[Drabble] It's No Russia Sushi, Izaya/Namie
from this meme:
Give me a pairing, and then give me an everyday setting (coming home from work, waking up in the morning, going grocery shopping, etc.) and I'll write a short drabble involving said pairing in said situation. You can ask for pairings that have already been requested, and be as creative as you want with the situations!
This is a fun one. Give a shot at writing about different pairings in a domestic situation! :D
also! Don't worry, I haven't forgot about you Amelia or dreamsofpaprika! Just in a bit of a writers slump/block right now. Don't know where to start, where to continue, where to finish. Also, if you haven't left a comment for this meme below - feel free to leave one! :)
This is koondy 's prompt:
Disclaimer: I do not own Durarara!! or any of the characters. That property rightfully belongs to it's rightful owner.
Title: It's No Russia Sushi.
Author: Karrissarella
Rating: T (for violent thoughts)
Genre: Humor/General
Prompt: Namie hates cooking for Izaya but Izaya loves it. Very, very, very slight IzaNamie
“Namie~” Izaya sang as he swiveled around in his chair, turning to look at her desk. Namie slowly looked up from her paperwork, locking eyes with the informant. She didn't say anything. She knew he would eventually state what he wanted sooner or later.
Izaya grinned, “won't you make me some fatty tuna for me?” He said, “all the ingredients are in the fridge.”
Namie stared over at him with a blank expression before she went back to looking through the folders on her desk. “If you want it now, why don't you just call Russia Sushi? You know Simon delivers.”
“But all the ingredients are in the fridge! It would be pointless if Simon came and delivered me some. Plus, I don't think he does deliveries out of Ikebukuro.” He said, leaning his head on his hand on his desk.
“Then why don't you call Simon to come over here and make you some himself?” She muttered under her breath.
Namie took a few moments, flipping through more folders and stacking them in another pile beside her. She could feel those blood-sucking red eyes on her and it only got under her skin every time he would just sit there and simply stare at her. Not out of love, or amusement, or hatred - but out of observance.
She slowly stood up from her desk and moved into the small kitchen as she opened a cupboard, pulling out the necessary dishware for it, setting it down on the counter. Her heels clicked as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out the food that was needed. She frowned as she heard the wheels of a certain informant's chair swivel back around and soon heard typing.
She sighed, glancing over at his back from the corner of her eye. This always happened. It started every once in a while. It turned into once a month. By now, it was every other week - Izaya would ask her if she would cook something for him. She knew he knew very well that she was capable of slipping any sort of toxic in his food but he always ate it anyway, without fear, and always humming a little tune to himself while he ate. It annoyed her. He knew that. It amused him. That only annoyed her even further.
Namie pressed the knife against the meat, imagining it was her boss' face. Namie still cut slow and carefully. She would want him to suffer, of course. Cutting the fish rapidly was letting it out of it's pain even faster.
“Namie~” Izaya rang once again as he stood up from his chair and sashayed over to the kitchen. “Is my fatty tuna ready yet?” He asked, leaning against the counter opposite from where Namie was standing.
Namie didn't turn to face him, staring down at the completed plate in front of her. She contemplated whether stuffing this food down his throat fast enough would cause him to choke and suffocate. She picked up the plate and turned to face him. She shoved the plate in his hands and walked back to her desk.
Izaya was caught a little off-guard as the plate was nearly jammed into his stomach. He watched her, smirking before he plopped a piece of fish in his mouth. He was interested in when Namie would actually deny his orders to cook for him and actually follow through with it.
For now though, this was fun. He thought as he picked up another piece of his fatty tuna, placing it in his mouth. It's still no Russia Sushi.
A/N: U-um...I've been slacking a lot on my writing and this was for a meme drabble for my friend Koondy! So, I hope she enjoys it!
Give me a pairing, and then give me an everyday setting (coming home from work, waking up in the morning, going grocery shopping, etc.) and I'll write a short drabble involving said pairing in said situation. You can ask for pairings that have already been requested, and be as creative as you want with the situations!
This is a fun one. Give a shot at writing about different pairings in a domestic situation! :D
also! Don't worry, I haven't forgot about you Amelia or dreamsofpaprika! Just in a bit of a writers slump/block right now. Don't know where to start, where to continue, where to finish. Also, if you haven't left a comment for this meme below - feel free to leave one! :)
This is koondy 's prompt:
Disclaimer: I do not own Durarara!! or any of the characters. That property rightfully belongs to it's rightful owner.
Title: It's No Russia Sushi.
Author: Karrissarella
Rating: T (for violent thoughts)
Genre: Humor/General
Prompt: Namie hates cooking for Izaya but Izaya loves it. Very, very, very slight IzaNamie
“Namie~” Izaya sang as he swiveled around in his chair, turning to look at her desk. Namie slowly looked up from her paperwork, locking eyes with the informant. She didn't say anything. She knew he would eventually state what he wanted sooner or later.
Izaya grinned, “won't you make me some fatty tuna for me?” He said, “all the ingredients are in the fridge.”
Namie stared over at him with a blank expression before she went back to looking through the folders on her desk. “If you want it now, why don't you just call Russia Sushi? You know Simon delivers.”
“But all the ingredients are in the fridge! It would be pointless if Simon came and delivered me some. Plus, I don't think he does deliveries out of Ikebukuro.” He said, leaning his head on his hand on his desk.
“Then why don't you call Simon to come over here and make you some himself?” She muttered under her breath.
Namie took a few moments, flipping through more folders and stacking them in another pile beside her. She could feel those blood-sucking red eyes on her and it only got under her skin every time he would just sit there and simply stare at her. Not out of love, or amusement, or hatred - but out of observance.
She slowly stood up from her desk and moved into the small kitchen as she opened a cupboard, pulling out the necessary dishware for it, setting it down on the counter. Her heels clicked as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out the food that was needed. She frowned as she heard the wheels of a certain informant's chair swivel back around and soon heard typing.
She sighed, glancing over at his back from the corner of her eye. This always happened. It started every once in a while. It turned into once a month. By now, it was every other week - Izaya would ask her if she would cook something for him. She knew he knew very well that she was capable of slipping any sort of toxic in his food but he always ate it anyway, without fear, and always humming a little tune to himself while he ate. It annoyed her. He knew that. It amused him. That only annoyed her even further.
Namie pressed the knife against the meat, imagining it was her boss' face. Namie still cut slow and carefully. She would want him to suffer, of course. Cutting the fish rapidly was letting it out of it's pain even faster.
“Namie~” Izaya rang once again as he stood up from his chair and sashayed over to the kitchen. “Is my fatty tuna ready yet?” He asked, leaning against the counter opposite from where Namie was standing.
Namie didn't turn to face him, staring down at the completed plate in front of her. She contemplated whether stuffing this food down his throat fast enough would cause him to choke and suffocate. She picked up the plate and turned to face him. She shoved the plate in his hands and walked back to her desk.
Izaya was caught a little off-guard as the plate was nearly jammed into his stomach. He watched her, smirking before he plopped a piece of fish in his mouth. He was interested in when Namie would actually deny his orders to cook for him and actually follow through with it.
For now though, this was fun. He thought as he picked up another piece of his fatty tuna, placing it in his mouth. It's still no Russia Sushi.
A/N: U-um...I've been slacking a lot on my writing and this was for a meme drabble for my friend Koondy! So, I hope she enjoys it!