#I mean that literally. It's such a bright piece with very little deep shadows in it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gh0stly-pages · 2 months ago

Text

Out of Our Minds (Part 5)

Ledger!Joker x Harley Quinn-esque f!reader (18+)

CW: violence by gunfire and gas, implied deaths/fatal injuries

Words: 5.8k

Chapter Summary: After a long night of plans, you're ready to break your patient out of Arkham Asylum

previous part: part 4

Notes: Welcome back! sorry for the long wait, life has been pretty busy but here's the next part! Things are really cooking up in this one. Just wanna preface that in this series you are NOT a good guy, you're turning into a villain like Joker, so there will be lots of violence and so if you're uncomfortable with that stuff I advise you not to keep reading! I won't be getting graphic though (and I really hope that I don't have to be the one to remind you that in real life, murder bad) Also this whole chapter includes a plot for breaking out of Arkham that is very farfetched but we're gonna pretend like it makes sense, okay? okay. Enjoy!

Arkham is cloaked in shadows.

The patients are forced into these shadows, pushed there by people desperate to remain in the light. They want to be the light. To show themselves as all things good and pure. They walk around with their chins held high and their shoulders back, clucking like birds. They are bright. Intelligent. Classy. Or so they want to be seen as. What lurks beneath is all darkness.

These people avoided the shadows, and thank goodness for that.

As you lurked in the shadows, preparing for the madness to come, you couldn’t help but smile.

_________________________________________

Your heart is pounding as you approach the two guards outside of Joker’s cell. You’ve managed to move his session to be the last one of the day, and the anticipation has been killing you.

You don’t know how you got here. You don’t mean literally, you know how you got there, walking with shaking legs through security, scared that somehow they would see it in your face. That you were hiding something. They didn’t even question you, waving you along while looking bored. After that, you realized they couldn’t read you at all. They simply didn’t care. So now, you hold yourself with confidence, hoping everything goes just the way you planned.

But getting here, being Joker’s accomplice, that you were still figuring out.

“Hello boys,” you say to the guards, even though they’ve seen you enough times to know the drill. They hand you the little remote, enter the code, and the door unlocks. Not a single word exchanged. You give them your best bitchy smile before walking through the doors. “Thanks.”

There Joker is, his face paint still intact, though smudged. You let out a deep sigh of relief, and while the door closes behind you, you take your seat, not exactly sure where to start. “Mr. J,” is all you can manage to get out.

Joker leans forward, dark eyes glinting. “Yes, sweets?”

You take a deep breath. “Are you ready to break out of Arkham?”

The smile on his face is like none other you’ve ever seen from him. It’s giddy, it’s dangerous, it’s thrilling. God, you love it. “Doll, that, ah, might just be one of the best things I’ve ever heard you say.”

It took you all night to think up a plan, with the little time you had. You knew you had to take advantage of just how little people cared for you, finally it was serving as a positive. You’d racked your brain, setting up a giant piece of paper on your wall and drawing out the layout of Arkham. You’d marked where the guards would be, how they’d move, the security cameras and alarms scattered around the building. It had all looked like a mess at first. A puzzle you wouldn’t be able to put together. Yet the more you thought about it, the more you realized you were thinking too much about how to perfectly escape and not how to rely on your own strengths. Not only could you fly under the radar, but you were light on your feet, had learned a few tips from Joker on weaponry, and the only people who (mostly) respected you in Arkham were your patients.

You’d not gotten any sleep but it was worth it as you pieced everything together. The main part of your plan did not necessarily involve high level theatrics like J, but Arkham was in for one hell of a ride.

Reaching up into your hair, you pull out a hair pin, reaching over and grabbing Joker’s wrist. “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” you say, starting on attempting to unlock the cuffs. Joker’s lesson was somehow still fresh in your mind but it wasn’t an easy task. “I’m going to press the button on my remote that will alert the two guards outside the door to come in. We’ll be standing on either side of the door, and we’ll need to take them both out.” To your surprise, the handcuffs unlock with a small click, and you beam as the cuffs fall away.

Joker lifts his hand, moving his wrist, which is partially bruised from the cuffs. “And what about the other layers of security?”

“There’s two layers of security. That was the tricky part, but I’ve talked to a few of my patients and they’ve agreed to… start a ruckus as a distraction. As long as most guards are occupied with the patients, the ones out there won’t have backup. We can knock them out easily.”

He smacks his mouth. “It all sounds too easy.”

You move to his other wrist, pushing the hair pin into the cuff. “I know, but it’s not gonna be easy. Things are going to go wrong but we’ve gotta try.” Again, with a bit of a struggle, the cuffs pull open with a satisfying click. You look down at his ankles, grateful that it seems he hasn’t been cuffed there. “You’re free.”

He stands up, stretching himself out, and you watch with earnestness as he groans and cracks his knuckles. “Not just yet, dolly. Got that remote handy?”

You grab the remote from your purse before tossing the purse to the side. You won’t be needing that anymore. “Got it.” As you stare down at the remote, everything hits you way too fast, like a mallet to the chest. Your breathing falters, your heartbeat speeding up with a rapid bump bump bump-. It’s not that you’re scared, not necessarily, but you’re scared that you’ll fail both you and Joker. You’re not J. You don’t know how to do this shit. “I…”

Everything goes blurry and it takes you a second to realize Joker has moved in front of you. He places his hands on your shoulders, bending slightly to look you right in the eye. “You’ve got a sharp mind, dolly. I, ah, know you wouldn’t fail,” he says, an odd reassurance but it works, and you can feel your breathing go a bit steadier. Then you realize how close the Joker is. He’s touching you, no cuffs, no table between you, no barriers. He’s right in front of you, all of him. “We’re getting out of here.”

“Right,” you mumble, straightening yourself. Much to your disappointment, he drops his hands from you, moving towards the door. You suppose it’s now or never. With a shaky breath, you follow after him, moving to the opposite side of the door. Now, the both of you stand on either side, prepared for whatever comes your way. “Ready?” you ask him.

He nods. “Ready, Doc.”

You press the green button.

The both of you press your backs to the wall as you hear the door click open. It’s far too early into the session for you to be leaving, so the guards must know something is wrong. The first guard walks in, the door swinging open so that it blocks the view of J, while you hold your breath to keep quiet. The guard doesn’t notice you, and his mouth drops open as he sees the table empty. He draws his gun, holding it out. “What the fu-“

Springing into action, Joker grabs the guard from behind, picking him up and throwing him across the room. The guard screams, his gun flying away from him as he hits the floor. In one quick swoop, Joker grabs the gun off the floor and jams the butt of it into the guard’s head, just as the other guard runs inside the room, already firing shots. J made it look so easy, but this other guy is your problem. Filled with a sudden adrenaline, you come up behind him, kicking him forward. You’re not the strongest, so he only stumbles, immediately whipping around to try and shoot you. Combat certainly isn’t your strong suit, not yet, but you can move exceptionally well. You sidestep him as he tries to ram the gun into your stomach, and you opt to knee him in the groin. He groans and tries to shoot you again, and you squeal as the bullets pierce the walls. Thank god the room is soundproof otherwise the guards outside would have come running in. From the corner of your eye, you catch Joker watching you. He’s holding the gun. He could shoot the guy easily but he doesn’t. He wants you to take the guard down.

“Bitch,” the guard mutters, opting to try and throw himself on top of you just for you to dodge him again, lifting your leg and giving him a good knock to the ribs. He cries out, and as he tilts to the side, you give him a good punch to the temple. With a sick pleasure, you watch as he collapses to the floor, eyes wide open, barely breathing. Quickly, you grab his gun, not wanting to take any chances.

You look up at Joker, who’s smiling as he watches you catch your breath, gripping the gun in your hand. “Impressive, doll. Though, ah, you definitely need to work on your skills.”

“You’re the one who gave me a night to think of this,” you grumble, and he chuckles. “Wasn’t exactly able to take a defense class.”

“I’ll teach ya.”

Suddenly, the room begins to glow red, sirens blaring that make your bones vibrate. You look at him in panic, he looks at you with excitement. Clearly, you both have very different definitions of fun. The sirens aren’t for you though, the Arkham security team doesn’t like to cause commotion for just a single patient causing mayhem. The patients must have started a ruckus, whether it be a riot or starting a fight with one another, you hadn’t gone into the details. You just told them to be distracting.

You tilt your head towards the door. “Coming?”

“You go first, doll.”

You move ahead, prying the door open. Two more guards stand in the room, talking in hushed whispers beneath the blare of the siren. They don’t even notice you as you hold out the gun, firing into one guard’s shoulder and immediately spinning and shooting the other one in the hand. The guard whose hand you shot drops to the floor, their gun hitting the ground alongside them, and you quickly move forward and kick it. But as you kick the gun, a bullet flies out in front of you, nearly grazing your nose, and you spin around, the guard who you shot on the shoulder aiming his gun right at you. Fuck. You tense as his finger moves to pull the trigger again but before he can move any farther a bullet digs into his side and then one into his chest and he goes limp.

You turn to see Joker huffing with the gun in his hand still smoking. “Doll, you’ve got a lot to learn. You’re not even-“ He turns and shoots the other guard in the chest “-getting in good shots. You’re leaving yourself vulnerable. Gotta make sure you get em’ where they can’t shoot back.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, suddenly feeling embarrassed. You didn’t expect to be this unprepared.

Seeing your expression, Joker falters a bit. “No apologies. I’ve told you, it, uh, doesn’t mean anything to me. It’s just a word.” He comes up to you and nudges you with his shoulder. “C’mon. Last room of guards before we have to run, right?”

“Right.”

“Well then,” he says, pointing to the door with his gun. “You first.”

This time, you don’t want to screw things up. You put the gun behind your back, pulling the door open with your other hand and entering the final room. This room has a security camera in the corner, so you don’t want to go in all guns blazing. You have an idea, and with the gun, gesture for Joker to stay hidden. You hope that’s what your gun waving conveys anyways. Three guards turn to look at you, the ones that greeted you when you first came in, two men and a woman. They’re all masked but you can make out the slight outline of their face beneath the face shield.

The woman runs forward, no gun drawn, leaving it still hanging at her hip. “Miss l/n, what happened?” She tries to crane her neck to see behind you but you’ve inched the door closed enough so she can’t see too much on the other side. “What happened with the nutbag? Are the guards attending to him?”

You nod rapidly, trying to look like you’re startled. Your acting skills might need some touching up, another thing to work on. “Yes, I- I just wasn’t feeling very comfortable… Felt like I needed to get out of there.”

The woman snorts. “Alright, ma’am. Well, is there anything you need from us? Some other whackos are causing a disturbance.”

“Yes, I, um-“ You pull out your gun. “I need you to step aside and let us through.” You slam the barrel into her stomach, sending her flying backwards, and in one fluid motion you shoot the security camera in the corner and then train your gun on one of the other guards. You can sense Joker step out from behind you, shooting the other guard before he can even lift his own gun. The guard you’ve trained your gun on aims his gun right back at you. “You’re gonna let us go, ain’tcha?” you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. You have to remain confident. “Or else this bullet is going in your head, right, Mr. J?” you say, looking at Joker. If you’re gonna be a villain to these people, might as well play the part.

Joker nods, mimicking your stance and pointing his gun at the guard. “Whaddya say, doll, what should we do if he, uh, refuses to listen?”

You tighten your finger on the trigger. “I can think of a few things.”

The guard drops his gun, raising his hands in surrender. It sends warmth through your chest. Even if it's sickly satisfying. You feel proud. “Okay, okay,” he blubbers, looking between them both. “Please just don’t kill me, I’ll let you go, please.”

Joker giggles. “How generous, you know, normally I’d use you to get out of this place but I don’t think we need the extra weight.” Joker shoots the man in his left hand, bam, then once in the other, bam. “Looks like you won’t be able to do much! Buh-bye!” The man faints immediately.

Seeing Joker at work, this sinister side of him you’ve only seen on the screen, makes you shiver, and your grip on the gun only tightens, knuckles going white. “The uniform. Take his uniform.”

Joker pouts at you. “Aw, it ain’t even my color.”

“J,” you warn.

“Kiddingggg, doll. Why so serious?” Grabbing the man, Joker strips him of his uniform roughly, getting each piece off before stripping out of his own clothes. Your cheeks turn pink and it all happens so fast before you can even think to turn your head and give him privacy. He pulls his shirt up over his head, chest in full display. The first thing that catches your eyes are all the scars and bruises littering his stomach, pink and jagged, scars you want to trace beneath your fingertips. He’s surprisingly toned, just like his arms. Not muscular exactly, but strong looking. Before you can get a better look, he pulls on the guard’s black undershirt, then fastens on the bulletproof vest. When he catches you staring, he grins. “Enjoying the show?”

You turn your head as he kicks off his pants, though you can still see him in your peripheral, throwing on the black cargo pants the guard had donned. “No,” you lie.

“And, are you, uh, gonna be gracing us with a costume change as well?”

You bite back a smile. “No.”

“Pity.”

When he’s finally done, you turn around just as he puts on the helmet. You don’t like that it’s hiding his face from you but you can still see his scarred smile if you look hard enough. “Lookin’ good, soldier,” you tease, saluting him.

His lips twist into a smirk. “Lucky I like givin’ orders. Let’s move.”

“Okay, J, for this part, you’ve gotta follow me. I’ll run up ahead and lead you down to where we need to go, you gotta take out anyone you can. Got it?”

“Let’s see if we die or not, shall we?”

“You could try and be positive .”

You open the door, poking your head out to look around, and shit, it’s chaos out there, guards running back and forth, clearly busy with whatever the patients started. You can hear screams, banging, and laughter beneath the sound of the still screeching sirens. The place still glows a flashing red. You point to the right, down a long hallway. “This way!” you shout, running towards a set of doors at the every end of the hall. Arkham is a bit of a labyrinth but you know it well. Down that hallway leads to another hall which leads to more doors which then, finally, leads to the staff wing of Arkham. It’s where the back exit/entrance is. And also where you’ve parked your getaway vehicle.

You don’t wait for Joker, but you can hear his steps behind you, the combat boots he stole pounding on the floor. Nobody seems to notice either of you at first, or they’re too busy to even give it any mind. You know eventually someone will run past Joker’s conference room and realize he’s not inside. His room empty. All traces of him gone. But you hope you’ve bought at least a bit of time.

As you run, more guards run past you, and you’re nearly knocked off course as one bumps your shoulder. You keep steady on your feet though. Thank goodness for all those gymnastics lessons. The only time you glance over your shoulder is to make sure Joker is behind you before you push through the doors. Once you see him in all his suited up glory, you carry on through the doors, Joker just a step behind. “To the right again,” you yell. There’s less guards down here, but that means even more likely you’ll be caught. Already, you can see them turn to you, wondering what the hell you’re doing running off with one of the guards close behind. As the two of you run, one of the guards turns their attention to you. “Hey! What are you two doing?” the guard barks, running up in front of you. “The lady has a gun!”

You could probably give them an excuse that you’re running away from the danger but you feel too angry. “Running to safety, dumbass!” you say, using the gun like a hammer and hitting them on the head like a game of whack-a-mole. That was a hell of a lot more fun than shooting a gun. As the guard crumples to the floor, at least five other guards take notice, and you have to quickly jump over the guard’s unmoving body to run as fast as you can through the doors. You can hear gunshots explode all around you, it’s like a miracle you’re not hit, and you can tell which gunshots come from the guards and which from J. But before you know it, every single one of them falls flat on the floor. “Nice one, J,” you say, and he cuts up ahead of you, opening the door for you.

“Ladies first,” he says.

“So gentlemanly.” You shoot out ahead of him. Now you’re in the staff hallway, lined with doors which leads to locker rooms and places to conduct meetings. At the very end of the hall is the exit. You’d be jumping for joy if it wasn’t for the fact that any second more guards would be chasing after you.

You grab his arm, pulling him down the hall, running faster than you ever have in your entire life. “Exit this way!” you scream through the chaos, heading into the “staff only” area of the building. Looming ahead of you, just down the hall of rooms and lockers, is the staff exit, leading to the back end of Arkham. You look over to Joker. “You ready?”

Joker moves his arm away from you, instead grabbing onto your hand with his own free one. “As I’ll ever be.”

The two of you barrel down the hall, practically slamming into the exit doors, desperately tugging them open. There doesn’t seem to be many people around except for a few guards lining the outside, and Joker moves to take care of them as you yank him towards your car. Well, your stolen car. You weren’t gonna risk coming in your own vehicle. “Here,” you say, pointing to a black car in front of you. Letting go of J’s hand, you stuff yourself into the driver's seat, and Joker shoots at another guard before cramming himself into the passenger seat. “Drive,” he yells, and you grab the keys from your pocket, turn them in the key hole, and slam on the pedal. He throws off his mask, tossing it in the back seat. “Faster!”

As you get to driving, you remember the final bits of your plan. The part you’re most proud of. “Hey, J, wanna hear what other distraction I planned?” you yell over the roar of the engine, as you swerve around the parking lot.

“Whaddisit?”

“Gas! The same kind they might have used on you. Rigged it all up on my own. The patients should be all rounded up in their cells by now and the guards? They’re getting knocked out cold!”

You have to focus, but you turn towards Joker, your heart swelling in your chest when he looks impressed. His eyes are wide as he pulls down the window and looks back at Arkham as you pump it straight out of the parking lot, taking down the small security gate. In your rear view mirror, you can see green explosions of gas within the windows. If all worked well, only the guards should be getting knocked out about now, leaving no one to come after you. Police will be on their way, but that at least gives you a bit more time and them a distraction. Plus, they aren’t sure what they’re looking for, no clue what car or who helped Joker escape, not until they can wake the guards.

Now, you realize, you can’t just go back to your apartment. It’s too risky. You look at J as you slow the car, trying to blend in with the rest of Gotham traffic. You failed to plan this far. “J, I don’t know where to go now.”

“I do,” he says, leaning over, making sure not to put too much weight on you or crush you as he takes hold of the wheel. “Just pump the gas, doll, I’ll get us somewhere safe.”

It sounds like a horrible idea, but you nod. You’d make it work. “Okay,” you say, and as the light turns green, you hit the gas. It’s scary as hell just controlling the gas, letting Joker swerve you both around, but you trust him. Ha, funny. You trust the Joker. He drives you towards the outer parts of Gotham, and as you enter a rather dingy residential street, he moves the car off the road. “Park it here,” he says, and you obey, pressing the brake and shifting the car into park.

“Why here?”

“I’ve got a spot around here.”

“You have an apartment?”

He snorts. “No, I’ve got a, uh, hideout spot in one of the abandoned warehouses at the outskirts of Gotham. And it wouldn’t be very wise to park right outside the entrance.”

Smart, you hadn’t thought of that. Clearly you lack experience in this realm. You grab the keys and throw open the door, Joker doing the same, and the two of you begin walking on the sidewalk, Joker taking the lead. Darkness has already set over the city, and the two of you walk beneath the light of dim street lamps. It’s cold out, and your white coat isn’t exactly meant to keep you warm, so you hug yourself to try and keep away the chill. “Is it very far?” you ask, and you realize this is the first quiet time you both have had together since escaping. You’ve been too anxious over escaping to even think about everything that’s happened. To think of how the Joker is right next to you, taking you to one of his many hideaways.

Joker shakes his head. “Not too far, doll.”

Silence settles upon you both, the two of you far too preoccupied with getting to the warehouse to say much of anything else.

As you walk, the blare of sirens starts up in the distance, and when you turn behind you, you can see police lights in the distance. You’re positive they’re not for you, not yet, but if they even caught a glimpse of the Joker, the two of you would be over. Joker knew this too, clearly, grabbing your arm and picking up his pace, practically dragging you as he began to run. Everything is a blur as the two of you fly through the streets. Even though you’re not bad at running, after a few twists and turns, your legs start to hurt, your chest feeling heavy. But Joker doesn’t stop, probably used to running from lord knows what. Before you can register anything, you’re climbing over gates and Joker pushes open the large doors of the abandoned warehouse, pulling you in and up a crumbling flight of stairs until you reach the second floor.

Finally, Joker and you stop moving, taking time to catch your breath. Fuck, everything hurts.

You gasp, throwing yourself against the concrete wall of the warehouse, sliding down until your butt hits the floor. Your chest moves rapidly up and down as you try to catch your breath. Joker crouches in front of you. “Breathe, just breathe, good girl.” He holds out his arms. “C’mere.”

Immediately, you lean forward and throw your arms around him, going limp. He stands up, taking you with him, your legs dragging lifelessly on the floor until only the tips of your toes touch the concrete. You bury your face into his shoulder, and for a second everything feels right. Finally, a quiet moment, and everything crashes down on you, every decision you’ve made. It takes a second for you to process that you’re hugging the Joker, and he’s letting you hug him back. This man, this villain you’d become infatuated with, was holding you close. You’ve imagined something like this before, even when you didn’t want to, but this is better than any of that. “We did it,” you mumble into his guard shirt, which smells like rust and gunsmoke. “We escaped.”

“You did it,” he says, and when you finally pull back to look at him, he’s smiling at you. He gently settles you back on to the floor. “They’re going to come looking for us though. We’ll need to lay low for the moment.”

“In here?” It’s strange to be so close, your arms still wrapped around his neck. “This where you usually stay?”

“I stay all over.”

“Very spacious,” you say, moving your head to look around. “Where do you sleep though? On the hard floor?”

“Chaos doesn’t sleep, darling.”

“No, but people sure do.” You tug gently on one of his locks of hair and he growls. “You need sleep.”

“Can’t sleep now. Not when we’re being pursued.” He wrinkles his nose. “This your first time being a wanted criminal?”

“Duh.”

