#im considering maybe breath of the bear
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hyuniemyunie · 6 months ago
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sleeping with hyun-ju ☆ミ
gn!reader x cho hyun-ju
sfw
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(ФωФ): no tws! just pure fluff and cuddling<3 established relationships, after the game, FUCK THAT PLACE.
id love to hear your requests if you have any!
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hyun-ju was just..staring at the elevator floor, her eyes zoned out and her mind elsewhere. she was nervous.
it was her first time going to a partners house after starting her transition, and she didnt know how to act. what was she supposed to do? how was she supposed to act..?
her thoughts were interrupted by you nudging your pinky finger against hers, looking up at her with an amused smile
"you okay?"
she shook her head a little, her eyes focusing on you. she nodded, a stiff smile on her face
"yeah, yeah..im okay."
you huffed out a laugh, taking her hand in yours. you lifted her hand up, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the back of it.
"you got any bad sleeping habits i should know about?"
hyun-ju let out a soft chuckle as you kissed her hand, a pleasant shiver running down her spine at the gentle touch. she stepped outside the elevator, the doors sliding closed behind them with a soft whoosh. she considered your question, a thoughtful look on her face.
"i tend to sleep lightly, so sudden movements might startle me. and im used to having a strict schedule, so I might be a bit... particular about meal times and bedtimes at first."
she paused, thinking for a moment longer. "oh, and I have a habit of waking up early, like ridiculously early. like, before the sun early. I'll try to keep the noise down, but no promises."
hyun-ju glance down the hallway before turning back to you with a soft smile. you returned it, reaching into your pocket to take out your keys. you unlocked the door with a soft "click!", stepping inside. you leaned down, taking your shoes off and kicking them..somewhere, the shoes didnt really matter when you had a beautiful woman at your place.
hyun-ju followed you into the apartment, shrugging off her beige jacket and draping it over the back of the couch. she took a moment to look around, taking in the comfortable, lived-in feel of the space. it was so different from the places she was used to, but somehow, it felt welcoming and warm.
"its nice," she said softly, meaning it. she kicked off her own shoes and set them neatly by the door, unlike you. as she stepped further into the apartment, she noticed the soft lighting, the plush furniture, the personal touches scattered throughout.
hyun-ju felt a flicker of nerves again, suddenly self-conscious about her own appearance and background. she was a far cry from the typical girlfriend material you probably dated. but as she looked around the cozy space, she felt a sense of belonging begin to take root, maybe you'll both make it work out..
"so, wheres your room?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light and casual. "i should probably... unpack my bag." she gestured vaguely to the duffel bag slung over her shoulder, kinda the only possession she had left after everything else had been taken from her.
as you were in the middle of taking your jacket off, you pointed towards your room, tilting your head towards it.
hyun-ju nodded, making her way down the hallway. she paused outside the door you had indicated, taking a deep breath before pushing it open. the room was simply furnished, with a bed, a dresser, and a small desk, and your own little personal touches to it. it was clean and tidy, just how she liked it.
she set her bag down on the bed and unzipped it, pulling out the single change of clothes. It was a simple outfit, a soft pastel blue sweater and a pair of comfortable pants. nothing fancy, but warm and practical for a night in.
as she changed out of her jeans and black shirt, hyun-ju caught sight of herself in the mirror on the closet door. she paused, looking at her reflection critically. she could still see the remnants of her military bearing, the lean muscle and the hard edges. but there was a softness to her now too, a vulnerability that she had never allowed herself to show before. all the compliments youve showered her with before flooded her mind, making her feel..a little better about herself.
with a small sigh, she finished dressing and made her way back out to the living room. she found you sprawled out on the couch, looking incredibly comfortable and at home. for a moment, hyun-ju felt a pang of..envy. she had never had a space like this, a place where she could truly relax and be herself.
but as she approached the couch, she felt a sense of belonging begin to take hold. this was your space, but somehow, it felt like it could be hers too. at least for tonight.
"is this okay?" she asked softly, hovering uncertainly by the couch. "im not sure ive ever..done this before." she bit her lip, suddenly feeling shy and unsure.
"of course its okay!" you answered happily, scooting over to make room for hyun-ju, letting her sit down next to you. you took a moment to look at her face, the light of the tv illuminating her already beautiful face. was it possible for someone to look this gorgeous? if not, hyun-ju made it possible.
she hesitated for a moment before sinking down onto the couch beside you, the soft cushions molding to her body in a way that made her sigh with reluctant pleasure. as you pulled her closer, resting your head on her shoulder, she felt a wave of warmth wash over her, a sense of rightness that made her heart ache.
she wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you close as she settled back against the couch. It was a foreign sensation, being this close to someone, allowing herself to be vulnerable. but with you, it felt... natural. comfortable.
you let out a soft sigh, leaning into her touch. "this is nice.."
"Mm, it is," hyun-ju murmured softly, tilting her head to rest atop yours as you two watched the drama unfold on the tv screen. the dialogue washed over her, the korean words familiar but the context new. she found herself more focused on the feeling of your body pressed against her own, the gentle rise and fall of your breath, the softness of your hair beneath her cheek.
as the episode went on, hyun-ju felt her eyelids growing heavy. the events of the past few days caught up with her, the adrenaline that had been keeping her going fading away. she blinked slowly, fighting to stay awake, but it was a losing battle.
"love.." she murmured, her voice slurring slightly with exhaustion. "i think...i think I might fall asleep." she knew she should keep watching, should stay awake and keep you company. but her body had other plans.
she tightened her arm around your waist, holding you close as the TV flickered in front of them. "dont let me... snore too loud," she mumbled, already feeling herself drifting off, safe and warm in your embrace.
she let out a soft, sleepy murmur as you pressed a tender kiss to her cheek. she felt herself being maneuvered, her head coming to rest on the softness of your lower stomach as she was pulled to lay partially on top of you.
she nuzzled instinctively into the warmth of your stomach, her eyelids drooping as she felt your fingers threading gently through her short hair. the touch was soothing, comforting, and it made hyun-ju feel a rush of emotions she couldnt quite name. she had never been cared for like this before, never been held and comforted with such tenderness.
"Mm... thank you," she whispered, her voice muffled against your shirt. she knew her words were slurred, her mind hazy with exhaustion and a strange, warm feeling she couldn't quite comprehend
ss sleep claimed her, hyun-ju let herself sink into the comfort of your embrace, feeling safe and wanted in a way she never had before. she stirred softly as she felt herself being gently lifted and moved, her head coming to rest on a soft, warm pillow, aka your chest. she nuzzled instinctively into the comfortable surface, her sleep-addled brain registering the change in position but not quite waking her. as she drifted on the edge of sleep, she felt strong arms wrap around her, holding her close and pulling her snug against a warm, soft body.
in her half-asleep state, hyun-ju's instincts took over, and she melted into the embrace, her own arms coming up to wrap around the person holding her. she burrowed deeper into the comforting warmth, a soft sigh of contentment escaping her lips. it was a peaceful, safe feeling.
as the night deepened and the world outside fell silent, hyun-ju and her partner remained entwined on the couch, their breathing falling into a slow, synchronized rhythm. the soft glow of the TV cast a gentle, flickering light over their still forms, illuminating the intimate embrace they shared.
hyun-ju's head rested on the crook of your shoulder, her face nestled against your neck. her arm lay draped across your stomach, while your arm wrapped protectively around hyun-ju's waist, holding her close. you fit together like two puzzle pieces, bodies molding to each other as if they were made to be this way.
as the hours passed, the first light of dawn began to creep in through the windows, casting a soft, warm glow over the sleeping couple. it illuminated the gentle rise and fall of their chests, the soft, peaceful expressions on their faces. in sleep, they looked younger, softer, the weight of the traumatic experiences they had endured lifted from their shoulders.
hyun-ju stirred first, her brow furrowing slightly as she surfaced from the deep sleep that had claimed her. she blinked slowly, her eyes adjusting to the soft morning light. as she became more aware of her surroundings, she realized she was still cradled in her partners arms, her head resting on a soft chest, their legs tangled together beneath a soft blanket that had been draped over them sometime during the night.
a soft, sleepy smile tugged at the corners of hyun-ju's mouth as she took in the peaceful, content expression on your face. you looked so beautiful, so serene in sleep.
'"nnh.." you stirred slightly, groaning in your sleep as you let out some incoherent sleepy mumbles, pulling hyun-ju closer, needing to feel her close, needing to know that this was actually real.
her heart melted at the sleepy, incoherent mumblings. she felt your arms tighten around her, strong and secure, pulling her even closer until she was nestled completely against your body.
sensing your need for comfort and closeness even in sleep, hyun-ju tightened her own grip around your waist, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to the sensitive skin just below your ear. she nuzzled her nose against your neck, breathing in the comforting, familiar scent of your sleep-warmed skin.
"Shh, it's okay," she murmured softly, her voice low and soothing. "I've got you, sweetheart. you're safe with me." she started to gently rub your back in slow, soothing circles, trying to ease any lingering tension or unease.
hyun-ju knew she should likely wake you, but seeing you so peaceful and content, she couldn't bring herself to disturb her. Instead, she settled in more comfortably, letting her own eyes drift shut as she matched her breathing to yours once more.
"mmh..hyun-juuu.."
you mumbled in your sleep, reaching out for her.
she smiled softly at the sleepy mumble of her name. "Shh, I'm here," hyun-ju whispered, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as she spoke. she tightened her embrace, holding you even closer, molding your bodies together until not an inch of space remained between you.
hyun-ju's hand continued its gentle, soothing path along your back, now tracing random patterns on the soft fabric of her shirt. she wanted to comfort, to reassure, to let you know that you were safe and protected in her arms.
"rest now, my love," she murmured, the endearment slipping from her lips like a soft sigh. "I'll be right here when you wake, I promise." she peppered gentle kisses along your jawline, your cheek, your forehead, the tip of your nose..
hyun-ju's fingers drifted up to comb gently through the sleep-tousled hair at your nape, savoring the silky texture. she marveled at the trust you placed in her, to sleep so deeply, so completely in her arms. It was a gift, a precious treasure that hyun-ju vowed to cherish and protect.
drawing the blanket more snugly around them, hyun-ju settled in, her own eyes growing heavy once more. she let herself drift, not quite sleeping but not quite awake, content to simply hold and be held, to bask in the warmth and closeness of the moment.
If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.
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stefanmikaleson1864 · 3 months ago
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Just a little Touch
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A/N: Please Bear with me y'all this is my first one in a while so im getting my feet wet again i really hope you all like it and enjoy it ! :)
Tag: @lostinfandoms-butitsokay
Frank Langdon X Reader
Y/N’s POV
Working as a paramedic was something that was kind of sprung on you. You weren’t really sure what you wanted to do with your life.
Then one day while you were stuck at community college you stumbled in a job fair. 
Your now cap was there and he called you over.
He didn’t have a lot of people at his table and he told you he wanted to look like he was being cool and had a following which made you laugh.
He had a table full of medical supplies and fire equipment. It drew you in right away. 
You guys talked for what seemed like hours and it really intrigued you. The thought of being to help someone else in their worst moments. Trying everything you can to make it a little more better. 
You loved your work family they had quickly become more than just a work family and more like a regular family.
They were there for you in every important moment and even every hard moment. 
They always gave you the best advice to and some of it you took and some of it you ignored.
Like one of the pieces you ignored was to not get involved with the Dr’s and the workers in the Emergency rooms. The people you worked with everyday. 
The day you walked into the ER and saw a bright eye brown haired intern on his very first day you knew it was going to be all over for you then. He looked like someone who belonged on TV and not the ER. 
He was running around like a chicken with his head cut off. He looked sheet white and he couldn’t make heads or tails of anything. You couldn;t help but just sit there and watch him your eyes were just glued. 
He looked over at you and saw you watching him and smirked over at you
. Damn you got caught is what you immediately thought. When he walked over to you, your stomach felt like a damn zoo it was rumbling all around. 
He walked over and walked right over to your face and just stood right there and followed your eyes with his. 
He just smiled up at you and your cheeks were bloodshot red. You wanted to just run away but your feet were glued to the ground. 
“Hi I’m Frank and who are you” He asked in a cocky voice. 
“I’m Y/N nice to meet you mmm let me guess your the new nurse” You said trying to get under skin. 
Which it clearly worked because he looked slightly annoyed at you. 
“And you, your cleary the new house maid” He said looking up and down at your obvious Paramedic Uniform. 
“I clean up nice but no sadly not the house maid nothing against one of the backbones of the hospital” You said smiling. 
“How nice do you clean up” Frank said in a amusing tone. 
“Wouldn’t you like to find out pretty boy” You said snapping back. 
 “Maybe I would” he said giving you a sly smile. 
**
That conversation was 4 years ago time really does have a crazy way of flying by so fast. By the end of both your crazy long shift that day he asked you out to celebrate his first day which you gladly accepted. 
It was a instant connection between the two of you. Everything just made sense and the world had a way of just standing still when you were with him.
He asked you to marry him a year to the date of you two meeting. 
The bar he rented out and he decorated it and played nothing but your favorite songs he really had a romantic side one that he kept hidden from others.
Working together most people would have found it hard and stressful considering the high stakes jobs the two of you had.
But you guys were like a machine what happened at work stayed there and you guys could always check in on each other throughout the day. 
Which helped more than you both knew. It would always give you that check back in that moment of i can breathe again. 
That’s not to say it could just as much take you away from your work to.
The way you both worried about each other when it was extra hard. A day like today which at first seemed like a normal day. 
But you knew you should never think like that before. It was ending your shift and you were ready to go home.
You were tired and you wanted nothing but take out and to take a long bath maybe alone maybe with your husband if you were nice. 
But life had other plans when you got a mass alert there was a shooter at the pitt fest. Everyone knew then it was all hand on deck and one hell of a night. 
You went straight into work mode not thinking about anything else just clearing your head and putting your entire energy into that call. 
You and your partner had worked together for years so you knew you knew you had a good support to help. 
Once you reached there it was a disaster. Fans screaming and running and workers everywhere.
The other first responders took off full steam ahead. You just dove in feet first.
Hours had passed and you didn’t realize it. You were up to your knees in traumas and just soaked in blood.
Other ambulances had gone to transport but you all stayed on the scene. Knowing you were needed there. 
You didn’t even get a moment to step away and breathe; it was just like an assembly line. One after another, an end not in sight you thought. 
****
Frank’s day was hectic from the start. With a new batch of interns and a med students
. He was busy with the non stop hectic life of the ER. He did get to see you twice today which made it easier. 
He always loved the sight of you the slight touch of his arm or even being able to lay eyes on you was plenty good enough for him. 
His day was also winding down to a close and he was grateful. His headspace was pretty much the same as yours a nice easy relaxing night. 
But then just like that fate stepped in and crushed it.
When he heard about the incoming Mass casualty event his first thought was why, and how where they going to keep up.
But once those thoughts went away he thought about you. 
He knew you were going to be there of course you were. It was your job but still the pit of his stomach couldn’t settle and his nerves felt like it was going to burst out of every part of his body. 
He took a moment while everyone was getting ready to step into the quiet of the breakroom.
He got some coffee and sat down. He pulled out his phone buzzing already with the news of what happened. 
Nothing from you which made him even more worried. He pulled up your name and sent a “ I love you” simple but with all the heart and love behind it. 
Before he put his phone away he just looked at a picture of the two of you. It was his lock screen and it was taken at the beach.
