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domesticandlovingmonsters · 2 months

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Guard Captain Aram (M) x F!Reader (wip)

Because I feel bad with how long this is taking to come out, and I am currently stuck on how to proceed, I'm posting this as is.

I intend to complete it annd post it as a whole, but since I'm stuck, you got this. Consider this as a type of two-parter until I can work out how to write someone having a date and how conversations work. I swear I'm a good writer, guys!!! I know how sentences and dialogue works.

Words: 9.9k

Theme/Plot: (Fantasy/Medieval) You're a merchant, new to the city looking to start a business from the ground up. Having purchased a cheap, run-down building as your starting point, you work hard to make something of the little things you have. But after a string of robberies, you find yourself as the centre of the Guard Captain's attention.

The rain came down in pouring sheets. Deafening you inside your own dwelling as a year's worth of rain pummeled the tiled roof.

Thunder clapped overhead so close to the city roofs that the window panels shook in their frames.

It was a gloomy day. One that made the hours in the shop drag by at a snail's pace. Not a soul was out today. For good reason, or else they’d risk being washed away by the water flowing down the street drains. Thankfully, there was alot of old stock you needed to organize and catalog to keep you busy.

The storm was a blessing in disguise. Despite the chilly weather.

With the lack of customers to keep an eye on and take commissions for, it allowed you to tune up the shop within your actual work hours. And not drip over into the late afternoon like you dreaded.

And with the ample amount of downtime came the close inspection of how your little, ancient store held up in such a harsh rainstorm.

The last of your money had gone into buying this place. It was a cheap sale and the reasons for it were obvious. A small shop with a small dwelling connected to the back of it for residential purposes.

The paint on the front was peeling and much of the wooden beams needed some love and care. The windows had needed to be removed and replaced; they had been so grimey and cracked that it made the store look sickly from the outside. And dark and gloomy within.

Not to mention the rot within the wood in some places. Which had soaked up that lingering few coins you had after the sale. But it was better than leaving the place smelling like decaying wood and having openings for rats.

The roof seemed fine, the tiles were covered in moss and some were cracked, but you didn’t see any damage other than age.

It has been months since you bought it and this had been the first real change in sunny weather, so you were walking around the place constantly looking for leaks.

So far, nothing splashed against the wooden floor. Your little shack was holding up nicely under the rain, even if the walls groaned rather worryingly whenever the wind rushed through the city streets.

The shop was nothing spectacular, you knew that. But it was yours. And it was a much nicer place than the roadside stall you used to man while you traveled.

You glanced out the window as a flash of white light illuminated the dreary street outside. And winced at the image of you and your old horse and wagon in such weather.

Many times you had been caught out in storms like this. Losing stock to the water or your wagon’s wheels getting sucked into the muddy roads.

Looking back into your warm, dry shop; a new type of appreciation came to you with your decision to settle down. And you took a deep breath of dusty, humid air and smiled.

Your shop.

It still felt weird to say. But it was still just as exciting.

Over the thunder and tumbling rain, your shop-door’s bell chimed. Alerting you to two customers that all but barrelled into the dry space.

They were soaking. But smiled cheerfully as you greeted them. One had an umbrella that looked like the wind had torn it asunder and both their hoods were raised low over their faces. Leaving only their wide smiles for you to see.

“We are so sorry for dragging water in here.” One said, a woman. Rubbing her arms to retain some heat beneath the thick cloak. “But we’re in need of some alchemy ingredients, if you have any. You’re the closest store to ours and we’re low on some things to make cold remedies.”

The other customer, with the torn umbrella, looked around your small store with a grin. “You’ve really spruced this place up. It’s so much nicer here than what I last remember. The last owner did not care for this building at all.”

You smiled as their hoods were lowered. You recognized them as the potions store owners down the street. You spoke briefly once. They were nice people. But very busy. And their names eluded you, unfortunately.

“Welcome! And don’t worry about the water, it’s unavoidable at the moment. I think I tracked in half the realm’s mud this morning. Please, come in. What did you need exactly? I have a few stocks that might be what you need.”

The woman huffed with visible relief and hurried forward to your counter. Where you withdrew some small boxes of bottled ingredients and jars of various substances.

You didn’t sell anything but the basic materials. Your shop was more a general store than a particular theme. You still weren’t sure what you wanted to be in the city.

You’ve only ever known what you could carry. On the road, certain ingredients didn’t travel well. And jewelry or fine goods made you a target for bandits.

Here, within the safety of the city, you could be any type of trader you wanted. You just still weren’t sure what niche you wanted to be.

But your general goods were exactly what these two were looking for. And your eyes widened in surprise when they asked to buy your entire stock of your basic ingredients.

“I know it’ll put you out, but we’ll pay you an extra sum on top of the sale. Our next shipment of this isn’t for another week, and we have so many commissions coming in for cold remedies.” The man said. Already pulling out a large coin purse from his belt. “And you’ll be doing us a huge favor. If you need anything-”

“It’s a deal.” You said, waving away the man’s pleading stare. “We’ve got to look after each other after all. I was going to offer a discount since you’re buying such a large amount.”

The bell over your door chimed and you shifted behind your counter so you could see around the couple. A young woman shuffled into the store. Her eyes looked around the shelves with interest and a thin cloak was wrapped around her shoulders.

“I’ll be with you in a moment!” You called out to the woman. Seeming to startle her. But she smiled, it felt a little forced, and moved deeper into your store. Her eyes darted around and then back to you.

You were about to say something else when the potion’s woman handed you a sum of coins. “I insist. I know how frustrating it can be to be out of stock. Particularly ingredients like this. Please, take the extra sum. You’re doing us a huge favor with-”

The woman’s partner glanced over his shoulder as the woman at the back moved quickly towards the door. Her shoulders were hunched as she braced for the cold water to hit her as she opened the door.

“Hey! You, wait!” He shouted but the woman was already sprinting out the door. Almost slipping on the wet pavement outside. The potion’s man swore and handed his partner the purse. “That girl is the one who stole from us last week. Get the guards!”

Before you could react, the man was barreling out of your store and charging out into the rain. His partner seemed just as surprised as you but quickly pocketed the purse and looked at you.

“Do you have a way to summon the guards directly here?” You shook your head. Your heart was pounding in your chest. “I have one in my store. I’ll go call them. See if you can find out if that woman stole anything from you. I’ll be right back.”

The woman left her crate of goods behind as she hurried out of your shop. You were quick to follow, but went to where you last saw the woman browsing.

Your eyes flew from object to object. Taking note of any spots that seemed to have shifted or had missing stock.

Everything seemed fine. Until you noticed your small display of wands had been touched. These weren’t like the wands that witches and warlocks used. But temporary magical items that did various things depending on their make.

You had ordered these as a step into selling magical merchandise. To see how well they sold here. Kids adored the ones that created bubbles of light. And a few people purchased the design that acted as a quill that would write for you without you touching it.

You had recently restocked the display with other types. And there were two that were missing.

One was a water-make. Which either made water or removed it. Not enough to drain a lake or a pool, but a few buckets could be filled or emptied if needed.

And the second was a fire starter. Which spat sparks that would harmlessly bounce off of skin or clothes, but would light a small fire on even the most water-bogged logs or extinguish it.

You sighed. Already understanding why these particular items were stolen.

You’ve dealt with enough desperate people to know when it was necessity and not greed that pushed a person to steal.

You bit your lip. These wands weren’t expensive and were cheap stock to order.

Maybe if I’m quick I can stop the potions woman from calling the guards. You thought. But then you reminded yourself that the woman who stole from you, had also stolen from them. And over the first few months of owning and stocking this store, you’ve had more than your fair share of robberies and stolen items. If word got out that you let a person steal from you, this could spiral into something worse.

The best you could do for them was not press charges if the person is found.

You sighed again. Heavier than the last and moved through your store to get your cloak.

But on your way to the back, past a small lock-box display of jewelry, you noticed the glass lid had been pried open. The magical seal had been expertly dispelled and one of your silver rings, one that created a bubble of small protection, was missing.

You swore under your breath. Disappointment flooding through you.

Now you had to continue with the guards and hope they found the person.

That ring was an expensive item. The enchantment was a common one, but the ring amplified the bubble to be the size of a house. Something that was incredibly hard to do and would have taken alot of material to make such an enchantment safe and usable.

Hence why it was in a lock-box, under magical protection, and worth a decent sum of coins. Another one of your stretches into unknown territory with sales and items.

It was nothing so expensive that it would put a target on your store. But it was one of your pricier items, one that a customer had been eyeing off last time they passed through.

“They just had to steal that.” You grumbled. Slapping the lid back down on the lock-box. The seal buzzed as the box was closed again, letting you know the magic was once again activated. You gave it an experimental tug on the lid and when it didn’t open, without your key, you were happy enough to leave it.

You retrieved your cloak from the back of the shop and exited your store. Making sure the door was locked and hurried down the street to the potions store.

You were near drenched when you slipped into the two story building. But the moment your foot stepped over the threshold, you were flooded with warmth and your clothes tickled with magic that left you dry and comfortable.

You definitely needed that enchantment on your front door.

From behind the many shelves, the potions woman appeared, looking flustered as she hurried towards you. “The guards are on their way. Did that wretched thing take anything?”

“Some low magic wands and an enchanted ring.” You grimaced. “I don’t care for the wands, so much. But that ring is expensive. As long as I get that back, I’ll let it slide.”

The woman scoffed and gestured for you to follow her, leading you to the back of the store where a pot of tea and some small biscuits were waiting. “That woman stole two potions of healing and an iron-bark elixir from us. I know times are tough. And the potions were only small portions, not worth alot. But the iron-bark elixir is a very slow and ingredient heavy process. We can only make so many a month and they're in high demand with the guards and travelers. If she only stole the potions, we wouldn’t have pushed so hard to find her. But the elixir alone can fix us up for an entire month.”

Your eyes widened. “Those elixirs are that expensive?”

“Ours are, yes.” The woman said, a little proudly, as she poured you a cup of tea. “Ours doesn’t just give you thick skin and more strength, we’ve perfected a way that the aftereffect of the elixir doesn’t put you in a bed for a day. It’ll affect you for a few hours at best after you use the elixir but unlike our competitors iron-bark, you can get up and get ready for the day after a good night’s sleep.”

You whistled in appreciation for such craftsmanship. “That’s incredible. I can understand why she would try to take it then. Sell it off for some quick coin.”

The woman nodded. Sipping her tea after putting some honey in it and stirring. “I grew up very poor. I used to steal bread and clothes to get by. But stealing potions like ours? You put yourself at such risk for it. Even your ring! The wands can be overlooked. But something like that is just…silly.”

You stirred some honey into your own cup and allowed the conversation to fall away as you sipped. Thankfully, the potions man appeared in the doorway. Looking winded and red faced. “I couldn’t find her. The damn woman gave me the slip.”

“Better you don’t approach her, love.” The woman said, with a soft smile. “Let the guards deal with her. They’re on their way.”

The man nodded. Taking a deep breath that his body obviously needed. He looked at you and offered a smile. “I’m sorry I couldn’t catch her. Did she steal anything?”

You explained the stolen stock and the man tsked. Muttering about the lack of respect for shopkeepers; “Especially one such as yourself. You’re just starting out! I recall my first few years as a storekeeper, my Gods, the ledger was never full enough. And every piece of missing stock was precious.”

You nodded, chuckling along with the man as he shook his head. “Well, at least our sale will help me out until I can get a replacement or the ring is found. I’ll bring the stock over once we’ve spoken with the guards. I didn’t think to bring it over just now.”

The two waved you off. Saying they trust you enough to not skip their deal because of a distraction like this.

The three of you chatted idly while you waited for the guards to arrive.

And when they did, you immediately recognized three amongst them.

One was a tall elf woman by the name of Yesrie. Dark hair with sharp eyes but a warm smile.

The second was a human man named Smith. You never got his first name because everyone called him by his second. He had been in his first year in the Guard when you arrived; eager to help and prove himself, he had taken your reports on missing items like a personal attack. And hunted them down like he was the one who owned them.

Then the third, the Guard Captain’s right hand, Briar. A green lizardman built like a stone barn. They were a stoic type of individual. Had a sharp tongue when it came to humbling their guards but professional when it came to their work.

They all greeted you a little more warmly than they did with the pair beside you.

