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entitled-fangirl · 7 months ago

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I hope I do.

Barty Crouch Jr. x Potter!reader

Summary: The reader wants Barty to meet her parents. He could not be more worried.

Warnings: cursing. Daddy Crouch issues.

A/N: This was based on an ask!

Masterlist

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"I think you're overthinking this." Y/N stated.

Barty Crouch Jr. had been dating the beloved sister of one James Potter for over a year.

Although she had been placed in Slytherin, nothing had changed in her family dynamic between her parents and brother.

Sirius and Regulus found themselves a little jealous.

Y/N reached out and grabbed Barty's hand from across the Slytherin table of the Great Hall. "Trust me on this."

Barty took a breath. "But I'm no angel, darling."

She leaned back with a small laugh, "They'll like you because I like you."

He nodded, but his mind was far from eased.

…

Regulus sat at the foot of his bed while half-listening to Barty's rant.

"I mean, her friends? Sure. Her brother? Yeah. But her parents? Parents… they're…" he paused his pacing in thought.

"Hard to please?" Regulus finished.

"Yes! Hard to please." He continued his stride back and forth. "The stress of pleasing your own parents is more than enough. But the parents of your future wife?"

Regulus' eyebrows furrowed, "Maybe don't start your introduction by saying she's your future wife."

Barty sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "You're right. You're always right. But, do you get what I'm saying?"

The youngest Black sibling nodded his head, "Especially if they're anything like James. Bloody annoying and brass."

Barty's eyes widened, "I didn't even think of that. Surely they're not horrible if Sirius is over there constantly."

Regulus shrugged, "He's just as thick headed as Potter."

The two laughed as his clever quip.

The laughter settled and the two were left in sudden serious silence.

"It's just," Barty sighed. "I already know I'm not good enough, especially for her. Blimey, she could have anyone in the world, and I was fortunate enough to be chosen. I already see that, Regulus. I can't take her father reminding me."

Regulus quit fiddling with his tie to look up at him, "That's what this is about? You're going in thinking they've already made up their mind about you?"

"It's Fleamont Fucking Potter! How could he not?"

A long sigh left Regulus' mouth as he stood up to get ready for bed. "You look the Dark Lord in the eyes every meeting, and you're scared of the Potters? J…Just talk to your girlfriend. I'm not qualified enough for this shit."

Barty didn't get much sleep that night.

…

"Stop messing with your jacket. You look fine." Y/N reprimanded as she fixed his jacket.

Barty's eyes were wide as saucers and his breath was shallow.

Y/N thought it was kind of cute.

"Is there… is there anything I need to know?" He asked quickly.

"Anything… what?" She asked confused.

"Any weird rules around the house? Any traditions? Anything I could do wrong?"

Y/N's eyes looked at him like he had two heads, "No."

"I mean that seriously, love. Any topics off the table? Does someone have a wonky eye I shouldn't stare at? You have to give me somethi-"

"Barty!" She laughed out. Her hands rested on his chest. "Take a deep breath. My parents will love you, alright?"

Regulus had a point. How could he look at Voldemort and feel nothing, yet two middle aged parents had him running for the hills?

"Are you ready?" She asked.

He nodded as he took a handful of floo powder. "I'm ready."

As he threw the powder down, the two disappeared in flames.

Their bodies appeared in the fireplace of the Potter Manor.

James was seated on the large sectional, and his heads snapped up at the sight. He smiled, "There you are. I was worried you two were too busy snogging to join us."

She took a deep breath and rolled her eyes, "Do you ever mind your own business?"

He shrugged, "No, not really."

"Where's mum and dad?"

He pointed his head over towards the kitchen.

Y/N grabbed Barty's hand and pulled him to the kitchen.

As they rounded the corner, Barty finally saw the faces with traits his beloved girlfriend had inherited.

And wow, was it now obvious to him how well the two Potter siblings resembled their parents.

"Mum. Dad."

The two fully turned and their faces lit up. Euphemia grinned and quickly walked to her, "Oh, hi, sweetheart!"

Barty wasn't used to such excitement when your own kids walks into a room.

Euphemia embraced Y/N tightly before pulling away to look at Barty.

Fleamont had leaned against the counter happily watching the exchange before his eyes too, found the boy.

Y/N turned, "This is Barty. Um… Mr. Crouch's son."

Fleamont's eyebrows raised at the mention of Crouch.

Barty felt like he could puke.

Here it comes.

"Oh. I see. Lovely to meet you, Barty."

Barty was so lost in his own mind that he barely registered the outstretched hand of Fleamont Potter. He blinked and reached out to shake it. "The… The pleasure is mine, sir."

Fleamont let out a small laugh, "Please. Just Fleamont is fine. I hate formalities."

Y/N turned to Barty, "That's where James gets it from, if you couldn't tell."

This actually made Barty let out a small chuckle.

Euphemia found her place next to Fleamont. "Our girl has said so much about you. I feel like we know you already."

That's weird, Barty thought. I don't feel scolded at all, yet.

Perhaps it would happen later.

…

Barty pulled out the chair for Y/N, who let out a small thank you, before he found his place next to her.

Though the table was large, he didn't feel intimidated as he sat there.

It was a nice change.

Fleamont sat at the head with Euphemia at the foot. Barty and Y/N sat together on one side, and James on the other.

Fleamont broke the silence, "Where's Sirius?"

James shrugged, "Washroom, I think."

Y/N's head shot up, "I didn't know Siri was here."

Fleamont grinned, "Oh yeah. You said the boys are coming over later, didn't you?"

James' grin matched his father's, "After supper, yes. We wouldn't miss watching the Quidditch Cup for anything."

Y/N sighed at turned to Barty, "It's just them yelling for four hours. Except poor Remus."

"Hey, Remus is fine." James butted in. "We feed him. He's not mistreated."

Y/N smirked, "Sure. That's what he tells you."

James cocked his head, "Oh really? And what? He tells you things?"

Y/N matched his energy, "Unlike you, he talks about his feelings."

Although there was bickering, no one raised their voice.

In fact, they seemed to be having fun.

Barty was slightly confused.

His eyes flicked back and forth, once moving to their parents.

The two rolled their eyes but held the widest grins on their faces.

They actually… could bicker for fun?

Sirius strutted in, "Sorry, Mum. Didn't mean to be late."

Euphemia smiled, "You're just fine, love."

Barty's eyes widened. Mum? He called her Mum?

His thoughts were interrupted by the continued argument.

"Remus doesn't have feelings!" James rebutted with a knowing grin.

"See? Now you just sound ridiculous!" Y/N laughed.

Sirius found his way in, "Hey! Remus is a ball of steel that lives off of sheer spite. Don't let him fool you!"

Y/N scoffed, "He's the most sensitive of all of yo-"

The two boys began to rebuttal at the same time, causing their voices to overlap.

"No, that's not true"

"Remus is heartless"

"You don't know him like we do"

"He's playing you for a fool"

Barty let out a small cough, and the entire table went quiet.

Sirius finally acknowledged his presence, "And why are you here, exactly?"

It wasn't rude. More, inquisitive.

But Barty took it the wrong way.

His head cocked to the side challengingly, "What am I doing here? What are you doing here? What? Was James allowed to bring his boyfriend, too?"

His eyes grew wide and his mouth closed as soon as the last syllable was uttered, like he didn't know who said that.

He ruined everything.

How could he ever show his face around her family again?

As he began to spiral, Sirius' mouth slowly formed a grin.

And he laughed.

The entire table broke out into a fit of giggles.

Even Euphemia covered her mouth to hold back.

James laughed until he thought he would fall out of his chair.

Fleamont's laugh came out in a boom, much like James'.

And Barty sat there in confusion.

He just couldn't comprehend what was happening.

Sirius wiped the tears that had fallen in his laughter and sighed, "I'll fucking give that one to you, Crouch. Merlin, you're much funnier than I thought."

And cursing was allowed?

There really were rules Y/N should have told him.

…

After dinner, the family was gathered around the muggle TV James had begged them to buy. Of course, it was enchanted to play the quidditch games.

Fleamont and Euphemia had their respective chairs.

All four marauders took up half of the large sectional and Barty and Y/N spread out on the other half.

Well, Y/N had.

Barty was uncomfortably stiff in his seat, but Y/N had taken the liberty to rest her head on his lap, and lay out on the rest of the couch.

And no one had thought twice about it.

Eventually, her legs grew tired and she sat up, "I'm going to fetch a drink. Need anything, Barty?"

He looked away from the TV to her, "No. No, thank you."

She nodded, brushing her hand across his shoulders when she passed by.

She had left him alone with them.

What does he do? What does he say?

He's in the Potter Manor with all four of the marauders and the Potters. By. Him. Self.

He let out a sigh.

"Everything alright, son?" Fleamont asked.

Barty's head snapped to him. Son?

Did he just say Son?

Oh, fuck. He said Son.

He just stared.

James reached over and elbowed him.

Barty snapped out of it. "Hmm?"

"He asked if you are alright, mate?"

"Oh. Oh. I'm just fine. Long day, is all."

Fleamont nodded with an understanding smile and turned back to the TV.

Barty was too lost in his thoughts to hear them cheering at the next goal.

…

Y/N smiled widely as she sat on her bed, "Well, I'd say that went fairly well."

"I don't want to do it anymore."

Her face fell, "What? Do what?"

Barty's mind was racing as he stood barely out of the doorway. "I can't do it."

She tilted her head, "Barty. Talk to me. What?"

His eyes were staring out of the window across her bedroom, "I don't want to be a death eater anymore."

Her eyebrows raised, "Oh." She wasn't sure what to do in that moment. She wouldn't push him. It was his decision, but she was too curious for her own good. "Can I know why?"

"Your father likes me."

She nodded in confusion, "He does."

"That's why."

"You… You don't want to be a death eater because my father likes you?"

He nodded as if it was obvious.

"Okay. Um… a follow up on that?"

Barty broke from his trance to sit on the bed next to her. "My… my father isn't like that. I'm always underachieving in his mind. But… I feel like I couldn't disappoint your father."

She shrugs, "It would be pretty hard to."

Barty's jaw clenches in thought, "If we ended up even close to as happy as your parents, I'd be the luckiest man in the world."

Now it was her turn to be lost in thought. "Really?"

He nodded. "Your parents love each other. And they love you. And James. And even James' friends for some reason. I want that."

She smiled and ran a hand through his hair, "Then we'll have it."

He smiled too and gently kissed her.

She pulled away with a laugh, "Regulus is going to be upset."

He pulled her closer with a grin, "Ah, he'll be fine."

Their lips connected again.

…

"Going so soon?" Fleamont asked.

"Oh, yes. He has to be up early tomorrow, dad." Y/N said with a smile as she walked Barty to the fireplace.

Fleamont nodded and walked to them, "I'm glad you could come over, son. I hope I get to see you around more."

Barty smiled widely, "yes, sir- uh… yeah. I believe you will."

Her father's smiles widened, "Great." And he disappeared into the kitchen.

Y/N had to practically push Barty into the fireplace cause he was so lost in thought. She placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'll see you Thursday?"

He nodded, "Of course."

She grinned and stood on her tiptoes to place a light kiss to his lips. "I'll wait until then."

He smiled, "Goodnight, love."

James' head peered around the corner with a teasing grin and a dramatic tone, "Goodnight, darling. My one true love! I wait in agony until I see your face again-"

He was interrupted by Remus' hand yanking him back into the kitchen.

Y/N let out a sigh. "You'll get used to that one day."

Barty smiled, "I hope I do."

…........................................................

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dollwritesarchive · 2 years ago

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𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 — 𝐡𝐚𝐥 𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧 & 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!wayne!reader, age gap ( reader is 18+ and Hal & Barry are in their 40s ), daddy kink, filming sex acts ( and sharing them without reader’s knowledge ), oral sex ( m!receiving ), facial, slight dumbification, peer pressure, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ this is actually the prelude to my halbarry dp request, i just felt it would be better to split them into two parts. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

“Jesus Christ, Hal, can you at least turn the sound down a little bit?” Barry was staring— crimson-cheeked, sapphire eyes big as saucers, at the video on the screen of Hal’s phone. the sound was turned all the way up, and it seemed like your fervent clucking and Hal’s grunting was bouncing off each wall and coming back to make him dizzy. “Someone’s going to hear it.” he already knew he was watching something he shouldn’t be, and his anxiety was turned up to one thousand: terrified that Batman would appear at the door any moment, and hear the sounds of his daughter’s throat being violated by a team member. Barry would be an accomplice to that, in his mind at least. but he was still staring at the video.

for some reason, he couldn’t look away.

but Hal wasn’t even listening; he hadn’t stopped talking about it. grinning widely, he had his fist clapped on Barry’s shoulder, “— I’m tellin’ ya, that girl loves to suck cock. She was begging me, both hands in my jeans, big puppy dog eyes,”

“Hal…”

“— when I finally gave in and pulled it out, she fuckin’ went crazy for it. Said she’d never sucked anything so big before. You shoulda seen her trying to get the whole thing in her mouth; kept just whining and licking, I had to step in after a minute and shove it in for her. Cute, little thing nearly choked.” Hal sank his teeth into his lower lip, reminiscent of just how happy you looked, as he watched your head bobbing up and down on the recording. your eyes were looking up directly into the camera, pupils blown out with lust, eyelashes wet where the tip of his dick battered the entrance of your throat and teased your gag reflex. “Just look at her, man. She was dripping wet after just sucking me.”

Barry blushed deeper— you did look like you were enjoying it. and, as wrong as it may have been, he was kind of liking watching it.

when Hal’s hand pushed your head down and the entirety of his cock disappeared, you gag but your eyes roll back. he only holds it for a second before he lets go and you bounce back up, sputtering for air. “Look at me, baby girl,” Hal was panting, and when your eyelids fluttered upwards toward the camera, Hal grabs hold of the base of his cock, now shiny with your spit. Barry realized then that Hal must’ve used a construct to hold the phone steady, because one hand was gripping himself, while the other angles your face in the desired position, his fingers dipping into your mouth for only a moment. he slaps the bulbous, pink tip against your cheek hard, and you whimper in sordid delight, a dazed smile on your swollen lips, “‘s Batman your daddy, huh?” closing one eye, you mewl and shake your head. “No?” he teases. “Am I your daddy?” whining with your mouth hanging open, hoping to persuade him to get bored of spanking it against your cheek and lips and slip it back in, you nod.

“Do you have a death wish? Seriously, do you?” Barry asked, incredulous. but, he couldn’t deny, he felt a subtle ping of jealousy towards his friend. “You do realize if Bruce or the Batkids find out about this, you’re toast, right?”

Hal grins wider, his eyes glued to the screen, “Wait, wait, wait! Watch this part, this part is real good.” he clearly didn’t care about the possible repercussions.

“You’re my daddy,” you purr, grasping his cock with both hands. Hal releases a euphoric exhale when you suck on the head, stroking the remaining inches in tandem, “Green Lantern’s my daddy!” your voice was heavily muffled since your mouth was full, but when you looked up at the lens, Barry could see your eyes smiling. they were sparkling, and his breath caught in his throat. you were so happy to be pleasing him.

“Jeez…” he mutters, mostly to himself. he was humiliated to admit that he was hard in his joggers.

“I know, right?” Hal chortles, running his finger against the screen to scrub ahead. he hits the pad of his finger on the play button in the middle of the screen when your face is painted with his cum, dripping down your chin, and he’s holding your hair at the crown of your head.

“Like that, baby girl?” Hal was crooning, rubbing his twitching cock over your parted lips as it spurts what remained of his release; each eruption granting a moan that rumbles deep in his chest, “Like that daddy made you all messy and cute? Does my cum taste good?”

giggling, you nod, your tongue swirling around the tip. you seemed utterly drunk on it; Barry was looking into the pixels of your eyes, examining how glassy they were. he could imagine that you probably couldn’t even remember your own name in that moment. it seemed like the only thing on your mind was Hal’s cock.

lucky bastard.

“Yeah? Can’t even use your words anymore?” a shake of your head and an incomprehensible babble later, Hal guides the tip of his cock back to press against your slack lips, which part with absolutely no resistance, and take him into your mouth again as you gurgle a happy whine. “That’s a good girl,” he purrs, and his hips jut forward to give you every inch again, “if you’re too cockdrunk to talk, we can just put that pretty mouth back to work. Clean me up, baby. Make sure you swallow all the cum you suck off me.”

the video ends there, and Barry doesn’t say anything for several seconds. he just stares at your face as it’s paused— he never expected he would ever see you like that, and he was ashamed to admit that it was sexy as hell. still, you were Bruce’s daughter, and Barry couldn’t believe that, in that moment, he wanted to be Hal. he wanted to be the one in the video, feeding you cock, watching you devour it until your eyes crossed. a plethora of other vulgar possibilities crossed his mind in the short period of time between the end of the video and when Hal spoke again.

like what you must look like with your legs spread open, soft wet pussy clenching and begging to be fucked. he could hear his name in your gentle voice, and he physically rejected a shudder to creep up his spine as he envisioned pushing his cock into you. you must be so tight, he would have to force it.

“You know I can send you the video if you need it for jerk material, right?” Hal teased, digging his elbow into his super friend’s rib cage. effectively pulling Barry out of his sordid thoughts. “After all, I get to play with the real deal any time I want. She said so herself: she wants to be my little stress reliever.”

“You’re absolutely insane.” Barry countered with a bemused shake of his head. “Batman’s gonna find out eventually. He has to. He’s Batman.”

Hal quirks a brow, “Yeah, exactly. He’s Batman, which means he’s a little preoccupied saving the world with us to keep tabs on who his daughter is fucking, don’tcha think, buddy? Relax, I know what I’m doing.” giving Barry’s shoulder a pat, he tilts his head, murmuring thoughtfully, “Besides, you’re the only one that I wanted to show, Bar.”

Barry’s eyes narrows as he looks at his friend, suspiciously now. “Why?”

Hal’s eyes twinkled with mischievous delight, and he juts his chin in reference to his phone. “Because I want you to get in on it.”

“What??”

“C’mon, Barry,” Hal pleaded, shoving his phone into his back pocket, “you’re really gonna try and tell me I didn’t just watch you drool over that video? You don’t want to fuck her with me? Hear her moan and squeal for you like she does for me? It would be so much fun filling her up from both ends, tossing her back and forth. She’d love it, too. The little batbrat likes it rough as hell.”

Barry opened his mouth to protest, but he couldn’t find a lie convincing enough to persuade his friend and himself. so he sighed, and settled with, “So now you’re trying to get us both killed.”

it wasn’t a yes, but it definitely wasn’t a no, and Hal realized this.

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maleyanderecafe · 1 year ago

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Mad Room No.3 (Visual Novel)

Created by: bbboxxx

Genre: Visual Novel

Mad Room No.3 is a Japanese game translated into English with an interesting vibe. I believe that Sasagawa is a sub in this one (it's a little hard to tell with the translations but his actions do seem to suggest that it is). It took me forever to get the endings because the guide itself is hard to decipher but I finally get them so I can take the proper pictures for it.

The story starts out with Louise waking up in a red room with a saucer of milk in front of her. She sees her classmate Sasagawa in front of her. A few days ago Sasagawa made a strange confession, telling her that she looked like a white cat in her Judo outfit before confessing properly. It seemes that Sasagawa kidnapped Louise and has tied her up in his room. He wants Louise to drink out of the saucer like a cat.

There are four endings depending on how much you get to learn about Sasagawa and interact with the room.

The first ending is when Louise drinks out of the saucer, causing her to pass out, with Sasagawa claiming that she is his.

