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snow--blanket · 4 years

Text

tread lightly

word count: 1570

characters: vincent van gogh, theodorus van gogh

fandom: ikemen vampire for @ikevampzine! ***

Theo sighed. He had lost track of which idiot was which. “And this is your only wish?”

The man was on his knees, hands clasped together like in prayer. As if Theodorus was a father listening at the confession box and not the devil trapped inside this blasted glass cage. “It is! It is, so—!”

He rolled his eyes, then snapped his fingers. Dust gathered in a cyclone, and what was whipped from ash and lint revealed a beautiful young woman, red-dressed and hair the faded colour of corn husks. When she opened her eyes, she saw the man, weeping at her foot. Theo held back his laughter. There was a look of disgust there.

Then the two of them went off on their merry way, only leaving Theo with the memory of the girl's grunts as her dress caught on the attic ladder and the whimpering fool that followed suit. Theo sighed. August was not as quiet as he hoped.

He turned around and walked to the music box that used to belong to the man. This deal of his was getting more lackluster by the day. In the war, he'd thrived in the crashing economy, for there were more people—interesting people—who sought him and traded their most precious belonging in turn for a wish.

Now, however? A music box. A measly music box! What else could a music box do but play music? There was no interesting story behind it, too. The man simply said, “it was something my mother gave to me”, and left dilly-dally.

Theo snorted. He did not care for human sentiments. What he needed was a story, and a good one.

He pinched the spot between his eyebrows. God forbid the fact that he was starting to sound like William.

“What did you get this time?” Arthur chimed, peeking over his book. His stupid, handsome face and his stupid mouth and his stupid kind-of-adorable mole was just…. inane. Theo wanted to punch his face in just to shut the mouth that let those words out.

He tossed the music box to Arthur. “Just useless scrap.”

The detective-made-demon gasped scandalously as he caught the box. “Theo! How could you call these scraps! The last one was full of sentiment, a dear treasure, a pearl in the sea of garbage—”

The pink corset came to mind. “You're disgusting,” Theo spat.

Arthur chortled. “Anyways, what's the shtick behind this? Passed down memoir from a lover or something?” He inspected the music box in his hand, even checking the bottom for brand name or engravings. “It doesn't look custom made. And the wood…” He frowned slightly. “This feels cheap,” Arthur concluded, his voice downcast.

Theo did not meet his eyes. No matter how many times Arthur had tried to prove himself as an irredeemable asshole, he was too honest with his own heart. He was a sheep in wolf skin. Theo, however, found being a demon quite easy, and very much affordable. He could spend the rest of his days without needing to pay for rent or experiencing hunger. The Comte's deal was airtight. So airtight it was suspicious.

“Think what you want,” Theo said. He saw the mirror flicker and sighed. It was time to go to work again. He shooed Arthur away and sat in front of the mirror, waiting.

Theo straightened the lapel of his vest. Dazai asked him, once. Why do you dress like that? You're a thief.

I'm a businessman.

And the difference is?

He inhaled a breath, readying himself for another moron to come by for a wish. Theo opened his eyes and waved his hand, dispersing the fog that rendered the mirror useless. He saw a blonde man with blue eyes standing there, in a dull white shirt like used chalk and beige pants. Theo held back his sardonic tongue; fashion deteriorated, it seemed.

“Wish?”

The man blinked, woken from some trance. “My wish? Um, I guess world peace…?”

I don't even know where to begin reacting to that. “No can do. I don't have that kinda power. You're better off praying to God or whoever signs your paycheck.”

The man blushed, eyes averted. “Um, I guess I'd really like new brushes… There's these new ones with really nice bristles.”

Theo sighed. “Could you be more specific?”

“It's a paintbrush with hog bristles. It's really pricey, though, so it's okay if you don't—”

Theo snapped his fingers, and three paintbrushes were thrown from the mirror into the man's hands. His eyes widened like the saucer of a teacup. How delightful. “How much did it cost? I don't have any shillings on me, but—”

Theo waved his hand airily. “No need. Just give me something important of yours.” He felt that devilish smile creep onto his face. “Your life would do, too.”

The man was silent for a moment, and then shook his head. “I'm sorry, I can't give you that. But…” He laid the paintbrush on the floor and fiddled with his ear, and then produced an earring. Theo narrowed his eyes at the sight of blood on his fingertips.

He's insane, Theo thought. Even more than Arthur.

The man extended his hand to the mirror, awaiting. Theo exhaled a sigh, and took the earring from his palm. It would have to do for now. “And the story behind this?”

The man looked excited to explain. “I wear it everyday!”

How am I the one getting scammed when I'm the demon, here? “This isn't enough,” he glared at the man. Theo reached into the mirror, grabbing at the man's hands and smiling when he saw the look of panic flit across his features. Slowly, he dragged his nails down the length of his arm and made three thin strokes of blood. It would undoubtedly scar.

The lines of jagged skin reddened like thick paint, then faded and dispersed like crimson lotuses. “A promise,” Theo said. He rolled his sleeve to show the scars that had been burned into his skin, too. Mirror images of each other. “If you don't come tomorrow, there will be another line of blood waiting.”

The man was silent, unnerved. Theo observed him. Perhaps it was overkill, given the blonde man's airy and harmless disposition, but what's done is done.

“Okay,” the man said with an odd conviction. “I'll be here tomorrow.”

Before Theo could discern the metal in his eyes, the man left, leaving him with nothing but the slightly bloody earring.

The next day, the man arrived, and he bought cream puffs.

Theo blinked. “Listen, human—”

“Vincent.”

“Vincent,” he entertained, “This is… not what I meant by something important to you. And even if it was, I have no need for baking recipes.”

Vincent sat on the attic floor, opening the box of cream puffs and turning it his way. “But it's yummy!”

“I…” Theo pinched the space between his eyebrows. “I don't need to eat food. I haven't eaten anything in five hundred years.”

Vincent looked even more worried, then. “Then you must be even hungrier than I imagined! You can have the whole box, if you'd like. I'll just buy more next week.”

Theo sighed. Well, it won't kill me. He reached his hand through the mirror and took a cream puff. When he bit into it, sweetness coated his tongue, and Theo found himself surprisingly pleased despite himself. “...It's sweet.”

“In a good way?”

Theo nodded. He shovelled the cream puffs into his mouth, impatient to extend that sugary euphoria he felt. When the box was empty, he shot a glare at Vincent. “Don't think this subsides as payment.”

“Not at all.”

Theo thought him weird, but paid him no heed, until he brought him an éclair the next day, and then a powdered donut three days after that, and then a bagful of bread crumbs.

He willed his blue eyes into icicles and glared at Vincent. “You can't honestly think you can bribe me, right?”

Vincent smiled. Theo did not talk much to him when he came by with the pastries, so it was hard to discern what kind of man Vincent was. All he knew was that he was smarter than he looked. “I'm not bribing you.”

Theo leaned back, propping himself up with his hands. He felt the need to appear demonic less and less with him. He was sure it was a common thing with Vincent. He had a way of bringing out the angel in you, even if you were Lucifer himself. “Then is it pity? You treat me as if I'm a street cat.”

That was meant to be a provocation, an insult. Theo hated cats. Instead, Vincent smiled. “You would be a very cute cat,” he said.

“Don't even joke about that,” Theo snapped. “And drop the act already.” Sometimes Vincent's eyes were as clear as water, and sometimes there was something there. Like a knife carved from dried seed pods. Theo wondered what it was that could've culled that natural softness from him.

Vincent considered his words. There it was again. His sky blue eyes shone metallic. “I have another wish,” he said.

Finally, he's not beating around the bush. Theo kept silent, letting him continue.

Then he stood up, and Theo saw that there was metal in his eyes, like a polished barrel of a gun. He was at the wrong end of it. Theo smiled. Most interesting.

“Make me a demon.”

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp writing #ikevamp fanfic #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp theodorus #theodorus van gogh #vincent van gogh

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effervescentvampire · 4 years

Text

Finally

Charlie Weasley x reader

A/N: This is the first one shot I'm posting. Hope you enjoy it 😉

Warnings: none I can think of

Y/N: your name

Y/fc: your favourite colour

Y/ec: your eye colour

Y/hc: your hair colour

____________________________________

You and Charlie had been dating for a few weeks and best friends for two years already when he asked you to stay at the Burrow with him and his family over the holidays.

Naturally, you had said yes to it, but your parents didn't like the idea of not seeing you in the already limited holidays. So, they had agreed on sending you to the Weasley's for a few days before going back to school, together with Penny Haywood. She, Bill, Charlie and you were the best of friends and your parents liked the idea of sending you over far better with Penny there.

When you arrived at the Burrow you felt quite dizzy. Even though you had already travelled via portkey before, you couldn't really get used to it. As the world stopped spinning around you, you looked up at the snow covered house before you. You thought the tall house with its many floors and wrinkles already looked amazing normally, but nothing could match the coziness of it surrounded by nearly 2 feet of snow and fairy lights all around.

"Y/N!", a familiar voice shouted. Mrs. Weasley was standing in the dorway, smiling at you. Looking behind her in a no less loud voice she cried: "BILL! CHARLIE! Come here already and help Y/N inside!".

You went up to the house as you heard hurried footsteps coming your way. Charlie came nearly running toward you, not having bothered to put on a coat, his bright red hair and the new jumper he was wearing a great contrast against the white of the snow. "CHARLES WEASLEY, GO PUT ON SOMETHING WARM, YOU'RE GOING TO CATCH A COLD!", erupted the voice of Mrs. Weasley.

You certainly couldn't care less, as you only had eyes for one person.

"I've missed you, Y/N", Charlie whispered as he hugged you tight. Behind him you heard a small chuckle. His brother, Bill, was standing there beside Penny, your big Hogwarts trunk already in his hand, waiting for you to get out of the cold.

You separated and hugged both Penny and Bill and finally got inside. You were greeted by the inviting smell of hot chocolate and an overflowing amount of christmas decorations. Everything was gold, red and green, you were even sure there was a gnome in a tutu on top of the christmas tree.

Ron and Ginny were playing beneath the tree, giggling and waving at you.

"Bill, you should show our guests where they will be staying", Mrs. Weasley said, and to you: " Penny arrived just five minutes earlier, dear. You can catch up while unpacking, I'll bring you some hot chocolate and a snack"

Charlie blushed, looking at you: " She thinks she has to feed everyone like her life depends on it".

The four of you made your way up the stairs, you hand in hand with Charlie, Bill pulling your trunks up after him. Penny and you had both insisted on carrying them yourselves, but he had refused.

"...and my sister got me a necklace!", Penny told you when you arrived on the second landing. There were two doors, both wooden. One simply with a sign saying: William's room, the other covered by the image of a big Common Welsh Green. Even if you hadn't already been here, you would have ultimately known whose room this was.

Slightly smiling you looked at your very favourite dragon enthusiast, squeezing his hand. "We thought I would move in with Bill and the two of you could share my room", Charlie said, blushing again, his skin as red as his hair. The sheer thought of his girlfriend sleeping in his room seemed to make him uneasy.

"Only if you'd like that, of course", he added quickly.

"That's brilliant guys, thanks for inviting us over!", Penny answered. She was such a sweet person and was able to make anyone feel comfortable in an instant. Charlie had returned to his normal colour, and pushed the door open to let you in.

The walpaper covering the walls was of a bright shade of dark yellow. Photos of your friend group and cut-outs of dragons and his favourite quidditch team covering an overflowing bulletin board. School books piling on the messy desk and next to a book case full of books on dragons. They had somehow managed to fit a second bed in the tiny space.

"Well, Y/N, you should take Charlie's bed! I'll be just fine right here. You know, I like getting up early in the morning, I don't want to climb over you to get to the door", Penny stated. Normally you would have just thought she was generous and nice as ever, but the wink of her eye told you otherwise.

"Uh, I guess, if you're ok with that?". You were a little embarassed, so you asked the first thing that came to your mind: "What was your Christmas like? Penny told us already, but what did you do? Mine was pretty quiet, just my close family, got a new set of dressing robes"

When Bill groaned, you knew you had asked a sensible question. "Don't get me started on that. Our Auntie Muriel was there... Fred and George pulled pranks on her like every year... put some potion in her dinner they got at the joke shop at Diagon Alley in summer...she grew feathers and threatened to never come back. They're grounded forever, that's why you haven't seen them yet. Mum threatened to turn them into owls so they would deliver the post as punishment".

You spent the whole evening up in Charlie's room, chatting about what else had happened and if you had heard anything from your other friends. Mrs. Weasley appeared to bring hot chocolate and snacks. It felt like only half an hour later that she came back in to tell you that dinner was ready.

Penny and Bill went downstairs, while you and Charlie stayed back a few minutes.

"You know, I really enjoy it every time I'm here. It feels so much more like home, especially after this whole thing with Jacob... . Thank you for always being there for me, Char. It means a lot to me", you said.

He looked at you, his freckled expression softening, brown eyes meeting Y/ec ones. "You mean a lot to me, even more than dragons. Of course I'm there for you".

You felt the familiar butterflies in your stomach. Charlie and you rarely got some alone time in between classes, the search for cursed vaults, meetings with you friend, quidditch practises and the unholy amount of homework. You practically couldn't think straight anymore when his face came closer to yours. It struck you in an instant: he's going to kiss me, you thought. The only thing in the world seemed to be his face, your heart beating loud and fast with anticipation. Your first kiss, it would happen now...

"CHARLIE AND Y/N STANDING ON THE STAIRS. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Fred and George bolted past you down the stairs, snickering. Charlie had been so shocked he backed away and hit his head on a cupboard. As soon as he recovered he chased them into the kitchen. Until a minute ago you had felt sad for them being grounded, now you thought they deserved it.

