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lord-explosion-baku · 3 years

Text

Tease

Yuuji Itadori x reader x Ryomen Sukuna

Warnings: noncon, dark themes, teasing, slight daddy kink, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, Sukuna’s big stomach tongue doing nasty things, very slight anal play

You’ll never admit that you love this game.

The “tease Yuuji until he’s grumpy, needy, and pouting—all because you refuse to fuck him” game.

There’s something about having your boyfriend nuzzle up in the crook of your neck, wrap his strong arms around you, and pull your ass against his hard, neglected cock, only for you to turn him down, and have him whine for it some more. You laugh and act abashed, but you’re really thinking, ‘Poor Yuuji. When will he ever learn?’

What you should’ve been asking yourself is ‘when will he ever crack?’

Because maybe you arch your back a little too slowly, and maybe you rub up against him a little too much, and when he kisses the back of your neck, maybe you sigh a little too longingly—a little too convincingly—and maybe you drive Yuuji a little too crazy.

“Baby,” he rasps, before ghosting his lips down your neck. His hand runs circles around your stomach, before slowly trailing down to the hem of your skirt. He toys with the waistline, shifting his fingers in and out, barely grazing your skin, then reaches for your button. “Please.”

Grabbing his hand and pulling it up to your lips, you laugh and say, “that’s far enough.”

A deep, permeating groan builds up in the back of Yuuji’s throat. It tumbles out when he shifts his hips forward, and his clothed cock slides between your cheeks.

“Sweetheart,” you chide, and turn in his embrace. Lust-heavy, brown eyes bore into yours. His face is rosy with frustration, and by just a quick glance downwards, you can see that the front of his shorts have a small, wet mark, right where his erection pops out. You try not to grin, and instead say, “it’s not the right time.”

Though your actions betray your words, because you scoot closer to Yuuji in your shared space on the couch. His dick presses against your pubic bone and slides up to your stomach. There’s a sharp inhale, and Yuuji’s cheeks inflate, as if he’s trying not to explode.

“You’re killing me,” he blows out. “Sending your boyfriend straight to his grave.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic.” You laugh while turning his chin to the side to expose the column of his neck. Smirking, you rake your teeth up his throat, relishing the shudder he gives off, his fingers curling into your shirt.

“I want you,” he hisses. “I want you so bad, baby. It’s not fair. Can't you just—just touch it. Just a little bit. It’s aching, baby. Aching for you.”

“Yuuji,” you croon, using his broad chest to level yourself up. You dig your claws into his pecs, causing him to release a low groan. “You love me, right?”

“Of course.” His voice is hoarse with need, just how you like it.

“And you’d do anything for me, right?”

His cheeks are pinker than his hair when he whispers, “yeah-huh.”

Dipping your head down so that your lips are a razor’s edge away from his, you ask, “then you can wait for me, right Yuuji? You can wait, and when it’s the right time, I’ll be sure to make every second worth it to you.”

A croaking noise cracks out of Yuuji’s throat. Goosebumps appear on your legs when he slides his fingers up your thighs, then tightens his hold on your hips, and pulls you down to grind against his dick. It presses against your opening, putting pressure on your clit. Your stomach does a little flip when he asks, “feel how hard it is, baby? Fuck, all I want is to feel you sink onto my cock, y’know. Stretch your tight lil walls. I'd be so careful with you too. Never hurt you.”

Cute, but you already know that.

“Tell me what you really want,” you whisper as your hips begin to roll, your center bobbing up and down his shaft. Yuuji pulses underneath you, his mouth falling open on a shaky exhale.

“Dick you down, hard and good-“ his mutter is practically a groan, his fingers digging into your sides-“hear you cry. Make you regret taking so long.”

Your excitement grows more palpable, your cunt throbbing. “More, Yuuji.”

Blushing, Yuuji gives you more.

“I wanna play with you too. Eat your little pussy until you're trembling, begging to cum. You probably taste so good. So slick and warm. I’ll see you fall apart—break even, and before you get to cum, I’d have you choke on my cock. Your lips are so perfect, I know they’d feel so fucking hot wrapped around me. I think about it all the time.”

“Do you, now?” It’s news to you, but you like it. Yuuji has a bit of a dark side—something you’d like to explore. Leaning down to flick your tongue across his earlobe, slow and sensuously, until you suck him in, relishing how his body tenses up, your body vibrates when his voice breaks on a shuddered gasp. Lowly you ask, “want me to be your slut? Make me take your cock like a good girl? Swallow all of your hot, tasty cum?”

“Fuck. Yes.” Yuuji greedily palms your ass, his thumbs creeping towards your core. When he reaches it, he teases you through your panties, sliding up and down your vulva. “God, you’re wet. I knew you’d be, but—shit.”

Moving an arm around your waist, he presses his knuckle against your clit, soothing it up and down. You twitch, following his touch, sighing softly as he exerts a little more pressure. His other hand trails up your back, until he twists his fingers through your hair, and pulls you into a deep, consuming kiss. His lips are hot, and wet, and needy. His tongue, desperate to taste you, teases your lips open and laps up your moans.

“You want it, too.” Yuuji breathes huskily, petting your hair back. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

Your body flushes, liquid heat shooting down your belly to pool at your center. Yuuji sort of half-laughs, then proceeds to pull your damp panties to the side. However, the moment he reaches for the hem of his shorts, you grab onto his wrist and tut at him. His brows narrow in outrage, but he doesn’t say anything.

The difference between his strength and yours is monumental. Everyone knows how capable he is—his sheer power. He could easily throw you back against the couch and pounce on you, rutting into you to show you your place. It makes you curious. Being thrown around a bit seems like it could be fun. Yuuji asserting his dominance could be even more fun.

But he doesn’t throw you. What he does is far worse.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and it’s not what you want to hear, but there’s a glint in his eye. It’s hard to tell if it really is guilt, or something else.

It’s something else.

Something like black carvings or tattoos appear on his face, arms, and chest. His body shakes, and soon, two powerful arms grow out from under his natural pair, and the slits under his eyes open to reveal scathing, red irises.

No.

Not him.

“Yuuji,” you whisper warily. Your fingers tremble as they reach for your boyfriend’s cheek. “Yuuji, please come back.”

But before your hand can make contact with his face, the monster wraps his fingers around your wrist, yanking your arm back as one of his other three hands snatches your other wrist. He’s quick to lean up and pull you closer so that your breasts push up against his hard, bare chest, your legs wrapped around his torso, and his cock pushing against your ass.

Lips wobbling, you make another pitiful attempt to call Yuuji back to you, but the words don’t come out right. They’re strangled and choked and-

“Pathetic,” the monster in front of you drawls. Keeping your wrists clasped together, he uses a free hand to wipe a renegade tear away from your hot cheeks. “Already crying and I haven’t yet done anything to you. Oh, there’s no need to pout, little one. Daddy’s here.”

Finally, you have enough sense in you to fight back, but it’s all for naught. Even though you try to kick, and you try to bite, and you try to wriggle yourself free, it’s all hopeless. His hold on you is vice, and if anything, he looks amused at your sorry struggle.

Your defiant gaze meets his, and despite the tears streaming down your cheeks, you muster the willpower to bare your teeth at him, and snarl. As if he could ever be intimidated by the likes of you.

He snarls right back, taunting you, making light of your hapless effort to try to threaten him. You jerk back in response, not realizing that you’d be pressed against his hard length. It throbs between your thighs. Your eyes go wide, and in response, the curse snickers.

“Keep wigglin’, girl,” he jeers, free arms moving around your back to lock you in place. “Feels good on my cock.”

Rebelliously, you still, hoping to make it so he gets the least amount of pleasure out of this as possible. If he’s going to kill you, you’d like to go out with some dignity.

As if reading your mind, he tuts at you, just like you did with Yuuji, then moves his cheek to nuzzle against your neck—a mockery of a lover’s touch. The soft charade ends before you can pretend it’s nice, though, because soon his tongue laves out, drawing a wet streak up your throat, before he briskly bites down, sucking harshly on your fragile flesh.

A scream burbles out of your esophagus, but it does nothing to ease the pain the curse is inflicting on you. One of his hands moves up your chest. It gropes your left breast, thumb and forefinger twisting your nipple. He sucks and licks until you’re sure he’s left a giant mark on your skin, and when he’s happy enough with his work, he begins kissing you down your neck, to your collarbone, then to your jaw.

A unique languor disperses throughout your body, sucking your desire to fight. You don’t know if it’s because you’ve tired yourself out, or if you’re just…relieved he’s not hurting you—not in a way that you never wanted Yuuji to, anyways. That doesn’t mean you’re giving up.

There’s one thing you haven’t tried yet, and though it seems your throat to do it, you have no other choice but to try.

“Please,” you begin, feeling lower than dirt at having to beg for your release. “Let me go. I can’t do this…”

“And why should I?” He whispers, cool breath blowing against your cheek.

“Yuuji, he—“

“—offered me a deal,” the monster admits, all teeth. “So long as I don’t inflict any permanent damage on you, and he can feel everything we feel, I can do with you as I wish.”

No. Yuuji would never.

“You’re lying,” you murmur, although when you think about it, you’re not sure. Yuuji had…an odd expression right before the other appeared.

“Whether you believe me or not doesn’t matter to me. I’m in control now, and, little girl, it’s been so long since I’ve had my way with a woman. I plan to cease every second of this. Whether you’re willing or not, I will take you, and oh-“ his voice drops an octave when he says, “I promised him that you’ll like it too. Not that that will be any trouble.”

Unceremoniously, his tongue sweeps your lips, and even though you try your hardest to keep your mouth, when sharp teeth bite down on your bottom lip, you grant his access with a yip.

The kiss is leisurely, like he has all the time to waste on molding his lips to yours. His tongue stroke against yours. Beside yourself, you melt into him, picturing it’s Yuuji you’re touching. He hums, seemingly content with your compliance. When he pulls away, his smirk makes your heart jump. His eyes, Yuuji’s eyes, are still so soft. Deceiving.

He lifts you so he can get a better look at your body. Hands roaming your body, he gazes at you appraisingly, and says, “I’ll admit that the brat has good taste. You’d be the perfect woman if you weren’t such a prude.”

With that, Sukuna tears your shirt off your chest—the flimsy and annoying obstruction—to reveal the sheer bralette underneath. Your nipples press against Sukuna’s hands, hardening when he palms you covetously. His smirk widens.

“Not a prude,” he muses darkly, “a tease.” He pinches your nipples hard, making you half-cry, half-moan. “That was cute. You’re gonna be fun.”

“I don’t want this,” you pant, hating the sound of desire coating each word. “I don’t…”

“No?” The curse—the monster—looks amused, a dark gleam in his eyes. A sharp fingernail trails down your bare stomach, and you shudder as heat rushes towards your center, and down between your thighs. Sensing your inner response, he sneers up at you, and in one horrifying second, your boyfriend’s body splits open, revealing a dark, cavernous hole in his stomach. It contorts in an odd way until sharpened teeth, and a long, pink tongue appears. The stomach grins, right before its tongue slowly licks up your center.

The shrieking begins when the licking doesn’t stop. The slow, rhythmic laps soak through your panties. It moves in an undulating motion, thick and wet, forcing you to ride it like a mechanical bull. It’s so strong that even when you close your thighs around it in hopes of maybe squeezing it enough to hurt, it doesn’t do anything except make the monster below you chuckle. It’s completely violating you, not only licking your pussy, but your ass too. Everything is so wet, and sensitive, and hot, that soon your crying evolves into moans, and you can’t help but clench on top of this intrusion.

“Such a responsive little slut for someone who doesn’t want this.” One of the curse’s four hands pets you down your bare back, until it lands on your ass. He gives it an appreciative squeeze, first to feel you, to claim you, then to hold you in place as his stomach tongue begins vibrating at a high intensity.

“No,” you whimper when you begin to feel something coiling up on the inside. The pleasure is so startling, so intense, that you begin to mewl. You’re begging, but you’re unsure if it’s for him to stop, or if it’s for him to let you cum.

With two hands still holding your wrists together, and the others now sitting behind his head to cushion him, he watches with moderate interest as you come undone.

“That’s a good girl,” he purrs, “you want to cum for me, little one? Let me taste your pleasure?”

“No,” you say again, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to picture you’re anywhere else. “Yuuji.”

The curse tightens his eyes and groans.

Suddenly, the stomach-mouth closes, and you’re lifted up, your panties pulled to the side, and placed back down, his palm pressing into your cunt. Without registering what is happening, you blink at him, a question building in your foggy mind, but you never get to ask it.

Something warm slides up your slit, flirting with your opening. It twirls around your clit, and you begin to shake, realizing that it’s another tongue. He’s eating you out from the palm of his hand, and it only intensifies your tension. You’re burning from the inside out, your pussy pounding as the tongue slides in and out…in and out.

“Say my name,” he hisses, jaggedly, like he’s barely keeping it together. “Say my name, and I’ll take pity on you.”

“Ah…fuck…” Resolve crumbling, you fall forward and onto his chest. His fingers rake up your back, only intensifying your pleasure. Your hips wheel around, chasing his palm…his tongue…your ecstasy.

“Say it,” he commands. The palm’s mouth closes around your clit and starts to suck. Holding back your moans becomes unbearable. It’s all you can do to stop from screaming again, and even then, it’s not much.

“Sukuna!” You plead, tears dotting your eyes. “Please—ah! Please let me cum! Sukuna please, god!”

“So good, little one,” Sukuna coos, “so sweet.” He sucks and nibbles and licks amplify, and you squirm and gyrate against his tongue, barreling towards what was before a very elusive edge. You go over with a trilled moan, trembling, crying, euphoric.

Absolutely devastated.

And it’s not over. He’s not done with you.

Before you can stop vibrating, Sukuna pulls you up against him, lining you up with him. His cock head pries at your center, breaching your surface when he kisses you roughly. It's a vicious and animal, all encompassing kiss, like he’s been starving for it.

“Sit on it,” he instructs. His hands move up and down your sides, either to comfort you, or to remind you that he could force you down if he was so inclined. “Slide down on my cock like a good girl. I want to be buried inside of you.”

When you begin to descend, Sukuna sharply snaps his hips upwards, forcing himself in urgently. The sudden intrusion is enough to make you yip, your body set aflame. Sukuna’s—Yuuji’s pupils expand, his eyes growing darker as he watches you struggle to take him in. There’s no time to get used to his size. He’s moving, and you have no choice but to react. Reluctantly, you stretch for him, and he slowly moves out, only to harshly push back in.

“Beautiful,” he rasps. The praise sends shivers up your spine, and makes you pulse around his cock. You’re sure the evil bastard can feel it, too, because he cups your jaw, and exalts you. “Pretty girl, you feel so good. So tight. A natural submissive, too. Isn’t that right?”

You’re about to object, and when he senses it, he pulls you off of him, and throws you to the floor. You have no time to run, because he climbs on top of you, shoves your head down to the floor, and pulls your ass up.

“When I ask you a question, you answer me,” he rumbles against your neck. It’s violent, but one hand is still on your ass, caressing you soothingly. “You say, ‘yes, daddy’ like my sweet little girl. Unless you want me to treat you as a cum-dumpster—some whore to spill my seed in.” His thumb begins stroking your ass hole, and your body shivers in anticipation. “In any hole that I want. Do you understand me?”

“…yes, daddy,” you weep into the carpet and pray for this to end soon.

Sukuna guides his shaft back inside of you, and it presses against a spot that makes vision darken for a second. He’s relentless when he drives into you, over and over again. His heat surrounds you, weight pressing you into the floor. His large hands rub your skin, petting you all over, and the caresses almost make this intimate, until his touch, again, travels to your other hole.

Trepidation pumps through your blood, making you squeeze his cock. The fear is something electric and addictive, and it has you warbling. He groans, picking up his pace, but his thumb doesn’t leave its place.

“Are you afraid, little one?” Sukuna’s timbre takes on a darker edge. “Scared I’m gonna do the same thing to your ass that I’m doing to your beautiful, fucking pussy?”

The right answer eludes you. You’re not thinking. Your walls close around Sukuna every time he speaks. Every time he pushes himself to his hilt, fills you up, and claims you. By the tears staining the carpet, you can assume that yes. You’re very afraid.

“Yes, daddy,” you mewl, right before Sukuna twists his fingers into your hair, and pulls you back. Two arms wrap around your stomach, squeezing you to him, and his last hand reaches around you to rub circles around your too-sensitive clit. “Ohhh, god. Yes.”

“You should be.” He latches onto your neck and sucks violently. You scream as your second orgasm rips through you, forcefully shaking your entire body as Sukuna hammers into you, his pace kiltering off. He’s about to chase you.

“Daddy, please, no…” not inside. Not inside.

Sukuna scoffs, gives you several more cruel pumps, then pulls out, straining you to fall on your back so he can stroke himself off, spraying hot, white ropes of cum across your hot stomach.

“Mine,” Sukuna declares. He smoothes his hand over your sweaty belly, spreading his cum across your skin. “The next time you tease the brat, I’ll take more than your pretty pussy, little girl. That’s a promise.” He dips down low to glide his tongue up your cheek. “So don’t you hesitate to call on me again.”

Then, the marks and the arms disappear, the second pair of eyes closing. The brown eyes that blink at you, shining with something like shame or pleasure, are Yuuji’s.

“Baby…” He says, and you don’t have it in you to cringe away from him when he crowds you into a hug. He pulls you against him, kissing your temple, whispering apologies. He asks if you’re okay, and you don’t know.

But you can’t stop thinking…about when the next time you’ll play the “Tease Yuuji” game.

#yuuji itadori x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #Itadori x reader #Yuuji x reader #jjk x reader #jjk reader insert #jjk lemon #reader insert #suggestive themes #jjk smut #sukuna smut

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miekasa · 3 years

Note

Things the aot characters would match with u ?

Eren

Sneakers. It makes him somewhat giddy when you guys wear them at the same time, particularly if it was unplanned.

He just thinks they look nice, and it’s something that you guys can match with that doesn’t look completely obvious or cringe. You can wear them at the same time or on your own, but for Eren it’s really just knowing that you’re wearing something he bought you.

Not matching matching per se, but one of my favorite things to think about is Eren having his key necklace, and buying you one with a lock on it. Again, matching but not over the top.

Jean

Maybe simple jewelry? Like plain, gold or silver bracelets/rings—nothing too much, but you guys still know it’s there. Watches might be a bigger splurge, but he’s willing to do it, especially if they’re nice and classy.

Once he knows you’re okay with jewelry, you’ve gotta be careful with him. He’ll ice you out if you don’t stop him. He has a sorta refined taste where you’ll get something, and think “Hey, this is really nice,” and then boom, the price tag could pay for your courses for a semester.

Other little things like matching/coordinating phone cases, you guys each having mugs from the same place, even little charms on your keychains that match together.

Water bottles. This was more so him buying you one (and yes, it was an overpriced Hydroflask) to make sure you’re drinking enough water. If you don’t think he’ll force feed it to you if he notices that your bottle is heavy, then you thought wrong.

Levi

Lots of the things are pretty practical, and are the result of Levi buying it for you because he thought you needed it, or needed a better version of it; so, in a way, it’s not intended to match, but because he buys what he already has and knows works, you end up with a copy, so inadvertent matching 😌

For example, he’ll buy you mittens or gloves if you don’t have any, or if he thinks the ones you have are shit and need better insulation. They happen to be the same ones he has because he knows those work, so now you’re matching. Same goes for things like lunch boxes, water bottles, even the towels in your apartment.

