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beaker1636 · 8 months

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A Love Reunited - Ricky Smut/Fluff

A/N: I don’t know why my mind went towards a sappy fluffy cute smut but it did so hopefully you enjoy this anon! I didn’t edit this so they’re maybe some typos, also I upload via mobile so if the formatting is ever off I am sorry! Enjoy!

Edit: for some reason tumblr won’t let me add the imagine below the photo so it’s all wonky. Sorry!

Sighing you clock out at work and make your way out the door, extra glad it is finally the weekend after a long week, but also a little disappointed to be making your way home to your apartment alone. Your boyfriend Ricky is away on tour and unfortunately there is still about a week left before he can be home.

You decide to send him a quick message before you start the drive home, letting him know that you are thinking of him and miss him.

When you pull into your driveway you notice that you have a message so you take your phone out as you walk towards your front door.

“Good thing we got home early then,” you read.

You quickly unlock your front door when you got the message, looking up to immediately gasp. Wasting no time you make your way to where he sits on your couch, sit down on his lap facing him and bury your face in his neck. His arms snake around you, holding you to him tightly as you both sit there in the silence for a couple minutes to embrace and take comfort in being together again.

“Something came up and the tour ended a week early, so I decided to surprise you after work today,” he says softly in your ear, not wanting to let go of you as the two months you were apart has taken a toll on not just you but him as well.

“I missed you so much,” you mumble, trying not to embarrass yourself by happy crying.

The timer in the oven goes off, forcing you to separate from eachother.

“Go sit at the table, I will have dinner out for us in a minute,” he says kissing your forehead as he slips by you and into your kitchen.

You make your way to the dining room table ad smile when you see that there is a beautiful bouquet of flowers itting on it, and candles are lit around the room giving a romantic feel towards the meal, which melts your heart at the effort that he made to do something for you despite the fact you know he must be tired from the tour.

Rick comes out with your plates and then heads back into the kitchen to grab you both a couple of glasses of wine before he takes a seat next to you at the table.

“You didn’t have to do all of this for me, I know you must be exhausted after such a long tour,” you say as you start to eat the wonderful meal that he has cooked.

“I wanted to do something nice for you when I got back because this was the first tour we’ve been through together and I know it is a lot for you as well. I figured we have a nice at home date tonight and then we can spend the weekend being lazy and lying around together. After your week you probably need it too,” he responds back, reaching over to lightly squeeze your thigh under the table.

The two of you continue to eat, Rick telling you all about the fun and weird moments of the tour. Most of this he has already told you during your facetime chats but you still gladly listen to him as its been so long since you have heard him talk in person.

When you both finish eating you move closer to him so that you can give him a kiss, giggling when he pulls you out of your chair and onto his lap, not expecting the sudden playful moment.

“I’m so glad you are home, I missed you so much. I know you would never do anything but just knowing you meet so many fans makes me anxious, you never know what they could do or if you would meet someone better,” you admit shyly as you start to lightly play with his hair, loving the silky feel of it in your hands.

“Baby, listen to me. I don’t want anyone else. Noone comes close to you or how I feel about you,” he brushes your cheek with his thumb, which makes you look at him and making eye contact.

He leans down to gently kiss you again, but this time feels a lot different than any the two of you have ever shared with eachother. You can’t place why but you don’t question it, quickly giving in to the feeling and losing all sense of what is happening around you.

You can feel him smile in the kiss which makes you smile as well. Lightly Rick tugs on your lip with his teeth, your tongues lazily meeting. You can’t help but love how soft and gentle everything is right now. These slow sweet moments together are rare and you haven’t been able to have on in awhile.

His hands trail down your sides before landing on our ass and resting there for a moment before he pulls his lips away from yours just slightly.

“Why don’t we move this to our bed? You can show me how much you missed me,” he whispers, his breath ghosts across your lips making you shudder.

Rather than answering you get up off his lap and grab his hand, leading him out of the dining room and to your bedroom.

Both of you lay down on your sides facing eachother, lips quickly colliding with eachothers again only this time is more heated, both of you getting needy for contact that you have been missing.

One of his hands is resting on your hip as the other is in your hair, holding you closely to him. Slowly he pushs on you, letting you know that he wants you to lay down on your back which you happily do.

His hands teasingly rub the skin of your stomach which is now exposed from your shirt riding up slightly. Trailing his hands softly up your torso until they make their way back down towards the hem of your shirt, which he grabs and slides off of you, your bra quickly going with it while you blush.

The two of you have only been together like this a handful of times before he had to leave for the tour, so despite wanting it you still can’t help but feel shy when he looks at your body.

He gives you another quick soft kiss that is over before you can register that it had begun before they lightly start to ghost from your ear down to your throat. At the same time one of his hands moves to cup a breast, lightly kneading it before starting to roll your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Even after all this time he still takes satisfaction in teasing you.

He know that he finds your sensitive spot on your throat when you gasp and tilt your head allowing him more access to continue leaving marks along the path, because you know that he has to be at that point.

Reaching inbetween the both of you you decide to unbutton his jeans, sliding them down slightly along with his boxers.

He adjusts so that he can kick his them off the rest of the way before his lips slowly start to trail down your chest, continuing to leave marks as you reach down to slowly stroke him, wanting to drive him crazy and tease him as much as he was doing to you. You know you succeeded when he lets out a barely audible groan which makes you giggle.

His lips wrap around one of your nipples, making you gasp and shift at the sensitive feeling, your jeans feeling a bit too constricting now.

He notices you shift and moves to unbutton them, pulling away from you slightly so that you can lift your hip, allowing him to remove them as well as your panties in one quick motion before sitting at your side. He reaches over you so that he can rub your clit but you grab his wrist and stop him.

“No, I-I just want to feel you tonight, please?” you beg, craving the closeness and the connection that you have been lacking out on with him.

His shifts so that he is leaning over the top of you again, his lips finding yours gently as he teases you slightly with the tip against your clit. When you give him an annoyed grunt he finally gives in and slips inside of you, both of you letting out a groan at the sudden feeling of pleasure that is coursing through you.

Hi thrusts get a little bit harder as he goes but he doesn’t get anywhere near as rough with you as he always has in the past. He wants to savor this moment with you and enjoy this feeling. He also feels the change between this act and the other times the two of you have been together.

Pulling away he locks his eyes with you as his hands find their way to your waist, flipping the two of you so that you are now on top.

“Ride me baby, fuck just like that,” he groans as you begin to rock your hips against his, you being inpatient and going a bit quicker than he was when he was on top and leading the two of you.

Knowing that he won’t last long himself after not getting any for a few month he reaches between the two of you, starting to toy with your clit which makes you look away from him, arching your back at the level it adds to everything.

He can feel you starting to clench around him, hear you letting out breathy moans that let him know that you are getting quick and when you do cum rather abruptly he is right behind you, spilling inside of you a couple seconds later.

When you come down you share a couple lazy kisses before you finally pull yourself off him and go to your bathroom to quickly clean yourself up.

When you return you quickly put your pajamas on, and notice that he has slipped into his boxers and is laying on your bed waiting for you to join him. You do so, laying your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around him while he begins to lightly run a hand along your back. Both of you sit there quietly, processing what has changed between the two of you but not wanting to be the one to break the silence.

A few moments later Rick decides to be the one to break it, “Being away from you like this for so long made me realize something… well that and one of Chris’ weird peptalks helped me figure it out too,” Rick says softly, still rubbing your back softly.

You move so that you are looking up at him,” Hmm?” you ask.

“This is probably not the best time to say it, and totally is not what I planned to do but I want to say it. I love you, more than that I’m in love with you. I’ve never mised someone so much while gone, or worried about a girlfriend like this,” he slowly stops talking when he realises he is rambling.

“Rick, I love you too. I just was too nervous to say it and freaked out thinking it would freak you out saying it only four months into our relations,” you admit and then before giving him a second kiss lightly.

Suddenly realization hits you and you pull away with a weird look on your face.

“Wait, you confided in this with my brother before you did me? No wonder he has been really weird lately when we’ve talked and asking how things are going with you,” you say giggling slightly.

You lay back down, curling up in his side again, content to just stay like that the rest of the night.

“He confronted me about it, I will explain later, lets just go to bed,” he says, sounding annoyed.

You decide to just let the subject go but totally plan to ask him about it in the morning curious on what that could have meant.

The two of you continue to catch up on everything you haven’t had a chance to with one another before you finally start to fall asleep, feeling loved and cared for, more content in your relationship than ever.

#motionless in white #vinny mauro #motionless in white imagine #ryan sitkowski #chris motionless #ricky olson #justin morrow #fanfiction #ricky olson imagine #ricky horror imagine #ricky olson fic #ricky olson x reader #ricky olson smut #bree sucks at fanfiction

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silent-sanctum · 2 years

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✧ Polaris ✧ - Jotaro x Reader

PART I. Bento Boxes

Disclaimer: This is my first time writing a self-insert fic on Tumblr so if the formatting is slightly wonky I'm sorry (._.), but rest assured i tried my best ♥

cw: afab! reader, reader is a stand user, fluff, sfw

Word count: 8148

Taking place prior to the events of SC, you're a foreign transfer student taking up high school in Japan, and while still trying to overcome the lingering culture shock, you meet a delinquent that doesn't quite meet your expectations.

When you first saw him, you had thought his eyes were that of the ocean, with depths so deep that are yet to be discovered underneath the shimmering surface.

When he first saw you, he had thought your eyes were that of the night sky devoid of clouds, bearing witness to the galaxy of stars twinkling within.

Both of you had thought the other’s eyes held a world of their own, waiting for the time they would collide at the horizon that would eventually form a safe haven made for the 2 of you.

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Ever since moving to Tokyo 3 years ago, you got accustomed to the culture fairly easy given how similar it was from where you came from. The language was a bit tricky to learn considering you had to familiarize 3 sets of Japanese alphabets. You found the streets quite lovely, peaceful, and comfortable to be in for the long run, though you can’t help but miss the exciting lifestyle and nightlife of your home city.

However, the crowds were something you had yet to get more used to.

You weren’t sure if it was just the lingering homesickness or plain overthinking, but living in a society so reserved and collected made you realize how direct and upfront your fellow brethren were just like you were to them. All in good spirits, of course.

Maybe that was why you found this specific teenager so appealing.

It was the start of the 1st week of school and you had to walk a fair distance to reach your destination. You had passed by some of your batchmates, recognizing them by the plum sailor-like uniforms. Though you went to the same school, your uniform was customized to resemble those belonging in a country like England- plum blazer with a white blouse underneath and a red bow to match.

You had no idea how you managed to persuade the higher-ups, but it worked and you did it.

At the same time, the girls you just walked past suddenly rushed ahead of you, squealing to no ends at a newcomer you just noticed passing by a corner to join the walk on the main road to school. “JoJo” was what they called him in their overtly sweet tones.

The first thought you had about him from behind was that he’s giant as fuck compared to the girls around him. Though, you could tell he was in high school from the gakuran he wore (customized too with the large golden chain dangling from the collar and the ripped hat that oddly blended well with his hair).

He’s a foreigner or half probably… or maybe it’s just genetics on steroids, who knows?

You didn’t want to involve yourself in the swarm of females so you made sure to distance yourself a bit, walking ahead of them but just enough for you to throw a glance at the school’s heartthrob.

And suddenly your cheeks were warm. Not to be them but holy shit, I can see why they’re barking up this tree of a man now. From the front, you could take in his strong jaw, the toned build underneath his faded green shirt and black school jacket, the 2 tessellated triangle-patterned belts, the obvious unamused expression, and the blue-green eyes hidden underneath the tip of his hat.

Those eyes. He seems familiar for some reason.

Déjà vu aside, your mind immediately went to “bad boy” if his demeanor was to be taken into consideration. You still had to judge his character to complete your tiny hypothesis, but you had a feeling he isn’t the type to entertain anyone at the moment.

You shrugged your curiosities away and looked straight ahead, dismissing the crowd behind you, though once their squabbling grew a tad bit too loud for comfort-

“Shut up! All of you are so damn annoying!”

The deep booming voice earned itself a double take, turning to look over your shoulder to see the delinquent gritting his teeth as he shrugged off the persistent females and set a faster pace in his walk. You quickly stepped aside to make room for the other to pass, looking away for extra measure.

Talk about bold and direct. From your peripherals, you could see a glimpse of him slowing for a second to spare a look at you before turning away a second later, resuming his regular pace.

All you had as a response to what had happened were raised brows and a smile of delightful disbelief. “That’s a first.”

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Class flew by with no issue and it was about time to eat.