“I really can’t believe you did it, doll. Made up a whole plan and everything and got me out of Arkham.” Much to your dismay, he moves away from you, walking to some other part of the building. You hesitantly follow after him. “We can camp out here for the night but then we’ll have to move.” In a secluded corner of the room, a moth-eaten curtain hangs from the ceiling, concealing that whole part of the room. Joker takes the curtain in his hand, then looks at you. “Course, we can’t exactly fend for ourselves without weapons, can we?”

Yanking back the curtain, on the other side is a wall full of all sorts of weapons. Guns, knives, even TNT. There’s crates full of clothes, Joker’s clothes, you assume. Some clown masks. All sorts of tools for mischief. You look at it all like a child in a candy store. “J, this is amazing. Isn’t it kind of risky keeping it locked up in here though?”

“I’ve got some goons guarding it. And nobody in Gotham comes in here anymore, I’ve made sure of it.” He shrugs. “If anyone were to find it, let em’ take it, I’d just get duplicates and use them all on the thief.”

You move forward to get a better look at everything as Joker drifts behind you. It should be scary just how much violence is here at his fingertips but know it just makes you swell inside.

“So, how about it, doll? Pick your poison,” Joker says, holding your shoulders from behind. You look over all your options. The guns weren’t exactly your style, you were better at hitting people with them than you were at shooting them. The blades looked nice, and you’d like to learn to use them, but they could only do so much. Something that did catch your eye, sticking out from the other weapons, was a mallet in the corner. It was a tad comically large, definitely not the regular kind you’d see on a construction site. You move forward, Joker moving with you, and grab the handle.

“Whaddya have this one for?” you ask.

“Uhhhh, to kill people with?”

You glare at his snarky response, though you’re still smiling. “I figured that much. Where’d you get it from though?”

“Amusement Mile.” The old, abandoned theme park towards the other end of Gotham. It’s been shut down ever since you were a child, but you remember your parents driving past it. Seeing a place that must have been so exciting and colorful look so dark and decrepit was chilling. “Found it at one of those old high striker games. Adjusted it a bit.”

Lifting it, you test the weight. It’s definitely heavy, but the weight is distributed evenly, making it easy to maneuver. You give it a quick swing, the whoosh of the mallet like music to your ears. This was what you needed. Sturdy, not too hard to wield, and perfect to pair with your swiftness. “I want this one.”

“Gonna play a game of whack-a-bat with that one?” He maneuvers in front of you, grabbing the handle of the mallet before you could give it another swing. “You can take that one. But you need a gun too. The mallets they’re, uh, too big to get around places sometimes.”

You look back at the wall and point at a small silver gun. “I’ll take that one too.”

He grins. “Are you sure you’re, ah, ready to cause some damage?”

You drop the mallet. “I’ve been ready.” All your life you’ve been pushed to the side. No, pushed to the ground. You were ready to hurt some people back. To make skyscrapers crumble and leaders fall. This anger inside you boils, and you can feel your grip tighten on the handle, envisioning every person who has wronged you.

Joker’s laugh pulls you back to reality, stepping up closer in front of you. “Calm down there, lovely. They call me the Harlequin of Hate but I think that title better suits you,” he says, cupping your chin. “My little Harlequin, partner to the Clown Prince of Crime.”

————————-

That night, you’re stuck sleeping on a mattress on the floor.

You flop down on your back, the mattress not the comfiest thing you’ve ever slept on but it works. There’s no blanket, so no way of keeping warm, and you try and shift around to find a comfortable position. Joker sits on the edge of the mattress, his knees tucked up to his chest, and it’s such an odd sight to see him so regular that you laugh. His head jerks to look at you. “Admirin’ the view?”

“Maybe,” you say, smiling as you lay on your side. “It’s just weird to see you here. Not in Arkham or fighting B-Man.”

He hums. “It ain’t everyday I bring people around ere’. At least, not like this.”

“Lucky me, huh?”

“You realize you’re in this forever now, right? There’s, uh, no goin’ back from here.”

The weight of it settles on you. “I know... I wouldn’t have gone along if I didn’t know that.”

“Well, if you wanted to go, you could go now. You could walk free, tell the cops I threatened you and made you do all this.” He looks down at his feet. “I, ah, won’t stop you.”

You’re surprised to find your eyes watering. Joker, this menace, a force to be reckoned with, was giving you the option to leave. He could be fooling you, of course, but you could tell from the way the words escaped him awkwardly, uncomfortably tender, that he meant every bit of it. He’d let you go, you could continue your regular life, maybe find a better job. But that wasn’t the point of why you freed him. You wanted to escape too, to show Gotham how corrupt it was, and you wouldn’t do that without J. “I’m not walking away,” you say back.

“You’re insane, ya know that?”

“I know.” You stare at one another in silence. Finally, you yawn. “Are you… are you gonna come to bed?” You’re not sure exactly what’s going on between you and Joker. You like him, you know that much, but how much exactly does he like you? Enough to keep you around, obviously. But to what extent did he want you around? Did he want not just your loyalty but also your affections? You were ready to give affection, but was he?

Joker shakes his head, and you feel yourself grow disappointed. “You go on, doll. I, uh, gotta keep watch.”

“Mr. J-“

“I like it when you call me that.”

“-You’ve gotta get some sleep. You’re gonna pass out without it.”

“I’ll be fine,” he grumbles. “Don’t ya get your pretty little head worried over it.”

“You’re an ass.”

Your anger only makes him smile. “If you’re so, ah, worried, then just wake up early and I’ll drift off for a bit.”

“Then that’s exactly what I’ll do,” you say, flipping over, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you ticked off. You’re not actually upset, you just wished Joker prioritized himself a bit more. That was something to deal with another day. “Goodnight, J.”

“Night, darlin’.”

That night you dream of Gotham in flames. You dream of chaos. You dream of him.

Taglist:

Taglist: @lightsabergirl / @knoepfl / @jeffswh0re / @itsmrshamilton / @heath-ledger-jokers-wife / @lolwey / @ilovetoomanymen / @amazingzou/ @ronniesweetkisser / @emberhatesthemoon

lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

#dark knight #dark knight joker #dark knight joker x reader #heath ledger joker #heath ledger joker x reader #joker x reader #ledger joker x reader #dark knight fanfic #dc joker

52 notes · View notes

aprillikesthings · 9 months ago

Text

WOO

but Glimmer and Bow chase her down. "What's going on?"

Bow: "So, why here? And how do we get out?" She-Ra: "When I broke the Sword, I thought...I thought I could make my own destiny."

Glimmer being the voice of reason for once: "what do you mean END"

Thorny vines start growing

She-Ra: "I'm losing her. I'm distracted and confused, and I'm scared."

her voice is so shaky ahhh

but also IT'S NOT TRUE but Shadow Weaver fucking said it to her and it's been eating at her and have I mentioned I'm looking forward to that piece of shit dying, like if it weren't for her Catra could be here the whole time supporting her, or at the very least Adora wouldn't be ditching even Glimmer and Bow because she's convinced she has to go fucking sacrifice herself like she's Etherian Jesus

(the irony of my saying this when I went to a Good Friday service literally six hours ago is not escaping me lol)

YOU REALLY DON'T THO

(lol Bow basically says that)

"I love you guys so much."

;_;

dude I still have twelve minutes to go on this episode and I have no idea what order shit happens in anymore or when, like there's still over 40 minutes of this show left and I can remember like three plot points wtf

ANYWAY Adora grabs the sword and there's a flash of light and she disappears

OH SHIT okay there's a bit of an earthquake and the hologram disappears: Glimmer and Bow are in a big empty room of the Crystal Castle. So then where's Adora??

noooo

also the room starts to turn that eerie bright green

(So true story: aaaaages ago I saw a local production of the opera Faust, and the Devil was always back-lit by the fluorescent green of an old-school photocopy machine. I've always liked that She-Ra uses the exact same color for Horde Prime's shit.)(also, I sobbed all the way through The Jewel song, way up in my nose-bleed seats surrounded by college students who were very much not actually watching the damn thing lolol)

OKAY so Catra went to the rebellion hideout shouting for Adora and fucking Shadow Weaver replies >:(

watching her face go from anxious to OH FUCK YOU was p satisfying

wait is this bitch drunk. can they show that in a y7-rated show.

oh myg od she DOES SOUND A LITTLE DRUNK LOLOL it's just barely, like they could plausibly deny it, but any adult watching this would know, she is juuuuust barely slurring her words

Catra: "What do you mean, she's not here? Where is she?" Shadow Weaver: "She's gone to the Heart of Etheria to free the magic,"

"If you are still so selfish as to try and stop--"

hell yeah go Catra

"Prime is doing something to the planet. He's infecting it. He's going for the Heart."

Clone: "The last of Etheria's security protocols have been breached, Lord Prime. Planetary acquisition is at 20 percent."

OH NO okay Entrapta is surrounded by that green light and then ends up on Horde Prime's ship

"You're just in time to witness the end of your world"

oh that's definitely Hordak, gotta be

on the planet, the rest of the Rebellion is still fighting--but the moment they destroy a bunch of clones, a shit-ton more appear. But they just stand there?

Water washes up to their feet. Perfuma has the same reaction I do: "Oh no." Yeah. They all end up ankle deep in water and then electrically shocked.

and that's why

he's a huge projection of some sort

something something joke about the Rapture

I guess you can see it from like, everywhere

oh god he drags poor Entrapta into view by her hair, and she says "I'm sorry" in the most sad voice ever. And it's not her fault!!

"Your She-Ra has abandoned you." NO, SHE HASN'T

"All that is left for your world is a terrible and eternal night." and he disappears

Catra: "Take us to Adora. Now!" Shadow Weaver: "She's too far away by now. We'd never reach her in time."

Shadow Weaver: "It doesn't work that way, Catra!" Catra: "You've done it before! When you abandoned me in the Fright Zone. And you've always been able to track us our whole lives."

Shadow Weaver pulls a little vial out of her pocket. "Come here."

Catra takes her hand.

Glimmer and Bow are still yelling for Adora and running through the halls, but then a bit of sorcery glows on the floor, a black flame goes up, and when it dies down:

YAYYY

Shadow Weaver leans on the wall, this clearly was exhausting for her. (well that's what she gets for drinking!!)

Catra: "Where's Adora?" Glimmer, sobbing: "She left us!"

okay Catra's immediate freak-out is a bit understandable under the circumstances

Bow: "Catra, what is going on?" Catra: "Horde Prime is onto you. He's hacking into the planet. All of this is [she waves at the green] is from him" Bow: "He's gonna take the Heart." Catra: "That's not all. He's got Entrapta." Bow: "If Prime has Entrapta, that means the other princesses are still chipped. We have to get back up there." Glimmer: "We can't just leave Adora!"

she's clenching that fist so hard it's shaking

;_;

(yeah I remember that. "you look out for me, and i look out for you. nothing really bad can happen as long as we're together." *sobbing*)

Oh man Catra gets this expression of resolve. "It's time I made good on that."

;_;

AAHHHHH IT'S SO SWEET

awwww

Melog stays with Glimmer and Bow, who teleport to Horde Prime's thing on Etheria, Bow says he's going to help with cutting off the signal and Glimmer's going to help the Princesses

AND GLIMMER SHOVES HER FACE into Bow's chest and says "I love you." Bow says it back. It's so cute omg

awwww it's so chaste

HIT THE IMAGE LIMIT AGAIN gotta reblog

oh god oh god

HEY GUESS WHAT I'm down to the last two episodes of She-Ra in my rewatch

On a related note, should you desire to read them all starting from s1ep1 for some godforsaken reason, here's the link. Please be amused at my claims that I would not do this for every episode and my repeated attempts to cut back on how much I copy/paste dialogue and/or explain the entire plot instead of just making jokes and commentary

If, somehow, you are New Here, I've been rewatching all of the 2018 She-Ra, ostensibly for fic-writing reasons as I had forgotten huge quantities of the plot. I have since become deeply obsessed, as one does.

I make a lot of adult jokes, random asides, references to other things, commentary, and a lot of cursing and crying. I love Catradora and I love Catra especially and have a tendency to add a screenshot every time they so much as look at each other. It seems silly to warn for spoilers at this point, but yeah, this is a RE-watch. It's just that I forgot a lot of it because I watched it the first time as it was coming out (pun intended). The shit I did remember is so fucking random tho lol

The last time I tried to do a two-parter in one post the number of times I had to reblog it because tumblr only allows 30 images per post got real stupid, so while I do still assume I will have to reblog multiple times per episode, I'm doing each episode separately.

HERE WE GOOOOO

s5 ep12 Heart (pt 1)

jfc i'm full of adrenaline lol

Also I have a beer, it's a citrus IPA because I live in Portland and it's required by law

(not really I just genuinely like them. that and IPA's that taste like gnawing on a douglas fir. also fruit sours.)

LOL I was so anxious I looked away from this post and consumed most of my beer this is gonna be hilarious

ALSO my goal is to finish these two episodes before the Easter Vigil service tomorrow night at 8pm

Theoretically I should be able to watch two episodes of TV in a day and a half, right? AHAHA

Bow should play Wonderwall

she always looks so soft with her hair down

but also having that thing just floating in front of your chest like that has gotta feel weird

ON A RELATED NOTE I know I made the joke in the last episode about how many people have the failsafe as a tattoo but the PROBLEM is that now I literally LIVE with a tattoo artist whose work I like--I already have two tattoos they've done, here and here, and the temptation is extremely high?? but I don't have any other obvious fandom-related tattoos (unless you count the title of a Björk song) so it feels weird to start with this one???? Like I don't have any LoTR or BBC Sherlock or SU or K/DA tattoos (to list off a bunch of fandoms I was devastatingly obsessed with at the time) so getting one for THIS fandom feels kinda weird. But like, also, if I got it kinda small on one wrist it would look kinda cool and be a nice loud DID U KNOW I'M GAY kinda thing. Gyahhh.

She's struggling to do She-Ra, and I'm sitting here YELLING because IT'S BECAUSE CATRA LEFT and UGH I want to murder Shadow Weaver

(eyyyy I won't have to, ha ha oh god)

Oh she manages to transform anyway. Without making any noise or glowing lights, just pop, She-Ra

awwww but also lol

related aside but like, every culture that figured out bows and arrows invented at least one kind of string instrument. Literally archers just fidgeting with their bows and going "oh this makes a nice sound, what if I put more strings on this thing." So many different places and cultures invented things like a guitar or like a harp or like a violin. But also I want to know who the FUCK figured out the hurdy-gurdy??? oh my god I just looked up the hurdy-gurdy and I'm cracking up because one of the earliest depictions of it is from the 1100's, in the Santiago de Compostela cathedral. A place I have been. Because I did the Camino last year.

oh right plot

I would like to take a moment and be grateful for the people who put together the transcripts on the fandom wiki for saving me typing up long bits of lore-heavy dialogue

She-Ra: "Prime is getting closer every day to figuring out how to access the Heart of Etheria. If he succeeds, he can use it to destroy worlds, galaxies, maybe even the entire universe. The Failsafe is our only chance at stopping him."

"His hold over them grows stronger every day they're chipped. If we don't free them now, we might lose them forever. Prime holds every advantage in this fight. He'll be ready for us. But we have a plan. Entrapta?" Entrapta: "I finally succeeded in cracking Prime's signal pattern. If I get access to his Spire network, I can use it to broadcast a jamming frequency that will disable all of the chips on Etheria, freeing everyone at once!" She-Ra: I need you all to get Entrapta to the Spire and keep Prime's forces distracted while she jams the signal."

"We're going to make sure that Prime can never hurt anyone ever again. We're ending this today. For good."

oh lord so Shadow Weaver is still there, sulking and looking away, and she looks over at her and starts almost losing She-Ra and being Adora again

have I mentioned how much I hate Shadow Weaver >:(

Adora goes outside...and looks around. I know who she's looking for. *sobs into a pillow*

NO. she's LOOKING for her GIRLFRIEND

I made that joke and then Glimmer literally says "Any sign of Catra?" I have to remember that at this point in the story literally everyone knows how in love they both are. Except them. Of course.

Adora: "She's not coming back." ;_;

Adora: I mean you don't have to come with me this could be dangerous Bow: the fuck are you talking about of course we're going

And she turns into She-Ra again, roll intro

Okay so they go to the Crystal Castle thing where Light Hope was

it doesn't look so good

but also that's creepy

anyway they tell the hologram (not Light Hope, the other one) that they're looking for the Heart of Etheria and that they're Friends of Mara. She-Ra gets scanned and then a door opens into a passageway. Bow and Glimmer take her hands and they walk into the hall but:

she's still looking for someone

I have to deal with another episode and change of her looking for Catra ghghggh this hurts meeeee

OH SO OF COURSE they literally switch to showing us Catra

bahaha okay so she sits up and looks behind her kind of sadly, and Melog just skids to a stop so hard they throw Catra off

And Melog looks at Catra like she's fucking nuts. Catra's like, wtf is wrong with you??? and Melog looks back like BITCH WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU??? Catra what did you think was going to happen when you got a therapy animal that can literally read your moods. Melog knows you're being a dumbass and has NO reason to pretend to believe your surface "I don't give a shit" act!!

Melog does airplane ears at that. And then just pounces Catra.

Time for pressure! Just like a real therapy animal. Big weighted blanket!

oh shit I forgot about this bit

Catra just immediately starts crying.

Catra: "You saw what happened! Adora chose Shadow Weaver, okay? Not me!"

*sobs into hands* you useless fucking dumbass that is your abysmally low self-esteem talking literally every living semi-sentient thing in the galaxy knows Adora's in love with you EXCEPT YOU

I can get frustrated with AU fics where these two both pull this "but what if she doesn't like me back" thing for ages while everyone around them is face-palming in frustration, but like. You have to admit. It's accurate to canon.

(It's also accurate to lesbians in general, lbh. Either fucking on the first date or doing the "but what if she's not into me" thing for months-to-years. Sometimes both, including in some of the fics I've written, heyooooo.)

Melog purrs and licks her face. A clone approaches and they both go invisible and then follow it.

MEANWHILE

the rest of the rebellion is attacking Horde Prime's ship thing

Wrong Hordak helps Entrapta get into the spire. The whole point of this fight (which I didn't bother screenshotting lol) is to give Entrapta time to disconnect everyone's chips from Horde Prime.

Lol once inside Entrapta does another one of those "holy shit this stuff looks so cool...OMG FOCUS" things

Back at the Crystal Castle Glimmers like "omg are you scared" and She-Ra says "No, I just hope this works." Liar.

Bow: "It'll be okay. And when we get back, it'll be a whole new world."

this poor girl. she's so heartbroken.

(meanwhile the plot of my fic-in-progress is literally them breaking up. (not forever.) but it's hilarious of me to get SO UPSET over this scene when I'm going to force them to repeat it. like it's a mutual decision in my fic but it doesn't make it hurt any less.)

PFFT I unpaused it, and IMMEDIATELY:

I just said OH SHIT out loud lol

oh god I saw someone talking about this in a youtube video right around when I started my rewatch

It's a hologram, she's not actually there. And Catra goes through multiple other ages, including her kid self, being chipped on Horde Prime's ship, when they were Horde cadets, etc; before going back to looking like she does now.

Adora's sharp little gasp of shock here

Adora goes to touch Catra's hand and the hologram disappears

(good lord she's beautiful here)

And I think I agree with the youtube video: Adora knew she was upset about Catra running off, but this is the moment she specifically realizes she's in love, and it breaks her heart into tiny pieces.

(Hah, I actually say a very similar thing in part of my fic that they mention in the video--that previous to this, she refused to let herself want this or even think about it. "I didn't even realize this was something I could want.")

BUT ALSO so like is this a remnant of Light Hope's programming that tortured them with childhood flashbacks in season one (in order to drive them apart) or what

LOL NO

I know I made this joke before but I'm suing Nate for emotional damages

She-Ra: "We need to be careful. It looks like this place can still project memories."

oof

A still-invisible Catra follows the clone to where Horde Prime's ship is and is visibly terrified and shaking. A clone who might be Hordak turns around with that white in his eyes that means Prime is using him to see, and Catra just tries to be quiet and not move but she's obviously triggered, and I mean that in the literal PTSD sense.

Horde Prime (via Hordak?): "My brothers. The time has come at last. No longer shall She-Ra stand in my way."

oh okay so Horde Prime's actual ship is still in space (just orbiting Etheria I assume) and the planet-side thing is him speaking through one of the clones via the hive mind.

"Begin the acquisition process!"

are they just gonna straight-up drill into it?

apparently yes

the whole area lights up with that sickening green light, including all the lines that characters kept noticing on the ground that looked like some combo of circuit boards and First Ones' writing.

meanwhile, Adora keeps slipping out of being She-Ra for split seconds and is clearly stressing The Fuck Out and possibly walking in the wrong direction in her distress, only to walk into another memory/hologram.

And I've predictably hit the image limit, but 13:30 to go which is better than last night pfft okay gonna reblog

#april rewatches spop #heart pt 1

7 notes · View notes

stuckwith-harry · 3 years ago

Text

A/N: Listen, babes, I was straight up not planning on putting out fic this year, but a series of well-timed little accidents and a very sweet groupchat resulted in this flirty little guy. While I’m sorting out my organisational crisis over on Ao3, I’ll put it here, and now I will go and agonise over the 23 other writing projects on my desk, cool? Cool. I’ve no real content warnings, it’s only banter, although the banter is not what the kids might call family-friendly.

look at what a heart can do / i’m starting to get to you

Silence has begun to come easily.

They’ve opened the window over Ginny’s bed, and cool late-summer air comes spilling in like handfuls of water, moving through the loose shirt she’s slipped into. She’s sitting cross-legged on her mattress, her back to the window, her knees bumping into Harry’s legs, her fingers drumming on his knee in a slow, tipsy rhythm, lilting and lazy like the pitter-patter on her windowpane. Afterwards, she can’t say whether a few minutes or an hour passed this way, only that it was time spent simply sitting and breathing and shifting beside each other, exchanging glances like secret handshakes, knowing grins.