The second ending happens if Louise flips over the milk bowl and looks coldly upon him, causing him to get turned on. Louise also sees the collar on top of her blazer, to which Sasagawa states that it's his and that the two should get a matching pair. Sasagawa will remark that she isn't able to do it properly because of the restraints and takes it off of her so she can drink out of the bowl. Louise splashes the milk onto Sasagawa and restrains his hands with the collar. Sasagawa seems happy about this, stating that collars are meant to be worn around the neck and happily offers to put it around his neck. He accepts being her white cat.

In the third ending, upon flipping over the milk bowl twice. Sasagawa will then carry her to bed and lick(?) the milk off of her face. He states he would be happy to be eaten by Louise and if she runs out of things to eat, she can eat him. Observing the room, we find that the walls are red because it's Louise's favorite color. There are photos on the wall of her that Sasagawa looks at, and he promises to fold her blazer afterwards. On the third attempt, Louise will splash the milk onto his face, getting angry that he keeps calling her a cat and making her drink this milk. Sasagawa apologizes but he seems happy that he's been splashed. Louise gets him to leave, and while he does he seems to be ready to come back at any time.

In the fourth ending, instead of flipping the milk bowl like in the third ending, Louise can instead drink the milk. Doing this will cause Sasagawa to call her cute and asking her to marry him. He confesses his love to her over and over again. Louise agrees to date him before Sasagawa happily agrees and tells her he loves her.

The game itself is mostly translated through machine translation, which is why a lot of things are a bit weird, grammar wise, but it is still a pretty fun and simple game. You can only really interact with a couple of things in the room and either flip over or drink the milk. I've read somewhere that the reason Sasagawa calls Louise a "white cat" is because neko is slang for bottom and since this game is based off Hentai culture, kind of does make sense here. Even though Sasagawa calls her a "white cat", throughout the game she does mention that he is more like a neko than she is, with him licking her face when splashed with milk, admitting that the collar is his, letting her put the collar on him during one of the endings and being happy when she flips the milk bowl onto him. Still given that he's probably more of a switch since he does drug Louise and still calls her a cat. He'd probably be happy regardless of if he were berated by her or if she passed out from drinking the milk-a win win.

Sasagawa as a yandere is mostly inferred through the interactions in the room, namely things like the fact that he colored his room red because Louise's favorite color is red, photos of her that he looks at periodically, the fact that he was gonna get a collar for her to match his, amongst other things. In the fourth ending, Sasagawa declares his love for Louise so much that he wants to marry her. Even the ending where Louise kicks him out (of his own room?) has the name "I'm always ready" implying that he won't let go so easily. It is nice that there's a happy ending for the fourth ending, since it seems like the two of them still date despite the weird first encounter of Sasagawa kidnapping her.

The music, artwork and UI are pretty well made for this game. It definitely adds to the atmosphere in the game of being secluded in this weird but oddly regal room.

Anyways, if you are interested in this strange but charming game, please give it a shot. I think the art and atmosphere are pretty nice and it has a fun premise.

#Mad Room No. 3 #male yandere #yandere #yandere boy #recommendations #completed #visual novel

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 1 year ago

Note

Since its loki we are talking here, can we have loki lusting for his half sister, reader who is the goddess of lust and love. He does magic on her so he could do on her

Courtyard Shenanigans

Damn what a gorgeous evening tonight turned out to be. Its just what the fuck I need after the most grueling day of coming second to Thor in everything. Plus there's nothing more peaceful then enjoying the beauty of Asgard as the day settles out. Dusk makes the orange stained sky unsually gorgeous, infused with dusty pink clouds that cast the prettiest of shadows over the Royal Palace of Valaskjalf. The crisp clear breeze seems fresher than any air I've experienced on any planet.

But trying to enjoy the phenomal view, as I step out into the courtyard, is short lived. Sus muffled grunts sound off from a few feet away, seemingly near the statue my worrysome mother insisted be created in my image. What or who the hell is that moaning in terrible pain?

Crouching low, I creep along the edge of the full shrubbery leading in that direction. I can't help my eyes transforming into saucers as I peek through the multi-colored rose bushes. Utter disbelief smacks me like a speeding freight train at the scene unfolding right before my eyes: my slutty half sister riding the fuck outta one of my guards face.

The lucky bastard is horizontal on the cemented circular bench that surrounds my stone doppelganger. His hand is flying at the speed of light on the pathetic member that sticks out through the guard uniform as you grind your clearly soakin wet pussy on his mouth; transparent rivelts drip from your oozing center down his chin to his neck. I'm not shocked that his lips are so damn red and raw from your treatment but from the way he moans into your core and fucks his fist is a clear indication of satisfaction. Piercing moans of approval get louder before you begin to speak out loud.

"Fuck, riiiiight there! Come on, cause you-ah!- finished allova yourselfself twice but haven't made me cum once. Haaaah, fuuuuu- mmm.. Shame on you soldier, maybe you need a little incentive."

I watch intently as you throw your head back on a moan with closed eyes and roll your neck counterclockwise. I rather soak you in your every move, purposely ignoring the wad of cum pooled around his balls. Your freshly done braids swing widly; cute, jet black nails grip his shoulder tight in your pleasure. The breeze gets stronger for a moment, swirling around the two of you in a glittery sheer sky blue mist before dissipating within seconds. When your lids reopen, eyes matchin the color of the sky, you stare upwards with an open mouth. The man beneath you seems to go insane, licking and sucking at your hungry little cunt like a starved man in the woods.

"Gods yes, so much better. Good boy, jus needed a little push huh? Thats it, aaaaah, lemmeuseyouuuuu!"

Fuck, your skin is radiate, glistens with perspiration from all your hard work. The humping of your hips makes your perfect soft flesh jiggle erratically. How I'd be perfectly happy to die right at this moment without making my way to Valhalla if it meant trading places with that insignificant bug. He has no idea how lucky he is to have the gift of YOU sliding what's gotta to be the the universe's most perfect pussy on his undeserving mouth.

The shocking incredulity surging through me at the scene seems very understandable, the raging boner however makes me pause. It's not the first one the little vixen has caused me but the guilt that comes with lustin after you is gut wrenchin.

Probably doesn't help that you appear to have strict orders to never come near asgardian clothing. Your fuckin itty bitty knitted baby blue top and salmon tinted scrap of cloth wrapped around your waist like a snug skirt damn nearhad me drooling. You are and always will be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

Shouldn't be hard to guess why I'm relentlessly having to secretly grip my dick at the base almost every time I'm in your fuckin presence. I live in a life of hopelessly attempting to not nut in my royal robes because of you.

Damn, it's impossible not to witness how this plays out since I've yearned to be in the place of this unworthy fucker for years.. How I desperately wish it was my mouth you dragged your quivering quim allover like that. I'm entranced at the way you grip his medium length blonde locks and drag across his face even faster as you degrade him.

"Gonnacuuuuum! Oh God, finally! No thanks to youuuu, had to u-use my gifts jus to get the pleasure I yearn. Yeeeeees, stay right there! Ohfuckohfuckohfuuuuuuk!"

My hands flies to grip my clothed dick firmly, this time to aid the nut trying to spray outta me instead of stifling it. It only takes a couple squeezes, along with the image of you leaning forward as the scum sucks your little clit vigorously; the flutter of your vacate gummy walls paralyzing me as my cream sprays 5 abundant globs into my mother's rose bushes. I thank the gods for your booming whine that helps to covers my perverted groan.

Your hips swivel a few more times before you drop her head back down and gracefully slip off his face. Taking a few steps back, you watch my soon to be fired guard gasp for breath; his hazel eyes are unseeing and dazed as fuck. So memorized by her orgasm, I'm estatic to notice I missed the small peckered fucker cum for a third time. It seems my little sister has also noticed, the way narrowed eyes trail to his dick and your cute little nose wrinkles in disgust.

"Leave us." She demands to him curtly before looking right into my soul through the thick bush.

As confused as he seems to be, head ducking left to right quizzically, the guard scrambles away as he hastily tucks his dick away. It would almost be funny if it werent for the sinking feeling in my gut. Nothing else to do except sheathe my still hard cock and reveal myself, I stand awkwardly and watch you fix your clothing to hide your drippy little slit.

"Come, brother." Y/n demands, finger crooked at me.

You step one leg over the bench and sit with it between your smooth chocolate thighs. Back straight with your nose in the air, you sit like a queen where that coward laid just a moment before. I walk over on stiff legs and do the same a few inches away, avoiding eye contact at all costs. The smell of your pussy lingering in the air entices my rock hard dick that taps impatiently underneath my clothing. Your stare on the side of my face almost burns but my guilt keeps me focused on the ground as you speak confidently.

"Why do you spy on me in my most private of moments, Loki? You must know it isn't proper of a brother to watch his sister do such things."

I swallowly visibly before answering.

"I'm- I'm sorry. It was not my intention. I came for air after a long day and heard noises of which I assumed were pain. Well, I thought.." I trail off uncomfortably.

"But you did not leave once you realized." You counter back.

My mouth open and closes as I fumble my response, cheeks feeling like they've been god damn torched.

"Well you- you knew of my presence and still concluded such distasteful acts, out in the open may I add." I shoot back, finally looking into your pretty, dark, almond shaped eyes.

"You didn't seem to mind as you stroked your fat cock to completion while starin in between my legs."

That stumps me as I sit gazing at your beautiful frame, mouth slightly agape. But you only giggle at me as you stand and prepare to exit the courtyard.

"Next time be more inconspicuous; my father wouldn't like to see you do such things. In fact I think mother would be amused even less." She teases me and turns to leave.

A snap of my fingers brings my statue to life. The stone scrapes loudly as it moves and grabs each of your wrists, locking them in place into the air. The way you stand there helpless and shocked does soothe my ego a bit, I can readily admit.

"You blame me as if you weren't gyrating allover that man's face like a common whore. Yes I lust after you, dear sister. But I know you do for me as well. Yet you charade around the castle flamboyantly, refusing to wear our royal attire. Instead insisting on donning tiny earthly garments and then bending in front of me every chance you get. You want me y/n and I'm sick of you pretending you fuckin don't." I say leaning in close, lips just half an inch from your own.

Already a bit agreeable, I sense how much our close proximity affects your state of mind. As tense as your flawless frame is, your gorgeous eyes shut and you lean in to try to kiss me. Before you can I raise my right hand, swiftly drawing a circle in the air with the tip of my finger, watching as glittery emerald green smoke forms a thin circle. I gently blow it into your face and you unknowingly inhale as I press my lips to yours lightly for a few seconds before pulling back. You try to follow, lips pouting as I deny your request.

"Lokiiiii. Kiss meeeeee." You whine, arms pulling at the stone hold on your wrists.

"Hmmm.." I pretend to think dramatically. "Beg me, sweetheart."

Your response is instantaneous.

"Please, big brother, pleeeeease! I want you, no NEED you so bad. Can I have your lips? No wait!Your cock? Pretty please? Promised to always take care of me right? Need you to take care of me now, Lokiiiii."

"Ok, Ok y/n. I'll give you what you want, but only if you answer a question. If you lie, you don't get my cock. Understand?"

"Yeeeees big brother." You slur back at me, lookin a bit dazed from my little homemade concoction.

"How many of my personal guard have you fucked?"

"Just the one you seen me with today. It was awful: he came with a quickness I couldn't have imagined. He's the only man I've ever been with." You answer honestly.

"Glad to hear I needn't murder my entire guard then. Alrighty, honey sit up a bit."

You do as I ask and I slide underneath your restrained body, taking out my leaking dick. I wiggle the shaft back and forth, smacking it against your plump soft brown ass cheeks. Fuck, your moans are like music to my ears and I curse myself inwardly as a feel a tautness in my groin from the way you frantically hump back at me.

"Please Loki, you promised me. One question and I answered. Gimme my dick. I've earned it, have I not big brother?"

That filthy fuckin mouth spurs me to lift you by your hips and rapidly poke my fat cock tip into your snug little hole. (Although he should fear my wrath, I am suddenly semi grateful for the foreplay my guard provided for how fuckin drenched you are now.) It feels so fuckin good.

The way you squeal and tremble has me mandhandling you with a tight grip, keepin you in place as I dig into the tightest pussy I've ever felt. It's so warm, so wet, just the most perfect little slit to ease into. I can't cease the breathless way I repeatedly grunt your name into the air of the courtyard loudly.

The tense sensation bubbling in my balls and pelvis quadruple and its my turn to whimper loudly. It's barbaric the way I fuck into you for the first time, carelessly crying my pleasure into the wind. Your wails are even more unhinged and it's a miracle that nobody has come by to see who's out here groaning like a wounded animal.

"Haaaaaah! OhmygodsLoki! Ohgodsohgods, so very good big brother! Just like my dreeeeams- aaaaahhhfuu-Loki!!!"

You've hit feral and I've only just got in all the way. Our chests heave simultaneously as I reach up to flick your little top out the way, watchin your breast flop out and shake uncontrollably at your attempts to fuck onto my cock. If not for my hold on your hips you'd most definitely would be successful in milking me within seconds. It shouldn't be this hard not to breed you but it's taking all my will power not to creampie my little sisters pussy.

"Y/n s-stop it, lemme-FUCK! Darling, please just lemme handle it. C-can't hold back if you don't keep still. Haaah, ohgods! Please sweetheart!"

The swiveling of your hips is gonna be my demise. All I can do is match your frenzied pace, pulling out only half way before slamming in each time. I know I'm giving my princess what she deserves as continuous praises for me spill over your plump lips.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyoubigbrother! Your cocks the best! I'm yours Loki, only your yours tohavetoholdtofuck! Ohgods! You'resofuckinamazing!"

The whiny dirty words, plus the way your soaking wet pussy puts my spasming dick inna chokehold makes me lose all concentration. The stone statue releases its grip on you and falls back into place as if it never moved and inch.

Your quick to lean forward on my chest, one hand slipping down to rub at your sticky little clit as your hips never miss a beat in their delicious torture. Its almost pathetic when you cum on the first stroke of that throbbing button, except im grateful because there was no way I could hold out for much longer.

"I'mcummingLoki! Yesyesyes, cumming on your cock big brother! Feelssogood! Ah ah ah! Mmm yeeeees Loooki!"

Warmth spreads throughout me as you put your pretty face in my neck and fuck the shit outta me. Fuck the tables have turned, high pitched moans flowing from me as I stare into the sky blankly as you force me to creampie your tiny little cunt. I'm gasping through my groans as I try to breath through this intense fucking orgasm.

"Y/n haaaah oh Gods, y/n! Suchabrat for thiiisss. Gonna make you pay little girl. Ohfuuuuck, big brothers gonna get you back.."

Gush after thick gush pours into you as my arms drop limply to the ground. My hips quiver and I can't control the small humps they give as I fuck my heavy load into you. I don't notice how the last of the sunlight slips behind the castle, dimming the courtyard. It's hard to observe anything other than my cock becoming overstimulated from cumming twice so powerfully within just a few minutes.

"Ah, ah, ah y/n! Waaaaait darling, gimmeasecondplease! 's too fuckin good, haaaah! Please pretty girl, need a moment." I beg unashamed, head thrashing from left to right.

Thankfully your hips circle to a slow halt, but you dont immediately release me as you did the guard. I can admit I am less than pleased at the way you sit up and look down at me sinisterly while I suck in air desperately.

"No fair big brother, you used your powers on me.." You say in-between heaving breaths as I look at you in shock. I had no idea you knew..

Your hypnotizing eyes swirl with that tantalizing sunset color as the shimmering blue mist appears again but this time surrounding the two of us thickly.

"Now I wanna use mine on you."

OH. FUCK.

#loki x reader #loki x black!reader #black reader #black fanfiction #all readers #smut #lick my pussy #pussylicker #pussy eater #public fun #watcher #spying #creamp!e #breeding k1nk #spells #spellcasting #magic

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amidst-wonderland · 7 months ago

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final fantasy: rebirth {a mess of emotions, not in chronological order}

this is more story-based, so heads-up spoilers below.

“question. does that make me a dumbass?”

not aerith asking about reno

chadley nearly outing cissnei and cloud getting real confrontational about it.

cloud is so much more conversational in this, i felt in remake he was bordering on joker level’s of player-character. he’s a lot more laidback, which is understandable since he didn’t really know anyone but tifa and midgar’s only like what a week long?

the game now feels like an ensemble piece rather an a cloud simulator.

cloud not realising he’s the one loner friend

americans aren’t the best swearers - put to much emphasis on the swear itself but cloud does it so well.

he’s a prickly, backchatting bitch in this game and i love every single second of it. he’s not mopey, stubborn and grumpy. he’s ‘i’m going to actively make myself your problem if you cross me, so don’t.’

barret immitating yuffie?! or, “oh, wow. tell us more.” it’s giving abridged.

yuffie’s little naruto run!

yuffie and cloud’s growing sibling dynamic is the cutest shit. like, he should be be pissed at her but immediately protected her from the captain.

all i hear is priscilla’s dad’s irish accent from abridged when ever someone says her name or, “mr dolphin, ye daft bastard.”

rufus shinra… the man that you are.

every rude and elena scene, just, yes. her with the ice-lolly, the corneo fight, rude’s pub club?! babysitting palmer. (also, they call it the clean-shaven club when rude literally has a beard).

i genuinely thought we were gonna at least get that iconic reno and rude scene outside of gongaga (and as a long-shot a reunion with cissnei - i stand by the fact tseng absolutely knows where she is.)

that final turks training facility was a bitch to find.

don’t get me wrong, yuffie, barret, tifa and red’s trials were sad but aerith’s absolutely wrecked me. like i’ve got a stuffy nose already and i literally couldn’t breathe with the tears.

same with dyne and barret, like what you mean you want me to fight palmer?! i’m sitting here ugly crying about two men who love their daughter and have been through hell and back.

i’d love to see cissnei and leslie get involved with the wutai turk team-up

as much as i love aerti’s ‘improved over og’ friendship. it’s not passing the bechdel test anytime soon.

fuck queen’s blood.

cloud saying “down boy” sir- THE WHIMPERING!

the kids locking yuffie in with the hooded men on the cruise.

nanaki walking in the cabin on two legs fucking kills me. i also caught barret admiring himself in the mirror.

the fact the name tag is, “???” when we can hear yuffie cheering on cloti.

did they kiss?!

so, we finally see loveless and it was everything i ever wanted. genesis, i’m sorry, you were right.

“death doesn’t suit a turk”

cloud jr is too cute and i love my chocobro protagonists

speaking of, i’m in two heads about ffxv. you can see a lot of the inspiration the team got from that game but i think they left out the one thing that made ffxv perfect, which was the constant chatter during traversal

cloud turning on tifa during the gongaga reactor mission is giving the ffxv: omen trailer

i need a tonberry robot for my desk

jessie’s poster! i really thought she’d be alive with biggs

cloud calling gus a prick is when it clicked for me, like cloud’s got bite

i need esther’s red boots

cid is played by j. michael tatum?! sebastian- france- kyouya-

elena stuck in the heat yelling at rude, omg this is the turk moments i love.

as someone who is scottish, i can’t believe i witnessed cait sith tell cissnei to “wheesht”.

not the biggest fan of cissnei’s new colour scheme. would’ve gone with browns, accented gold buckles and mustard yellow personally

wished they’d’ve put in an turk easter egg in her house.

cosmo canyon’s lantern scene is so pretty.

gold-fucking-saucer. woah

sitting at the water tower with aerith felt wrong, and i know that was intentional.

omfg vincent, why he kinda dressed like gyuvin in en garde?

jesus, roche.

still not keen on seph’s voice - mainly because i don’t like tyler and also zack is better but i’m still not keen

symbiote!peter to “OMG GUYSSS HAIIII” is like fucking whiplash. two minutes ago we were crying over harry, now hotels?!

i knew that’s what marlene saw! and now zack knows! i am not okay!

was low-key waiting on elena throwing the keystone to reno to catch for a grand intro but he kinda just appears, and i loved every second of it.

the way both tifa and aerith have had to stop cloud murdering a turk.

cloud with blood by his own hand on his face is such a chilling image. it’s like seeing someone like superman with it.

avalanche versus reno and rude’s fight was giving advent children, like specifically reno and rude’s fight with loz and kazoo. (which i rewatched recently. rude’s face when reno steps on his glasses is the funniest thing in that film, also i can’t unhear fred from scooby-doo when loz speaks even though i know it’s not frank welker - it’s the dude that plays corneo).