Looking for a perfect spot to eat lunch should not be this complicated and yet here you are- one hand holding a nicely wrapped bento box you bought from a bento shop near your apartment, and the other tucked underneath your chin, contemplating the ideal location for your daily lunching.

You could always eat in the comforts of your seat, but there was something off-putting in a room with fellow classmates chatting away while eating. It wasn’t that you hated them talking or the possibility of them finding you and including you in their social circle; in fact, you’d love to chat with others with no problem, your Japanese did improve over the years… just not during mealtime.

Same thoughts came through when the cafeteria was brought up in mind, coupled with the added hassle of too much people crowding the place and the noise that came with it. You just wanted to dine in peace. Well, that’s out of the picture.

There was the choice of eating outside… maybe underneath a tree? You sighed. Then again, people are passing by and eating in a sort-of-public area is just not it.

You almost considered giving up and just resorting to the first thought you had, but one more location flickered in your head. Your feet moved on its own and led you up some flight of stairs until you came across a metal door leading you to the school’s open rooftop.

It was cliché, you knew that much, but there was a reason why it became such a recurring spot for many high schoolers.

Immediately, the gentle breeze kissed your face upon entry, lightly blowing loose strands of your hair that made you clip them behind your ear. A satisfied smile grew on your face. “Ahh just as expected.” The place was spacious, surrounded by a fence for safety measures, with a couple of discarded desks and chairs by the wall beside the door, and the resident bad boy smoking on one side of the area.

Wait.

Your eyes raked in the figure sitting by the fence just to make sure you weren’t mistaking him for someone else, but with yet another double take, you could confirm that it was the same teenager.

With the way his body was angled away from the door, it was either he noticed you enter before you did or he braced the arrival of someone that wasn’t necessarily you, like a fangirl of his or a faculty member.

Despite this, you gave a curt and casual bow with a quiet “hello” (with an initial stutter as you switched the language before it slipped out of your mouth by habit). Expectedly, you received nothing but a faint smell of smoke wafting past your nose.

Okay then. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not here to harass you with flowery letters or sweets.” You approached the fenced ledge and sat a comfortable 6 meters away from the other individual. “I’m just here to eat in peace. Okay?”

No answer. “Alright!” You snapped your fingers and turned your attention to your lunch box and began to dig into the meat and veggies inside.

Minutes passed in silence and only when you were halfway finished with your food did you realize that the other did not consume anything. “Yah,” you said. “Did you eat? You’ve been smoking for some time now and didn’t touch anything edible.”

“…Why do you care?” He replied without looking at you, voice gruff as he exhaled a puff of smoke.

You cleared your throat. “I’m just pointing out an observation and then making a question out of that, doesn’t necessarily mean I ‘care’- “

“Tch,” he said. “Mind your business bitch.”

You stared at him with wide eyes and a raised brow. Excuse me? Hello? The countrymen of your place liked to blurt out profanities out in the air like it’s nothing, and you had gotten used to it to the point you took the insult as nothing.

Hearing it from a Japanese (or half) was the second surprise you received from him. Anyone who would’ve heard this would genuinely be appalled at the usage of the word, but to you, it was a breath of fresh air.

Without even thinking too much about it, your hand was on your chest in a fake insulted manner and simply spoke back with a small curl of your lip. “Unnecessary but thank you.”

For the first time within the hour, he turned his head to look at you with furrowed brows, most likely not expecting that type of reply. “That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Oh, I know. It’s just your manners of addressing women is very… how do I say this… colorful,” you replied back, smiling. “It’s my first time hearing such vulgarness in a while so thank you~”

The delinquent didn’t seem to have the words to counter what you just said and for a while, you both stared at each other in another round of silence. He clicked his tongue again and mumbled a quiet yet audible “good grief” before turning away with one last charming remark.

“Weird bitch.”

You scoffed, snarking back with a sweet overtone. “Rude asshole~”

In perfect timing, the bell rang by the time you neatly packed up your emptied lunch box. You sighed and stood, smoothing your skirt before turning to the other. “I know you’re aware but the bell rang just now and we still have class,” you said casually, as if you 2 hadn’t shared insults a few seconds ago.

“I’m heading off now. See you~” You singsonged your farewell greetings, earning you your second “tch” for the day.

Once you had your back turned to him, you couldn’t help but feel a genuine smile grow on your face, the familiar warmness returning to your cheeks. You cocked your head.

“Ah this guy��”

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Once the door clicked shut, he angled himself back into the position he was in prior to your arrival- back facing the fence, arms crossed, and one leg crossed over the other. He tipped his hat over his face, scowling the moment he found your mutual insults… amusing.

In all honesty, he didn’t expect his rooftop guest, nor any girl in this school in general, to be like this.

He was all but ready to bark a firm “get out” the moment the door opened minutes ago, but as he caught sight of your long locks, shining eyes, and unique uniform, his words got caught in his throat and ended up not saying anything. Instead, he turned away before you had noticed him.

He didn’t know why his voice decided to betray him when it hadn’t failed him in yelling at every persistent female on school grounds. Was it because you were the only one who wasn’t falling head-over-heels for him on the walk to school? Because you actually had the decency to respect his space?

Whatever it was, he appreciated it and maybe that was why.

He heard your soft voice clarifying your intentions of being here and remained silent a bit further, irritated with himself that he’s holding his aggressiveness back for you. It was only when you started to question whether he ate or not (which he did and hid the bento his mother lovingly made for him after), did his attitude return.

And when you showed a piece of your own attitude back to him, he was… taken aback. The usual response his admirers would show in response to his bluntness was the typical and annoyingly high-pitched “kya’s”. This was a first for him and a silence grew between you as a result of this. Refusing to back down from your unbothered expression, he muttered out a “good grief” before spitting out “bitch” one more time, thinking maybe another attempt would get under your nerves.

Though when you said “rude asshole” in return, he physically had to will himself not to curl his lip from the unexpected liking he had from the brief first meeting banter he and you had.

The time you left, leaving him by himself on the rooftop, he took one last drag of his cigarette and sighed, dropping the stick onto the floor shortly after and crushing the butt with the heel of his shoe.

“Good grief that woman…”

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Ever since that first day, you decided that lunch at the rooftop with the school’s infamous bad boy would be the routine you’d follow from now on.

You’d walk up the stairs, greet the early smoking bird by the fence with the enthusiasm of a grown puppy, and began eating at the same spot near him, uncaring of his disinterest in you. As usual, not once did the teenager paid any attention to your presence and found the sky more appealing.

Eventually as a couple more of days had passed, you could feel the initial tension fade away into a mutual air of ease between you two, as if both of you had gotten used to each other’s presence despite the lack of proper conversation and vulgar exchange you two did often the second you talked to him.

“Don’t mind me. I’m just gonna start venting out some feelings.”

“Whatever bitch.”

“I’ll take that as an okay then asshole.”

The new vibe between the 2 of you granted you the privilege of speaking your thoughts out into the world to release some stress you kept bottled in little by little. What you talked about? Almost anything. From something you found while window shopping in Shinjuku, to your change in food and music preferences, even to the minute details about what had happened to your rice cooker.

Your rooftop acquaintance had looked at you with a mix of genuine irritation and confusion, probably wondering how and why you became so chatty around him all of a sudden. “Why the fuck are you so noisy these days?”

“Oh, am I now? Don’t worry!” You hovered a finger over your smiling lips. “I can lower my voice to your preferred volume and- get this… curate what the topics I want to talk about. Just think of me like a radio, choose a station to your liking and I’ll broadcast whatever you want to hear.”

“Unplug yourself then.”

“Sorry, I have built in batteries that last a good while.”

“Remove the batteries.”

“Nope. Sorry. The screws been tightly shut. Almost like it was glued close apparently.”

“Good grief.”

Even if it didn’t seem like it, you could notice a tiny shift in his demeanor as more time passed and a couple more bento boxes have been emptied.

It was those small details that one could overlook if not paid closely- the way his body slowly angled toward you despite his attention remaining elsewhere, the split-second curl of his lip every time you called him an ass, the corner of a box peeking out from behind his shoes that implied he does eat lunch (with the bonus of a faint hint of pink on his cheeks once you brought it up), the subtle reactions he made to each of your stories such as a silent scoff and a brief shake of his head, and some other tidbits you were able to pick up on.

The more you just allowed yourself to vent freely, the more you got to observe more who this guy was in a way that wasn’t forced, stiff, or uncomfortable. It was strange how that worked but you didn’t complain about it. Quite the contrary actually.

Few more days in and you were comfortable enough to pause your daily venting and instead ask the delinquent questions about himself, to which was responded with his typical vocabulary of “not your business”, “shut up”, and the ever-present suffix that was “bitch.”

You shrugged. He’ll cave in eventually.

All these lunch periods of you verbally expressing yourself and attempting him to answer your queries had made you realize… Oh my god, I still don’t know his name. You were so contented in calling him “asshole” that an actual name didn’t even pop into mind.

Though it does provide a good starting point for the question-and-answer segments you had with him.

Come next day and you just finished your lunch, you turned to him with a hand cupping your cheek as you pouted. “Listen, I know you keep this silent brooding face up so well to the point you compliment me with ‘bitch’ every time I ask about you, but at the very least can I know what your name is?”

The delinquent regarded the request for a moment, staring at you for a solid minute with a cig between his thumb and forefinger, deeply contemplating whether to answer or not. You hoped he would.

And that he did.

“… Jotaro.”

Your eyes widened and you couldn’t help but let out a tiny gasp, a hand coming to hover over your mouth to hide your smile of success. The fact he actually answered properly for once and that you finally knew what to call him by aside from “asshole” …

He cocked a brow and glared at you. “Is knowing my name that amusing to you?”

“Given your silent nature, I’d take any answer from you a win for me,” you smiled. “Jotaro-ssi~”

“Hm?”

“San! I mean Jotaro-san!” You cupped your mouth, heat flooding your cheeks. “Sorry, force of habit. A roll of the tongue, you know?” Oh my god, you get to know him for the first time and you immediately slip-up. Get your head in the game!

Though he couldn’t care less about your tiny mistake as he looked away with a huff, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Whatever.” A prolonged pause hung in the air before he continued, “Well?”

You stared at him with question in your eyes. “Hm? Well what?”

He scowled, crossing his arms. “I’m telling you my name and you’re not telling yours?”

“A-Ah! Right!” You let out a nervous chuckle. Great job me. Your second mistake within the minute. Totally fine. “I’m Y/N.” You bowed your head lightly. “Nice to meet you… though this phrase is way overdue for it to be used in this context.”

With the mention of your name, Jotaro merely nodded his head and turned away to continue smoking. You were left sitting there, half-drowning in your embarrassment. A tiny part of you had been hoping he would repeat your name at least once. It definitely did not wilt in slight disappointment when it didn’t happen. Nope.

Though it seemed insignificant from a social standard, getting to know more about Jotaro was something you were hellbent on achieving. You didn’t know exactly why since learning who was who wasn’t so much as a big deal for you. You regularly made friends and getting their names wasn’t anything major.

Was it that feeling of gratification that someone who would vehemently push others away in a second, was able to tolerate you for quite some time now? That you were able to keep his rude nature at bay when others couldn’t?

Don’t get yourself wrong, he was still rude to you as if the name calling and his ever-present aloofness wasn’t already obvious, but compared to the rest, it was tamer.

You were smug about that idea and pushing through with your interest in the delinquent, continued your days with the silent individual.

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As much as he hated admitting it to himself, Jotaro didn’t mind having you around.

If anything, his usual boring of an hour break became anything but that. You’d pop your head through the door with a huge smile and a wave, you’d sit close to him with the comfortable space intact between the two of you, and start eating.

At some point, even if he knew you didn’t mind it, he wondered if he should do something to replace the silence. Of course, he could always leave under the excuse of a lie like he did multiple times before, but the image of you sitting alone in the roof after the selfish move stirred up an ugly feeling in him. As if he couldn’t bear seeing you upset.

Damnit. Can’t even fucking follow my own protocols.

Or maybe he could… ask questions just for the sake that anything remotely interactive is happening between the two. Start conversations? The fuck- Since when were you good at that Kujo?

Though once you started to spout your life stories out in the open one day, the heavy weight of being expected to initiate communication lifted off of Jotaro’s shoulders. He remained nonchalant to your stories, but he was relieved that at least some excuse of a conversation was happening.

And he was somewhat flattered that you could share that much information about yourself to someone like him out of the blue. People don’t usually hand out details about their life to strangers. With you being able to do so with him, it implied he wasn’t just a reoccurring random bad boy to you.