Harry is flipping through the Quidditch magazine that usually resides on Ginny’s nightstand, his thumb absent-mindedly scratching at his bottom lip, his bare back leaning against her headboard. His face is softer without his glasses – like she’s catching him asleep – and still covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Every once in a while, he turns the journal over to point something out to her, like –

“Look at this one.”

So Ginny leans over the open page and peers at the model he’s indicating. “D’you think it’s weird that they’ve got it listed as a Chaser broom?”, she asks quietly, meeting his eye. “Sure, it’s speedy, but look at the inertia, that’s a better fit for a –”

“Beater”, they say in unison, grinning, and settle back into silence. Outside, the night is complete and starlit, the rain showers are warm and brief, and time is passing at a languid pace, not in any hurry to end.

Ginny finally gives up on her novel after she makes it to the bottom of the page for the third time in a row without any of it sticking, resigning herself to the fact that her thoughts are elsewhere. More precisely, they’re stretched out next to her in a pair of boxershorts, squinting at a line-up of the most anticipated broomstick releases of September 1998.

She rests her chin on her hand, her elbow on her knee, quietly looking over at him. His hair, she thinks. His hair is impossible.

He notices.

“What?”, he says softly, gazing back.

Ginny hums. “I have a question.”

Harry raises an eyebrow.

“Was tonight the first time you did … that?”, she asks.

He suddenly takes great interest in the pattern of Ginny’s quilt, picking at a piece of lint she’s pretty sure is imaginary. She thinks she can see a flush creeping up his neck, too.

“Which part?”, he asks, then, making a face: “Pretend I didn’t say that. The answer’s yes either way – yeah. Yes. I figured it was fairly obvious.”

“It wasn’t, actually”, Ginny says, “that’s why I was curious.”

This does nothing to lessen the way his face is heating up, but with the way he’s grinning to himself, she decides she needn’t feel too sorry for him. “I’m gonna … take that as a compliment, then.”

Ginny grins back. “Oh, you should. It is.”

He clears his throat, not quite meeting her eye. “Have … you?”

She shakes her head, shrugging.

“Huh.”

She squints, smile intact. “Surprised, are you?”

His face hovers in a place between trepidation and something that looks a little like bashfulness, but isn’t. It’s funny, she thinks, he should look bashful. Not very long ago, he would have, but now … she turns her head, searching his features. There’s newness in every slight movement of his mouth. In the intensity with which he looks at her.

“No – and it wouldn’t matter”, he starts, with that bout of sincerity he gets on occasion that makes Ginny weak in the knees. “You just, uhm …”

Ah, she thinks, there is it. Bashfulness in heaps.

“You were good at it”, he says, sounding breathless.,

“Well, thanks”, she says, feeling inexplicably warm. “So were you.”

He squints at her, then looks back at Broomsticks Monthly. “Alright, try not to sound too surprised.”

“I’m not surprised you’re good at it!”, she laughs. “I just wasn’t expecting to, ah – score a goal – the first time we did that.”

Harry peers up at her, the colour of his face roughly resembling their old Gryffindor Quidditch uniforms. Ginny wiggles an eyebrow.

“When would I ever have – who would I have done anything with?”

“You’re telling me you and Cho never reconnected in an abandoned broom closet after things went downhill?”

He seems simply stunned at the idea. “No. Definitely not.”

“It’s not a ridiculous assumption”, Ginny says, amused.

“Her and I only – come to think of it, I’m pretty sure we only kissed the one time. And she was – well, sad all the time, wasn’t she, and I was –”

“Seething all the time”, she says cheerfully. “Fair enough.”

He gazes back at her, visibly mulling something over.

“You and Dean never did anything?”

Ginny throws a pillow at him.

Harry catches.

“You needled me too!”

Which Ginny, unfortunately, cannot argue with.

“No, we really didn’t.” She watches his face for a reaction, for a hint of relief, or smugness maybe, but to his credit, there is none. “I think he wanted to, though.”

Harry makes a face.

“Alright, relax”, she grins. “I’d spare you the details, but there quite literally aren’t any.”

He slouches back, propped up on one elbow buried deep in her pillow, the deep orange glow from the lamp on her nightstand casting his face in soft shadows, in warm hues. Ginny continues to watch him. He’s squinting into Broomsticks Monthly again, but his eyes are not moving along the page, so she knows he noticed.

After a moment, he sighs.

“You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

Ginny merely hums in response, and it dissolves into ripples of soft laughter at his expression. There it is again. That newness in his face.

“You … made it pretty easy.”

“Hm?”

“Your face”, he says finally, with a quiet rasp in his voice that tugs pleasantly at Ginny’s insides, “is … extremely readable. It wasn’t that hard to figure out what was … working for you.”

Ginny stares at him, stunned, and he at least has the good sense to look a little abashed.

“Your face is extremely readable”, she mutters.

Harry grins. “It’s not a bad thing, it’s a good thing.”

“No, I mean it”, she says, throwing her head back, peering down at him with a grin. “You were pretty readable too. Very transparent.”

“I’m just saying, it wasn’t all me.”

In the moment’s silence that follows, while they effortlessly reassemble their limbs, Ginny’s eyes come to linger on the long-abandoned camp bed on the floor beside her bed, whose only function now is to keep up the ruse for her parents’ sake. She grins: he’s been sleeping in her bed since he came to stay in her room instead of Ron’s.

They’ve been sleeping with each other for almost a week.

“You make that easy”, she tells him lightly. She makes a purposeless dog-ear in her book, shuffling around on her mattress, her body bumping into his with such ease she might as well have never known anything else. “Maybe it’s not … entirely accidental. It’s easy with you.”

She hears his slow exhale, watches the way his grin softens into a smile. Even under the loose-fitting shirt, she feels herself growing warm, even though it falls off her shoulders like a circus tent, the shoulder seams comically misplaced on her upper arms.

It’s as good a moment as any to remember that the t-shirt is Harry’s, technically. It makes her feel naked in a wholly new way; only she realises she doesn’t mind.

She lets out a fluttering breath. “Interesting. I’m usually the one making you blush.”

“Well”, he says softly, “it looks good on you.”

It’s unclear if he’s talking about his t-shirt or the colour of her face, and it doesn’t matter much, it makes warmth pool in Ginny’s belly all the same. For a moment there, she’s the girl with her elbow in the butter dish all over again – if nothing else, she can imagine their faces glowing in identical shades of pink, bright like the carnations growing in the flower boxes on the Burrow’s windowsills.

What never presents itself – what doesn’t come back – is the urge to hastily pull back into her shell, like a little snail prodded by an overzealous finger. So he continues to look, and she continues to let him, the fluttering in her belly light and pleasant like the first sip of a fizzy drink.

That much is new.

#hinny #hp #fanfiction #i forgot if i had a fic tag for mine lol #jessie writes #there we are

130 notes · View notes

teawaffles · 4 years ago

Text

The Conspiratorial Bullet: Chapter 8 / End

“Hey, Helena. In the middle of the game, you suddenly went along with that guy and disappeared — where on earth did you go?”

“Hmm…… Explaining it would be a real pain. Just imagine what you like.”

The girl groaned in annoyance. “……Can’t you just tell me? Meanie.”

After the game had ended with the blue team’s victory, as he observed Helena and her former friend’s conversation from a distance, Bond spoke to William.

“Those two sure have gotten closer, haven’t they?”

William answered with a smile.

“Perhaps it’s like how after rain, comes fair weather.” [1]

“Though for the two of them, it must’ve been like a bolt from the blue, huh.”

After that modest exchange of proverbs, Bond wondered aloud.

“Moran-kun and I haven’t heard the details, but for now, can we consider the case closed without incident?”

“Yep; the perpetrator has been caught, and the threat to Helena and her family has been effectively eliminated.”

This time, the plan had been set up after William and the others leveraged their intelligence network to identify the criminal, and then shared the information they’d obtained with Helena. From his profile of Andy, William had read the man’s every move, then intentionally left him at large in order to catch him in the act — that was the entire flow of it. Hence, apart from the key players involved, the others had been told nothing more than that they would be “using the game to capture the criminal”.

William had put an end to it all. After hearing his report, Bond seemed satisfied.

“That’s great. To be honest, ever since I got caught up in the game, I’ve been thinking a little — that maybe, I haven’t actually done anything useful today.”

“Far from it; on the contrary, it’s because you took the game so seriously, that Andy dropped his guard and carried out his plan to frame Mr Kevin.”

“——So you’re saying the match between me and the old geezer was well and truly a serious one.”

Placing a hand on William’s shoulder, Moran joined the conversation. Behind him stood Jack and Albert.

Jack sighed in consternation.

“You’re quite persistent, you know. It was just one hit.”

Yet Moran was undeterred.

“Still, it’s a fact that I scored that hit. If it was a real bullet, you would’ve been a goner.”

“Wasn’t it because it wasn’t live that it managed to hit me……?”

Jack smiled wryly, and Albert spoke up in a cool voice.

“Furthermores, it’s an undeniable fact that you got hit right after. Isn’t that right, Colonel?”

“Ugh.”

Albert had been spot on, and the corners of Moran’s mouth twitched as he fell silent.

Having watched their exchange with amusement, William thanked them once again.

“I’m truly grateful to all of you for lending a hand today. Truthfully, it pained me to have involved everyone in catching just one criminal.”

Hearing that, Moran clapped him on the shoulder.

“As I said, we had fun, so it’s alright. In fact, it’s been a long time since we’ve fought one another all out, so I’m grateful for that.”

“Indeed: we’re also pleased to have had a showdown with Colonel Moran.”

“Now hold on just a minute. Don’t think you’ve won just because you caught me off guard once.”

Even now, Moran was still snapping at Albert. Seeing that, Jack spoke up in a grave tone.

“On the battlefield, even the slightest carelessness will cost you your life, Moran.”

“I’m well aware of the basics! Don’t give me those useless platitudes!”

Just like that, William and the others were engaged in an amicable conversation, when the parent and child who’d been the central figures of this case called out to them.

“Everyone: thank you very much for today.”

Having wrapped up her conversation with her friend, Helena thanked them in a light-hearted tone that was distinctively hers. Continuing from where she’d left off, Kevin stood beside his daughter as he gave the entire Moriarty household a deep bow.

“How can I ever thank you enough for this……?”

On behalf of all of them, Albert spoke.

“We have simply acted according to our sense of justice. In particular, Mr Kevin, I would like to apologise for not informing you of our plans.”

Kevin hastily shook his head.

“No no no; Lord Albert, you have nothing to feel guilty about: you all saved Helena’s and my lives.”

“That’s right — we’re really grateful for that. We’ll probably never forget this kindness.”

Upon hearing that inappropriate cockiness, Kevin admonished her at once.

“What’s this pomposity towards the people who’ve helped you? Also, you should be saying ‘definitely’ rather than ‘probably’……. Apologies; to have such an unpleasant exchange at this time…”

He bowed repeatedly as he said that. But suddenly, as he remained in a bow, Kevin looked up and asked a question.

“……Come to think of it, what happened to that man? It seems the other participants haven’t noticed anything at all.”

He was concerned about Andy Krueger’s fate. He had punched the living daylights out of the man, so much so he’d been knocked unconscious — that much Kevin himself knew, but as William and the others had taken care of the aftermath, he hadn’t heard the details of what happened after that.

“He’s now on one of our carriages, with Louis and Fred keeping an eye on him,” replied William. “We felt there was no need to blindly call in the police and spoil the fun.”

“I see……. Then, will he be taken to the police after this?”

Handing a criminal over to the police. That was what common sense dictated, but William deliberately tilted his head with a troubled expression.

“As much as we would like to, ……the nobility of this country wield an outsize influence, hence there is a concern that even judicial rulings will be twisted in their favour. If that were to happen, both of you may end up in harm’s way again. As such, we shall engage in careful negotiations, with the aim of preventing such things from ever happening again.”

A calm smile rose to William’s face, and unconsciously, Kevin gulped.

Normally, negotiating with a criminal outside the authority of the state would be out of the question. But William’s smile held a power that seemed almost divine, erasing all such doubts.

How would they deal with Andy after this? It was probably wiser not to probe into that. Anyway, it was true that they had saved both their lives. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.

The unfathomable nature of these young men made Kevin’s blood run cold. Then, William changed the topic.

“So, what are your plans from here on?”

Kevin lowered his gaze a little, and met his daughter’s eyes as she stood beside him.

“Just like before, I’m going to spend time with my children. As for the plans for the new store…… To be honest, I’m worried about going it alone, but I intend to do my best anyway.”

“Hmm — I have no idea how to manage a store, but my brother and I will be supporting Mr Kevin together. Even though I don’t look like it, I’m good with housework and stuff, you know.”

“……Is that so?”

At their words, William nodded, and a strange silence settled between the two parties.

Kevin and Helena were trying to appear relieved at having overcome great danger, but even so, it must’ve been an immense shock to learn that a person important to both of them had been murdered. That emotional wound had yet to heal, and now that fact revealed itself in the form of silence.

“U-Um……”

In a hurry, Helena tried to find the words to dispel the unpleasant atmosphere. Right then, Kevin raised his voice a little as he made an announcement.

“In any case, we’ll be alright. Somehow, I believe we’ll overcome this tragedy and move forward.”

Helena nodded along with his words, and William broke into a gentle smile.

“Indeed. I shall be praying for your family’s bright future.”

After those modest words of encouragement, William held out a clenched fist towards Kevin.

“Also, that punch was very satisfying.”

“Definitely. You socked him with all you had — I’ve seen you in a new light.”

Helena did a swift one-two as she shadow-boxed, and Kevin ruffled his hair in embarrassment.

“It was unbecoming of me. Though, I don’t regret it one bit.”

“Since you had the courage to pull that off, I’m sure you’ll do just fine from here on.”

“I’m honoured to hear that. Well then, I hope we meet again someplace else.”

As Kevin bid them farewell, Helena stood up straight and looked at William and the others in turn.

“To everyone in the Moriarty household: today, we are truly in your debt. We’ll never forget this kindness, definitely not.”

With an uncharacteristically polite tone, Helena expressed their gratitude once again, and both father and daughter left the scene with peaceful expressions.

As he sent them off, the eldest brother asked his younger sibling a question.

“——Well now, is this truly the end of it, William?”

A hint of the Lord of Crime — who was striking terror across the country — revealed itself in William’s expression as he spoke.

“Of course not: we still have the finishing touches left.”

At those words, the entire Moriarty household smiled in unison.

T/N: Helena’s story isn’t over just yet — there’s one final piece of the puzzle, and it’s a big one! Stay tuned x)

Footnotes:

[1] This is the literal translation of the proverb 雨降って地固まる — essentially, it means that good things do come out of bad things.

Translator’s notes

The Moriarty household

I’ve translated the phrase モリアーティ家 as “the Moriarty household” when it is used to address everyone in the Moriarty organisation, since “the Moriarty family” suggests that only the three brothers are being referred to.

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #the girl who sees rainbows

75 notes · View notes

heartsywritesthethings · 4 years ago

Text

Sk8: The Sleepover

Author: GA!babe

Summary: The gang’s all here for a sleepover at Reki’s! In a discussion of skate names, Reki finds himself the center of attention after getting flustered by the mere mention of the word “tickle” (2,842 words)

“Langa! Glad you came!” Reki exclaimed as he opened the door to find his best friend standing there.

And then he looked behind the boy and saw…four other people right behind him.

“Uh, what are they doing here?” Reki asked, trying not to sound too rude, but it’s not like he wanted to invite two grown men, a clown, and a literal child over to his house as well. It was just supposed to be him and Langa tonight.

“Oh, well when you told me that your mom and sister were out of town for some mother-daughter bonding, I thought it would be nice if everyone came along.” Langa said with a smile. It made Reki wonder again why that smile made his heart flip flop. This boy? The one with a pile of snow in place of a brain?

“That’s not a problem, right, Reki?” Miya asked, snaking himself around Langa’s legs and looking up at the red head with his big puppy-dog eyes.

Reki took a deep breath.

“No, of course not. Come on in,” Reki sighed and took a small step aside so everyone could walk into his house. The house that he wasn’t supposed to have anyone else in while his mother and sister were away. That one.

“Nice place you have here, Reki. I’m sure the ladies love a humble man who lives with his mom,” Joe teased on his way in, ruffling the kid’s hair.

“Just so you know, Carla said there was a 95% chance that we were seen by one of your neighbors. I hope you aren’t grounded for too long after your mother finds out,” Cherry said as he slid by.

“Thanks for telling me,” Reki whined, his shoulders slumping. Great. Now it was almost guaranteed that he would be grounded when his mom got back.

“Wait, you’re not allowed to have people over? Why didn’t you say so?” Shadow hissed, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was outside looking at him.

“Well, that’s not exactly–” Langa began.

“What kind of flowers does your mom like? I can get her a vase before she even gets home,” Shadow continued. taking out a little notepad from his pocket and waiting for a response.

“Uh, she likes lillies I think?” Reki said with a dry chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Shadow scribbled it down with a frown.

“Not exactly the best of apology flowers, but I’ll see what I can do,” the older man grumbled as he stepped into the house.

“Sorry for ruining your date night, Reki. Sleepovers are fun though. Do you think we should braid each other’s hair?” Miya said, popping a bubblegum bubble as he also walked into the house.

“Date?” Reki squeaked, his face turning a rather nice shade of pink. Miya just laughed as he skipped towards the couch.

“You will not get your little claws on my hair!” Cherry snapped from the other room.

And then he was alone with Langa. The guy he had wanted here…alone in the house.

“Sorry, was I not supposed to invite them over?” Langa asked, smiling awkwardly. Reki couldn’t help but melt just a little. How could he say no to that face?

“Ah, no, you’re fine. I just forgot to ask for them over too. I just got, uh, busy with a new…new board! Yeah! Thanks. You saved me the trouble.” Reki stammered awkwardly, shuffling on his feet. Langa smiled softly and their shoulders bumped as he stepped in.

Reki closed the door with a sigh.

This was going to be a long night.

~ ~ ~

“Alright, what are we going to watch?” Miya asked, jumping onto the couch, quickly getting comfortable against the pillow in the corner.

“Watch? This is a party, right? We drink and play games until dawn!” Joe announced, sitting down on the couch and stretching his arms high over his head.

“You’re an idiot,” Cherry huffed, looking around with a barely concealed look of disgust. He looked between the couch, chair, and love-seat, before deciding that he was perfectly fine standing right here thank you very much.

“I’m an idiot? I’m just trying to make things fun around here!” Joe exclaimed, looking around to see if anyone agreed with him.

“Did you forget how old he was? He’d get in more trouble if his mom found empty sake bodies around the house,” Shadow huffed as he took his spot next to Joe. The burly man scowled at being sat next to a clown, but he didn’t protest too much.

“Well, there’s only so long she can ground me.” Reki chuckled before plopping down on the nearby love-seat. Langa sat down next to him, not at all bothered by how incredibly close they were.

“I’m sure she won’t be too mad, Reki,” Langa said and pat his friend on the back.

“Well, if we can’t drink, then why exactly are we here? What are we going to do?” Joe groaned, dragging a hand down his face dramatically.

“What were you expecting? He was probably going to play spin the bottle with his new boyfriend, right Reki?” Miya teased, a shit eating grin on his little face. “Maybe swap spit and make babies?”

“Miya, do you know how–?” Joe began before Shadow smacked him in the face with a heavy pillow.

“I will not be explaining that on my night off,” Shadow grumbled with a shake of his head. Reki and Langa stifled their giggles, giving each other matching looks.

“What? What’s so funny?” Miya hissed, his face turning pink as he realized that there was something that the adults knew that he definitely wasn’t aware of.

“You’ll know when you’re older,” Cherry said with a sigh and a shake of his head.

Reki laughed even harder at that.

“Stop it, guys! What is it? What did I say?” Miya whined, crossing his arms over his chest and just outright pouting. He had been bullied in school before, but this felt different. Sure, they were laughing, but there was no real malice behind it.

“We are not doing this tonight,” Shadow groaned, “Why can’t we just find monopoly or something?”

Reki laughed harder, leaning back against the back of the love-seat. Langa looked up and down the red-head.

“Really tickled over there, aren’t you Gearhead?” Cherry mused.

Reki’s laughter dissolved into a coughing fit.

“Wh-what?” Reki spluttered, his face turning an even brighter shade of bright red.

“What? Not Gearhead? Gears? Sunshine?” Cherry mused, finally sitting down, but on the arm of the couch.

“Those are all terrible skate names. How about Mech? TechDeck?” Joe chimed in.

“Oh, and Joe is such a cool skating name?” Cherry scoffed.

“With all this going on? Keeping it simple is how the ladies don’t get too overwhelmed by my awesomeness,” Joe shot back, flexing his arms for everyone to see.

“We could call him Fire? Opposite of Snow there?” Shadow said with a wink in Langa’s direction. This was the type of teasing that he could get behind because it wasn’t some complicated nonsense that he would have to explain to a child.

“How about Red? Like his face when you said that word?” Miya said, getting up off of the couch and sauntering over to where the two teenagers were sitting.

“Gearhead?” Langa asked, looking between Reki and the sly cat-like boy who was stalking his way over to them.

“Tickle.” Miya said plainly. Reki went an even brighter shade of red, closely resembling his own hair at the moment.

“Wh-What? I was just…thinking that Gearhead was such a stupid name that-uh…I dunno. It was ridiculous,” Reki said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“I am insulted by that, Reki. Nicknames are incredibly important on the S. You’ll need to figure something out so that you’re not in Snow’s shadow every time to you step on a board.” Cherry said. Now he was the one pouting.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that, Cherry. It was just–” Reki continued, glancing between Miya and Cherry.