Neither of them stopped singing this ridiculous muggle song, lord knows where they learned it. Mrs. Weasley had managed to make them sit down at the table and was making sure Charlie wouldn't shout at them by shooting mad glances.

Ginny called out: "Oh, how lovely, Charlie!", as she entered the kitchen through the back door. You came down the stairs to see that Mrs. Weasley had finally managed to shut Fred and George up. Ginny, however, asked you sincerely: "When the two of you are getting married, can I be your flower girl?", causing Charlie to choke on his drink.

"Don't be stupid, who would ever want to marry Charlie?", Ron said.

It was all oh so embarassing. Minutes ago you were about to share your first kiss and within seconds the whole family knew. Charlie was deep red as rhubarb again, ashamed. You sat down next to him, holding his hand, hopefully showing him you weren't mad.

"Nobody here is getting married, not until they're at least in their mid-twenties!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, " and I don't want to hear any of that again. Sit down and EAT!".

The rest of the night went by without further interruptions of that kind, only some curious looks from Fred and George. Your relationship wasn't new to Bill and Penny, so they just brushed it away, saying they knew they would kiss someday and it wasn't a big thing, but every now and then you could see a kind of sparkle in their eyes, following you playing with Ron and Ginny and their game of exploding snap.

Bedtime for the younger kids came and went and you and your friends were thinking about building a snowman when Charlie's dad arrived. He was working on a weird schedule at the moment, something between morning and night shifts.

"Arthur, dear, come on in! We have been waiting for you... would've already sent them to bed, but we have to give Y/N and Penny their presents first!", Molly said.

Mr. Weasley looked very tired, wearing an old traveling cloak and soaked by the snow. He quickly pulled it off and used a spell to dry his clothes up.

"Penny, Y/N, it's nice to see you again! I hope you don't mind if I go to bed soon, it's been a very busy day at work. We just wanted to hand you your presents"

Mrs. Weasley appeared behind him, holding two identical shaped packages: "Go on, open them!"

You carefully unwrapped your present and gasped a little when you saw what it was. It was a real Weasley jumper in Y/fc! It was perfect, with your initial on the front. Bill and Charlie must have told them how much you loved their jumpers. You could often be seen around Hogwarts wearing one of their cozy pullovers, wishing you had one of your own. Now your dreams had come true and you saw Penny was holding a yellow jumper with a P on it.

"Oh, thank you so much, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley! I didn't know you would make me a present, now I feel bad for not getting you something", you said.

Mrs. Weasley pulled you into a hug and simply replied: " I was told you always wanted one. Also you have had quite a hard time with your family lately, so I thought getting you something to show you that you are always welcome and loved here would be just right".

Penny also did her thank you's. It was apparent she mainly got one because otherwise she would have been left out, but to you that was just as nice as knitting you a jumper. At the Weasley's, no one got left behind, own caring family or not.

Soon, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley said goodnight and ushered you up the stairs, where you said goodnight to Bill and Charlie as well. When you got into your beds, Penny fell asleep almost instantly. You were very tired as well, but you didn't seem to be able to find any rest that night. Maybe it was because of this heartwarming gift, the excitement of being here. Maybe the fact that you were lying in your boyfriend's bed at the moment, staring at his ceiling, maybe the fact that even though the bed sheets were clean, they still faintly smelled of him, grass, honeysuckle and something so entirely Charlie, you didn't know how to describe. But mostly it was the thought of you nearly kissing earlier. The rest of the things didn't make it easier, though.

You tossed and turned and failed to sleep. At some point, you got tired of this. Pulling back the covers, you pulled your new jumper over your pyjamas. As quietly and carefully as humanly possible, you climbed over the sleeping Penny's bed in the darkness and exited the room. It drew you to the small window on the landing. The sight of snow silently falling calming you down, though you could not get Charlie out of your mind.

As if you had conjured him by your silent longing, he appeared next to you. For a second you only stood there, arms touching because of the tight space of the landing. Just enjoying the peace and rare silence at the burrow. Then you turned to face your boyfriend. Next to him, the beauty of the snow seemed dull and mundane. How could you marvel it, if the true miracle was standing right next to you, messy red hair, freckled skin and a jumper matching yours? You still couldn't quite comprehend how he could be yours.

"What are you doing here?", Charlie asked, already looking at you, his brown eyes full of affection.

"I can't fall asleep. It's... something is keeping me awake", you replied. You didn't want to admit that it was the thought of him haunting you.

"I... I also couldn't fall asleep, Y/N". Suddenly, his face was impossibly close to you, but at the same time not close enough. Around five centimetres away from him, you stared at Charlie in shock, butterflies in your stomach. You heard him draw in a deep breath. He only hesitated for a second, then his lips met yours.

It felt like heaven to you, finally being able to kiss the boy of your dreams. You kissed him back, wishing it would never end, the nerves of your lips and where he touched your cheeks singing in ecstasy, your heart beating as if it were to burst of love and joy, in a steady rhythm. Charlie, Charlie, Charlie.

When you pulled away, he held you in his arms. "I've wanted to do that for a long time. So bad actually, that it was the reason I couldn't fall asleep tonight", you finally admitted, knowing that was his reason as well in an instant.

So, you two just stayed there in your embrace, looking out of the window. It finally truly felt peaceful and a weight lifted from your heart, as you realised this was exactly where you ought to be, like home. And you knew, that if you could, you would never leave his arms ever again.

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x jacob's sibling #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley oneshot #charlie weasley imagine #hogwarts mystery fanfic #hogwats mystery #jacob's sibling #penny haywood #hphm charlie #weasley family #hp hogwarts mystery #hphm penny #bill weasley #hphm bill

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fangirlings-things · 5 years

Text

He's just too much — Part. 2

A/N: heyy guys, thank you for all the compliments about the first one so here I am, with part 2 of this fic! I'm thinking about a part 3 so, let me know what you guys think

Pairings: Michael Gray x reader

Warnings: a few curse words

Summary: Michael Gray is just too much for (Y/N) to not fall in love with him

Word count: 2234

Part. 1 Part. 3 Part. 4

"Well, well, well, look who's prettier than ever", John's voice echoed through the kitchen when you entered the room, making everyone that was there stare at you instinctively.

All the Peaky Blinders had been reunited to a formal event at Tommy's house, that had the intention of gathering money for his foundation for children. He had been hesitant to do this because the last time he tried the same thing, Grace, his wife, had been killed, taking a bullet that was meant for him. That destroyed Tommy for a long while but now, he was decided to let it all in the past and you couldn't be more proud of him.

As it was a formal party, you all had to dress properly so you had bought yourself a simple but beautiful black dress, that fit perfectly on your body and made you feel good. Truth was, that you hated using dresses. Being raised by a single father, since very little you realized that man's like clothes were so much more practical and comfortable. You always could be found using leather pants, boots and a white shirt. But in that day you couldn't escape your fate. You had promised Tommy to go, and so you would.

"Shut up, John", you said, blushing a little under the looks of all those men. You tried to ignore the fact that in the back of the room, leaning agaisnt the white walls, was Michael.

He was doing that sexy exotic thing again, the french inhale. The same thing he had done when you went to his house, looking for Polly. The day where he had kissed you and left you alone and feeling more confused than ever. It all had happened two weeks ago and since then, he had been doing his complete best to stay away from you and taking the hint of someone who clearly didn't want you around and regretted what had done, you stayed away. Gladly. You had decided that you wouldn't be pursuing this feelings, not anymore. Not after all the pain it had been causing you. So you ignored the way his eyes rested over you right now, and pretended he didn't even existed.

"Hey, I'm not mocking you. You're really very beautiful", John said with a gentle smile looking you up and down, clearly amazed by seeing you wearing female clothes for once. You smiled back to your friend, thanking him with only your eyes for trying to make you feel more confident and he winked at you, in a way that made you feel more than safe. You loved that idiot with all your heart.

"(Y/N) is dressed to impress", Arthur laughed while taking a sip of the glass he had on his hands, never losing the chance to tease you when he could, just like he would do to a younger sister. "Anyone you're planning on taking back home with you tonight, honey?"

Rolling your eyes at his words, you laughed while jumping a little and sitting up in the kitchens counter. "We'll see, Arthur. Who knows whom I may meet in this event"

"Oooh, someone's on fire tonight", the oldest Shelby brother said and everyone in the room including you laughed. But with only a quick glance to Michael, you saw that he didn't. In fact, he looked even more serious than before.

Fuck him, you thought to yourself angrily just in the moment where Tommy entered the kitchen, looking extremely handsome in his formal clothes. His expression was stern, and you knew that all his courage was being putted on making that event happen.

"Alright, you all know what you can't do. I've talked to Polly and she will be here as soon as it all begins to help me take care of everything", the black haired firmly stated, looking briefly but intensevely at every single person that was on the kitchen. "Just behave yourselves and it all will... (Y/N) why the fuck are you in my counter?" he asked with his forehead frowned, his bright eyes fixed on yours.

"I like the view from up here, Tommy" you said shrugging, secure that an answer like that coming from you would make him laugh, and it did. You felt proud of yourself in that moment for being able to make him feel a little better.

"Right, just don't stay here when the event starts, or I'll come and drag you out there myself" he gave you a warning playful look and only when you muttered "fine, dammit", he smiled again. "You're beautiful" he said afterwards making you smile brightly and with one more look to everyone, he left.

"Alright, who wants to do some smoke on the yard before all those fancy rich bastards get here?" John suggested and all the boys quickly agreed, making their ways to the kitchen door. Turning to you, he raised his eyebrows. "Want to finally give it a try, love?"

"I'll pass" you said in return and for knowing you so well, he was already expecting that response.

"See you later then, love. Save me a dance" he said and kissing your cheek, left with the other boys.

When you looked up, you saw that after all, you weren't now alone in the kitchen. Michael had stayed back, and was watching you with his eyes fixed on every part of your body. Allowing yourself to admire him for a moment, you realized that he was as handsome as ever, with a blue suit that made his blue eyes look even more bright.

Before you could think of an excuse to leave or something to say to start a conversation, he got rid of his cigar and walked towards you. You held your breath, already panicked, remembering all that had happened the last time he approached you when you two were alone. As much as you tried to deny, you wanted him again. Wanted him to kiss you as roughly as he did for the first time. Wanted to feel his hands on your hair, gripping at it firmly.

You watched completely still as he stood in front of you, getting between your legs and looking up to your eyes as you were taller than him from above the counter. Without any ceremony, his hands found your waist and with one quick movement, he got you standing in front him; now you were the one who had to look up, as usual. Your bodies were completely smashed against each other, your back pressed to the counter where you had been sitting before.

"You really look even more beautiful today" he said, his voice deep and serious.

You thought about saying something, thought of hopefully bringing up the night where he had kissed you and maybe get an explanation from him, but again, he didn't give you the chance. He just let you go like nothing had happened and walked out, leaving you again, breathless and annoyed. And above all, confused.

"I'll talk to Arthur, see if he hasn't been drinking too much. You'll be ok on your own?" John was still holding your hand, you two had just shared a dance together.

Tommy's house was full of rich important people, who he hoped would make donations to the foundation by the end of the night. You had been doing your best to smile and look pleased and as far as you knew, you had been doing a great job, because they had been smiling kindly at you either. Maybe, not all the rich people were bastards. Just maybe.

"I can take care of myself" you said to John, who smirked by hearing your words.

"Yeah, I know you can" he then let go of your hand and walked away, searching for Arthur between many strangers. You silently hoped, that he would find his older brother soon. If Arthur got drunk, things could go incredible wrong.

You were about to go talk to Isaiah, who was standing in a corner of the room as alone and looking out of place as yourself, when you saw something that made your heart shrink in your chest.

Michael was talking to a rich girl, that was wearing a glistening golden dress that matched the color of her blonde perfect hair. She was extremely beautiful, you couldn't deny that. And Michael apparently thought the same thing, because of the way his hands found her waist and how his mouth curled into a smile in her direction. He whispered something and her ear and she laughed, already head over heels for him.

And that hurt you. More than you imagined it would. Yes, you had seen Michael with other women since you met him but that was in the time he ignored you; the time where he didn't show you any emotions. Now that he had, you felt jealous. You felt pain, because you wished to be the one in his arms again. To be the only one that he would hold. But clearly, he didn't feel the same way.

You saw them brush their lips together in a kiss and without being able to hold back your emotions tears started to fall from your eyes, running through your face. You quickly ran out of that room, your vision clouded with tears. Suddenly, you collided with a heavy chest. Looking up, you saw Tommy. At first he looked confused but seeing the tears in your face, his expression became incredibly worried.

"(Y/N), what happened?" he asked, his hands on your arms, caressing them in a gentle way.

"I-I... I don't want to..." you stumbled in your words, trying to hold back the tears but you couldn't. All the feelings you had repressing were suddenly in the open.

"It's okay, it's okay" Tommy brought you close to his chest and hugged you tight, knowing that the best was to not make questions at the moment. You cried in his suit, feeling safe in that familiar spot, right there. He was family, the brother you never had, and his presence made you feel a little bit better. Taking only a step back to be able to look you in the eye, he cleaned the tears from your face his with thumbs. "Don't move, I'll just give some instructions to Polly to carry on the event and then you and me are going to be alone, ok?" when you nodded, lightly, he kissed your forehead. "I'm going to take care of you, little one" and with those words, he went into the room you had just left.

You stood there in that cold empty hall, avoiding a few peoples gaze that ended up to fall upon you when they passed by. You just wanted Tommy to come back soon and take you with him somewhere only you two could be. If someone could make you feel better, it was him.

