#dragon writes
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Bridgerton shade of blue
Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Nine - Late night scandals
♡♡♡
"What do you think Bridgerton?"
Benedict turns around to find the artist he had accidentally offended at the gallery the other night.
"This one more to your liking?"
"Mr. Granville--" Benedict raises from his chair to approach the man.
"Perhaps they should take it over to Somerset House so it can be skyed right next to mine."
"I believe I owe you an apology, sir." Benedict says, feeling rather embarrassed.
"Unnecessary. I actually quite enjoy the eloquent stings of your critique. So?" He gestures back to the painting on the wall.
"A touch morose for my tastes," Benedict says.
Henry points to the next one.
"A tragedy. The hound deserved better," Benedict comments.
Granville laughs. "Where is yours?"
"My..."
"Your work," Granville clarifies. "Are you tell me you're not an artist yourself?"
"Well, I-- I suppose sometimes I like to... Well, I mean, I almost--"
"I believe 'yes' and 'thank you' are the words you seek. But either way, you should come by my studio." Mr Granville holds out a small card to Benedict, who accepts it. "The pieces I do for myself are there, and I think you will find my real work far less, um... Oh, how did you put it? 'Cold and lacking inner life?'"
Benedict scrunched up his face as he nodded, still burning with embarrassment. "I shall never live that down, shall I?"
Mr Granville leaves.
Benedict returns to his table where he had been absentmindedly doodling. Eyes. He was sketching out a pair of eyes. Pretty ones. From memory.
He sighs and closes the sketchbook.
♡♡♡
As you sit in the drawing room of the Bridgerton house, as invited by Violet, you discover that she had no idea about the boxing match, or that Daphne had been there.
You keep your eyes focused on the latest Whistledown paper, though you had stopped reading it.
Daphne was playing the piano while her mother interrogated her.
"A boxing match is no place for any young lady." Violet sighs.
"Is it a place for a prince? Was he at today's match, sister?" Hyacinth asks.
"He certainly was."
"It is a loathsome and barbarous form of entertainment," Violet was very displeased.
That was when Daphne took the opportunity to mention you had gone as well, which had Violet looking at you.
"You too?"
You glare softly at Daphne, who gives you a smug little look. Crafty one, she is.
"Anthony invited me," you admit.
Violet looked terribly ill all of a sudden. You were sure she would being this up with her eldest son at some point.
"What about the duke?" Hyacinth asks.
"What about the duke?" Both Violet and Daphne ask at the same time. You eye Daphne curiously from your seat.
"Was he also present?" Hyacinth asked, less enthusiastic now.
"I do not know," Daphne says. "If the duke was there, I did not see him."
Hyacinth leaves the piano to go see what Eloise is up to. She had been scribbling away in her book since you arrived.
You put the Whistledown column down and rose from your seat to seek entertainment near the window. Watching the street was surely more entertainment than listening in on that conversation.
Anthony enters the room and greets both his mother and his sister. You turn and he greets you too.
"Did you truly take your sister to a boxing match?" Violet hounds him.
"Your admonishment will have to wait. I have news," he cuts her lecture short. "Prince Friedrich has asked for my permission to propose." He looks at Daphne.
She stops playing. "So soon?"
"Well, what did you tell him?" Violet asks.
"That I know better than to answer for my sister. I have no objections to the man. People speak well of him. Whatever you decide, Daph, you shall have my support."
You look at Daphne quietly.
"I... uh... I..." She doesn't know what to say.
"You need not decide now," Violet tells her. "You certainly have no known him long."
"Let me know when you have an answer, and I shall convey it." Anthony says to his sister.
"Indeed." Daphne looks at him.
Anthony leaves as quickly as he came in. It was clear Daphne needed time to think.
♡♡♡
When Daphne had pleaded with you to attend the next ball with her, you couldn't say no. There was a sadness to her gaze, and you wondered from where it had risen.
Something had happened between her and the duke, and she had been off kilter ever since.
The ball, like all had been so far, was wonderful. The theme was a little more out there this time, but everyone was behaving quite perfectly.
You were standing with Daphne as she scanned the crowd. Exactly who she was looking for, you weren't quite certain. You would suggest the prince on the account that the duke was apparently leaving London tonight.
The prince could be seen across the room. He was in conversation with someone. You glance toward Daphne, but your gaze shifts as Cressida Cowper comes over. You give Daphne a gentle nudge.
"Daphne." Cressida chuckles. "You look beautiful, as always."
"Thank you, Cressida," Daphne says politely.
"You could have chosen anyone," Cressida says. "You have gentlemen lined up to pay you tribute. Yet you did not hesitate to steal my chance for happiness away, did you? I knew the marriage market would make rivals of us, but I never thought youcapable of being my enemy."
"The man made his choice, Cressida. What did you expect me to do?" Daphne asks.
Daphne walks off in the direction of the prince. You look at Cressida and then walk off in the other direction.
There is nothing you could ever say to her.
You begin to walk alongside the dance floor, watching the couples dance. A hand comes into view, and you turn to see a friendly looking young man smiling at you.
"May I have this dance?"
You take a moment to gather yourself. You had hoped one of the Bridgerton boys would be here to dance with you, but you supposed you couldn't rely on them every time.
"You may."
You go with him to dance.
It seemed Benedict wasn't here.
♡♡♡
Benedict was, in fact, making his way to the studio of Mr. Granville. He was intrigued by the artist.
He finds the address and knocks on the door. Henry Granville answers.
"Mr. Bridgerton."
Benedict stands there a little awkwardly.
"Come in, come in."
Granville lets him in. Benedict enters and follows him. He is led further inside and finds himself in a large room. A circle of easels presented around two nude models.
"I do not know what I was expecting, but it surely was not this." Benedict says.
"Oh, simply a gathering of like-minded souls." Henry tells him. "Here, let me show you what I've been working on."
Benedict is led further inside the studio. He passes a couple of painters discussing war so causally.
"What do you think?" Henry asks.
Benedict walks over and takes a look at the canvas.
"Hmm. It's a far cry from Somerset House, I must say."
"I shall take that a compliment."
They both chuckle.
"And I must say, I'm truly jealous. Is this your life?" Benedict asks.
"There are advantages to being the second-born." Henry tells him. "Heirs have the responsibility. Second sons have the fun."
