#rainy respite | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yuki4amano · 2 months

Text

Timeless love. Chapter 4: Shadows of Deceit

Izuku stood before Yuki, his mind raced with doubts and uncertainties. Why had he given her that note? What had possessed him to ask her to meet him after school? And what on earth was he going to say to her now?

He berated himself for his impulsive actions, wishing he could turn back time and undo the mess he had created. But it was too late for regrets now. His only option was to directly confront the consequences of his decisions.

Yuki's presence before him only intensified his internal turmoil. She looked nervous, her eyes darting around as if searching for an escape route. He could sense her apprehension mirroring his own.

"Hey, Midoriya," she managed to say, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "You wanted to talk?"

Izuku nodded, his expression carefully neutral. "Yeah. There's something I need to tell you."

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. Instead of confessing his feelings, however, he found himself veering off course, fabricating a lie on the spot.

"I… I wanted to ask for your help," he began, his words stumbling over each other in his haste. "I want to befriend Shinso, but I'm not sure how to approach him. I thought maybe you could give me some advice?"

It was a feeble excuse, he knew, but it was the best he could come up with on such short notice. He hoped Yuki wouldn't see through his deception, and realize the true reason behind his request.

To his relief, Yuki released a sigh of relief, her tense shoulders relaxing slightly. "Oh, um, sure," she replied, her voice softening with a hint of uncertainty. "I'm not good at these kinds of things, but I'll do my best to help you."

Izuku nodded, a sense of relief flooding through him. His plan seemed to be working, at least for now. He would use Shinso as his excuse to get closer to Yuki, to bridge the gap between them and hopefully earn her trust.

While leaving the classroom together, Izuku was plagued by the unshakeable sensation of guilt gnawing at his conscience. He knew he was deceiving Yuki, manipulating her for his own selfish reasons. But he told himself it was necessary, that it was the only way he could protect her from the truth of his feelings.

Deep down, however, he couldn't help but wonder if he was doing the right thing. Would his lies only serve to push Yuki further away, to erode whatever fragile connection they had begun to build? Or would they pave the way for something more, something real and genuine?

As they walked side by side down the empty hallway, Izuku knew one thing for certain: his path was fraught with uncertainty, his heart torn between love and deception. But he was determined to see it through, to navigate the twists and turns of fate until he reached the truth, whatever it may be.

Before parting ways, Izuku took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. He turned to Yuki, his expression carefully neutral, hiding the turmoil of emotions raging within him.

"Um, Yuki," he began, his voice slightly hesitant. "I was thinking, since we're going to be spending more time together and Shinso is someone I've been wanting to get to know better, it might be helpful if we could stay in touch. You know, in case we need to coordinate or anything."

Yuki's brow furrowed in confusion, but she nodded slowly, sensing the sincerity in Izuku's words. "Sure, that makes sense," she replied, reaching into her pocket to retrieve her phone.

Izuku's heart pounded in his chest as he watched her, his nerves on edge as he waited for her response. With a small smile, Yuki handed him her phone, already opened to the contacts page.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Izuku entered his phone number into Yuki's device, his fingers moving with practiced precision despite the trembling in his hands. He couldn't help but feel a rush of anticipation as he completed the task, knowing that this simple exchange held the potential to change everything.

Once he was finished, Izuku handed Yuki back her phone, their fingers brushing briefly in the exchange. "There you go," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness. "Now we can stay in touch." Yuki nodded in acknowledgment.

As they parted ways, Izuku couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that lingered in the air. But deep down, he knew that this was just the beginning of a journey that would take them both to places they never imagined. And with Yuki's phone number safely stored in his device, he felt a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty of the path ahead.

As midnight descended upon the city, Izuku transformed into his alter ego, the vigilante known as Phoenix. With purposeful strides, he navigated the shadowed streets, his senses alert for any signs of trouble.

As he patrolled, he encountered various crimes in progress—robberies, assaults, and acts of vandalism. With swift and decisive action, he intervened, using his quirk and combat skills to subdue the perpetrators and protect the innocent.

As Izuku continued his patrol through the city streets, his senses alert and his mind focused, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him since his encounter with Yuki earlier that day. The weight of their impending conversation hung heavy on his shoulders, but for now, duty called, and he pushed aside his personal concerns to focus on the task at hand.

Midnight cast long shadows across the deserted streets, broken only by the dim glow of streetlights and the occasional flicker of neon signs. With each step, Izuku felt the weight of responsibility settle upon him, a constant reminder of the role he had chosen to play in the city's never-ending battle against crime.

As he rounded a corner, his keen eyes caught sight of a familiar figure engaged in a fierce battle with another masked individual. Instinctively, Izuku moved closer, his footsteps silent as he approached the scene.

It was Earsearhead, his class teacher, engaged in a fierce battle with Nocturne, the alter ego of his friend Shinso Hitoshi. A surge of adrenaline coursed through Izuku's veins as he watched the clash unfold, his mind racing to make sense of the situation.

Instantly recognizing the danger of the situation, Izuku moved closer, his footsteps silent as he approached the scene.

Nocturne fought valiantly against Eraserhead, but Izuku knew that his friend lacked the experience to match their teacher's skill. With a heavy heart, Izuku understood that Nocturne stood little chance of winning this encounter alone.

Determined to assist his friend without escalating the conflict, Izuku intervened, not to engage Eraserhead in combat, but to create an opportunity for Nocturne to escape. His movements were calculated and precise as he positioned himself strategically, his focus solely on ensuring his friend's safety.

As the battle raged on, Izuku waited for the opportune moment to act. When the chance presented itself, he sprang into action, using his agility and Quirk to distract Eraserhead and create an opening for Nocturne to slip away.

With a swift nod of acknowledgment, Nocturne seized the opportunity and made his escape, disappearing into the shadows as Izuku held Eraserhead's attention.

Alone now with their teacher, Izuku knew that direct confrontation was not the answer. Instead, he focused on evasion and evasion alone, using his agility and Quirk to stay one step ahead of Eraserhead's attacks.

Despite the tension in the air, Izuku remained calm and composed, his mind racing as he searched for a way to de-escalate the situation. He knew that victory was not their goal tonight; survival was.

As Nocturne vanished into the darkness, Izuku's senses heightened, his focus solely on evading Eraserhead's attempts to capture him. With each calculated movement, he dodged and weaved, his agility and reflexes pushed to their limits as he maneuvered through the narrow alleyway.

Eraserhead's binding cloth snapped through the air, narrowly missing Izuku with each swift motion. With precision born of desperation, Izuku danced around the makeshift weapon, his movements fluid and deliberate as he bought precious seconds, waiting for the opportune moment to make his escape.

With each passing moment, Izuku's heart pounded in his chest, the weight of the situation bearing down on him with unrelenting force. But he refused to succumb to fear, drawing upon his resolve and determination to see him through the ordeal.

As Eraserhead pressed his attack, Izuku seized a fleeting opening, a split-second window of opportunity. With a burst of speed, he darted past his opponent, his senses on high alert as he scanned the surroundings for any sign of Nocturne.

Spotting his friend disappearing into the distance, Izuku knew that now was his chance. With a silent vow etched in his heart, he propelled himself into the air, his Quirk propelling him upwards with incredible force.

As he soared through the night sky, the wind whipping past him, Izuku's thoughts raced with a mix of relief and determination. With Nocturne safely out of harm's way, he knew that his mission was a success, his actions ensuring the safety of his friend.

And so, with the city sprawled out beneath him and the stars twinkling overhead, Izuku disappeared into the shadows, leaving behind only the echo of his footsteps fading into the darkness. As he melted into the shadows, he knew that this encounter with Eraserhead was just one of many in the ongoing dance between hero and vigilante.

For Izuku, evading Eraserhead had become almost routine, a nightly ritual that tested his skills and resolve. With each escape, he honed his abilities, learning from his mistakes and adapting to the ever-present threat of capture.

As he moved through the city streets, Izuku's thoughts turned to the events that had led him to this point. The war against All For One, the loss of his beloved, and his journey back in time—all had shaped him into the vigilante known as Phoenix.

But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remained constant: his unwavering determination to protect the innocent and oppose those who sought to do harm. It was a mission that drove him forward, even in the face of overwhelming odds.

As he navigated the labyrinthine alleyways and dimly lit streets, Izuku remained ever vigilant, his senses attuned to the slightest hint of danger. Though the night held many dangers, he refused to falter, drawing strength from his resolve to make a difference in a world plagued by darkness.

With each step forward, Izuku braced himself for the challenges that lay ahead, knowing that the road to redemption would be long and fraught with obstacles. But he was willing to face whatever trials awaited him.

And so, with a silent vow etched in his heart, Izuku pressed on into the night, his path illuminated by the flickering glow of streetlights and the burning flame of hope that blazed within him. For in the darkness, he found purpose, and in the shadows, he found strength. And with every beat of his heart, he vowed to continue fighting, no matter the cost.

As Eraserhead watched Phoenix vanish into the night, a weary sigh escaped his lips. This was not the first time their paths had crossed, nor would it likely be the last. The vigilante's presence in the city had become an all too familiar occurrence, one that Eraserhead had grown accustomed to over time.

Though tempted to give chase, Eraserhead knew better than to pursue Phoenix further. Their encounters often ended in a stalemate, with the elusive vigilante slipping away before Eraserhead could apprehend him. It was a frustrating reality, but one that Eraserhead had learned to accept.

With a resigned shake of his head, Eraserhead turned his attention back to his patrol. There were still criminals to apprehend, citizens to protect, and a city to safeguard. Phoenix may have eluded him once again, but Eraserhead remained steadfast in his duty as a pro hero.

As he continued on his patrol, Eraserhead remained vigilant, ever watchful for any signs of trouble. Though Phoenix may have evaded capture for now, Eraserhead knew that their paths would inevitably cross again. And when they did, he would be ready.

For now, however, there were more pressing matters at hand. With a firm resolve, Eraserhead pressed on into the night, determined to uphold the peace and maintain order in a city teetering on the brink of chaos.

2 notes · View notes

catmint1 · 7 months

Text

I feel I owe myself a brief respite of leisure and no rushing around. I can't face the dead reality. I want rainy days, lanterns and a hundred moons twining in dark leaves, music spilling out and echoing yet inside my head.

—Sylvia Plath, from a letter to Aurelia Plath written c. August 1951

#quotes #sylvia plath #aurelia plath #respite #rainy days #lanterns #text

2 notes · View notes

dnmb-bish · 1 year

Text

#there are days where all i eat are saltines and my meds #but at least I’m eating #and at least I’m taking my meds #no one told me the adult side of depression would be avoiding the dentist like the plague #even when I’m sure my tooth is infected #or that my bed would be come my best friend when i used to hate it #rainy days are great but the darker it stays the worse i am and i #I’m desparetly looking for respite for help with these struggles #I’m stable but i can’t climb any higher alone

2 notes · View notes

petaltexturedskies · 10 months

Text

September approaching…I feel I owe myself a brief respite of leisure and no rushing around. I can't face the dead reality. I want rainy days, lanterns and a hundred moons twining in dark leaves, music spilling out and echoing yet inside my head.

Sylvia Plath, from a letter to Aurelia Plath written c. August 1951

#sylvia plath #letters #september #txt #end of summer #august #autumn

4K notes · View notes

bitchy-craft · 10 months

Text

What Your Future Spouse Thinks Of Your Voice | Pick A Pile

Hello and welcome to this Pick A Pile! In here you'll find out what your future spouse thinks of your voice. I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful. Do make sure to leave comments down below on your experience! I do want to remind you all that this is a General Pick A Pile which means this is for a lot of people; therefore keep what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Masterlist > Questions > Paid Readings

Pick A Pile!

Pile 1:

In the eyes of your future spouse, your voice is a haven of tranquility and comfort. Its velvety timbre carries a soothing quality, like the gentle rustle of leaves in a serene forest.

Your words wrap around them like a cozy blanket, offering solace and a sense of security. When they hear you speak, it's as if the world slows down, and the worries of the day fade into the background.

Your voice is their refuge, a safe space where they can find respite from the chaos of life. Its calming influence is a balm to their soul, a reminder that they are cherished and cared for.

Pile 2:

To your future spouse, your voice is a burst of vibrant energy that lights up their world. Its dynamic rhythm is like a dance of emotions, reflecting the kaleidoscope of feelings that you evoke.

Your voice is like a warm sunbeam that pierces through the clouds on a rainy day, bringing a ray of joy and positivity. They're captivated by the fervor in your speech, as if every word is an invitation to embrace life's adventures.

Your voice infuses a sense of vitality into their days, inspiring them to pursue their dreams with zeal. It's a reminder that life is meant to be experienced with enthusiasm and fervent spirit.

Pile 3:

In the heart of your future spouse, your voice is an enchanting melody that echoes through their thoughts. Its melodious cadence resonates like the notes of a timeless symphony, evoking emotions that words alone cannot convey.

Your voice is a tapestry of emotions, woven with threads of passion and vulnerability. Its alluring quality draws them in, making each conversation feel like an intimate dance of souls. They find themselves entranced by the way your voice carries the weight of shared experiences and whispered secrets.

Your words linger in their mind like a cherished song, a constant reminder of the deep connection you share.

680 notes · View notes

cinnamostar · 6 months

Text

02: self-fulfilling prophecy

part one.

pairing : jisung x gn!reader

summary : han jisung, the man who is incapable of maintaining a relationship for more than a few months. han jisung, the man who is in complete denial that maybe he is the problem. han jisung, the man who has convinced himself he isn’t meant for love.

wc : 4.6k

cw : not proof read, nonidol!au, angsty, sad, discusses insecurities in romance, sappiness, very dialogue heavy

a/n : if you haven't read part one, pls do! i hope you guys enjoy part two :') i didn't have a p2 planned when i originally wrote this, so i hope this is still good and an ending you guys will be happy with! <3 as always feedback is appreciated

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you exited Jisung’s apartment building, your body on the verge of collapsing as your emotions choked your breathing, your heart feeling as if it had just fallen and shattered inside your chest. Each breath you took caused the emotional pressure on your chest to hurt more, feeling as if your airways had been constricted by your own agony.