Your first few months here allowed you to become quite friendly with the Guard. Not by any intent of your own, but your new store in town got more attention than you bargained for. And not in a good way. Stolen merchandise meant the Guard got involved. And it happened so often within a few weeks that the Guard Captain had stepped in.

And with that sort of attention watching your store, the thieves dissipated quickly.

“(Y/N), why am I not surprised your shop was involved?” Briar asked, crossing their arms over their armor plated chest. Their iron gauntlets clinked against the metal. “I had hoped that the call meant a different store.”

You shrugged, sighing dramatically. “It wouldn’t be a Thursday without something of mine going missing.”

Smith and Yesrie laughed. Briar’s reptilian face rarely showed much emotion other than a hard stare. But you glimpsed their scaly lips twitch in amusement.

“Indeed. You know the drill, then. What happened? Every little detail, as you know, helps us out.”

You explained the events that transpired within your store. Explaining why the potion-store owners were involved, which gave them a chance to explain how they recognized the person who stole from you.

Briar nodded along, taking in everything you said. Yesrie commented they were the guard that took the potion store’s report and that this thief was targeting many stores in the district, not just a few.

Smith was writing down notes in a small notebook that was the size of his palm. Asking the usual questions like the woman’s hair color or description. Which you had to let the potion shop owners answer, because you didn’t really take notice of the woman.

Then when you got to the descriptions of the stolen items, Briar’s tail twitched in irritation. Nothing directed at you, you found out. “Well, that complicates things. Stolen magical items of significant power require a formal report issued by the owner. Meaning, (y/n), you’re gonna have to go to the Guard House and fill one out.”

You groaned in annoyance. You had to fill out a report once before. It took forever. And you really didn’t feel like going across the district to the Guard House in this weather.

But if you want that ring back, or at least be compensated for its loss, you’ll need to go.

“I’m guessing I’ll need the paperwork I received for purchasing the item to sell?” You asked and Briar nodded.

“Proof of purchase or the license which came with the item. Anything that has the item’s description and magic detailed alongside your ownership. And it’s something you need to do at the House, too. We can’t issue you one, since you need a scribe to sign off on it and witness you filling it out.”

“All that for a magical item?” The potions woman scoffed. “Damn, I’m happy we never got into that side of the business.”

You wish you could agree with her. But you were definitely going to make an adjustment to your stock and protection so you didn’t have to go through this again.

“Alright. Thank you for your time. Sorry you had to march through this weather for my store again.” You said. And Yesrie shrugged, glancing out the window as another flash of lightning lit up the dim street outside.

“The weather makes you appreciate the sunny days more. We’ll see you at the House, (y/n).” Yesrie replied. And the guards took their leave.

You soon followed suit. Promising the potion owners you would bring their merchandise around soon. But they waved you off. Telling you to deal with the reports and the guards first before worrying about them.

You were beginning to really appreciate them. And made sure to lower the price on anything the two needed in any later deals.

Back inside your shop you made quick work of finding the needed documents that involved any transaction or information of the ring.

Which you then wrapped up in a leather satchel that was worn and aged from many years on the road. An old trusty item you’ve carried with you everywhere before placing it in the drawer of your new work desk.

It would protect the documents from the rain and keep them nice and flat while you trekked the stormy streets.

You wrapped yourself up in as much water-proof clothing as you could. Your cloak was your best chance at keeping yourself dry but watching the sky still bucket down torrents of water, you doubted you’d stay warm for long.

As long as the documents were safe, you could endure the rain.

And walking through the streets was just about as miserable as you expected. You stuck to any type of cover you could as you walked. Storefront canopies or trees that were planted along the paths. The thunder felt like it was roaring directly in your ear as you braced against the chilling wind.

You wrapped your cloak tightly around you and pulled your hood down so low over your face you could only see the pavement in front of you.

Every glance up at where you were going was a risk of cold water trickling down your neck and into your warm clothes.

You zigged and zagged through the district until you came upon the large stone steps of the Guard House. The House itself was huge! Meant to house many of the district's officers and their cadets. This one also doubled as a school for fresh-faced persons looking to become a guard.

As you climbed the steps to the door, you could hear someone yelling at said cadets beyond the stone wall that secluded the training yards from the streets.

You grimaced at the thought of training in such weather.

As you stepped through the doors, the same magic from the potion shop passed over your clothes. However, this enchantment felt like it was spluttering. Parts of you were left dry while other sections were left merely damp.

You were warmer than before you stepped inside but your fingers still felt icy as you approached the receptionist at the desk.

You greeted them warmly and explained what you needed to fill out. And the receptionist motioned for you to walk down a hallway and then turn right, which would lead you to the scribes that would help you out.

You thanked her and headed in your pointed direction.

The House was bustling with activity. You passed many guards through the halls, swathed in armor and weapons. A few scribes hurried by and you even made room for a woman with a mean looking hound to pass you in the hall.

She thanked you as she kept the beast on a short leash. The hound didn’t pay you any mind so you knew it was more for your sense of space than the dog’s.

But you found the scribe room easily enough and the man behind the desk went through the process of the report.

It was a long document too. With a handful of pages that you needed to fill out and agree too. The scribe looked equally annoyed with the prospect, apparently he needed to go over it and sign off as you went. It would take time out of both of your afternoon’s. But he took you to the side to a desk so you could sit comfortably and fill it out.

Excusing himself and asking you to call him over when you got to a particular section before moving on through the document.

You hoped the scribe didn’t think your agitation was directed at him as you sighed and sat down. But you got to work, reading over the lengthy questions and paragraphs with a quill in your hand.

A few minutes later, Briar entered the room and went to the scribe desk, speaking softly. When the scribe nodded and disappeared through a door, their eyes passed over you once before snapping back as they spotted you. They came over to greet you. Their tail dripped a little with rainwater. “Ah, it’s good to see someone with initiative. You got here quickly.” Briar said, leaning against another desk to your left.

“Better to get it out of the way now than later.” You shrugged. “You wouldn’t have happened to stumble across my thief with my ring by chance? So I don’t have to do this?” You asked, hopefully. But Briar shook their head.

That twitch pulled at their scaly lips again as a hissing chuckle whistled through their sharp teeth.

“If only we were that lucky. I have to do my own paperwork about it, as well. I envy you. I’d rather do your documents than my own.” Like the scribe was summoned, he appeared and placed a thick folder of paper on the front desk. Briar thanked him gruffly and went over to scoop it up. Grumbling as he showed you the thickness of the folder. “See. No complaining from you about lengthy reports. I will probably beat you on every account.”

You laughed and nodded. “I do feel a little better about my report now. Thanks.”

“Here to help. Enjoy.” Briar said with a curt nod before leaving the room.

You refocused your attention on the documents in front of you. Calling over the scribe when he didn’t look too busy once you got up to the section he requested.

And while he looked over what you wrote and ensured everything was in order, you let your gaze wander. The scribe hall looked like a bustling library. Desks and chairs were scattered about the room. And behind the front desk were many, many towering shelves of books and scrolls.

Scribes appeared and disappeared behind each corridor of paper. Some carried in armfuls of paper or were discussing something with a guard.

It was all very busy here. But the chatter was rather quiet. You wondered if there was some sort of magic that kept the sound of the hustle and bustle at a low range.

“Scribe Harry, I was told that- Oh, (y/n), what are you doing here?” Your attention snapped to the door of the hall as your name was voiced.

Guard Captain Aram strolled over to where you were sitting. Making your heart skip a beat when he leaned over the back of your chair to inspect the report.

Aram was an orc with a heavy green complexion that contrasted the pale patches of skin on his body caused by vitiligo. His blonde hair was tied back in uniform to the neat standards of the Guard.

His tusks curved out from his lower lip, decorated by silver caps on the blunt tips. His thick arms were wrapped in thick leather that slid under a heavy metal chest piece with the Guard’s symbol carved into the steel. The patches on his shoulders displayed his rank, if the better armor and air of authority didn’t already display it.

“I was robbed again.” You sighed. Pushing down the sudden rush of nervousness as you turned your attention to the captain. “A magical item this time. Briar came and sorted it out and told me to come here.”

Aram’s brows knitted together and you could have sworn you saw a spark of amusement light in those beautiful emerald eyes. Before the stoic expression of a guard captain fell back into place. “Ah, yes, the grand paperwork involved with magic. I thought you said you wanted to keep simple stock for a time.”

You nodded. Having to pause your answer to thank the scribe as he pushed the report back to you to continue writing. “Yes. But a friend of mine had some stock they couldn’t move in the settlement nearby. So, I took it off their hands.”

“And then someone decided to take it from yours.” Aram said. He glanced over at the scribe as he moved some dropped off paperwork into the shelves behind him. “Hmm, this will go quicker if I take over for the scribes. The poor bastards have had their hands full recently.” Then Aram called out to the scribe nearby, Harry, who looked relieved when Aram explained he’d be taking over witnessing you finish the report.

“Do you mind if we do this in my office? The magic in here makes my ears ache.” Aram asked. And when you nodded, Aram escorted you through the building to his office. Which you had been in once before when Aram had taken over the investigation of why your store was being targeted so frequently.

He closed the door behind you and you took the offered seat in front of his desk. Which he then slid your seat closer to the desk and made space on the surface for you to start the next section of the report.

He moved your chair so effortlessly with you in it that it made your stomach flip a little giddily. But you hid your smile as you busied yourself with reading over the next section.

“I was recently thinking about you. And, uh, the reports you had to make on your store.” Aram said rather quickly, fiddling with some papers on his desk. “It’s been a while since your last break in. I thought my trick did the job, to be honest.”

“For a while it did.” You agreed. Pausing to write down the description of the ring. “The extra patrols you had around the place seemed to scare them off. And gave me enough time to better the security of my shop. I still spot Smith on occasion in the area. But he always seems busy. I hope you’re not working him too hard.”

Aram chuckled. Picking up a quill of his own and scribbling over some papers on his desk. “The boy is fine. He’s eager for the work. But, uh…” You tore your eyes off the paperwork long enough to see why Aram didn’t finish his sentence.

His eyes were narrowed and his lips were pursed in a poor attempt at looking angry, looking over your head to the windows behind you.

You turned your head. And you caught a glimpse of something quickly darting out of view of the office. The room was enclosed but anyone in the hallways had a clear view of you sitting at Aram’s desk. The Guard Captain grumbled and stood, clearing his throat as he flicked a small switch and curtains fell down over the windows leading to the corridor outside.

“Nosy bastards.” You heard Aram mutter. But you pretended not to hear him as he returned to his seat and continued working on whatever was in front of him. “I was going to say he wanted to be set in that district. Apparently, his aunt lives around there.”

“Aww, that’s sweet of him. I’ll be sure to annoy him any chance I get when I see him.” You said, refocusing on the paper in front of you. You reached the next spot the scribe had told you to call for him and offered the papers to Aram.

Who went over the report swiftly and then handed it back to you after he signed off on the part he needed too.

“A ring of protection, huh? That didn’t move at your friend's establishment?” Aram asked, surprised. And you shook your head, writing as you responded.

“Their town was going through a drought. Which is probably being washed downriver right now with this rain. But no one had the money to purchase a ring like that. I offered to buy it off them and then give them a percentage if I manage to sell it. We used to travel together before they bought their store. They helped me get my place. Since I had no idea how to purchase property.”

Aram made a thoughtful noise, watching you as you worked. “Why didn’t you buy a place outside the city? Probably would have been cheaper. And also get you a better place than that splinter shack.”

“Hey, that’s my splinter shack you’re insulting.” You playfully snapped. Which made the Guard Captain laugh. “But I wanted to try the city. I’ve never stayed in one for long. And I thought a change of lifestyle would be refreshing.”

“And is it refreshing?” Aram asked.

You paused to look up at him, smiling. “Well, the people are much more interesting.” You let the sentence hang in the air for a touch longer before continuing. “And there’s always something happening here. And the food! Oh my Lords, I’ve never had such a wide variety of food always available. Every morning I get a fresh coffee with a freshly baked bun. A much better change than living off of dried meats and stale bread with cheese.”

Aram grinned at that. His eyes seemed to sparkle in the candlelight. “So, you think you’ll stay here for good then. This string of robberies hasn’t scared you off?”