#final fantasy 7 rebirth #cissnei #the turks #ff7 #reno of the turks #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #aerith gainsborough #barret wallace #yuffie kisaragi #red xiii #elena ff7 #rude of the turks #tseng of the turks #sephiroth

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musings-from-mars · 3 years ago

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Weiss Schnee x Female!Reader (for @tsundere-bellwether 💖)

Okay…now was the time. She wasn’t going to back down, not again. She had prepared and fretted over this moment for long enough.

It was time for Weiss to ask out her crush.

Her uniform was freshly ironed, her hair soft and shiny as ever, intricately put up in her signature asymmetrical ponytail. She checked herself over one more time in the bathroom mirror and smiled. Everything was perfect. She was perfect. What was she even worried about? I’ve got this. I’ve sooo got this.

She turned and exited the bathroom, then headed down the hall, knowing you, the new girl, was right around the corner. Weiss had seen you sitting at that particular bench pretty often at this time of day, reading something or writing in a notebook. This was mostly due to her prior attempts to approach you, which all ended in failure mostly because Weiss had felt utterly unprepared to even say hi to you. But not this time, no no no. This was the day she’d waited for! No turning back.

Weiss turns the corner, spots you sitting at you usual bench, and smiles. Yes, she’s here, and she’s…wearing headphones?

Since when do you wear headphones? That wasn’t in the plan! Headphones meant there was a significant barrier of communication now. Weiss couldn’t just walk up and say hi like she had planned to. That would mean interrupting your listening time. How rude?! Nope, she couldn’t do this, not today…

But…you look really cute. Whatever you’re listening to, you must be enjoying it based on how you’re bobbing your head and swaying in your seat. Weiss couldn’t even peel her eyes away enough to turn and run away. She was just too enamored with observing your cute.

She wasn’t even thinking anymore. She begins to gingerly walk towards you, like your gravity is pulling her in. All plans and pretense go out the window when she stands in front of you, shuffling her feet on the ground, which you see out the corner of your eye.

You look up, and you’re kind of astonished that it’s Weiss Schnee. The Weiss Schnee. You didn’t really know a whole lot about her, but you do know she’s an important person with important responsibilities. So…why was she here, looking at you? You’re just another student here. What could she want?

You then realize that you’ve been staring at each other for an awkward amount of time, and you quickly take off your headphones. “Oh, sorry! Did you, uhm…” You shrink a little under her gaze. Her eyes are striking and bright, like storm clouds. And she looks stressed. Very stressed.

Weiss stands up straight and sighs, trying her best to steady herself before she begins to speak to you. For the first time, she finally, finally is able to speak to you. “Hello, my name is Weiss, and I want to…” Her voice trails off when something drops into her field of view. It floats down to in front of her face, wispy and graceful. Was her hair coming undone?

Since when? Does this happen? Ever???

You watch as Weiss’ face lights up in abject horror, and she begins to frantically try to put her hair back in place. “S-Sorry, one moment!” She stammers, yet she’s only making it worse, more and more of her hair coming undone. Why was she so worried about her ponytail? It’s not like you were some super cool upperclassmen, why did it seem Weiss was so concerned with keeping up her airs?

You finally realize that she needs help, and you stand. “Here,” you reach out and gently take some of Weiss’ hair in one hand. “Let me just...” You reach up to tuck it back in place in her ponytail with the other hand. You notice how soft her hair feels, almost as if you’re moving clouds around as you continue to fix it for her. You’re struck by curiosity about her hair care routine. “There.” You chuckle as you step back. “It should be fine now.”

It’s this moment that you notice the way Weiss’ expression has changed. She’s staring at you, eyes the size of saucers, with her jaw hanging open slightly. You can practically see how her mind is trying to process something. She’s not even moving. It’s...a little awkward at this point...

“Uhm...” You mutter, chiefly to break the silence. “You were saying, earlier?”

She blinks, and it seems your words snap her out of whatever trance she had been in. She takes a deep breath and presses her lips together, her shoulders tensing. “Right, that. I was going to ask—”

“Oh,” you impulsively cut her off when a little bit more hair falls out of place. You reach up and fix it like you had with the rest. “You just have bad luck today, huh?” You say in a lighthearted attempt at trying to calm her.

There’s that look again, like she’s been bewitched. The blank expression doesn’t linger as long this time, however. Neither does her hesitation as she speaks with intent and heart, “I want to ask you out on a date.”

Now it’s your turn to look stunned. You would question if you had heard her correctly, but she’d spoken so clearly, you understand what she’s asking despite how much your brain can’t believe it. Weiss Schnee likes you? And wants to date you?

And you were just playing with her hair like a doofus?

“I’ve...liked you for a while,” Weiss continues, shuffling her feet on the ground once again, her shrunken posture a contrast to the seemingly forced confidence in her voice. “But I was not able to find the right way to talk to you, until now.” She reaches a hand up to check her hair. It’s fine now, pretty as always. “So...what do you say? Would you like to got out with me?” She finishes her statement with a genuine smile, despite her very red cheeks. At least now you understand why she had been so worried about her hair. She must have really prepared for this moment, huh? All to talk to you...

How could you possibly say no?

You feel yourself grinning and reaching out, taking Weiss’ soft hand into yours. Somehow, it immediately feels right holding it. “I would love to go out with you, Weiss,” you tell her, and feel your cheeks ache from your widening grin as you watch a mixture of relief and delight overtake Weiss’ face. She beams and steps forward, and you’re barely prepared to accept a hug around your torso, but you accept it all the same with a laugh.

#self shipping #reader x weiss schnee #weiss schnee x reader #weiss schnee #rwby #drabble #reader insert

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brat-tamer69 · 4 years ago

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Dog House

♡ Summary: Your son Eren wants a dog. Your husband Levi is a bit of a hardass. You have to meet them somewhere in between.

♡ Notable Tags: AU, Married, Parenting, Levi x Fem!Reader

♡ Send requests here!

The late day sunshine of spring provided an excellent spotlight for the imaginary stage created by the window. Its opening into the front yard of the house was picturesque; lively green oak trees surrounded the view as their son, Eren, romped around in the healthy grass, giggling at what Y/N could only presume were the images created by his juvenile imagination. A hint of a smile touched her lips as her eyes fell back down to the sink and as she turned the plates over underneath the stream of water. It wouldn’t be long before her husband would be home from work, and the breakfast dishes would be replaced by ones for supper. With that in mind, Y/N began brainstorming what she would make for the next meal, knowing that the often ravenous child playing outside would be responsible for consuming most of it.

“Eren,” she called, coming from around the doorframe to greet her child outside. She knew better than to step fully into the grassy yard though, fully aware of how much the damp footprints perturbed her husband Levi. “What would you like for dinner?”

Eren promptly sat up, his jade eyes wide and glistening at the sole mention of food. “I want– Hmm…” The toddler cut himself off and placed his thumb and forefinger on either side of his chin to emphasize the difficulty in his decision. “Oh, boy! I want cheesy potatoes! And ham! And- And steamed buns! And—”

“Slow down,” she giggled. “I think you’re answering with your empty stomach and not your head. I didn’t hear anything about a single green vegetable in there.”

“Okay,” he relented in a sulk. “We can have leeks...”

“It doesn’t have to be leeks.”

“Alright!” Eren brightened up again. “Then broccoli!”

“You got it.” She smiled at the toddler then wiped her hands on her apron half. But just as she turned to go back inside, she heard his usually chipper voice only murmur to her.

“Momma, can I also have a dog?”

With her back towards Eren and her hand gripping the splintered wood of the door frame, Y/N took advantage of the unique position to hide the anguish on her face. A dog. An adorable companion for Eren to play with during the day. A four-legged sibling. And to his father Levi, a walking manifestation of sentient filth. Probably grounds for divorce, too. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hide the disappointment in her appearance as she released a tired sigh from the depths of her body then turned to face her son.

“You want a dog? Did you talk to Dad about it yet?”

Seemingly already aware of the answer to his initial question, Eren’s shoulders fell in dejection and he shook his head. “I don’t wanna ask dad,” he muttered over his protruding lip.

YN’s heart lurched in her chest as she took in the sight of Eren’s dimmed eyes glossing over, his little arms folded as far across his chest as he could manage. It was certainly an effective pout. She knew for a fact that Levi wouldn’t agree to bring a dog into their lives, but she would be damned if she had to be the one to tell her cute baby boy as much.

“Hey,” she said softly, reminding herself to go over the floors later with a rag as she stepped across the yard to chuck him underneath the chin. “Your father lives here, too, you know. And as much as he loves you and wants you to have fun, having a dog here would be a big deal for him.”

“No, it wouldn’t!” Eren cried. “I’d make his food and brush him, and everything!”

Y/N wanted to interject with information about how the dog would be fed, but instead, she filled her cheeks with air to stifle her laughter, watching her son’s impassioned speech and gesticulations. “Still, Eren,” she finally spoke when she composed herself, “that’s a lot of responsibility. You’re gonna have to show Dad you’re responsible enough.”

“Respond-able?” he half-echoed with wide eyes. “How can I do that?”

“Well,” you tsked, “You can start by cleaning up your toys and making your bed.”

Y/N nearly bit her tongue in clashing with her son’s head as he shot up from the grass. But she was more bewildered by the newly determined gleam in his eyes and the way he had one of his tiny fists curled into a tight ball. “I’ll show him, momma!” he proclaimed. “I’ll show him that I can be responding-ble!”

“Responsible!” She had called after him but he was already racing inside the house and toward his bedroom, leaving dewy patterns of his precious little feet along the way.

• • •

Normally, the way Levi’s glower would soften to a more peaceful look upon the sight of her would make Y/N’s heart flutter. But instead, her stomach was performing leaps in anticipation of Eren’s question. It seemed to distract her from her other favorite part about greeting her husband after work. Levi seemed to not have missed her cues of nervousness either as he kissed her chastely on the lips, his hand gripping tighter on the small of her back and his eyes immediately scrutinizing her.

“What?” he both accused and questioned.

“What?”

“I mean, what the hell was that?” Levi’s voice was orotund, as always—deep and luxurious to supplement his charm but intimidating enough to dispel any temptation of dishonesty.

Y/N couldn’t help but to squirm in his hold and avert her eyes to the room down the hall where, no doubt, Eren was rehearsing his speech.

“It’s nothing,” she sighed. “Just- Eren has something he wants to tell you.”

For a moment, Levi’s piercing stare studied hers in a silent shakedown, and the combination of proximity and intimacy of it made her want to march into Eren’s room and reject the idea herself. But still, through Levi’s glare, she could see his curiosity was piqued, and that was much better than the immediate disdain and shutdown she had been expecting.

“Come with me,” Levi demanded, not giving her time to refuse as he strode in the direction of Eren’s bedroom. Y/N could hear Eren mumbling to himself and his little feet padding across the floor as he paced back in forth. However, his pacing stopped just as abruptly as both his parents appeared in the doorway.

It was more than apparent that Eren was unnerved; his eyes shone like emeralds the size of saucers as he gawked at his father. “D-Dad! You’re home!”

“Yes, I got home a minute ago. What is it you wanted to tell me?” Levi asked, gaping at the for-once, decently clean bedroom nearly as much as his son was staring at him.

Y/N’s eyes did a sweep of the room right along with Levi’s. To both of their surprise, the floor was visible. The toy soldiers that would usually litter the floor were hidden away in the chest that Levi told Eren was the soldier’s “base” many times. The duvet on his bed, albeit full of wrinkles, had a neat four-inch fold at the top. Even his shoes were lined up neatly in his closet.

Eren hesitated, clutching a fist to his chest as if to wind him up. “I want a dog!” He practically shouted the admission, his voice trembling and his eyes glittering with tears. “Momma said that I have to prove I’m respond-able and that you live here, too! But I live here and sometimes, I really want a dog so I can take care of it! And if I can clean my room then I can take care of a dog!”

Silence followed Eren’s speech immediately after, and Y/N’s only clue to Levi’s anxiously awaited reply was a quiet “hmph” and how he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Is that so?” he challenged the child in a voice slicked by sarcasm. “And who is going to shovel all the poop in the yard?”

“I- I will?”

Levi frowned. “Wrong.” At this, Eren jumped with a start, preparing himself for the stern lecture that he knew was to follow. “It’ll have to be me. You’re six years old, Eren. This is the first time you’ve picked up your own toys in months and our shovel is taller than you. A dog is an animal—an animal that’s going to track dirt in the house that you also won’t clean. It has no place here.”

The delivery of the words bit into Y/N as much as they did Eren, and she found herself redirecting her attention from her boy’s quivering lower lip to Levi’s shrewd expression. To hint to him that she wouldn’t be supportive of a further verbal lashing, she took hold of his forearm and pressed her fingertips into it as hard as she could manage. It took no time for Levi to recognize the wordless warning. But the warning came too late. Before either of them could react, Eren’s eyelashes were decorated with droplets as tears fell down his cheeks in streams.

Y/N caught a glimpse of Levi’s remorse while he stood frozen in trepidation at the doorway before she brushed past him and into the middle of the room to gather Eren into her arms. He was red in the face, completely deprived of air from the force of his crying. “Oh, honey…” she whispered, stroking his soft brunette hair rhythmically in an effort to lessen the sobs he choked out. “You’re just too little is all. This doesn’t mean you can never have a dog.”

“But—” Levi stammered with a halting hand extended toward Y/N only for her to quickly shut him up.

“It doesn’t,” she said more pointedly. “It just means you have some growing up to do so we can all be sure that the dog will be safe and happy at home.”

Perhaps after a minute of silence from all parties, and a lot contemplation from Eren amid his sniffles, Y/N finally felt as though there was a resolution. For now. As much as she disliked having to correct Levi, she knew that she would have no peace if his brash manner of speaking to Eren didn’t go unchecked. And she made him aware of it too, making sure to contradict the soft kiss she gave Eren’s cheek with the ice cold eye contact she gave her husband on her way to kitchen.

Dinner went as well as she could have hoped by the grace of a higher power. She thought it would be awkward with a moping toddler on one end and her nettled husband on the other. Fortunately, only Levi appeared to be the one moping with Eren having found just as much joy in cheesy potatoes as he previously did in the idea of having a dog. More concerned with her child’s mood, Y/N went on to clean up and help Eren to bed without paying any attention to Levi, somehow resistant to how sweet the scene of him tucking Eren into bed and kissing his forehead was all the way until it was time to address his behavior.

The comment came when Levi had already settled in bed, a small book balanced between his fingers and his brows furrowed in concentration as he undoubtedly tried to ignore his wife’s annoyance.

“Levi,” she began in a chiding tone. “Did you truly have to say all that to him?”

Levi promptly lowered his reading, his unamused eyes now trained on her. “I told him the truth, Y/N. He’s old enough to know it. He doesn’t need you coddling him and sugarcoating things anymore.”

Y/N’s arms folded across her chest in defense. “Coddling? Levi, he’s six. I don’t expect you to coddle him, but you’re his dad! It’s nice for him to know he can come to you for the harsher truths and vice versa without his feelings getting hurt.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed as they met hers. “Feelings are temporary. The truth isn’t. It surrounds us all day and every day whether we like it or not. It stung for a minute but he got over it. And so should you.”

For whatever reason, the passive aggressive request for Y/N to let the issue go was enough to push her over the edge. She could feel her blood heating as it ran through her and rushed to her face, providing just enough adrenaline for her to snatch the book from Levi’s hand before he could use it to shut her down again. Stunned by the brazen move, Levi’s mouth fell slightly open.

“Do you hear yourself?” she scolded him. “You sound like you’re talking to a damned thirty year old monk! This is a toddler we’re talking about—someone that just started losing his baby teeth. And not only that, this toddler is your son!” Y/N paused before continuing, knowing her next words would be treading sensitive territory. “I know the way you were raised! You didn’t get coddled and nice words, and hugs and kisses all the time. But we agreed when we had Eren that that was something you would change. You said you would work hard to give him the childhood that you didn’t have, and I didn’t see that happen tonight.”

Levi’s eyes fell to his lap, completing a face of guilt as he ruminated. For a soundless moment that felt more like hours, Y/N feared she had driven her point so far that it went to a place of no return. Though despite her worries, he soon spoke up, a more relaxed look about him.

“I did, didn’t I?” he mused through somewhat of a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And in that promise, I didn’t realize that Eren would be so smart. Didn’t even get to teach the damn boy how to tie his shoes before he beat me to it. I guess holding him to such a high standard just comes too naturally now.”

“He is really smart, isn’t he?” Y/N agreed, easing herself onto the bed and by Levi’s side. Conscious of not overwhelming him with too much physical affection, she settled for leaning her head against his shoulder, and Levi welcomed it by pressing a kiss to her temple. “He’s also a sweetheart, just like his dad. And he looks up to him so much that it hurts him sometimes.”

“I know,” Levi said with a frown in his voice. “I’m going to make sure it doesn’t anymore.”

“I will, too... And I’ll get him a dog.”

“Y/N,” he grumbled.

“What?” she questioned back innocently. “You said he’s really smart. He can figure a dog out!”

“The kid can’t even wash his ass on his own yet and you expect him to clean up after a dog?”

“No, that’s what you’re for.”

Levi scoffed, his eye roll from beside her nearly palpable. “We’ll get him a fish in the morning. Now go to sleep, brat.”

225 notes · View notes

liquidheartbeat · 3 years ago

Text

She Didn’t Choose This Life: Flashback

Barry’s fork and knife clink loudly against his plate, as he scoots his chair backward, hands perched on his inflated abdomen. “God, I am stuffed,” he says, already regretting finishing off four T-bone steaks and all the rich, decadent sides that rounded off the meal.

From across the table, the eyes of the woman responsible for his predicament widen, as she cuts into her barely-touched steak. “Oh, really?” Iris asks, chuckling.

“What?” Barry asks, tilting his body forward.

“Well, we’ve been dating for almost a year and this is the first time I’ve ever seen you full. Like actually satiated.”

Barry chuckles as he nods, slight unease shooting through him. It’s a simple explanation, really, but he can’t tell her that being The Flash has increased his caloric requirements, because he hasn’t figured out how to tell her that he is the Flash.

And it’s not because he doesn’t want to, it’s because, everytime he scrounges up the courage, he finds out another unsavory secret about her lifestyle.

When they first met, she’d introduced herself as an art buyer, but conveniently left out the part about also international money laundering. That discovery had come months later, in the dead of night, when she’d slipped out of the bedroom for a phone call with one of her partners but wasn't nearly as quiet as she’d thought.

Of course, that led him down a rabbit hole where he also found out about the tax fraud and other financial crimes that would put her away for life if she was ever caught. Crimes that, if committed by anyone else, he’d gladly help prosecute as a member of the police department. But she’s not anyone else, she’s Iris, the first woman he’s ever fallen completely, wholeheartedly in love with.