The dreary, rainy weather matched your mood as your legs carried you into the direction of Minho’s apartment, knowing it was the only place close enough for you to walk to at this time of night. The rain began to strengthen, the drops attacking your skin as your hair and clothes soaked it all up, a cold wind causing your body to shiver as you stumbled up the steps to Minho’s apartment. Your fists hurriedly knocked against the door, hoping Minho would somehow be able to sense the urgency behind it as your lips trembled in a poor attempt to stifle your cries.

Minho opened his door, his eyes widened at the sight of your distressed face, grabbing your hand and pulling you inside his home without a second thought, “Y/N? What happened? Are you okay?”

You tried to respond, but all that came out of your mouth was a gut wrenching sob, your body finally deciding to give up on maintaining appearances as you conceded to the stabbing pain your heart just suffered.

Minho stood there with panic rising in his body as he tried to piece together what could’ve left you in this state, unsure on how to comfort you in this moment. “Hey, it’s okay now, I’m here. Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll let you borrow some clothes? I’ll make you some tea in the meantime and then we can talk.”

You nodded thankfully at Minho, sniffling as he led you to the bathroom, handing you a bag to place your drenched clothes in, as well as a neatly folded pile of fresh clothes and a towel.

You entered the shower, letting the water warm your shivering body that had just been brutalized by the cold rain. Your tense muscles slowly began to relax under the heat of the water, giving you a much needed respite from the weight of your emotions. Despite the momentary calm the shower gave you, tears still escaped your eyes, blending in with the water that cascaded from the showerhead.

After drying yourself and changing into the clothes Minho had given you, you found him sitting at the kitchen table with two mugs of tea waiting to be drunk. He smiled when he noticed you approaching, almost relieved to see how significantly calmer you had looked. As you sat down, he slid one of the mugs towards you, motioning for you to take a drink.

“Did the shower help?”

You brought the mug to your face, blowing it gently to cool it down while nodding, “It did, thank you,” tears still pricking the corners of your eyes.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You placed the mug down on the table, taking in a sharp inhale as your chest tightened at his question as you recalled Jisung’s words, tears, once again, making their presence known. You did your best to get through your words, but your quivering voice revealed the hurt you were experiencing, “Well, I was with Jisung before I came…”

You squeezed your eyes shut in a feeble attempt to hold back a sob, “And I thought everything was fine, but out of nowhere,” you tried to rush through your sentence, but the overwhelming anguish you were feeling took control as you began to bawl.

Minho instinctively reached for your hand that was resting on the table, rubbing his thumb on your hand to soothe you, “Take your time, we have all night if you need, okay?”

Taking a few more moments to collect yourself, you continued on, “Out of nowhere, he told me he didn't think we were going to work and I… I don’t know, I just left. I feel so stupid right now,” you cried, your eyes puffing up from all the tears you were shedding.

Minho remained quiet for a moment, confused at his best friend’s actions while trying to find the right words, “Did he say why?”

You sighed while shaking your head, feeling guilty that you had let your panicked mind take control of you in that moment, “N-no, I didn’t even give him the chance, I just… Left… I don’t know, I just didn’t want to hear it. It was only going to make me feel worse and it just felt like he led me on, like all the rumors were true,” you weeped, “I should’ve listened to Hyunjin and Seungmin.”

“I’m sorry Y/N, it must’ve been a lot to take in at once,” he spoke softly, still leaving a comforting hand atop of yours, “But I don’t think you’re stupid, there’s nothing wrong with taking a chance at love.”

“I don’t know, I’m just really sad right now.”

“That’s okay, you’re allowed to be. Is there anything I can do that would help you? Do you want me to call anyone over? Get you something to eat?”

You sniffled, nodding your head, “Could you see if Hyunjin and Seungmin can come over? But please tell them what happened, I don’t wanna say it again.”

“Of course, I’ll do that right now.”

“And can you check on Jisung? He was… he was crying a lot when I left. I want to make sure he’s okay too.”

Minho smiled, “Okay, I’ll have the boys come over and then I’ll head over to his place once they get here. Sounds good?”

You nodded, feeling grateful for Minho’s kindness and patience, but also relieved to know that Jisung would have someone to talk to soon enough.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Minho lightly knocked on the door of Jisung’s apartment, anxiously waiting for the younger boy to open the door, his phone in hand ready to call if he took too long. From the other side of the door, he could hear hurried footsteps scramble towards the door as Jisung swung the door open, his face red and swollen from crying.

Jisung’s eyes widened in surprise and confusion, the hope he had in his eyes disappearing, “Minho? What are you doing here? I thought you were Y/N-”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“Huh?”

“They showed up to my place crying and told me what happened.”

“Oh,” Jisung’s face fell into a somber expression as he tried to stammer out an explanation, “Look, listen, please don’t be mad-”

Minho shook his head, letting himself in and gestured to Jisung to follow him in as he sat on the couch, “I’m not mad, I’m worried.”

Jisung gulped, unsure where this conversation was leading as he sat next to Minho, his brain exhausted from the millions of emotions he had been flipping through.

“Jisung, I thought you loved Y/N-”

“I do! I really do, I love them more than anything and anyone, I know that for a fact,” he sighed heavily as he felt his heart tremble in his chest, the pit of guilt growing deeper and deeper, “But I’m scared, I’m really scared.”

Minho let out a deep breath as he ran his hands through his hair, perplexed at his best friend’s words, “Of what exactly?”

“Of hurting them! Of not meeting their expectations, failing them, all of it. I’ve never been a good partner in the past, everyone knows this,” he muttered out each word with shame, “And I just didn’t want to ruin their image of me, I didn’t want to risk hurting them like I’ve done to everyone else… They’d be much happier if we were just friends.”

Jisung tried to blink away his tears, struggling to put in everything he was thinking into a coherent string of words as he nervously scanned Minho’s face, trying to figure out what the older boy was feeling.

“Okay, I can see where you’re coming from, but didn’t you just hurt them anyway? Didn’t you just do the opposite of what you wanted to?”

Jisung stood silent for a moment, not being able to deny any of Minho’s words, “Well, yes, but it was for the best. It’s better to end it now than later because it would hurt more then, right? I would rather hurt them like this than fail them as a partner.”

“I say this with all the love in the world, but Jisung, you’re being an idiot.”

The two stared at each other, waiting for one to make a move. On one end, Minho was hoping Jisung would be able to realize the stupidity in his behavior, while on the other, Jisung was completely dumbfounded and awaited Minho to further explain himself.

Realizing Jisung was too wrapped up in his own thoughts, Minho continued on, “Jisung, look. Everyone knows how much you love Y/N, okay? It’s so obnoxiously obvious, plus I’ve never seen you be so caring and attentive to anyone before. Clearly, they hold a special place in your heart, right?”

Jisung nodded timidly, letting out a small hum in agreement as that was all he could manage while he silently wept.

“It’s okay to be afraid, especially with what you’re struggling with, but just because you’re afraid doesn’t give you the right to make that decision for Y/N,” Minho leaned forward as he looked into Jisung’s eyes as he tried to convey the importance of his message, “Did you even think to consider how Y/N would feel? They know about your past, Jisung. Even Hyunjin warned them about you, but you know what? They still took that risk with you, and you were quickly proving them wrong before now.”

Minho sighed once more, “Jisung, it’s okay to be afraid, but you cannot make every decision so selfishly when there are other people involved. Y/N isn’t dumb, but they like you and want to take that chance with you. They like you despite your insecurities and flaws. You should’ve told them how you were feeling, but most importantly, they’re allowed to make their own choices. Let them choose to love you, don’t take that away from them.”

Wiping his tears away with his hands, Jisung jutted out his bottom lip in a pout as he sniffled, “They… they probably hate me now, I think it’s best I leave them alone.”

Minho rolled his eyes as he got up from the couch, still looking at Jisung, “Jisung, why don’t you stop assuming things for other people and find out from them directly?”

“But-”

“Y/N told me to check on you because they were worried. Just talk to them. If you truly love them, you’ll talk to them.”

With hands in his pockets, Minho made his way to the front door, “I have to go home, but you better talk to them. I’ll be really disappointed in you if you don’t.”

After Minho’s sentence, all that followed was the sound of the door shutting and the soft cries of Jisung, who was being eaten up by both guilt and anxiety, fearing how angry his friends must be at him. Part of him felt relieved that Minho was the first person he spoke to as his words brought him some sort of comfort, yet the overwhelming remorse and humiliation roared loudly in his mind.

Doubt and confusion lingered in him as he processed Minho’s words, unsure if you’d even be willing to talk to him after this. In his world, he thought after the hurt he had just inflicted on you, he was even less deserving of you. His irrational behavior and his instinct to react based on his fears and insecurities served as more proof that he was not fit for a relationship, that you were better off with someone who had a better grasp of who they were and what they wanted.

Yet, while he thought what he was doing was for your benefit, he hadn’t considered once how you’d feel and how this would impact you, especially considering how you both were practically acting like a couple at this point. Especially after he told you he needed more time, but then completely flipped that on its head and left you out in the cold with no real explanation. Minho was right, he was only thinking of himself, this wasn’t him being merciful and saving you from him, this was entirely him avoiding to confront himself. He was fleeing his own vulnerability and masked under some sort of self-righteous sacrifice for you. Much like in the past, he allowed his own selfishness to blind him from reality of his emotions and actions, but at least he was somewhat aware of it.

While Jisung cannot find it in him to forgive himself, he wondered and hoped whether you would, whether you’d look past his mistakes once more and accept him for who he was. He prayed silently that you’d still give him the chance he so desperately craved, yet so foolishly pushed away in the name of fear, wishing you’d still choose him when he didn’t know how to do that himself. Maybe what he needed all along was your neverending affection to finally learn how to love the parts of himself he hated, maybe he needed your gentle hand to guide him through love, maybe he should’ve trusted you while he learned to trust himself again. Just maybe, he would be able to learn what love was truly about if he had just listened to his heart, not his own negative self-hating mind.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Meanwhile, an extremely rageful Hyunjin and Seungmin sat with you on Minho’s couch as they tried to comfort you in sweet, hushed voices, doing their absolute best to keep their anger to themselves. Hyunjin held you in a tight hug as you cried into his chest, his chin resting on top of your head as a comforting hand rubbed your back in gentle circles. Despite the kindness of his actions, his face was a stark contrast as a scowl painted over his features, mentally cursing at himself for letting you get involved with Jisung and not doing a better job at deterring you from it.

Seungmin, on the other hand, was holding back as he bit his tongue, keeping any thought he had to himself because he knew if he opened his mouth, a fountain of expletives would pour out. He knew the last thing you needed right now was him speaking poorly of Jisung, even though he thought he deserved every angry world he had in his arsenal right now.

Through gritted teeth, Hyunjin softly mumbled, “I’m sorry, Y/N, this isn’t fair to you. You deserve better than that.”

Hiccuping, you whispered, “But I don't want anyone else, I still want him even if he’s being a stupid idiot.”

“Well, he made his choices. A bad one, but all you can do is move forward from it,” he sighed, silently communicating with Seungmin through indignant looks.

All Seungmin could do was hum in agreement, not trusting himself enough to keep his thoughts to himself as he cracked his fingers in frustration, thinking about how he was going to rip Jisung a new one the next time he saw him.

The front door clicked open, signaling that Minho had gotten back which caused you to sit up from Hyunjin’s embrace as you looked at Minho, tears staining your cheeks. The sight of your face had only made the flames of anger flicker more, serving as the perfect fuel for his seething body.

“Before you ask, yes, he’s okay,” Minho ressaured you as he made his way to the living room, shooting both Seungmin and Hyunjin a warning look as the two boys quickly hid their vexed expressions from you. You gave Minho a grateful smile as you, for the nth time that night, wiped your tears away.

“I talked to him too, he’s probably going to message you sometime tomorrow to talk things over if you’re open to that.”

You were about to respond, but Seungmin spoke before you could, “Is that a good idea?”

Minho glared at him, “Seungmin, think before you speak.”

Seungmin shrugged, choosing to look down at his phone, but then Hyunjin added, “I mean, he isn’t wrong… I think Y/N should have some time to process their feelings at the very least.”

“Are you Y/N?”

Both Hyunjin and Seungmin shook their heads nervously knowing they’ve upset the older boy, “Then that isn’t your decision to make. Let Y/N do what they feel is best. We all know how you guys feel about it, so please don’t make this any more difficult for them than it already is.”

The two boys muttered a quick apology to you, not wanting to add any more stress to your current situation, but you knew they only had your best interest in mind and wanted to protect you from any more hurt.

“It’s okay, thank you for caring for me, but I’d like to talk to him,” you said gently, giving the two boys a reassuring smile, “I’ll be okay, I can hold my ground.”

Seungmin sighed, “Whatever, just say the word and I’ll beat the shit out of him if it doesn’t go well.”

“I’ll verbally beat him,” Hyunjin added, causing you to giggle at the seriousness of their tones since you could never imagine them physically harming any living being.And, as if on cue, your phone vibrated, lighting up with the message:

hi, im sorry about earlier. can we talk tomorrow?

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Across from you sat a nervous Jisung, who was fidgeting since the moment he entered your apartment, his fingers tapping the table anxiously as he struggled to find the words, not knowing if there was anything he could say to truly convey how sorry he was. You stared at him from his seat, arms crossed with an expectant - yet patient - look on your face. Ten minutes had gone by since he had arrived, and not a single exchange of words had been made, and you were growing tired of it.

“Jisung, please say something.”

The boy froze his seat, his body tensing, not expecting you to say anything to him, “I-...” he paused for a moment, taking a shaky breath in, “I just do not think there are enough words in the world to express to you how sorry I am and how ashamed of myself I am.”

Tears began to well up in his eyes, his legs once again bouncing as he tried to get the words out, “It’s just a lot for me, I don’t know. I know my feelings for you are like nothing I’ve ever felt before, I know that I want to be with you more than anything in my heart, but…” he sighed heavily, running a hand through his soft locks, “I’m really scared,” he whispered so softly, you barely caught it.