They both chuckle again.
"So... why not go have some fun?" Henry gestures to the models. He's giving Benedict the chance to epress himself through art.
Benedict picks an easel and sits down.
♡♡♡
As you dance once again tonight, you spot Anthony standing off to the side. He's staring at the opera singer.
You hard heard whispers about him being infatuated with an opera singer, but had no idea if there lay any truth to them.
You continue dancing with your partner.
Benedict was still a no-show tonight, which you found to be rather disappointing. You had been looking forward to another evening of his little quips and teasing.
When the dance ends, you curtsy to your partner and head in the direction of Anthony and Violet. Lady Bridgerton had tries to introduce her son to a rather pretty young lady, but he showed no interest.
"Shall we dance, Lord Bridgerton?" You ask, looking at Anthony.
He turns and looks at you, for half a second, thinking you were another lady his mother was intent on pushing on him.
"Yes, let's." He offers his arm, and you take it. Violet watches you both go. Even if he chose you, she would be pleased, but she knows her son will not take you as his wife. You're his friend who has come to rescue him from her for a while.
Violet downs a third glass of champagne.
"She is persistent," you say.
"Hm?"
"Your mother."
Anthony chuckles softly. "Yes. Quite."
"The opera singer..."
He looks at you.
"Nevermind. Its not my business."
Anthony's expression softens. "I was - am - found of her."
"Yes. I assumed as much."
Anthony sighs. "It's complicated.
You nod and say no more on the matter. Anthony spins you around elegantly.
"Is Benedict not here tonight?" You ask, twirling with him.
"Benedict? No." He gazes at you. "Why do you ask?"
"I just noticed his absence."
"Missing your dance partner?" He teases.
You chuckle. "Am I that obvious?"
He winks at you, and you shake your head with a smile. "I'm fond of you boys. I can't help it when I notice one of you is missing."
Anthony grins. "How lucky we are to have gained such a special friend such as you."
As Anthony gives you another turn around the floor, you spot Colin speaking with Penelope. You smile softly at the sight and then turn your attention back to the eldest brother.
At least you'll have one Bridgerton on your dance card tonight.
As the next dance begins, Anthony keeps your company longer. You're aware this may catch attention from others, especially Lady Whistledown should she be here, but none the less, you dance with him twice.
You soon see that Colin has left Penelope on the sidelines to dance with Miss Thompson, and you also find the prince talking to Daphne amidst their dance.
The dance ends, and you manage to catch sight of Daphne fleeing the ballroom.
Anthony bows, and you curtsy.
"Until next time." He nods his head at you. You smile and nod, taking your leave. You worry about Daphne and intend to go check on her, but you're stopped by another gentleman.
You sigh and realise you'll have to dance with him before you can flee again.
The dance feels like it drags on, and on, and on. You smile, you listen to your partner talk, but your mind is focused on Daphne. She did not look well when she fled.
When the dance ends, you spot Anthony leaving the ballroom. You waste no more time and follow him.
He heads outside. You follow.
"Anthony?"
He turns and looks at you. "Go back inside."
"What's the matter? What's happening?"
"Did you see him?" Anthony asks urgently.
"Who?"
"The duke."
"He is here?"
"He was, and now I can't find Daphne." You realise he's concerned about his sister.
You hear something further in the garden, and Anthony hurries off. You follow him, close on his heels.
What you find is not what you ever expected to see.
Simon and Daphne were not just kissing. His hands were all over her. Her dress had been pulled down. You cover your mouth, though you can not hide the gasp that escapes you.
Anthony runs at Simon.
"Bastard!"
Simon receives a strong punch to the face. He falls to the ground, and Anthony takes another swing. He punches him a third time and then stands beside his sister. You hurry to her other side and checks her over.
"Daphne..."
She is speechless. She has no words for you. They have been caught in a compromising position.
"You will marry her," Anthony declares.
"What?" Daphne looks at her brother.
"Immediately. We can only hope no one saw you take such liberties, and my sister is saved further mortification. You will marry her!"
Anthony is angry.
"Brother!"
"I cannot marry her," Simon says.
"You have defiled her innocence, and now you refuse her hand? I knew you were a rake, Hastings, I never thought you a villain."
"I cannot marry her," Simon states more firmly.
Daphne looks hurt.
"Then you leave me no choice. I must demand satisfaction."
"A duel? Anthony, you cannot--" Daphne begins.
"He dishonours you, sister." Anthony looks at her. "He dishonours you and me and the very Bridgerton name. I have misjudged you, indeed. You have duped us both, but I shall not see my sister pay for my own misdeeds. We will settle this as gentlemen."
"I understand," Simon agrees. "I shall see you at dawn."
"I do not understand," Daphne says softly. "You would rather die than marry me?"
You look at Simon quietly.
"I am truly sorry."
"We need to go, Daph. Before anyone should see us." Anthony says softly.
You reach out for her arm gently and pull her away, Anthony follows you both.
Daphne takes her brother's arm after he begs of you not to say a word about anything. You swear by it, looking him in the eye. Anthony thanks you.
You drift off from them as you enter the ballroom once again.
Anthony approaches Colin and tells him he is taking her home. He asks Colin to take care of their mother. You decide to step in and help. Anthony looks grateful.
Anthony and Daphne leave.
Colin looks at you, but you just smile softly at him and ask him to help you with Violet. He doesn't say anything about Daphne or Anthony.
Neither do you.
♡♡♡
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Strike! - Chapter 1
Montgomery Gator x F!Reader
Working at the Mega Pizzaplex was a sweaty, sticky, eardrum-exploding nightmare, but you just had to stick with it until you heard back from literally any other job. It couldn't be too long now, what was the worst that could happen?
AO3 Link
Navigation: Chapter 2
You're taking in the traffic hazard of a shirt when the thought occurs. It isn’t the first time, God no, but this time around it strikes you as a real, genuine consideration. The council had gathered, spoken, and all came to the same conclusion.
You should quit.
Enough was enough, right?
The job market isn’t fantastic at the moment, yeah, but there had to be something better than being yanked around by Fazbear Entertainment. They had their millions of STAFF bots and plenty of desperate people ready to fill in your position.