And yes, her misdeeds probably should make him love her less, but his heart doesn’t abide by common sense. Even from across the table, as she hides a lifetime of secrets under her smile, he knows the same lips that lie to him about her whereabouts and the source of her wealth tell sweet truths to him in the middle of the night. About how much she loves him and needs him.

The same hands that gleefully count dirty money, help massage away aches she doesn’t know the truth origins of at night. The same hands that consort with criminals bring his body to romantic peaks, over and over again.

And the same eyes that stare into him before he leaves her apartment each morning, connect with his soul, and let him know her love is real.

As real as his is.

“Barr,” she says sweetly, as she dabs butter from the corner of her mouth. “Did you hear me?”

“Hmm?” He asks, snapped back to the present.

“I said...I’m glad you enjoyed dinner, because it’ll probably be a few more months before I sweat out my hair to cook again,” she says as she stands to gather her half-empty plate and glass.

Barry laughs, gathering his hands on the table as she walks over to the counter. “It’s a shame a cook as good as you hates it so much.”

Iris returns to the table, walking over to where he’s sat. “I don’t hate it, it’s just time consuming, and my jobs…”She pauses, playing off her flub with a smile, “I mean job ...is very demanding. Doesn’t leave much time to cook.”

Barry frowns, nodding slowly. Another lie, and an unnecessary one at that. But she doesn’t notice his disappointment as she gathers his empty plate and saucers. “If I wasn’t with you,” she continues as she walks his dishes to the sink,” I probably wouldn’t cook at all.”

His smile returns slowly -- a truth, however small, makes him feel special. “Oh, really?”

“Pretty sure. But my man likes to eat,” she says with a smile as she turns towards him, “So I have to oblige him from time to time.”

“So you cook...just for me?”

“Duh.” As she nears him, she pushes her slightly frizzy hair behind her ears,.

“Well, what else are you willing to do just for me?” He asks, eyes sparkling with mischievous intent as she stands over him.

Iris rolls her eyes fondly. He’s so stinking cute, extra cute when he’s confident, but she doesn’t have time. Not tonight.

After their dinner, she has another engagement with a potential business partner that could potentially double her income for the year. Of course, she can’t tell Barry that. He’s a sweet, by the book CSI, who definitely won’t take kindly to her extracurricular activities.

Shaking her head fondly, she steps backward, but he catches her by the skin of her flowy cotton top and pulls her into his lap. “Barry,” she protests, but only for a moment because his hand shoots to the base of her head and guides her open mouth down towards him.

For a skinny guy, he’s way stronger than his physical makeup should allow for. He effortlessly twists her legs around his waist, and pushes their bodies together. But she doesn’t question it. She embraces it, moaning harshly as he kneads her ass in his hands.

They haven’t had sex in a few days, and not just because of her schedule. He works long -- sometimes odd -- hours. But she assumes it’s par for the course, for a CSI. And she’s this close to putting on a show for her kitchen appliances, especially as he slinks his fingers towards the seat of her cotton shorts, dipping one near her slit. But that little touch of pleasure snaps her back to reality. Dinner and a little makeout sesh is the only thing she can offer him tonight.

“Barr,” she breathes, as she catches his hand. But he’s defiant as he curls his finger against her.“I can’t,” she whimpers. “Not tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I gotta...prepare for work tomorrow.”

He lets out a loud sigh, face wrinkling in dissatisfaction. It’s a look she's becoming increasingly familiar with, appearing any time she mentions work.

It should strike her as odd, but doesn’t. “Oh, babe,” she says with a pout, as she runs a hand through his hair. “Don’t be mad, please.”

He sighs again. “I’m not mad. I’m…” Disappointed. Wish you would tell me the truth , “ he thinks, but he actually says: “Upset. You've been ‘working’ so much lately. And Friday nights are supposed to be our uninterrupted time.”

Iris pouts, hating when she disappoints him. Hating that she has to keep such a huge part of herself from him. Of all the men she’s ever dated, no one has ever made her feel as loved, as safe, as desirable as Barry Allen.

And yet, she feels she doesn’t fully deserve the love he gives so easily. Love -- true love -- isn’t shrouded in secrecy and shadow lives. But what will he think of her if he finds out who she really is?

Just cancelling an overnight date has him looking like she punctured his lungs, and she can barely stand it. Biting her lip, to quell the trembling, she brings her other hand up, and rests them on his shoulders.

He’s so tight and fraught with tension, and her touch seems to intensify it. God, he’s really mad at her. She tilts her head, managing a soft smile as her hands move in tandem across his shoulder blade, increasing the pressure as she moves. His eyes flutter closed, defiantly, her hands attempting to squeeze the displeasure from his body. And then she leans down, pressing a soft kiss just underneath his earlobe. “I promise, I will make this up to you,” she says, softly, “Okay?”

She lifts her head up to meet his face, still rife with displeasure.

“When?”

“Tomorrow-- promise.” In actuality, she has another client meeting tomorrow, but it doesn’t have as much riding on it. And she can’t possibly stand to see Barry look at her like this twice in one week. So she’ll have to reschedule.

“Fine,” he agrees.

Iris smiles, and thumbs his chin, happy for the compromise. “Thank you, baby, for being so understanding. I’ll make it worth your while.”

"Any time with you is worth my while,” he says earnestly, his words nearly drawing tears to the surface of her eyes.

But she sniffs, hoping to keep them at bay. She can’t close this deal if she’s an emotional mess. And then she smiles, offering him one last kiss for the night.

Though the need in his return drags one kiss into four, five, and six kisses. At least until she manages to snap her neck backward and pry herself from his lap.

As she stands, she fixes her clothes, which almost ended up in a pile on the floor. Her eyes catch the time on the clock and she realizes she has less than 25 minutes to get ready before her business meeting.

“So,” she says, casually, “Do you want me to walk you down to the lobby?”

“No, that’s alright,” Barry says as he stands. “Unless you want me to beg you to change your mind in front of your neighbors.”

Iris laughs softly. “No, definitely not.”

Barry stills, taking in the sight of her. She projects an effortless beauty, even with no makeup, slightly frizzed hair and pajama shorts. He takes a step forward and leans down to kiss her on the cheek, knowing that if he aims for her lips, he might not be able to stop himself.

And while he’s not happy she’s working on a Friday night, at least she’s cleared Saturday for them. She leans up into his kiss, softly palming his shoulders with her hands. When they part, she holds his gaze.

Two beautiful, chestnut brown eyes looking up at him sweetly. “I love you,” she says softly.

His response is effortless. “I love you too -- now, tomorrow. Forever and ever.

She squeezes her hands together excitedly, and does a little sidestep. It’s an obvious attempt to make fun of his saccharine tone, but he doesn’t mind -- in fact, he welcomes it, shaking his head from side to side.

“Anyway,” he says through a growing smile, “I’m going to head out, and let you handle your business.”

She nods. “Okay.”

“Just please... be careful. I don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to you.”

His words are weighted with hard truths she doesn’t yet know he knows, yet his tone still uneases her. “What could possibly happen?” She asks, feigning obliviousness. “I have like the safest job in the world.”

He sighs, loud and hard, but goes forward with her charade anyway. “By the time you return from the museum, it’ll probably be really late. Dangerous. You have to be careful.”

“Oh,” she says, eyes widening. Of course, he thinks she’s going to the museum. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be careful.”

“You are going to the museum, right?”

She pauses, just long enough for him to prepare for the lie to come.

“Uhh...yeah.”

His brows furrow as he crosses his arms across his chest. “Are you sure?”

She forces out a laugh, hoping to quell his rising concern. Because if she doesn’t get him out of here now, her entire evening will fold.

“Yeah. I’m sure.” She smiles fluttering her eyelashes “Come on, honey. I gotta get ready.”

He takes a moment to contemplate whether or not to call out her obvious lie, but ultimately decides against it. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She smiles wider. “Bright and early,” she says, as she glances at the clock, growing wearier of his presence.

“Yeah,” he deadpans, out of options. “Bright and early…”

************************

Five minutes later, Barry swivels absentmindedly in his office chair, chewing on the dead skin of his thumb. Caitlin, who’s been watching his skittish display, glances over to Cisco, who pretends he doesn't notice her pleading gaze. Eventually, he sighs and begrudgingly casts down the chain of sour straws he’s snacking on, and scoots forward.

“Dude. Just go talk to your girlfriend," he replies, voice filled with disdain.

Barry shoots him a warning glance, in no mood to deal with his best friend's judgement over his choice of partner. “Don’t.”

“Fine.” Cisco throws his hands up. “Then do...that...all night. But I’m going home.”

Barry sighs. When it comes to his relationship, talking to Cisco is like talking to a brick wall. He turns to Caitlin, hoping his other best friend can offer some advice.” Caitlin stews in silence a moment, carefully gathering her words. The things Barry uncovered about Iris are damning, and a stark contrast to the straight-laced businesswoman persona she presents outwardly. But she’s also seen the way Iris looks at him, those rare moments they all hang out, like he hung the moon just for her with his bare hands.

Yet, still, she has to ask: “Do you think she could be seeing someone else?” Her words are careful, knowing how touchy of a subject this is.

Barry huffs. Almost offensively. “No.” At least he hopes. “But she’s definitely still lying about her plans for tonight. Probably another dirty deal she doesn’t want me finding out about.”

Unable to resist, Cisco presses a hand into his chest. “Iris West? A LIAR?” He gasps. “You don’t say.”

Barry shoots up from his chair, a second away from lunging at Cisco but Caitlin blocks him with her body. “Cisco. Please,” she scolds him backwards, gently pushing Barry in the chest.

That seems to calm him, as he flops back into his seat with a sigh. But Cisco pushes forward.

“Cool it, Cait. Alright. I’m not the one who’s leading on our best friend -- she is.”

“She’s not leading me on!” Barry yells, scooting to the edge of the chair. “She’s just…”

“...Not just an art dealer, apparently, not in good standing with the IRS -- or at least she won’t be--and in no danger of becoming a Girl Scout troop leader. Or a nun either,” Cisco retorts.

Barry shrugs, unphased by his recounting of events. “So she’s not perfect. But I have my own secrets. “

“Yeah. You’re the Flash, but, she's a criminal, who lies to you constantly. About what she does, where she goes. How many times, since you found out, have you had to save her from the trouble she’s gotten into?”

Barry sighs; he’s almost lost count of the number of times Flash has scooped Iris from the pits of danger, during a business deal gone bad. Shadowy figures, unrelated to her business dealings, looming in dark alleys after she’s left some abandoned building, scorned men whose pockets she’d bled dry, but who couldn't pursue legal action due to their own dirty dealings, who took things into their own hand.

One by one, he’d laid out anyone who crossed her path and had the audacity to even breathe at her wrong, which all amounted to silent acknowledgement between her and Flash. Because she damn sure hadn’t told him -- Barry Allen -- about these chance meetings.

Another reason he had to be cautious around her. She held her cards too close to her chest.

Cisco takes in a sharp breath. “I just want better for you man. You deserve someone who doesn’t lie to you.”

Barry holds Cisco’s gaze. “She might be a liar, but when she tells me she loves me, it’s not a lie. And because of that, I can’t just throw away our relationship -- we can get past this. I know it.”

Cisco rolls his eyes and twirls his hair round and round his finger. “Whatever.”

Caitlin, who’s grown tired of Cisco’s negativity, faces him. “If you’re not going to offer Barry any understanding, you should probably excuse yourself.”

“Fine,” he says as he shoots up, “’I‘ll go.” But when Barry finds out something else about Iris that he can't handle, I can’t be the person he vents to anymore. ” He pauses and turns towards his friend, who’s struggling to bite his tongue. “It hurts to see you like this, man.”

With that, Cisco makes his exit, leaving just Barry and Caitlin in the room. Awkward silence fills the space he leaves, as those little stubborn nuggets of rationale, in between Cisco’s snark, tries to penetrate his brain.

Slowly he looks up at Caitlin, a fervent lea in his eyes. “What do you think I should do?”

“I think you and Iris need to have a talk. A long talk, about what you know about her. How dangerous this game she’s playing is. But most importantly, what you need from her, going forward if you’re going to work, romantically. Which I imagine is total transparency.”

Barry nods slowly, taking in her advice. These are things he already knows he’ll eventually have to do, but he still still isn’t ready, He doesn’t know how Iris will take him knowing the truth about her, and he’s not ready to deal with any potential fallout. “You're right,” he says, the only answer he can scrounge up. “I wish you weren't, but you are.”

Caitlin tilts her head sympathetically, unspoken words fighting to be free.

“What?” “

“You….also... need to tell her you’re the Flash. I know, you have reservations. But if you’re willing to stay with her, through all she’s doing, she deserves to know who you are as well.”

Barry sighs, letting his head fall into his hands. There’s a universe of lies between them, and he worries their relationship is too new to handle such added weight. But he can’t continue to live like this, and can’t let her continue to live like this. They’re either going to be together, without secrets, or...He pauses, unable to let the rest of the sentence form in his head, then shoots up. “Okay. I’m going,” he says, finally. “I’m going to go talk to her.”

“Goo-,” Caitlin starts, but he’s gone in a flash of lightning, before she can finish her statement.

************************

Iris steps out of her bathroom, with barely a minute to spare before Randolf Helming, the owner of the Helming Hotel chain arrives. He’s looking to cut his tax bill in half, by funneling some of his cash into a few high end art pieces, and he thinks Iris can assist him. What he doesn’t know is that the pieces she’s going to sell him are forgeries that only 1/10 art experts can spot. So she’ll pocket his commission for her time and also the value of the real paintings she’ll sell again to an unsuspecting schulub, later in the year.

Probably to some secluded older gentlemen, who buys art for social prestige, thousands of miles away in Prague or Berlin.

A hefty journey to travel, but a necessary trip if she’s going to do better at covering her tracks. Over the past few months, some of her old dealings have started to catch up to her, and she’s had more than her fair share of brush ups.

Oddly, though also fortunately, enough, she was saved each time by Central City’s guardian angel: The Flash. Though, at this point, it almost felt like he was her own personal angel, always seeming to be in the right place when she was in the wrong place.

She’d think it strange if not for the multitudes of people he saves everyday.

As she makes her way into the living room, she takes one last look at her appearance in the big mirror hanging over her fireplace. Her previously frizzed hair has been tamed into a low pony-tail, and her face has been painted with a light dusting of makeup. But it’s her attire, a chic red, high-waisted skirt and black fitted blazer blazer that's sure to wow any potential business partner.

A knock at the door pulls Iris away from her thoughts. She pulls at her skirt, not wanting to give Randolf the wrong idea -- she might be dressed to the nines, but this is not a romantic engagement; she has to work to do-- then waltzes over to the door.

“Mr. Helming “ Iris says warmly, as she opens the door. “I’m glad you could make it.”

The silver haired man, who hovers around around 5’10 and is dressed in a light gray suit, lets his eyes travel unabashedly down Iris’s body before he greets her. “It is my pleasure, Ms. West.”

He takes a huge step into the apartment, nearly brushing his body against hers. Uncomfortable with the closeness, Iris steps backward, letting out a nervous chuckle. She doesn’t usually entertain her clients -- legitimate or otherwise -- in her home, but she figures that someone as high profile as Mr. Helming has too much to lose to act out of turn.

Still, the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention as her attempt to create distance does nothing to soften his gaze. “Well,” she says, running her hand over her hair, “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

“Oh, yes,” he mimics, seemingly remembering the reason for his visit. “Business. Lets.”

Iris smiles politely and steps aside to give him ample room to enter further. He strides past her, and heads for the couch, taking in the sight of her place as he walks. “Wow. The art world has treated you quite, well, huh?”

Returning from closing the door, Iris walks over, proudly. “Yeah, I guess you can say that."

At the couch, Randolph takes a seat in the middle of her cream colored sofa, and spreads both arms across the back. Iris, who was gearing up to take a seat next to him, pivots and takes a seat in the black recliner sitting adjacent to the couch.

He frowns and scoots his body towards the end nearest to the chair, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort.

“So. I hear you’re trying to lessen your tax burden,” Iris says, diving straight into business."

“Yeah.” He crosses one leg over the other. “My hotels are doing well. But as it goes, I owe the government 10s of millions this year in taxes and so I need a tax write off. And a big one.”

Iris smiles. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. I just so happen to have a direct connection to the Murdock Estate, who handles affairs for the late oil painter, M.N. Murdoch. They’re looking to unload a couple of pieces for the right buyer.”

“And when you say right…”

“Well, aside from the assets to afford the seven figure price tag, they’re deadset on selling it to an astute businessman -- someone who understands the value of fine art.” But who can’t tell a forgery from a real pieces.

He nods, pleased with her response. “Well, let’s see these paintings.”

Iris pulls her phone from her pocket, and opens up the PGN files of the paintings, still on display at the Central City Art Museum and hands it over to Mr. Helming. He takes the phone, finger sliding haphazardly across the screen, sending him back to her home screen.

“Oops,” he chuckles. I clicked off of the screen. Can you fix it?”

“Of course.” Iris reaches for the phone. As he releases it, his fingers graze over hers, sending a wicked chill through her.

His skin is somehow cool, yet sweaty at the same time. Iris draws her fingers in awkwardly as she retrieves the phone and reset the screen. From the corner of her eyes, she sees him wipe his palms on his pants leg. Her return is smoother; managing to hand over the phone without making skin to skin contact.

Randolf takes a moment to look over the pieces, genuine contemplation painting his face. His concentration on the task at hand eases her growing anxiety a tad, though the silence that settles over the room still tickles her nerves.

She glances over to the table, where the unfinished bottle of wine she and Barry had for dinner sits, and her mouth nearly waters for a glass. But she doesn’t drink while doing business -- at least not this kind.

When she looks back over to Randolf, he’s done with her phone and also eyeing the wine. “I could go for a glass, myself,” he says over a prickly laugh.

Iris opens her mouth to respond, then realizing no words are coming out, pushes out a choked response. “Right. Of course. Is Merlot okay?”

He nods. “That’s just fine. Though, if you have something a little stronger, I wouldn't object.”

"No,” she says quickly. “Just the Merlot -- I’m not much of a drinker.” She stands and smoothes down her skirt, and walks across her living room, towards the kitchen.

Iris had already cleaned up from dinner, so she goes to the cabinet to retrieve two wine glasses. Even though she doesn't drink on the job, she has to at least pretend to indulge him if she wants to close the deal.

Glasses in hand, she turns for the island and lets out a loud shriek when she notices Randolf is standing just feet away, at the other side. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you walk over,” she quickly offers towards his slightly offended expression.

“Oh.” He relaxes some. “I am quite light on my feet -- blame my wife.”

Iris quirks a curious brow. “Your wife?”

“Ballroom dancing,” he says, settling his weight over the island. “She makes us go once a week. On my one off day too.”

She smiles politely. “That is very sweet. I’m sure you two have a lot of fun.” Feeling more comfortable at the mention of his wife, Iris walks past him towards the table where the wine is sitting.

His shoes scuff her floor as he turns, a sound that easily penetrates her eardrums. Iris turns just in time to see his outstretched arm, reaching for her. She pulls away right before he lands and steps backward. He presses forward, trapping her between him and the table.

“What are you doing?” She asks, now on high alert.

He sighs harshly, his body drooping from the aggravation as his face contorts into a frown. “Oh come on; surely, you know how this works, Iris.”

“How what works?”

“I could get art from any buyers in the city. Men much more accomplished than you. If I came to you, it’s because of an added incentive.”

“Which is?”