It was your turn for your eyes to water, your heart taking a hit as your eyebrows furrowed sympathetically at Jisung’s words. Although you can recognize his fears and could only guess where he was coming from, it didn’t take away from the pain he caused you and how much it affected your trust in him.

“Could you explain to me what you’re scared of? I want to understand.”

The concern etched on your face and the genuinity behind your eyes makes Jisung fall in love with you all over again, seemingly making him melt under your gaze as his heart swells. But just as quickly as the affection rushed into his heart, also came the insecurity and negative thoughts that endlessly reminded him how undeserving he was of someone so considerate and selfless.

Jisung shook the thought out his head, reminding himself of what Minho had told him the day before, “I’m scared that I’ll hurt you. I have… well, you know, I’ve hurt my previous partners in the past and I’m terrified I’ll do the same to you,” he murmured, guilt lacing each word, “I’d hate to do the same thing to you, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself and even now I don’t know if I can.”

Part of you felt relieved to hear those words from Jisung, now knowing his reasonings were not due to a lack or loss of feelings, or did it have anything to do with your looks or his attraction to you, but rather he was battling his own bouts of insecurities. The other part of you felt guilty for assuming the worst in Jisung and not giving him a chance to explain himself initially, you felt terrible for thinking he was only having fun with you and leading on. The expression on his face told you everything you needed to know about him, and that was him being sincere with every word he spoke. He truly did care for you, he wanted the best for you, and was genuinely struggling with his own complex emotions.

“Jisung, it’s okay to be afraid. Trust me, I am too. I know about your past, even way before I even met Minho or you, but the person I’ve come to know is nothing like that. You’ve changed in the best way possible, I fell and still am falling in love with you everyday.”

Jisung’s eyes widened in shock when he heard your words. All his mind could focus on was how you heard about him way before you joined the team, you knew about every horrific thing said about him when you two first met, yet… You didn’t treat him any differently like others had, you gave him a chance to fully know the kind of person people thought of him as, you still… fell in love with him? Wait, did he hear that right? You love him too? Love?

How could it be possible, how could someone like you possibly love someone like him? How did you manage to see past all his ugly personality traits and still managed to fall in love with him? Oh, no. Did he trick you? Had he accidentally fooled you into thinking he was a better person than he actually was ever capable of being? Oh my, Jisung’s brain was short-circuiting as he started to panic, losing any sense of rationality he had.

Your warm hand resting on top of his caused him to break out of his stupor, his wide eyes softening around the edges at your loving expression and oh, how much he adored seeing himself in the reflection of your eyes filled with affection, a sight he swore he could die in.

“Talk to me, Jisung. Tell me what you’re thinking. I’m here for you, I won’t leave your side as long as you let me listen.”

“I… You’ve heard about me before you even met me?”

You laughed, “Yes, I did. Honestly, I thought you were a real asshole, but I’m glad I gave you a chance anyway. I don’t regret meeting you for a moment.”

His mouth fell open, still processing each word, “Even after I hurt you?”

“Well, I know now you meant no harm. This is hard for you, I can understand that. I also understand being afraid. What you did hurt me, but I love and care for you too much to let that ruin something between us so long you give us the chance too.”

Each word you spoke was as if a love spell was being casted on him, bewitching him completely as his heart began to pound faster, butterflies warming up the pit of shame he had been carrying with him this whole time. Your words enveloped him into a gentle embrace, so tactful and ginger with his soul, so perfectly chosen that it felt like you were healing cracks in his heart he didn’t even know existed. Oh, how could he have ever been so stupid to push away love so saccharine and addicting? He never knew love was truly like, but now he didn’t want to ever let it go, he wanted to relish under his warmth as long as he possibly could.

“Really? Do you really mean it?” Of course he knew the answer to that already. Just one look into your eyes, and he could see that you were offering him every part of you and a lifetime of love, and he’d be a fool to ever doubt you.

“I do. I mean it with everything in me.”

Your honey-coated words left him in a blushing mess, nervousness still present in his body, but all for a much different reason. Your sincerity excited him, yet it also filled him with anxiety, the fear of disappointing you looming over him, convinced he had tricked you into falling for a false image of him.

“But… What if I hurt you again? What if I disappoint you? What if I turn out to be as bad as everyone said? I’m not as good as you think I am, Y/N, really I-”

“Jisung.”

He stopped in his tracks, biting the inside of his cheek as he felt your hand squeeze his reassuringly.

“We are two different people, with two entirely different life experiences. Yes, eventually, you’ll hurt me, and I’ll hurt you too. In relationships, we are bound to upset one another, but what matters is how we approach those situations,” you whispered softly, scooting your chair closer to him, “I don’t care who you think you are because I love you for you, and I think you’re the most wonderful experience I’ve had. You can be afraid all you want, but I promise I’ll hold your hand through it and show you that you’re worthy of that love.”

As you scooted your chair next to Jisung’s, both your hands reached to cup his face, wiping away the tears he had shed, “I promise. As long as you let me, I’ll be here for you. Even if you don’t trust or believe in yourself, can you trust me? Will you believe me when I say you’re an amazing human being? Will you let me teach you how to love and be loved?”

All Jisung could do is marvel at the sudden closeness, his cheeks and ears flushing the instant he felt your touch. Your words only sent him further down into a frenzy, goosebumps forming at your declaration as he felt himself swoon in his seat, his head dizzying from the overwhelming sensation of both nervousness and affection. He had so much to say, yet his mouth could barely utter out a sound as he shrunk in his seat, your boldness taking him aback.

Even though he hadn’t moved from his seat once, he felt himself become breathless as he admired each of your features, he swore he heard wedding bells in the background as you spoke. Oh, c’mon, Jisung, you need to say something. He was panicking, much like he was during your first meeting, struggling to find the words as he became entranced with you, capturing every detail of your face in his mind so he’d never forget this moment.

“I love you.”

That was all he could say, all he could muster up, but that was enough. That was all you needed to hear as you let out a giggle, your eyes crinkling as you smiled, “I love you too.”

“I’m sorry for being an idiot. I want to try my best for you. I promise I will.”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize, and I know you will.”

“Can… Can I kiss you?”

His question caught you by surprise, heat rushing to your cheeks while nodding, mumbling a quick ‘of course you can,’ as you pulled his face to yours, planting your lips onto his.

Maybe Han Jisung wasn’t so bad after all.

193 notes · View notes

just-castlevania-imagines · 8 months

Note

Would it be possible for a soft head canon or imagine of Dracula with fem!reader. Just a soft, fluffy, and cozy between him and his s/o?

Also, welcome back! We've missed all of you so much! So excited to have you all back!!

🪻🩷🪻

Cozy Afternoons Dracula x Fem!Reader

Dracula is no stranger to the quiet. He likes it. But doesn't quite enjoy it. You see, it's a time for respite from everything. But truly enjoying those moments is something he doesn't recall doing in a long time.

That is, until you came along.

The quiet times are spent talking about anything and everything.

Sometimes just quietly reading while in each other's arms

Rainy days spent with hot drinks under his cape, watching the rainfall while he told you stories from centuries long past.

A warm summer night spent with the windows open, playing games sitting on a table near it. With a view to the world blanketed by darkness.

He enjoyed simply listening to your beating heart, the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed.

The simplicity of it all made his dead heart feel alive.

- Mod Medusa

#vlad dracula tepes x reader #dracula x reader #castlevania netflix #castlevania imagines #castlevania x reader #vlad dracula tepes #mod medusa

216 notes · View notes

senseifupa · 6 days

Text

Higuruma Hiromi | Love you a waffle lot, you know?

Sfw, established relationship w/ soft king Hiromi. fluff with smoochin (so sprinkled nsfw if you squint)

Foodies and Goodies entry and also me dusting off the typewriter after almost 10 years of not writing a fic. Thank you @tsukimefuku for the inspo!

The sensation of the cold, wet air and the faint sound of rain awaken your senses. A rainstorm provides respite from a week of stress, anxiety, and fatigue as it welcomes you to a new day. The overcast sky is causing very little light to filter into your bedroom. You awaken to the sensation of cold, satiny sheets beneath your hands, only to find yourself alone in the vast bed. With a smile and a hint of grogginess, you realized that not even a rainy Saturday would keep Hiromi in bed past 10 am unless you physically held him down.” That man can’t stay still.”

When you look out the window to see the rain splattering over the glass, the smell hits your nostrils just in time. The chill of the outside air was making it slightly uncomfortable to stay in bed. Well. Uncomfortable to stay in bed alone.

Shuffling down the hall to the low-lit, sage-colored, sunflower-accented kitchen as your husband comes into view. Wearing a fitted knit tank top and pajama pants from a set you bought him years ago, he leaned against the kitchen counter. Dark hair was damp, and wispy strands were sticking together at the nape of his neck. Eagle eyes watch the waffle maker as if it’ll walk off if he even thinks about looking away.

He notices your outline at the doorway and turns to you, holding out his hand for you to come to him.

“The waffle maker? You’re pulling out the heavy artillery. Need any help?”

With a slight shake of his head, the corners of his mouth turn upright.

“Was going to bring it to you. You didn’t have to get up, darling.” He spoke warmly. Fingers hooked with his, the smell of his aftershave commingling with the scent of the dripping coffee nearby.

“I was getting cold.” He brings you closer on impulse, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your back with a delicate touch. His embrace is familiar and inviting as he kisses your head. His steady breath encouraged a sense of cozy contentment.

“You looked quite comfortable. It would’ve been a crime to wake you. So I figured I’d make a simple breakfast we could enjoy in bed."

“You spoil me, Mr.Higuruma.”

“Oh, just you wait. I even have the berry syrup you love to have with them.”

Eyebrows raised now with just a hint of excitement. “What on earth am I going to do with you?” The ding of the waffle maker brings you two apart. He gives your forehead a soft peck before you reach the kitchen nook in the corner.

“Love me forever, of course.”

"And if you think that’s bad, she didn’t even update us. Just sent the files over to Nanami and left for her vacation.” His hand on your thigh, not keeping you from spilling your thoughts.

“Not even a concern about whether our workload was already maxing us out.” The golden brown waffles sat in front of you both, fragrant berry syrup dripping off the sides as you cut into the crispy cake, feeding another forkful to Hiromi, him happily receiving the food, chewing as you talked about the previous work day.

“I’m telling you, romi. The late nights because of her lack of care are becoming irksome. Either her boss gets her together, or I’m tying Mei Mei to a tractor-trailer by that stupid braid”. Hiromi observed you as you grabbed your coffee, the first sip taken with closed eyes. 4-second sip followed by a quick lick of your lip to catch the vanilla-flavored trickle. He always waited to make sure he had your coffee perfect before taking a sip of his own. Noticing his gaze, you move the mug from your lips.

“Honey, you okay?”

“Of course, darling.” He kissed your neck, then lips, the taste of the sweet syrup lingering. “Mei is being her usual half-ass self while you and Nanami work to improve her look.” Eyes now on you, he thumbs at your lips. “ You deserve the opportunity to tie her to that tractor-trailer.” The rich tone of his voice, followed by his lingering gaze, kept you from immediately replying. You instead smirk, sipping your coffee again.

“You know what I’m going to say, so I won’t say it.” That simpered smile you’ve loved from the beginning tugs at his cheeks, “But… whenever you decide to put the salary job down…”

“I know, Hiro..” the unyielding taps of rain on the glass filled the comfortable silence. Taking your fork and having a bite of the waffle, eyes closing for a moment. “Mmm”

His lips met yours in a soft kiss, his hands reaching to bring your legs to his lap.

“I don’t like seeing you stressed. Leave that type of nonsensical energy for me to work through.”

“And what do I do when you are overly stressed, my dear husband?” Reaching to glide the tip of your finger down his aquiline nose. A sigh of contentment huffed softly under your always tender touch.

The pitter-patter of the rain hitting the glass is soothing. droplets slide down the window in a slow, methodical movement, colliding with one another and forming larger droplets that glide down faster.

Your view through the rain-streaked window was now slightly obstructed, adding to the coziness of being inside. Hiromi forks another piece of waffle into his mouth, returning his attention to you and pushing the plate away.

“This. Simply be near me.” Dexterous fingers grip your thigh as his loving gaze approaches your face. “Be near me and maybe make the waffles next time. They don't taste like yours.”

“Nutmeg. And just a spill of heavy cream.”

“Nutmeg. You beautiful genius.”

The sound of the rain fills the air, the steady rhythm of the drops building a barrier around you, separating you from the world for the weekend. Whispers of affection and conversation as your forever coffee date share what he wants to do on your rainy weekend inside.