“He’s just too shy to admit that the word tickle got him all bothered like this,” Miya said smugly and jumped onto the arm of the love-seat.

“Why would something like that bother you, Reki?” Langa asked, all innocent, but Reki could swear he could see evil behind those bright blue eyes.

“It doesn’t bother me. I think Miya is just upset that we teased him a little.” Reki insisted, feeling like he was just a piece of red juicy meat and his friends just all turned into starving lions.

He could practically feel his skin buzzing.

“You sound really defensive, kid.” Joe said, leaning forward with a smirk on his face. “Are you that ticklish?”

“There’s only one way to find out!” Miya said and jumped forward–

Only to be stopped by Langa. Reki cowered with a squeak, pressed hard against the back of the love-seat.

“As much I would love to see Reki tickled to pieces, it’s not very fair if we all gang up against him like this, don’t you guys think so?” Langa asked, looking around. Reki sighed in relief at first before realizing what exactly the former snowboarder had said.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, shaking his head frantically.

“And how do you propose we do that, Snow?” Cherry asked, now definitely intrigued as to how exactly the blue-haired boy planned to get Reki in a puddle of giggles.

“Without killing him of course,” Shadow added with a pointed look. Sure, he liked to cause chaos and make people laugh (especially as his clown skater persona) but five against one was a bit much.

“Sure, we can play a regular party game.” Langa said with a shrug and turned to his friend and a pouting cat-boy. “Reki, truth or dare?”

Reki looked around and huffed.

“Truth.” He said with a small nod. No way he would say dare after all that nonsense about the damn t-word.

“Alright, where’s your most ticklish spot?” Langa asked calmly.

How the hell could Langa say shit like that without blushing?

“I don’t want to play this game. It’s rigged.” Reki grumbled. Now he was red from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck. After he let all of these hooligans into his house when he knew he would be grounded later… they treat him like this? Totally uncool.

“Alright, how many of us do you think you could handle tickling you? Surely you’re not that ticklish, Red.” Miya teased and stuck out his tongue.

“And what about you, Miya? You wouldn’t happen to be ticklish, would you?” Shadow asked, looking between Miya and Reki.

“You never answered the question, Reki.” Langa said with a smirk on his face.

“Alright, fine. You guys are bullies.” Reki huffed. “I don’t have any. You all are just wasting your time. Why don’t we pop a movie or something in the–”

And just like that, Langa was on top of him. He was shoved to the very corner of the love-seat with Langa practically straddling his waist.

“You can’t lie during the game, Reki. That’s not how you play,” Langa said with a shake of his head. “Where should we test out first?”

“Langa, come on, don’t do this. I’ll teach you a new skateboarding trick if you let me go right now. Maybe even make you some of my special ramen,” Reki rambled, kicking his feet out on the couch as he scrambled to get away. Langa snatched both of Reki’s wrists and pulled them above his head.

“Miya, would you be so kind to hold onto these for me?” Langa asked sweetly.

“With pleasure,” Miya hummed, grabbing Reki’s wrists and holding them as tight as he could.

“I would also like to join in on the fun!” Joe said, jumping up from the couch and running over to where the others were getting ready to tear Reki apart.

“Alright, you guys have five minutes, and then you have to let him go.” Shadow said, laying down on the now empty couch and getting comfortable. He took out his phone and pulled up the timer app.

“Five minutes?” The four said in unison, though Reki was more upset with how long time seemed to pass when he was getting tickled to all hell.

Not that it happened often, mind you, but before he had skateboarding, he had more friends and those friends definitely took advantage of how ticklish he was time and time again.

It had really been a while since he had been tickled to pieces and a part of him was…excited? Maybe?

No, that couldn’t be right.

“Time starts now,” Shadow said as he pressed the start button.

Langa went first, poking and prodding at the exposed belly of his best friend. Reki grit his teeth, refusing to let them get the satisfaction of hearing him break right away. Maybe if he doesn’t laugh, they’ll get bored.

Was Reki sure that he wanted them to get bored?

Joe snatched up the red-head’s legs and put his ankles into an armlock.

“Trying the tough-guy act, huh, Red-Mech?” Joe asked, swiping a finger down Reki’s foot.

Reki yelped, jerking his legs. His heart sank as he realized that he could barely move as they all held onto him.

Then came the pinches up his ribs.

“How many ribs do you think you have, Sunshine?” Langa asked as he pinched up and down Reki’s ribs.

“I-ACK! Stop! Lahahnga! Quit!” Reki gasped, a laugh managing to escape as he pleaded for his ticklish life.

“Was that a laugh I heard, Ticklee?” Miya asked from his perch on the arm of the love-seat.

“What’s that nickname?” Langa asked as he continued to squeeze up and down Reki’s ribs as if he weren’t completely tormenting him right now.

“Oh you know, like how you’re the tickl-er, that must mean he’s the tickl-ee, right?” Miya asked sweetly.

“Shuhuhut up!” Reki exclaimed. He didn’t know what was worse. Was it the teasing with the actual word, or the fact that Langa seemed to not care about all of this?

And Joe decided to chime in again, but this time lightly scratching his fingernails up an down Reki’s arches. Just as Langa decided to zero in on his other weak spot too. Well, weaker.

Now that the truth was out, they would all know that Reki was just one big walking tickle spot.

However, Langa just found that Reki’s underarms were insanely ticklish, just like the bottoms of his feet. Just as Joe had started on his arches, Langa decided to lightly scratch under his arms too, one finger under each as if he were testing the waters.

“AH! OHOHOHOHOKAY! Okay!” Reki barked, his whole body jerking and his head thrown back.

“Wow, okay what?” Langa asked teasingly, stopping his tickling as he realized the hefty reaction from his friend was because of what he and Joe had done.

“Alright, you got mehehe,” Reki said and tugged on his arms.

“You still have four minutes, Firetop,” Shadow chimed in from his spot on the couch.

“How about just one more minute, Shadow? I think we found the answers we were looking for,” Langa said smugly. Shadow nodded and changed the timer. If they were going for the death spots, it would only be fair to Reki for them to shave off a few minutes.

“You’re no fun, Snow.” Miya huffed.

“And you are definitely next, kitty,” Langa said with a pointed look at Miya. He then turned to Joe. “You ready?”

“Of course. I’m waiting for you kids to finish with whatever. ” Joe said before getting back into it.

For one full minute, Reki was in ticklish heaven hell. Langa altered between digging his thumbs into Reki’s armpits and lightly tickling around Reki’s neck and ears while Joe tickled and scratched up and down Reki’s poor defenseless feet.

When the timer ran out, Shadow snatched Miya up and tossed him playfully onto the couch. Cherry snatched Joe by the ear and pulled him away from a giggling mess of a skateboarder. Langa pulled himself off too, but Reki grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled himself closer.

“Alright, your turn,” Shadow said as he began tickling little Miya to pieces, mainly clawing at and around the little monster’s belly button, getting him cackling in no-time.

“Now I’m in a tickle monster mood, what do you think, Cherry? Like old times?” Joe asked before diving on top of him and digging into the pink-haired man’s hips. Soon, Cherry and Miya’s laughter and giggles filled the living room as Reki curled up in Langa’s lap and watched the scene unfold. Langa ran his fingers through the red hair of his tickled out best friend.

“Thanks for inviting everyone, Langa,” Reki hummed sleepily. “But I’m definitely going to get you back for this one.”

“Alright, Sunshine,” Langa said and fluttered his fingers by Reki’s ear. The red-head squeaked and scrunched his shoulders up protectively.

145 notes · View notes

honey-dewey · 4 years ago

Text

Pink Bubblegum and Platform Boots

Pairing: Shane ‘Dio’ Morrissey/Reader

Word Count: 2,756

Warnings: None

Dio was a bad boy. A goth, as some would say. He’s proud of it, proud of his leather and spike studded aesthetic. The litany of tattoos and piercings. So of course, when he falls in love, he expects someone like him. He does not expect to fall head over platform heels in love with the pink Lolita princess who lives in the apartment next door

Dio Morrissey was not a kind guy. He was tough and silent and a definite lone wolf. His entire aesthetic was grimoires and black and leather. He was tattooed and pierced and never smiled. He was not a good person, and he knew that.

Yet, there was one bright spot in his otherwise shadowed life.

His neighbor.

You were his literal opposite. A cutesy, pastel pink, lace covered lolita. From what he could tell, you were as sweet as your wardrobe, always saying hello to everyone in the building as you headed to work. Every day seemed to be amazing for you, and you always wore a bright smile.

Everything you did was sickeningly sweet. You were everything he told himself he hated. Pastels and colors and sunshine.

So of course, Dio was absolutely in love with you.

“Dio! Earth to Dio!” Raven said, waving her hand in front of his face as he watched his neighbor come into the building. “Fuck! What’s up with you?”

Her gaze followed his, smirking when she realized what he was staring at. “Oh? Is little Dio in love?”

“Dio’s in what?” Ace said, coming back onto the balcony with beers. “I swear you just said the L word.”

“I did!” Raven said eagerly, kicking her feet and grinning slyly at Dio. “What’s her name?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Dio grumbled into his beer bottle, outright lying because of course he knew your name. “And I don’t know because I’m not in love with her!”

Raven and Ace looked at each other and both broke out into laughter.

That night, when Dio was escorting his friends out of his apartment, the door next to his opened up.

Immediately, both Ace and Raven lit up. “Is that her?”

Dio swore, seeing you coming out of your apartment, walking towards the elevator. Which meant you had to pass Dio and his friends.

“Hey Dio,” you said sweetly, waving and walking past.

Dio simply sighed, realizing exactly what was about to happen now. “Hey. Heading out?”

You nodded, pushing the elevator button as Dio and his friends got closer. “Yeah. The local fabric barn is having a huge sale on their deadstock stuff. I wanna get out there before the sun goes down.”

“Huh.” Dio nodded, giving Ace a death glare as he smiled. “Sounds fun.”

“It is!” You said eagerly, adjusting your adorable lavender dress as you walked onto the elevator, followed by Dio and his friends. “I bet you could find some good stuff there. I saw a beautiful tarot card fabric last time I went.”

Raven perked up at that. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Just like that, you were pulling your phone out to show Raven the fabric, her immediately gushing over how nice it was.

“If I see it there today, I’ll get you some,” you said, pocketing your phone as the elevator reached the ground floor.

Ace and Raven waved as they left, leaving you and Dio alone outside the elevator.

“Are you heading out too?” You asked Dio, looking curiously at him.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Dio grumbled, trying his best to keep his reputation intact. It was so hard not to let himself, the real him, out when talking to you.

You smiled. “That’s okay. Have a good night Dio!”

As you walked away, Dio battled his emotions for all of twenty seconds before running after you. “Wait!”

“Hm?” You turned, skirt swinging and head tipping ever so slightly. “Yeah?”

Dio stopped, suddenly hesitant. But he wasn’t the kind of guy who backed down from anything. “Can I come with you? Fabric shopping, that is.”

Almost instantly, you lit up. “Of course! Come on!”

You two made for a very odd pair heading down the street, Dio’s dark leather and metal studded aesthetic a complete opposite from your pastel sweets and soft ribbon look. Yet, you matched in a very odd way, like two puzzle pieces. Especially when, upon coming up on a busy crosswalk, you anxiously took his hand, almost causing poor Dio to combust. His rings were cold on your skin, but his hand itself was nice and warm.

When you finished crossing the street, you didn’t drop Dio’s hand, merely continuing to walk with him, connected by your interlaced fingers. He didn’t tug away, despite the feeling of complete anxiety in his chest.

Of course, the fabric shop finally showed up, and you eagerly pulled Dio inside. It was a maze, with tall shelves full of bolts of fabric and smaller shelves stacked with containers of buttons and ribbons and threads.

“So what are you looking for?” Dio asked, looking at the employee who was staring at him.

“I don’t know,” you said happily, heading towards the pastel fabrics. “That’s the point! I have a budget but no plan. I just wanna see what catches my eye.”

Dio followed after you, very much like a lost puppy, as you hummed and looked over the messily stacked fabric bolts. You found a few you liked, humming as you took pictures and continued on.

Eventually, Dio got so uncomfortable that you actually noticed. “Why don’t you go traverse the black fabrics,” you said softly, tugging on his sleeve. “See if you can find that tarot bolt I was talking about.”

Dio gladly left the bright colors and shuffled through the dark blacks, occasionally finding something interesting.

Eventually, you found him, a bag in hand full of fabrics. “Hey. Find anything good?”

Dio shrugged. He had found the tarot fabric, which he showed you, and he hesitantly showed off another fabric bolt he found. It wasn’t black, but a deep navy, printed with beautiful silver stars and thin lines to create constellations. “This is nice.”

“It is,” you agreed softly, taking the loose fabric end and smiling. “It’s very nice. Perfect dress making fabric.”

You snapped a photo of it before walking off, Dio following you to the ribbon and lace section. You hummed to yourself, picking out a few different things. A roll of white lace, a few different ribbons in various colors and sizes, two packs of pearly white buttons. It was a hodgepodge of items, but you didn’t mind.

“I’m gonna go have a smoke,” Dio said to you at one point. “Meet you outside.”

“Yep.” You examined a roll of lace, looking up at Dio and smiling. “I’m almost done. Might need a few more things, but I shouldn’t be any longer than fifteen minutes.”

Dio left, leaving you to eagerly pick out a few items for your next big project. A roll of delicate black lace, two ribbons in black and navy, a few black buttons, and the most important part. The navy constellation fabric.

You paid for the items and left, seeing Dio waiting just outside. He put his cigarette out and began to walk beside you, instinctively grabbing your hand as you two came up on the busy crosswalk again.

“Find everything you needed?” He finally asked, squeezing your hand to grab your attention.

“Mhm!” You hummed happily. “And some things I didn’t, but that’s okay.”

By the time you had reached the apartment building, it was well after dark. Dio insisted on walking you to your door, despite your laughter infused attempt to remind him that you were neighbors.

“I’ll see you around Dio,” you said, opening your door and slipping inside.

Dio smiled, actually smiled, at you. “Yeah. See you around.”

You two did much more than that. Next time Raven visited Dio, she insisted upon seeing you, which meant that you were now settled upon Dio’s old ass couch, chatting away with Raven. You were a huge contrast to the entire apartment, in your pretty pink skirt with merry-go-round ponies on the bottom and the characteristic petticoat underneath it.

Eventually, when Dio went out onto the balcony to have a cigarette, Raven turned to you, her eyes alight. “He really likes you.”

“Dio?” You peered at the balcony, where Dio was leaning against the rail, a cigarette hanging off his lips. “He’s my neighbor.”

Raven snorted. “Honey, that boy is head over ridiculously large platform heels in love with you.”

Now it was your turn to make a noise of disbelief. “No he isn’t.”

“Yeah, he is.” Raven put a hand on your knee, smiling. “Let me tell you. Dio is not a going out kind of guy. But he went on and on about your fabric shopping date for almost half an hour that night. He genuinely enjoyed it.”

You were quiet. “He enjoyed it?”

“Hell yeah he did!” Raven said happily. “I haven’t seen Dio that happy about being out since, well, ever.”

Dio chose that moment to return, settling in a chair and looking between you and Raven. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” Raven said, leaning back. “Hey, how’s that skirt coming along?”

You perked up, telling Raven all about the tarot skirt you were making for her.

“All I need to do is put the elastic in and it should be done!” You finished after a few minutes. “You can come pick it up whenever, I’ll probably finish tonight.”

Raven promised to come get the skirt next time she visited Dio. You waved, watching her leave.

“So,” you said, standing and adjusting your skirt. “I’ll see you soon?”

Dio stood as well, coming over to your side. “Yeah. Soon.”

“Perfect!” You grinned, taking his hands and looking down at them. You pressed a finger into a small tattoo he had on the back of one hand, feeling his pulse jump beneath your skin. “I’ve been meaning to go back out and grab more fabrics. Think you’ll be up for it?”

Dio shrugged. “Sure.”

Which was how your monthly fabric dates became a thing. The monthly outings turned quickly into weekly dates, mostly at one of your apartments. When you were alone, it was like you had a completely different Dio. He smiled, leaning across your countertops to take cookies from you. He went on and on about Ancient Greek mythology, a childlike wonder to his voice. He was touchy and cuddly and although he was definitely still the stubborn goth who lived next door, he was no longer as guarded and emotionless. By that time, you were no longer neighbors. No longer friends. Your relationship was beyond that. Not quite lovers, but not not lovers either.

About a year after you two started to go out, Dio got super lonely one night. It was Friday, one night before date night, but he needed you. Needed to be beside you.

He trailed over to your apartment after some consideration, knocking hesitantly. You opened the door after a few seconds, grinning brightly upon seeing Dio. “Hey Dio! What’s up?”

Dio hesitated. You’d changed out of the frilly, baby blue dress and fluffy petticoat you’d worn to work, abandoning it for a pair of white overall shorts with a soft pink shirt underneath. Sometimes he forgot you weren’t always wearing those dresses. “Uh. Can I come in?”

It was an odd question. Dio never asked to come in. You usually had to ask him, and even then it took some pestering. “Of course. C’mere.”

Dio shuffled in, kicking off his boots and dropping almost two inches, making you smile. “So. What brings you to my apartment?”

“I dunno,” Dio mumbled, standing awkwardly in your entryway.

You smiled, coming closer and taking Dio’s hands. You slowly traced each tattoo he had, taking special interest in the one on the back of his hand, between his thumb and forefinger, as usual. “Lonely?”

“In a way.”

You tugged him further into the apartment. “Take your coat off Dio. I wanna show you something.”

Dio followed you, hanging his coat up on the coat rack as he went. You pushed open the door to a spare bedroom, only it wasn’t a bedroom. It was a sewing room.

Every inch of the room was covered in colorful fabric and delicate lace. Half finished projects littered the various surfaces, the most prominent a mess of beautiful pastel purple fabric piled up next to the sewing machine. But what caught Dio’s eye was the mostly finished dress on the dress form in the corner.

The dress itself was darker than anything Dio had ever seen you wear. A rich royal navy studded with faded silver stars, connected by thin lines of thread to make constellations. The dress would be knee length on you, with a layer of black lace around the bottom and the characteristic petticoat underneath, also in black. You’d layered a frilly black shirt underneath the dress as well, the long sleeves and silky ribbons doing terrible things to Dio’s imagination.

“So?” You asked hesitantly. “What do you think?”

Dio was dead silent, unable to form the thoughts into words. “Is it done?”

“Almost,” you said, turning the dress form around and showing Dio the collection of black metal loops on the back. “I have to finish putting the loops on, then it’ll be done.”

Dio stepped closer, running a hesitant hand over the fabric. “Is this?”

“That fabric we found when we went shopping? Yeah.”

Dio froze, hand still on the fabric. “I didn’t know you bought it.”

“I did,” you said, coming up behind him, wrapping him in a hug and pressing a cheek in between his shoulder blades. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Speechless, Dio melted into your embrace, turning around so you could tuck your head into his chest. You smiled, humming softly. “You’re a good man Dio Morrissey. I hope you know that.”

That was the last straw. You felt Dio’s chest heave, and with a slight shock, you realized Dio was crying.

“Oh,” you murmured, reaching up and wiping away his tears. “Oh Dio. Hey, it’s okay. Look at me, there you go. It’s okay.”

Dio took a stuttering breath, hugging you close. “I love you,” he stammered between breaths. “I love you so fucking much.”

You smiled, wrapping Dio in a hug and smoothing a hand up and down his back. “I love you too Dio.”

Just like that, it became official. Your date the next day was a real date, out to the park and then dinner. You eagerly finished up the star dress, getting dressed and ready while Dio waited outside your bathroom.

“Dio!” You called, arms aching as you let them fall to your sides. “Dio! Come here!”

The door opened, Dio’s face poking through the crack. “Yeah?”

“Lace me up?” You asked, showing him the back of the dress, which was shut with a zipper, but was cinched at the waist with a ribbon in a very corset-esque fashion. The only problem? You couldn’t lace it yourself.

Dio was completely frozen in the doorway, his eyes going up and down and up and down as he processed your outfit and how you looked. It took a solid two minutes before he responded. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” you said with a laugh. “Now c’mon. Don’t be afraid to squeeze me into this dress,” you said, handing Dio the silky black ribbon that matched the ones on your shirt.

He expertly threaded the ribbon, taking his time and definitely not hesitating to pull on the ribbon to really fit the dress to you.

“Thanks!” You said once he was done, turning to the makeup scattered across the bathroom. “Now. The fun part.”

Dio watched with pure curiosity as you put your makeup on. It was all okay until the colorful stuff, at which point he stopped you before you made a horrible mistake.

“How about I do this part?” He said, taking the brush and tapping the excess powder into the sink. “Close your eyes.”

You did as he asked, giggling when he took your face with one hand to steady you. “God your hands are huge.”

Dio smiled. “Mhm. And yours aren’t.”

More laughter echoed through the bathroom, and Dio paused in the makeup so you could laugh.

“Okay,” you said, finally straightening. “We’re gonna be late. Let’s hurry up.”

Ten minutes later, Dio had perfected your makeup, and you loved it. Lacing up your black shoes and adjusting your black socks, you looped an arm with Dio’s and walked towards the elevator together.

“So,” you finally said once you two had reached the park. “Dio Morrissey. The biggest, baddest boy on the block, has fallen in love with the resident princess. How the hell does that happen?”

Dio shrugged, putting an arm around you. “I dunno. But I’m glad it did.”