The two of you that you made him take glowing in the sun and not a care in the world. He would give anything to be there with you in that moment. 
Just as he put his phone away the first trauma rolled through and he quickly got up like a solider heading into battle. 
Just like your night hours had gone by but unlike you he noticed. He kept looking over at the door and just hoped and prayed he would get a quick look at you.
But nothing and every hour that had gone by he felt more and more anxious and sick. 
His co workers noticed and they wanted nothing more than to comfort him but they couldn’t right now and they all wanted to , they all wanted to check in with their families but they also knew his situation was different. 
They knew you were in an active dangerous situation right where the shooter was.
They couldn’t even begin to imagine the extra burden to carry along with everything else they were already dealing with. 
Frank was in between at the patients at the moment. Just got done with one and was headed over to the next one. 
He took the moment to step around with the hopes he would catch you or at least anyone who worked with you. 
He walked all around the ER and couldn't even make it outside without being called back by someone. He was hopeful everytime he did his laps.
But nothing and the pitt in his stomach just kept growing and the tiny little fire in his brain and he couldn’t put it out. 
He just wanted to run to the locker room and grab his stuff and go to you. Every muscle in his body was pushing and pulling him that way.
DR Robby just happened to look up at the young resident. He wanted nothing to go over there and comfort him. He was running all around sweat dripping.
He was also shaking a little dog who got caught in the rain
Franks face was also showing everything he was feeling. Fear, Sadness, Loss and worried shitless.
He knew nothing he would say would make this better though and that’s what killed him. He was supposed to the person everyone could rely on.
He also even debated on sending him home but he could't it was rude it was wrong but he needed the help he could't afford to loose him.
The best thing he thought was the power of distraction it was the only weapon he had.
“Frank we got a incoming over here he’s got a GSW to the chest, bleeding and he’s gonna need a crank you got it” Robby yelled out. 
Frank shook his head a moment and then looked over at robby and just shook his head yes and dove right into the patient. 
Frank knew though that no news was also the best news. That if you weren’t being rolled in here on a stretcher or he wasn’t being pulled aside by a man in a white collar shirt you were okay. 
That’s what he told himself that’s the only thing that was given him a tiny piece of comfort.
He desperately right now just craved your touch. He would give anything to hear your voice in the hall with a upcoming trauma.
A touch of the arm to let him you were there. 
He pushed all that down that for the moment. His patients needed him, his team needed him and he needed the best possible DR for them. 
Frank tried he really did, he though the was doing an okay job at hiding everything.
He was knee deep into patients and he just went one after another. But now it was gearing towards the end. 
The fire in his brain though it just kept growing along with the pitt in his stomach. It felt like it was over taking him. Like he couldn’t breathe. 
The weight was just to much for the young resident to bare and he didn’t know how he was going to keep from breaking. 
They finally said no more traumas and everyone felt like they could finally breathe for the first time since the shift began.
Frank was sitting at the Nurses station his head in his arms just needing to close his eyes for a moment. 
He didn’t even notice Dana had walked over and placed a hand on his back and started rubbing small circles on his back. 
“Hey you okay need to sit down a sandwich maybe” Dana asked in her usual mothering tone. 
“No No im good” Frank said. Not even being able to lift his head up the thought seemed like it might kill him at the moment. 
Dana walked in front of him and she knew what was really going on but she didn’t wanna bring it up and upset him.
She knew he just needed a moment and he would be okay. Of course he would and you would be to. 
“Hey why don’t you get some fresh air Nurses orders” She said smiling at him and gently pushing him off the nurses station. 
He took the hint and got up taking him arms and stretching them behind his head.  He just sighed and walked away she was right he always was. 
He walked out and didn’t say anything to anyone. It felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders
. At one point he didn’t even know if he was going to make it outside. 
Once he did the fresh air felt amazing. Just being able to feel the fresh air in his lungs and his skin was free was from the hospitals cold demeanor. 
He sat down on the bench his feet were crying out in pain. He didn’t even care though, he just kept scanning the parking lot.
Every time a ambulance pulled up and it wasn’t you it was like someone was taking his heart and stomping all over it. 
He kept checking his phone to. Nothing which now was getting him worried.
No more traumas no more cases why couldn’t you have taken a moment to text or call. So he took the initiative and called and of course nothing. 
He didn’t even notice his hands were shaking until he brought down the phone from his face.
He felt a overwhelming simulation in his body and he just had to get up and walk around. His whole body was just shaking and he couldn’t stop it. 
Everyone around him was just passing him by all running on nothing if it was any other day the strangers outside would have stopped him but today it looked normal. 
He couldn’t even take it anymore it was just thoughts and thoughts passing through his brain. Certainly the worst had happened and they were backed up in letting him know. 
He thought about what he wanted to say to you one more time. He loved you,
he was grateful for you. He wanted to smell your signature scent, he wanted to kiss you softly and even hard. 
Running all around he thought he was going to pass out he could feel it.
His knees were shaky and he couldn’t breathe and he was still shaking all over
. He had no choice but to just sit on the ground and try and center himself. 
His head was in his lap and he was just self soothing at this point. The noises around him had gone silent. 
When suddenly a warm familiar hand touched him. It instantly pulled him back to earth and he didn’t even need to look up and see who it was. 
He lifted his head up so fast he stood immediately on his feet. His blue eyes matching yours and he couldn’t even control the weight of his body. 
He just grabbed on to you and pulled you in tight. He didn’t say a word he barely looked at you. He crushed you but you either could care less. 
For the first time in 4 hours he took his first breath all nigh and god it felt good. 
“I love you , I love you”. Was all Frank kept saying it was all he could get out. 
God he needed this , God he needed you
**
Y/N POV
God the night was a absolute mess.
No matter what you did you couldn’t even take a moment to process everything that was happening.
It was like you were in override mode. You thanked god for adrenaline because otherwise you would be dead right now. 
You were assigned to stay on the ground it was all hands there. There was some ambulances 
That was taking patients but there was an overflow of people who could be treated and the scene was too unstable to move right away. 
The hours were long but fast it felt like they were also just flying by to. You thought about Frank nonstop.
You were wondering how he was handling the Pitt.  You knew the trauma he was dealing with and you needed him so damn bad. 
Just to be able to hear his voice and to touch him. Your body longed for him and it was like you were missing a big part of yourself. 
Finally after 4 hours of being there you all were released to go. You asked for your partner to drop you off at the hospital.
Your anxiety through the roof the whole time. Not knowing how frank would be. 
When the ambo pulled up you saw him sitting on the ground shaking and your entire heart broke.
You barely came to a complete stop when you opened up the door and ran out. 
You ran over to him placing a hand on his arm. He didn’t even look up he just jumped so fast which scared you a bit but then he pulled you in tight.
He was holding you so close that if he let go you were going to be gone. 
You didn’t say anything though you both needed it so you nestled right back into him.
The strong scent of the hospital just laid all over him like a coat and it usually bothered you but today it didn’t. 
You both stayed like that for a while.
When you pulled apart he didn’t waste any time before he leaned in and kissed you hard.
You felt the butterflies entering your stomach for the first time all day you felt at peace. 
After the kiss broke you placed your hand on his face. And he leaned into it 
“Hey come on let’s go home im starved and i need a long bath” You said. 
“How about Chinese and we soak and eat at the same damn time” He said 
“There is no where else I would rather be” You said. 
You walked into the parking lot over to his car and waited for him to gather his stuff and come out. 
When he did he ran over to the car like he was afraid he was going to be dragged back in. 
You both got in and he instantly grabbed your hand and squeezed it. He speed off fast and you melted into the seat closing your eyes. 
His touch soothed you so much the one you craved all day was finally here. God you loved him and you were so grateful on nights like these you had him. 
He thought was thinking the same damn thoughts about you. How lucky was he to have you by his side days like this he needed his best friend. 
You both knew how lucky you were to be going home together to be able to say those words to feel this moment. 
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cheriecelestial · 4 months ago
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IM CURRENTLY READING ANGEL AND OMGGG IM SO OBSSESSED WITH UR WRITING IT IS AMAZING!!! <333
I saw your requests are open and was wondering if you could do a oneshot of AK!Jason Todd (Arkham Knight) x reader, maybe like if reader tried escaping or running to Batman for protection and you knowww he'd be so pissed off maybe Jason saying smth like "BATMAN?! He can't protect you! He never protected me and left me for dead! Only I can protect you! Don't you understand?!" Also with some Yandere themes I just feel like there is sooo much potential with that version of JT because he's so crazy and unhinged and hot!!
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Only me
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pairing *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ Yandere!AK x fem!reader
disclaimer *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ angst. dubcon. noncon kissing. implied noncon. captivity. SA. mindbreak. canon typical violence. yandere themes. darker themes. minor character death. jason is a meanie.
a/n *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ I wasn’t sure if I wanted to make this a smut or not and ultimately decided not to. But anon thank you for the request. I had so much fun writing it and I hope you like it. And like always Comment, Reblog and Like (☆≧▽^)
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Day after day, night after night, Y/N sat in the dimly lit bedroom, the cold, unyielding chain around her ankle a constant reminder of her captivity. The metal links clinked softly as she tugged at them, over and over, her hands raw and her spirit weary but unbroken. She had been patient, calculating, biding her time as she worked the chain against the bedpost, each pull weakening the metal until, finally, one link gave way. It was a small victory, but it was enough. Freedom was no longer an abstract dream—it was a plan, and she was ready to see it through.
Every afternoon, like clockwork, the maid arrived at exactly 2 p.m. and left at 5 p.m. sharp. Y/N had observed her routine for weeks, memorizing every detail. The woman was quiet, efficient, and—most importantly—unsuspecting. She was Y/N's only lifeline to the outside world, her only chance at escape. A pang of guilt flickered in Y/N's chest at the thought of what she was about to do, but it was quickly smothered by the memory of everything she had endured.
The Arkham Knight—Jason Todd—had taken everything from her. After slaughtering every man who had worked for her father, Black Mask, Jason had decided that she, Black Mask's daughter, would be his ultimate prize. His spoils of war. His perfect accessory. His toy. His pet. To Y/N, it was a fate worse than death. She had become his refuge, the place he returned to every night, forcing her to bear the weight of his emotions in whatever way he chose to express them. She hated it—hated his touch, hated the way his eyes shifted from longing to unbridled rage in an instant, hated him. All of him.
But now, she had a plan. And she wasn't going to let anything—or anyone—stop her.
As the clock struck 2 p.m., the door creaked open, and the maid stepped inside, her presence as quiet and unassuming as always. Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself. 
“Can you get me a glass of water?” she asked softly, her eyes downcast. She made sure to appear as broken and helpless as possible, knowing it would tug at the maid’s sympathy. The woman looked at her with pity but said nothing. Jason had made it clear that no one was allowed to speak to her, to even look at her. Like a possessive, jealous child, he would kill anyone who dared to lay eyes on what he considered “his.”
But Y/N wasn't his. Not anymore.
The maid nodded silently and turned to fetch the water. Y/N's heart raced as she watched her go. This was it. Her chance to escape. To reclaim her life.
And she wasn't going to waste it.
The maid reached for the plastic jug and glass—plastic, because after Y/N had nicked Jason with a shard of glass during one of their first nights together, he'd made sure to remove anything she could weaponize. The moment the maid handed her the glass, Y/N lunged. Her hands wrapped around the woman's throat, cutting off any chance of a scream. The maid thrashed, her eyes wide with panic, but Y/N held firm, her grip unrelenting until the woman's struggles weakened, and she slumped to the floor, dead.
Y/N's chest heaved as she released the maid, her hands trembling but her resolve steady. She turned to the chain around her ankle, tugging at it with all her strength. The weakened link finally gave way, the metal snapping with a sharp clink. After two hundred and forty-two days of captivity of enduring Jason's nightly torment, she was free.
She moved quickly, stripping the maid of her clothes and replacing them with her own. Guilt flickered in her chest as she pulled on the maid's uniform, but it was nothing compared to the relief of shedding the outfits Jason had chosen for her—garish, revealing things she would never have worn by choice. Once the maid was dressed in her place, Y/N dragged the deceased woman onto the bed, tucking her under the covers to buy herself more time.
At exactly five o'clock, Y/N slipped out of the room, her footsteps light and deliberate as she tip-toed through the penthouse. She rarely saw much of it; Jason only unchained her when he felt like it, and even then, he never let her out of his sight. But she remembered the layout well enough. The living room, the hallway, the door—it was all etched into her mind from the few times she'd been allowed to wander.
One thing worked in her favor: the maid was always brought in and out with a black bag over her head, a precaution to keep the penthouse's location a secret. Y/N used that very loophole to her advantage. She waited by the door, her heart pounding, until she heard the familiar footsteps of the guard approaching.
The man didn’t recognize her. Why would he? Low-level goons were only tasked with ensuring the “woman in the penthouse” didn’t escape. They had no idea what she looked like. Without a word, the guard placed the bag over her head and led her out. Y/N’s nerves were alight with fear and anticipation as she was guided into a car, the bag blocking her vision but not her determination.
As the car started moving, her mind raced. What if Jason had already figured it out? He was no fool, and it was only a matter of time before he realized she was gone. But for now, she was free. And she wasn't going to waste this chance.
The car rumbled along the uneven streets of Gotham, each bump and turn making Y/N's heart race faster. The black bag over her head was suffocating, but she forced herself to stay calm, to focus on the sounds around her. The hum of the engine, the occasional honk of a horn, the distant wail of a siren—it all told her one thing: she was getting farther away from the penthouse. Farther away from him.
But freedom wasn't guaranteed yet. Jason was relentless, and if he discovered her escape before she could disappear into the chaos of Gotham, he would stop at nothing to find her. She had to move quickly, to vanish before he even realized she was gone.
The car came to a stop, and Y/N's breath hitched. She heard the driver's door open and close, followed by footsteps approaching her side. The door swung open, and a gruff voice said, “Out.”
She obeyed, stepping out of the car with her hands clenched into fists to keep them from shaking. The guard gripped her arm, leading her forward. She could hear the faint sound of voices, the clatter of dishes, the hum of a busy street. They were in the city, somewhere public. This was her chance.
The guard stopped walking, and Y/N felt him fumbling with something—likely the bag over her head. She didn't wait for him to remove it. In one swift motion, she drove her elbow into his stomach, catching him off guard. He grunted, his grip on her arm loosening, and she twisted free, tearing the bag off her head.
The sudden burst of light blinded her for a moment, but she didn't stop. She ran, weaving through the crowded sidewalk, her heart pounding in her ears. Behind her, she heard the guard shouting, but she didn't look back. She couldn't.
Gotham's streets were a maze of chaos, and Y/N used that to her advantage. She ducked into an alley, then another, her feet carrying her as far and as fast as they could. She didn't know where she was going, only that she needed to get away.
Finally, she stumbled into a dimly lit subway station, her chest heaving as she leaned against a wall to catch her breath. She glanced around, her eyes darting from face to face, searching for any sign of Jason or his men. But there was nothing. Just the usual crowd of Gothamites, oblivious to her plight.
She bought a ticket with the few dollars she'd taken from the maid's pocket and boarded the next train, sinking into a seat as the doors closed behind her. The train lurched forward, and for the first time in months, Y/N allowed herself to breathe.
But the relief was short-lived. Jason would come for her. She knew he would. He had made it clear that she belonged to him, and he wasn't the type to let go of what he considered his.