“ You.” He tries to press his body into hers, but Iris pushes him in the chest. He stumbles, but only barely, as Iris rushes to the other side of the table, grabbing the half-empty bottle of wine as a weapon. “Get out. NOW,” she commands voice loud and firm.

Much firmer than her nerves on the inside. There’s no way she can overpower him, physically. And this high up, no one will hear her screams from her penthouse.

“Or what?” He asks, casually rounding the table, completely unphased.

“Or I will bash your fucking skull in.”

She raises the bottle higher, hoping to appear more threatening. He chuckles, nearly spits at her attempt. “Oh, you’re not going to hit me. Not if you want to keep doing business in this town. Remember, I have a lot of rich friends. One word from me, and you’re toast.”

“Excuse me?” She asks, overcome with offense at his audacity.

“You heard me!” Randolf yells as thrusts himself towards her, and tackles her to the ground.

The bottle of wine falls from her hand, shattering into a million pieces on the floor around them. He tries to kiss her and Iris squirms underneath him, fighting to free from his grip, shards of glass digging into her exposed flesh. She yells, the stinging pain piercing all her nerves.

“Shut up!” He yells, wedging his leg between hers as he plants a firm hand round her neck.

Iris freezes, pinned in place, chest heaving up and down as his tar-black eyes singe a hole through her.

“There.” His smile is dark and haunting. “This isn’t so bad is it?”

Unwilling to let the last sight of her be a disheveled, powerless woman, Iris spits clean on his face. His hand shoots to the spot in disbelief, face as red as the blood trickling from the wounds on her leg, “Oh, you’ve done it now!” He yells, drawing his hand backward. Iris presses her eyes shut, preparing for the blow. But where she should feel stinging pain, possibly a broken nose, she only feels a gust of wind and the relief of Randolf’s body no longer being on top of hers.

The crash that follows is deafening as the force propels Randolf into her walls. And that’s when she sees a red blur, wrapped up in blazing lightning, delivering the final blow that knocks Randolf clean out.

His limp body falls to the floor, his skull cracking against the luxury vinyl tile that covers her kitchen floors. The masked hero, who she now registers as The Flash, comes into focus. She watches him watch look over Randolf's unmoving body, making no effort to check on him.

Iris uses her depleted strength to stumble upward, grunting as fresh shards of glass pierce her hands. She lets out a guttural cry, nearly tumbling over from the pain.

From the shock. From the devastation.

He runs over and catches her, letting her body crash into his soft, open arms. She can’t even scrounge up the energy to wonder how or why The Flash has yet again saved her from herself. She’s completely overwhelmed at the fact that this night couldn't have ended so much worse.

And then come the tears, a ravenous stream down her face. Iris presses her hand into face, to block the sight of her

“Oh, God. Are you bleeding?” Asks the masked man in panicked frenzy, though his voice unmasks him immediately.

Slowly, Iris raises her head, every odd encounter with the Flash she’s had over the past few months settling into place like a finally-finished puzzle. All the she time she almost met her demise, but didn't.

He looks at her, fear coursing, over the lingering anger in his eyes, but that voice is unmistakable. It’s the same voice that awkwardly asked her out nearly a year ago, and grew giddy when she agreed. The same voice that’s crooned sweet “I love you’s” in her ear since that first night he nervously admitted it, over frozen yogurt.

“B-” Her throat is dry and ragged. “Barry?” She pushes out.

With a sigh, he tears his cowl off, revealing fully the face of the man she loves more than she knew was possible. His cheeks are bloodshot red, his eyes puffy, and glossy, a clear sign his own tears will soon spill forth.

“Oh, Iris,” he groans, sweeping her up into his arms.

Now knowing this masked hero is the man she loves, has been the man she loves, she melts further into his chest, every bit of hesitation to maintain an air of control falling away. She cries, shamelessly, unabashedly, into his chest as he rocks her.

She has a thousand questions, and knows he does too, but she can’t scrounge up a single one, only caring that he’s here now. That he’s saved her. Again.

As Iris goes silent, Barry’s mind races a thousand miles a minute. He’d taken Caitlin’s advice and headed here to talk to her about her lies, never imagining the scene he’d walk in on. He can’t think straight, can’t even worry about his former objective, he’s only grateful that he got here in time before…

“Fuck!” Yells. Iris jumps against his chest, but he’s unperturbed. “You could’ve. He could’ve…” He continues, trying to push past the ugliness these sentences conjures in his brain, but the defeated shame on her face stops him.

He kisses her cheek, and stands, lifting her in his arms, bridal style, though the apartment is devoid of the the joy of a burgeoning marriage. The air is heavy, as heavy as both their hearts, as her body in his arms. Yet he soldiers on, through the resistance. When he arrives at her bedroom, he kicks the door open with one foot and carries her over to the bed, covered in the black, floral comforter he’d bought her as a gift early in their relationship.

Before he knew of the lies and deceit.

As her raw skin makes contact with the bed, she hisses in discomfort. “I’m sorry!” he’s quick to say, swiping a comforting hand over her head.

“It’s okay, Barr,” she croaks Her voice is thin, barely meeting the air. She's afraid to bring up the obvious, knowing now that the sweet, gentle man she’s been getting to know over the last year is The Flash. A masked hero, a force of nature, keeping the city from descending into anarchy. But she has to express her gratitude somehow. “Thank you.”

He swipes a gentle hand down the side of her face, lingering on her beauty, then leans down, planting a soft kiss on the side of her face. “You don’t have to thank me,” he says, as her straightens his posture. “Now, I’ll be back.” He turns away from her and heads to the bedroom door.

Iris sits up on the bed. “Where are you going?”

“To see if that asshole is still breathing. Hopefully, he’s not. But if he is, I have to drop him off at Iron Heights.”

His response is dry, matter-of-fact, and it sends a tingle down her spine. “But. You can’t. He’ll talk.”

“It’s okay.” Barry continues to walk away from her. “He didn’t see my face.”

“But. Still. I don’t think jail is the right path for him.”

She isn’t saying what she wants, and he knows it. But he’s too amped up to care. “So I’m supposed to let the man who almost raped my girlfriend go free?! Is that what you want?”

“No. I…”she sighs, long and hard. “I just…”

He turns, the painful implication settling inside of him. Even after all of this, she’s worried about her dirty business deals. “What? You’re worried that the police will find out what you’ve really been doing all this time? How can you afford to live like this?” He motions around the apartment.

Iris gulps, the judgement in his tone hurting more than the gashes on her legs.

“Well, newsflash: the police -- me, I -- know, and have known for months. And what you’re doing, honestly? You deserve to be in jail.”

“Well why didn’t you say anything?” She croaks. “Why haven’t you turned me in?”

He chuckles, offensively. “Because...I love you more than your mistakes. And I was trying to give you time to either stop this or be honest with me.” He shrugs, painfully. “Guess it’s too late for that.”

“Barr, I’m sorry. I--.” She sighs, letting her head fall forward in shame. “ I’m sorry.”

Barry sighs. “Yeah. Me too.” He casts one final look of disappointment over her, one that softens ever so slightly when she raises her head and he meets her sad, concerned eyes. “Look, we can talk about all of this later. All that matters right now is that you're safe."

Iris nods meekly.

"I’ll be back in a sec to help clean you up,” he says, before flashing away, leaving her alone in the room....

#The flash #westallen #fanfiction #archive of our own

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gamergirl929 · 4 years ago

Text

Our Bodies Were Printed As Blank Pages To Be Filled With The Ink Of Our Hearts (Tobin Heath x Reader)

Anonymous Request: Would you do a tobinxreader where the reader is a tattoo artist who is muscular and tall and tattooed, and Tobin and her friends come in with ash to get a new tattoo and the reader ends up convincing a shy Tobin to get a small tattoo on like her ribs or something and the whole time the reader has to restrain herself from hitting on her even though she still flirts and tobins friends make fun of both of them and the reader ends up asking Tobin out and they hit it off. Like ash is protective though because she knows the readers past but she gets over it lol?

Title based off of quote: “Our bodies were printed as blank pages to be filled with the ink of our hearts.” – Michael Biondi

The bell to your shop rings and you glance over your shoulder, your smile stretching into a grin.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite customer.”

Ashlyn makes her way towards you, holding a hand out which you take, the two of you meeting in a hug. You give her back a pat as your chests meet.

“I’m not used to the place being so empty.” She says as she glances around and you shrug.

“I closed the place for today, figured you wouldn’t want fans breathing down your neck.” You say as you pat her shoulder, turning back to your equipment.

The bell to your shop again rings and you sigh.

“Sign says closed!” You call out, though a hand on your back silences you.

“They’re with me.”

“Ah, sorry my mistake.”

“Nah, you’re good.” You hear a familiar voice say and you turn around, eyes wide.

“You brought Megan Rapinoe, you never said you were bringing Megan Rapinoe.” You stare at Ashlyn wide eyed and Megan bows.

“At your service.”

You chuckle, eyes widening further when Ali Krieger, who you’d met before, as well as Christen Press and Tobin Heath make their way inside your eyes widening as you glance at Ashlyn who sends you a wink.

The goalie had known full well about your crush on Tobin Heath, the woman forced to hear you talk about the forward every time she’d come in, which judging by the tattoos on her arms and legs, was a LOT.

You clear your throat, cheeks flushed pink as you glance away.

“Ye-Yeah, c-come in.” You stammer, Ashlyn snickering as she pats your back.

Meanwhile with your back turned you completely miss the way Tobin is shamelessly ogling you, the woman swallowing hard.

It was impossible for her to ignore your physique, your muscular, tattooed arms on display thanks to the muscle tee you’re wearing, another tattoo visible crawling up from beneath your shirt and up your neck.

Tobin briefly imagines what the tattoo would look like in its entirely, but when you turn around, your eyes immediately finding hers, she glances away, cheeks flushed.

You clear your throat, clapping your hands together.

“So, let’s get started.”

***

Ashlyn’s teammates chat as you get to work, your eyes narrowed as you focus intently on your work.

“Come on Tobes, Y/N is the best artist I know, you should get your tattoo here.” Megan gives her a nudge and Tobin huffs.

“I-I don’t know...” She mumbles and you smirk.

“Aww, come on. I promise I don’t bite.” You glance her way, sending her a wink and Tobin’s cheeks flush.

You chuckle, turning back to Ashlyn’s thigh, missing the way Christen gives her best friend a nudge.

“Come on Heath.” You tease, Ashlyn rolling her eyes.

She knew about your crush on Tobin, BUT she also knew you had a reputation, a reputation for hitting and quitting with women per se.

“Yeah, Y/N knows what she’s doing, she’s the only person Ashlyn will let near her with a tattoo gun.”

You smirk.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t cheat on me, would you Ash?” You ask, the goalie smirking.

“Never.”

***

Ashlyn gingerly moves to her feet, the woman heading towards the bathroom as you move to your feet, bones cracking from being in the same position for so long.

You turn, smiling when you see Tobin inspecting a wall full of pictures, pictures you’d taken of past clients and their freshly done tattoos.

“See any you like?” You ask, moving to stand beside her and Tobin smiles shyly.

“I like all of them.” She shrugs and you chuckle.

“Definitely stroking my ego.” You wink, the forward blushing profusely.

Ashlyn’s eyes narrow when she sees the two of you, something Ali notices right away, the woman making her way towards her.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, her wife humming.

“Y/N.” She whispers and Ali’s brows furrow.

“Yeah...?”

“You know she has a reputation.”

Ali turns towards you with a frown.

“I doubt she’d do something like that to Tobin...” She says, noticing the way your cheeks flush when your fingertips accidently brush Tobin’s hand.

“I don’t know.” Ashlyn frowns, the woman’s eyes widening when you turn her way.

“Ready?” You ask and the goalie nods.

“Ready when you are.”

***

Ashlyn watches intently as you run a cloth down her leg, the fresh tattoo prominent on her tanned skin.

You nod, lips splitting into a grin as you pick your head up, your eyes darting around Ashlyn’s face.

“Man, I thought this would look better.” You jest, Ashlyn’s eyes widening as she abruptly sits up, seeing, as per usual, a literal work of art on her leg.

“Dick.” She rolls her eyes, giving you a playful shove.

“That looks amazing.” Christen says in awe, glancing over her shoulder at Tobin, the woman scanning the masterpiece with a grin.

“It really does.”

You spin in your chair, grinning up at the forward.

“Convinced you to get a tat?” You ask, a brow arched and Tobin hums, shuffling from foot to foot.

You move to your feet with a grin.

“You don’t have to.” You smile, your hand brushing hers as you slip passed her.

You take a card from the holder on your desk, a smile stretching across your face.

“You can always call me if you change your mind.” You hold the card out to her, the woman taking it with a smile.

“I know you live here in Portland...” Your eyes widen, cheeks flushing pink as you rub the back of your neck.

“Th-That sounded creepy.” You chuckle nervously. “What I meant was I know you’re on the Portland Thorns, I just, f-f-figured.”

Tobin giggles, the tips of your ears burning at the sound.

“It’s okay, you’re right.” She smiles.

Ashlyn meanwhile is eyeing the two of you intently.

She’d NEVER seen you act this way in front of ANY woman, usually, you’d plaster on a charming smile and flirt in an attempt to woo the woman into giving you her number, which, was a usual success.

Who wouldn’t have a thing for a heavily tattooed, muscular woman with a charming grin who was INSANLEY talented?

Still, Ashlyn couldn’t help but be a bit protective over Tobin, she wasn’t about to let you use her like you had other women.

“Ahh come on Tobitto.”

Megan gives her a nudge.

“We have to leave tomorrow and I’m not leaving without seeing you get your first tattoo.” She pouts, the woman wanting to see Tobin get her first tattoo.

“Ohhh, a tattoo virgin.” You snicker, your tongue between your teeth.

Tobin hums, her eyes darting to the wall full of your past client’s tattoos before she fishes her phone out of her pocket.

“I may have looked at a few designs...” She shrugs and you move to stand beside her, the forward stiffening at the proximity between the two of you, the smell of your cologne clouding her senses.

You nod, one of your hands moving to rest on her back.

“That’s cute, I like it, from your brand, right?” You ask, Tobin turning to you with an arched brow.

“You know about re-inc?” Christen asks and you smirk, making your way behind the counter before coming back with something in the palm of your hand.

Tobin grins at the sight of the ReImaginer Signet Ring in the palm of your hand.

“I bought it the day you released it.” You smile, placing it down on the counter with a sigh. “I tried to buy someone’s painting, but someone out bid me.” You pout, Tobin’s cheeks flushing.

“You’re serious?” She asks and you nod.

“Unfortunately, I had to eat, so I couldn’t bid any higher.”

Tobin smiles, the woman’s eyes widening when Megan gives her a nudge.

“SO, TATTOO YAY OR NAY!?” She grins, waiting, semi patiently for Tobin’s answer.

Tobin glances your way, the charming smile on your face making her grin.

“Yay.”

Megan throws a fist in the air.

“YEAH!” Megan walks over, smacking your arm.

“LETS GO TO WORK.”

You laugh, nodding to the chair.

“Whenever you’re ready Heath.”

***

The look on Tobin’s face when she sits in the chair makes you chuckle.

“Nervous?” You ask as you adjust the clean gloves on your hands, and Tobin shrugs, wiggling in the seat.

“A little.”

You place a hand on her forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It’ll be alright. I’ll be gentle.” You wink suggestively and Tobin’s cheeks flush.

“I know you needed time to think of where you wanted it, so-

You stop mid-sentence; your eyes widening when Tobin pulls her shirt over her head, revealing her sports bra clad physique.

You can’t help but peruse the woman’s newly exposed flesh, the woman’s abdominal muscles prominent.

You clear your throat, glancing away, the tips of your ears burning hot.

“Here.”

You give your head a shake before you turn back to her.

You duck down, the woman’s fingertips dragging along her bra line.

“That’s going to be a little tender.” You say, unconsciously running your fingertip along the underside of her sports bra.

Tobin meanwhile has stiffened, her eyes as wide as saucers and cheeks blood red.

Megan snickers, sending her friend a wink, while Christen covers her mouth to stifle her giggles.

Ashlyn in the meantime is staring your way, her eyes narrowed.

Ali gives her a nudge.

“She’s just doing her job.” She whispers in her wife’s ear and Ashlyn hums.

“She better be.”

You hum.

“Here would be best.” You tap her side, a bit below the edge of her sports bra.

You glance up at her with a smirk.

“I mean, you’d have to wear more revealing clothes to show it off...” You shrug. “Can’t say I’d mind, I mean...” Your eyes run down her front, the woman in the chair looking at you with wide eyes, her cheeks dusted pink.

Tobin glances away bashfully, rolling her eyes when she sees Megan fluttering her eye lashes.

You turn to Tobin as you pick up your tattoo gun.

“You ready?” You ask with a soft smile and Tobin inhales loudly, her eyes closing.

“Yep.”

***

Much to your surprise, Tobin remains completely still, the woman seemingly unaffected by the needle.

“Color me surprised.” You say with a smile and Tobin’s brows arch.

“I didn’t expect you to be the unaffected by getting a tattoo type.”

Tobin snorts.

“Give me more credit than that.”

You chuckle, focusing all of your attention on your work.

Tobin’s eyes glaze over, the woman watching as your face hardens, your eyes narrowing as you focus on making even the smallest of tattoos perfect.

With you so focused on your work, Tobin gets the chance to do a little perusing of her own.

Tobin’s eyes dart intently around your face, the woman’s brown orbs running along your jawline, a jaw that’s currently clenched.

She takes in the smooth skin of your face, wondering what it would feel like to touch it, the thought making her cheeks flush red.

Tobin can’t help but smile when she realizes your tongue is poking out of the corner of your mouth, your dark Y/E/C orbs narrowed.

You smirk, taking your eyes off your task, your eyes locking with Tobin’s brown orbs.

Your lips split in a grin.

“Something on your mind?” You ask, your eyes darting around her face.

Tobin grins, biting her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Maybe.” She winks, blatantly flirting and your cheeks flush, your eyes darting from her brown orbs, to her lips and back.

“Maybe we can talk about what’s on your mind when we finish, hmmm?” You hum, her lips spitting in a grin.

“I think I like the sound of that.”

***

Ashlyn’s brows arched as she watched the two of you interact, blatantly flirting.

She’d never seen you act the way you were currently acting with any woman other than Tobin, Tobin who couldn’t help but keep smiling at you when you weren’t looking, Tobin who seemed to be as interested in you as you were her.

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if you were just going to use Tobin like you had the other women before.

Ashlyn hums when she sees the two of you simply staring at one another, your and Tobin’s cheeks dusted pink.

Maybe she was wrong about you.

***

You pull back once you’re satisfied, turning to Tobin with a grin.

“What do you think?” You ask as you grab your mirror off the nearby desk.

Tobin grins when she sees the newest addition to her body, a tiny popsicle, a bite from the sweet treat, along with a drip from the permanently melting popsicle.

“That’s amazing!” Christen beams as she peeks over your shoulder, Megan jumping on Ashlyn’s back so she can see over everyone.

“Dude, that’s dope, I’m coming here for my tats from now on.”

Ali gives you a pat on the back.

“Y/N always does good work.”

“She’s the best.” Ashlyn adds.

You wipe your gloved hands across your shoulders, earning an eyeroll from the forward in the seat in front of you.

“I was going to write my number on there, but I thought that would be a bit much.” You shamelessly flirt and Tobin laughs, retrieving your card from her pocket.

“You already gave me it, remember?”

Your eyes widen, your cheeks dusted pink as you rub the back of your neck bashfully.

