#casting rain my beloved | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shemaycry · 5 months

Text

❛I’ll give you lessons, it’s so much to know. ❜ ⸺ Gojo Satoru

【⠀♱⠀】 SYNOPSIS. satoru just wants to show you how different real sex and literature sex is.

【⠀♱⠀】 AUTHOR’S NOTE. i know there’s like plenty of virgin x experienced satoru fics but i just wanted to write this one based off my own experience. so yeah, hope you enjoy there may be a part 2. 3K+ WORDS & PLEASE EXCUSE GRAMMAR MISTAKES

Novels were so easy to get lost in. The moment your eyes landed upon a link of words you were lost to the world; glued to the seat underneath you for hours until your eyes demanded rest.

This was your current situation; glued to your bed, back pressed against the hill of plush pillows whilst your eyes skimmed the sentences within the book. You held the paperback delicately, lips parting every so often to giddily act out a piece of dialogue.

You loved books. Loved reading them, writing them, and much more.

What you didn’t love, was being interrupted while reading one.

The knock against your door was enough to cause your head to snap to it, bottom lip curled tight under your teeth as annoyance threatened to bubble over. With a heavy sigh you slumped into your pillows, “Yes, Satoru?” Your voice ranged monotone, something you used frequently whenever your beloved roommate and friend; Gojo Satoru, decided he needed attention during your reading time.

The door opened with haste, the tall white-haired male entering with a small frown. “You never sound excited to see me.” Satoru breathed, hand rising and lowering against his chest as if truly wounded by your behavior. An act that dissipated the moment you rolled your eyes— the man chuckling and entering the room fully to sit upon the corner of your bed. “I’m bored.. The rain killed all my plans.”

His complaints were barely registered the moment your eyes landed back to your book— a single mhm escaping you instead. A silence covered the room, feeling your bed sink as his long form stretched out upon the edge. Still, your eyes remained on the manilla pages; far too consumed in the utter debauchery playing before your eyes.

Unfortunately for you, Satoru didn’t let this slide for long; given his hand rose to poke the bottom of your foot.

You blinked harshly, lowering the book to cast a glare his way; Satoru’s eyes elsewhere as if innocent. The moment you returned to your book however— he poked you again, going in for a third one just for good measure.

Your legs slid up quickly, book falling to your lap as you glared at the man. “Satoru, how old are you?!”

“I’m bored..” He repeated, cheek sinking into your soft blankets as his pretty eyes stared up at you. Any other time you would have gave into the infamous pout, but not this time. You were enjoying your book far too much.

“Not my problem, find something safe to do.” You huffed, grabbing your book from your lap to slap Satoru’s reaching hand with.

With a quick recoil of his hand, the man sat up, huffing softly. “Like what?”

You groaned, leaning back against your pillows. “I don’t know, Gojo. Cook a dish, sleep, maybe read a damn book— just stop worrying me to death!”

Silence carried around the room for a moment, a bout of anxiety settling deep in your stomach at the man’s unreadable expression. Have I upset him? Was the single thought running in your mind. There were times he was unbearably annoying but again— Satoru was your friend and someone you held very dear.

“Sato—“

“I’ll read a book.” The man rose from your bed slowly with a soft sigh. This alone caused the small bout to quickly grow; your eyebrows furrowing and racking your mind for the perfect apology.

Until.. your beloved roommate and great friend snatched your book right from your hands— dashing out of your room before you could even blink.

Your eyes slowly widened as you registered the situation, fighting with your blankets to throw off as expletives escaped your lips rapidly. You were finally free from the web of comfort— rushing out of your bedroom towards where you loudly heard Satoru reading your book.

“His voice was husky, low; a tone that caused warmth to spread from my stomach all the way to my toes..”

“Satoru— give me back my book!” You rushed towards his spot standing beside the coffee table, watching him raise the book higher and crane his neck to continue to read; all while with a shit eating grin.

“He was close now, eyelids low with plump lips slick with my..” Satoru’s words slowed, eyebrows coming close together for a split moment. “— arousal.” His eyes were wide at this point, falling to your face which held a mix between embarrassment and anger.

The two of you watched each other for a moment, lips forming into a grin and the other a frown; the silence breaking the moment you groaned and landed onto the couch. Satoru quickly followed, snickering to himself as he quickly went back a page;

“Looks like I need to reread for the full effect..“

“Satoru, bite your tongue and die—“

Your harsh words were over shown by his downright maniacal giggling as he read over the pages, leaning back against the cushions. You spared a glance to spot the bright smile drawn across his features, glossy lips parting to softly read out the scene.

Another groan escaped you as you leaned back, balling up the shirt you wore in your hands. You shouldn’t be this embarrassed, really— or should you? Sex was sex, obviously; but it was a little different to be sexually active and simply being reading about. Plus, it was no secret you were a virgin— so you were sure you looked like a perverted hornball.

You wanted to die right then and there.

Soon enough, however; your stolen book made contact with your lap, which caused your eyes to open and land onto the culprit.

Whose grin was still intact.

“So that’s why you wanted me to leave so badly.”

“Satoru, please..”

The man snorted softly, dimples deep and turning to face you. “I’m not making fun of you [Name], it’s normal— it’s like a guy watching porn..” His eyes trailed off for a moment, dancing about the room before clicking back to you. “— Though I have to ask, is this the same stuff you spend time writing about?”

The heat growing within you was becoming too much, washing over your face and causing the embarrassment to dive deeper and deeper. “N—not all of it!” You huffed, eyebrows pinched close as you watched the man raise his hands defensively.

“Like I said I’m not judging either way. It’s just, interesting is all..” He shrugged to himself, leaning back against the cushions as his arms stretched out upon the couch. Satoru’s eyes flicked to your own, grin deepening the moment he noticed your bewildered expression. The man, as teasing as ever— leaned over just a bit closer. “Because you’re a virgin, that’s why.”

“Oh.” You spoke softly, eyes falling from his face to your lap, lips pushed close for a moment— the heat in your face seething at this point. “Well yeah, it’s uh.. ya know, my imagination so it kind makes up for.. lack of experience?”

Satoru stifled a short laugh, slinking away and facing forward. “Your smut is completely different from the real thing, though.” He claimed, tone teetering between cocky and just a tad playful.

You rolled your eyes as a soft obviously escaped your lips hearing the man chuckle. Satoru wasn’t wrong, you were sure real life sex and literature were completely different. From reactions down to positions, it was bound to be very distinct.

Still, the question of how different lingered within you.

Slowly your eyes rose from your lap to settle upon your roommate and great friend, only to suck in a breath the moment you noticed his gaze already upon you. Nervously you wetted your bottom lip, bringing your arms even closer to your chest.

“H..how different?”

Without missing a beat the man was turning to face you, one arm falling to his lap.

“I could show you.”

Satoru’s words took a moment to register, you being unable to hear anything but your rapid heartbeat. It felt as if you were lit on fire, staring up at the man who glanced down at you with clear intent swirling in his eyes. His hand remained on his lap, waiting patiently for a response from your quivering lips.

He was your friend and roommate too; he was supposed to nothing more and nothing less. Every alarm was going off in your head, stating getting entangled in such a way would be a bad idea all around.

But, you ignored them. Wholeheartedly. The stiff nod you gave a clear response.

Except Satoru wasn’t having that, scooting closer as he shook his head at you. “I’m not words on paper,” He spoke cooly, staring down at you carefully. “—I need you to say it.”

You struggled to hold his intense gaze, eyes dancing just about anywhere to avoid it. Your hands fell to the pajama bottoms you wore, carefully clearing your throat. “I… Want you to show me.” You spoke softly, finally glancing back up at the man.

You breathed softly as he drew closer, feeling his hand fall to your thigh to part and intrude the space between them. Satoru lowered towards you, your eyes fluttering shut the moment you two kissed.

It was a embarrassing how inexperienced you were; barely being able to keep up with his lips despite the already slow pace. Your hands rose to grasp his arms, eyebrows pinching close as his tongue treaded across your mouth. A soft moan escaped you, causing his tongue to slither in and tangle with your own.

It was a foreign feeling, one that caused your mouth to ache and for a flutter to occur between your thighs. You gasped softly as his hand slid off the couch to your back, carefully pressing against it and lowering you onto the couch.

Satoru’s long form hovered over you, hand smoothing across your thigh for a moment before rising to the waistband of your pants. It simply rested there as he continued to mark your mouth as his own; lathering his tongue in the wet cavern and sucking on your own appendage to hear you whine. By the time he released from the kiss, drool was trickling down the side of your mouth, lips a mess and red from his own.

You panted softly, watching as he rested on his haunches. Satoru’s other hand met your waistband, toying with the fabric for a moment before removing his hands all together.

The action caused you to raise your eyebrow, biting the inside of your cheek. “Satoru, are y—“

“‘M waiting until you take your pants off.” He said as if the answer was obvious. The man made a show of leaning back to sit on his ass, arms crossed infront of him.

Whether to show he meant business or to restraint himself was something you would never know nor care for seeing as you were currently groaning at his words. You knew your pants would be off in the end anyway, but something about him doing it would.. well, ease your nerves somehow? Who knows, you can’t find an excuse in the moment.

Especially not when the man is simply grinning at you, refusing to make a move until you listened to his request.

Knots formed in your stomach as you rose your bottom half off the couch a bit, thumbs hooking on your pants and panties and slowly tugging them down your legs.

About halfway Satoru was helping, clearly impatient despite the look he was giving you just a moment ago. He tossed the garments off to the side, turning back to spot your thighs closed tight together.

The man blinked in response, even laughing a little to himself as his hands rose to rest upon your knees. “You always look so expressionless while reading your little books..” Satoru spoke coyly, thumbs lowering to press into your heated skin. “Yet here you are; legs closed and barely looking at me.”

“I’m nervous, Satoru. You can’t blame me.” You spoke softly, blinking up at the male who only smiled back. You hissed as his hands fell to the side of your thighs, his fingers trailing the skin to allow you to get used to the feeling.

“There’s no need to be. It’s just me, sweetheart.. no one else,” His voice was calm, easing your mind just a little. His hands lowered to the underside of your legs the moment he noticed you sinking into the couch more, thumbs peeking through the tiny slit between your legs. “— just you and Satoru.” That was enough to allow him to ease your legs apart, revealing your slick slit and more as he widened them further.

You grew uncomfortable under his gaze, adjusting yourself as your hands balled up the shirt you wore. Your stomach leaped however the moment you watched him began to lower and situate himself between your legs, face hovering just a breath away from your wet heat.

You hissed as his breath fanned against you, shivering the moment you felt his thumbs lower to gently pull your folds. “Satoru..” You whimpered softly, gasping as you felt his lips graze your pussy.

“Just relax for me..” Satoru hummed softly against you, tongue lolling out to lick a stripe up your slit. His hands tightened against your legs the moment you twitched, keeping your hips down against the couch as his tongue continued to work up and down your cunt.

You’ve never felt something like this before, it was well… weird. It’s not as if you were unfamiliar with pleasure in general. You’ve touched yourself enough to know what does and doesn’t feel good, or what type of response you would receive from yourself.

But Satoru was.. territory you have never encountered before. It was different, far too different to get used to in the moment. You were unable to contain the soft breaths and moans that escaped you, eyes screwed shut and not daring to look at the man currently ravishing you with just his tongue.

It was as if he had already studied your body; tongue dancing across your slit for a moment before lapping at your clit, squeezing your legs the moment they began to rise from the attention. Hearing your rushed cries was pure bliss, soft breathy moans escaping his mouth as he refused to allow you to move away from the pleasure.

Your back was arched now, arousal dripping down to your taint and surely the couch as Satoru sucked and licked your little bud raw. Your toes were curling, legs shaking, and your breath became labored; eyes peeking open to spot his gaze settled onto your face— clearly happy the moment you looked at him.

Satoru’s hand rose from your thigh and allowed his thumb to replace his mouth; rubbing your clit into circles, watching you carefully. “So wet, baby.. you hear it don’t you?” The man went silent whilst his thumb sped up, allowing you to hear the soft squelches of your pussy over the heavy breaths that were escaping you.

You gripped your shirt harshly, whimpering as your legs threatened to close from the pleasure. “S—satoru.. fuck, fuck..” You hissed the moment he leaned down again, feeling his tongue replace his thumb and set a harsh pace against your clit again.

What’s more, you felt his hand low, finger circling your sopping entrance for a moment before slowly pushing the long digit in. You whimpered at the sudden intrusion, but recovered quickly given the continued sucks and licks on your bud.

“Sato—satoru, fuck..!” You cried out, hands lowering to his fluffy white hair, taking the tresses between your fingers for something to hold. Your legs shook, bouncing about and threatening to close as his tongue sped up, while his finger slowly pushed in and out of your opening.

Your stomach was tense, grip tight, and mouth loose with moans as your orgasm hit you far too quickly; a beautiful string of sounds escaping you, as your legs shook around him. Satoru groaned into your sopping sex, gripping your leg as his actions never let up; carrying you through your orgasm effortlessly.

Little tears pricked at your eyes as pants escaped you and with shaky legs you were gripping his hair, pulling him away from your pussy quickly.

“Need to.. breath, Satoru.” You huffed softly, mouth hanging open and whining as you felt his finger slowly slide out of you. Through hazy vision you took in his beautiful features; spotting the red flushing his pale skin and the absolute mess of saliva and your essence coating the lower half of his face.

Satoru smiled up at you with low eyelids, circling the inside of your thigh with his thumb. “Breathe.” He hummed to you, rising up from between your legs to hover above you. The moment your eyes rose to meet his own, his head was lowering to plant a wet kiss to your cheek. “You don’t know how pretty you look like this, [Name].”

The warmth from both his actions and words were burning you up, your eyes shutting and not daring to look at him as a soft whine escaped you. You heard the man chuckle at you, feeling his hand gently squeeze your thigh.

“So shy..” Satoru teased, hand lowering to glide his fingers up and down your messy slit, paying extra attention to your bud with each pass. His eyes lowered as he spotted your legs widening, smile deepening in response. “You want more, huh? You want my mouth on this pretty pussy again, don’t you?”

The vulgar language had you whining, hips rising as soft pleas escaped you. This was enough for the man; slinking back to his previous position all while pushing at your thigh again.

His tongue moved up and down, side to side; reaching places that erupted feeling after feeling within you. Your mouth became raw from how loud you were becoming, arousal pooling under you as your grip never loosened on his hair.

