#but featured his creature shop

[woundedluvz]

currently thinking about how our first hyperfixation might have been jim henson and his creations

[kajibunny]

Can I request Umemiya & Togame x reader where they have an aquarium date? I feel like it would be cute^_^ feel free to ignore, I hope you have a great day :D

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ aquarium date ˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚ w/ the wind breaker boys

✿ featuring: hajime umemiya, jo togame, ren kaji ✿ contains: established relationship, fluff, unverified facts on sea creatures ✿ a/n: what a lovely idea! ( ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) actually this has been requested quite some time ago rip!! tho aquarium dates are definitely cute and i feel like there'd be lots of funny moments! i hope you don't mind but i added kaji in too, cutie~ thank you for your patience!! ✿ wc: 1.1k

ʚɞ umemiya -

ꕤ the aquarium tickets were a heartfelt gift from a generous townsperson who thought that you and umemiya were the cutest couple. he always talked about you, and shared how he was so lucky to have someone so kind, caring, sweet, and beautiful. the complete package, really. as soon as he had a free day without any scheduled patrols or activities, umemiya eagerly invited you to join him on a date at the aquarium.

ꕤ umemiya got selected as a volunteer for the sea lion show, due to his sparkly-eyed enthusiasm. he was being so cute and silly as he blew flying kisses to you while helping perform tricks and interacting with the sea lion, then when asked if he was here with someone today and if he'd like to give a shoutout, he proudly points at you and proclaims "that's the love of my life right there!" the crowd around you couldn't help but gush at his romantic declaration.

ꕤ as you and umemiya walk into the serene, dimly lit fish aquarium, he notices how the soft blue illumination of the tanks cast an ethereal glow on your face, and umemiya couldn't resist stealing a kiss from you, catching you by surprise from his spontaneous smooch.

ꕤ under the shimmering light of the fish tanks, umemiya pulls you close, whispering to you: "today has been the most amazing day and i'm glad i got to spend it with you." his voice filled with sincerity, as you two walk out of the aquarium hand in hand. "also, did you know my love for you is deeper than the ocean, my sea anemone?" he adds, as you giggle at his chosen pet name.

ꕤ he surprises you with a coral keychain from the gift shop, because he says it reminds him of you. corals bring life to the ocean, and you know how umemiya loves his plants, which provides the oxygen that we breathe, so he says you are like a coral that breathes life into him. (how cute is that!)

ʚɞ togame -

ꕤ togame actually went and bought the aquarium tickets for both of you, because he remembered how much of a marine life advocate you were, to the point that you detested plastic straws because of their detrimental effects on the turtles. he thought it was cool how every ticket bought contributed to help save the sea turtles, and at the same time, you two could also get a fun date out of it.

ꕤ he actually stops and reads the facts about the sea creatures and he tells you about the ones that he finds interesting, but he ends up unintentionally getting real smooth with it and tries to woo you (even if you two are already together).

ꕤ "did you know sea otters hold hands or grab onto each other while sleeping so they won't drift apart? maybe we should try that next time too." togame says as he grasps your hand in his, demonstrating his recently learned fact.

ꕤ by the time you two got to his favorite part, the turtles (it's your favorite too, since it reminds you of him), he would look at the sea turtles with you with so much affection.

ꕤ you point at the mating turtles and giggle, tugging on togame's shishitoren jacket and telling him to look at it. he chuckles and says: "us when we get home later." half jokingly.

ꕤ you two also attended an environmental awareness talk hosted by the aquarium on sea turtles, as togame wraps an arm around you, but his attention seems to be immersed in the talk, while your eyes were fixated on him, feeling a sense of wonder not just for the turtles, but also for togame, who was nodding and listening intently, and it reminded you of how much of a good listener he is to you too.

ꕤ you and togame get matching turtle keychains from the gift shop as a souvenir of your aquarium date. the keychains were the magnetic type, so they click together whenever you two are near each other, accentuating the fact that you two are each other's other half and are very, very attracted to one another.

ʚɞ kaji -

ꕤ kaji (sort of) won the aquarium tickets at the tonpu shopping district raffle, and he was extremely baffled because he doesn't even recall signing up for anything, but it turns out that kusumi and enomoto frantically entered his name daily, as soon as they overheard you mentioning to kaji that you wanted to go to the aquarium with him someday.

ꕤ you excitedly pulled kaji to go watch the dolphin show together, oblivious to the faded "splash zone" sign on your seat, resulting to getting quite a bit drenched despite his attempts to shield you with his arm. kaji blushed furiously and tried his best to look away when he realized he could see a glimpse of your undergarments through your top.

ꕤ he quickly pulled his hoodie over his head and handed it to you, telling you to put it on. with kaji only in a shirt in the chilly aquarium, you insisted he wait outside while you ventured into the gift shop. you returned a minute later to gift him a hoodie that you bought, adorned with cute baby dolphins and the words "i love dolphins" on it, proudly gifting it to him.

ꕤ he said "no way in hell am i wearing that." but he couldn't resist the sad look in your eyes as you pleaded with him: "please? for me, ren?" and that was all it took. for some reason, kaji just can't say no to you. you held too much power over him. he huffed and muttered a "fine", grumbling while reluctantly putting on the dolphin hoodie.

ꕤ you tried to take a picture of him wearing it, but he grabbed your hand and held it to drag you off to the other sea creature exhibits.

ꕤ upon reaching the shark tanks, you playfully nudge kaji to get his attention. "that looks like you whenever you're angry, ren!" you exclaim as you point at a shark gnawing at its food. "is this your way of telling me that you want me to bite you?" kaji looked at you like he was a predator and you were his prey. you blushed as he blamed you for starting it in the first place. kaji also blushed furiously as he realized the implications of what he just said.

ꕤ as you walk home together, kaji shoves a lollipop into your hands, but not just any lollipop - a shark shaped one, and says he just got it for you as thanks for the hoodie. but deep inside, you knew that kaji got it for you because he wanted you to think of him (and maybe of him biting you).

© kajibunny 2024 / all rights reserved

[donutz]

sebastian with a reader who gives him a ton of resources and asks if they can buy a kiss from him O-O

Buying a kiss from Sebastian

You aren't that delusional right?

— A big ol smooch. Mwah. Delicious fishy skin oh so yummy.

Warning: Shy reader, but not the stereotypical 'Y/N'; Stutters, I'm sorry I'll try to make it realistic; THIS IS NOT A BIG DADDY AND SHY Y/N TROPE.; Sorry I just wanted to warn you; I don't use Y/N anyways, I use Reader as if there's a difference😎; There's no kiss on the lips☹️; Buttt there's a teasing Sebastian; 'Bad' words; Non-human reader, they just have the ear fins; They have green-like skin with four yellow eyes! Two fakes ones underneath their original ones; They also can disguise as a human

After dying over and over again, you became acquainted with Sebastian. You saw him in the shop and even saw him when you were dead. You’re not sure on how the dying thing works but…

It doesn’t really matter as long as you get to see Sebastian.

You’ve gained feelings for him, even though he isn’t very.. Human. His little insults can be annoying but I guess it’s um. Reasonable? Yeah that’s something you don’t enjoy all that much.

But his voice and his tone is something that you like. You may have a strange taste but who doesn’t like a 10 ft tall man that has aquatic features?

… Probably every other normal person…

But some mermen can be attractive! You feel like a little kid crushing on cartoons.

Sebastian seems very closed off and distant from humans. Maybe because humans are the reason he’s this way?

That’s understandable.

I don’t think I would like humans at all if I looked like that either. It’s not like he’s ugly it’s just… It seems like he was human before being that way.

Anyways

Maybe since he doesn’t seem okay with other forms of affection— You could get him a gift! It’s unexpected, can be taken as platonic, and a way to get closer to somebody! Perfect!

Though what should you get him?

Hmm…

You don’t know any of his likes, favorites, nothing really.

Oh!

But he has a shop!

You could uhh. Give him some items for his shop!

And then…

Ask for a kiss!

… Is that too forward? Well he might like you back!

He might… Like you back..

He doesn’t really give many hints on his feelings towards love. Especially towards you, minus the lessened amounts of insults he throws at you.

Oh that could be a hint! He stutters sometimes too! But he did that before he truly knew you… 

Ugh, too many ellipses.

Oh sorry I didn’t mean to break the 4th wall.

Agh hem.

As the loop starts again, you decided that the gift could be items. Items to give so he can hold it for his shop. Then a smooch!

A smooch?

Yeah a kiss. Totally. He’ll definitely give you a kiss with those… Rubber… Lips…

Okay maybe a kiss on the hand can suffice.

Exiting the submarine you prepare to give Sebastian a ton of items in return for a kiss!

Are you really that delusional?

.

.

.

Yes!

You end up finding flash beacons, flashlights, medkits— Actually maybe you should keep that one.

Y’know, just incase a good pers—

… Mmm…

People?

Just in case good people pops up.

Hate that thing.

Oh wow a lantern.

When it comes to the monsters and just being in this place in general, it’s like your whole personality switches. 

When it comes to Sebastian you’ll be all shy. But when it comes to just Urbanshade, its creatures, and Hadal Blacksite… You’re more mad and irritated.

Sometimes you even say bad words at the creatures.

Oooo.

Saying bad words even though you’re a grown adult.

How, “NO YOU CAN’T SAY THAT”!!

Y’know? 

When people infantilize shy characters?

Y’know?

☹️

You get pretty close to door fifty, having many helpful sources to give to that— man…

You hear an expected voice..(Oh how spooky)

“Hey. Come here”.

You look at an invisible camera pulling off that— Roblox man face or something- I don’t– I don’t know.

Speed walking over there in excitement, you hold a smile on your face. Your beautiful smile lines showing.

Damn, you really like him huh?

You crawl through the vents waiting with anticipation. Possible praise? Or even a smile?

You can’t wait.

Reaching the end of the vent, you immediately look up, bumping your head. It’s a good thing you have that head gear. You might’ve gotten a traumatic brain injury and five dollars.

… What.

A- Anways, you rub your head looking down.

“Oh damn. Well based on that head bump I already know who it is. Hello my favorite prisoner”.

“Hey Sebastian, yeah you’re so funny. Making fun of my h- head bump. Die”.

“Hey buddy I was justt messing arounddd”.

“M-hm- Mhm.” You let out pained noises. Getting out from the vent, you stretch out your limbs. Hearing a few pops

“Eww… Yuck, I hate those sounds.” Sebastian commented.

“Yeah they’re kinda weird about humans”.

“They suree areee”…

After a few seconds of silence, Sebastian speaks up.

“Soo, you gonna buy anything”?

“W- Well maybe, I– shiver, I actually have some gi- gifts for you.” Clearing your throat you physically cringe at the stuttering. It makes you seem.. I don’t know.. Fanfic material or something.

“Gifts”?

“Yea! Gifts.. T- To show you my um… G- Gratitude for- sigh, for giving me those items”.

He chuckled, “It’s not like I give you them for free or anything”.

“Yeah but sometimes you give me discounts”.

“Oh yeah huh”?

“So I— I wanted to give these to you, S- Sebastian”..

“You’re very stuttery today aren’t you”?

You look up at him while getting the things out of your bag.

You let out a shivery laugh, “Y- Yeah, I’ve never really um.. Given someone gifts before a- and it’s.. Spooky– down here”.

Sebastian could tell that was an excuse.

I know that was an excuse, it’s obvious you’re this way because of your little crush or something.

You hand Sebastian the items, his two claws engulfing yours. You wish these stupidly thick gloves were off your hands so you could actually feel his claws.

“And shaky”.

“Oh! Um”..

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks with concern. Putting away the items, he’s not sure why he even asked.

“Yeah I’m okay! It’s just um. Th- Those aren’t f- free.” Even with the small amount of built confidence, you were still very nervous.

“Oh of course they’re not. What is it? Do I have to give you some data or something? If you’re asking for cash then–”

“N- No”!

He’s surprised by the sudden and yippy-like voice.

“I uh, I don’t want data or cash”.

“... So, what do you want”?

“A. A uhm. Uh”.

“C’mon spit it out already”!

“A kiss!! Yeah a small kiss or something”..

.

.

.

Oh yes I love awkward moments, what about you?

“A kiss?” Sebastian repeats.

You nod, not even being able to speak right now. You’re looking at the ground with hands together and thumbs rubbing against the hard leather. If you weren’t sweating you definitely would be now.

“Y’know it would’ve made more sense if you said that before giving me the items”?

“Sebastian I’m serious”!

“Okay okay, yes you can have your kiss”.

You look up quickly, a quiet crack in your neck from turning it so fast.

You may think that you’re blushy and flustered one right now. Well that’s correct, if you can even blush.

Buttt you’re not the only one with a rapidly beating heart.

Sebastian’s trying to hide it, to not seem all vulnerable in front of somebody. Not just a human. Showing that you’re vulnerable is a sign of, I guess.. Weakness.

“But how can you even kiss me with that diving helmet”?

Oh yeah you forgot about that.

“O- Oh, yeah uhm- let me take care of that”.

That sentence peaks his interest, if you were to take that off then he’s sure your head would pop.

“W- Wait I was just joking—!” He reaches out to you to stop you, putting his right claw over your head gear.

Even though you’d be just fine with the pressure, you were shocked he even stopped you.

“Oh uhm. Sebastian. I’m not fully human, I can handle the pressure with or without the gear”.

Whattt??

His face scrunches with confusion and shock, stunned. 

You take off the head gear, but don’t worry, you’ve managed to disable that explosion thing. Just temporarily, they haven’t noticed yet.

You hold your gear in your hand, looking up at Sebastian.

You smile, showing off your yellowish, blueish teeth. Your ear fins sway slightly, up and down.

“Yeah I’m not really uhh, human. Fully anyways.” You set your gear on the ground—

“A- And I’ve taken care of that blowing up device. S- So don’t worry”.

God he reallyyy hopes that nobody walks in right now.

“Th- They can’t hear me either so, I’ll be fine temporarily. I’ll soon have to turn it all back on so they don’t suspect anything”.

Wow.

He thought you were kinda dumb to add onto your shy personality.

Damn.

That’s um.

Surprising.

You can feel his stare on you. It’s not very uhh, it’s not a good feeling.

You look back up at him, putting a hand over your forehead as if it were a visor.

“Do I not look good or-”

“N- No! That’s not why I’m staring. It’s just.. Surprising. I couldn’t really get any hints on how you weren’t a human”.

“Ah, well that was on purpose actually. I- I’m not sure if you really do scents but– I gave myself a more human scent and covered up the dark green skin with a more human one”.

Woww, yes you’re sooo smart.

He keeps on staring at you.

“Anyways, what about that uhm.. That kiss..?” You mentally cheer at the least amount of stutters in the much bolder question.

“O- Oh yes”!

Oo! A stutter!

“Well I doubt you would kiss me on the lips”.

“O- Oh I don’t m- mind— Ughh, I don’t mind kissing you anywhere really. Just a kiss itself is fine”!

“Oh really?” He teased.

“Y- Yes.” You whisper.

“Well, how about a kiss to the palm, yeah? Not too forward and nearly just the right amount of romance”.

“Yeah that’s fine”!!

Your somewhat wobbly legs move over to Sebastian. He slightly moves his right claw to your face, casting a shadow over your head because of how big it is.

You grab both sides of his hand and lean over to his palm, giving it a quick—

Smooch!

To the palm. Even after the kiss you still stay there for a few seconds, before backing away with your hands behind your back.

You hurriedly put your head gear back on before quickly stuttering out—

“T- Thank you f- for the k- kiss! I enjoy- gulp, enjoyed it”!

Rushing out of the shop, you let out a huge breath.

As if this was some show, the camera would pan to Sebastian’s scrunched up face, his lip(?) quivering. He’s happy that he’s cold blooded, or else he’d be blushing very, very hard right now.

He holds up that same palm, and puts it to his lips(??).

Letting out a shaky breath.

Guys guess how much words..

1773!!! I'm so good at um. Long fanfics yeah😛😛

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cabin in the woods (yan!slasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!slasher!Horangi) part 4

You wake up in the murderer's den. Things can only go downhill from here - especially when one of the killers expresses an unusual interest in you. WARNINGS: Blood, dub-con, threats of intimacy, general slasher-y, a bit of knife play

All things considered, Horangi has won at life. 

He has a boyfriend – an amazing boyfriend, a bit older, a soon-to-be-husband, and his best friend in one tight package. They share hobbies, they share views on the world – practically everything that they can talk about, they share with each other. It’s a perfect relationship, especially considering where they met and how they were at first. 

He has an amazing job in doing private contracts with his boyfriend – some people may call them killers for hire, war criminals, and monsters draped in a uniform, but Horangi likes to call himself a promising immigrant entrepreneur who works for no one but himself and enjoys having most days off. 

He has an amazing, big house in the middle of picture-perfect Austrian wilderness, with every room dedicated to his or his partner’s tastes and hobbies, and that is literally four times as big as any of the apartments he rented previously. 

He has an amazing hobby that allows him to combine hiking, shooting, and socializing – and König shares this hobby with him, actively supporting and engaging with it. 

So, when he drains the blood from his knife – too bad the perfect lil’ victim isn’t here to clean it with her tongue – and starts to look for the remaining group of dumb tourists, deciding to head home just for a minute or two, to see if some of the prey would accidentally found it, he…

Fuck. 

*** You woke up with a throbbing headache. Not surprising, considering you were hit in the back of your head with a force that would be enough to turn your brain into a scramble. You slowly opened your eyes, surprised that you weren’t blindfolded, and gently, slowly tried to move your head around to see the room better. Bright light coming from the doorway immediately made you ill, nauseous. You close your eyes and groan, feeling the pain only intensifying. 

You’re very surprised to feel a cold cloth being slowly put on your burning forehead – you’d expect to be hanging from a meathook and have your buttocks eaten by a pack of wild creatures beyond your comprehension. 