“So, I guess I kind of already did what I planned to do, huh?” You chuckle, your lips splitting into a grin.

Tobin blushes as well, glancing away from you, embarrassed.

“I guess you did.” She whispers softly, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

You clear your throat, focusing again on your work, applying the ointment and bandage before you move to your feet.

“Looks like were done.” You groan loudly, stretching.

Tobin moves to her feet, taking a step towards you.

Your eyes widen, the proximity between the two of you lesser than it had been the entire day.

“Does that mean you want me to use the card?” She asks, holding it between the two of you and you smirk, your eyes darting from her brown orbs to her lips and back.

“Do you want to use it?” You ask, hopefully, something about Tobin affected you in a way that no woman had in a long, long time, an affect you wanted to explore further.

Tobin grins.

“I do.”

You chuckle, grinning.

“Th-Th-That's...” You clear your throat, glancing away, cheeks flushed. “

“That’s, cool...”

You nod.

“Cool. Ye-Yeah, cool.”

Tobin laughs, taking a reluctant step back.

“Damn, she got game.” Megan whispers to Ashlyn, the woman nodding, a small smile playing on her lips at your nervousness, a nervousness you hadn’t seen before.

Christen gives her best friend a nudge, the woman’s cheeks flushing pink.

“You have to admit, they’re cute.” Ali whispers to her wife, the taller woman nodding.

“Yeah, they are.”

Still, she can’t help but feel somewhat reluctant at the thought of the two of you being together.

Tobin moves towards the counter.

“How much?”

You shake your head, your fingertips brushing her wrist as you slip behind the counter.

“It’s on the house, it’s not every day I get to have my way with a first timer.” You flirt, teasingly, the forward rolling her eyes with a giggle.

You point across the shop at Ashlyn.

“YOU, are still paying.” You snicker, the goalie rolling her eyes.

“Fineeeeee.” She pouts and you throw your head back with a laugh.

The others make their way towards the door, Tobin lingering behind with a shy smile.

“S-So, text you later?” She whispers, shuffling from foot to foot and you grin, leaning across the counter.

Tobin’s entire body is set aflame when you take her hand, giving it a light squeeze, your thumb running across the back of her hand.

“Ye-Yeah, I hope I hear from you, I’d uhhh...”

You clear your throat, swallowing hard.

“I’d really like to umm, get to know you better.”

Tobin surprises you by wrapping her fingers around yours, giving your hand a squeeze.

“I’d like to get to know you better too.” She says softly, the woman glancing down at your joined hands.

You give her hand a squeeze before reluctantly letting go, the two of you already missing the feel of your hands in one another's.

“So, see you later then?” You smile and she nods.

“Yeah, see you later.”

You watch with a shy smile as Tobin exits the shop, your lips splitting into a grin as you throw a fist in the air, excited to talk to the woman more.

You clear your throat, remembering that you aren’t alone in the shop, your cheeks blood red when you turn towards the others, Megan, Ali and Christen all grinning.

Christen gives you a wave as she follows Tobin out of the door..

“See you later, Y/N.”

“Later tater, I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.” Megan grins, smacking the counter and you chuckle, giving her a wave as she leaves the shop, Ali following close behind.

“I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.” Ali grins and you chuckle.

“With how many tats Ashlyn gets, we’ll see each other in a week or two.” You laugh, the goalie’s wife giggling as she exits the shop, leaving the only two people in the shop being you and Ashlyn.

You turn to Ashlyn with a smile.

“I’m glad you like the finished product, just let me know when you want to get another done and my schedule will be cleared.” You grin, brows arching when you see the look on her face.

“Is something wrong...?” You ask, head cocked to the side and Ashlyn sighs.

“Look, if I’m being honest, I’m a little worried about you talking with Tobin.”

Your eyes narrow.

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused and Ashlyn clears her throat.

“Look, I know about your reputation...” She mumbles and you wince.

“O-O-Oh...” You fidget nervously.

Ashlyn frowns at the look on your face.

“Look, I don’t care if you talk to Tobin, but if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

You snort, the frown on your face turning into a small smile.

“I won’t...” You shrug, cheeks flushing pink. “There’s something different about her, I don’t know what it is.” You shrug, the flush on your cheeks darkening.

Ashlyn leans across the counter, giving you a playful nudge.

“There must be, I’ve never seen you like this.” She laughs and you roll your eyes.

“Stopppppp.”

Ashlyn laughs as she fishes in her short’s pocket for her wallet.

“Still, hurt her and I kill you.”

You nod.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #tobin heath x reader #tobin heath imagine #I know #title is long #but I love it

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ackermans-freedom-inc · 4 years ago

Note

hello! i thought it’d be interesting (and cute) to see something where reader gets stuck in a blizzard, and no one can find them for HOURS. Levi is absolutely worried SICK and almost dies himself getting to reader. When they get back, he’s like furiously cuddling with her??? like he was super worried, but can’t say it, so he pretends he’s upset about almost dying??? but reader knows that he was just really worried. Maybe reader gets a little sick idk 👀 thank you have a great day/night! ✨💕🥰❤️

Hi there! Thank you for your request!!! I am so so sorry this took so long. I wrote this over and over again and never really felt satisfied with it. Eventually I figured I just had to post it. I hope its kinda what you had mind??? This fic also got weirdly long?? Like 4 pages??? Holy??

tags: angst, fluff

Snow

It was Christmas eve and the whole base was buzzing with excitement. The holidays were a time to celebrate, let loose, and for once, enjoy life surrounded by those you love. For you, today was a special one. You had kept Levi’s gift a secret for months now. Ever since you stepped foot into that tiny little shop, you knew what you were getting him.

Beautiful ceramics lined the shelves and display cases, ornate teacups and saucers painted with beautiful colours and depictions of a world not so different than the one you lived in. As you browsed the shop, your footsteps had stalled once you saw this one particular tea set, designed by an artist who had hailed from the Underground. It was perfect. You had made the order and requested it to be picked up on Christmas eve. You knew how good your boyfriend was at finding your haphazardly hidden birthday surprises, and this year, you didn’t take any chances.

Wrapping a scarf around yourself and bundling up for the trek into town, Levi cast a worried look your direction. “Looks like snow, hurry back okay? I can’t believe Erwin would make you run this stupid errand. Can’t anyone else go into town?” he fussed, helping you put some mittens on.

“Relax Levi, I’ll be back in no time!” you smiled broadly, giving an unconvinced Levi a small kiss on the cheek.

You had gotten Hanji and Erwin to cover for you, managing to convince the usually uncooperative Erwin to lie to Levi, saying you had a special errand to run for him in town. As you stepped out into the chilly air, you looked up at the sky, begging the heavy clouds to hold off on snow, just for a little while.

By the time you made it into town, tiny snowflakes were lazily dancing in the sky, barely existing before melting on the ground. You bundled your newly acquired package to your horse, happily doing a little victory dance. You had checked the package to make sure everything was intact, and god, did the set look perfect. You knew Levi would love it.

The town was surprisingly busy, and of course, you were stopped often by the townspeople who gave you little trinkets, wishing you well. You had always been popular with the townsfolk, always eager to lend a helping hand. As you chatted with the third elderly lady that stopped you on your journey back, you couldn’t help but glance at the sky. Big, fat snowflakes were now coming down, harder than earlier. The wind had also picked up, driving the snow into a frenzy, making it harder and harder to see in front of you. You politely excused yourself as worry crept into your heart. It wasn’t too long of a ride back into town, but with the impending blizzard, you just hoped your horse would be able to find its way back onto base.

Just as you reached the edge of town, you noticed a small figure huddled by the gates. At first, you thought it was Mikasa, and your heart lurched. The figure was clad in a shawl, a small red scarf wrapped around their neck, shivering as they looked up at you with bright blue eyes. You couldn’t just leave this child out in the cold, and as much as you knew you were going to get an earful from Levi when you got back to base, you picked up the trembling child and helped them onto your horse, snuggling the child against your body, your jacket wrapped around the both of you.

As you urged your horse towards the town once more, you shouted out into the cold, barely able to see. Thankfully, a voice soon shouted back, the wailing sounds of a mother, worried sick. “Jack!” her voice was picked up by the howling winds, “Jack! Honey where are you!”

You felt the child in your arms perk up at the sound of their name. You shouted back into the cold, and slowly but surely, you were able to find the woman. She was shivering, tears frozen on her face. Nearly collapsing in relief, you smiled, handing the child to his mother. She nearly broke your ribs with her bone crushing hug, thanking you over and over, her shouts of “Thank you so much miss!” carrying in the wind even as you rode brisky away towards home.

As the love in your heart warmed your body, you had to admit, it was fucking cold out. Careful to not rush your horse for fear of him losing his footing, you trudged on, knowing base couldn’t be too far off.

Back on base, Levi was worried sick. He had seen the snow start to fall, and kept one eye on the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of you on your horse coming through the gates.

When the snowflakes started falling faster, he had paced around your shared room.

By the time the snow was falling sideways, he had nearly strangled Hanji to get the story of your whereabouts.

When he couldn’t see the trees that lined the narrow path on base, Levi set out by himself to find you, ignoring the fact that Erwin was putting together a search party for you as well, the commander feeling guilty having lied to his longtime friend as to your whereabouts.

Erwin had figured you had gotten home ages ago, and kept his distance, giving you and Levi privacy. When a frazzled Hanji burst through his doors croaking incoherently about “Storm, Y/N, still out.” He had immediately dropped the act, summoning a furious Levi and telling him the truth – that you had went out to pick up a gift for him.

As fear made his heart beat faster, Levi wrapped his coat tighter around himself, hoping that he wasn’t too late.

Levi was losing his mind. Erwin had caught up to him, riding ahead and all but yanked the shorter man off his horse, insisting he head back to base. In his haste to find you, he hadn’t bundled up, a coat the only thing he wore. His fingers were bare, and feet clad in casual boots. He paid for his impulsivity; his appendages now numb from the cold. He refused to listen to Erwin and pushed on ahead. He would never forgive himself if he were the reason he lost you.

It was an hour later when even Erwin returned. The storm was too much and he had no choice but to order everyone to return.

You nearly screamed in relief as your eyes made out the familiar gates of base. You patted your horse on the neck, praising him while your throat burned, half frozen on the inside by the cold. “Good boy Fritz, that’s a really good boy! You saved us both.” When you reached your hand out, you realized you had hallucinated. There was no gate. Just endless white. You willed the tears away, your eyes already half frozen as your eyelashes frosted over. This is it. This is how you died. You scoffed to yourself. Pretty lame Y/N, dying in a stupid snowstorm.

As you heard the voice of your lover calling your name, you smiled. Ah, so this was death.

“Oi! Y/N! Is that you? I swear after we get to base I am going to make you pick up every single one of your hairs off the floor with tweezers.”

Wait a minute. What type of heaven is this?

Squinting into the distance, you heart nearly leapt out of your chest, a squawk of “Levi!” leaving your burning throat.

As you rode back towards base together, you felt warmer than you had all day. Levi had found you.

As you staggered towards your shared room, Levi’s body was colder than you had ever felt it. His fingers and toes were stiff and blue, your attempts to kiss his fingertips did little to warm them up. You allowed yourself to be bundled up by Hanji but refused to let go of Levi. He was in bad shape. You at least had thick winter boots and two pairs of wool socks on, your fingers protected by fur lined leather while Levi had nothing.

By the time both of you collapsed into bed, Levi was nearly glued to you as he hugged you with all his might. You were tucked into his neck, his chin resting on your head. Despite how cold Levi was, he was still trying to warm you up. You tucked his fingers under your arms, trying to warm them up as well as you could as you let him press his icy toes against your legs.

He was scolding you, teeth clacking as he tried to give you the deadliest stare he could muster. “Don’t you ever do something like that again Y/N. How could you be so careless. I can’t believe you made me come get you. You know how fucking cold I was out there looking for your sorry ass? Erwin will have my hide now that I’m out of commission for the next little while.” He grumbled, appendages burning as they warmed up from your ministrations.

“I know Levi. I’ll go apologize to Erwin.” You smiled as you let Levi snuggle you even closer. Behind his bravado, you knew he had been worried sick. Hiding behind his complaints of the cold and Erwin’s scolding, you translated his words. ‘You know how worried I was? It was so cold out there, what if I had lost you!”

Needless to say, Levi developed a love-hate relationship with the damned tea set you had risked your life to get him. Every time he would bring it out, fingers tracing the patterns adorning the surface, he would cast a glare towards you. And every time he did so, you would just smirk, padding over to give your grumpy lover a kiss before pouncing on him, sticking your cold fingers underneath Levi’s shirt, relishing in his sharp intake of breath as he grumbled about “You and your cold ass fingers”.

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years ago

Text

Getting to First Base

A/n: just a little something. i need more seungmin on my masterlist anyway and i would do anything for my babies so! (not thoroughly edited)

Requested by: @pixielix

Tag List: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoe @poeticallyspaghetti @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @yangomangos @jeonqqin @geminirules @crscendoforsung @mrsunshine999 @multi-net

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: cheeky seungmin that's about it i think

Summary: Kim Seungmin is the star of Cheongdam High. His grades are top-notch and he is the star pitcher of the school’s baseball team. Every girl wants date him and every guy wants to be friends with him. But, little does Y/n know he only has eyes for her. All it takes is one night and one extra private practice for things to change for both of them.

Genre: romance, fluff, non-idol!au, baseball player!seungmin, softball player!reader, highschool!au, popular kid!seungmin

◈

An ominous buzz filled the lunchroom. Not the kind attached to any flying pest. This was the sound of gossip seeping from every table in the cafeteria. Despite the conformity inspired by our school uniforms, clear, distinct borders were made in the large room.

Near the window, were the candidates for valedictorian and their study groups. Their trays always lay untouched and books took their focus. In the right corner were the Netizens and resident fan-girls and boys alike. They were mostly harmless unless it was comeback season. Across the way in the left corner was the ‘cool’ kids. Cool meaning the guys smoked behind the schools and the girls cut their skirts to short and glared at anyone who looked their way. Towards the back were your general outcasts and weirdos. They usually kept to themselves, but if you were caught sitting with them it was the social equivalent of suicide.

The center. The center was where everyone wanted to be. The focal point of the cafeteria was the two circular tables that housed the school’s pride and joy. The baseball and softball teams. And at the heart of it all, seemingly lit by a ray of sunshine, was Kim Seungmin. Star pitcher of Cheongdam’s baseball team.

Seungmin sat atop the lunch table, his shaggy brown hair falling across his forehead. His tie was loose and hanging lower than it should be and the silver bracelet he always wore dangled over his tan wrist as he waved over another member of his team.

It was no secret I liked Seungmin. Almost every girl in our school had a crush on Seungmin. Girls flocked to give him gifts before games and they waited for him before and after practice. I watched from the girls’ field as they lined up at the fence and cheered for him as he pitched inning after inning.

My less than white sneakers squeaked over the white tiles as I carried my lunch tray to the softball table. “Y/n!” My friend Jia waved me over, a bright smile illuminating her face. At the sound of my name, Seungmin’s head popped up like a meerkat and searched the cafeteria. His eyes met mine and I gave him a smile before sliding into my seat.

The cold metal of the cheap tables chilled the bare skin on my legs. “Did you hear about Miyoung?” Jia said twirling the aluminum chopsticks in her hand before stabbing them into a sausage. I nervously laughed at her exhibition of violence towards the innocent piece of meat.

“No. What about her?”

“Apparently she’s failing a class. Her mom is pulling her from the team.”

My jaw dropped, halfway full of food. Without looking she pushed it up, prompting me to finish chewing. “But we have Sectionals-” Jia nodded stabbed yet another sausage. “She’s our star pitcher-” I could hear the meat squealing in pain at her unhindered violence. I noticed some of the boys at the next table staring at her with terrified eyes. When she turned they looked away, hands hiding her next possible sausage target.

“I’m going to take these away from you.” My hands reached for her saucer but an animal like growl escaped her throat so I left her be.

Jia sighed looking at our team around the table. “I just really wanted to win Sectionals this year.” We ate the rest of our meal in silence, waiting for the bell to ring. The hall was flooded with students. The sea of blue jackets made it hard to weave my way into Room B23.

Class droned on for the next hour. Just as my eyes started to droop, I was hit in the back of the head by a paper projectile. The ball of notebook paper landed on the floor at my feet. My eyes fell on a familiar shaggy head of brown hair. With happy puppy eyes, he pointed towards the paper, eyeing the teacher warily.

Why Seungmin felt the need to throw the paper at me I had no clue. He sat right beside me. The teacher seemed preoccupied with scolding a student about using their phone so I reached down and picked up the note. I smiled seeing Seungmin’s handwriting.

Do you have practice today?

He was asking if I had practice? Did he suddenly drop every brain cell in that big head of his? It was a known fact that the baseball and softball schedule was practically identical. Every day he had practice and every day I had mine. That’s why the school invested in a second field for the softball team.

Of course. Same as you. Why?

My hand moved across the paper, making every letter neat and in beautiful handwriting. Quitely folding the note, I slipped it between two fingers and held it down by my side, staring at the board. I desperately tried not to withdraw feeling Seungmin’s fingers brushed mine as he took the parchment.

Quietly he unfolded the paper and I listened to his pen scrawl across it more than I did read the lessons from my textbook. My hand stayed ready to receive his message but it was once again tossed onto my desk. Rolling my eyes I opened his message.

I like knowing things.

Not bothering to write anything back I crumpled the sheet and tossed it at his head. Seungmin laughed, our teacher’s head shooting up and sending us a stern glare.

That was such a Seungmin answer. He always loved being the smartest person in the room. Putting the weird interaction in the back of my mind, I focused back on my work and waited for the school day to be over.

◈

I stood in line with the rest of the now twelve girls of Cheongdam’s softball team. The sound of the boys’ practice was carrying over the chainlink fence onto our field. Our coach walked the line, clipboard in hand.

“I’m sure you all are aware Miyoung has dropped from the team.” Most of the girls nodded, several gasped and turned to the others looking for confirmation. “With Sectionals coming up we need an immediate replacement for our pitcher.” His eyes scanned down the line, holding a stare with every single girl. “L/n. Congratulations, you are our new pitcher.”

“But- I’m just a shortstop?”

“Not anymore.” He tossed me a mitt and called for everyone to take their positions. A heavy weight landed on my shoulders as I stood atop the pitcher’s mound. I felt all eyes on me as the first girl stepped up to the plate.

The ball was familiar in my hands. I stared at the girl waiting to bat. With as much aim and accuracy as I could muster I threw the ball. It sailed over the plate before connecting with the wooden bat with a loud crack.

The rest of our practice seemed to last an eternity. The coach yelled at me more than anyone else on the team. By now everyone had left. The floodlights had been shut off and I stood in the dark on the pitcher's mound. The ball felt heavy in my hand.

Staring down the makeshift target I created at home plate, I wiped the sweat off my brow. The ball flew from my hand missing the target by just an inch. Sighing, I collapsed onto the ground head in my hands. Cold sweat lay on the back of my neck, becoming freezing as the night breeze blew over it.

“Shouldn’t you have left already?”

Looking up I saw Seungmin walking towards me with a long stride. A duffle bag hung loosely over his right shoulder and he smiled at me from the gate entrance. His hair was messy and I could see the sleeve of his uniform hanging out of the bag.

“I heard you’re the new pitcher. How is that going?”

“As you can tell, not so great.” Setting down his bag Seungmin grabbed onto a basket full of softballs and dragged it over to the mound. He placed on in my hand before standing back and watching expectantly. “What are you doing?”