And yet, you still hesitated. Lifting the new button-up from the bed, you throw it on before you can second-guess yourself and grimace at your reflection in the vanity mirror. You’re entirely swallowed by the riot of colors. Somehow, the material feels scratchier than the last one. Bright lime green, vibrant purple short sleeves and a smattering of yellow spots. You’d only just gotten used to the Bonnie Bowl’s ugly uniform, even grew fond of it in a weird way, and now here you were, transferred to the attraction of the same animatronic that had taken your favorite’s place, sporting his colors.
Chewing your lip, you threw a glance at the alarm clock on your night stand. It wasn’t long before you’d need to leave if you wanted to make it on time for your crash course in manning the golf course. If it was anything like the bowling alley, it’d involve a lot of running around, herding sugar-rushed children, and being berated by slews of cranky adults. Only this time, there’d be no cheery blue rabbit to break up the tedium.
You sigh, and begin to toss around your bed’s blankets, searching for your phone.
There was no use dwelling on it, what was done was done and, hey, maybe it was a good thing. No more scrambling for an answer when a kid asked Where’s Bonnie? No more digging pizza and cake out of the gutters or discovering new molds in the rental shoes. Most importantly, you wouldn’t have to see Bonnie’s face plastered everywhere, wouldn’t have to feel that bitter sting like you’d lost a friend out of nowhere.
No, you thought, finally recovering your phone. I’ll just be digging pizza and cake out of golf hazards and have to deal with the animatronic that hates everyone.
But, checking your bank account, and thinking about the upcoming rent, you force aside the mess of feelings. God knows how hard it was to find a new job in this town, the reason you’d jumped to take a position at the Mega Pizzaplex in the first place, despite its less than stellar reputation.
So lime green button up it was. Collecting your Fazwatch from its charger, you toss a couple of spare clothes into your bag and make for the door.
---
Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex is located at the very edge of city limits, which makes sense considering its theme park-esque size. The parking lot alone is twice the size of your apartment complex. You pull into employee parking at the far corner of the lot, and complete your step count before you even make it to the doors. Gotta leave the most convenient spots open to the guests, after all. Your first manager had been fired for parking in lot E instead of F, actually. Horrible guy, always smelled like onions.
You pause at the front doors, fingers tightening around your backpack straps. Despite the fact that you’ve been draining your life away here for the past few months, your stomach is in knots akin to your first day. You can turn around right now. Go home. You shake your head to clear away the feeling. It was just for a while longer, you reason, and force yourself to step inside. You’ll start putting in resumes elsewhere as soon as you’re back home.
Inside is a familiar cacophony of lights, generic jazz, and boards advertising all of the fun you’d surely have within the walls of the Pizzaplex.
Scanning your employee ID at the front gates, you glance around the lobby curiously, trying to spot any familiar faces among the rest of the staff trudging along to their own designated areas of the ‘plex. You can’t help but wonder if your coworkers had survived the downsizing of the bowling alley, but you didn’t recognize any of the people shuffling along. Though, considering how you weren’t able to leave the bowling alley during your shifts and hardly ever felt compelled to explore when you weren’t on the clock, it wasn’t the strangest thing.
The lobby of Monty’s Gator Golf is entirely devoid of human life as you power walk through it. You flash your badge at the STAFF bot manning the elevator, who waves a hand and monotones, “Welcome back to work, valued employee,” before the doors slide open behind it.
You suffer through a prerecorded line from Montgomery Gator as you descend, and afterwards a few seconds of Glamrock music. It feels like forever when the elevator finally opens with a cheery ding and deposits you into the jungle, where you’re immediately hit with a new cacophony of noise. Bass music bumps through the speakers and periodic hisses come from somewhere within the space. Your new manager, Rodney, is waiting for you as soon as you exit. He isn’t subjected to the same horrendous uniform as you, dressed in a simple button-up and slacks, but he sports a garish spotted tie and, above his nametag, a Monty Gator enamel pin flashes. He glances up from his Fazwatch, and you’re immediately nervous at how unimpressed he looks. The managers around the Pizzaplex were . . . not well liked, to say the least. While you could sympathize with how stressful their jobs must be, juggling customer complaints, major attraction malfunctions, and so on, more often than not, they were strict as hell and quick to terminate employees at the drop of a hat.
Plastic retail smile sliding into place, you approach. “Hello, nice to meet you. I’m–”
“Welcome to Gator Golf,” Rodney says flatly, pulling a tablet from his pocket and tapping at the screen. “Let’s get going, you’ve already studied the map of the golf course, I hope? Security has more important things to worry about than finding lost girls.”
Jackass. You bite down your irritation and nod. How hard can it be to navigate a mini golf course?
“Good. I’ll walk you through your tasks today, but from tomorrow on you’ll be on your own. You’re not a new hire, so I don’t expect you’ll need babysitting.” He turns on his heel and begins walking, voice just loud enough for you to make out over the ambient noise. “You’ll receive a list at the start of each shift, and you’re expected to complete all tasks before you clock out. Anything left undone will be sent to me to review. If you need to work overtime to complete these tasks, you need to message me first.”
As you trail after Rodney, nodding along to his instructions even though he doesn’t look your way the entire time, you take in what will essentially become your second home until you can find a new job. Much like its reptilian mascot, it’s very in-your-face. The lights are dim and hidden fog machines churn out puffs of white that hang over the water hazards, further obscuring the plastic foliage that hangs from the ceiling and crawls up the walls and pillars throughout the course. Neon lights run along the railings, meant to guide patrons through the courses, with a sign designating each hole.
Compared to the open floor plan of Bonnie Bowl, this area felt much more enclosed. The curving pathways that skirt around the course’s main turf wind to and fro, with large fronds and near life-size trees further blocking line of sight.
As you crane your neck to admire the tiny yellow bulbs scattered throughout the foliage, you can just make out parts of a catwalk peeking from the darkness. There’s an upper half to the attraction, you remember reading about it in the email. The Hurricane Hole-in-One where patrons could ride around in carts that zip above the course and try to hit targets, spilling a massive bucket full of plastic balls into a pit below. It sounded more like a waterpark themed ride to you, but who were you to say where giant buckets could or couldn’t be?
“Most of your tasks will keep you here on the ground,” Rodney says, noticing your attention drifting upwards. “Guests aren’t allowed on the catwalks and maintenance takes care of the ride when necessary.”