As the train hurtled through the dark tunnels, Y/N's thoughts spiraled. She needed a plan, and fast. She had to disappear, to become someone Jason could never find. But how? Gotham was his city, his kingdom, and his eyes were everywhere. There was no corner of this place he didn't control, no shadow deep enough to hide her forever.
She got off at the next station, closer to the heart of the city. She knew exactly where she had to go. There was only one person who could protect her now, only one man who stood a chance against Jason Todd.
The Batman.
Jason's father. His mentor. His greatest enemy.
Y/N had been around Jason long enough to know the depth of his hatred for the Dark Knight. It was personal, all-consuming, and violent. As the daughter of a villain, she didn't expect much sympathy from Batman. But as a victim of Jason's obsession? Maybe, just maybe, he'd listen. She knew Batman was already hunting the Arkham Knight. If she could reach him, if she could buy herself enough time, she might finally escape this nightmare for good.
She stepped off the subway platform and hurried toward the exit, her heart pounding with every step. The rain outside was relentless, pouring down in sheets, turning the Gotham skyline into a blur of neon and shadows. She barely noticed. Her focus was singular: get to the GCPD. Get to Gordon. Get to Batman.
But then she heard it—a gruff voice cutting through the noise of the rain.
“There! Stop her!”
Jason's men. They'd found her.
Panic surged through her veins as she broke into a run, her feet slamming against the slick pavement. The rain soaked through her clothes, the cold biting into her skin, but she didn't care. She couldn't stop. Not now. Not when she was so close.
Her breath came in ragged gasps, her heart hammering in her chest. She could feel him—Jason. His presence was like a shadow, always looming, always watching. Even when he wasn't there, she could feel the weight of his gaze, the burning intensity of his obsession.
But she couldn't let him win. Not this time.
Through the downpour, she saw it: the Bat-Signal, its iconic symbol glowing faintly against the stormy sky. It was her beacon, her North Star. She knew what it meant. Batman was here. He was close.
The GCPD headquarters loomed in the distance, its lights cutting through the rain-soaked darkness. If she could just reach Commissioner Gordon, if she could just get to Batman, maybe—maybe—she'd have a chance. She pushed herself harder, her legs burning, her lungs screaming for air. Every step felt like a battle, but she couldn't stop. She was so close.
But then, a shadow stepped into her path.
“Hey there, missy,” a voice drawled, low and sleazy. From the silhouette, she knew it wasn't him—not Jason. Just some low-life thug, the kind who wouldn't have dared to even glance in her direction when her father was alive. Her face twisted in disgust, but she didn't have time for this. She turned to run the other way, only to find another man blocking her escape.
“Ain’t she gorgeous?” the second one sneered, his voice dripping with malice.
“Stay back!” Y/N warned, raising her fists. Her father had kept her sheltered, pristine, and untouched by the filth of Gotham's streets—not out of love, but because she was his most prized possession, a bargaining chip to be sold to the highest bidder. But she was done being someone's property. Despite her sheltered upbringing, she had taught herself basic self-defense. She wasn't going down without a fight.
“Don’t even try, sugar,” the first man said, pulling a pocketknife from his jacket. Y/N's heart sank. Her only option was to run. She turned to bolt, but the second man grabbed her wrist, his grip like iron. She squirmed and kicked, but it was no use.
The one with the knife stepped closer, the blade glinting in the dim light. “Would be a waste to kill her right away,” he said, his voice sickeningly casual. “Not every day you see a face this pretty on the streets.”
“Damn straight,” the other agreed, his breath hot and foul against her ear. “I can think of a thing or two to do with her.”
“No! Help! Please, somebody help!” Y/N screamed, her voice raw with desperation.
“Shut up!” the man barked, clamping a hand over her mouth. Without thinking, Y/N bit down hard, her teeth sinking into his palm. He yelped and jerked his hand away, his face contorted with rage. “You stupid cunt!” he snarled, slapping her across the face.
The blow sent her reeling, her ears ringing and her vision swimming. She felt their hands on her, rough and invasive, and heard the sickening sound of fabric tearing as the knife sliced through her dress. Her stomach churned. Is this how I die?
Her eyes drifted upward, toward the sky. The Bat-Signal burned bright, closer than ever. The GCPD was just around the block. The realization sparked something in her—a surge of adrenaline, a flicker of hope.
With a sudden burst of strength, she twisted free from the man's grip and drove her fist into his face. It wasn't a perfect hit, but it was enough to make him stagger. She spun around and kicked the other man between the legs, her blow weaker than she wanted but still effective. He doubled over with a grunt, giving her the precious seconds she needed.
She didn't look back. She ran, her legs carrying her as fast as they could, her heart pounding in her chest. The GCPD was so close. Batman was so close.
But they were quick to catch her, and relentless in their pursuit. She felt the fabric of her dress tear further, the cold air biting at her exposed skin. "No, please!" she sobbed, her voice breaking as she begged, their hands groping and violating every inch of her they could reach. Desperation clawed at her chest, and before she could stop herself, words spilled from her lips—words she never thought she'd say.
“Jason! Help me, please!”
It was a plea born of sheer terror, a cry for the one person who, despite his flaws, his violence, his obsession, had always ensured she was safe. When she was locked away in his penthouse, she knew no harm could touch her. It was a twisted kind of security, one that now felt like a curse.
And then, as if summoned by her cry, a gunshot rang out.
The bullet tore through the air, striking the first man in the head. Blood and brain matter sprayed across Y/N's face, and she froze, a mix of horror and relief washing over her. In the chaos of fighting for her life, she hadn't noticed that Jason's men, who had been chasing her since the subway station, had suddenly vanished. Now, she knew why.
The Arkham Knight dropped from a nearby rooftop, landing with practiced ease. The gravel crunched under his boots as he strode toward her, his expression unreadable behind the cold, menacing mask. Y/N stood paralyzed, her breath caught in her throat, as the second man scrambled backward, his voice trembling with fear.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t know she was—”
Another gunshot cut him off mid-sentence, the bullet finding its mark with deadly precision. His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
Jason didn't even flinch. He holstered his gun, his focus entirely on Y/N. The rain poured down around them, the sound of it mingling with the distant hum of the city. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, his silence more terrifying than any words.
Y/N stood there, drenched and shaking, her face streaked with blood and tears. She didn't know whether to feel relief or dread. Jason had saved her, but at what cost? She was back in his grasp, and she knew there would be no escaping him again.
The Arkham Knight stopped just inches from her, his masked face tilting slightly as he studied her. Then, without a word, he reached out, his gloved hand brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. The gesture was almost tender, but it sent a shiver down her spine.
“You called for me,” he said finally, his voice low and rough, almost disbelieving. “You called for me.”
Y/N couldn't speak. She didn't know what to say. She had called for him, and he had come. But now, as he stood there, his presence suffocating and his grip on her life tightening once more, she realized the truth: there was no escaping him.
Jason Todd.
The Arkham Knight.
He had warned her. He had told her not to run, not to try to leave him. But she had. She had foolishly thought she could escape, that she could find safety with Batman. She had thought the Dark Knight could protect her.
Tears began to fall, streaming down her face, and soon they turned into uncontrollable sobs. Jason pulled her into an embrace, his arms wrapping around her like a vice and pulled his helmet off with a click. It was the kind of embrace a hero might give his damsel in distress after saving her. But Jason was no hero. He was a villain, through and through.
“Please,” she choked out, her voice trembling. “Please, Jason. Let me go.”
She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears, her body shivering from the cold and the shock. She was barely clothed, vulnerable, and broken. For a moment, Jason almost felt a flicker of pity for her. Almost.
“You broke the rules, sweetheart,” he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “But I’ll admit, I’m impressed. Killing the maid so ruthlessly. You almost pulled it off.”
Y/N froze at the venom in his tone, the raw anger that seemed to radiate from him. His grip on her arm tightened painfully, and she winced, but she refused to cry out. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
“You think running to Batman will save you? Batman can't protect you,” Jason snarled, his face inches from hers. His eyes burned with a fury that made her stomach churn. “He can't protect anyone! He left me for dead, remember? He doesn't care about you. He doesn't love you. Not like I do.”
His words cut through her like a knife, each one a reminder of the twisted reality she was trapped in. She wanted to argue, to scream, to fight back, but she was too exhausted, too broken.
“You don't love me,” her voice was barely audible over the sound of the rain. “This isn't love. This is obsession.”
For a moment, Jason just stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he slammed her against the alley wall, his body pressing into hers, trapping her. His hands framed her face, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the anger burning in his eyes.
“Then what is love, Y/N?” he demanded. “Tell me.”
Y/N hesitated. Love? She had never truly known it. Her life had been a series of transactions—lust, respect, fear. She had never fallen in love, never been loved in return. “I don't know,” she admitted, her fists involuntarily tightening around the fabric of his suit.
“You don't get it, do you?” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “I'm the only one who can protect you. The only one who will. Batman? He's a myth. A symbol. But me? I'm real. I'm here. And I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Even if it means locking you away where no one can ever hurt you again.”
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “Jason, please..”
“No,” he interrupted, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. “No more running. No more trying to leave me. You're mine. And I'm not letting you go. Not ever.”
Before she could respond, his lips crashed down on hers, the kiss fierce and possessive. She tried to push him away, but he only deepened the kiss, his hands sliding down to her waist, pulling her closer. She could feel the desperation in his touch, the raw, unrelenting fear of losing her that drove him to this madness.
When he finally pulled away, they were both breathless, the air between them heavy with tension. He rested his forehead against hers, his breathing ragged, his presence overwhelming.
“Now let me show you my love,” his voice a low, dangerous promise that sent a shiver down her spine.
His grip tightened on her waist, the rough material of his gloves digging into her exposed skin. Y/N's breath hitched as Jason's hands moved with purpose, his touch both possessive and deliberate. The rain continued to pour around them, soaking through what little clothing she had left, but she barely noticed. All she could focus on was the heat of his body, the way his presence seemed to swallow her whole.
Jason used his knee to part her legs, his movements deliberate and possessive.
“Jason, please...” she whispered, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Shhh, it's okay, darling,” he murmured against her lips, his voice deceptively soft, almost soothing. But there was no mistaking the intensity in his touch, the unyielding determination in his actions.
He wasn't asking. He wasn't giving her a choice.
“Let me go...” she spoke again, her voice more broken than ever, but he silenced her with another kiss, this one deeper, more demanding. His hands roamed her body, mapping every curve as if he were memorizing her, claiming her.
She wanted to resist, to push him away, but her body betrayed her. The heat of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, the way he seemed to know exactly how to unravel her—it was too much. She felt herself weakening, her resolve crumbling under the weight of his obsession.
“Don't you understand?” he growled against her lips, leaving no room for argument, “I can't lose you. Not you too.”
She didn't know what to say. She didn't know if there was anything she could say. Because deep down, a part of she understood. A part of her saw the broken man beneath the armor, the boy who had been abandoned and left to die. The boy who had to claw his way back to life.
And as much as she wanted to hate him, as much as she wanted to run, she couldn't. Because now she knew, no matter how far she went, he would always find her.
“Mine. Mine to protect. Mine to keep. Mine to love.”
His words sent a shiver down her spine, but before she could resist any further, he lifted her effortlessly, pressing her back against the cold, wet wall of the alley. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her in place as he leaned in, his breath hot against her neck.
“You called for me,” he repeated, his lips brushing against her skin. “You called for me. That means something, Y/N. It means you know deep down that I'm the only one who can keep you safe. The only one who truly understands you.”
Her breath hitched, her mind racing. She wanted to argue, to deny it, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, another thought surfaced, sharp and accusing.
“You heard me,” she said, feeling the stab of betrayal in her stomach. “That means you were watching. You let them touch me. Why?”
Jason stilled, his grip on her tightening almost imperceptibly. For a moment, he said nothing, his face unreadable. Then, slowly, he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze.
“I wanted you to see,” he said, his voice low and steady, each word deliberate, cutting through the rain and the chaos like a blade. “What happens when you try to leave me. What happens when you think you don't need me. Those men?” He gestured vaguely toward the bodies lying motionless in the alley, his tone dripping with disdain. “They're nothing. They're ants. But out there, in the world you're so desperate to run back to, there are far worse things waiting for you. Monsters who won't hesitate to tear you apart. And I needed you to understand that. To see it for yourself.”
He had let it happen. He had watched from the shadows, waited, and only stepped in when she called for him. It was a cruel, calculated lesson, one designed to break her, to shatter any illusion she had of freedom. He wanted her to see, to feel, that he was her only refuge—no matter how twisted that refuge might be.
“You're a monster,” she whispered, her voice breaking, the words barely audible over the sound of the rain.
Jason's lips curled into a faint, almost sad smile, as if her accusation amused him in some dark, twisted way. “Maybe,” he admitted, his voice softer now, almost tender. “But I'm your monster. And I'll burn this whole city to the ground before I let anyone else touch you.”
His words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding, leaving no room for doubt. He meant every word. He would destroy everything—and everyone—who stood between them.
Y/N's resistance crumbled completely. She stared past him, her eyes locking onto the faint glow of the Bat-Signal in the distance. The symbol of hope, of justice, of everything she had once believed in. But now, it felt like a cruel joke, a taunt. The hope it represented drained out of her, replaced by a hollow ache that settled deep in her chest.
Jason's lips trailed down her neck, his touch alternating between gentle and rough, as if he couldn't decide whether to cherish her or punish her for trying to leave. His hands gripped her tighter, pulling her closer, as if he could erase the distance between them—both physical and emotional.
“You're not going anywhere,” he said, his voice firm, final. “Not ever again. I'm the one for you sweetheart. Only me.”
She wanted to deny it, to tell him he was wrong, to scream that she would never stop fighting him. But the words wouldn't come. Instead, she clung to him, her fingers digging into the fabric of his suit as if he were the only thing keeping her grounded.
And maybe he was.
Y/N closed her eyes, the tears mixing with the rain on her face like a silent requiem for the freedom she would never know again. Her heart was torn between the instinct to fight and the crushing weight of resignation. Jason Todd was no longer just a man—he was a tempest, a force of nature that would devour everything in its path until she was all that remained, bound to him in a way that defied reason.
And as much as she wanted to hate him, as much as she wanted to scream and claw her way out of his grasp, a part of her recognized the truth she could no longer ignore—in his own fractured, jagged way, he loved her.
It was a love that defied sanity, a love that would raze cities and shatter worlds to keep her close. It was a love that terrified her, not because it was cruel, but because it was real.
And in the end, that was the most devastating truth of all.
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tag: @swamiiyasssss
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atimelessheaven · 2 months ago
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Can you please do a fic where Paige and azzi have a teen daughter
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LETTER TO MOM
a pazzi series.
hey guysss! sorry ive been lacking on writing recently:/ finals, and life in general are kicking my ass. but here is this! i’ve decided to turn this request into a little series. as of now im not sure if it will be 2 or 3 parts… maybe more? idk. we will see!
fluff ◡̈
warning: mixed pov’s, probably some grammar errors (please ignore them!), and a mediocre plot. that’s all i think! let me know if i missed any.
enjoy!