#nypd blue #shane 'dio' morrissey #dio morrissey #dio morrissey x reader #dio morrissey x you #pedro pascal #My writing

174 notes · View notes

ladykissingfish · 4 years ago

Text

Dining Out with the Akatsuki

Pein

The Pein-body doesn’t need food to sustain itself, but Nagato has made it so that he can taste and experience eating through the body. Surprisingly his favorite dish is a simple fish stew, which he enjoys several bowls full of, paired with a beer or two and a few pieces of delightfully crusty bread. But more so than the food, Nagato enjoys “being” with the others, especially Konan. When they were younger he and the blue haired beauty were often on the brink of total starvation, so to be able to afford the luxury of eating prepared foods in a nice establishment, and to do so with FRIENDS, is a dream that he’d never have dared to dream. Is a very tidy eater, and constantly makes sure the others are keeping their areas clean, so as not to make too much work for their waiter/waitress. The type to, if he thinks the server has too many empty plates and glasses to take back, will get to and help that person carry the empties back to the kitchen. Also makes sure everyone tips, even Kakuzu.

Konan

When going out to eat, Konan will always order a salad. That’s it. And it’s not because she’s a dainty eater; it’s because she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that every other member of the Akatsuki will be sharing large portions of THEIR food with her. Even Kakuzu will push whatever cheap dinner he’s bought across the table to her and gruffly tell her to take some of whatever’s there. The waiter or waitress will come back to the table to refill drinks and be confused that the delicate-looking salad girl is elbows deep in fries, ribs, steak, and anything else the group has pressed on her. And dessert is another matter entirely. ALL of them (with the exception of Kakuzu because he feels sharing his dinner was more than enough) will fight over who gets to buy Konan dessert. Usually settled with spirited games of rock-paper-scissors, and the winner gets to pick (and buy, of course) what sweet treat Konan gets. Also she never ends up paying for the salad she initially ordered, either, as the one buying her dessert will usually go ahead and spring for that, as well.

Hidan

Hidan is a big meat-eater, so when they go out to eat will typically order several pork, chicken, or beef-based dishes. His favorite is spare ribs, and he’s such an aggressive eater that the sauce will ruin whatever shirt he’s been made to wear for the evening. Watching him eat things like steak is always a bit gross, as he orders it cooked as rare as possible and always makes a big production out of licking the excess blood from his arms/the plate. He isn’t really a fan of sides, though, in particular vegetables; and will always push off the undesirables on his plate to whoever’s sitting closest to him (most often Kakuzu who will take whatever’s offered because hey, free food). He’s also one of the few who won’t order any sort of alcoholic drink with his meal, as he claims Jashinism prohibits the consumption of such things. Sodas or sweet fruit punches are his thing, and he drinks so much of this that he’ll end up rushing to the bathroom to pee a bunch before the meal is over. Is the fastest eater in the bunch so will try and start arguments or have arm wrestling contests with the others to pass the time along. If the waitress is pretty, he’ll flirt shamelessly and leave a big enough tip to make Kakuzu faint.

Kakuzu

It takes a LOT to get Kakuzu to go out and eat with everyone; he’s the epitome of the “we have food at home” mantra. When he does, he’ll always go for the absolute cheapest meal on the menu, even if the dish isn’t something he particularly likes. Also isn’t shy about using his advanced age to his advantage, to make use of senior specials and coupons. Always requests for there to be no salt in his meal because “too much sodium raises blood pressure which is bad for the heart”, and after all he’s got several hearts to take care of. Doesn’t really partake in the conversations at the table except to occasionally comment to the others about food being left on their plates; yes, even with the others paying for their own meals, he’s still hyper concerned about wasting money. The only time he likes going out to eat is his birthday, when everyone else will chip in to buy his meal for him. A big Sake drinker and will have almost an entire bottle ((of the cheapest kind)) with his meal, but he holds his liquor so well that he never seems drunk.

Sasori

Doesn’t eat but going out with the others is one of the few things he enjoys. He is someone who prefers elegant, quiet atmospheres, therefore favors going to smaller, somewhat exclusive restaurants. Since his attention isn’t focused on food, he’ll get up and wander from the table a lot, taking in the artwork (if any) on the walls. Has a special (and unexpected) talent, in calming down the fussy children of other diners. Because he’s curious about everything, he’ll ask Deidara or Itachi to describe their meals to him in heavy detail.

Deidara

This guy can eat. He, Hidan and Tobi are the biggest eaters in the company, so when everyone goes to a restaurant or cafe together, separate checks are a necessity ((Kakuzu: All I had was tea! Why should we split the bill when those fucks had 12 plates each?!)) Shares a slight commonality with Kakuzu in that his favorite meal is fish-based, and Kisame has taught him well in regards to knowing whether a fish is fresh or not. He isn’t the neatest diner, and will constantly be reminded by Pein or Konan to tidy up his area before the waiter/waitress comes back to the table. Will ALWAYS ask the server about the specials of the day, even though 9 times out of 10 he already knows what he’s going to order. Deidara has the ability to taste food through his hands, and will sometimes make a show of eating with all three mouths at once (which fascinates the other diners but leaves his own team disenchanted, to say the least). Can easily be goaded into eating “competitions” with Hidan, which almost always results in severe stomachaches and a need to be carried back to the hideout by their respective partners.

Tobi

What’s an entree? This guy will always go straight for the dessert menu. At first Pein and the others tried to stop him, telling him dessert was only to be had after a balanced meal; but Tobi’s tendency to eat a single bite of an expensively-priced steak quickly convinced the others to mind their own business. Whether at home or out to dinner, meal times are the only times he removes his mask; he still wears a rough black cloth over his eyes but without the mask everyone can see the (slightly scarred) bottom half of his face — and his smile. Which he does a lot; it’s obvious that spending time with the others means a great deal to him. His voice changes just slightly too — he still says the most out of place, goofy things, only in a much deeper tone of voice. Deidara especially is completely thunderstruck by how calm and quiet and NORMAL Tobi seems without the mask, and comes up with the (correct) theory that Tobi literally becomes a different person with that orange monstrosity on. Can be goaded into eating contests with Deidara and Hidan, although his food tolerance isn’t as high as these two and will more than likely spend all night in the bathroom.

Zetsu

Never ever joins the others when they dine out. Like never. Will occasionally use his exceptional scouting skills to scope out new venues for the group, but that’s as far as it goes.

Kisame

Restaurants aren’t really his thing, so (as in many other circumstances) will only accompany the others if Itachi goes as well. Like Pein and Deidara, goes mostly for fish-based meals, although he does enjoy an extra rare steak on occasion. Doesn’t drink alcohol but will order many cups of tea or, in the winter, cocoa. Is one of the few in the group who knows just how bad Itachi’s eyesight has gotten, so will always lean close and quietly whisper to him things on the menu that he thinks he’d like to eat. Enjoys eating establishments where they play soft music; it always puts him in a relaxed state of mind. Kisame is like Pein in that he abhors rudeness towards servers and restaurant staff, and will jump in quickly (and often very harshly) to “reprimand” anyone he feels is being an ass, whether it be another customer or his own team mates. Has gotten into a fistfight with Hidan twice over some of the more lewd things he’s said to waitresses, one of which got the whole group banned from that particular place. Doesn’t like desserts but will ask both Itachi and Konan what THEY would get for dessert, orders both things, and gives it to them.

Itachi

Like Kisame, dining out isn’t really his deal, but will go every now and then when the “persuasion” of the others wears him down (Deidara: You antisocial asshole; are you too good to spend time with us or what, hm?!). Prefers places that are small and dimly lit; bright lights hurts his eyes immensely and he’s never been comfortable in large crowds of people. A trick his father taught him when he was younger was that, when eating in a public place, always go with somebody you can trust to keep an eye on the entrance for possible enemies; so Itachi will always sit in a spot where he’s facing the door, to protect the rest of the group. Eats his food slower than the others (everyone thinks it’s because he savors his meal but really it’s because he has trouble seeing it), and, like Tobi, is a bigger fan of desserts than the entree. Also has a thing with napkins; will sit and tear one napkin up into dozens of tiny strips while the others talk to each other, or sometimes shows off Konan’s origami lessons by turning them into little flowers or birds. Hidan gets easily annoyed by him because Hidan flirts mercilessly with every female in sight — but Itachi simply sits there quietly and has every female in the restaurant staring at him with wide eyes and lovesick faces. Hasn’t once left a restaurant without being asked out by at least 3 women (all of whom be very politely turns down, but still).

#the akatsuki #dining out #pein #nagato #konan #hidan #kakuzu #zetsu #tobi #deidara #sasori #itachi #kisame #headcanon

79 notes · View notes

imagineddworld · 4 years ago

Text

Unexpected

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: After serving detention with your favorite teacher, true feelings get revealed.

Word counter: 3,5 K (3500)

Author’s note: I made Remus a new, young teacher, and the student just turned 18. There is still a 5 years difference, but I tried to make it a bit more comfortable for people who don’t really like big age gabs.

I also tried to make it gender neutral, so if you guys have any tips; that would be great.

Didn’t proof read this, as lack of time with my exams very near. But I wanted to post something. As expected it turned out longer than I had meant to

Hope you enjoy xx

The time had come where the seventh years were learning how to make Amortentia. A potion well known to most curious students as the love potion. But it was a very tough one to make. You got all the ingredients right, but the brewing method messed you up every time. Same for today, it had started to fog an odd green smoke. It was at least better than the time where it had blown up in Snape’s face. You had never received such a big punishment as then. You were given 5 essays to write and served detention for a whole month.

“Detention Miss/Mister (Y/L)”, you heard the cold, monotone voice from behind you, “You can serve it with Professor Lupin after class. He needs help with grading essays”. You already had predicted this outcome to happen, but tried to argue anyway. “But-”, you silenced yourself as soon as you saw his cold glare. You sighed, slumping back in your chair. “Okay”, you mouthed silently, while making a mocking face. “That will be two detentions”, you heard him say angrily. You threw your arms in the air as a sign of annoyance, but didn’t say anything else. You started to clean your cauldron, hoping in the last minutes of class he wouldn’t give you more detentions or worse, gave you another essay to write. He really hated the living hell out of you. As one of the new teachers, together with Professor Lupin, you hand’t expected to be hate so much. You rarely did anything. Perhaps even breathing was too much for him. But there was not much you could do about it. You realized that the hard way. Most of the time you argued with him, but one particular time he had enough of your snarky comments. He had given you detention for nearly two months, making you clean all the little, dirty places of Hogwarts. All magic was forbidden, you needed to clean it all by hand. And as bonus to top it all off, he overloaded you with essays to write. Every week you needed to give two writer essays of 10 pages at least. After that event, you didn’t bother arguing much.

The rest of the day went by as normal, mostly spend with your nose in your books. As your final class ended, you quickly dropped off the unnecessary books at your dorm that couldn’t fit in your bag. You only kept the ones you needed for your essay. The one you were planning to write after your detention. Your dorm seemed further away from Professor Lupin’s office, resulting in you needing to sprint through the halls. Luckily the halls were less crowded. Only a few students were chatting in the hallway, laughing with their friends and keeping each other up to date. When you reached the door, you were out of breath. Partly from the running and partly from your nerves. Your heart was pounding too, and you hands were shaking the slightest bit. You took in some deep breaths and tried to calm yourself.

Detention with Remus Lupin made you more nervous than you had expected. He wasn’t just your favorite teacher, because of his amazing teaching skills. But also due to his kind character and beautiful looks. You had unexpectedly started to grow feelings for him. He had an amazing sweet and kind soul. His blue eyes sparkled every time he taught your class something new. Every time you got mesmerized by them, losing yourself into the beauty of the blue irises. Fascinated by the swirls of colors that came out when the light captured them from a certain perspective. His smile never failed to make your heart flutter. Every time he called your name during class, your face became beat red. His scars were a beautiful contrast against his slightly reddened cheeks.

You had thought the fact that he was your teacher, would disgust you. But technically he wouldn’t be your teacher anymore in 2 months. And also the fact that there were only a few years between the two of you, made it more acceptable. He was a fairly new and young teacher. A lot of girls probably had crushed on him, so you weren’t to blame. It’s not like you could control your feelings. As long as you kept it hidden, you were fine.

Your hands were shaking more, as you realized what was about to happen. Your heart started to pick up its beat up again, hammering against your chest. You softly knocked on the wooden door. “Come in”, his muffled voice could be heard form inside. With a little creak of the door, you made your way into his office. “Hello Professor. I’m here to serve my detention”, your voice was silent, and a bit shaky. He looked up from his desk full of papers, eyes lighting up the slightest bit. He gave you a sweet smile: “Ah yes, (Y/N). I was surprised when Snape me you were the one who had gotten detention. You never do anything wrong”. A light blush crept up your cheeks. His eyes were entrancing you, making your knees weak. “Well, I messed up the method of my potion, so you know how Snape is. Then I mocked him for his ridiculous behavior and got myself a second detention. So you will be stuck with me again tomorrow evening”, you smiled more confidently now. You didn’t regret your behavior. Snape really was a living hell. It was just your overthinking mind and overwhelming nerves that were bothering you now. As they were most of the time.

“Oh, Don’t worry about that, dear. I don’t mind your company”, he smile seemed even brighter. The soft candle light really gave him a certain glow that had you mesmerized. It was a soft yellow light, that showed off all his features even better. This soft look in combination with his sweet words really made you swoon. These detentions might were going to kill you. This man couldn’t get any lovelier, at least you thought so. Every time you saw him, some new details had you drawn to him. Another little piece of him you could adore. Like whenever the light hits his eyes right, they looked almost yellow. As if a sun was glowing behind them. That might explain why they gave such a warm and loving appearance. Or the soft shadows that were cast on his face, pointing out his fine bone structure even more. His jawline standing out the most. The combination of his messy hair and wintery sweater, made him look very cosy. He gave off a feeling of home and trust. As if you truly could be yourself around him, even if there were certain boundaries. Maybe that comfort drew you the most to him.

“Well..., you can start with that pile over there”, his voice woken you from your daydream. He pointed to a chair in front of his desk with a smaller pile of papers on it neatly stacked. Your cheeks were flushing a bright red, as you realized he must have seen you stare at him for who knows how long. You placed your bag against the wall, and hung your robe on the hanger that stood in the corner. You carefully picked up the stack of papers and placed them on the desk, so you could sit. Lupin made some room for your pile, as his was literally scattered all over his wooden desk. He mumbled soft apologies in between soft, heartwarming chuckles. After he gave you a pen, some ink and instructions of how to rate these essays, you went to work.

You had to be honest, it was quite hard to concentrate when you were sat in front of this beautiful man. You often glanced up, admiring him in this soft light and closer perspective. You didn’t dare to look up, but had a feeling his eyes were on you as well. But that could’ve been your feelings sparking up some deeply hidden hope for him ever being interested in you. Every time he leaned over to help you on a certain problem, you could feel your breath halt in your throat. You had trouble keeping your heart rate in control.

“I’m all done, Professor”, you said when you rated the last essay of your pile. He looked up with that loving smile of his, making your heart flutter for the umpteenth time. “Brilliant. Thank you for your assistance today”, he gently took the essays from your hand, and placed them on his big pile of already marked homework. “Maybe I could help you with that potion you were having trouble with?” You smiled widely at him: “Oh, that would be lovely, sir. I really could use some help”. He nodded happily, while his eyes seemed to spark that particular sparkle whenever he got passionated with teaching and helping people. “Do you have your textbook with you?” You mumbled a quiet yes, as you went to grab it from your bag. You handed it over to him, standing by his side on a formal distance away from him. “What potion were you working on?”, he asked while going through the pages of your book. “Amortentia”. As soon as the answer left you mouth, he started to cough lightly seen that he had just took a sip of his tea. “Are you okay, sir?”, you asked him worriedly, placing your hand on his arm. You were a bit unsure if you should touch him or not. But you had acted upon it like an instinct. Luckily he didn’t really reacted to the soft manner, meaning he probably didn’t mind. “Yeah, yeah. I’m alright, dear. Just chocked a bit on my tea, is all”. He cleared his throat and straightened out his back, adjusting his position as a way to recover from his small coughing fit. “So, Amortentia...”, he started off, sounding it bit absentmindedly. “Yeah, I have all the ingredients right. It’s the brewing method that messes me up every time. It always seems to go so well, until it suddenly doesn’t. And I don’t know why”, your explanation sounded like a rambling of quick words put together, making you unsure if he actually understood you. He nodded his head, as he read over the page. “Hmm, well. I’m here to help you. We just need supplies”.

The two of you snuck around the halls, if you even can consider it that. It was still a few hours before curfew and you were with a teacher, so not much trouble could happen. But you still sort of broke into Snape’s classroom, which he wouldn’t appreciate at all. “If we get caught, I am going to blame you. He already hates the living hell out of me”. The tall man next to you chuckled at your comment. “Trust me, love. He hates me plenty, you just don’t see it”. You raised your eyebrow questionably at him: “Why? You are such a lovable person”. The words left your mouth before you registered fully what you had said. His silence made you fear your previous statement even more. Did you mess up? But as you sneaked a look at him, it seemed like he wore a light blush on his cheek. Brighter than he usual reddened cheeks. Indeed it also could be the incidence of light, hitting his skin differently and creating an illusion of colours.

As you reached the classroom, you quickly mumbled a spell to unlock the door to Snape’s ingredient collection. “Alright, get what you need. I’ll keep watch”, he said quietly, not really looking at you. You listed off all the ingredients you needed, having remembered them from the plenty of times that you had read over the page. You had placed the ingredients on the desk nearest to you, not risking to drop any in the searching process. But as you looked at the amount of pots and bits, you weren’t so sure if every item would make it back safely. “Could you give me a hand, sir?”, you said a bit louder, so he could hear you from the doorway. His head turned quickly to where you were standing. “Oh. Of course, darling”, he smiled, rushing over to your side. He took the bigger part of the items, stressing that it was only right. He could carry them all with only one arm, the other softly placed on the small of your back as he guided you out of the classroom. It must have been a protective, kind manner he always had had in him. You shouldn’t overthink such an innocent thing. But you had to be fair, it really made your heart melt and your skin burn where he hand was placed. It gave you all sort of tingles.

He opened his door for you, opening his arm to allow you into his office. “Such a gentleman”, you teased, even if your cheeks were burning up. He glanced to the floor, hiding his face from your view. You set all the ingredients on the table, setting them on order of how you would need to use them. Remus placed his cauldron on the table and started to go over the instructions. He mostly gave you the lead, but stepped in wherever you were going to make a mistake. He also gave you useful tips for future potions. “You are doing a great job, (Y/N)”, he smiled form your side, keeping a respectable distance from you. “Well, you are helping me a lot. So, you could say we make quite a great team”, you smirked lightly, not really daring to look over to him. You just focused on stirring in the cauldron. A weight fell of your shoulders when you hear him chuckle: “If you say so, it must be true”. He sounded a little more playful.

As you added the last ingredient, the liquid turned a beautiful pastel pink. The aroma that came from it was way better than all your previous attempts. You leaned over the cauldron to take a whiff of the odor. “Oh wow, this smells good. It’s way better than all my other attempts. It’s smells like man’s cologne and chocolate”, you said with an excited smile, but it fell soon after. “Or is it just you?”, you asked a Remus with a sad tone. You really wanted to succeed, but after all your failed attempts you didn’t know what Amortentia smelled or looked like.

Lupin’s eyes were switching between your face and his hands, as if he were unsure of what to say or do. “Normally it smells like what you’re attracted to, miss/ mister (Y/L/N)”. Your eyes widened the slightest bit. Of course you knew that. You were just so enchanted by the smell, that you forgot you were actually outing your secret to the person you wanted to know the least. “Oh, yeah. I know that. But as my other attempts smelled so awful, I thought maybe Amortentia had an actual odor”, you tried to safe yourself. It was partly true, but you tried to cover up the fact that you had outed your secret. You had admitted smelling him, admitting to liking him as the potion had succeeded. “It- It’s alright”, he spoke quietly. A short moment of silence fell over the two fo you. But before it could get any more awkward, you decided to speak up again. “So, uhm. What do you smell, sir”. He seemed to swallow a big lump that had formed in his throat. Slowly he came into movement, leaning over the cauldron as well. He closed his eyes to focus on the scents that he smelled. “Old books and (a scent linked to you)”, he said absentmindedly. He reopened his eyes, but they weren’t focussing on anything particularly. He seemed a bit fazed out, but so were you. Maybe it was the potion, or it was the sudden awareness of your feelings and the position you found yourself in. You were trying to register what he had said previously. Did he smell you? it could be anyone, right? A lot of people must smell like that. You didn’t want to get your hopes up. It would only lead to heartaches.

You fell back into reality, shaking your head lightly. Once your eyes were focussing again on the room you found yourself in, you realized how close you stood to one another. You must have subconsciously moved closer towards him. When you found the courage to look up, you found his clear blue eyes already trained on you. You felt very nervous underneath his gaze, as if you were being put on spot. You licked your lips as a sign of nerves. Your eyes roaming through the whole room, trying to avoid his gaze. You didn’t know what to do. “No, I can’t do this”, he whispered, stepping a few steps back. “What do you mean?”, you were really confused. Did he meant to do something? You knew nothing could happen between the two fo you. It was wrong in many ways, but you couldn’t help your feelings. You didn’t really expect him to feel anything back. So this came as a hit in the face, as if there had been actual hope all along. “You- you’re my student...”. You nodded slowly, still not getting exactly what he was on to. You had some speculations, but needed confirmation. You couldn’t trust your intuition.

“I know.. In two months I won’t be. At least if I graduate”. He shook his head lightly, going with his hand through his hair. “Still.. I’m 5 years older than you. We can’t do this..”, he pointed between the two of you. At that moment it hit you. Your speculations were confirmed. You were somewhat embarrassed for how long it had taken you to realize what was happening. “You- you were considering that anything could happen between- between us?”, you stuttered, still not registering it completely. You were feeling like your ears were playing tricks on you. “Maybe...”, he said unsure. Even if you didn’t had your hopes up for anything to happen, still somewhere deep down the sparks of it had hidden. Knowing that he had considered it, but refused to follow through with it, hurt you more than expected. Your eyes started to water, but kept the tear in. Of course he noticed the change. He stepped closer to you and wiped away the single tear that had fallen from your eye. “I’m sorry, love. Please don’t cry”. You forced a small chuckle, smiling at his loving face. “No, it’s okay. Honestly, It’s okay”. Both your voices were quiet as they spoke, not willing to hurt the other even further.