Plants. Again, he probably intervened saying you need some source of fresh air in your house, or something smart like that. If you don’t have a green thumb, don’t worry because he’s practically taking care of it for you. Occasionally he’ll note how your plant is doing in comparison to his and it’s pretty cute to hear his little plant parent rambles while he’s watering them.

Matching aprons. It’s cute, don’t let him tell you otherwise; and if he does, you know he’s fronting, because he always wears his when he’s cooking, anyway.

Connie

Tattoos if you’re down for it. It can be as simple or stupid or extravagant as you want, you honestly have full control over the design even tho it’s going on his body please. He doesn’t care—he trusts you, and he wants to match with you, so whatever you want, wherever you want it!

Sneakers for him too, but I think he’d go as far as to have matching/coordinating outfits with you. Particularly sweats and crew necks and hoodies, and if you guys are traveling together, then you’re more than likely matching at the airport.

He probably put some stupid sticker or decal on your car that you’re stuck with now. Good luck. He put the same shit on his so at least you can look dumb together.

Armin

Stickers, whether it be on your laptop or phone case or water bottle or even just in your room; he’s got one and you’ve got one.

Stuffed animals. He has a lot that he just buys for you, but you guys go on a Build-a-Bear date and make bears of each other at some point, and it’s kinda cute. He keeps his on a shelf close to his bed so it’s safe and sound.

Stationary, like pencil cases and pens and such. They don’t have to be fancy with your initials engraved at the top, but you guys buy them in sets of 2 so you have the same stuff, and get cases to store everything that match, too.

Porco

Something cute that you put in his car that he doesn’t have the heart to remove, no matter how much he bitches about it. Like those little sticky rubber ducks with the glasses that go on your dash.

Gym bags. Yes, he’s a gym bro. No, he doesn’t care if you’re not. Allegedly they were “two for one” at the Adidas outlet, so now you’ve got one. It can double as a duffle bag if you’re not getting any practical gym use of it.

You could probably get him to wear matching rings as long as they’re not too obvious; just a simple gold band is really the furthest he’ll go (he never takes it off, but don’t point it out or he’ll chuck it at you).

Mikasa

Some kind of accessory—bracelets, hats, necklaces, scarves. She’s into that kinda stuff, just don’t make a big deal of it when you’re in public or she’ll get embarrassed please.

Pins. You’ve got one on your jacket and she’s got one on her book bag or something. Again, they don’t have to be identical; you can get two different Pokémon, or references to a show you both like.

Lipstick. You don’t have to both wear it at the same time, but it’s still something sweet to have.

Sasha

Charm bracelets! The charms themselves don’t all have to be identical (tho at least one of them would be), but just the fact that you guys both have them and are collecting charms at a similar rate is cute.

Definitely matching cups or mugs or something of the like. Kitchen towels with the same pattern or each other’s initials on them. Matching shot glasses, too, obviously.

Your home/lock screens match, too. Pictures of each other from the same day or of the same scenery or something. She always lets you know when she’s gonna change hers so you can change yours too.

Annie

Hoodies. They can be solid colored, or two if the same ones just in different colors. Hoodies are kind of her go-to look, and nothing that draw too much attention anyways; so she doesn’t mind having the same one as you.

Backpacks. Again, they don’t have to be exactly the same and can be relatively simple in design; and is something most people have anyway, so it’s not outlandish. She seems like a Kanken kinda girl, so you both can have one in different colors.

Pieck

Jewelry. Strikes me as the type to be okay with getting each other’s initials on necklaces or earrings or something, but it could also be more covert like having each other’s birthstones on a pendant.

Speaking of stones, you’re getting crystals whether you like it or not. They will be on your nightstand, they will be in your car, they will be in your jacket pocket, they might even be in your bra and don’t ask her how she got them there without you knowing. They’re in hers too if that makes you feel any better.

Hange

Jackets or sweaters. Wanna say matching cardigans in particular, and yeah, they’re pretty ugly but that’s the point! To bask ironically in the pointed ugliness of them all so much that it becomes cute to you.

Snow globes. Hange is obsessed with them, whenever you travel they collect one and sometimes even if they just pass a store at home and see two unique (translation: weird looking) ones, they’ll pick them up. So, congrats.

Socks with funky patterns on them. Beer bottles, weed plants, zodiac signs, dinosaurs—whatever Hange buys, they buy in packs of two so at least you’ll never run out of ankle socks.

#anonymous #aot x reader #eren x reader #levi x reader #levi fluff #jean x reader #porco galliard x reader #connie springer x reader #that's enough bye #nan*mi would have matching aprons n oven gloves too but i dont wanna think about that man alright #minicanons

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wish-i-wasnt-a-coward · 3 years

Text

Family Cuddle Pile

a/n: I actually wrote this a while ago but it was perfect for the request. Theirs like, no content for this ship an I love it so much! Thank you for reading :) @arodynamic-enby

Pairings: romantic Anxceitmus and kid!Patton also super background Logince

Warnings: tattoos, less than ideal parent mentions, food mention, and light cursing

Word count: 1,844

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Remus flopped out of bed, throwing his body carelessly across the room. He hastily threw on his clothes. Short shorts, ripped fishnets, a vest that was more patches than original material, really big clunky shoes, and a ripped up band-t. He also hooked his favorite bone earrings in his tattered earlobes.

He stomped into his apartment’s kitchen. He grabbed a stale piece of bread he soaked it in coffee. Yawned and grabbed his bag, racing out the door.

His brother was waiting for him at the tattoo shop, sketching a new idea. Unlike him, Roman only had a few tattoos, including not one, not two, not three… but three Disney quotes, a frog on a mushroom, a rose on his arm, and a constellation. Most of his tattoos were covered by tasteful burgundy overalls and a white button-down shirt.

Remus’ tattoos were also mostly covered by his clothes. But he had a tattoo sleeve depicting the garden of Eden, a matching frog on a mushroom, a quote from one of Roman’s books, medically accurate bone structures on his hand, a realistic spider on his neck, and a snake wrapping around his non-sleeved arm. And those were just the visible ones.

Suffice to say, the twins were very different.

Remus threw his bag onto the floor in the backroom, “Ro, when’s the first appointment!!” he yelled. “Your’s? At 11. FYI, Jan n’ Pat are coming over at 12, for motivation” Remus smiled, fuckin’ superb.

He busied himself in collecting the ink and preparing the tattoo gun. The client wanted a fucking orange on their wrist, it should only take an hour or two but Remus was not excited to do a frickin’ orange circle.

The prissy orange bitch came in and Remus got to work. They didn’t move much and only cried a little bit when the needle started jabbing at their skin. Remus liked this part of the process, stabbing people consensually was his favorite thing ever… also the art part but stabbing people!

Almost exactly an hour later the door jingled open. “Dada!!” a tiny voice called back into the store. “I’ll be there in a minute patty-cake” Remus called from his spot hunched over the client's arm.

He added the final touches to the fruit and helped the orange bitch off the chair. Roman swept the client away, Remus practically ran to greet his partner and son.

Janus wore a leather corset over a black collared shirt and baggy pants, their long platinum hair framed their face under their signature hat. They were holding hands with a toddler wearing mostly pink and blue, his blond hair (that matched Janus’) was a mop of curls barely held together by a few butterfly clips.

“Dada, Dada!!! I got you a flower” the little boy cried, letting go of Janus’ hand and stumbling towards the tall man who scooped him up. Patton giggled and held out a sweaty flower clenched in his chubby fist.

Remus accepted the flower with a gasp, ”this is really for me?” he said joyfully. Adjusting the small boy in his arms Remus turned towards Janus who was looking at the pair with a disgustingly sappy expression.

“What are you lookin’ at hot stuff?” Remus teased. “Shut it you,” Janus said, pressing a kiss to Remus’ check. Patton made a noise, “icky” he said pushing Janus away. They laughed, “yes darling, we’re very icky”.

“When’s verge-“

“he’ll be home at 4”

“Dope”

“Stop by the Sleepy Café before you bring Pat to the apartment?”

“Can do scootal-lo!”

Remus turned back to the little boy in his arms, “looks like you're stuck with me squirt”. Patton beamed and snuggled into Remus’ chest. Janus smiled again, “I’ll see you, boys, at dinner,” they said, ruffling Pat's hair and peaking Remus on the lips quickly so as to not upset the toddler. “Bye-bye Janny!!” Patton called after Janus as they left for work.

“Righty-o,” Remus said, carrying Patton into the back room. “I know Ro’s got a couple coloring books, wanna do those for a bit?” Patton nodded and reached towards the ground to be put down. Remus plopped Patton on the couch and pulled out the book and pens as well as a sketchbook off his own. They sat together coloring and drawing until Roman came back to hug Patton.

“Ah, my favorite nephew!” Roman said, scooping up the little boy. Patton laughed and pulled Roman’s hair. “Roro, can I color your arm pictures??” he asked, pointing to Roman’s rose tattoo. Roman plopped the toddler back down on the couch and handed him a pen.

Patton went to work on the rose, scribbling reds and pinks and greens across his arm. Roman gave him complements each time Patton paused, and each time Patton shushed him and went back to work. Remus finished up his sketch, adding it to the pile of tattoo ideas they were eventually going to put up-front, and sat next to the toddler.

“That’s really good pat-”

“Shhhhhhhh”

Remus nodded and mimed zipping his lips. He liked spending time with the kid. They weren’t biologically related but who gives a fuck about blood, unless it’s outside of your body, then it’s fun.

---------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’ wanna” Patton wined his dad sighed “I know bubbles but we gotta go home to Papa and Janny, isn’t that fun” Patton considered this, “but Roro’s pretty arm picture” he argued. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Pffffff- Ummm, how about this, we go home now and I’ll take you back to the shop tomorrow after pre-school”

Patton brightened considerably, “ok” he chirped. “up please” the toddler’s chubby hands reached towards Remus who obediently scooped him up with a coo. After all who was he to say no to uppy hands.

“See ya tomorrow, have fun on your date with the nerd” Remus sang as he snatched his bag juggling the still fussy Patton in his other arm. “Fu- Frick off Re. Say hi to your partners for me,” Romans said affectionately and waved as his twin left the building.

Remus happily trotted out into the road. The tattoo shop was located on a quaint little street in the more commercial segment of their town only a short walk from Janus’ job.

A light drizzle floated around them and the air was warm and comforting. Patton squealed as a large drop of water hit him in the head, prompting a laugh from Remus.

A jingle sounded through the peaceful cafe, the brown room was illuminated by those cool old fashion lights and a lovely array of pastries made the air smell of chocolate and blueberry scones. But the scones, as delicious as they were, weren’t the snack Remus was here for

“Hey babe- Remus why are you soaking wet”

“Puddle” Patton screeched.

“Kid’s right, Puddle.”

Janus pinched their eyebrows, “ya know what, I’m not even surprised anymore. Just make sure Patton doesn’t catch a cold” they scolded.

Remus nodded and saluted in mock seriousness, “yes captain” he said and pressed a kiss to Janus’ face over the cash register, “I’ll see ya in a bit” Remus grinned and led Patton back out of the cafe.

Janus sighed lovingly as they watched their boyfriend and son turn to cross the street, Patton’s hand clasped around Remus’ happily. “Stop looking so happy, you're scaring the customers” Remy teased from across the counter. “Ha, Ha,” Janus glared and went back to work”

Janus’ apartment was a cute two-bedroom space on the fourth floor of the building. The furniture was an interesting combo of vintage and things from the side of the road. The vintage parts came from their parent’s house, their father had died two years after Janus’ had run away and hadn’t thought to write them out of the will.

The three of them had made a date out of customizing the few pieces that Janus wanted to keep. The customization mainly included darkening everything and adding more gothic touches. Virgil had done the fabrics, Remus the painting, and Janus moral support/ director.

The three partners had also painted the kitchen/dining room/living room black with one yellow wall. Janus and Virgil’s room was dark purple instead of black with highlights in the same yellow. Patton’s room was the only one that didn’t look marginally like a cave.

The walls were a cream-yellow that lit up in the morning sunlight. After Janus announced that they were going to have a baby Remus had spent three hours painting the grey ceiling with white fluffy clouds. It was one of his favorite projects.

Patton of course had no regard for the work put into the entirety of his home and was the usual menace of a toddler. And today a toddler with cheerios, truly a sight even god would tremble before.

Remus plopped down next to Patton who was pushing cheerios around his highchair tray with an intense focus. He smiled at the little boy and flicked on the tv, “got any requests pip-squeak?” Remus asked. Patton looked thoughtful, “dead lady!!” he cried excitedly hitting the tray with his fists, cheerios flew everywhere. Remus nodded, understanding, “Corpse bride coming up!” he picked a few cheerios from the couch “you really are Verge’s kid”

When Janus got home Patton was curled up on Remus’s chest. Both slept soundly despite the dead folk on the screen in front of them singing about the wedding.

Janus smiled, their family was fucking adorable. They slipped off their shoes and snuggled up into Remus who hummed happily and pulled Janus into the hug still asleep.

----------------------------------------

Three hours later Virgil trudged up the four flights of stairs huffing indignantly with each step. Of course, he could take the elevator… but it might break down and he would be stuck for hours. Or someone could get into the elevator with him and he would have to interact with a stranger. So stairs it was.

He rummaged around his baggy hoodie, running his fingers through his dark purple hair in annoyance when he couldn’t find the key. Once he found it Virgil carefully (as he did everything) opened the apartment door. His combat books clunked satisfyingly against the hardwood floors as he entered his house. Virgil felt the tension leave his muscles, he was home. He glanced across the room, looking for his family.

Virgil’s face lit up like a god damned Christmas tree.

Across the room, both his partners and his son were curled up sleeping happily. Drool covered Remus’ face and Janus was snoring, they were the most precious thing Virgil had seen all freakin day.

The three of them woke as Virgil wrapped his arms around them, Patton squealed in excitement. “Hello, darling” Janus mumbled sleepily into Virgil’s arm. Remus just groaned and nestled into the hug. The toddler wriggled between his dads squealing profusely. “Shhh, s’ sleepy time” Remus mumbled, rolling deeper into the cuddle pile and shutting Patton up.

Virgil smiled and pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek. “Mmm, love you” they purred. “Love you too Jan,” Virgil said, nestling his face in their neck. Virgil knew he would have to start dinner soon but that could wait, for now, cuddles.

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

obi-wan kenobi relationship alphabet

as requested by the lovely @read-and-rec - i hope u enjoy!!

a - actions. what sort of things do they do to show they love their s.o?

for obi-wan, it would be in his every day actions. he's not all that big on grand gestures - can't be drawing attention to a relationship he's not supposed to be in after all - so it's reflected in the actions that show how well he knows you. like, he always flips the pillow before you come to bed so that it's cold, and when you have a particularly early start, he'll get up 20 minutes before you to make you breakfast

b - beginnings. how did the relationship begin? how has it changed?

i don't think obi would get into a relationship in the casual way -- he'd probably have to be in love with his best friend (that's u, ofc) and it would take a life threatening event for him to finally confess his love. not a lot would change, bc you're still best friends, but obviously there's the added closeness and love.

c - comfortable. how comfy are they with each other? peeing with the door open close, or would they rather keep the mystery?

he'd let you determine that. but also bc most of your time together is spent within your quarters, due to the natures of your job and the risk of people seeing, you're within close proximity a lot of the time so you're bound to be pretty comfortable around each other. you wanna burst into the refresher when he's in the shower cos you you had twice as much coffee as ur bladder can hold? he's not gonna stop you

d - dates. do they consider dates to be important? what kind do they prefer?

his favourite kind of dates are the ones where he gets to be close to you - whether that's wandering round the temple gardens after dark, or curling up in bed and watching a movie. if you ever get the chance to catch a break and escape to a far, far away planet, he'd definitely be up for something more grand.

e - engagement. how would they propose? who would even pop the question?

i don't think he would propose - more on that later - but if he did, it would be low key. even though there's like 0% chance of you rejecting him, he wouldn't want to put that pressure on you by making a big, public ordeal of the occasion

f - fundamental. for them, what is the most fundamental part of a relationship?

support & commitment. for obi-wan, he needs someone who's gonna be there for him through thick and thin; someone who will listen to him when he needs to vent and someone who will lay with him in bed when everything gets too much. he also needs someone who is committed and in it for the long run, bc he's lost so many people and can't face to see another go (especially by choice). of course, you get both things in return from him.

g - gratitude. how do they show their appreciation for you?

he just says it how it is. ten times a day really, but especially before bed - "have i ever told you how much i love and appreciate you?"

h - home. a random domestic headcanon.

he's terrible to share a bed with. you'll fall asleep on your respective sides of the bed, hands interlinked, and then get woken up two hours later by him spreading out on the whole mattress like patrick the goddamn star fish, forcing you onto the floor

i - infinite. do they believe their love is endless, or is there something that could break it?

obi-wan is both. if you turned to the dark side, or betrayed him or his cause, he could never forgive you, and the relationship would most certainly be over. it doesn't mean he'd stop loving you though - he couldn't ever do that. not even if he tried his hardest. so, his love is infinite but there are things that could make him turn away from you.

j - jokes. who's the funny one?

if you like dry humour, he's definitely the funny one, but with practical jokes and puns, that would be you.

k - kiss. how do they kiss? favourite type?

every morning before he goes to work, obi-wan will pull you towards him and give you a deep, breath-taking kiss; with one hand on your back and one on your neck, it'll be on your mind for the rest of the day. that's his favourite type of kiss.

l - longing. who's the clingy one? how are they with long distance?

neither of you, but also obi-wan sometimes. obi-wan becomes a thousand times clingier when he has nothing to do; if he's between missions and meetings, he'll stick to your side like a golden retriever. it's cute at first, but then when you can't even sit down for twenty minutes to do paperwork without him wrapping himself around you? that's when you drop the council a message and beg them to do something with him. anything.

m - marriage. do they wanna get married?

initially, obi-wan isn't all that bothered by marriage. he doesn't need a ceremony or a wedding to prove either person's commitment - and he just kind of assumes that all those vows and promises are a given, regardless of whether you have a legal document to hold you to your word.

but, if you're still together after order 66, when he's on tatooine? he'd never be opposed to it. if it's important to you, he'll respect that.

n - nicknames. what ones do they like?

he likes when you call him obi, and for you, it's either my darling or my love

o - over the top. are they ever ott? or are they more low-key?

maybe in battle, but obi-wan generally relies on subtle & low-key gestures rather than massive displays of affection.

p - picture. what's their favourite picture of them and their s.o?

there's a selfie you took on your second or third date (idk if selfies exist in the star wars universe but...we move). he has his arm around you, and you're pressing a kiss to his cheek. it's so simple, but it means everything to him.

q - quintessential. what is one they would refuse to compromise in their relationship? what's a deal-breaker for them?

again - the dark side. even if he breaks the code to be with you, obi-wan is going to a dedicated jedi til the day he dies and it's something he holds in a regard as high as his love for you. so, he could never, ever be with someone who ever went against what he believed in, or someone susceptible to slipping.

but if he did see the person he loved turning to the dark-side? he'd do everything in his fucking power to stop it. he'd lose sleep and risk his life to help you, but once you're gone, that's it. if he couldn't save you before, he knows there'd be no chance once you'd turned.

t - tattoo. would they ever get matching tattoos with their s.o, or a tattoo for them?

probably not a tattoo, but i don't think he'd be opposed to subtly engraving your initials on his lightsaber

u - understanding. how understanding are they? or are they a little difficult?

understanding KING. it doesn't matter what the issue is, he's gonna be there to listen and make you feel valid. even if you do something that irks him a little bit, he'd still have all the patience in the world.

v - vases. do they buy flowers?

all. the. time. sometimes for special occasions, sometimes just because

w - wandering. do they wanna travel? or immediately settle down?

before order 66, obi would love travelling with you, provided you both work in a similar field and he can make it look conspicuous. if it's after, he's not entirely enthusiastic about planet hopping when darth goddamn vader has it out for him, but he would absolutely love to settle down.

x - ex. how many exes do they have? any horror stories?

one word: satine.

y - you. favourite thing about their partner?

just...everything. he could never choose a favourite thing. he could say your eyes, and the way you sparkle when you laugh, but then he'd feel bad for forgetting your butt, and the little dimples in your hips, and the way your brow creases when your confused. see what i mean?

z - zeal. how excitable are they? who's the calm one?

he's definitely the calm one. he can be very enthusiastic in battle, but in other aspects of life, he has the chilled out aura of someone who has consumed a pound of the devil's lettuce

#obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan imagine #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi-wan x you #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi-wan reader insert #obi-wan kenobi reader insert #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #star wars x you #star wars reader insert

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oliviayamaoka · 3 years

Text

The Roseville Murders (Chapter 2)

Hi, just wanted to say I adjusted the plot slightly and will go into more detail with the story next chapter! This was a bit experimental and I wanted to write the growing relationship / rivalry between Y/N and Danny. I also wanted to write Y/N as a girlboss and to be just as witty as Danny!