Satoru’s breathing was heavy against you, tongue lowering to your hole and slowly pushing in; fucking you with the slimy appendage while working circles into your bud with his fingers. Despite these expert actions his eyes never left your face, feeling his cock strain within the confinements of his clothes.

Everything about you was addictive at this point. The moans you tried to cover, the way you absolutely refused to look at him, hell; even the twitches of your legs when the pleasure became too much. Satoru could only focus on you and nothing else. Especially not some dumb book that couldn’t make you feel half as good as he was right now.

Satoru’s tongue rose to allow his long digits to push into your awaiting entrance. The man hissed as your velvety walls clamped around them, using his thumb to circle your clit while he rose. “Can barely move my fingers, princess— you have to relax for me.”

You slowly nodded, a subtle pout forming as your hips rose. “‘M trying Satoru..” You huffed softly, eyes threatening to close as you felt his fingers pull back before pushing back in slowly. The pressure and pain dissipated the more you settled into the couch, pleasure even forming the moment his fingers curled. A moan escaped you shortly after, watching his grin widen.

“Good girl, that’s it..” He spoke sweetly. Yet his eyebrows furrowed the moment you closed your eyes, hand rising from your thigh take your cheeks in his hand— turning you forward again. “Mm.. don’t do that, lemme see you. Don’t look away.”

With how easily he was ruining you with his fingers, the task was difficult— but you obeyed; hands falling to his shoulders to hold tightly.

Your hips shook, rising to meet the thrusts of his fingers as a continuous honeyed melody fell from your swollen lips. Praises escaped the man above you as he felt your walls pulse rapidly, his thrusts increasing the moment your moans began to pitch.

“Fuck..! Satoru, I’m close!”

Your whimpers went unheeded, his pace quickening as he leaned down to press his lips against your neck. Your hips rose in the air for the last time as a prolonged moan escaped you, making a mess all over his hand.

This time Satoru pulled his hand away, allowing you to regain your breath while kissing your skin. Your grip loosened upon his body, eyelids falling shut as your pants slowed carefully.

A silence carried in the room until Satoru leaned down, resting his forehead against your own as he spoke;

“Do you know the difference now, [Name]?”

Regaining your breath, your hand rose to smooth across his neat undercut.

“Yeah, yeah I do..”

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !

2K notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 5 months

Text

Propaganda

Burt Lancaster (The Rain Maker, The Unforgiven)—doesn't the picture do all the talking? as if that wasn't enough he was a big supporter of civil rights, and campaigned against aids in support of his friend rock hudson :') i just think social engagement is sexy :')

Toshiro Mifune (Rashumon, Seven Samurai, Grand Prix, Stray Dog)—"i love and respect my boi tab hunter (rest in peace you beautiful, beautiful man ❤️), but after i watched like 12 of his movies in a row on tcm last year, i ALSO love and respect toshiro mifune, son of a literal actual hatamoto's (a high-ranking samurai) daughter, also very possibly related to the best judokan EVER, AND, he's the guy who SHOULD have been obi-wan kenobi. the fact that he's ALSO hot as hell just adds to his appeal."

This is round 2 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Burt Lancaster propaganda (I couldn't post the gifs, I'm sorry for those who submitted them—reblog and I'll boost):

Toshiro Mifune propaganda:

this video

"In addition, he spoke fluent mandarin and every time he was casted in foreign films, he said his lines in the language of the movie (although they ended up dubbing him. He wasn't happy about it though)."

#toshiro mifune #burt lancaster #hotvintagepoll #round 2 #fuck that old man

792 notes · View notes

gffa · 7 months

Text

It is still absolutely a marvel to me how much BATFAMILY fic I have been reading and enjoying, it's been awhile since I've gone at such a sustained fever pitch so consistently, which is because this fandom keeps putting out fic that makes me fall in love all over again, along with all the comics I've been reading and enjoying. I am so delighted by how I can bounce around various eras or characters (well, let's be fair, I still have a Dick Grayson Problem That I Am Making Your Problem Too) and there's so much to read that I'm having trouble keeping up!

Join me in having the best problem: Too much good fic to read, because I swear that even when I'm crying because fic has punched me in the feelings, I'm still having a great time and it's definitely not a trap to lure you all into crying with me. Well, unless you're into that. And, in that case, READ AND CRY AND/OR MELT INTO GOO WITH ME, BECAUSE FANDOM IS PROVIDING.

BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ Step One: Learning to Catch by TheBlueMoo, dick & bruce, 2k “Okay, now extend your arms.” It was jarring, Bruce reflected, to be taking instructions from his nine-year-old ward. He was trying to think of it as receiving lessons from an expert gymnast instead, but it wasn’t really helping. or Dick freaks out during training one night, and Bruce isn't entirely sure why ✦ the quiet noise by orphan_account, dick & clark & jim (& bruce), 3.4k When Batman is in surgery after a stab wound to the lung, Commissioner Gordon sits with Robin at the hospital as they wait for someone from the league to arrive. ✦ The art of falling in the rain by Bob_the_bastard, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.4k Ordinarily it wouldn’t have been an issue, ordinarily Bruce would have taken a few steps back, caught his breath and continued on. But that night wasn’t normal. ✦ Our roots will not whither away by KrazySuperGirl, dick & bruce & alfred & cast, 6.4k Bruce and Dick return to Gotham. There are plenty of problems and plenty of good days. ✦ Will Protect You From All Around You by zombiesbecrazy, dick & bruce, 3k Bruce has always expected that one day he'll wake up and feel like a Real Adult, but it hasn't happened yet. Why had he thought that this parenting thing would be easy? ✦ Fly South by SonoSvegliato, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.9k Birds fly south in winter. Robin leaves in the summer. ✦ Vertigo by tinycrown, dick & bruce & ollie & cast, 1.8k After being ambushed by Count Vertigo's men, Batman's partner isn't doing so well. Green Arrow observes. ✦ Friends by mx_chrx99, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.3k The manor loomed large, surrounded by acres of manicured grass and trees bursting with autumnal colors that made Dick feel like he was gazing at a forest on fire. He was distantly aware that the scene in front of him was incredible, something out of a storybook. He should have been amazed and even grateful, but all he could think was, 'Mom would have loved this.' ✦ There For You by Val_Creative, dick & bruce & cast, 2.4k Snapshots of how Robin came to be Batman's trusted partner and how Dick became Bruce's beloved son. /Standalone. No pairings. ✦ tummy troubles by brandywine421, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.5k Bruce sat down on the edge of the bed and warily pulled back the covers. Dick blinked at him with wide, sad blue eyes. "What's wrong?" "Don't feel good," he murmured, scowling when Bruce curled his hand against his cheek. "My stomach hurts." ✦ Stay a Child by ijustwanttodestroy, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.2k “Redo it,” Bruce orders. “Aw, come on!” Dick dares to pout — a thing that he uses often, and would work on anyone but Bruce and Alfred. Sometimes. Bruce gives him a look. “I’m not going to do it for you.” “I’m going to misdo it until you do,” Dick threatens. ✦ Whole, but not hale by Fae_Winter, dick & bruce & alfred & clark, 1.5k Bruce was never listening to Clark again, damnit ✦ Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes by catboysam, dick & bruce, 1k Bruce wishes, as he has wished every minute of every day for nearly 20 years, that things were different for himself. But now he also wishes that for Dick. No child should have to experience what they have. But he really is selfish, it seems, because at the same time, how could he possibly want to give up a single second with this little miracle in his arms? ✦ yet to be friends by rxsecret, dick & bruce & clark & cast, 2.3k It's the annual Wayne Gala, and one of the few reporters allowed at the event just so happened to be from Metropolis. ✦ And I’ll look into your eyes to find out if I’m real by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick, 1.6k Bruce wants a lot of things. A bath. Seeing his family. Not having been missing for a whole year. He wants Dick to wake up and realize he’s not a hallucination.

BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ medicine by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, ~1k “We have to get out of here,” Dick says, trying and failing to sit up. “Before, before they get back.” “Dick, listen to me. You’re sick,” Bruce says, running a hand through Dick’s hair. “You’re in an isolation unit at the Watchtower’s medical bay.” Dick shakes his head. That can’t be right. “They’re trying to, to poison me.” ✦ Someday All Of This Will Go Away by WanderIntoFics, dick & bruce, alternate version character death, 2.3k Bruce never stopped telling Dick he loved him. It takes a heart-wrenching and terrifying experience with an alternate future Bruce for Dick to realize that maybe he stopped being able to hear it. ✦ vacation town by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, 1.6k Normally, Dick wouldn't enjoy recovering from a stab wound from a poisoned knife, but he has to admit, it's nice to be home. ✦ all i can by emavee, dick & bruce, 1.7k Whatever they injected Dick with is taking away his senses. Bruce tries to hold on for both of them. ✦ my arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm by emavee, dick & bruce, 5.6k wip Five times Dick held Bruce's hand, and one time Bruce held his. ✦ Moving on by Fleur_de_Violette, dick & bruce & cast, 2.7k When he’d been called to Gotham, Dick had expected to do the job and then get moving to the next thing, and then the next, and then the next. An abrupt meeting with the side of a building interrupts his plans.

BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ Chatterbox by Ptelea, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & donna & roy & cast, 24.7k "Yeah, I'm fine," Dick said. Then he frowned, because he had not just meant to say that. Or: Eight times that spells or serums affected Dick's ability to speak and / or their aftermath. ✦ Misremembered and Misnumbered by miss_aphelion, bruce & dick & jason & clark & diana, 1.9k Dick may not actually be quite as old as he told everyone he was. In his defense, it wasn't so much lying as that he sort of just forgot. ✦ WE'LL LIVE IN SPACES BETWEEN WALLS. by orpheusaki, bruce & dick & jason, time travel, 4.6k (Something is different about Dick. Bruce notices.) ✦ Tonight Will Be a Memory Too by Sohotthateveryonedied, dick & cass & bruce, 1.2k They don’t happen often—once a month or so, with varying degrees of spottiness. Sometimes Dick will walk into a room and forget what he’s there for. He’ll forget the locations of things, like where he left his keys or where the refrigerator is. Once he forgot his own name. Even if the episodes don’t occur often, that doesn’t make them any less terrifying. ✦ Can I Sleep With You? by Lady_of_Lorule, dick & bruce & damian & titans & cast, 2k “Dick? What is it? Are you okay?” he asked. “‘Had a nightmare,” the boy murmured, wiping at his nose quickly, then sending a darting look at Bruce. “Can I...can I sleep with you?” ✦ Broken Silence by Geeves, bruce & dick & cast, 1.3k Bruce reflects on how quiet the manor used to be. It could be painful at times, but it's not like that anymore. ✦ the care and keeping of your baby talon by quandaries_and_contradictions, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & duke & alfred, reverse robins, talon!dick, 6k In which everyone is more than a little cautious about the talon Duke brought home. Featuring chandelier swinging, Secret Garden reading, ill-advised sleuthing, and more. ✦ One, Two, Buckle My Shoe by Anonymous, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & alfred & cast, 11.3k wip Dick was twenty-eight. The boy in the mirror most certainly was not. ✦ Iron Bound by coyote_nebula, bruce & dick & jason, 3.1k Batman never ran out of solutions. He just ran out of ideal solutions. Nightwing finds himself in a tight spot involving a compact car-sized paper roll. ✦ The Mantle by ValleyOfKings, dick & clark & diana & justice league (& bruce) & cast, 2.9k Batman ‘dies’ and Dick must takes his place. He doesn't want the job but he knows that it is what he must do. He must accept the mantle and protect Gotham. The Justice League must also accept their new Batman. It might have helped if they knew that Batman didn't work as alone as they had once thought. ✦ Bravery, and everything that looks like it by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick & steph, 3.4k Bruce had promised Dick a fun and chill weekend. Instead, they find themselves in the middle of a burning chemical facility. When he thinks everyone should have been evacuated, Nightwing finds a scientist trying to secure some sort of container. She’s either very brave, or she has a death wish.

BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I'M GONNA THROW HIM AT DICK BECAUSE IT'S FUNNY (AND MAYBE SOME OF HIS OTHER SIBLINGS TOO): ✦ Superhero: Dick Grayson by batmoniker, dick & jason & cast, 5.3k In which Dick shows up at the school to pick Jason up after he gets into a fight. ✦ Homecoming by sElkieNight60, dick & jason & bruce, 1.2k Jason's doped up on pain-meds. Dick's holding his hand while he's bedside monitor. Bruce probably wishes he had a camera. ✦ I do not have wings love (I never will) by dizarys, dick & jason & bruce, 2.5k Jason Todd was alive. He was also bleeding out on Dick Grayson’s apartment floor. How 'Under the Red Hood' might have ended if Dick was at Bruce and Jason's final warehouse confrontation.

BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ cashmere-soft and irresistible by victoria_p (musesfool), cass/steph, ~1k Cass and Steph and dumplings and lipstick. ✦ Picking Up Pieces by Cephalogod, bruce & steph & dick, 4k “Bruce!” Steph called as she approached, weaving between people. His head snapped towards her, and the stark relief in his expression almost stopped her in her tracks. That was just...wrong. Bruce wasn’t supposed to be relieved to see her. He was supposed to be annoyed or resignedly amused, not looking at her like a life raft in the ocean. ✦ Make an Ass of U and Me by Huntress79, Sevidri, bruce/clark & dick, 11.2k Bruce neglects to explain exactly who the attractive young man that seems to know him so well is, and what their relationship entails. Naturally, there are some misunderstandings. ✦ Presque Vu by PechoraFlow, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred & cast, 17.4k wip Bruce gets amnesia and the Batfamily conspires to keep their vigilante side secret from him. They were just trying to keep him home, safe until he recovered. They expected that Bruce would pick up on clues and put together The Batman secret on his own. They didn't expect him to form a different picture entirely. They didn't expect Bruce Wayne would come to hate the Batman.

