#so this was just some idle fun to relax a bit

[the-modern-typewriter]

hey I'm so sorry if this is is an unwanted request, but I wanted to ask for a hero x villain story where the villain kidnaps? And tattoos the hero. I think it would be very fun and dramatic. A very permanent and painful reminder.

I really love your work, I've read pieces of your writing for years. Keep doing what you're doing <3

"Hold still, or it's going to be wobbly," the villain said. "Nobody wants a wobbly tattoo, do they? That's just lame."

The hero snarled at them, wordless, unable to do much more with the bit wedged in their mouth. It was, according to the villain, to stop the hero from biting through their own tongue. So, that was nice and reassuring.

They could struggle, but not enough to stop what was going to happen. The grip the villain's various lackeys had on them was too firm and unforgiving. Still - the presence of hands, instead of cold metal, tried to trick some part of their lizard brain into thinking they had a real chance of escape if they just tried hard enough.

They didn't. They knew they didn't. But they struggled all the same, eyes flashing, breath ragged. They'd been forced onto their back on something that looked a little like a dentist's chair, head pinned sideways to face the villain. They only had vague impressions of the rest of the room. Bright light.

The villain had pulled up a chair next to them with their kit.

"So," the villain said, in an affable sort of voice. "It's going to hurt a little, like we talked about. That's mainly because of the location." They began their work, carefully, and the hero squeezed their eyes shut. A whimper escaped them. It was not a little. "Ribs don't have a lot of fat, you see, and you're quite sensitive anyway. But you said that's where you'd get one, so, far be it from me to dictate."

The hero had said hypothetically they would get a tattoo on their ribs. Because it looked cool. They hadn't done any research and they certainly hadn't been serious about it. It had merely been idle conversation with someone they'd thought was their friend.

They'd also said that they would get a jellyfish, or maybe a small bird.

The hero tried to see what the hell the villain was doing, but they couldn't get a good look beyond the distressingly elegant curve of the villain's head.

"I figured you'd want to be conscious, though." The villain laughed, softly. "I wouldn't want to wake up and find out someone had just done something to me, you know? Makes it hard to process it. Freaky."

The hero swore at them. They liked to think the sentiment got through, even if it was just raw sound. Choked.

"You'll look so gorgeous when you're done, though," the villain said. "Don't worry. I'm a professional. I've done this loads of times before."

The hero knew that. That was the problem.

The villain's super-abilities were unusual enough that it had taken the hero far too long to realise that the villain had any, and that they were in fact a monstrosity rather than simply the sexy artist that the hero had met in a bar. Whatever the villain painted, wrote, inked or drew was woven through with their power. It could come alive. It could influence. It could harm or heal that specific area at the villain's whim.

It could, in short, do all manner of things that the hero did not want permanently etched into their skin.

Everyone close to the villain had a tattoo. It didn't bode well.

"Just breathe," the villain said. "You're doing so well. It will be easier on you if you relax."

The hero swore at them again. It didn't make them feel better.

The villain worked on them for what felt like hours. If it was a jellyfish, it was a truly massive jellyfish that curved all the way up their side. The hero still hadn't got a good look. At some point, they'd stopped writhing in the chair, exhausted.

They felt dazed when the villain finally lifted their head, meeting their eyes again. The villain brushed a tear away from the hero's cheek. It reminded the hero to jolt again, but the hands on them remained as relentless as ever.

Another small, involuntary sound left them.

Their skin felt hot. Sunburnt.

"All done," the villain said. They finally eased the bit out of the hero's mouth. "You should have some water. Are you going to drink it nicely?"

"What the hell did you do to me?" the hero demanded. Their voice was raspy.

"It's gorgeous. You'll love it. Water?"

"I don't want anything from you!"

"Good skin is important to good tattoos. But, hey." The villain shrugged. "I can't make you." They gestured for their lackeys to release the hero.

The hero surged up in an instant, fist already flying towards the villain's face. In an instant, their body froze, knuckles inches from the villain's face. It didn't matter how much they strained. They couldn't move.

The villain raised an eyebrow. "You'll want to make sure to keep it clean, to avoid any infection," the villain said. "And don't pick at it, okay? Stay out of the sun. No swimming."

"What did you do to me!?" It came out through gritted teeth.

The villain smirked at them. "I gave you a jellyfish. On the house. You're welcome."

The hero glared.

"That's what you wanted, right?" the villain asked.

"I didn't want this."

The villain shrugged. "I did, though. For the moment I saw you with your clothes off"

"You-" Words didn't feel enough to express the emotion that coursed through the hero at that. "I hate you."

"Yes, I get that quite a lot. I don't generally let it bother me. You do all look so pretty fuming, helpless, at my mercy."

The hero swallowed.

The villain waved a hand, and whatever strange paralysis had overtaken the hero, vanished. They staggered forward, nearly pitching into the villain's lap. The villain caught them to steady them, hands on their waist.

It should have been excruciating, to have the villain's hand on the tattoo, but instead there was a buzz of pleasure across the hero's skin that definitely wasn't normal. They wrenched back as quickly as possible, heart pounding.

Their fists curled, itching with the urge the punch again, but they didn't quite dare get close.

The villain beamed at them, eyes glittering with mirth, apparently knowing exactly what the hero was thinking.

"Now," they said. "Do you want a lift home? Or do you prefer to take a moment to recover here?"

"You're sick."

"I'm up and coming, darling. One day you'll thank me for it."

The hero peeled the bandage off the moment they were at home, alone, to try and get a good look at their new acquisition.

It was a jellyfish, just as the villain had said, inked in full colour and in exquisite detail and artistry. It seeped blue and purple into the hero's skin, with the smallest tinges of shimmering pink. The villain's initials were weaved into the jellyfish's umbrella, subtle to someone not looking for them. Small but there.

The hero didn't remember hitting the bathroom floor, only the dull feeling of their knees giving way beneath them as it all well and truly sunk in.

They could feel it against them. It was almost as if the tentacles were moving, gently, caressing their ribs. As if the villain's fingers were there, a ghost of a blazing touch.

They got a horrific amount of compliments about the damn thing.

#take the 'x' with a pinch of salt here #heroes #villains #villains and heroes #heroes and villains #writing #story #ficlet #whump #whump writing

[ao3cassandraic]

Kayfabe: A Good Omens meta

"Kayfabe," in wrestling, is the performance (including outside the wrestling ring) of whatever storyline is being woven around the wrestlers. Breaking kayfabe is Serious Business for a wrestler; the illusion is part of the event. If you ever wondered how John Cena could anchor an entire HBO miniseries brilliantly, kayfabe is a big part of the answer.

Because of their histories and how their respective Head Offices treat them, Crowley and Aziraphale approach their version of kayfabe -- their whole "I am an angel! You are a demon! We're hereditary enemies!" schtick, also their "we are good bad proper little footsoldiers, honest, Boss" schtick to their respective Head Offices -- very, very differently.

I promise there's a point to this. I PROMISE. But let me walk through it first.

Both of them know that one awkward question to Upstairs at the wrong moment and its Fallsville. Crowley, however, knows a couple of things that Aziraphale doesn't have to:

Punishment isn't just once; in some ways, the Fall is never over. Beelzebub or Hastur can throw you in the Dung Pits whenever, after all, or feed you to a Hellhound, or zap you like an Eric. Crowley's lot do not send rude notes. (s2: we do not know what happened to Crowley after Hell dragged him back at the end of the Resurrectionists 'sode, but I think it safe to say it was not great for Crowley. Litotes: your key to quality meta.)

Downstairs can and does check in -- or drag Crowley Downstairs for a chat and possibly a bit of idle torture -- whenever they feel like it. Downstairs seems pretty disorganized, especially its leadership, so I'd expect ad-hoc surprise inspections from them. Downstairs can invade Crowley's flat's TV, his Bentley's radio, and his very mind to perform those inspections. Crowley is never, ever safe from this. He can't relax. Ever.

Heaven, on the other hand, has 37 levels of scriveners and zero interest in Earth. Talk of "reprimands" and "miracle budgets" and Michael being a stickler and whatnot suggests a formal review process happening on a schedule, governed largely by the dreaded (but quite possibly fake-able or spinnable) "paperwork" rather than direct observation by Aziraphale's peers or superiors. Otherwise, Aziraphale is usually left to his own devices. Remember how startled he is when Gabriel shows up at the sushi restaurant in s1? This is unusual!

(We also know from Muriel that Heaven's records office doesn't seem to get consulted a whole lot. It's possible this just means that first-through-thirty-sixth-level scriveners handle everything, but in my experience of large bureaucracies, it's the folks at the bottom of the hierarchy who invariably get run off their feet first. Don't see why Heaven would be any different.)

Moreover, Heaven's punishments seem pretty light, on the whole? Our angel is so anxious and so sensitive to slights that I'm sure the reprimands aren't fun, and nobody likes a reduced miracle budget... but Heavenly "needs improvement" reviews don't seem to be a patch on the Dung Pits. The real threat is Falling, which is more than horrible enough to serve as deterrent; Heaven doesn't need to add torments.

Moreover moreover, Aziraphale is mostly aligned with his Head Office in a way that Crowley really, really isn't. I'm sure Aziraphale does a lot of his Heaven assignments with a song in his heart and a skip in his step -- it's mostly not smiting or the like. Crowley... probably spends a lot of his work time figuring out how to obey the letter of Hellish law while defying its spirit. Crowley's in far more danger of angering his bosses.

So Aziraphale doesn't have to keep up kayfabe a lot of the time, not even while interacting with Crowley. He can and does save it for the rare occasions Heaven takes a personal interest. Crowley, however, must keep up kayfabe always, whether Aziraphale's there or not. The courage it must have taken that snake to slither up the wall of Eden!

The way Crowley navigates his permanent need for kayfabe is twofold. First, his all but instinctive refusal to accept any positive word or compliment about himself or his actions from anyone ever -- "I'M NOT NICE!" If Hell were ever to hear someone characterizing Crowley that way... That's also why Crowley is a bit less exercised when Jimbriel calls him nice: "nobody'll ever believe you."

Second, a species of Orwellian doublethink: maintaining a running commentary in his head of how he's going to justify any unHellish actions to Hell, since he can never know exactly when he'll have to or what exactly they'll have a bug up their butt (sorry, Beez) about. Even high as a kite on laudanum in the Edinburgh cemetery, Crowley can explain his current justification (in a curiously sober voice -- is Crowley ever really high in that scene? or is it all kayfabe? I lean toward kayfabe) to Aziraphale, "Not kind! Off my head on laudanum, not responsible for my actions."

We can see the kayfabe mismatch play out a few times, and it does appear that Aziraphale gets more concerned for Crowley's safety and more aware of Crowley's need for kayfabe post-Arrangement. That doesn't mean he always remembers, of course -- he wouldn't, he just doesn't have that same desperate need. And, of course, the ineffable walnuts do not communicate, as s2 went to some lengths to point out. I do think kayfabe is part of that -- it's hard for Crowley to be sincere when he's constantly doublethinking, and Aziraphale's off-and-on involvement with kayfabe (and all his other tendencies toward lying) disincline him to achieve or even learn about honest communication.

One s1 scene I went back and rewatched while thinking about this was the Globe scene, which contains Aziraphale's Saint-Peter-esque three-time denial of Crowley. I find it easy now to read that as Aziraphale going "oh crap do I need to drop back into kayfabe now? I didn't break kayfabe, did I?" and Crowley grinning, at least partly as reassurance. (Partly, of course, because Aziraphale is cute and funny even when kayfabing -- and partly because Aziraphale's sudden drop into kayfabe is Aziraphale trying to protect Crowley, of course Crowley's pleased by that.)

The wall pin, now that I think about it, also gains a little nuance from this. Crowley's fear-laced ire is genuine, but how many times must Aziraphale have heard Crowley snarl at him not to break kayfabe in this way? No surprise he's a little unimpressed. (With Crowley's demand. He's clearly very impressed by Crowley.)

In the s2 Job minisode, Aziraphale hilariously drops kayfabe (and that epic whole-body halo, loved that, great job FX folks) almost immediately. Crowley allows it, because Crowley is on firm ground -- Hell will be just fine with Crowley wrapping the angel in a Chuck-Jones-cartoon amount of scroll parchment and flipping him off.

When angel and demon collude on the con later, of course, they observe kayfabe, improv-style -- Crowley helps Aziraphale deal with the Job's-children situation without giving either of them away to the watching angel posse. Interestingly, it's Aziraphale who de-gecko-izes the kids. That gives Crowley an out, sort of: "look, the mansion collapse missed them because they were in the cellar, I turned them into geckos, totally Hellish thing to do, they'd never survive in the wild, but then this bloody interfering angel went and changed them back!"

And how does Crowley console a distraught angel who thinks he's about to be dragged to Hell? Crowley explains kayfabe in the fewest and clearest words possible. "Well, yeah, you did, but... I'm not going to tell anybody. Are you?"

So yeah. That's kayfabe for the Ineffable Walnuts.

But I promised there was a point to this, didn't I? Yes, I have a point.

My point is...

my POINT is...

my point IS...

(not dolphins, not this time)

My point is, how much of s2's Final Fifteen Minutes is kayfabe?

That's my point.

#good omens season 2 spoilers #gos2spoilers #gos2 spoilers #ineffable husbands #ineffable walnuts #kayfabe #good omens meta #the point is not dolphins

[ceruleancattail]

I have thoughts about Agent reader and Ground Control Idia.

It’s an odd thing to say, but you know every little quirk in his voice. It’s hard not to, when he’s in your ear whenever you’re deployed. The way he clicks his tongue whenever you go the wrong way, the monotone drone as he gives you the orders from the big guy himself, even the laughter he tries to stifle whenever you complete a mission successfully… you know it all.

You could be in a room blindfolded, but if you heard one breath from Idia, you’ll still be able to find your way back to him.

He banters with you, sometimes. Little sarcastic quips into your ear whenever you veer off the perfectly charred plan he made for you, or some snide remarks on the place’s security.

More then once, he made you chuckle when you’re on site. Snide remarks about your target’s… less-then-presentable attire, and some very unflattering jokes made on their expense.

It’s horrible, trying to keep a straight face once Idia gets going.

However, it does help you relax. You could feel the tension leave your shoulders, your stance drop from battle-ready to something more normal.

As much as he jabs at you verbally, Idia does care. You can feel it, even with just his voice. The slight panicked edge it takes when the enemies are closing in. Oh, Idia has a plan, no doubt. Also, you’re more then capable of escape.

But he hates seeing you through the screen, placed in a situation where he can do nothing but talk. It feels very pointless sometimes, being so near to someone you care about, and yet feeling so far.

If you ever get hurt on any mission, be prepared for a blur of blue to rush at you once you’re back. As much as Idia would love to handle your injuries personally, you’re in safe hands with Ortho. He’s the state of the art in the medical field. Idia trusts Ortho’s careful hands.

Of course, that being said, Idia doesn’t leave your side. Not until you’re all patched up. Somewhere, somehow, you’ll find his hand slipped into yours. Fingers intertwined.

Trembling, even.

He does care. Quite a bit.

Of course, you’ll get quite the scolding after you’re up and about. Some chiding about how you love to go off script. Look, as much as Idia hates to nag, he hate seeing you hurt even more. So just… try to take care of yourself.

Value yourself, even just a bit more, ok?

Ever since you’ve partnered up with him, you learnt how to joke along with him, to send him little jabs of your own. You’ve learnt his little quirks, his old habits, and you’ve adapted to them. It’s odd talking through an screen sometimes, but as long as it makes Idia feel a little bit more comfortable around you.

Truth to be told? You have fun, talking to him. Even if it isn’t mission-related. You’ll like to think he does to. Idia does whisper into your ears, even when you’re supposedly “off-duty”. It’s a little more softer, then.

Awkward questions about how has your day been, the weather’s rather chilly today, hm? You can’t help but chuckle then. It’s cute how he tries to bait you into making idle conversation, but what the hell?

You’ll bite. It’s a refreshing change from the high-paced, tense missions you two seem to always be in. You tell yourself that you’ll indulge him, give the poor guy some company.

Who were you kidding?