You couldn’t blame him for this decision. You couldn’t ask such a thing, couldn’t expect such a thing. It was against the rules. He needed to keep a certain distance with his students. The least you wanted was him to lose his job, because of your foolish crush. You respected his decision, even if it hurt. It would be for the better.

His hand was still on your cheek. It was soft and warm against your skin. You wanted to cherish this moment, even if it was going to break your heart as soon as it ended. His other hand comfortably rested on your waist. “Screw the rules”, he mumbled. Before you registered what was happening, his soft lips were capturing yours in an unexpected but loving kiss. It was soft and tender, but all the while it was full of love. Once the shock wore off, your hands fell to his chest. You softly grabbed the fabric of his sweater. You could feel his rapid heartbeat underneath your palm. He pulled you closer to his body, deepening the kiss. His hand went to the back of your head, not willing to break the kiss yet. Eventually you needed to do so, as you were running out of air. You kept your closeness, both recovering from the unexpected kiss.

“You are going to be the death of me, love”,he said breathlessly. You chuckled at his comment, leaning in to his chest to cuddle him. You enjoyed the warmth and feeling of being wrapped up in his arms. You looked up at him, being met by his sweet smile and enchanting eyes. “Likewise, sir”, you said before you captured his lips in a second kiss. This time even more passionate. The both of you smiled into it, feeling complete. It felt right. Even if you broke some rules, it was all worth it.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp imagine #hp remus #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus #lupin #remus fluff #Fluffy Imagine #remus fluffy imagine #remus lupin fluff

191 notes · View notes

watermelonlipstick · 4 years ago

Text

Dreams, Chapter 16

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 16

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1754

Summary: Some of Sam’s efforts to ‘nest’ in their new life together reveal new possibilities.

Warnings: angst, FLUFF, swearing, s l o w b u r n

Water laps at the weather-beaten wood of the dock underneath you slowly and the rhythm feels like hypnosis with the sun beating down a blanket. You sense Dean at your side without opening your eyes.

“So…was he any good?”

You can’t help but laugh, hearing the echo go out over the small lake, and get up to your elbows. It’s bright enough that you have to squint over at Dean where he lays next to a couple fishing poles and a cooler, t shirt hitched up to show a sliver of his stomach with his arms behind his head. His smile is devilish, made even more smug with eyes closed against the sun so his lashes cast an inch-long shadow on the dusting of freckles across his cheeks. “You can’t ask that!” you giggle.

His lips flatten into a knowing line. “So that’s a no?”

“Jesus Christ, of course it’s not a n—you know what, I’m not talking to you about this,” you smile, laying back down.

“Ooh, so it’s a yes,” he teases as he turns on his side to face you. “Go Sammy. That mean you two are, like, going steady now?”

You let your head loll over to him and roll your eyes. “Are you done?”

“Not yet. Is he going to let you wear his letterman jacket? Take you to junior prom?”

“I’m giving you ten more seconds.”

Dean laughs, free and easy. “Fine, okay, I’m done. Wait—did he wrap it?”

“DEAN!” you yell, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Okay, alright, okay.” He’s still chuckling when you open your eyes to look over at him and reaches over to slip a piece of hair behind your ear. “You, ah, you seem happy.”

You search his eyes for any hidden anger and find only the softness of calm affection with a pinch of solemnity. Where his hand lingers in your hair you turn into it, pressing your lips to Dean’s palm. “I am.”

Dean smiles, straight teeth a perfect row of pearls so white you think for a second they might ‘ding’ with sparkle like a cartoon, and he looks relaxed enough as he puts his hands back behind his head that it calls up images of a kitten falling asleep in a sunny spot like this even as he keeps his eyes on you. “Took you guys long enough.”

“And you’re still okay with this?”

“Yeah, hell yeah. That’s the best I could ever ask for, you two happy. So, what do you say? Want to see if we can catch some fish?”

Spring was a blessing; clean greenness breaking through the grey and white purifying the air and breathing new life into you, Sam, and the community you’d come to be a part of. The cabin was that much nicer with the new hours of sunlight pouring through the windows and all the upgrades you had put into it, to the point that you began to feel truly comfortable there. You even invited the Kaisers over for dinner a few times, feeling more like equal partners in your burgeoning friendship with them.

You started to feel stable enough to get things; picked up a bookshelf at the combination flea/farmer’s market that happened in the K-12 school’s field every Saturday morning and got higher quality spatulas to cook with, the kinds of nonessential stuff you never would’ve bought before knowing you were going to stay in one place long enough to get good use out of them. Sam, in turn, kept building: changing the locks to sturdier ones and erecting a shed big enough to hold a lawn mower.

You’d been cooking on an early Sunday afternoon when Sam came home and crossed the cabin in a few strides, giving you a kiss on the cheek before setting a thick paper bag down on the kitchen counter. “Smells great, what’re you making?”

“Ratatouille!” you buzzed, placing a slice of eggplant carefully into its slot. “I’ve never had it, but I’ve always thought it looks so pretty. Hopefully it’s good. Where were you?”

“Hardware store. I thought maybe I could build a greenhouse; see if we could grow anything. Might be enough to work against the cold.”

You raised your eyebrows in appreciative surprise. “Look at you! What’re you thinking? Poppies? Platinum OG? Purple Haze?”

Setting a box of screws down, Sam rolled his eyes through a smile. “My plan was more along the lines of tomatoes or something, but I’ll, uh, take those suggestions under advisement.” You had a sudden urge to twist a gentle finger into the dimple that stayed on his cheek as he unloaded the rest of his supplies but didn’t want to embarrass him, instead sweeping some garlic skins into your hand to throw into the small bucket Sam kept under the sink to collect scraps for the compost pile. When the bag was empty he refolded it and took off his jacket, passing by you to put it on its hook by the door. “Want any help?” he asked, sounding about as breezy as you’d ever heard him.

“It just has to bake for about an hour. Does a late lunch work with your construction schedule?”

Sam leaned over to slip a hand around your waist and kissed the top of your head before grabbing an armful of stuff to take outside. “Definitely. Just yell when you’re ready for me.”

You giggled and waggled your eyebrows suggestively. “I’m always ready for you.”

He tried his best not to blush but bit his lip in spite of himself, looking up at you with a bashful twinkle in his eye. “I walked into that one, didn’t I?”

In response you held up a spare slice of zucchini that Sam readily accepted, opening his mouth like an obedient puppy and chewing as he went out the back door.

You loved watching Sam work on his greenhouse in the weeks that followed, getting so excited about the tiny shoots sprouting up from the soil that he sometimes woke up early to check on them before starting his day. After a few weeks he woke you up one morning with a cup of coffee, bare-chested under slightly sleep-tangled hair and the hems of his flannel pants sloppily half inside his boots. “I wanna show you something,” he said, throat still gravelly. You accepted the mug and got out of bed, following him drowsily and jamming your feet inside your shoes at the door, too tired to worry about the laces.

He led you into the greenhouse with its clear plastic walls and pointed down at a petite bud on top of a green stalk. It had the telltale waviness of a basil leaf, and when you bent down to look closer at it the plant already smelled herbaceous. “It’s so cute!” you hummed. Sam practically glowed with satisfaction, an unbridled smile the perfect accessory to the broad span of his chest where it was backlit by the fuzzy light through the greenhouse walls. You straightened and rubbed his back in congratulations, staring down at the plant together with your coffees like parents on Christmas morning. Tucked in the corner of the greenhouse behind the basil, a scattering of bitty white flowers caught your eye against the burnt umber soil.

“Wait, you already have stuff flowering in here? What’s that?” you asked, tiptoeing around the wooden stakes in the soil to get closer.

“Oh—I, uh—” he stammered behind you.

At arm’s length the flowers looked vaguely familiar and you stopped short. “Is that—?” You turned back to Sam, who seemed not to be able to come up with anything to say, his face the kind of blank surprise that indicated he didn’t know whether you were about to be upset. “Really? Where��d you even…how did you get some?”

He tucked his hair behind his ears to stall for even a half second. “I—well, I found a guy who got me—got us—some.”

“You still have an African dream root hookup?”

Sam’s lips pressed into a well-practiced silent ‘I guess?’ and he reached back to ruffle the hair at the nape of his neck, the movement stretching his side distractingly enough that if you hadn’t been so startled by the discovery of a plot of dream root literally in your own backyard you might’ve forgotten what you were talking about altogether.

You raised your eyebrows expectantly, waiting for him to explain.

“I made some calls, found someone in Milwaukee who got his hands on some and he mailed it here. I didn’t want to, uh, tell you in case I couldn’t get it to grow.”

All kinds of possibilities and frustrations raced through your head. “So you’ve had this for weeks? That’s why you built the greenhouse?” Sam didn’t answer fast enough. “Never mind, I don’t care,” you found yourself saying, and surprisingly, actually meaning. You took a deep breath to stop the words from jumbling together. “Do you think it’ll work?” you breathed, knowing he would understand the real question: would we be able to see Dean together?

“Only one way to find out.”

For whatever reason you’d gotten freshly showered, made up, and dressed before brewing the tea with Sam on your next day off of work. It felt like there should be some level of pomp and circumstance about it, this giant undertaking that might be able to change your whole life again, even knowing that your prep wouldn’t translate into a dream. You were giddy with anxiety and almost wished you could reasonably put it off, the idea of this new possibility being yet another dead end making you nauseous.

“Your place or mine?” you asked, trying to put a little sheen of humor on your nerves.

Sam chuckled but you could tell he was nervous too, rubbing his palms dry on the knees of his jeans over and over again. “You haven’t done it before, right?”

You shook your head. “Is there a learning curve or something?”

“Honestly it’s been long enough that I don’t really remember. Hold on—hold still.” He reached out and very gingerly swept a finger across your cheekbone, drawing back to show you an eyelash stuck to the whorl of its pad.

You straightened where you sat on the edge of the bed. “That’s as good a sign as any. Cheers, I guess.” Sam dropped the tiny hair into his mug and touched the ceramic to yours, his eyes hopeful and reassuring as you took tandem sips.

And then you were off.

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 17

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass @vxnderlindes @deanwinchesterswitch @akshi8278 @itsjensenanddean @flannellover67 @weepingwillowphoenix @tj-drinks-tea @whatareyousearchingfordean @winchest09 @winchestergirl2 @samwisethegr8 @nobxdy @nurse-sarahrn @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love @deanwanddamons @stressedoutkitten @winchestershiresauce @tatted-trina6 @percico-heronstairs @downanddirtydean @queenoftheunderdark @lyarr24 @waywardwifey @wonder-cole @sergeantsea @peachyafshawn @tjfinnigan @calaofnoldor @that-one-gay-girl @daringvixon @fairlyspnfanfic @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @samfreakingwinchester @lovelyrocker @mrspeacem1nusone @theveridianmoon @underc0vercryptid @kpwatsonn

And as always, if you want to be on my taglist, were on the taglist and changed your handle, or I lost track of it, please let me know!

71 notes · View notes

spoopyredacted · 4 years ago

Text

unheavenly creatures

chapter four

clan leader mand’alor!din x shayr’la(ofc) 1.7k

masterlist / pinterest

chapter one / chapter three / chapter five

description: we have some soft dummies on our hands yall. dancing, cheeky comments, palm kiss?!

a/n: @tiffdawg is literally a godsend. she listens to me ramble on and on about these two and always helps me through my writing blanks. i love her with all my heart. i decided to break this chapter up because one(1) im excited, and two(2) the next two scenes are heavy and i didn’t want to wait a million years to update again. so we get a shorter chapter this time.

———

Don’t you care?

Yes.

———

TWO WEEKS BEFORE THE JOR’ADIR BE NUHUR

The Mand’alor paces back and forth in the throne room, waiting for Shayr’la to show. I should have just found her myself, Paz might— The door creaks open, interrupting his train of thought, and Shayr’la walks in. Her long golden dress stands contrast against her dark skin and the Mand’alor thinks, like he has so often lately, about how beautiful she looks.

He walks to her, the sound of his boots echo around the room, with a greeting resting just on the tip of his tongue but the closer he gets the more he notices she’s upset. Her cheeks are blotchy and her normally clear brown eyes are now red rimmed and puffy. She’s been crying. “Ka’ra?” He reaches her and cups her face in his gloved hands, rubbing his thumbs over the apples of her cheeks. “Are you alright?”

She doesn't want to answer him, scared her voice will crack and give away too much emotion. She brings her hands up to cover over his and she nods, nuzzling into his palms.

“Okay, Ka’ra.” She knows that he doesn’t believe her, but she can’t bring herself to tell him what Paz said, that he felt compelled to say those things to her.

Did he not see that she did care?

She just… It takes… It hurts.

Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath to calm herself back down. Inhaling the leather and woodsy musk that is ultimately him, she turns her face into the leather of his gloves and kisses it. Not realizing what she’s done until it's too late, just caught up in the comfort he always seems to provide for her.

Oh.

Shayr’la clears her throat, trying to break the tension she’s accidentally created. “Paz said you wanted to see me.” She looks up into the black T of his visor. “Did you need something, Mand’alor?”

She hasn’t moved away.

“I.. uh, yes.” He slides a hand to the back of her neck, slow , and takes a small step towards her. “We need to practice.” She cocks her head to the side, a mimic of the Mandalorians around her, he wonders if she realizes that she has picked up the little quirk.

Cute.

“Practice?” she questions. “Practice what?” He invades her senses, her space, her mind, her soul . And she allows him to maneuver her head, tilting it up with a thumb to her jaw. She unconsciously moves closer to him, like an invisible string tying them together; a pull to one another that neither wants to admit to and yet they have no control over.

The rasp of his voice comes through the modulator answering her, “Te redalur.”

———

The Mand’alor starts the music, something with a flowing beat that repeats itself and is easy to keep time to. He walks back to the center of the room where she is waiting for him. She looks nervous, hands twisting with one another.

“Just follow my lead, Ka’ra.” He nods his helmet at her in encouragement trying to swallow down his own nerves.

Shaking out her arms to loosen up, she pushes back the voice of Paz telling her she doesn’t belong, that she doesn’t care. She does. Taking a deep breath in, she steadies herself, looks back, and acknowledges that she is ready.

For anything.

The Mand’alor lifts his right arm, bent at the elbow, palm facing Shayr’la and she mimics him. Taking a step to her he matches their forearms together but doesn’t clasp her hand. He walks her through the first few steps his eyes taking in her form and the determination set in her face. Half to make sure she is following his lead and keeping in time, and half because he can’t drag himself to look away from her.

They twirl around the room in time with the music, only stumbling in their steps occasionally, “You’re doing very well Ka’ra,” she looks up to the visor, a smile gracing her lips, but before she can speak she trips over her feet as they spin and he's there catching her, pulling her into him before she has a chance to fall. The laugh that escapes her causes his heart to clench and warmth blooms in his chest.

He wants to hear her laugh more.

He wants to cause that laughter.

———

The Mand’alor watches her as she tries to take in the next steps he showed her, a series of side steps and a flourish of a spin to end it. It was a simple end to the dance that they have been practicing for a while.

“Why do they call you Vizsla?” Shayr’la keeps her head down, memorizing the steps she’s taking. The question has been plaguing her for months but she never felt that there was a good time to ask, and if the name is soon to be her own she might as well ask now, “Is it really your last name?”

He steps to her before answering, pulling her into his arms, they start again when the beat begins its repeat, “No, no it is not.” He’s not surprised by her questioning and he's happy to oblige her. “A long time ago on another planet there used to be many of us, many different clans, many different leaders, Alor’s—”

She interrupts his explanation, looking up to him excited that she recognizes one of their words, “The children have called me that, I wasn’t sure what it meant.” There’s a sparkle in her eye. He can tell she wants to learn, that she wants to know more about them. She wouldn’t spend hours in the story halls translating and scribing the stories if she didn’t.

Paz is mistaken. She does belong here. She wants to be here.

Right?

“—yes,” he takes her hands pulling her into him bringing their bodies flush together, a small puff of air escapes her as one of his arms wraps around her waist, settling into the dip of her lower back. She looks up to him, it almost never fails that she finds his eyes and this time is no exception.

“You will be my wife,” he doesn’t mean for it to sound so possessive, but it does. And he likes it. Does she? “So in turn you will be their leader.” He spins her out, letting her go as far as he can, until they are only held together by each other’s fingertips. “That is, if you want to be.”

He pulls her back into him, his arms resuming their hold around her body. They’re close, so close , that if it weren’t for his helmet they would be breathing each other in, consuming one another.

If they wanted.

Shayr’la’s eyes dance across the emotionless helmet, forever seeing her own reflection looking back at her. Never the face beneath. She wonders what he looks like, if his eyes are as kind as she thinks they are. If his voice is just as rough and pleasant sounding without the modulator. Does he have stubble or a beard lining his face? Or does he shave everyday to keep it from irritating?

How does he look when he smiles?

He’s so caught up in her gaze that he hasn’t realized he’s stopped talking. Stopped moving. They’re just staring at each other. Wrapped up in each other’s arms. The Mand’alor drags his gloved hand up her spine sending a shiver through her body and pulling her out of her own thoughts.

“Mand’alor?” she whispers out, not wanting to break whatever is happening.

His hand rubs at the bare skin between her shoulder blades, he doesn’t know what he’s doing but he knows he doesn't want to stop. “I— sorry, Ka’ra,” he apologizes, his own voice just barely caught in his vocoder. Though he doesn’t take any movement to stop the drag of his hand along the edges of her dress at her back, or to separate himself from her embrace.

In a hushed tone she asks “Do you want to take it off?”

He cocks his helmet to the side in confusion and shock at her question. His hand stilling at her back with a finger hooking underneath the fabric there, “You— I—” the Mand’alor stumbles over his words as his brain tries to catch up to what Shayr’la asked him.

“What?”

Smirking at his bewilderment and finding his stupor amusing she wonders, “Do you ever want to take it off?”

“The helmet?” he slides his finger along the back of her dress, sliding up her shoulder. He plays with the fabric that lays gently there, almost teasing it. Moving it only slightly, gauging her reaction. He doesn’t see any objection in her eyes. No hesitance to his movement. Maybe only a hesitance in wanting to let herself crave.

She nods. Whether it be from his spoken, or unspoken question he doesn’t know. But he’s not going to argue with her.

Not when the leather of his glove drags across her skin. Caressing it. Feeling the warmth from her skin bleed through. How would it feel against his bare skin?

Against his palm?

His lips.

They can’t help but gravitate towards one another. Drawn in by something neither one wants to put a word to. Too afraid it could break. That it could shatter into a million pieces and then they would never be able to put it back together. So she looks away from him, eyes cast down to the few necklaces that lay against his chest. Reaching out to touch them, her fingers dance over the chains and beads there.

What do they mean?

“Recently.” His voice timid, just picked up by the helmet. Shayr’la closes her eyes at the feel of his gloved hand rounding her shoulder and dragging along her collarbone to rest at the base of her throat.

A pause.

A moment.

A break.

A swallow.

And then movement. His fingers curl around the back of her neck while his thumb caresses the hollow of her neck. He glides his hand up, tilting her head to look directly at him. Eyes open— wide, and dilated, and bright.

And there’s a fire in her stare.

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

———

Te redalur - the dance

Jor’adir be nuhur - celebration of good times

@mylifeliterally @tintinwrites @damerondjarin @shadow-assassin-blix @mikeisthricedeceased @djxrxn @theocatkov @buckstaposition @wrestlingfae @mostly-megan @tiffdawg @generaldamneron @softpedropascal @hardcorewwetrash @helplessly-nonstop @maybege @ollypopp @housekenobi @lettherebrelight @himbodjarin @the-bird-suit @obaby-wan @mitchi-c @nominalnebula @perropascal @roxypeanut @neverlandlibrarian @adampage @johnc0nstantine @goldafterglow @skylerrae-solo @bisexual-space-slut @sin-djarin @mandoplease @blue-writes-a03 @velvetmel0n @opheliaelysia @veuliee2 @eternallyvenus @gallowsjoker @mrpascals @thirstworldproblemss @smarchit @unstoppableforcce @haley-the-comet @stardust-galaxies @wanderlustmags @littlevodika @roxypeanut

(i have to tag the rest in a reblog because this website is stupid)(also can y’all let me know if you got the notification)

#the mandalorian #sw #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x oc #cl!din #julia tries writing

144 notes · View notes

showrunnerihardlyknowher · 4 years ago

Note

today i astral project giant, curious merboy w/ frightened researcher into your mind. tomorrow? who knows

Tomorrow is when you get your request filled you babey boi

“E-easy now, l-let’s ju-woah! Hey!”

It was too late for Stella’s squirming to do her any good as long, clammy fingers tightened themselves around her already battered body to lift her much higher than she would have appreciated. She couldn’t help a small wince when she felt her arms be uncomfortably squeezed against her ribs, the left side of which was undoubtably bruised from her topple earlier. The grip only pressed more at her pathetic struggles, forcing out her exhale much rougher than intended.

“Pl-lease,” she gasped, practically immobile in the creature’s hold which seemed to be the desired affect, “y-you’re hur-hurting me...!”

And just like that, the pressure that had once been constricting her disappeared. Even more wonderfully, solid ground seemed to return under her shaky legs which she was grateful to collapse. Or so she thought. A couple inhales sucked in to clear the splotches that pulsed in the corner of her vision revealed she had merely been traded from one hand to the other, trapped high above in an open palm as opposed to a clenched fist. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, she supposed.

Or fish, she supposed again.