But to make sure, he had to hear a verbal confirmation from you. He asked in the way he could and you answered with your typical snark and annoying cheeky smile.

He swore he was doing the most just to hold the urge to smile in return.

Of course, Jotaro couldn’t tell you that he was glad you made his day-to-day a bit interesting and found his presence comfortable to be with.

Instead, while you talked, he made sure to listen to everything you said even if his posture said otherwise- he noted that a human-sized plush bear caught your attention at Shinjuku, how you preferred chicken and R&B nowadays, and even how your rice cooker broke because you attempted to cook something else that wasn’t rice.

Unknowing to him, his body started to turn to you little by little with the intent of listening to you better, his lips would betray him every time you insulted him, and because of the slight change of position, you had caught sight of his emptied bento box. He’d hidden his face with the tip of his hat as a result:

“Oh! So, you do eat before you smoke!”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just glad you’re getting your daily meals and not just nicotine 24/7.”

“I said shut up bitch.”

When you asked questions that were about himself, Jotaro didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his past or current life (though it does look like it to those who see him), he just tended to overthink in a situation of casual, friendly talk that didn’t have any sort of threat, malice, or declarations of love laced with it.

Not much happened to me.

There’s nothing much to talk about aside from my appearance.

Shit. Am I this bad at talking to normal people?

As a result, he refused to answer your probing questions with his go-to phrases that remained meaningless when it came to you.

Once you wanted to know his name, his mind blanked for one second. A fairly simple request that didn’t need any thinking. Honestly, he’s surprised you hadn’t known his identity from the many discussions his admirers and the faculty staff had the past few weeks.

Though at second thought, you couldn’t have known it from them since they likely only ever addressed him as “JoJo” and “Kujo” respectively.

Hence, as Jotaro looked into your expectant eyes and pouty lip, he replied to you with his name. Simple and straightforward.

And you physically beamed- eyes sparkling and lips opening behind your hand to let out a small gasp of surprise. He raised his brow and glared at your exaggerated reaction out of sheer confusion. For a second, he thought you found his name funny and was ready to bark back with his usual vulgarness, but once you explained it was because he simply answered normally, he eased up.

However, when the unfamiliar honorific slipped next to his name added with the fact that it was habitual, he caught onto the error the second it was uttered. Together with your upfront personality, he couldn’t help but be more curious about you. And that included knowing your name.

When you didn’t catch the hint, he forced himself to ask for your name. Damnit, why’d you have to wait for me to ask woman?

“I’m Y/N,” you had said, bowing lightly. “Nice to meet you… though this phrase is way overdue for it to be used in this context.”

Y/N. Finally, a name he can call you by if he felt “nice”. Y/N. Jotaro nodded in return, turning away with a cig in-between his teeth to focus on compiling all his mental notes about you, now with your name added among the mix. Y/N. It was nice that it’s simple. Spared him the hassle of pronouncing your name properly.

He breathed in and let out one heavy sigh, leaning back against the fence with his arms behind his head. Admittedly, he couldn’t wait for more of your chatter and maybe he’d be prepared to talk and answer some questions you had for him.

He closed his eyes and your name constantly went on repeat in his mind.

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“Oi, you planning on starving today?”

“Aish.” You threw your empty hands in the air with mild frustration, shutting the door behind you with a gentle kick. You were 30 minutes late for the day and it was all due to your not-so minor morning inconvenience messing with your mood. “Not my fault the nearby shop was closed for the day. Granted, it’s not the first time but- ugh, an advanced notice would’ve been nice.”

“If you’re gonna whine about the inconvenience, then cook lunch yourself idiot.”

“I’ll have you know that I’d love to do that if I had the time to shop for quality ingredients.”

You’d always wanted to make a do-it-yourself lunch box with its contents coming straight from your home city’s signature recipes, but unfortunately you lived in an apartment that was far from a decent grocery and upon asking the locals about it, learned that the nearest location was at least 2 kilometers away. Oh, to have the luxury of having a driver’s license and a car right now.

Jotaro eyed at you for a few more solid seconds before directing his attention elsewhere. Even without the delicacy of shop-bought food, that didn’t stop you from visiting the rooftop to meet with the raven-haired delinquent. The mostly one-sided conversations were far more important than eating anyway.

You made a move to dust your skirt and took a seat at your usual spot, sitting with a crossed leg and your hands interlinked over your knee. With a hefty, acceptance-of-defeat sigh, you said, “I’m gonna tell you something really, really crazy, okay?”

He scoffed. “You tell crazy shit all the time. Why’s this any different?”

“You see, I’ve been venting about all about actual factual stuff in the real world, you know? Some technical issues here, an interesting fun detail about places there, and crap like that, but I’m gonna delve into some… supernatural territory here.”

No response.

“You’re going to judge anyways so I’ll just say it,” you took in a deep breath and continued. “I may have a ghost friend following me around-“ Your words halted mid-sentence when Jotaro’s attention went to you in almost an instant, those cerulean eyes of his suddenly piercing yours. “Hey listen, let me explain!”

“This ghost friend… she’s like this spooky hovering lady with a flowing dress, no legs, and a veil covering her head, and she’s been following me ever since I was a kid. Strangely though, she doesn’t harm me. She shields me,” you said, wringing your fingers together as you tried not to delve too deep into your memories. “She’s sort of a human spirit security blanket… if that’s a thing.”

“She hasn’t visited me in a while, so her just popping out of nowhere really caught me off guard and I’m afraid she’s gonna be hovering around yet again I assume.”

You’ve never opened her up to anyone, not even to your welcoming uncle who’d become your foster father for the past few years. You always thought of her as your secret imaginary friend who manifested to comfort you during your rough childhood despite her ominous look.

You avoided looking back at the past but you could always remember the soft fabric that wrapped around you like a blanket coming from the entity’s unraveled arm in an attempt to comfort you, and how the same fabric stretched taut in front of you countless times to block off and push the people who hurt you away.

It was only when you woke up from a familiar nightmare last night, gasping and sweating, did she make a prominent return, scanning you before wrapping your shivering frame with the fabric you were most fond off.

You thought the nightmares stopped after you moved to Japan, but with what just happened, you just hoped that it wouldn’t occur as frequent as it was back at your homeplace. As a way to cope with your newfound frustration, you decided to vent it out to your unruly acquaintance.

“Well,” you pursed your lips and shrugged. “That’s my vent of the day. The time for uncalled insults and creative phrases of what the fuckery is now open.”

“I have an evil sprit possessing me.”

You physically choked. Now… that was unexpected. “You’re telling me you have your own imaginary friend following you wherever you go?”

“Imaginary my ass. He’s an actual evil spirit that can deliver severe physical violence, and those who got to meet his fists are now in the hospital with several broken bones.”

You listened with full intent as your lips remained slightly agape at the idea and image of Jotaro’s supernatural companion beating up those who most likely crossed him. “Is he someone you can call out or-“

“I’m getting a hang of it, though the bastard acts on its own most of the time.”

“Can you call him now?” You asked, your head tilted out of curiosity. “I’d like to meet him myself so I’ll find relief that I’m not crazy after all.”

“People can’t see yours?”

“No apparently,” you sighed. “Whenever she appears to protect me, they don’t seem to react to her at all. In fact, they become super confused as to why they can’t get to me.”

“Well shit,” he cocked his head. “That makes 2 of us.”

“Ehem~” You cleared you throat, making the raven-haired student glance at you. “May I see him? I’ll call mine in return! Promise!”

You both stared at each other for a moment without the either doing anything, until Jotaro tipped his hat. “Good grief, you better not bullshit me with a fake surprised reaction.” He reached for his hidden empty bento box beside him and tossed it at you to which you caught. “Get up, walk there, and throw it at me as hard as you can.”

You arched a brow at the strange request but did what he asked, getting up to dust your skirt and walking over to the steel door with the box ready to be thrown in your grasp. The delinquent stood several meters away parallel to you with his hands in his pockets, his cigarette left forgotten on the ground.

“Just in case you cuss at me for this, I’ll have you know this was your idea!”

“Just fucking throw it.”

With no further confirmation, you took in a deep breath, held the box in one hand, and reared back into a baseball pitcher’s position. Just then, it just occurred to you that as much as you placed all your effort into it, the lunchbox won’t probably even reach Jotaro from this distance. Realistically, no teenage girl would have the arm power to do so.

But you had a plan.

A slight tingle crept up the hand that held the bento and as discreetly as possible from its position behind you, slender strips of fabric appeared and wrapped themselves around the container. “In the count of 3!” You called out. “1… 2…!” Without having to say the last number, you lurched forward and launched the box at the other with the speed of an expertly-kicked soccer ball.

At the same time the cloths withdrew back into your palm, you watched the speeding object close in toward his direction and for a second, your face readied to warp into a wince with the thought of the box smacking him square in the face.

But as the bento was a second away from doing so, a faint shimmer appeared beside the delinquent’s head and a purple, muscular arm manifested out of thin air just in time to punch the bento in a split second, reducing the box into tiny splinters raining down onto the concrete floor.

You gaped and let out a sound of awe. Well, there’s evidence to said violence. “What did you see?” Jotaro asked, tipping his hat down as he walked to you with casual gait. Involuntarily, you smiled and clapped in response.

“Oh my god! You do have a spirit companion like I do! I’m not crazy!”

“Not an answer,” he said gruffly.

“Ah yeah about that,” you cleared your throat. “To put it simply, an arm came out of nowhere and was what caused your lunchbox to devolve into tiny pieces- oh my god… you destroyed your bento!” You faux gasped in realization. “Money was spent on that!”

“So?” He stopped to stand a few meters away from you. “Have more at home.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, dubious with his choice of action. “Alright then rich boy. If you say so.”

“Your turn.”

“What do you…!” Within a split second, the same arm that demolished the food container headed straight to you in rapid speed before you could comprehend it.

Fortunately, your own spirit was as quick to respond to the attack.

A gush of wind blew strands of your hair back as a result of the impact the black-gloved fist made against the taut, rose gold fabric stretched in front of you. You stilled on the spot as a shot of adrenaline coursed through you, stunned at the sudden attempt.

From beyond the cloth, Jotaro stood there with what appeared to be a brief display of surprise. The cloth withdrew itself immediately into the back of your shoulder blades where it spawned from.

“You… you crazy fuck,” you cocked your head as a laugh of disbelief left you. “Can’t believe you just tried to punch me straight in the- do you know how fucked my face would be if my spirit didn’t shield me?!” At this point, you had every right to be thoroughly mad and yell at his face, though the delinquent remained aloof just as he always was.

Tipping the visor of his hat down, Jotaro cleared his throat. “Alright. I believe you. We both have evil spirits then.”

“Wha- are we gonna forget how you literally tried to punch me in the face?”

The sharp ring of the school bell interrupted the both of you and as much as you weren’t affected by it on a normal day, wringing out a concise apology from the couldn’t-care-less Jotaro was all that flooded your brain, and you couldn’t get that if you were in a class that he wasn’t in.

The other made a move to the door before you did, head slightly tilted down and a hand in his pocket. “Ya!” You grabbed his wrist just as he was about to turn the knob. “No sorry? I deserve one ass hat.”

“After class. Meet me at the gate.”

You blinked. After school meet-up… with Jotaro? Another first you wouldn’t expect from the school’s lone wolf. With your grip loosened, he took the opportunity to draw his arm away, open the door, and walk down the stairs.

With all that had happened for the past hour, your brain had yet to process it all- the visible ghosts, the closed bento shop, Jotaro’s smashed bento box, the thoughts of your past vaguely present in your mind, and the most recent offer of an after-school hangout.

You scoffed. Ah what an eventful lunch period.

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In all honesty, as you walked down the last flight of stairs and to the main entrance, you expected the delinquent to not be where he said he would be due to his uncaring nature.

But as you stepped outside, you could see a tall figure leaning against the gate walls with one hand holding his school bag and the other in his pocket, ignoring the handful of girls fawning over him as they pass him by. As if he sensed you coming, he glanced at you for a solid second and pushed himself off of the concrete.

“Ooh~” You remarked, mildly impressed at the commitment. “A man of his words, I see.”

Jotaro grumbled out words you couldn’t make out and with you now by his side, you two exited school grounds and made your way down the street. “Does it look like I’m the type to offer things at random?”

You hummed, your lips forming a tiny pout. “No, but you do look the type to get people’s hopes up with empty promises.”

The raven-haired teen didn’t respond immediately, though when he did, it came in the form of a scoff followed with a mumbling of “yeah right.”