Anyways, please comment any ideas or suggestions you may wanna see in future chapters! I have this planned out but would love any ideas or stuff I can add into the story! Tysm for reading!

It rained softly outside as you took a seat at your workplace. The desk was a bit cluttered with your art, notes, junk, and your papers regarding your current investigation.

One of the drawings on your desk was a sketch of Ghostface’s mask, attached to it was a few notes regarding the origin of the mask. Did Ghostface care for the history of it, anyways? You already theorized he was a narcissist who took pride in his work. Perhaps, he admired Edward Munch and his infamous “The Scream” artwork? Or maybe he based his persona off of it? You weren’t too sure but you did research the distribution and the company that made the masks. It wasn’t a particular popular company but it only distributed to the USA, Canada, and Brazil.

Ghostface didn’t seem too caring when it came to where he stabbed victims. As long as there was a lot of blood and something only he could perceive as art. And maybe you too. You felt excited, you already had a three year timeline. Maybe, you could get ahold of other states and ask if there’s been similar killings. Maybe even Brazil and Canada? You had to pinpoint a location and see if you could find just one name, any name.

Three years. Three countries. A part of you doubted he was Brazilian. Maybe Canadian? You weren’t so sure, you were pretty sure he was American. Y/N would probably have to go to the library tommorow to do research and use the slowly growing internet. Your research was suddenly halted when you knocked your sketchbook over.

Our slid a page. You kneeled down to pick it up, holding it as you examined the dark sketch. On the paper was a sketch of claws? No, they also looked like tentacles. Ever since the incident, you had dreams of these tentacle claws grabbing you and pulling you away from life as you know it. It must’ve been a sign of trauma or maybe it represented what happened through the nightmares? You slid it back into your sketchbook, deciding not to dwell on it. It would only make your room feel more depressing.

Beside your sketchbook was your leather journal. Y/N wrote everything in there, for mental health reasons. You included the incident and what Jonathan did for you. Your previous therapist said journaling your thoughts helped the healing process. It worked but journaling about how you killed your abuser was hell.

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted when your phone rang. It was a chunky, black mobile phone you got about a week ago? Y/N reached for it and answered.

“Hello?” You answered, using your other hand to organize your desk.

“Hello?” A voice answered, it was a male by the sound of it.

“Hi, who’s this?” Y/N asked, paying no mind to the phone call as she started to put some of her stuff away. Art supplies.

“Who’s this?” He replied.

“Y/N L/N, am I who you’re trying to reach?” You asked, sitting back down.

“Ah, you’re no fun, detective.” He chuckled as you stopped, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. Who was this?

“My apologies but, this is my personal phone. Can I ask who gave you this number?” You questioned him.

“Why does it matter, gorgeous? I know it’s you now.” He responded.

“Please don’t call me that. And yes, I am indeed a detective but I’d feel more comfortable discussing anything with you on my work phone.” Y/N said sternly.

“Oh, yeah… Detective L/N, huh? Think you’re some sort of hotshot because you’re new? Where did you come from? Washington? Gonna take more than the feds to catch me.” He said to you.

You listened intently and stopped for a moment. Catch him? Must be a stupid prank. Although, not a funny one since he had your personal phone number. An eyebrow raised as you looked at your notes on Ghostface.

“You still haven’t told me your name. Let’s not be rude, yeah?” You responded, being a little more cocky since you were off-duty.

“Awe, don’t tell me you forgot my name. I’ll give you a hint… I’ve been quite famous lately. In fact, I think you’ve taken quite the interest in me, Y/N.” The man teased. It was 100% Danny.

“I asked for a name, not an alias.” You said.

“Maybe after dinner, hotshot.” Danny said to you as you furrowed your eyebrows.

“I’m not in Roseville to play games. Either verify you are who you claim to be or quit wasting my time.” Y/N spoke with a stern tone.

“My last victim had three stab wounds to the throat. It was going to be two but their scream wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be. And they had a tattoo on their upper thigh. Bella Smith.” He said as you froze for a moment.

It was true. The latest murder victim was a middle-aged woman named Bella Smith who worked at a convenience store. She had multiple stab wounds but it was pretty much impossible to see she had three wounds on her throat just looking at photos of the crime scene.

“Okay and how did you get my number? I imagine the infamous Ghostface doesn’t have access to these types of things. How do I know this isn’t some sort of elaborate prank orchestrated by my coworkers?” You questioned.

“Honey, I am Roseville. Also sounds like you have experience with these kinds of things. You ever get humiliated like that?” Danny asked, grinning widely.

“No, it’s just a very logical conclusion. And why would you be talking to me anyways?” You asked him.

While you spoke to him, you quickly wrote down what he said and what he sounded like. You quickly speculated what his age may be, maybe 25?

“I keep tabs on the cops who are investigating my work and to be honest? They’re all stupid, it’s pathetic. Although, I noticed something about you. You come from one of the big cities, don’t you? You’re actually smart compared to those other pigs.” He said.

“Those pigs you speak of have tried their best in pursuing you. They have families too.” You responded.

“Really, huh? You’ve only been here three weeks? I think you should just trust me on this one because those other officers really don’t know what they’re doing. If you actually find out who I am, are they gonna give you credit? The newbie? A woman?” He asked.

“I don’t understand why gender is an issue. And why would they try to steal credit?” You questioned.

“They’re stuck in this shit hole city and I bet they could just really use a promotion right now. They want so badly to be the hero that arrests me… but first, they’ll let the freshly graduated detective do the work. It’s so easy to overshadow women in this world.” Danny said.

“Well, I don’t care. As long as you’re put behind bars.” Y/N responded.

“The bars at this station? I must say, your desk is quite cute. A bit plain but I like your style… interesting files too.” He mused.

“Huh?” You responded, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Your lil’ office at the station, I like it. This place has always been easy to break into. You noticed it too, didn’t you? Their security sucks and their morgue is just too damn small.” Danny said as you frantically looked around, shoving your shoes on.

“I’m going to call them right now and tell them you’re there. That was a stupid move on your part.” You said, practically yelling.

“So young and naive. I’ll be long gone.” He responded, chuckling as you hung up.

“Fuck, shit!” You said, quickly dialling the number to the police station.

You practically flung your door open, sprinting down the hallway and out through the front doors of the apartment complex after three flights of stairs. Your heart rate increased as you continued running down the sidewalk, feeling more frantic when there was no answer.

“Answer…!” You yelled, calling the emergency number.

“911, how can I help you?” A staticky voice answered as you continued running.

“I’m Detective Y/N L/N! Please inform the police station that there’s an intruder! He might be armed and dangerous! Do not touch anything since there may be forensic evidence!” You instructed.

“Oh—yes, right away, ma’am!” The dispatcher answered as you hung up, continuing to focus on your running towards the station.

Back at your apartment complex, there stood Danny with his own mobile phone. It couldn’t be traced back to him since it was stolen and he didn’t leave any DNA on it. If anything, it had the previous owners. Bella Smith. Your apartment complex had fire escape stairs outside your window. Easy enough, he thought. His outfit was black and had some stuff hanging off it. Strings? Ribbons? Danny was quite quick and extremely quiet when it came to climbing the set of stairs.

He reached your window, pulling it open gently and hoisting himself through, landing gently whilst kneeled down. For precaution, he had his knife gripped in one hand. This was purely for investigation and to see what you truly had on him. His head tilted curiously as he noticed your desk. Your art and notebook. His gloved hand reached out to your sketch of him.

Danny was truly impressed at how detailed and good it was. He read through your sticky notes and theories. Other than the fact he was blown away, he knew you were a threat since you successfully guessed his age range and height. Wait, his height? You did a careful examination of the footage he was in, looking at objects around him and his boots to correctly guess a height.

“What the fuck…?” Danny muttered as he looked at your notes.

The Scream by Edward Munch and a costume company? He skimmed over your notes and the psychological profile you built on him. He felt somewhat panicked since you were indeed no joke. His gaze averted towards your leather notebook. Eagerly, he grabbed it and opened it. Most of it was your thoughts and causes of your stress and anxiety. He stopped flipping through when he saw a darker page. It was dark because of the writing and how crumpled it seemed.

December 23rd, 1992

I was walking down an alleyway two weeks ago. It was cold so I had a jacket over my uniform. I suppose that’s why the man didn’t know I was an officer.

At first, I thought that he was going to try and rob me. It took me a while to realize that my money and belongings wasn’t what he was after. I suppose it would be appropriate to say that I was in shock for a moment. He never finished what he started. Despite being in shock, I was able to feel everything and the adrenaline only helped my rage.

Why? Why did this have to happen to me? After getting him off, I pulled my gun out and he stopped. I still remember the look on his face after I shot him. He was scared and pathetic, as he was in life. I don’t regret killing him. I never will. I just feel utterly violated. Never once have I been touched like that so violently. Is this what this fucked up world has come to? What if I didn’t have my gun and training?

He definitely did this to other women… he deserved to die. And I would do it all over again to him and to other men just like him. Of course, I had to call the police. They were going to charge me with manslaughter but they said that they would push this all under the rug, just as long as I never tell anybody. Did I contribute to corruption in the police force? This getting out would ruin everything. I don’t know but I do know that this was my gift.

Freedom was my gift for killing that man. It felt oddly exhilarating. I hope nobody remembers him, I hope his family know what kind of monster he was. Anyways, I’m being reassigned somewhere. They said they’ll give me my first investigation. In a smaller city.

Danny’s fingers trailed over the page. He felt angry and sad for you. That this happened to you. But, something arose in him when he kept re-reading that paragraph. You… enjoyed it? Behind the mask, he had a soft expression on his face. He imagined your beautiful face full of blood with you and your gun. He smiled gently as he kept the notebook.

He did indeed feel bad for you but he wasn’t satisfied with his limited knowledge of you. Danny decided to use this notebook of incriminating evidence to hold some leverage over you. Not only that but he figured he’d get to know you better if they had something interesting to talk to you about. Danny couldn’t help but grin when he thought about your journal entry and the sketches you made of him. So smart yet so naive.

Danny quickly took a look around your apartment to see all points of entry. He took a peak into your bedroom, it was neat and tidy. He seemed somewhat paranoid so quickly went back to your living room window, making his swift little escape. Not without taking some of your notes on him and your sketchbook.

About two hours later, you rubbed your eyes in frustration as another officer came to talk to you. There was a forensic team still investigating your little office space. Apparently, there was nobody here and your office seemed untouched. For about thirty minutes, you inspected any points of entry and tried to look for out of place shoe marks since it rained outside.

“Detective, are you certain it was the killer who called? We get prank calls a lot.” He said as you nodded.

“Yes, I’m certain. It was him, he knows I’m going to catch him soon.” You said as he nodded a bit.

“Okay, well, we’ll take it from here. Come early tommorow.” He said as you sighed.

“I will but please, don’t miss anything. I’m starting to think he was lying. It was him though.” You said as you turned, walking down the hallway towards the exit.

It seemed to be evening at this point and the rain stopped pouring. It was slightly humid but the city looked oddly beautiful when it was wet? You couldn’t stop thinking about your phone call with Ghostface earlier. Y/N already had some tech professionals try to track the number he called from and all of the information regarding the phone company. You’d have to wait two days at the latest for the results to come back.

As you walked through light puddles, you felt more and more tired. All the running and frantically searching for him was enough to just make you exhausted. It was all last-minute too. Y/N stopped dead in her tracks when she felt her mobile phone ring. You pulled it out of your pocket and answered it.

“Hello?” You asked, tired.

“Hey, gorgeous. Just wanted to apologize for my little deception trick earlier.” He responded as your eyes widened.

“Ghostface…” You responded, shocked that he had the courage to call you again.

“God, hearing that from you…” He said with a slight husk as you took a deep breath quietly to calm yourself.

“You know I’m close, don’t you?” You questioned him as he chuckled.

“Of course, I do… only these hands of mine can do wonders for you.” Danny said to you as you scoffed.

“You’re disgusting.” You say to him.

“Don’t lose your temper now, detective. There’s… things we should discuss.” He cooed.

“Things? Seriously?” You asked him, already tired of his bullshit.

“Yeah! Like, this lil’ notebook of yours! Really deep stuff… Victor Houston, was it? The serial rapist? Must’ve felt real good to put him down, didn’t it? Did it feel as good as you said it did in this thing?” He asked as you froze.

You probably let out a small whimper of shock as your hands trembled. Your heart pumped hard and fast. It was all you can hear as you felt your face heat out of pure embarrassment and shock. He… read your journal? This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good.

“W-What…?” You asked as he cackled.

“God, you’re so hot when you sound scared. Don’t be offended though, babe. You still sound real sexy in your cop tone.” He said as he continued.

“Yeah, I read all about the guy you killed. And how it was all covered up to accommodate you. Are you a star student or something? It’s hard covering up murders… or has it always been easy for you?” He asked.

“I-I, um… how did you get that…?” You asked him, trembling.

“You see, Y/N… we’re the same. You and I are too smart for Roseville. It’s just that I got the upper hand this time. While you rushed to the police station, I took a quick trip into your apartment.” He said as you let out a light gasp.

“Yeah, that’s right! I know where you live, I know where you’re from, and your number. I know who you truly are, Detective Y/N L/N.” Danny said mockingly.

“And what are you going to do with it?” You asked him.

“Always so straight to the point. I might give that annoying little journalist Jed Olsen. You’re trying to work with him, aren’t you? You mentioned in one of these notes… you also think he’s handsome.” He said as you covered your eyes.

You fought tears.

“Why? Why would you do this?” You ask.

“I should be asking you that. I’m a bit jealous you find someone like Olsen… attractive. He’s so boring, so normal, so… ugh, I hate talking about him. Still though, nice to know I have another fan besides him.” He said to you.

“Where are you going with this?!” You snapped as he chuckled darkly.

“I won’t tell anybody. Just as long as you halt your investigation for a while. I still want to have fun in Roseville here and well… get to know you.” He said.

“Go to hell.” You muttered.

“How original… so what’ll it be? I kinda need to know now since I’m also on a bit of a time crunch.” Danny asked you.

“W-What the fuck do you want me to do? Sit back and watch as you kill more innocent people?! I won’t let you.” You said with a venomous tone.

“What are you gonna do? Stop me behind bars?” He asked mockingly.

“Fuck you.” You said.

“I’m sure we will. But first, I just want you to sit back and not do anything stupid. We’ll see each other eventually. I’ll call you from another phone soon.” He said, hanging up.

You held your phone in disbelief and quickly made sure you had your gun. How the hell could you have been so dumb?! It was genius, leading you away from you apartment and finding such leverage against you purely out of luck. Your breath trembled as you walked back to your apartment, having your gun ready in your pocket as you did so.

#dbd x reader #ghostface x reader #the ghostface #ghostface dbd #danny johnson x reader #jed olsen x reader #jed olsen #danny johnson #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight

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lottiebagley · 3 years

Text

Voodoo doll - Draco Malfoy

I don't even like you Why'd you want to go and make me feel this way? I don't understand what's happened I keep saying things I never say

Draco Malfoy despised her. He despised everything she was. He despised mudbloods. He despised Gryffindor's. He despised Harry Potter and his stupid friends.

And yet, Draco Malfoy finds it hard to pull his eyes away, finds it hard to focus on anything other than the way she bites her bottom lip to keep from laughing at something Ron Weasley is muttering to her.

Draco despised Ron. He despises his family. He despises his loud laugh and the way when he glances at her from across the hall he sees Ron chewing with his mouth open. He despises, more than anything else, that Ron seems to always make her laugh. Since first year she had surrounded herself in Weasley's and she seemed to think they were the funniest people walking the earth and Draco despised it.

He also despised the pit of jealousy in his stomach at the way she leans closer to whisper something back to the ginger boy who is smirking wildly. Draco watches as the worst of their little group, Harry, laughs at whatever it is she whispered from his seat next to Ron, styling it into a cough when Professor Flitwick shoots him a disgruntled look. Draco watches as her best friend, a mudblood Draco had no weird and confusing feelings towards, rolls her eyes at her friends laughter.

He continues to watch despite Pansy pawing at him for attention, as she lets out a yawn, stretching a little in her chair and allowing her head to drop to Ron's shoulder. He watches as Harry reaches across and ruffles her hair to which she swiftly leans over Ron, Draco tries to not think about the view this gives Ron, to flick Harry's nose, the entire interaction going unnoticed by the charms professor.

Almost as if she can feel eyes on her, she leans forward a little in her seat, glancing over her shoulder and smirking when she sees the pair of grey eyes staring right back at her.

Their relationship could only be described as confusing.

In first year Draco mercilessly bullied her, although she never seemed to care all that much, content in her little trio that Hermione soon joined, and spending very little time thinking about the boy, although, that would change soon enough. She argued back of course, a strong minded young girl, but it never seemed to get under her skin.

In second year they ignored each other, dirty glares and muttered remarks but Draco backed off her for the most part, he did it because he hated the feeling in his stomach, the way it flipped in excitement when she walked into a room. Without his rude remarks to fight back against she lived blissfully without the boy.

Third year was the worst for everyone else around them. Puberty well and truly hit and she returned to school with boobs, something Draco greatly enjoyed. In turn she developed a weird crush on him, he was taller and his hair was longer and he walked with an undeniably attractive confidence. Neither of them wanted to admit to fancying the other, after all they hated everything about each other, so rather than confronting their own feelings they would fight. They would scream at each other, pick insults that were way too low and yet they both looked forward the the arguments just to be in such close proximity to the other.

In fourth year, at Fred Weasley's suggestion, rather than insulting Draco she would flirt with him constantly. It got under his skin more than any insult, although she didn't realise the reason it did was that it made his heart practically glow. He hated her and she hated him and yet they seemed to always be talking and flirting, yes it often ended in passionate rows but they were some how addicted to each other. Draco lived for the minutes she would bat her eyes lashes at him and smirk widely and for a second he almost let himself feel, almost let himself bask in the emotions, almost let himself ask her to the ball and let go of what everyone would think and say. Until he saw her kissing Dean Thomas in Hogsmeade.

And now, in fifth year, it was a weird combination of it all. They were hot and cold, on and off. One day they'd be flirting, the next ignoring each other, the next screaming at each other in the courtyard. Both feeling so much towards each other and not wanting to process what that meant. No one knew what to expect from them, they didn't even really know what to expect from each other.

But as her eyes fall on Draco she smirks, sending him a wink before turning back to the front of the classroom.

