Storm

Nightfall Floyd x reader

In the dead of night, even a simple click of a light switch would echo for miles. Turning your head ever so slightly, your eyes flickered from left to right. Giving the Lantern a quick look-over, to ensure that nothing was left behind.

The utensils were scrubbed sparkling clean, tucked into their respective cabinets neatly. Tables were wiped down, their surfaces spotless. Chairs were tucked in, arranged in order. The cafe’s lights were already turned off, the interior illuminated merely by the dim, feeble lights of the street lamps outside.

A tranquil interior, as opposed to the storm outside.

Short silly Drabble but Biker Deuce.

Him waiting outside your door leaning on his motorbike all cool-like, but fumbling and falling over when he hears the door open. Deuce can’t help it! You appeared so suddenly, that his heart is racing at insane speeds.

Well, now that you’re in front of him, it’s pounding for an entirely different reason. A passionate beat, a rapid salsa dancing against his ribcage. With his cheeks flushed red, Deuce quite literally drags you on his bike, placing his helmet over your head. His gloved hands brush against the curve of your face as Deuce tightens or loosens the buckles, fixing them together with a sharp click.

Hey, he wouldn’t want you to get hurt on his watch. Tapping on the brim of his helmet, you see his lips curl up into a sheepish, boyish smile. You look…. Good, with his helmet.

It fits you.

These words leave his lips in quiet mutters, before Deuce’s eyes widen, and his cheeks flare a scarlet red. He said that out loud, did he? Urm, just forget it all!

He’s going to force himself to face forward after that, reviving up his motorbike. Yet even within all his embarrassment, Deuce still searches for your hands, fastening them around his waist. It’s an… added layer of security, don’t worry about it. Just to make sure you don’t go flying off, a piece of paper in the wind.

As you clutch on his jacket, lean a little closer. Maybe you’ll catch the poor love-sick boy’s whispered words:

“You can hold on a little tighter, actually.

Hold me closer, please.”

Bonus but when you see him on the roads, give him a little wave and cup your hands downwards. Mime a rev, and Deuce will rev one good purr from his engine for you.

Also Deuce tends to throw his motorcycle jacket onto your shoulders whenever you two travel down the roads together. He zips it up with one fluid motion, before melting at how adorable you look like bundled in his poofy jacket.

Whenever he put it back on, he gives the Jacket’s collar a little kiss, chasing the last embers of your body’s warmth on the cloth.