— Tssh, Scatzi, don’t move. Hit you in the head too hard, ja? Good thing you won’t need it anyway. 

You hear the voice – not masked, not changed from multiple layers of different material – clean, unfiltered voice. That familiar boyish tone and deep gruff of a man from the corner shop – the tall one, the most mysterious one, the one that made you paranoid for the whole journey with his remarks. 

God, you feel stupid. 

It’s just like in slashers – the killers are always the weird guys who you meet at the start of the movie or some force from the legends you hear about this place. You feel dumb, you feel weak, you feel like you’re going to throw up because the big man – the one that shot Marty with a fucking crossbow – is gently caressing your forehead with his hands, smearing blood and grime all over your skin. You want to puke. 

— Wh…whatever you’re doing, m…make it quick. 

You can on ly master this, your lips are too dry for something else. You wanted to ask him different questions – where are you, who the fuck are he, what are his goals and mommy issues that made him prey on innocent young adults just having a shitty getaway in the forest, but you remember the other guy’s reaction to dumb questions – you want to die quickly, not slowly and painfully. 

— Ach, Hase. Eager, are you? 

This…isn’t the answer you were hoping for. His hands slowly creep down your face, pinching your cheeks – he touches the softer parts of your mouth, and your nose, tugs on your ears, and does whatever he can to just feel your features in his fingers, which makes everything only creepier. He pushes a finger past your lips – you want to bite it, but he only laughs at your pathetic attempts. 

He tells you something through a laugh that makes your head hurt more. Something about how Horangi was right about you being a kitten – that you bite just like one. You feel embarrassment spreading across the heat of your cheeks, knowing that your best attacks are only an amusement for your captor. 

His hands then move down, slowly. He pushes it under your shirt – and here is where you really start to panic. You’re mostly fine with getting killed, even in a weird and somehow funny, theatrical way, but you don’t…you don’t want to handle this before he eventually strangles you to death. You sob, your face twitches in pain-stricken expressions – tears only make your head hurt more, but you just can’t stop yourself. 

The guy – he still wears a hood, just not the weird thing that makes his voice change – only laughs and plays with your chest, squeezing and touching it with his huge, bear-like hands. He is relentless in not caring about your well-being, and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of breaking you, but tears just won’t stop flowing, and the heat in your belly, provoked by that unwanted affection, grows more with every second. 

His touches aren’t painful – but you wish they were. He is observing your body, studies it with his hands and you don’t like it one bit. Too rough, too strong for you, he has manners of a forest troll and, to be honest, in that stupid hood of his, he looks just like one. You’d jump from the bed and run to the  nearest exit, but your head is still throbbing, and you still tied up to the bedpost. God, this is embarrassing. 

— You’re trembling like a virgin, Schatz. Are you sure that your friend was a whore and not you? 

König laughs, looking at the perfect display under him. Yes, yes, he knows that Horangi will be pissed with how he sped up the story and decided to keep you in their house, but he is sure he can't convince his pretty boyfriend that it’s all for the best. They need a toy – precious darling, something weak and helpless, something innocent to bite into. You are a good runner, to his surprise, but your fight is as miserable as your expression – you can’t put up a good fight and he fucking lives for each second of that. 

— Stop touching me! — Are you going to stop me? — I…

— I love trembling prey. You look so perfect under me, Hase, I don’t think you’d stand a chance.

Of course, he is a hunk of a man – a wall of muscles, brutal strength, and nothing but raw power, so even if you were an Olympic champion in fistfights, you probably wouldn’t stand a chance against him anyway. He is trained to kill, he is training everyone else to kill – and he needs some snacks for how good the hunt was. Two dumb tourists, killed on the first night in the woods – and with others still having no fucking idea. God, it makes his dick hard. 

König pushes his hand under your shirt and finds where your tits are concealed with a bra – sports one, really nice, he thinks, but you’d look much better in blood-stained lace. He yanks that stupid thing off your chest – your nipples are hardening almost immediately, even under your shirt. Ah, looks like he forgot to turn on the heater. 

Well, you have to get the heat from his body then. 

— S…stop, please. 

— You like it. Why should I stop? 

— I don’t like it! 

His other hand goes to run a finger across your soaked, heated panties. The rough texture of the glove fabric is grazing your labia, and touching your gentle, wet folds makes you squirm and cry even more under him – he knows you hate it, embarrassed to be this aroused for the hands of a killer, but he just can’t fucking resist. He knows your hands are tied firmly to the bedpost, he knows you won’t be able to escape even if he’d leave the room right now – so he slowly removes his hand from your panties, showing you the glistening, wet material of his gloves. 

He licks your wetness from his fingers – and you let go of a half-moan, half-cry, disgust mixed with fear and pouring into delicious feelings of complete devastation. Poor thing, so scared under him – so embarrassed of your arousal, he just fucking knows you aren’t like your friends. You’re still dumb, of course, with how you agreed to go to this forest even after all of his attempts to say that this is dangerous, but you’re also pretty, adorable, and don’t try to either attack or seduce him or Horangi – and he had a fair share of people who were trying to do both, until they’d found out he is a masked killer for real, and not just for the slasher season atmosphere. 

You’re a little rabbit on his slicing board – and the knife appears in his hand too quickly for you to even start panicking. The blade lingers on your skin, slowly removing such silly, useless things like shirts and modesty, closing your skin just enough to burn a little, but not enough to do real damage. He killed more than 100 men with his knife, and skinned alive more than at least a dozen – König knows how to operate, especially when you’re bound and scared into submission. 

— Ko, what the fuck are you doing? 

Ach, Horangi is here. Finally, he just started to worry that those dumb tourists have learned how to fight back and now are trying to fuck with his partner. It would be funny to look at, of course, but he still doesn’t want anything to happen to him – so he sighs with relief when he sees a familiar masked figure in the doorframe. Then he remembers that he wasn’t supposed to take in pets so soon. 

Fuck. 

— I thought we agreed to not take her so quickly. 

Horangi takes a step further, watching as your eyes are pleading with him for help. You’re adorable – praying for help from your tormentor, so sweetly broken already that he can barely contain himself. You’re adorable, but he isn’t in the mood of playing with victims nicely, and he is still a bit pissed off at König for ruining the promise he gave him. Not the best attitude in an honest relationship, especially when you are trying to introduce a new member of those relationships. Honestly, sometimes Hong-jin was thinking about hiring a couple of therapists. And then killing him after extracting every answer. Totally normal behavior. 

— I know, but…she fell into my hands. Couldn’t say no to an opportunity. 

He knows that König is grinning under his hood – his eyes are gleaming with happiness as he just got his new favorite toy on a silver platter. Horangi melts a little bit at seeing him this happy – the latest couple of missions weren’t the best, so this hunt got to be good. And so far, it is. 

— You killed the stoner? 

— Ja, was easy. Surprised he died from a bolt in the head, he didn’t seem like a guy who has much up there. 

God, his sense of humor is fucked up – Horangi laughs for a good few seconds, not even trying to contain his emotions. You are still on the bed, your hands are tied to the post, rough ropes sit too tightly on your wrists, already angry red from all of your struggling. God, you’re looking delicious, covered in the blood of your friends, crying and looking like their own little death goddess. He knows he shouldn’t give up on temptation – and he also knows that he wants to fuck you. 

Laying here, without a top, with a wet stain on your jeans from your own arousal, you don’t even know how delicious you look. How hard it is for both of them, to stop looking at you like a horny dog and just do their thing. Killing thing, that is. Yes, they suppose to kill their victims, not tie them up to the bed and think about burying their cocks deep in your welcoming, wet pussy. 

Fuck, he has to be stronger than this. Killing is okay, torturing is okay, maybe kissing his boyfriend on top of the rotting, dead bodies is okay, but he just knows that he can’t start touching you because he would lose control and they might spend the whole night taking you from one dick to another, instead of doing what they have to. 

Maybe, just a little touch would be okay. Like a gamble, russian roulette in trying to see if he would be able to contain himself. Like Horangi had such great luck at anything that is connected to gambling. 

— We can’t keep her here. 

— Why? I would feed her and walk her once in a while. 

You whine, and König immediately goes to cover your mouth with his hand. You cry even more, feeling the filthy taste of your juices, blood, and dirt enveloping your tongue and making you want to gag. This is digesting, he is disgusting, you hate nature, wilderness, and this fucking country. If you were to get out of this place, you’d beg every oil company in the world to make the biggest fucking gasoline refining factory out of this forest. 

— What about the police? She can call them. 

— No signal. 

— She could scream for help. 

— We can cut off her tongue. 

— She wouldn’t be able to suck our dicks then. 

— Oh. Scheisse. 

— Exactly. We can’t keep her here. 

— But you said that we can…

— Not now, I mean. Having a kitten like ‘er at home makes me want to stay inside and fuck her whole day, not running around after her stupid friends. 

König finally gets it – and Horangi is right, much to his dismay. You are a distracting little thing, getting into the killer’s layer too early. Adorable and weak, keeping you inside would be the best option – but they still need a bit of space to guy your friends in the basement, so keeping you inside would make you…nervous. Scared. Not a pleasurable type of scared, you can go crazy from horror and then turn into a useless, empty sex doll. König would still brush your hair and love you nonetheless, but it would be a waste to keep you like this. 

Then, again, it would make it easier for you three to have sex…

— That’s also true. But I already cut her clothes. 

— We can let her run for a bit. Make her friends panic, fuckin’ civvies aren’t even aware that two of their friends kicked the bucket. 

— Doubt they care about each other that much. 

— Good thing we got involved, right? 

Horangi’s hand gently pats on your head – you wince from pain and he slightly moves the cold cloth on your forehead. The movement is similar to how people are petting cats – you hate it, you feel your legs preparing to kick him in the direction of his dick – but König presses on your ankles before you could do anything. Asshole.

— Need to do something with her shirt tho. 

— She’d look adorable in mine. 

— Yeah. Would cover her too much tho…I miss looking at boobs like this. 

— You have them, no? 

— It’s pecs. if anything, yours are bigger than mine. 

They both laugh – you are munching on König’s hand more actively, trying to get this out of your mouth. They talk like you aren’t even here and your eyes are filled with tears again – from humiliation, from fear, from desire to run away because they don’t even consider you an enemy and you just want to get out, as soon as possible. They look almost normal together – like two loving partners discussing the latest news and hobbies, not a pair of psycho killers who almost made you hot and bothered for their stupid, definitely not attractive, masks. 

You’re topless, barely wearing your jeans and panties – not exactly the best outfit for running through the forest. Would attract attention, of course, but you could also catch a cold, and they can’t exactly fuck a sniffing, coughing darling who is too sick to understand which hole are they using and what type of knife is plunging in her tender, open skin. 

König throws a shirt on you – it’s musky, covered in mysterious stains, smells exactly like him, and a bit of pine tree. It’s such a typical red flannel that it makes you gag from the stereotype – but it covers your boobs and he is even polite enough to slowly untie one of your hands, firmly keeping it in place to get you into the sleeves and…

Once he had two of your hands in his grasp, you bit on his glove especially hard, kicking him in the groin again – this time, not even bothering to hear his moans. You jump to the floor, barely seeing anything as your view is darkening with a throbbing headache. You have to master everything you have to not throw up on their boots – and you ignore their disappointed yelps as you duck under the shorter guy’s hands and run to…you don’t even know where to run, you just know that you are not staying with the people who are treating you like a fucking lure to get the rest of your friends. 

You can’t go to your friends – you already saw just how much they don’t want to listen to you. You can’t call the police and you can’t return to the camp because then the killers would know where all of your stuff and your friends are. The only chance you have is to fight them off – which is already proved itself as a Bad Fucking Idea(™. All right reserves to Amazon, you got your critical thinking skills during an online sale), so you need to find a distraction – or a weapon. 

You’re literally in the house of murderers. If horror movies taught you anything, it’s that those kinds of houses are usually filled with the weapons of crime – or extensively sharp deer antlers. 

You run to the second floor, dropping something behind your back – trying to get as much distance between you and them as possible, you crawl on the stairs, holding your head in poor attempts of soothing the pain. Their house is…normal. 

Posters, paintings, some weird fucking shit like anime girls with cat ears staring at you with their bigass eyes and even bigger boobs – one of them had a knife plunging right into her chest, kinda making you feel it was more like target practice than fap material. You drop a big Lego set behind you, and the guy – bigger one, you still don’t have their names and you don’t want to know them – is yelling something about 12 hours put into that thing. Good. You can at least do psychological damage. 

The house is as normal as a killer’s den can be – no weapons lying around, no knives just kinda lying there, much to your disappointment. Inflation is real, even serial killers can’t afford to just have their guns lying around like they used to. Fuck, this used to be a proper country. Fuck, you used to spend your days at home, not running away from masked killers who are keeping their houses cozy and tidy and honestly kinda clean even if this has sort of man cave vibe, which is totally understandable and adorable if…

Shit, you got distracted. Dead people, dead people, dead people, you can’t allow your natural drive to strong partners and masks to make you forget about the…death of very annoying and honestly plain mean people who were making your life worse actively every day and who had it coming anyway, but they still didn’t deserve such horrible death without even letting their parents know where their remains lie and…

Before your brain could master more annoying thoughts, you pushed to an open door. There has to be something you can use – pills, knives, guns, remains of the previous victims that can be sharpened and used against them so you can let them how it is to be violently penetrated for once! Come to think of it, judging by how cozy they were with each other, they probably already get penetrated a lot…ah, diversity wins, your murderers are bisexual and fine with polyamory. 

 You open the door, pushing it with all of your body weight – and you fall, only barely able to protect your face with your trembling, shaky hands. God, you’re miserable. 

— Shatzen found a way into our bedroom. You sure we can’t keep her, Tigeren? 

— It would be boring, no? 

— We can use her for a bit and then let go. Make her show us where her friends are.

König sits right next to you, patting your head. 

— Braves Mädchen, so smart. Didn’t know such smart girls were going on such dumb field trips. 

— Can she be the smart one in the group then? 

— Well, she did go to the woods alone. So smart. 

They both laugh again – you grit your teeth, saving every bit of strength you still have in your body, to just push from the ground and get on your legs again. You can do this, you can still run away, you just need to try and push further, a little bit, just a few steps more, just…

König slaps your ass, hard enough to send you on the floor again. You groan, both from pain and humiliation. 

— Dumb girl. Do you really think you can be this adorable and expect us to just contain ourselves? 

— I…I…

— What is that, kitten? You want to apologize for running away? Want to beg us to save your friends? 

— I…f-fuck you. Both of you. 

Another harsh slap – the other guy gets his hand in your hair, tugging it just enough to make you groan from the headache again. 

— Oh, this is exactly what you are going to do. 

A noise from outside of the house startled you both. You hear Max’s voice – annoying as always, that know-it-all tone that usually makes your blood boil, but what sends happy shivers down your spine. You were found! Finally, at least one of the group is smart enough to find you and distract the killers so you can both run away and…

Oh god, Max is outside and yelling, he is definitely alone and they both are muscular, big gues with a bunch of weapons and you as a hostage and…shit. 

— Go on, Katzen. Scream for him, ja? Lure the mouse in. 

You grit your teeth, yelling out the best “Get the fuck out of here, it’s not safe” as you can. 

They laugh. 

The world finally turns to black with another season of silly girl falling conscious in the best plot moments. 

[mo-ondrcps]

♖ ˗ˏˋ 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 ´ˎ˗

❛ how fate cruelly plays with your hearts while a stranger desperately try to save you in each dream you had, over and over again.❜

: ̗̀➛ dragon! jiyan x town folk! reader warning(s): reader drowning twice, mentions of death (no major!). content: fem! reader, magical town vibes like magic humans and mythical creatures, jiyan dragon protective of you genre: au — magical town, fantasy, reincarnation, soulmates, romance, slight angst word count: 2.4K author's note: i love protective jiyan, makes anyone feel safe in his arms.

    Water surrounded you, making it impossible to breathe. You couldn't decipher whether you're dead or drowning in the ocean, though a bystander would think you're suffering from both because of your lack of struggle, slowly descending deeper. The light from the waters above your clouded vision continued to fade until a figure above dove in, swimming towards your direction. Unfortunately, his face was only just a silhouette, attempting to reach for your hand and resurface to save you. You wanted to move forward, take the stranger's hand in yours, but an unknown force within you had no strength to do so.

"(Y/n)...!"

    Your name, or what sounds like your name, came out in thick gurgles of water from the stranger. They still persisted in swimming with much of their might to save you. Who is this person? If they continued to sink in deeper with you, there would be no hope for either of you to live. How foolish. Your eyes slowly gave in to the darkness surrounding them before opening once more.

    Your eyes take in the surroundings of your room, all dimly lit by the moon that glanced from the open peak of your window curtains. Your head turned in search of your wall clock.

2:37 am.

    A sigh left your lips, burying yourself further into the warm blankets for comfort. It was the same dream that haunted you for years, the ocean and you sinking into your demised. However, the small moment didn't strike fear in you, at least you hoped not yet. You haven't visited the beach for over ten years now and you always found yourself sticking by the sand whenever your family asks you to come with them.

    You rise up from your spot on your bed, leaving to grab a glass of water before returning to your room. They were both calm, your water and the ocean from your dreams, moving on their own except for the other being more dangerous if you sink in too deep.

    But that man, who was he?

    You thought of leaving it aside, knowing your work starts early in the morning, taking a sip of your water before resting back on the comforts of your mattress.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

"But you never saw his face? That's a shame... You should've seen it if he was cute or not."

    Your eyes narrowed at your friend after telling them the entire story of your dreams again. They always knew what kind of stress you're dealing with, but never knew the answer to how to solve it. At first, they informed you to brush it off as a simple vision your mind had randomly come up with until it grew too frequent for them to ignore.

"You really had to focus on that detail?? I can't just fall for every random stranger in my dreams."