5 minutes into your walk was filled with silence, neither party having nothing to share until you decided to play icebreaker as you always do in this type of scenario. “So…” You clapped your hands together once. “Mind telling me why you asked me to walk with you after school? No apologies were said so I see no other purpose of my presence here.”

“I’m going to buy some cigs.”

“Yeah? And I play into this how?” No response. An idea popped into mind and you couldn’t help but smirk a bit upon the thought of saying it. You bowed a bit with your arms behind you, turning your head to look at him beneath his hat. “You in the mood for a companion today Mr. Bad Boy?”

No one should have the balls of saying anything that was remotely taunting to Jotaro’s face, especially considering his massive hands were intimidating and looked like it lived up to violent expectations.

However, the latter’s face merely warped into a familiar scowl accompanied with the habit of tipping his hat.

You let out an airy laugh. “Okay okay, enough teasing from me. Since you’re not apologizing anytime soon, can I at least request something from you? Nothing too extreme don’t worry.” You said with your form back in an upright position. “Can I see him in entirety? His arm is quite thick and lovely and all, but a full body appearance is much appreciated.”

“You want another test run?”

“Is that a threat?” You said light heartedly, sending him a pointed look along with a finger pointed at him. “But in all seriousness, I’m really curious about your evil spirit. Plus, it’s not fair for me to give a detailed description of my spirit to you and for you to not return the favor.”

“Did not ask for it.”

“Your body did though don’t lie,” Jotaro was about to retort something in return, only for nothing to come out of his mouth. The lack of response helped spark that inner smugness in you and a smirk grew from it. “Aha. Guilty as charged.”

The delinquent looked away with a hand coming to hold the tip of his hat yet again. At closer look, you could spot a very faint red dusting his cheek. “Good grief. Just shut up bitch.”

You huffed, keeping the proud smug on your face intact even as you directed your attention back to the path ahead. “You still owe me an introduction to your spirit asshole.”

“Whatever.”

Banter through, you both found yourselves walking past few commercial buildings that included small business shops and convenience stores. Often times, when you walked past them on a regular afternoon, you were tempted to spend some money on what they offered just to quell that tiny explorer in you.

You let Jotaro walk ahead of you since it was his idea of wanting to buy a pack of cigarettes. He said nothing as he stepped into one of the stores by the street, leaving you standing by yourself outside with nothing but your wandering thoughts and school bag in hand to keep you occupied.

Several minutes passed and the sky began its transition from orange to dark blue, you found yourself squatted in the same spot as you watched the windows from the buildings around you start to light up. Your bag was put down beside you while you had your cheek in the palm of your hand, contemplating whether to leave his tardy ass in the shop.

Probably after few more minutes, you had thought that perhaps the bad boy stayed true to his role and ultimately decided to leave you first after having his lowkey wish that was a friend fulfilled. Through a back door maybe? Do convenience stores even have back doors where customers can flee to?

A groan was about to leave you as you stood, only to be interrupted at the sound of the door opening and the rustle of plastic mixed with faint clanking of what would be drink cans. You crossed your arms and stared at Jotaro who exited the way he entered. Devoid of emotion.

“That took a crap load of minutes just for you to buy a pack of cigs,” your gaze trailed down to his hands where a plastic bag hung, obviously filled with more things than just one box of health hazards. “Also, damn. Should I keep note that ‘some’ equates to ‘dozen’? Because that’s not just one pack.”

He said nothing as he dumped the whole bag into your arms, having the audacity of reaching into it to fish for the newly bought cigarette pack and-

“You drink too?!” You exclaimed, watching the other open the beer can and chugging the liquid down. “Oh my god. Remind me to pray for your lungs and liver.” He sent you a look and you shrugged. “I know… mind your business bitch.”

Emptied of its contents, he crushed the can with one hand and tossed the plastic onto a nearby trash chute. “Address.”

“Excuse?”

“Your address.”

You spluttered. “Ah just straight ahead from here. Why?”

In typical fashion, he remained wordless and picked the bag off your arms as he strode ahead in the direction of your apartment. You sighed, cocking your head. “Aish. What’s up with him and not answering questions properly?” You muttered to no one as you caught up to him in a second.

The destination wasn’t too far from the store you both stopped by at. Coming from there, it was an easy 5-minute walk. From small commercial buildings to residential homes, you two only had a couple more steps until you arrived at your apartment and call it a day.

You skipped forward, past the towering teenager (whose eyes were too busy scanning his surroundings to pay attention to you), and stood by the apartment’s entrance. “I don’t know about you, but this is where I’ll be dropping off.”

Jotaro diverted his gaze back at you.

Another few seconds of awkward silence before you cleared the air with a sigh and a clap. “Well… I may not be getting that apology at any point in time, but since you kind of accompanied me home, I’ll take that as an alternative.” You let out a genuine smile and gave him a small bow. “Thanks for that I suppose.”

The delinquent stared at you for a moment with no response, though you could make out the slight widening of his eyes while he looked at you.

You waited for a couple of seconds just in case he needed to find whatever words he could formulate in this situation, and you took this opportunity to appreciate those cerulean eyes of his and how pretty they were in contrast to his rugged appearance.

Eventually, Jotaro turned away from you, tipped his hat for the last time within the day and muttered out his signature catchphrase, all while he reached into the plastic to pocket the pack of cigarettes. You were about to tease him a little bit about his mannerisms until he handed you the bag with a simple “hold it.”

You were about to ask why he kept using you as a living rack, but the raven-haired teen had already turned on his heels, walking the opposite direction. “Hey! Why’d you-“ Before your question was said, the bag opened itself in your grasp and you could recognize the sight of food inside.

Immediately, you lowered into a squat to shuffle through the plastic bag’s contents- 2 bento boxes with each having different meals, a water bottle, a couple of small snacks, and a single note attached to the uppermost bento:

This was for trying to punch you.

Sorry.

Your cheeks flushed instantly, flustered as a visceral feeling of flattery coursed through you, leaving your form stunned. No way… This- Wha-. “Ya!” Apparently, a yell to the retreating figure was your brain’s immediate response to the non-verbal apology. “This is- I mean thanks so much! I’m really hungry and all, but I’d be okay if you’d simply said sorry!”

A half-raised hand from the distance was all you got in return, which did not help calm the jittery sensation you felt at the moment. “But thanks a bunch!”

You gathered your bearings together and attempted to steel yourself into composure, picking the plastic bag up and entering the apartment building with a shy smile growing on your face. However, 10 steps in and all of a sudden, you realized something was missing in your possession.

School bag. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, doing the utmost possible to not explode in confusion and frustration. You left it at the convenience store dumbass. You swore today couldn’t get more overwhelming as it already was.

And then the door knocked. You answered it and you entered into a new level of dumbstruck.

Standing- no, hovering before you was a bulky, purple humanoid with long flowing black hair, red scarf, golden shoulder plates, white loincloth, and black shoes. “Uh…” You remained speechless as he offered you a school bag, which upon looking closer was yours due to the name found in the corner of the leather.

It took less than a second for you to recognize this entity- the fingerless black gloves, the thick purple arm, the blue-green eyes. Those damn eyes.

This was Jotaro’s so-called evil spirit… casually giving you your bag with a quiet “ora”, followed with him waving at you with a grin before closing the door for you.

What was happening? You blinked a couple of times and stared at your newly-received bag for a few more seconds. Today must be a fever dream. If it weren’t for your growling stomach, you could’ve ended up staying in the same spot for the rest of the evening.

Coming to your senses, you settled into your apartment space, freshened yourself up, and prepared the table along with the food that came from the delinquent’s money. Recalling it again, you cocked your head in disbelief, still reeling from the unexpected sorry note.

Just as you were about to dine, you thought about paying him back in some fashion and reached into the school bag beside you to pull out your wallet, just to check how you fared financially, only for you to feel the corner of paper underneath the bag’s lid.

Flipping it over, there was another sticky note with a message written in the same handwriting as the previous. Reading it, your cheeks grew warm the second time as you smiled to yourself and scoffed:

Thought it’d be fair.

Also, don’t leave your bag stupid.

You held your cheek against your palm, a dumb smile fixed on your face. “Ah this guy really…” On second thought, maybe this infamous bad boy was more than what he looked on the outside.

Your new life in Japan might not be as boring as you thought it would be after all.

#jotaro x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jjba #jotaro kujo #jotaro x y/n #jotaro x you #jojo part 3 #polaris au

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ivestas · 1 year

Text

accursed flesh (1/2)

PART TWO

Summary: You are the only female Witcher in existence, and you are suffering because of it.

Tags: Geralt x Witcher!Reader, headcanon format, blood, death, descriptions of pain, reader implied not to be european/not petite, reader implied to be younger than the others, unedited, etc.

Word count: 2.6k

Note: this idea has been poking me, but can u blame me? the entire concept is so fascinating!! also been craving to write something in a headcanon format since its so fun and easy LMAO; also to quickly add, this takes place BEFORE the events of witcher 3, but not too far before! AND, as usual, sorry for the wonky writing/lowkey ooc-ness of the characters, this is something super self indulgent and i just wanted to get it on paper

It was a dreary winter in Kaer Morhen. The cold hit you right in the bones, deeper than a basilisk's claws.

Your body was weakening. The mutagens—they were eating you alive. Writhing under your skin, burning the blood in your body and always leaving you in a state of constant pain. And that winter frost certainly wasn’t helping.

But you tried your best to stay light—the atmosphere within the stone walls was already quite... unsavory.

Lambert was still pissy about the facial scar he’s gotten, especially since Vesemir is insistent on using it as a learning lesson.

Vesemir was also pissy because Lambert wouldn’t stop imitating him and taking his vintage hat as a prop.

Eskiel had wooed a woman—a surprise to everyone—but had then found out that not only was the woman a succubus, but one that had a vendetta against Witchers and had aimed to kill him.

And Geralt...

He didn’t divulge in the details—or anything, actually. All he mentioned was that the roads were rockier and coin was thinner and harder to come across.

You tried your best to be a positive force, but it was proving to be difficult. Especially now.

You’d failed in your quest to find an antidote to your slow degradation, and due to that failure, your body was starting to gray. Patches of skin were starting to rot.

It sounded—no, is—horrifying. But you’ve given up. And you hadn’t the heart to tell the others that—fuck, you didn’t even know if they were aware of what was happening.

Only Vesemir knew, probably. You noticed his sad stare. It sickened you.

However, at night, it was easy to pretend nothing was amiss. That everything was as it should be, because mead was thick in the men’s blood.

Eskiel was beside you, while Lambert and Geralt were sitting across the large log table. Bottles upon bottles of all types of alcohol were strewn.

You didn’t have the luxury to drink—you found it irritated your already irritated mutagens. So you settled with juice, something that drunken Lambert took note of.

“Hey... don’t tell me you’re becoming Vesemir...” he slurred before breaking to a grin. Grabbing the vintage hat he’d clearly grown fond of stealing from Vesemir, he put it on with a flick of his wrist. “‘Alcohol is a Witcher’s enemy. It steals your senses, robs you of logic—two things a Witcher needs to survive!’”

Eskiel snorted, the closest to a real laugh you’ve seen him choke out.

“Yeah, actually haven’t ever seen you drink,” Geralt spoke from Lambert’s side. His eyes were prying. “Not fond of alcohol?”

A wry smile twisted your lips. “You could say that.”

“No, wait, Geralt, your right!” Lambert’s words turned loud. “You’re totally right! I’ve never ever seen her drink either! And I’ve never met a Witcher that doesn’t fuckin’ like mead!”

“Don’t get hung up on it, Lambert. Too much thinking’ll make your head hurt.” You scoffed, taking a swing of your raspberry juice.

Lambert spluttered. Thank God he’s drunk, because if he wasn’t, you’re sure he would’ve insulted you in a way you didn’t think was possible.

“But anyway, any good things happened to you guys? Aside from cruel succubi—my condolences, Eskiel—and shitty contracts?”

“My year’s been quiet aside from that,” Eskiel muttered.

Lambert chimed in, nearly slumped over the table. “Same ‘ere, but I also met some Witchers from another school... they were assholes...”

“It’s a shame every person you meet turns out to be an asshole.” You couldn’t stop the sarcasm that laced your words, but he didn’t seem to notice, instead taking yet another bottle and clumsily pouring it into his mug.

“What about you, Geralt?—and don’t try to sell me on the ‘quiet roads’ bullshit, you’re always up to something—what king have you been fraternizing with this time?” What sorceress have you been trying to lay with lately?

Geralt paused, his face contemplative. You could imagine snapshots of memories flashing in his head, each one packed with layers of action and tension, and after a few moments of that quiet, he finally spoke.