Draco despised how much he looked forward to the flirting days. He also despises the fluttering of his heart at the fact today seems to be just that.

I can feel you watching even when you're nowhere to be seen I can feel you touching even when you're far away from me

Draco can't help the smirk on his face when he sees her, she's standing in the corridor that leads to the Slytherin common room, a warm glow illuminating her distant figure from the candles lighting the dungeons.

"Lost, darling?" he drawls, his smirk widening when she turns at the sound of his voice

"You wish I was your darling," She taunts

"It's in my dreams every night," He speaks dramatically, glad she doesn't quite seem to pick up on the element of truth behind it.

"Well for that I can't say I'm surprised," She grins, the gap between them has closed and she stands now only a small distance from him. A distance so close he could extend his arm, wrap it around her waist and pull her flush against him. He forces himself to drop that thought. "What're you doing out so late Malfoy?" She questions, smirk ever present on her face.

"I could ask you the same thing," He comments, eyes scanning her, greedily taking in her body. He would tattoo the image to his mind if he could.

"I asked first,"

"Prefect's rounds," He shrugs, she smirks even wider

"Well of course the uptight self proclaimed Slytherin prince is on his prefect rounds,"

"I live to serve my house," He mocks, enjoying the small giggle that she treats him too, enjoying the fact it was him making her laugh and not a stupid Weasley. "So, why are you out so late and wondering so far from your tower? Anyone would think you were looking for someone," He smirks expectantly

"That would be my secret Slytherin boyfriend," She chimes, for a second his heart stings until he notices the mischievous glint in her eyes.

"And here I was thinking that I was your favourite Slytherin," He speaks slowly, a low tone that makes her knees weak

"Whatever gave you the impression you were my favourite anything?" She questions

"We both know you have a soft spot for me darling, no need to deny it,"

"Draco Malfoy, I utterly and truly hate you,"

"Same to you," His tone is sharper than before, his heart hurting in his chest, until she shoots him a small smile. "You still haven't told me why you're out of bed. I should punish you," His tone is low again and she can't convince herself he doesn't know what he's doing.

"Oh you'd like that wouldn't you Malfoy?" She chimes, he gulps a little, but remains cool.

She reaches up, pushing her weight onto her tippy toes, face so close he could feel her breath on his skin readjusting the silver and green prefects badge pinned to his front, straightening it before drawing away. "I should get going, Harry'll have a fit if I'm late," She comments, Draco wonders what she could possibly be doing that involved Harry so late and in the dungeons, he questioned why they wouldn't have walked together. He seethes at the idea of her leaving his company to go to Harry's.

She turns and walks away, leaving Draco staring after her. She turns back once she reaches the end of the corridor. "Dream of me Malfoy," She calls, her voice light, before she turns around the corner and disappears from his sight.

Draco had no doubt that he would do just that and he absolutely hates it.

Tell me where you're hiding your voodoo doll 'cause I can't control myself I don't wanna stay, I wanna run away but I'm trapped under your spell

Draco isn't sure why he can't wipe the thought of her out of his head, he just knows he doesn't like it.

He doesn't like that he finds his eyes scanning every room he enters in case she's there. He doesn't like that his breath catches in his throat when she smiles at him from across the room. He doesn't like that his friends seemed to have picked up on the entire situation.

"Who would of thought a mudblood would be the one to turn Malfoy soft," Blaise smirks widely as they sit in the library

"You don't know what you're talking about Zabini," Draco snaps, his eyes give him away though. They're trained on the girl three tables down.

She's resting her head in her hands, looking mildly exasperated as Fred and Ron argue in front of her. Each boy earning dirty looks from the librarian due to their loud volume, she smirks a little at something Fred says that seems to anger Ron even more and Draco's stomach flips at the sight, she yawns, stretching in her seat a little and it's then that Draco notices how tired she seems.

Sensing eyes on her she looks away from the boys, eyes quickly falling on Draco, she surprises him a little when instead of sending him a cold glare or dramatic wink she's seemingly a little more honest than usual, sending him a small smile.

His heart feels like it's being squeezed, he's struggling to find air in his lungs and he hates the feeling, he hates that it's her that caused it, he hates that he wants to feel it over and over again.

He vows in that moment to stop. Stop letting himself fall for her.

He doesn't return her smile, instead fixing her his usual cold glare, before turning to Blaise "Never let me go soft for her again," He mutters, Blaise chuckles under his breath

"You're already soft Malfoy," Theo comments

"Shut up. I don't and won't have feelings for a dirty fucking mudblood," Draco scoffs, turning back to his book with a new found bitterness in his chest.

And it hurts in my head and my heart and my chest And I'm having trouble catching my breath Won't you please stop loving me to death?

He doesn't so much as spare her a glance for the next week. No matter how badly his heart longs for him to turn his head at the sound of her voice, no matter how much he wants to kiss her when he sees her laughing in Hogsmeade, no matter how much he wants to tell her to shut up and stop asking for trouble when she talks back at Professor Umbridge.

As much as she denies Hermione's constant pestering about her crush on the Slytherin boy she had come around as of late to admit it to herself. That's why it infuriates her so much. How dare he choose to just suddenly act as if she doesn't even exist.

"Look, it's your boyfriend," George comments, shoving into her side a little as she walks between the twins on her way down to the Hufflepuff V Ravenclaw quidditch game.

"I'll meet you down there," She announces, storming away from the twins with a determined rage in her heart

Draco is leaning against a wall outside a class room that lays empty due to it being a Saturday. The minute he feels a hand wrap around his wrist he moves to tell whoever it is to fuck off, but his heart warms at the sight of her as she pulls him into the class room, slamming the door behind them.

He reminds himself of his resolve to ignore her and despite desperately wanting to kiss her, he attempts to move out of the room.

"Don't even think about it Malfoy," She spits out, arms crossing over her chest

"What the fuck do you want?"

"To know why you suddenly seem to have forgotten I exist!" She demands, voice growing louder with her anger.

"I need to go and meet Pansy," He states, tone as cold as ice

"We both know you fucking hate pugface,"

"I haven't forgotten you exist. You have forgotten your place," He informs, his voice dangerously haughty and she can just tell whatever he says next is going to piss her off

"Well why don't you do the honour of reminding me?" She demands

"You're a dirty mudblood who's associated with blood traitor's and wizarding embarrassments alike. So clearly your place is below mine," He reels off

"No, that is incorrect. You are a self centred, self loathing, pretentious arse with raging daddy issues and given we are both human beings we are on the same fucking level! Don't you ever think you are superior to me!"

"You don't deserve a second of my time!" He argues back, voice raising out of anger. The anger is clearly more at himself, because it's true, he was raised believing people like her didn't deserve a second thought and yet she was all he could think about.

"Then why are you so infatuated by me? Why do you care so much about trying to hurt me! If I'm nothing to you why do-"

His lips slam against hers. Cutting her off as his hands push her backwards against the wall behind her. He kisses hard and fast and groans when she returns it, her hands going to his hair that she'd want to run her finger through for as long as she could remember.

"What the fuck was that?" She demands, the second Draco pulls away, he groans loudly

"What the fuck do you think you idiot?"

"A kiss," She mumbles quietly and god does it make Draco's heart skip a beat

"Obviously," He snaps, suddenly feeling insecure because christ what if she had never wanted this and what if it hand't been everything she'd been dreaming of and what if he misread everything and she really did just hate him and now he-

"Do it again," Her demand silences the voices in his head and his lips are back on hers in a heart beat.

I don't even see my friends no more 'Cause I keep hanging out with you I don't know how you kept me up all night Or how I got this tattoo

Draco lives for the moments he makes her laugh. Eveything else melts away and it's just her, pressed against his chest in whatever broom cupboard he's tugged her into, giggling as he smiles widely, shushing her a little when her laugh rings louder, not wanting to ruin their secret rendezvous.

"You look really beautiful," He smiles gently, it's late at night and Draco had dropped a note on her Potions desk that morning asking her to meet him in the astronomy tower that night.

She'd shown up with a giddy grin and a bag full of snacks. He'd been waiting, wrapped in a blanket that he was quick to offer her half of. She'd accepted with a smile and her heart beat a little too fast when his scent wrapped around her shoulder.

"So do you Malfoy,"

"Think we are past the surnames thing now darling," He grins

"Took our time getting here," She comments, moving her head to rest it on Draco's shoulder

"Well, I blame that on your bad taste in friends," He teases, a playful smirk on his face as she rolls her eyes

"I'd put it on your blood and house supremacy," She shrugs making him laugh

"It probably was mostly that," He admits, she hadn't meant anything by it and truly didn't hold anything against Draco

"Hey, it's in the past," She smiles, he nods, glancing down at her as she grins back up. He can't help himself from pressing his lips down to hers.

I can feel you watching even when you're nowhere to be seen I can feel you touching even when you're far away from me

"So are you guys dating?" Hermione whispers, it was very unlike her to be talking during class but she was clearly much more interested in her friends sneaking around then whatever Professor Binns is clamouring on about at the front of the room.

"No, I've told you a million times 'Mione, it's casual," She speaks, ignoring the way Hermione rolls her eyes.

Casual.

It was a word that she couldn't get out of her head.

She'd questioned Draco on what they were actually doing one day when he'd snuck her into his prefect dorm. He had blanched for a second, stammering over his words, announcing something about secrets and casual flings and she'd figured it best not to push it any further. She'd rather have that than nothing.

Draco Malfoy was utterly addictive and the thought of loosing his presence didn't sit right so she would take what she could get.

Draco on the other hand was furious.

He hadn't expected her to question what they were, kind of assuming she would naturally know that he had liked her forever and as much as he wasn't ready for the backlash of publicly dating. He had been hers for years and he'd kind of hoped she felt the same.

That's why he had frozen. Been so surprised by the question that he'd lied. Trying to sound cool and act like he didn't spend his every waking moment thinking about her.

"That's so ridiculous. You clearly care for him," Hermione protests, both girls are now staring at the back of Draco's head a few rows in front of them

"I'm not denying that," She reminds

"So tell him that you don't want to be casual,"

"It was his choice Hermione, not mine, alright?" She snaps. Hermione sighs but drops the subject turning back to the chalk board at the front of the class, sensing her best friend doesn't want to continue with this conversation.

Tell me where you're hiding your voodoo doll 'cause I can't control myself

I don't wanna stay, I wanna run away but I'm trapped under your spell

She smiles when he enters the empty class room, it's late on a Friday night and most students were in their common rooms or dorms relaxing with their friends meaning the couple had enough freedom to meet up without it being the middle of the night.

"Hi there," She grins, pushing herself off the desk she had been perched on

"Fancy seeing you here," He smirks, she rolls her eyes as he arrives in front of her, his lips finding hers and kissing gently before he pulls away, chuckling when her lips chase after his.

"Good day?" He questions, hand reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear

"Alright, Umbridge is a right cow though,"

"Theo mentioned she gave you detention,"

"Yeah cause I was standing too close to Nev apparently," She shrugs, Draco smiles gently, he knew how much she hated the woman and based on how bias she was felt lucky he'd fallen on her good side "How was your day?" She asks

"Alright, Daphne and Theo broke up yet again so that's been all anyone's been talking about all day,"

"Those two are more off and on than a fucking tap," She comments he laughs a little

"They live for the drama," He shrugs, it's when he goes to grab her hand he notices it, the way she winces slightly "You okay?"

"Fine," She nods

"Why did you wince when I grabbed your hand then?" He demands, he doesn't mean to sound quite so harsh and almost angry but he hates that she isn't opening up to her, in honesty he truly just cares and wants to make sure she's okay, but isn't really sure how to go about it.

"I hurt it playing quidditch,"

"You haven't had practice in a week because Angelina's been in the hospital wing," Draco presses

"It's nothing. Just drop it," She snaps but Draco is fiercely protective over the people he cares about and he would be damned if he didn't find out what's going on.

He grabs for her wrist, pulling it closer and he's seen it before she can pull her arm away.

"Who did this?" He demands, the red scarring on her hand faded a little from the lotion George had given her but still a little inflamed

"It doesn't matter,"

"I swear if it was Potter-"

"Are you a fucking idiot?" She demands, snatching her hand away from Draco "Of course it wasn't one of my best friends!"

"Then who?" Draco is practically shouting and wondering how just seconds ago they'd been perfectly fine

"Umbridge," The girl mutters

"She's a teacher! She wouldn't-"

"Oh my god! Draco pull your head out of your arse long enough to realise the world around you isn't fucking perfect! Everything is falling apart and we are on opposite sides and so yes the people who treat you well probably don't do the same to me!" She's shouting now and despite his anger he's starting to realise he may have been wrong, his stubbornness refuses to let him admit that though.

"I'm not an idiot! I know that! but I don't believe that a ministry official and teacher is using illegal physical punishments!" Draco argues, sticking to his argument simply because he won't be the first to back down.

She doesn't even bother to respond instead turning on her heels and marching towards the door

"Wait!" He demands, she stops but doesn't turn around "At least let me help you fix it and we can talk about this,"

"It's none of your concern," She spits out, turning only to glare at him

"And why is that?"

"You aren't my boyfriend Malfoy," She sneers before leaving the room.

And it hurts in my head and my heart and my chest And I'm having trouble catching my breath Won't you please stop loving me to death?

Realistically Draco knew she was right. He had been the one who said casual and so yes, he wasn't her boyfriend even if he wishes he was.

So, with this in mind, as he sits in the great hall he wonders why he feels like he's going through a break up.

His chin rests in his hand and a large pout on his face, he sits amongst his friends but doesn't join in the conversation, if they try to include him the only response they receive is icy cold glares and so they leave him to his moping. When he's not glaring at his friends he's staring at her.

She seems fine, although she isn't and it's all one giant and stubborn act. Draco doesn't know this though and it makes him even more mad, had he really been falling for someone who cared so little for him?

She's sat next to Harry, chatting excitedly with Hermione from across the table, Ron is on her other side, talking despite his mouth full of chicken and Draco ignores the feeling of disgust at the sight, deciding looking at her is worth it. Ginny and Neville are on either side of Hermione, seemingly also excited by whatever the group are discussing.

He watches as she smirks, eyebrows wiggling at Ginny as she says something that makes the group laugh, Ginny rolls her eyes and flicks a forkful of peas at the girl before laughing along.

He'd tried a few times over the last week, since he'd so badly ruined what they had going on with his own stubborn ignorance, every time she would ignore him.

If he approached her she would turn and walk in the other direction. She always seemed to have one of her friends by her side, glowering at him when he attempted to talk to her. He would pass her notes and watch as she never even bothered to read them.

It hurt, he wasn't ready to admit it allowed but it did. He resented her stubbornness and his own alongside it for getting them in this position in the first place.

When he finally catches her eye from across the hall, he is pleasantly surprised when she doesn't immediately turn away. He smiles, a small smile that an onlooker wouldn't even notice. She still stares emotionless, almost like she's waiting and he feels that now is his chance, mouth an apology, motion with his head to follow him and get up and leave. All of these would be better plans than just staring right back but that's what he does.

She rolls her eyes, admittedly beginning to feel bad and like maybe she's over reacting but not prepared to back down, before turning back to her friends.

Every time you're near me suddenly my heart begins to race Every time I leave I don't know why my heart begins to break

Draco hated that for whatever stupid reason she was still friends with her ex-boyfriend. He'd always hated it, but now, staring at her from across the library he hated it.

She was a few tables away, feet tucked under her and a wide smile on her face. Dean was next to her, laughing at whatever she's saying as he flicks through the open text book in front of him.

"Just go and say something," Theo groans, thoroughly sick of his friend moping and complaining

"I'm not her boyfriend," Draco mutters, sighing a little

"Yeah no shit. You're not her boyfriend cause you've been stupid and tried to act like you hate her and then you've been stupid and unable to admit to your own emotions but just walk over there and tell her how you feel and hey presto, you're her fucking boyfriend and we can all stop having to listen to your complaining," Theo rambles

"Don't call me stupid or I'll end you Knott,"

"You have been stupid," Blaise mutters, not bothering to look up from his essay

"Oh you can fuck off and all," Draco snaps, eyes still glued to her and her fellow Gryffindor.

Draco watches as Dean leans across the table, hand cupping her cheek as his thumb swipes across her cheek bone. His entire body feels like it's on fire as she does nothing to stop him, smiling at whatever he says before he pulls his hand away, she leans forward and blows on his thumb and god if Draco doesn't hate the intimacy.

"Okay that's it, I'm going over there," Draco shoves his chair aside as he stands, marching across the hall.

"I need to speak to you," he demands

"Uh, why?" Dean questions, looking at the boy in confusion

"Not you fucking idiot. Why would I want to speak to you?" Draco snaps, arms crossing over his chest

"What do you want Draco?" She snaps, he feels a little relief at her calling him Draco, maybe he hadn't fucked this up as much as he'd thought.

"To talk to you,"

"You are talking to me,"

"Alone,"

"I'm busy," She sighs, turning back to her work

"Not too busy for me," Draco decides, he's expecting her to argue but she rolls her eyes, tells Dean she'll be right back, and marches out of the library knowing he'll follow.

Tell me where you're hiding your voodoo doll 'cause I can't control myself

I don't wanna stay, I wanna run away but I'm trapped under your spell

"So you're dating him again?" Draco interrogates the second they're in an empty, relatively small broom cupboard.

"No I'm not," She returns, pulling the string to turn the light on, a yellowish glow entering the room and wavering a little.

"So, why are you with him?"

"We are friends and we are studying together. I don't assume you're dating Blaise and Theo because you were studying with them do I?"

"Well, they weren't stroking my face,"

"I had an eyelash on my cheek so he got rid of it for me because I kept not getting it," She explains, letting out an exasperated sigh.

Draco feels like an idiot.

"Even if I were dating him it would have nothing to do with you," She adds

"We both know that's not true," He snaps

"You were the one who said you wanted casual and then tried to act like you owned me!"

"I was concerned about you!"

"You accused me of lying when I was honest with you!"

"Well you had just lied to my face and blamed it on quidditch!"

"It's none of you business what happens to me and wethe-"

Once again, Draco cuts her off by slamming his lips against her own. Pushing her against the wall behind her as he kisses her. Hard and fast and god his hands are every where and she can feel her anger melting away as she pulls him impossibly closer by his shirt.

"You should stop kissing me when I'm trying to argue with you," She lets out as he pulls away, breathless as he keeps her caged between his body and the wall

"It's the best way to get you to shut up," He smirks, looking her up and down, eyes full of lust and longing and crap maybe even a little love but she's no where near ready to think about that yet. "For the record it is my business what happens to you,"

"And why is that?"

"I'm your boyfriend now," He announces, pressing one last hot kiss to her lips before pulling away and exiting the cupboard leaving her breathless and flushed, heart melting in her chest.

And it hurts in my head and my heart and my chest And I'm having trouble catching my breath Won't you please stop loving me to death?

MASTERLIST

#Draco Malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #Draco #draco fanfiction #draco fluff #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter masterlist #Harry Potter

112 notes · View notes

moldisgoodforyou · 4 years

Text

no tattoos

wordcount: 1.7k

warnings: drunk sophie, hints of nsfw talk, etc

______

Rafe picked up Sophie’s facetime call to be greeted by his excited girlfriend and her talking conversationally in Spanish, albeit a little stilted as her drunk brain tried translating back and forth.

“Sophie -”

“Estoy bebiendo, hemos encontrado este vino por la sangria -”

He laughed, shaking his head. “English, baby, please. Por favor.”

“Oh! Fuck, sorry. I’m not sober.” She immediately switched back, bringing a nearly empty cup to her lips as she took him back into her room to momentarily escape the loud party.

“I can tell. What’s up, just saying hi?”