"What you're doing here alone?" that deep ans stren voice filled your ears and turning around almost instinctively, you met Michael's eyes with yours. When he saw the tears in your face, something crossed his expression but you couldn't tell what it was. "You saw that" and by that you knew to what he was referring to. You waited, but he didn't say anything else.

"What the fuck do you want me to say, Michael, huh?" your voice was high, you could feel the hurt and anger pumping in your veins fastly. You wanted to beat him. Wanted to make him feel the pain he had been causing you for so fucking long. But you wouldn't, because after all, you loved him. And that was the pure unfortunate truth. "That yes I saw you kissing that blonde? That yes that's why I'm crying?"

"But why would be crying by seeing me with someone else?" he stated in return, his voice also raised in a higher tone. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were glued to yours.

And after hearing that, you laughed. A genuine laugh that expressed all your resentment. "Seriously Michael, can you be that stupid?"

"I don't know what the fuck you're trying to say, (Y/N)! You fucking said that you were going to my mother about some guy that night! So why are you crying like a bitch about seeing me kissing someone?" he shouted those words and all of them hurt you, every single one hitting you like bullets.

"You are the guy I was going to ask device about, Michael!" you shouted back, you're voice almost cracking completely in pain. "I'm in love with you bloody idiot but you never gave me a chance! You never even thought about making conversation with me! You just ignored me since the day we met and I hate you for that!"

When you stopped talking, you could see the impact that your words had on him. His expression, before angry and serious, was now breathless and schoked. There were tears forming in his eyes, making the blue in them seem a little less bright.

"What's happening here?" Tommy got back and looked at you two for a few moments, assuming a defensive position by your side, as always.

"Nothing" you responded, taking a deep breath. For some reason, seeing the tears in his eyes, made you feel even worst. "Me and Michael were just having a enlightening conversation"

Tommy grabbed your hand, and you happily let him take you away from there. Away from Michael.

#michael gray fanfic #michael x reader #michael gray x reader #michael gray imagine #michael gray #michael imagine #Michael fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders #x reader #fanfic #imagine

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quinn-tessence · 4 years

Text

Paint me like one of your French girls

Part 1

Summary: Your forensic sketch portrait leads the Police to suspect Arthur of the 3 subway murders, and it also leads you to becoming a full time artist, painting a particular clown you used to know. That clown soon becomes Joker, your primary source of artistic inspiration and you fall down a dangerous rabbit hole.

Length: 7k ish

Details: Slow-ish burner, mentions of blood and murder, severe mental conditions, a touch of Theodore Twombly, pre-smut intro.

11:11 PM. The white room at the police station was empty this time; you couldn't help but wonder if that was a good sign, or a bad one. The night shift was more agitated tonight than you remembered. It hurt you deep down to return and see your former colleagues, but you leaving had been for the best.

‘Listen to me, you know the drill. You do not discuss this with anyone. I need you to fill in for Garcia and sketch out a suspect from a triple homicide. Might be nothing yet, Colin and I will talk to the witnesses and send them to you one by one. Capisci?’ Blair sat you down in your old office corner before turning to the first witnesses.

The young couple were in shock, his hands bloody to the elbows, the girl's face had a delicate streak of dried blood on her temple. Blair would calm them down. She'd always been good with people and could read through them like a scanner. She'd been your superior back when you were still here, and that effect had worn out on you with time, thankfully. Leaving the force had brought you a bit closer together, and she dared pick your brain on investigative matters even after your departure. Not the standard detective routine, but she trusted you to keep to yourself and needed you to be a professional tonight.

The witness accounts were messy. You’d tried so many failed sketches until one shocked witness, a beautiful Asian brunette woman, laid it all out clearly. She had been in the same cart with all 4 of them, and had gotten out just in time. A few minutes later she heard 5 gun shots in the subway. After the metro left, screams came from the cart where 2 bodies were bleeding out, that young couple over there terrified at the sight.

‘There was this man wearing a full clown costume, had a raffia bag with him. His face was painted white but he had a huge red mouth from ear to ear. He was a few feet away, sitting in the cart. I was egging him to say something to those guys, they were throwing fries at me and he was just standing there, watching. But then he let out a giggle, followed by a burst of loud, sinister laughter, like he was having the time of his life. At that point I was more frightened by that than those 3 morons. He started choking and laughing hysterically, so I just left... They were idiots but they were drunk, they didn't deserve to die like that. It's awful…’

‘Can you describe his facial features to a sketch artist?’

‘Yeah I think I can, I’ll try'

‘Alright great, you're doing great. Please sit over there, Y/N will ask you some questions to get you started' Blair couldn't contain herself from checking the Asian beauty one more time, and Colin caught that immediately.

‘I'm sure she already took care of that herself. How this woman gets more pussy than all the guys in the precinct is beyond me.’

‘Colin, don't be a dick' you let out a chuckle.

‘I'm not, I’m pragmatic'

‘We both know you don't even know what that word means’

‘Nope, but it makes me look smart. How do you think I got this job?’ you had a soft spot for his moronic humor, but seemingly not soft enough.

A few open questions here and there were helpful. 10 years of forensic artistry had shut a door tight only to open a new one into switching vocations and painting to earn a better living. You were still at home in that precinct, first name basis with all from janitor to lieutenant. The girl leaned in to look at the other sketches but you couldn't allow her to become biased with what she saw. What a joke…

Very thin man, cheek hollows visible, creases on his forehead, delicate but protruding jawline. Not too young but not old. Couldn't be more than 35 but surely not under 30, creases were too pronounced. Wig with curly, plastic, green hair on the sides. White face. Triangles over his eyebrows and tiny ones on his eye bags.

Eyes? Big, for sure. He had been staring at the scene. They were big, but not dark though. Might have been blue or green, or maybe that was just the blue face paint reflecting the color, she couldn't be sure.

Nose? Big nose, almost like a warlock. Mouth? Painted red with long pointy edges almost reaching his ears, thin lips for sure. A red smile across his face, contoured in black liner. Somehow there were more creases on his face, but she couldn't remember.

‘More creases? As in, he was older than you thought?’

‘No, no. He had... I don't know, maybe it's just my imagination, he was a few feet away...’

‘Did you see a distinctive sign, a mark, a scar, a mole? Something that struck you?’

‘Other than his choked laughter...? I guess there was something but not a mole. Something under his nose.’

Ok let's leave that for now, *possible distinctive sign under nose* in your own notes.

Almost a full hour of questions later, ‘That's him, that's the man I saw. Maybe even thinner than this, he looked a bit sickly at first glance. Last thing I saw before switching carts were the drunk men moving towards the clown, he was still laughing, like he was tantalizing them. A few minutes later I heard the gun shots and the chubbier one running towards my cart, screaming, then he stepped out. I didn’t see the clown at all.’

After Blair escorted the Asian beauty out of the building, you were finally taking that step back to see the full picture. Holy shit.

Seeing the final result, how all the elements fit together, how your fingers worked better that night than any other night, it sent a cold chill down your spine. It was best to remain silent, considering what was really on the tip of your tongue. That's a beautiful clown, and he looks oddly familiar, doesn't he? That nose... you'd seen it before... Who in their right mind would be laughing chokingly in such a situation? Could he have had the same condition... as...

‘So what have we got? Are you gonna paint the Sistine chapel before you let us see it?’

‘Oh shut your tramp, Blair. You're not the boss of me anymore.’ You mockingly retorted, while handing in the sketch.

‘Goddamn it. That's one clown I wouldn't want to piss off. He's the stuff of my fucking nightmares, man, I didn't sign up for this shit.’

‘But Blair… being a police officer is all about facing your deepest fears and cleaning the world of scum. Such a noble profession, it's worth every internal conflict!’ Colin spurted in a theatrical, clearly sarcastic tone.

‘Don't give me none of that bullshit, Colin, this was my day off.' She threw the sketch on her desk for further processing. 'So, by those accounts, he's a psychopathic murderous clown. Fucking GREAT! The hysterical laugh, what the fuck was that all about?’

You had forgotten how much of a sailor Blair became when she was on duty. You loved that about her, though.

‘Maybe a condition? Why would a frail, goofy looking man antagonize 3 drunk young men late at night in a train?' Colin was really smarter than he let show, although that thought could easily be dismissed by his unfortunate choice in women. You could feel his eyes strolling over you as you boxed up Garcia's equipment and put it back in his drawer, preparing to head off for the night. It wasn't the first time, and it surely wouldn't be the last, you thought as you waved him good luck with the hunt.

Absently you'd lost yourself in the silence of the early morning Gotham streets as the taxi drove you home across the city. You had once known someone with a crippling laughing condition, ironically a Doctor of Laughter in his day job as a party clown, but that was a far stretch, wasn't it? The sadness in that man, how he would have tiny cackle episodes triggered whenever he was shy around you. He was endearingly odd and frail, but somehow your heart felt warmer each time you'd seen him. You'd get just as flustered when you stood in the same queue at the pharmacy a few times, where you'd see him stock up on medication enough for a whole ward, sometimes wearing his work costume with a name tag and a red flower pinned to his chest. But that was 6 months ago, before you moved from Old Gotham. What was his name, the one thought to accompany you to a very late night sleep.

Days went by with you locked in your apartment, half painted canvases leaning on the Roman arcade in your studio, your apron graffitied in shades of clown. You couldn't put a finger on it yet, but there was a feisty demon clawing naggingly under your skin, looking for a way out onto the canvas.

Blair had been right, this was the stuff of nightmares. What kept you up at night now was the same nightmare you'd had as a child, a terrifying, dangerous clown, only now it came from an opposite place. You'd lost your innocence long ago, but you'd never have thought clowns would haunt you in adulthood, with contrasting intent.

It didn't help that your only connection to real life were Blair and Colin stopping by to admire your work and pick your brain with this case. They were only scratching an itch that had already started tearing into your skin. After sketching him that night, you'd helped them here and there with an outside opinion that proved quite useful and lead them to an Arthur Fleck, living in Old Gotham. Arthur Fleck... you couldn't remember if he had ever told you his name... but why had you thought of him now, after all this time? You hoped you would not wrongfully confuse this murderous clown with a sweet, innocent, sick man because of the fucked up wiring in your brain. But the moment it dawned on you that the man they'd found was the same Arthur in your pharmacy line, your heart coiled wishing you could turn back time and mess up the sketch.

The self doubt soon came to a harrowing close the night you were glued to the TV in horror as Murray Franklin's brains trickled down the studio wall. Your heart had been in your throat since the moment Arthur's unmistakable laughter resounded in the recording. The build up of tension increased with each accusation his alter ego, Joker, was spewing about society, culminating in the most macabre joke of all time and a splash of Murray's blood on Joker's white makeup. Your bloodshot eyes were incapable of turning away from the horror show, the depressing reality snapped into the audience on live TV by this desperate man whom society had abandoned.

And so did you, in a way. You'd had a soft spot for his shy, delicate demeanor, you could have at least said goodbye before moving out. His crush on you had been adorably obvious, his fidgeting in your presence made it hard to miss.

The whole scene was sardonic. Macabre, satirical, painfully awakening. Joker's flavor of humor. This city was so god forsaken, it could turn the best people into madmen, and seeing it unfold on TV made it feel as if a bubble had just burst, long overdue. You remembered bitterly how broken hearted you had left the force, how your life long aspirations had turned to ashes in your mouth the moment you couldn't stand its deeply engrained corruption anymore. Maybe Arthur could have been a good listener in that dizzying whirl had you given him a chance, but you chose to uproot yourself without putting your own burdens on another. Why you suddenly felt sad and guilty, it made no sense.

You couldn't stop yourself from watching this colorful clown with blood splatters over his face. As horrifying as the Murray show had been, it sent a clear message. The desperation Gotham brought on its citizens had been heard, finally. It only took a televised execution to really listen.

Joker’s gritty dance was sinisterly endearing, he was hopping weightlessly to the camera to bid the audience good night as the cops tackled him face down on the ground. The transmission stopped and you could taste the pain in your gaping mouth, as Joker’s maniacal laughter still resounded through your temples. A frozen stiff body was caging in all your smoldering rage from spewing out, your mind in a raucous.

Riots had started on the street outside your apartment, nagging at your inner outcast that was already raked up and on edge. Your place was only a few blocks away from the TV station, so naturally the epicenter would be in this area. Regardless of being heavily ambivalent about the side you were about to be on, you couldn't miss the chance to be part of history. You'd fantasized of this city burning to the ground under its own willful ignorance of the people who needed care and protection the most. You descended into a sea of clowns and jokers, fuming cans mystifying the air as if in a dream, an ambulance crashing into a Police car just a block away. There was no containing that crunching curiosity, so your feet followed the pack, chanting Joker, Joker, Joker as you moved closer to the crash.

Adrenaline seeped down to your bones with each step you took closer to the car, rushing your way in the midst of the sea of revolting clowns that would have petrified you mere months ago. Now, you were one of them, watching as this feeble, injured man rose to his feet on the hood of the Police car, blazing red, blue, yellow lights reflecting onto him like a lighthouse in the midst of a storm. Shy at first, his shocked stupor was visible, no doubt surpassing yours entirely. This must have been just as surreal to him, to Joker, as it was to each person on Anderson avenue that night, but the chants were revering him as if a fire god of destruction.

On sight, your fury had melted into a different reaction, subconsciously aware that whatever outrage you might have felt was no match to his. He must have been in a world of pain, but his swift dance moves betrayed none of that. His open arms embraced the adoration, and adorned it with a smile smeared across his face in his own blood. All sound silenced in your mind, yet your heart galloped as the man turned with tears dripping from his eyes down a smiling bloody mouth. Heart wrenching, maniacal, beautiful, and you'd just witnessed pure, unadulterated, raw art. Out of all places, you were there, seeing him again, seeing him anew.