“Can’t think of anything. Sorry.”

Before you could press him further, he turned the tables onto you.

“What about you though? You didn’t say much.”

“You didn’t say anything at all, actually.” Eskiel noted, sparing you only a quick glance before being immersed in his drink the same way Lambert was.

“I...”

You were a shit liar—the school of Wolves were all shit liars frankly, and the worst part was that they could catch those same lies too in a heartbeat.

“Well... It’s complicated.”

“The night is young,” Geralt murmured. “We don’t have much else to do except drink.”

“Yeah... well...” Fuck.

A part of you wanted them to know, but you knew the moment they were aware of your decline, they’d do anything to try to reverse it, just as you would with them.

Again, Wolves. The school was a pack, and it would be hypocritical of you not to want them to worry if you would react the exact same.

Especially Geralt. You’d burn countries if it meant helping him.

“Been trying to fix a few things.” Were the words you settled with.

“What things? And were you able to do so?”

“Personal things, and... unfortunately not.” You stared at the contents of the mug in your hand, your reflection distorted. Uncertain. “It’s too late.”

Geralt hummed at that. “Need help?”

The words were so simple, and somehow, it left you silent, as though he asked something grand, something completely philosophical and abstract. It left you stunned, strangely—despite being confident that Geralt has your back, there’s an absurdity to it.

You’d help me?

He didn’t say anything, simply looking at you with what seemed to be a reassuring look. A silent, underlying, muted warmth. Or maybe you were just imagining it—fuck, you didn’t know what to think.

And then, it hit you:

You were going to die anyway.

Doesn’t that allow you to be a little selfish?

“Yeah, I think I need an extra set of hands.” You couldn’t look at him in the eyes. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all, really.”

“Jeez, get a room—urp!” Lambert nearly keeled over. “Fuck! Is it jus’ me or is the room getting a little wonky..?”

Eskiel sighed, getting up from where he was and walking to Lambert. “Guess I need to be his caretaker again.” He grabbed Lambert, forcing him on his feet. Before he could sway and fall, he threw his arm over his shoulder. “Good night you two.”

“Good night,” you smiled.

Geralt nodded to him. “Night.”

And just like that, they were gone.

Geralt looked to you expectantly.

“I know something’s wrong. My medallion’s been humming ever since you came. Is this something to do with your issue?”

“Yeah, uh… Look, I’m not gonna mince words,” looking at him, your voice was resolute. “I’m dying. I think by the end of the winter, my spirit’ll be long gone.”

The smallest flashes of emotion that appeared on his face died seconds later.

“I thought the complications with the mutagens..?”

“They never went away—they got worse, actually.” You frowned. “I spent the year searching, and there was no antidote. It’s like—you know how your body gets influenced in certain ways by mutagens? Kind of warps your body and tissue, becomes a part of you?”

Geralt nodded.

“Your body, it sustains it—men’s body naturally do, because of muscle mass and shit like that. Biological differences. According to some druids, the only reason I got past the main steps to becoming a Witcher as a kid was just ‘cause I worked in the farm a lot more and gained more muscles due to that and genetics…” A humorless laugh tore from your throat. “Aren’t I special?”

Geralt’s eyes averted to the drink he nursed in his hands.

“But yes, because my body isn’t strong enough to sustain and create harmony with the mutagens I’ve been infused with, the mutagens became embedded in my biological matter and have become a plague that wishes to only eat at my body till there’s nothing left.”

You pulled up your thick sleeve to reveal a thick circle of rot. Your natural complexion abruptly cuts to an unnatural dark miasma of a purplish-black with the smallest veins of a deep green and a blood-red. It resembled the skin of a rotting horse carcass.

You laughed again. “To be honest, now that I say it out loud? I don’t think I need help, It’s just too late—“

“Don’t say that. I’ll help you.”

“Geralt—“

“I refuse to let you die.” His eyes burned. His face, although controlled, betrayed some emotion with how the muscles of his jaw seemed to knot, how his brows furrowed, his lips pushed downward to a bitter frown. “Why did you keep this a secret?”

Suddenly, the ‘not to worry you guys’ explanation didn’t hold water.

You knew there was a reason—there just had to be, right?—but you couldn’t find one, one that you could confidently say out loud that didn’t betray the part of your mind you’d long since exiled from your consciousness.

You smiled. “Dunno. Too many reasons, too little will.”

Geralt’s frown deepened. The look made you anxious—but not in a way that you were fearful of him—no, never, not Geralt. Never Geralt.

But rather, the anxiousness and guilt that you know you disturbed the little peace of mind he had. The comfort that coming to Kaer Morhen was meant to provide.

“We need to fix this. I’ll tell Vesemir, I’m sure he’d know something—“

“Don’t!”

“What?”

“Don’t, Geralt. Please.”

“Why?”

“Because you just can’t. This is why I didn’t want to tell you, you guys get worked up and—“

“You’re dying and you expect us—me—not to get ‘worked up’?” He said the words as though they were nonsense—as if he couldn’t detect a lick of sense behind it. “You’re rotting, and you expect me to just sit down and do nothing?”

“I—I don’t know, listen, Geralt, I don’t mind—“

“I’m not listening. This topic is over. I will help you, whether you want that help or not.”

You chewed on the skin of your lips.

His voice softened. “At dawn, we’ll meet and talk to Vesemir. I’ll make sure the other two don’t know, if you want.”

“...yeah. Thank you.”

---

It was right at dawn when you and Geralt met with Vesemir in the training hall.

Geralt was the one to provide the information of what was happening since you couldn’t seem to find the verbal coherence to do so yourself.

When he finished, Vesemir sighed deeply.

“I simply wish you’d come to me sooner, child.”

Your ears burned but you maintained your poker face. Child.

“Can you show me the... ‘rot’?”

You obliged, revealing the festering rot your left arm.

Although it was just a small movement—almost imperceptible—you noticed the way his eyes widened the slightest bit.

You were completely fucked if it took Vesemir of all people by surprise.

“I’ve never seen anything like this...”

“At least I’ll leave a mark on history in my own way: ‘first female Witcher, dies of perpetual rot!’ Hope my name’s the label for this illness.”

Vesemir ignored you. So did Geralt, but you weren’t blind to the quick glance he gave you. “I can only think of one way that could perhaps cease—or better yet, reverse this, and it’s if we can pry the mutagens out of your body.”

"That’s impossible. Doesn’t the Trial of Grasses make it impossible to do that?”

“Yes, unfortunately... but there’s hope. Perhaps the mutagens you have now could be swapped with a weaker set, letting your body overpower and take control.”

“And how’d we do that?”

Vesemir paused.

Geralt was the one to speak, and he spoke slowly. Quietly. “Another Trial of Grasses..?”

“No, no, no—fuck no.” You stepped back, glaring at Geralt. “I’d rather die than go through that again!”

Geralt crossed his arms, brows furrowed slightly. “I doubt it would work… her body’s grown and the mutagens had long since become ingrained in her, right?”

Vesemir frowned, nodding. “Yes, but it’s the only way.”

“I’m not doing this. You’re not gonna make me do this. There’s no way in any circumstance you’ll make me commit to this. No. Don’t even try.”

“Then you have any ideas?” Geralt glared at you. “Because I’m not just gonna let you die.”

“Fuck if I know! Look, I don’t mind, at all! It’d be nice to die on my bed than in battle—“

“Don’t be selfish!” He snapped. “You’re not gonna die. Not now, not in a hundred years.”

Conviction bled in his words. You fell silent.

He turned to Vesemir once more. “Are you sure there aren’t any alternatives? Something less intensive?”

Vesemir rubbed his chin with a hand. “I can think of something, but it’s requires a lot more time—forming a pact with someone with equal or greater power—someone who has the same or similar mutagens to hers.”

“So I gotta find a basilisk and form a pact with it? To be honest, I don’t want my soul companion to be the same things I’m meant to slay—“

“I’ll do it.”

Your brain froze for a second.

You glanced at Geralt.

“What?”

“I’ll form a pact with you, if you’d like—better than a basilisk, right?”

“You’d do that?” With someone like me?

A small smile pulled at his lips for a second.

Your heart twisted in deep warmth, and for a second in time, the impenetrable cold and gloom of your mind bathed in that momentary spark.

Vesemir clasped his hands together. “That’s perfect! If this goes as according to plan, the rot should at least cease the festering—hopefully, it even heals over! But right now, let’s focus on the pact—both of you, draw some blood.

Geralt took the dagger hung at his waist and drew a quick line of blood on the palm of his hand.

He offered you the blade. You took it gratefully.

Drawing a line for yourself on your hand, you nodded to Vesemir. “Done.”

“Now both of you, hold hands.”

You did as instructed, taking Geralt’s hand and clutching it tightly. It was warm. You couldn’t look at him in the eyes.

Though you could’ve sworn you heard a breathless laugh from him.

“Now, two of you, repeat after me: ‘with time shall it come, chimes of dark bells, synchronous melody that forms two into One. We shall become One.’”

In tandem, you and Geralt echoed the words.

A beat later, something strange took over you; an out of body experience, something that seemed to rip you of your senses for a moment and left you breathless—as if your body was robbed, and your spirit was all that was left to exist.

In that same beat, pieces of your mind seemed to snap into something foreign, something completely unfamiliar—feelings, memories, thoughts, ideas... they changed, eclipsed into a thing both familiar but distant. Icy but full of warmth.

And, instantaneously, the pains of your body—they ebbed, weakened, and diminished.

The pain was dead. The ache scrubbed clean from your limbs. You were whole.

When you regained your bearings, you couldn’t stifle the giddy laugh that jumped out your throat, the newfound energy coursing through you like that of a mountain’s great river. “Fuck that feels good, I actually feel my age!”

Vesemir pointed to something. “Your arm, child. It’s...”

You look down to your left arm.

It’s miraculously healed—skin smooth and in full color.

You grin became impossibly bigger. “Oh my God!” You turned to Geralt who had seemed to have regained his senses. “Thank you Geralt, thank you so, so, so much!”

He smiled. It struck warmth in you, and at that moment, you were sure he felt it too.

Note: I have some ideas for the part 2 (where the actual romance actually happens LMAO) but if you guys have any, drop by in the ask or dm me 🥳 orrr, if you want to request a geralt fic, DO SO!! wpuld love to get some geralt requests hehehhehehehheeh

#geralt x reader #witcher x reader #witcher 3 x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #female reader #witcher reader #sorry for the lack of romance :((

313 notes · View notes

caramel1mochi · 9 months

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Trouble in Paradise! Gekko x Reader [Sample]

Heya again! I'm back, and this time with a quick story!

This isn't a request or anything like that, it's something quick that's been burning in my head for months but I had nowhere to post it that I wrote to introduce myself again, but this time with a banger! I hope you enjoy it!!

I'll still be working on requests, this is just the appetiser before the main courses, if you catch my drift. Anyway, I hope you have a good read! Oh, and don't mind the wonkiness. Tumblr formatting is such a doozy. I'll go back and try to fix any errors if I find 'em.

❤ฺ·。

Gekko / F! Reader

Words: 4k

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Drama unfolds after Gekko and Deadlock get into their first dispute in a mission you were in charge of. Seeing as how this might put a stain on your record, you set out to make things right and unintentionally remind Gekko why he had a crush on you in the first place.

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

Despite the lingering tension between them, Deadlock and Gekko never really got into an actual argument. Deadlock was simply too mature to let things get to her. At most, she’d throw Gekko a stern look before going on about her business.

And Gekko… he’s not the type to stir up conflict on his own. The only time he almost fought her was when she accidentally threw a Gravnet at Thrash, but it died down when he realised it was genuinely a mistake.

Today, however, was different.

Today, they were under your watch for the mission. And despite it being Deadlock’s third mission, you made the mistake of taking your eyes off of her and Gekko for one second.

Whilst waiting in the VLT/R, you noticed that everybody entered except for them.

“Y/N, you’re sure they’re not dead?”

In response to Viper’s concerns, you shook your head.

You weren’t incompetent, so of course, she believed you. But if that’s the case, then what the hell was taking so long?

Crap, what if they died when everybody left?

Lifting your hand towards your ear, you unmuted. And almost immediately, Gekko’s angry voice blared through your ears. And you flinched.

“...because Wingman got stopped doesn’t mean he did nothing! Hey, he probably did more than you this whole m–”

You muted.

That did not sound like Gekko at all. Since when was he so snappy?

It was kind of cute, in a way. But now’s not the time to be having such thoughts.

“I’ll go and check on them.”

Viper nodded and allowed you to hop out of the vehicle, making your way to them.