With a shaky sigh, Stella forced her eyes up (and up and up) until they met with wide ones, blinking down at its tiny capture. She couldn’t keep up the staring contest very long, however, not with how unnerving those black scleras were. Instead, she found her gaze shifting towards its mouth that could certainly fit her inside in one bite, perhaps even a rowboat if it tried. At that moment, it chirped at her, something loud and grating and immediately making her cover her ears for protection, but not without getting a glimpse of those jagged fangs.

From a scientific standpoint, this was one of the most stunning discoveries in her career, hell, in anyone’s career in the history of marine biology. A genuine mermaid...er, man, if she were to assume based purely on physical observation. A dozen questions ran through her mind focused on understand how on earth each component of his body functioned. Respiratory, circulatory, vision, hearing, homeostasis, smell, bone structure and density, muscle to fat ratio, everything and more!

Unfortunately, she doubted those inquiries would be answered anytime soon, if ever.

The monster chittered again much more quietly, practically a rumble in his throat as his other hand hovered closer. Try as she might to flinch away, there was really no where else to go besides down into the icy waters below. She watched the thick claws adorning each finger inch closer, bracing for the sensation of being flayed like some sort of sick vengeance for all his seafood brethren she had ever eaten. Actually, given his size and muscular build alone, there was no way this thing was a vegetarian, so there better not be any judgement on that front!

Surprisingly enough, the claws just missed nicking any part of her skin in favor for the pad of his finger to rub against the top of her head, slowly, hesitantly even. Stella grimaced at the action but let it be, holding still as best her trembling form was able to while his petting built up more confidence, now sliding from her crown to where the coils ended at her shoulders. She let out a yip when he yanked her hair in an attempt to rub the foreign texture between his thumb and forefinger, immediately releasing the frizzy locks at the sound of her distress.

His curiosity didn’t stop there, however. She was well aware of the irony of the situation--the researcher being studied by the subject and all that (at least, she hoped that’s what he was doing rather than sizing her up for a meal). Considering this was her first time ever encountering a merperson during one of her weekend escapades along the coastline, it wouldn’t be too hard to imagine this was his first time meeting a strangely sized hybrid species as well. Maybe those local legends about sea monsters and sirens held a little bit of truth after all, he was certainly as destructive as the stories foretold of these deadly creatures.

And, the scientist side of her couldn’t help but reason with the merman. She was, after all, encroaching on his natural territory in a foreign vessel, was it truly so unexpected for it to attack? ‘Attack’ was perhaps too strong of a word. Investigate was more like it, the way it grabbed and shook her tiny boat in an effort to see what was inside this weird, floating habitat until she came tumbling out on deck. On the bright side, at least Lorelei coming down with strep the night before saved her research partner from meeting the same fate as her right now. On the downside, she was going to meet said fate alone, her true ending forever a mystery outside of these waters.

The question was: what the hell was her fate meant to be? The way his fingers and touches roamed her body continued to reassure her that she probably wasn’t going to be a menu speciality for another few moments, but beyond eating her, what other uses could he have for her? He pinched her legs and arms to bend at the joints, especially fascinated at how articulate her lower half was in comparison to his own. It was almost like he was looking for a tail where one should obviously be, trying to piece together how these two split fins could work together as one. His fingers brushed against her waist and trailing up to her neck. Gill placement, maybe? From just how close his nails were coming to her jugular, Stella feared she might just get a few extra breathing slits if she so much as hiccuped.

It was all well and good until the fingers glided back down over her chest, pushing past the soaked lapels of her coat to the swell of her cleavage, his claw eagerly slipping under the buttons of her blouse to pop a few off. Stella turned bright red, her body heating up so much that she was sure he could feel it against the cool flesh of his palm where she sat. With an indignant shriek, she slapped the digit away from her body, quickly covering herself with her lab coat as best she could.

“No, thank you!” She scolded, leveling a glare with the creature. “Don’t do that!”

She didn’t even have time to register what consequences might befall her actions of threat displaying a massive sea predator, not with how his ear fins flattened against his head and he jerked his hand away as if she had burned him with her touch. In his defense, he did look rather guilty, rumbling again in his throat like he was offering an apology. He tilted his head at her, repeating the noise and it was then she realized he probably didn’t actually know what was wrong, rather he was asking why it was wrong. Oh, yeah. Different species, different cultures, different takes on reproductive accessories.

“You just, y-you don’t touch people like that, okay?” He grumbled something at her and though she didn’t understand it, she knew that tone well enough to roll her eyes. “Because I said so. Why d-”

Stella froze. The monster was still pouting at her reply, but her lengthy pause paired with her suddenly shocked expression made him chirp again in question. She searched his eyes, now well aware of the deep blue iris hidden within the inky abyss around it.

“You...c-can you understand me...?”

He furrowed his eyebrows before giving a single nod. Uh, yeah, duh? I’ve been responding to you this entire time, haven’t I? is what the expression conveyed.

“Holy shit...” she whispered. A smile was quick to tug at her cheeks, looking back at him with twinkling brown eyes. “Holy shit! You can understand me! Y-you’re...you’re intelligent!”

The creature narrowed his gaze and she quickly held up her hands in a placating motion. “I-I mean, obviously, you were always intelligent, just i-in terms of, like...you know, whatever, let’s just start over, um...” She ran a hand through her newly tangled mess of curls, shaking her head in disbelief. “Oh my god, I don’t even know where to begin!”

A quick look down at her capsized boat had her reconsider. Stella wondered how much of her research and equipment inside was totally trashed as a result of being broken or waterlogged. Oh well. Literally none of that mattered right now, not when filters could be replaced and notes reprinted and one of the greatest specimens of her lifetime was three inches in front of her.

Biting her lip, she glanced between the boat and the merman. “Actually, do you, um, think m-maybe you could fix...that? And maybe put m-me down while you’re at it...?”

For a moment, he only blinked at her, silently debating her request. It was long enough to make her start to shift nervously, wondering if she had managed to misread the entire situation and was foolish to make such demands when she was still considered a food source. Thankfully, he complied and righted her boat with ease, gently depositing her on the slick deck. The rocking of the sea still caused her to slip and fall ass first on the ground, though it mattered little to her with the way her legs still felt like jelly.

A shadow engulfed her, trilling ringing in her ears from above which made her groan. “I’m fine, just...give me a minute here.” Slowly, Stella sat back up and pulled her legs towards herself until she could sit criss-cross, digging her (thankfully) waterproof handheld from her pocket to pop out the stylus, tapping and scribbling on the screen. The creature lowered himself deeper into the water until only his shoulders and above were visible, swimming around to the edge of the boat to try and see what she was doing on the tiny device. He braced his hands on the side of the hull, nearly capsizing it again, which was probably what he did the first time when she had been down in the cabin, and only letting go when Stella cried out at being toppled for the umpteenth time.

When the boat ceased most of its swaying, she fixed another sharp glare at the creature who hunched a little further into the salty waters. “Okay, rule number one, no more touching this boat. Got it?” She was half tempted to add or me in there, but...well, they could cross that bridge if something came up about that later. Regardless, he nodded at her and she sighed, repositioning herself to lean against the cabin door for a little extra stability.

“So, ever play twenty questions?”

#g/t #g/t writing #g/t fluff #my writing #giant/tiny #gianttiny #macro/micro #ask #ratpaps #mermen babyyyyyyyyy #another story in which i name my characters after my favorite students lmaooooo #send more prompts this is fun :D #yes i specifcally called you baby to piss you off nerd #also yes i spelt specifically wrong but i dont feel like deleting and rewriting the tag

90 notes · View notes

edens-breathless-melodies-moved · 4 years ago

Text

words: 3.5k

pairing: futakuchi k. x f!poc!reader

prompt: doggystyle

warnings: cursing, rough sex, slight degradation, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), choking, dacryphilia, spanking, hair pulling, a whole bunch of sexy times

summary: god, you just had to go get your hair done, didn’t you?

“fuck.”

that’s the only thing that comes to mind the moment futakuchi lays his eyes on your figure walking out of the salon.

chocolate brown orbs are locked onto your head with a worrying amount of concentration, raking over your new hairstyle with terrifying accuracy as his mind ran a million miles per hour. why did his pants feel tight all of a sudden?

you did say you needed to get your braids re-done for a while now.

_______

~ three weeks previously~

futakuchi groans as he flops onto the couch of your shared apartment, throwing an arm over his eyes as he does his best to ignore your constant whining that was still coming from the kitchen.

you just wouldn’t shut up about this, huh?

“all i’m saying!” he groans again as you continue speaking from the island counter, sharp (e/c) eyes never leaving the cutting board as you finely diced the onion that was going into tonight’s dinner.

“is that i think there should be more salons or hairdressers around that can cater to people with hair like mine!”

you huff as you finish with the onions, picking up the cutting board and swiping them into the saucepot with a graceful flick of the back of your knife.

“i mean come on!” with a role of your eyes you grab an already peeled potato from a bowl of water by your left, and place it onto the cutting board.

“it’s 2020 for gods’ sake!” your anger was being soley directed to the poor potato who didn’t stand a chance against your sharp knife and skilled hands. you continue on with your mini-rant, hands moving just as fast as your voice as you blow through the bowl of potatoes before turning on the heat and setting the pot they were in aside to boil.

futakuchi sighed as he removed his arm from over his eyes, a small smile on his lips as he continued to listen to you rant from the kitchen, brown orbs staying lazily trained on the shadows dancing across the ceiling.

he couldn’t really blame you for getting slightly really angry about the fact that finding a salon or hairdresser who knew how to handle your 3c hair was practically impossible.

you had moved to japan from america and started school at date tech at the very end of futakuchi’s second year, and to say you took the boy by storm was an understatement.

~~~~

the moment futakuchi had locked eyes with you as his teacher introduced you to the class, brown eyes peering into sparkling (e/c), he knew he was fucked, figuratively and, come later, literally.

you just looked so good in the school’s grey pleated skirt, and the shade of teal the jacket was against your caramel skin was so right. that same skirt came to rest a little bit above your plentiful thighs, curvy and toned legs covered just barely by your white thigh highs.

plump pink lips pulled into a shy smirk as you lifted a hand to brush a piece of hair behind your ear, and it was only as futakuchi’s eyes followed the movements of your hands that he realized it wasn’t a stray strand of hair you tucked away, but a braid.

his eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he took in the foreign sight of your box braids in full. they were a cute honey blonde, dark at the roots before slowly transitioning into the brighter color.

they were thin and a majority of them were pulled into a neat, tight bun on top of your head, leaving only two pieces to hang in front of your face, one of them now resting behind your ear.

god, you were gorgeous.

futakuchi was so caught up in the elegance that was your presence that he didn’t even realize his mouth had dropped open until aone reached across and physically closed it for him.

a small smirk appeared on the quiet giant’s lips as he watched his close friend and captain flush and flounder around, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment at the sight of the beautiful girl.

it was only until after you had finished your greetings to the class (to say he was shocked would be a disservice when he heard how fluent and natural your japanese was, though he guessed that your teacher wasn’t from tokyo seeing as you had the slight twang from the hyogo prefecture) and sat in the chair in front of him that futakuchi was able to reign in his emotions and placate his flustered expression before he made a fool of himself in front of you.

just as he finally settled himself and took a deep breath in, his eyes widened when you turned around and gave him a friendly smile, his heart beginning to pick up the pace rapidly.

he steadied himself quickly though, and shot you back a small smirk, quirking an eyebrow up as he took in your features closely.

pretty (e/c) eyes, plush pink lips, a small smattering of freckles across the bridge of your nose and cheeks. yeah, you were definitely cute.

“hello!” you started off, and futakuchi’s eyes visibly softened at the richness of your voice, settling over him like hot chocolate in the winter. “my name is (y/l/n) (y/n), but you already know that.” you let out a small chuckle, and his heart palpitated again.

“but it’s a pleasure to meet you anyways! what’s your name, classmate?” you asked lightheartedly before peering directly into his eyes, and futakuchi has never felt more vulnerable in his life.

there was something about the way you stared into him, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on but it made him slightly uneasy, like he was being inspected and analyzed.

it was only when you raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and those full lips twisted into a slight smirk at his prolonged silence that he realized it was the same look he gave an opponent on the other side of the net.

like he was playing with them.

a fire spread through his veins as he finally unfroze, body finally relaxing as he steadied himself. yeah, you were definitely a catch, and futakuchi wasn’t going to let you get the upper hand against him so easily. not when you offered such a tasty treat to him.

his smirk widened even more as he leaned towards you, chocolate orbs sharpening as he extended his hand out for you to shake.

“futakuchi kenji, sweetheart. and believe me,” his smirk grew into a grin, teeth glinting in the morning sunlight, and he accepted the silent challenge you issued against him just as you accepted his hand, “the pleasure is all mine.”

~~~~

he blinked slowly, coming out of his memories at the sound of you calling him from the kitchen, eyes still trained up lazily at the ceiling of your guy’s apartment.

“dinner’s ready babe! i already made your bowl, c’mon.” he smiled again as he lifted himself from the couch, heart warming when he entered the kitchen and you turned to smile up at him, eyes nearly crinkling shut.

he had asked you out two months into your third year after spending the previous months building up your friendship and genuinely clicking with one another.

it wasn’t a surprise he asked, but it was definitely a surprise when you launched onto him and wrapped yourself around him like a koala, saying how it took him long enough to finally man up.

(aone got a good laugh out of that and koganegawa had recorded his captain’s face flush bright red when you kissed him on the cheek, but we just gonna ignore that)

~~~~

~ present day ~

now here you guys were, four years strong into your relationship, and futakuchi can say with every fiber in his being that he can’t imagine a life without you.

he couldn’t possibly wake up and imagine not seeing your cute nose (which hid a septum piercing from him since the day you guys met), your cute cheeks, plush lips (which also hid a tongue piercing from him as well).

thick thighs

cute hands

nice ass

soft tits

and not to mention your gorgeous hair. now don’t get him wrong, he loves your natural hair when it’s out. he actually prefers it over your braids because he can’t get enough of your beautiful curls and how soft and silky your strands feel in his hands.

but something about you with waist length braids, how they feel when he wraps them around his fingers and pulls…

he gulps as you climb into the car, a wide smile on your lips as you gesture to your new braids. “well, what do you think, kenken?” you ask him honestly, eyes wide and hopeful as you wait for his opinion.

he swallowed harshly again as he took in the impressive braids, eyes trailing how they fit your face perfectly. you had gone for platinum blonde this time, and the way such a bright color contrasted with your skin made you look almost ethereal.

when you guys had found out that there was a fusion hair salon opening up in tokyo that was being run by a half-black, half-japanese man who was tired of the lack of representation, you nearly shot out of bed and drove there yourself.

the only reason you didn’t was because futakuchi had stopped you before you could get your keys, and the fact that it was two in the morning.

now in the beginning, both of you were a bit skeptical about how well they would come out, but now that you’re here in front of him looking like an absolute treat wrapped in gold leaf, he thinks it’s safe to say that everything’s,

“good.” futakuchi is able to get out, a steady pink dusting over his cheeks and spreading to his ears. “it looks really, really good on you, babe.” his blush worsens when you lean over the center console and kiss him, just a soft peck on the lips.

“i’m glad you like it, i love it, too.” a yawn broke off the end of your sentence, (e/c) half-lidded as the exhaustion finally hits you.

futakuchi let out a soft chuckle as he turned to face forward and started the car, shifting into drive before setting off back to the apartment.

“alright let’s get you home, sitting in that chair for seven hours can’t have been fun.” you nodded half-heartedly, eyes slipping shut as you begin to nod off, the feeling of your boyfriend’s large warm hand rubbing circles into your plush thighs lulling you to sleep.

it was only when he was sure you were asleep that he pulled his hand back and ran it over his face with a soft groan, careful to not wake you up. if only you knew just how much your braids affected him...

~~~~

well, turns out that you finally get to see only three days after getting your hair done.

“babe?! have you seen my hoodie? the tabitha swatosh one? I can’t seem to find it-” futakuchi cuts himself off with a choke, eyes growing wide as he peers into your equally wide (e/c) orbs, caramel cheeks tinged pink at being caught in the act.

you had just pulled the hoodie over your head and was wiggling your arms around in the giant piece of clothing before your boyfriend had come into the bedroom. said boyfriend was currently taking in your entire appearance.

his oversized yellow hoodie which was big on him absolutely drowned your figure, seeing as you were several inches shorter than him.

the sleeves came out way past your fingertips, and the end of the hoodie stopped just above your knees. if that wasn’t enough to make him feral, then your hair is what finally did the trick.

long, pale braids were pulled into two pigtails, giving you an almost childlike appearance. When you finally sheepishly smiled at him, eyes trained on the floor in embarrassment.

“sorry, kenken, i just wanted to wear something comfortable.” you sounded so cute and looked so delicious, futakuchi decided to say fuck it and gave in to his desires.

the squeal that ripped through your throat as he picked you up and tossed you onto your shared bed made him chuckle darkly, and futakuchi had to repress a groan deep in his throat as he looked down on you, seeing the confusion and beginnings of lust swirl through your clear (e/c) eyes.

“k-kenji!” you yelp, face flushing as he ran his large hands underneath the hoodie, pushing it up slightly as he begins to fondle your bare breasts.

you let out a soft moan as his fingers pull and twist your nipples, coaxing them into pebbled peaks as he chuckles again at the cute sounds you make.

“did you get all dressed up for me, baby? you didn’t have too.” he coos into your ear, tongue darting out to lightly trace your lobe as you let out a small shiver, body growing hot at his continuous teasing.

“n-no, i j-just wanted to wear s-something comforta-a-ahh…” your words dissolve into a moan as one of his hands left your breast to trail down your soft stomach before reaching your clothed pussy.

long fingers delicately stroked your mound before roughly digging into your clit, rubbing it in tight circles just as his lips come up to catch yours in a kiss, swallowing the yelp and moans that were forced from your throat.

your tongues battled for dominance as he continued to stroke your clit and pinch and pull on your nipples. pleasure was coursing through your veins like fire, and the only thing you could do was let it happen.

the need for air finally broke you two apart, breathing heavily while gazing at one another through hooded lids, a thin silvery string of saliva linking you two together.

futakuchi watched with greedy eyes as your face twisted in pleasure, cheeks rosy as your lips fell into an “o” shape, eyebrows pulled together as your back arched off the bed, whimpers and moans sounding like heaven to his ears as his fingers continued to work your soaking cunt. god, you looked so fucking good.

a startled gasp left your lips when suddenly your boyfriend’s fingers left your aching clit before grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your stomach.

a large hand came down and cracked against your ass, eliciting a mixture of a yelp and moan from your parted lips. chocolate eyes watched the fat jiggle, and it was like he was hypnotized.

another moan left your lips as you buried your face into the sheets, hands gripping onto the fabric as futakuchi manhandled you onto your knees, groaning softly in the back of his throat as he saw how your spine deliciously arched, hoodie having been pushed up to your chest.

his hand cracked down against your asscheek again, jolting you forwards slightly, a cry leaving your lips as you felt the beginnings of a welt throb on your soft skin.

futakuchi smirked as he brought his hand down to rub against the imprint of his hand against your hot flesh, his other hand tugging down his sweats to release his aching member, a slight hiss escaping him at the cool air nipping at his hot exposed flesh.

“k-kenji, please.” you whine, panties sticking uncomfortably against your soaked folds as you wiggle your ass impatiently at your boyfriend, turning around slightly so he can get a good look at your teary eyes.

the smirk on your handsome boyfriend’s face grew as he leaned to hover over you, thick cock pressing teasingly against your clothed entrance, forcing a pathetic whine to leave your lips.

“aww, does my pretty girl want me to fuck her open? want me to fuck her so hard that she’s nothing but a stupid drooling mess?” futakuchi cooed teasingly into your ear, hands rubbing soft but firm circles into your hips.

his cock twitched when you whined and nodded your head rapidly, tears building up in your eyes from desperation. another dark chuckle left him as he leaned back somewhat, one hand coming to push your soaked panties to the side while his other hand gripped his cock firmly at the base.

he guided his aching member to your soaked and twitching entrance, knocking his tip against it teasingly and soaking up the little mewls you let out.

“you sure you want this baby?” he questioned you mockingly, purposefully holding off on giving you what you so desperately craved for.

his smirk only grew meaner when you let out a small cry of impatience. “i haven’t even prepped your tiny little cunt yet,” he chuckled when you let out a growl.

before you could yell at him to just fuck you before you pounced on his dick instead, a choke left your lips as he thrusted the first couple of inches into you, stretching your unprepped walls apart with his fat cock, rendering you speechless.

futakuchi moaned deeply at the feeling of your tight, wet walls squeezing him and pulling him in deeper.

he didn’t even give you a chance to adjust to that before drawing his hips back slightly before burying the rest of his length into your tight walls, the plush tip of his cock kissing your cervix.

a broken moan left your lips, fingers clutching the sheets of the bed tightly, tears of pain and pleasure staining your cheeks as you bathed in the painfully delicious stretch.

your boyfriend gripped your hips tightly, leaning down to hover over your shaking form.

“but i knew you could take it anyway, you greedy little slut.” with that he leaned back and grabbed your pigtails, wrapping the long braids around his fist a couple of times before tugging your head back just as he slammed his hips back into yours, eliciting a scream from you and another groan from him as your walls clenched around him tightly.

from there, there were no hopes of saving you. his hips slammed into yours at a rough and nearly animalistic pace, pounding into your core unforgivably.

his strokes were hard and deep, knocking the breath from you each time you slammed in, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he continued to use your pigtails as leverage to pull you into his thrusts.