BATFAM FIC RECS - I CUT MY TEETH ON DICK & TIM AS CLOSE BROTHERS AND NO ONE WILL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME: ✦ spread your wings by wingedgrace, dick & tim, 2.1k “Why did you give Robin to Damian?” Dick pinched his nose. He’d started to pick up some of Batman’s habits, whether he realized it or not. “Tim, we’re not talking about this again. We’re talking about how you’re off on this… quest, to prove that Bruce is still alive. And I just want to talk. Come home.” ✦ Time Loop vs Ethiopia by AJElementus, dick & tim (& bruce & jason), 9.1k In one universe, Jason died while Dick was on a space mission with the Titans. In another? There’s a time loop. In which Jason doesn’t die, Tim joins the family early, and Dick... well... Dick's just trying to figure out what's going on! ✦ so won't you stay, won't you stay (with me?) by dizarys, dick & tim, 1.3k Tim's having a hard night. So where else does he go but to his big brother's apartment? ✦ under the wing by acrobats, dick & tim & cast, 1.4k “Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero.” – Marc Brown

BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE'S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ buy back the secrets by sundiscus, tim/kon & bruce & clark & jason & cast, 71k wip He takes a long, slow breath. Ignores the glares from the other students. “Superboy,” he murmurs. “It’s me. If you’re listening, I could use some help.” Or: 5 times Superboy saves Tim Drake, and one time Tim Drake saves Superboy. ✦ Can't Shake the Feeling by Hayleythewriter, tim/kon & tim/bernard & cassie & bart & dick & damian & cast, 17k Tim introduces his boyfriend to his friends. Almost everyone likes him. ✦ The Electric Pull of Spring by Merelymine, tim/kon, nsfw, 4.3k "I feel fine," Kon says, breathing deeply. He leans towards Tim and takes an even deeper, longer breath. "I feel really, really good, actually. And you smell—you smell really good." ✦ A No Good Very Bad Day by mademoisellePlume, tim/kon & jason & lois, read the tags, 3.7k You’d think drugging a half-Kryptonian into sleep would be half as easy as taking a full Kryptonian out of commission. But no, life couldn’t be that simple for Jason, could it? He watched Superboy stumble down the hallway in his pyjama pants, eyes half-lidded and sweating like Two-Face when a flipped coin balanced on its edge. ✦ Pandora's Other Box by FridaysChild, tim/kon & dick & bart & kate & ma kent, 2.5k Prompt: "Kon and Tim identify as straight. After realising their mutual attraction, they both freak out in different ways."

BATFAM FIC RECS - I SAY THIS IS A BATFAM REC LIST BUT SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA SHOVE THOSE ASSHOLES OUT OF THE WAY AND READ SOME SUPERFIC: ✦ Adoptions by Kannika, clark & conner & cast, 2.7k Clark prepared for a lot of things, getting closer to Conner. This is not one of them. ✦ Aftershock by sElkieNight60, clark/lois & conner & jon, 13k wip He knows this is awkward for Clark. It’s awkward for them both. They were gonna start slow. Warm up to each other. Maybe go apple-picking in the summer. A movie, a restaurant, bowling, or something. But a sleepover, really? That wasn’t going slow. ✦ IS IT JUST YOU AND ME IN THE WRECKAGE OF THE WORLD? by orpheusaki, clark & conner & bruce & diana & jason & cast, 2.2k "You look happy, Kal." She's right, Clark is overjoyed. In between shopping for children's clothes with Lois (after she'd gotten over the shock of it all, which was surprisingly quick. Clark thinks Lois might prefer Conner to him now, not that he blames her for it) and wandering around the Fortress of Solitude with a small palm tucked into his own, Clark hasn't stopped grinning, "Superman is no longer the only Kryptonian alive." (Clark saves Conner from CADMUS as a child AU.)

BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ oh but if I could choose, I would choose not to feel by dizarys, bruce & dick & donna & cast, 1.4k His eyes flicked over the long room, evaluating and searching. When he finally spotted him, Bruce’s heart plummeted. Dick Grayson was slouched at the crumb flecked bar counter, staring blankly into a barely touched pint with a hand twisted in his hair. Misery personified. ✦ batman by hellsreluctantheir, dick & jason & tim & bruce, 57.3k Dick came back from a trip to space to a dead father figure, a grieving, guilty little brother, and a legacy waiting for him. Suddenly he's moving back to Gotham, playing Bat, trying to keep Jason from spiraling, trying to keep himself from spiraling, with the added bonus of a kid stalking him at the grocery store. It takes two years before things start to feel like they're getting better. Which is right about when the Red Hood comes to town. ✦ Day 3 - Nightmares (2.2) by fanfictiongreenirises, bruce & dick & tim, 3.3k Bruce is resigned to the nightmares after their most recent kidnapping. But that doesn't mean they don't have an impact on him. ✦ My Brother's Keeper by Chemical_Processes, dick & damian & tim & cast, 6.2k Tim gets hit with Fear while on a league mission, and it's Damian's job to get him home in one piece. ✦ Pale Reflections by BearlyWriting, bruce & dick & jason & tim & cast, 2.6k ‘Bruce blinks again. A chill breeze brushes against him, searching for a way through his uniform. Concrete, Bruce tells himself, it’s concrete, not sand. It’s water, not blood. It’s Dick. And yet, he’s as still as Jason was then, as lifeless. Bruce moves without thinking. He isn’t thinking. His mind is utterly blank, a void in his head.’ ✦ love brought weight to this heart by dizarys, bruce & dick & john & mary & damian & duke, 1.9k Of course Dick came by every time Haly’s was in town. But he loved when his family was able to join him. And now, with lights illuminating the big top, performers streaming into the ring with flashy costumes, and his family enthralled, Dick felt at peace. Both sides of his life were together. It should’ve been perfect. And looking back, he still wasn’t sure what pushed it off course. But it might have been the fire. ✦ what's in a name by envysparkler, bruce & dick & jason, 4.5k Kidnappers strike at a gala and abduct two of Bruce Wayne’s sons. Or at least that’s what they think. ✦ I’m gambling with the sun (on which one of us dies young) by dizarys, dick & jason & donna & roy & tim & damian & cassandra & cast, 6.9k The Justice League have been wiped from existence by Pariah, leaving Nightwing to once again navigate the death of Batman. But this time, even with his siblings and friends rallying around him, the cracks start to show ✦ (someone told me) love would all save us by YouAreTheBrightest234 (TransLucas), bruce & dick & tim, 1k Dick is floating in an abyss of black. It is not peaceful, yet not malicious. It simply is. ✦ Slipping 998° by CKBookish, bruce & dick & tim & cast, 2.5k When a house fire turns deadly Bruce wonders if he will be too late... again.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #clark kent #conner kent #timkon #fic recs #batman fic recs #long post

874 notes · View notes

romanoffsbish · 4 months

Text

Please, Forgive Me

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

You broke up with Natasha—what have you done? | WC: 1,882

Warnings: Brief Angst | Toxic “Friend” / Natasha (if you squint) | Nonsexual Nudity (18+) | H/C Ending

“You look really pretty," Valerie, your best friend said with a smile that made your stomach flip into turmoil.

——

The smile on her face dropped, the sound of your chair scraping against the linoleum the clearest rejection. It made you sick and regretful for the last twelve hours.

It was an adrenaline rush spurred on by another fight with your beloved girlfriend, Natasha... Your beautiful, sweet Natasha with enamoring eyes and a sultry smirk.

You lurched up the dinner you just shared with that traitor Valerie, who smiled at you so tenderly, it was alarming. With her repulsive blue eyes, riddled with darker hued lines to which you confused with safety.

They were dangerous; a dark storm you got caught up in, not much unlike the one you were running through.

You missed the soft pair of green that belonged to the woman who owned the key to your heart and knew the way to unlocking your soul with purposeful fingers.

Looking into her eyes was a luxury only you and Yelena were granted; the halves of Natasha's heart, oh my...

You'd broken that heart only thirteen hours ago, now you were running through the rain to make amends. It was well past midnight but you had to get across town to the compound Natasha was unfortunately staying at.

If only you would have cast that she-devil aside at the first warning Natasha threw your way you'd be safe in her arms right now, likely looking into her eyes that reflected the same heat the fire beside you would've.

Natasha's eyes were your favorite feature, truly. The way they changed your view of her in various places always filled you with wonder on how she saw yours in the first place, she was just too good for this world.

At the compound they were almost always glazed over with a clear authority no one could question. From a side glance you'd see the Black Widow, but whenever she looked your way, which was often when you'd visit, there was a sparkle of humanity reserved for you alone.

Inside the four walls of your apartment her eyes always shined like brilliant emeralds, and her teasing smirk oftentimes softened into a goofy smile; a pure love that unfolded within her irises, right before your very own.

When you were outside she'd usually wear sunglasses, but on the off chance she'd forgotten them you could see the way the sun drew out light splotches of brown. Which fondly reminded you of the days you two spent wandering the countryside, getting lost in forests with shades of green that reflected the same field you got lost in every time you looked into your lovers orbs.

They were complex—guarded, but you had worn down her walls enough to get a peak into her greatest joys and most heartbreaking sadness. You blinked hard, a hand on the freezing call box outside of the compound going unfelt as you tried to forget the pools of sadness.

Those were the last things you saw when you broke up.

The thought alone nearly halts you, the minuscule contents left within your stomach churning tauntingly as if to remind you that this was all your fault. Valerie told you Natasha was being toxic, and in some twisted sense you actually believed the hypocrites words.

You told Natasha she was toxic, and you knew how much that likely shattered her remaining self image.

What kind of person does that to the love of their life?

All of you wanted to push the code and call out to her, but you realized now how selfish it was to expect her to console you. This heartbreak was all your own doing because you truly thought Valerie was your friend, that she was right thinking Nat was being controlling, but she was a two face liar and you were an absolute fool.

Natasha deserved better, your hand fell from the box and you were prepared to walk away, but a soft voice full of exhaustion called through the speaker, "Y/N?"

All you could do was to pitifully whimper her name.

You cast a look down at your watch, a photo of the two of you smiling popped up under a bright red 1:32AM that flashed beneath a raindrop, which magnified the early morning hour that filled you with shame.

There was no time to apologize for the impromptu arrival as you heard the loud buzz that let you in. You resumed your sprint and through your tears made it to the place Natasha stood ready to catch you in her arms. The impact had to have hurt her just as it did you but she stood strong, like an unmovable fortress. A warm breath fanned over your chilled cheek and fresh hot guilt trailed down your cheeks when you felt her relax.

Natasha wasn't angry, no, she was relieved. This was meant to inspire joy in you but it hurt you more. Of course the woman would forgive you just like that.

"I'm so sorry Nat," you wailed, breaking the silence, "Fu-fuck, I can't believe I-I," you couldn't stop the harsh hiccups that stopped your heartfelt apology.

This absolutely made Natasha panic, you had stopped breathing for more than three seconds, she was about to rush you to the medical wing if not for your sharp inhale. "Keep breathing detka, just breathe, please."

You looked up into her eyes and for the first time ever you saw fear, in the bravest set of eyes you'd ever seen.

"I," you tried again but she pecked your lips shut. "I don't need you to apologize detka, you coming back to me is apology enough. I'm not mad, just worried, so please don't fuss and just let me take you inside..."

Natasha was a warrior but right now she was breaking, her eyes were pleading with you to finally stand down. To wave your white flag and let her fix everything.

"Okay," you whispered, and were rewarded with a warm kiss to your cheek that sent a shiver down your spine, which didn't go unnoticed by the worried spy.

Without question the redhead took you straight to her room and ran you a bath that likely rivaled the devil's. The redhead preferred room temp but never backed down from the challenge when it meant she could hold you close. Tonight was different though, even if she didn't need your apology she did need your consent.

In your relationship, that was technically called off, it was always welcome unless announced otherwise.

Natasha made no assumptions, and simply escorted you into the room when she deemed you'd adjusted to the rooms temperature enough before you were set to enter another that would have been polar opposite.

But you stopped her dead in her respectful tracks.

"Stay." She couldn't say no even if she wanted to, the way you looked over at her, like a frightened mouse, it made her forget all of the pain from the prior day.

There was nothing but tenderness in her touch when she tilted you up and slid in behind you. Her arms didn't even have a chance to settle around you as you instantly rolled over. Natasha had huffed in genuine surprise when you straddled her, your arms dangling over her shoulders as your face pressed into her neck. Her muscular arms locked over one another around your lower back and she hummed a soothing tune.

A gentle smile adorned Natasha's face when she heard the first snore then felt it rumble against her skin. She was ticklish and suddenly desperate to clean the both of you up and get you tucked into her Avengers bed.

The first time she heard you call the mattress that with such disgust she became defensive. But, before she could match your energy you elaborated and it was so sweet, how you regarded your apartment bed as hers, that she learned to listen first and question later.

Natasha knew yesterday afternoon that you'd come back, once you've had time to think of course. Not because she was manipulative or cocky either, but because she believed in not only your love, but her gut. She knew that as soon as you saw Valerie's intentions you'd come here to apologize for thoughts given to you.

The glint in your eyes when you're being truthful was missing when you broke things off, and so she knew this was just a standard moment of lived experience.

Natasha knew you wholly, which is why she knew better than to expect you to stay asleep when she left the room. She returned to find you sat up, the sleeves of her hoodie were balled up in your fists that rubbed your eyes in an attempt to make your vision less bleary.

"Detka," she hummed, it was angelic like, "I made you some tea because I wanna get ahead of your cold."

You pouted and shook your head. "Natasha..."

A tense sigh left her and your back straightened.

"I am not mad Y/N," her tone was level and void of unsureness, "you can't sway me because I love you, and I know you were being poisoned by your dear friend."

"Enemy," you corrected venomously and she chuckled heartily, as if your distaste healed her fresh wounds.

"The point is I love you and knew you loved me too."

"I do," you pleaded with pooling tears in your eyes. "You are my one and only Natasha, I'm so sorry."

"Don't cry pretty girl," she wiped away tears that slid halfway down your cheeks. "Don't be sorry either, I think we're stronger than this moment detka."

"But I hurt you, you should hate me." Natasha gritted her teeth and nearly spilled the tea as she set it down with a purposeful slam. "Don't ever say that again."

You blinked in shock as she gripped your chin and forced you to stop staring at the wall behind her, and into her eyes instead. Another sob shakily left your lips as you wordlessly understood the truth in them, she wasn't capable of doing anything else but loving you.

Instead of trying to make your point that she deserved better, which you knew would be futile, you leaned in and kissed her with a gentle passion. "I'm sorry..."

"I forgive you," Natasha relented, giving you a sense of closure even if she didn't mean the words. Her entire life up until you required a ruthless demeanor, but she has taken so well to the softer side of life with you. It was impossible for her to feel the anger she should towards you when you'd done nothing maliciously.

You called her toxic, it hurt; you didn't mean it though.

Intent is everything to the woman, and she knew yours was, ironically, under the influence of another's words.

Plus, Natasha knew on some level that she was toxic—it was something Valerie would come to find out once the redhead finally tapped into the fresh heartbreak...