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backstory: iris was born in 2027. the year of this story is 2041- making iris 14, paige 37, azzi 36. they have been in the league for 16, and 15 years. paige is still on the wings, azzi plays for the valkyries.
iris pov:
today has been tough.
i woke up late. i slipped in the shower. leaving my ankle all swollen, it hurts to move it. i made a bad grade on my science test, and one of my coaches yelled at me for being “lazy” i was in pain, and i just felt exhausted.
i am exhausted.
i feel like i can’t move.
it feels like i can’t even breath without someone getting mad at me.
life has just been hard.
to top it off i miss my mom.
i could never, and would never admit how much it really effects me. she’d feel bad, and i don’t want to put that burden on her.
since mom, and mama have jobs on two different sides of the country they decided it would be best if i stayed with mama during season, in san francisco.
it’s the longest five months of my life.
sure i see mom every now and then during the season, but it’s just not the same.
sometimes i just want to give her a hug.
have her hold me when i’m sad.
come home from school and tell her all about my day, every little detail.
or when i have something really exciting to tell her, i can’t see her live reaction unless it’s facetime.
that is not the same. not even close.
it’s all just caught up to me. right about now i just want my mom to hold me.
since that’s not possible right now, i’ve resorted to the next best thing-
crying myself to sleep wearing moms hoodie that smells like her, holding my build a bear that has her voice in it.
sure it might seem dramatic, she hasn’t died or anything, but if you were in my shoes, you’d understand.
azzi pov:
iris has been home from school for three hours now, and she’s been awfully quiet.
i mean the girl hasn’t even came into the kitchen to get a snack.
something is up with my kid.
that child is ravenous after school, i need to find out what’s wrong a-s-a-p as possible (hehehehe)
i walk to her room and knock, getting no response.
typically i’d just leave her alone but i just feel off, she’s acting off. so i go in.
when i walk in i immediately just freeze mid stride into her room to access the scene in front of me.
my sweet iris girl asleep wearing her moms hoodie, holding her comfort bear with my wife’s voice inside, a wet pillow and tear stained cheeks.
welp.. my mama heart just shattered.
i walked over and gave her a forehead kiss, taking a picture to send my wife. then left her room.
it’s about 9:00 for paige, but she still responds to the picture i sent her relatively fast considering i know she’s tired after a long day of training and would be going to sleep very soon.
from paige- “well i am now officially going to join her in the crying myself to sleep club. i miss my girls. so sad my sweet baby is struggling with me being away. i feel awful.”
right as i go to reply i hear iris headed into the kitchen where i am, so i quickly respond with a “we miss you too.”
“hi babe, how was school today?” i say as i catch iris having to physically hold her up while she completely melted into me.
“i don’t wanna talk about it.” iris mumbles, voice shakey.
“that’s okay, i’m here when you’re ready. you’ll never be forced to talk when you don’t wanna, but i do need you to recognize mom, and i are always here to listen when you’re ready, okay?”
“i know, i just..” iris began but decided against it, not wanting to be a burden.
“you just what?” azzi said encouraging her to finish her statement.
“i don’t want to be the bitchy teen who complains and makes life difficult when i’m so privileged. i mean i know you and mom have demanding jobs, and that it provides so many cool opportunities, but it’s also really hard sometimes. it’s hard having to travel around to a ton of places back to back, missing school, missing friends, missing the normalcy of a regular quiet life. on the flip side when im left behind with friends while yall go to games i feel lonely, not because i don’t like hanging out with my friends but because i miss my parents. you guys are my comfort people, i couldn’t do it without you. having mom be so far away for so long really takes a toll on me. and i promise you are enough and im not meaning you aren’t, but i just miss mom. i thought it would get easier as i got older having to be away from her, but if anything i think it’s gotten harder. i need my mom. i miss my mom. oh and also my day was just awful in general, and i was thinking about all of that and so i just starting spiraling.” iris says pretty quickly, tears showing in her eyes once again. azzi can tell this has been eating at her for a while.
“okay so how about we go get ready for bed, you can lay with me and we can finish this conversation alright?” azzi says pulling away from iris making her stand on her own.
“okay, but can we not tell mom?” iris asks quietly as they start walking towards azzi’s room.
azzi froze. “well uhm i might have taken a picture of you asleep earlier so she already knows sorta what’s going through your head. if you don’t want to explain it to her i’m not going to force you, but i think she’d like to know what’s going on completely if you’re willing to let her in on it. can i ask why you don’t want to tell her?”
“well i love mom, but i know how she is. you do too. she’s going to feel guilty when it’s not even her fault and i don’t wanna stress her out. iris says looking at azzi
“you make a compelling case, but i want to offer my counter argument. as much as that is true, i think she would feel worse if you didn’t tell her what was bothering you, and she found out it was for her sake. that would make her feel more terrible. also we both know she’s going to ask you about that picture i sent, you can’t lie then. she reads you too well. you aren’t slick enough for that.” azzi says laughing thinking of all the times her daughter has given herself away with her terrible lying skills. let’s just say she shouldn’t play poker, or ever commit a crime.
she laughs along with her mom, “you’re right, i should tell her. i just don’t know how i should. i don’t want her to see me cry, or worse she cries. i’d feel so bad if mom cried over this. mama what do i do?” iris says suddenly panicking at the thought of making her mom cry.
“okay calm down, you don’t have to explain it directly to her, you could write her a letter like you used to do as a kid, i think that would cheer her up. very sentimental, and nostalgic. perfect. she’ll love it, and you don’t have to show any emotions you don’t want to, just write what you want.”
“wait that’s a great idea. i can be like so vulnerable, and she’ll never have to see me cry, and i won’t have to see her initial reaction.” iris says feeling so confident in this idea.
“okay okay, now let’s for real get ready for bed, go lay in my room and watch a movie. how does that sound?” azzi says as she starts walking to her room grabbing iris’ hand to take her along with her.
*about ten minutes later they’re both snuggled up in bed watching tangled*
“oh iris look, paige is facetiming us!” azzi says excitedly as she answers the call, while pausing the movie.
“hi my babies! i miss you guys so much!” paige immediately says as the call connects. “omg iris i saw the cutest dog earlier and forgot to send you the picture i took, i just knew you’d love it.” is how paige started their nightly catch up of their day conversation.
“awww i wanna see the puppy, i wish i could’ve been there to see it in person.” iris replies, lighting up at the idea of a cute puppy. “mom can i get a puppy?”
“absolutely not. iris that would be a disaster. poor thing would either have to travel a lot, or stay behind with a pet sitter. not plausible sadly at the moment. maybe in the future! we can add it to our family bucket list!” paige says letting iris down as gently as possible, but trying to cheer her up in the moment.
“ugh. that’s so unfair, i would take it on walks and everything.” iris says grumbling. azzi just rolls her eyes staying out of the conversation.
“so what were you two up to before i called?” paige says curiously.
“TANGLED!” azzi, and iris respond at the same time.
“i should’ve known, you guys literally don’t know of any other movies.” paige says laughing a little at their excitement
“that’s so not true, we also watch zootopia.” iris responds in a matter of fact tone, like paige had just offended her with the movie comment. she’s very well versed in her disney movies.
“and hamilton.” azzi says agreeing with iris.
“okay, okay i get it. now i say you guys start it over, so we can press play at the same time and watch together!” paige suggests
*approximately 47 minutes into the movie iris was out cold.*
“paige, look.” azzi said getting her attention, turning the phone to show iris sound asleep on her shoulder.
“aww our little baby isn’t so little anymore is she?” paige says smiling at the sight of her peaceful daughter.
“i know. it’s crazy to think that just ten years ago all she cared about was if she could eat candy for breakfast, and wear her princess dresses in public, now she’s worried about our feelings, and feels like she’s carrying the world on her shoulders. i just wish i could save her from everything, especially her own mind sometimes.” azzi whispered to paige, while lovingly looking down at iris, gently rubbing her back.
“i love her just how she is, but i know she’s way too caring for this world. she has so much empathy. i don’t ever want it to hurt her. i just want to protect her from everything. she’s my baby.” paige says agreeing with azzi. “what happened earlier today? why was our baby so sad?” paige asks
“it has to do with her caring too much about our feelings over her own. she didn’t want me to tell you, but i can say you’ll find out very soon.” azzi says.
very soon.
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nymphomatique · 9 months ago
Text
special affair
dbf!miguel o’hara x fem!reader
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art credit: _insomniac_red_ on ig. pictures are for mood setting, reader has no specific race or physical descriptions.
cw: a lil angsty, this is just shameless smut im sorry guys i don’t know what came over me, daddy kink, dbf!miguel <3, unspecified age gap but reader is legal, rough sex, squirting, unprotected sex, miguel is not a good man, conflicted reader, creampie, lowkey breeding kink, degrading language, choking/breath play, face slapping, spitting, mentions of oral (m), overstimulation, crying/dacryphillia, pubic hair grinding? lmao idk, reader is alluded to being in sub space. not proofread lol. 18+ only.
wc: ~1.5k
❤︎ an: hi my loves!! this is a sorta part two to this drabble, but can be read as a stand alone one shot. tbh i wrote this w my pussy.. i’m ovulating rn i’m so ashamed of myself 😔 nevertheless, enjoy! if you guys want more don’t hesitate to lmk!!
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from that first night he fucked you from behind, you knew you strayed too far from the status quo in your life, you’re at the point of no return. that night, when he finished pounding you from behind and defiling you further with his seed all over your back and ass, you had laid in that position— spent and on your stomach- for the rest of the night, silently sobbing. you had betrayed your father, that much you were aware of the day you started rubbing at yourself meekly in the dead of the night thinking about his best friend.
you had long come to terms with that guilt, accepting whatever image of a burning inferno there is in the afterlife. what you cannot come to terms with, is the fact that he- miguel- had actually fucked you, indulged in what you considered your own taboo thoughts, ripping them from page and making your crude thoughts a sick reality. the worst part of this all is that amidst it all, the mental beratement, the nights you spent crying, the sick feeling the memories of miguel’s cock stretching you absolutely thin, showing you a climax like no other— you want to hate yourself for it, for being weak. for being such a bad girl. but you didn’t know why your body decided to betray your brain, the physical craving for the older man’s body possessing you whole. you can’t bear this feeling, holding it up inside you and trying to keep it at bay. fuck- you needed to talk to someone, you had to, even if it’s the last person you want to speak to.
nevertheless, you end up two houses down, sniffling and heaving in the dead of the night, knocking the door as hard as your trembling hands would let you. the door swings open and at the sight of him you keen, your body aching at the sight of the burly muscles covered in sun kissed skin. dark brown hair streaked with grey at the temples. a slight five o’clock shadow, he must not have shaved this morning. and then you look into those eyes, swallowing you up whole and you begin to tear up again. miguel is silent, leaning against the door with messy hair, glazed eyes and clad in boxers, and boxers only. fuck, you shouldn’t have come here.
“I-.. Miguel, it hurts,” you sob quietly, aflame with shame and embarrassment at how little resolve you had. He grabs your face with his warm hands and you’re trembling now, ready for him. your lips ghost for a moment before he breathes out. “i’m not a good man, sweetheart. if you don’t say no, i’m gonna break you.” he sounds sincere with his words and his eyes go stern. you wish you had some self of self control, or maybe having better discernment. but the only thing you say to him only confirms what you already knew about yourself; you’re a terrible fucking person. 
“violate me.”
your lips are smashed against each other, tongues dancing and it feels so good to be in his embrace again. your tears fall down your cheeks, meeting at the junction of your mouths in a pool of saliva. miguel groans and you know why, remembering what he had said to you the last time.
“i like when you cry.”
you’re grabbed up at the hips, legs wrapped around a thick torso, pressed up against a firm chest and a heavy cock. the moments up to the bedroom are cloudy, drunk off his lips against yours. you come to slightly when cold plush sheets hit your back and a pair of lips leave yours. you whine, yearning for his touch again. he looks down at you, bringing your right foot to his mouth, he licks lightly up the sole- kissing the ball of your foot before he leans down, caging your between his elbows, face to face.
“you gonna be good for your daddy?” he asks softly, kissing between the bridge of your nose once. 
“y-yes,” you breathe out with a slow nod. 
“mmm. gonna let me violate this tight little body too?” he asks, still soft in tone and you think you’re gonna go crazy by the end of the night. “yes, daddy,” you murmur, lost in his eyes. 
“sick fucking little girl. but that’s how i like it,” he chuckles, kissing you softly before getting up stripping you bare.
“letting your daddy undress you like a good girl. so obedient f’me,” he coos at you, touching you softly and you’re almost in tears. you need him. and you let it be known. a lone tear falls down your cheek and you mewl, “n-need you to make it better down there, daddy.”
his large hand engulfs you cheek, thumb wiping your tear softly before squishing your face, putting his tear stained thumb in your mouth. “you think you’re a big girl now, hmm? telling your daddy what to do?” you look up at him teary eyed, suckling his thick finger.
“you take what i give you, when i give it to you.” he squeezes you cheek a little harder before softly slapping your cheek and you squeak at the contact. a rough laugh leaves miguel’s mouth at your reaction. “you have no idea how bad i’m gonna treat you, baby.”
you’re non verbal at this point, mouth agape and leaking saliva down your jaw seeping into the sheets and the junction of your neck and chest. a hand slaps your cheek again, you’ve lost how many that is now. “i fucked you stupid already?” miguel laughs, hard thrusts sending you flying up the bed. his hands on your hips bring you down back to him each time, poking you right in that sweet spot in your pussy. you’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve head, body wracked and numb with pleasure. throat hoarse from the near-violent throat fuck he gave you.
a glob of spit hits your forehead and you groan a bit. the one thing you’re sure of is that you look a goddamned mess. a crude picture of the activity you’ve been partaking in for the past two hours. a hand leaves your hip to wrap around your neck and squeeze roughly, making you gasp for air, your body finally moving.
“there we go, got you moving now. thought i fucked you to sleep for a second.” 
your eyes are glossy, at the lack of air and building pressure. your hand meekly wraps around his wrist as he fucks into you. you know you shouldn’t like the way he toys with you like this, waking the line of torment and pleasure with no care in the world. but you do. and you can’t deny it anymore.
“you’re tightening up on me again. you gonna cum for me again?” miguel asks you, and he laughs after knowing you can’t even answer him. “sick little girl. you like it when i choke you? make you feel weak? worthless?” 
it’s barely audible, but the moan you let out vibrates in your neck and miguel can feel it with the hand pressed against your throat. he throws his head back with a groan. “nasty, naughty girl. fuck baby, gonna cum in that little pussy.”
you’re almost there, and quite frankly impressed that you haven’t fully passed out yet. your head feels light, and you begin to tremble violently, gushing out spurts of liquid as your head falls to the side. if this is hell, you’re not so sure you could give this up for heaven. your eyes close and you feel so close to falling asleep when he removes his hand from your neck, grabbing your head by the nape of your neck, craning you up to where you can see his thick cock slip and slide between your thighs. you groan at the image. 
“need you awake to see me cum in you, don’t i?” miguel groans. “you like watching me fuck you, like letting me dirty you.”
 his tuft of black pubic hair rubs against yours as his thrusts become increasingly sporadic and intense, and it has you trembling at the stimulation it gives your clit. you weakly squirt each time his pelvis brushes against your clit, your body letting you know you have only so much left in you before you’re drained empty.
“fuck, love it when you wet the bed. my pissy little girl. daddy loves the messes you make.” he’s nearly breathless and you pray he’s going to cum in the next minute, the ache in your neck and dull sensation in your pussy building slowly.
“c-cum in me. wanna give you a baby,” you moan, looking up from the fast thrusts and into miguel’s eyes. 