You let out a silent sigh of relief when he turns back around. Heights didn’t scare you, per se, but you weren’t sure you wanted to test Fazbear Entertainment’s ability to keep suspended walkways up to code.
As you trudge on, you find that the noise is truly endless in this attraction, especially with the damned alligator heads constantly hissing as they pop across the course, wiggling and taunting you. Those were going to get real old, real fast. You almost ask Rodney if they had to be on constantly, but think better of it. He probably wouldn’t appreciate you interrupting his explanation of how often you’re supposed to check the rivers for lost items (at least monthly). You cast a wary look at the dark water. It smells stagnant, with a hint of chlorine and an undercurrent of pizza. You’ll have to bring your rubber gloves from home, just in case you aren’t out of here before having to suffer plunging into those depths.
As the two of you make it to the far side of the room, Rodney motions towards a red door half-hidden by hanging leaves. “You can go through here to get to the backroom. It’s where you’ll find the cleaning supplies and most of our inventory. The rest is kept in storage below, I’ll show you the way after the Pizzaplex closes, but you can find directions at the end of your Monty Golf Employee pamphlet.”
You have a feeling you’ll be referring to your map often for the first few weeks, but otherwise your duties don’t seem to be that much different from your time at Bonnie Bowl. Fielding questions and demands and complaints, directing the staff bots when messes and spills inevitably happened or having to clean them up yourself when those state-of-the-art machines couldn’t get somewhere. All of that on top of basic restocking, reshelving, and inventory for the gift shop, and confiscating Faz Cams when necessary, apparently.
“Any and all Faz Cams you collect can be brought back to the security office at the end of your shift.” He leads you to a different door and, through that, into the blandest hallway you’ve seen in this entire building. Beige tile walls and linoleum floors, not a poster or product placement in sight. Honestly, the cold and clinical feeling it gave you was almost eerie.
The security office is thankfully nearby, and with a swipe of his ID, the door sweeps open with a heavy clank, and beyond it is a sudden return to the Fazbear decorating scheme. Checkerboard floors and mascot faces plastered everywhere, and sitting before a massive screen displaying a multitude of tinier screens, you finally see another human being other than Rodney. The security guard startles a bit at your sudden appearance, letting out a hiss as coffee splashes over the rim of the paper cup in his hands. You wince in sympathy as he snatches a wad of napkins from the desk and dabs at his pant leg furiously.
Rodney grunts, but you can’t tell if it’s apologetic or not. “Guard, newbie. Newbie, guard.”
“Nathan, it’s Nathan,” the guard says, setting his cup aside and quickly getting to his feet to offer you a hand in greeting. You take it and give him your name in return. “Nice to meet you, I’m usually the one on shift here.” He looks nice enough, if a little nervous. A mess of brown curls escapes from beneath his security cap, and when he smiles a dimple appears at the corner of his lips.
“You know how to contact security already through the watch, right?” Rodney asks, his nose once again buried in his tablet. “Great. Then let’s go, you need to help open the course.” You barely get the affirmative out before he’s leaving the room, and you throw a hasty goodbye to Nathan, who gives you a pitying look, before scrambling out after him.
By the end of your first shift, you can’t wait to be left to the wolves. Having Rodney hover over you throughout every single task was driving you up the wall. He doesn’t help with any of the jobs, just . . . watches. You have no idea what he’s doing on his tablet, but you’re convinced he’s taking notes or already filling out your employee report. Periodically, guests stop you to ask for directions, where certain animatronics are at the time, or, in one man’s case, to notify you that he’d somehow launched his golf club into one of the trees and needed a new one. Rodney piped up every now and then, but it was clear this was a test run for you. There was no doubt that if he didn’t find your work adequate today, you might find yourself cut from the Pizzaplex sooner than you planned.
The manager over in Bonnie Bowl, Pam, hadn’t been much better during your first month, but she’d delegated your training to one of your co-workers. You suppose it makes some sense, you’ve been working here for a bit already and if you’re going to be going around mostly on your own it stands to reason the manager would want to know you aren’t entirely incompetent. But every raise of his brow and grunt makes your gut twist with nerves.
A wave of relief washes over you as you check off the final task on your Fazwatch, just a couple of minutes before you’re supposed to clock out, but Rodney clears his throat and you immediately tense once again. You turn to Rodney expectantly. You did good today, you know you did, but that didn’t matter. What matters is this old guy’s opinion.
He glances back at the now empty golf course, scanning the area as if he’s searching for something out of place. You bite the inside of your cheek, cold sweat clinging to your upper lip. Honestly, you can’t figure out if you’re worrying about being fired right away, and thus being a failure, or being deemed competent enough to return to this place tomorrow. Then, finally, he turns to you. “A decent start. I expect you know the policy for clocking in?”
“No more than two minutes before or after my shift without prior approval,” you recite. No getting a head start on work for you.
“Good. I’ll send you a review of your performance today. I believe in constant self-improvement and genuine hard work here.”
God, he was one of those bosses, huh? “Understood.”
---
With a yawn, you shrug on your jacket and sling your bag over your shoulder, novelty keychains clattering against each other. The locker room smells of sweat and someone’s forgotten lunch, but you’ve been in here enough that you’re getting used to it. It’s all but deserted by now with only a few stragglers like yourself shuffling about, with the exception of a single woman two lockers down from you. The security guard.
She looks wide awake, if not a bit grim-faced, as she tugs her blonde ponytail through the back of her black cap. A flashlight hangs at her belt along with a pronged baton the length of her thigh. You have to withhold a shudder at the sight of it. How many volts did it take to incapacitate an animatronic? It was only a precaution, you’d been assured the first time you’d seen your manager brandish it proudly, since all of the bots and animatronics were programmed to the teeth with the sole purpose of protecting their charges and wouldn’t in a million years be capable of harming a human–and yet.
Your job wasn’t all sunshine and roses, sure, but at least you weren’t the night guard. The thought of those creepy STAFF bots skittering about in the dark sends a chill up your spine.
“Cute magnet.”