He shrugged, scuffing his shoe in the tan dirt. “Helping you. Obviously.” Nudging my shoulder he pointed to the target. “Let me see what you’ve got.” Pitching in front of Cheongdam High’s star player. This was certainly not how I imagined this night to go.

Taking a deep breath, I aimed my stare towards the target. Seungmin watched me with an analytic gaze as the ball left my hand. The round projectile grazed the second most outer ring of the target. He shrugged as I turned back to him.

“It’s not bad. I’ve seen worse.”

“Thanks for your vote of confidence.” Seungmin shrugged once more and watched me pick up another softball. “Here. Why don’t you show me how it’s done then. A smirk played at his lips as I tossed him the ball.

He listed his head, playing with the spherical object. “You do realize, pitching a baseball and pitching a softball are technically different.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes as I stepped back from the top of the mound and motioned for him to step up. With perfect form, he let loose the ball, long fingers seeming to extend as it flew towards the target. A large thunk could be heard and all that was left was a dent smack dab in the center of the target.

“Want me to teach you?” Slowly I nodded and walked over to him. His fingers brushed mine as he handed me another ball from the basket. “Try inhaling when you prep and exhaling as you let loose the ball.”

Following his instructions, I took a deep breath and let go as the ball flew past my fingertips. Seungmin burst out laughing when the softball bounced off of the target’s corner. “You’re supposed to be teaching, not laughing dumbass!”

“I can’t help it,” Seungmin gasped, doubling over in laughter. “That was too cute!” My body froze involuntarily and I prayed that he assumed the blush on my cheeks was from the cold. His eyes raked over my face clearly noticing the heat flooding over my skin. “Try again?” Seungmin proposed picking up another ball.

Knowing my only chance of a scream-free practice tomorrow was standing next to me I turned back towards the plate, the ball passing between my hand and the mitt. Hearing Seungmin’s sharp intake of breath had me turning to wait for criticism. To my surprise, I felt his hands on my waist and his chest brushed against my back. Again I froze, choosing to look anywhere but the boy behind me.

“Is something wrong?”

He shook his head, breath fanning over the back of my neck. With a gentle touch, his hands turned my hips parallel to his. “Try angling your hips this way. IT might help-” Seungmin stopped and stared seeing my eyes dragging over his lips. Ghosting over the corner of his mouth was a smirk that would make the Chesire cat proud. “Your staring.”

“Well...you were talking.”

“Please, you were practically undressing me with your eyes.”

“When did I-”

He laughed, keeping his hands on my waist. “I’m just kidding, Y/n.” Embarrassed, I stared down at my shoes. “Though...if you did want to kiss me, you should just do it. I’m very tired of waiting.”

“You’re tired of waiting? What about me?” I asked turning around, crossing my arms. The rough leather of the mitt was tucked under my arm in an awkward way, but I ignored it. “Why do you think I always buy an extra banana milk on Fridays? I know you’re going to ask for one at study group.”

Seungmin laughed as I lightly swatted his shoulder, dropping the softball on the field and letting it roll away from the pitcher's mound. “Why do you think I go to study group? My grades are fine.”

“Well...I-”

Before I could come up with an answer, Seungmin leaned down and pressed his lips against mine before pulling away hands behind his back. “You what?”

“I-.....uh...well-”

Again, Seungmin leaned down and pecked my lips. “Yes?”

“Kim Seungmin would you stop for one second!”

“So, you don’t want me to kiss you?”

“Yes. Wait- no. Wait.....what?”

His eyes crinkled and he pulled me towards his chest, kissing me deeply this time. It was a kiss that made me weak in the knees. Still not entirely processing that Seungmin was in fact kissing me, my hands hung by my side. “I’m doing all the work here. Are you going to kiss back or what?” Seungmin said with a laugh. Shaking myself out of the confused trance I grabbed his cheeks and pulled him back down to my lips.

Wrapping my arms around his neck I kissed Seungmin with every part of my being. He smiled, holding me as close as possible. Suddenly a blinding light flashed over us. “Hey! What are you kids still doing here?” The voice of one of the security guards yelled.

Seungmin and I shared a look before dropping the mitts and running towards the gate hand in hand. Grabbing our bags, Seungmin pushed me through the gate as we ran from the school guards. “Run!” I screamed dragging him through the looming iron gates that bordered the school grounds.

The two of us laughed as we ran down the dimly lit street. “So, can I tell people you are actually my girlfriend now? We can officially be the best team in the sports department.” Leaning up I kissed his cheek before pulling him around a corner towards my house.

“Yes. Why would I turn down a boyfriend when he comes with free pitching lessons?” I joked making him roll his eyes and ruffle my hair.

◈

Requests are Temporarily Closed!

Masterlist

416 notes · View notes

paellaplease · 4 years ago

Note

revali x reader 16 (i think?) verklempt please ❤️

16. verklempt - completely and utterly overcome with emotion

19. temerate - to break a bond or promise

pairing: revali x reader summary: falling in love is difficult when neither of you know the end is near.

Night had fallen by the time you mustered the courage to walk up to him. He watched the shining caps of your barely worn boots approach the other side of the campfire, sensing your nervousness as you awkwardly stood for a few beats, weaving and unweaving your fingers.

Either his reputation as the strongest Champion preceded him, or he was completely unapproachable. Throughout the day you would chance a look at him from across the camp, quickly averting your eyes the moment he noticed. You were part of the Princess’ research effort and therefore had some questions— that much he was certain of. Yet you’ve been dancing around him for hours, gathering the will to speak only to have it snuffed out the moment he acknowledged your presence.

Embers lifted from the flames and flickered into the night sky as you finally faced him. Revali held his tongue and gathered his patience, trying to hide the glitter in his eyes at the chance of ‘wowing’ another admirer (nevermind that you were the first).

“Champion, uh sir,” you fumbled with the titles. The question fell from your lips so quickly that his disappointment didn’t register until a second later. “What kind of flower do you favour the most?”

“...”

If the following silence wasn’t damning enough, the Rito was honestly at a loss for how to respond to such an inane question. Seriously? He was better than this. Others have made more important inquiries and had to wait weeks, if not months, for him to clear time in his busy schedule and reply.

Something like this didn’t deserve attention, let alone an answer.

“Swift violets.” He said, before rising from his seat by the fire, dead leaves crunching under the weight of him as he made a beeline straight for his tent.

Parting the canvas, he pretends to miss the earnest wave of goodbye you send his way, ignoring the static in his chest the moment his head hits the pillow. Sleep comes quickly.

A month later you meet again.

The universe seemed to adore playing tricks on him. Crossing the threshold of his home, he catches you investigating the decorative shells hanging by his kitchen window. Amusingly, you were balancing on the tips of your toes, its placement just a tad too high.

There’s something different this time around. You seemed more at ease with your surroundings, no longer jumping at every sound like a stranger in their own skin. The tips of your boots were scuffed with use, and the minute cuts and imperfections in your clothes spoke of days spent in hard work and travel.

Though some things still remain the same. He holds back his smirk when you stumble forward in surprise at the sound of your name, getting straight to business once you were safe from the risk of falling over. “I believe you’re the researcher sent to assess my progress with Vah Medoh?”

“Yes, I am.” You’re quick to snap back into stiff professionalism, he’ll give you that. The bow is low and formal, your back so still that someone could confidently rest a cup and saucer on it. An introduction spills out, followed by an apology when you realise he already knows who you are from the briefing he was given days earlier in Hyrule Castle.

The task was simple really. King Rhoam Bosphoramus wanted a full report on the breadth of Hyrule’s offensive capabilities against Calamity Ganon. From Guardians to Divine Beasts, much had been done in the past year in preparation for their greatest adversary. Now as the whirlwind began to settle, all must be accounted for, down to the last soldier.

Your report was just a drop in what will be an immense ocean of information currently being collated. But it was nevertheless quite vital. He wonders how someone like you was selected for such a task.

“Let’s do our best.” You blurt. Revali could see the millions of thoughts racing behind your eyes when you decide to break away from your military-stiff posture, raising a hand in the traditional Hyrulean greeting between strangers.

The lines of your palm stretch before him like deeply-woven thread. He glances at the wrinkles and grooves in your flesh, remembering that some mystics believe such lines could predict something as unknown as the future. He can’t help but wonder what yours might foretell.

Pressing his wing to your outstretched hand, he declared his agreement. “Of course. You’ll soon see that my ability to pilot Medoh is nothing short of perfect.”

He can’t help it. “And no questions of the botanical sort, understood?”

The sudden playful grin you give him makes all his witty quips screech to a halt, his focus trained solely on the way your face instantly lights up when it isn't held down by strict politeness or pure nervous energy. “I’ll be sure to steer clear from them this time, Champion. You have my word.”

Both of you eventually fall into a comfortable routine. Meals are made together and the chores are done quickly through combined effort. You catch on well, cottoning on to the needs of the day based on the tasks you both decide on the night before.

After breakfast he finds his gear and yours already neatly arranged by the doorway, allowing him additional time with Vah Medoh and you the chance to closely observe. The idea of training with an audience never bothered him, but knowing you followed close behind, notebook at the ready, gave him the extra push to perform just a level better than his previous.

One more arrow, one more extravagant somersault in the air. He even maneuvers Medoh to do a complete 180, reveling in the way your mouth pops open in awe as you walk across what was once the ceiling.

“... .... --- .-- / --- ..-. ..-.” The ancient machine complains, unhappy to be on their back. The Rito pilot pats the metal wall apologetically, watching as you excitedly flit from one end to the other, feeling quite pleased with himself.

Revali dreams of a cliff’s edge.

The precipice looms before him, nothing but fog and the unknown past the point where the ground stops and plummets. Revali looks at you and feels the smooth rock of the sea stone underneath his talons; hears the sound of crashing waves in the distance. Tantalising was the mystery of the void beyond.

The meaning escapes him the moment he wakes up. His pillow was warmed by the glow of the sun, making him realise that he had slept in. Morning was just beginning, and both of you had a full schedule of tasks to get through.

Diverting all his mental energy to the work ahead, he scrubs the sleep from his eyes and shakes away the odd thrill in his feathers. I’m better than this, he thinks.

His tea is still warm when he arrives at the table.

Word of the researcher shadowing him gets around quickly, it’s a small village after all. Some of the Elders glance at you in suspicion, old wounds from disagreements fought with the capital in the past lingering like dye in the water. You don’t seem to mind it, too caught up in the new sights and smells of this vibrant community built in the clouds.

The Rito children are much more enthusiastic about your presence, sharing in your curiosity by matching your questions with their own. Getting comfortable on the wooden slats of the departure deck, you happily play encyclopedia for them.

“Were you this cute back then?” You ask, watching a fledgling hop from one talon to another in imitation of a lizalfos, chasing after their friends who were the heroes in the story, at least for this round of the game.

“I was a model citizen.”

“Not true!” One of them pipes, poking him in the side with the tiniest of wings. “Mama said you were a hennish scallion.”

“You mean a hellish rapscallion,” the eldest of the bunch laughs, screaming when the ‘lizalfos’ tackles them into the ground.

Crossing your arms, you fix him with your best look of authority, shaking your head in mock disappointment. “I apologise but the council has spoken.” He raises a brow at your antics, feeling a little light headed at the adorable way your eyes water whenever you hold back your laughter. “Do you plead guilty for perjury, Mr Champion?”

Champion. The word echoes and reverberates, wrapping tightly around his brain like the blue scarf fitted snugly on his neck. He likes the way you say it, making him wonder about something else.

The words leave his mouth before he can think it through. “Revali will do just fine.”

Mirth drains from your face, replaced instead by surprise. “W-what?”

“I have a name.” He ignores the feeling of his feathers standing at the back of his neck, unclenching his jaw. Relax, he tells himself. “Better for you to call me that than to continuously mess up the titles.”

“Still working on it,” you shrug. Then, you’re gesturing for him to step into your space, leaning forward just the same like you’re about to tell him a secret. You’re close enough for him to feel the warmth of your breath against his beak. He freezes, becoming hyper aware of his heart thundering against his ribcage, not daring to move even a muscle in fear of giving his thoughts away.

“Revali then,” you murmur, almost too soft for him to hear.

It was only when one of the children tugged at your sleeve, dragging you away to explain the appearance of another monster you’ve encountered in your travels, that he allows himself to breathe.

His presence had been requested at the Chief’s office, the old, war-weary Rito regretfully informing him that an urgent message had arrived. Multiple reports had noted an increase in the signs of Calamity Ganon’s resurgence. It came as no surprise, with every Blood Moon summoning more monsters from the void, an omen that something big was coming.

Letters from the Princess implied the worst: that she had exhausted nearly all avenues in awakening her sealing power. The Spring of Wisdom would be her last chance, and after that, who knows? The Champions were to meet again in three weeks at the foot of the mountain, to celebrate or to re-strategise depending on the outcome.

He was never the religious sort but by the Grace of Hylia, please let it be the former.

A headache was beginning to form as he made his way home, the idea of knocking out on his hammock for an hour or so sounding extremely appealing. The day was coming to a close, a cold breeze chilling his back as the orange heat of the evening crept its way to night.

You’re the first one to the hut this time, brown scuffed boots positioned neatly at the doorway. Revali stares at them for a second too long, wondering if you knew your time in the village was coming to an end earlier than expected. The information you had diligently collected was finally required, a little last minute if he had to comment but such were the nature of these things.

The mental image of you puffing out your cheeks in frustration, complaining that you would have to organise the data on the way back, was enough to make his mood perk up— just a tiny bit. Picturing you disgruntled and annoyed, just like when the markets ran out of your favourite produce, was easier to stomach than the thought of saying goodbye.

Leaning against the hardwood of the kitchen counter, you don’t notice him enter the room, too engrossed in the list you’re making.

It's a sight he'd seen before. If he forgot about the sobering news he'd just received, then the day would feel like any other.

The open window frames your form, making you appear like a painting come to life. Rays of light streamed from the cracks in the blinds, illuminating the slope of your nose and curve of your mouth.

Instinctively, you tilted your head to the source of warmth, instantly reminding him of the swift violets that would bloom by the Hebra cliffsides, forever seeking the sun.

Oh.

The ground had finally run out, earth and sky crashing together. There was no denying it now. Inwardly, he cursed himself, following the thought past the precipice, plunging himself deeper into the truth he'd avoided acknowledging for months. The universe truly was cruel.

It wasn’t like he didn’t see it coming. The answer was clear as day, right from the beginning of its inception.

It's the golden hour before sunset when Revali realises he’s in love with you.

Wind plays with the jade clasps of his braids as he appraises Medoh’s central control unit. He’d done this maneuver many times before, enough that he could perform it with his eyes closed.

It was your final day on assignment so shouldn’t he attempt an action that was more daring? He tried to ask. But you had rejected the proposal outright, reasoning that it suggested this would be the last time you both would meet at the top of the Divine Beast. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” you smile. “I’ll visit once the fight is over.”

“Guess there’s no harm in going back to the basics,” he mused, inputting the commands before taking a step back.

Leaning against one of the columns, you watch with rapt attention as he points the Divine Beast south. The view abruptly shifts from the towering mountains of Hebra, to the grassy Tabantha Frontier, greenery spanning for miles and disappearing into the white, snowy wall of Mystathi’s Shelf.

You tilt your head up, eyes trained on the heavens. There’s a solemn intensity in the way you look at the sky, as if trying to ascertain a greater meaning to your existence in this world between the cover of clouds and the endless sea of blue. It never gives you the acknowledgement that you desperately want, no matter how long you spend asking it, but that doesn’t stop you from searching anyway.

He understands because he’s tried asking well, too many times to count. Eventually the young Rito stopped looking, opting to make an answer for himself instead.

“Do you ever get tired of it?”

Revali’s silent for a moment, mulling over his answer, before he pushes away from the control unit and starts walking towards you. “There’s no spectacle grander, and I can’t recall a time I’ve been without it. As a Rito, it was your first companion, and so long as you looked above, you were never alone.” He shook his head. “Though I guess to love something so vast and beyond our comprehension would be rather imbecilic.”

He’s running his mouth at this point, the hum of Vah Medoh loud in his ears. “... .. .-.. .-.. -.-- / -.-. .... .. .-.. -..” the beast warns, but he continues anyway.

“It’s far too foolish to pine for something that will never be in your grasp. So it would be best for me to realise that there’s no point in fighting it anymore. I mean, I should feel relieved by the concession that at least I’ll be remembered by someone other than myself.”

Your attentions were no longer directed at the sky, the intensity of your eyes piercing into him, seeing right through his poorly hidden deflections. “Are we still talking about the same thing?”

The urge to plunge himself over the edge and fly away by the sheer fuel of his embarrassment was beginning to feel very enticing. Trust his description of the sky to sound like a confession. “No,” he admits.

“Then…”

Revali thinks about telling you— considers allowing himself to become vulnerable just this once.

You’re still here, feet planted firmly on the ground, within his reach at this very moment. There was nothing he wanted more than to take that last step forward, to close the gap that perpetually rests in between you both. He imagines what it would feel like to wrap his wings around you, and believes that it would be nothing less than holding infinity.

Yet, despite this— despite everything, he sighs. “Another time.”

Almost like reading his mind, you simply nod in response, smiling as you reach out to him. He lets you take one of his wings in both your hands, the firm surety of your touch grounding him into the present. There’s no hesitation in your next words, only a promise of a thousand tomorrows lingering on the corner of your lips.

“Tell me when we meet again?”

“I swear it on my life.”

As usual, what was supposed to be a short and sweet answer became a creature of its own, demanding my full attention until it was finished. Writing in Revali’s POV is so fun, but there’s always that small bit of doubt that I can never do his character justice. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy this one.

By the way! Hello to all the new visitors to my blog. Welcome yall. This is the prompt list. I may not answer straight away, but I shall do my best :)

#revali #botw #revali x reader #breath of the wild #writing prompt #paella writes

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asthmark · 4 years ago

Text

❝ walk you home ❞ l.dh

synopsis → “it’s just a suggestion but you could maybe put your lips on mine?”

request → “hi ive reading your works and honestly thank u for being a blog that doesn’t write smut. i feel like there are so few blogs like so. all your works make my heart feel fluffy and warm 😊 i was wondering if i could request a fluffy prompt kinda based off the nct dream song: walk you home with haechan? you have full creative freedom ❤️ thank u”

word count → 1.6k

you didn’t walk home often but when you did it always proved to be a peaceful and serene experience.

you take pleasure in the sound of the pavement beneath your feet as your legs carry you home and your hands hold on tightly to the straps of your backpack. the calm breeze blows some of your hair around and the sun’s rays shine down on you delightfully.

you decide it can’t get much better than this.

but, of course, you can’t have anything nice.

you realize this when you feel a pair of hands grasp your shoulders firmly resulting in you effectively jumping out of your skin with a loud shriek.

the culprit, none other than lee donghyuck, laughs as he watches you place your hands on your knees, trying to steady your racing heart.

“not funny, donghyuck!” you punch his arm to express your frustration. “you almost gave me a heart attack, for christ’s sake!”

he holds up his hands in defense. “okay, okay. i’m sorry. i was messing around, i thought it’d be funny.”

“oh right because sneaking up on a girl walking home alone and making her think she’s going to be kidnapped is just hilarious.”

“i really didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, genuinely. “i came here for a reason, i swear.”

you raise your brows, expectantly.

“i was just thinking i could maybe walk you home?”

you observe the way he tugs gently at the string of his hoodie, almost as if he were nervous. but why would he be nervous in front of you? you were just his best friend’s little sister.