You’re the one constantly coming back to him.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #Idia shroud #Idia shroud x reader #Idia x reader #Idia #Agent reader #Ground Control Idia x Agent reader #lucky charm🔷

[mazeinthemiroh]

seo changbin boyfriend headcanons

genre: fluff

word count: 0.7k

warnings: none

requested?: yes

song rec: tomboy by g-idle

please like and reblog if you enjoy! feel free to request anything <3

this soft boy, oh gosh here we go...

he makes my heart skip a beat so this gonna be fun

changbin. the man, the myth, the legend

he's an amazing guy, what can i say? respectful, loyal, genuine... god it's so hard not to fall in love with him

idk as a boyfriend he is just the sweetest guy you could ever ask for. he technically acts the same way with you if he was just besties. the main difference is, once he's your boyfriend he tones up the affection to 100%. no holding back anymore

this man is SO TOUCHY

physical affection is totally his thing. he finds himself just wanting to touch you or hold your hand or anything like that because he just needs that contact

he's not ashamed of any pda. he doesn't care who's watching: he's kissing and cuddling and squishing your cheeks no matter who is watching! he's cute like that

even if the other members were to make fun of him for being a massive softie with you, he literally couldn't care less

"you're just jealous that i'm in a happy relationship"

he's so petty lmaooo

btw i mentioned cuddling... yeah there's gonna be a lot of that

changbin works out a lot. he's got a lot of muscle on him, so his chest and arms proved to be a perfect pillow give me one chance changbin ONE CHANCE IM BEGGING so it only makes sense to snuggle into his perfect body and enjoy having his arms wrapped around you

he likes doing spontaneous things with you. it's always a fun time around him. you're always getting up to some sort of mischief

also loves spoiling you omg

he doesn't make a big deal out of it but damn he buys you so many quality gifts because apparently he can't help it??

will talk to you about anything. usually when he speaks to you it's very casual and general chat. he's very comfortable talking about anything with you. if you want to talk about anything important or personal, he's very attentive and provides you with any support you need

for him, he's a very open person, especially if he has his trust in you. there are not a lot of things he would keep from you. how he views it is: he wouldn't date you if he didn't trust you. and with that, he can know in his heart that he can be vulnerable with you if needed because the mutual love and trust is there

likes to spend his nights just relaxing and unwinding from his busy day at work. there are occasions, of course, when he will stay late at night in the studio or bring some work back to do at home. he tries to make time for you but there are some things he can't help. he appreciates how supportive you are of his career, either way. and he always makes sure how much he loves you for being so kind to him as his partner

above all, he wants to be a source of comfort to you. and he sure does a good job at it

dates with him would include:

gym dates - i mean this goes without saying but if you MUST be told again, changbin loves/lives in the gym. he would love for you to share that part of his life, even if you aren't particularly keen on working out. he also proves to be a very good personal trainer so there's a plus! working to improve himself with you makes going to the gym even more of a joy for him. he would appreciate you joining him a lot and finds it all the more fun to workout with you

food date - a bit of a contradiction, i know. changbin not only loves food but also likes to taste and try different types of food. he loves going to different places in the city to try street food or other snacks that he wouldn't usually get by himself. makes for a fun experience with you <3

late night walks - changbin loves the outside but especially at nightime. he also thinks it's romantic going out for a walk in the dark with the city lights lighting the way. it's a good opportunity to have deeper talks with you as well as check out any nightlife

overall, he's the sweetest guy you'll ever meet

#changbin #seo changbin #stray kids #skz #kpop #skz imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #skz headcanons #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #skz fluff #skz scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #changbin x reader

[notroosterbradshaw]

slow dancing in a burning room - five.one

word count: 4.5k

warnings: nsfw 18+, language, angst. starting to get a bit rougher here, kids.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

a/n: thanks to those who read, reblogged and commented on previous chapters. you’re doing god’s work. I know this series is a bit different to what you’re used to from me, so I hope you keep reading. I truly appreciate all the effort you make to show your support x

four.

You’d taken some time off to get Bradley settled into the apartment after the incident. He was quick to try and convince you he didn’t need a babysitter, unless you had ulterior motives to spend days at home alone together, and he wriggled his eyebrows in that way that would make you giggle and roll your eyes, it was all very over-the-top and romcom.

But he could admit, he needed you to help him with little things that hurt more than they should and you freely admitted, much to his chagrin, that you wouldn’t be able to concentrate with him at the apartment by himself if something happened.

Not surprisingly, he was stir-crazy after a few days which didn’t surprise either of you. Bradley Bradshaw did not know how to relax. He wasn’t big on vacations (he didn’t have a big friend group and could find a million reasons to prefer time to himself than be wrangled into stuff with his work friends). He freely confessed he was easily comfortable in his own company, but it was pretty evident quickly it was different when he was banged up and more or less under house arrest.

He'd powered through the book you’d hoped he’d enjoy in about three hours (he had to assure you he really enjoyed it so it was easy to scream through) so you relied on Amazon to deliver almost daily, channel surfed relentlessly, he was no good at binging TV and napped off and on through the day. But it simply came down to idle hands. Fine in his company on his own terms, but with strict orders to rest his head and give his body and mind time to heal – no gym, no running (nothing that he could exert himself with... including sex), no booze, no fun, he had reasoned – Bradley Bradshaw was figuratively climbing the walls. 

Physically, aside from a few bumps and bruises, he appeared absolutely fine, but he couldn’t lie and pretend his head wasn’t still splitting and much to your annoyance, he was resisting the painkillers as frequently as he could. What he was trying to prove, you weren’t sure, but it seemed unnecessary to continue the discomfort for the sake of it and you let him know gently each time he refused the pills you held to him.

“My body, I’ll choose what goes into it,” he told you with a tight-lipped smile, ignoring his lunchtime pills and bopping you on the nose instead.

“Okay,” was all you could shrug kindly. What else could you say and do? Anyone who had met Bradley knew he was no kind of pushover. He could have a certain gruffness, an agitation to him. Quiet and reflective if you didn’t know him, but he’d talk you under the table once he was comfortable with you.

But push him; he will resist. He’d said years ago if he had to put his life into a song it would be Corduroy by Pearl Jam, you understood it implicitly these days.

I'll take the varmint's path Oh, and I must refuse your test A-push me and I will resist This behaviour's not unique

You wandered in to find him cooking a few nights later, the waft from the front door absolutely delicious. You loved it, Bradley was a wonderful cook just like he proved he would be and you loved coming home to find him whipping something up in the kitchen.

He was one of those freaks who could watch a 90-second YouTube clip and figure out a recipe easily, inspired.

It infuriated you that he might have been a better cook than you were too but you would never tell him.

But God, you could get used to this, you realised. He hadn’t heard you come in (you snuck in quietly without fanfare after you’d walked into him dozing a few times that you didn’t want to interrupt just in case he was getting some well-deserved zzz’s). You carefully wrapped your arms around him, feeling him jolt in surprise before chuckling quietly. You kissed between his shoulder blades over his tank, he gave a quiet moan in response and he reached back for you. “I’m home, sweetheart.”

“Welcome home, love,” he said, turning to face you. The cuts on his face were well on their way to healing, but the purple rims around his honey-drenched eyes from lack of sleep overnight were evident. You didn’t know why he wasn’t sleeping and weren’t comfortable asking him yet. He certainly wasn’t complaining of being tired but he didn’t mention each morning that he was staying up all hours.

His palms held your cheeks and kissed you gently, a series of loving pecks. “Missed you today,” you admitted. You quite enjoyed coming home to him and you hoped he agreed. This moving in with a boy wasn’t too bad in all honesty. Not one that cooked, was incredibly tidy and about the sexiest man you’d ever met... that happened to be as infatuated with you as you were with him.

“Me too,” he smiled, his lips kissing the arch of your brow.

“What are you making me for dinner tonight, Chef Bradshaw?” you peered under his arm as you saw your large pot with a rolling boil of water.

“Vodka pasta,” he said. “With a glass of wine?” he asked hopefully.

“Sorry baby, but you gotta be patient a few more days until the doc gives you the green light, okay?”

He groaned. “There are too many OK’s I’m waiting for…” he muttered, a little restless. Maybe a bit petulant.

“I know,” you snuggled into him, your fingers tracing the elastic waist around his basketball shorts.

“I only really want one OK though. Just a tender green light,” he whispered, urging his hips forward to rest against yours. “Miss you, just wanna fuck so bad,” he whined.

You offered him a careful smile but didn’t answer. What could you say? You knew he was downplaying the pain in his ribs still, and his headaches weren’t vanishing as quickly as he’d like regardless of the multitude of ways you’d been fantasising about how he could please you while you couldn’t be intimate for now.

You’d offered a blow job here and there, and he appreciated the offer, but he admitted it wouldn’t satisfy him the way being tangled up with you could. “Whatcha get up to today?”

He raised a wary eyebrow at your abrupt change of topic, kind of hating being left hanging when you’d normally have fallen into some sexy banter with him that would always lead to something even more risqué. He sighed silently and turned back to the stovetop while you gave him space and propped yourself on the bench while he tasted the simmering sauce. “Netflix. Went for a run – ”

“Bradley – ” you tried as you saw his brawny, tanned shoulders tense.

“Love, please don’t. I needed the run – clear my head a bit,” he explained, not looking at you.

Okay. “Did you have the Telehealth with the shrink?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said quietly, a gentle nonchalant shrug creasing his features.

“Go okay?”

He turned back and sighed, resting his big hands on his slender hips, exasperated. “I just don’t wanna do the shrink, okay?” he confessed. “Please don’t give me a hard time about this.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, but he stared back, daring you. He knew you had something to say but he had years of trauma to work through and you weren’t surprised that he really didn’t want to go back to the start and overanalyse every horrible thing that had happened in his life again. Who could blame him? “I don’t blame you,” you conceded. “I know it sucks to feel so on display like that. Raw. But you and I both know it’s for the best.”

He hummed, but there was nothing pleasant about it, it was almost a growl. “You’ve had years of therapy… tell me honestly,” he straightened and guided you to the corner of the bench, where he pressed between your thighs, his hands massaging your quads, keeping you in place, well and truly trapped by his presence.

“What?” you asked softly, his imposing frame hovering over you.

“Tell me if the shrink is going to bring my parents back, or if it’s going to make my job any easier,” he watched your face so sternly and a dark sneer rose as your jaw gaped gently. He hummed, already pleased at your reaction.

Well, that was blunt.

“Bradley – ” you tried.

“No, really. I need to know. You come home once a week quiet and disillusioned after your session. I am watching you work through your issues, but really… what has it truly fixed? How has it healed you, love?” he asked, probing deeper. “You still refuse to talk to your dad, the mere mention of him upsets you – ”

“Bradley, please…” It wasn’t about you this time.

“My dad died when I was four, I barely remember it or any trauma from that time. All I recognise is the sympathy I get every time someone mentions me being Goose Bradshaw's kid. I’m nearly fuckin’ 40.”

“Yes, Bradley – ”

“I haven’t finished,” he muttered. “I watched my mother die when I was 17 and moved on with my life. I do things in my job that make me proud and shatter me all at the same time, but I still function every day. I know the weapons I use cause more damage than good, no matter what the leaders of this country say. No matter what my superiors tell me about the honourable peacekeeping I’m supposedly doing. Why can’t I just process these things on my own?” his voice was so even, you were finding it hard to meet his eyes. “I think I have done a fuckin’ great job to now.”

“Because you love what you do – ” You tried to remind him of the stipulations made to get him back in the air. Ribs healed, mental health functioning well. In the greater scheme of things, it made total sense he’d have those hoops to jump through.

“Why does someone else get to decide if I’m mentally fit to get back in my jet? That person knows nothing about me. Nothing about my childhood, school, college… Mav. Not how in love with you I am, how someone else now gets to dictate if we’re intimate – which is also killing me,” he added for good measure. In himself, he knew he was perfectly capable to please you, but each advance was delicately refused and while he knew you were only doing what the doctor ordered – he hoped – it was starting to eat at him too that you were keeping your distance. He volunteered to repeatedly go down on you, but you told him you were okay and looking forward to moments you could share together, just like him. He accepted that, but just because he couldn’t be pleasured didn’t mean he wanted you to go without too. It was a woeful cycle.

“I know, sweetheart. I miss you too.”

“I could just have you right here… I feel fine, and you feel so fine to me,” he whispered against your jaw, nose nuzzling your pulse. “But you’re just like them at the moment. You see that I’m still me. I’m healthy. My body is healing… but you’re resisting too,” he said, retracting his body steadily and moving back to the stove, checking the sauce as you recoiled, immediately missing his touch.

He had far too much time to think about things, with or without the shrink’s help.

“Bradley, just give your body the time it needs,” you tried although the way his body rescinding like that made you feel bitterly cold. You missed his warmth quickly.

“It’s in right working order,” he snapped your name. “I’m fucking fine and I don’t need a bunch of lab-coated douchebags, or you, to tell me different.”

You held your hands up, slipping off the counter. “Okay, okay,” you stood down… on many fronts. You walked to him and bunched his tank at the chest in your palms and brought his lips to yours. “I’m sorry. I see that you’re doing really well. You’re the best judge here.”

“Thank you,” he said softly. “I need you to hear me, love,” he pleaded, bobbing to rest his forehead against yours. “No one else seems to.”

Hearing a knock at the door, you gave Rooster a quizzical look and he gave a small smile. “I invited someone to dinner.”

“Better not be my dad...” you muttered as he shook his head, a weak, apologetic call on his lips.

“Of course not,” he pulled himself from you and stood to height, heading for the door as you poured yourself a cool glass of water, even if a half dozen tequilas seemed more appropriate. You’d been home ten minutes and your nerves were fucking fried. You clutched the sink, trying to centre yourself and upon hearing your name, you looked up at Bradley as he stood side-by-side, mountaining over the man that made his life miserable all those years ago.

“Maverick, hi,” you managed to say, biting back the choking feeling in your throat as he gave a slight wave and presented you with a half dozen burnt orange roses. They were beautiful and Bradley grinned at the gesture.

“Been a while,” he said softly and if age wearied him, he was certainly showing it. “What’s it been? Fifteen years or so?”

You shrugged, a little shellshocked, gazing at Bradley who was very interested in his tanned bare feet suddenly. “Could be…”

“How’s your grandpa?”

“He’s good. Usual Viper,” you supposed as Mav nodded.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Maverick said as Bradley joined you, resting his palms on your waist as he held you from behind. “So, you weren’t kidding, kid. You two are very much together.”

“This is the love of my life, Mav,” he pressed a kiss into your hair as you pushed through with your smile, hoping it didn’t appear as confused as it was feeling and Maverick smiled, fondly. “Love, Mav is here for dinner if that’s okay with you?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you said, forcing the affirmative into your voice.

Where the fuck had this come from?

“I appreciate the invite,” Maverick said.

“It’s no problem,” Bradley spoke up

“I guess I’ll set the table…” you loosened Bradley’s grip and thought maybe, just maybe… you were going to need that wine to get through the night. “Mav, can I get you a drink?” you asked politely.

“I’ll just stick to water,” he replied.

Fuck.

“No problem,” you said, pulling away from Bradley to collect some glasses and busy yourself elsewhere.

“Bet you’re glad to have Bradley home?” Maverick asked as you collected the crockery. He held his hands out, hoping to help you. You let him, the room was far too small for a snarky comment not to be heard by all. Not to let Bradley feel your discomfort.

You gave a kind smile and contemplated your answer. “Of course. But I suppose not in these circumstances.”

He nodded faintly. “I understand. I want you to know I did everything I could up there to keep him safe – ”

“Mav,” Bradley cut in. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything.”

“I guess it could have been a lot worse,” you agreed, and that tone of seeped through. Fuck it, you said. They might not have been drinking, but you were going to make this discomfort a little easier on yourself at least and went to the fridge for the bottle of rose you’d been resisting, not wanting to drink around Bradley while he was recommended not to.

“Good drop,” Mav said, calmly. He could feel the air around you – the confusion, the hurt. He knew Bradley probably hadn’t told you everything – regardless of what was classified or not. Bradley had said there were no secrets between you, he had told Mav how in love with you he was on the way home, evacuated to safety. Maverick wouldn’t leave Bradley’s side, regardless of his orders. He was going to make sure Bradley made it back to dry land, safe and sound.

Feeling a hand on your hip, Bradley tenderly kissed your temple. “Grub’s up, love. Take a seat, I’ll stand.”

The apartment was just not conducive for three. No room for a dining table, you generally ate together on the couch or at the counter on the stools when an effort was made. “No,” you reassured him, softening as he smiled at you, his palms cupping your jaw before he lightly kissed you. “I’ll stand.”

Bradley came to bed lightly later that night. You’d left him and Mav to chat for a while, before excusing yourself at a reasonable time to shower and take your leave. In your PJs, you had moved on to your book, what you were reading you weren’t quite processing, your head dizzy with your distraction. Each time you heard a laugh you felt more confused than before.