Is that you, sweet Arthur? you whispered to yourself, any distant sound heavily covered by chants and explosions. As much as you'd lied to yourself, having witnessed this resurrection had made you enter a dangerous game of chess with yourself. Your morals and once rock solid principles were now wobbling like a building on fire ready to collapse at any moment. The highly toxic thing you had for emotionally unavailable men had gone too far even for you.

As soon as Police sirens blazed close by, he jumped off the car and was escorted into the ambulance by the clowns who'd dragged him out, the crowd scattering rapidly. It felt cathartic, even though you knew you should be rooting for your friends instead, yet within a few seconds he was no more. What a bitter sweet epilogue as you watched the ambulance cut the corner. You could hold on to this little taboo, locked away in a tight cabinet of your mind, only to retrieve it when plunging into your deepest fantasies that had already been grafittied in the most acute shades of Joker.

This had been merely your creative prelude, fueling an existing obsession that had already begun consuming you during long nights of painting a sad clown. Disgust, fear, pity were at the far end of what you were feeling, your entire being conflicted, but your heart throbbed out of your chest. An unfamiliar feeling was clawing its way out from your core as you walked home absently, you needed to relieve it somehow. Was he really the Arthur you'd known before?

The next 3 months you'd spent producing your best work so far, grim, tragic, beautiful. Your muse was on every TV station headlined as the Clown Prince of Crime, dangerous psychopath, ruthless killer. But never again on camera fully, only glimpses of his green hair and red suit, progressively heavily guarded and sometimes in the company of drop dead beautiful women. Naturally, you thought, but rational thoughts didn't alleviate the knot in your heart, not one bit. All you could go on was the vivid memory of his macabre dance during the riots, and the faint memory of sweet Arthur looking up at you shyly. He now had his henchmen do his dirty work, and in just a few months he had become a destructive force in Gotham, putting this city to its knees and keeping your friends on their toes. It felt surreal to accept that this wild card, Joker, was really that sweet, vulnerable Arthur wrapped in a ravishing crimson clown costume, even with all the undisputed evidence. Had it not been for the unmistakable laughter on the recording, you would have easily refuted it.

Despite the media frenzy over the deranged murderous clown, his heists had been carefully calculated, only targeting mob banks. His shootouts resulted in the scum of Gotham getting shot dead, sometimes counting his men as well. Cops had been injured, but had thankfully recovered, which had oddly earned him points with Gotham PD. Somehow the Police was not taking all measures to apprehend him although they surely had enough on him for a life long Arkham membership.

‘Gotham mob getting cleaned out by a certified, former Arkham patient in a clown costume. Man, are you kidding me? Reality beats fiction every goddamn time! Let them be at each other's throats, we just watch from a distance to make sure they don't cause any civilian casualties. Not a bad deal, huh?’ Colin would joke over an off duty glass of whiskey on your couch.

You'd quarantined yourself in an imaginary cage with your muse for too long, and it was terrifying. Each time he'd lurk out in the streets just to deftly disappear again, your heart would gallop, and you'd paint incessantly. The art started selling excellently over the past few months as if there wasn't enough destruction and havoc in Gotham already, people wanted to hang it on their walls! Naturally, you started thinning your art exhibitions as a precaution to not becoming a bright signaling beacon before it was too late.

Catching yourself hiding your own canvases whenever your buddies would drop by had made you ponder. They'd noticed your... silent fixation on Gotham's Most Wanted, and Colin's dirty humor was soon taken seriously by Blair.

‘Shouldn't you paint something else too, girl?’

‘Well, I do…’

‘Oh of course you do! I must have missed those over the cram of clowns and jokers in this room.’

‘He makes me a lot of money, you know?’

‘I'm getting jealous, Y/N, you never gave me this much attention. I would have married you if you had, you're the only woman I’m not afraid of meeting when Blair's around. What about the porn versions, are you ever gonna show us those?’ You felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment, you would never make them public, especially to those two.

‘First, you're an idiot. Second, with that third grade humor, no wonder they fucking left you. Third, they wouldn't choose a woman over your sorry ass if you knew what you were doing.’

‘Uhhh, low blow! Y/N, give me some ice for this burn!’ Colin threw a pillow at Blairs face but she caught it deftly.

‘Remind me why are we friends? Girl, I get the money part and that's great, but 6 out of 10 paintings you make are of Joker. I really want to believe it's just for the money. This guy is a psychopath, he's the worst criminal we've seen in years, he's dangerous, deranged and highly intelligent, unlike our bestie over here. Do you understand? Don't play with fire.' That had been Blair's last advice to you on the subject, and as far as she was concerned, you had taken it.

They wouldn't get it. You sure as hell didn't understand why you couldn't stop painting him in the downfall of a burning Gotham, you only knew him from so many different accusatory accounts, you should have despised him. But no. You'd known Arthur. Every piece of information that reached you went through a dangerous filter, one that made you rationalize his criminal behavior to satisfy your yearning for him, even if you were painfully aware he had the most luxurious company at his side at the snap of his fingers.

Along with covering the canvases, you'd also thinned down on your 'expert opinions' when they came by, even as they continued expanding on the details of his psychological profile, his narcissistic temperament and the ruthless murders, as if to snap you back to reality. Somehow Joker had become the poster boy for all criminal organizations in this city, including the legal ones. His criminal profile had been hyperbolized to fit every trick in the book, burying the Police in paperwork. A bunch of hypocrites your friends were, adorable, caring, dedicated and you loved them to bits, but hypocrites nonetheless. You were not even in the same ballpark as obsessed with this clown as they had been of late.

The little time you spent out of the house only made you despise the city even more. One Thursday evening you returned from your weekly errand to a living room reeking of cigarettes, window closed, and your Joker portraits unraveled, the white sheets at the feet of your easels. You were always careful to empty the ashtray and leave a window creaked for airing out. But the ashtray was half full, three cigarette buds a shade of red you didn't own. Your limbs petrified, your nervous system on edge, your sensory perception at its peak. On the coffee table, a card. A Joker card. On it in a messy handwriting:

‘Should I take you out for dinner now that we're so intimately acquainted with each other?’

The self preservation instincts had finally kicked in, better late than never. Shaking, you reached for your hidden gun and searched all rooms with lights on everywhere. Calling Blair, you stopped for a second. You looked at your intimidating magnum opus, all your fears and anxieties, your deepest most unknown desires projected on canvas. His facial complexion smirked nonchalantly as you stumbled around your own house, desperately trying to grasp at the rational thought of calling the Police and getting 24h surveillance. But you didn't.

Diligently you shut all windows and doors locked tight. Gun under the pillow, you barely closed an eye that night, torn between a feverish curiosity and crippling fear of death, but those feelings quickly diluted into each other. It wasn't Joker reaching out that petrified you, it was your own utterly irrational reaction to that calling. You wanted to let go into this so badly it made you sick to your stomach.

Nothing for days. You couldn't understand what happened and conferring with your friends on the matter was less than ideal. They'd actually been busier than usual lately, you'd just realized. Yet that initial fright had come and gone, to leave a feeling of anxiety that nothing was going to happen. This was crazy. Every fiber was calling out on the red flags, but you'd just throw some white paint on them and turn them pink.

One week later, you'd ran your usual errand but you'd forgotten to check if your windows had been shut tight. You hadn't realized until returning home to another cigarette scented scenery, with another card, same spot, and a box next to it.

‘Well well well. That was clear enough for me. Saturday 9 PM, meet me downstairs. Wear this.’

You were ashamed. Ashamed and disappointed with the swarm of butterflies in your stomach. In the box, a Pin up red dress. Within seconds you were already feeling yourself through its fabric, another seemingly thoughtless action on your part. One could actually call it conservative if the color wasn't so damn alluring. Your size, your style, or maybe the style you'd never dared wear out in public. The bastard must have gone through your dressing...

Utterly nerve wrecking and inflammable, and you were mad for simply even entertaining the thought, but those quick sands went deep and too fast for comfort. The temptation that had teased and tortured you for so many months was now palpable, the only way to tame the urges was to just stop fighting. You'd lost your mind entirely for taking it seriously, and yet you did, without a shred of hesitation. Seriously enough to spend all Friday getting dolled up from head to toe, reveling in your little secret. If I'm about to die, then at least I should be impeccable.

On your way back you'd noticed a brisk in your step, you couldn't wait to hop in the shower and unwind the tension in your bones. One more day to go, no reason to become flustered just now, even if you’d spent all day thinking about the feel of his skin against your fingertips, the taste of his mouth, his weight on your body. It was driving you rabid for him, Arthur's eyes flashing before yours with every blink.

Home was cozy. As you left it. Good. Within a few seconds, your body moved to Sinatra's tune as you undressed sensually, already feeling him under your skin. Your covers were not the only ones going down tonight, you unraveled your magnum opus and danced sensually to it, just as it made you feel - sexy, seductive, wanted. Somehow it felt like appropriate preparation. You were an artist after all, you could express yourself through dancing just as well, and your moves poured naturally at the lascivious thoughts going through your mind.

Within minutes, hot water splashed and trickled down every inch of your body, your palm cheekily washing your shame as your thoughts sunk into the deepest abyss. An overflow of anticipation coupled with a long lasting frustration made you go a bit further than usual. You thought that getting your release on your armchair, spread out in full sight of his portrait, would protect you from yourself tomorrow. Just the thought of coming for him felt like lighting a fuse that was strapped to your body.

Stepping back into your studio, the towels fell at your feet to remain naked once more in front of your spectacle of color. Freshly lit cigarette in hand, smoke blanketing the canvas, trickles of water dripping from your hair down your spine, your foot bouncing giggly to Sinatra.

‘Don't turn around.’

An acute sense of fear jolted through your bones. Instantly paralyzed, absolute horror and shame engulfed you, limbs contracting instinctively. A warm breath was brushing your neck, a vaguely familiar deep husky voice filling your senses as a lightning strike. A choked shriek was the only response your body could muster in this utter panic.

‘Shhh. I'm not going to touch you, I promise. Let me do the talking’ the voice whispered softly.

Your eyes were frantically trying to catch a glimpse in the dim light, but their focus inevitably returned to the smirking portrait.

‘This is not the city to leave your windows open like that, you know. There's dangerous criminals out there.’

You Adam's apple was clawing its way out of your throat, your brain alit like a Christmas tree as you felt him slowly take off his jacket and place it on your wet shoulders, gently restoring whatever shred was left of your decency.

‘Look at me asking you to put clothes on. Hmm. As much as I loved the surprise, I did show up uninvited and I don't want to rob you of your dignity in your own home.’

A hand reached out to yours and re-appropriated the half burned cigarette, the sound of inhaling smoke filling your ear.

‘What do you get when you cross a talented artist with a city that burns under its own demise? You get an invitation. With your Police escort on speed dial, one could be forgiven for holding their breath at the outcome. I was beginning to turn blue!’

That cigarette was being viciously assaulted at the back of your ear, the smoke deeply exhaled in your direction, yet the smell of fresh hair dye was overpowering.

‘You see, I'd been thinking. What's her reaction going to be when she sees this new me for the first time? With what I have planned, I would've robbed myself of that moment... so I decided that I should pay you a more... intimate introductory meeting, on your own court, where you feel more comfortable…’

Was that… a shy chuckle you'd heard?

‘What am I to do now. I came here to introduce myself and put an actual face to those portraits before our first date, but now I’m sure the last thing you want is to face me. Ntz ntz ntz.’

He wasn’t wrong. Regardless of how fiercely you wanted to see him with your own eyes, you were utterly embarrassed at the state he'd found you in. Another cigarette lit up, burning as intensely as your core at the sound of his gentle voice, smoke blown towards the canvas before passing it back to your hand covered in the unmistakable crimson trademark.

‘Here, this might help you unwind, you're going to pop like a string any second now. I promise I won't touch you. I would have kept my jacket on if I had other intentions, you know?'

He was right, so you willingly accepted the cigarette and took out your fright and frustration on it entirely.

‘Hmm... let's start over. Hi Y/N. It's been a while since we last saw each other. Around a year if my memory still serves me. Let me ask you, did you start painting me before or after the Murray show? That is me, I presume. The resemblance is... uncanny.’

‘B... before', words stumbled off your lips.

‘How so?’ he chuckled inquisitively.

‘I did my buddy a solid and sketched your face after your first killing spree.’ You wished you had lied about that, but something told you Joker had done his homework before stopping by.

‘Oh so you're the one who started it all?’

‘Well, you appeared on TV a couple weeks later.’

You were a trembling leaf underneath his warm red blazer, intoxicated by that faint whiff of cologne and gasoline it gave off, his deep husky voice purring in your right ear, the smell of ammonia so acute you could taste it. You must have been sick the day they'd trained your precinct on how to face one’s most ardent desire in the flesh, also a murdering psychopath.

‘I had nothing else to lose. The Police was after me already, you witty thing.’

‘They're off your back now, aren't they?’

‘They are indeed. Well not publicly, but yeah. And... may I ask how that came to be?’

You had to regain some level of control in this situation; his tantalizing was incapacitating, but he’d indeed done you the courtesy of meeting you on your court, if he was being honest.

‘Is this an interrogation, Joker?’

‘Urgh. Feisty.’

‘Not at all... I'd like to know where I stand. I am naked in my home, fresh out of the shower, admiring my art. You sneak in, a total stranger, catching me as red-handed as I could possibly be...’

‘Well ... for that I should have given it 10 more minutes…’ he chuckled softly, proud of his witty joke.

A giggle burst out of you uncontrollably. How was he making you feel comfortable in this insanely flustering situation? Your privacy had been invaded by Gotham’s most wanted criminal, and yet you were sharing a cig and a giggle. You were just as certifiable as him for ignoring all the blazing red flags.