You scoffed lightly and shook your head. “I’ve fought off armed bandits and kobolds from my goods before. A few hooded figures isn’t going to scare me off. I’ve gotten too comfortable sleeping in an actual bed now to give it up.”

Your words seemed to widen Aram’s smile. “Well, good to hear. The city always needs more good people like you in it. It would be a shame to see you go.”

Something in the way Aram spoke made your pulse quicken. Or maybe how his fingers brushed over your hand as you handed him the documents again for him to look over.

Either way, you were suddenly very aware of how little room there was between the two of you. Even if the desk was large enough to sit such a big man behind it, it felt like Aram was close enough to touch.

And as you took back the paperwork, you thought it was silly of you to think that he was putting his hand directly so that your fingers brushed over his.

It didn’t stop you from feeling how warm his hand was. Nor notice how much larger his hand was compared to yours.

You felt your cheeks flush with heat and you tried very hard to concentrate on the papers in front of you.

It still took an hour to go over everything, but you managed to finish the documents required. Aram took it upon himself to file it away as soon as possible. And asked you a few more questions about the robbery before opening the door of his office for you.

“I’ll be in touch in a few days.” Aram said, leaning against the doorframe. “If we find anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Thank you for your time, Captain Aram.” You said and then added jokingly. “And I’ll be sure to let you know if something else goes missing from my store.”

Aram laughed. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.” Then he glanced to one of the nearby windows as a crash of thunder sounded overhead “Have you got a way of getting back to your store? It’s still pouring outside.”

You grimaced and a shiver ran over you at the thought of the walk back. It was later in the afternoon now. The sun wouldn’t be set yet, but with the dark clouds overhead and closing to sunset, it was already pretty dark outside.

“No. It’s not that far of a walk, though. I’ll be fine.” You lied. And knew Aram would know this was your attempt at being polite and not complaining.

Aram’s warm smile dimmed and he shook his head. “I’m not having you walk home in this. I’ll get someone to drive you back.”

Your eyes widened and you tried to make an excuse that would justify not needing a driver. But Aram caught sight of Smith walking past and called him over.

“Yes, Captain?” Smith said as he approached. Looking between you and Aram worriedly.

“Get a carriage and drive (y/n) back to her store. And no side stops on your way back, got it.” Aram said, his voice harsh with authority as Smith’s confusion turned into something close to amused glee. He nodded and then looked at you.

“Your chariot is this way, ma’am.” He said with a little more bravado than needed. And you looked at Aram with a joking glare.

“You’re really going to subject me to this?” You asked. And Aram’s stern facade broke with a smile.

“I’d rather not hear that you got washed away by a river on your way home. Get her home safe, Smith.” Aram said before closing the door and leaving you to a beaming Smith as you followed him through the House.

“So, what did you and the Captain talk about in there?” Smith asked. Wiggling his shoulders in a teasing manner as he led you out into an enclosed barn connected to the Guard House. Where a carriage was currently being connected to two brown horses.

“He was overseeing the report I needed to fill out about the ring.” You explained. Ignoring the tiny flush of embarrassment that crawled up your neck. “The scribes were busy and he had time.”

Smith blew a harsh breath out of his lips. “Puh-lease, the Captain never has time.” And then so quietly you almost missed it. “But that seems to change for you.”

You chose to ignore him and wait by the House doors while Smith spoke with the person hooking the animals up. He then waved you over and opened the carriage door for you.

“My Lady.” He bowed his head and you tsked playfully at him.

“Stop that. It’s embarrassing enough as it is. Being escorted back home by a guard.” You mumbled as you climbed inside. Which got you a laugh from Smith.

“Come on, enjoy it! How many times have you been safely escorted home like the rich folk? Beat on the roof if you need me to stop for anything, alright?”

Smith closed the door once you were comfortably seated and you heard him clamber onto the front of the carriage.

The carriage itself wasn’t anything extravagant. The seats were plush enough to stop you from sitting on hard wood and there was enough space to fit four people.

It still felt a bit excessive for only you to be in here. But at least you weren’t going to be walking in the rain.

Your body lurched a little as Smith urged the horses into moving. And soon enough the carriage was filled with the deafening roar of rain pelting the roof above you.

You felt bad for Smith sitting up front. You had glimpsed a small canopy over the driver's seat. But that would be very little protection against the storm as it whipped around him outside.

You sighed. Relaxing against the seat as you glanced through the fogged window to the passing streets.

They were mostly empty. Apart from a few store fronts preparing to close for the afternoon. And some carriages that trotted past.

You haven’t gotten to experience a carriage ride in the city yet. You’ve been so busy with the store that any luxuries you usually would have gotten with your money were forgotten. Or spent on the store itself.

It was kind of peaceful watching the city pass you by.

You would definitely be sending another bakery basket to Aram for this. He had enjoyed the first one you sent after he helped keep your store safe last time.

I’m not having you walk home in this.

His words bounced around in your head like an endless echo. And you found yourself smiling.

And the way he had put his hand in the path of yours? It made your heart skip just thinking about it.

You shook your head. Trying to scatter the thoughts that were attempting to wriggle into your mind.

“Oh, stop it.” You sighed to yourself. “He’s just making sure you’re safe. That’s his job after all.”

You knew you wanted it to be a lie the moment you said it.

But you refused to think of any other reason that Aram would be doing this. You didn’t need something like that in your life just yet. You were busy as it was.

But…A small voice whispered. You definitely need something like him. Even only for a night or two.

Your cheeks burned as the thoughts spiraled and you shook your head again. Refusing to let those thoughts get any more traction than they already have.

It…has been a long time. But you were a business woman now. You had more important things at this moment than scratching that itch. Once the store was a little more organized and things calmed down, then maybe, maybe, you’d think about it.

You sat in your hurricane of a mind as Smith drove through your district and finally came to a stop just outside your store.

You went to open the door but Smith was already there. Drenched from head to toe but all smiles, bowing his head dramatically.

“My Lady! A pleasant ride, I hope.”

“Oh my Gods, you poor thing. Get back as quickly as you can before you catch a cold.” You gasped as you slipped out of the carriage. Hurrying to the safety of your store front.

“I’m fine. Get inside! I’ll let the Captain know you’re safely at your castle.” Smith called over the rain. And you didn’t even bother retorting, merely stuck out your tongue at him as you waved him off.

You heard him laugh and watched through your store windows as the carriage pulled away and disappeared into the heavy sheets of rain.

~*~

A few days later, the bell over your door chimed as someone entered. You called out to the customer that you’d be with them shortly and finished what you were doing in the back before greeting them behind your counter.

“Aram!” You beamed as the Guard Captain approached you. “What a surprise! Good news? Or bad news?”

Aram made a face like he was deciding, jokingly clicking his tongue as he leaned his arms on your counter. Crossing them over each other and coming down to your eye height.

“Which do you want first?” He asked.

You pursed your lips, hopelessly ignoring how Aram’s gaze flicked to your mouth before returning to your eyes as you said, “Good news first.”

“We found the woman who stole your items. Your ring is being processed and looked over to ensure it hasn’t been tampered with. It’ll take a few days to get back to you.”

You sighed with relief. “That’s good. But…the bad news?”

Aram’s grin made his eyes crinkle adorably as he shuffled his weight on his feet. He cleared his throat and it felt like he was forcing his gaze to stay on you. “The bad news is that I lost a bet involving the case. And you unfortunately will be put on the spot as I ask you out to dinner.” He cleared his throat again and stood at attention in front of you. Your heart pounded in your chest as he swallowed hard and said. “Would you like to go out to dinner with me?”

It was almost adorable at how worried Aram looked as you stared up at him. And it was even more so when relief washed over his expression as you nodded.

Before you realized you were even replying, you had said yes. You laughed sheepishly, shaking your head. “You lost a bet and you were forced to ask me out to dinner?”

“I wouldn’t say forced. That makes it sound like I didn't want to.” Aram replied. Scratching the back of his neck, under the thick braid of blonde hair. “I want to take you to dinner. I have for a bit now. I just…things got in the way and I wasn’t sure if you would be interested in me and…I’m sorry. I’m rambling.” He cleared his throat again. “This is me asking you to dinner, sincerely.”

“What would have happened if you didn’t?” You asked.

“Probably be called a coward by my men.” Aram replied. “Or someone would have done it for me, I’m sure. Or somehow talked you into asking me out. I don’t know. They’re very nosy. Very much like a bunch of highschoolers.”

“But they gave you an opening to ask me out to dinner. So, I would forgive them.” You said with a chuckle. And Aram visibly relaxed with the sound. “When would you like to set this dinner? I’m free most afternoons. I’m sure it’s your schedule we have to work around.” You said teasingly. And Aram nodded.

“I’ll free up my night next Friday, if that’s ok with you? I know it’s a while away but this week is choked up with work already.” When you nodded, Aram’s smile broadened and your body became heated under his sparkling gaze. You both discussed a place to eat, but since you rarely went out other than cafes and small take-away establishments, Aram promised he’d surprise you with a brilliant place to dine. “I’ll pick you up around seven? If the rain hasn’t stopped by then, I’ll bring a carriage around for us to use.”

You sarcastically rolled your eyes, “Please do not make Smith drive us. That was torture last time.”

Aram laughed but shook his head. “No, no. I won’t be letting those vultures anywhere near our dinner. I promise.”

Once you confirmed again the time and date, Aram excused himself, having to continue his patrol around the district. And the moment he left, your heart soared with excitement at the thought of dinner with Aram.

~*~

Friday couldn’t come any quicker.

The rest of the week fell into a snail like pace, dragging day and night until the morning of your dinner date with Aram.

The rain didn’t subside. Most of the city was now flooded or close to it.

You had braced your store for the worst. Purchasing new tables with waterproofing and protective surfaces, so if the water started to rise and your store was flooded, at least some of your merchandise would be saved.

Coincidentally, as you were unloading the transport carriage that had said furniture, three city guards came over to help unload them.

You didn’t know any of them, but you thought it was sweet that some passing guards saw you and the transport man struggling to move a table, and decided to help.

But that seemed to become a pattern over the course of the week leading to Friday.

You saw more guards than usual in the district and some greeted you as if you knew them. Smith came over to you whenever you were out. Conversing until he needed to leave for his patrol and you needed to return to the shop.

Briar dropped by and returned the ring to you. They was a lot more friendly than the prior meetings you had with them. They actually cracked a few jokes with you.

You finally caved when Yesrie just happened to be in the area on Friday morning. Popping by with a coffee for you. “Are all of you around here because I’m going out with Aram?” You asked. And Yesrie was terrible at feigning ignorance, even if she was joking the entire time she replied.

“You’re going out with my captain? That’s amazing! I didn’t know at all.”

You rolled your eyes and shooed her out of your store. Thanking her for the coffee and company before you needed to get to work.

But finally, the time came to close the store and begin getting ready for your date.

You chose something simple to wear but something to also make you look downright gorgeous. Being in the city had its perks and the ample amount of shops around allowed you to browse and pick something amazing for yourself.

You had half the thought it could be a touch overdressed, but you weren’t sure where Aram was taking you. And you did look good in it! So you wrestled down the nerves and waited for Aram to arrive.

You kept your hands busy with small things in your shop before a heavy knock sounded on your front door.

You quickly opened the door for Aram and he stepped inside wrapped in a thick cloak and hood sprinkled by the rain.

“Damn, look at you, (y/n).” Aram beamed. His eyes didn’t seem to know where to look. They definitely lingered along your chest and hips, but respectfully flicked up to hold your gaze very quickly when he caught himself staring. “I feel a little underdressed now.”

You glimpsed his attire beneath the cloak. Dark dress pants with a deep brown shirt that hugged his large frame snugly. He had decorative leather bracers along his wrists and his hair was neatly bundled up in a collection of braids. Each had small trinkets adorning the strands.

“Nonsense,” You said a little breathlessly. Have you ever seen this man out of uniform? “You look very dashing.”

Your words made his smile crinkle his eyes and he opened his cloak up to you. Nodding to the carriage waiting outside. “I forgot to bring you an umbrella.”

“Ah, yes. I also don’t own one.” You said, hoping the way you moved up beside him didn’t seem too eager.

And you absolutely had an umbrella. But you were not going to miss an opportunity to snugly press yourself against Aram.

Once you were standing against his side, Aram lowered his arm enough that the cloak surrounded you almost entirely. A sweet scent wafted off of him to you and you shivered as your arm brushed against his side.