    A boisterous laugh came from the mouth of your friend before shaking their head at your deadpan expression.

"At least they treat us better than the men in this reality. Who knows? With how frequent you meet yours, he might actually appear right through that door!"

    Now a smile erupted your features before bursting into a laugh at how silly they were acting with you. Though absurd, you still appreciate their sense of optimism in your dream related problems. A small chime came from the door, signaling a customer walked into the shop. Your friend gave you a small nod, which you returned before watching them move to entertain them. You, on the other hand, busied yourself in writing a list of the potions you both need to make and what's available to write down and display on the racks.

"Excuse me?"

    A voice deep yet soothing to your ear came in front of you, making you look up to them.

"Hello, what can I get for you?"

    The man was dressed in simple black and midnight green robes embroidered by silk and gold accents, making him stand out only just a bit but not too much to get everyone's attention. It was clear he looked like a soldier or a protector of some kind because of the sword strapped around his waist.

    You thought you would have recognized him because of this small town, but then again, he might be a wandering traveler from afar so you can't assume too quickly.

"Do you have any good potions for healing? I seem to run out myself on the way here."

    The man replied with a slight scratch on his nape. You nod before smiling, taking out a regular sized bottle. It's mixture flowing through green and hues of blue gradient inside, shimmering in utter brilliance.

"That will be fifty gold for a healing potion."

    He reached out from his pocket, pulling a small pouch where he fumbled to grab the amount needed. The man set down sixty-five gold instead of fifty, leaving you surprised at the change. You took the extra, your hands moving to give it back.

"I can't accept this much."

"Please, this shop deserves much recognition for the work you and your companion put through for everyone who needs it. Keep my change."

    Before you could push more to give the extra back, the man bows slightly before leaving the shop. Your friend, who just came back, glanced at the man you just entertained before turning to you with a playful smile you knew you wouldn't enjoy.

"Who was that? He looks so good! I've never seen him before. Do you think he's-."

    Just when your friend was about to ask you for more information about the customer you entertained, you stopped her train of thoughts, speaking ahead of them before it goes in a direction you'll never get back from.

"And don't you think it's your turn to brew new potions to stock while I grab some herbs we need outside? The strength and healing potions won't produce themselves."

    Your friend groaned.

"Let me dream a little. My single life won't move by itself either!"

    Throwing your quill pen at them, you caused them to move aside but still took the blow from the quill thrown at them, laughing at your advancements before heading into the staff room to do their work while you prepared your journey in the forest for herbs. You pack containers, water, and a bit of snacks to aid your short travel. You bid goodbye to your friend, starting your walk into the forest.

    You had a list written by you with a few additions to your friend. You crouched down to pick up yellow and purple flowers, one that radiated like the sun and the other mirroring the deepest night sky of the auras. Since you were here, it shouldn't hurt to grab them for a potion of good sleep. Not that you never tried it before and have it mix with your cup of tea. Your friend suggested this once after experiencing four nights of the same dream in your sleep, but it never worked.

    You move to the next item on your list, which is dewberries, picking at least three before turning your head to the bushes rustling nearby. Your eyes scanned the area before resuming your work of collecting three more until a large hand grabs your mouth, pulling you back towards their body.

"Such luck of running into a lady."

    A skinny man walked into the scene, next to his companion, who took you by surprise. He spoke before smirking. The items from your bag scrambled down after being forcefully pulled away. The man who held you back took one of them, shaking the containers of herbs inside before turning his head back towards you.

"A smart one who can provide and heal too! How much do you think we can make out of her if we sold her to the palace?"

    The skinny man only laughed before ordering his companion.

"Stuff her in the bag. I know we'll make a fortune in that case."

    You struggle in the gruff man's hold who was opting to lift you up while his friend took the large sack they had slung behind his back. Your legs kicked and swung around, managing to injure the skinny man on the groin out of pure luck. But you knew you needed more than that.

"Feisty as well! You'll pay for all the damages you'll do to me and my companion. Now stay still or-."

    A powerful surge of wind ripped through the scene, causing all of you to shut your eyes while your captors try to stay in place on the grass below, gripping onto the strands before getting blown away a few steps.

"You!"

    The voice of a man came, commanding and stern, but there was no man. Only the figure of a large, bright green, slender dragon came in sight. He was exactly like what the stories you kept hearing as a child.

    The Midnight Dragon.

    Its nostrils flared in anger, watching the two men as if they were its prey. The men who held captive of you had their hands tremble beneath their fingertips, eyes staring wide at the force of nature they just angered without moving another muscle.

"Begone or I will banish you myself."

    The men cowered in fear, flinging your body to a shallow lake before leaving in a hurry into the direction of the city. The dragon quickly shifts into a human man, running to the lake before diving in to save you.

    Your arms flailed around to resurface from the water. You weren't sure if you should feel even more terrified now that reality is making you sink deep into the waters just like in your dreams. No, nightmares. If only you agreed with your friend to teach you a bit of swimming, but you were too stubborn, confident enough that drowning would never cross in a moment of your life.

    Right now, you were afraid.

    Maybe it was a warning that you stupidly ignored and now you've fallen deep to your demise. You allowed your eyes to shut, accepting the darkness with the faint figure of the man reaching for your hand.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

    Jiyan thought he could never save you, blaming himself for how slow he was in every haunting nightmare that plagued his thoughts. As if his previous life wasn't enough to make him feel guilty about how much pain you've pulled through and now in this timeline? How much more does he need to suffer?

    He swam deeper, faster, just to grab a hold of your hand before pulling you up with him to the surface. Jiyan carried your body to a nearby tree, setting you down next to it before leaning his head to your chest and mouth to check for your vitals. For the love of the gods, please don't let him see you dead again.

    Using the heel of heel of his dominant hand and the other hand resting on it above your breastbone, he began to push, watching a couple of water droplets leave your mouth. Jiyan counted quietly in inaudible whispers, begging for your revival until slowly a cough came from your lips, causing him to step away a bit to give you some space.

"(Y/n)?"

"W-who- I-."

    You shut your eyes, rubbing away the water residuals that dropped from your hair, regaining consciousness from the events prior.

"What... what did you just say?"

    Jiyan's eyes widen but you didn't catch his surprise, only a clear of his throat before carrying you in his arms again as if you were lightweight. A feather, if he might add, but he'll tease you later. He valued your safety the most, so he took you back home while you had a million questions running in your head, especially how he knew where you lived.

"Stalker much?"

    You uttered above a whisper, making Jiyan shake his head quickly before you act on him.

"I-... You wouldn't believe me if I told you this."

"I'm all ears... Midnight Dragon."

    You didn't know how else to call him besides what the stories and myths had told you. It made Jiyan's heart sink, trying to accept the fact that you will never remember him. Maybe in this life you wouldn't, but it didn't stop him from being your sole protector wherever you go. Why did it have to be him to be cursed to remember everything while you were reborn to forget?

    Jiyan was silent through the entire journey, slipping into the crack of your window with you in his arms, which you forgot to close before leaving. He set you down on the comforts of your mattress before finally answering.

"I've been protecting you endlessly in our previous life and now... Believe it or not."

    Jiyan confessed. It made you confused.

"Previous life? I never remembered anything or been aware of... living longer like you do."

    If it has been that way, maybe you should've had some majestic powers to make you live longer like him. Your thoughts only made Jiyan chuckle softly before ruffling your damp hair, mind racing at what you both could've possibly been, but you had no memory at all whatsoever.

"You may not remember anything about me. But I'll make sure you'll always feel safe and maybe... feel loved by me again in this timeline..."

    Jiyan took your hand, kissing your palm gently. It felt as if a gentle breeze flowed against your skin, gracing you with the dragon's passion and attention. Everything felt like a dream, to actually see the dragon in person who has concealed its identity until years later. Did it have anything to do with your existence? It made you wonder. Most especially with the mystery laced in his words about you and him.

"If heaven ever gives us the chance to meet again, I'll always keep loving you at that time and the next."

    His words held a promise that strangely made your heart accept him entirely. Jiyan smiled, rising from his feet, making you scramble from your seat on the bed.

"Wait."

    He paused, eyebrows raised in question.

"What's your name?"

"Jiyan."

    He blew a soft breeze in front of your face, effectively hitting your eyes before watching you fall back asleep on your bed. It made Jiyan smile, admiring how peaceful you look, waving his arm above your figure to use his own magic, drying your clothes to avoid you from waking up with a cold. He pulled the covers over your body, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead before leaving the room. Jiyan shut the windows behind him, taking a mental note to remind you about it before disappearing into the night.

    For the first time in your life, you finally got over your nightmares of drowning. Your dreams only painted the image of green and blue hues of a dragon before shifting to the figure of Jiyan, planning on your next meeting with him again.

author's note: took a bit of inspiration from the potions event of genshin. i was trying to find a good occupation for reader in a magical town and thought of that!

© MOONDRCPS. avoid stealing or translating my work to other sites. likes and reblogs on my works are appreciated ᵔᴗᵔ

[satori-runa]

—A while in eternity

Summary: You reunite with your husband but Sebastian believes it's just another hallucination and gets frustrated.

Tags: Established Relationship, slight angst, fluff, comfort

Words: 2,1k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Time lost all meaning in the depths of the Hadal Blacksite. Your diving suit was torn, exposing your skin to the freezing water that clung to you like a second skin. Cuts marred your arms and legs, the saltwater biting into them with every movement. Yet, you kept moving, slinking through the narrow corridors like a desperate creature in search of survival.

Numbness crept through your limbs, and exhaustion clouded your mind. You cursed yourself for ever accepting Urbanshade's deal—it had seemed like the only option, but now it felt like a death sentence you couldn’t escape all over again.

Three days had passed, or so you thought, though time had become a blur of endless, grueling moments. You’d tried to rest once in a side room, but the lurking threats made it impossible to stay put. The Blacksite was alive with danger, and pausing for too long invited it to find you. So, despite the agony coursing through your body and the weight of fatigue dragging at your thoughts, you pushed forward. There was no stopping. Not yet.

You pressed your hand to the cold, damp wall, wincing at the sharp pain in your side. Each step felt heavier than the last, but you knew you had to keep moving. The Blacksite was an unforgiving place—if the environment didn’t kill you, Urbanshade’s forces would.

Every now and then, distant sounds reached your ears—footsteps, the low hum of machinery, the occasional drip of water. Each sound made your pulse race, a reminder of the threats constantly stalking the halls. You replayed Urbanshade’s offer in your mind, the deal you’d made to come here. It had seemed like a lifeline at the time, a desperate chance for survival. Now, it felt like a trap.

But you couldn’t give up. Not when you were this close.

As you rounded a corner, your blurred vision caught a flicker of movement. You froze, holding your breath as you tried to make out if it was a threat. The movement was subtle—a faint shift in the shadows ahead. Then, a soft metallic clink reached your ears, and your tense muscles relaxed slightly. It wasn’t an enemy, not in the way you’d feared.

A vent cover had come loose, hanging open. Curiosity sparked through your tired mind. There was a chance it could lead somewhere—a way out, or at least a temporary refuge. You approached cautiously, sliding the vent door fully open. The passage beyond was tight, but manageable. Crawling through, you ignored the sharp edges of the metal as they scraped against your already battered suit.

After what felt like an eternity, you emerged into a small room. Your knees buckled as you dropped down, landing hard on the floor. Blinking against the dim light, you took in your surroundings. It was a storage room, but something about it felt different. Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with supplies and broken devices. It looked more like a makeshift shop than a mere storage space, hidden away in the labyrinth of the Blacksite.

You moved cautiously, scanning the room for danger. Then you saw him.

For a moment, you thought exhaustion had finally driven you mad. But as your eyes locked onto the tall fish-like figure hunched over a workbench, everything else faded away. His familiar dark hair fell over his face, obscuring his features, but there was no mistaking him. Despite all the…new…parts, you could still recognize the man you loved the most.

Sebastian. Your husband.

Your breath caught in your throat, disbelief hitting you like a wave. You had grieved him, convinced he was dead, killed by human hands after his arrest. But here he was—alive.

You took a shaky step forward, your voice barely a whisper. “Sebastian?”

He froze, his body going rigid at the sound of your voice. Slowly, he turned to face you, but his expression wasn’t one of relief or joy. His now fluorescent eyes, glowing and filled with exhaustion, were twisted with irritation and anger. There was no recognition in them—only frustration.

“Not again,” he growled, his voice rough. He snatched a small tool from the table and hurled it toward you. You flinched as it clattered against the wall behind you, missing you by inches. “You’re not real! I know you’re not real!” His voice cracked with desperation, his hands shaking as he clenched them into fists. “You think I’ll fall for it again? You think I don’t know how this place messes with my head?”

He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, his gaze darting wildly between you and the corners of the room, as if expecting the illusion to unravel at any moment. “It’s not you.” He cried, his voice raw. “You’re not here. You’re gone. I won’t fall for it.”

Your heart twisted painfully at the sight of him—this broken, haunted version of the man you loved. He had been alone here for too long, tormented by the isolation and the tricks his mind played on him. You wanted to reach out, to tell him it was really you, but words felt useless in the face of his anguish.

Instead, you stepped forward, wordlessly closing the distance between you. He barely noticed, lost in his own torment. When you reached him, you gently placed your hand on his arm.

Sebastian flinched at the touch, his breath catching. His wide, frantic eyes snapped to where your hand rested on him, disbelief flooding his expression. For a moment, he just stared, frozen. Then, slowly, something shifted in his gaze. The wild panic faded, replaced by confusion and, finally, recognition.

“It’s… really you?” His voice was small, trembling with the weight of his uncertainty. His fingers hovered near your hand, too afraid to believe.

You nodded, tears filling your eyes as you finally found your voice. “I’m here, Sebastian. I’m real.”

The fight drained from him all at once. His form buckled, and he collapsed against you, his head falling to your chest as his hands clung to you as if you might disappear. His shoulders shook with silent sobs, the dam of his loneliness and grief finally breaking.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispered, his voice breaking with every word. “I thought I was alone.”

You held him tightly, your own tears falling as you whispered, “You’re not alone anymore.”

Your arms wrapped instinctively around Sebastian as he collapsed into you, his body trembling with the force of everything he'd kept locked away. His breath hitched against your chest, ragged and broken, and you felt his tears soaking into your torn suit.

For a moment, you just held him, your fingers gently threading through his hair, your own tears slipping silently down your cheeks. The realization that he was here—alive, breathing, and real—settled in like a shock to your system. You had lost hope, convinced that the cruel people had taken him from you forever. But here he was, the warmth of him in your arms dispelling the icy grip of the Blacksite’s horrors.

Sebastian’s grip on you tightened as if he feared you might vanish if he let go. “I tried,” he choked out, his voice barely a whisper. “I tried to find you, but I thought... I thought it was over. I thought I lost you for good.”

You held him tighter, your own voice still too shaky to form words. You had your questions—how he survived, what happened—but none of it mattered in this moment. Right now, the only thing that mattered was that he was here. Alive.

“It’s me,” you finally managed to whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I’m here, Sebastian. I’m right here.”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, his tear-filled eyes searching your face as if still needing to convince himself that you were real. His fingers brushed against your cheek, a soft, tentative touch. “I thought I was going insane.” He muttered, his voice wavering. “I thought it was just another hallucination.”

You shook your head slowly, pressing his hand closer to your face. “It’s not. I’m real, Sebastian. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time since you’d seen him, a flicker of hope passed through his exhausted features. His hand cupped your face fully now, his thumb brushing away a tear. He swallowed hard, trying to gather himself, but the emotion was too raw, too overwhelming.

“I don’t know how you found me,” he whispered, “but I’m so damn glad you did.”

Your arms wrapped instinctively around Sebastian as he collapsed into you, his body trembling with the force of everything he'd kept locked away. His breath hitched against your chest, ragged and broken, and you felt his tears soaking into your torn suit.

For a moment, you just held him, your fingers gently threading through his hair, your own tears slipping silently down your cheeks. The realization that he was here—alive, breathing, and real—settled in like a shock to your system. You had lost hope, convinced that the cruel waters had taken him from you forever. But here he was, the warmth of him in your arms dispelling the icy grip of the Blacksite’s horrors.

Sebastian’s grip on you tightened as if he feared you might vanish if he let go. “I tried,” he choked out, his voice barely a whisper. “I tried to find you, but I thought... I thought it was over. I thought I lost you for good.”

You held him tighter, your own voice still too shaky to form words. You had your questions—how he survived, what happened—but none of it mattered in this moment. Right now, the only thing that mattered was that he was here. Alive.

“It’s me,” you finally managed to whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I’m here, Sebastian. I’m right here.”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, his tear-filled eyes searching your face as if still needing to convince himself that you were real. His fingers brushed against your cheek, a soft, tentative touch. “I thought I was going insane,” he muttered, his voice wavering. “I thought it was just another hallucination.”

You shook your head slowly, pressing his hand closer to your face. “It’s not. I’m real, Sebastian. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time since you’d seen him, a flicker of hope passed through his exhausted features. His hand cupped your face fully now, his thumb brushing away a tear. He swallowed hard, trying to gather himself, but the emotion was too raw, too overwhelming.

“I don’t know how you found me,” he whispered, “but I’m so damn glad you did.”

You didn’t respond with words, instead, you pulled him closer again, feeling the warmth of his larger body against yours. You could sense the weight of his fear and loneliness beginning to lift, replaced by a sense of safety in your embrace.

As you sank to the ground, you drew him down with you, resting against the cool wall of the small storage room. His head nestled against your shoulder, and you wrapped your arms tightly around him, wanting to shield him from everything that had tormented him.

“I missed this.” He murmured, his voice muffled against your fabric. “I missed you... so much.” He began to cry again, soft sobs that reverberated in your chest, each one a release of all the anguish he had endured. “I missed your touch, your smile... everything.”

You stroked his hair gently, your heart aching at his words. “I missed you too, Sebastian. I never stopped thinking about you. I was lost without you.”