Pete Mitchell was in your apartment. And he’d been willingly invited by Bradley Bradshaw. When had this narrative changed?

“Lovvve,” he drawled, crawling into bed with you. He crept his body over yours, not daring to sneak between the sheets. “Thank you for tonight,” he pressed sweet kisses into your forehead, temple and finally the tip of your nose. He wriggled his thighs between yours and took your book, tossing it towards the bedside table – its crash suggesting it well and truly missed it, bookmark be damned.

“Hmm,” you replied, but he knew it was a more put-off sound as he chuckled quietly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sure seems it,” you replied.

“No, really. I’m sorry,” he said with a little more sincerity, but the fond grin and dancing eyes told the story. “Kiss me,” he whispered, nudging his nose with yours.

“Why didn’t you tell me Mav was coming over tonight?” you blurted out before his lips touched yours and he paused, jerking back slightly. “I didn’t think you could stand him.”

You searched his face. You could see his brain working and trying to find an excuse that would appease you. And when he said to you, “We’re trying to work on our relationship,” you almost pushed him off you. He had you pinned for a reason but sadly for you, he was under the microscope.

“What happened for anything to change? A month ago, you were dreading him as your CO… now your buds again? My brain can’t even compute the venom you’ve spat at him and then he’s in my kitchenette for dinner and I have to pretend he hasn’t hurt you - ”

“Our kitchenette,” Bradley correctly you gently. “I live here too, remember?”

Sighing, you ran your thumb against the faint gash healing on his neck and his eyes fluttered closed, sweetly. “Yes…” you corrected yourself. “Our kitchenette. But I still need some warning about stuff like this, roomie.”

He nodded. “Okay, you’re right. I fucked up there.”

“What happened for everything to change between you and Mav?”

He sighed and rolled to your side, his thigh still curled over yours. “It isn’t that simple.”

“Then spell it out to me. Because tonight over dinner, you two were as thick as thieves. You hardly missed a beat.”

He gave a gentle smile but his eyes begged for mercy. “Do we have to do this right now?”

“Well, I could have asked when he appeared three hours ago, but I figured that may have embarrassed you both,” the sarcasm dripped from your tongue and you were trying so hard to remain calm.

“That’s fair,” he had to admit. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t give you any warning. That was wrong of me.”

“It’s just a fuckin’ text, Bradley,” you sniped quietly.

He nodded. “You’re right, I should have at least given you that much.”

“I felt like a complete idiot. You gave me no time to prepare.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you handled it beautifully,” Bradley laughed quietly at the grimace that shrouded your face and his face softened as he kissed your temple. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I’ll be more considerate of inviting guests.”

“It’s got nothing to do with guests,” you pursed your lips together, the fever burning under the surface of your skin simmering as you closed your eyes a moment and you felt Bradley move to his pillow. “It’s Mav. Singular. One guest.”

You looked at him as he crossed his legs; for a moment, you wondered if you’d gone too hard. He wasn’t angry, he was passive, and that might have made you more furious. “He helped raise me when Dad died. He tried to after mom died.”

“And he pulled your papers from the Academy. I know all this.”

“He told me he pulled my papers because I wasn’t ready to trust my instincts. I was too reliant on the rules and unprepared to break them if need be.”

Remaining quiet, you willed him to go on.

“Before I left, I know I was the worst to you. My moods were deplorable, I was a fucking asshole to you. And I wasn’t lying when I say Mav got to me every single day. The night Phoenix and Bob were caught in the bird strike…” he sighed. “I fuckin’ laid into him. I didn’t tell you. It just came out, I guess compounded with everything else that had happened that day. I wanted to take his goddamn head off, I hadn’t seen red like that in years. And I remember coming home and taking it out on you, my sweet girl,” he frowned sadly. “I should have been able to handle my business better and not take it out on the one person that I love most in this world. I don’t know why you stay by my side, because I know I’m hard to contend with…”

Sighing, you rolled over to face him, twirling a loose tendril that curled above his brow. “Think you’re the first grumpy flyboy I’ve ever dealt with?” you asked fondly as he flushed a little. “I just want you to be okay. And you’re only a few weeks away from returning to desk duty. But you know you need to go through the motions. Don’t take it out on me, they aren’t my rules.”

“I know,” he dropped his eyes. “I shouldn’t be lashing out, I’m just so frustrated.”

“Trust me, I know.” 

“The shrink thing is really bothering me,” he confided quietly.

“I know, sweetheart,” you pressed your thumb into his temple before scootching closer and wrapping your arms around his shoulder, cradling him tenderly in your arms. He breathed in your body wash, grounding himself. “You’ll get through this. I’ll be right there beside you.”

“Thank you,” he murmured quietly against your chest. His lips pressed against your tee until you could feel the sweet kisses against your jaw… then pulse. His large hands circled your waist, dragging you to him. You so badly wanted to resist, but he was so warm, smelled so good and felt so strong against you. “I love you.”

He nuzzled to your lips, those first slow steps of how to make you come undone. “Bradley…” you warned. He hummed in reply, but it was a dare. He was willing you to ask him to stop but resistance was futile as his long fingers walked under your nightshirt, grasping the meat of your hip and pushing his thigh between yours, opening you to him, his kiss relentless.

“Feel good?” he asked softly. He was desperate for you. He hadn’t felt so pent up since he was a stupid horny kid. He didn’t know how frustrated he could feel until the option for intimacy was snatched away from him. Your diligence to stay true to the doctor's orders was obscene to him. He didn’t realise how by the book you could be… from him, an irony.

And it had been so hard for you to resist him – your beautiful boy deserved to be loved but every time he touched you, you were positive you’d hurt him. And while he was healing, he still needed time, something he was unwilling to apprehend when he felt fine in himself.

Fine.

Fine.  

“You’re resisting,” he muttered, his tongue tracing your lips. There was a tension in his voice, it was subtle, but you could feel it to your bones. “Why are you holding back?”

You sighed and pulled back a little. His frown clouded his handsome face and he huffed, rolling back to his pillow and staring hard at the roof above him. “Come on, it’s only another few weeks, sweetheart.”

He rubbed his face. “Jesus Christ, don’t you think I’m the best judge of my body?”

“Of course – ”

“Since I’ve gotten home, you’ve looked at me like I’m I should be wrapped in cotton wool. You won’t touch me, you won’t kiss me, am I that hideous to you?”

You sat up, a little insulted. “Bradley, no of course not – ”

“Christ, when did you decide I was so repulsive to you? I’ve always had these scars, you know,” he hissed, his tone sharp. “I knew you hated them.”

“Bradley, my God, you’re spiralling. What are you talking about?” you reached for him, but he moved wide from your touch. This man beside you, Bradley... he was reaching. You were only trying to be considerate of his injuries - 

“Can’t we just fuck? Jesus Christ. If you don’t want to be with me, just fuckin’ say it already.”

“Hey, hey,” you said softly, cowering on yourself. “I just don’t want to hurt you. I'm sorry, Bradley,” you said meekly. “There is no other reason – ”

“I said I feel fine. It’s a few bruises. Why won’t you fuckin’ touch me? I come near you, and you find every excuse under the sun to get away from like me.”

“That’s not true – ”

“Like hell it isn’t.”

“I don’t mean to, I’m just so scared to…” you replied.

He pulled his shirt off, a large, long bruise still over his right pectoral. You’d guessed it was from the seatbelt shunting him back into his seat when the jet -

When the jet crashed. When he could have died. 

“Please baby, I need to feel you. Please don’t be scared of me,” he begged.

“I’m not scared of you, Bradley,” you told him, moving closer and kissing his bruised though soft skin. He moaned immediately and laced his fingers into your hair. It was a reaction he couldn’t stop, even as he seethed at the same time.

“Then don’t be scared for me, either,” he urged, though the softness in his voice returned from your familiar kiss. “I’m really fuckin’ good at what I do.” The double meaning in his tone told you. “I’ll always come home to you.”

And while you believed it because he was with you right now, that was all that mattered regardless of his to tell you the whole story of what happened that day to get him (and you) stuck in this predicament.

hiatus.

masterlist.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

#notroosterbradshaw #rooster #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster angst #rooster fanfic #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw x reader

[originalgenshinscenarios]

I am so sorry Miko for this assignment to Ayato 😔

Part 1 (Lisa, Kaeya, Diluc, Rosaria)

Part 2 (Zhongli, Kokomi, Hu Tao, Baizhu)

Alhaitham, Ayato, Nilou and Yelan monster scenarios with human reader

Reader here is gender neutral

Warning: for the sake of it being a romantic story rather than dark fiction the description of Jorogumo is in a few ways inacurate on purpose.

Warning 2: researching Naiads was hard asf since I kept getting different sources to different questions I had so apologies ahead if I accidentally wrote something in an inacurate way.

Alhaitham- stone golem

Have you ever seen a man as gorgeous as a statue? Well... he was a statue at first. You remember how often you used to sit nearby it whenever you had an idle moment. It was in a secluded place, sometimes you even wonder if anyone else knew about it.

Sometimes, when you were feeling a bit alone- you talked to him like he was your friend. You couldn't take out some frustrations in your everyday life, so why not just talk to a statue that has no way of responding or judging you?

One day however you noticed something. The statue had a hole on his chest (at least that's the time you actually paid attention to the hole), like something was supposed to be there- but it was nowhere to be found.

You started to look around it. You had no idea what you were even looking for, but you just got a bit too curious.

Luck had it that not long search later you found a gem behind one of the bushes. Without hesitation you put it in the hole which caused an interesting reaction...

The statue moved. It's voice was very pleasant unlike what he said "And what did you wake me for exactly?" Judging by his tone, he wasn't exactly happy about being awakened.

Of course you had no idea that he would wake up so you told him that. To which he called you ignorant for not recognizing something as "basic" as a cursed gemstone.

You decided not to argue with him. I mean it'd be like talking to a stone wall. Which you sort of were doing before...

It was getting awkward at this point, especially since he was indifferent to that. So he just left...

He knew exactly where he was going so he must've been "asleep" for not a long time. He didn't pay you much attention. Actually he acted as though you weren't there.

So you decided to just leave him alone. It was as simple as that. But a part of you continued to be curious about him.

Especially since it was hard not to pay attention to him. You saw him around quite often. Whenever he was reading something, he was still. Looking once again just like a statue.

A very handsome one. If only he wasn't such a stone hearted asshole. But it's not like you can expect much of a guy who literally has a heart made out of stone if he has one to begin with.

One day, you were feeling a little frustrated. So you went back to your usual spot. It was weird coming there knowing that the statue isn't there anymore but when you got there you were surprised to see him.

He didn't feel the need to explain himself. It was clear that he just wanted some peace and quiet. And that's exactly what this place was giving. With a little hesitation, you sat down next to him and just allowed yourself to relax.

You enjoyed each other's company in silence, until he asked what made you come here this time. To which you looked at him surprised.

It didn't take long to connect the dots, although earlier he was "asleep" he still was concious and aware of the things around him.

You didn't know what to do... But in the end you told him a short summary of your recent worries.

And as earlier the point of talking to a statue was the lack of judgement, this time you felt it more than ever.

Then again... Having an active conversation helped you more. And to be honest... You had fun. He was blunt, and while his words did sometimes hurt his lack of social understanding was... Cute in a way.

Ever since that moment, you found yourself getting closer to him. He didn't talk to people much, but he started to look for excuses to talk to you.

When he caught feelings and recognized them he also didn't see any point in pretending. He was blunt even in his confession, but you accepted his feelings.

Honestly you were freaking out yourself a bit before that when you started to fall for him. I mean what were the chances of him returning your feelings when he wasn't exactly the type to be interested in romance.

And yet here you were. With a man who's heart was a stone- and yet it was beating for you.

Ayato- Kitsune

Recently, you found yourself being the victim of some harmless pranks... although you could never tell who or what was pranking you or were you just unlucky.

Each time you went through that path between Konda village to Inazuma city some minor inconvenience happened to you. And nobody but a few foxes were there to witness it.

You started slowly suspecting that you were being harassed by Youkai, and you were pretty sure of that actually- there is no buts here.

And since it was always in company of foxes there was no mistaking it that at least one of them was a fully sentient Kitsune. It wasn't that hard to guess which one was it though.

So next time you were pranked by it's illusions you decided to check your theory. You walked up to the white fox, it had an incredible fluffy tail- or perhaps was it because it had more than one?

You asked what their deal was and they acted dumb for a moment, making you question your sanity. Eventually it got bored of pretending and changed forms. With how childish these pranks were, you were expecting some kid. Instead you saw quite a handsome guy...

You didn't recognize him from anywhere. But his clothes were rather fancy, so he could be some sort of big shot you had no way of recognizing. But how would he have so much free time to prank you like this?

"Ah and so you caught me, I was wondering how long it'd take" his voice was mischievous but at the same time oddly appealing.

You only wondered what did you do to gather such attention around yourself. But there wasn't any real reason for it actually.

It was just a coincidence, and your reactions just happened to entertain him enough to keep his interest.

He tried to leave once his cover was off, and you managed to stop him to ask for his name... And you were surprised to learn that he was actually someone important.

Ayato was never much of a public figure, even though his name is known by many nearly nobody had seen him.

There were a lot of rumors about him as it was... him being a Kitsune actually explained a few of them. But since it wasn't a common knowledge among the public, he sure was great at masking his Kitsune features.

In the end it didn't matter much. It wasn't very likely for the two of you to continue crossing paths.

He won't catch you off guard anymore, and he "interacted" with you for the sake of entertainment... Yet a part of you had fun as well.

He added something to those walks of yours and while sometimes you prayed to not run into him... At other times you were wondering what he'd do next.

You didn't see him on that path for about a week, so you were pretty sure he won't show up here ever again... But then you fell victim to his pranks once more.

Turns out that he was actually busy for once but the moment he had the time he went back hoping to see you again. Actually, his schedule is always tight. It's just that he found himself always being able to find an excuse to go to that spot.

He couldn't quite explain it, but he found himself falling for you at a first sight. Your first meeting was a coincidence, but everything after it wasn't.

And he was right to trust you. Because even though you knew what he was, you didn't pass that information onto anyone. Even if you didn't do it because you thought you wouldn't be believed... He appreciated such "loyalty".

Eventually he stopped entertaining himself with your reactions, instead whenever your paths crossed he indulged in a nice conversation with you.

He wasn't surprised to find out that he was right in having feelings for you... But he only silently adored you.

There was a lot of barriers that should be keeping his heart away from you. From social status to your mortality. And yet he allows himself to have those joyous moments with you.

Nilou- Water Nymph (Naiad)

Getting lost in the desert wasn't something on your to do list and yet here you were. Dehydrated and desperate. Your Sumpter beast ran away as it got scared of something.

You were trying to follow it but it quickly lost you and so you could only rely on the traces it left... but the wind was slowly taking care of them so you needed to be quick.

From afar the beast's tracks conveniently were towards an oasis... so you started to wonder if it wasn't an illusion. But you had no other choice but to follow it.

You were really lucky as it turned out to be an actual oasis, and as you reunited with your beast you noticed that you weren't alone.

A pretty lady was dancing on the water. Standing on it like it was solid ground. And thus you wondered now if you weren't just dead or asleep so pinching yourself you react to it causing the lady to turn around and notice you.

Seeing you in such a dire state she immediately walked up to you and asked "Oh dear..! Are you okay? Do you need help?"

Once again you started to wonder if you didn't die and the pretty lady wasn't an angel. Her sweet voice, graceful moves and gorgeous face really were making you question your state of mind.

But your exhaustion was getting to you, so before you got to respond to her you passed out.

Nilou panicked at first but she quickly pulled herself together and tried to help you. She took care of both you and your beast and waited for you to regain consciousness.

She was patient and other nymphs teased her for worrying so much but she just couldn't help it.

Once you awakened she wanted to help you prepare to head back home... But first you needed to rest and she was very insistent on it.

As you rested you got to know her better and you very quickly got to get along. It was almost like you could knew each other for ages.

She was just so such a kind and gentle soul, talking to her was relaxing. It was maybe even a little bit too perfect.

But you weren't too surprised about it, after all Nymphs are supposed to be perfect... Right?

Your departure was sad for the both of you. But Nilou tried to mask her disappointment when seeing you leave.

She was only wondering if she'll ever see you again. While you were asking yourself if you really just fell in love at the first sight.