“fuck! so n-naughty, baby. gonna give me another one, huh? fucking take it, then.” with a final thrust, you feel the warmth of his cum shoot and blossom somewhere deep within you. you moan weakly, one final weak spurt of squirt coming out of you. miguel pulls out and you watch him look at the mess he made of you and your pussy, covered in spit, cum and the beginnings of handprint bruises blossoming on your hips and ass from how hard he gripped and spanked you. 
you can feel his cum slowly trickle out of you, and your body feels like it’s no longer your own. after so many orgasms, your limbs are on fire, and you can do nothing but breathe and weakly murmur a “d-daddy..” while your eyes close.
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tags: @realhotgirlshitah @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @maxiethestrange
message me to be removed!
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boysluts · 6 months ago
Note
The way you write sanji with a reader who's in love with him but accepts their fate to not be loved by him like that- its AMAZING and keeps punching me in the heart, sooo for the request
Hurt/comfort love confession with sanji🙏 the reader is talking to another crewmate they trust, they talk about their feelings for sanji and how its tearing them apart. And Sanji overhears it all, maybe it reinforce his own wants with the reader
Okay, I'm so sorry this is SO beyond delayed,,
Heh... I hope this'll be okay, I feel my writing is a tad rusty nowadays, so excuse me!
This is not proofread..so I apologise immensely!
I hope this is actually somewhat enjoyable, I'm fuckin scrambling my brains out
I feel as if this is utterly messy and all over the place,, so please bear with me!
I feel it's rather slow-burn,, and considered just posting this and making a second part, but I might post it as one..not sure if that's better or worse
And I'm so sorry for how long this has taken, and how long it is taking..I promise you I'm trying my best mls 🙏
Okay I know I've said it but this is so rubbish I'm so sorry guys
Sanji calls you Cherie,, cutesy loving nickname, it's already pretty shit but the ending is..more..shit??? Read at your own risk 🙏
AUGHHH AGAIN IM SO SORRY FOR HOW DELAYED THIS IS!! I HOPR ITS KINDA ENJOYABLE! MWAUH MWAUH THANK YOU <3
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_ _
You and the crew just finished breakfast,,
God it is always such a delight eating meals prepared by your Angel of a cook, anything he makes quite literally tastes like heaven itself.
No matter what he makes, he always makes it taste so good, fuck, he looks so good.
Its a bit shameful how often you find yourself thinking of him, staring at him, stealing glances, you can't help it. He's perfect in your eyes.
Needless to say, you've for sure caught on to your own feelings, you were self aware you had somewhat of a schoolgirl crush on Sanji, and boy did you figure out crushing on a man that treats all women like deities would drain your soul.
It was easy to fall for the treatment and affection, but you liked him beyond that, you love him beyond that, you've been trying so hard to get to know him, and you feel you've made progress, progress in getting to know him, it lights up your world knowing things about him no women, or man would've cared to know or really ask about...
But of course, seeing him flirt with others has taken its toll, of course you know he means well, and nothing much by it, and fuck. Why are you so jealous??? It's not like he's your man, he can do whatever pleases him.
But it sucks, your heart yearns for him, it yearns for him so bad, you hate how such an angelic man has the key to your heart, but doesn't seem to care. Now, unfortunately the crew has noticed your mood has been..quite down
It wasn't much of a surprise they'd noticed though, you were quite literally a ball of fucking sunshine, you matched or..tried to match everyone's energy, but to you, it was quite startling when you were sitting alone on deck, and robin approached you..or rather seemed to have appeared next to you
You didn't notice her presence, for awhile actually, until she cleared her throat, this startled you slightly, and you broke your staring at Sanji being scolded by Nami for doing whatever he was..
"Ahh..! Robin..hi- I didn't see you there" you say, politely, and flashing her a quick smile
She's silent for awhile.
.
.
.
"You don't have to do that, we can tell something is on your mind" she offers, sharing a neutral expression, you nod and sigh "Robin.." You start and you feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to continue "this is so stupid, God. I." You falter and hold your knees up to your chest Robin places a hand on your shoulder and offers a small smile
"It's not stupid, you can talk about it, if you'd like. No pressure, but I hope you know I'm willing to lend my ears anytime" and you silently thank her
She smiles
"Would..would you consider me stupid, for well.." You take a deep breath "I really like him." "Robin- I really, I really like him. I think. I think I love him."
She isn't surprised, she's seen how at a time your mood really depended on how Sanji was that day, how much you spoke, if it was negative or positive, she had quite an insight.
She sighs, and smiles "I know." You look up at her, through teary eyes "but it hurts, because I know this is the same treatment you and nami get too." Untrue she thinks to herself, she's seen in ways Sanji treats you differently than her and Nami..though, she supposes she sees your perspective.
"I know he treats all women equally, but It hurts, i- I know this is selfish, but is it..really that much to ask for him to truly consider something..with me?" Your frown somehow deepens, and you then go on about how hard it is to not just grab his face, kiss him, which..kinda gave her the ick, but she respectfully listens, regardless..
It seems as if you've spent hours venting about how this is weighing you down, how such a stupid thing as a crush is really anchoring and crushing your soul, and as Robin anticipated the waterworks had started, she can't think of words that would be much helpful to your case, so she just tries her hardest to provide physical comfort.
And in the time you'd been spilling your heart out about the stupid love-cook, Robin was aware he was actually listening, she'd noticed him listening, she' noticed him.
And she was sure his ears were burning red.
So when she looked to her side and saw him with a solemn expression but face somehow flushed, she just slightly nodded to him and herself.
She looks over at you, still sulking "it'll be okay, I'm sure you'll figure it out." She says, her tone hinting the obvious, the obvious you were oblivious to.
.
.
.
After awhile of sitting with Robin in pure silence, she speaks up "it's getting late, let's wash up and get some rest, I think you absolutely need some." The same smile still plastered on her face, you sigh, "Ahh right.."
She gets up dusting herself off, and before she walks away you stop her "Robin" and she looks back at you, tilting her head "Thank you, for all of this, thank you for everything" you smile at her, and she smiles back "Always, y/n, you're always welcomed, this is definitely the least I could do for you" you nod, following her, just until you part ways. She shares a room with Nami and you're fortunate enough to have your own room.
You got to your room, rummaging for your nightwear and undergarments, thinking to just wash off quickly and have a proper shower when you wake up. A couple of knocks pause your rummaging
You think it's Nami, probably asking if she could borrow your snowglobe, you know she wants to break it to get the cat out of it, nit thinking it could anyone but her you open the door eyes shut, finger already accusingly pointing "No Nami, You cannot break the snow globe to get the kitty from inside it" you say, letting out a small huff
Instead of the huff and sigh you thought you'd hear, you heard a chuckle instead, ...that doesn't sound like Nami you say to yourself,, you open your eyes to find no one other than Sanji standing right outside your door, a little Embarrassed, you smile awkwardly, and apologise.
"Its alright cherie" Cherie.. he's only called you Cherie a few times, and your not used to it at all, but still, you can't help the smile that spreads or perhaps the slight redness on your face either "is now a bad time?" He asks, smiling at you, confused you look on your bed remembering what you were just about to do, you smile at him "ahh, no no not at all, do you need something?" He looks nervous you think..
"Come with me, Cherie, let's talk over a drink if you don't mind" he says, all smiley, you smile too following close behind. You reach the kitchen and he ushers you to have a seat, while he brings out soda from the fridge. He sits in a way the two of you are looking at each other, he opens your Soda and you thank him with a smile, "So, what's up? What can I help you with, Sanji?" God, you're so fucking cute. He thinks to himself
He takes a breath, before sipping his drink, looking at you to find that your eyes are already all over him, leaving red to flush across his features..not that you could make out in the dim light. "Cherie i like you too." He says, but it comes out as a whisper, as if its a secret so sacred he has no choice but to protect it with his life, you stare at him, in shock, in awe, disbelief even, are you hearing this right?? Are you..Are you dreaming?
He notices your shock and chuckles, " 'm so sorry I wasn't aware that i hadn't made it as obvious as I thought I had.." he says, sounding a little nervous. He's looking at you as if your his whole word. "I- I know it was invasive, but I overheard the whole thing with Robin. I'm sorry, for being so slow, being so oblivious to your feelings," he says again, rubbing the back of his neck. You wanna lunge onto him and kiss him and ask him if he's being serious.
But you're still in awe. He'd been courting you as you'd been him? He Likes you too?
"Well, Sanji. I'm glad it's you"
He reaches for your hand, comfortingly rubbing it. And you just beam at him, he swears he feels his heartbeat 100x faster now, but he smiles back, a little unsure what to take from the ever growing silence. So then you speak "i'm- I'm sorry, I'm just shocked, I had never expected my feelings to be reciprocated, by You nonetheless" God, you can't help but look at him lovingly, like he hung the very stars in the sky.
And then you start, again.
"It'll always be you." You mutter, a little nervously
So, he speaks.
"And I'm glad it's you too, Cherie."
He's glad definitely.
And you can't help the smile you can only imagine gracing your lips. With nervous hands you cup his face and look deep into his eyes, your smile never faltering once. With shaky hands he cups your face too, he's so cute you think. Blush suits him, maybe only when it's you making him blush like this. Such a genuine smile, and you're the cause.
"Cherie" ... he pulls you out of your thoughts and you look at him, can't help but bat your eyelashes at him. You smile.
"Can.. can, i kiss you?" He asks, so Sacred, you had to make sure you were hearing right. But you nod anyway, "Cherie, let me hear you. Please."
You flush, and take in a shaky breath, "of course, you can" and before you know it he's pulled you closer to him, but he so very delicately kisses you, it would've fooled you. A man with no experience? He's quite the kisser.. you've seemed to have pulled his face closer, and you just look at him, he's becoming fidgety,
could you really blame him? He just kissed you. And once the nerves settles he pulls you into him, and you hold him too.
He chuckles nervously, "don't regret me, okay, Cherie?" And you kiss his shoulder, a silent response, but you hope he understands.
You can finally take the time and wrack your brain, make sense of what you two are, that your crewmate dynamic is now changed, you're now what you've wanted to be for a long time, his lover. And he is yours, too.
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wcnderlnds · 1 month ago
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to the moon [part four] ★ choi seung-hyun (t.o.p)
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・❥・ summary: after being bit by the jealousy bug, you're certain seunghyun would want nothing to do with you but he proves you wrong. ・❥・word count: 1.5k ・❥・warnings: none, really. ・❥・ authors note: consider this a filler chapter before we get to the good stuff <3 i also did not proofread this because it's late and im tired so forgive me for any mistakes.
PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE
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The morning came with many regrets but that bitter, sinking feeling still lingered in your stomach. Memories of the night before plagued your mind. You kept replaying it in your head, trying to figure out if you had read the situation wrong but your mind and your heart were pulling you in two different directions. Your head was telling you that you’d acted irrational, Seunghyun and Rhiannon were nothing more than friends but your heart? Well, it was so emotionally attached to Seunghyun that it ached at the mere thought of him even liking someone else. You hated the way you’d acted, it was embarrassing and definitely not the impression you wanted to give Seunghyun or his friends but you couldn’t take it back now. All you could do was deal with the consequences.
Catching feelings for Seunghyun had never been part of the plan but you couldn’t deny the way your heart skipped a beat every time you saw him now or how each time he looked at you, the butterflies in your stomach began to stir. There was no point denying it now. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to feel the same now you’d made a fool out of yourself.
With a sigh, you grabbed your phone, seeing a few texts from Seunghyun. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at them yet so instead you decided to hop in the shower to clear your mind. Maybe it would bring you some sense of clarity, possibly the courage you needed to finally text him back.
Fresh out of the shower, you got changed opting for something casual – there was no need to make an effort, it was the weekend and you had no plans. Just as you were about to head into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat, there was a knock on the door. You stopped in your tracks. You weren’t expecting anyone so who could it be? A little hesitantly, you made your way to the front door and opened it to see the last person you expected.
Seungyhun.
There he stood, a shy smile on his face, hands behind his back like he was hiding something. Your first thought was how the hell did he get your address but then you remembered you’d shared it with him in case he ever needed a place to crash. He looked you over as if he was making sure you were okay. Those big, beautiful eyes of his shining with concern. He didn’t let you have a chance to speak, opening his mouth before you could.
“You weren’t answering any of my texts and I was worried so I had to come and make sure you were okay,” his voice was gentle.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I… uh, just needed some time to breathe,” you wrapped your arms around yourself. 
There was a beat of silence before Seunghyun spoke again, his voice soft. “She’s just a friend, you know?”
Oh. He’d figured it out. 
“...yeah, I know. I just…” you trailed off, unable to find the words to say.
Seunghyun finally pulled his arms from behind his back to hold out a bear. The very same bear he’d been holding last night. “I won this for you. Rhiannon was making fun of me because I was asking her if you’d like it and was nervous about giving it to you.”
“Oh.” The corners of your lips twitched up in a smile, taking the bear from him. Your hand brushed against his, sparks coursing through your whole body. You hugged the bear to your chest. It was almost unbelievable how sweet he was and you’d gone and jumped to conclusions. “I’m sorry. For acting the way I did. I’m just… not good at this. People usually end up hurting me so my mind jumps to the worst.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he reassured you. “I’m the same way but I promise you, I have no intentions of hurting you. I… uh, I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to come and get brunch with me. We had our time cut short last night and, well, I wanted to spend more time with you.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, thankful you had the bear to clutch onto at that moment. “...like, as a date or… am I jumping to conclusions again?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, a date. If you want. Doesn’t have to be but I’d like it to be.”
“I’d love to.”
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Seunghyun had chosen a beautiful, little cafe in a secluded part of town. It was the perfect place for a first date. You still couldn’t believe you were actually on a date with him. After last night you were sure he wouldn’t want anything to do with you, believing that you had been too dramatic for him but here you were. Seunghyun sat opposite you, telling you his latest training. You hung on to his every word, nodding when you needed to ask, asking questions at the right moment. It was like he’d never had anyone to really talk to about this and he hadn’t. Most people weren’t interested but you? Well, you were the complete opposite. It was nice to have someone so interested in what he had to say. He could tell it was genuine, too. A lot of people would pretend to talk to him just because of who he was but you didn’t care about any of that. It was one of the reasons he was so drawn to you.
You finished the last bite of your pancakes, pushing the plate to the side. Seunghyun had insisted on paying for the whole thing even though you’d offered to go half with him. He really was the sweetest, kindest person you’d ever met. He’d literally shown up on your door after you’d ignored him and had a jealous meltdown. Most guys wouldn’t look back after that but he wasn’t most guys.
“When do you actually go to the moon then?” You asked.
“Not for a while yet. Still got a lot of training to do and they need to work on the ship. Why? You worried you’re going to miss me when I go?” He teased.
“Well, duh. Once you get up there, you might not want to come back.”
“I think knowing you’re here is more than enough of a reason to come back.”
You blushed, shyly looking down at your empty plate. Your heart raced, cheeks heating up. Seunghyun only laughed, reaching over to give your hand a squeeze. “You’re cute when you blush.”
“Shutup,” you said with no real bite. “It’s not cute turning into a human tomato.”
“I think you’d be a cute tomato.”
“Oh my god.”
He grinned at you, the dimples in his cheeks showing and it made you want to lean over the table and kiss him. Thoughts drifted back to that almost kiss from last night. Your eyes darted down to his lips for a brief second but he caught it. He must’ve been thinking the same thing because he leaned over the small table, cupping your cheek, his eyes scanning yours for any hesitation. When he saw none, he made the move, his lips a hair's breadth away from yours – you could feel his breath on your face, the ghost of his lips almost touching yours – then his phone began to ring.