It didn’t take that long to figure out they were on A on account of how loud their voices had gotten. It felt unnatural to hear two of the calmest agents shouting like this.

❤ฺ·。

Arriving on A, you noticed them standing in the centre next to the generator, Deadlock leaning on it as she crossed her arms.

On her face wasn’t a typically serene expression. Instead, she harboured a massive amount of anger. So much so, neither of them heard the loud creaking of the wood boards under you as you walked, your heels elegantly clicking with each step.

“Why the strawman, Gekko?” Deadlock retorted, “I told you, again and again. It was a mistake. Get it through your head.”

“I just think it’s funny that you only make mistakes when it comes to my crew, you know? First the Gravnet, now this?”

Deadlock harshly waved him away, turning to the rafters you stood on.

“Then see if I care. I wasted too much of my time here. If you want to cry to somebody, then cry to–”

She stopped once she saw you, both of their expressions quickly softening.

“Cry to?”

You started, tilting your head.

Both of them had to look up to meet your gaze, the ledge you stood upon providing an unintentional boost to your already intimidating aura.

The blonde crossed her arms and turned her gaze to the ground, gritting her teeth.

“Nothing. I was… intending on returning to the aircraft.”

“After ten minutes?”

They fell into an awkward silence.

Keeping their bosses waiting whenever they’d call for a gathering in the meeting room already put them on thin ice. But keeping them waiting after a mission? Of course they’d think that they died or something horrible had happened.

Neither could imagine the displeasure on Viper and Brimstone when they realise the holdup was over some petty argument. Especially when it came to Deadlock, considering how highly they thought of her.

But the unamused look on your face says it all.

However, the worst part was the prospect of you having heard Gekko say such crass things. Typically, with a clear head, he’d never let those things leave his mouth.

But not only did he lose himself today, there stood an incredibly high chance that his crush heard him.

“Okay, fine! We’ll go back. Sorry for taking so long, and stuff…”

Then, your earpiece hissed.

“Y/N, did you find them?”

Viper asked. And just as quickly as she spoke to you, you unmuted and responded.

“They’re okay. You can go, but bring the aircraft back in fifteen minutes.”

“Understood.”

Just as you muted again, the two looked at you in absolute shock.

“Woah, hey, what’re you doing? Why’d you tell her that?”

Gekko said. And for once, Deadlock stood by him, angrily agreeing.

“I’m not returning to Viper with this on my record. If someone like Deadlock is going to start a fight in the middle of the site, then you’re both also going to settle it. Do you understand?”

“But–”

“Do you understand?”

“Crystal.”

Deadlock said through gritted teeth, and Gekko turned his gaze away whilst nodding.

They weren’t pleased, but they couldn’t really go against your orders.

It might not be your fault, but the idea that your techniques in battle could've caused the increase in friction between these two will definitely be planted in some agents’ heads.

If that idea then reaches Brimstone and Viper, and they believe it, it won’t end well on your side.

Deadlock getting in a fight was like Cypher or Omen getting in one. It’s incredibly concerning, considering how she is as a person.

You sat down on the ledge, resting your chin on your hand.

“Now, tell me what happened.”

“Deadlock almost used her cannon on Wingman, and–”

“Gekko says that I was purposely trying to shoot his creature but I–”

“That’s enough.”

They both spoke at the same time, and this prompted you to shut them up.

Bad idea.

But from what little you heard, you could clearly tell that neither of them provided an unbiased take on the situation. And unfortunately, you weren’t exactly focusing on them after the spike planted, so you couldn’t tell yourself.

Which is why this whole situation took place.

You sighed, and gestured to Deadlock.

“What happened?”

She took a deep breath and began explaining.

“The spike was planted. Their Jett ran to wine, so I wanted to trap her with my accelerator.”

Whilst she explained, she gestured to the left of the arched entrance. And you nodded, crossing your legs.

“When I launched the pulse, Wingman came out of nowhere and got in the way. I tried to avoid him, but I wanted to catch Jett as well. So the cocoon had a crooked path and an opening. If any of the others noticed that area and shot it, she could’ve easily escaped with one bullet! It’s nonsense!”

With each word she spoke, you could tell her anger began rising to a point she could hardly control.

“It was only luck that Viper had that wall up right after I got their Jett!”

You nodded once more.

During the mission, you do recall seeing the path that formed, noting how weak the wires looked as they desperately held on to each other. But it quickly flew by you.

Then, you turned to the Angeleno, who was now just as angry.

“Gekko, is this true?”

“Only parts of it! She’s just putting the blame on me like I can read people’s minds, or something!”

“Your creatures can take bullets no problem! Why’s my cocoon such an issue?!”

“I won’t let you harass my buddies just because you can, Deadlock!”

“Hey, look at me.”

They complied with clenched fists.

“Neither of you are to speak with the other without my permission. Do you understand?”

They nodded, Gekko fixing his posture and looking elsewhere.

You looked at him. Your gaze, despite the vacuous expression, easily pierced through his.

It left him uneasy. And a tiny bit awestruck.

“Tell me what happened.”

Unlike the articulate Deadlock, who took her time gathering her thoughts, Gekko simply let the words spew out of his mouth, completely discarding his inhibition.

“She’s right up until she blasted the cannon thing! I told everybody, out loud, that I was going for Jett, with Wingman in my hands. And I let the little man go! Then she took out her arm. It’s like she was waiting for me to send him out so she can hit him!”

“You didn’t say that through the radio–”

“Deadlock.”

Her mouth was quickly forced shut. A bit satisfying on the Angeleno’s side.

Only Gekko would manage to make such a calculated woman so angry. Same goes for Deadlock, now that you’ve seen this side of her.

In a way, it was poetic.

You sat back with a sigh and ran the situation back in your head.

Somehow, this was even more aggravating for the duo, the atmosphere around them thick to a suffocating degree. But this time, you weren’t the cause. The best part is that it was growing thicker as you thought, Deadlock’s finger slightly twitching thanks to the fury she felt.

It took you almost a minute to try and form a conclusion, but you couldn’t. You didn’t see enough to make such a decision.

Besides, it’s not like you could just go ahead and make one. This wasn’t some petty argument. If their abilities overlapped in a different way, it could’ve heavily backfired. There had to be repercussions for something like this.

“Okay. I need to run this with the others before something can be done. Until then, I’m suspending you two. I am not to see either of you in the same room, let alone talking to each other. Is that understood?”

They nodded.

“Good. Now, is there anything else you want to say before we leave?”

“No, no. We’re, um, we’re good.”

At most, Deadlock wanted to voice her annoyance at how much you interrupted, but that wasn’t really important in the grand scheme of things.

However, you could tell that Gekko was nervous. From the way he stood, and how he kept his eyes on the ground even when you looked at him.

It wasn’t related to his crush on you anymore, something else now bothered him.

You got up from your ‘seat’ and led them towards the departure point, silence taking over the conversation as they waited for the aircraft to return.

❤ฺ·。

Gekko jumped when he felt a flick against his forehead, mumbling an ‘ow’ and rubbing the spot in annoyance.

“Hey, what was that for?”

“You’ve been zoning out for the past minute! What’s on your mind, huh? Did something happen back in Venice?”

Jett crossed her arms on the cafeteria table and leaned forward, decreasing the distance between them even though she sat on the opposite side of the circular table.

“You could say that… I mean, it’s kind of a long story, and I don’t think–“”

Wingman ‘elbowed’ him and scolded him for his nonsense.

“It’s not that important! It’s not like–”

Then, a series of gargles took Jett’s eyes off of Gekko and on the yellow creature that suddenly leapt off of his lap, explaining to her what happened in detail.

Jett’s brown eyes glimmered as he spoke, but her expression remained blank. Like an amazed puppy that also had no idea what the hell was going on.

Suddenly, he was swiped away back to Gekko’s lap, a red tinge on his cheeks.

“Yo, quiet, little man! I’m trying to keep that secret!”

The last words were spoken through gritted teeth, but Jett didn’t notice.

“Come on, Gekko, I was listening to him! Did you have to do him like that?”

“I– I mean, he was getting carried away… but he just said that, um, basically, Deadlock and I got in a fight.”

“Deadlock?”

He nodded, disappointed at this predictable reaction.

“Why would Deadlock of all people get in a fight with you? She’s chill, like, I dunno, all the friggin’ time? And so are you!”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about! The, um, the Deadlock part. If you think about her like that, then what’re the admins gonna say? They’ll take her side, no questions asked! They respect her way more.”

“Yo, Gekko, pause. You can’t be saying stuff like that when I don’t even know what happened. Give me a run down, yea?”

With a sigh, he started giving her a general explanation of the events, which took a bit on account of Jett asking for elaboration at random points in the story.

Gekko leaned against the chair once he was done, resting his arm on the back of it.

“...Y/N said that she’ll talk about it with the others, but, you know, Deadlock clearly has the advantage here.”

“What’re you on about, fam? What advantage has she got, she joined after you!”

The thick British accent snapped Gekko out of his bout of anxiety. He glanced at Phoenix who sat right next to him, sipping his smoothie.

“Since when were you here?”

“Gotta say, one hell of a feud you both got goin’ on, mate.”

“It’s not a feud, she’s trying to kill my buddies! I’m telling you. First, that bear, then Wingman.”

He heard a gurgle. But weirdly enough, it wasn't on his lap. They both looked at Jett, who was petting the creature she somehow stole whilst they were distracted.

“I dunno Gekko. I mean, I like you, but I think that it was just an accident like last time.”

“Give me a break. If what she’s doing is an accident, then you’re also accidentally stealing my friends eight times a day.”

She awkwardly giggled, turning her gaze back to Wingman on her lap.

“Nah, but, let’s go back to that advantage thing.”

“Just look at her! Deadlock has it all, you feel me? She’s like Sova. Experience, wisdom, looks, she lost an arm in a fight, too! I’m still in training.”

“Yeah, to be fair, you don’t look like you spent a day in a battlef–”

Jett elbowed Phoenix hard enough to shut him up, before meeting Gekko’s gaze with a warm expression.

“Don’t listen to them! Even if they take her side, in our hearts, you didn’t do anything wrong! We’ll defend you no matter what, Gekko!”

She spoke in a mawkish anime-like way, making Gekko chuckle. But he’d be lying if he said that it wasn’t cute.

“Yo, and since you like Y/N, maybe you can charm her into helping you out, you know? Take it from the man himself, mate!”

Phoenix thumped his chest once with a wide grin on his face. And though Gekko’s face turned beet red, he simply cleared his throat and tried his best to form a cohesive sentence.

“Dude, no way. Remember when Chamber tried flirting with Viper? I don’t want that to happen to me.”

“Sure, but remember, Viper still promised a date afterwards.”

Jett rolled her eyes.

“Chamber only got a date after he killed, like, four of them at once, smartass.”

The topic switched to something else, discussing how that date would go between them. And though it worked in making Gekko temporarily forget until the admins would come to a decision, his eyes still wandered throughout the cafeteria, worried.

And the unease only increased when he saw everyone except for his superiors.

❤ฺ·。

You, Brimstone and Viper sat around the large circular table in the meeting room, each facing each other as they discussed the situation, having heard you tell the whole story based on what Gekko and Deadlock said.

Sage was also meant to be here, but she never responded to the call for whatever reason.

It seems that, just like you, neither of them saw the events unfold in front of them. Though Viper was also onsite, she didn’t pay attention to them on account of her being busy with safely defusing the spike.

But that doesn’t mean they didn’t form opinions based on what you told them.

“Looks like a communication error on Gekko’s side.”

You perked up at this, confused.

“Gekko?”

“He didn’t use the radio before he sent out Wingman, he only spoke. I believe his voice was drowned out by the gunshots and whatnot.”

“Deadlock only said that in passing. There’s no concrete confirmation of such a thing.”

“I didn’t hear him, Y/N. Did you?”

She tilted her head with a raised eyebrow, the right portion of her hair slightly revealing her previously concealed green iris. You broke eye contact, looking elsewhere.

To be fair, he didn’t deny it. Either because he really didn’t, or he couldn't speak up right after you shut Deadlock’s mouth. Even you knew how compliant Gekko was whenever you'd so much as ask him to hold your bag or something.

“No, but…”

“It’s not too hard to believe. He’s still training under Harbour. He’s a good kid, but he’s bound to make mistakes.”

Brimstone spoke up, stroking his beard with one hand. Though he tried to, like you, make Viper more lenient towards the youth, she didn’t change her mind.

“The first thing you learn is not to mess up your communication. Even with the smallest mistake, someone could die and it would be too late for Sage to bring them back. And that’s a mild example.”