You give a start at Vanessa’s comment, a small flush of heat crawling up your cheeks as you follow her gaze. The inside of your locker is pretty sparse, apart from a few sticky notes and some cheap round magnet clips to hold reminders, but near the top is a Glamrock Bonnie magnet, smiling cheekily and winking. “Ah, thanks,” you say, more than a little surprised that she’s spoken to you. From what little you’ve seen of her, she doesn’t go out of her way to talk to anyone first.
She doesn’t come closer, but tilts her head a bit, still admiring it. “They don’t sell those anymore, right?”
You frown a bit and nod. “Got it a couple months ago.”
Vanessa sighs. “It’s a shame they got rid of him, I always liked rabbits.”
“Me too,” you say, and the conversation dies there. After an awkwardly silent second where it becomes clear neither of you have anything to bring it back to life, you shut your locker and Vanessa blinks, and maybe it’s just the shitty lighting, but the dark circles beneath her eyes seem heavier than before. “Well, uh, have a good shift.”
Vanessa’s lips quirk, a shadow of a smile lightening her features. She lifts a single hand in a lazy wave. “Thanks. See you around.”
#montgomery gator x reader#dragon writes#monster boyfriend#animatronic boyfriend#five nights at freddy's#fnaf security breach#security breach#fic
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Turtle from WOF staying up late writing. Been wanting to draw this guy again and finally got around to it.
Also I joined a art club about a month and a half ago so I’ll post some drawings I made for a charity event that’s happening soon.
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aahh hello! was really excited to find another heartsteel blog <3
ive come with a more angsty topic if you're comfy w it!
reader spending time trying to get aphelios out of his shell after finding out he'll lose his voice- (and possibly a part of after it all happens, procedure and such- taking care of him)
thank you! ^^
Hiiii thank you for the request, and I'm super happy to find fellow heartsteel fans!! I wasn't entirely clear on the prompt (and this ended up more fluffy than angsty until the end asgjhkgdh) but I hope you like this regardless ❤️
HEARTSTEEL Aphelios x Reader
♡ Prompt: Comfort and encouragement before (and a little bit of after) vocal chord surgery
♡ TW: none
♡ Gender-neutral reader
Aphelios was always a quiet, thoughtful person by nature- but learning that he may lose his voice, his central form of artistic expression, was devastating to his self-confidence, pushing him into a depressive self isolation lasting weeks
It was heartbreaking to see the brightness of his gentle face drained, the sparkle in his eyes turned from mischief to fear... so you were determined to help him through this
Phel could be very stubborn and moody, hiding himself under blankets and pillows and absolutely refusing to come out. But with lots of patience and the promise of chocolate you could coax him out
You started with inviting his sister Alune to sleepovers. Aphelios wouldn't be forced to leave the house, or his room if he didn't want to, but his sister was very good at bringing a smile or soft laugh out of him, even for just a little while
You also began to take him out on walks through the neighborhood. You pointed out the songs of native birds, shared a fresh orange carefully snatched off someone's tree, or often times just walked side by side in comfortable silence
One time, some days before the procedure, the two of you found yourselves in a grassy park to relax. Aphelios sat criss-cross with his back against a tree and you laid your head in his lap while he played music on low volume through a portable speaker
For just a moment, he forgot about his worries, his anxieties, his grief, and began to sing along softly to the music while slowly combing his fingers through your hair
You closed your eyes and listened quietly, leaving him room to have this intimate moment with his voice- what could be one of the last
As the song ended, Phel came back into the present and blinked, both flustered at his vulnerability and sad that this personal vessel of self expression would soon be gone, maybe forever- but gazing at your kind, relaxed face, he realized he could get through anything, as long as he had you by his side
Post-procedure:
Despite Aphelios' initial protest, you and Alune spoiled the hell out of him every moment after he woke up from the procedure
His bed was all set up with the softest pillows and blankets, all his favorite snacks and plenty of water next to the bed within arm's reach, and TV hooked up to every streaming service you could think of
Doctor's orders were to not speak at all for the first few days, so a notepad and pen were provided, and if he needed anything he could text Alune or your phone to get your attention
You gave him space to process things whenever he asked, but whenever you got the chance, you were by his side in bed, keeping him company, telling him about all the latest news, or cuddling and watching movies together
There were a few moments when you would be holding Phel in your arms, and you felt him shake subtly- he was stifling sobs into your shoulder
You laid there in silence, rubbing his back, being his rock while he grasped his fear and sadness
He would never admit it, but Aphelios would always be grateful for these moments you spent with him at his lowest
#dragon writes#league of legends#heartsteel#heartsteel aphelios#AAAAA HERES MY FIRST ONE I HOPE ITS OKAY
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Kamen Rider Wizard
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Inamori Mayu, Souma Haruto, Nitou Kousuke
Series: Part 1 of Flock Together
Summary:
In which the White Wizard's protégés discuss his teaching methods, or lack thereof.
I think Mayu should’ve been brought back way earlier, and that they’d have some stuff to talk about. Such as:
"Mmm. He grabbed me too, once. I was knocked out in a fight, and I came to in a weird pedestal room."
"The pedestal room! That's where we trained most of the time."
"Haah? I hope you didn't have to sleep there. Does it have a bathroom?"
"It doesn't!”
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A little sneaky peeky into the next chapter because I enjoy amusing myself with my own writing
(for any of my readers seeing this I’m so sorry it’s been a stupid amount of time since I updated I know, it’s almost done tho!)
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The places abandoned and strange are those of Nowhere. The desert stretching endlessly towards the horizon, uncharted and unknown, is no-man's-land and the winding, creeping forest is located nowhere at all. The mysterious lifes here in the grand and the small. Sometimes Nowhere just means Everywhere as whispers sound trough abandoned, lonely, hidden places.
There is a path trough the places of Nowhere, winding and treacherous and those who follow are among the lost. Foxes move trough the brush, the air wavering in their wake and great mirages that devour entire forests wander in the sand. Lights sparkle in the swamp, guiding flames to welcome the dead and iridescent wings hide teeth filled maws on the trees. Something white gallops trough a clearing, the graceful creature vanishing as quick as it came and a cat's laughter glides trough the trees on feathered wings.
There is a court, hidden by its king. It's people are the stags of impossible paleness, those whose illusions make the real seem wrong, the roamers and wanderers lost forever. It's general is a mighty beast of the free, white and dead-horned and it's scribe is midnight black raven feathered and thousand cat-tongued.