51 notes · View notes

dewitty1 · 5 months

Text

Fic Recs Wrap Up December 2023 ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚･*:.｡.♡⑅୨୧̩̩̩̥✼• .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

All Things Go by iota @sorrybutblog

Draco’s back at Hogwarts by court order. Harry’s back for no particular reason at all. Some things change, some stay the same. Neither expects to spend eighth-year living in close quarters, playing rugby (poorly), staying up late, sneaking around, and finally figuring it all out. Rec Post

The Inconvenient Death(s) of Harry Potter by nv-md (ANW815) @nv-md

Harry and Draco have spent the decade since the War avoiding each other, even as they’re forced to work together at the Ministry and their friend groups begin to alarmingly overlap. But what happens when Harry meets a tragic end (in a manner of speaking) and Draco’s the only one who can save him? Or Harry won’t stop dying, Draco’s had too much coffee, and there’s more than enough time for them to make a mess of each other’s lives. Rec Post

Constellations on your skin by shushu_yaoi_lj @orange-peony

“I’m going to get my scars removed,” Draco announces on a rainy Wednesday afternoon. “Who are you seeing?” Blaise asks. “The best Healer out there,” Draco replies with a little shrug. “Harry Potter.” Rec Post

and the world is tumbling down by thewakeless @thewakeless

Draco is thirty-five and content. He’s a writer, a painter, and has built a life for himself totally separate from the one he envisioned as a sullen, fearful boy at Hogwarts. Everything is calm—until his house begins trying to kill him. Rec Post

The Cursed Manor by AhaMarimbas @mars-bar81

Ophelia’s been a paranormal investigator for almost ten years, and she’s starting to run out of haunted and cursed sites to explore. When her eclectic roommate and assistant reveals that he owns a large, cursed Manor, Ophelia finds a lot more than just a new career opportunity. Rec Post

The Unknown Door by waterwings @amywaterwings

There is something wrong with the Bellcrest. The heart of the place beats rotten. Everyone says so. Where Draco is a magical property manager, Harry is a recluse, and they’re definitely not hiding from their problems in the run-down flats of the Bellcrest. Not at all. Not one bit. Rec Post

Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm by flightinflame @flightinflame

Eighth-year offers Draco a brief respite before he returns to Azkaban. With a restricted wand, and memories of a girl who shouldn’t exist, he has very little hope for the future. But when Harry brings Teddy into the school, and proves to be utterly clueless, things change beyond anything he could imagine. Rec Post

Historians by oknowkiss @oknowkiss

It’s the Dumbledore’s Army Reunion Holiday, and Harry’s found himself in hot water with his friends once again, after telling them he has a boyfriend he definitely does not have. In an attempt to fix things, he’s made it his colleague on Level Nine, Draco Malfoy’s problem too. Featuring a ski chalet in Switzerland, a pair of bunk beds, and an agreement that should’ve been simple, were it not for all the bloody feelings getting in the way. Rec Post

Here are a few more fics I've read recently that y'all might like to check out as well!(ノﾟ∀ﾟ)ノ━☆ﾟ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･.*･｡ﾟ*:・ﾟ✧

Draco's First Holiday by Meowfoy @resilientkitteh

Draco catches Blaise cheating, breaks up with him and decides to leave his French Villa behind to swap houses with a woman named Hermione and her husband Ron. His relaxing vacation becomes far more interesting when a handsome stranger (Harry) knocks at his door in the middle of the night. They meet and get to know each other, and suddenly Draco feels much better about his decision to leave France behind for Britain.

Englishman Extraordinaire by BlueSundayCake @bluesundaycake

When Draco's life goes to shit, he gets scammed. Maybe it's for the best. Who doesn't love new beginnings?

Letters by CoffeeDragon87 @coffeedragon87

When Harry Potter turned eleven he received a letter that changed his life forever. When Harry Potter, now a dashingly handsome bachelor, Head of the Auror Department and loving godfather, is thirty-five history repeats itself.

With and Without You by Shewhxmustnxtbenamed @shewhomustnotbenamed

Harry and Draco realize that they’ve been living in the same building for the past five years, hiding from the Wizarding world in Muggle London for a variety of reasons. They grow unexpectedly close and Harry realizes that Draco’s relationship with his boyfriend is abusive, spiraling as he tries and fails to figure out how to help. In Harry’s rejection of the Wizarding world in general, he has fallen out of touch with his friends and his magical abilities, but has to reconnect with both in order to find himself again.

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡ I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I have! Happy reading, y’all & I hope 2024 is good to you! Happy New Year! xoxo Carey (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖

95 notes · View notes

comatosebunny09 · 1 year

Text

deep-fried | u. tengen

summary: he’s spoken to you in passing. friendly greetings and excuse me’s when he bumped into you at the grocery store. he can’t deny entertaining the thought of how soft your hips must feel. how cute you must sound, tongue curling around his name. genre: modern au, romance cw: mentions of alcohol, language, black female reader, suggestive themes, stream of consciousness, incomplete

Darkness swaddles him as the wind howls beyond the confines of his truck.

It’s quiet inside, save for the lazy purr of his Ram and the melancholy music spilling from his speaker. His grip on the steering wheel is lax as he creeps through his drowsy neighborhood, headlights shining off windows shut tight.

The clock on his display reads 10:37. Another night spent rotting away in his office. He rolls out the kinks in his neck. Exhaustion leaks down his shoulders, curling around his bones and puddling at his feet.

The day wasn’t kind to him. He spent it in and out of meetings. Deals fell through. Clients were no-shows. He had to lay off a few of his strongest employees at the urging of his superiors to compensate for the company's financial imbalance.

All he wants now is a stiff one and the chilly clutch of his bed. Just wants to throw this week in the backseat along with his briefcase. Maybe he’ll scrounge up some three-day-old stir fry from his fridge before he hits the sheets.

But then it’s there, burning in his peripheral when he rounds the corner: orange and blue flames dancing in the wintry gale. Golden swatches of light bounce off your features, highlighting the smile rounding your lips.

“What the...fuck?” Tengen rasps. He rolls the window down halfway and turns his music to a dull murmur. Slows to a stop, brakes squealing. He props his arm on the steering wheel. Your chuckle follows. Warm milk and honey to his ears. He finds your smile infectious, his own canting his lips.

“Howdy, neighbor!” Your voice is husky. Flirtatious even. You sit on your cozy outdoor sectional with a bottle gleaming in your fingers, raised to him in greeting. The breeze carries the oaky scent from your fire pit, reminding him of log cabins and days spent amid the snow.

“What’s this all about?” he asks, chin nestled in his palm. Surprised by how easy it is to skip formalities with you like he’s talking to an old friend. He’s not enamored. There’s no way.

He’s spoken to you in passing. Friendly greetings and excuse me’s when he bumped into you at the grocery store. Simple conversations after running into each other at the gym. He can’t deny entertaining the thought of how soft your body must feel, though. How cute you must sound, tongue curling around his name in that Southern twang.

You stand, thighs thick even beneath the slouched fleece of your sweats. Throw your arms up, your sweater flashing a slither of smooth, dusky skin. His mouth waters. It takes all of him not to bite his lip.

“Shoooot! I made it through another week!” Your grin is lopsided as you rock to the mellow tunes flowing from your speaker. He falls deeper into your web, chuckling. He’s envious of your carefree nature. Wishes he could bottle it up for use on a rainy day. “Care to join me?”

The offer is tempting. Sure, Tengen planned to drink himself into a stupor. But your body language beckons him, and your finger curls in a come hither gesture while you dance like a tipsy fool.

Fuck it. He could use a little respite.

His reply comes as easy as breathing in and out. “Gimme a sec to get out of this monkey suit, and I’ll see how I feel afterward.”

You giggle. Do an accomplished jig around the fire. Tengen can’t help but laugh as he slides off. You’re adorable in your own right.

Excitement wriggles into his fingers as he slides into his driveway. Soon after, he slips into his house, toeing his loafers off by the door. Shimmies out of his coat, making a beeline for the shower, blood pulsing in his ears.

He carries the aroma of rosewood and smoke with him when he sidles up to your patio 30 minutes later.

Tries to play it cool, hands shoved in his pockets, though his chest is afire. Pretty thing like you hankering for his company. He should be so lucky.

“Drink?” you offer, your tone heavy with inebriation.

Corona. He’s not the biggest fan. Prefers the sting of something sour, but he accepts it on his way down onto the cushion beside you, anyway. Tengen sits back in an easy slouch, draping his arm across the headrest. His rings clack against the glass as he brings the bottle to his lips, condensation dripping onto his turtleneck.

For a while, nothing but the sounds associated with nighttime fill the space between you. The fire pops and fizzes. Crickets chitter in the distance. Trees shiver in the breeze. A dog or two barks somewhere far off. Tengen falls prey to the inner workings of his mind before rustling fabric brings him back to the present.

“What's wrong, suga?”

His gaze drifts to you, angled towards him. Your vibe is maternal despite the distilled wheat wafting off your breath. Must be that Southern hospitality everyone talks about. He sighs with a drop of his shoulders, taking another swig. “Just another day at the office.”

“Wanna talk about it?” You lean closer. Fill his nose with the fragrance of cracked vanilla beans, heat rolling off you in waves. He finds himself disarmed around you. Nerves flare when your tiny fingers brand his quad, scorching him to the bone.

“Not really,” Tengen husks, lost in the idle stir of your eyes. He feels like he could tell you everything. But for now, he’s content with soaking up your presence. Hasn’t had a lady friend for some time now, having fully embraced bachelorhood.

“That’s alright.” Give his thigh a squeeze, irises twinkling with something indiscernible. The shadows cast by the fire shroud your intentions. “Just know that whatever storm you’re weatherin’ is temporary. ‘sides, it’s the weekend! It’s time to turn up!”

He chortles at how quickly the mood shifts. At your goofy little dance, taking another sip of his beer. His hand engulfs yours atop his thigh, entranced by the smoothness of it. He could get used to this. Get used to you.

The air feels lighter now. It’s easy to slide into meaningful conversation, throwing back a few more beers as the night eases into the wee hours of the morning.

At some point, he finds himself nestled in the plushness of your sofa inside.

The lights are turned off, the only illumination coming from the silvery moon peeking through your blinds. Sultry jazz tinges the air, chorusing with soft giggles and husky praise. A sheen of desire hangs overhead, intermingled with the smell of firewood clinging to your clothes.

Your thighs are tender in his hands. Doughy like he knew they would be, framing his hips. Your fingers make an unhurried excursion to the hair at his nape as your lips brand his carotid. His responding chuckle is breathless, disbelieving. Vibrates your chest, your breasts warm against the hard press of his torso.

He's grinning like a fool, lids heavy. Can't help mulling over what brought you to this point as his hands engulf the dips of your hips. Sucks his lip between his teeth, his voice a low gravel as you bear down on the apex of his thighs.

#tengen uzui x reader #tengen uzui x you #tengen x you #uzui x you #uzui tengen x reader #uzui x black reader #tengen x black reader #kny x you #kny reader insert #kny x reader #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader

152 notes · View notes

yuki4amano · 2 months

Text

Silent Suffering. Subdued Struggle

Yuki sat at her desk, watching as Shiki laid her head down with a grimace, clutching her stomach. The murmurs of discomfort escaped Shiki’s lips, and Yuki couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. She wondered what it would be like to experience period cramps, to feel the ache in her abdomen that seemed to plague so many other girls.

As Shiki complained to her friends, Yuki’s mind wandered, consumed by thoughts of her own body’s peculiarities. She remembered the countless times she had walked through the pouring rain during her period without so much as a twinge of discomfort. No cramps, no headaches—nothing.

Was she just strong, or had she never noticed her own period cramps? Yuki pressed her hand to her lower stomach, hoping to simulate the sensation. But as the pain grew too intense, she quickly withdrew, feeling frustrated and confused.

Her eyes flickered to Shiki, who continued to lament her pains to her friends. Yuki longed to ask if Shiki was exaggerating or if the pain was as unbearable as it seemed. But her reclusive nature held her back, trapping her in a prison of silent suffering.

The school bell rang, signaling the end of class, and Yuki followed her classmates out of the room with a heavy heart. She made her way to the restroom, seeking solace in the quiet confines of a stall. Locking the door behind her, Yuki finally allowed herself to break down.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she grappled with feelings of inadequacy and frustration. She felt incomplete, as if some essential part of her womanhood was missing. The urge to throw a tantrum, to scream and rage against the unfairness of it all, welled up inside her.

But instead, Yuki curled in on herself, whispering reassurances through her tears. “It’s just hormones,” she repeated like a mantra, trying to convince herself that her feelings were nothing more than a trick of biology.

And as she sat there, alone in the dim light of the restroom stall, Yuki allowed herself to grieve for the experiences she would never have, for the pain she would never feel. And though the tears continued to flow, she found a small measure of peace knowing that she was not alone in her struggles.

Yuki took a deep breath, wiping away the last traces of tears from her cheeks as she unlocked the stall door. Stepping out into the restroom, she splashed some cold water on her face, hoping to wash away the lingering remnants of her emotional turmoil.

As she made her way to the cafeteria, Yuki’s thoughts still weighed on her mind. But seeing her friend Shinso sitting alone at a table, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Maybe spending time with him would help chase away the lingering shadows of her sadness.

Shinso glanced up as Yuki approached, his violet eyes narrowing with concern as he took in her red-rimmed eyes. “Hey, Yuki. Are you okay?”

Yuki managed a weak smile, nodding as she slid into the seat across from him. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just had a rough moment.”

Shinso nodded understandingly, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand in a silent gesture of support. “Well, I’m here if you need to talk about it.”

Yuki nodded gratefully, feeling a surge of warmth at Shinso’s offer. “Thanks, Shinso. I appreciate it.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the chatter of their classmates providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation. And as Yuki sipped her drink and listened to Shinso’s stories, she felt a sense of peace settle over her.

As Yuki sat with Shinso, her mind began to clear, and a newfound sense of acceptance settled over her. She realized that her struggles were a part of what made her unique, and she didn’t need to conform to anyone else’s expectations of womanhood.

With a small smile, Yuki reflected on the strength she had gained from facing her own challenges. While other girls may never understand the absence of period cramps or headaches, Yuki knew that her experiences had shaped her in ways that were just as valid.

She didn’t need to envy those who complained of their monthly pains. Instead, she could take pride in her resilience and the friendships she had forged along the way. Yuki was different, and that was something to celebrate, not lament.

As she laughed and talked with Shinso, Yuki felt a renewed sense of confidence wash over her. She may not fit the mold of a typical teenage girl, but she was perfectly content being herself—a girl who had faced her demons and emerged stronger for it.

She was different, but she was also strong, and that was all that mattered in the end.

2 notes · View notes

vilentia · 10 months

Text

Unspoken Hearts

Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: Three near-misses and one momentous confession in the life of Steve Rogers .

****

The First Time

Steve had always been a man of action, not words. Yet, as he watched you from across the room, your laughter tinkling like wind chimes on a breezy summer day, he felt the words on the tip of his tongue. It was a quiet evening at the Avengers' compound, the team gathered for a rare moment of respite. Your smile was radiant, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you recounted a story. Steve's heart swelled, and for a fleeting moment, he almost said it, those three words that had taken root deep within him.

But he didn't. Instead, he smiled back, his eyes speaking volumes as he silently marveled at the incredible person you were.

The Second Time

The second time came during a mission, one fraught with danger and uncertainty. You and Steve were side by side, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you fought alongside one another. In the heat of the battle, as explosions erupted around you, he caught a glimpse of your determined expression, unwavering even in the face of chaos.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still, and Steve almost whispered those words of love, words he had held back for so long. But the mission demanded his attention, and he couldn't afford any distractions. So he fought on, his feelings buried deep within, yet stronger than ever.