You soon found yourself reading more about Nymphs and there were maybe one or two romance stories between a Nymph and a human you stumbled across while researching...

There was one major problem though, you had no clue where to look for that oasis. But when there's a will, there's a way.

You felt it was a little bit insane to risk your life just to meet Nilou again... But you'd also go insane if you wouldn't be able to speak with her soon.

You prepared yourself for the expedition. Hoping for a little bit of dumb luck to guide you.

And guide you it did. Just as you were about to give up you saw it in the distance. Now you only hoped that it was the right one. But you had your suspicions since it wasn't on your map.

Upon seeing you she was really surprised... But also extremely happy. Just like last time the two of you decided to rest together and talk the night away.

This time however you didn't let your interaction end on "what if"s you asked if she wanted to come back with you. You didn't ask her for anything big. Just for her to be your roommate and if she's okay with it girlfriend.

Although it would make her mortal she didn't hesitate to agree. It was spontaneous, but she definitely wasn't going to pass an opportunity to see you every day.

Yelan- Jorogumo

There has been a lot of odd cases lately. The milileth would be suddenly summoned for arrest of various criminals, just for them to be found in something that looked like spider web.

At first you didn't really pay mind to that odd occurrence. Until a pretty lady showed up in your life. Coincidentally, around the time where you were being threatened.

You accidentally happened to hear a bunch of idiots talking about their "perfect plan" on causing some mayhem in the harbor. And ever since you were told to keep your mouth shut or everything will be pinned on you.

So it was hard to trust anyone. They could've been sent as a distraction or maybe the pretty lady was sent to plant some evidence while you weren't looking to make you look guilty.

And although you couldn't deny how... Charming... She was. You weren't some idiot that would do anything for a gorgeous woman.

Then suddenly she leaned into your ear and said "We're being watched. Follow me and I'll explain everything" her tone was serious. But it wasn't said in a way to further threaten you.

With some hesitation, you decided to temporarily trust her. So once the two of you were alone she explained that she knew what was going on.

She introduced herself and said she'll help you. But you needed to cooperate with her. Before you agreed to it blindly you asked her what her plan was.

She just needed you to act as a bait. And while you didn't like the sound of that... She was rather convincing.

It was just before they started setting everything up. They had all the evidence they could have on them and the moment couldn't be more perfect.

You waited for those bandits and as you looked around, you didn't see Yelan anywhere. You started to think that she was setting you up but you had no time to further think about your doubts as the group was there.

You started to act as though you wanted to join their scheme. After all, you're already involved.

You didn't talk much, you were just buying time that's when you noticed for a split moment that Yelan was here. Dashing between the trees. You had no idea how or why for that matter.

When she was done doing... Whatever that was she interrupted your conversation. When the bandits tried to attack, her incredible speed impressed you once again.

And those who she didn't catch in her spiderweb in that run, got caught by the web that was set on the trees.

As the two of you were leaving the scene, you heard the milileth in the back. Everything happened so fast you honestly had no idea what to think. Especially since you witnessed the person (?) behind all these odd occurrences.

When all of it was a done deal the two of you were walking back to the harbor in silence for the first few minutes.

You had so many questions... And yet you said nothing. She was the one who eventually spoke up, she asked if you were okay.

Somehow, from that question the conversation started moving in it's own direction.

It was rather enjoyable, you soon found yourself really enjoying her company. It was hard not to.

So your interactions didn't end with that situation. You ended seeing each other quite frequently- and you'd be lying if after some time your intentions weren't purely platonic.

She was just so interesting and awesome in every way. Even her creepy spider quirks were just something you couldn't help but admire.

You hoped that you weren't delusional and you're right in suspecting that she likes you too...

Without wasting much time, you told her how you feel. She wasn't very surprised by this but she didn't mask that it made her happy to hear you say so.

You were glad the "trap" you had fallen into was love and not her web.

~Mod Lisa

#alhaitham gi #alhaitham genshin #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #ayato kamisato #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #genshin ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato x reader #gi yelan #yelan gi #yelan x reader #yelan genshin impact #yelan #nilou x reader #nilou #genshin nilou #genshin impact nilou #nilou gi

[darkestprompts]

What do the heroes like to do when relaxing?

Vestal: She enjoys taking time for herself and do some self-grooming. Taking care of her hair, removing leg hair, taking a good long bath.

Shieldbreaker: She has a routine to unwind her muscles through long, deliberate stretching. It helps her relax and sleep better. If only she could get a massage, like the dancers used to give each other after practice...

Jester: He may idle for a bit, pluck at his lute, but he will quickly become bored. His solution is to go pester his companions. Asking Boudica to spin him real fast or substituting every occurence of the word "Light" in Junia's hymnal with "vagina".

Bounty Hunter: If he wants some peace and quiet, he'll review his notes, if not, he's always up for games of chance.

Paracelsus: Thankfully she brought some books with her, because the reading material in the Hamlet is abysmal, at least in the beginning. She also has the habit of keeping little projects and experiments on the side, just for the fun of it. Don't ask what is growing in the jar.

Occultist: Alhazred can only truly relax when he sits down to meditate, sending his mind far away from the Black Beast, through the infinite spaces among the stars.

Leper: My man misses some culture, good music, good books, good theatre. The offer in the Hamlet is meager, so he often has to settle for the Church choir (Sarmenti is offended by that thing's mere existence) and the puppet theatre.

Arbalest: If you work with emergency medicine you know how precious downtime is. Interrupt her powernaps and she will shoot you. Taking care of her arbalest is a top priority too, of course. If there's time, a game of dice can't hurt.

Man-at-Arms: There's always a point when trainees are good enough to do drills on their own with minimal correction. Barristan likes to kick back and watch, feeling confident that he did right by them.

Crusader: Cleaning his armor, polishing his sword, sewing shut the holes in his gambeson. Praying and reading his verses. But while there's a ritual quality to his downtime, Reynauld really craves letting lose like his less stuck-up friends.

Highwayman: Sadly, he finds himself drinking heavily, more often than not. Truth is, he has a hard time getting out of the full-alert frame of mind without chemicals shutting down his brain.

Grave Robber: Also drinks a lot, but also enjoys chatting as a way to forget the horrors. It's hard to notice because of Audrey's legendary poker face, but her mental filter gets gradually worse the more she needs to unwind.

Antiquarian: Taking a day off to reorganize her inventory. It doesn't seem like fun, but she feels pleased checking the good acquisitions she made. It's like taking a few hours to pat herself on the back.

Hellion: Sure, Boudica likes to drink, but for her the accompanying merriment is extremely important. Good company, happy songs, great stories are essential for a warrior's day off. Some brawling may apply.

Flagellant: Having no chill is close to holiness. The Abbot has forbidden him from flagellating during mass so maybe that counts?

Houndmaster: Quality time with Fergus and friends, much like Boudica, if less racuous. If the fields are just somewhat fallow, a walk under open skies may be in order.

#darkest dungeon #asks #anon #dd ensemble #dd lists

[stevengrant-my-beloved]

(booty so big) lord have mercy [18+]

Steven Grant x f!Reader x Marc Spector

Rating: Explicit

(gif is my own, idk this was the best one i could find that shows off the goods, like look at the curve jfc)

summary: steven and marc have a great ass and you’re obsessed with it. y’all have a bunch of fun, sexy times. that’s it (this fic is post ep 6 but i did take some creative liberties)

warnings: just detailed descriptions of various sexual scenarios, but also, it’s wholesome? fingering (both vaginal and anal), oral (f receiving, maybe also m idk if it counts), sex (vaginal and anal), pegging (obviously), body worship (that’s like the main one), semi public sex, unprotected sex

word count: 3.7k

_______

“Mornin’ babe…” you mumble into the sheets, arm reaching out to drape over the body lying next to you.

You’re greeted with a rough American accent, grumbling about it being too early to wake up, before you’re pulled close and two thick arms wrap around you, effectively crushing you against Marc’s chest.

You wiggle around in his hold just enough to free your arms and bring them to his back, rubbing at the tense muscles there. Marc relaxes a bit, moving to rest his head in the nook of your shoulder. You continue kneading the muscles on his back, his shoulders, slowly moving lower until your fingers are pressing into his lower back.

You trace idle patterns on the skin there, ever so slightly dipping your fingers into the waistband of his black boxers before-

“Fucking hell [Y/N]-“ Marc groans, scraping his teeth against your shoulder as you grab his ass under his boxers, squeezing his cheeks and humming at how round and full they feel in your hands.

What a lovely start to the morning.

---

Steven drops a pinch of fish food into the fish tank, talking to the little goldfish (Gus 2.0 and their new addition, Goldie) and occasionally Marc. It seemed like he had more control of the body today, and he’d decided to go about sorting through his books and cleaning up the place a little.

You were working on one of your projects, putting together some documents, looking up every once in a while, to watch Steven go about his day, mumbling under his breath as he marked sections in different books. It brought a smile to your face, seeing them happy, seeing Steven and Marc at ease now that they were free from being Khonshu’s avatar.

Steven moved around the apartment, crossing over to the kitchen to grab a snack and as he made his way back to his desk, your hand shot out and smacked his ass, the resounding clap drowning out Steven’s cute little gasp.

“W-what was that for?” he exclaimed, turning to face you with wide eyes. His cheeks were flaming red and he squirmed as your hand groped his ass cheek before you moved it up to grab his hip and pull him close to you. You looked up from your laptop screen with a mischievous smile, chuckling as Steven rolled his eyes. You tilt you head up a little more, puckering your lips in a silent request, and Steven smiles as he leans down and pecks you softly. You try to deepen the kiss but he pulls aways and fixes you with a look.

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“Ugh, yeah, but it’s boring!” you groan. “I’d much rather be doing you,” you say, waggling your eyebrows.

Steven blinks, before erupting into laughter. He’s leaning against you now, and his voice quiets down a little. He mumbles under his breath and you hold him as you watch his head droop a little. A few seconds pass before his head shoots back up and you’re now faced with Marc, who’s staring at you with a raised eyebrow.

“That was so fucking bad [Y/N].”

“Yeah well, it’s the truth,” you say, before you both laugh, holding each other’s hands and squeezing them slightly.

You really love working at home.

---

“Oh, hiya love!” Steven greets you as you walk into your apartment, waving excitedly from his spot on the bed, where he’d been reading.

“Hey…” you groan out, feeling the energy seep out of your bones the second you cross the threshold and drop your bag onto the couch.

It had been quite a tiring day at work, what with a new client dropping a project out of nowhere, leaving your department scrambling to make up for the loss. You’d already spent a sizeable amount of the assigned budget for this new project and to have them come out of nowhere and say they didn’t want to continue the project anymore was frustrating as hell.

Steven peered at you with concerned eyes as you slowly peeled off your coat and stripped down to your underwear before walking into the shower, shoulders slumped and head hanging low.

“She looks tired…”

Yeah, we gotta do something.

The two make their way into the bathroom, which was filled with steam. You were in the shower, hands braced against the wall as you let the hot water from the showerhead fall over you, the heat soothing your aching muscles a bit. At the sound of the bathroom door closing shut, you look up to see Steven undress, before squeezing himself into the shower and standing behind you, his hands settling on your hips to steady himself.

“Hi sweetheart…” he sighs, kissing the back of your neck and lightly massaging your hips. “Bad day at work?”

You scoff. “Yeah, just an all-round mess.” You turn around to face Steven before dropping your head down against his chest. The hot water rained down over the both of you, and you felt Steven move a little to grab the body wash, before lathering it up in his hands and scrubbing your back.

While his hands worked on cleaning you up, yours slowly crept down his back and over his ass, your fingers digging into the round cheeks. You lifted your head up and onto his shoulder, looking down at your own hands as they squeezed.

You could hear Steven panting, his warm breath washing over the skin of your shoulder. One of your fingers dips into the space between his ass cheeks, sliding over his puckered rim, which clenched slightly.

“Can I fuck you?” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. “In here? Don’t wanna move to-“

“Gods yes, please-“ Steven groans, moving to kiss you, while you blindly reach over to grab the lube that Marc had decided to stash in the bathroom when he’d gotten a little too impatient that one time.

Neither of you was in any mood to draw this out. You were tired from your long day at work and Steven and Marc had already had their own little fun time when you’d been at work, so neither of you was going to last long.

You had Steven leaning against the shower wall, his back pressed against the wet tile and one of his feet resting against the little ledge on the side as you fingered him. One of his hands was moving furiously over his cock, while the other was situated between your legs. His fingers rubbed at your clit, the water and lube making everything so slippery but feel oh-so-good.

You curled the fingers inside him, trying to find that spot inside him that made him sing, and it didn’t take long until your fingers were pressing right over that bundle of nerves, over and over, meanwhile, Steven’s fingers continued laving attention on your pussy, switching between rubbing circles around your clit and dipping into you, feeling how wet you were.

You were vaguely aware of just how depraved it all sounded, your moans echoing in the shower, the slick sounds of your fingers in Steven, his fingers inside you, his hand moving over his cock, the occasional sound of skin slapping together, all made louder due to the water that dripped down on them.

It didn’t take long for Steven to spill onto his own hand, cum dribbling down, some of it getting washed down the drain. You weren’t that far behind, tensing as you felt your orgasm wash over you. You come around Steven’s fingers, clenching rhythmically around them, and even after you come down from your high, his fingers continue to move inside you, feeling the wetness, before bringing his fingers up to his mouth and licking them clean.

You moan, slipping your fingers out of him and kneeling in front of him, licking at the remnants of his spend that dripped down his cock and his thighs, before reaching back to squeeze his ass again.

“Your ass just made my day less sucky.”

Steven shook his head and laughed, before helping you back up on your feet. He spent the next few minutes cleaning the two of you up, relaying messages to and from Marc, while you vented about your day.

Eventually, you moved to the bed, where you snuggled close to Marc, who’d fronted at some point between your walk to the bedroom. He wrapped himself around you, letting his weight press you down against the bed just the way you liked it, and pretty soon, you were fast asleep, one arm spread out beside you, while the other stayed wrapped around Marc as your hand stayed on his ass.

You really loved that ass.

---

“Oh fuck, Marc, please- oh my god-“

You craned your neck down to see Marc resurface from his spot between your legs, his lips and chin glistening. He smirked as one of his hands reached up to intertwine your fingers together, before dropping his head back down to lick at you core, his tongue moving all over you.

Your free hand moved towards his head, your fingers grabbing his curls in what must have been a painful grip, as Marc ate you out. The sounds that filled the air were absolutely obscene as he swirled his tongue around your clit before sucking your pussy lips into his mouth, making your back arch off the desk that he’d pushed you on top of earlier.

You were in one of the empty conference rooms in your office. It was after work hours, so the only people in the building were the night guards and a few people that worked for the other companies that shared the building. When you’d told Marc that you had to stay back at work to finish up some stuff, and that everyone else had left, he’d wasted no time in showing up under the pretense of accompanying you back home so you wouldn’t have to be alone so late at night.

That had been an hour ago. He’d watched you work for a bit, sorting through some files and what not, and when you’d announced that you were done and ready to leave, he’d stalked over to you with that smirk of his and pulled you into the closest conference room, before pushing you down onto the table and pulling off your slacks and your panties along with them.

“Marc…” you whimper, the grip you have on his hair tightening as he smiles against your core. You want to tell him you want him, that you need him to fuck you, but it’s getting harder to form words in your mouth and all you can do is moan and squeeze your thighs around his head.

After what seemed like hours but could only have been a few minutes, Marc stands back up on his feet, his hands dragging up over your legs and thighs, squeezing them lightly as he moves to stand between your hips. You can see the clear outline of his hard cock straining against his jeans, and before you can focus on anything else, he’s unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants down just enough to free that giant cock.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Marc looked like a mess, his hair standing up from the way you’d grabbed it earlier, and his face was flushed red and wet from the nose down. He looked so fucking sexy it made you want to scream. He grabbed the back of your thighs and pulled you closer to the edge of the table, before licking his fingers and rubbing your pussy, making sure you were still wet enough to take him.

You hooked your legs around his hips as he slowly pushed into you, his cock stretching you out and filling you up, making you quiver and moan out loud. Marc licked his lips, before grabbing your hips and thrusting deep into you, smiling with satisfaction as he watched you grip the edge of the table.

Everything was a blur after that. Marc set a punishing pace as he fucked you hard and deep, making you clench around his cock. At some point he’d pushed your shirt and bra up to expose your breasts, and he’d taken the time to leave hickies all over them, biting and sucking at the skin harshly before soothing it with gentle licks.