He pulled back slightly to meet your gaze, his tear-streaked face showing a mixture of pain and longing. “I thought I’d never feel your warmth again. I thought... I thought I’d have to go through this alone.”

“You’re not alone anymore.” You promised, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “I’m here, and I won’t let you go again. We’ll figure this out together.”

Sebastian closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply as if committing your presence to memory. “Just hold me a little longer.” He whispered, his voice trembling.

You nodded, adjusting your hold so he could nestle closer. As you both sat there in the dim light of the storage room, the horrors of the Blacksite faded away, replaced by the warmth of each other’s presence. The outside world ceased to exist, and for that moment, all that mattered was the gentle rise and fall of each other’s breaths.

“I’ll always be here,” you promised, wrapping him in your arms as you both found comfort in each other. “No matter what happens, we’ll face it together.”

Sebastian’s grip on you tightened, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. It was a soothing melody, one that brought you both peace amid the chaos of the Blacksite. As you held him close, you knew that no matter what lay ahead, you had each other—and that was enough.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

May I request a yandere naga x gn reader, [smut can be optional]

I love monster men! Sorry this took so long

Yandere!Naga x GN!Reader

CW: Death, blood, abduction, short drabble

A virgin sacrifice?

1974

The friend group of incredibly drunk college kids stood near the edge of a forest, headed by Nathan who was wielding a ridiculously goofy dagger he had found in a thrift shop, reading an incantation from equally goofy book.

"Oh Fentoo, deity of the Earth, hear our cries!" Nathan waved his dagger. "Behold, our virgin sacrifice!"

(Reader) snorted. "Who's the virgin?"

Nathan glared down at them from the stump he was standing on. "You are, now shoosh."

"But.. I'm not a virgin?" (Reader) rolled their eyes, exhausted from their friend's antics. "Why not use Gayle; he's a virgin."

The awkward nerd beneath Nathan looked up at his leader with wide eyes. "Please don't sacrifice me, Nathan."

Nathan dropped his arms to his sides, sighing, clearly upset over the amount of times his ritual was being interrupted. "Gayle's a virgin because, well.. look at him, no offense Gayle. But you're.. decent looking? Fentoo will be more likely to come if he thinks you're a virgin, right?"

(Reader) rubbed their eyes, exhausted after the amount of beer they had been chugging all night. "Right, and what happens to me when he finds out that I'm not a virgin?"

"I don't know..? He doesn't eat you?" Nathan shrugged. (Reader) couldn't tell if he truly believed in the nonsense he was spewing, but allowed him to continue regardless, ignoring him in favor for another beer.

Gayle shook, unstable on his feet. "So what do you get if Fentoo accepts the sacrifice- (Reader)?"

"Uh.." Nathan flipped through the worn out book. "Fine metals of the earth, which is his domain."

"Damn, you're going to kill me for some gold?" (Reader) playfully asked in an offended tone.

Nathan opened his mouth in a wide smile, ready to respond, but suddenly fell slack jawed, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

A dark shadow rose behind (Reader), engulfing them in an unnaturally coldness.

"No.. you shall receive nothing, but death."

A voice deep and gravely growled so lowly that it rumbled in the drunk adult's chest and made their knees knock together. Very slowly, (Reader) turned, alcohol failing to give them any liquid courage.

Blocking out the light of the moon, a being emerged from the trees and extended up, rising to his full height. With ink black, scaly skin that elongated beyond his waist, a half human half snake monster that was like a living shadow smiled down at the humans beneath him, the only visible feature being his bright white fangs.

His movements were faster than a lion's, launching past (Reader) and striking the two drunk men before they could run.

(Reader) was powerless as they watched their best friends get ripped apart in from of them, torn open by the monster's bare hands. Blood splattered everywhere, even hitting (Reader's) face with splashes of red.

And they could do nothing.

As he moved under the night sky, the moon now illuminated his body, revealing the blue shine to his scales and skin, the strong features of his mostly human, noseless face, and his long locks of black hair cascading freely down his muscular back. His black eyes appeared to be staring at everything and nothing, unblinking as he murdered two innocent humans.

(Reader) was ready to die. Frozen with fear, their drunken mind accepted their fate. Even after watching the god's jaw unhinge to consume the pieces that used the be their friends, (Reader) was still.

But their death never came.

They watched the monster eat until there was nothing left but blood stains, however, when he turned to (Reader), he was nothing but smiles.

"The debt has been paid." He stated while grabbing the ceremonial dagger off the grass.

(Reader's) face must have conveyed their bafflement, because the creature chuckled before explaining; "The sacrifice has been accepted. Now you shall be rewarded."

Liquid gold poured up through the dirt around the horrified young adult's feet, solidifying as it came into contact with the air.

A single tear cleaned away blood from (Reader's) cheek. "I don't want gold."

His smile grew, revealing the inhuman split in his cheeks. "Oh? And what is it that you want?"

He reached out a cold hand, caressing their stained face.

"Jewels?"

".. no."

"Iron? Copper?"

Each time they nervously shook their head 'no' it seemed to please the deity more.

"Would you perhaps.. wish for a long life? One full of joy, and free from pain?" His voice softened as he rubbed his thumb against their trembling bottom lip. They could see the round of Nathan and Gayle as they moved through his body to be digested.

More cries escaped them. "Yes, please."

As soon as the words left their lips, (Reader) was scooped into the creature's strong arms, cradling them to his chest.

"Good."

He carried his newly claimed partner towards his domain, the land of the immortal.

"I am Fe Ntu. And I'd be honored to give you joy and love, for the rest of eternity."

[amarynthian-chronicles]

A Game of Light and Shadows

Sebastian Solace x Reader

Simple pleasures had become a luxury for him a long while ago. Something as simple as lighting a cigarette, relishing the rush it gave to his tormented mind, the flickering flame of his golden lighter creating a playful display of shadows on the walls.

He took a long drag, enjoying the peace of his own company. A semblance of normalcy.

Sebastian was balancing a book in his other hand, his esca glowing enough for him to read. The pages were not in an enviable condition, having survived various disasters before haphazardly ending up in his little makeshift shop. "The Count of Monte Cristo". How ironic. How fitting.

Perhaps it offered a distorted form of comfort. A fragile hope that the wrongfully accused hero could indeed escape his prison and reclaim his destiny. A spark in darkness. And yet, cruel fate had made him unable to withstand proper light. Was he truly condemned to the underworld forever?

A familiar noise in the corner of the room. Sebastian had become so accustomed to your little "visits". His darling little nuisance, his silly little spark, haunting him in the depths.

You stood there in the penumbra, a sly smile gracing your features.

Your inexperience had transformed into skill, your fear morphing into bitter courage. You had become so confident, so strong. He had made you into such a magnificent creature, all according to his design and his plans. He would have you one day.

"Low on supplies, babes? You know the rules, take what you need and leave the required payment. Forgive me for not being a gracious host today."

"Actually, I am here to offer you a gift. Something to thank you for being my guardian angel."

"Is that so? There is no such things as gifts, babes. What do you want?"

You simply approached him, holding up a little bag for him to see. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to perform whatever trick you had in store. To his surprise, you produced a little package of ground coffee and two mugs.

"I did notice you have a water boiler here, so I was thinking that maybe we could enjoy something nice and warm together. How does that sound?"

So silly. The hopeful spark in your eyes, the sweet tone of your voice. Even after all the hardships you had endured, and all the changes you had undergone in order to survive into a proper warrior, that tiny bit of whimsy remained. Sebastian could not help but grin, tapping the ash from his cigarette into a nearby tray.

"Despair is a terrible thing, you know. It makes you seek the company of monsters. Loneliness pushes you into the arms any wicked creature in the vicinity, just to feel some sort of comfort."

"Oh, come on, Seb. Don't be so dramatic and have some coffee with me. Is it so outrageous that I simply wish to be your friend? Please? Just a little cup of coffee with me? You can show me what you are reading, as well."

Sweetling, creature of daylight. If moths were attracted to the light, were butterflies attracted to darkness? Perhaps he should indulge your request. It would be one step closer to his web, having your loyalty at his disposal.

He finished his cigarette and placed the book down, taking your bag. A few minutes later, his lair had the scent of freshly brewed coffee permeating the air. How domestic, how lovely. Perhaps, when all was over, he could make this bliss a reality with you. He could build a home with you.

You made a happy hum as you slowly sipped on the warm drink. It did wonders for the senses, awakening and sharpening them. You were about to compliment Sebastian's coffee-making skills, but you suddenly felt a pair of strong arms pull you upwards onto his lap. You felt warmth in your cheeks as Sebastian placed a clawed finger under your chin.

"Now, babes, how about we do some reading together, hm?"

He reached for his book once more and adjusted his position, making sure to continue having his arms around you. You made yourself comfortable, listening to his soft purrs, embraced by his soft darkness. A gentle kiss was placed on your cheek and your neck. You were happy.

[queenimmadolla]

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

(Tattoo Artist!Eddie Munson x Apprentice!Reader)

Summary: . . . After deciding you were meant for more than what life had in store for you, you gave into the siren call of the city─well a city. But when city life finally eats away at your bank account and your main source of income isn't reliable, you take on an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop where your boss is the six-foot something, tattoo covered Eddie Munson who quickly and unwisely becomes intrigued by you. Nothing romantic can come from it, lest you risk it being torn apart by your past, his lover and yourself.

Entire Work Warnings: 18+ (smut will take place in later chapters), swearing, financial problems, mentions of loss, escorts/call girls, age gap (Eddie is 36, reader is 25), financial shaming, slut shaming, implied sexual harassment, bimbo!reader (she may not be book smart but she knows the score) angst, self-sabotage.

a/n: based on my initial post and elements of Breakfast at Tiffany's. next chapters will be significantly juicer, this was just something to get us going. this is dedicated to @munsonology, happy birthday and I hope this year was a good one! and a very gratitude filled thank you to my dear friend, @kitmon, for continuing to be an an amazing beta! hope you guys like it so far ♡ (attempting the keep reading feature, fingers crossed)

word count: 5k

“They don’t bite.” “Hmn?” Came your absent-minded reply, eyes cutting from the harpy, evil in her eyes and blood soaking her talons, to the man flipping through the red binder you’d been carrying around you in the Indianapolis heat. 

  Sweat evaporated off your skin, giving away to goosebumps in the air conditioned shop, a much welcome relief to the borderline unbearable heatwave settling over the city streets, something that can be found in every nook and cranny. You’d been navigating your way throughout the city since before dawn broke, eager to get your fill of it while the streets were quiet and a decent temperature. It had been almost chilly this morning, your thick strapped tank top and daisy dukes—that you normally wouldn’t allow yourself to be caught dead in—leaving most of your skin exposed, with no direct sunlight to warm it. Now that the sun was out, you were on fire out there.

“The artwork.” He glanced at the framed harpy drawing along the wall, the one you’d been staring at, one of many framed depictions of gruesome and mythical looking creatures. “I don’t blame you though, that one isn’t particularly my favorite. Pretty badass, though. Heh.” “Oh,” You shook your head, the oversized shades adorning your face sliding down the bridge of your nose, “No, I’m not afraid of it. I like it. It must have taken forever though.”

  You turned your attention to her again, admiring how realistic her feathers appeared. Painstakingly detailed and whoever was walking around the city with her on their body surely endured a generous amount of pain to get her. 

  And a large hole in their wallet.

  “It took a ton of sessions, for sure. My boy did it a couple years ago.” The man, Argyle, as he’d introduced himself when you’d first walked into the shop, flipped his long black hair over his shoulder before he flipped to the next page of your portfolio. He let out a sound of appreciation as he leaned his weight on his elbow, hand resting over his mouth.

  “This is good! This is really good!”

You lifted your chin to peer at the drawing he was fascinated with. Ah.

It was a drawing of the skeletal Grim Reaper, cloaked in a black robe and scythe clutched in one hand while his boney middle fingers stretched his eye socket holes down in an obvious taunt. A tongue, black and tendril like, lulled out of his mouth.

You thought it was pretty good, too. The idea for it had struck you at a party, you’d been hiding from an annoying suitor and ducked into an office room, doodling to your heart's content once you grew past your boredom.

You grinned, a feeling of giddiness beginning to bubble inside you.

“Listen, the DM’s out right now, running some errands. He should be back soon, can I hold onto this?” Argyle asked, gripping the sides of the binder and raising it as if you didn’t already know he was referring to your portfolio, “I think he’ll be pretty impressed with your stuff.” You fidgeted with your fingers, giddiness giving away to nerves once more. “Really? You think so?” Hope was something you hadn’t felt in a while; you’d been through exactly fourteen tattoo shops throughout the city, most of which you’d been rebuffed from before they so much as flipped open your portfolio, having already decided your particular aesthetic didn’t fit their image. They hadn’t verbalized as much, but you knew. You glanced down at your pink boots, already such a stark contrast to the black beams beneath your feet.

It wouldn’t be a big deal if you hadn’t made a wager with yourself, you could only go home once you’d accomplished your task of getting one of the shop owners to actually look at your work. While Argyle had made it clear he wasn’t the head honcho, he’d be passing it along.

“Yeah, man! This is some pretty legit stuff! I’ve been tatting, myself, for a couple years now, and I’m good–don’t wanna flex or nothing but I’m really good. Only it took a couple of years for me to actually get this good, you know? And I’m not even talking about on skin. You haven’t tattooed anyone before, right?” You thought back to when you had mentioned your art skill to a brief...something, he’d been intoxicated enough on expensive wine and your sangria kisses to encourage you to use the tattoo kit one of your friends had re-gifted you after her interest in the subject waned. You’d never particularly imagined yourself etching into people’s skin before, not even when she’d given you the supplies because she’d seen some of your doodles.

Thanks to her, a suit and tie you no longer spoke to, who made more money than you’ll ever see, was walking around with a secret under his briefs: a pair of shiny cherries on his left ass cheek.

  It was no loss to you. Sure, he made money. Just not nearly enough for you to tolerate how aggressive he’d been with his affections as soon as he was sloshed. You’d given him the tattoo with his drunk pals cheering him on, went out to a very high standard club, then promptly ditched him the moment you were out of his sight. You hadn’t answered the door when he came pounding on it the next morning and the morning after that.

  You’d originally had no intentions of using the tattoo equipment, until that encounter. It had planted a seed, an idea that may get you out of what you had to do to survive. Tattooing hadn’t been a passion, and it still wasn’t quite one but you needed money and you had talent.

“No,” You lied with a shake of your head, “I haven’t.”

“That’ll change soon,” he laughed, closing your binder as he leaned further over the glass counter. Your gaze briefly flickered to the jewelry it housed.

  “You got a number we can reach you at?”

  You’d scrawled the number of your landline down on the back of one of their business cards before Argyle could rethink his decision to pass your work along. 

  “Hopefully, we’ll see you soon!” He called out as you retreated towards the door.

  God, I hope so.

  The thought of a somewhat stable job that could help the pitiful state of your checking and savings account was the only thing powering you through your long walk home. You couldn’t risk a cab, that would mean you’d have no fare money for tonight, and who knows if you’d have to make a speedy exit?

  You’d learned. Eventually.

  Forty-five minutes later, you entered your apartment, sagging back against the door as you dropped your bag and kicked your shoes off, unconcerned as to where exactly they’d landed. 

  Sweat glistened over your skin, and unlike in that last tattoo shop, there was no air conditioning to cool you. You and Sid saved that for special occasions.

  Instead, you opened the large window to the fire escape, obnoxious sounds of the city you called home filling the apartment.

  It wasn’t much, but it was better. Next came the matter of your clothes, stuck in the most uncomfortable of ways to your flesh. Your tank top was peeled off and thrown over the couch, daisy dukes abandoned near the entryway of the small kitchen on your way to the bathroom.

  A quick glance was spared behind you, taking in the state of your shared home. It was a mess and not even remotely surprising. The place was barely furnished with the essentials, all of which were secondhand: a couch, a coffee table with a sheet over it to hide the stains, one shelving unit, a rug and tapestries hung artfully on the walls for deception. They made the place look more put together than it was, but you’d love it even if it were still barren. A roof over your head in the city meant you didn’t have to return to the past you’d clawed your way out of..

  The only thing worth much was the framed photo on the kitchen counter, and that was only in sentimental value. You and Sid, arms around each other’s shoulders as you sat in a booth at a shitty diner you’d tried upon first moving to the city. They’d taken your photo for being the 600th customer and tacked it to the wall.

  You’d stolen it and had no regrets because you got to keep your memory and ended up getting food poisoning.

  With a shrug, you entered the bathroom for a much needed scrub down and some disassociating. Your mess could wait.

  ─

  Eddie was not in a great mood when he walked into the shop.

  His jacket was clutched in a sweaty palm, rings twisting around the flesh of his fingers and his bangs were beginning to stick to his forehead, all the result of the walk from his fucking car to the shop door. 

  “Grumpy?” Argyle asked, amused with the clear annoyance on his face.

  Eddie sneered, standing under the vent for a minute to cool down, “Triple digits. Triple fucking digits out there, man. You could shove a thermometer up the devil’s asshole and it’d be cooler than that.”

  Once he’d solidified, he stalked past the front desk, threw his jacket onto the counter and picked up a stack of mail.

  “Did I miss anything?” Eddie asked as he flipped through the envelopes, mostly junk.

  “A couple of walk-ins. Nothing too major there, handled them myself. Simple stuff, one wanted a goldfish. Not like a detailed one, like how you’d try and draw a goldfish cracker. We did have a few who wanted a couple of advance pieces, got ‘em booked for consultations with Johnny boy and Rob.”

  “Nice,” Eddie chuckled under his breath at the mental image of the goldfish tattoo, most likely an act of affection. Tattooing people who wanted to permanently carry reminders of their children was one of Eddie’s favorites to do, partially because of the sentiment but mostly because the drawings were amusing.