The Third Time

It was a quiet evening, much like the first, but this time the Avengers were scattered, and it was just the two of you. You sat together on the balcony, gazing up at the star-studded sky. The night air was cool, and a comfortable silence enveloped you. Steve glanced at you, his heart pounding as he realized just how much you meant to him.

The words nearly tumbled from his lips, but he hesitated. He feared that saying those words might change everything, that they might jeopardize the precious connection you shared. So, he simply reached for your hand, entwining his fingers with yours, and held you close, silently conveying what his words could not.

The Fourth Time

It was a rainy day, the sound of droplets against the windowpane providing a soothing backdrop to your quiet afternoon together. Steve sat beside you on the couch, his gaze fixed on the book you were reading. The room was filled with a sense of calm, a moment of serenity in a world often filled with chaos.

And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, Steve turned to you, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion that couldn't be contained any longer. With a gentle smile, he said those three words that had been on the verge of escape for so long, "I love you."

Your heart skipped a beat as you met his gaze, and in that moment, you knew that your love story was just beginning.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you smiled, your voice quivering with emotion as you replied, "I love you too, Steve."

As those words hung in the air, the rain outside seemed to pause, as if even the heavens were holding their breath, celebrating this moment of love and vulnerability. Steve pulled you into his arms, and together you embraced the truth that had been silently growing between you, filling the room with warmth and the promise of a future filled with love.

111 notes · View notes

spoiledleaff · 10 months

Note

leafy... the mental image you gave in that puppy rain ficlet of rain making dew play his guitar while they're breeding fucking him "six ways to fuckin' sunday" is haunting me just as much as subby puppy rain O_O /pos /so very fucking pos

would you consider writing a little something about that ? 👀

i can gift you flowers... 💐💐💐💚💐💐💍💐💐💙💐 :D

hehehehehehehheheheheehheheeheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheeheheheheheheheheheheheeheheheheheheheehehehe— of course ùwú anything for flowers from you, my love! :> (also a massive thank you to @littlemoon-beam for dealing with my instrument inexperience, haha! :'D)

explicit ✿ he/him ftm dew + they/them intersex rain ✿ wc ; 598. terminology for dew includes ; clit + pussy/cunt + folds ✿ terminology for rain includes ; cock/dick.

"You stopped." Rain sighs, their nose nuzzling deeper into that clammy, sensitive spot behind Dewdrop's ear as the smaller ghoul whines. "Keep going, baby."

Rain is laid out underneath Dewdrop, relishing in the way the fire ghoul's body presses down against their own. Dewdrop is laid out on top; naked from the waist down, legs spread and held open with Rain's own scrawny limbs, and his signature white Fender Stratocaster held in his trembling fingers. The littler sin is laid bare above Rain: speared open, overstimulated, and still forced to play.

"Fuck-!" Dewdrop whines as Rain's balls slap loudly against his inner thighs; their pace is brutal and cutthroat as they fuck into Dewdrop's pussy with terrifying precision.

Their shaft rubs against every sensitive bundle of nerves hidden inside Dewdrop's inner walls, the copious amounts of cum that Rain has already pumped into Dewdrop's womb spilling from his stretched hole, growing tacky over their inner thighs. Dewdrop's clit stands proud against his foreskin; his labia is swollen and slick, and his entire core is flushed tomato red from how aroused and neglected his clit remains.

"Keep playing." Rain repeats, nipping at Dewdrop's earlobe. The slick sound of Rain's shaft mercilessly pounding in and out of Dewdrop's cunt echoes in his ears. The sound is embarrassing, but the fact that Rain still expects the fire's sin to play through his Respite solo flawlessly has Dewdrop's pussy gushing.

(And Rain knows; they both know. Hell, they both can fucking hear it.)

Dewdrop's fingers tremble over the strings, the edge of his guitar presses against his stomach and the weight of it rests terribly close against Dewdrop's pubic mound. Idly, the fire ghoul wonders if the thoughts racing through his mind are what Swiss thinks every time a 'practice session' of his gets derailed.

The rim is so fucking close. If Dewdrop ruts his hips up and drops his posture just a scant few inches, maybe he'd-

"Dew." Rain's voice is dark, their claws scrape dangerously against the bones of Dewdrop's hip. "Don't make me fucking repeat myself."

And the worst part of it all is Rain's voice is still so fucking steady. They're so goddamn deep in Dewdrop's cunt that he can feel the chill of Rain's slick, gushing like a waterfall just behind the weight of Rain's balls. Dewdrop can feel the way their cum and combined buckets of slick splatters against his burning skin, and he swears that he can hear the way the droplets sizzle and evaporate against his inner thighs.

With every inch of his vessel either trembling or spasming, Dewdrop's fingers slowly find the correct cords for Respite on the Spitalfields. The opening notes of his solo are quiet against the loud plapplapplapplap- of Rain's dick spearing him open. Every digit, every knuckle feels like it's rattling against his bones, and Dewdrop shudders as Rain's claws sink into his flesh.

"'M gonna cum-" He gasps, missing a note. "Rainy, Rainy, please- 'm gonna fucking cum-"

"I don't care." Rain whispers, forcibly rocking Dewdrop's body as the little sin struggles to hold his guitar. "You can cum as many times as it fucking takes for your stupid little brain to get this solo right."

Dewdrop sobs as Rain makes him start over, the embarrassing squelch of Dewdrop cumming for the fourth time that night rings louder in his ears than the fucking guitar laid over his stomach.

"Keep playing, Dew." Rain grunts, their pace somehow fucking quickens. "I'll pump my seed into that fucking cunt until your thighs are the same goddamn white as that guitar."

#spoiled writing #ficlet requests #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop ghost #rain ghoul #rain ghost #ghost #ghost band #ghost bc #raindrop #dewdrop/rain #fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoul fanfic #ghost band fanfic

73 notes · View notes

duskmother · 10 months

Text

Auraugust 2023

Day 15 : Rainy Day

Svetlana adored the chilled air of a rain shower; the bliss of being surrounded by the nearby aromatic flora once all else had been washed away. A brief respite from the harsh summer sun would be both good for her and the flowers that had been wilting under it.

-> Auraugust Master Tag

#ffxiv #gpose #svetlana #auraugust2023 #auraugust #my ocs #au ra #xaela

67 notes · View notes

cherryrainn · 1 year

Text

the perfect pair {onceler x reader}

.1| 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 |

hello everyone!! this is my first Tumblr post, and it's Onceler related of course.. anyways I've put this same fic on Wattpad so check it out if you want a kinda more detailed version I guess? click here :))

warning; s3lf harm, self-hatred, depression, mental health issues, etc, and A LOT OF ANGST!!

song to play while reading if you'd like that i think matches this chapter

next part

the dark and gloomy day had a somber atmosphere, with heavy storm clouds dominating the sky. the air was filled with a sense of impending rain, and the cold winds cut through the air, chilling everything in their path. this was the perfect setting for you, as you found solace and comfort in days like this, embracing the melancholy and embracing the beauty in the darkness.

stepping out of your house, you braved the elements, determined to face the world despite the emotional weight you carried within. your attire was a reflection of your mood—an off-the-shoulder beige sweater, soft and comforting, wrapped you in its warmth. the bell-bottom jeans added a touch of retro elegance to your ensemble, while the sturdy boots protected your feet from the wet ground.

with an umbrella in hand, you raised it high to shield yourself from the pouring rain. its canopy, a shield against the world, provided a small sanctuary amidst the storm. the raindrops cascaded around you, their gentle patter becoming a soothing symphony against the nearby roof.

as you ventured forward, the wind whipped at your clothes and pushed against your body, mirroring the turbulence within your mind. thoughts swirled and churned, each gust of wind pushing them in different directions. it was overwhelming, the weight of loss and despair pressing heavily on your heart.

the cold drops of rain touched your skin, leaving trails of moisture. the physical sensation of the raindrops mingled with the emotional pain you felt, creating a combination of sensations that made your whole being tremble. the exhaustion that settled deep within your bones.

navigating through the rainy streets, you walked with a steady determination, seeking refuge from the tempest within. the vibrant lights of the city were muted in the gray haze, their glow subdued by the relentless downpour.

finally, you arrived at the coffee shop, a haven of warmth and familiarity. as you pushed open the door, a gust of warmth enveloped you, accompanied by the intoxicating aroma of freshly brewed coffee. the rich scent filled your lungs, instantly awakening your senses and offering a glimmer of respite.

stepping inside, you closed your umbrella, allowing the water droplets to drip onto the mat, their soft patter joining the chorus of rain outside. the cozy atmosphere of the coffee shop embraced you like an old friend, its soft lighting casting a warm glow on your weary soul.

as you made your way towards your favorite table, lost in your thoughts, a sudden jolt disrupted your steps. the impact was forceful, almost knocking you off balance, but with a swift reflex, you managed to catch yourself just in time, preventing an embarrassing tumble onto the floor.

before you had the chance to fully comprehend what had just transpired, your attention shifted to the person you collided with. standing before you was a super tall guy, his height towering above the average crowd, giving him an air of undeniable presence. the surprise and shock were evident on his face, his brows furrowing slightly in response to the unexpected force of the bump.

in his hands, he tightly gripped a cup of steaming hot liquid, teetering precariously in the aftermath of the collision. though he maintained his own balance, the unfortunate consequence of the impact was evident. a small gasp escaped his lips as the steaming liquid spilled onto his arm, causing him to hiss in pain. the cup slipped from his grasp, falling to the ground with a resonating thud, its contents slowly trickling down his sleeve, leaving behind a trail of coffee droplets in its wake. the impact had also disrupted the once-perfect alignment of his fedora, which now sat at a slight angle.

initially, frustration crept into his voice, ready to be unleashed as he began to admonish you for your lack of awareness. "hey, watch where--" he began, his tone edged with annoyance. but as his eyes met yours, a profound transformation swept over him, stealing his words away. his breath hitched in his throat, silenced by the gaze that held him captive.

the anger that had momentarily clouded his features dissolved, replaced by a flicker of curiosity. his initial reproach faded away, and the lines of tension on his forehead softened. a profound silence settled between you, the only sounds audible being the distant hum of conversations and the gentle patter of raindrops on the café's windows.

as the intensity of his gaze bore into your eyes, a warm flush crept up your cheeks, coloring them in a delicate shade of pink. to avoid his penetrating stare, you instinctively shifted your gaze, focusing on a distant point in the room.

the boy, still slightly stunned by the unexpected connection, managed to find his voice amidst the swirling emotions within him. "i'm sorry! are...you okay?" he stammered, his words punctuated by a dryness in his mouth that made it difficult to articulate properly.

"yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you mumbled, your voice tinged with a hint of shyness. as the boy's fingers instinctively clutched at his collar, a subtle attempt to steady his nerves, a gentle laugh escaped his lips, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

intrigued by your presence and drawn to know more, the boy's eyes sparkled with curiosity. he mustered the courage to ask, his voice laced with genuine interest, "do you... come here often?" his question hung in the air, full with anticipation, as he eagerly awaited your response.

"yes, i come here almost every day," you reply, a hint of familiarity in your voice. you gather your belongings, preparing to make your way to the counter to place your order.

"oh wow," he exclaims, his eyes shining with an undeniable intrigue. he seems to have a liking for running into deeper conversations rather than engaging in small talk, and he's eager to learn more about you—your hobbies, interests, and the things that make your heart come alive. with a genuine desire to know you better, he asks, "what's your order?"

you wave your hand dismissively, a playful glimmer in your eyes. "hold on a second," you interject, a slight teasing tone lacing your words. "hello? you haven't even told me your name yet!"

"huh?" he exclaims, a tinge of embarrassment flushing his cheeks with a rosy hue. his expressive eyes widen in the realization that he had overlooked such a simple and basic interaction.

"oh, uh, sorry," he stammers, his voice carrying a mix of apology and self-deprecation. gathering his composure, he manages to offer his name, his words carrying a touch of vulnerability. "my name's onceler!" with a sheepish smile, he extends his hand toward you, an invitation for a handshake. you take his hand, his fingers are warm and soft,

"cool, i'm y/n," you introduce yourself, a warm smile gracing your lips as you shake onceler's hand, appreciating the genuine curiosity that emanates from his eyes. with a newfound desire to get to know him better, you lead the way back to your table, creating a comfortable space for conversation.

"so, what're you into, onceler?" you ask, genuinely interested in unraveling the layers of his personality. as you settle into your seats, the ambiance of the coffee shop providing a cozy backdrop, onceler's eyes light up with an infectious enthusiasm. "i don't know, what do you like?" he responds, eager to explore your interests and passions.

you take a moment to ponder, considering the things that bring you joy and fulfillment. you start sharing with him, a hint of excitement lacing your voice while you talk about the things you love. "sounds cool, doesn't it?"

onceler's face brightens with admiration, captivated by the notion of your adventurous spirit and the wealth of stories that accompany your travels. "of course it does!" he exclaims, his genuine enthusiasm shining through. "sounds like you have a lot of interesting stories to tell! have you been anywhere interesting recently?"

as you delve into the details of your latest journey, onceler listens intently, engrossed in the tapestry of your experiences. he leans forward, absorbing every word with fascination, eager to vicariously explore the places he has yet to see.

the hours slipped away unnoticed as you and onceler kept on talking, diving into the depths of your lives, interests, and dreams. time seemed to take on a life of its own, weaving through the minutes and hours in a blur. the world outside the coffee shop faded into the background, leaving just the two of you engrossed in this shared moment of connection.

glancing at your watch, you let out a sigh tinged with a hint of disappointment. the realization dawns upon you that time had slipped away, and you had forgotten to get your much-anticipated cup of coffee. with a pang of reluctance, you turn to onceler, feeling a pang of guilt for cutting the conversation short.

"hey, onceler," you begin, "i should go home now.. it's.. getting dark and the rain hasn't stopped yet. i'm just gonna get some coffee and head home, okay?" onceler frowns but nods, understanding.