‘… I take that as a yes… And to be fair, I’m not a total stranger, am I? Your two friends seem to share an awful lot of sensitive information with a civilian, don't they know they could be putting you in harm's way?’

He had done his homework. Crimson red flag. And even with that knowledge, he had still broken into your home. You couldn't help but wonder what drove him to be here, breathing down your neck and flaming you up in the process.

‘I thought I heard you say you wouldn't touch me.’

‘And I am a man of my word. As a matter of fact, I’ve given your friends a real reason to justify their paychecks, on the other side of the city. I couldn't afford an interruption of such an... intimate moment, could I?’

‘You do that often?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Hm. And did that start before or after I began painting you?’

‘Good question. Surely after… if you remember me back in the day, I wasn't really the type of man to have access to tracking down a person, and you'd disappeared into thin air. But here you were all this time, naked and flushed in front of my portrait. Why's that?’

What a way to steer the conversation and drive straight through your guard. A stark reminder of who was in control, in case you had forgotten.

‘I ... I was preparing for tomorrow.’

Another shy chuckle brushed over your ear.

‘Why, what's tomorrow? I thought it was just our first date. It wasn't mentioned in the dating rulebook that it would contain indecent exposure', he said in a sly, pout tone.

Another giggle made you roll your eyes at yourself for falling so easily into his crafty traps. This devil was raking you up like a witch on a stake.

‘We must have the same edition of that rulebook. That's why I was preparing tonight.’

‘Ohhh, now I see. Well I wouldn't presume to interrupt you.’

‘And yet, you did.’

‘I know one thing. You're surely not the shy Arthur I used to know.’

‘Well well. Aren't you surprising? I did indeed. I should have just stayed in that dark corner like a predator stalking his prey. I'm pretty good at that. Instead, I fought myself to maintain a shred of decency, like the upstanding citizen that I am. Or maybe... I just wanted to break the rules and observe more closely. Who knows?’

Wearing that jacket or not, you were naked and exposed. You just couldn't resist him although your conscience was Blair-ing out to run the other way. He was so close you could feel the warmth of his body, all you wanted was to feel his arms around you, his lips on your face, the grip of his palms. He knew very well what he was doing to you.

‘No, I am not. Not right now at least. Funny enough, that's who came in through that window, but I couldn't help it when that towel dropped to the floor. How wise of you to not start dancing just yet. To think I had come here to corrupt you…’

‘How ... long have you been here for?’ your heart galloped through your chest.

‘Long enough to know you haven't been home for a while. I had my lines ready and all, but you walked through that door and out of your clothes so fast, my oh my, I forgot every word. Hmm.' He took another long drag of the cigarette. 'So now, seeing how I’m such a man of my word, I'd better leave before I break my promise.'

His purring husky voice had given you the most intense session of muscle clenching all this time, your whole body aching with fever, afraid of how you'd react when he'd finally put his hands on you. You’d dreamed about this in so many ways, all those lonely nights and endless possibilities, but him leaving you before even touching you had not been one of those scenarios. Was that relieving, or painfully frustrating? You were such a hot mess already, your mind in muddy waters.

‘Breaking my first promise to you would be a really bad start, even if I can't believe myself for not choosing the alternative. Especially... after that shower scene...’

No no no, you felt a whimpering voice begging at the back of your mind. Shameful to the core for who you identified with, but maybe he was simply bringing out a side that you were tired of pretending you were not. He wasn't about to step through that window pristine, like a perfect gentleman on a first date. You wanted… no, needed something from him that would help forget the shame he caused with catching you red-handed.

‘And what would the alternative be?’ you slightly turned your head towards his, barely grazing a glance of his profile, so close you could almost taste his ragged cigarette breath as he leaned to your ear slowly.

‘… I'd touch you on your face. Just the tips of my fingers. I'd put my cheek to your cheek, rub it so softly’, the tone of his voice had dropped an ocrave into a tantalizing purr, irrevocably seeping beneath your skin.

‘... would you kiss me?’

‘I would...", the clarity of his words betraying a wide smile your eyes couldn't see, but your ears could not mistake. 'I'd take your head into my hands, and kiss the corner of your mouth…’

‘Go on…’ muscles contracted with no control, your mouth having a mind of its own.

‘I'd run my fingers down your neck to your chest... I’d kiss your breasts...' a groan cut through the maddening silence of the room straight to the pinnacle of your core. 'I’d put my mouth on you... I’d taste you... ohhh I’d taste every drop of you...’

‘Oh god...’ an undisciplined moan broke free without reserve.

‘And only then I’d slowly put myself into you, all the way inside you...' with every word he'd gotten closer to your ear, his breath turning your entire skin to prickles, within and without. 'I’d make you feel wanted and adored and aching to come for me… cause that's how I imagine you every night…’

He was panting just as much as you were, although savoring every whimper from your lips, even more so as you had been biting them in a failed attempt to control yourself. Hearing his whispered confession had gotten you visibly dizzy, your hyperventilating lungs a delicious treat he was savoring as he took in a deep breath of your hair's scent.

‘Now you tell me… what sort of a gentleman would I be if I did that? The purpose of this rendezvous was to make us less tense for tomorrow. I guess the joke was on me', he took a small step back as if struggling with the same attempts at self control.

Holy shit, your body was a trembling leaf amidst a tropical storm, he had drenched you without a single touch. Never had you felt more helpless in your life, and yet so oddly liberated.

‘How thoughtful of you...’

‘You have no idea... But before I go, one small favor. After I leave, promise me you won't finish what you started.’ You needed a second to descend from the high into the realization of his ask.

‘And why would I do that?’ The sneaky bastard had just checked your king, any advantage swept from under your feet with one shrewd demand.

‘I want to spend the night thinking of you flushed, naked and wet. And all that while your body yearns for what it can't get.’

‘Will you keep an eye on me to make sure?’ your eyes had instinctively rolled at the impertinence of this clown pretenting to protect your dignity, when he'd just planted the most salacious thoughts in your mind.

‘Perhaps.’

‘Will you be keeping the same promise too?’

‘Kitten, I’m keeping a promise right now. I think that's enough for one night', he chuckled his check mate.

‘I'll give your privacy back for tonight. I trust you'll be a good girl. Now if you'll excuse me, it's a bit chilly outside so I’ll need this back. Au revoire, mademoiselle’

What sort of a criminal keeps his promises?! You could taste the erotic agony he was letting you simmer in as he put the red blazer back on and backed up to the window, his shoes screeching the floor, your skin burning at the thought of his last gazes over it.

Off he was in an instant, as nimble as a cat. Tire screeches resounded shortly after his descent from your window, a black SUV removing him from the premise before you could see his face. Only a few glimpses of the distant shape of his body, the red suit and green hair adorning him so alluringly. As you turned around, the portrait of him awaited with that sly devilish smirk you had worked so hard to capture, the clock above pointing 11:12 PM.

#joker fanfiction #joker fanfic #joker x you #joker #Joaquin Phoenix #joker x reader #arthur fleck #joker arthur fleck

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coinofstone · 4 years

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5x12 The Diamond of the Day pt 1

Final two episodes! Big finale! Why am I making myself cry in the middle of the afternoon! Both eps in this post.

I do love that they made Arthur a sore loser

Enter treacherous white woman #2. Srsly it was lazy writing when they did it for Mordred, it's worse now with Gwaine.

I do love the actual Round Table war room discussion but a) why isn't Merlin seated at the round table and b) why does Leon have so much goddamn faith in Camelot's walls? Like??? You literally said the same thing last year and yet Camelot *did* fall when Agravaine brought an army through the tunnels!

Poor Aithusa. Kid's had a rough life.

I do love Arthur responding to Merlin presenting him with all his supplies ready - which he prepared without his magic mind you - with suspicion 😂

But then he calls Merlin a coward and it's sad

Katie has such a great voice. That entire thing in the cave from her taunting to her laughter to the spell, it just just beautifully played.

Whole ass battle to prepare for and Arthur is just walking around moping cuz Merlin isn't there

So, Merlin's father-vision telling him he's magic itself and he just needs to believe in himself to get his magic going again, does this mean he *didn't* need to go to the cave to get it back? Cuz it seems like he needed to recharge in the cave itself, his injuries were healed when he woke up. That seems like magic cave stuff to me.

Also that "always have been and always will be" - I'm taking to mean 'always have been' in the sense that since he's 'magic itself' even before he was born, his magic existed in other, intangible forms, like we are all stardust etc. But now that he is, he will always be, aka he will not die.

Arthur waking up with his wife in his arms and Merlin's name on his lips, jumping out of bed to act on dream-info.

Balinor telling Merlin to trust in what will be.... like bitch that is literally not how this ends.

5x13 The Diamond of the day pt 2

You know that gif of the cat knocking everything off the table? That's literally Merlin shooting lightning at everyone from his perch on the ridge.

I have a lot of snarky things to say about Merlin coming out of the cave in full Dragoon gear and riding a horse instead of teleporting like the other witches but I'ma keep that to myself.

Mordred is a bitch and Aithusa has terrible aim. At least Aithusa's loyalty to Morgana makes sense.

Arthur said oh shit I'm magic - oh wait no it's that old man again

He also straight up "No! Bad dragon!"-ed Aithusa

Y'know, for all I've watched this episode and screamed about Arthur's death, I don't think I've ever focused on the exact moment he gets stabbed before.

Mordred catches him from behind and he meets it, no fault there. But as soon as he realizes his assailant is the knight who turned on him and joined Morgana, what does he do? HE LOWERS HIS FUCKING SWORD

He leaves himself wide fucking open and vulnerable and Mordred seizes the opportunity. I understand wanting the moment of recognition for Arthur, but on what planet is a trained warrior going to drop his sword mid-attack because he recognizes his attacker as a dude who only just recently decided to forsake him? It's soooooo dumb

There was a whole sequence a few episodes back where Mordred and Arthur are sparring, the point of it was to show that Mordred has become a skilled swordsman. So what exactly was the point in having Mordred run Arthur through as soon as Arthur idiotically lets his guard down? This should've been a meticulously choreographed sword fight, with Mordred getting the upper hand and sticking Arthur properly. Not this nonsense. Look at Arthur's FACE! Oh, Mordred... 👉👈 do you maybe wanna be friends again- STAB ... guess not

Uther's been rolling in his grave but he's taking an extra tumble watching Arthur forget all his skills and training in that moment.

I do appreciate Arthur getting Mordred back though. Like that moment of merciless anger followed by the hurt and regret playing on Arthur's face, warring with surety and responsibility. It was good.

I've rewatched the big confession scene about 16 times just now.

I don't quite understand why Merlin took Arthur to the woods to begin with. Instead of bringing him to the med tent in the battlefield or back to Camelot. What was the reason?

Merlin saying it feels strange (to use magic freely in front of Arthur) and him just going 'yeah' completely deadpan makes me laugh every time.

I really feel like Arthur's head should be elevated at a further incline if he's going to be fed.

Gaius refusing to outright expose Merlin as the sorcerer but nonetheless letting Gwen figure it out on her own warms my heart.

My God Arthur is sitting there dying, feeling betrayed about his best friend 'lying' to him, and still he can't stop himself from looking at Merlin's mouth.

Percival summoned MUSCLE POWER

Hey um random but why does Gwaine even know where Merlin and Arthur are headed? Why would Gaius tell him?

Arthur looks at Merlin so lovingly after he's killed Morgana 😭😭

And now he's literally grabbing at the man's hand 😭 "just hold me, please"

That's gotta be the gayest death scene in television history. If you can watch that without thinking Arthur puts his hand on the back of Merlin's head because some part of him wants to bring him down for a kiss, or that "just hold me, please" is in any way shape or form a 'bros' thing, and certainly not at all an intentional mirror/callback to Isolde dying in Tristan's arms, then I'm afraid you are what we professionals refer to as a dumb-as-nails fucknugget, more commonly phrased as 'willfully ignorant'.

"All that you have dreamt of building has come to pass" yeah except for the whole, y'know, magic still being illegal thing.

I've said this before, but, while I'm sure there was a determined intention to have Arthur die in his armor, probably in some kind of attempt to make sure the audience knows he's died a warrior's death, I *really* think it was kinda stupid that Merlin never removed it, despite Arthur being weak, despite the fact that there was something like five days between him getting stabbed and him actually dying, despite that for the duration of that time they were traveling or hiding out. Merlin managed to produce a cloak to put on Arthur, why did he need the full armor on that whole time? Like even if they left the chainmail on, those plates on his shoulder were just getting in the way, and it looked quite uncomfortable.

Also not for nothing but Lancelot got like, every flower in the forest surrounding lush verdant greens in his death boat, Arthur gets a bunch of sticks.

It suddenly occurs to me, watching this now, that the reason Leon/Percival is such a common side pairing in Merthur fics, is because these two motherfuckers are the only original Knights of the Round Table to survive the series. 🤦‍♀️ I dunno how I failed to notice that before now. My stupidity amazes me.

I'm *really* glad they decided to do this scene with Gwen wearing the Pendragon red dress instead of the black mourning dress. Yes she looks fabulous in it but it's more the symbolism than the 'reality' - with Gwen wearing her house's colors it represents a continuation rather than a finality. Camelot will go on, Gwen will undoubtedly end the war on magic and with Morgana dead (and frankly, I think by now she already brought about the death of all the angry incel type rulers in Albion) there stands to reason her reign will begin with a period of peace, possibly longer than Arthur's. We kind of have to assume that the 'time the poets speak of' is, inevitably, Gwen's reign - which only came about through Arthur's death. It's a little bit toooo subtle in my opinion, but at the same time, I understand the need for the focus on Merlin and Arthur - after all, this show was their journey - not leaving much time to focus on Gwen and Camelot in the aftermath of Arthur's death.