For now though, she'd hold you close and listen to the way you breathed, a warmth, layered with a sense of calmness crept into her chest and soothed her woes with every subtle reminder that you were still hers.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff hurt comfort #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x female reader #gxg #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader

243 notes · View notes

lirotation · 4 months

Text

Ever since a discussion about the mortality of my human Tav with my fellow Tavs on Tumblr, the idea has become an intrusive thought🤣. I couldn't shake it from my mind, so I decided to confront it. I chose to explore the worst-case scenario.

Astarion X F!Tav, warning, character death.

Oh my gosh, I couldn't think about anything else! But now I feel better =) The lyrics are from the song "Let Me Down Slowly" by Alec Benjamin, which seems to be popping up everywhere for me recently! It was meant to be.

_____________________

The rain poured down in relentless sheets, obscuring the old gothic manor in a heavy gray veil. Inside, the candles flickered softly as Astarion combed his fingers gently through Amaara's hair. Her skin was pale and cold under his touch, she had passed in her sleep, her life of many decades finally at its end.

Astarion dressed her in finery befitting his princess, never taking his eyes from her still face. He lifted her fragile body, holding her close to his silent heart, and carried her through the corridors of their home, the echo of his steps filling the emptiness left behind.

Down into the secret crypt below he took her. The chamber was illuminated by candles that cast dancing shadows on the stone walls. He lay her gently in an ornate double coffin, positioning her with care one last time. His vision blurred as tears threatened to spill out at the thought of an eternity without her laughter to drive away the dark.

So soon...too soon...

A dry, wrecked sob clawed up his throat as he stretched his lean body beside hers inside the casket. He turned to face her, drinking in every beloved feature - the graceful arch of her brow, the gentle slope of her nose. With infinite tenderness, he ran the back of his hand against the line of her jaw, tracing its elegant curve.

He threaded his long, pale fingers into her thinned silver hair, soft strands pooling like mercury in his palm. He cradled the nape of her neck, his thumb caressing the tender skin behind her ear just the way she always loved. Each gesture was etched with reverence and sorrow, communicating wordlessly all the affection and devotion that overflowed from his shattered heart.

In the muted candlelight, she could have been merely sleeping, poised on the cusp of awakening. But her skin was growing colder under his touch with each moment, the last of her warmth fleeing to merge with the eternal night. Soon all that would remain of his beating heart would be a decomposing shell. The anguished realization tore through him anew, and he released a thin, keening cry like a creature skewered through the soul.

At last, Astarion forced his quivering fingers to release her. With agonizing restraint, he gently smoothed back a few errant strands of her pale hair, arranging them flawlessly across the plush satin pillow.

He shifted slowly onto his back beside her. Reaching up with a leaden arm, he grasped the ornately carved lid of the casket. As he gradually pulled the heavy cover down, shadow crept over their forms. Her alabaster features were swallowed up inch by inch in the hungry darkness.

With a muffled thud that reverberated through his entire spirit, the cover closed completely. The chamber became at once a bridal suite and a tomb, its occupants trapped by cruel fate.

Astarion shuddered in the darkness. The familiar confines of a coffin, once a hellish prison, now served as his refuge from the fresh anguish threatening to consume him.

When Cazador had buried him years ago, the crushing isolation and helplessness nearly shattered Astarion’s sanity. But here, cocooned with his lost beloved, the cold casket took on the bittersweet air of a marriage bed on their final night together. He welcomed the isolation, sought solace in it. Here he could muffle the bleeding, gaping wound in his soul with the old, healed over scars of past trauma. By wrapping himself in familiar pain, its sharp sting would numb the fresh, unendurable agony of Amaara’s absence.

In this chamber of death, Astarion found his only chance for even transient peace. Here he could hold the cruelties of time and fate at bay, if only for a few decades of dreamless slumber next to his beloved. Here he could forget, could almost pretend the sweet burden in his arms still drew breath... before mere memory of her touch faded like everything else into the hungry dark.

#You know who you are lol #This did not really happen to my couple #just an exercise #now I can go back to my WIPs

172 notes · View notes

lucky-bucky-boy · 1 year

Text

Blooming Showers

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: A split-second decision leads to a night full of changes

Word Count: 3610

Warnings: Angst with some fluff at the end, little use of Y/N, assigned nickname towards the end, distrust, anger, wound/mention of blood, anxiety, racing thoughts, friends-to-lovers

A/N: This is definitely my longest piece I’ve written in a really long time. I started watching TASM with my cousin and friends and immediately fell in love with Andrew Garfield all over again so I NEEDED to write something. This isn’t smutty but I kind of want to do a part two thats smutty and angsty

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

Rain softly padded against the window, causing the lights from outside to cast soft shadows, the lights from passing cars making those shadows dance. It was quiet, almost serene in New York - the sirens were few a far between tonight, and distant as well, the occasional coo of a bird trying to find shelter - there were no kids running down the fire escape trying to sneak out, no couples in petty arguments that shook through the thin walls.

Nights like this were few and far in-between, where for a few minutes you were able to fall in love with your city all over again, and you were able to remember every reason why you wanted to be here.

The only thing that would've made the night better would have been seeing Peter, your lifelong best friend, and partner-in-chaos. Your phone lit up occasionally with messages from him, apologizing over and over for missing another scheduled movie night.

It wasn't the end of the world, Aunt May needed help with something so you understood, but it still stung. This was the 4th one this year he'd miss. You understood when there was a foot of snow on the ground, and when midterms then finals week came, but it had felt like since graduation two weeks ago that Peter had been avoiding you.

Trying not to dwell on the sinking feeling was hard, so many changes were happening and your brain was becoming more and more hyper-aware that more changes were bound to come. Graduation may overall be a good thing, opening up new opportunities and finally not having to worry about classes you'd never use a day in your adult life, but it also meant that you were about to start a new chapter of life.

In an attempt to stop the racing thoughts, you decided Fuck Peter for missing your movie night and decided to watch a movie anyways. Pressing play on an old favorite, you left the comfort of your bed to grab some snacks from the kitchen.

Ten minutes. That's all you were gone, but in those ten minutes, the city's beloved vigilante slid your window open, practically tumbling off of the fire escape and onto the floor. He did his best to avoid your bed, not wanting to soak it in the rain or the blood that was on him.

There was a cut through his suit, not deep but enough to nick the skin and have scarlet drops dripping down. He reached for a towel that had been carelessly discarded by you earlier in the night, haphazardly tying his cut up with his free hand and then pulling his mask off.

Peter's breaths were rugged, head now leaned back against your bed as he tried to calm himself from the adrenaline rush of the near-death experience he just had. Sure, he only had a cut and a few bruises to show for it, but he knew deep down without his enhanced sense he surely would have been dead. He hadn't even processed the split-second decision he made to go to your apartment instead of Aunt May's house.

It wasn't until your shrill scream, the sound of the snacks hitting the floor that Peter's eyes flew open, looking at you as if he had just been caught committing a crime. His eyes were wide, realizing at that very moment the weight of his actions and inactions for the past several years. He didn't dare move, only a breathy sigh of your name leaving his lips.

Your brain moved quickly once you realize that the intruder sitting on your floor was Peter… Your Peter, dressed in a red and blue skin-tight suit, holding a mask, with your towel wrapped around his arm. There had to be a reasonable explanation.

"Peter?" You knew it was him, but your brain was still attempting to come up with some explanation as to why he was dressed as Spider-Man.

You quickly grabbed the stuff you had dropped, putting it on the bed and kneeling next to him. "Peter, what the fuck is going on?"

He stared at you, blinking a few times and not sure what to say. He knew there was a lot he needed to say, a lot that needed to be explained but he didn't know where to start. He's been lying to you about a part of himself for years now.

"I'm sorry," he breathed out, breaths still shaky.

You now realized the towel was covering a cut, the smell of iron mixed with city rain present in your nose. "Shit, what the fuck. Are you okay? What the hell is going on?"

He nodded, "I've been worse," he mumbled. "I'll be fine, don't worry 'bout me." He leaned his head back against your bed again, taking a heavy breath in.

That was the worst thing he could have said to you. Don't worry, at this point, you were worried and confused about everything.

"Peter, you're my best friend, you know I love you, but if I do not get an answer as to what is going on in the next minute I am kicking your ass and calling May."

His eyes opened, looking over at you. The look of regret and hurt was evident, "I'm so sorry," he said, barely moving. His body ached but his heart was aching more as he watched the expressions on your face change the more you noticed and pieced things together, "I should've told you but I was scared you'd get hurt."

"Peter, what should you have told me?" Your voice was betraying you, breaking and quivering as you attempted to be firm.

"I- I'm Spider-Man, I've always been. That's- Something happened tonight and I had to go help-"

"So you've been lying to me for 5 years now?"

He went silent and all he could muster was a small nod.

"You've been hiding this from me for 5 years? Peter - I - we tell each other everything. If you've been lying about this, then what else are you fucking lying about?"

The hurt in your voice was evident. It was more like betrayal, and distrust, and it wrenched his heart and gut. The silence lingered as you started piecing more and more together.

Five years. For five whole years, through your senior year of high school and the entirety of your college career, you spent attached at the hip to Peter Benjamin Parker - and he had been lying to you about a pivotal part of his life.

In hindsight, finding out Peter had been Spider-Man all this time made a lot of things make sense. Five years’ worth of last-minute cancellations, questionable excuses, black eyes, and bruises.

There was your senior prom. Aunt May was so excited that Peter and you were going together, she had always joked and wished the two of you would end up as more than friends. "Just memories for your wedding one day", she would say.

Everything leading up to prom was great. Peter went dress shopping with you, he got a tie to match the color of your dress, Aunt May made sure the two of you had a matching boutonniere and corsage, he even took you to and from your appointments the day of prom.

However, an hour into prom itself he had to leave hurriedly, frantically coming up with an excuse of not feeling good when moments prior you had just finished taking pictures and laughing at the cheesy poses.

That one stung, but you never admitted it, at least not to him. Peter had insisted you stay behind, spend time with other friends and he'd see you the next day. You're not even sure if he knows you left 20 minutes after he did, heartbreaking and feeling stupid for hoping Aunt May could be right.

The summer between your senior year of high school and your freshman year of college was filled with last-minute cancellations.

Since you were kids, specifically since second grade every Friday night was movie night and a sleepover. Even as you grew into teenagers Aunt May and your parents worked out an arrangement they could both be comfortable with to let you two continue your little tradition. But that summer every single one was canceled or Peter would leave early.

For weeks you were convinced Peter no longer wanted to be friends with you, that somehow, some way you upset him and he hated you. Until a week before college started and he called you out of the blue for coffee and school shopping.

Suddenly, things seemed normal again. Aunt May's house was close enough that Peter would go home for the weekend, and you would usually just follow along for Friday and then head back to your dorm Saturday. You'd meet up to study a few times a week or go run errands together, you were even back to gaming together once a week.

So, you figured that Peter's sudden change in behavior could have been from his break up with Gwen. You knew he didn't take it easy when she ended things after finding out she was accepted into Oxford. You couldn't blame her really, but you weren't happy to see Peter's heart breaking. He talked about it some, but his eyes would always tell you more than he actually would.

Of course, Peter would bail occasionally throughout college, but a lot of it made sense. He forgot about a project due or was just plain tired from working part-time and doing school.

The part that never made sense though were the bruises and scratches. Peter always had an excuse; got hurt in the lab, fell skateboarding, hurt himself helping Aunt May. But at the end of the day, that's all they were; Excuses.

Peter reached out to you, the touch of his cold hand bringing you back from your racing thoughts. "I…I know I shouldn't have hid it, (Y/N), I'm sorry I did. There was so much going on, so many threats and I- I just didn't want you to get hurt. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if you got hurt."

Tears began to prick your eyes, instantly jumping away from his touch, the feeling of dread and distrust sinking deeper into you with the singular move. "And what if you got hurt? How do you expect me to live with myself if you died?" Your voice was still shaky, fear now starting to fill in the gaps between each emotion.

Your eyes wandered to the towel he had tied around himself, blood beginning to seep through. "Peter," you reached for his arm but he grabbed your hand, stopping you and making you look him in the eyes.

"I'm okay, I promise. It'll heal quickly, just needed to stop the blood… I'll buy you a new towel." His voice was soft, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I'm not worried about the stupid towel, Peter." You sighed, "I- How could you have hidden this from me for so long?" You asked again, this time much more upset than angry.

Peter let out a shaky breath, his body finally starting to come down from the adrenaline and the full weight of his actions set in. "(Y/N), I mean it when I say I wanted to tell you," his voice was sincere, still holding onto your hand that had reached for his cut, "But I was more worried about your safety and making sure you wouldn't prioritize worrying about me over the rest of your life. The only person alive that knows is Harry. I never told anyone else, Aunt May doesn't even know."

It still hurt that Peter never told you, but it was starting to make sense, "How does Aunt May not know?"

Peter shrugged, offering you a soft chuckle, "You know she only sees and hears what she wants to. I never told her, but I'm also shocked she hasn't figured it out."

Peter gave you a look that made you know he was truly sorry, lower lip pouted out some, eyes big and wide, almost looking like a kicked puppy. "I know I have a lot to explain to you, and I know I need to rebuild your trust in me, but I need you to understand that I am really sorry for hiding it for this long. I've wanted to tell you since it all started, but I was told that it could put everyone around me in danger if they knew so I didn't want anyone to find out."

As much as you hated it, you did understand it. Giving him a soft nod, you let go of his hand instead of moving to rake your hand through his hair to get it out of his face. "I understand, but I don't like it."

"You don't like anything that doesn't go your way," he teased with a soft laugh, quickly earning a glare from you that made him laugh more. "I'll also explain everything once I'm not still soaked and healing." He said, motioning to his arm.

You nodded, "Did you wanna go take a shower? I can make some food or order takeout."

Peter thought for a moment then nodded. He unwrapped his arm, looking at the little scratch that was left behind from the wound he had not even 20 minutes prior. "Yeah, yeah let me go shower… do yo-"

"I'll put your clothes and a clean towel by the sink for you once you're in the shower. I'll also take your suit and the towel you have and throw it in the wash, okay? You just go get cleaned up while I find us some food."

Peter nodded, giving you a quick hug and kiss on the forehead before disappearing from your room. It took you a moment, immediately sitting down on the bed, attempting to process everything.

Your best friend of 15 years is Spider-Man. Your favorite person is your favorite superhero. Your best friend has lied to you to be able to go save people. Your best friend could have died, and has probably almost died countless times.

To say it was a lot to take in was an understatement.