"alright," he responds, "walk home safely. but hey, how about we hang out tomorrow? can i get your number? i'll call you and give you directions to my place." he offers with another sheepish grin, his genuine interest in spending more time with you evident.

you look at him, a mix of confusion and amusement playing on your features. "directions? just tell me your address, it's that simple," you offer, expecting a straightforward response. however, onceler's response catches you off guard. "well... i don't really have an address," he admits sheepishly, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

raising an eyebrow, you wait for him to elaborate, your curiosity piqued. "what?" you inquire, unable to hide your bemusement. a slightly awkward laugh escapes him, and you can't help but shake your head in good-natured disbelief. you exchange phone numbers instead, the act serving as a promise of future connection.

with your coffee cup securely in hand and your umbrella providing shelter from the relentless rain, you bid onceler a warm farewell and step out of the cafe. the soft smile that graces your lips is mirrored by the gentle patter of raindrops on the pavement. today hadn't been all that bad, but.. once you stepped inside your home, you swiftly closed the door and leaned against it for support. the tremors that had taken hold of your body couldn't be suppressed, causing shivers to ripple through you. the relentless rumble of the storm outside persisted in a predictable rhythm, occasionally interrupting the quietness within.

droplets of water from your umbrella dripped onto the floor, forming a small puddle that added to the sad atmosphere. the chill in the air permeated your clothes, intensifying the shivers that persisted even as you settled on the floor. your apartment greeted you with darkness and a noticeable chill, devoid of any comforting presence. the emptiness seemed to fill the room, reminding you of your solitude.

sitting there, you couldn't help but feel the shivering persist, even as you remained seated. the sensation of being watched loomed over you, despite the absence of anyone else. it was an unsettling feeling, one that your body couldn't shake off.

in the quietness of your home, the sound of your breath mingled with the distant rumbling of the storm. occasionally, a gust of wind would make the windows rattle, further heightening your unease. the absence of light cast shadows that danced along the walls, whispering secrets that only added to the eerie ambiance.

you sat there for a while, embracing the silence that enveloped you, grappling with the emotions that surged within.

with a weary exhale, you released the weight of your dark thoughts, longing for respite. your steps led you to the modest yet comfortable living room, a space perfectly suited for your solitary existence. the encroaching darkness momentarily heightened your sense of unease, causing a shiver to cascade down your spine. but you swiftly dispelled the darkness by illuminating the room, and switching on all available lights. the relief of seeing the power still intact washed over you, providing a small glimmer of comfort.

setting your coffee down on the nearest surface, you collapsed onto the couch, allowing your legs to stretch out before you. your gaze fixated blankly upon the wall, your heavy eyes bearing the weight of sleepless nights. weary and exhausted, you yearned for a moment of tranquility amidst the chaos that plagued your mind.

as you made way towards the refrigerator, a sigh of relaxation escaped your lips, offering a fleeting sense of calm. you reached for a refreshing beverage and a bag of chips. settling into the plush embrace of your warm couch, you switched on the television, hoping for a distraction from your depressing thoughts. however, you soon discovered that there was nothing good playing on the screen.

nibbling on the crispy chips, your attention wandered aimlessly, detached from the images flashing before you. there was a knot twisting in your stomach. you were aware that, in time, this torment would become the new normal, but for now, it gnawed at your being, inflicting a searing pain that seemed unbearable.

each passing day brought forth an increasing struggle to maintain focus on the aspects of life that held significance for you. with a shake of your head, you attempted to drown out the anxiety, filling your mouth with a handful of chips as if to silence the nasty within. "gosh, you're such a moron. quit complaining," you scolded yourself, caught in the tug-of-war between two opposing voices within.

a yawn escaped your lips, revealing the weariness that had settled deep within. without bothering to switch off the lights, you ambled towards your bedroom, the sanctuary that promised respite from the turmoil of the day. with a gentle thud, you plopped onto your bed, the softness offering momentary relief from the burdens that had weighed you down.

as you settled into the comfort of your bed, you reached into your pocket and retrieved the slip of paper that held onceler's phone number. uncertainty lingered in your mind, unsure whether you should take the leap and dial his number. the thought of engaging in conversation felt like an impossible task in your current state of tiredness. rationalizing your decision, you decided to postpone the call, thinking about doing it tomorrow instead.

laying on your bed, the room dimly lit by the faint glow of the hallway, you allowed the weariness to wash over you. thoughts of the day slowly dissolved, replaced by a quiet stillness as you succumbed to the embrace of slumber. tomorrow would bring a fresh opportunity, a chance to engage with Onceler and discover the potential for connection and solace that awaited. For now, sleep beckoned, promising a temporary reprieve from the trials of the world.

you take your socks off and throw them across the room, thinking that they might land on the floor somewhere, but you don't really care. you put away the paper and fall asleep within seconds.

#onceler #the onceler #greedler #the greedler #the lorax #reader insert #x reader #onceler x reader #greedler x reader #angst #fluff #mental health #tw s3lf harm #menta health issues #romance #reader x character #y/n #once-ler

153 notes · View notes

neutron-stars-collision · 1 year

Text

Waiting for the Night

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Chapter 17 - While most of me is still intact

Masterlist; Chapter 16 Summary: The aftermath of the flood. Warnings: Swearing, canon-typical violence (only a mention), angst™️. Author's Notes: I am back 🙈 Still writing, still here, only it's slow and for that I'm sorry. If that's any consolation, this chapter is long. 8k long. It's fluffy too, because it seems my idiots needed some respite before the ultimate conclusion... I'm still not sure how many more chapters till the end, since this one was supposed to be longer. But I'm definitely going to finish the series. Until then, thank you for sticking around and let me know what you think? 💕 Tag list: @thecraziestcrayon, @kookiewastolen, @imimsy, @tuskens-mando, @sugarcoated-lame, @blue-aconite, @hypnoash, @rabbitdictionary, @nicklet94, @mcrmarvelloki, @shimmeringgrim, @ttae-yong, @freyadruid, @siriuslydestiny, @ms-dont-care, @raphaelaisabella, @itsmytimetoodream, @brightjimini, @castellandiangelo (let me know if you wanted to be removed/added).

Once upon a time, an image had been planted in your mind, the biblical allegory for a hopeful intervention. The Red Sea parted precisely when safe passage was needed. Something you never once dreamt of seeing with your own cynical eyes. Until the election night in rainy Gotham. Until the metal railing was biting into your hand, the cold seeping into your bones. The fear was so familiar you could no longer tell it apart from anything else.

Until the dark and murky waters below had been lit with a single red flare, the unmistakable shadow of Vengeance wading through the sea toward the stage. He was alright. Your hand relaxed on the railing as a collective gasp rushed through your small party. Your gaze inadvertently found Selina, taking in the worry on her face, the palpable terror you could feel coursing through your veins, too. When she turned to look at you, you quickly dropped your eyes back onto the scene underneath.

Bruce made it to the stage and began extracting those trapped underneath from within the mess of steel and debris. In the background, you could hear Gordon calling in for backup and choppers, and medical staff for the wounded. The bustle of the police forces intensified, and you knew it was just a matter of seconds till you would be addressed. Till the reality would have to catch up with what had unfolded.

It seemed like you were not the only one with the realization. A muffled shout behind made you turn to find the source, finding Gordon leaning over the railing on the other side of the bridge. You quickly crossed the space to join him, watching as Selina leapt down the ladders and constructions. Her body filled with feline grace you could barely fathom.

“You’re going to do that too?” the gruff voice cut through your consciousness, turning to see Gordon staring at you pointedly.

Despite the weariness and exhaustion, you could not help but crack a wry smile:

“Nah, I don’t fancy dying tonight,” and, then, just as an afterthought you could not hold back, you added, “I’m not that good,”

You really weren’t. It was nearly impossible to ignore the running thoughts, the questions piling in your head, begging to be answered. Like: what if you never showed up on the bridge? What if Bruce never saw you? And what did Selina have to do with all of it?

You did not dare hope it was the last you would ever hear or see of her. The universe was never quite that kind. Or generous.

“Well, I’m glad because I want to talk to you sometime. Once it all quietens a little,” not allowing your brain to go on a tangent, the cop’s conversational tone was once again the one to bring you back to the present.

“What like a witness statement?” you eyed him suspiciously, never the one to eagerly enter the police station and confess your thoughts at the white desk of shame.

But there was no cunning to be found in his face as Gordon nodded:

“You can call it that” as if reading your thoughts, he cracked a wry grin of his own “Don’t worry, you’re not a suspect,”

Perhaps Bruce was right, and he was one of the decent ones. A lone bastion of decency in the GCPD ranks, if you will.

“I should hope not,” you levelled him with one final hard look, hoping to show that you would not be easily intimidated, police forces or not.

One alliance, pulling you right into the centre of this mess was quite enough. And you could not even pretend you were willing to let go of Bruce. It simply was not happening.

Before you could contemplate the logistics of getting back home with the streets flooded, Gordon broke the silence again:

“For now, wait here. I’ll send someone with you to get your head checked out and to get you home safely” only once reminded of it, you felt the throbbing pain pulsing through your skull.

“Police escort, huh?” rolling your eyes, you allowed the uncertainty to speak, “Am I that important?”

The question was not aimed at Gordon. But he was there, and the only person you wanted to ask was… unavailable.

Judging by the expression on his face, you were very transparent on the matter. James threw one look at the stage below and turned away with a simple statement:

“It seems like to him, you are,”

He left you with the words resonating in your head, unaware of the consequences. Unaware of the fact that the statement would haunt you for hours to come. Until you could look into Bruce’s eyes and ask him too.

***

Hours passed since leaving the Garden until you could finally step through the doors leading into the Wayne Tower. Sometime between the fifteen minutes spent at the back of an ambulance (no head trauma, sweetie, but take it slow for a couple of days) and the police car, you decided not to go home. Directing the cops to a random street near the tower, you lied through your teeth, pretending this was home and they could leave you alone. Luckily, they were eager to comply. The excuse you had prepared in the quiet of your mind was that you were safer there. And conveniently more likely to find Bruce once he made it back.

The list of things that needed attending was getting longer as you crept through the familiar foyer and into the creaking lift. You had to call the hospital and inquire after Alfred, the worry gnawing at your heart relentlessly. You were hoping you would stumble upon Dory, too, wanting to let her know Bruce was relatively unharmed. Some dry clothes would have been nice, as well.

Some of those prayers had been answered, for as soon as you stepped into the study, you noticed the warm lamp glow by the bookshelves. One of the armchairs was occupied. As you crept closer, you could easily discern Dory curled up in the chair, her head propped on the backrest, eyes closed. She was dozing. A soft smile spread over your face as you closed the distance and whispered:

“Hey, it’s me” even with all the softness you could procure, Dory sat up startled.

You watched as her wide gaze slowly gave way to recognition and relief. A tentative smile inched its way across your face as she stood up from the armchair and gathered you into a tight hug:

“I’m so happy to see you, darling. I wanted to call someone, but I didn’t have your number, and master Wayne wasn’t picking up. I was so worried” Dory’s voice was smothered by the embrace, yet you heard it well enough to feel the tears gather in your eyes.

Blinking them away, you gave the older woman a final squeeze and stepped back. It was nearly impossible to ignore the uptick of fondness and the part of your brain that already forgot what it was like to be cared for. What it felt like to be important to someone.

“I know. I’m sorry it took me so long” swallowing down the emotions, you sank into the nearest armchair and allowed yourself to relax.

For the first time in hours. Only now, you could feel just how much everything hurt.

The subtle wince did not escape Dory’s worried eyes as she scanned you intently before settling on a question:

“Are you alright?” she added another as you opened your mouth to speak, “Were you there when…?”

She need not finish it.

“Yes, I had a front-row seat to the whole ordeal… I’m fine, though” shrugging halfheartedly, you chose to ignore the aching body and the tarnished confidence; instead, you aimed for another reassuring smile as you added, “Bruce is alright too, he um… helped people there. I’ll wait for him tonight” noticing the dark circles underneath her eyes, you made sure to soften your voice “You can get some rest; I’ve got it all covered,”

It took one long look between you for Dory to agree. She stood up slowly, gathering her bearings and casting one final glance around the space. And then back at you. Eyes filled with fondness you could barely process without bursting into tears.

“Thank you” as if pulled by an invisible string, you got up and allowed her to take your hand between her palms and squeeze it tightly, “He’s lucky to have you,” the sentiment was uttered with enough sincerity to make your heart ache.

A protest was ready to be launched, but you tried to push it down, unable to look away from Dory. From the look in her eyes begging you to accept it as a fact. You closed your eyes to gather your thoughts, knowing it was futile anyway.

“I’m not sure he agrees, but… I’ve always been hard to get rid of” shrugging helplessly, you opened them again only to turn away with a wry smile.

You could not stand it anymore. The housekeeper must have taken the hint, for she gathered the rest of her things and left the room without another word. For once, the loneliness did not hurt too bad.

***

After that, you moved like a ghost through the tower. Careful not to dwell on your actions, you slipped into Bruce’s bedroom to find spare, dry clothes. The set he gave you days before was still there, carefully laid on the chair as if he did not want to put it in the washing yet. That, too, was a thought best left in the dark. Hoping he would not mind, you put them on and dared yourself not to linger as everything there reminded you of his presence and of the safety you were not sure you deserved in the slightest. But it did not matter. You promised Dory to wait upon him, and so were going to do just that.

Calling the hospital was a much easier feat to achieve. It did help to discover that the last time Bruce was visiting Alfred, he had put down your name as someone trusted, and hence it took no effort on your side to get information. What mattered was that he was safe. It took the invisible weight off your chest as you collapsed into a chair in the kitchen and rested your forehead on the cold marble.

It took a great deal of self-persuasion to make a sandwich your stomach badly needed and to convince yourself you should wait downstairs in Bruce’s underground station. That way, you would know exactly when he arrived and could see him right away. And there was no telling when that would happen. Eschewing the importance of clocks and watches, you took a blanket from the sofa in the study and got in the lift to take you down.