I will just say, the first time I watched this that fucking truck scared the ever living shit out of me. I also just immediately, viscerally hated that scene and declared it invalid - but I think it was because the truck made me jump out of my skin. It has since grown on me, particularly once I started reading 'Arthur Returns' fic.

Everything beyond this point is post-series spec and headcanon, so if that's not your jam you can exit safe in the knowledge that as usual, if there's anything worth commenting on in the S5 extras, I will create a separate post!

For those interested, my go-to post-series fic is We Begin Again by katherynefromphilly I fully headcanon this series as the continuation of the series.

I have a lot of thoughts about Gwen and Merlin post-Camlann.

For one, poor fucking Gwen. She's lost her father, her brother, and her husband, all by what, age 30? That's rough. And who knows what happened to her mom, that was pre-series and I don't think it was ever mentioned.

Merlin, dear god poor Merlin. First of all, I just wanna say straight off that my instinctive headcanon about Merlin was that he never returned to Camelot. I couldn't really say why exactly. I just don't think he could stand being there after Arthur's death. But practically speaking, Merlin's still got Aithusa to deal with, that dragon needs some godsdamned house training asap. He's still the last Dragonlord, it's reasonable to assume he'd immediately take that on considering Aithusa is partially responsible for Arthur's death (the sword Mordred killed Arthur with, only succeeded in killing Arthur because it had been forged in Aithusa's fire-breath) so he's either going to attempt to train the bad behaviors out of Aithusa, or...well...

The only thing is, I do not believe Merlin would abandon Gwen, or Gaius. So my hc is inherently flawed. I do think Merlin probably spend a couple months with his mum, and I do think he ultimately settled near lake Avalon waiting for Arthur's return.

But I do wonder, what must their relationship have been like? Gwen, surely, would've sought his guidance in establishing laws governing the use of magic. And surely, peace cannot last indefinitely, so Merlin absolutely would've defended Camelot and protected Gwen. There's just no way he could've completely turned his back on them, but I doubt he could bear living in Camelot. And Gwen is both strong and practical enough to get on without him there 24/7, even though I'm sure she'd miss him.

I also think she would've found love again. Whether with Leon, as many people hc, or someone else not in the series.

ANYWAY.

Thanks to everyone who came on this journey with me. I will post comments on the extras if I have anything worth saying - and I think I'll do a master post linking all these episode posts after I clean them up once I get time to sit at a computer and do so. Until then! 💙💚

(Gif source) (h/t @shut-up-merlin)

#bbc merlin #bbc merlin spoilers #merlin #merlin spoilers #merthur #onceandfuturerewatch #5x12 #5x13 #5x12 the diamond of the day pt 1 #5x13 the diamond of the day pt 2 #bbc merlin 5x12 #bbc merlin 5x13 #merlin 5x12 #merlin 5x13 #the diamond of the day #the diamond of the day pt1 #the diamond of the day pt2 #for the love of Camelot

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always-horny-for-fictional-men · 4 years

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La Lune Cache Un Côté Sombre Part Two

WARNING: THIS FIC HAS TRIGGERING ASPECTS. TALK OF SUICIDE, SUICIDE ATTEMPTS, MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ABUSE, MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE, AND MENTAL DISORDERS. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T CONTINUE IF YOU THINK YOU MIGHT NOT BE COMFORTABLE WITH THESE SUBJECTS.

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: IkeVamp x OC/ Dazai x OC

Rated: E for Explicit

Type: Full Fic/Angst (fluff and some smut later on)

Word Count: 1561 words

The girl reminded him of himself. She was just like him in the weeks before his own death. That was concerning to him. He would have to keep an eye on her........

The man led me to a room, where the gentleman from earlier was sitting in a chair. He stood up, smiling.

"Hello again, mademoiselle." I inclined my head, dug his pocket watch out of my pocket, and stiffly held it out to him.

"You dropped this." His eyes widened slightly.

"I was unaware that I dropped it. Thank you for returning it." With the same gentle hesitation as when he put my earring back, he took the pocket watch from me. He then looked at the man beside me.

"Sebastian, why don't you gather everyone in the dining room? We will be just a minute." The man- Sebastian- bowed and left the room. He's the butler. I almost wanted to laugh. A butler named Sebastian? What a cliché.

"Please, sit. We have much to talk about." The gentleman gestured to one of the chairs nearby. I took my backpack off and sat down, tucking it between my legs.

"I am le Comte de Saint-Germain. You may call me Comte." I nodded absently, fidgeting with a loose thread on my sleeve.

"Selene."

"You must have questions, Selene." He crossed his legs, his folded hands resting on his knee.

"What is this place?"

"This is my home. And it is also the home of several great men from across history." I furrowed my brows. Is this him trying to be cryptic?

"What do you mean by that?"

"Exactly what I said. Everyone living in this house has made a dent in history, one way or another."

"Get to the point, 'Comte'." I heard à voice coming from behind me. I turned around to see a man with burnished golden eyes and long, messy brown hair leaning in the doorway. Comte sighed.

"I was getting there, Leonardo." Leonardo chuckled and walked over to us.

"Nice to meet you, cara mia."

"I'm not your darling", I snapped at him. He grinned, amused. His jovial mood was grating on me.

"Selene, this is one of the men I was talking about. This is Leonardo DaVinci." My eyes widened.

"That's impossible….. Leonardo DaVinci died hundreds of years ago….." Either they were lying to me or something more…. mystical was going on.

"I'm not dead, at least I don't think I am", he joked. Comte leaned towards me.

"I am telling the truth, ma cherie. I must also tell you that we are no longer in the 21st century. By going through that door, you have traveled back in time to the cusp of the 19th century." He's not lying. In that moment, everything felt like it was crashing down on me. I looked down at my lap.

"Great. Absolutely fantastic," I muttered.

"Cara mia?" I looked up at the men in front of me. They were both wearing similar looks of concern.

"Are you ok? I mustered a slight smile in an attempt to mask the dark feelings bubbling up inside of me.

"I'm fine. So am I stuck here or is there a way to go back?" I was asking the obvious question because I felt like I had to ask, not that I wanted to ask.

"Well, the door opens once a month. You could go back then but I get the feeling that's not what you want, is it?" I met Comte's eyes and studied them for a moment. I shook my head slightly.

"Not really, no….."

"In that case, you can stay as long as you like. Anything you need, I can provide." Guilt and anxiety welled up in the pit of my stomach, making me feel almost sick.

"You- you don't have to do that. I don't want to be a burden, I can-" I was cut off by Leonardo.

"Cara mia, you won't be a burden." Comte nodded.

"I'm always willing to bring in another resident." I was about to say something whe Comte turned to Leonardo and said,

"I'm sure that Sebastian has gotten everyone together by now. Why don't you escort Selene to the dining room? I will be there in a minute, I just need to finish something up." Leonardo nodded and started walking towards the door.

"Come on, cara mia. I'm sure everyone is excited to meet you." I sighed, got up and turned towards the door.

"Oh, and Selene?" I looked back at Comte, who had a serious look on his face.

"Just know that everything you learn in the next couple days is the truth." Uneasy, I nodded and followed Leonardo out of the room.

Comte watched her leave, apprehensively. There was something in her eyes that he did not like. He had seen that look before. He had seen it in the eyes of at least one of his residents. Pulling out some paper, he started writing.

As soon as we started walking down the hallway, Leonardo started pestering me.

"So, what were you up to before you got here?" I shrugged, my eyes trained on the carpeted floor.

"Just finishing up my bucket list." Leonardo raised an eyebrow.

"It wasn't a very long list. Going to the Louvre and seeing the Mona Lisa was the last on the list." Leonardo paused.

"The last….. What were you going to do after you finished?" I looked up at his face, his expression was unreadable.

"I don't see why that is any of your business." Before he could reply, the man from before walked out of a doorway nearby. Sebastian, his name is Sebastian.

"I was just about to go get you. Everyone is getting restless, come." Sebastian ushered us into the most extravagant dining room I had ever seen. It was full of people, all of whom looked very different. I was sure that I wouldn't forget any of their names.

The moment we walked through the door, every eye turned our way. I froze, wishing that I could hide. I felt a hand on my shoulder and stiffened. I glanced up at the owner of the hand, Leonardo. Removing his hand, he searched my eyes with a silent 'are you ok?' I gave him a small nod in return and he turned to everyone in the room.

"This is Selene, she's going to be staying with us for a while. No funny business. Especially not from you, arthur." The man closest to me with dark blueish hair and- holy crap he has nice eyes- he made a noise of disappointment.

"But that's half the fun!" He was grinning ear to ear. "Arthur Conan Doyle, love. Pleasure to meet you."

That name rang a bell in my head. I pulled my backpack off my shoulder and started rummaging through it. I pulled out one of my books and held it out to arthur.

"Like, this Arthur Conan Doyle?" He took the book from me and studied it. a look of surprise crossed his face. He started laughing.

"I like you. We just met and you're already surprising me." The pink haired man nearby peeked over Arthur's arm at the cover of the book.

"The White Company?" Arthur slung an arm around the mans shoulder.

"Why yes, Newt. It's one of my less popular works." Newt shoved Arthur away from him in disgust.

"You could tell me that without touching me, thank you." He took the book from Arthur and handed it back to me. "I'm Issac. Issac Newton. Please, for the love of god, don't call me Newt."

I nodded and murmured a thanks. Next, a man with dark hair and teal eyes spoke up.

"I am Napoleon Bonaparte. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask." I gave him a small smile. He seemed nicer than my textbooks always made him out to be.

"Where's Jean, Napoleon?," Leonardo asked. Napoleon sighed.

"He's hiding again. He doesn't like gatherings like this." I raised an eyebrow.

"Who's Jean?" Napoleon tilted his head to the side.

"Jean D'arc. You'll meet him soon enough. He does come out of hiding every so often." I raised my other eyebrow. Jean D'arc is a man? Why am I not that surprised? a haughty man with white hair spoke up.

"He's probably hiding up in the attic again." He turned his violet eyes on me.

"Wolfgang amadeus Mozart." As soon as he told me his name, he looked away. I would have assumed it was out of embarrassment if his facial expression did not change. The next guy was almost bouncing up and down in his chair.

"Ooh! Me next!" He gave me a smile that was as sunny as his hair. "I'm Vincent. Vincent Van Gogh. It's so nice to meet you! I hope we can be good friends."

I was so mystified by the literal ray of sunshine sitting there that I barely noticed the brown haired man sitting next to him start to speak.

"Calm down, broer, we don't want to work hondje up too much." I glared at him.

"I'm not your pet. and I can guess who you are. Theodorus Van Gogh. I would say it's a pleasure but it's really not." a grin spread across his features.

"Feisty hondje." I rolled my eyes as Comte walked in.

"Sorry I'm late. Have you met everyone, Selene?" I nodded.

"I think so." Sebastian spoke up.

"Monsieur le Comte, Dazai-san is the only one left." Right as Sebastian finished talking, a clatter rang out from behind us.

#cybird ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire fic #angst #ikemen vampire dazai

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missjoker96 · 4 years

Text

Fanfiction about Arthur Fleck ♡

That's my first short story about him and the girl he loves. (The girl can be every female reader too)

Enjoy it :)

A Carnival Party in town. ~Part 1~

I woke up in the arms of my boyfriend, my true love. He was still asleep and I placed a kiss upon his lips before I went into the kitchen to make some coffee and breakfast. I was still a bit tired and looked out of the window. It was a sunny day and I knew that this day is going to be a great one. All I could hear were cars, people and the police. Something you can always hear in Gotham City. This city was so awful, full of dirt and rats, but my love to Arthur couldn't change my mind to leave. He is part of my life and a life without him would mean a big hole in my heart.

Once the coffee and the breakfast were ready I went to Arthur and woke him up with kisses and compliments. He deserved all kindness in this cruel world of pain. And I was there to make his life better. Good that I work in Arkham otherwise I would have never met him. Gotham is a big city and the city with the most villains and crimes. Back to myself and Arthur. I sat in beside him and stroked his curly brown hair. His hair was so soft and sweaty and his face looked peaceful and somehow boyish. My lips were touching cheeks and I whispered into his ears.

"Arthur. It's time to wake up my love. I have prepared coffee and breakfast for you."

He slowly moved and he opened his eyes. His green eyes stared at me and a warm smile appeared on his face. "Good morning Jenny. How late is it?" I smiled and kissed his lips before I answered him. "It is time to get up from bed, because I have prepared coffee and a wonderful breakfast for us." Arthur smiled and pulled me closer for another kiss before he got up from bed and into his clothe's. He wore dark trousers, a bright shirt and an armless dark red vest as usual. Did he want to look perfect for me? I even love him with sweaty hair, his pyjama's and his naked upper body. Oh how hot he looked like that! Jenny, you should keep your sexual thoughts in your head now and enjoy breakfast with your boyfriend. Arthur went into the bathroom and washed his face while I went back into the kitchen. Our little cat, well Arthur's cat jumped on my lap because she wanted to be stroked and fed. I stroked her head gently and prepared her food. "Here. That's for you Soda." She was happy and ate her food. My eyes were fixed at the orange kitten and I remembered how I adopted this cute little thing. My thoughts drifted away and I took the morning newspaper until Arthur appeared beside me. Nothing exciting to read until one thing. A Carnival Party in Gotham City? How did this happen? I mean I loved to dress up, but here in Gotham? And it was today and sounded like fun. My idea was crazy and I would tell it to my darling and right there he was. He came towards me and kissed my lips before he sat down beside me.