  He’d just finished tossing out the junk mail when he reached for his jacket to hang it up properly and discovered it had been concealing something. 

  “What’s this?” Eddie asked as he lifted the slim red binder. Looked relatively new.

  “Huh?” Argyle glanced up from the sketch he was working on, recognition flashing across his face, “Oh, yeah! We got a prospective new hire, someone dropped off their portfolio.”

  Eddie rolled his eyes and heaved out a heavy sigh as his jacket was tossed aside yet again. He had nothing against other tattoo artists, but the last one he’d hired that hadn’t come from his friend group ended up nearly destroying the group. 

  Henry had been charming, good at his job and charismatic. Turns out, he’d also been a master manipulator and had a particularly abhorrent temper. Tensions had been high, heads were butting and fights had occurred—with a permanent reminder in the wall near the front entrance where a large hole had been punched through. Henry had to go.

  Eddie wasn’t looking to repeat the situation.

  “I think we’re good on artists around here–and put a reminder on the calendar for me to patch that damn crater up.”  

  “Well, it’s a good thing the artist isn’t a tattoo artist. Yet. I’d look at that portfolio first before making any decisions, if I were you. I think you’re gonna see the beginnings of something goooooood, and dude, you’ll be killing our fun if you fix it. Do you know how many glory hole jokes we tell?” Eddie ignored the latter half of Argyle’s statement, reluctantly flipping the portfolio open to the first page and annoyance began to associate itself with him once more. 

  A body, in a state of decomposition greeted him. But it wasn’t maggots or rotting flesh involved. Flowers grew out of the crevices, with moss and mushrooms over her skin. A lot of fine line work.

  The next page was home to a bird-like creature with the body of a lion, a Griffin. Done in American Traditional.

  A skinny, demonic looking goat with horns and legs long enough to belong to a horse, clouded eyes and wyvern wings was on the page after that. The Jersey Devil. Someone knew their Cryptids.

  The portfolio contained a vast amount of drawings from horror depictions to more aesthetically pleasing visions; the hydra, skeletons, dragons, goddesses, respectable attempts at the modern Renaissance pieces, and even a couple of Barbie references, ranging in a variety of tattoo styles. 

  Eddie closed the portfolio and drummed his fingertips across the countertop, scowling. 

  That long haired doofus was right. This was beyond good work. But if they weren’t a tattoo artist, there wasn’t much Eddie could do with them. Drawing on paper is a much more different experience than skin. Mistakes can be erased on paper, the sketch done over again. Can’t do the same on flesh. 

  It’s intimidating. 

  They’d have to start off slow, like he had. Trained under a watchful eye, an expert who’d guide them with experienced hands. He was sure Jonathan and Robin would be eager to have an apprentice.

  But before Eddie would even begin to entertain the idea of an apprentice in his shop, he’d have to see exactly what it was he was working with.

  “Leave a number?” He asked without looking at Argyle because he knew he’d see nothing but a smug expression.

  “Yup.”

  “See if you can get him back in the shop tomorrow.”

  “Why not today?”

  “Because I have a session for the rest of the day, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah! I forgot.” Argyle’s grin was sheepish as he read off the calendar. “Stacy Peterson called. Car troubles. Unable to make it to appointment with Eddie. Rescheduled. Heh. So…you also missed that.”

  “I’ll strangle you later, just get him in here then.”

  Argyle opened his mouth, then closed it as an expression that said I know something you don’t crossed his strong features. “Righty-O, boss. I’ll give him a call.”

  You’d been lounging in the bathtub, hair up and out of the way, eyeing the grooves of the shower tile. They were a permanent taunt, stained dark no matter how hard you and Sid scrubbed and you hated the sight of them. 

  People with money didn't have to stare at them, able to afford to have them professionally cleaned or the shower wall—the entire bathroom renovated.

  Someday, that would be you. 

  You sunk further into the water, toeing at the faucet when the shrill sound of the landline filled your more than humble home. The thought of simply letting it ring played in your head until you remembered the tattoo shop you’d visited last. 

  Hastily rising from the tub, water was splashed along the floor while you did a terrible job of drying off and ran naked the rest of the way to the living room, almost slipping as you did.

  The receiver was yanked off its post, “Hello?”

  “What’s up, Dudette? Argyle calling, dunno if you remember me from earlier…”

  “Yeah! From the tattoo shop, right?”

  “Right-O! Listen, The Dungeon Master is in and he wants to see if you can get down here to show him what you got. Possible?”

  “Yeah, it’ll be no problem!” You’d have to run most of the way but street traffic around this time wasn’t that bad so you wouldn’t have to fight your way through bodies.

  “Cool, cool, cool. And between you and me, this is pretty much the interview process. Good luck, dudette, and may the force be with your tattie skills. I’ll see you when you get here!”

  As soon as you’d hung up, you ran to your room to get dressed. You didn’t have much of a wardrobe, but it wasn’t high on your list of priorities considering you and Sid practically shared one. Another tank top was selected—to mitigate sweating on your way to your interview—along with a gifted pink thong and matching bra. You’d snagged your Daisy Dukes from the floor on your way out, shimmied them on, grabbed your small bag and keys and headed out.

  The selection of attire was a good one, the heat was still stupidly unbearable and heavy. You’d need to wash off again tonight. You’d managed to make it to the shop in under twenty-five minutes, having ignored all the looks you’d received as you hurried along the streets and the feeling of the air conditioner on your skin was a welcome one when you made your way back into the shop.

  Argyle greeted you with a bright grin from his place behind the counter, throwing up his hands, “You made it! One sec.”

  Then he turned his upper body to call into an area you couldn’t quite see into, “Oh, Eddie boy! Your prospect has arrived.”

  You hadn’t cared to entertain ideas on what your potential boss could look like, all you were concerned about was the position and getting your foot in the door. Even if you had tried to imagine him, nothing could have prepared you for the actual sight of him when he emerged.

  He was big, tall and cloaked in black, despite the heat of the city. He wore what you figured had once been a black t-shirt but was now lacking sleeves and a proper neck hem to be considered a makeshift tank. His pants were shiny leather and also tight, hugging the muscles of his thighs, and he sported a dark pair of pointed boots.

  He wasn’t particularly muscular enough to be the body builder type, but it looked like he could probably pick another grown man up with ease. His skin had a light tan to it, barely anything really, just like everyone else, he obviously couldn’t escape the sun. It was littered with intricate tattoos, weaving up his arms—a few you could tell disappeared under his shirt—and his neck.

  The word freak was permanently etched in black ink along his temple and over his eyebrow. Two silver balls decorated his other eyebrow.

  Leaning up against the back wall like that, arms crossed to make the muscles of his arms bulge slightly and oozing confidence, he looked like the personification of some really good sex.

  But he wasn’t what you were seeking out and you didn’t like to mix business with pleasure.

  Eddie was caught completely off guard, trying to school his shock and keep his composure.

  When he’d seen that portfolio, he was expecting someone with jagged edges, piercings galore and more than just a couple of tattoos to be behind it and standing in the entryway of his shop.

  Someone who looked like their art.

  You…didn’t. With your little pink cowboy boots, tank top that accentuated your figure and shorts so small, they should’ve been considered a form of underwear, you didn’t look at all similar to what Eddie was expecting. Not even if he closed his eyes.

  You didn’t waste time, quickly introducing yourself as you stepped up to the front desk and Eddie pulled himself from his stupor, closing the distance to shake your palm. Smaller than his (though most were) and slightly sweaty, no doubt due to that god forsaken heat outside.

  Eddie could see bits of your hair sticking to your skin, little beads of sweat prickling over your exposed collarbone and trailing down, down between your─

  “Thank you for taking the time to even look at my portfolio! I really appreciate it.”

  Eddie blinked hard, clearing his throat before smirking to pretend he hadn’t been drawn in by your chest.

  What the fuck was wrong with him all of a sudden? 

  He’d had plenty of beautiful clients, he’d tattooed nice asses, tits, pubic regions, thighs, all the beautiful areas. Now all of a sudden he was acting like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. 

  Hell, Eddie had been thoroughly busy with a pair, held them in his hands before he came into the shop.

  Professionalism, he reminded himself.

  “Not a problem, what I see—saw was pretty impressive,” Nice save, Eddie, you dick. He cursed himself, “You adapt well to different styles.”

  “Thanks!” You chirped, excitement filling you at the praise. It was so nice to hear positive feedback about your work instead of being sent out of a shop before they so much as opened your binder. “I like to experiment with different styles, see what it is that people like so much about them and honestly, it’s mostly because I haven’t quite found my art style just yet.”

  Hence your range, you were constantly expanding with your art because you hadn’t found one style you wanted to make yours yet. Or maybe you had and just didn’t know it yet. Whatever.

  Eddie and Argyle exchanged a look before he stepped back and nodded in the direction he came, “Why don’t you follow me? Show me what you can do?”

  You didn’t hesitate, stepping past the front desk.

  There was more artwork lining the short hall he took you down until you arrived at another room, obviously one meant for actual tattooing as there was a tattoo chair in the middle of the room. 

  On one of the counters, was an area already prepped for you. A tattoo gun, some ink, and some obviously fake skin that rested on top of a disposable sheet cloth, along with some gloves.

  “Argyle tells me you haven’t worked on skin before.”

  Sure you haven’t.

  “Not a whole lot of people lining up to get tattooed by someone with no experience,” you shrugged, following him over to the counter he was leaning up against.

  “You’re hanging around the wrong crowd then.” He joked and you let out a small laugh.

  He had no idea how right he was.

  “The first tattoos I ever got were from inexperienced people. This one,” he gestured to a Wyvern on the back of his arm, “I got my junior year of high school from a waitress at a bar I always snuck into.”

  “And this one,” he yanked the tattered collar of his shirt down to expose more ink, but the one he was referring to was a spider, “I got my first senior year from someone I did…business with.”

  First senior year? Eddie was proving to be an interesting character.

  “But enough about me,” Eddie released his shirt, allowing it to hide the artwork depicted on his chest, “let’s get down to business.”

  Before he could even explain what everything was, you dropped your purse onto the counter nearby, pulling a small box of unopened gloves from it.

  “You mind?” You asked, fingers poised to rip it open.

  “Go for it,” He shrugged. Gloves were gloves, so long as they were uncontaminated he didn’t mind.

  You tore into them and Eddie was still somehow surprised to see they were pink. Clearly his black ones weren’t your style.

  “Can I ask you a question?” You asked as you pulled the gloves on. Eddie watched you, intrigued as you finished assembling the tattoo gun without his help and opened the ink pack. 

  “Sure,” He mused, eyeing you skeptically. Hadn’t tattooed anyone but you were clearly familiar with it. Interesting.

  “Did your tattoos hurt?”

  Eddie waited until after you’d started the tattoo gun and got into working on the fake flesh. Apparently you already had an idea in mind.

  “A bit of an amateur question, you don’t have one?”

  “Nope.” You confirmed, paying him no mind as you leaned forward, gaze focused solely on your task, “I kind of want one but I’m not in any particular rush, you know?”

  Eddie made a sound of agreement, at a brief loss of words as you arched your back, ass sticking out and he became painfully aware you were wearing a hot pink thong, the tails of it peaking out past the top of your denim shorts. He should’ve offered you a seat but you didn’t seem all that bothered with standing.

  No, that was apparently his foil, because he was incredibly bothered by you standing, especially with your ass out like that; when it made his pants tighten considerably in his crotch region.

  He was getting hard. 

  Eddie was mortified, stiffening (go figure) as he attempted to calm himself, eyes darting away from your ass to stare at one of the cabinets. Of course this had to happen to him on the day he chose to wear a pair of pants that left little to the imagination should the boy downstairs start acting up.

  Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.

  “Hurts, depending on the area, which I’m sure you already know. The tattoos on my back and my thighs hurt pretty bad. Forearms were a bitch, but nothing I couldn’t handle. The ones on my wrists and hands were the worst, pain wise, in my opinion. Obviously it didn't stop me, but those tend to be areas with a lot of bones, veins and very little muscle, so it’s expected.”

  You hummed in response and his gaze briefly flittered over to you before his cock pulsed and he tore it away again, grateful your attention wasn’t on him.

  The remainder of the ‘session’ was spent in relative silence with the music playing through the speakers installed throughout the shop, keeping it from being awkward. Eddie had just managed to will his erection away when you finished, setting down the gun before you pulled your gloves off.

  “What do you think?” You asked, still admiring your work and Eddie peered around you to assess it.

  A wyvern, similar to the one on his arm but done in a fine line style.

  He chuckled, amused with your reference and you fought valiantly with yourself not to grin. You were trying to impress him, sticking with a subject he liked enough to make it a part of him permanently, but you hadn’t imitated the style of it to keep from downright copying and to showcase your ability to adapt.

  “That’s pretty good,” And it was, not a whole lot of people could get lines that perfect or seem as confident in their abilities on their first try. Still, Eddie could tell you’d have some ways to go before you were ready to be on your own, “but you can do better.”

  You tried not to frown, “Oh.”

  Eddie smirked and you finally turned to face him, apprehension on your face.

  “Don’t look so down. After some time around here, watching us work, you’ll be ready. The apprenticeship will fly by in no time.”

  “Wait—you mean—you want me?!”

  “I’d be stupid not to.”

  You let out a squeal and threw yourself at him, giving him a quick squeeze before your brain caught up to your body and you pulled away.

  “Sorry, sorry! I’m just so excited.”

  Eddie cleared his throat, shifting his body away from you and rasped out, “Argyle will have the paperwork for you to fill out.”

  “Got it,” You grabbed your bag and was just about to head out of the room when Eddie called your name, “Huh?”

  “Be back at the same time tomorrow. You’ll be practicing on real skin.” 

  “But I thought you said—” 

  “Me.”

  Something in you bubbled with excitement and nerves.

  You nodded once and then left the room to see Argyle for your paperwork.

  “So?????” Argyle asked once you’d approached him, a sullen look on your face. 

  You couldn’t keep the act up, beaming as you practically bounced, “I’ll be seeing you around more often now!” 

  He whooped, extending an arm out for a high-five which you reciprocated.

  “You are gonna love it here, Dudette. Just wait until you meet everyone! First, we gotta start on your employment.” 

  Your brows furrowed as you watched him go through a filing cabinet.

  “Wait—this is paid?”

  “Yeah! We’re not big on slave labor here.”

  Score for you! You had a feeling you wouldn’t be clocking a ton of hours but every single penny counted, especially considering how hard of a time you had actually building a savings account.

  Argyle had walked you through the paperwork, where to sign, what things meant and since the shop was getting ready to close up you’d simply just bring the completed paperwork back with you tomorrow.

  The door chimed behind you and you turned to see who could be coming in at the last minute, eyes widening at the voluptuous woman before you. Her hair was long and jet black, skin pale (apparently one person in this city was capable of defying the sun) and make-up done so elegantly it reminded you of actresses from the silver screen era. Her dress was simple, black and hugged her curves exceptionally well. You could tell it was worth more than everything in your apartment combined and you’d feel bad about it if you also couldn’t tell she was older than you. 

  You’d have time to get there.

  “Hey, Deidre.”

  “Hello, Argyle.” She gave the both of you a dazzling smile as she removed her sunglasses and walked right past Argyle, down the hall you’d come from.

  He didn’t even look surprised and paid her no real attention.

  “We’ll see you soon?”

  “Damn straight.”

  Argyle let out another cheer as you walked out the door with high spirits. Not even the nasty, hot air could get you down.

  You’d climbed up the stone steps until you reached the sidewalk and glanced behind you at the neon sign depicting the name of the tattoo shop you’d now be working at.

  “Welcome to The Dungeon,” You mumbled to yourself with a smile. 

  You turned back to the sidewalk, staring down at the pathway you’d have to take before you thought better of it, sticking your fingers into your mouth to give a sharp whistle.

  It caught the attention of a cab driver down the street, and you gave him your address when he’d pulled up and you’d hopped in, ready to prepare for tonight's plans. You deserved a little break, after all, you were one step closer to securing the future of your dreams.

  Eddie sagged against the counter once you’d left the room, scowling down at the bulge that had reappeared in his pants when you’d hugged him.

  Why his body was suddenly acting like he was a horny teenager again, he had no idea.

  He wasn’t about to do anything about it, though. Not when you’d be hanging around the shop for the foreseeable future. Eddie didn’t get involved with his employees. He’d worked in a couple of shops where he’d witnessed that occur and it always ended in a mess. Not a good kind.

  He busied himself with cleaning up, tossing away the supplies you’d used and storing your first piece of work. It’d be nice for you to look back at once your apprenticeship was over. When Eddie had nothing else to clean, he sighed and rubbed at his eyelids. 

  Platonic. Professional. God, if he couldn’t keep his dick in check, he’d be in a world of trouble. You’d be trouble.

  “Need a hand?”

  Eddie snapped around, relieved to see it was just Deidre. Explaining why he had a boner to anyone else wasn’t something he was keen on doing. In fact, he probably wouldn’t be telling her exactly why, either.

  Taking her up on her offer, however, was something he would eagerly do.

  “Are you offering yours?”

  She laughed, setting her purse down on the counter where your bag had been just a few minutes ago, and walked right up to Eddie, her body pressed against his and grinding onto him as the older woman slid her arms around his shoulders.

  “Mmm, not just my hand.”

  All Eddie knew next was the taste of her red lipstick. 

[otakusheep15]

Flufftober Day 14 - Pets

Content includes: Vil x reader, established relationship, reader is referred to as Sweet Potato Vil and reader live together (implied aged up), most likely incorrect understanding of how pet stores work

“No, Sweet Potato, we cannot.”

You pout at Vil’s denial, crossing your arms and looking away to show how upset you are. He sighs, a mixture of annoyance and affection, crossing his own arms as he looks at you. 