“Yeah!” She shut the door behind her and lifted up her shirt a little. ”Baby! Baby, look.” She angled the camera toward her leg, keeping it on selfie mode and hopped on one foot trying to show it correctly.

Rafe held back a smile. “Flip the camera, Soph.”

“No, no, I got it, look.” The camera finally focused in on the purple pen outlining the eventual tattoo, the initials R.C. done in her terrible drunken scrawl. (Her handwriting was pretty poor normally, but her drunk handwriting was much worse.) It was right above her hipbone and at least five inches tall, not at all what she would typically go for with a first tattoo.

He choked back a laugh, eyes wide in disbelief. “Oh my fucking god.”

She grinned and turned the camera back to her face. “What do you think?”

“That’s not - Sophie, you didn’t -” he fumbled with his words, feeling a weird mix of horror and also being turned on that she’d even consider tattooing his initials onto her forever, even if she was drunk.

“No, no, I’m next.” She nearly tripped as she walked back into the kitchen, showing a group of her friends crowded around a table, one of them giving stick and poke tattoos with a practiced ease. The phone was set down and abandoned for a few minutes, but he could hear Sophie accepting another shot with a giggle, her words taking on a pronounced slur.

Rafe waited patiently, straining a little to listen to the conversation.

“Were you talking to your boyfriend?”

“Wait, the one that gave you the ring?”

Sophie laughed and he could picture her grin. “Yeah, I was talking to Rafe. I’m gonna get his initials.” She pulled up her shirt a little to show off the sloppy outline and the girls squealed, both equally as drunk as her. “Oh my god, you can’t.”

“Why not!” Sophie exclaimed.

“What if you break up?”

“Oh, we won’t.” She replied, self-assured. He grinned at that.

“So do you think you’ll marry him?”

There was a brief silence and more giggles and Rafe desperately wished he could see her face. Unbeknownst to him, she nodded with a grin then picked the phone back up, her face tinged pink.

“Hi! I forgot we were talking!” She took the phone back to her room to talk to him again. Sophie had a tendency of being spacey when she was drunk, often wandering off or just ending a conversation mid-sentence when she couldn’t remember the rest.

Rafe shook his head, trying his best not to laugh. “Sophie. Angel. Listen to me, very carefully, okay?”

She furrowed her brow. “Yes?”

“You cannot get that tattoo.”

She pouted, running her thumb over the ink and smearing it a little. “Why not?”

“Because, Soph. You’re hammered -”

“Am not! I can do a handstand, look, watch -”

“No no no, Soph, just listen to me, please -” he laughed, snapping to try and get her focus as she went to set the phone down and show off (he was a little concerned, especially because he wasn’t sure she could do a handstand sober). “Sophie Flint! Hey. Hey. Pay attention and listen. No tattoos.”

“You don’t like it.” She frowned, lip wobbling, and Rafe could feel the tears coming on. He paused, part endeared and part exasperated. “It’s - it’s not that, I just -”

“No, you hate it and you’re going to break up with me because you think I’m a bad artist and I could never open my own tattoo shop.” She sighed dramatically, a few stray tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Jesus, what did you drink?” He muttered to himself, shaking his head. “I’m not breaking up with you, baby.” He couldn’t help but laugh, utterly confused. “Has this been some long standing dream I’ve never heard of?”

“You’re laughing at me!” She cried out, rubbing the heels of her hands hard against her eyes. “I’m a great artist.”

“Oh my god.” Rafe muttered, grinning. “Yes, you are. Hey, how about you wait, and - um -”

He grabbed a piece of paper from his desk and held it up. “Look, I’ll draw you the tattoo, but you have to wait until you get it in the mail. So you can copy it right.” He pretended to write his initials onto the paper, knowing he had zero intention of sending it to her.

“Oh. You mean it?” She sniffled, her tears long forgotten.

“I mean it. Nothing to cry over, baby.”

She nodded, swiping the back of her hand over her eyes to get rid of her tears. “You promise to send it? So I can have you with me forever?”

He swore he melted at that statement alone. “That’s why you wanted it?”

“Yeah. And ‘cause I miss you.” She paused. “I miss your dick too, but I’m not gonna get that tattooed on me.”

He laughed loudly at that, shaking his head. “I think that’s a solid plan. No tattoos tonight, okay?”

“I’ll wait until you come out and we can both get each other’s. Oh!” Her face lit up and it was almost painful for him that she was so far away when she was in one of his favorite moods. “Yeah, Soph?”

“You could get my signature, on your letters! The S and the halo!”

He paused, thinking. “That’s not too bad.”

“No, it’d be perfect. I want it over your heart. So everyone knows you’re mine.” She declared, tracing her idea over her own heart to demonstrate.

“Okay. I’ll think about it. Go back to your party, angel, go have fun.” He urged, feeling better now that he’d talked her down from the tattoo ledge.

“No, I miss you, I wanna talk.” She flopped down onto her bed and propped her phone up, then wrapped her arms around her pillow. “Last night one of my roommates brought some guy home from the bar and it’s not fair. You should be here so I don’t have to get off on my own.”

Rafe grinned, shaking his head. “You’re trouble.”

“Am not.” She protested, then grinned. “Unless you want me to be. Then I can be trouble.”

“Keep your voice down, Soph.” He admonished, knowing she had a tendency of being loud when she was drunk. “Go drink some water for me.”

“No. You know what’s bullshit?” She fished around in her nightstand drawer, looking for something.

“What?”

“Ah!” She held up a small drawstring bag. “My vibrator died last week -”

“Jesus Christ, woman -”

“- and I can’t find a replacement anywhere online. The thing won’t charge here, I think I electrocuted it. Useless.” She tossed the bag across the bed, scowling.

He was clearly strained, rubbing his temples. “Can we go back? Since when have you had a vibrator?”

“Since, like, sophomore year.”

“And I didn’t know about this, why?”

She shrugged. “You never asked and I think I can probably count on my fingers how many times we had sex in my room last semester. What was I supposed to do, reach over and whip it out when we were fucking?”

He laughed at her brash words and dropped his head in his hands, shifting in his seat. “You’re going to be the death of me, I swear.”

Sophie waved her hand, ignoring his struggle. “Rafe, listen to me. That picture you posted with Colin, in the swim shorts, you’re holding the beer?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve literally never wanted to get down on my knees more.”

He about choked, eyes going wide. “You can’t just say things like that without a warning, angel.”

“I’m serious -”

“I’m sure you are.” He laughed, trying his best to ignore her tank top slipping off her shoulder and the way she licked her lips.

“And when you come visit and we travel, I want to have sex in every country. Just so we can say we did.” She declared.

“We’re only going to be in three, Soph. Including Spain.” He countered, attempting to switch the conversation for his own sake.

She yawned, stretching, and her shirt slipped a little lower. “Okay, so we’ll just have to travel more together later. Fuck, I miss you.”

“You too, baby.” He heard her name being yelled out in the background and laughed, raising his eyebrows. “Do you need to go?”

“Prob’ly. More shots, you know how it goes.” She dragged herself up out of bed and glanced down at her shirt, sighing dramatically. “I gotta change, don’t I?”

“No, you look great. Go have fun, I love you.”

“No, no, I gotta change.” She insisted, pulling off her shirt with no hesitation and Rafe sucked in a breath, watching her hunt around through her laundry basket of clean clothes waiting to be folded. “You’re teasing.”

“I’m not teasing, I have a bra.” She snapped the strap for emphasis.

“You are teasing. I can see your underwear when you bend over, your skirt is short.” He laughed when she turned a little red and tugged it down. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not. They’re pink with little red hearts on them.” He grinned. “Adorable.”

“I’m not going to waste my good underwear when you’re not here.” She defended, then found the shirt she wanted. It was one of his from intramurals, with Cameron written out on the back. He held back a smirk when she tugged it on and it went to her thighs, her skirt barely peeking out under the hem. “Is this better?”

“Yeah, you look beautiful.” He smiled. “Go back to your party.” Rafe paused, adding, “Tell Mateo I said hi.”

“That’s weird, but alright.” She shrugged. “You be good, okay?”

“I don’t think you’re the one that should be telling me that.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Have fun. If you go out, text me when you’re home again.”

“Deal.” She blew him a kiss before waving and hanging up.

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks fanfic #obx #obx fanfic #rafe x sophie #mine #college rafe #frat rafe

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wonder-womans-ex · 4 years

Text

‘Cause Boy I was Made for You

By wonder-womans-ex for @inloveoknutzy Sweater Weather secret santa exchange 2020

When Remus Lupin was eleven years old, he learned about soulmates.

“Almost everyone gets a soulmark on their nineteenth birthday,” Mr. Holliday, his fifth-grade teacher, had explained. “A design, like a tattoo, on their left wrist. And out there, somewhere, someone will have a matching one.

“Some people don’t get them until later—no one knows why. Some don’t get them at all. It’s rare, but some people have more than one soulmate, or their soulmate changes.

“Can anyone tell me why this might be?”

Trust a teacher to turn this into a lesson, Remus thought, and put up his hand.

“Because people change, and the person who your soul matches could change, too?”

“Very good, Mr. Lupin.”

***

When Sirius Black was eleven years old, his parents kept him home from school. Instead, they sat him down at the dining room table—which was only ever used for special occasions; he couldn’t fathom why this might be considered one—and told him three things.

“One,” Walburga said, bony fingers and long nails that reminded Sirius of talons drumming on the centuries-old wood, “your career comes first. Always. No matter who your soulmate turns out to be or how you feel about it, you are expected to make the choice that benefits yourself and your role in this family.”

“Two,” Orion put in, “you are the only person who can prove who your soulmate is. If the reality is something that puts your future or your reputation at risk, lying is the best option. Remember, listen to your head, not your wrist.”

“Three—” this was Walburga again, “—your soulmark, when you get it, will remain covered at all times. No one else is permitted to see it. Are we clear?”

Sirius nodded.

“Speak up!”

“Yes, Mother. Yes, Father.”

***

When Remus Lupin was thirteen years old, he had his first kiss. It was with a girl from his first aid course to whom he’d never really talked before, and it was wet and clumsy and didn’t taste very nice. In six years when he got his soulmark, he probably wouldn’t even remember her name.

***

When Sirius Black was thirteen years old, he fell asleep in math class twice. He’d spent the entire night practicing—under his father’s instructions, of course—and the words in the textbook began to swim in front of his eyes.

His mother slapped him across the cheek when she found out. Though he told no one for a very long time, that was when he started drinking coffee.

***

When Remus Lupin was fifteen years old, he googled what if your soulmate doesn’t love you.

***

When Sirius Black was fifteen years old, he found out what it was like to be famous. He enjoyed it, at first. There was so much to enjoy: the attention from his parents, the people who recognized him in public and smiled, and the hockey.

The hockey was everything.

He wouldn’t have thought so, but it was freeing, really, to be on the ice, doing what he loved, and know that the whole world was watching. It showed him he was enough—better than enough. He was the best. He’d been working towards being best his whole life, and now he finally got to feel good about it. What wasn’t to like about that?

Amycus Carrow, apparently. The first guy on his team to notice he was different. “Queer,” he whispered, as Sirius packed his gear up.

Sirius wasn’t sure who he was trying to prove something to by sleeping with Janie Clearwater—Amycus or himself.

***

When Remus Lupin was seventeen years old, he and his mom picked his little brother Julian up from daycare. Jules had a crude drawing of a star on his wrist in green washable marker.

“My teacher has one! So I wanted one too!”

Remus smiled, ruffling Julian’s hair.

That night, he locked his bedroom door and looked up Sirius Black. Video after video of slapshots, passes, interviews, until he finally drifted off to sleep thinking that’s the sort of person I want to be loved by.

***

When Sirius Black was seventeen years old, he had his first panic attack. He wasn’t sure what triggered it; he wasn’t sure how he pulled himself out, but he ran a thumb over the red marks where his fingernails had dug into his skin and tried not to cry.

***

When Remus Lupin was nineteen years old, everything went wrong. He woke up on his birthday to his wrist itching, and it took all his willpower not to look at it. He wasn’t quite ready yet.

It was like Schrödinger’s cat, he reasoned—if he didn’t look, he couldn’t confirm what had been nagging at the back of his head for a while now. He couldn’t deny it, either, but it was better than nothing.

Julian ran to hug him when he got downstairs, grinning to show off his gap-toothed smile. “I got you a present! Wanna know what it is?”

“I think,” Remus told him, “I’m about to find out anyway.”

Two weeks later, Fenrir Greyback approached him in the locker room.

***

When Sirius Black was nineteen years old, he found himself signed to an NHL team he wasn’t supposed to be on and with a soulmark he could make neither head nor tail of: a silver wolf and black dog, intertwined like yin and yang, two crossed hockey sticks behind them. He remembered, distantly, being told that soulmarks were meant to make sense.

The black dog was probably meant to represent him—black dog, dog black (he still hadn’t forgiven his parents for that one)—and the hockey sticks almost definitely had something to do with, well, hockey, but the wolf he had no idea about.

***

It is now that these two stories meet. There is a split second, a fraction of time, and it seems as though the whole world is holding its breath. Will their paths cross, only to continue on their separate ways? Will they travel together for a time, before they are destined to part once more?

“Hello,” says Remus, and when Sirius holds his hand out coldly, their fate is decided.

***

“Pots, c’mere a second!”

Sirius is happy, almost. He’s got the team—he’s one of them, now, really and truly, but there’s something still off. He knows what it is, but he doesn’t want to.

“I’m coming, Captain! Keep your head on!”

James comes to a stop in front of him. “Hi. What do you need?”

“Please poke Dumo.” A few of the guys chuckle, and this makes Sirius smile. He likes making other people laugh.

“What, and you needed me for that? You couldn't do it yourself?”

Finn walks into the room, then, jersey half on. “Why do it at all? What did poor old Dumo do to you, anyway?”

“Yeah,” Pascal says from where he’s sitting by his locker. “Respect your elders!”

“Elder, you say? Edging on retirement, are you?”

“Tais-toi!”

Glancing over to Remus, Sirius allows the barest flicker of a smile to pass over his face. He gets one in return.

“Alright, everyone get moving,” Coach tells them, opening the door and surveying where they’re all arranged, faces like guilty puppies. “You’re paid to play hockey, not sit on your asses and gossip. Practice starts in five minutes, or you run laps around the outside of the rink. In skates.”

Most of them groan, and Kasey downs a Powerade. “Well, boys, that’s my cue.”

James is the next to go, then Finn, then Logan. Leo and Talker continue their argument—something about George Harrison; Sirius isn’t really listening—out onto the ice, and Adam follows them with Olli and Nado close behind. Dumo winks at Sirius before he goes, too, and then it’s just the two of them.

“What did he do?” Remus asks, after Sirius has laced and relaced his left skate three times. “Dumo, I mean.”

“Nothing much. Just… well, if you must know, he put shaving cream in the fridge, once. Guess what I had on my waffles that morning.”

“Waffles aren’t on your diet plan.”

“It was last year.”

“And you waited until now to get James to poke him?”

He knows Remus can see right through him. He always can. “Never question the methods of a hockey player, Loops.”

He meant it as a joke, but Remus stiffens for some reason, jaw clenching and eyes darting away. There’s an awkward pause before Sirius says, “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be.”

“Right.” He clears his throat, trying in vain to find something else to say. He would be lying if he said Remus didn’t mean something to him—he knows it. But, after all, knowing something and acknowledging it are two very different things.

Sirius runs the laps.

***

That night, after practice, Remus is about to head for the bus station when Sirius steps in front of him. He’s walking backwards, even with his hockey bag slung over his shoulder, and Remus isn’t ashamed to say he’s a little impressed. (From a purely objective point of view, of course. It has nothing to do with Sirius and everything to do with the skill it would take, hypothetically, to do such a thing.) (He’s not fooling anyone, least of all himself.)

“Want a lift?”

“You don’t even know where I live.”

“Well, we’ll just have to fix that.”

Remus rolls his eyes; he pretends to think about it. “All right,” he says, finally. “On one condition.”

“Which is?”

“I get to choose the music.”

Sirius lets out one loud ‘ha!’ It’s the most beautiful thing Remus has heard in a long time. (That would go well: “Oh, I’ve changed my mind. No need to put on the radio, I’ll be content if you just keep laughing.”) (There’s a reason people like him are off to the side, out of sight, instead of right in the spotlight with a microphone.)

Remus is glad that Sirius waits until he’s parked outside Remus’s apartment building to bring up their earlier conversation. It says something that they say “So, about this evening—” in unison, but Remus isn’t going to think about that.

“You go first,” Sirius tells him, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “Please.”

“I suppose,” Remus says, slowly, “That I haven’t quite been honest with you. Any of you. I wasn’t always a PT.”

“Of course not. You’re my age. You can’t have always worked for the Lions—before that you were a teenager. A student.”

Remus shakes his head. “No. Before that I was a player.”

“You played? Why’d you stop?”

“Bad hit,” he says, shrugging. “I’m over it. But I… I know what it’s like. The pressure. The rules. So, if you need someone to talk to… just remember—I know what the game does to a guy. You’re not the only one who’s been told to be something you aren’t by someone who forgets you’re a person off the ice, too.

“See you tomorrow, Cap. Thanks for the ride.”

***

Sirius is probably the one person in history who has managed to burn eggs without even turning the stove on.

“How on earth did that happen?” James asks when Sirius phones him.

“I dropped them into the toaster—hey! Stop laughing! It could happen to anyone!”

“Yes,” he hears from the other end of the line, “But it didn’t. It happened to you.”

It takes exactly two minutes and thirty-seven seconds after hanging up on James for Sirius to decide to call Remus. Cooking failures might not have been quite what Remus meant when he said Sirius could talk to him, but it’s the problem at hand right now.

(Remus laughs just as hard as James, but at least he has the decency to apologize for it afterwards.)

“Well,” he says, once he’s calmed down, “What are you going to eat now?”

“I’m not sure. Cereal?”

“Practice is in two and a half hours. You need more than that.”

“I’ll be—”

“If you end that sentence with ‘fine,’ I’ll take the laces out of your skates and strangle you with them. Do you want me to walk you through, I dunno, a pancake?”

“Sure. What do I need?”

“Flour, butter, eggs, milk…”

Twenty minutes later Sirius is left with milk on his shirt, flour in his hair, butter practically everywhere else, and a microwave that won’t start.

“I think,” he tells Remus, “I should have cereal.”

“You are going to eat a pancake if it’s the last thing I do—”

“Why don’t you just come over here and make it for me, then? I’m sure you’ll have more success.”

He holds his breath for a moment, hoping this wasn’t a step too far, before Remus responds. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll be over in… half an hour?”

“Sounds good.”

Click.

The instant the call is over, Sirius opens the freezer and grabs one of the popsicles he secretly has stashed there. They’re not part of his diet plan, but he needs one. Then he takes a sponge and starts trying to get the butter out of the sole of his shoe.

***

The first thought that crosses Remus’s mind is that Sirius’s tongue is purple from one of the popsicles he thinks no one knows about. If Remus kissed him, he’d probably taste like grapes. (The thought is banished from his mind the moment it enters.)

“So,” he says, surveying the damage. “I am going to teach you how to make a pancake.”

Sirius, it turns out, is infinitely better at following instructions when they’re simple, and the two of them work out a system quickly. Remus makes the pancake, Sirius gets the ingredients. It works.

“That’s salt, not sugar. Try again.”

(Most of the time, at least.)

“Really?” Sirius is squinting at the package. “Why doesn’t it say so?”

“It does. Right there.”

“How am I supposed to read that?”

“You need glasses, Cap.”

“I have glasses. I just never wear them.”