He was so warm!

Together you exited the store, halting long enough to lock the front and then quickly dash to the carriage. Where a driver was waiting in the rain to open the door for the two of you.

You felt utterly terrible for the man. But as you clambered into the carriage, you caught a glimpse of your driver.

An automaton. A being made of metal and mechanical parts bowed their head as you greeted them. Their clothes were drenched but they didn’t seem to mind as Aram joined you in the carriage, taking the seat next to you, and the automaton closed the door behind him.

“Did you hire a driver for tonight?” You asked. Baffled by the beautiful interior of the carriage. It was much fancier than the one Smith drove you in. And the rain didn’t thunder the roof in this one. You could barely hear it as Aram responded.

“No. This is my carriage. Anthony out there works for me.” Aram said this as if it was a normal occurrence for someone to have an automaton driver. Or their own fancy carriage.

You tried not to balk at his words. Instead made room for him to remove the damp cloak and fold it on the seat across from the both of you.

“I didn’t know being a Guard Captain paid so well.” You teased. Watching Aram as he adjusted his shirt and ensured his bracers were still correctly placed on his wrists. There was a slight scruff along his cheeks and he had replaced the silver caps on his tusks with gold ones.

Damn, he dressed up nice.

Aram smiled and your heart shuddered when he winked at you. “It also pays to have been a successful adventurer beforehand.”

Your eyes widened and Aram laughed as you said, “Wait, you haven’t been a stuck up captain all your life?” Though your words were sarcastic, you couldn’t help but be impressed. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have guessed that was your past. Maybe a soldier of some kind? But not an adventurer.”

“You’d be amazed at how many guards of mine are retired adventurers or travelers looking to settle down. I knew the old captain before he retired. It sped up my promotions, I’ll admit, but I proved myself just like everyone else.” Aram admitted. Relaxing against the plush back seat of the carriage. “Chasing down burglars and walking the streets at night is a much better alternative to dungeon crawling.”

You hummed in agreement. “I do not miss the cold nights or falling asleep hungry. But there was definitely a charm to traveling that the city doesn’t have.”

It was Aram’s turn to agree with a grunt. “I do occasionally miss having the time and freedom to do whatever I want. But I wouldn’t give up my position for anything. Least of all, leave my Guards behind just to go treasure hunting.”

You caught a light twinkling in Aram’s eyes as he spoke. And his smile curled warmly at the corners. It was no secret that Aram was as loyal as any to the Guard, but there was definitely a type of kinship between them all as well.

“That does remind me,” You said, tilting your head teasingly at Aram. “Did you order more guards to patrol my district? I keep tripping over them everytime I leave the shop.”

Aram didn’t look surprised, but he didn’t look pleased about what you said either. “Ah, I was wondering why some of them took longer to return after their patrols.” You waited for Aram to say something else. And when he didn’t, you set a pointed stare on him, urging him to continue whatever thought was bouncing around in his head. Aram chuckled with a half roll of his eyes. “Alright, alright. This is a little embarrassing, but I believe they’re keeping an eye on you for me. On their own accord. I haven’t ordered anymore than the usual patrols in your district. But since…well, they’re a loyal lot and they want to make sure you’re safe.”

You laughed. It made sense why you saw Smith and Yesrie more than anyone else on your streets. “All because you asked me out to dinner?”

“Well…not just because of dinner. But that’s a conversation for later.” Aram said sheepishly. And he expertly changed the subject to your store and how it was faring in the weather. You let the conversation be swept into other topics, but you definitely would hold onto that little kernel of a question for later.

The ride through the city took a little longer than you expected. But soon, the streets outside transformed into a string of establishments on the docks. And the carriage was taken through a route that ran along the rough, crashing oceanside.

The beach looked absolutely ruined from the harsh tides. And the dark gloomy horizon was nothing more than a black screen of storm clouds.

Despite the rain, the street itself was bustling with activity. Lights illuminated the roads brilliantly in warm orange. And all along the sidewalk were canopies and large overhanging roofs to give shelter to the patrons that walked by.

Your carriage was taken to a restaurant that had a grand glass ceiling and a large balcony with many tables seated beneath it. Your table was directly next to the balcony edge, where a shield of magic protected you and Aram from the torrent of rain slashing down from above.

And you found yourself pleasantly warm as Aram pushed in your chair as you took your seat. The business must have heating enchantments placed around to keep their patrons comfortable.

“This place is lovely.” You said as your waiter passed you both a menu. Excusing themselves to give you time to look over their drink choice.

“It’s one of my favorite spots in the city. The ocean view usually is better, but I can at least trust the food will be good.” Aram explained, glancing over the railing to the harsh waves and dark waters. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all.” You quickly reassured him. “I’m just happy to have an excuse to go out. I’ve been putting off going out for dinner for a while. I don’t know alot of people here yet. I wouldn’t know where to start.``

“Well, I hope my choice becomes one of your favorites.” Aram smiled.

The conversation fell into a simple one of work. Aram asked more questions about your store while you prodded about his life in the Guard.

“Things have gotten better over the past few months.” Aram admitted, drawing idle circles on the condensation of his cup of mead. “But I’m sure…activities will pick up closer to the holiday season. I dread to think about that time of year. But it is at least never lacking on slow days.”