"What are you reading there, Jenny?" He asked me curious and drank from his cup filled with coffee. My smile grew and I knew that I was blushing.

"Have you ever been at a Carnival Party before? I ask, because there is a Carnival Party today in Gotham. I would like to go there with you Arthur." My smile grew wider and my heart raced faster, because I was very excited now. His facial features became curious and he took another sip from his coffee before he answered my question.

"I fear that I have never been at a Carnival Party before, but it sounds like fun. If you wish to go there, then we are going there together. What is the dress code?"

I read the article once again and couldn't find a dress code which made our costume choice easier. If I would have asked him now what costume he wanted to wear, then the fun would have stopped. The answer was easy, but it was me who wanted to go the Carnival Party. Arthur would only go with me and suddenly his smile grew wider. I guess he had the same thought like I had. "What is on your mind now, Arthur?" I knew this smile far too well and crossed my arms and placed them on the table.

"I could be Joker and you could be my Miss Joker. How does that sound for you?"

This surprised me really. To hear those words from his lips as if he could read my thoughts. How could I tell him that I had the same thoughts and exactly the same. Maybe I should answer with very sweet and kind words. I could swear that my cheeks where pink from all the blushes and took his hand to place a kiss on it. "I would love to be your Miss Joker. It would be a honor for me. And we should show Gotham that we belong together, right?" My belly growled and I had butterflies, because of my Artie. He made me lucky, only he was the reason for me to keep me sane from all the shit outside. And the look on his face told me that he was more than happy to dress up like two clown's. We both would be the eye catchers out on the streets, but that was the point. Two Joker's would make more trouble than only one. And I would be the female version of himself. I could imagine already how he would turn me into a happy clown. It was only a question of time and Arthur's smile turned into a laugher, but a happy one.

"Perfect. We both will look like the cutest and prettiest couple. I can't believe my luck with you, Jenny." His voice was so happy and he took my hands into his own. Of course he was happy and I was the reason. He deserved nothing more than my love and happiness. Finally I began to eat the breakfast with pan cakes and jam. I made them, because of my Artie baby. He had to get more weigh and since he doesn't take his meds anymore, he had appetit again. And this made me proud and happy. I couldn't watch him without eating. It broke my heart to see him like this and only his smile made me smile too. Something what we both share together. Arthur smiled at me while he ate his pan cakes and sipped his coffee. I could tell that he had again something on his minds, because I knew his happy face already too well.

"When does the party start?" He asked with such a happy and curious voice. I looked at him and then read the article from the morning newspaper again. It began at twelve o'clock and I took a look at the time. Oh my god it was already half past ten and we wanted to have enough time to prepare ourselves for the party. "It starts at twelve o'clock, but it's already half past ten. Should we get dressed up already?" My eyes moved from the article back to Arthur who formed a wide smile on his face. I knew that already what it was meant for and he got up from his seat. "Give me twenty minutes. I have to look perfect as Joker." He grinned and went into the bathroom and closed the door up. All I heard now was his favourite song from Frank Sinatra called 'That's Life'. I loved that song and began to dance to it like Arthur always did. And I'm sure he danced right now while he prepared himself as Joker. I wish I could watch it how he put his make up on and how he turned into Joker, but he wanted to surprise me and I had to be patient and took Soda on my lap again. She meowed and cuddled closer, because she wanted to get attention and I gave it to her. I hummed the lines of his favourite song and suddenly he came out from the bathroom and into the living room. I heard his foot steps and his voice.

"May I introduce you to Joker?" He smiled widely with an elegant move and I stared at him in surprise. He looked so handsome and beautiful and this red suit, with a green shirt and a yellow vest was the perfect combination for the clown prince. His hair was green now and combed back with a hair brush and hair gel. And his face was covered in white clown make up and his eyes got blue triangles above and below. His mouth turned into a wide red smile and his nose was red like a clown nose. And above his blue triangles were two red eye brows. He was the most beautiful clown I've ever seen in my whole life. "You look extreme beautiful and sexy, Joker. I don't know what to say." I smiled and took Soda on my arms and took Arthur's hands. We danced a little and Soda looked surprised at the clown, because the kitten has never seen him as clown before. Arthur stroked Soda's head gently and touched my nose gently. "It's time for you to become Miss Joker." He sounded exciting and I smiled widely and put Soda on the ground. I couldn't await it to become Miss Joker and offered my hand. He leaded me into the bathroom where he prepared a chair for me to sit down. And he got the face paint ready and the green hair colour. "Oh my god. I am so excited now, really. I have never been a clown before." Arthur laughed gently and put a towel around my neck to protect me from green stains. I turned the radio on to listen to some music while he worked on my hair colour. It turned green and he looked into the mirror at my face. "You will be the most beautiful and cutest clown girl the world have ever seen. How does that sound my love?" I felt butterflies in my belly at his compliments and smiled into the mirror image of Joker, my Joker.

"Thank you Joker." It was nice to watch how I slowly turned into a clown. The hair colour dried on my natural hair and he washed it off again once it was fully dried. And then he combed it back like he did it with his own hair and used some hair gel to fix it. And then he covered my face with white clown make up where I had to close my eyes. It tickled on my skin, but I enjoyed the transformation into Miss Joker. I also got blue triangles for my eyes, a wide red smile, a red nose and red eye brows to match with his face. He didn't let me see myself until I was ready, because he also got me his outfit in the female edition. It included a green blouse, a yellow armless vest, a red jacket and a red skirt. And at last he gave me white socks and brown shoes. Once I have seen myself from mirror, I looked even more surprised. "I look incredible! Thank you so much Mr Joker. Let me kiss your lips now. The make up is waterproof, right?" I didn't ask and pulled him closer to kiss his lips and by all luck, the make up didn't smear and looked like before I kissed him. "You look beautiful, my clown princess. Is Miss Joker ready to leave with her Mr Joker?" This question made me smile and I agreed with him. We grabbed our money and left the appartment. I took his offered arm and smiled at him once again. "I am ready. Let us show them that we both are the prettiest couple in Gotham City. They shall see Mr and Miss Joker." We both took the elevator and once we left the building, people began to stare at us. I felt like a complete different person and for the first time we both felt recognized. A few were looking at us with big eyes and a few were pointing with a finger at us and I heard them talking about us.

"Look at them! A clown couple is out today. Don't they look pretty together?"

I smiled as I heard compliments here and there and looked at Arthur who seemed to be happy too. And he offered me a cigarette, because he lit one up for himself. I couldn't say no and smoked one. We both made our way to the subway station and while we both went there, the compliments of the passing people grew and a few followed us. "Joker, I think a few of our fans are following us. Why does this happen?" Of course I whispered into his ears and he only grinned and enjoyed those people watching us. I could understand him, because he never felt so good before. He was a loner and a freak like I was, but now we were together and famous too. "Don't worry Miss Joker. They are following us, because they like us. And a few are going to this Carnival Party too." He was probably right and I felt a warm squeeze of his hand on mine.

"Hey Joker! Did you found your Miss Joker? Can I take a picture of you both?"

Arthur agreed and made a funny pose and I joined him. It was funny and I threw my finished cigarette on the ground. I stomped with my shoe on it and then they took a few pictures of us. They wanted to ask us so many questions, but the subway arrived and we winked them. "Maybe we see us at the Carnival Party later." I said that to our fans and got into the subway with Arthur who waved them too with a laugh on his face. The subway was full of people and a few were dressed up too. I could see people dressed as cat, prince and princess, super hero, but we both were the only clown's. I wonder why. I mean clown's were famous at carnival and also in the circus. But Arthur and I were no ordinary clown's. We were comedy clown's and modern. Even in the subway we got compliments and I couldn't help but blush and lean gently on my beloved boyfriend's shoulder. "This is wonderful, Arthur. I have never felt like this before. Thank you for making me yours my love." I kissed his lips again and held his hand in mine while I watched his beautiful green eyes. I loved his eye colour so much.

"I should thank you. You accept me how I am and you understand my laugh condition and my mental illness. To be true. I never thought that a girl like you would ever recognize me and love me. I am thankful Jenny, I mean Miss Joker. I love you so much." Suddenly I felt his hands stroking mine and he kissed me one more time on my lips. The make up was still there like before and we both were happy than ever before. Our fans were applauding and one of them said something really sweet.

"You both should become Carnival Queen and Carnival King, because you both are pretty cute Mr and Miss Joker."

My smile grew and I thanked the girl who gave us compliments. We wanted to talk with a few of our fans a little more, but the subway has arrived our station and we got out. Arthur offered his arms again and I took his offer. It was time to arrive the Carnival Party and it wasn't far away from the subway station. We had to walk about ten minutes and could hear already the music from a far. And by all luck we met a circus clown who asked if we are a couple and we both agreed. "We are Mr and Miss Joker, sir. Are you from the Carnival Party?" Arthur was curious and held my hand all the time, because this was his way of showing people that we belonged together. The circus clown agreed and wrote our names on a piece of paper before he threw it into his bottle full of names.

"Yes, I am from the Carnival Party. And my job is it to find as many couples as possible for our tombola. And you both have very good chances to become our Carnival Queen and King. Good luck you both!"

The circus clown continued his way and we both too. Finally we arrived the Carnival Party and I stopped in front of the entry, because I wanted to show everybody here how much I loved my Joker. I pulled him closer and looked into his eyes.

"I love you so terribly much my handsome Joker. And I am glad that we found each other, because now we can show them all who we are and only you are the reason why I am here." I kissed his lips again and he deepened my kiss. We could have stayed like this for hours. And I wouldn't mind that, but we wanted to enjoy the party and I heard the most beautiful words of Arthur. "My dear Miss Joker. You don't know how happy I am to be with you, no matter where we both are. You took my loneliness away, my sorrows and also a part of my negative thoughts. Let me spend my life with you from now on. I love you too." My heart raced faster as I heard those beautiful words and felt his lips one more time on mine before we both entered the Carnival Party. Hand in hand and with a feeling of happiness and true love, we showed everybody how we felt...

(This story continues with a part 2)

#ArthurFleck #JokerFanfiction #MissJoker #MrJoker #CarnivalParty #LoveFeelings #TrueHappiness

9 notes · View notes

dreamdaddydutch · 5 years

Note

Sorry to make a request while you seem so busy with life and other writing but I had an idea that I couldn't get out of my head. Would you be willing to write some Dutch smut where he's wearing that lawman uniform and realizes that his s/o is really into it but is too shy and flustered to admit it so he takes matters into his own hands? I just need some indulgent daddy Dutch lol. If you don't feel like writing this it's totally cool and thanks for all of your other work ❤️

I apologise that this took me a literal age to write, but I really loved writing it and loved the idea so thank you! I’ve written this where Dutch and his s/o haven’t had sex yet, but have been kissing etc. I was originally writing this as gender neutral but got carried away so this is written for a fem! reader as you didn’t specify. But I’m planning on writing a version for male readers too.

Warnings: Smut so 18+ - squirting I Word Count: 3,721

Tight blue trousers, polished gold buttons, those lapels and that hat. Every part of the uniform drew you in. It wasn’t something you’d ever thought about or considered before, why would it have been? Living an outlaw life, you were hardly going to fraternise with the enemy. But Dutch? When Dutch wore the uniform, you discovered a need you didn’t even know you had.

You’d been busy chopping wood when Dutch, Arthur and Sadie rode back into camp, you’d always thought Dutch looked rather handsome and commanding when riding the Count. But now, you saw him in different light. The two of you had been exclusive for a short while, though with everything that had been happening you hadn’t even slept together yet. You slept by one another’s side, that was, when Dutch slept… You kissed, sometimes passionately, but sex just hadn’t been a pressing issue which was kind of nice.

As you watched them ride you hadn’t realised that you’d stopped still, or that your mouth was open just a jar, agape at the sight, until Arthur placed a hand on your chin to close it.

Tight blue trousers, polished gold buttons, those lapels – that satisfied expression on his face from a job well done.

You jumped at the touch and felt your cheeks grow red, you heard Arthur chuckle as you continued with your chore. Try as you might to avoid looking up at Dutch, you couldn’t help but steal the odd glance at him. And for a brief moment, after hitching the Count, he caught your eye and smiled.

Immediately you placed the axe back and walked off to join Tilly who was helping to prepare dinner. You had a feeling there would be a celebration tonight and felt in great need of a drink, but first some cold water to cool you down. Of course you didn’t need to shy away from Dutch or any affections for him, but where everything was so new and others were likely to tease, you tried to play it cool. Which of course never works.

Dutch gathered the remaining members of the gang round the campfire, it was nice to see him happy for once. But to be honest you didn’t hear a word he said, you were too busy staring at him, at the way the uniform clung to his figure, how snug the pants were on his ass and delicious the bulge between his legs looked. You found yourself swallowing hard after realising how incredibly dry your mouth had become. Between your legs you knew you were wet just from looking at him, how sturdy he seemed, how large his hands were and oh how good he looked when he had the attention of the others.

When Dutch finished speaking and the others went about handing out drinks and starting the celebrations, you followed him into his tent. You made sure to give it a few minutes so that the others didn’t see you as desperate for attention, but nothing could have prepared you for what you saw when you entered your tent.

You witnessed Dutch, still in the lawman’s uniform, chest puffed out, strutting around a little. You stifled the giggle that was building. Dutch often commented on how stealthy you were when you moved around, footsteps light on the ground, as quiet as a mouse he would say. This was one of those moments, it was only for a few seconds but you managed to lean against the tent pole and watch him for a moment.

When Dutch turned, he didn’t appear embarrassed at all, in fact quite the opposite. He raised his eyebrows at you, “Enjoying the show?” The asked.

Those lapels, the polished boots, white gloves and that hat.