You could hear the shower start running in the room next to yours, the sound thankfully pulling you from your spiraling thoughts and panic. As you moved through the apartment, throwing a frozen pizza in the oven and collecting some spare clothes Peter had left behind at your place before, the emotions started to make sense.

Yes, it did hurt that Peter had hidden this, but his reasoning made sense. The hurt that you couldn't shake was how many times you could have lost him. He could have been dead on top of a skyscraper, no one able to discover his body with how high up he is, and you would've been none the wiser. Or if he died on the streets and eventually was unmasked you'd be left to mourn with the rest of the world instead of being able to process the loss of your other half in private. You'd be learning and losing so much so quickly. You'd be lost in a pool of emotions so chaotic it would make this moment seem calm.

Peter was back in your room about 20 minutes later, the pizza fresh out of the oven and sitting on the bed with you. You were looking at the TV, not really watching the forgotten movie you put on. As much as you tried to not let your thoughts continue to run wild, your brain didn't want to listen.

He moved the pizza to the closest surface and sat on your bed, immediately pulling you in for a hug when he saw the lost look on your face. Your mind felt like it was a broken record, spinning fast but on repeat.

"What's going through your head?"

There was no reason to reiterate the same thing you had told him earlier. You pulled off of him, sighing deeply before giving him a small smile, "A lot, but I'll be okay."

He nodded, "So… movie night? I definitely owe you one."

You nodded, looking up at the screen momentarily, your gaze being pulled to your phone as a new news alert popped up about Spider-Man. You didn't bother checking it, but you're brain did finally click the two puzzle pieces together fully that Peter is Spiderman.

You looked over at him with narrowed eyes and a slight pout, "You're fucking Spider-Man," your tone was accusatory which caught him off guard, a slow nod all he was able to offer before you continued, "You have let me tell you for years that I'm in love with Spider-Man. That I would marry this person I thought I'd never meet. That's so embarrassing!" You whined at the end.

Peter chuckled, a blush on his features and his hand going to mess with the back of his head. "Yeah… you finally realize that means you've been saying you're in love with me for like… 4ish years now?" He teased.

It was a joke. It was just banter which was typical for Peter. He was always teasing, playful, and borderline flirty with you. But that statement rang a little too true. You froze, movements and breath seemingly paused, and Peter quickly noticed that your heart rate quickened.

It wasn't the first time that happened around him. He's noticed countless times before how your skin would heat up and your heart rate would increase when he complimented you. He even noticed when he would do something, only sometimes accidentally, that would turn you on. Peter, not wanting to ruin your friendship or make you uncomfortable, never acted on it though.

"You okay, daisy?" It was a nickname he didn't use often, but one that he's called you forever. It held a special place for him, a reminder of some of his first memories of you - flower hair pins and daisy doodles all over your school papers. It was also a term that usually had you flustered and stumbling.

"You finally realize I've been in love with you longer than that?"

Now it was Peter's turn to freeze, taking a moment to make sure he heard you right. He watched as you squirmed some, re-situating yourself and pulling at your clothes, heart rate quickening and eyes avoiding his.

It made sense really, but he couldn't believe it. Peter has had a crush on you since your 5th-grade school dance where you wore a dress your parents let you pick out, so you were beaming with pride and excitement. He remembers you spending the night at Aunt May's after, staying up all night eating snacks and playing video games.

Every day since he's made himself believe there was no way you'd like him back. Peter believed you were far out of his league, and even if that wasn't true he was too scared of losing you to take the risk of pursuing something more.

"How long?" Maybe that wasn't the right response but he wanted to know, felt like he needed to know.

"Longer than I can remember," you responded, breath shaky, "I can't lose you, Peter… I - Spider-Man or not, I can't lose you. And you coming in tonight, wounded and dropping a massive secret like that on me - Peter, you really scared me. I love you and losing you would kill me."

"You're not gonna lose me," his voice was soft.

"Don't make any promises you can't keep," you could feel the tears starting to form.

Peter moved to you, his large hands coming to cup your face and make you look at him. "I'm not making a promise I can't keep. You're not gonna lose me. Not now, not because of being Spider-Man, not ever."

He waited for you to blind away your tears, using his hands to squish your cheeks in an attempt to cheer you up a little. Once he got a soft laugh out of you, he broke out into a smile. "I love you," he said firmly, "I'm in love with you. I have been since we were kids." He confessed to you. "So I mean it, I'm not going anywhere."

Peter watched your eyes get wide as you processed what he said, feeling your skin heat up under his hands, "Can I kiss you?" His voice was soft and airy.

A slight nod was all he needed before he pressed his lips to yours. It was intense and soft and sweet, everything and anything all at once. Butterflies erupted from low in your belly and vibrated your chest. His chapped lips moved in sync against your bite-swollen lips, sending waves of electricity and emotions down your spine and through every nerve.

He pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours as the both of you caught your breaths. His hands fell from your face, searching for your own hands. "I know I have a lot to explain, I have a lot of work to do to make you feel secure and know I'll be here, but I'll do whatever it takes, daisy, I promise."

She huffed out a small laugh, pulling away and nodding, "Thank you, Petey," you pressed another quick kiss to his lips before pulling away fully, giggling at the almost shocked look he had on his face, "Looks like we both have a lot to get used to." Your gaze softened some, "No more secrets?"

Peter laughed as well, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips, presently multiple kisses to them. "No more secrets

#tasm!peter imagine #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm peter x you #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter x reader #spiderman x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter one shot #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter #tasm!peter angst #my writing

650 notes · View notes

kingconia · 10 months

Note

Hello! Can I please request the scenario of S/O, WHO IS LIKE NEUVILLETTE FROM GENSHIN IMPACT (AKA. IT RAINS, WHEN THEY WANT TO CRY) for Deuce, Jamil, Idia and Silver?

DEUCE, JAMIL AND SILVER WITH S/O, WHO IS LIKE NEUVILLETTE FROM GENSHIN IMPACT

(AKA. IT RAINS, WHEN THEY WANT TO CRY)

A/N: I sincerely apologise, dove, but I couldn't write anything for Idia. But I hope others will be to your liking.

Deuce Spade. ❤️

— It is safe to say that Deuce was one of the first people in this school to become close to you. Your wisdom—Deuce was genuinely surprised how easily you made right conclusions, and supported him about his past—made him attracted to you from the first sight;

— Deuce is very attentive, so it doesn't take a lot from him to notice that you become more upset within days. It is the reason that he can't figure out;

— I am going to be honest: I don't think Deuce understands that these rains and your mood swings are connected, somehow;

— Deuce comes to confront you about your moods, bluffing shamelessly that he knows everything. That is when you blurt out the truth about being a water dragon, and those weather changes, too.

•

”Oh,” Deuce pats your shoulder awkwardly, still processing everything he had heard from you. ”You kept that to yourself for so long... It must be tough. Are you okay, Y/n?”

It hurts him to know that you spent months bottling up your emotions, and if not for his stupid idea, you would probably continue to do so. The strength of your spirit that Deuce always admired about you plays with you the cruel joke, it seems.

”Oh, darling, I am fine,” you try to reassure him. But there are dark clouds appearing outside, just behind your back, where window is opened. ”I am fine. Just, please, give me a minute.”

You let out a quiet sigh, pressing your foreheads together. Deuce puts a hand on the back of your head, stroking it gently, helping you to relax like that. The slow raindrops start falling on the ground, and he smiles at you reassuringly.

”Rest, Y/n. I am here.”

You nod, repeating his words slowly.

He is here.

You can rest.

Jamil Viper. 🧡

— Jamil is quiet happy with that rain becomes more often thing around the school, but he surely thinks it is strange. In his motherland, every single change in the weather—especially, such an abrupt one—is a sign from gods. So, he starts looking closer;

— He is aware that gods don't rule over this school—at least, he thinks so—but yet, he is sure these weather changes should mean something. He even talks with Kalim about this situation, just in case if he knows something;

— And at the meantime, you become gloomier and gloomier. Jamil wonders if it is the sign he searches for: that his beloved is in trouble that he is blind for? Or, maybe... His beloved is the deity that offers him signs?

— Jamil confronts you almost instantly. ”I know what you are, Edward.” ”Say it, Bella.” You see no reason to hide the truth from him, so you explain that in your reality you are not a god, but another important figure in the pantheon.

•

”But what message you tried to deliver by these rains?” Jamil wonders out aloud, much later, when your head is on his lap.

You close your eyes, humming when he strokes your hair gently.

”Pardon?”

”For us, the change in the weather by your kind means something particular. When you cast the rain, what do you want to say by that?”

Jamil can see you pondering for a while, before offering an answer.

”I can't cry. Not like you, humans, do,” your voice is barely audible, so Jamil leans closer not to miss anything. ”I only can call for rain, and it serves to be my tears. I apologise for that, too. It must be bothersome.”

All this time, when he happily greeted the rain, it was your tears?

”No, don't be sorry for that,” he reassures you quickly. ”Cry as much as you want. But... If you need to be heard, I am here. And if you need someone to keep silence with, I am here, too. I can keep an umbrella for you.”

The corners of your lips slightly turn up. And when Jamil is staring at the window, he sees nothing but a shimmering sun. He is more grateful for it than usual.

Silver Vanrouge.

— I think, thanks to the fact that Silver spends most of his time around the strangest creatures, he can sense them easily among others. So, he probably knows that you are one hell of the student, but just can't determine what are you;

— When weather starts worsening his first theory is that Malleus is sad. But his investigations shows he is wrong, it is clearly not about the housewarden. Then... Who?

— The only other person he can suspect is you. Silver also thinks it is a worthy theory, since you had been sombre for a while, distancing from others;

— Silver respects you, so he doesn't insist on telling him about your origins. He only comes to reassure you that you are safe with him—safe to share with everything, too—and if he can help somehow, he is at your service. Silver doesn't expect that always collect you will break down in front of him all of the sudden!

•

The storm outside the dormitory is the worst that Silver had ever witnessed. It is a raging one. He hears windows wheezing, and thunder rattling. But it is your roar, roar of the wounded animal, that makes him shiver.

”H-here you are,” Silver whispers, patting you on the back, cradling in his arms like a little kid. ”Here you are, Y/n. You are safe. Safe and sound.”

What you said to him earlier, about the feeling of being left out, not being a part of something, of the certain community... Silver knows it all a little too well. Even after all these years, even after all his father's help and love, sometimes, Silver feels out of this place.

”I-I am so sorry...” You hiccup, hands coming to squeeze the fabric of his shirt. ”I am being disrespectful, and—”

”No, no! Please, don't apologise. Cry as much as you want. I am going to stay, anyway.”

For a second, there is a silence: in the outside world, and in this room as well. And then, before everything resumes, you ask, voice so quiet, that Silver wonders if he imagined it:

”Are you willing to stay with me?”

”I am,” Silver tells you. ”I am staying. You are not alone anymore, alright?"

You don't say anything anymore, and so, Silver starts humming the song his father used to sang to him, when he was much younger; still a child, who would wake up from time to time from the horrifying sounds coming out of the forest.

You listen to it, and Silver knows, it is working. You are falling asleep in his embrace slowly, and the chaos outside slowly calms down alone with you. Eventually, Silver feels like drifting off, too.

The storm is gone. And he will be here, when you wake up.

You can have nice dreams, beautiful dragon.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #silver twst #silver x reader #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #jamil viper

379 notes · View notes

renthony · 2 days

Note

🏳️‍🌈

My beloved wife @natalieironside wrote a book titled The Last Girl Scout, which features a kickass cast of queer characters and stars a pair of trans lesbians who fight both zombies and nazis. Natalie's own promo post is here!

You can buy a copy via Amazon, and this is the official plot summary:

The past lies like a nightmare over the world. Two hundred years after the War when atomic fire rained from the skies and burned the world to cinders, human civilization has had time to rebuild within the burned-out husk of Old America. But the old terrors of the past still persist, and while some work to build a better world, others still dream of reclaiming the glory of the Old World. In southern Appalachia, political commissar Magnolia Blackadder is sent on a mission into the irradiated Exclusion Zone of Old DC, where an evil that humanity thought it had vanquished centuries ago is waking up and rebuilding its strength. Along the way, she meets a strange woman with terrible secrets and an unspeakable past, and as they forge a bond and brave the terrors of the wasteland together, she learns that some demons are not so easily exorcised, and that some stones are better left unturned. In this her debut novel, award-winning author Natalie Ironside delivers a new vision of the post-apocalypse, a tale of adventure, terror, love, and that most basic and most powerful of all human desires: Freedom.

Obviously I love it because my wife made it, but outside of that, this book is genuinely one of my favorites. I'm so glad she shared it with the world, because it makes me feel better when I start feeling overwhelmed about all the bad shit out there.

In The Last Girl Scout, there are still queer people meeting, building relationships both romantic and platonic, and supporting each other even when the world is on fire. People make fucked up bad decisions but receive support after they choose to do better and commit to healing the harm they've done. Parents support their trans kids. The power of gay love brings renewal and hope. I think we need more stories like that in the world.

Also, there's a gay vampire DILF.

Drop a 🏳️‍🌈 in my inbox and I'll respond with a queer media recommendation!

#original post #ren's media recs #the last girl scout

70 notes · View notes

ichijager13 · 9 months

Text

Back to You

Pairing: Eren Jäger x Reader

Audience: general.

CW: None.

Tags: Historical, WWI, German Eren, Older and long-haired Eren, Married couple, Established relationship.

Summary: Shortly before the end of WWI and the armistice, reader received a letter informing her of her husband's death. Months gone by and one day, she received another letter.

WC: 1,6k-ish

A/N: Hi, hi, been a while since I last wrote and posted something. I hope you enjoy this story.

Banner by @cafekitsune

Standing in the middle of the backyard of your house, ready to chop a couple chairs, you prayed those were going to be the last ones. Shifting the axe you sharpened a few days ago from one hand to another, you were about to start the unpleasant task when you spotted the mailman’s curved silhouette. You put down the tool before wrapping a shawl around you.

March was already here, but you could still feel the sting of Bavaria’s harsh and cold winter. Massaging your lethargic, sore, and calloused hands—those same hands Eren, your beloved, used to kiss and compliment—you made your way toward the middle-aged man.

“Guten tag, Frau Jäger. I’ve got mail for you.” He smiled kindly at you, handing you an envelope with multiple stamps of all shapes and colors. Afraid the rain that had been drizzling since the morning would ruin it, you thanked him and pocketed the letter.