“I used to avoid cities during their festival seasons. As backwards as that is for a traveling merchant.” You said in return. “It always caused me more grief than coins. But I guess it’s unavoidable now that I have a permanent spot here.”

~~~~To Be Continued Because my brain is stuck~~~~~~

As always, feedback or suggestions are welcome!!

#monster #monster x reader #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #reader insert #monster writing #writing #male orc x female reader #orc x reader #male orc x reader #male monster x reader #orc boyfriend #fantasy #medieval au #work in progress

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leonw4nter · 25 days

Note

been obsessed with ur fics relating to Taylor’s songs 🥺 can u do one with ‘sl/t’? Just a good ole fluffy fic.

My Cuddly Eldritch Boyfriend!

Eldritch Horror!RE2R!Leon x F!Reader

“Ah yes, my human female companion, I believe I am required to inform you of my whereabouts for today. Since we have run out of the minuscule jar of the chocolate-hazelnut spread you quite enjoy consuming with sliced bread, I had to leave our shared den and purchase some for you. It appears that I have underestimated the price of such delicacy for the bills I have pocketed fell short of a few more dollars,” your boyfriend Leon happily recounted as he showed you the large tub of sandwich spread that he bought earlier today. “Boyfriend”, rather, if he can be considered that.

Leon waltzed into your life quite interestingly, a little more differently than most boyfriends do in the lives of others who have them. You were trapped in an unhappy relationship, the kind where you had to beg to be shown affection and got scolded for buying yourself little goodies like a funny little pond jewelry dish. He was always on his gaming computer or out with his buddies for beer and snacks, yelling at you over the phone whenever you refused to lend him more money. You went home one evening, after a draining workday, to see your “boyfriend” quietly cleaning around the house and stopping to greet you good evening and ask you about your day. It’s quite the contrast to go from an “annoying clingy hoe” to “human female companion” but the latter is leagues better than the other words hurled at you. Leon isn’t even the name of your former boyfriend, wherever he is now; this replacement simply decided to name himself. You know you should be looking for your former partner, wherever he is, but you don’t want to. You’re more than happy with Leon and you wouldn’t want another undeserving girl to fall into the suffocating clutches of your ex.

“A lady has also offered me a small slice of processed meat– a sausage, it is called. Seasoned pork meat rolled into logs, a cut skewered into an infinitesimally slim stake referred to as ‘toothpick’. It is quite delectable, I must admit, but I haven’t any payment in my pockets so I had to politely decline her offer,” he continues recalling. You take out your phone and google a word: “infinitesimally”. This is another of the changes you noticed with your boyfriend: his lexicomane speech; you would never hear words the likes of ‘infinitesimally’ and ‘minuscule’ from him, intelligent phraseology is not in his vocabulary. A few days after the swap of boyfriends, you found yourself having to install a dictionary app on your phone in order to keep up with his sesquipedalian use of words and engage in conversation. You smile, finally spotting the definition of the word: extremely small.

“That’s great, Leon. We still have some sausage in the freezer, though, so I think it’s only right that you didn’t get some coz we might’ve ended up with far too much,” you respond as you set your phone down on the counter. “What brand was it though? I might pick that up for you next time around when I go for groceries.”

“Hm,” he hums in thought.

His human appearance appears to slightly glitch as he delves deeper into his recollections of the day earlier; he appears to have a chromatic aberration, multiple shadows of his head moving about and twitching around in smoky wisps, as several muffled voices of ancient chanting begin to grow a little bit more noticeable in volume. You grow worried yet you stay seated on your chair, carefully observing Leon before anything too out of control and mind-shattering occurs. Thankfully, he finally manages to remember before the voices get too overwhelming for your human mind.

“I believe it was called ‘MorningStar’,” he finally says. He falls silent, head tilting as his face grows expressionless. “Are you alright, girlfriend?”

He steps closer and sits in front of you, back straight and hands in his lap as he continues to observe you thoughtfully, the gears in his head turning to determine how to approach you.

“Oh, yes, Leon. Don’t worry, just zoned out a little. That’s all,” you respond with a forced smile that doesn’t convince him entirely.

“Have you finally observed that I have left the bathroom light bulb switched on during the entirety that I was out purchasing goods to consume?” he quietly asks, voice laced with guilt and shame as he looks at you with something akin to puppy-dog eyes; you didn’t know that eldritch horrors are capable of giving puppy-dog eyes. “I apologize with utmost remorse, my human female mate. In my haste to please you, I have overlooked a step in securing your household utilities.”

You wonder what is the connection between his previous concern for you and the most recent sentence he just uttered then it occurred to you that he wanted to delay admitting to you that he forgot to switch off the lights; Leon must’ve also forgotten that humans don’t have the level of perception as whatever his kind has, or maybe he assumed that you and you alone possessed that ability. You never would have known if he didn’t bring it up to you. It is funny to see this eldritch being that was clearly trying to pass off as human, as if you had the power of the universe in your palm and could so easily kick him out into the streets, a look on his face now reminiscent of a kicked puppy. It appeared as if he shrank into his olive green sweater, hiding into the warm and dark depths that the piece of clothing offered. Now his ashamed aura was seeping into you, making you feel a slight tinge of what he’s feeling.

“Leon, it’s fine, okay? We’re still in one piece and nothing too bad happened. Besides, I have enough money to comfortably pay off utility expenses so there’s nothing much to worry about,” you reassure him with a gentle hand to his firm shoulder, feeling the spot unwind from the tension beneath your warm palm. “That happens to me too and I get frustrated sometimes but now I just laugh at it.”

He lights up again and that aura of despair fizzles away lickety-split. He beams again, a little too widely for what could be considered normal. He continues rambling on about sausages before asking you about your workday and leaning in to listen intently; you talk and talk, he sits and devotes all his attention to you and answers too, from time to time. He’s a lot more engaging and present when it comes to talking about yourself than your former boyfriend; all he’d talk about is himself and how you’re lucky he loves you, the occasional comparison to other girls. When you’re finally finished talking about your day, it’s Leon's turn to talk about his.

You don’t want to tell him that he’s not perfect on trying to pass off as another ordinary human being– he still tends to unhinge his jaw when he gets excited, his form glitches when he’s deep in thought, he refers to you as ‘human female mate’ or ‘human female companion’ or simply ‘girlfriend’ though in a manner free of offensive intentions, he likes to change the shades of his blue irises, and his verbose vocabulary. Other than the multiloquent manner that he converses in, no one seems to pick up on the irregularity of his physical form, not even when there’s faint shadows of his head fluctuating when he thinks; surely he’s travelling to universes beyond human comprehension just to figure out an answer to “what’d you think of the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie?”. You guess that he’s conjuring some form of illusion that mask slip-ups in his form but why this doesn’t apply to you, you’re not exactly sure but you don’t plan on telling him his lapses; you’re perfectly content with him cooling up your drink with his hand alone in a matter of seconds when you’re out together. He’s far from perfecting the image of a totally human boyfriend but you’re slightly positive that he’s the most perfect lover.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“I would like to relish in the amusement of motion pictures with sound alongside you on our couch,” Leon expresses in mild emotion though he seems quite eager to watch movies, just phrased in a more archaic fashion.

“Me too” you respond with a small giggle at his unintentionally goofy personality. “Got a movie in mind?”

“Movie? Ah, yes. The moving images,” he recalls. “I have overheard this title from a young couple I happened to share a bus with, Kate and Leopold, they said. Appertaining to this hearsay statement, it must be a picture that thoroughly imprints itself on the heart and mind.”

“Kate and Leopold?” you say out loud and he nods. “Sure, why not. C’mon let’s head to the living room.”

“Of course,” he responds with an enthusiastic smile as he gets up from his dining room chair and quietly pushes it back before trailing behind you like the lovecraftian horror puppy that he is.

You put on the movie, both settling into a comfortable silence, attention centered on the film on your TV. In the middle of the film, you realize how you are quite near to him yet he does not make advances to touch you as he appears content with your shoulders touching. You sit up, inching closer to his side yet you don’t make this all simultaneous as you don’t want to shock him into discomfort. Much to your pleasant amazement, he not-so-subtly extends his arm behind your neck and rests it there. You look at his head and his face is still trained on Leopold chasing the snatcher, though the tips of his ears are dusted with a faint bloom of pink; who knew that cosmic beings could blush. Now slightly more confident, he slowly tries to urge you closer to the warmth of his side though he’s now hesitant with his actions. You snuggle closer to his side and now his hand is comfortably resting on the side of your arm where his silvery touch sends a flurry of tingles. Leopold and Kate are now sharing a kiss on a rooftop after a waltz to which your heart nearly goes into overdrive; Leon is not faring any better, visibly red-faced and overcome with butterflies that press up against his lungs (if he has any), making breathing feel a little funny. You wonder if he’s mentally replacing the characters with you and him and the image makes him feel madly excited.

“Leon, are you cold?” you ask towards the movie’s nearing end.

“No, but are you?” he counters, turning to face you now.

“Kinda.”

“Would you like me to fetch some for you?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I can get it myself–”

Something heavy and weighted and fuzzy envelopes you from the chest down, placed down by the man beside you.

“What’s this?” you ask in a slightly raised voice.

“A blanket,” he responds in a nonchalant manner.

“Why is it so heavy? I know weighted blankets exist but this one’s a little heavier than what I’m used to…”

“It’s bear fur.”

You fall silent, staring down at the brown fur mass laid above your body before staring back up at him, silently asking if this is his form of a prank. Unfortunately, he is serious about this.

“Um… Leon, I appreciate the blanket but I generally prefer faux fur to actual animal-sourced fur. It’s, you know, more wildlife friendly… yeah, um…”

You need not to say more when the blanket is still brown but is now clearly made of faux fur, having changed it right away without arguments or insults hurled at you. He seems satisfied with his service, adjusting the blanket to cover you up properly without obstructing your view of the movie. You offer to share the blanket but he objects, tomato-faced as he stutters his apology.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

The movie is finished and he smiles, remarking on how the couple was correct about their opinions and recounting some of the lines that stuck to him. He seemed to especially adore the portion where Kate is enchanted by the sight of Leopold on horseback, most excitedly analyzing the scene and going into detail about the look of love and the twinkle of Kate’s eyes before sighing dreamily.

“I wish to one day flawlessly emulate the depth of emotion she captured with only both her eyes, though I am well-aware that this is all expert acting. It would be my pleasure to one day look at you with such adoration as you tell me tales for there is nothing more that I desire than to enlighten you about the boundless worship that I present to you,” he wistfully conveys as he watches you walk around the bedroom before settling down to lay beside him.

You softly giggle, biting your lip as his voice bounces off in the walls of your mind and plays over and over again.

“Thank you. You’re doing a great job at that already honey,” you sincerely respond to him as you slip under the sheets and get snug.

“Your welcome,” he softly murmurs as a dopey smile points the corners of his lips skyward.

You ask if you can switch the bedside lamp off and he nods, the darkness of the room taking over as your eyes adjust to the lack of light. You lay still and silent before quietly wishing him a good night and restful sleep, to which he returns before he shifts and faces his back to you. Sometime in the middle of the night Leon awakens to the warmth and weight of your head and arms on his chest, the sight of you causing a human warmth to bloom where a human heart would be. You are peaceful and delicate, basking in the warmth that his form offered; the fact that you sought him out in your sleep made him feel loved, a feeling he didn’t know he’d grow to constantly crave. He pulls you closer and delicately wraps his arms around you in a protective embrace, a soft purr humming from his chest– an actual purr, like a cat’s. He strokes your hair with a silvery touch, daintily patting strands as he thinks about the fragility of his human and how he’d need to be very careful with them. His silky hands cause you to drift between the world of sleep and waking consciousness, growing more aware of his purr. You’re not new to his purring; he purrs when you two hold hands while running errands together, he purrs when you refer to him as your boyfriend to other people, he purrs when he finds out that you bought him a snack he likes. He has yet to discover that humans do not and cannot purr, that’s why you aren’t returning his physical display of contentedness but he’s satisfied that you’re letting him hold you like this. You don’t mind his purring at all and you’re firm on the decision that you love him and that he loves you back.

NOTE - First off, thank you to the anon who requested this!! I hope this one reached your expectations, even if I did put a little twist to it :)) guys... I think we're back!!! coz I decided to start on this last night at around 11:30 PM and I rlly had my creative juices flowing, like it just occured to me so clearly so now ig I'm going to start quite late into the evening if I'm going to start something new :D this fic is inspired by the eldritch horror boyfriend prompts that I came across on TikTok and also bc I felt like writing Leon rlly poetic and soft tonightt teehee :3 That's it and and I hope you really enjoyed this fic :)) Thank you for reading my works!!!!!!!!!! I <3333 UUUUUU!!!!!!!!!

The dainty chain dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy fluff #resident evil 2 remake #leon kennedy x y/n #fluff #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #re2 #resident evil 2 #re2r #re2 remake #biohazard #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x you

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rekino2114 · 2 months

Text

Gifting the chainsaw man girls a plushie of themselves

A/n: I'm still on vacation and wanted to do a smaller post while i'm free so i saw this prompt around and thought it was adorable, I'll probably do it with more fandoms let me know if you wanna see it

Makima

Thinks it's amazing and will treasure it forever, she specific keeps it on a shelf in her office (most of her subordinates are very confused to see it just sitting there around the paperwork)

She will 100% give you a plushie of yourself to repay you

Might ask you for a pochita plushie to replace the real one since she doesn't want it anymore.

"Oh, It's adorable darling you're so talented, how about I make you one of yourself to match?"

Power