“Fine, we can go look, but that’s it. Can that be a compromise?” He continues to look at you, smiling when he sees you uncross your arms and agree to his terms. 

A decision made, the two of you walk into the pet shop, and you make an immediate beeline to the nearest animals. Vil follows behind, slower and less enthusiastic, but still happy upon seeing how excited you are. 

The first animals you come across are various rodents in little enclosures. Gerbils, hamsters, and guinea pigs all catch your eye, and you’re immediately enthralled at how cute they are. 

Vil catches up to you after a few seconds, but he’s not having nearly as much fun as you are. He’s never been one for rodents, even cute ones like these. He keeps a bit of a distance as you continue to watch the cute creatures, giving you time to enjoy them. 

Once you’ve gotten a good look at all of them, you bolt off again, leaving Vil to follow once more. Next on your adventure are all of the colorful fish towards the back. You’re particularly captivated by some of the more exotic-looking fish, watching them swim peacefully in their tanks. 

Once again, Vil stands a bit off to the side, this time just wanting to give you space to roam as you look into all of the tanks. He smiles at how interested you seem to be in these fish, finding your wonder absolutely adorable. 

After you’re finished, your last stop is the one you’ve been most looking forward to: the cats. This time, instead of going by yourself, you grab Vil’s hand, pulling him along with you. 

He lets you guide him, already knowing where you’re going. When you reach the cats, he already has a knowing look on his face. 

“Remember, only looking. Nothing else.”

Despite his words, he does actually join you in looking at the cats instead of just standing to the side. You know Vil has always been a cat person, even if he refuses to admit it to you. 

For the longest time, Vil has refused to let you adopt a pet. He says they’re too high maintenance and messy, plus neither of you exactly have the time with how busy you are. 

Your hope today was to convince him to adopt a cat with you. Seeing the other animals was a nice bonus for sure, but your true intent is that he’ll see how cute the cats are and finally agree to adopt. If not today, you can at least get the idea implanted in his head. 

As you look at all of the cats, you also keep a close eye on Vil’s expression, looking for any little cracks you can exploit. He’s good at keeping his mask up, especially in public, but you’ve gotten just as good at reading him despite that. 

The cats are all sitting in individual kennels, all customized with different toys, beds, and food and water bowls. Presumably, all of these customizations reflect the personalities of the different cats. Some of them have more toys, and based on the look of them, almost all of them are kittens. 

You’re particularly drawn to one cat. It sits on its bed, watching people roam around the store. It seems to notice you looking at it, and it immediately turns to look back at you. This cat reminds you of something, but you can’t quite remember what. 

It’s a beautiful cat. Its fur is a light orange, making it look almost blonde, and its eyes are a dark, almost purple-ish gray. You can’t help but admire just how beautiful this cat is, and then it hits you. 

You turn to Vil, taking a good look at his features. Then you turn back to the cat. You do that a couple of times before coming to a conclusion. Excitedly, you tell Vil that the cat looks just like him. 

“What? That’s ridiculous. Cats can’t look like people, Sweet Potato.” He smiles at you before looking at the cat you pointed out. His smile fades immediately, replaced with a more curious look. 

“On second thought, I suppose you do have a point…” He continues examining the cat. At the attention. The cat saunters up to the glass, staring directly at Vil. It sits right in front of him and meows. 

Cautiously, you approach Vil, leaning against him as you give him your best puppy eyes. You don’t even have to speak for him to know exactly what you want. 

“I already told you, we don’t have the time for pets, even a low maintenance one. Sweet Potato, I know how much you want one, but I just-”

The cat lets out another meow, this one a bit louder. It places one of its paws against the glass, as if reaching out to Vil. 

And, as much as he’d like to, not even Vil can resist the power of you and a cute cat. He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose between two fingers. 

“I better not regret this…” he mumbles quietly to himself, but you hear him loud and clear. You have to hold yourself back from laughing.

“Fine, we can adopt the cat.” Despite his clear exasperation, you can see a small smile form on his face, and you know that you won this round. 

After a little while of talking to an employee and filling out paperwork, you have your cat. You find out it's a girl and her name is Violet. Vil seemed to approve of that name, so the two of you decided not to change it. 

On the way home, Violet rests in her crate. Since you were at the pet store, Vil insisted that you also had to buy her a new bed, toys, and treats, so all of that is in the backseat as well. 

For as much as he didn’t want a pet, he sure seemed the most willing to spoil the thing. Not that you expected anything less from him, of course.

[starlostastronaut]

─ MCTC VOL 2 | MASTERLIST

PAIRING - stray kids x reader feat. a secret guest appearance

GENRE - various, each one shot specified below

WORD COUNT - ?? total

CONTENT WARNINGS - poly pairings in some one shots, suggestive/sexual content, each one shot will be more specified in its post

TAGLIST - comment or send ask to be added (if you're on permanent taglist, you're automatically added - you can check here)

LINKS - main masterlist ~ series playlist

AUTHOR'S NOTE - hiii! welcome to the 2024 advent calendar! if you're new here, mctc stands for moony's countdown to christmas, a series i did last year and because i'm unoriginal we are reusing that title lol. enjoy reading <3

important: order of one shots isn't necessarily posting order. these are a work in progress still, therefore more information will be added as i post them. and i already said it in a different post, but it's exams time in uni and it's a lot. i can't promise all one shots will be posted before christmas, but i will finish them eventually

01 / BED OF ROSES

⤷ idol!chan x reader ; angst, highschool sweethearts, estranged relationship, workaholic chan, happy ending

⤷ chan was the perfect boyfriend, everything you could have wanted. until his work consumed him

02 / ENGLISH LOVE AFFAIR

⤷ idol!minho x backup dancer!reader ; one night stand, exes to lovers

⤷ it was supposed to be just a fling, to release some of that tour stress. but minho didn't account on falling in love

03 / SUPPOSED TO BE

⤷ werewolf!changbin x shadowhunter!reader ; shadowhunters au, victorian era, enemies to lovers

⤷ when you find an illegal werewolf club, it's your duty to shut it down. but what you didn't expect to find was an ally

04 / DREAM STATE

⤷ demon!hyunjin x witch!reader ; magic au

⤷ in your demonology class, you learned about summoning. and it wouldn't be you if you didn't try those skills right away

05 / SKIP THE SMALL TALK

⤷ singer!jisung x barista!reader ; coffee shop au

⤷ per your manager's briliant idea, your coffee shop now has live music. featuring a cute singer and friends who can't stay out of his bussiness

06 / BUTTERFLIES

⤷ idol!felix x actress!reader ; strangers to lovers, meet-cute

⤷ you loved fashion shows, seeing the creative clothes designers spent hours to perfect. what you didn't love were the after parties, until he came along

07 / DANGEROUS GAME

⤷ faerie king!seungmin x half mortal!reader ; cruel prince au, fantasy au, forbidden romance

⤷ scandals, lovers... it's all fun and games to the faerie king. until it comes to his royal advisor

08 / MORNING SUN

⤷ grounder!jeongin x delinquent!reader ; the 100 au, apocalypse au, enemies to lovers, forced proximity

⤷ there wasn't supposed to be life on earth and yet there they were. creatures trying to kill you. or were they really?

09 / STEAL YOUR HEART

⤷ jeongin x reader x seungmin ; college au, established relationship

⤷ what started a stupid bet between your boyfriends, turned into a competition for boyfriend of the year

10 / MOVES LIKE JAGGER

⤷ jock!chan x reader x nerd!hongjoong ; college au, idiots to lovers, friends to lovers

⤷ falling for your best friend was a big deal on its own. and when the popular guy decides to meddle, it's about to become a problem

© starlostastronaut 2024 | do not repost/translate my work without permission

[halloweenacara]

all my beasts! my main account is totally full now rip. names & info under the cut

aske - halloween acara, he/they - horror artist & author, kinda the main character. he writes a horror-comedy comic, but his most famous work is a series of intense horror novels published under a pseudonym. he's secretly a huge scaredy-cat & has become very fond of a certain zafara.

flora - mutant aisha, she/her - baker & activist. she runs a little bakery in the haunted woods that only employs other mutants. she's sweet as sugar, but you don't want to be on her bad side. not afraid of anything- in fact, she has a sweet spot for the scariest resident, alder.

fossil - tyrannian elephante, he/him - anthropologist, museum curator, technically undead. he was found in a glacier on the border between tyrannia and terror mountain & revived. now, he has a special interest in tyrannian history, spending more time in the field than behind a desk. he will talk your ear off.

kilroy - steampunk zafara, he/him - a knight from the golden era of meridell- sort of. he was brought to life via a wayward spell from mac, pulling him from the pages of a book of old meridellian tales. he's a little lost, but taking it in stride- besides, he has a cute lil acara to help him out.

pup - toy poogle, they/she - midi musician, streamer, sapient robot. they speak almost exclusively in internet memes and audio clips. she has a vast collection of expression stickers, one for every mood. recently, they've been visiting veknir's workshop every night…

mu - burlap kau, he/they - fiber artist, gardener, ex-scarecrow. he used to live in a farm north of the haunted woods, then took himself off his stick and ran away. he sewed his legs himself, as he didn't have any originally, and has to fix them often. makes a lot of crochet plushies and blankets- stark contrast to the manor's otherwise spooky vibe.

alder - shadow skeith, she/her - groundskeeper. an intense individual, to say the least. she's been with the manor longer than anyone can recall. she mostly keeps to herself- she lives in a small cabin on the edge of the courtyard. she spends her time meticulously cleaning the tombstones, or lurking in the yard in the midst of heavy rain. aske is terrified of her.

rory - chocolate/halloween bori, he/it - some variety of candy-based creature. he only joined the group recently- previously he was known as the thing that howls and roars just past the fence line. he smells like candy corn and hot cocoa- apart from the bones, of course. those smell like death.

maxie - ghost cybunny, she/her - tour guide/scam artist. she offers tours of the manor, even installing a little gift shop in the foyer. most of the 'haunted features' on the tour are fake. even if the others wanted her to leave (frankly, she's a rude, self-serving conwoman), she couldn't- she died in the manor. every time someone asks how she died she gives them a different story.

veknir - speckled grundo, he/him - alien, scientist, engineer. he keeps the manor running- repairing old appliances, fixing broken railing. of course, he did blow up the microwave trying to improve it. he crash-landed in the courtyard while fleeing someone and set up a workshop/lab in the basement. who knows what he gets up to down there? do we want to know?

cake - snot chomby, it/its - slime monster. one of veknir's experiments gone awry- well, it made a new creature, but cake's a rebel. it chose its name after coming to life and immediately raiding vek's lab minifridge. it has a massive sweet tooth- flora is its best friend- and takes its sick axe guitar everywhere (it can't play it)

remy - halloween xweetok, he/they/she - the owner of the october house. the oldest resident (besides kilroy, technically?) and also the hottest (according to remy). if he's not ominously swirling a glass of something red in the study, he's at some club doing drag.

diaveli - halloween ixi, she/they/it - some variety of horrid clown thing. her entire existence is dedicated to tormenting aske and causing problems.

chimaera - lab rat, they/them - they have chronic health issues, but visiting the lab ray and changing their body calms their aches. it also leaves them ravenously hungry and pays fairly well. they also "work" at maxie's gift shop. they sometimes play on pup's streams as a guest.

mac - mutant lenny, he/him - wizard. he spends all his time hidden away in his tower, practicing spells or mixing potions. his hermit-like tendencies are partly because he needs privacy for his evil machinations and party due to crippling social anxiety.

croaksby - candy quiggle, he/him - butler, janitor, etc. a long-suffering servant, croaksby has worked for remy for a long, long time. he does actually enjoy his work- if he gets frustrated with a resident, he can always add a touch of poison to their nightly tea/coffee/borovan- not enough to kill them, of course...

[beomanamilk]

thinking abt a soulmate au with gyu where you constantly have dreams about your future; whether it be simple day-to-day activities you were to partake in, or some bigger, possibly unexpected moments that could change your life for better or for worse.

the worst part of these dreams is the unknown figure that constantly appears in them. in every single dream you have, the figure is there with you, turning the once peaceful dreams into frightening nightmares, its blurred face haunting your sleep until you find it in you to wake up.

it isn’t scary by any means, not until you feel your eyes starting to open, and just milliseconds before the darkness flees, the face of the evocative silhouette appears, revealing itself.

the creatures face is deformed, it adorns a lopsided smile and sharp eyes that seem to drop your heart to your stomach every time the image appears in your head.

you find yourself asleep in another dream of your future, one of which you seem to be in a local music store, scanning through rows of guitars on display.

you pay no mind to the boy who is sitting on a bench nearby, playing around with a guitar he hopes of purchasing, and continue to stroll along the halls yourself.

the dream seems quiet.

of course, you happen to lose your balance. from what? you can’t say you know.

you trip face down onto the floor in front of the bench, in front of the poor boy who had just been looking for guitars and ended up with a stranger fallen at his feet.

“oh shit! are- are you okay?!” you can hear shuffling from above and turn your head up towards the boy, feeling your stomach twist into dreadful knots when you do so.

you cannot see the boys face. while everything else in the room is clear as day, every feature of his is hidden, he is blurred. it feels as if you’ve gone completely blind in the one space of your eye that the boys head seems to take up.

you reply simply, “i’m good.”

there is only one goal you have now, and that is to get away from the man before he turns into a creepy monster and jump-scares you away from your much needed 7 hours.

though before you can stop yourself, the boy’s hand is on your shoulder and turning you to face him, startling you out of sleep.

you spend the next couple hours before your alarm goes off staring at the ceiling, unable to get the man’s sinister face out of your mind.

-

when you find yourself at the same music store from your dream about a week later, you can’t say you’re not nervous.

the boy had managed to alter your view of the precious shop completely, causing an unexpected fear of said place.

thankfully, it’s a tuesday morning, meaning the chances of many people inside are very low, but you still have your doubts.

when you push open the doors and walk through with as much courage as possible, your heart practically stops at the sight of a man with long black hair sitting in the same spot as your dream with the same acoustic guitar.

you gulp, taking another step forward, reminding yourself that it was just a dream, and you really need to get a new guitar after yeonjun drunkenly stomped all over your previous one.

your steps become weary as you near the boy, praying that you can just keep yourself standing upwards and not end up with your face flat on the ground.

though when you feel something nudge the tip of your toe, you know it’s over.

accepting what fate has unfairly planned for you, you let yourself fall forward, landing on your stomach with a grunt at the man’s feet.

“oh shit! are- are you okay?!” he repeats his words from your dream, and you almost cry from both fear and humiliation.

though when you look up, expecting to be met with a blank face, you’re instead met with a shockingly good-looking guy.

“i- i’m fine, actually.” you mutter, taking in the look of genuine concern on the boy’s pretty face, his eyebrows turned downwards and his plump bottom lip turned over his top one in a frown.

his eyes sparkle as he looks down at you with some stray hairs falling over his face, reaching a hand downwards, offering to help you up from your place on the floor.

you grab it with a short “thank you” and tug yourself upward, slightly startled at the comforting warmth his hand brings you.

the male nods at you before you turn away, hoping to continue your hunt for a new guitar.

though before you can get too far, the same hand from your dream is placed on your shoulder, but this time it doesn’t harshly turn you around, it instead stays there, a soft yet warm grip that seems to make you as dizzy as if he were to spin you around.

“uh, sorry. i just wanted to ask for your name. you’re really-“ he pauses with a gulp, “you’re really pretty.”

you feel your heart flutter and want to sigh out of frustration. this can’t be the same boy from your creepy dreams.

when you turn to him, he’s smiling softly at you, and you think it could be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“i’m beomgyu, by the way.”

[sitp-recs]

Part II: table for two

Following my list featuring the sea (now with a lil banner cause I’m getting in the reccing zone again baby!!!!), I thought I’d make this a series called “fic as a sensory delight” and continue the trend with good old Drarry domesticity walking hand in hand with some food porn appreciation. Who knew that Drarry living their best life while enjoying tasty treats could be so personal? These fics feel like a comfort meal when life gets too crazy and provide a delicious sensory experience. From cottagecore to road trips, found family, case fic, established relationship and even kinky delights - this list has a bit of everything and features food as a main character either bringing Drarry together, healing past traumas, helping them connect with their heritage or simply playing as a love language. I hope these fics bring you as much comfort, joy and healing as they brought me. Happy weekend!

🥘 Breakfast by @moonflower-rose (E, 3k)

Breakfast is Harry's favorite part of the day.

🥘 Market Saturdays by @sorrybutblog (M, 3k)

In which Harry is an accidental part-time cheesemonger, Draco is an organic farmer and they fall in love. Not an AU.

🥘 Salt and Sauce by onbeinganangel (T, 3k)

Sure, of course he knows how you take your tea. But does he know your chippy order?

🥘 Cupboard Love by @shealwaysreads (G, 4k)

Harry’s life, and love, in food.

🥘 Don't Bite the Hand That Feeds You by InnerLilith (E, 11k)

In which Harry takes Draco out for Eritrean food, and Draco has a severe obsession with Harry’s hands. Smut ensues.

🥘 Harry Potter and the Showstopper of Doom by @doubleappled (M, 11k)

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“Hello, Harry,” Draco said. He was wearing a black turtleneck under a long grey overcoat, and he was already flushed with sweat. His hair was tied into a knot; it was longer than I remembered. He was older than I remembered. There were lines around his eyes, and I wondered if they were from laughing or frowning. “Hello,” I managed. “You must be with the British Ministry?’ He nodded. I thought I might faint.

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Harry and Draco are on a trip to Budapest to help with Kingsley's re-election, but that's the boring bit. More interesting: Harry Potter is changing his Tinder preferences to include men. Also interesting: Harry's spending more time with Draco Malfoy than he ever has, wandering around the city. And Harry doesn't hate it. The city's pretty gorgeous too.

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[muffymello]

Handsy

(Buggy the Clown x f!Reader)

A small-town shopkeep makes the biggest mistake of her life by capturing a weird-ass spider.