“What?” This is news to Remus. Visions of Sirius with glasses and bed hair are swimming in front of his eyes. “Why?”

A shrug. “I look stupid.”

“I’m pretty sure you’d be drop-dead gorgeous in anything.”

There’s a beat of silence. Remus realizes that, yes, he said that out loud. “I mean, all those fangirls certainly seem to think so.”

“Right. Yeah.” Sirius clears his throat.

“Anyway, pancakes! I think these are almost ready to cook—can you turn on the element?”

“The what now?”

“The element? The coil on the stove?”

“Should’ve just said that in the first place,” Sirius grumbles. “Fucking Americans.”

“Fucking French.”

Suddenly, Remus has a spatula pointed at his nose. He has to cross his eyes to see it properly. “Say that again; I dare you.”

“Fucking French?”

“Awright, that’s it! En garde, bitch!”

And so begins the great whisk-vs-spatula duel of 2020. There is very little batter left once they’re done—in the bowl, at least. Most of it is on their clothes.

They look at each other. “Cereal?”

“...Cereal.”

***

Kasey’s eyes go wide—almost comically so—when they show up to practice together.

“Cap giving rides?” He says, and Sirius isn’t sure what accent he’s trying to fake but he ends up sounding like a scandalized duchess from the movie adaptation of an Austen knockoff. (Maybe that is what he was going for. It’s hard to know, with Kasey.) “I thought the day would never come.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Remus’s elbow digs into Sirius’s rib cage. “You don’t want to say that. He tried to make me shut up this morning—it’s something I’ll never recover from.”

Sirius almost laughs at the expression Remus makes when he realizes exactly how that sounds.

“He dumped pancake batter down my shirt!”

“You didn’t!” The look on James’s face is aghast. “First the eggs, now this—what will people think?”

Finn looks up from his phone. “Eggs?”

“Sirius here dropped the eggs he was going to eat for breakfast into his—”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

Dumo slings an arm around his shoulders. “The price you must pay for telling James to poke me yesterday. Learn from this, mon fils. Learn.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, old man.”

“Treachery!”

Shrugging him off, Sirius grins. “I am the kitchen monster. Cross me and I will slaughter you in a food war.”

“Try me.” This is Logan speaking; Sirius hadn’t even realized he was there.

“You’ve been warned!”

***

“Look, there are twenty-two hockey players in this arena, and I ain’t one of them,” Moody says, and Remus can’t be sure, but he thinks Sirius looks at him.

***

“You’re favouring your right leg,” Remus comments as soon as Sirius is off the ice. “Want me to take a look?”

“It’s fine, really—”

“I’ll try again. Want me to take a look?”

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Loops.”

“That’s what I thought you said.”

They walk into the PT room in businesslike silence, Sirius hoping all the way that one of them will break it. Neither does, and it isn’t until Remus has taken off both his skates for him, now expertly examining his left ankle, that he realizes what he should say.

“You mentioned you played, last night.”

The finger tracing his Achilles tendon stills. “I did.”

“Were you any good?” He knows, somewhere, that he’s entering forbidden territory. He can’t bring himself to care.

“I’d like to believe so.”

“Be honest.” Sirens are blaring in his head. He keeps going.

“There were rumours…” Remus bites his lip, glances away. “People said I was set for first.”

“What? How come you never said anything? C’mon, you need to play with us sometime, just scrimmage or something—”

“Maybe. That hit…”

“Right. God, I’m sorry, Rem.”

If Remus’s Adam’s apple bobs at the nickname, Sirius doesn’t notice. He certainly doesn’t try his best not to jump to conclusions. (Double negative; that’s a yes, a voice that sounds suspiciously like James’s says in his head. Shut up, he tells it.)

“It’s fine. Really. I just don’t like talking about it. And besides, I like this. Working with the team, even if I can’t be a part of it.”

“You are. A part of the team, I mean. Just as much as I am.”

“Sure.”

There’s another awkward pause before Remus clears his throat. “So, I’m gonna put on some anti-inflammatory gel because it’s a little swollen, but don’t get used to it. I want you to keep doing some stretches, not too much pressure. Capeesh?”

“What the fuck is a capeesh?”

“Just say it.”

“...Capeesh?”

“Awesome.”

Remus leans forward towards him, their foreheads almost touching. Sirius’s breath catches.

It’s over just as suddenly. The tube of extra-strength Voltaren is in Remus’s hand, and Sirius feels stupid for thinking he was going to—

Nope. Not thinking about that.

When he feels tears start to prick at his eyes, he glances up at the fluorescent lights overhead; at least then he’ll have an excuse. There’s a moth resting on one. Its wings flutter once, twice, then go still. Fragile things, moths are—maybe it’s died, maybe it hasn’t. He could read into that, but he won’t.

He jumps when the cool of the gel on Remus’s hands touches his foot. “Hey!” He yelps, looking quickly down.

Sirius hates to succumb to cliches, but he would be lying if he was to say his heart doesn’t still.

Because Remus has pulled the sleeves of his jacket up to his elbows, and his wrist is turned to the sky—to Sirius, who has seen that mark before somewhere.

Somewhere. He’s kidding himself. He’s seen it every day whenever he bothers to look at his own soulmark, and he’s seeing it again now.

“You know what, I’m fine,” he blurts out, shaking his ankle out of Remus’s grasp. “Thanks, though. See you later, Loops.”

***

Remus stays there for a second, watching Sirius leave. He doesn’t know what he did wrong, and he’s not sure he wants to.

When he gets up to leave, tossing the container towards the first aid kit on the bench and allowing himself a small smile when it lands perfectly inside, blood rushes to his head. He closes his eyes, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

And then he crashes into Finn.

“Whoa, sorry,” Remus says, stumbling backwards.

“Nah, don’t stress it. There’s just something I want you to check on.”

Remus is hit by a sense of deja vu. He wonders if Finn, too, is going to leave without explanation. He follows him back into the PT room, Finn gesturing for him to lock the door.

Though he may be the shorter of the two, Remus knows it’s his job to be the bigger person. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

Finn waits another moment before yanking one sleeve up to reveal three paw prints, each no bigger than a thumbnail, clustered together—one forest green, one golden, and one a deep navy blue.

“Your soulmark.” Remus doesn’t understand. “What? Is something wrong?”

“There’s three of them,” Finn says. “Which means there’s three of us.”

“You have two soulmates?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s fine, Finn. It may not be common, but it’s not unheard of. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”

“It’s not that. It’s… hey, you can’t tell anyone this, okay?”

“I know. Doctor-patient confidentiality, remember?”

“Right.” Finn takes a breath, squeezing his eyes closed. “What if I told you I know who they are? Or I think I do?”

“Hypothetically?”

“Hypothetically.”

“Well, I’d ask you if they knew.”

“And I’d say I don’t think so. One of them’s pretty stubborn—wouldn’t see love if it stood up on the ice and sang the national anthem—and the other isn’t nineteen yet, so he doesn’t—I mean wouldn’t—have his mark yet.”

“His?”

Finn’s eyes widen. There is a pause before he nods, slowly. “Yeah. Got a problem?”

“Trust me, I’m the last person on earth who’d have a problem with something like that. Hypothetically.”

This, at least, earns Remus a smile. “Are you…?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” Another pause. “What if I told you, still hypothetically, that they were both on the team?”

“Then I’d say get the fuck out of here and win them over before they start thinking you’ve forgotten about them.”

Finn, smiling ear to ear, starts to leave. “Wait,” he says, hand on the doorknob. “You said you were…”

“Gay.”

“Yeah. Do—do you know who your soulmate is?”

Remus opens his mouth to say ‘no.’ He really does. But what comes out—when he takes into account the look of recognition on Sirius’s face when Remus had his sleeves rolled up; the understanding that had passed between them outside Remus’s building (god, that was just last night); the way they’ve always just clicked—is most certainly not ‘no.’

“Oh, fuck, I think I do,” he says, and he and Finn run out into the hallway together.

Sirius’s car is pulling out of the parking lot when Remus arrives, out of breath, at the front doors of the arena.

“I don’t know why he’s in such a hurry.” Remus jumps. He hadn’t heard James come to stand beside him. “Just packed up his gear at the speed of light and left. Didn’t even shower; he said he’d do it at home.”

So Sirius had been so appalled—disgusted, even—at Remus being his soulmate that he’d left without explanation, with barely even a goodbye. There was a pleasant thought.

He turns so his back is against the door, sliding slowly down to sit on the floor.

“Y’know,” James says, sitting next to him, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you needed a hug.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence before Remus says, “James?”

“Yeah?”

“I need a hug.”

James gives the best hugs. Everyone says so. But until now, Remus has never been on the receiving end of a true James Potter hug—warm, strong, and friendly as hell. (“I want that on a t-shirt,” James says when Remus tells him so.)

But eventually, James has to go, too, and Remus heads back to the PT room. He passes Logan in the hall, looking like he’s been hit over the head with a two-by-four. Maybe it’s Finn’s doing; he had mentioned that one of them was oblivious. Logan, Remus knows, is the definition of oblivious.

***

“And I think that’s all,” Coach Weasley says, glancing around, “Unless anyone else has something to say? Moody? Cap? Loops?”

“Actually, yes,” says Remus after a moment. “Checkups! Not naming names but Kris lied about his rib acting up so now all of you get to be interrogated.”

Sirius swallows. He’s not anxious to be alone with Remus; not after yesterday. There’s no way there aren’t going to be questions.

Kasey goes first, Remus taking just under five minutes to deem him ‘good to go.’ Kris, surprisingly, is only kept for eight, despite the claim of his ribs acting up again. Finn takes the longest—fifteen minutes—and as soon as he’s out he grabs Logan and Leo by the wrists and marches them off somewhere. Sirius’s turn comes last, right after Pascal’s, who gives him a knowing look as he enters.

“Hi,” Remus says, first aid kit nowhere in sight. “Sit down.”

“Where?” Sirius gets only a shrug in response.

He hesitates a moment, then sits on the floor, picking at the sole of his sneaker.

“How are you feeling?” Remus asks suddenly.

“Fine. Ankle’s not bothering me any more.”

“No, I mean how are you feeling?”

Scoffing, he starts to stand up. “I’m not doing this.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Sirius Black, sit your ass back down before I make you.”

Sirius sits his ass back down.

“Good. Now, how are you feeling?”

“I’m… confused,” he says, trying to be honest without being specific. “And nervous. And I cried myself to sleep last night, which I haven’t done since I was like seventeen, so there’s that. But mostly I’m just really fucking mad.”

“At me.” It isn’t a question.

“No, not at you! At me! At the—” he gestures wildly. “—Universe, or whatever. Can I go now?”

Remus doesn’t even acknowledge his request. “So you’re disappointed.”

“...Yeah.”

“May I ask why?”

“I’m pretty sure you fucking know why.”

“Maybe I do. But I’d like you to explain it to me.”

The stupid thing is that Sirius wants to talk about it. He really does. And Remus is the only person he can conceivably talk about it to. But he still chokes on his words when he says, anger burning his throat, “It was never supposed to be like this.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Sirius practically screams. “Stop trying to fucking— psychoalalyze me or something, for fuck’s sake. You fucking asked, and I—” He tears his fingers through his hair, feeling his chest start to constrict. “Just stop talking!”

The echoes of his shouts fade out too quickly, and the only thing worse than the voices is the sound of his breathing getting faster and faster. Remus’s hand twitches, as though he wants to touch him but thinks better of it.

“It was always supposed to be someone different. Someone faceless; nameless. Someone I could run away from. I can’t fucking run away from you, Remus.

“I always thought I could lie. That I could—pretend, or something. Just keep hiding. It was supposed to be someone I could hide from, because I’ve spent my whole life fucking hiding and that’s all I know how to do. It was never supposed to be someone I could fall in love with.”

There’s a choked noise from where Remus is sitting on the bench, but nothing else. Sirius refuses to look at him.

“And I just—I just fucking hate this, because all I’ve been told is that hockey comes before my dreams. And that’s made sense until now because until now hockey was my dream, but now there’s you. Yeah.”

Remus, to his credit, waits until Sirius’s breathing has calmed down and he’s furiously wiped the tears from his eyes to speak. “What do you need?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean forget everything. Forget your family, forget the team, forget me—what do you need?

“Right now? For the rest of my life? Because those are two very different things.”

“Let’s start with now. Can I do anything for you? Can you do anything for yourself?”

“I need a hot chocolate.”

***

They wait until everyone else has gone, and then make their way outside to Sirius’s car. There’s only one other in the parking lot—a grey Toyota Remus thinks belongs to Nado, or maybe Kris. He’s not sure why he thinks it matters, because it doesn’t.

Silence hangs around them the whole four blocks to the nearest Tim Horton’s. Inhale; exhale. Inhale; exhale. This doesn’t necessarily mean anything.

That doesn’t stop Remus from hoping.

He knows it’s wrong; of course he does. It’s Sirius’s choice, in the end, because Sirius is the one who will be most affected. His career, his life—all on the line if he decides to trust whatever plan the world has in store for them. It’s not like that for Remus. Not anymore.

There’s a parking spot right outside the front door. Sirius pulls into it, but he doesn’t get out right away. He glances around, makes sure there’s no one immediately in sight, and then he looks down to where his hands now rest in in his lap. Slowly, he pulls up his right sleeve to expose, bit by bit, his soulmark.

“I don’t know why I never guessed it could be you—Wolfy McWolf Wolf.”

Remus feels his lips twitch upwards into something resembling a smile. “I could say the same, Dog Black.”

When he puts his hand on the console, Sirius rests his on top of it. It’s not much.

But it’s something.

***

Sirius looks longingly at the Boston cream doughnuts. “Please. I haven’t had one in so long.”

“Think again, Mr. I’m-on-a-diet-plan.”

He’s not surprised. What was he thinking, having his PT as his soulmate? (Well, he wasn’t. He didn’t get to choose. But, he thinks to himself, the point still stands.)

“I’ll have a medium hot chocolate, please, a plain toasted bagel,” Remus looks at him and sighs. “...And a Boston cream doughnut.”

When the food is set down on the pickup counter, Remus snatches it before Sirius has a chance to. “Hey, this is my doughnut.”

Sirius pouts.

“You’re cute. Here.” He tosses him the brown paper bag, and Sirius removes his prize carefully. He‘s going to eat every piece of chocolate glazing if it kills him.

Back out in the car—this is a conversation neither of them is willing to have in the public dining area—Remus chews on his bagel thoughtfully. Sirius tries and fails not to swear when his hot chocolate burns his tongue.

“Shit!”

Remus glances over at him. Their eyes meet for a moment, then both look away. “So,” Sirius says after a while. “I think we need to talk.”

“Yeah.”

Silence, then—

“You go first,” they say at the same time, and laugh. Some of the tension is broken.

Sirius reaches hesitantly to where Remus’s arm rests between the seats. He doesn’t need to voice his question—Remus sees it in his eyes; nods.

Up close, he can see that there are a few differences between their marks. Nothing that could possibly mean they aren’t soulmates—just the discolouring on the dog’s tail; the angle of one of the sticks; the faded white gash that stretches from one side of Remus’s wrist to the other, separating the wolf’s head from its body. Sirius doesn’t quite know what he’s doing when he presses his lips to the scar.

When he looks up, he sees that Remus is trying not to cry. And that’s when he makes his decision.

“I want this,” he says, voice soft but sure. “All of it.”

#sweater weather lumosinlove #coops #soulmate au #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #sweater weather secret santa #tw: panic attack

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midnxghtsunwrites · 4 years

Text

GROUNDED

PAIRING —

william miller x black reader

SUMMARY —

You and Will have been through too much for you to abandon him at his darkest hour.

WARNINGS —

angst, fluff

"Baby, I'm sorry." Your voice was quiet as you rubbed the back of William's hand. His skin is rough and scarred against the pad of your thumb — a symbol of the hardships he's endured both during his service and after.

You'd stuck by his side all those years ago when he was in the brigade commandeered by Tom "Redfly" Davis. They were close — damn, you were all close. You were practically Tess's aunt, showing up at every birthday party and barbecue before Tom's divorce made way.

The years you've been with Will gave you clarity — into his struggle with PTSD and the emotional impact serving as a Special Force Operative had on him. He even taught you a thing or two, defense-wise, before he was caught in a situation in your local Publix — his arm wrapped around another man's throat because he hadn't moved his cart. That lead you to jump on his back and wrangle him back to reality.

He's a soldier in every sense of the word.

He'd gotten better after that incident — attending therapy sessions and doing more public speaking at military bases. It was better to keep his mind off of the terror and trauma from his years of fighting in a war.

He was doing better. And then Santiago just had to come along and convince him to join him for one last ride. Of course, you couldn't do much but support him — that's all he ever asked for. Your love and support. And you were hesitant to give it to him.

But, you did.

And he left for two weeks and returned with a bullet wound — another scar added to his shelf of souvenirs — and a dead captain.

The first night he came back was spent on the beachfront of your home, unable to hide the tears any longer. That night, he slept with his head over your heart, almost as if to make sure it was still beating.

You gave him his space for three days — to get his bearings and a handle on life.

You weren't surprised when he gathered you up one day and drove you to your spot. It was where you had your first date however many years ago — he'd paid for the meal and was a proper gentleman. Of course, you just had to give him your number and hope for the best. Immediately, you knew he was drawn back.

He'd just finished his first tour and the trauma was as strong as it was present — you didn't expect to get a call back after he dropped you home. You were at work when he did, though.

From then on, you and Will had been connected in a way no one really understood. But, it wasn't for them to understand. It's like a well-kept secret between two lovers.

Will's eyes are trained on your dainty fingers as you trace jagged waves along his tainted skin. Your touch could calm a storm, he always tells you. His back presses against the wall of the restaurant, a tattooed arm resting atop the back of his seat, and his other arm stretched across the cold metal table towards you.

Your fingers run up the inside of his wrist and trails the ink in his skin. It's his Force tattoo, faded against his fair skin from years of wearing it as a badge of honor. This isn't his only tattoo.

Just on his other arm is a tribute to a fallen soldier from his first tour. They were the closest friends each other had before Benny decided to join the army as well. It was by a miracle that he was put into the same regiment as his brother.

It didn't seem like much of a miracle when William's friend was blown to pieces on the field.

William lazily tips the neck of his beer bottle to his mouth as he shifts his gaze to the crease between your eyebrows — one that only appears when you're concentrated.

You're so taken with his marred skin littered with healed wounds that you jump slightly when he lifts his hand to take a hold of your own, removing your fingers from his forearm.

He raises your connected fingers and presses it to his lips. Your lips form a pout when you see the tears gathering in his eyes. As he draws your hand away, his gaze transfers to the bare ring finger on your left hand.

"I love you." He proclaims, as he rubs your ring metacarpal, "And I want to thank you for being patient with me. I know..." He sighs as he tries to find the right words to say. Finally, "I know it hasn't been easy being with someone so broken."

You want to stop him. You want to tell him that relationships aren't always easy. You want to tell him that he's not broken, just in pain. You want to tell him that you love him too. So much that it hurts.

But you don't. You wait for him to express his feelings. As long as you have to.

"You've been there for me, Y/N — even when no one else has. You've been helping me for so long that I feel..." He can't continue, instead choosing to look down at your connected hands.

Your finger rubs against his as you realize this, "It's okay, Will. You know you can talk to me."

Your words give him that gentle push — "I feel like I'm keeping you from your life, Y/N. You've had to deal with my trauma and I've been ignoring you and your feelings. I don't want to do that to you, baby. Not anymore. I wanna take care of you instead of it being the other way around."