She is confused at first and asks what power (lol) you used to make a mini her but quickly grows to love it.

It's soft and cuddly just like meowy whenever you're not near her you can bet she'll be cuddling those two things to fall asleep.

Definitely brags about it to denji and aki. Where are their small and fluffy versions of them uh?

"*gasp* is that an idol of the great power? Very well I will accept this. T-thank you"

Himeno

Thinks it's the cutest thing ever and immediately hugs you and peppers you In kisses as thanks

Will always keep it on her shoulder or in view in general hoping that someone asks her about it so she can start ranting about how wonderful her partner is

You have found her multiple times passed out drunk hugging the plushie and mumbling about how much she loves you

"Oh my God! Is that me? Thanks so much it's soooo cute, well not as cute as the original of course~"

Kobeni higashiyama

An incredibly blushy mess whenever you give her the plushie but thinks it's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for her.

It kinda becomes a comforter for her. Whenever she's more nervous or sad than usual, she hugs the plushie and thinks of you, and it makes her feel at least a bit better

She feels kinda bad about not giving you anything back so she'll probably save the small amount of money she has to buy you a plushie you like.

"O-oh, that's really cute. w-wait, is that m-me? I love it a lot. Thank you so so much"

Quanxi (and her harem)

You immediately got tackled in a hug by 4 of your girlfriends when you showed them plushies of every one of them, quanxi just looked at hers for a while before smiling and joining the group hug

Might genuinely stab someone if they say anything remotely negative about the plushie

She works hard with her girlfriends to make you a plushie of yourself since they thought it wasn't fair that you were the only one in the relationship without one.

"Eh, it really does look like me, you did an amazing job on the girls too, don't worry I'll keep it close at all times"

Asa mitaka

Genuinely can't fathom that you would put effort into making something so cute of her out of everyone and the fact that you gifted her that makes her fall in love with you even more

Always keeps it with her mostly in her bag at school, similarly to kobeni it helps calm her down whenever she's having a bad day, it's a reminder that there is someone willing to love her this much

Yoru once tried to draw the scars on it to make it a plushie of her (just to mess with asa) but thankfully she took control in time

"Wait, seriously? That's....for me? Wow, i- I don't know what to say. Just thank you so much"

Yoru

Acts like she doesn't care that much but actually thinks it's really cute, asa often wakes up finding herself hugging it, courtesy of yoru not being able to sleep without it and taking over during the night.

Definitely brags to asa about it (not realizing it's technically a plushie of both of them)

Might ask you to add some weapons to the plushie to make it more interesting

"Hm? What's that? a plushie? I guess it does kinda resemble me, thanks it is kinda nice"

Fami

She might seem as indifferent as usual but genuinely loves the gesture and thinks it's adorable

She brings it with her whenever she eats (which is most of the time) she even puts a little bib on it, it's really cute to watch

Feels really bad when she gets it dirty (mostly when she's eating) so she'll try cleaning it even if she has no idea how

"I see, so it's a plushie of me. How cute. Thank you, you did a great job"

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Note

Great update, thank you for feeding us we love Temptation Danny 😩 I was thinking of a request following up with it. Daniel loves providing and taking care of the reader, especially post injury, but one day she overhears one of his friends called her a gold digger and she’s hurt by it but doesn’t tell Daniel because his friends are important to him and she doesn’t want to cause problems. So when she needs to buy or get something essential, perhaps she asks Lando to get it for her and she’ll pay it back. Lando refuses and tells her there’s no need to and gets it for her but when Daniel finds out, since there was no bank statement, he loses it because he’s the only man that should take care and provide for you. He gets furious at his friend for making you think you’re not worth it :(

The Taste of Temptation || DR3 {5}

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, soft Danny, sexual themes WC: 2.6k F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six Snapshots One || Two || Three || Four || Five

The weather was terrible for the start of summer and you were finally reminded of why you needed to replace your car that broke down months ago and was towed to the wreckers. Walking was usually your preferred way to move around the small city but with the rain outside growing heavier you would have to borrow Daniel’s Porsche, since you still had some shopping to do for his birthday. Thankfully he was more than happy to have you drive his car and already had the keys hanging from his fingers when you finished putting your makeup on in the bathroom.

“I’ve been meaning to take you to the dealership, kitten,” he apologised with a kiss. “We’ll go tomorrow and you can choose whatever car you want.”

His smile grew at the excitement on your face and you threw your arms around his neck. “Thank you,” you grinned between kisses.

“Of course, anything for my girl.” He unwrapped your arms before he was tempted to pull you back into the bathroom for a quickie but with his friends waiting for him in the living room he wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of hearing your sweet cries. “Don’t get anything heavy, I don’t need you hurting yourself just when you are healed.”

“Yes, sir,” you saluted, smirking when you saw the look in his eyes before you escaped the bedroom.

“-talk to him, she’s obviously using him-”

“-total gold digger-”

The conversation paused as you stepped into the room and you barely breathed as their condemnation settled over you. Determined to make sure they didn’t see the affect their words had, you plastered a smile on your face and asked if they needed anything while you were out.

Your handbag felt heavier than usual as you walked to the garage and climbed into the Porsche. The Hermes bag had been a gift from Daniel for your first anniversary and the LV wallet inside was another. You had never asked for them, but suddenly you felt guilty for having them. Even the key in your hand suddenly felt like a lump of hot coal, hurting the longer you held it.

Grabbing your phone, you climbed out of the car and started your journey on foot.

“Lando?” you choked as you stepped out in the rain, making your way to the city centre on foot. “Can I ask a huge favour?”

“You should just ignore them,” Lando said as he pulled his hoodie higher to fight the rain and followed you through the car park.

“But they are his friends.”

Lando screwed up his face. “Are they? Because if Max spoke shit about the girl I love then I would have to reconsider that. It’s just not their place to comment. Plus, not to flex or anything, but we kind of get paid pretty well. It’s nice to have someone to spend it on since we are pretty much too busy for 10 months of the year.”

You had heard the argument before. The drivers loved to spoil their girlfriends and you had enjoyed it up until now. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Lando sighed and nodded reluctantly at your pitiful pout. “Of course I’ll help you, I just wish you didn’t feel the need to have to.”

“I’ve been meaning to get a new car anyway, I just don’t have all of the money on me at this moment.”

Your savings had swelled since Daniel covered all the bills and had given you cards linked to his bank accounts for anything else you might need, but it still wasn’t enough to buy a car outright and you didn’t want to have to go through the bank process to get a loan.

“I promise it won’t take long to pay you back” you said before hugging him. “Thank you.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to.” You started to argue and he gave up knowing you weren’t going to stop. “Fine. Just pay it back as you can, there’s no rush.”

The Mazda 3 was nothing fancy, and certainly nothing as pretty as the Porsche you had become used to driving, but the hatchback was only a couple of years old and had low mileage. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s…no comment.”

“It’s cute, and you drive a friggin Fiat!”

“That’s unique,” Lando corrected as you pulled the price sticker off the window. “This is something my grandma would drive, and it has a three star safety rating.”

“I only drive around the city so it’s not like I’ll be going more than 30 mph.”

“Well it beats your old piece of crap,” he conceded with a smile to soften the blow.

“Wow, that makes me feel much better.” You opened the driver's seat and grimaced at the overpowering smell of faux cherry fragrance. “Want a ride home?”

His nose twitched at the heavy scent and he shook his head. “I think I’d rather walk on this fine day. Put your windows down a bit before you get high on - whatever that is.”

You took his advice and leaned towards the fresh air from the window as you made your way to the shops before heading home. Daniel was already in the garage when you arrived, a look of confusion on his face as he stood at the hood of his car, leaning against it with crossed arms as he watched the unfamiliar car park in your reserved spot.

“What’s this?” he asked as he opened your door, his brows lifting at the cherry bomb that invaded his nostrils.

Biting your lip, you hadn’t been prepared to see him so soon - thinking you could have carried the shopping bags upstairs without him even noticing you hadn’t taken the Porsche. “My car.”

“Your…car?” he confirmed as he ran his thumb over his lip and circled the compact vehicle. Returning back to your door, he pulled his phone out and checked his bank account, scrolling through the transactions and failing to find the car’s purchase. “Tell me you didn’t waste your money on this, kitten?”

“Not exactly,” you murmured under your breath, knowing lying about it would only be worse. “I borrowed some money.”

“Why would you do that when I could literally buy you any car? Even a fucking Bugatti, if that’s what you wanted.” He kicked the front tire and it shook the whole car, the suspension creaking with it. “Is it even roadworthy? You know what, you’re not driving this.”

“It’s my car, Danny.”

“And you’re my fiancée,” he growled as he took your hand and looked at the diamond ring on your finger. “I’m not gonna have you driving around in a tin can. We’ll go to the bank tomorrow and sort out the loan. You’ll be paying high interest rates for no fucking reason.”

You looked down at your feet and a moment later he curled a finger under your chin until your head was back and he could look into your guilty eyes. “I’m not going to like this, am I?” His hand fell away to land on his hip and he pinched the bridge of his nose with the other as he exhaled heavily. “Where did you get the money, kitten?”

“Somewhere that doesn’t charge interest…”

You could see his chest rising with the deep breaths he was taking to stay calm before he asked through gritted teeth. “Lando? Fuck, I don’t know if I want to hug him or hit him.”

His arms fell slack at his side and his eyes turned down as his fingers itched to reach out and touch you but he held back and asked quietly, “Did I do something wrong?”

The sound you made was unintelligent as you were blindsided by the question. It was something between a ‘huh’ and ‘what’ yet somehow neither. Like a guppy fish, your mouth opened and closed silently before you could even fathom an answer.

“No, god no,” you stammered as you stepped into the wall of his body and wrapped your arms around his waist, wishing he would return the embrace. “Danny, you haven’t done anything wrong. You are the most amazing man I know and you always take care of me, more than I deserve.”

“What does that mean?” he asked as he frowned at the self-depreciation and his instincts went wild. He leaned back against the car and spread his legs as he pulled you between them so you were standing eye to eye. “Kitten, what did you mean by ‘more than you deserve?’ Has someone said something?”

You shook your head quickly but his arms tightened around you, pinning you to his chest so you couldn’t look away. You could feel a heart slamming against its cavity walls but it was impossible to tell whose it was as his eyes wildly searched yours for an answer.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered as you cracked under his stare. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I swear, but I heard Leroy and Davis talking before I left and…you treat me so well, you absolutely spoil me, baby. I just don’t want you to think I’m ever using you for your money, or your car or anything.”

His hold on you relaxed enough that you could bury your face in his chest but you could feel his hands shaking where they splayed across your spine. “They said you were using me?” he asked quietly, the volume doing little to hide the seething tone.

“And…that I was…a gold digger.” You screwed your eyes shut waiting for the explosion to come but his face was blank. He cleared his throat and with a nod he stood up a little too calmly, slipping his fingers into yours and leading the way to the elevator. “But your presents,” you said as he took your keys and locked the car.

“Later, we have a dinner reservation.”

Daniel was calm, too calm, as he sat beside you in the waterfront restaurant with his hand resting on your thigh. He smiled at the jokes, chatted with his friends and kissed your cheek until the plates were cleared away. Rising with his flute of champagne, he called for a toast and the large table of family and friends fell silent.

For a few seconds all that could be heard was the muted sounds of the kitchen behind closed doors and the rain falling on the roof.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming and celebrating my latest lap around the sun. It’s been quite the year: I’ve made some new friends, started a few side ventures, and best of all, I was lucky enough to start calling this beautiful woman my fiancée.”

He smiled at you as he took a sip of his drink before he turned that smile on everyone seated around the room.

“I’d like to say I’m maturing with age, but I’m not so sure about that, but I am getting wiser. Something I have learned is who my true friends are, the ones there for me through thick and thin, always there with support when I need it. You’re the real MVP’s.”

He raised his glass to Scotty seated on his other side and they shared a chuckle before he looked further down the table to the two guys who had arrived early and spent the afternoon at your apartment.

“Unfortunately, I have also learned some harder lessons this year, like when I have outgrown the company I keep.” He was sedate as he ran his finger around the rim of his glass before putting it down. His fingers spread across the tablecloth as he leaned forward and pinned them with a glare. “I welcomed you into my house, but you can show yourselves out.”

The table was deathly quiet as everyone looked between Daniel and the men he was obviously staring at.

“The fuck, mate?” Leroy exclaimed. “We’ve been friends for years.”

“And they were good while they lasted, but you fuck with my future when you call my fiancée a gold digger. That’s where I draw the line.”

“Oh, shit,” Scotty muttered under his breath. “That’s fucked.”

You watched as all eyes turned to you and you sank lower in your chair at the attention laden with pity by most of them, certainly the F1 drivers and Daniel’s family.

“She’s using you, mate, you just can’t see it,” Davis said as he shifted under the cold glare. “Marry her and you might as well donate half your money to charity.”

You saw Lando kick someone under the table before grabbing Pierre as he bumped the table, ready to stand up.

“Just fuck off, cunt,” Daniel said with a short laugh before he took your hand and pulled you to your feet and into his arms. “And anyone else that thinks the same can leave now too.”

No one else rose when Leroy and Davis did, tossing their napkins down angrily. They shook their heads like they wanted to say more but wisely kept their mouths shut this time.

“Oh, and since you’re both so worried about how I spend my money,” Daniel called out. “I cancelled your plane tickets and hotel rooms that I paid for. Wouldn’t want anyone to think you were using me.”

The atmosphere had thankfully lightened after the strange toast and quick departure and soon the party moved to the club next door. There was already a house DJ there but Martin was going to be taking over for most of the night since his sets were unbeatable.