You mouthed at his neck, biting at the thick vein as he continued fucking into you, when you felt his head drop against your shoulder. His hips continued thrusting back and forth, stuttering every now and then when you clenched around him.

“Bloody hell, I can’t believe we’re doing this at your work, this is insane,” Steven whispered right against your ear, before standing up straight, pulling you up with him. Your hands instantly moved into his pants and grabbed his ass, urging him to thrust deeper into you, licking up his neck and sucking on the spot behind his ear that you know will get him to move faster.

“Steven, fuck- oh, right there, baby, please- where’s- where’s Marc?”

“I’m here, we’re here-“

“We’re both here.”

They sounded drowsy and you feel their hips falter against yours, slowing down and speeding up at random. Steven and Marc were both trying to chase down their orgasm, and you were holding on for dear life, your nails digging into the skin of his ass cheeks. You were so fucking close, but it still wasn’t enough, so you keep grinding your hips against theirs until-

“I’m cumming- oh my fucking god- fuck-“ you scream, feet digging into Steven and Marc’s lower back, holding them in place as you gush around their cock. You slumped against the body holding you close, arms wrapped tight around you as the cock inside you pulsed, and suddenly you were being filled with thick, hot cum.

“Fuck that was good…” Marc whispered as his hips stuttered, and you both feel the cum inside you leaking out from where you’re still joined.

You stay like that for a bit, foreheads pressed together as you come down from the high of your shared orgasm. A quick look to the left has you gasping because good lord, it was so late and you still had work tomorrow.

“Okay we need to leave-“

“Not without cleaning up!” Steven exclaimed, pointing at the mess on the table and down on the tiled floor.

You make quick work of cleaning yourselves (and the office, which you make sure to lock up) before quietly leaving, your hand in Steven’s back pocket, and his arm slung around your shoulder as you walk out the front door, avoiding the gaze of the nightguards.

“We…we actually shagged in your office-“ Steven whispered excitedly. “That was-“

“Fucking awesome, I know,” you say with a toothy smile as you pat his ass. “Next time, bring a condom so we can avoid the mess.”

“Oh hell yeah,” Marc whispered, leaning over to kiss you, biting your lip lightly, like a promise.

“Next time?” Steven looked scandalized, like he hadn’t just had semi-public sex a few minutes ago.

“You know what? Maybe next time we should hit the museum. Steven, you know any good spots in there where we could fuck?”

You giggle as Marc and Steven bicker back and forth, Steven appalled at the possibility of being caught and being fired again and Marc having fun teasing their shy, adorable boyfriend.

These boys were going to be the death of you.

---

You loved the weekends. Two whole days where you and your boyfriends got to just kick back and relax, catch up on some TV shows, lounge around in your underwear, and just enjoy each other’s’ company.

You find every opportunity you can to smack that delicious round ass of theirs, watching it jiggle, delighting in the way Steven gasps and blushes, or the way Marc leans in to the touch, grunting softly before pulling you towards him and kissing you.

Sometimes you’ll sidle up behind them and grind your hips against their ass, and Marc or Steven will whisper ever so softly if you could fuck them, and you pretty much live for those moments.

So here you are now, kneeling on the bed facing Steven, who’s laying face down on the bed with his ass high in the air while you finger him open, watching the way his hole stretches around your fingers. You’re already strapped up, the harness digging ever-so-slightly into your hips and the big, veiny dildo hanging from the front, which you grind against Steven, watching his skin erupt in goosebumps.

You continue fingering him, listening to him groan against the sheets as he fists them. From time-to-time, you hear Marc’s moans mixed in there too, telling you to hurry up and just put it in already.

You opt to ignore his urges, because the dildo is a little big and even though they’d used it before, you don’t want to risk hurting them, so you take your time stretching them out.

“[Y/N], please…” Steven whispered so sweetly, turning his head slightly to look at you with those pleading eyes and who were you to deny him anything?

Your pull your fingers out of his hole, before quickly applying a generous amount of lube over the dildo. You lean closer towards Steven, rubbing the lubed-up dildo against his hole, watching it clench around nothing.

“Hey babe? I wanna try something…” you hum, pushing the head of the dildo into his hole slowly and watching it stretch around the formidable girth.

“What- fuck, what did you have in mind?”

“Wanna see if you can come with just this. You think you can do that?”

“[Y/N]…” Steven groaned, feeling the head of the dildo push into him fully, waiting for the rest of it to fill his insides.

You lick your lips, feeling the temperature around you rise a little. “You didn’t answer the question baby.”

“I’ll try, please- please just fuck me.”

“Alright darling, I got you.”

You slowly thrust into him, watching the rest of the dildo disappear into him, and you both groan as you bottom out, your hips pressed flush against his ass.

“Remember, you can’t touch your cock yeah? Want to make you cum just using your ass.”

“Good lord [Y/N], please-“

And without much warning, you pull almost all the way back before thrusting back into him. Your thrusts are pretty hard and deep and you relish in the way Steven’s ass jiggles when your hips smack against him at every thrust.

You really, really, love that ass.

Seemingly on autopilot, you bring a palm up to your mouth, licking it, before raising it up over Steven’s ass, and smacking it down onto his right ass cheek, hard, watching the skin redden.

You still for a moment, keeping an eye out for Steven’s reaction, but it turns out you don’t have much to worry about because he moans really loud, his back dipping even lower down onto the bed.

“Oh gods, do that again, please-“

“Fuck, you like that baby?” you ask, fucking him with shallow thrusts as you grope his ass. You watch him nod against the sheets, and so you decide to give him what he wants.

With every few thrusts of your strap-on pressed into him, you’d raise you arm and smack him on his ass, alternating between hitting his right and left ass cheek. You switch from deep, hard thrusts to fast, shallow ones, hoping to find his prostate, and when you did, Steven cried out, thrusting his hips back against you and sobbing as he urged you to go faster.

You could tell he was close, and a quick look down at the sheets between his legs confirmed it. His cock had leaked profusely down onto the sheets, leaving a giant stain of precum. And all without touching his cock.

“You close?” you mumbled, biting your lip as you tried to keep up a consistent pace, but watching Steven fall apart, all because of you had you feeling light-headed.

Marc was the one who answered. “Yeah- fuck, we are, keep going, please- [Y/N], please-“

His words were a little slurred, and you hear Steven chiming in, adding his own set of pleas, so you fuck into them, sweat dripping from your forehead at the exertion. It’s like you’ve got tunnel vision, the only thing that mattered in that moment was giving your boyfriends what they wanted, you wanted to make them feel good, you loved that you could make them come undone, and one a particularly hard thrust, you raise both your palms, licking them to make them wet and cool, before smacking their ass cheeks in succession, left, right, left, watching the skin flush red, and before you know it, they’re coming, groaning out profanities, still pushing back against the strap-on as they chase their orgasm.

You watch them with amusement, wiping the sweat from your forehead and pushing back the hair that had fallen over your eyes. Steven had slumped down onto the bed, wincing when he felt his precum smear against his stomach. The dildo had slipped out from him, making a squelching noise from all the lube.

You straddle the back of his legs and spread his ass cheeks, watching his gaping hole try and clench around the air, and because you were a little tease, you dipped two fingers in, thrusting in and out slowly just to watch him squirm from the overstimulation.

And just for good measure, you smack his ass again, before bending down to press a few quick kisses to the red skin, feeling the warmth, and you snicker as a weak moan reaches your ear.

“I get it, you love my arse,” Steven grumbles, drowsiness evident in his voice.

“Hell yeah I do.”

_______

i tried to be a little more accurate with the DID representation, consulted videos from systems online to best portray co-consciousness and switching, but please let me know if there's anything that feels wrong in my writing. i want to be as respectful about this as possible, but know that if i did something inaccurately it was not my intention. i am open to constructive criticism and i hope you enjoyed the fic :]

#m writes #moon knight fic #marc spector x steven grant #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector fic #steven grant fic #marc spector smut #steven grant smut

[colderdrafts]

10: The Real Fight

The Great Assembly, gender neutral reader x monster (male naga). Sfw. Tw violence/mutilation. Previous Next

Lunchtime at the company is always a hectic experience. 12.30, the clock says, and, as if on cue, Irwin's head pops up at the side of your cubicle.

"You need to eat," he says. "Let's go!"

Though, some days Irwin doesn't want the cafeteria food, and drags you by the wrist outside to get something from a street vendor. Today was one of those days.

"You know Barney will skin us alive if we don't make it back on time, right?" you ask him.

Irwin struts next to you seemingly without a care in the world, the bag containing your lunch - two sandwiches - swinging idly by his side. He interlocks his free arm with yours playfully.

"You can go ahead and turn of your worry wartedness for a moment,” he chuckles. “We'll be back before boss man even notices we're gone."

"That's what you said the last time."

"And this time I'm right!"

Irwin pulls you down to the park in the middle of the city. The trees gently sway in the late summer breeze, and the big lake in the middle of the park sparkles in the sun. You sit on the grass close to it, staring out over the water, eating in companionable silence for a bit.

"So, how are things?" Irwin asks. "You grown accustomed to office life yet? Finished the whole apartment project?"

You nod and swallow your mouthful. "Yep. Can't believe it's already been almost half a year."

"I'm glad you stuck around! It was so boring before you got here. Literally none of our coworkers would do things like this with me," Irwin gestures vaguely around and pouts. "Everyone else thinks I'm annoying."

"I mean, it's not like you're giving me much choice," you grin.

"Not the point!" he waves it off, leans in and boops your nose. "And I know you actually like things like this, don't deny it!"

It is true. Irwin has an almost uncanny ability to figure out things you might find fun or pleasant and provide them. Maybe it's his way of showing he cares. In return, you manage to help him keep structured a little bit more, and keep him company.

Mons and hums walk through the park, and the pleasant sounds of idle chatter fills the air, though not enough to feel crowded. It's a pleasant summer's day, and people aim to utilize it.

Irwin wraps up the paper of his finished sandwich. He plops backwards, and sprawls out on the grass like a starfish, tilting his face up against the sun.

"This is the best," he sighs contentedly.

You watch him fondly for a moment. Over this past half year Irwin has quickly inserted himself as a stability in your life - someone you can rely on. Since you landed the job at the company, packed up and moved away from the past, you've truly needed that sort of presence. Leaving behind everything you know is not for the faint hearted, and new beginnings are as terrifying as they are exciting.

"Well? Get down here!" Irwin grunts impatiently, reaching for you with his eyes closed.

You chuckle at his neediness and lie down against his side, resting your head on his chest. He wraps an arm around you, and you relax into him.

"You alright?" he asks after a beat. You know what he's referring to.

"Yeah," you say.

He squeezes you reassuringly, and you enjoy listening to his heart beating for a bit.

Suddenly Irwin’s phone starts ringing, upbeat tune rudely disturbing the peace. Irwin huffs in annoyance.

"I'm on break!" he whines, but pulls it out with his free hand. He sighs. "Dad, I'll call you later," he mumbles, swiping to dismiss the call.

"Is that a new sticker?" you ask, noticing indeed his sticker-covered case has a new contender - this time, a small frog.

"Yep! He's my buddy," Irwin says, and buts his chin against the top of your head. "Just like you."

You snort at the cheesy remark. "Adorable."

"Anything for the Nr. 1 office friend!"

You settle again, but it's not long until his phone goes off yet another time and Irwin groans, exasperated. He doesn't bother swiping the call off, and the cheery ring-tone filters through he air. You laugh, as you've done so many other times with him.

Irwin has single-handedly made sure your transition into this new beginning was just a little less scary and a lot less lonely. And you'll forever be grateful to him for that.

Mira has stiffened at the sound of Irwin’s phone ringing, and very, very slowly turns her head to you. Her eyes gleam in the dark.

The dull voice in your phone politely telling you you're on voicemail echoes through your mind as you take a step back.

“Now, now – let’s calm down,” Mira says, slowly standing up.

“Why- why do you have Irwin’s phone?” you demand, pointing your flashlight at her like it’s a weapon.

Mira smiles gently with her palms outstretched, as if trying to pacify you.

“I found it! I didn’t want to worry you more, so I didn’t mention it.. I’m sorry,” she says, gingerly stepping closer.

You grit your teeth.

What department is she from?

It bugs me I don’t remember seeing her name on the list.

The cleaning staff isn’t attending this conference.

Could it be possible you forgot her name?

“Stay the hell away from me,” you try to sound firm and curse internally when your voice quivers.

Your hands are shaking.

Mira sighs, and her demeanor changes. Her usually soft and open body language shifts like she’s taking off an emotional coat, and she becomes stoic. She regards you like an impatient parent would a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“Easy now. Irwin’s fine, and you’ll be too,” she says sugary sweet, and steps closer. “Just come here, we can sort this out.”

“Get back!” you yell, swinging the flashlight in her direction.

She looks at you, unimpressed. “We both know you’re at a significant disadvantage here, tiny,” she grins wolfishly, and you shiver. “It’s dark, you’re alone, and all you’ve got is a flashlight. If you just come quietly with me, everything will be just fine. We’ll take great care of you.”

You take a step back, keeping her at a distance. “’We’? Who’s we?”

“We,” she smiles, “are missing someone who’s just like you. And we,” she steps a bit closer, “will be happy to take you in with open arms.”

“You’re a trafficker,” you realize out loud, barely a whisper.

Mira shakes her head, calmly thwarting your attempts at keeping the distance by following after you.

“Aw, that’s such a harsh word. I just bring families together, and I know a very nice family that wants a hum just like you. You should count yourself lucky. Not everyone gets a chance like this!”

“What did you do with Irwin?!”

“Nothing! Nothing, he’s perfectly safe. I’ll take you to him, just please calm down-”

She tries to close the distance between you, and you take several steps back, swinging the flashlight in her direction again.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” you yell. “Stay the fuck away from me!”

Mira sighs. “I was hoping we could settle this quietly, but alas.”

She doesn't even give you a millisecond before she dives for you, and you spin on your heels and start sprinting.

You dash through the woods, no concern for your direction, as you hear the pounding steps of Mira giving chase.

“You can’t run forever!” she laughs. “I’ll get you eventually anyway, so why not just stop now and spare the time?”

Adrenaline is pumping through your blood, urging you on as you don’t feel how tired you are, and the forest wooshes past you in a blur. Your lungs are burning as you run, and when you suddenly feel a hot breath on the back of your neck you yelp, and feel your feet being swept from underneath you. You crash to the floor, skittering to a halt, groaning in pain as you accidentally put weight on your injured arm.

Mira pants heavily, and crouches in front of you on the ground.

“Phew, gotta hand it to ya. You’re quick!” she watches with a smile as you stumble to your feet and take a few steps back.

She stands up.

“Now, I’ve got all night for a game of tag. You, however, look like you’re getting tired,” her face contorts in concern, but you can see through it now. Her face holds a certain viciousness that she doesn't bother to hide anymore.

You glance around in a panic, looking for something, anything, to help you.

“So, what’s it gonna be? You wanna go for round two, or do you wanna come along?” Mira asks patiently, just watching you. “You know I am more than capable keeping you safe. Nothing bad will happen, I promise!”

You turn your flashlight from side to side, until your eyes catch something very briefly shining golden in the dark.

You try not to let your eyes widen to tip Mira off, as you flash the light back. You find the golden reflection again, and you could almost cry. You’d recognize that annoyingly pretty color anywhere. You’ve spent the past couple of days being scowled at by it.

Amren is currently hiding in the brushes a ways behind Mira, tense and his face contorted in that vicious rage you saw him display earlier. He soundlessly, slowly, lifts his hand and waves to you to him in a beckoning motion, glaring holes into Mira’s back.

“Well?” Mira says again.

“Fuck you,” you spit, and fake left. When she lunges to grab you, you spin right, narrowly dodging out of her grip, but not before she manages to get a claw raking over you cheek as you rush past her.

You ignore the pain and storm toward Amren, dashing past him with Mira close behind.

You hear Mira let out a startled yip followed by a ferocious hiss as Amren’s ambush worked, and he forcefully barrels into her with a smack that sends her flying through the dark. There's a dull thud as Mira lands a ways away, and she scrambles back to her feet.

Amren rushes to your side, coiling the edge of his tail around your legs and rising himself up in a terrifying threat posture that would send the devil running. He almost knocks you off balance in the hurry, and you have to steady yourself with your palms against his lower back.

Mira stops and stares at him. There’s a brief flash of reluctance in her face, but she quickly resolves it in a determined growl.