“...you’ve got to be kidding me?” He mumbled under his breath. The disappointment in his tone didn’t go amiss. Yet another failed attempt at a kiss. Was this the universes’ way of telling you this wasn’t going to happen?
Seunghyun answered the call. You watched as he spoke, his eyebrows furrowing then he ended the call with a sigh. The apology was written all over his face and you knew what was coming next. As much as you didn’t want him to leave – you could spend all day sitting here talking with him, you knew that it was important. So, you weren’t going to stop him. You smiled warmly at him. “It’s okay. If you need to go, go.”
“I don’t want to,” he huffed like a child. “I want to stay with you but… I have to.”
“Space stuff?”
“Space stuff,” he confirmed with a nod. “You better text me back now. I don’t want to have to show up at your door again.”
“I will, I promise.” Then you hesitated for a moment, a little nervous to ask him the question running through your mind but if he could ask you out on a date, you could ask him this. “Me and my friends are heading out to a bar tonight for a few drinks. Would you like to come? You can bring your friends, if you like.”
Seunghyun’s eyes lit up. “I’d love to. Text me the details and I’ll see you there.”
Once he paid the bill, the two of you made your way out. The warm air of Texas hit you instantly, Seunghyun standing in front of you, barely any space between you. For a moment it seemed like he was going to try and go in for a kiss again but instead he placed a hand on your hip momentarily, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah… later.”
taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @berfgrimm @loveesiren @justsisse @sherrayyyyy @aizshallnotbefound @fleabagspurplewife @gemzyy @bettelaboure @gdinthehouseee @breakmeoff @babyrvis @flymetothexmoon @forevervibezzzz1 @ttturnitup @szonyix6277 @riddlerloveb0t @youlikeex @septywitch @melanatedhorrorqueen @l5byrinth @tabibabib @moontabi @loonybunny1
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killishin · 29 days ago
Text
— ♤ muse.
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PART 02.
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pairing: dick grayson x sculptor! reader
category: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort
content warning: mentions of depression, alternate universe where dick is not a vigilante, tbh none of the batfam is, and.. well more will be added as we go
summary: loneliness often gives rise to the most beautiful of art, and that art is Dick Grayson, coming alive. literally.
a/n: nothing, just enjoy! (sorry if the chapter feels a bit rushed im working on my writing :)) )
wc: 2.6k
fic masterlist. previous. next.
dividers by @cafekitsune
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"what the fuck?!" you screamed making him wince slightly, literally the loudest you have ever screamed as you scrambled to your feet and stumbled back.
"and you called me loud—"
"who the fuck— am i losing my mind?" you whisper to yourself as you look off to a distance for a mere second, because all of this— him— it cannot be true. you have to be hallucinating.
but you are not. you finally switch the logical side of your brain after months, you know this is somehow, by some fucked up miracle, real. also he is frowning at a painting of yours while poking at it.
all while still being extremely, naked.
"my nose definitely seems weird there—"
"how the hell are you real?" you snap at him, grabbing hold of a particularly long brush and holding the pointy end towards him. to which he simply gives you a 'are you serious? ' kinda pointed look.
"first of all that is rude to ask—"
"i don't care—"
"second, if you failed to notice, which i know you don't considering you literally stared at it, i am quite literally naked and cold—"
warmth creeps up your neck but you keep your glare resolute. "i asked something. who the hell are you and how are you real?!" you put more weight to your words, appear to be more daunting and fearless than what you actually are.
but he simply stares at you, rather he leans against your desk, in a very intentionally executed position that flexes his muscles all in the right place and quite literally shows off his goods.
your lips twitch in exasperation, cheeks growing hot, before you give up. huffing as you hurry out to grab a throw blanket, run back in and threw it at him right from the edge of the room. he catches it with ease, smiling triumphantly making your cheeks warm yet again. you are still at a lose for words, your mind a mush and a mess, questions upon questions to which the answers make absolute no sense.
"atta girl." he muttered, throwing you a teasing side eye and your eyes widen momentarily. "this isn't sufficient you do know that right?" he raised a brow at you as he wrapped blanket at his waist, his upper body still in full view.
"well im sorry for not being accommodating to an intruder." you scoffed sarcastically, pointy end of the paint brush still held in hand.
"just say you want to stare at my chest—" he said smugly as he not so subtly flexes his biceps and your lips furrow even more into a frown at his outright casual behavior, his ease of flirting— exactly how he did in your dreams.
while it may be a treat to see him in the flesh, your sanity hangs by a thread. you fail to connect the dots, your reality unraveling right in front of you as your manifestation stands there naked.
"i want..." you take a deep breath, but it turns shaky and thankfully the mirth in his eyes drops for a moment, "i want answers."
"how are you.. how are you here? how did you get in?" you make sure your voice is calm, as if in a meeting, but this is far from your daily routine. this isn't exactly the normal reality anymore.
he straightens up and folds his arms, "because of you." he answered vaguely, or maybe it was the answer he knew.
thats when your eyes sweep across the study and you come to an astounding realisation, your sculpture isn't here. your widened eyes flit to his, and he shrugs. he is your sculpture, no more made of marble— no more bearing the imperfections of an artist. he is human, alive from an inanimate thing.
"but that–" you stumble back as your hands lower, "that is not possible. you are not possible."
his eyes flash for a millisecond, but you were too lost in your own thoughts to notice. "you are not real. i made you. you are— fucking hell— you are from my dream!"
his eyes narrow but he keeps his composure, and maybe that further irks you, "i mean how is it possible for a fucking statue to turn real?! and–"
you pause to gather your bearings, your breathing turning rapid, "you know me. you— and that is only possible if you..." you wince as you connect the dots, you sound insane to yourself, "if you're from my dreams. and that makes it all even more bizzare!" your voice raises, accusing yet scared.
he simply stares at you for a moment, his jaw working in restraint before he pushed off the desk and stalks towards you. you immediately raise your hand with the paint brush, glaring at him pointedly. he respects that and nods.
"i know as much as you do." he begins, a throaty laugh escaping his lips which sound a bit hollow, "less than you do actually. because all i know is you and whatever you showed me." he said and his voice turns bitter as the words lash out from his lips, but somehow he maintains his gentle tone.
"like you said, you made me. i don't know anything before that. I don't know anything about—" he waves his hand around, the tension between his brows increases, "this.. world you live in. you created me and now im alive."
he takes another step, small but enough to make the height difference apparent. to tower over you. never had you ever felt so cornered, so out of your wits.
though your mind was still quite panicking, his words did reach you. and if indeed he is your creation, then... he is more lost than you. he is more lonely than you ever were.
"your world is boundless." his voice dropped to a murmur, his eyes no longer jovial, "my world begins and ends with you."
the words struck a chord with you and you realised how messed up you had made your life, and now, his. unknowingly so but you did. technically he is like a baby to this world, he knows only what your mind wanted him to, only what you told him or showed him in your dreams. he knows only what he saw in your mind. he knows the world yet he is a stranger to it.
you gulp as perspiration begins to set on your forehead and he smiles, but it isn't warm or gentle like it was in your dreams. it was conniving, devious— it was trouble.
"so before you think of throwing me out to fend for myself—" he tilted his head as he brought up his index and hooked it beneath your jaw tenderly, "know that im your responsibility. you're stuck with me."
"you wouldn't leave a helpless man, who knows nothing, with nothing, onto the street right? " it was clear, his manipulation, it was clear as day. the way his eyes glinted with fake innocence, masking the mischief was enough to tell you he wouldn't leave even if you told him to. he is showing, what you would call a human nature. in order to fend for himself he would do anything for survival. right now its manipulation, later it could be anything.
what have you done?
he was charming sure, he was gentle and respectful— everything you saw in your dreams. but he was also what you didn't. and that scared you, the unpredictability. you knew him, knew him the best and yet he is a stranger to you. the man of your dreams yet a stranger.
feelings of love were now being crept up by doubt, fear, apprehension— he wasn't the only one in survival mode.
this isn't like in the dreams, though he technically is the man you saw, talked with— you cannot trust him. he isn't just a figment of your imagination anymore, he is a human now.
humans deceive.
"i didn't remember you being an asshole." you murmured in annoyance as your narrowed your eyes at him, his brows rose up in delight.
"i didn't remember asked to be made but here we are aren't we?" he grinned before stepping back and looking around. your eyes followed his and grimaced in embarrassment at the heaps of canvas painted, with him as the sole subject.
"oh you are obsessed with me—"
"shut up." he still cackled under his breath, his eyes flaring up playfully again. "im not."
"so about you." you began as you exhale softly, your head has started to ache from all this, "since you're practically homeless—"
"thanks to you—"
"thanks to me." you repeated, gritting your teeth in annoyance, "you can stay here. I'll clear up my uh— guest room."
that room isn't at all a guest room, it has no bed or furniture except canvases and your supplies lying there.
he stood there with his arms crossed and let out a little 'huh' before tilting his head, "after all we been through— after all we did-" he corrected with a knowing smirk, making your cheeks flame, " you don't trust me enough."
it wasn't a question but a statement, and your hands immediately curled into fists, "well sorry if im not trusting enough of my sculpture, made of marble, came alive. and its the same person from my dreams— who by some miracle remembers everything—" your words turned into a rant, a hysterical laugh leaving your lips, "i don't even trust the world right now, dick, so im sorry if im not gonna trust another man who just spawned into my life with no plausible explanation."
he considered you with narrow eyes, surely he was himself going through his own existential crisis but he held back. if he was irritated or hurt, he didn't show it.
"fair enough." he said, far too casually before strutting out and standing in the middle of the living room with his hands on his hip, his cheshire smile back on his lips.
"so where's my room?"
it took you a second to answer, still too blown away by how he brushed off the topic. "uh— its that one." you pointed left , just beside your room. "but wait its not— it doesn't have a bed. and its not cleaned." you said with a tired sigh as you opened the door and he leaned in, peeking in with his brows raised which immediately furrow into a distasteful frown.
"that is not where im sleeping." he said, quite adamant and you had to sigh, "im not that bad to make you sleep on the floor. you can take my bed for the moment. I'll clean it up and buy a bed."
he must not have even heard anything after you told him to take your bed, his smile blown so wide. "oh thanks!" he hummed, pleased before immediately walking in yours. maybe that was what he actually wanted. sly bastard.
"oh this is nice— oh whats that?" he questioned loudly in amusement as he poked in the open drawers where your undergarments were kept. you snatched the bra he almost touched and shoved it close. "respect other's privacy. rule number one for being a human okay?"
"sure, sweetheart." he winked before looking around, but before he could say anything your phone rang. and thats when you remembered the meeting with your assistant, Kira.
"goddammit." you cursed under your breath and rushed to your phone in the living room, picking it up quick.
"hey—"
"you were supposed to be here half an hour ago. where the hell are you?" she questioned, rathee scolded and you winced. glancing back at dick who was currently looking at himself in the mirror, his eyes unreadable.
he needed you right now, with the guest room needing cleaning up and everything— he needs clothes too.
"uhhhh‐ cough- kira i think im not feeling too well–"
"nope. be here in 20 or else im coming there and dragging you out."
"okay fine!"
you hung up with a sigh, rubbing your heaf with a soft groan. of course she thought you were bailing out because you didn't want to leave your home, and while that could be true, it wasn't the case right now at least.
you can't risk her coming home either.
"dick!" you called out as you walked back in your room, "i have to go. i have a meeting with my assistant."
"kira?"
"yes." you said with narrowed eyes, his attention really is on you at all times, "it'll take some time. I'll come home as fast as i can— oh and I'll also bring you some clothes." you said hurriedly as you went out to grab your purse.
"you know my size? what if it doesn't fit?" he inquired with a raised brow and you immediately caught on, he wanted to come too. but you can't risk him in the open, at least not until you've figured things out.
"you're forgetting that i sculpted you." you said as you walked passed him to the door, "don't leave. at all. if you do, thats your fault. it wont be on my conscience." you warned him firmly, making sure the advice sticks to him.
"aye aye cap." he said dryly and your eyes took a look down his body, he can't really stay in that blanket.
"there's a robe in my room, behind the door. you can wear that for now." if it fits.
you quickly left after that, locking the door while praying he doesn't leave.
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it was almost evening by the time you were on your way home, walking on the pavement. unsurprisingly the time away from him did give you some clarity. you rationlised he wouldn't leave, or necessarily make your life harder. he needs to depend on you to survive, he wouldn't piss off the sole person he knows in this world. besides, you want to have some faith in him, that he is more of the man you knew than the stranger you're being cautious of.
you bought him a few pair of jeans and tshirts, shirts... quite a lot, because you couldn't resist the impulse to dress him up.
you shook your head at that, the situation is a fragile and foreign one, for both you and him. you have decided to put all those memories from the dream aside and start new with him, as if you've just became friends. though you doubt it would be that easy, if he would make it that easy.
from outside your apartment its quiet, and your brows furrow as anxiety slipped in. did he run away? you hastily opened the door and paused a bit when you saw its dark. quickly closing the door you venture in, looking around.
"dick? dick where the hell are you? dick—" you steps faltered when you entered your kitchen, eyes widening while your jaw went slack.
cereal box tored up and empty and lying on the counter with bits of it scattered. half your grocery scattered across the counter, all your spices and condiments jumbled up— while the man responsible for the mess himself stood with a proud smile, your lilac robe barely holding itself together around him. he was holding a chips packet, with his mouth full with it.
"what the fuck did you do to my kitchen?" you couldn't even find it in yourself to be mad, you didn't like your kitchen to be messed up (even if you yourself let dishes stay piled up). the amount of anger is somehow overshadowed by genuine disbelief.
"i was hungry."
"clearly."
"your fault you didn't leave any food for me. I don't know how to cook. first day on earth remember?"
he was not at all apologetic. and something told you he knew how to cook.
oh he was going to be trouble.
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halfway-happyyy · 2 months ago
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im sorry for filling up your inbox so much but i just love the way you write frank sm ugh
perhaps something fluffy where reader has a bad habit of not being able to sleep without music. maybe she tries her best to sleep with silence the first couple night because putting in headphones feels rude but so does playing out out loud. then she finally confesses whats been keeping her up and frank is just like… i was in the marines wtf u think i wouldnt be able to sleep?
maybe she starts playing her playlist when he finally convinces her its okay and it actually helps his nightmares (im a firm believer he would cry over pheobe bridgers songs and thats like half my playlist oops)
wait you are so right!! i too have a soft angst playlist that also contains an aggressive amount of phoebe bridgers and big thief so i get where you're coming from 100%
when she was younger, she could sleep through just about anything. a raging thunder storm, one of her parents' marijuana-infested house parties, hell, maybe even an earthquake. but if she thought about it now, she reckoned it was because the world was a much lighter place when she was young. (or maybe it wasn't - maybe it never had been, and she only perceived it that way because wasn't everything a little softer through the lens of a ten year old?)
frank was a different duck entirely. where other partners in the past had insisted on some sort of stimulus to sleep - be it the television, or the incessant crackle of the radio, he seemed content to drift off in total darkness and silence. which had been fine the first couple nights she stayed over (frank had succeeded in tiring her out to the best of his abilities), but it soon grew too challenging. she was just too used to falling asleep to her music.
she had tried her headphones only once - and though they were only separated by the space of a couple inches, she didn't like how far away they made frank feel to her. she had considered playing her music out loud, but couldn't bear the thought of keeping him up with it, so she endeavoured to suffer.
until she couldn't anymore.
after spending a pathetic portion of the evening tossing and turning, she eventually pilgrimaged to the kitchen in search of some chamomile tea (courtesy of david "that shit'll knock your ass out every damn time" lieberman).
yawning, she cracked open the novel she was reading and prayed that it, combined with the warm tea, would help lull her into even a shallow slumber.