1.8k Words

Working in such a tiny shop had plenty of issues. Cramped spaces, not enough room for stock, no escape from whiny customers…

But, there were also upsides. Mainly that cleaning was easy, but today being able to spot a huge spider on one shelf with ease made it a lot easier to pick up an old shoebox to capture it in. You didn’t get a good look before snagging it, just shutting the box tight and sitting on it immediately. It was a good thing too, from the way it slammed against the box aggressively it would have had a chance of escaping if you hadn’t done so.

A few layers of tape and air holes in the box made your life a lot easier, customers and coworkers alike praising you for your bravery. You didn’t love bugs, but didn’t harbor the strong fears of many others towards the creepy crawlies common to your town. The coworker who had spotted it initially and screeched for your help was especially grateful, wishing you thanks and avoiding the box as you put it behind the register.

This wasn’t the only big event of the day, as you were in for a surprise when a tall, broad man in a colorful costume burst into the store. He seemed slightly frantic, one arm hidden beneath his cape as he waved the other wildly. He was eye-catching not only because of his height and loudness, but the clown makeup and neon blue hair he had. The pirate hat on his head alerted you to the possible danger of this man, and you gripped the dagger next to the register tightly just in case as you ushered your coworker into the back room.

“Excuse me there, doll,” The strange intruder sneered, making you wince a bit at the nickname. His smile was his best feature, you decided, but the condescending tone falling from his lips didn’t do much to help him. “Have you happened to see… any spare limbs around?” He muttered the last few words, cheeks going even redder than the makeup had set them to be.

“I- uh… not really, no?” You responded, trying to figure out if this was some weird joke. “Spare limbs… what do you really mean by that, sir?” The tone you used was respectful but awfully puzzled, having no clue what was going on. You swore you’d seen the pirate before, but you couldn’t put your finger on even such a recognizable face. He didn’t bother to answer your question, just grunting animatedly before swishing his cape and leaving. You could have sworn you saw a hand missing from his hidden arm, but it must have been a trick of light as his colorful apparel was almost painful to look at for too long.

Murmurs were shared amongst customers after he stormed out the front door, the name Buggy the Clown being tossed around continuously. As your coworker emerged, eyes wide, she looked quickly to the box now tucked neatly under the counter. You had planned to walk into the forest in the evening to set the creature free, but with the way she was looking at the box now you were worried for what she was about to say.

“Hey, um… did you happen to get a good look at the spider earlier?” She questioned, voice barely above a whisper as her face paled. You stepped towards her, ready to catch her in case she fainted. She looked awfully close to doing so, only growing paler at your next words. “Not really, just scooped it up in the box and called it a day. Why?”

“Do you- do you know who that was?” She now stuttered, panicked in every sense of the word. Her fear of spiders must’ve fully left her body in that instant as she grabbed the dagger to rip the tape from the box’s edge, lifting the lid to peer inside. She yelped before almost dropping the box, quickly clutching it to her chest to keep the lid shut as tightly as possible while yelling for you to tape it back up. This little scene didn’t catch much attention from customers, still caught up in their own conversations as the two of you freaked out behind the counter.

Once it was taped and back in its spot, you watched her sink to her knees and shiver. “What, what is it?” You demanded, now worried yourself. What did the spider have to do with the strange pirate, and why had it worked her up so much.

“You didn’t catch a spider at all… we should have been watching closer, oh god-” She babbled on, seemingly lost in her own head before snapping her head up to look you straight in the eye. “That clown has a 15 million berry bounty and is nothing to scoff at- and we just kidnapped his left hand!” She whisper-shouted, not wanting to let any customer hear what had just happened as your face paled to match hers. You realized that his missing hand earlier hadn’t been oyur eyes fooling you, he must have eaten a devil fruit and-

oh god.

“Can he still feel his hand when it’s… detached?” You asked, mortified at the nod you received in response. Neither of you had any clue what to do, but knew that talking or doing anything more while customers were still around was definitely a bad idea. His face in the stack of wanted posters delivered to the shop later that day didn’t do anything to calm either of you down, and your mind went blank trying to come up with a plan.

That’s how you got here now, the left fist of a feared pirate captain stuffed into a backpack slung over your shoulder as you tried to move as inconspicuously as possible towards the forest. Tossing the bag into the woods would leave it easy to find but remove any chance of you being found as the culprit, and heaven knows your weak-hearted coworker wouldn’t be able to do this herself. You used the shadows and dark to your advantage, trying to ignore the loud, annoying tapping of the hand on the box it was trapped in. 

The last few hours had been just tapping, no doubt the pirate trying to track the hand down easier. You sat in an alleyway to gather yourself for a second, catching your breath and preparing to run the final stretch to the woods. As you moved to sit down, the bag fell off of your shoulder and slammed hard into the brick wall. The tapping stopped, and you felt a huge pang of guilt, more than you could really justify for a pirate of his status.

Your heart won out over your mind as you unwrapped the hand’s makeshift box cage, inspecting it for injury. After a few gentle brushes of your hand, you were surprised as the detached appendage began to hold your hand back. There wasn’t any permanent damage, but you patted it gently as an awkward apology for the rough treatment. You decided to just hold the hand for now, wrestling it back into the box when you were so close to the forest would be useless. You sat there for multiple minutes, patting the hand absentmindedly as your heart began to race just a little less, when you finally came up with a bit better of a plan. 

Sitting in the forest alone was dangerous for a lonely hand, and you were going to return it to the pirate yourself. He should be grateful, maybe even give you a reward, and he would have no way of proving you didn’t find the hand now and choose to return it immediately.

The ship was anything but subtle, docked not in the main harbor but off to the side with flashy lights and colors. You shoved your hand into your pocket along with Buggy’s, trying to communicate to him with two quick squeezes even if you didn’t really know what it is you were trying to say. You marveled at the ship before you, the circus tent mounted on the top was unlike anything you’d ever seen before in this small town. It was extremely out of the ordinary for you to encounter pirates or even explore at night at all.

It made the majesty of the ship all the more striking, having to force your shaky legs to keep moving as your nerves increased. Your head yelled to turn back as your heart only thought of the warm, gentle caress of the hand holding yours in your pocket. It never gripped painfully, but it was a tight, almost pleading grip. You could feel a slight shake in the hand, your heart ruling that you’d make sure it found it’s way back to its owner without any issue.

Immediately upon boarding the ship you were halted, oddball pirates inspecting you for any signs of danger before threatening you, asking what your business on board their ship was. “I just want to speak to your captain, please.” You said, as calmly as you could muster. The whole ship seemed like a party as of right now, even the pirates surrounding you seemed tipsy and unserious. One led you into the circus tent, where the partying intensified even more. Loud music, booze, acrobatics, showmanship, and a grand throne in the center of it all.

As you tried not to marvel at everything going around on this insane ship, you zeroed in on the throne. Perched on it lazily, one leg thrown carelessly over the arm was the captain himself, Buggy. He looked out of place despite his costume choices, his face mopey and dull. You squeezed his hand in your pocket again without thinking, surprised as you watched his mouth curve into a small smile before he squeezed back. Still, he looked depressed as he displayed his left arm, handless, perched upon his knee with the empty stub of a wrist actively visible.

You hadn’t realized you stopped to stare until one of the circus pirates guiding you gave you a light shove, causing you to stumble your way through the theatrics until you were right in front of the throne. Buggy barely spared you a glance before looking back out to his crew, watching all their performances intently but without a hint of amusement with any of it on his face. When you finally spoke, his eyes returned to you and stayed there, intimidating but not scary.

“Um, sir- captain? Buggy, I mean. I found your, I mean- I saw it and-” You gave up on your stuttering, opting to pull your hand and his out of your pocket to show instead of tell. You gave it one last squeeze as his face lit up with a huge grin, and you couldn’t help the yell that escaped from you as his hand returned to his body, bringing you along with it.

You were now in the lap of a high-bounty pirate aboard his ship as he didn’t seem to want to let go of your hand, too close for comfort as he grinned and chuckled at your startled expression.“Well, well, well, doll. Holding my hand, and I don’t even know your name.”

[hbyrde36]

Chapter 1: Under My Skin

Written for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang

Art (coming soon!) by @glitterfang

Beta'd by @penny00dreadful

Rating: E | WC: 5937 | Chapters: 1/2 | AO3 Link

Not for the first time, Eddie was really regretting his decision to book a client on a Friday night, and a new client at that. 

It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do, exactly. There were no dates on his calendar, and going out to random bars and clubs on the weekends to look for quick hookups had begun losing its appeal lately.

But it’d been a long week, and he’d much rather have been getting ready to plop down on the couch with Chrissy to split a bottle of red wine while they watched Drag Race, than preparing to do a cover up for some idiot who’d gotten his girlfriend’s name tattooed on his body, only to fall victim to—The Curse. 

Ask any tattoo artist and they’d be the first to tell you, there was no surer way to guarantee a breakup than to ink your significant other’s name on your body forever. 

And yeah, it probably wasn’t fair to judge the guy before they’d even met, but there were only two kinds of people who tended to make that particular mistake—dumbasses, and hopeless romantics. He just kind of assumed his client fell into the former camp, rather than the latter.

Eddie had just started wiping down the front desk counter, which doubled as a display case for the various accessories and body jewelry they carried trying to kill some time between his last appointment and cover-up-guy, when Chrissy came walking out of her studio.

It was one of the biggest perks, in his opinion, of owning their own shop. Not only did each of them finally have their own work spaces—no more having to listen to other client conversations or fighting over a single bluetooth speaker—but being their own bosses also meant they could decorate and customize their own studios to their heart’s content. 

The main area of the shop was a bit of a catch-all, much like his and Chrissy’s shared apartment. It featured neutral walls lined with a mishmash of all the things they loved, sprinkled in and amongst odd antiques, knick-knacks, and various pieces of unique artwork. There was everything from vintage vinyl record jackets tacked to the wall, to faux taxidermy mountings of creatures that had never existed in real life. 

Entering Chrissy’s studio was a little like stepping inside a Lisa Frank notebook cover. All vibrant rainbow colors and aggressive animal print. Eddie had painted the walls himself, color matching the exact shade of fuchsia as the adjustable chair he’d custom ordered just for her. He was no interior designer so she’d taken it from there, and though the finished product was a little too bright for his tastes, even he had to admit it was still pretty fucking metal. 

Eddie’s space was the polar opposite, featuring dark stained wood furniture and a style of decor that could be best described as a slightly more grown up version of a teenage boy's bedroom. Band and movie posters lined three of the walls, but instead of being held up with thumbtacks, or scotch tape, they were neatly laid in matching frames with thick black edging. The remaining wall held a gallery of photos. Him and Wayne from their last fishing trip, one from when he and Chrissy had received the keys to the parlor unlocking its doors on the first day that it was theirs, and an old snap of him and his high school bandmates standing in front of their homemade banner, among many others.

It wasn’t until Chrissy came up to lean on the counter with her jacket zipped-up and her purse slung over her shoulder that he realized something was up.

“Don’t forget to lock up when you're done.” She said, tapping her nails on the glass. “Oh! And can you stop and pick up some oat milk on your way home? We’re out.” 

“Wait, where are you going? Didn’t you have a client booked tonight too? I thought we were in this together, Cunningham!”

“Not anymore.” She said cheerfully, leaning across the counter to rest her elbows on the glass, leaving an ink smudge on the exact spot he had just finished cleaning. He swatted at her with the damp rag and she jerked back with a giggling-gasp.

“Mine had to cancel.”

Eddie groaned. “I hate when clients do that.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me. It’s like a free night off I wasn’t expecting.”

“Not exactly free, since canceling means not paying in full.” He grumbled.

“Oh lighten up! It’s not like we’re that behind on bills or anything.”

“Tell that to the electric company.” He said, mostly to tease her, though he couldn't help glancing up at the excessively large and kitschy skull chandelier he’d found on Amazon that definitely didn’t use high efficiency light bulbs, but he had sworn at the time was worth it for The Aesthetic™.

“Why are you always so grumpy?” Chrissy asked, jutting her lip out in a dramatic reenactment of him pouting. 

Not that he was one to pout. 

“I’m not!”

“Look at your face, you're grumpy right now!”

“That's because y- you’re…” He cut himself off with a sigh. 

He couldn't begrudge her the time off, he’d be hightailing it out of there just the same if it had been him. 

“Just get out of here.” He said, conceding defeat.

She beamed. “Okay! See you later!” She said, all but sprinting to the front doors. “Don’t forget about the milk!”

“Wait, why can’t you–” He started to ask, but she was on the other side of the door before he could get the words out.

“Oh forget it.” He mumbled, stashing the glass cleaner away where it belonged. 

About fifteen minutes later the bell above the door chimed, signaling the arrival of what Eddie assumed to be his last customer of the day. 

Except, it couldn't be.

It couldn’t possibly be because the Adonis that had just entered his humble tattoo parlor was, quite frankly, bonkers hot. There was no way, absolutely no way someone had this guy—this guy—so obsessed with them that he went and got their name tattooed on his perfect body and then just… let him go. 

It was unthinkable.

“Hi, you must be Eddie. I recognized you from your Instagram.” Pretty-boy said with a shy smile.

“Steve?” Eddie asked, blinking hard, completely unable to mask the tone of disbelief.

The other man nodded.

Shit, okay.

So this was him—Steeeeeeve Harrington. This was the guy. 

Maybe there was something wrong with him? There had to be a catch, a series of very red flags or something because all Eddie could think about at that moment was, if he ever got a chance with Steve? He’d never let him go. 

Get it together, Munson!

The bright side, of a sort, was that Steve smacked of straight guy energy, so it was unlikely Eddie would even be in the running for a chance anyway. Better to just put it out of his mind.

Though, he supposed he could still… look. It's not like looking ever hurt anyone. Not that he made a habit out of ogling the clientele. Of course, none of his other customers had ever come in wearing vintage Levi’s that fit their ass like a glove, not to mention the way they fit around his–

“Eddie?”

Fuck. 

Had Steve been talking this whole time while he’d been off daydreaming about what those sinfully tight jeans might look like on his bedroom floor?

“Yeah.” A soft chuckle fell from Eddie’s lips as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “S- sorry, man. Spaced out for a second there I guess.” 

What the fuck was wrong with him today?!

“It’s okay. I was just asking if the plan was still the same? In your last email you suggested we should do this over two appointments.”

Work question… yes, good. Focus on the job! 

“Right. With what we talked about I'd like to concentrate on just the outline today, maybe a little shading, and then in six weeks or so once that’s healed have you come back for the color. If you’re still alright with that?”

Eddie could do the whole thing in one shot if Steve really wanted to sit that long, but with something like this he didn't want to feel rushed. He’d done a few concept sketches after emailing back and forth with Steve about what he was looking for, and honestly what they’d come up with wasn’t really his usual style. He could do it, he was more than capable, but he had to wonder why Steve had picked him, out of all the tattoo artists in the city. He’d seen Eddie’s Instagram, so he knew the kind of work he usually churned out. Hell, Chrissy would have been the more obvious choice for this.

Of course, now that he’d gotten an eye-full of Steve in person he was glad he hadn’t tried to pawn him off on her. He was also really hoping Steve would agree to the split sessions, it would give them an excuse to see each other again.

“Whatever you think is best. I’m putting myself in your expert hands.” Steve said, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks.

That was… interesting. 

Maybe Eddie had been a little bit hasty in his initial straight assessment?

Steve’s deposit had been paid, and they’d already gone over pricing through email so there wasn't much to discuss as far as that was concerned, After signing some paperwork and getting the other man’s ID scanned into the system there was nothing left to do but walk Steve back to his studio and get this show on the road.

“You can go ahead and take your shirt off, get comfortable. I’ll show you the stencil I drew up and if it looks good we can put it on and get started.” Eddie said, gesturing to his client chair.

He leaned over his desk while Steve got situated, taking a second to gather his thoughts, as well as add a small finishing touch to the transfer sketch before turning back to his client. The sight made his throat go dry. 

It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was. 

At Eddie's direction, in preparation, Steve had shaved his chest. More specifically, Steve had shaved half of his chest. The side Eddie would be working on, that sported the existing tattoo, was bare—smooth as a baby's bottom. The other side was… 

It was…

Jesus Christ.

It should have looked ridiculous actually, and it was a little funny, but honestly all Eddie could think when he stared at the untrimmed side of Steve's upper body, resplendent with the most glorious chest hair, was that it was a travesty, a crime even, that he’d never get to see the whole thing grown out in its full glory. 

The lack of a shirt also highlighted the fact that Steve was incredibly toned, much more so than he had initially appeared even through his slim fit henley. 

Eddie shook his head, praying it had suddenly become an etch-a-sketch and he could clear out his thoughts by sheer force. 

He truly didn’t know what had gotten into him. It was hardly the first time he’d worked on someone he found attractive, but usually he didn’t notice it quite this much. When you pierce and tattoo for a living you get used to seeing a lot of bare skin, including occasionally, areas typically reserved for romantic partners. Professional hazzard, but it’d never been a problem for him before. He was an artist, this was his craft, and bare skin was just another kind of canvas.

He blamed it on his current dry spell, self-imposed as it was. 

It was easy enough to go out on a Saturday and find a guy or girl to bring home for the night, but he was so tired of one night stands and meaningless hookups in bar bathrooms. Where was the substance? He wanted companionship. He wanted a partner. He wanted to fall in love. 

Eddie cleared his throat and crossed the room to hand Steve the stencil, busying himself with raising up his stool to the proper height and pulling on a pair of thick black neoprene gloves while the other man looked it over.  

“It’s great.” Steve said. 

“Good.” Eddie quietly let out the breath he’d been holding. “Alright I'm gonna put this on and have you take a look at the placement, make sure you like it, then we can get started.”