“My my, so now you decide to show up,” she mocks, shaking her head in disapproval. “And where were you when your little hum friend here almost got eaten just before, hmm? Honestly, you just don’t give a rat’s ass about anyone, do you?”

Amren's tail slightly tightens around your legs.

Mira bares her teeth, testing her weight side to side. It’s like she trying to figure out what side to go to better get at you.

Amren matches her movements as she does, blocking her path to you, just ferociously hissing at her. No words. Poised high and ready to strike in an instant, you can’t see his face from where you’re standing, but the way Mira’s hackles are raised tells you more than enough.

Mira regards him for an odd second. "So that's how it is," she mumbles. Her gaze lands on you, and she smiles warmly. “This’ll only be a second, promise. Stay right there.”

Mira plops down on her haunches and then, like a loaded springtrap, launches herself at Amren with her fangs bared and claws at the ready.

Amren quickly pushes you out of the way with his tail, and lunges forward as well, colliding with her.

Mira’s jaw locks around Amren’s arm and he grunts, rising on his tail, lifting her in the air, before leaning forward and barreling toward the ground to crush her. Mira lets go last second, and rolls out of the way as Amren’s fists collides where her head was just a millisecond earlier. The ground shakes with the force of the impact.

Amren snarls, and slithers to one side as Mira lunges again, raking her claws over his tail. He swipes the floor with it, using the powerful swing to send Mira flying once again. She crashes into a tree and gasps, momentarily laying still on the ground. Amren doesn’t let up and goes for her once again, arms outstretched and jaws open wide.

You spot Mira’s eyes snap open as he does so, and her muscles tense in anticipation.

“Wait-!” you call, but too late.

Mira deftly rolls out of the way and Amren only barely manages to turn before stumbling into the tree. Mira uses his stagger to get behind him, and hops onto his back, locking her arm around his throat and her legs around his torso.

Amren gags loudly as Mira starts strangling him.

He rakes his claws over her arms, gaping for breath, tossing and turning in an effort to pry her off. He crashes his back against the tree to squash Mira like a bug, and though she grunts in pain, she stubbornly keeps her hold on his throat.

“Die, you meddling prick,” she seethes, tightening her grip.

Amren curls around himself as he’s strangled, an awful gagging sound filling the air. He tries to get his tail around Mira, but she uses her heels to deliver a powerful blow to his stomach, and he keels over in pain.

You’ve been watching from the sides, frozen in place, and a terrifying thought dawns on you on this crude display of power.

Amren is losing.

If you don’t do something, he will.

Gripping the flashlight, you sprint toward the pair struggling on the ground.

Mira doesn't see you coming, as she’s currently busy with strangling Amren, and you first manage to knock her over the head with your flashlight. As she grunts and turns to look back, you snake the light around her throat and, ignoring the searing pain in your injured arm, put your arms on both sides of it and pull.

Now Mira starts gagging as you pull her backwards, pretty much copying exactly what she was doing to Amren, forcing her to loosen her grip in an effort to shake you off.

“BREATHE!” you roar at Amren, wrapping your legs around Mira’s middle as she pries loose of him to get rid of you.

He coughs and spits, heaving in big gulps of air.

Mira snarls and, using Amren’s back for footing, kicks off of him, sending you flying backwards and landing hard on your back with Mira’s full weight on top of you.

She knocks the wind out of you, and your grip around her loosens.

She quickly breaks free of your arms and turns on her knees and palms, pinning you to the ground.

“Bad hum,” she snarls in your face, and you watch in shock as her jaws open, presumably to bite it off.

A pair of clawed hands grabs both her ears and roughly forces her head down into the ground next to you before she does so, giving you time to roll away from underneath her.

Apparently your little stunt gave Amren the opening he needed.

Mira whines in pain, but the sound is cut short as Amren, with well-practiced and deadly precision, so fast his body becomes a blur of movement, starts coiling his tail around her body, locking her in place.

Mira’s eyes widen in terror as she realizes what’s happening, and she desperately start struggling against him, whining and snarling. It's futile, however, as Amren lets out a ferocious hiss and rests his palms on the ground to keep balanced while his lower body works to firmly trap her.

Mira’s eyes locks on you, and she pathetically whines, begging for your help.

Then Amren starts constricting her.

You watch, stunned, as Mira’s face contracts in pain, her mouth agape desperate for air, her arms and legs locked in awkward positions sticking out between Amren’s coils.

You stifle a cry in surprise when you suddenly hear a loud crack, and Mira’s eyes widen and tears sting her eyes from the pain, but she doesn’t scream – she can’t make a sound.

Crack.

Soon enough her eyes start to bulge and drool falls from her maw as Amren is slowly crushing her, bone for bone, his eyes hard and darkened, his face contorted in that terrifying raging grimace with all of his teeth bared.

Mira tries to pierce her claws trough the tough skin of Amren’s tail in a last desperate attempt to pry him off, and he responds with another gnarly hiss, oblivious to the pain, and you hear another crack.

You watch as Mira’s life is slowly crushed out of her body, and the sight is too much. You can’t bear it.

“Stop,” you whisper, staring into Mira’s bulging eyes.

Amren doesn’t hear you. His face portrays nothing but malice.

Crack.

“Stop,” you say a bit louder, and when he doesn’t listen you grab his face to get his attention.

Crack.

“Stop! AMREN, STOP!”

You scream it into his face and his head snaps up at your voice. His eyes somewhat soften as he looks at you puzzled. He looks down at Mira, like he’s not sure what he was doing, but then stares back up at you.

He takes in your terrified expression, tears falling yet again, your face bloodied and your shaking hands on his cheeks.

“Stop,” you whimper again.

Something changes in Amren’s face as suddenly he looks scared, and he immediately loosens his grip. Mira starts coughing and heaving for air, and lets out a hoarse pitiful whine.

Amren takes in a shuddering breath. “Tiny, I-hrk!”

He’s cut off and grunts in pain when Mira’s teeth are suddenly buried in one of his coils, and before he can regain his grip, she has wriggled out of it.

Mira, panicked, kicks off and away from Amren, landing clumsily on her back. She quickly rolls over on all four, and scrambles toward the brush with her tail between her legs. She clutches her middle protectively and vanishes in between the trees. In a matter of seconds, she's gone.

You breathe hard, staring after her.

You then look to Amren, who’s still just staring at you.

“I- I didn’t-” he trails off, lacking the words. His voice is hoarse after Mira’s onslaught on his throat. “I didn’t mean to-”

You open and close your mouth. “Mira’s a trafficker,” you whisper.

Amren stares at you and nods.

“She tried to kidnap me and kill you.”

He nods again. He scans your face and slowly raises his hand, reaching for it. His eyes widen as you recoil per reflex, and he quickly pulls back.

“I – I don’t – this isn’t me,” he stutters, searching your expression, looking for any reprieve, any understanding.

You stare at him, not knowing who this person is. He had looked like he was ready to really crush her, a single bone at a time, slowly and painfully, prolonging her demise almost sadistically.

You feel like you’ve seen something, something dark, buried and hidden. Amren’s terrifying ability, the nature of what he is, brandished in front of you, and now he’s desperately searching for any indication that you will push him away, run from what he can do.

“I- I know,” you say, eventually.

“I’m not- she tried to kill me -”

“I know.”

“She tried to kidnap you – I just -”

“I know,” you repeat.

He shudders, and lets out a shaky breath.

The forest is eerily quiet as you both sit and take in what just happened. Amren stares into the ground for a good while, breathing to calm himself down, and you sit next to him, your hand on his arm. His presence is grounding. Eventually, you feel his hand, cold as ice, covering yours.

“Is.. is she gone-?” you whisper, staring blindly out in the dark.

Amren glances at you, then flicks his tongue, swiveling his head around.

“Yes,” he rasps at length. “She’s gone.”

“You’re bleeding,” you note.

“Yes,” he says. “So are you.”

“We should get back to our backpacks – bandages-”

You get up, holding on to Amren’s arm, and as he notices you don’t let go he settles for slithering forward a bit lower on his tail than usually. He stops momentarily, however, and looks back.

“What’s that?” he says, lifting the tip of his tail.

You turn your flashlight over, and notice Irwin’s phone is lying in the dirt. Mira must have dropped it when she ran off.

You gingerly pick it up, staring at the obnoxious sticker covered case, a cute frog in the corner a little peeled off. A ping of grief travels through you.

You venture back in silence, once again relying on Amren’s sense of smell to get you back. You’re about ready to collapse when you spot your tent, undisturbed, in the dark.

You get to work on patching each other up, Amren hisses weakly when you rub the disinfectant over his wounds. It takes a while folding bandages along his long tail, but he does his best to uncoil it to give you easier access. Pain-wise, you don’t fare better when he holds your chin with one hand and uses the other to gently dab at the wound on your cheek.

“Quit fuzzing,” he mutters as you squirm.

“Like you were any better,” you retort.

Silence hangs for a while, then Amren opens and closes his mouth to say something. You patiently wait for him to find his words.

“Tiny-” Amren stops himself and huffs through his nose, and then actually says your name instead. It sounds foreign, coming from him. “I’m sorry.”

The words have certain weight to them, and you get the sense he's not only referring to what just transpired. He busies himself with cutting a small piece off a bandage and carefully securing it to your cheek.

“Let’s – let’s have a proper talk about what we do after some sleep,” he offers.

You nod. “I’m sorry, too.”

Finishing patching each other up, you return to your tent and bundle up, curling into a fetal position. It’s been one of the most terrifying nights of your life, and you can’t stop seeing the horrific image of Mira’s open jaws coming for your face, how she was contorted, slowly being crushed alive, the sound of Amren’s hissing, the metallic stench of blood and red eyes glowing in the dark-

You shiver, heart pounding as your brain keeps recalling the events, and wince as you arm aches.

You turn on the side, and close your eyes hoping for sleep to come silence your spiraling mind. You were almost kidnapped. This is the type of thing that only happens on the news – the type of thing you hear about, think 'that's terrible' and then go on about your business. But it happened. And here you are, lying in a tent not too far away from where you were attacked.

The tent seems cramped all of a sudden, with the wind howling through the thick plastic. You thank the stars for your trusty sleeping bag, given the very cold air you feel on your face, and how the fluff somewhat keeps you grounded.

If it hadn't been for Amren..

You sigh through your nose, recalling the horrid conversation before you stormed off. He had been right to try and stop you, though you still feel a small pit of justified rage in your stomach. Suggesting your friend is dead meat anyway so he doesn’t matter didn’t sit right with you at all, and neither did the way he grabbed you.

Though tonight's events and his solemn apology has calmed it quite a bit.

Is what you've seen tonight the reason he's acting the way he is? Consistently pushing everyone away with a venomous attitude doesn't really speak of blossoming friendship. But the way he looked at you, searching for some sort of forgiveness – it had looked so strange, and just adds to your confusion.

You hear him moving around in his own tent again, though tonight you notice his breathing comes haggard and fast, like he's just been exercising. Well, he did just fight of a madwoman coyote and sustained significant damage in the process. You feel over the bandage hiding the gnarly bite marks on your arm and wince. If you're in pain from only this, you can't imagine what Amren's feeling.

"Are you alright?" you call out.

A few seconds pass, and you suspect he's going to ignore you. Then his still strained voice cuts through the darkness.

"Yes," there's a pause where he just breathes hard, deftly proving he's lying, before he follows up with "are you?"

"Concerned for me? Now I know for a fact you aren't alright,” you jest half-heartedly. It’s reassuring to do something familiar.

There's an actual snort coming from him, though whether from humor or indignation you aren't sure. Maybe it's both. "Go to sleep, Tiny."

The anxiety hangs heavy in your chest, and you’re not sure you could follow that request no matter how much you want to. And his obvious haggard breathing is more than cause for concern. He will not in a million years tell you what's bothering him, besides the pain of course, on his own volition. So you sit up, unzip your sleeping bag and scoot to the front of your tent, almost thankful for the excuse to not be alone with your thoughts.

"What are you doing?" Amren asks.

"You won't tell me what's wrong so I'll just have to see for myself," you grumble, fumbling with the zipper to the opening of your tent.

"Just stay in your tent and go to sleep, we both need to rest," Amren protests.

"No can't do buckeroo. If you die I'll get fired for sure," you half-joke, and suppress a shiver as you head into the cold night air, and pull the sleeping bag a bit closer.

He groans exasperated. "I'm not going to die, so just-"

You open the zipper to his tent, and stare inside. He's completely coiled in on himself in the far corner. Even in the dark, you can see his entire body is trembling. The bandages on his tail have bled a bit through, though not exactly enough to cause concern.

"You look like shit," you say.

“Likewise, Tiny,” he retorts, eyeing the covered wounds on your arm and face. "Now you've seen the big bad snake in a sorry state, you happy? Go back to sleep."

He shakes his head and turns his face away from you, going deeper into his coiled tail. He's still shivering, and it dawns on you it's not just because of the cuts or loss of blood as you previously suspected.

"You're cold," you realize out loud. All this time - "Of course you are, you're cold blooded, aren't you? And you didn't bring a sleeping bag?!"

He huffs. "Never needed one. It'll take a lot more than a little chill to kill me," he speaks somewhat with the annoying self-assurance you're used to, but his voice comes out sort of sluggish. You faintly remember a crash course on grade school biology that reptiles become lethargic when they get too cold. You guess recovering from a vicious fight doesn't help matters.

"So the mornings I found you spread out in the sun, the weird moving around at night - Amren why the hell didn't you say something? I'm warm blooded, I can regulate my temperature just fine! You could have had my sleeping bag!" you scold him, scooting a bit closer.

"And what would you do, then? Would you please just look after yourself for a change?" he promptly shifts around so his back is turned to you. "Get out and go back to sleep.”

You frown at how his defensively adverse attitude has returned full force, and wonder briefly if this is a habit brought on by something else. You stare at his shivering back. His bitterness tries to hide it, but his body betrays him – you actually get the sense he might get seriously sick or worse if he keeps this up, especially when injured.

"Get bent, grumpy," you say, and close the zipper behind you.

He huffs in response, apparently thinking he's convinced you to leave, but he promptly turns to face you when you start scooting closer inside the tent.

He opens his mouth to tell you off, but before he says anything you spread open your arms, using the sleeping bag as pseudo wings, before carefully plopping down on top of his upper body, effectively covering him.

He lets out an undignified snarl in protest. "Tiny, what the hell are you-" he cuts himself off, and you feel his whole body go rigid. “Oh.”

“Better?” you grumble, settling the sleeping bag over both of you, leaning on his torso and your legs dangling over his coiled tail.

"Oh," he says again, and you feel his arms slowly snake up over your back, sending chills down your spine.

His icy hands hits some exposed skin under your shirt and you gasp.

“Nature's balls, you’re fucking freezing,” you complain, squirming as his arms follow and he pulls you into the coldest hug you’ve ever had in your life.

“You’re so warm – how the – how are you this warm?” Amren demands, as if he’s personally offended it’s a secret you’ve deliberately kept from him.

You feel his grip becoming somewhat tighter, and you think for a second that maybe you should have kept it that way.

You yelp when suddenly he forcefully pulls you close, wrapping his body around you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, you laying flush against his torso, and him shifting around to get as much of his tail benefiting from your body heat as possible. Within seconds, he’s got you in a vice grip, shivering and seeking out your warmth like a moth to a flame.

You faintly remember from tonight’s events what he’s capable of when coiled around something, and feel you may have made a mistake.

“Ho-kay, that, that’s a little tight-” you grunt, straining uncomfortably against him.

He mumbles unintelligibly against your neck, and you feel his hand run up your back and settle at the back of your head. He shifts one again, loosening his grip ever so slightly, and you breathe a bit easier.

“Squirm around and get comfortable,” he grumbles.

You shift slightly against him, getting yourself into a less awkward position. He moves with you, and once you go still, you feel his body relaxing, and a more comforting weight settles all around you. Amren breathes deeply, and you feel his shivering slightly halting. Guess he’ll live.

Should you say something? Just an hour ago you couldn’t wait to get as far away from him as possible, yet here you are, closer than you thought was even possible with him.

"Is this alright.?" you ask after a beat.

"Hush," he says.

Tonight's event’s still haunt you, but something about this closeness soothes your racing thoughts. Laying here, with the reassuring sound of Amren’s now steady breathing and his body against yours, the gentle pressure of his coils all around you is, despite everything, making your body relax. You’re guarded from all sides and no vicious snapping jaws can reach you here.

You’re lulled into a deep sleep in Amren’s arms, and you have never felt this safe in your life.