"everythin' alright, kid?"
his usually raspy voice, made all the more gruffer under the weight of sleep startled her, before she glanced up from her page.
"yeah, sorry, frank. did I wake you?"
he scratched at the back of his head and shook it.
"nah, I got up to pee and wondered where you were."
leant against the paint-chipped doorframe, he cleared his throat.
"can't sleep?"
she wedged her bottom lip between her teeth and shook her head.
"seem to be having a rough go of it, recently, to tell the truth."
frank frowned, before asking her what was on her mind.
she released a deep breath and glanced up at him.
"I have a habit of sleeping with a specific playlist on in the background, and for a multitude of reasons, I haven't been listening to it when I've stayed the night here, and it's messing with my rhythm a bit," she shrugged. "i'll get over it, I'm sure, I just need a couple more days to get used to it."
frank's frown had only deepened.
"whadya you mean you'll get over it?"
she swallowed hard, but reluctantly continued on.
"I don't want to disturb you - keep you up on account of habits I can't break."
"keep me up?" he shook his head. "baby - you gotta remember, I was in the marines. when i'm out, i'm out like a damn light." he pushed himself from the doorframe to rub a warm, reassuring hand over her back. "finish the chapter you're on, and your tea, and come back to bed, yeah? we'll listen to your music together." he pressed a kiss to her temple, and disappeared.
she sat in the warm glow of the kitchen light for a couple more minutes, in awe of the man that he was. the gesture wasn't a grand one by any means, but it meant more to her than anything, in that moment.
frank was waiting for her when she wandered back into his room, his hands linked together behind his head, and his gaze trained on the ceiling above.
"put it on kid, let's hear it."
so she did. and the first song that played was i know the end, by phoebe bridgers. frank didn't say anything, but she had fallen asleep in minutes to the feeling of his hand as it squeezed around hers thrice.
i love you.
when she wandered back out into the kitchen in the morning, frank was sipping on a cup of coffee at the table, the new york post wedged within his grasp.
"there she is," he smiled. "how'd ya sleep?"
she had woken up feeling more refreshed than she had in days.
"really well. and you?"
frank took another sip of his coffee, and savoured the flavour of it on his tongue before replying.
"I really liked that it'll all work out cover you got on there. that was somethin' else."
she smiled. "that's phoebe for you." she wrapped her arms around him from behind, and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "thank you, for listening to my music with me."
he elicited a soft scoff. "I oughtta be thankin' you, kid. last night was the first night in a while I didn't have any nightmares."
she ignored the crack in her heart at that, and pressed another kiss to his temple.
"a million mornings, frank."
he traced a fingertip over the back of her hand and smiled.
"a million mornings, kid."
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sp4ceboo · 3 months ago
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OMFG CHAPTER 2 IS EVERYTHING I HOPED FOR AND MORE!!!!! Can we get a wedding chapter 3 👉👈 or are you not a fan of that
A/N: ANON IM SO GLAD U LIKED IT - tysm for this request, it may be a little short bc im terrible at writing happy things and im also working on another feyd fic, but ask and u shall recieve 😌
A/N pt. 2: well this is awkward. draggng this out a year later bc i forgot all about this. there was meant to be more but idr what it was oops 😅
tw: smutty near the end, marriage (lol), i overuse the four letter 'l' word, both are lovesick which kinda makes them ooc, no beta we die like feyd, complete and utter lack of dialogue or detail bc im a moron, honourable rabban mention but idk how honourable
wc: 1.1k
Yours is a tale that the people of Giedi Prime love.
Their revered na-Baron met his match in the arena, and in a rare moment of mercy, spared her. He found her fiery nature as alluring as her prowess upon the sands, and later, during a reunion shrouded in mystery, he professed his desire to marry her, right then and there. They are mesmerised by the two of you; by the way you alone can withstand the heat of his firey soul, by the way he alone can bear the touch of your once frosty heart.
That is not the whole story, though. They do not know of the night within the storms of Giedi Prime, fraught with tempered emotions. They do not know of the morning after, when you awoke cradled in Feyd's arms, his lips in your hair, speaking of a future that you had never considered as anything more than a fantasy invented for the weak of mind.
When it comes to the matters of the heart, you find you are often wrong - that is why you find yourself standing somewhere you would have never guessed: opposite Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, clothed in a wedding dress.
The satin like fabric accentuates your waist, the leanness of your muscles. It is uncommon for a Harkonnen to marry such a woman. Brides are picked for their purity and ability to produce heirs, not the sweetness of love or strength in a duel, and yet the masses respect you nevertheless - there is something in you that they recognise in themselves; the hardened lines of a warrior, the look in the eyes of one who has been in battle.
The people of Giedi Prime do not search for passion of fondness, but allegiance and loyalty. They find both of those within your relationship with Feyd, and the rest, the love, they allow to remain a mystery to them. Naturally, they find this marriage birthed not by strategic positioning but by emotion strange - uncanny, some mentioned - they do not object; they have seen you fight, nobly so, and that is what matters to them.
Rather bizarrely, the Baron did not object. Maybe because when his nephew informed him of the wedding, he saw in his eyes that there would be no yielding, or perhaps because this is what fate desired. What the Bene Gesserit desired.
It does not bother you that you may be playing into their hands. You chose to say yes when Feyd asked for your hand, his words whispered against your skin on the morning after the storm, and you will be the one sealed to him forever, bound not only by soul but by vows too. This is a choice you claim as your own. They had no hand in the deep, aching love washing over you when you look at the man across from you.
He is clad in sleek, black fabric embroidered with symbols that match your dress. It is not his clothing that enraptures you, though, but the look in his eyes, as if he would burn the world for you - the universe. There is an unbreakable, utter devotion that he regards you with that you know you return.
He is yours, and you are his.
Feyd never takes his eyes off you as he says the vows. When you repeat them to him, you feel them branded into your bones; you know they are true. You will love him until you dying breath. You will love him longer than that.
When he leans in to kiss you, you don't hear the wedding guests cheers or applause. You just feel him against you, his hands gripping your hips and tucking you close to him as he pledges his soul to you with the touch of his mouth on yours. As you pull away, he nips lightly at your lower lip, fire in his eyes.
Fucking hell, you can't wait for the wedding night.
That's the main thought occupying your mind during the banquet. You converse politely with the guests, amused by the wide eyes they give you at some of your replies - you find it entertaining, the way they listen to your tales of opponents you've encountered; these are a civilisation that revel not only in the electrifying bloodlust of a duel, but the art of the fight too. These, daresay, are your people.
Feyd keeps his hand on your thigh the whole night. Occasionally, he'll lean in to kiss your cheek or cover your fingers with his, and it sends a warm jolt through you each time - this man is your husband, this man is yours.
Rabban is quite entertaining, too. At first, he was perturbed by the casual way Feyd's hands glided over your figure, unused to seeing his brother as affected by a person as he was by a fight, but you find him sweet, if a little dim. He is the granite to Feyd's fire: solid, blundering, somewhat boorish, saying what comes to mind without considering the consequence. In this way, he manages to offend a few guests that come to greet you, but you smooth their egos with some well placed words, hiding your smile.
You sense the moment Feyd begins to truly get impatient, exactly halfway through the third dessert course. His jaw clenches, his fingers tightening wonderfully on your thigh, his words to the guests a little blunter. He lasts until the end of the fourth course before abruptly standing up - the guests turn their heads, shocked by his interruption, but he offers them no explanation, just drags you out of the banquet hall as you stifle your laughter.
The two of you make it halfway down the corridor before you realise you're never going to reach the bedroom. Digging your heels into the stone floor, you lead him down one of the more secluded hallways, stopping halfway and pouncing on him, your fingers already working on the buttons of his shirt as he presses you against the wall, his hands skimming up your back before tangling in your hair.
"You are rather impatient, husband," you laugh.
"Why need another course of dessert when my wife is right there, ready to be eaten?"
"Fair - ah - fair point."
Feyd does not bother to remove your dress, instead simply hitching it up around your hips as he lifts you in his strong arms, mouth finding your slick cunt immediately. His strong nose brushes against your clit, and you sigh contentedly, moaning as his fingers curl inside you.
"Louder, my love," he croons. "Let them all hear you scream your husband's name."
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mistress-of-vos · 9 months ago
Note
For the "Im weak for you" prompt: "Aren't you at least a little bit ashamed of how blantaly you are exploiting my feelings for you?” As a continuation of yours A/B/O Tim as BruDick's biochild AU ficlet if it is ok?
// So happy to hear your ask, anon!!! 😍💚 //
.
Ra's isn't even sure why he's doing this. It's dangerous for them both, and shameful in a way he hadn't considered before. Yet here he is.
"Well, well, old man, are you going to fuck me already?" Tim giggles as he stretches on the mattres. His Robin suit glued to his petite body, omega pheromones filling the air of the room second by second. The alpha hadn't paid much attention before, but it's now impossible to ignore how the Wayne heir smells wonderfully sweet.
It's - well, perhaps wrong isn't the correct word. Ra's and Tim have seen each other through the years ever since the pup was barely able to talk. As Tim himself had said in their last encounter, she had been trying to separate Bruce Wayne from Dick Grayson for years, meaning that Ra's had needed to stay next to the kidnapped omega child more often than not.
When had Timothy turned into a bratty teenage omega without any kind of shame or decorum, Ra's could not tell. Maybe it started that one time Ra's had to stop Tim from jumping off a balcony, as a prom red dress was hardly adequate to face a snow storm.
Anyhow; in the present Tim is enjoying their meeting. He looks amused, eyes shimmering lovely. Ra's himself had ripped off the mask from Tim's doll face minutes ago when the omega was still half asleep due to the drug, and now Ra's' fingers itch painfully, desiring to get rid of that obscene suit as well.
It is less than honorable. The Batman could think of this as revenge, or an offense. But it has been Timothy who flirted during their last encounter, offering word by word something that Ra's does desire deep in his heart.
Ra's wants an alpha son, and having an intelligent, beautiful omega mate would be a cherry on top. Timothy is everything his mate should be, and that's exactly why the omega is laying on Ra's' bed as the alpha sits on a corner, slowly undoing his cape and shirt.
"You offered to bear me a heir," Ra's points out, unable to hide the growl of lust that leaves his throat. Tim smirks, showing those adorable tiny omega fangs of his, spreading even more in the bed to show Ra's just how long his legs are and how thin his torso is.
Timothy is somehow petite and long at the same time, and it reminds Ra's' of beautiful goddesses painted and sculpted in Greece: Young, thin and pale; big eyes like jewels and full lips that murmur temptations. Timothy looks nothing like his parents, but Ra's keeps in mind that this is the child of the one omega who managed to wrap the Batman around his finger, and perhaps Ra's should be more careful with this kitten-like creature that is looking at him with hunger.
"You will need to come closer, then," the omega purrs, smirk widening when Ra's throws his cape away and does get closer indeed, crawling on the bed as a tiger, unbuttoned shirt showing his chest hair and allowing his own alpha pheromones to travel to Tim's nose.
"Oh," is what Tim breathes when Ra's pulls him against him, rough hands squeezing his ass over the spandex fabric, fangs sinking on the exposed are of his neck.
"This suit of yours," Ra's murmurs, eyes dark as he looks at the beautifully shaped pair of small tits glued to the red shirt, "I want it off."
Tim manages to push Ra's down this time, gloved thin hands using all their force to make Ra's lay down. Tim is now sitting on his lip, naughty smile on his lips. Soon, the belt is off, then the gloves, and then manicured fingers are pulling the upper part of the Robin suit up slowly.
"What a pervert old man," Tim laughs as he shows off his breasts, "Babies don't appear just by looking, oh glorious Demon's Head."
Ra's gets a tic on his eye for a moment, but quickly forgives the insult when his hands cup Timothy's exquisite breasts. And the sounds the omega makes later... It's worth every inconvenience this kidnapping involves.
Nights later, Timothy is posing at the mirror, an unsatisfied gesture on his face as he looks at his silk outfit with matching jewels. Ra's, trying to focuse on his work, fails to not notice Timothy's annoyance.
"Is the collar not to your liking?" Ra's finally asks, embarrassed at just how much of his time and mind goes to this small yet spoiled omega who seems to take more space on his life second by second.
"It needs a tiara," Tim argues, turning around to see Ra's and tilt his head, "Don't you agree? A queen needs a crown, after all."
"A queen," Ra's murmurs, "Is that what you are calling yourself now?"
"That's the least I could be considering I'm going to bear your children," Tim hums as he walks towards Ra's' desk, "I believed you were a gentleman, Ra's; are you going to tell me you will offend me and my family by treating me as a mere concubine?"
Ra's blinks.
"Aren't you ashamed of how you exploit my feelings about you, beloved?" he regrets out loud, a roll on his eyes as he takes Tim's hands and makes the omega sit on his lap, "You seem to find joy in torturing me and insulting me every chance you have despite my worship towards you."
"Don't tell me my words offend the great Ra's al Ghul!" Tim giggles, batting his thick eyelashes at Ra's and poutting with his kissable lips, "In that case, it would be inappropriate to allow a mere mistress to hold such power you, don't you think?"
"Indeed," Ra's agrees, a hand caressing Tim's covered stomach, wondering if the omega was already carrying their first pup. He should, considering all the times they have shared a bed during these days; "You might be right, if you are to be mother of my heir, a title as high as mine is needed."
"Now we're talking," Tim purrs, index finger giving a soft pinch to Ra's' nose.
Just when their mouths are about to crash, four familiar people interrupt the calm of the palace.
Ra's' daughter, offended to every last blood drop in her body.
Tim's parents, scandalized and angry.
And a fourth one, who happens to be certain blonde vigilante with a flaming sword who it seems wasn't merely a friend of Tim. A friend wouldn't be overwhelmed with violence at the view of Tim next to Ra's, would he?
"Look at the bright side!" Tim sings as they run from the fight, ninjas trying to keep their enemies behind and Ubu coming down on a helicopter, "We don't have to arrange a family meeting anymore!"
Ra's ends up picking Timothy up and jumping off a window, wondering why, after 800 years of life, this curious omega manages to ruin his life like this.
He used to be an alpha with dignity!
(A few months later, when Tim is pregnant and needy, constantly dragging Ra's to their nest and begging for more, Ra's can't complain anymore.
This is a great solution, even if Batman keeps trying to kill Ra's. It's a small price for such happiness and pleasure, anyway.
And if Tim has the demon's head wrapped around his finger... Well, let's say Gotham's princess isn't as naive as other might think).
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crguang · 2 months ago
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"You don't hate me." Himeko’s voice is breathless—like the words just barely made it past the kiss, like they slipped out between gasps and the press of her body beneath yours.
She’s still warm. Still looking at you with those damn golden eyes, even as your lips are swollen from the way they clashed, even as your teeth sink into her neck like you’re punishing her for everything she is—everything she does to you.
"I still do." you growl against her skin, muffled by the heat of her throat, by the sickening sweetness of her scent that clings to your mouth like smoke but her fingers thread through your hair instead of pushing you away.
She doesn’t flinch but exhales like she’s been holding her breath for years, and now that you’ve finally let something—anything—slip, she can finally breathe.