Y/C/E meet blue as you lean back in interest. Your boyfriend couldn't be more wrong about how he thinks you feel. He's held you back from nothing — when you asked him to move to a new neighborhood, he packed up your bags and boxes and loaded the moving truck; when you asked him to stick by you when you went back to school, he helped you study and ace all off your exams to receive your degree; when you asked him to be there for you, he was. And you know he always will be.

With this in mind, you slide out of your side of the booth, your hand still intertwined with his. He watches you, carefully as you step off the platform on your side before stepping up on his. His legs are stretched along the seat, prompting you to plop yourself right down on his lap. His beautiful blue eyes stare up at you.

Instinctively, he plants his beer on the table and snakes his arms around your waist, keeping you in place. You can feel the bulge of his crotch on the right side of your thigh but restrain yourself — now isn't the time.

"You see that?" Your right hand presses against his chest while your left hand finds its place on his strong arm, right above his military tattoo. You refer to his instinct to hold you. "That is you taking care of me. That is you loving me more than I deserve. Baby," You search his eyes, his pupils dilating as he's overtaken with love, "You're my life. Don't think you've been ignoring me, Will. We just had to reduce that pain you've been living with. Because I'm not happy if you're not happy."

Reaching an arm around, you take his hand into yours and pulls it from your waist. His hand falls limp as he watches you draw him towards you. You rest the palm of his hand on your chest, right above your beating heart.

At the feeling of the organ beating against your chest, Will is brought back to earth. You keep him grounded and that's all he could ever ask of you.

"This is yours, Will. You own it. We've been through too much for you not to."

As you watch the thoughts swirl behind his expressive eyes, you're confused when he pulls his hand away from you. He reaches into his jeans pocket and emerges with a clasped fist. Hovering over the table palm down, he opens his hand and brings your attention to the rose gold ring — a significant contrast from the wooden surface it rests on.

Your breath catches in your throat and your heart is pounding against your ribcage.

He looks at it for a moment before tilting his head towards you, "Marry me."

"Will..."

"It’s been a long time coming, Y/N. We've been together for eight years — which I'm sure is seven years longer than what you wanted.”

He loves you, ardently, and now he finds the strength he was searching desperately for just the other day. "I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. With every fragmented piece of me that you've managed to put back together. And I'm forever grateful that you came into my life when I least expected you, but most needed you."

Now it's your turn for your heart to melt — you're growing weak at his words, eyes filling slowly with tears.

His eyes remain on you as you crane your neck to ogle the engagement band on the table. The center is oval shaped and sparkling under the dim lighting of the restaurant. It's beautiful, perfect even — more than you could've asked for.

He is more than you could've asked for.

"I'm done with this shit, babe." Will says as he sees an indecipherable look in your eye. Overthinking leads him to believe that you have doubts about his minimalistic proposal, "I'm completely retired. It's just us — no Pope, no Fish, no Benny, no —" He stops himself before he can say the name.

It's too soon.

The silence between you two is deafening as you're frozen in your spot.

All you can seem to release is his name — it's the only word on your tongue. The only sound you could muster.

He brushes a kinky curl from your forehead and stares up at you, awaiting an answer. Everything in you tells you to speak. To do something — anything.

It's only when Will's grip loosens around your waist that you're snapped back into reality. You'd only dreamed for this moment and now that it's here, your brain seemed to be malfunctioning. Instead of opening your mouth, you reach forward and with your index finger and thumb, you lift the beautiful ring from the table.

"Yes." The word is so quiet that you didn't even realize you said it. Speak up. "Yes, I'll marry you, Will. Christ, you didn't even have to ask."

This has to be the first time he's smiled since he came home. It's bright and amazing and nostalgic. White teeth wink at you as he wastes no time taking the ring from your fingers and sliding it on your digit, his eyes seeming to reflect the sparkle of the engagement band.

The kiss you two share is nothing grandiose. Your kisses rarely are — but they still hold a level of sensuality and passion that many can just wish for. Will runs his tongue along your bottom lip before capturing it in his warm beer-flavored mouth. You don't mind — he has good taste in alcohol.

For a moment, you two forget that you're in a public space. One where patrons are making their exit, but public nonetheless. You pull away when you feel the tears gather in your eyes. You love this man with your heart, mind, and soul — every part of you is overwhelmed with a wave of fervent endearment.

"Damn, I love you." Will exhales as he draws you into a homely embrace.

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let me know if you'd like to join my general taglist! feel free to like, reblog, and comment! also, my asks are open — and im taking requests!

#charlie hunnam imagine #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam x black reader #william miller imagine #william miller x black reader #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier

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theaviskullguy · 3 years

Text

Ink and Petals

@dapple-dualies-propaganda here's the au

Tattoo artist! Rider x Florist! Goggles

hope you enjoy!

---------

When was it not busy at Squid ink?

It was one of the top Tattoo Parlors in Inkopolis. and it was also on a pretty busy street. So, it got a lot of customers. Also the fact that one of the artists was a famous turfer.

Rider hadn't formerly retired, but he had eased out of playing Turf Wars. He had found other interests outside of the sport: Theater, art, reviewing old movies online... He still did Turf from time to time, albeit the adult league. He was too old for the more popular teen division.

So, he found a job as a tattoo artist. And he rather loved it. Not only did most of his friends consult him for tattoo advice (from where the best places are to good designs), but he also knew some gossip. One of his regulars had beef with her neighbor because he has a pet raccoon who keeps stealing her trash and Rider could NOT wait to hear more about this story.

Another thing was, well, Rider had seen some shit. From people covered head to toe in tats, to people eagerly wanting their first tattoo, even to shyer folk who wanted one to defy controlling parents or to mark something important.

None of that prepared Rider for the news he got when tattooing one of the customers. More specifically, Gloves.

You see, Gloves had been coming in for the past few days. They had wanted a pretty complicated butterfly tat, so for the last 3 days Rider has been exchanging stories with the resident enby about... pretty much anything.

This is how this exchange happened;

"So you remember Goggles, right?" Gloves asked.

Rider rolled his eyes. "What, you think I'd forget the guy who kept pulling down my pants?"

"Oh ha ha. Anyways, apparently he works at that flower shop now."

"...He what?"

"You heard me!" They said. "I went there yesterday to get something for a project and there was Goggles! He misses you, 'ya know!"

Rider was just. quiet. He hadn't talked to his crush in a while, contact dwindled when Rider stopped doing Turf as much. Never once did he think Goggles would miss him, but that was probably the self hatred talking.

"...I'll think about it." Was all Rider said.

The conversation continued like nothing happen; Gloves saying multiple cursed things and Rider sharing interesting stories he heard on his job. Time flew by and soon, the tattoo was done; a butterfly with the bi colors on one wing and the nb colors on the other. Rider was quite proud of it, and Gloves seemed to like it. They waved, and left the store, humming to themselves.

Rider looked at the clock. His shift ended in just a few minutes. He knew he had no other appointments that day, so he took to watching old recorded matches in his phone.

Those were over a decade ago. Yet he still remembered everything. His favorite part was still learning he won a match by such a small margin. It was just... amazing.

He sighed. Rider missed those battles. But he has to say, he missed his crush a bit more.

He clocked out, saying goodbye to the other employee-Cherry (business relationships were easy to maintain when your coworkers were your siblings), and headed towards the flower shop for more reasons than one.

Army had a performance the next day. And yeah, Rider knew it was romantic, but platonically giving your best friend flowers was always nice. Plus, he wanted an excuse to see Goggles again.

He looked into the shop-the blue inkling was nowhere to be seen, but then again neither was the front desk. So, Rider shrugged and stepped in.

The floral scent was strong, but not overwhelming. Plenty of blossoms lined the stands, along with tags of what the flowers were and what they meant.

Rider looked around, trying to remember which flowers Army liked again, when he heard a familiar, youthful voice.

"Hi! Need any help?"

The inkling turned around. Goggles had definitely changed since Rider last saw him; his tentacles were longer and in an actual bun, for once. His blue eyes still had that clarity, and he still had that goofy smile. Though he didn't seem to recognize Rider.

"Uhh... I'll be fine. I'm just trying to remember what flower my friend likes the most." He said, hoping his accent didn't give him away; there weren't many in Inkopolis with an Australian accent.

But, Goggles didn't seem to notice or care. "Oh, okay!"

Rider internally breathed a sigh of relief. That would have been awkward if Goggles recognized him.

He looked around the shop, before spotting a bouquet of lilies. He knew Army liked lilies. If they weren't his favorite flower, it'd be close enough.

Rider took a few of the bigger ones, and a few white roses for variety, and took them to the counter.

Goggles smiled. "This a special occasion?"

"Not exactly. Just, my friend's doing a performance for a musical and I wanted to get him something for it." Rider explained.

"What musical?" Gogs asked, arranging the flowers with a sheer, white ribbon tying them together.

"Hadestown. He got Eurydice."

"Oh! I went to go see it last night! Army's amazing at that role. He's your friend, right?"

Rider internally panicked, but calmed down after remembering he wasn't Army's only friend. "Yeah. We've been friends for a while now."

"Well, tell him I said hi!" He handed the bouquet to Rider. "On me, alright? It's for a friend anyways!"

Rider nodded. "Thanks, mate."

"You're welcome!"

------

A few weeks went by. Rider occasionally stopped at the flower shop and got flowers for...well, no real reason. He'd use them to add color to his house, or give them to friends. He just wanted an excuse to see Goggles.

He'd talked to the blue inkling a bit more, too. He'd gotten into the business since, well, he really liked flowers, and he wanted a job where he could just...relax! He still did Turf, of course, but the Adult league was more serious than the teen one, and he just wanted to have fun instead of be expected to take a game seriously.

He still didn't recognize Rider. The yellow-green inkling was a bit hurt by this, to be honest.

Though, it was a bit startling when Goggles actually walked into Rider's work. And Rider was assigned to give Goggles his first tattoo: A blue jay on his shoulder, taking off from a branch.

This time, it was Goggles' turn to ask questions as Rider worked.

"Sooo.... you've been coming into my shop for a while and I still don't know your name!" The blue inkling stated. "I mean, you can probably recognize me though!"

Rider shrugged. "Well, who can forget Goggles of the Idiot Blue team?"

Goggles giggled. "You do know me! I still don't know you!!"

"...I can assure you, we've met before that day I got Army flowers." Rider said.

"Ooh! Can I try and guess who you are?"

"Ehh, why not."

"Okay! Umm..." Goggles thought for a moment. "Clams facemask?"

Rider shook his head. "Nope."

"Inkfall?"

"Wrong."

"Eging Jr?"

"Not even close there."

"Stealth Goggles?"

"Getting closer, I'll give you that."

"....Rider?" Goggles asked.

Rider chuckled. "Took you long enough, idiot."

Goggles smiled wide. "I finally found you! Hi Riri!"

"Hey, Gogs. It's been a while."

"Yeah! I'm a bit surprised I didn't recognize you, since we were pretty close!" Goggles stated.

Rider shrugged. "Well, I'm not the most memorable person anyways."

"Riderrrrr don't say that!" Goggles said. "You're still really popular!"

"To some people, maybe. Not everyone."

There was a tense silence, other than the hum of the tattoo needle as it made the drawing.

"....So." Goggles started again. "How's life?"

"It's...well, better than it was." Rider said. "Got my own place, for one. Though it gets a bit lonely.. You?"

"I'm still living in an apartment. I really want a roommate!" Goggles proclaimed. "Maybe we could move in together?"

"..I'll think about it, Gogs. Though it might be fun being your roommate."

"Really? Thanks Rider!" Goggled smiled.

The conversation grew more casual. Rider enjoyed it; turns out Goggles had his fair share of gossip. It was kinda cool.

And as the next few days passed, Rider looked forward to each of those sessions. His crush seemed to go from "this person would be fun to date i think" to "hOLY MOTHER OF THE GODS IM IN L O V E", and it didn't help that during those meetings, Goggles had to be shirtless.

The days turned into weeks and months. Goggles moved in with Rider, and the two became incredibly close friends.

And, it came to a head near valentines day. Goggles' shop was very busy, as expected. Luckily, Squid Ink wasn't as much.

So, on his day off, just before Valentines, Rider headed to the flower shop and got a bouquet of roses. Cliché to confess on Valentines day, Rider knew, but he's a pining gay cut him some slack.

And Rider came home right as Goggles was leaving for his shift. So, that left Rider with a good 3 hours to practice his confession.

"Alright, Rider. This has to be CASUAL. 'Hey, I've liked you for over a decade but just now had the confidence to confess!' No, too creepy sounding. 'Yo, Gogs. I really like you and maybe we could go out to dinner sometimes?' ...Too casual."

....Yeah, this went on for a while.

Rider groaned, collapsing his his bed. "I wish feelings were fucking easier...I should just call Army."

So, he grabbed his phone and selected the contact, Veronica Sawyer Kinnie

"C'mon, Army... pick up."

And not one ring later, "Rider, what is it?"

"...I need romantic help. Please." Rider asked.

"Look, just because I'm married to Aloha, doesn't mean I know how I ended up here."

"Yeah, I kinda know that." He stated. "Still. I really need some help."

Army sighed. "Who is it? It's totally that one person with the raccoon story-"

"Actually, no. It's, um.... It's Goggles."

The octoling on the other end of the line could be heard sighing. "Still a morosexual I see."

"OI! You're the one who married a fuckin himbo!"

".....Touché. Still, there's a difference."

Rider huffed. "Just... give me some advice. I wanna confess to him tomorrow but I've got no idea how. I'm giving him roses, but like, there's gotta be something more I could do, y'know?"

"Have you tried asking Prince?" Army suggested. "He is the one with the obsession with rom coms and romance novels."

"This is his exam period, Army. I'm not about to potentially interrupt a cram session by asking for romantic advice!"

"Fair enough. I'd say...well, just rip off the band aid. Like... 'Hey, Goggles, I really like you and was wondering if you'd like to be my boyfriend.'"

"...Thanks, Arm. I'll, uh, give it a try."

-------

Rider couldn't sleep that well. Mainly out of anticipation.

He was gonna confess to his crush of...over a decade, at least. He didn't fuckin know what was gonna happen!

Like, would Goggles reciprocate? Would he hate Rider after it? WHAT THE FUCK WOULD HAPPEN-

He sighed. He needed to get his mind off this shit.

Rider looked over to his bedside clock: 5AM. 5 hours before his shift. 5 hours to get his shit together and plan for confessing to the world's cutest but also dumbest man later that night.

C'mon, Rider. Think. Army said to rip it off like a band aid, but Goggles might find that a little sudden and out of the blue. He could write a letter and leave it for Goggles when he went to his shift (The flower shop was closed on Valentines day). That would be a safe option.

Rider sat up, and got out a piece of paper and pencil, writing a note.

"Hey, Goggles.

There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while. I really, really like you. As in, a crush.

I totally get it if you don't like me back, or think I'm weird, but hey, I was wondering if you'd wanna go out to dinner or something. Probably not tonight cause of Valentine's day but maybe tomorrow night or something.

-Rider"

Quickly, he folded it and wrote Goggles' name, putting a little heart sticker on it. It was corny, but hey, Rider had to use up those stickers somehow.

Rider attached it to the roses, and kept it on his desk.

And so, the morning went as normal. He had breakfast, got out of his pjs, put his hair up... the usual.

But as Rider left to go to work, he left the note and rose on the table, and left the house quickly.

During the day, he nearly forgotten all about it; He caught up with the gossip-Apparently the neighbor with the raccoon and the regular were now dating. So that was a nice little end to the story.

Squid Ink wasn't AS busy-probably because it was Valentines day, people were spending it with their lovers, not getting inked up (unless they made the appointment when single)

And it was near the end of Rider's shift when he heard his name mentioned. Probably someone making an appointment before he heard the familiar voice of Goggles going "Okay!!"

The blue inkling walked over to his station. "Hi Ridey!!"

"...Hey, Gogs. Getting another tat?" Rider asked, trying to keep his cool.

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!!!"

"A'ight anything specific in mind or-"

"Can I get just a simple quote one?"

Rider nodded. "Where do you want it?"

Goggles pulled down the collar of his shirt slightly. "Right here, please!"

"Okay. Just try to keep holding that down so I don't mess up.

-----

And so, tattoo conversations ensued.

The quote Goggles had wanted was a simple Pride one, that said "love is love". It was discreet, but a bit of it could be seen poking out if Goggles ever wore a v-neck.

"So, any plans for tonight?" Rider asked, trying to keep things subtle. Maybe Goggles hadn't read the note yet.

The blue inkling nodded. "Kinda! I had mental plans buuuuut nothing serious."

Rider raised an eyebrow. "Who with?"

"..I m-mean, I still have to ask him.." Goggles' face turned a shade of blue, and he averted his gaze.

"....Can I guess who he is?"

"If ya can!"

He smiled. "Does his name have an R in it?" Rider had a guess it was himself, but it wouldn't hurt to check.

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!"

"Got an accent?"

"Yep!!"

"Is he doing your tattoo?"

"....y-yeah?" Goggles sheepishly smiled. "I'm n-not that discreet, am I?"

Rider chuckled, but on the inside he was screeching. "Honestly? I had no clue myself."

"Really? I've been dropping the most obvious hints!"

"...Like what?" Rider asked, now a bit curious.

"Welllll I've been picking movies you like during movie night, I've made sure to get your drink on coffee runs, Oh! And I offered to cook dinner that one time!" Goggles stated.

"...Damn. I'm just oblivious then." The former dynamo user laughed, before turning off the needle. "There. It's all done." Rider held up a mirror for the blue boy.

Goggles' face lit up. "Whoa! It looks amazing!!! Thanks Riri!"

Rider smiled. "You're welcome. Now, uh, ...did you read my note?"

"..Y-yeah, I did. And, um...I like you too Rider!!" The blue man pressed a small, quick kiss to Rider's cheek.

Rider blushed. "S-so, you'll let me t-take you out?"

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!!!"

"I...thanks, Gogs."

"You're welcome Riri!!!"

----------

aAAAAA RUSHED END

but like. hope yall enjoy!

#Galax Writes #tattoo artist x florist #splatoon #coroika #coroika rider #coroika goggles #goggles x rider

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facets-and-rainbows · 4 years

Text

Blue Exorcist 10th anniversary book Q&A session

The 10th anniversary book has a section where Katoh answers 100 questions submitted by fans on Twitter, so here they are translated/paraphrased! May contain manga spoilers up to the recent flashback arc, so be warned.

(Note that I’m playing it very fast and loose here because there are A HUNDRED OF THEM, so not exact wordings, but it should capture the gist. Lemme know if there are any you want elaborated on)

1. Katoh likes the feel of traditional drawing more than digital but is impressed with how far digital has come

2. Meph THOROUGHLY ABUSES spacetime to watch all his shows and ensure that he gets all the merch he wants

3. Did the girls take all of Yukio’s school uniform buttons in middle school? Yes, they did (apparently it’s like A Thing for girls to ask for a button from their crush at middle school graduation, based on some sad movie from the 60s where a guy who got drafted as a kamikaze pilot gave a girl one of his uniform buttons to remember him by)

4. Rin's tail is about a meter long

5. There are tons of servants working at Mephisto's mansion. Belial is in charge of them

6. Katoh borrows from all sorts of neat real locations when making settings

7. Katoh identifies with pretty much all the characters the most! Except Lucifer.

8. Demon designs she's proud of include the impure king and hachirou, pretty much anything that was the main one in an arc

9. Katoh lists a bunch of her favorite musical artists/music she’s listening to recently: King Gnu, Official Hige Dandism, Kenshi Yonezu, BAD HOP, Sakanaction, Keyakizaka 46, Hypnosis Mic, Aimer, B’Z, Queen Bee.