“None of Harbour’s notes on him mention any issues even related to this.”

You explain, Viper shaking her head.

“Why would it be Deadlock, then? This is a novice mistake while she has a notable amount of experience, even before her recruitment. I find it hard to believe.”

Brimstone nodded, before putting his hands down and sighing. Seems like he was convinced.

“If that note thing is true, then it’s out of character for him to suddenly make that mistake now.”

“So, what’s your decision?”

You all looked at each other for a few seconds, before Viper spoke up.

“Gekko failed to communicate properly.”

“Brimstone?”

He shrugged.

“Sorry, but she makes a good point. I’m gonna have to say the same thing.”

You set Gekko and Deadlock’s folders down on the table, taking a deep breath. Looks like there wasn’t much of a choice left.

“Will there be a penalty for this?”

“This is a major mistake, of course there will be.”

“Kid’s already in training, but I think we should increase the–”

Then, the door violently swung open, revealing a dishevelled figure.

“Sorry I’m late! Did I miss anything?”

Sage said amidst each gasp of air, holding enough files to look like a book close to her chest. Messy strands of her hair framing her face, alongside the sweat that dripped down her chin.

“Just about everything. We were about to penalise Gekko.”

Viper replied without lifting her gaze, unamused.

“Penalty? Don’t, don’t! He’s innocent. I was there. I heard him on the radio, Deadlock was the one who didn’t speak.”

Everyone locked eyes with the healer in surprise.

“Deadlock?”

“Yes. Y/N, you were there next to him, don’t you remember?”

“Not until now since you mentioned it.”

“So, Deadlock is the one who didn’t speak. Are you saying she intentionally ignored Gekko?”

Sage shrugged, setting the ‘booklet’ on the circular table and taking a seat.

“Perhaps she didn’t hear him, perhaps she ignored him. But what’s for sure is that Gekko did what he was supposed to do, while she stayed silent. Besides, I noticed this pattern in her communication. She usually forgets to call out what she sees. Was this not noted down?”

You shook your head once she gestured to her folders, watching as Sage tucked away a few strands of loose hair behind her ear. Of course, she was disappointed at this answer, even though you weren't the one responsible for noting down agent's inconsistencies.

“I am certain there are witnesses who can attest to this.”

“Are you still going with the penalty?”

Just as you asked, Viper held up a hand and let everyone fall into silence.

“What an unexpected turn of events. Looks like we’ll need to put her back into rigorous training. Everyone in agreement?”

You all agreed.

“Y/N, open her folder and write down when I tell you. You’ll inform both of them afterwards, understood?”

You nodded, opening the file and taking out the pen in your pocket, a sticky note just inches away on the desk behind you.

Of course, despite how useful she was as a witness, that didn’t mean that Sage didn’t get an earful for her tardiness. With how much the younglings here complained about how serious even Brimstone was about being on time for a meeting, this is the exact situation they never wanted to deal with.

❤ฺ·。

Deadlock wasn’t pleased with the news whatsoever. Being put back into not just normal training, but vigorous despite her experience felt like a spit in the face. And yet, of course, being the person she was, she bit her tongue and simply accepted it.

Next to her was the much younger Gekko, who stood there fighting for his life so as to not smile at the news.

Not at her being punished, even though it was a small part of it, but the fact they even thought to take his side against her.

“Are there no more details about this?”

“Sage will talk to you tomorrow at sundown, Deadlock. You can ask her questions there.”

“I see.”

“Good. Now, is there anything else?”

Deadlock shook her head, but Gekko meekly took his chance to speak up.

“Hey, uh, can I talk to you alone?”

The blonde silently took this as her queue to leave, making her way to the exit and allowing the door to slam itself shut; leaving you both alone in your dreadful office.

Just like the meeting room, the air was heavy. The atmosphere was thick, and your piercing gaze only made things worse for anyone unfortunate enough to speak to you in your office alone.

“So, this might sound weird, but, um, I really thought you’d all take her side, you know?”

“At first. I tried to convince them, but Viper and Brimstone are very rigid. Sage managed to help me turn the tides eventually.”

You explained as you crossed your arms, noticing the glimmer in his eyes. Gekko promptly beamed with a smile. You expected him to follow up with a simple sentence like usual, maybe for him to stumble over his words. But instead, it was something you never would’ve expected.

Just as you blinked, the usually meek boy pulled you into an embrace, wrapping his arms around you tight enough to unintentionally push all of the air out of your body and suffocate you. Being naturally taller and stronger than you are, he had an easy time lifting you a few inches to level the hug.

“Thank you! Thank you, thank you! I owe you for this, really!”

“For– uh, what?”

You really couldn’t breathe. You could hardly make that sentence. And hearing your breathless voice, he realised what he did.

With a beet red face, he quickly put you down and took a step back, scratching the back of his head.

“S– sorry, I, um, I kinda lost myself there. But I really thought that they’d be biassed, you know? With how much they like Deadlock and that crap…”

Catching your breath, you took a deep sigh and met his gaze. You clear your throat.

Yeah, ‘lost himself’ is a bit of an understatement.

“Don’t worry about it, Gekko. The decision was made, and you’re now free to go.”

“But I have to thank you back for this, Y/N! I really appreciate what you did!”

You giggle and gently pat his shoulder. A simple touch that turned his cheeks red even more than possible.

“You don’t owe me anything. I'm just doing my job.”

“You sure? I could–”

“Really. It’s just my job.”

Gekko opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out as realisation hit him.

Clearly, you weren’t going to give in and allow him to pay you back. No matter how much he’d insist.

Then, he smiled once more, shrugging innocently.

“If you say so. I’ll drop it, then.”

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He eagerly nodded with a cheeky grin, before leaving your office just as quickly. The door slamming shut.

Though you were relieved that he gave in and didn’t pursue the topic, you thought back to the way his eyes gleamed with emotion once ‘realisation hit him’. Gekko was a stubborn boy. How could he change his mind so quickly within just a few words? You knew he was compliant, but this situation differed from the others...

…

Oh.

That wasn’t realisation, was it? He’s just gonna go and plan something else. Somehow find a way to thank you right under your nose. And with a group of friends just as cheeky as him, he’d probably have a moderate chance of success. You knew how ‘talented’ Raze, Phoenix and Jett were when it came to pranks.

Upon this revelation, you couldn’t help but sigh. You sit back on your rolling chair and turn on the laptop on the table against the wall.

However, you couldn’t help but smile.

Though it would be inevitable to have to politely reject whatever he had planned for you, even you couldn’t deny how cute Gekko was.

Young people, huh?

#gekko x reader #valorant #gekko valorant #x reader #fanfiction #gekko #valorant fanfiction #valorant oneshots #deadlock #valorant deadlock #i don't hate deadlock omg omg i just thought this was fitting for the story #f reader #female reader #x you #fluff

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miralines · 2 years

Text

I printed and bound all of the fiction on the Mechanisms’ website!

[IDs in alt text]

Book pictured here with Algernon

Process images and notes under the cut!

I forgot to take photos for. A good amount of the steps. But here’s the signatures half-sewn together. I ended up having to print every 12 pages individually to get the formatting to work, but it was worth it!

Here’s the text block all sewn together. I used dental floss, since it’s cheaper and thinner than the waxed thread I have access to, and if it’s good enough for ballet shoes it’s probably good enough for binding.

This is what it looked like after hacking at it with an x-acto knife for two hours. This was to trim it and theoretically smooth the edges of the pages, but I don’t think I’m there yet.

Here’s what it looked like after I glued the spine and let it dry. Again, I spared every possible expense, so this is regular elmer’s glue rather than PVA glue.

Here’s the cover half-prepared. I used this tutorial (video) to make book cloth with tissue paper and a fat quarter, and glued it to cardboard I had lying around.

Ignore the crown pattern on the paper; it’s what was on the backside of what I used for the endpages and spine. Here it is (almost!) ready to be glued together!

Aaand here’s it actually being glued together. I don’t have a book press or much counter space, so I used heavy books and a lap desk. It opens a little wonky and has some other quirks, but overall I’m pretty happy with how it came out, especially since it was my first time using a lot of these techniques! Next time I’m definitely not going to use paper for the headbands, since one of them popped off when the spine flexed, but c’est la vie.

#the mechanisms #bookbinding #handbinding #fanbinding #ficbinding #sort of #binding of canonical digital-only text material #i picked up bookbinding two years ago specifically to print and bind fic #but this is the first time I've succeeded in wrangling the printer and formatting

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morrak · 1 year

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Untitled Wednesday Library Series, Part 112

So that's what the first half of a master's degree feels like, huh? Hmm.

What with the schedule and the health and a whole bounty of etceteras, I fear I've developed a minor case of the yips. Is this a readership that is knowing the yips? Whether or not I can still write these posts well feels like a question mark, but I'll make you a deal: I'll try and you'll be polite. Thank you for your cooperation.

I have, despite it all, still been reading. A few weeks ago I strolled through The Jewelry Engravers Manual [sic], which lists as co-authors R. Allen Hardy and John J. Bowman. The exact split of their contributions is a little fuzzy — Bowman doesn't show up on the earliest editions but doesn't seem to have been an editor, exactly — and I frankly don't have time to dig much further.

Thus quoth the frontmatter: ‘The Dover edition, first published in 1994, is an unabridged and unaltered republication of the revised edition of the work as published by Van Nostrand Reinhold Company, New York, in 1976 (original edition, 1954).’ Van Nostrand Reinhold, mostly a marketer of professional material like this, was bought out by Wiley in ‘97 and Dover has nothing to do with them, but given the title’s age it’s no surprise the publication vector is wonky.

The How

It’s a trade paperback printed two years ago, so: bought it new. Move along.

The Text

While the title is accurate, it’s not precise: this is really about designing and cutting script using hand-pushed tools. Small script, yes, and mostly on soft metals, which, sure, 'jewelry engraving', I guess. There’s a chapter on monograms and circa two and a half about tooling, but only as support for the script stuff. Given the vintage and audience — mid-20th century American commercial jewelers weren’t exactly cutting signets; all the business was in personalizing rings and plaques for, like, Rotary clubs and the Lions — it’s hard to imagine anything else seeming very urgent.

This tries its best to be a curriculum. At that think it’s probably successful: the logic of the chapter order is crystal clear, the goal and intended skill level of each section is transparent, and the scope is tight. The prose is tight and descriptive without feeling very technical at all, which is pretty marvelous. Genuinely very pleasant material to read.

The pleasantness is a trick. The trade being written about is stupendously difficult; getting halfway decent by the standards of this booklet would be the work of something like a thousand hours of regular effort. The fundamentals are simple, but the alphabets and flourishes and design thinking asked of the reader are eye-wateringly hard to get right even in the view of a casual observer. Talking about it like it's possible to learn this is an achievement, I think; even I was almost fooled.

Incidentally there’s a little Q&A-shaped section at the back, which serves to collect all the little tidbits they couldn’t include in the chapters proper. You might recognize this technique from that book on watchmaker’s gravers a while back.

The Object

Again, this is a recent trade paperback. How good could it be? Quite, actually.

With maybe two exceptions, the drawings serve their purposes perfectly. Reference alphabets are communicated beautifully. Formatting is clean, if a bit of its vintage (though I am an admitted sucker for ye olde start-of-chapter topic lists). Good typesetting; passable paper. An adequate little thing, doomed though it is to fall apart eventually.

The Why, Though?

I am not a jewelry engraver. I never will be, thank goodness, and with any luck the couple of them I know will keep on keeping their distance. That said, I appreciate the trade's toolmaking ecosystem. It's changed a lot since this was first written — vanishingly few people cut with simple tool steels anymore; script styling has evolved a lot — but some core considerations have held out and I'll take every crumb of advice I can get. It’s healthy for my drafting, and nothing’s more satisfying than having just the right technique in your back pocket for shop-made tools.

More importantly, the authors agree with me completely on the subjects of oilstone selection and shop pencils. This is tremendously validating, even from dead guys who I would have hated to have a real conversation with.

#images #untitled wednesday library series

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crossbows-and-moonshine · 9 days

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I've been thinking about this blog lately.

It was a huge part of my life even though I'm not in the fandom anymore. I wrote for years, contributed a lot to the fandom, made some great friends and had a good time.

Now, years later and no longer really interested in TWD, this blog is just full of cobwebs.

I've considered deleting it several times, wondering what the point in keeping it is. But then everytime I think about it, I still get notes from things I posted years ago.

I considered it again today. I figured since all my work is on AO3 that it didn't really matter anyway, but I was getting notes all day and it made me reconsider.