Taking a breather from dancing, you sat on Danny’s lap, his arms automatically circling your waist as he laughed at something Max said.

“Max had a really good idea,” he said in your ear after the other Red Bull driver left to dance with Kelly. “He’s gonna buy a shitbox too and we are going to get one of those giant blow up balls to play demolition car soccer.”

“But it’s my baby,” you pouted as his laugh warmed your cheeks.

“You’ve had it for six hours, kitten, I don’t think you are that attached,” he teased between the soft kisses he peppered across your neck. “I’ll get you a better baby, a bigger one that’s safer, maybe a tank.”

You giggled at his silliness and combed your fingers through his hair as you bared more of your neck to him and moaned, “I love you. Terrible toasts and all.”

“Love you too, but that was a great toast. I fucking nailed it.” He nipped your shoulder and the crowded club seemed to fall away as he stole all your attention, from his palms sliding up your thighs to his beard tickling your skin.

“I don’t think Scotty will be keen on letting you make one at his wedding now,” you said with a shiver of delight when his fingers reached the edge of your panties.

“As long as I can toast to my gorgeous bride at ours, that’s the one that really matters.”

He pulled back to grin as he saw how affected you were not just by his touch but his words. You always had the same dreamy smile on your face when he mentioned the wedding and he always found a reason to bring it up.

“I suppose you might be able to convince me,” you teased before standing up with your finger hooked between the buttons on his shirt. He downed the last of his drink and followed as you led him down the stairs of the mezzanine floor and into the dark corner beneath them.

Your back pressed to the wall as he hiked your dress up and hid your body with his. “You want me to convince you right here, kitten,” he chuckled as he fingers pushed your panties aside and found you already wet for him.

“No,” you moaned against his lips. “I just want you to fuck me.”

Click here for the next part.

#the taste of temptation #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo fanfic #f1 smut #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction

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ailithnight · 2 years

Text

*Whoops. Forgot to title and link previous chapters. Fight me, I just woke up.

A King in Arkham

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

"Tim. Tim you have to get me copies of this footage." Tim is not surprised by the request. In fact, the 'Sure' is already on his tongue when he pauses, a thought creeping into his head, seeded by the notification Tim really hopes Jason isn't paying attention to in the bottom corner of the computer.

"One condition."

"Fuck you, I knew you'd want something. What? You want my cookies? Coffee? For Red Hood to go on camera singing praises for Red Robin? I'll fuckin do it. Just send me the god damn clips."

"Nope, nope, and tempting, but no."

"Name your price, Replacement. I'll pay it."

"Swear you aren't going to go rush in and extract the kid until we're done investigating him."

"What!? Fuck that! I told you was pulling him out next chance I get!" Tim lets himself groan in annoyance.

"Look, anyone that could do that-" Tim gestures to the part of the screen where they'd pulled up The Joker's medical reports following the incidents, showing pictures and descriptions of just how thoroughly Daniel had beat his ass 3 weeks in a row, "without getting so much as a scratch or fucking bruise in return, has got something going on. There may well be a reason they sent him to Arkham!"

Jason's eyes narrow at Tim as he all but growls, "No reason is good enough to put-"

"A fifteen year old in Arkham. I fucking know that, Hood. But we still need to know exactly who we're dealing with when we get him out. What his deal is. If his dangerous. What the hell was so wrong with him that someone thought it was a good idea to stick him in there to begin with."

"He could get hurt while we're sitting on our asses trying to satisfy fuckin Bat paranoia!"

"He took down the Joker! Clearly he can take care of himself."

"Then who has been hurting him!?"

"Maybe him fucking self!" Tim knew he was pushing it. The green growing stronger in Jason's eyes was proof. But he needed to buy them some time before Jason made thing exponentially harder by storming the castle. Still, now he needed to calm Jason down before he went into a full rage. So Tim held up his hands placatingly.

"A few days, Jay. Just give us a few more days. I'm already almost through the Arkham reports, and there are only a handful from Chicago and Oracle is probably going to announce any minute now that she got through the communications blackout around his home town. We just need a bit more time to sort out intel so that we actually know how to help him once we get him out."

Finally, after a tense 34 seconds, green fades back into blue and Jason let's out a heavy sigh.

"Fine. But I get to tell the Bat about Daniel's discipline slips. Wanna see his fuckin face when I do."

"Deal." Tim hurriedly puts a comm in as Jason watches with narrowed eyes.

Batman.

Red Robin. Ready to fill me in?

Not yet, you're about to be busy. I isolated a pattern earlier. Exactly 15 minutes before the locks malfunction, there's been a strange power surge. Always written off. But the surge doesn't seem to be coming from the grid. And like I said, exactly 15 minutes later is when the locks malfunction.

Jason huffs as he catches on. Apparently he hadn't thought to question why Tim was so desperate to buy time before.

Robin responds, since he's on stakeout with Bruce. Mostly because Bruce won't let him watch the asylum alone. Much as the kid hates it, the rest of the family agrees. It's only a matter of time before someone in max security manages to take advantage of theses malfunctions. So far Croc is the only one who had, though thankfully he's not one to start shit on his own. But with Joker, Scarecrow, and TwoFace all inside; any one of them, or god forbid all three, could make for a real bad situation.

Tt. So you can tell before a malfunction happens.

Think so. Last power surge was 8 minutes ago.

And you are only telling us now, why Drake?

Codenames.

Cause he spent those 8 convincing me not to go get our kid out yet.

6 minutes. See if you can stop things before they start.

I'm not far out. Want me to join you?

Tt. I doubt we'll need your assistance, Signal. We shall be done before you get here.

No wait. Signal, head in. See if you can get a read on 26B.

You think he might be meta?

Hood?

Jason glares at Tim betrayed.

"I wanted to see his fuckin face."

Tim just waves him off.

"They need to know. You tell them or I do."

Boys

Jason scowls, but relents.

He put the Joker in the infirmary on his 1st, 7th, and 15th days there. All 3 times took no damage himself. Feral child had to be pulled off and still didn't stop struggling till the clown was out of sight.

All 3 assaults followed by panic attacks, though whether about the Joker himself or what Daniel had done to him, we don't know yet.

The comms were silent for a moment.

A 15 year old...

Did what you've never had the balls to old man.

...I've fought the Joker.

Daniel hits first.

Hnn

I will admit, it is impressive that he can take the Joker down alone. Perhaps he will make for a worthy brother after all.

4 minutes.

We're moving in. Thank you Red Robin, Hood.

The fuck are you thanking me for?

For helping. And giving us time to work this out.

ETA 7 minutes out. Be with you shortly.

The advanced warning proved invaluable for Batman and Robin. After alerting the chief of security of their supposed pattern, he had guards already in motion when the doors swung open. Batman took a perch to watch for max security escapees while Robin assisted the guards in keeping inmates corralled. Many didn't even bother to leave their designated areas, having already seen the Bats in the building.

No sign of any max security inmates. Normally, Batman would find this concerning. And while he did file it away to ponder later why no one from max security ever seemed to make it out of that wing, for today he counted the blessing that he would not have to try to keep Robin safe while dealing with someone like the Joker.

Batman tracked motion through the crowds, watching as a black mop of hair moved, seemingly otherwise unnoticed, through the sea of people. He thought to move in to direct the person back towards where people were being herded to, but the small figure merely walked towards the B wing and entered one of the far cells. That gave Bruce a sneaking suspicion of which patient that was. He moved to get a closer look as Signal swooped in.

"Where is he?"

"I believe he just went into his cell. This way." Batman led Signal to the cell he'd seen that tiny person enter. It was indeed 26B and there was indeed a small, too small, frail looking boy lying on the bed there. A red blotch had appeared under his left eye even though Bruce was certain there had been no injury there as the boy had crossed the hall.

Signal froze beside him, breath stuttering. The boy briefly glanced at them through the corner of his eye, mouth twitching into a brief frown. Then his eyes turned back to the ceiling and his face smoothed out. Bruce couldn't help but reach out.

"Hello." The boy said nothing. Signal opened and closed his mouth, seeming to try to say something, but unable to get words out. Batman wondered what he must be seeing. "You seem hurt. Do you need help?" Eyes flickered back to him and away just as quickly.

"Nothing you can help with Mr. Batman." And oh, how Bruce hated the kid's voice. So quiet and so so hollow. Bruce's mind flashed to his children, imagining any them speaking with such emptiness. His heart clenched, wondering what could have happened to this boy to have snuffed the life out of him so young.

Duke found his voice again, just as the doors buzzed and swung shut again.

"What are you?" Bruce frowned, looking at his latest. Who was looking, as Bruce tracked his gaze, not at Daniel but at the space just above him. Daniel himself seemed to take interest all of a sudden, breaking away his upward gaze to roll his head and look at them. Confusion plain on his face, the first hint of life shining dimly in his eyes.

"Signal? Signal, what do you see?" Batman asked. Robin materialized beside them. The daytime hero stepped forward, then back, light sparking and fizzling around his fingertips.

"There's something in there with him."

Daniel looked back up, where Signal still had his gazed trained on something Batman couldn't see. Even Robin seemed confused, though he no doubt trusted Signal's meta sight.

"Don't worry," Daniel murmured, "S'just a ghost. She can't hurt you."

This 'ghost' seemed unhappy either with the teen's words or this turn of events. Daniel's head snapped back to the side again, causing Batman and Signal to wince while Robin watched stoically. 4 red scratches appeared on Daniel's right cheek, as though he had been backhanded by someone with clawlike nails. A light chill brushed through him and Signal tensed, then relaxed, his gaze finally turning from the emptiness above Daniel to the boy himself. Batman took that as a sign that the... entity, was gone.

Daniel did not react to the obvious abuse from an invisible assailant. He mechanically turned his head back, once more dead and glazed eyes returning to the cracks in the ceiling of his cell. "You should go now. The guards will come around soon to make sure I'm still here."

Bruce wanted so badly to say 'Don't worry, we'll get you out of here.' But Batman was more restrained than that. He would get the child out. But he would have a plan first. For now, Bruce placed a hand each on the shoulders of Duke and Damien, guiding them away. Only when they were back outside did Bruce let them go. Only when they were perched on a rooftop half a block away did Batman pause.

"Robin, report."

"No escaped inmates and no sign of any from maximum security."

"Good. Signal, any information on what you saw in there." Duke rubbed at his eyes.

"A ghost, I guess? I don't know. It was weird. She didn't really have an aura. It was more like, an absence of aura. Like she was a black hole, drawing all the light in."

Even behind the domino, Bruce could tell Damien rolled his eyes.

"And what of the patient, Thomas? Was he not the one you were sent to look at?" Batman bit back the reprimand for codenames, more interested in Signal's response. Signal seemed to think for a moment, then shook his head.

"He definitely had a pretty distinct aura. It... felt powerful. But it looked weak. Dim. When the ghost... struck him, it flared up a bit, but died back down almost instantly. I... I get the feeling he was holding it back. Almost like he was afraid of it. Of himself."

"Hnn. Good job Signal. Robin. You two are welcome to head back to the cave. I'll take the rest of this Arkham shift."

At that moment, the comms crackled to life.

Actually B, you may want to come in, also. Arkham should be fine. And I found why they sent the kid there.

#A King in Arkham #DP x DC #my writing #In case ya can't tell #I have no idea what the layout of Arkham is supposed to be #So I'm just kind of imagining a tv stereotypical prison layout #Two story room with double layers cells #Congregating area in the middle #Max security off in its own section #Probably not at all what Arkham is supposed to look like #But I reckon the details can be a bit nebulous for the sake of fanfiction

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youcouldmakealife · 4 months

Text

SOTM: Robbie, Playoff Willy, various Scouts; pull yourself up by the jockstrap

For the prompt: A little more of Robbie's time with the Scouts - Cup party, with the Tweedles and Willy, maybe Julius & Erin. Your choice - just more of that.

(I'm not here, but the tumblr queue is! Well. Probably.)

“Now, I know I have no right to talk about maturity,” Robbie says, then promptly ducks the jock that comes flying at him, the rest of his message going undelivered.

“No throwing shit at teammates’ heads during playoffs!” Playoff Willy yells.

“It wouldn’t hit him in the head if he wasn’t so short!” Bender says. “I misjudged!”

“Misjudging is not acceptable during playoffs!” Playoff Willy says. Robbie wants to write a book of his sayings. Like Sun Tzu but for maladjusted athletes who don’t know how to lose. Which is pretty much all pro athletes, in Robbie’s experience, so it might even sell.

Robbie nudges at the limp jock with his socked foot. It looks sad. Defeated, even. “Bro, when was the last time you replaced this?”

Bender looks to Playoff Willy, like he’s waiting for Robbie to get yelled at, though Robbie’s pretty sure Playoff Willy cares a hell of a lot less about feelings than he does about potential head injuries. Or like — anything. The only feelings Playoff Willy cares about are like, motivation. And probably bloodlust.

“Pike has a point,” Playoff Willy says. “That shit is falling apart.”

“But I wore it in!” Bender says. “None of the other ones fit right.”

Robbie pokes it a little further from him. The visitor’s room floor is sketchy as fuck, but he doesn’t think he can do the thing any damage at this point.

The elastic snaps. Well, snaps is a strong word. The elastic’s too damn worn for that, so it’s less a dramatic death and more feebly giving up on the last thread of life remaining.

“Whoops,” Robbie says. Maybe he should have considered that the thing was an antique before he started poking at it.

“Willy, look what he did!” Bender says. “That was my lucky jock!”

“How lucky can it be when we just lost the game?” Playoff Willy growls.

Bender is, thankfully, smart enough to realize that’s a rhetorical question.

“Still up a game, Playoff Willy,” Money says, and Playoff Willy shoots him a glare, but doesn’t say anything.

Robbie’s still impressed that Money’s got the balls to call him Playoff Willy to his face, and even more impressed that Playoff Willy lets him. Everybody knows Money is his favorite, but as the playoffs have gone on, that seems to buy less and less leeway. Money told him from the get-go that the longer the playoff run, the worse Playoff Willy got. Robbie didn’t really believe him, or maybe didn’t want to, but he’s got to say, Playoff Willy during the Conference Finals is a whole different beast than the first round. Emphasis on beast, there. If he mauled someone Robbie wouldn’t even be surprised. Unless they were playing well, he guesses.

Thankfully, Robbie’s been doing okay for himself, shutting down the guys he needs to shut down, so he’s also currently in Playoff Willy’s good books, at least enough that he doesn’t fear mauling.

“I’ve had that for eight years,” Bender moans.