10. Awww the rabbit manga that characters are often reading isn't just Robo to Usakichi, it's an even older one that she drew as a little kid

11. She likes industrial style interior designs

12. Rin and Yukio alternated who got the top bunk growing up, because they couldn't agree on it lol

13. Katoh cares a whole lot about panel layouts and speech bubble positions, might even be her favorite part of the process (it shows!)

4. Katoh does NOT have a mashou, lol

15. Rin has probably been practicing in secret so he can learn to carry stuff with his tail

16. Izumo probably got into shojo manga around 1st grade, her mom had some around the house

17. Specialty dishes: Rin - lots of stuff but especially nabe Yuri - stuff you can throw together quickly Shiro - stuff he learned from Yuri and/or cookbooks, alongside teaching Rin Yukio - Does. Not. Cook.

18. Can't pick a favorite place she's been on research, but there's no place like Japan

19. Kinzou's band isn't currently meeting because demons, but he's probably still thinking of new songs

20. Hardest characters to draw: anyone with detailed flowing hair. Hardest to write for: Lightning and Gedouin. She had to go read books about serial killers specifically for material for Gedouin, lol

21. Suguro actually gets a dorm room to himself, though allegedly Yukio is technically assigned as his roommate, lol. Didn't end up that way what with Yukio being a teacher and also Rin’s whole...situation

22. Shiemi makes some of her own hair accessories! Cute

23. Katoh doesn't mind if you include stuff with fan letters but check with the editor first

24. Time for making each chapter: Planning/storyboarding: 1-5 days. Sketching: 3-5 days. Drawing/inking: the rest. Just...the rest of the time

25. Neither Suguro nor Izumo have dated before and neither is currently dating. But that's probably just because things were hectic for them! It could happen

26. Yukio breaks 5 or 6 pairs of glasses a year, someone get this kid a strap or something

27. How many spare glasses does Yukio have? Check the fanbook lol it's in there (dang it Katoh)

28. The demon she wants us to pay the most attention to is Lucifer. Because plot.

29. What's under the Order's big meeting table? It's a BOTTOMLESS PIT and if you fall in it you DIE that's what makes it COOL (laughs)

30. What are the job requirements for the angelic legion? Literally just Arthur liking you and inviting you to join

31. She WANTS to do more character profiles but just hasn't gotten to it

32. Rin's tail feels like a cat tail, texture wise

33. The "red Assiah fire" is literally just actual fire nothing special

34. Rin's current hair color is light blue fading to white at the ends

35. Thoughts on Rin's growth: she likes that he stays positive in awful situations and she also thinks it's very main character of him to face the past instead of avoiding it

36. Mephisto didn't purposely surround Rin with stuffed animals when he woke up after going crispy. Mephisto's bed is just Like That

37. Kurikara was based on a cool sword she found in a sword book, but that one was technically just a ceremonial sword. The symbol on it us a Sanskrit letter kaan (sp?) associated with Fudou Myouou

38. Kuro can communicate with normal cats and hangs out with them often

39. Sometimes Shiemi's skirt is extra fancy around the hem what's up with that? Apparently it's an optional accessory that comes with the skirts help I haven't noticed this and don't know any fashion terms in any language

40. When coloring, Katoh always tries to have an overall theme in mind ("emphasis on blue" etc) so it comes together in the end

41. Yes the twins are genetically related to Shiro because of Goro (she says they're like his nephews but I say GENETICALLY at least they'd be indistinguishable from his children)

42. Strongest mom of all the strong moms around here? Yuri! Did you SEE her give birth??

43. Are you careful about your own health Katoh-sensei? Not particularly! Her mom has had to bring her food at work sometimes! Don't do this at home kids

44. At the dating events Shura goes to, does she drink cocktails in moderation? Yeah, she probably downplays her normal drinking habits at these things. But normally she's down for just about any kind of drink

45. Lucifer just really likes oysters okay

46. How many pages of manga does Katoh draw in a day? If she's being good about self-care: three. Maximum number ever: TEN

47. Mephisto is one of those folks who can eat like a garbage compactor and never gain weight. Possibly because his body resists that sort of change the same way it resists aging etc

48. First food Rin cooked: fish burger type patty. Yukio's favorite things Rin cooks: fish simmered in soy sauce, yellowtail with daikon radish. It's fish all the way down

49: Did Rin ever get more monthly allowance from Mephisto? It doubled! He gets TWO 2000 yen bills now (rip) [T/N: That's uh, that's USD $37.26 a month or 33.10 euro]

50. Why isn't Rin more popular with the girls? He gets nervous talking to them, plus he's too oblivious to notice even if he DID have some fans

51. Why change Suguro's hair? She gets bored with keeping everything the same, and she wanted a visual representation that he was getting serious and going into kind of a training arc

52. Things Katoh pays extra attention to when drawing: trying to capture the feel of whatever she's drawing (like "that looks warm and soft" or "I bet that guy stinks" cough Lightning cough)

53: Does Rin take after Yuri more? (He's got her eyes!) Katoh tried to draw Yuri so she looks like both twins. Personality, too - Yukio has her smarts and Rin has her optimism

54: Do you ever wanna be like Mephisto? Well she'd like to be able to get away with just ANYTHING EVER, but no, let's not be like Mephisto

55. Konekomaru not only carries around a cat toy in case he meets any cats, he MAKES cat toys to carry around based on what he thinks the cats would like

56. How'd you come up with Shima? Go read the fan book!

57. Do the kids have Twitter/Instagram accounts? Rin - probably not. Konekomaru might be on some social media. Paku and Izumo are totally on instagram

58. Is there something Rin makes that you wish you could try? All of it! That's the whole idea! He's good at cooking!

59. Will we ever have a (G-rated) reveal of what ALL of Mamushi and her family's tattoos look like? Maybe! She'll think about it

60. Does Arthur have a repertoire of different hairstyles? Not really, he just puts some of it up on the top. Heck he might even have people to do that for him

61. If you wrote a shojo manga what would it be about? She'd have to do a lot of research before even coming up with a story, since there are so many style differences between the genres aside from just the subject

62. The other two of Mephisto's top 3 favorite foods: Cup ramen and....f-fried bubblegum?? Is that a THING???

63. Where do you start when drawing a character? Usually the outline of their face but if it's a complex pose/composition she'll start with whatever's in the foreground (like hands)

64. If Katoh could have a familiar, what demon would she choose? Mephisto. As the all-powerful author, she might actually be able to command him as a familiar!

66. If you swapped Yukio and Rin's relationship around what would change? not much, you'd pretty much have Rin going to the Illuminati and Yukio going to the past

67. Top 3 foods/souvenirs to try in Kyushu? Well she doesn't know what’s good CURRENTLY but when she was there she always used to like burdock tempura udon, hakata torimon (a kind of manju with white bean paste inside), and Chikae style cod roe. today I learned Katoh went to high school in Kyushu

68. Katoh listens to music a lot while she's storyboarding, then when she and the assistants are all drawing and inking they put various videos/movies and stuff on in the background

69. For all his hitting on girls, is Shima actually popular with the ladies at all? He's got enough girls in his life that he probably COULD find a girlfriend if he really wanted, but the double agent thing tends to get in the way. He still wouldn't be as popular as Yukio though (side thought/translator’s note: Shima would be proud of being number 69.)

70. Katoh has the ending planned out in a big-picture way, but there are still a few details here and there that she's fretting over

71. It's cute when the boys put their ties over their shoulders when they're working on something! Where'd that come from? She just figured a tie might get in the way and that seemed like a realistic way to get it out of the way

72. Looks like Yukio is getting some facial hair! What about Rin? They're both about the age for it, but maybe Rin can't grow a beard yet. Maybe a little peach fuzz here and there

73. Katoh's favorite blue exorcist merch? There were some exorcist licenses a while back, and the exorcist pins. Basically it's really cool that these little accessories she drew ACTUALLY EXIST NOW, LIKE YOU CAN HOLD THEM IN YOUR HANDS

74. Okay realtalk how long do we have left, I don't want the series to end yet? We're solidly in the second half by now but it's not, like, ABOUT to end yet

75. Katoh would be a Knight meister, based on what characters she likes to play in games and such

76. How many people in the whole exorcism cram school? More than you think! She doesn't give a number but apparently licensed exorcists also attend classes for new meisters, etc, so there's a wide age range attending

77. How's Arthur feel about, like, studying Taming on the way to becoming Paladin? He's at least mostly accepted that you have to use demons to fight demons effectively

78. Konekomaru started wearing glasses in his first year of middle school, so like 7th grade (more recent than I thought!) He has one spare pair, in contrast to Yukio lol

79. Katoh's current obsessions? Ghost/scary stories! She's even been going to live readings of them recently

80. Media Katoh consumes for inspiration? A wide range of foreign teen drama, horror/suspense, shojo manga, light novels, anime, etc. Special focus on things where two boys are in conflict or there are brothers involved

81. If they weren't exorcists what jobs would they have? Rin - chef. Yukio - doctor. Shiemi - uh, florist?

82. Inspiration for the design of True Cross Town? Katoh and her assistants gathered up a bunch of references, picked out stuff they felt matched the tone, and mashed them all up together

83. Did you use any references etc for the school/exorcist uniforms? She says she probably should have but she just kind of made them up before publication

84. Favorite part of drawing? For color pages, picking out a color scheme. For black and white, drawing in all the little details (though she doesn't always get time to lately)

85. Once again confirms the demon kings' weird hair is a representation of their horns. ADDS THAT PEOPLE WHO CAN'T SEE DEMONS CAN'T SEE THE WEIRD HAIR

86. Now that Yukio's at the Illuminati, where's he gonna get his Jump SQ and spare glasses? Well he probably never planned to stay for long, but hey it's a big ship and they might have an optometrist and/or newsstand there

87. Do you base the demon characters on any references etc? Not really, she just gets a general idea of popular demon designs and then makes up her own in her own style

88. Merchandise Katoh personally wants to have made: stuff that an adult could just use in their day to day life. Also, it's not gonna happen, but if her favorite figure brand made AoEx figures she could die happy

89. If Beelzebub's host body was a beautiful woman, how would Shima react? Would the womanizing win out over the bug phobia? Katoh replies that Shima would probably just faint from being near a girl that pretty, before the bugs even got involved

90. Will the twins ever get to smile and eat dinner together again?? We'll just have to wait and see!

91. What do you check at a "scenario check"? what's a scenario check man I dunno They check for people being out of character or the setting feeling off. They had a lot of these checks for the anime, but they also do them for the drama CD, games, and all that other stuff where multiple authors are involved

92. Why does Shura use baldy as an insult for people who are clearly not bald? She feels like they have some kind of metaphorical, mental kind of "baldness" and she's calling them out on it. Whatever that means

93. After Blue Exorcist ends, what do you want to draw next? She has SO MANY IDEAS, SO MANY

94. Did Katoh make up the Shinto chants that, for example, Izumo used against Gedouin? They're assembled from bits of actual Shinto prayers according to what feels right in the scene

95. Yukio reads the Jump SQ, right, and, just hear me out here, he likes gag manga, right? Does this mean he reads Salaryman Yukio? It's something he would read, but let's say that in the AoEx universe there's just a very similar manga that he finds oddly relatable

96. What do Yukio and Shima do in their free time on the Dominus Liminus? oh my god you guys this ship has so many amenities. Yukio probably spends time reading in the library, which they totally have. There's also, like, a gym, and a movie theater, and a THEATER theater, all of which are free. Shima probably hangs out at the pool (!) and goes to the movies, and hits on illuminati girls, lol

97. Easiest character to draw? The ones with boring simple hair, lol. Lightning gets an honorable mention for ALSO not having eyes in most shots, but Rin wins--he was specifically designed to be easy for Katoh to draw because that's what you want in your main character

98. How do demons understand gender? They just possess whatever feels like the best match to how they feel in Gehenna, whether that's a man, or a woman, or a rat, or whatever

99. Where do you start when you're coming up with a story? She starts with character design and how the characters relate to each other. Currently she's just continuing an existing story, so she works on splitting up the overall plot into episodes and fleshing it out with scenes and information about characters

100. When do you feel most happy? She honestly feels like she lives a very happy life overall. Mentions noticing a lot of little things, like how nice her cats' heads smell when she cuddles them or taking a nice cold refreshing drink of water. There's happiness in everything. aww.

#blue exorcist #interview #Ao no Exorcist #translation

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jisungscaramel · 4 years

Text

can i | changbin

❀ genre: smut, college au ❀ pairing: changbin x reader (fem) ❀ word count: 1.5k

[warning] explicit sexual content, oral (fem receiving), public sex, bathroom sex, alcohol consumption

“Can I kiss you”

Holy fuck, let’s rewind a bit… okay, more than “a bit”:

“Little, you have to come to my party this time,” the way your fraternity big, Chan, hit you with that ‘uwu’ face had you questioning who the older one in this line was.

Nevertheless, you assured him, “Lol big, I’ll be there. How many times do I have to say it?”

“Well,” he crossed his arms, “seeing how you always say you’re gonna come and then flake, you’ll need to keep saying it ‘til you’re literally at my place.”

“Okay fine, how about this? If I don’t come, I’ll treat you to sushi.”

Chan snickered, “well RIP to your bank account…”

But when the time came several hours later, you were at Chan’s doorstep as promised, dressed casually… which, for you, meant a half-beat with lashes, shorts, a cropped hoodie, and hoops.

“Little! You’re here!” he was practically speaking in all caps, constricting you in a classic bone crushing hug… yep he was definitely drunk, and no, it wasn’t his actions that gave it away, it was the apparent smell of lychee soju and yakult.

For most of the night, things were practically the way you expected it to be: you drank, you danced, you hung out with friends, you made some new friends… but then something caught your eye, or rather, someone.

The sound of clipped laughter carried through the kitchen despite the oscillating chatter and the constant booming music. You couldn’t help but scan the room to see where the source was, and your gaze froze once you did.

He was unfamiliar to you, but that was the least of things that had you intrigued.

His dark hair was neatly cut on the sides, revealing the thick gunmetal hoops adorning his ears. His bangs almost completely curtained his eyebrows, drawing more attention to the gorgeous details of his eyes. His outfit was… simple - a white t-shirt, ripped black jeans, Adidas originals, and a gunmetal chain to match his hoops - but it managed to complement his body so well. You didn't even want to get started on how stunning his honey skin looked embellished with black ink.

It didn’t even occur to you that you were staring that intently until he looked up and locked eyes with you. It’s hard to explain the sensation that took you over in that moment.

Butterflies? Nervousness? Desire? It was everything, honestly. The medley of sensation stirred your heart.

How long would you be stuck in that moment with him? Well, you didn’t get to find out, because seconds later, your friends reeled in your escaping focus.

Only a few minutes later, Chan came up to you. “Little!”

“Yeah?”

He placed a hand on your shoulder and gestured to the other end of the kitchen. “See that guy over there with the tattoos in the white shirt?”

“Mmm yeah, what about him?”

“He’s really cool; his name is Changbin, he’s an exchange student from Korea and he’s thinking about rushing Sigma…”

“And?” You didn’t mean it in a standoffish manner or anything like that. You were genuinely curious since you figured Chan had something specific to tell you about this “Changbin,” seeing as he came up to you just to talk to you about him.

“Okay, well he told me he thinks you’re really pretty but he’s only been here for a week and he’s nervous about approaching you…”

“Oh I’m definitely down… don’t worry about it though, I’ll handle it… somehow.”

You slipped away from Chan to go to the bathroom.

‘Alright, looks like the lashes are still in place,’ you took a final moment to fix your hair before opening the door to exit, and you involuntarily jerked your head back a bit, not expecting someone to be standing at the door.

He looked just as surprised as you did, eye widening while he lowered the fist he was about to knock the door with.

It was him.

You visibly relaxed. “Uh.. hi(?)” Okay, never mind, you still felt a bit awkward.

“Hey…” he said, facial expression morphing to become more serious, more deliberate, as if he was determined. Determined to do what, though?

You didn’t want to assume anything about how this would play out, but of course, the universe had to work in mysterious ways.

The unidentified tension hanging in the air thickened into something more tangible, more stifling. It was probably only a few seconds, but it felt much longer - his eye contact definitely had more of an effect on you from the reduced distance.

‘God damn, he’s stunning.’

His left hand steadied on the door frame while the other reached behind you, hovering over the small of your back. The sporadic taps of his fingers on your bare skin made your nerves tingle, sending waves up your spine… and down.

He carefully leaned in, lips almost touching your ear, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah…”

And without missing a beat, his lips were on yours. His hand pressed firmly against your back, crashing your body onto his. He guided you further into the bathroom so he could close the door with his free hand - and lock it.

You reached up, wrapping your arms around his neck, and his hands dipped down to your thighs, lifting you to the bathroom counter. His grip remained on the back of your knees, thumbs massaging circles into your thighs.

You could feel the increasing pressure of the pulse in your core, and the subtle grind of his hips on you catalyzed it.

You gasped when his lips pulled away from yours. Any disappointment you felt from the loss of contact disappeared when his lips latched onto your neck. His tongue probed your skin through the gentle kisses before latching onto a particular sensitive area below your jugular.

The way he was sucking and biting that spot had you gripping his hair and moaning into his ear. He chuckled softly against your skin, only further exciting your nerves.

He started trailing down to your collarbones, fingers toying with the hem of your sweatshirt to give him proper access to them. “Can I take this off?”

You responded wordlessly by methodically pulling the top over your head, wedging it between your back and the mirror.

It seemed like he wanted to take his time at first, slowly massaging your breasts under your bra, peppering more kisses on your exposed skin, but as his lips moved lower and lower down your abdomen, he seemed to be in a rush - kisses becoming hasty and sloppy.

You leaned back, head touching the glass of the mirror, to give him better access to your body. As he kissed below your navel, his fingers tugged at the button of your jean shorts.

He gazed up at you with a look of sinful innocence. “Can I…?” His hand cupped your pussy over the thick fabric.

“Yes,” you gasped, involuntarily grinding against his hand.

He smirked.

He brought his teeth to the button and flicked it open, pulling the zipper done in the same fashion. You propped your body a little, and in seconds, your shorts and underwear were falling onto the bathroom rug.

Now he was on his knees, prompting you to open your legs further for him with a gentle press on your inner thighs.

He licked his lips at the sight of your dripping desire, dipping his head down while staring into your soul with outpouring lust; his expression alone was enough to send electricity through your body, and he kept that eye contact locked as he pressed the flat of his tongue on your clit.

He slowly added more pressure.

You whined and snapped your hips on him. His tongue started working on your clit, moving it from side to side, up and down, and everything in between. Then without warning, he french kissed it, taking your juices in with an exaggerated swallow.

His eyes rolled back for a second, “So sweet.”

He alternated between kitten licks and little flicks, progressively slowing his pace. Then he ran it back in reverse, adding his fingers to the mix of stimulation.

The orgasm that was already building in you only amplified. You didn’t even bother to hide the melody of your pleasure - surely no one outside would hear you over the loud music.

His tongue stopped moving for an instant.

“Come for me, baby,” his words reverberated through your core.

That was all it took to send you over. “Fuck, Changbin.” The wave of your orgasm poured over his lips and he drank you down, taking it all in.

When he stood back up, he sweetly kissed you, remnants of you on his lips.

He pulled away and licked his coated fingers, playfully grinning at you. “How did you know my name?” He shifted over to the sink to rinse his face.

“Um…” You got down from the counter to pick up your clothes, “Chan may have told me earlier…”

He looked up at you through the mirror, smirk widening. “I see… do you wanna get outta here?”

“Depends… do you have a single?”

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

A/N Binnie has really been coming for my soul as of late >_<

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