The thing that's bothered me most is that a couple of years ago, Tumblr fucked all of my work up. So many fics have zero formatting which makes them horrific to read and makes new readers think I'm incapable of writing (I'm not lmao). Other fics have the text entirely deleted and I have no idea why or how. It's bothered me so much that it's fueled the thought of just deleting this blog so many times.

I've decided to try and fix the formatting on my work. I'm just gonna try and redo it all and the ones completely missing I'll copy from AO3.

The thing is, I did try to fix the formatting as soon as I noticed it had gone wonky years ago and it didn't work. So I guess I'll leave it up to fate.

If I can fix it and make it readable then I'll keep the blog, if not I'll probably get rid of it soon.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #boondock saints #boondock saints fanfic

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waywardwizzard · 9 months

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A bell rang through the morning air, sounding like a death toll.

The door to the Mayor of Newance's office swung open and Captain Malcolm Reynolds stepped out, his hand on his gun. Two men rushed past, shotguns slung over their shoulders. He frowned and went to follow them.

He found Zoë leaning against a weather beaten well near the town square. A large crowd was gathering, most of them with weapons, some of them with pitchforks and the sheriff was standing in the middle of it all, his shotgun held high.

Jayne was nowhere to be found.

"What's goin' on?"

"Sheriff's gatherin' a posse."

Zoë glared at a man who passed too close. He clutched his gun to his chest and hurried away. She pitched her voice lower. "There's talk of fugitives out in the woods."

"Zao gao."

Mal took a deep breath and counted to ten in English. Then in Chinese. Then, again, in English. It didn't help as much as it should have.

"I sent Jayne ahead to warn Serenity. I have a feelin' we'll be needin' a quick get-away."

While the sheriff went on, the crowd hanging on his ever word, Mal gestured for Zoë to follow him. They walked down a quiet side street, away from the busy town square, and took another street that led to the woods. Mal smiled at an old woman who immediately gave him a suspicious look.

"Would it be too much to hope that it ain't our fugitives galavantin' out in the woods?" Mal murmured, walking faster.

Serenity's first mate gave him a wry look. "I think we both know the answer to that, sir."

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

Author's note

Howdy y'all! Warning. Most, if not all, of my writing will be bad. Bad enough you'll probably want to gouge your eyes out while you're reading it. And all (ok, lie, most of it), is written and edit in two small 20 minute breaks and the little bit of energy I have left at the end of the day. I don't have a beta reader (unless you count my friend but they're more like an alpha reader) and English isn't my first language. But, I still want to see my writing somewhere else that isn't the notes app I use for Everything. Like I said. It probably won't be good. It will probably be wonky and weird and stunted and not at all in the right format (like me) but sometimes doing things out of your comfort zone will lead to something that can only be described as great.

I just hope that last sentence is true.

#yeehawgust #firefly #fugitives #malcolm reynolds #zoe washburne #fanfiction #gather the posse #found family i guess??#serenity #firefly fanfiction #browncoats #you can't take the sky from meeee #yeehawgust day 1 #space western #browncoats unite #browncoat for life

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drabbles-mc · 2 years

Text

Too Late Now

John B Routledge x F!Reader

Inspired by Day 21 of the August Prompts: snorkel

Warnings: none! Just fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: i just simply love John B. Thats all. Also I'm writing/posting this from my tablet at the airport so if the formatting is wonky that's why 😂

Outer Banks Taglist: @garbinge (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

"If you're going to be taking care of some rich person's fancy boat while they're on vacation," you told John B as you rode shotgun next to him, "it almost seems like a crime to not take it out on the water."

He chuckled, shaking his head at you as he drove, "Pretty sure that the actual crime would be stealing their boat."

You laughed, rolling your eyes, "Its not stealing! We'll bring it back! That's like, inherently the opposite of stealing," you saw the amused yet doubtful look on his face and added on, "Plus, c'mon, Ward's an asshole anyway. What's the harm in it?"

John B's knee-jerk reaction was to say that Ward might be an asshole, but he was an asshole that gave him a job and paid him more than necessary. Was it probably pity money since Big John was gone and Ward felt bad that he didn't have a dad? Probably. But, hey, it paid the bills.

There was a smile on his face as he said, "I shouldn't have even brought you with me."

"Ah," you pointed at him knowingly, "But it's too late now."

Instead of responding, John B just reached and turned the radio up. It got a laugh out of the both of you as you went back to looking out the window, and he went back to driving. The further he drove, the more you could start to see the shift of the island. It was hard to miss the way that The Cut slowly started transforming into Figure Eight. Slowly at first, then all at once. A few miles in one direction or the other and you felt like you, personally, had jumped a few tax brackets.

You drummed your fingertips against the window sill, enjoying the air flowing in as John B drove. Music filtered out as fresh air filtered in– it felt like a fair trade. Every now and then you could feel John B looking over at you, and you fought to mirror his actions. Subtle had never been his forte, but even it was, you were sure that you would be able to feel his eyes on you from across the room, let alone with just a center console between you. Your ability to detect the looks did nothing to tamp down the heat rising in your face each time it happened.

"Eyes on the road, John B," you joked, hoping that you sounded less jittery than you felt.

It was stupid, you reasoned, to feel any nerves at all. You and John B had been best friends for as long as you could remember. Before Pope, before Kie, before JJ, there was you and him. Your family's little run-down house was a stone's throw away from the chateau. And, with less than a year between the two of you, it would've been ridiculous on fate's part to not have you two end up as friends. And so you were– you were best friends.

Then one day when you showed up to the chateau and John B came out to meet you on the front steps, suddenly you felt like the way you looked at him wasn't the way that friends looked at each other, not even best friends. You'd been working on jamming those feelings down as deep as possible ever since. You had varying levels of success depending on the day and the circumstances.

Days like today, circumstances like these, you were failing miserably. When it was just the two of you, not saying a whole lot but not able to stop looking at each other anyway, it made your heart lurch into your throat. The two of you didn't have as much one-on-one time as you used to. Part of you was bothered by it, part of you was glad that you had such a tightly knit group of friends. You couldn't deny that it made these times, when John B carved time out specifically to hang out with you and just you, feel extra special. Which is why you felt yourself fighting off jitters.

"Alright," John B parked the car as he spoke to you, "remember, we're not stealing the boat."

You laughed as you flung open the door of the Twinkie, "Right. Not stealing, just borrowing."

Even though you were already taking off towards the boat, you could hear the huff of a sigh he let out behind you, "Y/N, no!" he could hear your laughter as he picked up his pace to catch up with you.

By the time he reached the boat after you, you'd already sprawled yourself out across the deck. John B laughed as he took in the sight of you lounging. He was half expecting you to have already gone and started it up. Bracing his hands on his hips, he let out a sigh that caused a few wisps of hair to fly up for a second before landing back in front of his face.

"Thanks for not taking off without me," he joked.

Sitting yourself upright, you leaned so that your elbows were braced against your legs, "Where would the fun be in that?"

As much as you wanted John B to blow off all of his responsibilities, you did understand and respect the fact that this was his job. So you trailed around the boat with him while he worked, offering to help when you could. It made the work go a little quicker, but more importantly John B just found it so much more enjoyable with you there. No matter the number of times he rolled his eyes at your commentary, he'd never want you to stop. You kept him from taking himself too seriously– you always had. And he'd been needing more of that than usual lately with everything going on.

"Hey, John B," you giggled from behind him on the main deck.

"Yea?" He turned around as he said it and immediately burst into laughter at the sight of you stripped down to your bathing suit with a pair of snorkeling goggles on, "What are you doing, Y/N?"

"What does it look like?" you laughed, tossing him a pair of goggles as well, "I'm going snorkeling!"

His eyes widened as he fumbled to catch the item you'd just thrown in his direction, "No, you can't–"

You chuckled as you hoisted yourself up onto the railing, "Sure I can!"

He ran towards you, laughing even though he knew he shouldn't be, "Y/N, c'mon–"

You gave a wave, "Catch me if you can!" you let yourself fall backwards over the railing into the water, the coolness washing over you feeling extra refreshing after sitting on the deck in the sunshine.

You waited for a moment, and it briefly crossed your mind that John B might not just leap right in after you. The two of you had definitely done crazier, stupider things. It would be strange if this was where he drew the line.

Just as you were about to call back up to him, his silhouette appeared above the deck railing, the sun behind him casting in almost complete shadow but even so you could tell that he'd shed his shirt and was going to jump in as well. Your laughter filled the air as he jumped off the boat, splashing down into the water not too far off from where you were.

When he resurfaced, the first thing he did was push his soaked hair back out of his face. He let out a sharp exhale, droplets of water blowing off his face as he did. He was shaking his head at you, but the smile on his face negated any attitude that he was trying to give you.

"You didn't bring your goggles!" you laughed.

He rolled his eyes, "I can't believe you're actually wearing them."

"They're as fashionable as they are useful," you joked.

He smiled, "Right. Forgot the fashionable part."

You pushed the goggles up so that they were resting on the top of your head, giving you an unblurred look at the sight in front of you. You'd think that you had never seen John B before with the way your heart sped up in your chest.

The two of you didn't stray too far from the boat. You kept yourselves plenty amused as you swam around, talking and joking around as if you were hanging out in John B's living room, not treading water off the shore of the Cameron's property. A couple times John B had gone underwater, and you couldn't spot him until he was grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you underwater with him. Both of you would surface seconds later, trying to catch your breath through fits of laughter.

"The snorkel would be more useful if you actually wore it the right way," he chuckled as he watched you wipe the water away from around your eyes.

You laughed, shaking your head, "Don't be ridiculous."

When you could feel your legs starting to tire from swimming and treading water, both you and John B started the short swim back to the boat. He climbed up on board first, offering a hand to help you up onto the deck as well. You initially waved off his assistance, but when you went to swing your other leg up and back onto the boat, you slipped. Luckily you were falling forward and not backward, landing yourself into John B's waiting arms and not the water behind you.

He chuckled, both of you letting out quiet oof's as he caught you. Once you were sure that you weren't going to fall, you laughed. Despite the initial urge to pull away from him now that you'd gained your footing, you didn't. Instead, you leaned farther into him, your forehead resting against his shoulder. The tension that had been in his body from bracing to catch you faded, his arms softening around you but still holding you.

The two of you stood there in silence like that, and you could've been there for seconds or an hour and it wouldn't have felt any different.

"You good?" he finally asked, not letting you go or pulling away.

You nodded, pulling back just enough to see his face, "I'm good, yea."

He tilted his head, "You sure?"

You let out a soft, slightly nervous laugh as you felt your face starting to heat up again, "Yea. I just, you know, it's been a while since it was just the two of us, you know?"

He nodded, "I know."

There was a brief pause before you stumbled across the courage to say what'd been on your mind for so long, "John B?" you didn't sound quite as confident as you'd hoped, but you couldn't let that stop you now.

"Y/N?" he mirrored the softness of your tone.

You'd thought about this moment a million times, but you knew for a fact that you weren't going to have any of the grace that you did in your head. But that was alright– it was John B, after all.

"I really wanna kiss you," a small laugh bubbled out of you, "I mean, I've wanted to for a while. Way before today. But. Yea…" you wanted to have more to say, but your brain couldn't string the words together.

Judging by the smile on his face, though, it seemed like you said the right things regardless. Moving one hand from your waist to your face, you thought he was going to pull you in for a kiss. Instead, he reached up and pulled the goggles and snorkel off your head, causing both of you to laugh. Truthfully, you'd forgotten that you were still wearing them. He tossed them off to the side, and you were about to crack a joke about the whole thing, but before you could, he was pulling you in and pressing his lips to yours.

It caught you off-guard for some reason, even though you were the one who put the idea out there. But you quickly melted against him, reveling in the feeling of his palm gently cupping your cheek, holding you to him. Your hands rested on his shoulders, his skin damp and warm underneath your fingertips. His lips still had a trace of saltiness to them from the water, but kissing him still tasted like heaven, like everything you thought it would.

When you both pulled away to catch your breath, it was impossible to miss the dazed look in his eyes, the smile on his face. His thumb traced over your cheekbone, swiping away the last few droplets of water that were still lingering there. Reaching up, you placed your hand over his, feeling the grin on your face widening as you did.

"Still think you shouldn't have brought me?" you joked, still a little breathless and in disbelief.

He shook his head before leaning in and kissing you again, "I think I should bring you all the time."

#outer banks #outer banks netflix #obx #obx netflix #outer banks fanfiction #john b #john b routledge #john b routledge x you #john b routledge x reader #john b x you #john b x reader #august prompts #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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