him.

fuck, he messed up big time. he needs to get to the batcave. he needs to find your fucking location before it's too late. dick needs to see you again before he loses it.

but before he could carefully place your sketchbooks back to its rightful place, he sees a silhouette at the corner of his eyes; short figure, arms crossed, and a sneer on his eyes already tells him who it was.

damian wayne.

he forgot to train with damian today.

but it doesn't matter, damian has to see it for himself— what made dick so disheveled, so delirious. damian has to finally see just how much of a wonderful sibling you are.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: this was 4,600+ words and it drained the energy out of me. it was supposed to be posted tomorrow but i was too motivated !! i'm also quite proud of this chapter. it was a pain characterizing dick grayson and the reader. i really hope this is as good as the prequel because it's 3am right now and writing dick's part was a pain in the ass ^^' as always, please do comment or send asks if you like it for quicker updates!!!

taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @alishii, @ruiroku, @okaybutfullhomo, @trasshy-artist, @obsessedwithromance, @deadinside-09, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa (shoutout to her specifically because i got motivated from their comment!)

#🌷... yael's works #🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere dick grayson #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere batboys #yandere robin #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #platonic yandere #i hope for this to blow up again like the other one #is it obvious that i like writing angst

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