#colderwriting #monster romance #gender neutral reader #x reader #monster lover #naga #monster x reader #hhh this was a long one #congratulations on officially getting under his skin

[newtthetranswriter]

"Umbrellas are for pussies."

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu x American Reader

Word count: 1418

Summary: A day out with Yuta leads to playful bickering about umbrellas.

Warnings: The use of the word pussies once making fun of people.

A/N: Just a random idea I had while watching the rain today. Reader is from the state of Oregon because that’s where I’m from originally and I personally think umbrellas are for wimps, and transplants(People not from Oregon originally). I’m also thinking of making this like a mini cross fandom series about different characters in the rain. Also requests are still open and I’m working on the one I have. It just may take a bit as my new job is finally giving me hours, and Vegas (where I live right now) Is facing some heavy rain this week with possible flooding and power outages. 

    It was a relaxing day at Jujutsu tech, which was rare but welcome. Taking advantage of the few off days we received as sorcerers, me and Yuta decided it would be nice to go out and just have fun in Tokyo together. It would be our first date in a while with the number of missions Yuta gets being a Special grade sorcerer, and we just wanted to go shopping and get lunch without the worries of curses and Panda teasing us. Don’t get me wrong I love hanging out with our friends but it can be a bit much having the bear cracking jokes at our expense every five seconds.

    We decided that we would meet each other at the entrance to the school and leave from there together. It was a few minutes past when we agreed to leave when I watched Yuta run towards me out of breath. I just chuckled at the ravenet as he approached. “What took so long and why are you running?” I asked as he took a moment to catch his breath.

     “Oh, I was looking for an umbrella, It looks like it might rain so I figured it’s better to come prepared. I lost track of time searching and when I realized I was late, I rushed out so you wouldn’t think I forgot our date.” He said standing back up and smiling at me. It was then that I noticed the cause of his tardiness in his hand.

     I rolled my eyes at him. “It probably won’t rain, especially if it’s in the forecast.” I said this from experience. “Also using an umbrella is for pussies.” I joked as we made our way from the school.

     You see I’m from the U.S.A, more specifically Oregon. I learned growing up that when they say it’s going to rain it probably won’t, and if they predict a sunny day expect a thunderstorm. I also grew up with the mentality that umbrellas were pointless, if it’s gonna rain oh well a little water won’t hurt. I came to Japan because opportunities for Jujutsu sorcerers are limited as they don’t cause too much problem there, so I went where I could learn about the strange things only I could see. That is how we get to where we are now.

      My boyfriend looked at me like I was crazy for a second before just brushing off my comment, favoring enjoying our day out rather than bickering about rain. He grabbed my hand as we started our walk towards the bustling city enjoying the cool weather. We talked about little things that didn’t really matter, things like Inumaki ‘accidentally’ cursing Panda to stay silent for a whole day, or how Gojo spends way too much money on candy. It was just light hearted talk, forgetting that we work such a dangerous job that could take everything away at any second. It always felt great to just be people.

     After a half hour walk we were finally in Tokyo. We decided that the best course of action was to get a quick breakfast before heading to a mall for the day. Yuta and I agreed on a little bakery that had coffee as well and sat down to enjoy it. Again just idle chatter about some dumb meme I had seen or a stupid video Yuta saw. We finished breakfast and headed to the mall.

     When we got to the mall we immediately went to Hot Topic, and got some MCR shirts, a few buttons, and a few Funko pops. I also got a new set of gauges for my ears before we headed to the next store. Yuta decided that we had to go into Box Lunch and nearly begged to get a squishmellow that looked like a piece of Onigiri for our friend with limited vocabulary. He also got a marvel mug and I picked out some My Hero Academia ramen bowls.

      This went on for a few hours just us going from store to store buying random things, for ourselves, or the occasional thing that made us think of one of our friends. Around noon we decided to grab lunch in the food court before heading home because we already both had a few bags we had to carry back. Luckily one of the things I bought was a backpack that looked like Finn’s bag from Adventure Time and was able to put quite a bit of our stuff in it, shrinking the number of bags needed to carry everything. We both still had like three bags of stuff to carry but it wasn’t too bad.

     Leaving the mall, I realized Yuta had been right about it raining. It wasn’t raining too bad, I’d say only sprinkling, nothing to worry too much about. I didn’t even pause before stepping out into the rain and walking away from the mall, I only stopped when I realized Yuta wasn’t next to me. I turned to see my boyfriend struggling with the bags he was carrying, trying to set them down for a moment while also trying not to drop the umbrella he had in his hand. Walking up I grabbed the bags from him before asking. “What are you doing? It’s not that bad, you don’t need that.” I pointed at the umbrella he was opening.

      “Just because you were raised like an animal, doesn’t mean I have to get soaked in the rain.” Yuta responded by taking the bags back from my hand, after positioning the umbrella over his head. “Also I never said you had to use it. If you want to catch a cold in this weather, have fun but don’t come crying to me.”

      I just rolled my eyes, returning my attention back to making the trek back to Jujutsu tech. “I won’t catch a cold, I’m just saying you look dumb with it.” I could hear him scoff as he caught up with me.

      The walk back towards the school was fine until the rain went from a sprinkle to a downpour and Yuta made us step under the cover of a bus stop for a moment to make sure none of our stuff was getting wet. After making sure anything that could be damaged by the rain was covered and out of harm's way I moved back into the rain. “What are you doing? It's raining too hard for you to just be walking around in a t-shirt and no umbrella.” The voice of my worry wort said.

      I just kept walking listening to the sound of him rushing to catch up with me. “I said before that I'm fine. I’ve walked further in worse rain.” I said as he was walking next to me. It was silent for a moment before he moved so the umbrella was covering the both of us. “I said I don’t use umbrellas. People who do are weird, it’s just water, it can't hurt me.” I responded as I stepped away from the offending object.

      The special grade just rolled his eyes at me. “Look I know that you don’t want to use the umbrella but please. For me just this once. I don’t want you getting sick. ANd I know you said you won’t catch a cold, but I don’t like the idea of you risking it. Plus soaking wet clothes are not fun.” He said, trying to move closer to get me under the umbrella. “Plus I can see you shivering, no matter how used to the rain you are, admit that you’re just a little cold.

      My shoulders slumped, he was right about me shivering and wet clothes sucking. “Fine, but this is the only time I will do this. And if you tell anyone I will inform everyone that you unironically listen to Taylor swift.” I responded, making up something random to make him agree, finally letting him close enough to shield me from the rain.

      He froze for a moment before responding. “I do not listen to Taylor Swift, but fine I won’t tell anyone that you walked under an umbrella.” He paused before continuing, “You Americans are weird about really dumb things.” I just nodded in agreement and kept walking.

      Today was great, even though I went against my people by using an umbrella, I had fun. It’s always nice to just talk and spend time with the one you love. I can’t wait for the next time we can do this together.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #jujutsu yuta #jujustsu kaisen x reader #yuta okkotsu #yutta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta #jjk yuta #jjk yuuta #yuuta x reader

[crossroadsserpent]

Beautiful Bloodshed

Otis Driftwood x Transmasc! Reader. (18+)

Chapter Two

(Chapter One below)

Same summary and warnings apply here. Please enjoy this absolute shit show of a book.

~~~~~~~~~~

(Chapter two starts two weeks after Chapter One, Baby and Y/N have been hanging out almost every day.)

Y/N's shitbox truck pulled up infront of the now somewhat familliar Firefly house, idling for a few seconds before finally turning off. Y/N got out and excitedly ran up to the door where Baby met them, equally as excited as they were.

"Y/N! I've got something really fun for us to do today!" Baby squealed excitedly, her blonde curls bouncing as she jumped around, looking like she drank several redbulls before coming down to greet them.

Y/N giggled at their friends giddiness. "Oh lord, what crazy plan do you have cooked up for today?" Baby's plans ranged anywhere from laying around her room and listening to music while they painted eachother's nails, to going out and luring unsuspecting men back to the house for Mama Firefly.

Baby grabbed his hand and pulled him inside the house like she always did, but this time she pulled much harder, dragging them to her bedroom, giggling and laughing the whole way. She stopped outside her door, turning to them with a crazed grin on her face.

"Okay, get ready, because this is going to be wicked cool!!" She put her hand on the door handle, turning it and counting to three before swinging the door open so hard it hit the wall with a loud 'BANG'. "Ta Da!!" She yelled as Y/N peered into the room. A brunette girl sat on a chair in the middle of the room, bound and gagged, looking terrified. "I thought you and I could turn her into a living doll today!" Baby giggled, pulling them into her room.

They spent about three hours dressing up the girl, doing her hair, and putting makeup on her. Baby seemed quite pleased with the work the two had done, looking over it with a proud smile.

"She looks great! But I'm hungry now, wanna go make lunch with me?" She asked as she walked out the door. Y/N nodded and followed her, walking out out into the hall, stopping, when they see that Otis's door is open. He could see some of the art Otis had drawn on the wall around the tv, mostly a bunch of small doodles around some bigger, more detailed drawings. He was really good at what he did, and they had to admit they really did love the art of his they were able to see. Baby noticed they weren't following her anymore and went looking for them, finding them standing in the hall infront of Otis's door, staring into the room in awe.

"Hey, whatcha lookin' at?" She asked curiously as she approached them. Y/N jumped and looked at her, trying to think up an excuse but coming up with nothing.

"O-Oh! Uh, nothing! Just got lost in my head..." they lied, but Baby wasn't fooled. "Yeah, sure, whatcha lookin' in Otis's room for?" She asked, playfully nudging them, attempting to relax them a bit. Y/N let out a defeated sigh. "Okay, okay... no matter how many times I see the art on the walls in his room, it's always so... amazin', I've actually been meaning to ask you about it." They clear their throat. "You know anything about any of his art?"

Baby crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "why don't you just ask him, man? I'm sure he'll tell ya if you ask." The thought of talking to Otis made them nervous, not because they were scared of him, no, it's because they didn't want to bother him while he was busy (and they probably wouldn't understand the philosophical answers Otis has been known to give, and has given them many times in the past when they asked a question.) "N-No, it's fine! I'll ask some other time." He shook his head quickly, attempting to walk past Baby, but she caught him and guided him into Otis's room. "Otis! You got a sec?" She called out. Otis looked up from his book, about to say something rude or snarky in response, but stopped himself when he realized Y/N was there. "Depends, what for?" He asked, setting his book down on the bed beside him. Baby grins, gently pushing Y/N toward Otis. "They wanna know about your art, can you tell him about it?"

Hearing this actually shocked Otis. Y/N wanted to know about his art? Well shit, he'll tell them anything they wanna know!

He clumsily got off his bed, excited to finally spend more time with Y/N.

Otis mentally cussed himself out, he wasn't supposed to feel that way toward ANYONE, let alone someone of the same gender... but he couldn't help himself. The few times they hung out together (mostly drinking and talking shit about people) he'd feel his heart flutter when they laughed at one of his stupid jokes, and he'd get the feeling of butterflies in his stomach every time they looked at him with those damn doe-ish eyes or gave him even just a slight smile. Jesus, he felt like a teenage girl getting her first highschool crush and he hated it.

Baby left the room, happily leaving the two alone. Otis wasted no time in beginning to explain each piece to Y/N, getting less and less philosophical when he realized they didn't quite understand it as well as he did himself. Actually, he began to ever so slightly touch on the emotional side of it, allowing himself this one instance of vulnerability. Y/N listened intently, finding each piece and the meaning behind it extremely interesting. Otis found himself smiling as he answered Y/N's questions, feeling those same feelings he felt when he first saw them.

Shit, it's just gunna get worse....

Since Y/N was so interested in his art Otis decided to test just how far he could go before his art grossed them out or scared them. He first asked if they wanted to see some of his other art, and after they said yes (maybe a bit too excited) he pulled a few of the smaller bone sculptures from behind the curtain that hid the more grotesque pieces he'd done. He showed them one of the sculptures, one that was made to look like a bouquet of flowers, it was morbidly beautiful. Y/N let out a soft gasp, their jaw dropping in absolute awe.

"Holy shit, it's gorgeous! How the fuck...." the words left their mouth quicker than they could stop it, gushing over the tiny bone flowers.

Y/N's reaction made Otis's smile bigger. Someone loved his art, truely loved it, saw the beauty and emotion behind each piece....

There was no escaping it, Otis's feelings for Y/N were already too strong.

~~~~~~~~~~

End of Chapter 2.

Hope everyone enjoyed this shit! Chapter 3 coming soon. :)

#house of 1000 corpses #otis driftwood x reader #otis b driftwood #x reader #otis driftwood #otis b driftwood x reader #bill moseley #beautiful bloodshed #trans male reader #horror

[mosinterlude]

━━ BRUTAL ✦ complete joke

suggested tracks: brutal - olivia rodrigo. teen idle - marina. are you satisfied? - marina

As soon as Y/N turned on the Vlive, it was flooded with viewers. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Behind the setup sitting in front of her, out of camera’s view, sat Apollo, Kio, Fae, and their managers, Yoo Sooha and Jeon Joshua. While Sooha scolded at her, her frown causing wrinkles to crease her skin, Joshua gave her a thumbs up with a reassuring smile. Inhaling deeply, she smiles, waving cutely at the camera.

“Hi guys! Wow, there’s so many of you already. I hope you're all doing well.” She glances behind the camera to see Kio holding up his phone with a message; Deny Deny Deny. “I know why you’re all here, and I have other things planned for this live, but I should address some things first.”

To be honest, Y/N didn’t actually know if she liked Hanni. She had meant to tweet it on her private account on a whim, just to see what it felt like saying. She didn’t even know her that well, as an idol or person. She was stunning, sure, but she didn’t even know her. She met her briefly and Hanni didn’t even say hi to her. What was worse was that her album would be coming out later that night, meaning promotions would start not long after. What was so bad about this is that with NEWJEAN’S very recent debut, they would be sharing the idol stage for more than a few days.

“As you know, there was a tweet released on the official account concerning romantic feelings for someone from another group, a girl group.” She glances up at Sooha, who’s scold is prominent as ever. It reminds her of the face Jihyo from twice made once when they had gone to eat together. “I wanted to come here and say now that that tweet was a complete joke.” Fae makes a confused face, and Joshua follows, furrowing his eyebrows. Kio on the other hand gives her the thumbs up, urging her to continue.

“Uh yeah. It was a little joke between the Sian members. It was originally going to be about Han Jisung, from Stray Kids,” (‘Please understand and forgive me Han.’) “But then Kio said I should make it about Hanni instead. You see, the four of us kinda wanted to stir up a bit of trouble on Twitter, so we decided to make a little tweet about having feelings for someone.” Kio looks at her, offended, as if he d

“See as how this kinda threw both Visis and Newjeans fans into a frenzy, I wanted to come on here and clarify that little thing. Nobody in Elysian is in a relationship whatsoever, currently or before. It was meant to be a funny harmless little joke, and I'm sorry about worrying you guys.” Finally, the deep frown on Sooha’s face disappears, and all that’s left is a blank emotionless expression; Sooha was rather, well, unreadable. She was quiet and deadpan and kind of boring. She often clashed with Joshua, who was loud and hyper and exciting.

The pair often reminded Y/N of Akaashi and Bokuto from Haikyuu!, although the two rarely worked well together. Joshua was insistent on the four members to go out and be kids, do fun things without cameras following them. Sooha felt it was better for them to always wear their idols' personas, focusing on their choreography or their school, insistent that they do well and finish so they could focus on their careers. While Apollo somehow adored her, both Kio and Y/N had a differing opinion.

Sooha stood up, grabbing her stuff and heading for the door. Joshua grabbed his things, smiling and pushing a container of sushi he had brought for Y/N closer to them, smiling sheepishly, as if he was apologizing for Sooha, before running after her. She visibly relaxed once the both of them left, before looking at the camera, smiling. The comments were filled with words of support, love and excitement about the album. She grinned.

“Anyways, I came on here to talk a bit about my album, just writing it and what it's about.”

✿ * 𓈀 synopsis :: God, being a teenager is brutal. Of course, it's even more torture when you're in the spotlight; every move you make is documented and recorded to be used or held against you at a later date. And while most of the time it's justified, for seventeen year old idol Y/N L/N, it's a pain in the ass. especially when she ends up tweeting on the wrong account about her dumb little crush on newly debuted idol Hanni Phạm. And of course it comes right around the time that theyre ready to drop her solo debut album, aligning with NEWJEANS's debut. God, it's brutal out here.

prev. masterlist. next.