He was about to leave when you heard Frau Braun talking. Both standing near the broken and rusted gate leading to the farmhouse, you silently watched the neighbor embrace her husband, Reiner, and her son, who had come back from the west front. Her voice was heavy with emotion as she bombarded them with all sorts of questions.

The mailman’s pale blue eyes traveled back and forth between them and your tired and frail figure. The past year was particularly hard, and the armistice the government signed made it even harder.

He gave you a tight-lip, empathic smile before touching the tip of his discolored hat and leaving.

Back in the backyard, you picked up the axe and were about to resume work. You could still hear the Braun’s muffled voices as they made their way home. Feeling overwhelmed, you let the axe fall and tightly hugged yourself, hoping it would stop your body from shaking. Frau Braun was a considerate and caring woman. She had always been here for you during the four years the war lasted, especially after what happened. You were sincerely happy for her. She deserved to be happy after losing two kids to tuberculosis. You were genuinely happy for all those who managed to escape the shadows death cast over Europe during the past four years, but...

The abundant tears traveling down your face burned against your cheeks and blue-colored quivering lips. Falling to your knees, you pressed your trembling hands to your ears, hoping to be shielded from their happiness. Happiness that you couldn’t share since, unlike your neighbor and many other families around, you had no one to wait for. Unlike Reiner and their son, your husband, Eren, wasn’t coming back home.

You inhaled deeply, trying to calm down, but all you could think of was that doomed day. That doomed letter the same mailman delivered to you a year ago, announcing Eren’s death in the east front.

Letter…

You suddenly remembered the one you received minutes ago. You quickly tore the envelope and waited until your vision was clear enough. With shaking hands, you scanned the piece of paper you were holding in your hand.

“Dearest wife,

I apologize for not being able to write to you and respond to your letters. I apologize for this long absence and the tormenting silence I imposed on you, my love.

"This... this can’t be,” you mumbled, checking the envelope once again as you took a seat.

I spent the past year in a Russian camp, and unfortunately, we weren’t’ authorized to write to our families and beloveds.

It took the German and Austro-Hungarian empires a while to convince the Russian government to release their POWs.

You tried to contain your sobs and conjure yourself to calm down and breathe, but couldn’t. How could you get a hold of yourself when the words, ‘ But it’s all over now. I’m coming back home to you, my love.’ danced in front of your tear-filled eyes. “He’s not dead,” you repeated, like a broken record, as if you were trying to convince someone that your husband is still alive. “He’s alive. Eren is live.”

I’m currently sitting on the train on my way to you, my love, while writing this letter. I’m going to post it at the next stop in hopes it will reach you before my arrival.

I have tried in previous drafts to describe how much I long for you. How I miss the tone of your soothing voice and the echo of your contagious laugh. Not a single day passed by without me craving your soft touch and dreaming of taking you in my arms. Every night, I close my eyes and go back to that day—the day you said yes. You looked dazzling in that cream-colored dress your cousin lent you. There are not enough words to describe how lonely the past year felt without your letter. I spent most of my nights rereading the ones I had received before until I learned them by heart. Reading your letters, I could picture you sitting near the fireplace or under that big spruce tree in the backyard of our house.

You stared at the spots of faded ink your teardrops created as you read the letter over and over.

I owe my survival to your kind words.

That line made you burst into tears as you hugged the letter.

I’m trying not to think about the humiliation the German army and people are enduring after our defeat. I’m trying not to think of all those not coming back home—those who lost a leg, an arm, or an eye. I’m trying not to think about homeless and hungry people. I’m blocking all of these thoughts and focusing only on one thing. the feeling of my lovely wife’s body pressed against mine and the taste of your lips against mine. It would be selfish to celebrate coming back home when I have nothing to offer you, when people are still dying and suffering from the sequels of war and disease.

You had no idea what you were doing here. But something inside told you you must run to the train station, and you chose not to question or second guess your instinct. Out of breath, you stood in the middle of the crowded station’s platform, your eyes wandering and scanning hollowed faces and heavy eyes surrounded by dark circles. Lost, and panting, you studied those stepping out of the train, searching for a particular face. One that you fell in love with seven years ago.

Today and during this journey back home, the only thing I’m thinking about is you and all the stories I want to share with you. The only thing I have in mind is your delicate and beautiful hands running along my hair as your soft voice lulls me to sleep.

You elbowed and passed by people reunited with their sons, brothers, fathers, partners, and lovers. You gradually made your way into a sea of unknown faces, hoping this wasn’t a dream.

I hope that even after all these years apart, you will still be able to recognize me. I’m sincerely praying to God, or whoever was willing to listen, that when you look into my eyes, you’ll still be able to see and recognize the man who fell in love with you. I hope that war hasn’t stolen the light behind your eyes. And I hope that the distance between us and the nights I spent away didn’t tear us apart.

Feeling disoriented and lost, you pressed both palms against your beating heart and prayed.

I hope the spark that ignited our love the first time our gazes locked near that bookstore downtown is still alive.

And there he was, standing on the other side of the railing, looking at you. He looked different, but the instant your eyes met, you knew it was him. the only man you loved, the man you vowed to remain by his side until death tore you apart, the man you spent months praying for.

My love, I want you to know that the time I spent away from home made that fire burn brighter and the love I have for you grow deeper.

He jumped and came running to you.

I believe in our love and that we are meant to be, and I’m positive that together we will be able to overcome all the obstacles and hardships. With you by my side, my love, I can do everything.

Without second thought, you threw yourself into his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His arms looped around you, pressing your small body against his. A minute passed by before you pulled away, inspecting his face. He had lost a lot of weight and his emerald eyes had lost their gleam. You ran your hands through his soft chestnut hair before you commented, laughing, “A shoelace? Really?”

“Is that all you have to say to your husband?” He taunted you before your lips met. The kiss was soft but passionate, loving but impatient. Just like you, every cell of his body was aching for you, missing you. Your lips were still sealed; you both lost track of time and forgot the world ever existed.

“I missed you,” you breathed, resting your forehead against his as your tears ran down your cheek.

“It’s over now, my love. I’m here.” He pecked your temple before chasing away your tears. “Let’s go back home.”

198 notes · View notes

wordy-little-witch · 2 months

Text

Okay CoraBug hours where we look at canon, go HAH No, and carry on bc I Do Not See It

Buggy and Cora being absolutely the schmooziest, goofiest couple ever.

Cora and Buggy experimenting with makeup looks together.

They each have an Egg Each, but they have each other's eggs, or they both make two each so one can have the second egg on hand for long distance stints.

Long denden calls and writing letters to each other.

Sengoku having several attacks of just as many varieties because his son is dating a pirate and it's THAT pirate as well and he's So Fucking Angry bc Buggy isn't even all that bad, he HATES it-

Uncle Garp. The shenanigans there. Need I say more?

Shanks telling Buggy about Luffy and it goes "my brother adopted the grandson of my boyfriend's honorary uncle" and you can see the smoke coming from his ears.

Cora and Buggy were childhood sweethearts, and Shanks ABSOLUTELY gave Cora a shovel talk. Roger also gave Cora a shovel talk. Rayleigh played psychological warfare as a test (Cora passed).

They do shows together and their favorites are acrobatics and aerials.

Buggy has forbade Cora from fire stunts, so Cora simply watches Buggy do them and drools respectfully. (In his defense, Buggy is VERY skilled with batons and dragon staffs.)

Devil Fruits have something they need to Feed or things that Feed the fruits. For some, it's foods, some it can be abated with tobacco. Cora uses his cigarettes and Buggy runs on sugar.

Cora is actually a very clean person and prefers unscented soaps, he just has a skill for always looking freshly mugged in an alleyway. Buggy meanwhile is a neat freak who changes up his soaps frequently, but always within a certain brand/maker rotation bc he has sensitive skin.

Drawbacks Of Devil Fruits My Beloved - they're both more lethargic in highly humid weather, or in the rain. Cora's sleepier overall when stuff gets to that point, but Buggy runs a higher risk of getting sick as a result.

Buggy sometimes has Bad Brain Days, be it an episode or he's overstimulated. Regardless, when he needs Space, he'll shimmy under Cora's feathered coat and Cora will cast a bubble for them with just enough muted input to calm Buggy down but not trigger his intrusive thoughts.

Likewise, when Cora is in Cover And Perform Mode, Buggy will gently lead him away and pull the other down to his chest, ear over his heart, and will just... talk. Random, unimportant things like "Oh I heard dinner will be this tonight" or "I've been thinking of getting x, y, z tools for the ring". Just stuff to ground him, she he isn't alone, that things are okay and fine and safe.

They have prank wars. Ritchie always wins. Nobody knows how.

Cora will straight up scruff Buggy like a cat when he gets angry and stabby.

Buggy will climb Cora like a tree when he feels playful.

<><><><> Bonus Incorrect Quotes <><><><>

Buggy: They call it committing murder because it's a commitment. It's stronger than marriage.

Cora:

Buggy:

Cora: babe, no-

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Cora: I could kill you if I wanted.

Buggy: Yeah? So could any other human being. So could a dog. So could a dedicated duck. You aren't special

Cora:

Buggy:

Cora: I love you-

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration*

Cora: Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table?

Buggy: I—

Buggy: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.

Cabaji, who just wanted to eat his lunch in peace:

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: BE A BETTER PERSON!

Cora: WHY?!

Buggy: BECAUSE SOMEONE NEEDS TO HAVE MORALS IN THIS RELATIONSHIP, AND IT SURE AS FUCK AIN'T GONNA BE ME, SWEETHEART!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Cora: *sighs*

Buggy: You bored?

Cora: Yeah.

Buggy: Wanna start drama for no reason?

Cora: I thought you’d never ask.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Cora: I truly go into housewife mode when I'm someone's soulmate- like, I'll make you pancakes and bacon every morning.

Buggy: This is a lie.

Buggy: I'm literally dating them. This is a lie.

Buggy: THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO COOK A PANCAKE, WHAT IS THIS.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: What’s your favorite color?

Cora: Stop asking stupid questions. Ask me something logical and mature.

Buggy: How many moles of sodium bicarbonate are needed to neutralize 0.8ml of sulfuric acid at STP?

Cora: My favorite color is pink.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Context: Roger and Garp having a play date, Shanks and Mihawk are sitting to the side while Buggy is doing smth mundane across the beach when Cora descends on the swordmen

Cora: Wait, what's going on? Are we all talking about how hot Buggy is? Because Buggy is a straight up sexual fox riding a red-hot nuclear bombshell right toward the yowza plaza in the heart of Babe City, Assachusetts, U S A. The last A just stands for more ass.

Mihawk:

Shanks:

Cora:

Mihawk: wh-

Shanks: YEAH!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: I'm very scary.

Cora: You're about as scary as a wet kitten.

Buggy: Wet kittens are cute, at least I've got that going for me.

Cora: And small.

Buggy:

Buggy: ...Yeah, yeah. I guess.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: Live fast, die young, leave behind a pretty corpse! That’s what I always say!

Cora: You should say something else.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Cora: What’s your body count?

Buggy: Do you mean sex or murder?

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Cora, carrying a box: What would you say if- if I, hypothetically, came home with several kids one day?

Buggy: …

Buggy: What’s in the box?

Cora: What woul-

Buggy: Cora, what’s in the box?

Cora: I think you know.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: Hey, wanna take a shower with me?

Cora: I have a gun in that nightstand beside the bed. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to take it out and shot me because I’ve obviously gone crazy.

#corabug #buggy the clown #corazon rosinante #donquixote rosinante #clown on clown kissing #incorrect quotes

68 notes · View notes

jeonjcngkook · 2 years

Note

Can you do a drabble wherein the oc and jk make a bet where they try not to kiss each other!? Just imagine 🥺🥺🥺🥺

say less 🥺

to be loved by you | jjk

⤑ pairing: jungkook x reader

⤑ genre(s)&au(s): sfw nc17+, fluff, romance, established relationship, domestic happiness, slice of life

⤑ word count: 2k+

⤑ warnings: suggestive, making out

⤑ summary: you come across the 'try not to kiss' challenge on tiktok and you want to test your boyfie to see just how much he can resist.

⤑ note1: i love them sghdgfjshgfdh. thank you for this ask! im so thankful i have been able to write this <333 i hope it reaches your expectations my love!

⤑ note2: unedited and not betaed lmao but my beloved love @caelesjjk did read over it, thank you angel — this is for u!

masterlist

Early Saturday afternoons. Your favourite time of the week.

The time of week where you can let yourself be free of any commitments, the working week fully behind you. A day made up of zero plans.

Today couldn't be more idilic as the heavens sky opens wide, casting pillowy grey clouds over the city skyline and gentle pitter patters of rain drops against the glazing of your window. It eases your mind, furthering you into your state of bliss.

Your phone rests in your hand as you lazily lounge on the sofa, legs draped over your boyfriends lap as he continue to skim through tiktok, watching funny reddit threads and hairtoks while Jungkook rests his forearms across your legs, console controller in hand as he concentrates on the TV in front of you both, mindlessly walking through the map of the newest game he’s purchased.

He’s a natural beauty. With his hair parted down the middle and yet most of it is swept to the left, covering his eyebrow piercing that glitters when the sun decides to crack through the clouds and through the spaces in the blinds hung on the window. His eyes narrow as he becomes more absorbed into the fantasy world in front of him. A slope to his little button-like nose which ends just above the curve of his cupid's bow — heart shaped and pretty. You watch as your boyfriend’s tongue peeks out absentmindedly every so often, licking at the pretty little silver ring that rests beautifully on his lower lip. And his lips, oh goodness, his lips. Pink. Full. So so pretty.

What’s when the idea hits you.

Retracting your legs from Jungkook’s lap, you remove yourself from the comfort of your sofa and feign fixing something on the coffee beside you. Secretly, you place your phone horizontally down onto its side beside your favourite vase, making sure that the lens of your camera is facing Jungkook for what you’re away to do.

You turn back towards Jungkook and he moves his arms again, expecting you to place yourself back in your previous position sprawled across him but instead you take this opportunity to squirm into his lap, thighs on either side of his tiny waist as you nuzzle yourself into his neck, catching the fabric of his hoodie as you dip down. Inhaling, you catch the scent of jasmine and lily from the washing detergent you both use. You crack a smile as you nuzzle further into the smell, closing your eyes to bask and clawing your nails like a kitten finding comfort in your boyfriend.

Jungkook lets out a low laugh at your new position but entertains it nonetheless, completely oblivious as to what’s to come. He adjusts himself in the centre of the sofa with you still in his lap and resumes his game as he wraps his arm around your body; picking up the controller once more and continuing on with his game.