“you want to walk with me?”

he nods in confirmation.

you play with your shirt collar, not entirely sure what to say. “that’s fine, i guess.”

with that, you continue on your route not even waiting for donghyuck who jogs to catch up to you. despite your houses being only a couple blocks away from each other, you and donghyuck had never walked anywhere together. at least, in your high school years.

when you were all much younger, him and your older brother mark would almost always walk to the bus stop together. your mother had you tag along with them and your tiny figure would often be seen trailing behind them, trying your best to keep up.

as you grew up, many things begun changing. most notably, the way you felt about donghyuck. before, all you had seen him as was mark’s obnoxious friend who pestered you relentlessly. but you had finally realized how cute and charming he truly was. you started to enjoy the way he teased you as long as it meant you had his attention. it wasn’t long before mark noticed your change in attitude and connected the dots. it was easy to say he was displeased. first of all, having you follow donghyuck all the time like a shadow proved to be very irritating. second of all, his best friend and his little sister together was something he didn’t want to even think about.

when he commented about your strange behavior to donghyuck, the boy had only said he didn’t mind it. in fact, he seemed to enjoy your little antics.

mark realized had no other choice but to take matters into his own hands. so, he sat you down one evening to have a chat with you and he certainly had no problem lying straight to your face.

“donghyuck hates you,” he had said.

you had stopped stroking your dolls hair to stare at him with eyes as big as saucers. “w-what?”

“yeah. he told me. he thinks you’re super annoying.”

and just like that, your little heart had been broken. you remember crying for hours that day and begging your mom to drive you to school so you wouldn’t have to face donghyuck in the mornings. mark even suggested that you avoid him at school too so that he wouldn’t find you anymore unpleasant than he already did. you obeyed and soon enough your trio had broken up.

ever since then, you had stayed in your own lane away from lee donghyuck who, according to your older brother, could not stand you.

“so... what’s up with you? i feel like it’s been so long since we caught up.”

you sigh, kicking at a pebble on the sidewalk. “i’m pretty okay.”

he waits, expecting you to add on. he clears his throat awkwardly when he realizes you’re not going to. you had been so talkative during your childhood, what happened? “oh, that’s good.”

for the sake of clearing the tension, you force yourself to ask him how he’s doing. “what about you?”

his face brightens up. “i’m doing good! well, grade-wise no. actually, maybe? i have straight c’s which is technically passing but not super good, you know? but other than, i‘m not bad. i finally tried out for a basketball team. remember how when we were younger i always wanted to play but they told me i was too short?”

“i remember a lot of things from when we were younger,” you mumble, bitterly.

he continues, dismissing your comment. “yeah well, i finally grew! i’m actually three inches taller than the average male. isn’t that crazy?”

you’re not entirely sure how to respond so that you just nod and try to give him the most sincere smile you can muster. “good for you.”

“hey, didn’t you want to take art classes when we were kids? but your parents made you do ballet instead?”

you hesitate as the memory registers in your brain. “yeah. i did, actually.”

donghyuck chuckles. “you were so mad. and then you ended up not even taking it. i’m pretty sure it was because you threw a huge tantrum outside your house.”

you titter at the embarrassing memory. “i totally forgot about that. you must have a crazy good memory.”

he shrugs. “kind of. but i think my favorite one has to be when you tried sneaking out of your bedroom window but you fell and ended up with a fractured ankle.”

your eyes dart to him. “oh my god, how do you know that? did mark tell you? because i swear if he did i’m gonna—”

“it wasn’t him.”

“then who was it?”

he suddenly becomes shy. “i, um, heard you telling your friends about it.”

“you were eavesdropping?”

he fiddles with his earring, nervously. “i guess. but i swear it wasn’t to be creepy—”

“sounds pretty creepy to me, donghyuck.”

he sighs in defeat. “i just wanted to hear your voice.”

you stumble over nothing. “i’m sorry, what?”

“you’re never around me anymore,” he says, sounding hurt. “i know you’re avoiding me. and i don’t know why. but i still try to be close to you without upsetting you. i try to meet your eyes when you pass by in the hallway, i try to go by your house as much as i can so i can catch a glimpse of you. but it never works.”

ever since mark had told you how donghyuck felt about you, you swore to yourself you would stop caring about him. although, at this moment, you can’t help but feel slightly guilty. you try to come to your senses.

“i thought i was annoying,” you mumble.

he squints his eyes. “what? who said that?”

you stop dead in your tracks. “you’re kidding right? you did! you said i was annoying and that you hated me.”

he stares off into the distance, trying to concentrate. “i really don’t remember saying that to you.”

“you didn’t. you told mark. mark told me. i never forgot it.”

“okay, i definitely didn’t say anything like that to mark. the only thing i remember telling him was—“ he stops, abruptly.

you press further. “what did you tell him, donghyuck?”

“that i had a crush on you.”

it takes you a moment to process the words that come out of his mouth. “are you messing with me?”

he scowls. “no! it took a lot of guts, i remember being so nervous to tell him. i thought he would tell you for me but i guess he said the complete opposite.”

strangely enough, you believe him. you decide to confess too. “well... i had a crush on you too.”

now it’s his turn to be stunned into silence. “seriously?”

“yes! i thought it was so obvious.”

“i would have never known.” he runs a hand through his hair. “just imagine what would have happened if mark had told either of us how the other felt. why do you think he lied about all that stuff, anyway?”

“knowing him, he couldn’t stand the thought of his little sister and best friend liking each other so he tried to keep us apart by lying and hoping we’d just forget about each other or something. what an idiot.”

“jokes on him if he thinks i would forget you. we might’ve been like 12 but i was ready to commit.”

you chuckle. “and how about now? still willing to?”

he smiles, pearly whites on display. “always.”

##bonus:

you stop at the front steps of your house, turning to donghyuck and grinning from ear to ear. “well, thanks for walking with me. i’m glad we finally got things sorted out.”

he nods. “i’ve missed you.”

you bite your lip. “i’ve missed you, too.”

he ruffles your hair. “you’re still super adorable, by the way.”

“and you’re still super—“ you run your fingers over the smooth skin of his cheeks before squeezing them. “annoying.”

he pouts. “that was mean.”

you place your hands on his shoulders. “sorry, cutie. i couldn’t help it.”

“make it up to me?”

“and how would i do that?”

“it’s just a suggestion but you could maybe put your lips on mine?”

you smile, more than happy to follow through with his instructions. as you lean in, you feel your inner little girl get the best of you. your heart speeds up and you hold your clammy hands together tightly behind his head.

“what is going on here?!”

you both jump back from each other to face mark standing in the doorway of your house. he wastes no time dashing down the stairs, coming straight for the brunette beside you.

“lee donghyuck, i’m going to strangle you!”

at hearing the pure anger in mark’s voice, donghyuck’s face drops. he presses a quick kiss to your lips. you don’t even have time to feel any form of surprise because before you can even register what was happening, he’s making a run for it with mark right behind him.

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thedeathdeelers · 4 years ago

Text

anyway so i finally finished another Juke drabble (at 12:45am on a Tuesday when I have to be up for work in 5 hours lols) based on the word prompt “Dancing” sent in by @nervousmiracletrash

the word mostly just inspired the idea for this fic - but ya. still counts :) enjoy!

(also this fic refers to a movie about a friendly ghost from 1995, so i hope it still makes sense to you even if you haven’t seen it)

Now also up on my AO3

————

childhood crushes

“So you’re sure it’s in one of these?”

Julie’s eyes remained focused on the notebook balanced on her knee, skimming through the never ending lines of poems and lyrics covering every page as she answered Luke.

“Yes! I swear, I remember working on something similar with my mom a few years before she- A few years ago. If we can find it, we won’t have to start from scratch.”

Feeling a little stiff, Julie leaned back, her eyes never leaving the pages, as she rested against the foot of her bed, stretching her legs out in front of her. They had been sitting on her bedroom floor all morning, surrounded by piles of scattered old notebooks of varying colours.

“I know, but we’ve been up here for ages and we haven’t even taken any breaks yet.” She could almost hear Luke’s pout as he continued, sitting cross legged and leaning against her closet door. “I’m nearly done with my stack. Maybe we should just consider focusing on one of our other songs for now? Come back to this one later?”

Julie shook her head as she looked up, her eyes needing a second to readjust.

“I’m telling you Luke, we’ll find it. I won’t be able to work on anything else unless I get this melody out of my head. I know I can find the lyrics. They’re definitely here. Plus we’ve pretty much gone through the majority of my notebooks - there’s barely a few left. We’ll be done before it’s time to head down for band rehearsal, chill.”

Without waiting for a reply, Julie lowered her gaze back down, quickly finding her spot on the page she was in and resuming her search. Luke shook his head at the stubborn girl sitting across from him, a small smile touching his lips. He knew there was no point in arguing with a Julie that had already set her mind to something. Adjusting his sitting position to avoid cramping (who knew ghosts still had to deal with pins and needles, eh?), he dived back into the book in his lap.

It stayed quiet for a while after that, only sounds of paper crinkling under fingers, and soft whispers of words being spoken disturbing the peace.

That is, until disaster struck.

“Uh, Jules, why does this notebook have “Julie hearts Casper” written all over it?”

Julie was so focused on the poem she was reading, that Luke’s words took a few good seconds to fully sink in. But when they did, her head snapped up while her heart sank, the blood draining from her face. It would have been funny if she wasn’t the one panicking right now. Her eyes, now as wide as saucers, zeroed in on the offending journal, balanced on Luke’s left knee. She had completely forgotten about that.

“It’s nothing! Nothing just a- a- a pet’s name! Yes! We had a dog named uh Casper and I really loved him.”

She scrambled up, the notebook she had been so focused on only a few moments ago hitting the floor with a soft thud. She quickly reached Luke’s side, swiping the journal off his knee and out of his reach.

“I thought you guys never had any pets? What with your dad’s allergies?”

Julie froze on her way back to her spot by her bed, having completely forgotten that her dad, who she’s literally known her whole life, was allergic to dogs. Trust Luke to remember that tiny, throwaway detail, but completely “forget” that her dream box was out of bounds.

She slowly resumed her half hop trek to her spot, avoiding the minefield of papers and journals, making sure Luke couldn’t see her face for as long as possible. Her mind, on the other hand, was busy hastily trying to come up with a plausible excuse.

“Yeah, we uh- we had Casper for a week before we found out Dad was allergic. Had to give him away after that.” Julie held the journal tight against her chest as she turned back around to face Luke now that she was at a safe distance.

Luke’s eyebrows lifted, disappearing under his beanie. The disbelief on his face was palpable. He could always see straight through her.

“So you’re telling me that your dad didn’t know he was allergic to dogs until he was in his thirties?”

“He was still in his late twenties, thank you very much!”

“Jules, you know that’s not my point.”

“The point is we had a dog, I loved him very much and then he was gone. It was a sad time, can we just move on?”

He was still looking at her sceptically, but nodded his head regardless, diverting his attention to the dwindling pile of notebooks yet to be explored, spread out on the floor next to him.

Julie was just glad Luke hadn’t noticed the little ghost doodles decorating the spine of the notebook. She plopped back onto the floor, sneakily pushing the accursed nightmare under her bed.

It was only half an hour later however, just as her heart had finally reached a normal tempo, when Luke spoke up again.

“So, Casper huh? You guys really named a dog after a ghost?”

Trying hard not to groan out loud, Julie forced her features to adapt a natural expression, before lifting her face towards her band mate.

“Yes. Mom had just introduced me to the movie, and the name was still fresh in my mind.” She could see that he was still not buying her story, but there was nothing she could do. She was definitely not about to spill the truth to him.

Luke scratched his head, his beanie shifting with the movement.

“I see. So the little ghost doodles down the side there, have nothing to do with the actual friendly ghost? The one from the Casper movie released in the summer of 1995?” He was pointing in the general direction of where she had thought she had managed to carefully dispose of the journal. Apparently not.

Julie could feel her cheeks getting warmer, and curse it all, Luke had definitely noticed. That damn smirk.

“Not to mention the ghost painted on the back pocket of your favourite pair of jeans.”

She threw her head back, bouncing slightly against her mattress as her hands flew up to hide her warm face. Luke chuckled.

“Fine! This is mortifying, but fine! I had a crush on Casper as a kid, okay? Happy?” Her voice came out muffled, her palms pressing hard against the horrified expression taking centre stage.

But not even a few seconds later, did she feel hands wrapping themselves around her wrists and pulling her fingers away from her face. She hadn’t even heard him move. She kept her eyes closed, scrunching her eyelids together as tightly as she could. Maybe if she thought of it hard enough, her carpeted flooring would eventually swallow her up?

“So, you had a thing for ghosts, huh?”

She could hear the barely suppressed glee in his voice, making her eyes pop open in disbelief.

“Ugh! This is why I don’t tell you everything!” Now that her eyes were open, she didn’t know where to look. Maybe over his left shoulder?

A soft chuckle made its way out of his mouth.

“Aw, come on Julie! This is actually pretty cute. Kinda feels like fate, huh?”

“Really?” She deadpanned. Her eyes diverted to his face of their own accord.

“I mean, he’s a ghost from a movie from the 90s, the girl has the hots for him even though he’s clearly dead...I’m getting similar vibes here.”

“He was just a floating orb!”

He tried to cut her off with a sly “As opposed to cute air?” But she continued speaking over him, wanting to defend her old childhood crush.

“It was an emotional connection. A deep connection, exploring different emotions and representations of love, resulting in some pretty iconic lines and moments in the movie.” She sounded a little hysterical, a little ridiculous. But the whole situation she currently found herself in was ridiculous in and of itself, so there really wasn’t much pride left for her to hold onto anymore.

Luke hummed at her reply, his eyes brimming with humour.

“Thought about it a lot, have you?”

“Ugh! You’re impossible. Fine. You might as well know. It was my favourite movie for a long time. I’d watch it whenever I was having a bad day or whatever.” She shrugged, casting her eyes downwards towards her lap where their hands lay; his fingers still locked around her wrists. She knew she wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Was?”

“Yeah, well...It started hitting too close to home a few years ago so I just.. stopped.”

Understanding dawned on him, as she felt more than saw, the energy leave him in one fell swoop. She chanced another look at his eyes, and saw that the humour previously taken up residence had now shifted to something softer.

“Julie I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that, I-“

“No, no Luke really. It’s fine. I’m okay now. I haven’t felt the need to watch any comfort movies or shows lately anyway. Maybe I’ll even revisit it sometime soon, who knows. See it with a fresh set of eyes.” She gave him a small smile as she tilted her head to the side. “Honestly, don’t worry about it.” After a beat of silence, Julie grasped at the chance to steer the conversation away from anymore embarrassing questions.

“Do you think we could stop looking through these for now? I’m getting hungry, and it’s nearly time for practice so...” She gestured towards the mess on her floor.

“Yeah, of course.” Luke looked at her for another second, checking that she really was okay, before letting go of her wrists and jumping up. He then extended his hand down to her, waiting to pull her up with him.

As she got up, she couldn’t help but appreciate how sensitive Luke could be when it came to her feelings. She reached up on her tiptoes, and sneaked a quick peck on his cheek, before pulling him along with her, leaving the mess of notebooks (and hopefully that whole topic of conversation) behind them.

A few days had passed, and Luke hadn’t brought up the movie again. She had assumed he had forgotten, or at least accepted the fact that he wasn’t going to get much more out of her concerning that topic. Or maybe he even felt bad. But then a week later, while Julie was sat in the studio on her own (a rare occurrence), she was proven wrong.

She was sat on one of the armchairs, scribbling away furiously in their songbook, inspiration having finally struck. She was so focused, her hands gliding through the page as she hurried to get every word down, that she barely glanced at Luke when he popped into existence to her right.

She didn’t even notice when he moved to stand in front of her, knees nearly knocking into hers.

“Okay! So I finally figured out the second vers-“ Julie looked up, stopping mid-sentence as she finally took in the sight of the boy standing in front of her.

“Can I have this dance?”

“Luke? Why are you dressed like that?”

“Humour me, Julie. Dance with me?”

The fact that there was no music currently playing was on the tip of her tongue, but Julie held back. She takes a few seconds to reply though, too busy drinking in the sight in front of her. He had his hand outstretched towards her, dressed in black pants and a white dress-shirt. She was hyper aware of the fact that he was dressed in the near exact way she had imagined him during her imaginary Perfect Harmony routine. The only difference was his hair - but she had to concede to the fact that he looked better this way. It was 100% Luke, and she wouldn’t have him any other way.

Putting her notebook with the pencil tucked inside on the coffee table to her right, she reaches over towards Luke, taking his proffered hand.

He pulls her up, just like he did in her bedroom the other day, and guides her to the centre of the studio. They stand there, staring at each other for a few seconds before a song starts playing on the old garage stereo - the same one that had brought them, him , to her in the first place.

every now and then,

we find a special friend,

who never lets us down

who understands it all

reaches out each time we fall

you’re the best friend that i’ve found

I know you can’t stay,

a part of you will never ever go away,

your heart will stay

Luke reaches over to grab her other hand, lifting both up to his shoulders. Once settled, he lets go and finds her waist, pulling her in a little closer. Following his lead, Julie wraps her arms around his neck, her eyes focused solely on his. She listens to the song that is playing, gently swaying from side to side with the boy in her arms.

She cocks her head to the side as she tries to figure out why the melody and words sounded so familiar to her.

“This song sounds so familiar? Like I’ve heard it so many times but I just can’t place...” As her sentence dies on her lips, a small gasp is heard escaping her. Julie’s eyes widen as memories of her younger self listening to this song and swaying along in her mother’s arms flood her mind.

cAll the while, Luke’s eyes are intent on hers, reading her reactions. His hands resting on her hips, slide past her hips towards her lower back, his arms fully wrapping themselves around her, pulling her closer to his chest.

“You didn’t!” Her eyes still wide, still unbelieving.

“I figured of all the things I could actually accomplish as a ghost, any childhood dreams you might have had - this might actually be it.” He shrugged, his shoulders moving under her hands. His grin turned boyish. “Plus I didn’t like the idea of another ghost having a hold on your heart.”

Julie has to try hard to focus on the questions she wanted answered, and not on his sweet confessions.

“But- I assumed you guys never got to watch the movie? It came out around the time you were too focused on the band and the gigs, and then...” She let the rest of her sentence trail off, never too comfortable mentioning their early demise.

“I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” She felt his shoulders shift up and down again. He shook his head at her as he continued. “I gotta say Jules, you really know how to pick ‘em.” She could see the mirth brimming in his eyes, his lips twitching as he tried to keep his amusement under control.

Julie’s eyes narrowed at him, even as she tried to keep her own smile from forming on her lips.

“Girls are all about that star crossed lovers’ life. Add in a dash of supernatural? Absolute dream.” She moved her hand, gesturing wildly to convey her (ridiculous, but secretly truthful) point.

Luke chuckled at that, the laughter finally spilling out of him.

“Lucky for me then, eh?”

Julie’s eyes softened, her mouth curling into that special smile she only ever reserved for him. She stood on her tiptoes, her lips a hair’s breadth away from his.

“Who said I wasn’t the lucky one?”

They stayed that way for a few seconds, still moving slowly from side to side as they stared at each other. They were so close they were breathing the same air. And just when Julie was about to close the distance, Luke shifted, tracing his lips across her cheek, her jaw, until they hovered by her ear, warm breath sending shivers down her spine.

And then he whispered to her the four words she had been dreaming of hearing ever since she was a little girl.

“Can I keep you?”

FIN

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #juke #juke fic #jatp fic #julie x luke #my fics #aaahhh #i’m kinda proud of this one?#thedeathdeelers fics

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