There is a king, great and terrible and strange. Their shape is ever shifting, man and girl and impossible thing. Their head is crowned in feather fur and antlers, their feet hooves and claws and wings. But always their eyes glimmer with gold and the forgotten call them theirs.
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Hey everybody, just a reminder that I do a lot of fic and I love sharing! Here's some examples of my work, please feel free to comment or check.
Worm fic, based entirely around "chasing people is sexy", where Taylor attempts to flee from Dragon and Defiant post-Arcadia.
Barriss/Ahsoka fics that just. Ignore how she became Sith. It's fine.
Aloy character study.
My series, about JJBA, but gayer and with less dying. Anything from Jotaro/Kakyoin in P4, Kakyoin/bullying Rohan, and Avdol reverse pranking the Gangstars to the long-term project Take the Stars Home, about Giorno being invited to a Joestar family reunion.
What if the assassins mostly lived and Ghiaccio competed as a speed skater in the Olympics?
It is what it is.
My completed Jane Crocker/The Midnight Crew fic (she is part of the Felt, there's a whole Thing.)
My Finished mystery story about post-canon Homestuck, but something has Gone Wrong. A fix-it. And a mystery. And everything else, all at once. This is probably the best thing I've ever written. I'm so proud of it.
I take requests and commissions! I hope someone enjoys something I've written recently xxx
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I'm trying to find my motivation to write again
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The crossover no one asked for Iruma-kun and Fullmetal Alchemist
#marimashita! iruma kun#m!ik#welcome to demon school iruma kun#Fullmetal Alchemist#fma#Hagane no Renkinjutsushi#dragon writes#my writing#one shot#short story#au august#au
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Bridgerton shade of blue
Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Six - Splendid
♡♡♡
"Eloise Bridgerton."
Benedict calls his sister when he finds her smoking on the swing set in their garden. He sounded stern, as if scolding her.
Eloise groans softly as she turns on the swing. "Go on, then." She lifts the cigarette to her lips. "Chastise me."
"Spare one for me?" He asks.
Eloise is surprised by his question. He comes and sits on the other swing beside her. She holds a cigarette out to him, and he takes it, putting it between his lips and lighting it.
"Suppose I desire something different." Eloise says.
"How do you mean?"
"Just different. I watch Daphne prepare for these balls with all of those dresses and the many suitors, and I am exhausted. Suppose I want a different life, Benedict. That I truly believe I am quite capable of something more, even when I'm not allowed to have anything else."
"Then I would say... that you're not the only one." He looks at her. They smile at each other.
♡♡♡
With the next edition of Whistledown comes fascinating gossip. You find yourself, for once, clutching the paper with the need to read more.
It has become apparent that Lord Berbrooke has a child out of wedlock, and not only that, with a maid he had sent away before the child was even born. He pays nothing for the child, it seems.
Your mother had been gossiping about with the other ladies she had over for afternoon tea. In turn, their maids had gone off to gossip further.
Word spread like wildfire.
The next day, Lord Berbrooke had left town suddenly.
You made it a point to go visit Daphne. You were taken up to the drawing room where she awaited you, a smile on her face as you came in.
"It's nice of you to visit."
You take a seat with her. "I wanted to see how you were."
"I have expected you come see my brother," she admits.
"Benedict? As much as he has become my friend, I felt the need to come see you. Are you alright?"
"I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders." She smiles softly. "I am glad he is gone."
"As am I. Wretched man, he was."
You both giggle softly.
"So, the duke? He is still on your favour?" You ask.
Daphne goes silent for a moment, and then her face twitches. A realisation. The realisation she must still pretend.
"Ah, yes." She smiles.
You smile in return and take her hand. "You make a most handsome couple."
"Thank you." Her voice wavers.
You do not bring up Hastings or Berbrooke again as you have tea with Daphne. The conversation becomes pleasant. Daphne finds herself talking to you about anything that comes to mind. Not once has any of her siblings sat down and listened to her like this.
It felt nice. Really nice.
An hour passes, and you find the teapot has been emptied twice in that time. There are no more biscuits to share either. You rise from the soft sofa and gather you purse.
"Thank you for letting me visit."
"Oh, nonsense. You are always welcome." Daphne smiles.
"I shall visit again then."
Daphne looks pleased by your words.
"Benedict will be so disappointed you came by and didn't stop to see him."
You chuckle. "Let him suffer. It may humble him."
Daphne chuckles and sees you out.
♡♡♡
The next ball is as dazzling as the others. You swear with each one, Daphne gets more and more beautiful. She enters with the Duke. Of course, everyone sees.
You entered with your mother, no one paying you any mind what so ever. Not that you minded any more. You had come to terms that no one would visit you.
As Simon and Daphne dance, you decide to take a walk. You have no idea what it is they discuss when alone together.
You keep your eyes peeled for any familiar faces. Yet, no one else is present in this current room.
Meanwhile, Daphne parts from Simon and is approached by another gentleman. Her wish to find a husband and have a family may very well come true.
As you enter the next room, you find Anthony in there talking with some others. His gaze lands on you, and he excuses himself from the current conversation. He approaches you.
You smile and bow your head. "Lord Bridgerton."
"Anthony, please. You call my brothers by their name."
You smile. "Anthony."
"Benedict isn't here, I'm afraid. He has elected to sit this one out. May I have the honour?" He holds out his hand.
You take a moment to take in his request. Anthony was head of his family. A viscount. Dancing with him would surely bring you attention.
You place your hand in his. "You may."
Anthony takes you back into the other room and leads you to the dance floor. He holds you as a gentleman should while dancing with a lady. You both move with the music.
Anthony look very firm as he dances with you.
"I must say, this is an honour."
"Is it?" He asks.
"I never see you dance."
"No. I suppose not. I am not beyond dancing with friends." He says kindly.
"Then I am even more so honoured to be considered such."
You both continue dancing until the music ends. You curtsy, he bows. Anthony takes your hand and leads you back to the side of the room. With swift ease, he marks his name down on your dance card.
"I shall see to it you are never left without a dance partner, my lady," he says with a bow.
You smile.
As Anthony returns to the party, you find yourself now being looked at by others. There are gentlemen looking your way.
Could it be true that Daphne is not the only one who can shine?
Soon, you are dancing again, and a few more names are scribbled across your dance card.