Five minutes pass and you decide that now is the time. You lift your head out of the crook of Jungkook’s neck and sit straight, now blocking his view of the TV. The buttons on the controller come to a full stop as your eyes follow the silence, watching him press on the pause button before placing the control down next to his knee on the couch.

“What’s gotten into you, darling?” Jungkook softly asks, his hands skimming past your cotton shirt and placing them directly onto your waist. You feel heat follow his touch as his thumbs rub back and forth on your skin. It’s gentle and loving.. just like Jungkook.

“Let’s play a game,” you say, a smile making its way to your face.

Jungkook’s eyes trail down your face and stare as your smile gets wider, a little cheekier too as you fully settle your body in his lap, the cushions of the sofa below your knees makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. Jungkook’s hands find your hair and you let him tangle his fingers through the strands delicately playing with the ends of them before tucking it behind your shoulder, exposing the skin of your neck. “And what game requires you to sit in my lap like this?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

Your own hand is steadily pressed against his abdomen as you begin to trace your right index finger down his toned stomach, the ridges of muscle below tightening under your touch as your mouth waters at the sight.

Moving forward, you tilt your head to the side slowly and gently, watching as Jungkook replicates the movement in the opposite direction. You make sure to tease him a little more as your left hand raises your boyfriends chin to the side briefly, allowing you to press your lips to his neck, peppering open mouthed kisses along his throat and up towards his jaw, before finding a little spot to delicately suck rose petals into his skin.

The grip on your waist kneads at your flesh as the pleasure creates the hair on his arms to stand. You hear a little moan slip past his lips and you know that you have him exactly where you need him to be. Pulling away from his neck, you watch as a little love bite blossoms on his skin and you grin devilishly at your mark.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you entwine your own fingers together behind his neck and lean back towards his lips. Your eyes lock with his own dark irises, your mouth only a hair's breadth away from each other. “The game where you try and not kiss me.” You whisper, your lips brushing over his own as you sound the words out.

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to grin. It’s known to you just how competitive he can be — but he’s never competed for intimacy with you before.

He straightens his posture below you and pulls you closer to him. His palm reaches for your cheek, palm under your jaw and fingertips resting on your neck, pulling your head towards him, lips in front of lips, you can almost taste the mint on his tongue. His thumb strokes your cheek and your eyes flutter shut at the contact. “But you can’t resist me, darling,” he whispers, voice airy and light, teasing too and you can't help but whimper.

You take a deep breath, willing yourself to snap out of your daydream and look back into his eyes. Your tongue slips past the seam of your lips and you teasingly glide it along your lower lip before pulling the skin in between your teeth, biting down on it.

Jungkook giggles. It’s velvety and comforting. He moves his head an inch closer, your noses now grazing each other as he rubs up and down causing a giggle of your own to fill the space around you both.

At his words, you allow yourself to grind into his lap teasing him and you feel his hand around your waist tighten and watch as his breath stutters on the exhale and you can’t help but feel the rush of pride as you watch him weaken for you.

You don’t feign much better though. A warmth blossoms in your tummy and courses through your veins at your own movement and your automatic response is to kiss his pretty pink pouty lips. But with much vigour, you steer away from your thoughts and continue to stare deeply into his eyes. It’s been what? Three Minutes now? You think.

With a wandering eye, you side eye your phone which is still hidden behind the vase on the side table, smirk and stare back at him. “How’s your game going?” You ask, watching Jungkook’s own eyes flicker down to yours with the movement of your words, the sound light and airy with troubled confidence as you try to keep the proximity between you both exactly where you are.

“It’s…it’s going well. I’ve finally m-made it into the elite ranking,” he stutters his words at the movement of your hips in his lap.

Jungkook’s eyes darken immediately and his pupils blow out as the temptation begins to swallow at him. He swallows hard, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips and your instant reaction is to cradle his cheek in your palm. His head nuzzles into the warmth of your hand and you can’t help but trace your thumb over the wet skin of his lips, back and forth.

“I’m finding it incredibly difficult,” he starts, “having you this close to me, in this position, and not being allowed to kiss you.” His breathing is heavy and his hands are busy running up and down your sides, kneading, pulling, anything.

Your eyes flutter shut at the actions of his hands and your head falls forward, closer towards his awaiting mouth and he thinks he has you as his own lashes kisses the apples of his cheeks in preparation for your kiss. But your free hand juts out at the last minute against his chest to steady yourself.

“You know koo, you could just kiss me,” you whisper, your lips brushing across his own as you talk. “However I am so happy you ranked up,” you purr, rolling your hips harder on top of him, you feel your boyfriend’s movements match yours from below.

Jungkook’s resolve starts to break as his gaze settles on your lips, desiring a kiss that you’re toying from him. His hands slide down your ass and he quicks it a hard squeeze, his forehead now completely against yours. He rubs his own nose against yours once more and a growl deep from his chest erupts as he maintains the last ounce of resistance in his body.

But Jungkook loves, adores, when you’re needy and whiny for him. It plays into his masculinity that his girl is there begging for him to make her feel good and that is just what you do.

Both of your hands slide to the back of his neck and lace within each other, resting your warm palms at the back of his head. “Koo, please, just kiss m-,” you mewl and pull at the long strands of his hair at the nape of his neck.

The desire that has been palpable between the both of you finally cracks and Jungkook’s lips surge forward and finally collides with your own, cutting off the end of your sentence.

The kiss starts off slow and gentle, pecks upon pecks on your lips but quickly everything devolves from there, moving into something deeper, with more passion, heat, filthy and wet. Jungkook pulls your lower lip into his mouth, nipping hard and exploring your mouth with his tongue as he pushes past your lips and tangles his wet muscle with yours.

It’s dizzying and all consuming as you get so lost in it that you forget that next to you there is a phone recording this for your tiktok account and yet you can’t find it in yourself to care. You press back into it with your eagerness, the warmth that was once in your stomach now a fully blossomed fire as you begin to fight for faux dominance against him, and Jungkook fights back just as much with a smile into the kiss and a rock of his hips pulling a whine out from you.

All too soon, he pulls away from you leaving you both with heaving chests, gasping for air as you both stare at each other's kiss bitten, swollen lips — wanting nothing more than to have him again and again and again. He smirks at you frivolously and his hand comes up to hold your own cheek in his palm.

“Don’t know what you’re smirking for, you just lost,” you grin at him.

Jungkook is quick to pull you back towards him with a laugh. “Worth it,” he mouthes as he kisses you intensely one more time.

⤑ note3: don't be a silent reader & leave some feedback in my asks, reblog with a nice comment or even a lil reply saying if you enjoyed — big or small, they go a long way! supporting writers is always important <33

2K notes · View notes

gravehags · 9 months

Text

waiting for you only

Pairing: Cumulus x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: women being gay, strap ons, titty sucking, ghoul tenderness as always, cumulus being a soft dom, squirting

Words: 3,020

Summary: You hadn't been with a ghoulette yet. Cumulus is intent on setting a standard.