"..Then hate me harder” she whispers.
And damn her—damn her for knowing you too well. For reading your trembling hands, for understanding the difference between anger and longing, for catching the way your voice cracked on still. For staying kind, even when you try so hard to give her reasons not to be.
You wanted to ruin her. You wanted to scar that gentleness with your teeth, your nails, your loathing—but she welcomes it. Absorbs it like heat in her skin. And it breaks you because this isn't hate. It never was.
You kiss her again. Harsher. Messier. Desperate. because if it were love, you would’ve been gentle and you’re not ready for that.
anon………. anon wheres the rest?!?!?!?! you cant just drop a banger in my inbox and leave me wanting what the hell !!!! ohhh this is so good i love that its with himeko specifically because she’s the opposite of R here where she’s gentle and caring and those things come so easy to her. but she is also strong and sees past pretences and ughhhh she would not let herself be pushed away if she knew the one she wanted needed her just as much. she fights for the ones she cares about <3 imo she is strong enough to bear the weight of a messier kind of love if that was the only way R could love. she would be gentle where they’re not because that’s still who she is and because maybe they do just need a gentle touch. i live that small confirmation and the following relief hime feels when R says “i still do”, it implies that she wasn’t 100% certain but still shot her shot. its cute and very much a himeko thing to do. R confusing hatred and love speaks of a painful upbringing and im always a fan of those hehe.
but seriously, where are the rest of your fics……… consider making a blog if you dint already have one please 😭🙏🏾
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skibasyndrome · 11 months ago
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Okay im probably gonna send you more bc Vampire wilmon is what I live for but for now...
"Oh baby, what have you done?"
sfadkhgkfdghdfag I am LIVING for you sending me more vampire prompts!!! thank you so much!!! and also bear with me sdfjadkl I am living historical vampire au realness here
cw: mentions of blood, and, again, maybe this is light pain kink? maybe it's just human who loves a vampire and is a lil needy for him behavior? who's to say!
Could be considered in the same universe as this snippet here
"Oh baby, what have you done?" Simon's concern is palpable as he gently takes Wille's hand into his. He lifts the hand, twisting it, looking at the small cuts that run over Wille's knuckles, down the back of his hand. Traces the deepest slash, the one that's carved across the heel of Wille's hand with soft, careful fingertips. Wille flinches at the touch, the pain still hot and sharp, but he doesn't pull his hand away, wouldn't dream of removing himself out of Simon's delicate grasp. The way Simon is staring at the red, angry marks, eyeing each one of them with a mix of concern and wonder, is making Wille's heart beat out of his chest. "I got caught up in some rose bushes," Wille says quietly, feeling his cheeks burn hot. Simon doesn't need to know why Wille tried to get that one particular rose, the crimson one, the one that made Wille think of Simon, made the deep-seated yearning for his lover so much stronger. He doesn't need to know that it's getting harder and harder for Wille to go through every day like he's not just desperately waiting for the night to come and bring relief. Doesn't need to know that Wille had hoped having that one rose for himself would help, would make breathing easier. With those soft petals, velvety like the fabric of Simon's gown, the deep red color reminding him of Simon's lips whenever Wille has just let him have him. "Wille...," Simon sighs and Wille holds his breath when Simon brings Wille's hand up towards his face. Yes, he thinks, please, he thinks, mind spinning with the desire to have Simon add to the cuts, to feel that sweet sting cut through the dullness of the other pain. He wants Simon to tear into him and take. But Simon doesn't, Simon just presses his cold lips against the angry line of his palm and Wille wants to cry, not from the dull pain of pressure on the wound, way too dull, not the right kind of pain, and he wants to whine and wants Simon to just understand, to get that Wille doesn't need soothing right now, he needs something else, he needs Simon and Simon's hunger and Simon's arms around him and Simon's teeth sinking into him. When Simon lets Wille's hand sink, he lifts his head and meets Wille's eyes again, searching, looking for something. His jaw is tense, Wille can tell, he can always tell when Simon is trying to hold back, trying to put up a front, but Wille doesn't want that right now, he wants Simon to let go and for Simon to let Wille be there for him. He wants Simon to bite and to claw and to take and to drink and he wants to spend all of tomorrow knowing and remembering that he spent the night giving Simon what he needs. He wants tomorrow not to feel like the dull ache of missing Simon, but like the satisfaction, the pride, the joy of knowing that he and Simon have had each other and that he's been the one to quench his thirst. A dangerous little thought snakes his way into Wille's conscious, one that has him wondering if Simon would be quicker to give in if Wille only let more of the thorns tear his skin, if Simon would be more tempted if there were more little cuts taunting him. And maybe it should be a scary thought, maybe it should scare him that he wants this badly, so badly that he would willingly pierce his own skin for Simon to press his mouth against him, for Simon's tongue to lap up every last drop of blood. Simon's eyes zero in on him again, his brows furrowed, jawline twitching with tension. Wille wishes he could just get it, see it, sense it without him having to be the one to beg for it. And so he lifts his palm up again, raising it towards Simon's face, offering it, god, does he ever want to offer himself up to Simon. Simon's eyes are piercing in the way the dart between Wille's outstretched arm and Wille's face, looking, searching, always searching for answers there, and Wille hopes he finds what he's looking for, finds that everything in Wille is screaming out for Simon, that everything Wille has, is, is for Simon.
well... Wille sure has got it bad, huh. whenever I post stuff like this I need to mentally go kill that inner censor kill that inner censor kill that censor and.... well... idk, I guess it's working?!?!? Thank you thank you thank for being interested in vampire Simon and his simp of a human lover and thank you so much for the sentence!!! 💜💜💜 also @ everyone please excuse me doing this very much not in the order I got them but I'll get to every single one I promise! I was just feeling very vampire just now lmao
Send me "Wilmon" + a sentence and I'll write you (very much likely more than) 5 more!
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rekaisbored · 5 months ago
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I have absolutely no clue how to use tumblr but im trying lol, so here is a few paragraphs from the first chapter of my marauders wip on ao3, this is marys pov, if anyones interested, its called The ash of the home, that I started the fire in
Regulus Black was the first to die. Though Mary never really knew him, only as Sirius’s moody, grim Death Eater brother, so she always considered Marlene to be the first of them, their little group, the people she loved, her friends, her family, to die. Marlene’s entire family was murdered by Death Eaters. She was Mary’s best friend, and she died, at only twenty years old. And the war went on.
Two weeks later, Dorcas Meadowes, Marlene’s girlfriend, was killed by Voldemort himself. She went on a murderous rampage before her death, and in her grief induced hysteria, she took out more death eaters in a week than the Order in a month. Mary wished she had the skill and courage to do the same, maybe even die in the end, like Dorcas did, but she wasn’t brave enough. And the war went on.
On the 31st of October 1981, Lily and James died. They were twenty-one; their son barely older than one. Mary heard the news from Dumbledore, who told her it was their secret keeper, the only person who knew where they were hiding, who betrayed them and got them killed. He said it was Sirius, that he killed James, and later Peter, and Lily, Lily, Lily, Lily, her Lily. Mary was broken, frozen in time, unable to do anything, to think, to mourn, to cry. It was like she died with Lily and the rest of her friends. The war didn’t go on, it slowed and stopped with Mary and her all-consuming, raw, torturous ache, and the loss of everyone she ever loved, and the death of Lily, Lily, Lily. It was over, everything was over.
She knew something was wrong, that Sirius wouldn’t have, under any circumstances, betrayed James or Lily. He would’ve rather died. She tried to convince Remus, so they could do something about it, because it was just the two of them left now, but he sent her away. He loved Sirius, and Mary understood that it hurt too much, that he couldn’t even bear to think about it all, that the night James and Lily died, it wasn’t only her who lost the love of her life; Remus did too. She went to Dumbledore then, after spending a month just wandering through London, eyes hazy and heart shattered, and she asked him to investigate Sirius’s case, to hold a trial before sending him to rot away and die in Azkaban, to let her see Lily’s son, to let her raise him. She begged and cried and screamed until she couldn’t make a sound anymore and he shook his head a final time. The disappointment that came with his answer combined with her grief she never processed was too much. She felt like losing her mind from the cruel pain and she needed it desperately to end.
On the last day of 1981, Mary had her mind made up. She went to see Remus, who still wouldn’t look at her, or talk to her. She put on a pretty skirt and a band tee she borrowed from Marlene, back at Hogwarts, only to never return it. She put her hair up in a big ponytail and twirled a blue ribbon around it, the same one Lily had worn the day they met, the one she later found lying around her bathroom after she died. She went to the market down her street and bought a bouquet of lilies from a kind old lady. With only the flowers and her wand in her pocket, she walked to a park nearby. She sat in silence, and cried, sobbed so hard she couldn’t breathe. She was alone. In the park, and in life. She was so alone. She looked up at the sky, finding Sirius, finding the moon, and she whispered, “I’m so sorry, I tried” She choked on the words, her tears staining Marlene’s shirt. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“I love you guys.” She mumbled. “But I can’t do this.” She wiped her cheeks, sniffled, and smelled the lilies, her lungs full of their painfully familiar, achingly sweet scent. “Obliviate.”
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xkleipsis · 8 months ago
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High and Low
An arranged fate
Norihisa Hyuga x f.reader
P.1 P.2 P.3 P.4
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Author’s note: My first time writing on tumblr, and 1st time doing such trope so bear w me <3
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It was thundering by the time I finally had landed in Japan, luckily the flight wasn’t delayed and neither there were any issues of sort. After collecting by suitcases, which didn’t contain much as i plan on buying more here, i got a cab and showed the driver the address.
As i sat back to relax, or at least attempt to, i try to recall the trouble i got myself into. Hadn’t I tried to purposefully irritate the elders, they wouldn’t have convinced my parents into this marriage; a marriage with a crazy guy who sought revenge and had recently got out of jail. Apparently he also isn’t keen to this idea. Many aren’t, sure having someone in the family who runs a gang its beneficial, considering the elders want to expend their business here in japan, but, my parents are against this, strangely enough most of my relatives are too, and probably is so this man of a ex-convict.
But am i against it? I asked myself this multiple times and everytine i cant decide. If i was really against it then i would’ve ran away, frankly speaking its very easy, but i guess i have nothing to lose. No matter what, had i brought another guy stating he was the love of my live, these elders would’ve still complained unless the poor boy would’ve brought them anything useful for them such as status and power and more nonsense.
I just hope he’s decent. No, he has to at least have a nice personality. Bad looks? I can manage, i can simply not wear glasses around the house, having a negative 5 eyesight can be handy. But he cant have a shit personality, i cant risk my blood pressure.
I look outside the window as it rains, while the car drives at a reasonable speed, and before i knew it, i was here. Outside the main meet up place of his gang, I should’ve at least be given the actual address, no? As i thank the driver i notice a look of unease in his eyes, and shit i dont blame him, one might even think we’re in a middle of the forest from how it looked.
After taking my suitcase i start to head in the old styled house, i mean the door was open.. as i entered i could feel weird looks from men, most of the wearing red jackets and chains, until i asked one of them if they could bring me to hyuga, and without saying much, he led the way, as if he was waiting for me.
I was brought to another room, much quieter, there sat a man who looked like had been smoking, wearing a red jacket over his shoulder and golden chained hanging from his neck. He looked me up and down before i spoke, ‘so? You are, i believe my fiancé??”
He just stared at me before replying “yeah” in a obvious rude tone before getting up and walking towards me. Maybe because i was tired from the flight, perhaps even jet-lagged but i was already trying to study his looks.
“Lets get something clear from the beginning, im not interested in you or in such things. You got problems? Dont bother me with them. Do not get involved in any of my business and dont irritate me at all” he says, coldly? Nah, more like in a commanding tone.
I take a deep breath, before forcing a smile “sure, i shall not bother his highness with any trivial matters” a hint of sarcasm in my tone, before adding in “so where will i be staying?” I ask.
“At my house, guest room” he replies, “here?” As i glance around the place, now im no spoiled daughter but- “do you think i live here?” He raises an eyebrow, irritated as i shrugs my shoulders after looking him from head to toe. He scoffs “I have main house, my men will drive you there” he replies before leaving the room as if somewhere to be, while one of his men tells me to follow him.
(If anyone has any suggestions you think i can improve on lmk)
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Is life really worth living...?
Ive been fighting my life with tnis question ringing through my mind, ive answered yes and no before. Ive acted upon my yes and nos before.
Lets admit it, life is fucking terribke. No one likes life. People exist out of tgeir own will and hate themselves. Tgey mentally degrade themselves, physically harmthemselves, and emotionally lock themselves up. I can testify fkr all three.
"But why? What about the joys in life?" There is no real joy in life.
Friemds come and stay sure. Some will go and some wjll fade. True friends will never leave, but those are rare to find, especially today.
Little things. Little things tgat once made me estatjc brought me joy. Luttle things that once brouggt me joy made me happy. Little things that made me happy dont make me happy anymore. Ive grown numb.
My mind has been paralyzed with fear ad doubt and anxieties od the world and dwpressing ideas. Failure was all i kmew, and the steuggle tk merely exist grew too much to bear. Ive thought about God, wondering if he coukd still help me. If he would welcome me with open arms jnto the iridescent gates of heaven.
I craved God and his love, but i grew impatient to recieve it. Life grew worse in returm, and so did my thoughts. I needed God, so i wantedn him right away.
"To die is gain" paul once said. Of course i thought so when preparing my suicide attempt, fkrgettjng the rest of the verse. Downing pills, all 55 of them, i thought of Him. Of God. Woukd he be mad if i were to arrive in heaven early? Woukd i even make jt to heaven? Was i... was i truly saved?
A christian shoukd never think of suicide, let alome put it into action. Yet there i was, lying in bed wkth a foggy mind, shutting my eues in hopes to be greeted by my creator in the next few momens.
Yet i didnt.
I awoke in pain.
Unbearable pain.
That night was the worst ive experienced, lying helplessly on the bathroom floor with tears in my eeyes, clutching myself in pajn. 4 times i threw up, all through the night.
A grounding pain.
I couldnt breathe.
I was in so much pain,
I called to God
"Im sorry... im so sorry"
And He listened.
"Please let me live.. ill give all my life, all of everything to yoh... i can try, im sorry"
And He listined again.
And im greatful for that. I never thought i woukd be, byt i am.
That night passed, the nexr day i was considered "sick" by my mom, unknowing of my attempt. So what if she didnt knoe.
God knew.
The next few months, self harming grew worse. But i told a friend, a close friend. I told her eberything. All my struggles and attempt and
And she listened
And she cared
She helped me.. she assisted me and affirmed me and gave me love.. whule still knowing my dark thoughts... my tendencjes and habits. Even now she still does. She is a very clos friend tgat will never leave me no matter what,
And friends like that are rare to find, especally today.
So back to the question- is life realky worth livi g? This stressful shitty life that no one truly gives a fuck for? That people kill themselves ocer? That people cut themselves over? That people cry and panic over?
No. Its not,
But
The real worth is those who care. The close friemds tgat are there for you no matter what. Magbe you have them, maybe you dont. If you dont, im terribly sorry. I hope you find someone like that.
So yeah i hate life. Yeah i still have suicidal thoughts. Yeah i still self harm. But guess what? I have people to help.
I have friends
I have close friemds.
I have God.
And He gives me hope.
Thank you for everything @theweirdbox123 . You truly mean the world to me.
As well as @the-ellia-west . Thank yoh so much for everything.
I love yoh all.
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