You think, perhaps, Daphne Bridgerton is your good luck charm.
It makes you giddy.
Safe to say, your night was splendid indeed.
♡♡♡
@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333
@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173
@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner
@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -
@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy -
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Strike! - Chapter 3
Montgomery Gator x F!Reader
CW: None
AO3
Navigation: Chapter 1, 2
Monty, regrettably, had been right. Your pathetic knot didn’t hold the gauze together for longer than a few minutes.
Perhaps you shouldn’t be so surprised. After all, the animatronics are programmed with extensive first aid protocols for their young charges. If only your good ol’ employers had kept the first aid stations as well-stocked at the bots’ protocols.
Sitting in the sparsely furnished break room, you fiddle with the gauze on your hand, a sad lunch of wilted salad sitting abandoned. A sun-faced clock ticks loudly in the quiet, leering down at you with white, painted eyes.
What had Monty been doing, lurking around the course so late? You were under the impression that during the night, the animatronics were confined to their greenrooms for recharging, at least that was how it’d been a few months ago. Plenty has changed since then, you suppose. Maybe it was some new security protocol that management had “forgotten” to mention to you. It certainly hadn’t been in that stupid pamphlet.
Your phone vibrates against the table and your hand shoots out to grab it, nearly knocking over your water in the process. With bated breath, you navigate to your email, praying to anyone who will listen to the prayers of exhausted employees that someone’s finally seen your qualifications—and then promptly deflate, tossing your phone aside. Just spam.
You glower up at the clock. At the hands creeping by, at the hours you had left before you could get home and take care of your hand properly. “What’re you smiling about?” you mutter up at it.
The door flies open, nearly sending you into cardiac arrest. You hiss in pain as your knee slams against the underside of the table.
“Oh! So, they didn’t fire you?”
You grit your teeth as the very last person you wanted to see sweeps in, a wide smile on his face and a takeout box in his hands. When he sets it on the table, you catch sight of a label of a popular restaurant back in the city. Your stomach churns and your mouth waters, but you refuse to be jealous of Magnus, of all people.
“Nope,” you say, refusing to meet his eye. Not for your lack of trying, asshole.
Magnus is all legs and self-satisfaction. His tight white top is dotted with pastel green triangles and bubblegum pink circles, workout shorts practically painted over his lean thighs. He’d been relocated to Chica’s Mazercise, it seems, and by the smug expression he wears as he takes in your loud button-up, he considers it the superior position.
“They threw you in the swamp, huh?” He chuckles and begins to unpack his lunch. “It suits you.”
Don’t take the bait, you tell yourself, and start cleaning up the untouched salad. You hope the message is clear, I’d rather starve for the rest of my shift than be in a room with you.
Magnus shovels a forkful of steamed vegetables into his mouth and watches you with a raised brow. “Aww, don’t feel too embarrassed. The shirt’s cute.” On the table, your phone announces itself with another vibration, screen lighting up with a notification.
Heat gathers in your cheeks and you snatch your phone off the table before he can read it. Because you know he fucking would.
“What? Got dirty texts coming in?” He laughs at the idea, giving you a disgusting view of half-chewed sesame noodles.
“Hey, did you finally apply for a new job? Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t bail the moment they sized down the bowling alley. I mean, I would’ve if I were you. Can’t imagine how hard it’ll be, not being able to spend all your shifts just bowling with the star—”
Annoyance lances through you at the implication, but you keep quiet and toss your trash away. Magnus had a chip on his shoulder for no good reason, showing his true colors not long after he’d been tasked with training you way back when you first started. If there was a silver lining to being transferred, you supposed it would be getting away from him. Rodney wasn’t exactly a step up, but at least he barely spoke to you other than to give you orders.
“Good luck getting that crazy gator to give you special treatment.”
Anger flares in your chest and you round on him, not missing the way his lip quirks in satisfaction. “I never got special treatment—"
BEEP BEEP. You glare at the Fazwatch, at the numbers counting down the minutes to the end of your break.
“You better get going, wouldn’t want to get written up,” Magnus drawls, breaking apart chopsticks. “No Glamrock to cover for you, now.”
You clench your jaw, turn on your heel, and storm out of the break room.
---
You met Bonnie for the first time a week into the job.
If the back hallways and utility tunnels were a mind-boggling maze to someone who’d been traversing them for months, they were an impossible labyrinth to newbies, and especially to newbies with trainers who spoke a mile a minute when telling you how to get to the nearest employee break room.
You’d given up trying to find it at your Fazwatch’s fifteen-minute warning and simply plopped down on the grody concrete floor, gobbling down your sandwich miserably. You hoped you could find your way back to the bowling alley in time.
Heavy thumps preceded the animatronic that rounded the corner, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Bonnie!
You’d seen him around the bowling alley, but only from afar. Up close, you couldn’t help but take in every detail of his look. The shiny blue casing, the bright eyes that flashed as they scanned you, the sharp claws meant for shredding bass.
Pizza mascots had come a long way since your childhood, that was for sure.
You’d expected him to keep going, he was obviously on his way somewhere, probably a birthday party or a VIP meeting, avoiding the crowds of the Pizzaplex by lieu of the utility tunnels. It came as a great shock when he stopped in front of you, lifting a grand paw in greeting.
“Well, doesn’t that look appetizing! I mean, it’s no carrot cake, but to each their own, right?”
Bonnie tilted his head at you curiously, awaiting your answer. Instead, you could only fumble around a question of your own in response as you scrambled to your feet.
“Are you, uh, lost?” you asked, then cringed, because of course the animatronic with a computer for a brain wasn’t lost in his own facility.
Bonnie flashed a smile. “Nope! Are you?”
With an embarrassed wince, you nodded. “I was trying to find the break room, but I got pretty turned around. . .”
“I can take you there, if you’d like. However, you’re scheduled to be back from your break in seven minutes, and it’ll take about four to get to the break room!”
“Yup.” You sighed. “That’s why I’m eating here.”
“I can help you find your way back, since you’re a Bonnie Bowler,” he said, punctuating the sentence with a cheeky wink.
“No, no,” you said immediately waving away the suggestion. If there was one rule your manager had hammered into your brain amongst the dozens of others, it was not to interfere with the main animatronics. They were there for the guests, and you were there to make sure the rest of the guests’ needs were met in the meantime. They weren’t paying you to have fun or hold up the stars on their way to make money for the company.