a/n: part 4 in the ghoul bicycle series, this might be my horniest one yet. not because i myself an extremely into cumulus in a very gay way or anything. not like i'm thinking about her all the time. not like i'd enjoy doing filthy and romantic things with her. definitely not that.

~~~

True to their word, after the night in the library with Dew the rest of the ghouls started coming around again.

Oh, did they start coming around. They were all over you - doting on you with little trinkets, or snacks, or words of praise. Swiss and Dewdrop both acted annoyingly smug every time you were all together, casting each other knowing glances and leering at you. The group began to invade your spaces, including the common room on your floor, effectively edging out your fellow siblings who had wanted to spend time in the room but didn’t want to deal with territorial ghouls. They respected the boundaries of your quarters - for now - but any public space in the abbey was free real estate to them, so long as you were in it.

Currently you are occupying one of the many kitchens, puttering around in the industrial size fridge for something good to eat. Swiss is sitting on the counter next to towering Mountain, who is nursing a cup of chamomile in his hands. Dew and Rain are arguing about something on the opposite side of the room, both of them animated. Sweet Aether is dutifully washing plates at the sink, smiling to himself about something. The two new ghouls - Phantom and Aurora, you think? - are nowhere to be found. Strange, but not surprising as they’re still finding their place in the group. The ghoulettes are gathered around a table in the corner, quietly chatting amongst themselves. You have your hand on a bag of shredded cheese - your last bleak attempt at finding something to snack on - when you feel a tell-tale tickling on the back of your neck that lets you know you’re being watched. Leaning back a little, you glance over your shoulder and your heart skips a beat. While Cirrus and Sunshine are deep in discussion on their side of the table, Cumulus is otherwise occupied.

With you.

Her eyes are piercing and when you turn to face her she is unsubtle about the way her gaze sweeps over you, lingering. Your cheeks flush and she continues to boldly and silently observe you, her finger tracing shapes on the table in front of her. When you meet her eyes, her lips curl into an odd half-smile, exposing the sharpness of her canines. You shiver and she gives you an emphatic wink that makes your knees buckle a little.

And then she goes back to their conversation as if nothing happened.

You’re so very warm as you make your hushed excuses and depart the kitchen, leaving behind a pack of confused ghouls. During your hasty exit, you don’t notice Cumulus’ eyes following you out.

–

A week passes after that incident and to your dismay, nothing has progressed. Cumulus is perfectly pleasant to you as if she never eye-fucked you in the kitchen at all. You are about to write it off as a figment of your overactive imagination when you open the door to your quarters and see a little note on the floor. It’s rectangular and pink, and when you pick it up you’re hit with the intoxicating smell of vanilla and amber.

Cumulus.

You turn the note over and are met with a short note in loopy cursive.

Come to me tonight, beloved. First door on the left.

Yours,

You exhale shakily before dropping your bag unceremoniously onto the floor. So you weren’t imagining things, thank Satanas. Rushing to the bathroom, you regard your reflection. Your hair is a mess after a long day, makeup smudged, eyes tired. Shit. Hastily, you wash your face and remove your crusty makeup before tending to your locks. With a deep breath you look at yourself in the mirror. Would she like the way you look? Should you put makeup back on? Should you do something with your hair? After chewing on your bottom lip for a moment you smack your fists against the edge of the sink.

“Fuck it,” you say definitively before shutting off the bathroom light and walking out.

Adjusting your habit, you clear your throat and take a deep breath. She didn’t say what time she wanted you there exactly but…you look at the clock next to your bed. 7:30. Hmm. Would you seem too eager? Well…you are eager but Cumulus doesn’t need to know how much. Throwing yourself down into a chair you bring your hand to your chin. Jiggling your foot you waited. And waited. You look over at the clock.

7:32

Letting out a noise of annoyance you fling yourself back out of the chair and head towards the door.

So what if you’re eager.

The walk to the ghoul den is quiet, and you see no one on your journey. When you reach Cumulus’ door you take a deep, shuddering breath before knocking.

“Come in,” her sweet voice says, muffled by the wood. So you do.

What you see when you enter makes your jaw drop.

Cumulus is there alright, nude and lounging on the soft white duvet on her bed. She’s reclined to face you, giving you a view of her full breasts and the divine curves of her body as her tail waves gently behind her. You’re staring but you can’t bring yourself to do anything but - you’ve never seen anything this beautiful in your whole damn life. Smiling, she curls a finger towards you to beckon and you stumble slightly in your haste to oblige her. You stand next to the bed, looking by all accounts like a fucking gaping idiot, and she props herself up.

“Hi,” you finally squeak out, to which she lets out a throaty laugh.

“Hey you,” she purrs, “join me?”

You slip your shoes off and delicately place yourself on the bed next to her, eyes fixed on the keyboard against the opposite wall. It somehow seems better than openly staring at her. When she places her hand on your arm to urge you to lay down, you practically jump out of your skin.

“So nervous,” Cumulus hums as you recline next to her, “am I making you nervous, sweetheart?”

You laugh. Nervously.

“Not you, I just…uh. You’re literally the prettiest thing I have ever seen.” The confession blurts out of you and you feel stupid, but you see her cheeks turn a pleasant pink as she strokes your arm.

“Funny,” she says, tracing patterns into your bicep, “I thought the same thing when I saw you.”

You get that tell-tale swooping sensation in your belly you’ve come to associate with delicious anticipation. When she reaches up to run her claws through your hair, you sigh and she nuzzles into your side, lips to your ear.

“Wanted you forever,” she murmurs, sliding her hand across your belly, “we all have but. There was always something about you.”

You turn your head to face her.

“Yeah?” you whisper, lips painfully close to hers. “I’ve never um. Never been wanted before. This is all kinda new to me.”

She hums thoughtfully as she begins to unbutton your habit with one hand. When she exposes your chest you sigh as she trails her fingers along the skin there.

“Their loss,” she says simply, sitting up. “Let’s get this out of the way, shall we?”

You’re maneuvering your arms and ass out of your habit as best you can when she throws her leg over you and straddles your hips. You’ve got the top half off and the rest sits bunched at your waist. Gesturing for you to sit up, you acquiesce, so that she can reach behind you with one hand and deftly unhook your bra. The offending garment gets tossed behind her onto the floor and suddenly you’re exposed to her gaze. When she begins to make little rotations with her hips against your core you gasp. She slides a hand along your cheek to cup it and you lean into her touch.

“Beautiful girl,” she murmurs, stroking a claw along your jawline before taking your chin in between pinched fingers. Something in her eyes shifts, darkens, and she leans in to brush her lips against yours.

“You’re mine now,” she breathes before running her tongue along your lower lip and plunging it into your open mouth. Her kisses are lush, generous, but not without a hint of possessiveness that makes your cunt clench. You’ve got your fingers buried in her blonde curls, cradling her head as she moves against you, bare breasts pressed to yours. You gasp into her mouth at the sensation of your nipples brushing against hers and she giggles before pulling back to nip at your jaw. Her lips trail wetly along your clavicle as she makes pleased little noises in the back of her throat that soaks your underwear. When her breath ghosts along your hardened nipple you arch your back and fist her hair.

“So needy,” she murmurs, lips barely brushing the peak which in turn makes you moan. When she latches her lips onto it and sucks, your hips buck against her. She lavishes you with attention, little nips and licks, all while toying with your other nipple in her clawed hand. You whine as she pulls away, making her grin toothily before she turns her attention to the other bud.

“So good, Cumulus,” you breathe, scratching at her scalp. “Fuck that feels so good.”

She makes a noise of affirmation while she sucks and laves at you, claws scratching down your sides. You slide the hand in her hair to the base of her horns and she nips you, causing you to cry out. When she looks up at you, her pupils are blown.

“Do it again,” she says hoarsely, the first show of weakness she has made so far.

Gently you rub your thumb along the base of her horn, watching as her tail violently flicks behind her. Taking advantage of her vulnerability, you flip her over onto the duvet with a grin which she mirrors.

“Somebody’s getting brave,” she coos up at you, the sing-songy nature of her voice sputtering out as you lean forward and lick an experimental stripe up her right horn. Her hands fly to your waist and claws bite into your skin as you do the same to the left horn. When you move to try it again she sharply brings a hand down on your ass, making you jolt forward and cry out. She smiles with all of her teeth and when you bring your lips down to hers she runs a soothing palm over the spot she had struck. Echoing her actions earlier, you kiss along her neck and down her sternum, all the way to her generous breasts. She purrs when you massage them in your hands, growls even, as you lick and suck at them. You know you look desperate as you put your full attention into the act and she yanks you back by the hair to tell you so. Gently, she urges you off of her much to your dismay, only to sigh with pleasure as she removes the remainder of your habit and your underwear. Now fully nude, your back against the duvet, you regard her as she stands up and moves to fetch something in a nearby drawer. What she pulls out has you gasping.

Dangling from her right hand are sturdy leather straps and nestled in the middle, the biggest dildo you had ever seen.

Granted, you hadn’t seen many but Satanas it’s huge. Bigger than Swiss, by far, and he was nothing to sneeze at. Your mouth is agape as she steps into the harness, securing it on the swell of her hips. She stands at the foot of the bed, dildo jutting proudly from her, and once again crooks her finger to beckon you. You move as if you’re hypnotized, crawling across the duvet til you’re eye level with it.

“You like my cock?” she asks sweetly, running a hand over the length of it.

“Y-yes,” you manage to stutter, sitting on your knees.

“Show me how much,” Cumulus commands, gripping the base.

You hesitate slightly before inching forward, softly pressing your lips to the tip. She’s looking down on you intently, lips curling in a grin.

“Go on, baby,” she murmurs, “put that pretty mouth on me.”

When you slide your lips over the head, you moan around it, the vibrations making her twitch. Slowly, you begin to work your mouth down the length of it, lips burning from the stretch. You’re about to gag when you pull back to the head. You chance a glance upwards and she’s looking down on you with such vicious adoration you repeat the motion. Again and again you move your lips and mouth over the cock until you’re drooling, sore, and your cunt is dripping. Finally she buries a hand in your hair and pulls you off. You’re red-faced and panting, knees aching and she’s smiling at you as if you had just recited the sweetest poetry to her.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” she says simply, urging you backwards onto the covers. “I’m going to fuck you until you see stars. Until you can’t even remember your name. Until the only thing you can remember is how fucking good my cock feels inside of you.”

All you can do is nod dumbly as you eagerly spread your legs to make room for her. You can feel the cock, weighty against your belly and slick with your spit, as she leans in and kisses you languidly. Leaning back on her knees she grabs the base once more and uses it to tease the tip against your clit. For a moment she’s content to watch you writhe against the white fabric, hair splayed and lips swollen.

“Cumulus, please,” you moan brokenly, causing her hips to jerk forward in a particularly brutal slide.

When she finally guides the cock inside of you your eyes roll back into your head. She only has the tip in and you’re already desperate but fuck it feels so good. Slowly, she slides the rest in, giving you time to adjust to the size. It stretches you far more than you have been stretched before but the sensation makes your clit throb. Once she bottoms out your cunt spasms and you moan her name. When she pulls the cock out entirely, you whine desperately, only to have her grab your ankles and shift them onto her shoulders.

“Good girl,” she preens, once again teasing the cockhead at your entrance. “Stay just like this for me.”

You nod, pathetically eager, as she slides forward again. When she bottoms out this time, she hits a spot inside of you you’ve never felt before. It makes your jaw fall slack and your chest heave, and with a knowing look in her eye she does it again. You’re moaning loud enough to wake the dead - surely loud enough to wake any other nearby ghouls - but you can’t help yourself. Her claws are wrapped around your calves as she pumps steadily in and out of you, panting with the effort.

“Cumulus,” you cry, “so good, so, so good. Don’t stop.”

She slides a hand up to your ankle and leans to the side to place a sweet kiss there.

“I know, baby,” she coos, caressing your legs even as she starts to pound into you at a more aggressive pace.

You’re arching and writhing on the covers, body jerking and legs clenching as she continues to fuck you. Watching you makes her make sweet sounds of her own, clearly enjoying your display. Over and over she hits that exquisite spot inside of you and your hands fly to the duvet to grip it in your fists. She was right - you can’t remember anything - the only thing on your mind is her name again and again. Wildly, your cunt begins to spasm around her cock and she smiles down at you.

“So close, huh? Gonna make that pretty little cunt cum?”

You nod frantically as she picks up the pace of her thrusts, fucking into you ruthlessly.

“Cumulus,” you gasp, knuckles white. “I’m gonna…Cumulus, please,”

What washes over you is unlike any orgasm you’ve felt before - self-induced or otherwise. You feel as if your soul is hovering ten feet above your body and the corners of your vision begin to darken. When your spine tightens and you’re gasping, gasping for air you let out a drawn-out exaltant scream. There’s a ringing in your ears and you’ve lost all feeling in your limbs but from the din comes Cumulus’ voice, praising you. When you slowly, finally come back into your body you realize that you’re laying in a puddle of something wet. Cumulus is grinning like the sun, gently setting your legs down and easing the cock out of you.

“Made a mess, didn’t you?” she giggles, unfastening the harness. “Bet that’s never happened to you before.”

You silently shake your head side to side, chest red and heaving still. When she disposes of the strap, she curls up against you, arm draped over your belly. You’re finally coming back to a more conscious state when you hear her purring contentedly in your ear.

“Wow,” you finally breathe. “Unholy shit.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs, kissing your shoulder. “Told you you were beautiful.”

Body sore, you turn onto your side to face her and raise a hand to brush the curls out of her face. Capturing your hand in hers, she brings it up to her lips and gently kisses your knuckles. Your heart swells and thumps in your chest even as you register the fact that the covers are, in fact, completely fucking soaked.

“We should change these,” you laugh.

“No,” Cumulus says simply.

“But they’re wet. With my…stuff.”

“Exactly. We’re not changing them.”

Her tone indicates a finality that makes your lips twitch. As the two of you drift off to sleep on the damp duvet you’re once again filled with the beautiful sense of belonging the ghouls seem to impart on you. You feel wanted. Loved, even.

Your dreams are filled with tenderness.

#cumulus x reader #cumulus x f!reader #cumulus ghoulette #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

219 notes · View notes

noctilucous-sunni · 2 years

Text

Burn me and all my tears for you too

contains — imposter!au, sagau, gn!reader, cultish behaviors, manipulation, burning??? also not entirely edited so there might be a few mistakes here and there. and im shit at tenses, apologies. sorta set after inazuma archon quest??

masterlist.

Shackled, shaking and sobbing. Crowds surrounded below you, at the feet of a statue with your own face carved into it. “Please.” you whisper. Tears race down your face, as you focus on slowing your movements so your shackles don’t electrocute you as much as they used to. Ei turns away from you. The harbingers all scoff and sneer at your worthless words.

A chuckle rings out maliciously. Almost revelling in your pain and suffering and fear. Terror as your life starts to flash before your eyes, your back hitting hard wood as your legs and arms continued to be shackled.

“Please! Please! I’m not… I never did anything! I..”

“Oh really? Then what about this face that you stole? So weak and pitiful, that's all I can say. Even just… looking at you is pathetic. Disrespecting the All-Creator like this, we did try to teach you some manners. It just wasn’t enough.”

A blue haired Cavalry Captain speaks, retaining his charm even though he speaks in such a chilly tone, that it makes you tremble. When he leans in, observing you up close, you feel the air get cold and your tears stop. Soon they start falling at your feet, frozen crystals of fear.

I can’t help it. I was born with this face, it is mine. Not Theirs. Mine. And yet all your beloved characters that you had got to know stared coldly at your crumpled and tired form while some looked on with pity.

Klee was confused. Albedo hadn’t yet arrived but he was trying to push through the crowd to be able to save you from this horrific fate you were about to meet, from the atrocious act of evil that they had all been involved in. Klee tries to run to you, and you catch the young girl’s gaze. Jean pulls her back firmly, not allowing her to be within even five metres of you. They labelled you a thief, an imposter. A sinner, the lowest of the low. Oh, how can they possibly be this ignorant? How far does all of the peoples of Tevyat stupidity stretch? Albedo wonders, an unknown emotion starting to rise. He would document this if he was not dealing with such a critical moment in this time and place.

The fire is lit by Diluc’s hands. He scowls as he approaches you, pleas and whimpers falling on deaf ears as he turns away to watch you burn with the others. Too late. The blond alchemist was too late.

As soon as the flames fly on your flesh, you scream. You start coughing rapidly, smoke invading your lungs. You couldn’t see—you could barely breathe. The pain was never ending, letting more screams slip from your lips. A cry that pierces the heavens as lightning flashes and rain starts to fall. The cooling drops dampen the fire, soothing your skin and some of the minor burns on your hands and feet. It was as if Teyvat itself was crying out for its creator, trying to save you.

Someone unlocks your shackles, soft hands and soothing whispers as they take you into their arms and shouts erupt from the crowd below you. Your eyes are open yet your mind is elsewhere. The only way you’re barely aware that several others are looking over you is the shadows that they cast. You don’t notice how the Archons are guilt stricken, and Venti is weeping at your side. Meanwhile, Ei and Zhongli feel sick to their stomach for the sinister crime they had encouraged and participated in. As they looked into your eyes, now shimmering with the colours of all the nations in Teyvat, they saw the truth. They felt your warmth, recognized the way the land itself loved you, as they were meant to. You were the All-Creator, Their beloved All-Creator and they had done what they deemed the ultimate sin.

You were in shock and soon enough, you fell into unconsciousness in the lap of the alchemist who had been too late, too late to explain that they were all wrong.

A few days of intensive care and rest allowed you to recover. Quicker than most, Barbara would say. But then again, you were the All-Creator.

Albedo, Klee and Barbara. Those were the only people you trusted after the… incident. Even comfortable in their presence, you were still mildly hesitant with Barbara at times and Alice’s daughter did tend to surprise you on occasion. In those few days of rest and recovery, the three of them visited you. Often, while Barbara tended to your injuries, Klee would entertain you with some story about her treasure or how she recently went fish blasting. You would smile and laugh lightly, before Klee would leave and then promptly fall into a deep sleep in Albedo’s lap.

All the acolytes were jealous of the alchemist. They too wanted to be the ones who held you in their lap as they gained your affections. But their crimes were too great. However, you certainly have a soft spot for children. You adored Klee and Qiqi and Diona. Xiangling often made you signature and special dishes to try, eagerly awaiting your commentary. They were simply sweethearts, young children who didn’t know whether to fear you or not. You would never think about putting any kind of blame on their shoulders.

When you finally did finish recovering, no one dared to look at you. You took your seat in a throne made by the Geo Archon himself, shoes clicking across the floor of the Church of Favonius. Looking at the sea of acolytes bowing down in front of you, a scowl makes its way onto your features. You scoff at the scene. “Get up. All of you.” You say with scorn bleeding into your voice. It makes even the Harbingers and Archons themselves shiver and flinch.

They are unable to hold your hard gaze, but they dare not fidget or move from their place. You desperately wish for Albedo’s presence at this exact moment. Instead, you had made sure he took all the children out, as to not allow them to be a witness to your fury.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, a question that is simply so innocent, but as your mouth speaks the words with such a cold and silent anger, the ground shakes.

It was a few moments before the eerie, ominous silence that fell on the people of Teyvat was broken.

“We are awaiting punishment… your grace. We know what we have done.” Morax speaks, the oldest of the current Archons.

You scoff. “Punishment? You think that low of me?”

It’s quiet. Uncomfortably quiet. The Archon shifted, guilt clear on his face as he started to speak again, before getting interrupted by you. A harsh laugh escapes from your throat. It's insincere and sharp. You walk over to him, despite being so small in stature yourself, as the Geo Archon bows his head, you tower over him and it is clear who holds authority here.

You do.

Grabbing hold of his cheek roughly, you make him face you, your eyes burning with a silent rage. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, Morax.”

A toothy smile greets your face, an expression similar to a shark seeing their prey. “You thought I would be cruel? In the way you were to me? You’re pathetic.” The smile drops off your features in an instant. Letting go of him, you shake your head and sigh, walking back to your throne.

“I’m tired. Leave.” You spat out, surveying the room as your so-called acolytes fled the room like terrified cattle. Catching sight of a particular ginger, you ponder your next actions. You could ask any other harbinger, but Signora was dead and you were once more particularly fond of said ginger. Now you simply said his name with distaste.

Childe’s head perks up, hearing you call his name. He tries to push through the crowd to get closer to you but it's certainly a struggle, even for him.

“Childe. Don’t make me repeat myself again.” You huff loudly, as the church empties.

The 11th Harbinger bows down in front of you, awaiting your words. Maybe he could redeem himself, maybe he could rid himself of the sins he’s committed against you. He’d do anything for that chance. You smirk at the scene of him confessing his absolute undying loyalty to you and only you. Good.. maybe having a little toy would be useful.

“I have a task for you… Childe.” you adopted a sugar sweet tone, the false affection in your voice dripping like honey. The harbinger craved it. He looks at you, nodding once to show he understood. “I heard that Scaramouche has gone missing, is that right?”

When you asked so sweetly like that, he had to answer. He nods again, opening his mouth to speak. “Yes, your grace. That’s true, and he ran away with the electro gnosis as well.”

You hum absentmindedly, seemingly more interested in the way a rock crumbled under your grip than his answer. “I see…”

You wanted to laugh. He acted like a weak puppy down at your feet. Finally placing your focus back on him, you decide to send him off.

“Childe… I want you to find Scaramouche. Bring him back here, to meet me. Alive, of course but I doubt you’d even be able to kill him in the first place.”

a/n: two posts in two days??? a miracle. anyways this has been in my drafts since august and im happy that ive finally finished it! its funny bc i checked the date i started and it was actually aug 14 and now its sep 14. does that mean it only took me a month?? wow. word count is 1.5k

#sunni writes #sagau #genshin impact x reader #imposter!au #morax #zhongli #childe #diluc #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact #genshin cult au #bamf!reader #angst #genshin angst #imposter sagau #sagau villain au #sagau zhongli

3K notes · View notes