The shiver shook your body as the chill of the underground station hit you in the face. Careful not to pay much attention to the late hour or the temptation of everything scattered around the place, you curled up in one of the chairs and burrowed in the blanket. Before long, you were sound asleep.

Waking up was no less jarring. One moment, you were dead to the world, lost in the nonsensical dreams that offered no comfort, and the next, an engine roar made you jerk awake with a start. When your senses adjusted to reality, Bruce was in front of you, the vehicle door closing behind him. He was still wearing full armour, standing motionless as if arrested by your gaze. Just as you were rendered frozen by his.

He was the first to make a move, raising his arms with a quiet groan to take off the cowl. The motion mussed his dark hair, making it fall in disarray over his forehead. Over the attentive eyes, now encircled with smudged black eyeshadow. Your heart stuttered in your chest. A traitorous blush spread over your cheeks as you fought to keep looking him in the eyes, hoping Bruce would not notice the internal crisis.

A flash of surprise followed by recognition and a faint smirk twisting his lips blew those hopes with the wind of your embarrassment. But you did not have enough time to dwell on it. Your legs finally became unstuck as you started closing the gap, exactly when Bruce came to the same conclusion. You met in the middle, bodies colliding almost chaotically, except for the needs controlling every movement. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your own hands came to rest on his shoulders. Eyes met for a split second to fulfil the soul’s desire before Bruce delved in for a kiss.

You gasped, pressing against him, instantly opening your mouth underneath his prodding tongue, giving in to the longing sizzling in your veins. It was easy to slide your tongue alongside his, to let your teeth nibble on his lower lip, revelling in the groan he let out. To press your hand to his cheek, pouring the feelings into the kiss, hoping the message would get through. That you missed him. That you loved him, against all hope and reason. That all you wanted was for this to last. Somehow.

Perhaps it did get through. Perhaps Bruce understood if the way he kept chasing after your lips was anything to go by. Kissing you with all his might, devouring your mouth like a dying man. Like there was no hope left. Nothing but this. But you.

You only broke the kiss when you could hardly breathe, taking half a step back but keeping your hand caressing his cheek lightly. Bruce whined quietly, his hold reluctantly easing to let you go. When your eyes met again, it was impossible not to exhale sharply, shocked to the core by the depth of yearning in his gaze. Mirroring your move, Bruce cupped your face with careful fingers, wincing as soon as he felt the cold skin:

“God, you’re freezing” the slight rasp in his voice was another reason for the stumble in your heartbeat.

Leaning into his palm, you cracked a wry smile and shrugged:

“Yeah, well… You forgot to turn the heating on” your grin widened upon seeing Bruce's faint smile, yet you chose not to dwell on it, “Sorry, I fell asleep” feeling the awkwardness slipping in, you took another half-a step back.

But Bruce did not let you. The arm he kept around your waist stayed right where it was, making it impossible to move further away. You could only stare back as his eyes worriedly scanned your face, looking for any signs of pain. When he found nothing apparent, Bruce gently cupped the back of your head and asked:

“Are you alright? Is-” you could barely tolerate the concern you saw in his eyes, so you stopped him before another word could get out.

Before you got used to being treated like you mattered to someone.

“I’m fine. Got checked up, no head trauma, so as good as it gets” another shrug, taking over the inability to deal with everything you were feeling; you scanned his face with a scrutinous glare before settling on a simple statement, “You, on the other hand, look terrible” proving the point, you dragged your hand through his knotted hair, unable to fight off the fond smile.

The offence you had been awaiting never came. Instead, Bruce mirrored your uncertain smile and sighed, evidently letting go of the invisible weight perched upon his shoulders. His body sagged just a fraction as he finally let go of you and replied:

“I feel like it too” as if not knowing what to do with himself, his gaze ventured over the equipment in the station with palpable restless energy, “I wanted to check up on Alfred, but-”

It felt good to be able to offer him some solutions. You cut right into his sentence, briefly summarizing the discoveries:

“No need, I already called them. He’s safe. Their ICU is on higher floors, so they managed to keep the water under control. They’ll let us know when it’s alright to visit him” running out of steam, you remembered one last crucial bit of information; all the while ignoring how it felt to have Bruce’s eyes fixed on your face with intent, “Caught up with Dory, too, and told her to go to bed,”

You could never have foreseen the reaction to your recap. Before you could do as much as blink and find a new way of filling the silence, a blanket was draped over your shoulders. You whirled around with a gasp, meeting Bruce’s soft stare with wide eyes of your own. He only nodded, answering your unasked question.

“Thank you. I really mean it” seeing the gratitude in his eyes, you could only offer him another tight-lipped smile before turning away to conceal the blush spreading over your cheeks.

You wrapped yourself tighter in the blanket and shot back the remaining two revelations you felt Bruce should know. Those were harder to say out loud without hesitation.

“Um… Gordon wants me to visit him in a few days, so… yeah,” taking his silence as all the encouragement you would get, you added; voice wavering pathetically, “And Selina got away, unfortunately… Sorry about that”

Any idiot would have been able to detect the glaring lack of compassion in the sentence. Not for her, anyway. And Bruce Wayne was many things, but definitely not an idiot.

As if seeing right through the bullshit in your head, he laid a careful hand on your shoulder and forced you to face him. The haunting blue eyes stared into the depths of your soul as his fingers inched higher, caressing your neck in tentative strokes. Unable to maintain eye contact, you squeezed your eyes shut just in time to hear the murmur:

“I don’t care” the sheer conviction in his voice was almost enough to make you believe him.

Almost. Gathering the remains of courage, you chose to face Bruce again:

“She saved your ass up there. You don’t have to pretend it’s nothing” you could tell that bitterness was seeping through each word, the resignation forcing you to stop the rouse, even if just for the moment, “Not for my sake, anyway,”

The flash of annoyance in Bruce’s eyes was almost enough to keep you there. He sighed with frustration before surprising you for the umpteenth time within the past quarter of an hour. Tipping your chin so you could not escape his gaze, Bruce closed the gap to lay a gentle kiss on your parted lips. He leaned back before you could think of chasing after him. The steel-like resolve is still there, written in his blue eyes and the clench of his sharp jaw. As if he was done with your nonsense and yet unwilling to let you go. It was another thing to get you hooked on, so you could never dream of getting over him. As if.

“I’m not pretending. The only person I wanted to see after it all was you” the sincere statement is the one to cut through your internal monologues.

The force of it was enough to rejuvenate the blush on your face and to bring back the stutter in your voice. You stepped back out of his grasp and dropped your gaze to the floor. How did he dare?

“… okay, I… We should go to sleep I think” how eloquent, goddamn it, “You must be exhausted,” it was as good an excuse as you could ever find.

You knew Bruce saw right through it. His eyes flickered over your face with something unidentifiable, but it was clear he had given up. Instead, he found something else to fret over. It became apparent the moment he looked at you helplessly, hands gesturing at the armour with something close to shyness:

“Could you… could you help me get out of this?” his blush had synced up with yours.

One glance at all the different straps and fastenings holding together the upper part of his suit was enough to make you understand. You only nodded, already dropping the blanket on the chair and approaching him with a blank expression. Wordlessly asking for pointers.

The next fifteen minutes had been spent on the painstakingly slow process of disassembling the armour. Quiet was only disrupted by Bruce’s directions, patiently narrating the process so that you knew what you were doing. It was almost pleasant to be this close to him without any pressure of time or case needed solving. Feeling the trust and knowing that this experience was not one many have lived. Perhaps only Alfred had done it before for him. Albeit selfish, the thought gave you comfort. And the courage to think about what came after. About what you wanted (and needed) to offer.

Placing the breast plating on the rack Bruce showed you, you hesitated, eyes slipping over his torso, still hidden by a black shirt. You knew you had been caught once you noticed him stare at you back, head cocked to the side in silent question. There was no point stalling anymore.

“I can stay with you… in your room, if you’d like that” as soon as the words left your mouth, you winced, internally berating yourself for every one of them, “Just to sleep, of course. I don’t… I know you wouldn’t-” the ramblings were cut off with a simple whisper carrying your name.

Making you glance back up at Bruce, at his smile and kind eyes that showed no malice. None of the feared sneer either.

“I’d like it very much” a relieved sigh was inescapable.

As was the flustered smile and maddeningly fast pulse pounding in your ears. It was part of the deal, unfortunately.

You were the first one to break the sickly-sweet exchange of giddy smiles. For the first time in a while, that hopeful spark in your chest was not unwelcome. You allowed yourself to feel it burn as you grinned at Bruce:

“Good. Me too” your lips twisted into a smirk, one Bruce was so familiar with, as you dropped your voice to a faux seductive timbre, “As far as I recall, you’re quite a comfy pillow, hun,”

The delighted laughter you got in return for the nickname was worth the faint headache. And the battered heart.

***

The awkwardness crept back in before you could get in bed and get lost in the dream world. Sometime between getting into Bruce’s bedroom, closing the door, and settling in for the night, everything became harder to ignore. Like the extent of the bruises underneath his shirt, the sheer uncertainty that lays after the flood and the closeness between you that was still terrifying. Having convinced Bruce to let you rub the ointments into the worst of bruising, you settled in between the pillows while he disappeared into the bathroom to get changed. It gave you time to manage the inexplicable spike of anxiety that began to get out of control. Because it was the first time you were going to sleep next to Bruce without any other reason. Because you both wanted to be close to each other. And it was utterly frightening.

The crisis hardly got smothered when Bruce emerged from the ensuite and joined you under the covers. The familiar shy smile graced his features, making it so easy to mirror his position and turn onto your side to face him. You did not have to look for words to fill in the silence:

“Come closer” Bruce extended a hand toward you, fingers trailing over the length of your forearm.

What had been a respectable space between you suddenly felt like nothing. And Bruce wanted you closer than that. Cursing quietly, you levelled him with as a serious look as you could manage, all things considered:

“You sure?” the act was easy to see through.

You wanted to close that gap, perhaps more than anything. But Bruce’s bravery was still something new, something you were not used to. It was best to check lest you could fuck it all up somehow.

“Very, very sure” as if reading your mind, Bruce gave you a reassuring smile, his arm winding around your waist as you gave in to the pull and closed the distance.

Without a word, you laid your head on his pillow and pressed the length of your legs against his. Placing your arm around his middle, you felt instantly enveloped in an embrace that would keep you safe. As did the look in his eyes, trusting and open. The chatter of your thoughts at once grew quiet.

“You know, for a minute there, I was scared I’d never be able to do this again… It was terrifying” laying this close to each other, you could feel each word Bruce spoke with a warm rush of air over your mouth.

Nearly distracting you from the meaning of his words. And what they revealed. Once it sunk in, you closed your eyes and allowed the honesty to speak.

“Will you tell me what… what happened there?” hoping the inflexion would do the work without you having to put it into words, the anxiety raging in your brain made you add, “You don’t have to, is just that… I’d love to get that gap filled in with something other than assumptions” Bruce squeezed your arm in reassurance, confirming he understood.

That he was willing to elaborate on what was, without a doubt, a vulnerable moment. You still were not ready to open your eyes.

“I saw one of them take you out with a blow to the head, and I… Guess I just fucking lost it” the bitter tone with which he threw out the curse felt like a punch to the gut.

It was why your eyes flew open, and the words rushed out.

“But you could barely move, I-” Bruce never let you finish.

“I used an adrenaline shot. Always got a couple in the utility belt” although his voice was rid of emotions, you could see the urgency in his eyes.

As if Bruce was begging you to understand what he meant by it all. You understood enough. Even if you could not bear to think about it without risking your sanity.

“I never heard you swear before” it was why you chose to deflect, holding onto the least important of facts.

Bruce’s eyes widened at the question, and his mouth fell agape in what would be a comical expression if the circumstances were any different.

“Really? Is that the takeaway?” there was a flash of that previous annoyance in his eyes.

Yet still, Bruce tightened the hold over your body, pulling you a fraction closer to the heat of his frame. Close enough that you could melt into him, admitting to the reasons for your foolishness. The why of all the omissions:

“Yeah, because I don’t want to deal with the rest of what you told me” you met his searching gaze, hoping your eyes could show the words that got stuck in your throat.

You pressed your palm to his shoulder blade, feeling the warmth of his skin through the shirt fabric. After a beat, Bruce mirrored the gesture, his soft hum getting lost in the space between you. The silence stretched for a short while, enough so you could feel your heartbeat settle, falling for the chance of peace. Yet it did not surprise you when Bruce spoke:

“I’d do it again if I had to” his voice was still soft, treading that familiar territory between a sleepy confession and a nonchalant observation.

You knew it was not really the second one. Tightening the hold over his body, you moved a fraction closer to brush your nose against his and whispered the reply:

“Let’s hope you’ll never have to” there was nothing else to add.

Nothing else you could say without showing how much his admission meant. It was almost incomprehensible to think someone could willingly risk it all for your sake. Without reason or obligation. It made it dangerously easy to believe you were worth something.

For a while, neither of you spoke, seemingly content to drift off to sleep entangled like that. Although his eyes were half-closed, you could see Bruce glance at you every few minutes. It was impossible to say what he was thinking. Once you could feel the sleep pulling you under, you risked asking what was on your mind:

“Will you still be here when I wake up?” even to your ears, your voice sounded embarrassingly insecure.

There was no guarantee he would be there. No certainty that whatever had happened over the night would prevail the next day. You were not sure you could cope with it if the morning changed how things were. It was doubtful.

From the briefest of winces passing through Bruce’s face, you knew you had hit the jackpot. Your hand trailed down his arm to thread your fingers together. Waiting to be disappointed.

“I don’t know. The city needs me, now more than ever” the excuse was weak, and Bruce knew it.

As if trying to recompensate, he squeezed your hand but averted the furrowed look you immediately sent his way. You did not feel like giving in to what was utter bullshit.

“Yeah, but you need to rest” when Bruce still did not meet your gaze, you added, tone firmer this time, “Gotham is still going to be there tomorrow. And I hope you know you can’t help everybody. You can’t save them all” it must have struck the chord for he raised his head, the boundless blue of his eyes troubled “Some are beyond helping” it was hard to say what made you finish the speech on a vulnerable admission “Like me,”

One that made Bruce’s face twist into a look of pure dread. He disentangled his hand from yours to cup your cheek, the tenderness tearing your heart apart as you stared back.