“Really?” For a creature made of metal, he did a fantastic job of expressing disappointment. “Are you sure?”
No. “Yeah. Thanks, though,” you added, dropping your gaze.
“How about directions back to the alley? I even know a shortcut. I’ll tell you if you promise to keep it a secret!”
You’d smiled at him then, amused by his words and his determination to help. You made it back to work with a minute to spare and swore you’d find a way to thank Bonnie when you saw him next.
---
Monty seems to have gone by the time you return, the golf course yours once more. You begin to tap away at your Fazwatch to put in a maintenance request for the bridge, only to stop short as you find a STAFF bot in a hardhat and a yellow vest already at work.
Apart from you, Monty, and whoever the security guard was, there was no one else to have put in the request. You certainly hadn’t. So that left the gator or whoever had an eye in the sky. Unless the security guard was going above and beyond the call of duty, you were sure it was Monty. It was his course, as he’d said.
An uncomfortable thought surfaces. What if he’d mentioned that it was your fault the stupid railing had broken in the first place? He hadn’t seemed to care that much, in all honesty, but he was notoriously unfriendly towards staff members. It didn’t seem like a huge stretch for him to do his job of making sure you received first aid and then reported your ass for carelessness.
It makes your skin crawl with unease, not knowing. As much as you wanted to bail from the ‘plex, you weren’t stupid. Without any income, you’d burn through your meager savings in less than a month. And if that happened, well, you’d have to suck up your pride and call—
You shake your head. There was nothing you could do about it now. Whatever was going to happen would happen. With the high turnover here, you were probably overdue for a firing, if not a write-up.
When Rodney finally reappears, it’s a few minutes before the end of your shift and you’re vacuuming in the gift shop. You stiffen when he approaches you, preparing for the worst, only to receive a heavy clap on the shoulder and a “good work, kid” before he’s gone again. You stare after him, still unsure if he knows about the railing.
The feeling follows you out of the front doors of the Pizzaplex and all the way to the end of the ocean of a parking lot. You slump into the driver’s seat and start the car, eyes drooping. How you manage to make it home without crashing, you’ll never know, but after locking the apartment door behind you, you’re going through the motions, throwing a frozen meal into the oven and tossing your clothes into the washer. When your meal’s eaten and your clothes are tumbling about in the dryer, you shuffle off to bed, eager for a dreamless sleep.
You plug your Fazwatch into its charger and snuggle under the covers, unlocking your phone one more time to check your email, just in case something materialized in the last few hours.
Your breath catches and you shoot up in bed.
There’s just a single new email, and the sender? Fazbear Entertainment’s automatic email. This alone sends a spike of anxiety through your chest, but then your eyes dart down a line and—
Subject: MISSING: SECURITY REPORT
#montgomery gator x reader#dragon writes#animatronic boyfriend#five nights at freddy's#fnaf security breach#security breach#fic
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youtube
Fire and Wind
#shrek#pete's dragon#spirited away#mushu#trogdor#alduin#world of warcraft#aurene#dracolich#alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu#runescape#monster hunter#legend of dragoon#darkeater midir#fire emblem#primal rage#nightshade#paarthurnax#seath the scaleless#skylanders#tiamat#volvagia#ysera#dragon quest#dragon queen#dragon warrior#dragon writes#dragon wings#dragon witch
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Kamen Rider Wizard, 仮面ライダーガッチャード | Kamen Rider Gotchard (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Souma Haruto, Inamori Mayu, Nitou Kousuke, Kudou Rinne, Ichinose Houtarou
Additional Tags: Cameos by Souma Haruto's Toku Polycule
Summary:
In which the Kamen Rider magic ring club welcomes new members.
I FINISHED WIZARD 2 WEEKS AGO AND IT HAS INFESTED MY HEART. HAVE THIS HENSHIN RINGS USERS CROSSOVER.
"Let me finish writing this down! You were saying?"
The person he was talking to gesticulated with what looked to be a normal cream puff.
"You see, the whipped cream was too light in contrast with the burger patty. Whipping the mayonnaise makes it lighter and fluffier, which works with the delicate choux pastry, but it's still savoury enough to match the patty, while keeping some of the sweet element of the whipped cream. And making the patty smaller keeps the whole dish from being too heavy."
Pour one out for Ichinose’s burger-puff in the Majade show debut.
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Imagine teasing Zhongli in his tiny dragon form...and it backfires.
"My daaaarling!" You smooch the bajeezums out of your husband, who is currently small, fluffy, and chonky for your cuddling convenience. "My precious sweetie pie!"
Tiny dragon Zhongli purrs in delight and licks your cheek, eyes blissfully closed as he enjoys the attention he's receiving. His little paws cling to your top as his chunky tail wags like crazy. On leisurely days like these, he adores lounging around like this with you. "Ah, there's not a single being softer, warmer, or cuter than you," you tell Zhongli, booping his little nose, and he gives you a mrrrrp! of agreement, wiggling.
Eventually, through all the cuddles and compliments you give him, a mischievous grin spreads across your face. You bring him closer to your face.
"Since you're smaller than me...shall I eat you?"
You laugh in delight as your fluffy little husband wriggles in dismay, but you're not letting go - you playfully chomp the air around him while he lets out soft whines, pawing and grrring in futility at you.
You can't help it; he's so much fun to tease! "So cute! I'm gonna eat you! Raaaah!"
He then decides he's had enough and morphs back into the human-form Zhongli you are most accustomed to.
"Oh! Hello my love!" You make to cuddle your now-grown man of a husband, but Zhongli adjusts his position over you so that he's practically straddling you now, his hands splayed on either side of your head. "Zh-Zhongli..?"
"Hm." He brings his thumb to caress your cheek. "I am that amusing when small, is it?"
"Well..." You squirm in embarrassment, and gasp when Zhongli nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, reveling in your scent. He then begins to make use of his teeth and tongue, making you shiver and whimper after his hot breath lingers.
"So cute." He softly bites your shoulder, a preamble for what was to come. His golden eyes gleam bright as the ghost of a teasing smirk plays on his lips.
"Since you're smaller than me...shall I eat you?"
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