“f-fuck you feel so tight!” futakuchi hisses, his hips not once easing up on their unforgivable pace, sweat beading his forehead and covering both of your bodies like a thin sheet.

you can’t do anything but moan brokenly for him, the dull ache in your head from his constant tugging being outweighed from the immense pleasure of his fat cock slamming into you relentlessly.

out of nowhere, futakuchi releases your pigtails, but before you could fall into the bed, his arm snaps out and wraps around your throat, choking you slightly as he pulls your back to meet his chest, his hips angling just right so he slams straight into your g-spot.

you wail as he continuously thrusts into the spot that has you seeing stars, eyes unfocused as drool drips down your chin. futakuchi catches sight of your fucked out expression, tears still streaming down your face, and it only makes him want to fuck you harder.

you feel your orgasm rocketing towards you fast, and you know your boyfriend is close too because at that moment one of his hands sneaks in between your legs, strong fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles, sending your hurtling towards your orgasm.

“k-kenji, i’m - fuck! i-i’m gonna-” you try to warn him, but all he does is speed up his fingers, hips thrusting unrelentingly as he feels his peak coming up on him as well.

just as he’s about to tip over, your cunt clamping down on him deliciously, he sinks his teeth into the junction between your neck and shoulder, muffling his moans as he paints your insides, slowing his hips as he pumps you full of his cum.

the combination of the bite in your neck and the feeling of him releasing into you tips you over the edge, the tight coil in your abdomen snapping as you gush all over his cock, wailing and spasming from the force of your orgasm.

futakuchi gently rocks his hips into yours to help you ride out your orgasm, only stopping to lay your body gently onto the bed once you stopped twitching and spasming.

while you attempt to catch your breath, mind still reeling from such an earth-shattering orgasm, futakuchi can only stare at the mess between both of your legs in awe.

it’s only when you finally can breathe normally again that you notice him still staring, and you flush, slightly confused and embarrassed. “what are you looking at?” you whine, lightly nudging his thigh with your raised foot.

soft brown eyes full of awe and raw love meet yours, light brown hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he cocks his head to the side with a small, smug smirk. it makes your heart clench in your chest, swirling with love and lust at the sultry expression.

but all rational thought leaves your head as the words that leave your boyfriend’s lips make you want to curl into an embarrassed ball and die.

“i just made you squirt. i think i deserve a medal for that.”

taglist: @lovelypasteldreams @living-for-drama @arixtsukki @month-seasoning @bakarinnie

282 notes · View notes

reginamillls · 4 years ago

Note

for the prompts: nile & nicky playing chess, nile is obviously winning and joe finds it hilarious

asdgdsadsga I literally know nothing about chess btw

...

Joe watches from the other mood, amused, as he takes in the sight of his husband biting his lower lip in concentration. There’s a furrow in his brow that shadows his bright eyes slightly and a slight downturn to his lips. He’s not angry or frustrated, Joe would know those emotions better than anyone else, but he was very determined to win his game of chess against the newest addition to their family.

Too bad he was clearly losing.

Nile moves her knight, trapping Nicky’s king and essentially winning the game. She smiles up brightly at him, a little smug, but very relaxed compared to how she used to be with them their first few months together. Nile is finding her place in their family and the realization that she’s opening up to them so easily makes Joe smile warmly. He loved his new sister with his whole being, a feeling he knows Nicky shares equally.

Nicky moves one of his few pieces, being too stubborn to admit defeat early, and only snorts out a laugh at Nile’s proudly exclaimed “checkmate.”

Joe catches Nicky’s eye as Nile talks about the food Nicky will have to make her as the result of him losing yet another bet, and winks at his husband knowingly. Nicky narrows his eyes in return, a mock scowl graces his features and Joe laughs loudly from where he’s standing in the doorway.

“I should be fortunate that you didn’t bet away all our money again,” Joe says as he crosses the room, putting a hand on Nicky’s shoulder as he inspects the finished game board. “You keep him humble Nile, thank you.”

“If it means I get to pick out dinner I will gladly beat Nicky at any game.” Nile’s smile is radiating, bright in a way that makes everyone want to smile as well. Nicky and Joe share in her contagious happiness, feeling a little bit lighter in her presence, feeling a little bit more hopeful.

Andy is still mortal, Booker is still gone, and the memories of Merrick's lab still haunts their dreams. Their trauma isn’t going to go away soon, and their problems are still very much real, but they have each other.

They can take moments like these and remember to breathe, to be human, to be a family.

Nile helps them remember why they do what they do and Joe and the rest of his family will never stop being grateful that the universe gifted them with such a sister as loving and good as Nile.

“I will make your dinner as agreed, but I refuse to call it pizza.” Nicky exclaims over his shoulder as he makes his way to the kitchen, pausing to give Joe a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

That night Joe hides his laughter behind his glass as Nicky and Nile argue over the merits of a Chicago Deep-dish Pizza, and already has requests for different toppings for the inevitable time Nicky will have to make it again.

#tuseradriana #usercacau #usermarwan #useremmaa #tusermj #the old guard #kaysanova #nile freeman #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #my fics #totalnerdwrites #immortal husbands #prompts #filled #joenicky #the old guard fic #immortal family #joe-nicky

223 notes · View notes

reiven2017 · 4 years ago

Text

Delicate steel.

Chapter 2.

Raven wondered for a long time when this happened.

Her morning started quite early, but all she remembered was how, having discovered the opportunity, she immediately slipped out of the house and was about to walk, as at the most inopportune moment she was overtaken by a panic attack.

As if this is the right time.

She remembered only how at one moment it became dark in her eyes, and oxygen stopped flowing into her lungs. It was happening so violently and swiftly that Raven felt like she was dying. Fear slowly settled in the very center of her chest and that's it. One slightest fear filled her entire body. She remembered how she sank onto the wet asphalt, her body, legs, arms, head ceased to obey her and she was unable to stand on her feet. The breathless fit continued and seemed not going to stop and Rachel lost hope for a split second. She did not remember how much time had passed and how long she was already on the side of the road, when she caught the movement next to her, and then she was smoothly put on the curb. Raven was still tossing between panic and reality, but she could feel how all this time someone was carefully giving her water. The stranger seemed not for the first time to see such a development in front of him, his actions were clear and careful, just what Raven needed. And then, when she came to her senses and the stranger was still trying to offer her help and take her to the hospital, the girl thanked him dryly, but completely withdrew from persuasion. All Raven remembered was the man's pale blue eyes before he disappeared around the corner.

Rachel winced and remembered another attack without much enthusiasm. This shit was repeated to her without any schedule or even warning and Rei sometimes felt that her body was demanding her death. She could not control the work of her brain at such moments and it was quite irritating and problematic. It made her ... vulnerable. And that's exactly what Raven hated the most.

She had a rather bad habit of switching off and thinking for too long, so she was not embarrassed when a floating hand appeared in front of her eyes.

“Hey, if you’re not going to hang around here forever, I advise you to go home. - Raven dismissed the remarks of her classmate and he grunted in response, left the class.

She blinked a couple of times, returning to reality, and then her face took on her usual sullen expression and Rachel glanced at her watch. 8:30. The last lesson ended 40 minutes ago, which means that she was passed out all this time and Rachel moaned pitifully, dropping her head in her hands. She is confident that her mom is going to arrange an execution at home for another curfew violation.

Excellent.

She took the phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and turned it on and off. A couple of missed calls and threatening sms from my mother were highlighted on the screen of her mobile phone and Rachel decided that she would somehow sort it out later and, taking her bag with her, left the empty audience. In the school corridor she met only a couple of cleaners and two students, but they immediately disappeared into one of the school toilets and Raven had little interest in what they were going to do there. In the front, huge doors appeared and, wrapping herself tighter in her kurta, thrusting her hands into her pockets, Rei greeted the cold autumn wind with a shiver. It was late autumn outside and in Day, a fairly northern city, it felt a few degrees colder. Rachel let out a breath, mentally wondering if it was as cold in New York this time of year, and a warm cloud of steam began to billow from her lips. She followed this short journey of warm air and caught herself with a soft smile on her lips. It was strangely calm. Even though she still has a problem with her mother, Rachel continued to stand on the school porch, inhaling and exhaling air. Everything in this city was strangely calm and quiet, but Rachel didn't mind that much. She had been here for about two weeks and was satisfied with everything, and deep down Raven was ready to admit that she even liked Date. It was a small town, abandoned in the thicket of the forest, with its legends about heri and about the brave discoverers. It was not as famous as Las Vegas and not as densely populated as New York, but that was its sweet charm.

Raven rubbed her hands, trying to rid her body of the approaching cold. She frowned, increasing the friction between her palms, but she was still cold and Raven wasn't sure if it was the weather. There was a short whistle and Rachel reflexively paid attention to it, lifting her head and fixing her gaze on the forest in front of her. Dusk had already fallen on the street, so the huge tundra and the trees in front of it were several shades darker, but it did not look frightening, one could say that Raven liked just such a forest more. Dark but quiet and calm. Maybe her gothic nature was played out in her, but in Raven there flashed a fleeting desire to walk there, but ... she was sure that the sound came from there. Rachel shivered chilly and rolled around in place, looking around.

Several minutes passed before Raven's phone rang again and the girl frowned in resignation. If she continues to be here and not at home, Raven is not entirely sure that she will have a home at all. She threw a last glance at the night forest, saying goodbye to him for today and ... froze in indecision. If it was a stupid game of her sick mind, then she gave her brain minus 10 points for a bad joke and asked to bake it in the hospital. In the very center of the forest, where a huge black hole gaped and it seemed that all objects in it were disappearing, there were two glowing lights. They did not move, did not move, even when a gust of strong wind blew and Raven grabbed the bag on her shoulder more tightly, they did not flinch, continuing to loom in the very center. Rachel frowned, a fine line on her forehead, but in her mind she felt a lump of fear slowly creep down her throat. As if even the air froze in tension, afraid to move in front of this devilry and deathly silence fell, Raven literally felt how life had stopped, and her heart was pounding anxiously. Part of her analytical and rational brain insisted that this was some kind of misunderstanding, but something was wrong in these lights. They shone with a bright, yellow light and they seemed to be conscious, as if someone, or something, was looking at her from there. Rachel narrowed her eyes, swallowing nervously and mentally urging herself to calm down.

Of course, we did not have enough to make friends with the Martians Rachel Roth.

It was the first thing that flashed through her thoughts, before Raven's eyes involuntarily widened with horror and instantly enveloped in a wave of fear. The blood in her veins became a lump and Rachel was sure that she had stopped feeling the pounding of her heart. The lights moved and after a split second, it seemed a huge, black spot, dimly resembling a muzzle, half hidden in shadow with eyes glowing with a bright yellow light and looking directly at her.

Hell…

Rachel blinked, unable to really accept in front of her and when she opened them, neither the eerie glowing lights, nor the unknown creature was already gone. In the blink of an eye, the air became alive again, the sounds returned, in the distance there was the noise of passing cars and the dead silence evaporated.

Raven swallowed hard, looked around the darkening forest and turned sharply, walked as far from this place as possible. She did not turn around, but with each step she took, she increased her speed, remaining with the only thought in her head - to bring down.

When some ass happens, it's never too late to dump Rachel Roth.

===========

Damian sat back wearily in his desk chair, massaging his face with his hands, hoping to get the paperwork out of the way as soon as possible. Unfortunately, questions from the pack were not resolved by themselves and for a long time hung over the younger Wayne as a heavy pendulum of danger and the guy ditched the whole evening for this. Sometimes Damian began to regret that he lived in the modern century, and not in the Middle Ages, where all questions and reflections were solved alone by the menacing growl of the alpha.

He frowned again at another piece of paper with numbers, as his ears caught on the first floor the joyful exclamations of his mother and Damian mentally whined knowing perfectly well who could deserve such a warm welcome. Grayson. The happiest ass in the world and also his older brother. He was aware of his arrival ... well, of course, his entire family and some members of the pack kept buzzing about it throughout the week, causing more and more irritation in Damian. Not that he hated Richard, he was as unbearable as his brothers ... well, he had some advantages over Jason, but several rather stupid personalities once said that they were not happy to see the gloomy cloud of the younger Wayne at the head of their pack, and would gladly replace him with the sunny boy Richard Grayson. After that, Damian was completely furious. He himself did not understand how his older brother manages to be so liked by people, but even to some extent he envied Grayson ... although, on his deathbed, he would not dare to admit it even to himself. So, now he wanted to feel like a 17-year-old teenager and lock himself in his office, gloomily ignoring what was happening. So he did, and even when he heard how his whole family spilled out on the first floor and Talia displeased asking about where Damian had gone, the guy stayed where he was.

It didn't take long before his secret hideout was discovered and loud footsteps were heard, and the next minute Grayson's pretty face appeared in the doorway.

Ugh you.

Damian wasn’t quite sure he hadn’t said it out loud.

- And I'm glad to see you too, brother. Richard opened his bear hug and a smug grin spread across his face.

“Don't be like Jason, Grayson, degradation doesn't suit you. Dick ignored Damian's disgruntled grumbling as he brushed him off and walked over to the table.

- And you become like the old grumpy wolf Demi.

“Forgive me for upsetting your hopes. Wayne was going to continue to ignore Dick, but as the man approached his desk, Damian didn’t consciously stiffen. Either Grayson had successfully changed his perfume, or some strange, but rather disturbing, smell appeared in the room. Wayne looked up from the pile of papers and sucked in air through his nose with all his might. The pupils of his eyes dilated as if after a strong rush of adrenaline into the blood, and his brain slowly floated. Smell. A subtle, almost imperceptible scent made Damian's blood burn hot as fire, and his wolf whined inwardly.

Dick watched the change in his brother's face with a mixed expression and stepped back reflexively as Damian rose abruptly from his seat, never ceasing to sniff. All the same, he is a young alpha ... what can get into his head Richard had no purpose to know. But when Damian seemed unable to find anything within a radius of a meter, approached Dick and began to sniff with the same eagerness, the man could not help laughing.

- Wow, take it easy, I understand that you missed me, but can we limit ourselves to hugs? - but Damian obviously did not listen to him and did not hear. He, like an instinct, walked around Grayson's circle, sucking in air and seemed not to notice what was happening while in his world. He eagerly grabbed his brother's hands, sniffing and froze for a moment in that position. Several seconds passed before he returned to the starting position and without opening his eyes, clenching and unclenching his fists, he firmly asked and was surprised at how unfamiliar his voice sounded. His question turned more into a kind of command and a rude uterine growl, which are on the verge of little politeness.

“Now Grayson, you’ll tell me in detail about your day. - a mute question arose between them in the air, when Dick raised an eyebrow inquiringly, being in confusion from his brother's rudeness and strangeness, he wanted to joke about the change in the mood of the young alpha, but stopped ... Damian finally looked up at Richard ... eyes bright and burning with green flame ... Grayson swallowed involuntarily and tensed, mentally preparing for something bad.

#damirae #demonbirds #ravenrot #raven #damian wayne #fanfic

25 notes · View notes

agent-cupcake · 4 years ago

Text

Garreg Mach Café

Episode One: Dead Eye (Dimitri x Reader)

Yes this is a coffee shop AU and yes I intend to do a few of these because I am basic and this is fun to work on while violently procrastinating and yes I’m a little sorry. Just a little.

From the moment you keyed your employee code into the machine and clocked in until your shoes met the cracked pavement covering the parking lot out back, the hours you spent selling coffee and faking smiles were slotted into a strange fugue state in your mind. Existence in only the most technical sense.

Morning shifts were the worst for that sense of customer service depersonalization. After the initial rush, which you usually got through with the crutch of obscene amounts of caffeine and focus, weekdays always fell away into an exhausting kind of lull. You might as well have been living in a private world where only you, the radio with a station you weren’t allowed to change, and a minifridge of overpriced mineral waters that needed restocking existed. Which was pretty fine, all things considered. The downtime was nice.

Until you were disturbed by the swooshing sound of the opening door, a rush of cold outside air, and the distinctively familiar jingle of bells. At this point, you were pretty sure that perky tinkling sound activated some sort of twisted fight or flight mechanism deep in your gut. Despite that, you stood up straight from organizing the display and put on your best service smile, sidling up to the register. Just in time to have the air knocked right out of your lungs.

Well, not literally. You were pretty sure that cliché was a line used in books to convey the inherent frailty of the female condition. There was no such romanticism to your reaction. It would have been more accurate to say that your caffeine-hyped brain shorted out when you got a good look at the customer who had just come in because you were simple and weak and that amount of handsome on your abysmal amount of sleep made you forgot how to breathe for a moment or twenty.

The most obvious and immediately striking aspect of the man was the eyepatch. Not some basic pastel goth kind of white bandage attached with ribbons, but a properly utilitarian black piece that cut harsh lines of black across his pretty blond hair. Had you ever seen somebody in real life wearing one? Your spastic thoughts lingered on that for a second before deciding it didn’t really matter. It was barely even a factor in your undoubtedly impolite staring. You dealt with exhausted people from every demographic while selling, making, and serving coffee. Snappy, loopy, mean, giggly, you knew sleep deprivation in nearly every form and function. Never did you realize in full that it also came in its premium form: devastatingly handsome.

He was gorgeous. Like, drop-dead level gorgeous. So, yeah, maybe it wasn’t too corny for you to say that this tall blond with a sharp jaw, nice cheekbones, and broad shoulders covered in a dark blazer/blue sweater combo of expensive if understated business casual took your breath away. You were, after all, occasionally subject to the frailty of the female condition.

Be professional! Your sane mind —or at least the part that wasn’t dominated by the giddy mix of shy nerves and creepy admiration— urged.

Right. Professional.

“Good morning!” you greeted him with belated cheerfulness, managing to pull your jaw up from the floor before he stopped in front of the counter. “Are you ready to order, or do you need a moment?” He didn’t respond at first, which almost made your smile falter. His eye, ringed in the telltale shadow of a sleepless night, was blue. Really, ultra blue. You forced yourself to keep up the act, to stick to the script. “If this is your first time here, I could walk you through the menu.”

The man cleared his throat, shaking his head a little as he glanced —awkwardly, like he wasn’t actually looking but he needed a reason to avert his gaze— up to the menu. He’d gathered about half of his longish hair into a tail in the back, but the shorter strands framing his face fluttered with the movement. Did you have a thing for guys with long hair? You couldn’t remember, but you were pretty sure you did now. “No… Thank you,” he replied somewhat apologetically. His voice was low, holding this kind of rough, husky tone. In other words, it was nearly enough to send you right back out of your customer service mode and into a swooning catastrophe. “Could you make a dead eye?”

The request was made, accepted, and then it registered. And, really, you liked to think you were a good person. You really, really did.

“A dead… eye…” you repeated slowly, internally screaming at yourself to not stare at the glaring black eyepatch covering his right eye or crack a smile at the horrible joke. Good Lord. You didn’t like to think that you were a bad person, or a mean person. You were a professional, you’d dealt with a lot while keeping a straight face. So you cleared your throat. “A black coffee with a triple espresso shot, right. Is that to go?”

“Yes,” he agreed with a sharp nod, ready with cash and very obviously not realizing the dark humor of what he’d ordered or the reason you were trying very, very hard not to make this all very, horribly awkward. No, he looked exhausted. And attractive. You were a very bad person. So you told him the total and broke the twenty and quickly turned to make the drink because a good cup of coffee was just about the only way you could apologize for your wicked, terrible thoughts.

Since there were no other customers queuing up, he was fine to wait at the counter, watching you make the drink. You pretended like you couldn’t feel his intense gaze, bobbing your head to the piped-in indie music playing in the background. The song was awful, truly, you really didn’t think there was anything you wanted to hear less than some young nobody with a guitar butchering the English language in an ode to their unrequited love. At the very least, not at ten-thirty in the morning on a Tuesday. At least you didn’t mess up, so there was something to be said for your so-called professionalism.

“Here you go,” you said as you handed him the to-go cup with as wide of a smile as you could muster all the while working very, very hard not to think that it was a dead eye for a dead eye. You were going to hell.

Ignorant to your thoughts, he met your gaze intently —his iris wasn’t any sort of bright, intimidating electric blue, but something softer like cornflower or powder or the dreamy gentle pale afternoon sky— and accepted the cup with a black gloved hand. “You have my most sincere thanks.”

You heard yourself laugh a little in response, but it was a bright and overly jittery sound, not only because you were trying desperately to be polite but because you couldn’t help but feel a bubble of strangely excitable disbelief that he would be so serious about something that was so mundane. Not to mention the fact that he was so handsome or that his voice was as candid as his words implied and gruff in a way you really liked. At the very least, it drove out all intrusively poor taste jokes.

“Oh, it was nothing,” you said, the words coming from your lips without so much as a thought that it was definitely not apart of the preapproved corporate script. “Wait ‘till you see what I can do with the mixed drinks.”

He considered you for what felt like ages before finally nodding. “I will look forward to it.” Despite the lack of irony, there wasn’t even a hint of a smile playing on his lips to match your own. Just more of that discomforting, intense sincerity that you couldn’t tell if you liked or not. And that was basically the end of that because you had no idea what to say other than to wish him a good day. He left, your handsome strange customer, the bells jingling merrily behind him.

After the door closed to the temperamental winter air, you melted, bracing your arms on the counter as you felt jittery nerves work through you. It took a moment to collect yourself, but when you did, you realized that he’d left a great tip, too. Fantastic tip, actually. Which, ultimately, was what got you. There was something uniquely sexy about rich guys who were kind to the underpaid and overworked wait staff.

That comforting customer service fugue state didn’t return after that. You were too caught up wondering about his name, or why he was so tired that he’d need such a potent drink, or if you were to take his words to mean that he was coming back. You probably shouldn’t have hoped for that as much as you did, but you could blame it on the inherent frailty of the female condition.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fe dimitri #fire emblem dimitri #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd x reader #fe dimitri x reader #fire emblem dimitri x reader #my writing #this is dumb #i don't care #yuri or felix next #probably #maybe #who's to say #i've been reading rhythm of war and it's TOUGH so i need cute

101 notes · View notes