Dutch noticed the way you had looked at him from across the camp, the way your hand had travelled to your thighs without you even noticing. Legs clenched, teeth biting lip, the tension you carried and oh the way you trembled as he had brushed past you on the way to the tent.

“Like what you see?” He mocked as you stared at him.

“I…erm,” you stumbled over your words and promptly turned on your heels and exited his tent crashing into Javier as you went.

“You alright there ‘….’?” Javier asked.

You jumped, not expecting anyone to be stood so close to the entrance of the tent, “Yes, fine, why?” You answered, but you knew the words you spoke rolled off your tongue far too quickly and more likely sounded like you said, “yeney?” and were talking gibberish.

Javier stared blankly at you confirming the fears that you had been talking gibberish.

“It’s nothing Javier, thank you.”

“Want a drink?”

You sighed and nodded, Javier was honestly one of the best listeners in camp so you followed him a little way outside the camp, beer in hand.

When the two of you were sat down you opened up to him, telling him things you didn’t think you’d confess to anyone in the gang.

That night you joined the others, drinking and celebrating, though deep down you weren’t entirely sure what you were celebrating. With so many of the gang members gone and tensions running high it seemed almost foolish to act this happy. But you couldn’t bare to pull everyone out of their good moods, so joined in, impervious to the real issues at hand for one night.

Dutch, now in his usual attire, had pulled you into his arms to dance with him. Staring up into his wide eyes you could almost forget where you were and what, as a gang you had been through.

Dutch’s eyes were on you the following day as you moved around the camp. Several times he’d brushed past you and kissed you softly on the cheek, definitely being more hands on than usual.

He handed you the lawman’s uniform, “This needs washing, if you would be so kind.”

You waited until no one before you buried your nose into the pile of clothes and inhaled his scent. You didn’t realise, but Dutch had been watching you. His hand not so subtly went down to his crotch and gently squeezed.

You let out an inaudible moan, and shuddered, Dutch noticed and smirked before turning away.

What was worse was as you were cleaning his undergarments you spotted a rather large strain and were certain that you knew exactly what it was.

It should have disgusted you, but instead it didn’t, it only served to aid in the pooling between your legs. Dutch had chosen to give you the uniform on purpose, he knew you’d see the stain. Your hands trembled so much that the water splashed a little over the side.

You cursed yourself and your inability to tell him how you felt and that you were ready for him, especially in the uniform. But how did one approach that as a topic?

Dutch’s fingertips grazed your knuckles as he went to reach for the bottle that was next you. Instantly you froze, muscles ceasing to respond to what you wanted to do.

No words were needed.

Arthur tapped you on the shoulder, you’d been too busy swaying gently to Javier’s guitar and enjoying the stillness of the evening to notice how much time had passed.

“Hey, Dutch wanted to know if he could speak with you.”

You nodded, trembling a little as you stood, Dutch had never asked to speak with you alone at night before.

When you entered the tent you were greeted by the sight of Dutch, sat on your cot, booted feet firmly on the ground. He was wearing the lawman’s uniform, hat and all.

Shit. What is happening?

He looked at you coyly, eyes dark and mischievous, “I asked you a question the other day, but you declined to answer.”

You could see where this was heading and you felt your stomach drop out from under you.

“Dutch…” you stuttered.

He sat up a little taller, placed his hands on his lap and practically purred, “Well? Do you? See something you like I mean?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I…”

“How about you show me.”

“Dutch,” your voice was breathy, and quiet.

“No need to be afraid, if this is what you want, then come, take it. Of course, my dear if I have misread the situation you are free to leave. I just thought, we have such a good time kissing do we not?”

“No,” you spoke a little too quickly, “I mean yes, yes we do and no, you haven’t misread the situation, I…” you held onto the tent pole, your legs were trembling like crazy.

Dutch chuckled, “Just as I thought, come here,” he patted his lap.

You walked over to him, trying to be sultry but guessed you looked more like a lost baby bird than anything, all knobbly knees.

As you slid down onto his lap you inhaled sharply and closed your eyes for a moment, on opening them you became acutely aware of just how close your face was to his.

“Hello dear, you like a man in uniform huh?”

You let out a strangled mewl as his hand came up to cup the back of your head. His lips were so warm against your own and softer than you’d imagined they would be.

The kiss was tender but it was also full of yearning, there was something in it that told you he needed this as much as you did.

You begun to rock your hips in earnest while Dutch’s hands gripped your waist tightly. Although you were doing all the hard work, he helped to guide and rock you.

His eyes keenly watching the expression on your face as you begun to work yourself up with the friction.

“Rock those hips a little faster baby,” he commanded.

You obliged, your eyebrows knitted as you keenly increased the pace. The fabric of your undergarments now rubbing so sweetly against your most sensitive spot, but it wasn’t enough. How you had longed for this, longed to be close to Dutch and have him inside you. Now it seemed so close you didn’t want to finish like this.

“Good girl,” Dutch praised before pressing a kiss to your lips.

Your hands went for the back of his head so you could push him closer into you, for a moment Dutch kissed you roughly, his tongue slipping through your lips so your tongues were twisted. You stopped rocking your body for a moment to enjoy the feel of the kiss and the warmth of his mouth.

But the moment you stopped, Dutch snapped away, “Did I say stop?”

You let out a whinge, it’s long and full of weeks of pent up frustration and so of course it makes Dutch smirk.

“You just gotta work a little harder for me and then I’ll let you have what you want.”

You nodded, bit your lip and begun to roll your hips again, as the friction built once more you became acutely aware of the bulge growing in Dutch’s pants. Every time you rocked forwards you felt it against you something sparked inside, small trembles. At this point you were certain that you were getting wet, you could practically feel your own slickness on the inside of your thighs as you rocked as Dutch commanded.

When he was satisfied he held your hips even tighter so you were barely able to rock against him, you stopped moving and looked up at him. The dark expression he wore told you that you’d done a good job.

Dutch, all authority and no hesitation told you exactly what to do, “Stand up.”

You followed his order and stood in front of him, arms awkwardly down at your sides as you wondered what he was going to ask you to do next. He took a step forward so your chests were flush, he tilted his head and went in for your neck. His breaths tickled but before you had a chance to giggle his lips were on your skin, teeth following a moment later, nipping and finding your pulse. You squeezed your thighs and took a sharp intake of breath. Dutch’s hands snaked round you, taking your ass cheeks in both hands and squeezing them as he continued to suck your pulse.

When he pulled away he was a little red faced but the bulge that now appeared to be almost painfully pushed against his pants told you how much he was enjoying this.

Dutch undressed you slowly, his fingers working slowly at lace and buttons. He undressed you in a fashion which made you nearly cry out with frustration. His fingertips grazed your skin every time a new part of flesh was exposed for him. When you were completely naked he looked you up and down and smirked.

“Lay down.”

You obeyed, walking over to the cot, your legs trembling as you did so. The night air was cold but you were certain that soon Dutch would have warmed you up. He stood at the side of the bed and admired your naked form.

“Oh this was worth waiting for.”

Your arms were up on the pillow behind you, your body was stretched out so you could feel everything. The cold air had made your nipples rock hard and Dutch just licked his lips while looking down on you.

Dutch decided to continue to wear the uniform, the whole thing, even the boots and the gloves. That was enough to make you melt.

But the hat, the hat he gave to you, placing it on your head, “Now you have to make sure that hat doesn’t leave your pretty head, is that clear?”

You gulped and nodded, “Yes Sir.”

“If at any point you lose the hat, it’s game over, you don’t get to cum.”

You nodded, “I understand,” your body arched for him before he’d even touched you, desperate for his touch.

He stroked your hair and placed a kiss to your forehead, “Good girl.”

His fingers brushed over your breasts, so lightly he could have been stroking you with a feather. When he reached your nipples he drew small circles round them and then after a few moments pinched one between his thumb and forefinger whilst bending down and taking the other between his lips.

“Ahhh,” you moaned as he starting to suck your nipple and then bit gently on it, his tongue continuing to swirl round the peak as he did so. Your hands gripped the bedsheets as he did this, if his tongue felt this good on your nipple, god knows how good it was going to feel when he got lower down.

He broke away without warning and left a trail of wet and messy kisses down your stomach and onto your thighs. Dutch knelt on the cot between your legs and opened them, you felt yourself blush as he stared at you.

“Already so wet, my filthy girl.”

He massaged your thighs with his gloved hands for a moment, his thumbs ever circling closer to your wetness. You tried hard to breath normally, but he was making it impossible, your heart was beating so furiously against your chest.

Dutch bent down and breathed out between your legs, the hot air and sensation making you squirm. He inhaled your sent and then without warning he dove between your legs, making you cry out.

It was a little sloppy at first. But he was keen, and once he realised what you wanted it improved. As you looked at him keenly working your hands went to his shoulders and squeezed, and a moment later your hands were in his curly hair pulling gently. As he continued to lick and suck, your hips bucked.

“Need you….” you panted.

“Hmmm,” Dutch smirked as he looked up from between your legs, his lips glistened with your juices. He licked them hungrily and then went back to work.

“Dutch,” you moaned as you squirmed under him, on the one hand you didn’t want this to end, on the other hand you needed him inside you now or you felt you might cry.

His tongue slipped between your walls and you cried out as his thumb rubbed your clit softly simultaneously.

“Fuck, fuck…” all you could do was repeat obscenities as he continued to bring you closer to orgasm.

His tongue moved in and out of you at a great pace, which his thumb now met. You lifted up your ass a little, allowing him to put his free hand under you and squeeze one of your cheeks roughly. How you had longed for the feeling of his fingernails digging into your flesh, he gripped tighter making you cry out, your hips once again bucking for more contact and friction.

Dutch looked up again, “I want you to come for me, do you hear?”

You nodded, panting you found yourself unable to form a coherent sentence. Dutch went back to flicking your clit with his tongue as he plunged three fingers inside of you sheathing them completely.

You threw your head back on the pillow, worried for a moment that the hat would fall off and he’d stop.

Dutch continued to increase the pace and you knew your orgasm was close, your body was tensing up and your hands gripped tighter in his hair. You inhaled and held your breath, desperate to orgasm for him.

It wasn’t just the orgasm that was building, the way he was pumping his fingers into you so roughly and fast you had a feeling you were about to make him very wet. But there was nothing you could do to stop it or warn him, you felt the wetness squirt from between your legs as you cried out his name several times as you came around his fingers. Your hips bucking furiously, hands white where you’d gripped the bed sheets so tightly. Dutch continued to pleasure you as your rode your orgasm, making you squirt a little more all over his fingers and face. When he finally finished you lay panting, only just releasing your grip on the sheets a little. You felt your own fluids drip down your thighs and onto the cot beneath.

For a moment you were too embarrassed to look up and meet his eye line, but you knew you’d have to eventually. When you looked up Dutch was grinning from ear to ear, his face shining with your fluids. He licked his lips hungrily and then brought a gloved hand up to his mouth and sucked each of the fingers slowly.

“My my, my dear I had no idea you could do that.”

You were still blushing as you responded, “I’ve only ever been able to do that to myself…”

Dutch looked incredibly proud of both himself and you, “You mean to tell me that masturbation is practically a past time for you, naughty girl.”

He spanked your cunt lightly, your teeth bit your lower lip as he did so.

“You made such a mess of my clean uniform.”

“I’m sorry Dutch.”

“Nothing to be sorry for darling, you’ll just have to wash it again for me.”

Before you had a chance to answer Dutch went back between your legs, hungrily licking your thighs and your cunt making you squirm. It was clear he was trying to lap up every part of you, although you had worried it would be humiliating to squirt in front of him, you were relived that he enjoyed it as much as you.

When he sat back up he climbed on top of you, one of his hands working at the fly of his pants. You saw his cock spring free a moment later and now found yourself the one licking their lips at the sight of it. He was rather large, perhaps a little larger than you’d expected and thick. His cock twitched quite frequently and you could make out a few thick veins on the underside, it was red and pre-cum was leaking from the tip making his head glisten.

“Like what you see?”

You nodded, “Yes Dutch, I want you, I want you in that uniform inside me, fill me up please!” You begged.

Dutch chuckled and kissed your lips, “Seeing as you’ve been such a good, good girl.”

He slid inside you in one swift motion, he was so large that you cried his name out and gripped hold of his hips for leverage. Once fully sheathed he didn’t move for a moment, allowing you to get used to his size, he peppered your collarbone with kisses for those few precious seconds and then begun to thrust into you.

He was slow but deep, allowing you to feel every throb of his cock and appreciate just how he felt inside of you.

He continued with the same steady rhythm moving in and out of you. Every time he thrust in he would let out a little grunt that you could only describe as animalistic. You aimed to heighten his pleasure by raising your hips a little and rolling forwards every time he thrust into you.

The first time you did this you clenched around him and Dutch let out a hiss of appreciation.

The sex didn’t last long, within minutes Dutch begun to increase the pace along with his breaths and you knew he was close. You couldn’t take your eyes off him as he moved inside you, that blue uniform, those gloves, those gold buttons… Oh how you liked Dutch van der Linde in uniform.

“Y/N,” Dutch moaned as he came deep inside of you, his brows furrowed and eyes closed. He thrust a few times, quick but deep thrusts, slowly becoming more lazy as he rode his own orgasm.

His head was on your chest and he stayed inside you for a moment, when he finally looked up he brushed your cheek. “The sooner you clean it, the sooner we can do this again.” He smirked as he spoke but the smirk broke way to something else, something better. The smile he wore was one born of love and adoration. The way he rolled over to the side and pulled you into his arms and cradled you, told you all you needed to know.

#Dutch van der Linde #dutch x reader #lemon #fanfiction #mine #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #basically filth #but a little fluff #gotta love a man in uniform

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