“You’re not-” deciding you did not want to hear it, you used an empty hand to shut him up.

Your fingers traced the outline of his mouth once he fell quiet. His lips were an easier point of focus than the eyes seeing into the depths of your soul.

“Bruce, please. Not tonight,” the whisper filled the silence, pleading without saying so.

He understood. Nudging your chin upwards so that you were both forced to look at one another, Bruce searched your eyes. That same emotion settled for good in his gaze. The one you could never identify. Though you could sometimes guess…

“Okay… Can I kiss you?” the simple question acted like an instant brain freeze.

You did not have to think hard about the answer.

“Yeah… but only if you’ll stay with me” for once, it did not hurt to be exposed.

For once, it was okay to know he saw you. All the faults and weaknesses. All that you would rather reject than embrace.

“I’ll stay” Bruce sealed the promise with a kiss.

Fragile and gentle, the pressure of his lips was almost tender. It was still easy to sigh into his mouth and lose yourself in the hope that flickered in your heart. The hope that maybe it meant enough to last. This time, you made no moves to devour him, no intent to make a mark. For this one was only a vow. And when it was over, and you could press a final peck to the tip of Bruce’s nose, it was so much easier to lay your head over his chest and close your eyes.

***

It was almost surreal to wake up enveloped in an embrace you had no desire to escape. Slowly opening your eyes, you allowed them to adjust to the morning light peeking through the curtains. The rain was pattering against the window; the sound was acting like a mellow soundtrack. Realising you had moved through the night, you found your back pressed against Bruce’s chest. It felt like being spooned by a heater. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. That much was certain.

For a beat, you were content to simply lay there, feeling the rise and fall of his chest and the muffled snores escaping his throat. It was impossible not to grin, tightening the hold over Bruce’s hand around your waist. The throbbing headache at the back of your skull was almost worth it. Because although it was still terrifying, you could not deny yourself the bliss felt at that moment. Everything else be damned.

Only once you felt him stir you began to move, turning as gently as possible to face Bruce. The sight alone was breathtaking. His dark hair was tousled beyond saving, several strands falling over his eyes. His forehead was clear from the frown lines; the long eyelashes fluttered over the sculpted cheeks. Although his eyes were still closed, you could tell he was not sleeping anymore. Ignoring the warnings alarms in your head, you shifted, so you could see him better and kissed the edge of his jaw. Then laid another peck on his chin, smiling involuntarily upon hearing Bruce gasp shallowly. His arms tightened over your frame as he slightly lowered his head to catch your lips in a chaste kiss. You were more than happy to give it to him.

Only then did Bruce open his eyes, the blue irises catching the light and immediately focusing on you. His lips twisted into a small smile as you noticed:

“I think you needed that sleep” on its own accord, your hand rose to let the fingers trail over his features.

Bruce’s smile widened into a bashful grin. You could feel his hand caress your side, slowly inching closer to the shirt’s hem. You were happy to let him do that too.

“Probably,” acquiescing, Bruce was interrupted by a wide yawn.

Giggling into the pillow, you briefly contemplated what it would take to convince him to stay in bed with you forever. Or at least for the whole day. But then, the reality crashed. Even without being able to see the city outside, the memories came rushing in like the sea water breaking through the walls last night. It was the darkness at the edge of the peaceful morning that made you ask:

“What do you think will happen now?” as soon as the words were out, you could see the frown return to Bruce’s face.

Damn it. The apology was already on your tongue when he replied.

“No clue. But it’s going to be tough. People like the Penguin are going to try to use this mess to their advantage” a tired sigh acted as an interval while Bruce seemed to collect his thoughts; his eyes were trained on the world outside the window, “I should probably do patrols every night, aside from keeping in touch with Gordon” the reluctance in his voice felt like a stab in the fabric of your soul.

With a start, you realised that you would probably do anything to make it go away. To stop whatever was making him hurt. But there was nothing you could do.

“Work is cancelled with everyone urged to stay inside, so if you’ll have anything to work on, count me in” feigning nonchalance and failing miserably, you waited with bated breath for Bruce to look at you again.

To say anything to the thinly veiled plea to let you work with him again. The answer was more important than life itself. Slowly, Bruce turned his head to rest his heavy gaze on you. His mouth stretched into a smile:

“No please?” he grinned, taking the weight off your shoulders and making you giggle breathlessly.

“Nah, you didn’t earn it” an attempt at schooling your features into a mock seriousness went horribly, yet Bruce still seemed pleased with the quip.

His hand, which was still tracing patterns on your side, slipped underneath the shirt. Now the warmth of his careful touch was acting like an anchor, making it much easier to stay present. When his eyes met yours, it still felt like a jolt to the system.

“I will” Bruce’s voice dropped into a lower timbre, dragging a shiver through your body.

If he noticed, he did not let on. Ignoring the response of your betraying body, you raised an eyebrow, fixating on the conversation you were having. Or on one that lay beneath the words that filled the silence.

“Earn it?” as if following the invisible pull, you allowed your hand to reach out; your palm pressed itself to his chest over the heart.

To feel its rhythmic beat, wanting to memorise it for the future where you never got to touch Bruce like that.

“That too” as though he was reading your mind, Bruce pulled you closer, his words a murmur you wanted to trust.

You wanted to believe whatever changed last night was an indication of how things were now. And how they were going to be. But trusting was not in your blood. You buried your face in the crook of his neck to breathe in the calming scent. Only after a few minutes have passed in the near-blissful quiet, you could begin to seek the courage to voice one last desire. You could only say it when there was no chance of Bruce’s eyes finding yours. So, you took one final deep breath and tried to shoot the shot:

“Will you have some breakfast with me? Before you leave to do whatever?” with every word, you were wincing harder, trying to focus on the movement of his chest underneath your palm.

All because of how much rejection would hurt. Sure, you had already gotten so much more than you ever bargained for. But the longing never ceased anymore, growing more insistent by the hour.

“That’s a question or a request?” Bruce’s question had a cheeky edge, easily throwing you out of your head.

He had no mercy for your desire to hide. Leaning back to catch your chin in his hand, Bruce met your blushed cheeks and half-closed eyes with a confident smirk. An expression you were slowly getting used to, to your surprise. It forced a shy smile to appear, despite your wishes.

“Depends on what’s more likely to work on you” your tongue darted out to wet the suddenly dry lips.

Immediately, you noticed Bruce’s eyes trace the movement, keeping the eyes fixed on your mouth. Way too long for it to be accidental. You knew it wasn’t.

Bruce groaned as if in response to the dance between you and pressed his forehead to yours with a fake pained expression. In response, you could only raise an eyebrow and catch the bottom lip between your teeth. The giddiness in your chest began to spark to life.

“You’re just so…” it only grew brighter when you heard the yearning in his voice.

Bruce seemed speechless; his eyes were fixed on your face with something akin to devotion. As if he had so many words to describe you but none that would fit the bill. None that would express what he wanted to say. You decided to help:

“Annoying?” Bruce shook his head in silent exasperation, so you decided to use it, “Yeah, I know. So?”

His smile was the answer you had been waiting for. Soon, your face was bound to hurt from smiling so much.

“Okay,” Bruce nodded, making your grin shine even brighter.

Caught up in the feelings evoked by this moment, you never saw when he leaned in to catch your lips but felt it when Bruce kissed you. Slowly and thoroughly, responding to the playful back and forth you had been indulging in. You deepened the contact when you felt his tongue swipe over your lips, gasping when Bruce licked into your mouth. The taste of him was already familiar, and the more you had of it, the more you craved it. Following the pull of your heart, you pulled up on your forearm to lean over Bruce, feeling his hand slip to the small of your back. He caressed your skin while his mouth devoured yours, and all you could think of was how much you were willing to sacrifice to never let him go. Somewhere in between another swipe of your tongue curling around his and the playful bite as your teeth sunk into his bottom lip, you had to swallow the three words. The ones that would destroy everything. The ones that kept appearing on the tip of your tongue, following the letters of his name. The ones you traced onto the material of his shirt. I love you.

Not that long later, when you had climbed from the bed, and locked the bathroom door, you whispered them against the wooden frame, choking on the weight of the feelings you should never have had in the first place:

“I love you…”

***

The crisis had passed by the time you sat at the kitchen island and sipped on the coffee while gossiping with Dory. She had hugged you tightly when you entered the room, relieved to find you still in the building. In return, you filled her in on Bruce’s whereabouts and asked for help in preparing the breakfast spread. Once it was ready and you had convinced the older woman to join you for the meal, you settled by the countertop, waiting for Bruce to join you. Somehow, you knew he would. Breaking promises did not seem to be in his nature. At least, you had hoped so.

He proved you right ten minutes later, walking into the kitchen just as you were telling Dory about the police escort from the night before. Your story was interrupted when she laid her eyes on Bruce, let out a surprised noise and instantly dropped the milk carton to gather him into an embrace. A smile planted itself on your face upon the sight, observing with the familiar happiness as Bruce returned the hug and squeezed the housekeeper with fondness permeating every cell of his body. After a moment, you turned away to give them privacy for the hushed conversation and tried to occupy yourself with the toasts, which had just popped from the toaster. The only reprieve from the task came when you felt a gentle touch on your shoulder and turned your head to find Bruce standing right next to you. He smiled and wordlessly asked for the plate, forcing you to marvel at the domesticity of the situation. So different to the other breakfast at the Wayne Tower, only days before. Once you were all seated and picking at the spread, it was that memory which made you ask:

“So… are you going to eat, or do I have to force you again?” you levelled Bruce with a pretended serious look and sneaked a glance towards Dory.

As expected, she was unsuccessfully hiding the laugh behind the coffee mug in her hand. Turning back to Bruce, you found him matching the faux glare with one of his own. His mouth was curled into a smile as he picked up the buttered bread and used it as an accessory to accentuate the response:

“I will. I will. No need to force-feed me the toast” Bruce took a demonstrative bite with no heat in the pointed look in his eyes.

A spark in his gaze told you he remembered well the moment you alluded to.

“Good” signing off the comment with a wink, you reached for the mug again.

You did not get to swallow the sip of the warm beverage.

“Though, admittedly, I did enjoy the last time” Bruce’s response was the sole reason for you choking on the coffee and the coughing fit which followed.

He must have felt responsible, for within seconds, his hand was between your shoulder blades, firmly hitting the space to ease the coughing. The concerned frown on his face was almost enough to help you take a breath again and find the courage to place your hand on his knee underneath the kitchen island. You squeezed it once and measured him with a steady look:

“I see” the company in the room did not matter anymore as you met the blue of his eyes and remarked, “You’re a strange creature, Mr Wayne” the way Bruce reacted to the name never got old, and you could not help but smirk with satisfaction at the pink tint appearing on his cheeks.

He caught his bottom lip between his teeth as if to hold in something he did not want to say out loud. Composed himself and took a toast bite to find a breather. You could only watch him, feeling Dory’s observational gaze rest on both of you with quiet contemplation. Whatever she saw between you surely was not that far off anyway.

At last, Bruce must have found his footing again, for he returned your taxing gaze and muttered a reply:

“Yet you’re still… around” the inflexion on the last word suggested he was surprised by it.

That he never really expected you to stay around for so long. You did wonder whether telling him that it was a surprise to you, too, was a reasonable move. You ignored it, softening the smile on your face and fully aware that the look in your eyes was nothing short of affectionate.

“I never said I don’t like strange creatures” finishing the sentence, you moved your hand up from his knee to the lower thigh, hoping to convey everything your heart felt.

You signed off the sentiment with a cheeky wink, feeling your cheeks burn under Dory’s scrutiny from the other side of the worktop. At that moment, you quickly decided to discard this line of the conversation and include the older woman in your discussion. It was what you did then, sharing with her your recounting of the night before, happy to have Bruce join the story. Afterwards, you both promised her to keep in touch to avoid anxiety-filled nights and confusion.

Still, it was not a surprise that as soon as Dory finished her breakfast, she excused herself from the kitchen, wishing you both a good day. A blush on your face was a permanent fixture by now. For a beat, you and Bruce stayed quiet, sipping the remains of the coffee in companionable silence. Until he cleared his throat and placed the mug on the worktop with a hollow sound. Your eyes darted to Bruce anticipating the unknown. Although there were no reasons to suspect anything bad, you still felt anxious as you watched him intently.

“I’ve been thinking and… I think it would be best if you stayed here for now. Until it all settles a little in the city” Bruce rushed the words out almost breathlessly, staring at the marble surface as he added, “Of course, you can say no, but… I wanted to put it out there, I guess” with each word the conviction in his voice grew weaker until it disappeared completely.

The proposition surprised you, making it difficult to find an answer before Bruce managed to talk himself out of it. You could see him battle himself, so you blurted out the only question that made sense:

“Why?” it was the magical word that made Bruce look up at last.

He met your searching gaze with a simple shrug, the look in his eyes helpless but not in denial anymore. This time he had the answer ready.

“Because I’d feel better knowing you’re somewhere safe,” his voice grew softer as he silently begged you to understand and agree.

The statement broke through the reluctance in your heart and melted the hard shell, as it always did. It was tempting and oh so easy. Another excuse to stay by his side and feed your needs as long as he would allow it.

“And here I was hoping you’ll say you want me in your bed again” you dropped the tone to a private timbre, eager to make Bruce blush again.

It did the job. As soon as he registered your words, his cheeks turned a vivid shade of pink, lips falling agape to sputter words of denial that never came. You were right. Kinda. A triumphant grin planted itself on your face upon the sight, acting as a driving force behind the decision to stand up and drape your arms over Bruce’s body from behind. Your chin came to rest on his shoulder as his hands came to cover yours over his torso. Before he could begin to question himself again, you whispered an agreement into his ear and leaned back an inch to leave a playful bite on his earlobe. It was enough to make Bruce gasp sharply. And to widen your smile, silencing the voice in your head that always reminded you it would not last. For now – it would. And that was enough.

119 notes · View notes