ꗃ : ˖ ۫ ◖ 𓂃 mo's interlude :: AYYY WE BACK😍 bro i love this fic so much im never gonna let it go i just needed a bit of a break thats all

ꗃ : ˖ ۫ ◖ 𓂃 taglists: brutal taglist. @coffeewon @myinzu @starzzns @sarcasmhadachild @luv4vernon @luvhyun3 @strwberrydinosaur @nomniki perm taglist. @jangwonie @bigtoewinwin

#mo's interlude 🎧 #brutal!! 🍬 #brutal :: behind the scenes 🎞 #brutal :: love letters 💌 #newjeans #newjeans fics #newjeans layouts #newjeans hanni #newjeans smau #hanni pham x reader #hanni x reader #hanni packs #hanni #hanni pham #hanni layouts #hanni icons #hanni moodboard #danielle newjeans #kim minji #haerin

[thefaithbroken]

ok but CAN WE TALK ABOUT how even at the tiefling party homeboy just can't bring himself to relax and enjoy himself?? Like he's just thinking of everyone he's lost and vows to not lose anymore even in this moment of joy and celebration PLEASE someone dance with him or hug him or give him a hug just... He's a huggable sad man. shout out @infernaliscor // @extraordinarygrrls

THIS. SO MUCH THIS. Just chill at the party some time and wait for the random lines he says. He absolutely breaks my heart. "I should be out there, talking with them. In… just a moment, maybe." "No. Let them have fun. I'll be ruining it come morning anyway." There's another idle dialogue that I can't find the video for so I don't have the exact, but he basically says, "Is this all that's left… ? We've lost so many…" And I don't have the recording either for when you first talk to him and he thanks you, but the second time, he's a bit lighter [ when someone is actively engaging him and he has to keep up appearances ], tries to look out for the player character and is also even a bit playful. "Go on, do your rounds. But if they hand you something purple, don't drink it — I think they got into Ethel's potions." Yet, despite the teasing, he still basically tells you, Don't waste your time with me. Go enjoy your evening. And then he stands by himself the rest of the night, nursing his drink, watching everyone else have a great time while he reflects on the fact that they're so few in number now, contemplating the rest of the journey that begins tomorrow, and thinking that if he tries to enjoy tonight, he'll just ruin it.

[ As an aside, I absolutely headcanon in my drow paladin Thraeya's playthough — @morethandarkness — she convinced Zevlor to dance with her and then sat with him and talked the whole night until he called it to be ready to travel in the morning. She got a little hearteyes at him from their first conversation where he says, "You'll find the druids at the heart of the grove. Please — make them see sense. Oh, and if it's of any concern… you're brave to walk around without hiding your heritage. I'll make sure everyone knows that you helped us at the gate."

She wasn't even close to my furthest along character when I found out what happens with Zevlor, she literally got me hyper-focused on getting her through to where she could rescue him. She turned down Gale, Wyll, Astarion, and Halsin. Because she had entirely decided that she was romancing Zevlor, whether possible or not in game, and she had to make sure he was safe. ]

But, as usual, I digress. I have said it several times already, but Zevlor absolutely deserves the world. I wish that Larian would at least let us bring him to the camp, the same way we can with Barcus, Aylin and Isobel, and others.

#|| it is not your paladin oath that is broken; it is your faith itself || { about // zevlor } #|| there is no agony like being strong when no one knows you're sick || { mentality // zevlor }

[zehecatl]

2024 media thread part JANUARY :D

1st January: Super Mario Bros. Movie

finally got around to watching this, and okay, yeah- it was a lot better than i expected. a good time! really fun to watch! it definitely felt like actual fans worked on it, or at the very least, that Nintendo kept a real close eye during production. loooved the little nods to canon; when Pauline showed up, i literally paused to excitedly tell my mom about who that was, haha. also LOVED the difference uses of power ups!! tanuki suit AND cat suit my beloved :]

Bowser was definitely the high point, like!! that IS my little guy!! Jack Black did SUCH a good job, and man. the ANIMATION. the bits where he got all snarly was SO good. would have loved to watch those on the big screen. Luigi was also very Luigi, which i always appreciate. Mario was... eh? not bad! Chris Pine did an okay job, and while i would have preferred something more, it was... fine. and Donkey Kong was a whole lot of fun, actually? tempted to check out his games, because i did really like him

meanwhile, my BIG BIG complaint, is Peach. like, holy fuck. they absolutely butchered my girl! like, yes- as characters, none of them have a lot of personality to work with, but they're archetypes. you're supposed to push within the archetypes- they even did this with Mario. but they just- they completely abandoned who Peach is, as a character. straight up just wrote Daisy instead, which is. really frustrating! and i dislike it A LOT, because there is so much you can do with Peach as a character, and they didn't even try

but otherwise- fun movie! could have been so much worse!

4th January: Outpath

really relaxing and chill game, where you basically just run around collecting resources, upgrading stuff, and unlocking more island. definitely one of those 'put on some music and zone out for a bit' games. that is not a negative

really liked the graphics, and it was fun to just- run around? you get more movement upgrades as you go along, and it actually plays really nicely. also some tasty environmental sounds

i'm not a 100% done with it yet, but i hit the end credits, so. not sure i'll get all the achievements, but i do intent to go back and clean up some loose ends. also really like how it incorporates some idle elements, like you still getting credits(/money) while being offline. makes it more rewarding to open it up and vibe for a bit

i do think there was an.. attempt? at some kind of story, but i entirely missed it, so i guess that's my only real critic. it was just a fun chill game to sink like, 25 hours into lol

9th January: Momodora: Reverie Under The Moonlight

i've had this game in my library for literally who knows how long, and it's one i've always been aware of, since it was really big back in the day, and oh my god. oh my god, why did i not play this sooner?

it's rather short, took me around 7 hours, but it just- it nails what it wants to be, this tough little game with so much moodiness and tragedy, and i'm so enamoured. i tried playing the original one before this, but it wasn't quite hitting, but man. this one just. it hit so fucking good

there's so many layers here, so many unspoken little details. so so much tragedy you could really dig your fingers into, and as a Tragedy Enjoyer, ooooh it hits good

i'm considering either replaying it myself, or watching a LP and then writing some fic, because there is a little thing hiding here, something i want to put words to. it's good, can't wait to check out the rest, and the upcoming sequel/finale. also, the game is gorgeous

18th January: Switch OVA

so Switch is a two episode long 'adaptation' of a manga, and while it very much just drops you into the middle of the plot, it- works? like, i personally wasn't missing anything, and the case they chose to adapt works really well as a teaser for the manga, because i did leave it considering checking out the manga, and while the whole thing isn't anything to write home about, i did enjoy myself

(i also watched the whole thing on my phone, curled up in bed, so that did maybe increase my enjoyment. it was cozy! what can i say!)

funnily enough, i did walk into this thinking it was a yaoi, and while i don't think it is, there really was nothing to disprove me of this assumption. there's literally a moment where protag guy gets told 'he likes' the other protag guy, and he bLUSHES. LIKE. STRAIGHT OUT OF A YAOI FR FR

all in all, it was honestly just a really cozy time. it wasn't long enough to lose my interest, and there was enough in it to keep it- and i really like the design of the red haired guy! very simple, but really appealing too. i genuinely might check out the manga, my interest is definitely piqued

#media thread #just realised it's feb so DROPS THIS

[skeletonsfortea]

At the Bar

Y'all I did something naughty and ended up writing a whole scene instead of working on VBPS...

So, for all my Currant fans, here's something fun...

Song: Devil Knows by Armen Paul

POV: you meet Currant at a bar.

Fluffy Currant! Hope you enjoy ;)

The bar is getting crowded as the night becomes late. It’s hot and stuffy, so you’re preparing to leave- until you spot something that peaks your interest. There’s a skeleton sitting at the bar, alone. He’s got a glass of alcohol in one hand. You start towards him on autopilot. He has on long black pants, a red crop top, and a thick black jacket with fluff around the hood that hangs off his shoulders, spilling into the crooks of his elbows. Sitting down beside him, you smile.

“Hey, what are you drinking tonight?” You ask. He looks up at you with a bit of surprise, but he doesn’t look nervous. He’s used to this kind of scene then. One of his eye sockets is empty, but the other has a red iris that seems to grow and shrink minutely. Only now do you also notice the hole in his skull. He’s seen some shit. He looks you up and down, and only then does his frown split into a smile. You nearly lose your breath at the sight. Somehow, he just seems five times warmer.

“Whiskey. Why, you gonna match me?” Amusement glimmers in his eye, and you shrug, turning briefly away to gesture for the bartender.

“Maybe,” you say, looking back at him. It’s hard to keep your eyes off of him, and you think he knows that. He leans heavily on the counter, turning towards you. There’s no posturing or uncertainty in his demeanor.

“So, what’s someone as cute as you doing in a place like this?” He’s trying to figure out your intentions, but also making sure not to scare you off by being too forward. So he’s got some finesse.

“I don’t know, guess I’m just looking for a fun way to fill the time.” You say honestly, and then tip your head at him, “you wouldn’t happen to know a good option?”

“Depends,” he says, grin stretching wider, “what kind of night are you in for?”

“Something casual,” you answer, “I’m a bit tired.” He hums, nodding a little. He looks contemplative, and you suspect he’s questioning whether or not he’d like to make idle chatter. He must decide it seems interesting enough, because he turns back to you with the same warm smile.

“Well, I’ve had a busy day too. We can keep it to drinks.” He says, and all of the tension dissolves. You hadn’t noticed it before. Was he worried you would ask for action? When he turns to take a sip from his cup, you get the feeling that isn’t the case. He doesn’t move like someone who’s nervous about that kind of thing. But what else could it be..? He glances at you, “you gonna drink that, or keep staring all night?”

You flush slightly, turning to your own drink. “I wouldn’t mind doing that,” you say, taking a sip. His smile turns slightly softer, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“A real flirt, aren’t you?”

“That would imply I do it to everyone,” you say, setting down your drink again. “It’s not that often I get an interest in a stranger.”

He takes a sip of his drink, “I could say the same.” You notice his eye slightly drift in the direction of the door when a group of people enter. He scans them for a fleeting moment before turning back to you. Anxiety? 

“Hey,” you say, catching his attention, “what do you say we make this a game?”

He tips his head, “I thought you said you were tired.”

You shrug slightly, “no harm in getting a little drunk. I had dinner before this. So, are you up for it?”

“Fuck it.” He says, and gestures for the bartender.

A couple hours later, you’re properly buzzed, and while he doesn’t seem to be, it does seem like he’s more relaxed than before.

“How do you know a girl tastes good?” He asks.

You snicker. “How?”

“You liquor.”

It takes your alcohol addled brain a second to get it, but then you burst out laughing. “Oh man, where do you come up with these?”

His eye expands a little further. “What can I say? I can’t keep ‘em bottled up.”

“Pshh, stop,” you say, shoving him a little.

“Don’t wine, you know you love them,” he says with a smug look. Maybe it’s just your intoxication, but he seems five times more good looking with an expression like that.

“Suree,” you say, and briefly glance down at your watch. “Aww, shit, I gotta go home.”

“Really? It’s barely ten,” he says.

“Yeahh, I got work tomorrow,” you say, “but hey, it was nice, ey?”

He softens, “yeah. You’re pretty great, sweetheart.”

Your face heats up, “heyy, don’t get sappy on me now. All those flirtatious jokes and you’re gonna trip me up on the goodbye?”

He grins wider, “yep.”

You slide out of your chair, “well, we should meet again!” You pull out your phone and a notepad you keep in your backpocket wherever you go to the bar. His brow rises at the sight, and you messily scribble down your number before handing the whole pad to him. “Call me, alright? No need to be skel-alone, ok?”

He chuckles, “okay.”

…

Sans watches you leave with a slightly aching soul. Huh. How weird. He looks down at the notepad in his hand. The numbers are a bit too messy to read.

He hopes he sees you again, one day.

#penny for your thoughts? #fluffy currant is like smooth jazz #if only Currant was like this all of the time #no beta read #about the hlf brothers #sorry y'all I needed fluff today apparently

[chibipsycho-v3]

Okay, here’s some fun stuff completely unrequested! I got to thinking about the Uberbots a lot today (thanks to some specific folks *ahem* ¬  ,¬ ) and I made some general/dating headcanons for each of them~ It’s not much, but these are my interpretations of them and what they’re like with you. Enjoy!

Uberbots x Reader Dating Headcanons

The Photographer

The Photographer is an Uberbot that tends to enjoy peace and quiet, preferring to quietly tinker with his photos and darkroom. Though any time you come around, it's a welcome change of pace. You're the only one other than the Uberbots that can disturb him without upsetting him.

Sometimes he has difficulty articulating a thought- he appreciates when you slow down or wait for him to figure out how to say something. He gets a little embarrassed when he trips up like that, so he greatly appreciates that you accept that part of him seamlessly.

Totally has photos of you- while some are candid and taken while you are just relaxing with him or doing some idle task, he knows that taking photos without your knowledge is rude. So he'll ask if he can take pictures of you, especially when you both venture into the forest.

His love languages are quality time and acts of service! You are one of the only persons the Photographer knows that he can just... sit with, sometimes in silence while both of you do your own things. He appreciates your presence all the time. And while he can't manage some of the tasks you need to do, he tries his best to help with the ones that he can. It's not uncommon to find that he's done some of the chores to take the pressure off of you.

The Archivist

The Archivist is a very studious 'bot that loves her work, but tends to get lost in all of the files that litter her space. Sometimes you have to remind her that life is not all work, which she appreciates. After all, she gets to spend time with you instead!

Music resonates with her for some reason, you can catch her humming something idly almost any time. Usually it's some classical piece, but occasionally she branches out... particularly if you show her something you think she might enjoy. Then you can hear her hum it for a few days afterward.

Definitely studies you when you're not looking. The way you move, the way you laugh, the way you react to stimuli... It's all research, she swears.

Her love languages are verbal affection and physical affection! There's no end to the pet names for you: dear, dearest, darling, sweetie- she's even called you 'lovebug' on occasion. And if you were fine with it, you bet she'd cuddle you while flustering you with sweet nicknames and praises. Uhn-uhn, there's no getting away from the Archivist's love; you'd better learn to accept compliments and little static smooches with grace!

Unfinished Boss/Blank Canvas

Blank Canvas (or just Blank) is a curious sort of 'bot. He's a bit like Stim in that he wants to see and experience new things, now that he's been given life. He's not quite good with words yet (he has to search for the right one sometimes) but he loves to talk with you about anything at all.

Show him your hobbies! He loves to hear you explain them, no matter how technical you get. Chances are that Blank will pick up on at least one of them and join you in it... and he's pretty good at it once he gets a handle on it.

Unsurprisingly, he actually enjoys art. Though he seems to favor abstract art more than traditional... Maybe it has something to do with his face resembling Picasso's later pieces.

His love languages are gift-giving and physical affection! He finds lots of little interesting things in his gem-land home and he saves them to give to you. He's fascinated with you in general. He's going to poke and prod you until he works his way up to holding your hand, petting your head and hugging you. Unless of course, you're not cool with that. In which case, he will keep himself from touching- but you may have to remind him a time or two. You're just so interesting to him!

G0lly

Oh gosh, G0lly is the cutest Uberbot, help. She gets excited a lot and tends to interject conversations with fun things that she's discovered- and maybe just now remembered she wanted to tell you. She is the embodiment of, 'I didn't mean to interrupt you, I just randomly remember things and get really excited.'

That's not to say that she's ditzy or vapid, though; she's actually very smart! I mean, she does have the entirety of the internet at her disposal. Whatever she or you want to find out, it's only a search away! That said, you'd better not make her search anything... untoward. The other Uberbots might throttle you for destroying her innocence.

She does have a sarcastic streak that shows itself from time to time, it's always a fun surprise when she quips something unexpected.

Her love languages are verbal affection and quality time! G0lly literally has a thesaurus in her head. She's going to call you every sugary-sweet nickname until she finds one that sticks, and you'd better believe that she's going to find every word to tell you what you mean to her, even if they're in different languages. Also there's nothing she loves more than to scour the internet for fun videos for the two of you to watch, cuddled up and giggling together.

#chibi wrote a thing #inscryption #inscryption archivist #inscryption photographer #inscryption unfinished boss #inscryption blank canvas #inscryption g0lly #inscryption x reader #photographer x reader #archivist x reader #blank canvas x reader #unfinished boss x reader #g0lly x reader #x reader #tag exPLOSION #Happy Uberbot love~ #You know who you are #I love them all~