Eddie squeezed out a dime sized amount of the stencil gel and rubbed it into Steve’s chest, laying the transfer paper down in just the right way so that the final design would sufficiently cover what was underneath, assuming he had scaled it right. 

It was perfect. After a quick check in the mirror, Steve agreed. 

While they waited for it to dry Eddie double checked his set up to make sure he had everything he would need for the session.

“Ready to get started?”

Steve took a deep breath and blew it out slow. “Yeah. I am.”

His reply felt heavy, like maybe he was talking about more than just the tattoo. Had they known each other at all Eddie might have asked about it, but they were basically strangers, and it wasn’t his job to pry. 

With steady hands he set the needle to Steve's skin and got to work. 

They weren’t at it for very long before Steve started to squirm. 

Eddie ignored it at first, he could tell the guy was trying hard to keep himself still, and he wasn’t really moving enough to actually disturb the work. Sometimes it took a bit for clients to sink into the feeling, to let the pain fade to the background enough that they could relax a little bit or at least be able to keep their body from trying to react to the odd sensation. But then he noticed the light sheen of sweat spreading over Steve's upper body, and would have sworn he could somehow feel the other man’s pulse quickening beneath the hand he had pressed so closely to his heart, even over the vibration of the tattoo machine.

He should probably stop and do a check-in, suggest a breather or some water. It wouldn't be the first time a seemingly tough muscle-bound guy had struggled to sit for him. 

He opened his mouth to say something about it, lifting the needle as he took a quick glance up at Steve’s face, but what he saw had the words dying on his tongue. Steve was staring back at him, face flushed, breath coming quick and shallow, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. 

That… did not look like a face that was in pain—or rather—it didn’t seem like the pain was unpleasant. 

Fuck.

Eddie flicked his gaze quickly back down to his hands, the needle, fighting the urge to look lower. 

He shouldn’t. 

It wasn’t right.

The professional thing to do would be to ignore the reaction completely. 

But Eddie was a weak, weak man.

He looked. 

Just a quick peek, less than a half-second that his eyes wandered south, and immediately he regretted it. 

Oh fuck, fuck, fuuuck.

Suspicion confirmed. Steve was hard. He was also huge if the unmistakable outline was any indication. Eddie bit his tongue, fighting back the groan that was trying to fight its way out of his throat. 

Those jeans should be fucking illegal. The only thing worse would’ve been a pair of gray sweatpants. Now he was the one sweating.

“Sorry.” Steve said, voice strained.

Eddie stilled, lifting the machine away from Steve's chest again before looking back up to meet his eyes. 

“For?”

Steve raised an eyebrow, challenging him to continue to pretend he hadn’t noticed. 

“It’s fine, really. It… happens. Everyone reacts differently to the pain.”

Steve let out a high pitched and breathy huff of laughter. “It wasn’t like this last time.” He muttered under his breath.

Eddie tried hard not to read into that, not to think about what the difference might be.

“Do you need to take a break?” 

“No,” Steve swallowed hard. Eddie watched, momentarily mesmerized by the bob of his adams apple. “But, uh, can we talk or something? To distract me?”

He sounded so vulnerable, and a little embarrassed. It was enough to snap Eddie out of his daze. The last thing he wanted was for the person in his chair to feel uncomfortable. Talking he could do, it was one of his best things. 

“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” Eddie asked casually, getting right back into his line work.

“You.” Steve answered quickly, pausing to clear his throat. “Um, I mean, did you always want to be a tattoo artist?”

Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much. I used to spend all my time, including the time I should have been using to study or do my homework, drawing, sketching, painting, you name it, and it just kinda developed from there. I gave myself my first stick-and-poke when I was about 15. My uncle was pissed. Not about the tattoo exactly, but he was worried I wasn't being safe enough about it—sanitary and stuff. Of course, he wasn’t wrong. So, Wayne took me out the next day and we got a book about it, and he bought me all the right materials. Even let me practice on him when I graduated to a tattoo machine.”

“He sounds like a really great guy.” Steve said.

“Yeah, he is.” Eddie could feel the wistful smile spreading across his own face. “Not just anyone could step in and raise someone else’s kid like that. Just wish I got to see him more. I go back to Indiana to visit him a few times a year, but it’s not the same.”

“I don’t see my family very much either, but we’re not close.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. My parents, they’re–” Steve trailed off as if looking for the right words. “Well, let's just say they're not as supportive of my—life choices, as your uncle was for you.”

“Oh?”

“I, uh, came out to them a while ago… as bisexual? They didn’t take it very well. Said I was just going through some kind of phase or crisis or something. Sorry, this is probably, like, way too much information to share with someone I just met.”

“No. it’s—Okay, maybe to a normal person it might be but I've never been what anyone would describe as normal. And… I get it.”

Eddie didn’t really have to say it. The outside of the shop sported every kind of pride flag you could think of. There were pictures right behind him on the wall of him and Chrissy at their first ever pride parade right here in the city. Not to mention his social media profiles, where he had a bi  flag right next to his age and pronouns in his bio. Steve knew, was the point, and Eddie was glad he’d felt safe enough in his shop—with him, to talk about it.

“Wayne was really good about that too.” Eddie said softly. “I’m sorry your parents weren’t.”

A comfortable silence settled between them after that and Eddie left it unbroken, better to let Steve decide which direction their conversation went from here—if he wanted to continue it. He seemed more relaxed already and his… predicament had mercifully gone down as they spoke. 

“When did you—how did you… know?“ Steve asked after a while.

“Junior High.” Eddie answered quickly, smiling to himself as he indulged in a little nostalgia. “Kinda the opposite of the usual story, I guess. I thought I was gay. I had such a crush on this boy a grade above me.  Nobody that would have given me the time of day mind you, I was a band geek and a huge nerd, but he was very nice to look at. Then he changed schools. I was heartbroken of course, which is my excuse for why I let this girl drag me under the bleachers during gym class. One second we were just sitting there talking and the next she was in my lap with her tongue down my throat.” 

“And?”

Eddie shrugged. “And I didn’t hate it. I reacted exactly the way a young boy reacts when a pretty girl is kissing them and grinding in their lap. Honestly, it blew my mind a little bit—had to reevaluate my whole world view.”

Steve hummed in understanding.

“It’s still mostly men for me but–” Eddie sighed wistfully, “Women.”

“Women,” Steve agreed reverently, letting out a soft laugh. “It was a bit more recent for me. A friend took me to a gay bar—dragged me there actually.” He started to shake his head, stopping instantly when he seemed to realize he might be moving too much.

Good boy.

Eddie smirked. “I bet you were popular.”

“You could say that. I’ve never had so many people offer to buy me a drink in my life.” As Steve went on he began to rub his hand along the chair's armrest, mindlessly drawing patterns into its surface with his long fingers.

“It’s funny, at 25 I didn’t think I had anything new to discover about myself, at least nothing big, but after that rather eye-opening evening I had to, like you said, reevaluate some things about myself. It wasn’t a huge shock I guess. Like, I had found guys attractive before—friends, celebrities, whatever, I just thought everyone felt that way.”

“Ah, the bisexual’s fallacy. Sure I think about other dudes sometimes, but only the normal amount.” Eddie said.

“How was I supposed to know it wasn’t!”

Eddie stopped tattooing as they held each other's gaze, both managing to keep a straight face for only a second before simultaneously dissolving into hysterical laughter. 

Figuring it was as good a time as any to take a short break, Eddie stripped his gloves off and slid across the room on his stool to a small mini-fridge he kept tucked under his desk, stocked with water and juice—something he always kept on hand in case a client got lightheaded.

As they sipped their drinks and both took an opportunity to stretch, Eddie decided it was finally time to put his foot in his mouth.

“So, how are you enjoying things on this side of the field? Someone as pretty as you, I'm sure you get asked out a lot.”

“No, uh, I don't know. I- I haven't really been out on any dates with guys.” Steve stuttered out nervously. “Kissed a few, but that’s all.” 

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Eddie said. He meant it too. Not only was Steve something special to look at, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. He deserved to be taken out and shown a good time. Maybe he was shy.

Steve laid back in the chair, puffing his chest out as he got back into position while Eddie slipped a new pair of gloves on. 

“Why, you offering to show me the ropes?” Steve asked, pointedly raising an eyebrow.

Eddie’s mouth went dry. 

Okay, not that shy then. Surely it was just fun friendly flirting though, right?

“Don’t tempt me.” Eddie teased back. Two could play this game.

“Why not?”

“First rule of the trade, or at least the Munson doctrine, no dating the clients.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Steve said, and without even looking up Eddie could hear the smile in his voice, a hint of–challenge accepted–in his tone.

The next hour flew by as they continued to chat, both remarking on the differences between small town life and city life, as well as lamenting how expensive it was, and how neither of them thought they’d still be living with roommates in their mid-to-late-20's.

For a while Eddie waxed poetic about Chrissy, who of course filled the roles of bestie, roommate, and business partner, which tickled Steve to no end. 

He told the other man how they’d met, apprenticing at the same tattoo parlor at around the same time. and wound up bonding for life almost immediately. They were total opposites on the surface but deep down they were remarkably similar. Eddie didn’t go into too much detail, as it wasn’t his story to tell, but alluded to the fact that he and Chrissy had the shared experience of being born to shitty parents, only to be raised by another family member. A grandmother in Chrissy’s case.

It meant that they understood each other more than most, and yeah, being around one another 24/7 also meant they got on each other’s nerves a lot, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.  

At some point Steve’s cell phone began to ring from where it was shoved in his front pocket. He apologized profusely for forgetting to switch it on silent before they’d gotten started, but Eddie assured him it wasn’t a big deal. 

Or—it wouldn't have been, except either it was some kind of emergency, or someone who was intent on reaching Steve immediately, and continued trying to call three more times. 

“We can take a break if you need to get that.” Eddie offered.

Truth be told he could use a little breather himself. All this time of being essentially face down in Steve’s incredible chest was getting to him a little bit, not to mention the way his forearm lightly brushed along Steve's stomach whenever he braced himself across the man’s body. The feel of their bare skin touching was almost too much, and more than once Eddie felt himself breaking out in goosebumps. 

“Yeah, I think we’d better. It’s gotta be my little brother and knowing him he won’t stop calling until I answer.”

Eddie busied himself removing his gloves and taking a long drink from his water bottle while he flipped through a few drawings on his side table, trying to look like he wasn’t hearing every word of Steve's side of the conversation. 

“Hey buddy, I'm a little busy right now. What’s going on?” 

Steve paused, listening attentively to the voice on the other end of the call. 

“Dustin, he’s not abandoning you. Just because he wants–”

Sighing as he was abruptly interrupted, Steve somehow made the huff of breath sound both annoyed and fond.

“Well, did he actually say he didn’t want to play D&D with you anymore?” 

Eddie’s head snapped up of its own volition. Did the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen in real life just say D&D?

“That’s what I thought.” Steve said with a satisfied tone. “It's gonna be fine. I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay? Tell your mom I said hi.”

“Sorry about that.” Steve said, addressing Eddie this time, rolling his eyes as he ended the call. “Teenagers.”

“Pretty cool little brother if he plays Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Oh no.” Steve groaned. “Not you too! He and all his little friends are obsessed with it.”

“I used to play all the time with a group back in high school. We still try and get together for a one-shot at the holidays when we’re all back home visiting.” Eddie paused, concentrating for a second on wiggling his fingers into yet another set of gloves. There wasn’t really all that much left to do, another 20 minutes or so and he’d be done with the outline. “Was he alright, your brother?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine.” Steve replied as he sat back, getting into position. “We, uh, technically we’re not actually related—I'm an only child. But I used to babysit Dustin when he was younger and when he grew up I just sorta stuck around. It’s only him and his mom at home and I guess I thought… I dunno, like, maybe I could help? I drove him to his first school dance, taught him how to do his hair, shave, that kinda stuff.”

“That's… that’s really sweet, man. I’m sure he appreciates having you around.”

With every new thing he learned about Steve, Eddie felt like he was in deeper and deeper trouble. He’d been having a tough enough time keeping it together with simply lusting over a hot body, but now Steve was turning out to be this sweetheart of a guy and, client or not, Eddie thought he might just be worth breaking all the rules for. 

“He’s worried his friend group is falling apart because one of the guys is going out for the basketball team. He’s afraid if Lucas gets in good with the jocks he won’t want to play with them anymore.”

“As a former outcast and enemy to jocks everywhere, I can understand his concern.” 

“Are you saying we wouldn't have been friends in high school then?”

“Steve, Stevie, please. Please don’t tell me…” Eddie trailed off, stopping what he was doing and gasping for dramatic effect–hand over his heart. “Oh god, you were captain of the sportsball team weren’t you?” 

Steve giggled, his beautiful eyes sparkling with it. “Basketball, to be exact. I was the co-captain of the swim team too.”

“I knew it would never work between us.” Eddie tutted, shaking his head as he got back to tattooing. “Are you reformed, at least?”

“Once a jock, always a jock, I'm afraid. I’m a personal trainer now.”

It explained a lot, and the perks—pun absolutely intended—of Steve's day job were undeniable, but as hot as the mental image of him pumping iron was, the idea of Steve palling around with toxic gym bros all day was almost enough to have Eddie second guessing everything.

“Don’t worry though, I don’t like gym bros any more than the next guy.” Steve said conspiratorially. “My clients are mainly older women looking to maintain their strength and mobility as they age.”

Aaaaand Eddie stood corrected. “Lucky ladies.”

Jesus Christ, could this guy get any more perfect?

Steve shifted in his seat, starting to get antsy after keeeping still for so long. 

“Just a few more minutes, almost done.” Eddie murmured, tongue between his teeth as he concentrated on a spot near the curve of Steve’s collarbone.

“Do you do a lot of these? Cover-ups I mean?” Steve asked. “My roommate is the one who actually suggested it. For some reason I just never thought about it as an option.”

“I don’t know if i’d say a lot, but a fair few, yeah.”

“You, um. You can ask about it… If you want.”

Eddie glanced up in surprise. He would never have brought it up without being prompted, it just didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t deny he was curious, and if Steve was okay with it then–

“Okay, I'll bite. Who’s Nancy?”

“My fiance’. Well, ex-fiance’ now. We broke things off a little over a year ago.”

“That’s rough, I'm sorry.”

“It’s okay. Honestly, It’s… I should have probably seen it coming? We were high school sweethearts—got together before we really knew who we were on our own. But I was dumb and in love. I got the tattoo and proposed. I was so happy that day, but looking back it was so obvious that she’d only said yes out of pity or guilt, not because she really wanted to spend the rest of her life with me.”

The part of Eddie that believed in true love—and all that cheesy shit—was sad that a couple who had been together for so long, who had essentially grown up together, hadn’t been able to make it work. Selfishly though, a small piece of him was happy to learn that they’d been broken up for quite some time, lessening the chance that, if he did somehow gather the courage to ask Steve out when the tattoo was done, he wouldn’t be on the rebound.

“It was tough. I felt like a failure for a long time, like I was having to start my whole life over from scratch when I'd thought for so long that she was it for me, but it's actually been… good. We weren’t right for eachother, I can see that now. As much as it hurt, I'm grateful she had the courage to break things off when she did.”

“I’m glad you’ve been able to come to peace with it.”

“Getting this tattoo feels like the final step into letting that life go, y’know?”

Eddie nodded. Steve’s demeanor before they got started made so much sense now.

“Is there some significance to the design?” He asked, making his final line and setting the machine down. He wiped at the excess ink on Steve's skin, raising his head just in time to see the way the other man’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah, Robin. She–she’s everything to me. Like a best friend, but more somehow. I don’t think I really knew what unconditional love was before her. She’s like, another piece of my soul or something. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

Eddie froze. 

The tattoo design was a bird—a robin.

A robin.

For, Robin.

How could he have been so stupid! 

Of course, Steve was getting one girl’s name covered up with something to represent the new one. 

Jesus Christ, they were both idiots.

Eddie for getting his hopes up, and Steve for making the same mistake—twice. At least this time it was a symbol and not a name, so if he and the latest potential Mrs. Harrington didn’t work out, at least he wouldn't have to worry about covering it up.

“Everything alright?” Steve asked.

The question spurred Eddie back into action. He spread the foam soap over Steve’s chest continuing to clean the finished tattoo while his heart crawled up into his throat. 

“Yup. All good.” Eddie forced the words out.

That's what Steve must have meant about not going on dates, he already had someone at home. Why hadn’t he just said that before though? And why had he flirted with him? 

Maybe he’d felt funny at first about admitting to being with a woman after all the talk about being bisexual. Not that Eddie would have judged, but he knew a lot of people did—bi erasure was so real. He understood that, but it didn’t make it hurt any less that Steve had, inadvertently or not, lead him on. 

Eddie gently patted the newly cleaned skin dry with a paper towel and carefully applied a square of Saniderm over the area, smoothing it out as he gave Steve his usual spiel, albeit a little robotically, about how to care for the tattoo over the coming days and weeks.

He quickly turned his back when he was done, telling Steve he could get dressed, and feeling stupid as all hell for being this upset about a guy he barely knew. He’d felt something though, potential—a spark. It was more than he’d felt for anyone in a long time.

Steve got quiet, looking a little confused with the sudden 180° Eddie’s mood had pulled. He felt a little bad about that as he brought the guy back out to the counter, but it wasn’t as though he’d suddenly become unprofessional. He was just… no longer being overly friendly.

After confirming the date for his second session, Steve paid his balance and Eddie walked him to the door.  

“Have a good night, Steve. Call the shop if you have any concerns or questions about aftercare.”

Steve bit his lip. “Oh, I… okay. See you in six weeks then.”

Eddie forced a smile, waiting until Steve was out of sight around the corner to lock up, and slunk back to his studio to disinfect it so he could finally go home and sulk.

Chapter 2

All my thanks to @penny00dreadful for all of your wonderful beta work, and cheerleading, and support, and just generally being THE BEST 💜