“That’s fucking gross, dude,” Robbie says. “Genuinely. I did you a favor.”

Bender throws a glove at him. Thankfully, it doesn’t appear to have been around for two presidential terms.

“If I have to leave next game because I got nut shot, that’s on you, Pike,” Bender says.

“Bro, if you go onto the ice without a jock Playoff Willy will cup check you himself,” Robbie says.

He winces, but either Playoff Willy didn’t notice the slip, or Robbie’s earned even more grace than he thought.

“He isn’t wrong,” Playoff Willy says. “Normally I wouldn’t, since it’s a chickenshit play, and an auto major, but I don’t think they really care if it’s your own teammate.”

“Refs won’t give a shit,” Scratch says. “Social media probably won’t shut up about how he slept with your wife, though.”

“I can make it look like an accident,” Playoff Willy says. Robbie does not doubt him even a little.

His brow furrows a moment later. “I don’t have a wife,” he says, sounding almost unsure.

That would be kind of suspicious, but Robbie’s learned that’s just how Playoff Willy talks about anything non-hockey related, like first he has to go consult with normal Willy, who’s being held hostage somewhere inside him.

“That could not matter less to idiots on twitter,” Scratch says.

“Last round they said I slept with your wife,” Money says.

“Why did you sleep with my wife?” Playoff Willy asks, then, after checking with kidnapped Willy again, “You’re openly gay.”

“Like I said,” Scratch says. “Could not care less about your actual relationship status. Or sexuality, apparently.”

“Scratch is still mad about it,” Joey says.

“I’m not mad about it,” Scratch says. “I just think people should do basic—“

“I fixed it!” Bender says. “I fixed it, guys! All it needed was a little super glue.”

Robbie has such a bad feeling about this. Bender’s honestly lucky his balls have survived this long: that elastic was literally holding on by a thread.

“You don’t want kids, right?” Robbie asks.

“Oh yeah,” Bender says. “Not quite yet, but Lacey and I are—“

“Oh, give me that fucking thing,” Playoff Willy says.

Super glue isn’t going do shit to save Bender’s jock after Playoff Willy and a pair of scissors get through with it.

“Have some respect for your testicles,” Playoff Willy hisses, and then marches the remains of Bender’s jock to the trash can.

That one's an instant classic. Robbie is adding it to the book of Playoff Willy for sure.

“That’s one for the book of Willy,” Harvard says. Obviously Robbie didn’t need telling, but he does appreciate that it’s becoming a collaborative effort.

“Hah,” Robbie says. “Testicles.”

“Willy,” Harvard agrees.

“What are you two giggling about?” Playoff Willy growls.

“Nothing,” they chorus, ducking their heads so they don’t accidentally meet Playoff Willy’s eyes. That’s a mistake Robbie isn’t making again.

“It was so comfortable,” Bender mumbles. “Like wearing nothing at all.”

“Yeah, buddy, we know,” Scratch says. “That was kind of the problem.”

“So comfy,” Bender whispers.

Robbie’s never been to a funeral for a jock before, but he guesses there’s a first time for everything.

“R.I.P.,” Money says. “Like rest in peace. Not like rip. Though that is what you did.”

“Before getting hacked to pieces by a madman,” Scratch says.

“May you find peace and serenity in—“

“What the fuck are you guys doing?” Playoff Willy says.

“Scatter!” Money says, and they all flee. Well, Robbie doesn’t. Not because he doesn’t want to, but he’s fucking exhausted. Plus, he blocked a shot last game, and anything faster than an amble makes his leg throb like a bitch.

“What the fuck were they doing?” Playoff Willy asks.

“Funeral for the jock we murdered,” Robbie says. Well, Robbie’s crime was jockslaughter at most, but that’s not important.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Playoff Willy says, then bows his head, eyes closed. He doesn’t move for a good minute, and Robbie’s shifting uncomfortably, wondering if he's finally snapped just like the jock did, and if getting Money will help or just make it worse.

He startles when Willy speaks, murmuring, “Sorry I killed you.”

Presumably — hopefully — he’s talking to the jock, rather than saying it to Robbie just before he kills him. Robbie reminds himself he’s safe. He blocks shots.

“It was for his safety, and the greater good,” Playoff Willy says. “Thank you for your years of service.”

He opens his eyes then, and Robbie accidentally meets his eye.

Shit. He wasn’t supposed to do that. He doesn’t think he was supposed to see that either.

“I won’t tell anyone about this,” Robbie says.

Playoff Willy’e eyes narrow.

“Because there’s nothing to tell,” Robbie says.

“You’re a quick learner, Lombardi,” Playoff Willy says. “I like that about you.”

“I block shots too,” Robbie says, just to make sure Playoff Willy remembers his utility.

“You block shots too,” Playoff Willy murmurs, then nods to himself.

“Integral part of the team,” Robbie says, then, aware he’s over-selling it, he awkwardly shoots Playoff Willy two thumbs up.

Playoff Willy’s brow furrows, then, after a long consult with the normal Willy tied up in the basement of his brain, he gives Robbie two thumbs up back.

#fic snippet #SOTM #robbie lombardi #tate williams #joey munroe #nick angelopoulos

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year

Note

Just went through all your genshin android doll au and now I'm. Thinking.

A reader who works with young kids in some capacity, maybe a teacher. Buys a second hand Albedo bot (because lord knows they dont make enough for a brand new one) with some bugs. It's not quite "isolate you from friends and family" levels and more... Clinginess. Anxiety when you need to leave for an errand. But he needs to stay home while you're still fixing him up with YouTube how to videos, just in case.

He has many quirks still remaining by the time hes able to join the classroom, but they're completely harmless. His tendency to make too much or too little eye contact, trailing after you like a duckling for the first few weeks, rocking and clicking his tounge(? Voice box?). But these are all traits you've seen before in your own kids, and his body language isn't something that needs to be fixed. It's helpful for some of your students to open up and express themselves, when they see an adult figure like them.

But of course, he still gets rather lonely. He wants to take care of you when your home, it's how he keeps your attention. He gets irritable if he's idle for too long. So you pick up a Klee model since he gets along so well with kids, and they're both models approved to used in classrooms. She's more then energetic enough to keep him busy, and they get along like bread and butter. Or a house on fire. You still have to buy second hand after all, and Klee came with some fixations. But thats nothing an equipped science bot can't handle, Albedo keeps her satisfied with science experiments. You buy another fire extinguisher just to be safe.

It isn't until you're fixing up a Albedo you got at a steal (free99) from the seller who gave you Albedo and Klee that you realize you've become somewhat of a hobbyist. This one will probably be your last permenant bot, considering his higher needs, but you've gotten quite good at fixing up quirky models. This Albedo reverted to his beta personality that had been left in some forgotten folder, and no one could quite get him to go back. But thats not your goal.

You patch some of the more... Aggressive tendancies and bugs, and leave the personality itself in tact. This gains you quite a bit of favour with your new companion, and he's quick to fall into your daily life. He exhibits some... Jealous habits with your original Albedo, picking on him and trying to one up him any chance he has. But thankfully Klee and the classroom is something they can both agree on, so it rarely extends past an (usually) innocent rivalry.

Sorry for the surprisingly long ask, but androids are one of my favorite tropes!! And Albedo (and his double) are one of my favorite characters... Please enjoy my ramblings

tw - unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, all albedos ini this scenario are extremely questionable.

dkljfdkdjksdjfksfsdjfsj i have not touched the sex doll au in a hot minute but i think albedo's 'beta' personality would probably have been developed and refined as an attempt to give one of the child-friend robots a bit of an edgier personality before immediately realizing that that's,,, just not a great idea and mellowing him down into our current and well-loved albedo. needless to say, when you get him in the same room as his replacement, he's less than pleased - as is your first albedo, your original companion, as he's intent on reminding you as often as he can. still, you're his precious master, and he's fond enough of klee, so he bares with the unwanted company, makes-nice with your first albedo droid, helps around your classroom, tries to prove that he can help you the way he's supposed to, too, even after the dozenth time you turn him down. you say you just doesn't feel right to sleep with the same android you bring to work everyday, but he has a feeling it might have something to do with the rip-off you keep so close to your side, the flawed copy who can't seem to go a minute without your attention. you refuse to believe him, but he swears that he's seen his copy drop that innocent mask, spare a smirk over your shoulder as you compliment him on another day of keeping your classroom relatively un-wrecked by grade-schoolers, slip into your room tonight after klee's powered down for the night. clearly, he's not the companion you deserve. clearly, teyvat made a few mistakes when they took his programming and butchered it.

and, while you might be too oblivious to see it, it's clear to him that your little family could do without a duplicate.

#sex doll au #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere genshin impact #yandere albedo #albedo x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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ally-writes-many-things · 10 months

Text

Home For The Holidays Part 2 (X. Riorson)

Summary: You return home for Christmas with Xaden who is pretending to be your date.

Words: 2.4K

Warnings or A/N: So I changed it from Garrick to Dain because I love Garrick and I didn't want to write Garrick like that. And yes I did incorporate some Fourth Wing characters. Part 3 should be when things start to pick up. I just wanted to do the family introductions first.

Tags: @daisydark @ablev92 @luxsky @graciereads @heyyitsnat21 @honeybee54321 @amazingdisneyfansblog @wallacewillow0773638

Art Credit here

Part 1

Xaden extended his hand for a handshake, by which your mom graciously accepted. "Hello, Mrs. Jess. How are you?" he greeted her politely.

You glanced back and forth between your mom and Xaden, a nervous excitement bubbling within you. "Mom, this is Xaden. He's my date tonight. Xaden, meet my mom, Jess," you introduced them.

She waved off his formal address. "No need for formalities. You can call me Mom, just like everyone else does," she insisted.

Xaden nodded respectfully. "Yes, ma'am," he replied.

Feeling the chill in the air, you looked at your mom with a playful smile. "Are you going to let us in? It's getting quite cold out here," you teased.

Your mom's attention shifted from Xaden to you, realizing that you were still standing outside. "Oh, goodness. I apologize. Please, come inside," she said, stepping aside to make way for both of you.

With a thoughtful gesture, Xaden effortlessly picked up his luggage with one hand and then grabbed yours with the other. "You'll be staying in your old bedroom. And, by the way, Xaden can sleep..." She began, but you interrupted.

"He can sleep in the same room as you," you nonchalantly finished your sentence. "We're both adults, after all."

A smile of understanding crossed your mom's face. "Oh, yes, of course. That's absolutely fine," she agreed, leading the way towards your room.

You paused, gazing at your mom with a determined expression. "Mom, I appreciate it, but I don't need any help. I know exactly where my room is," you assured her.

She seemed slightly taken aback but nodded understandingly. "Alright, then. I'll go and let your stepfather and your siblings know that you're here," she said, turning to head downstairs.

As soon as she disappeared down the hallway, you took a deep breath and began walking in the direction you knew so well. "It's this way," you whispered to Xaden, following the familiar path towards your room.

Xaden glanced at you with a hint of concern. "That seemed a bit harsh, sending your mom away like that," he commented.

You shrugged, a knowing smile playing on your lips. "Trust me, with my mom, you kind of need to be assertive or she won't stop," you explained, understanding the dynamics of your relationship with your mother.

Finally, you reached your room and noticed that the door was already open. Thankfully, during your last visit, you had taken down all the remnants of your teenage years on the walls and replaced them with the old bedding with new bedding. The bed itself was still in great condition, so there was no need to buy a new one. However, almost everything else in the room was new, except for your dressers. You still had your old teenage belongings like CDs, diaries, posters, and pictures buried in the closet. But everything displayed on the walls, except for a picture of you and your best friend taped on the mirror, reflected the adult you had become.

Xaden chuckled, his eyes scanning your room. "Damn, I was really hoping to catch a glimpse of teenage Buttercup," he teased, his tone filled with playful nostalgia.

You rolled your eyes, playfully exasperated, and closed the door behind you. Walking over to your dresser, you opened a drawer and swiftly moved your clothes to another one, making space for Xaden to place his belongings. You carefully selected a shirt and a pair of sleep pants, preparing them for your attire tonight. "You can use this one, if you want," You offered, gesturing to the now empty drawer. "The bathroom is through that door if you need to change,”

Unzipping your bag, you revealed a selection of holiday dresses, a few books, and a pair of man red and white pajamas. As you flung the pajamas in Xaden's direction, he skillfully caught them. "I must admit, I took a wild guess at your size, considering you're roughly the same size as my brother," You confessed with a playful grin.

Xaden, raising an eyebrow in a teasing manner, couldn't help but quip, "So, let me guess, you went ahead and got us matching pajamas, didn't you?”

"It's for the Christmas photos. Like most families, we all dress in matching pajamas and take pictures," you explained.

"Oh. Okay. Cool," He responded, heading towards your dresser to put away his belongings. "Do you have any extra blankets and pillows? I can make a pallet on the floor,”

You chuckled. "Xaden, I know we're pretending here, but I'm not going to make you sleep on the floor. You can sleep in the bed with me. There's plenty of space, and we're adults. I think we can handle it."

"I wasn't expecting that answer," Xaden mused.

"Why?" You asked.

"I don't know. You just seem like the kind of girl who wouldn't be like that," Xaden replied.

You rolled your eyes. "There's a lot about me that you don't know, Riorson."

"I guess so. When am I supposed to change into these?" he asked, holding up the pajamas.

"Christmas Day. We just sleep in them," you clarified.

You retrieved your chosen nightwear from the bed, holding them in your hands as you made your way towards the bathroom. "I'll go change now," you announced, intending to have some privacy.

"You can change in here, it's your bedroom after all," Xaden suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You chuckled, playfully dismissing his suggestion. "You wish," you replied, heading into the bathroom.

Upon emerging from the bathroom, you noticed that Xaden was still dressed in his daytime clothes. You raised an eyebrow, giving him a curious look. "You could have changed while I was in there," you pointed out.

He shrugged, offering his reasoning. "I'd rather not meet your family in pajamas, even if they're okay with it. This is your family's house, after all."

You sighed, trying to reassure him. "Xaden, I've told you before, my family isn't judgmental. They won't mind. Trust me."

He nodded, acknowledging your words, but still seemed hesitant. "I know, but still…”

You nodded, acknowledging Xaden's response. "Your choice. Alright, even though I already gave you a rundown on the plane, let's go over it again," you suggested.

You listened attentively as he began to recap. "Your father is Issac. Your brothers are Brennan, Ridoc, and Sawyer. Your sisters are Mira and Quinn. Brennan is married to Imogen, and they have two kids named Lilith and Chris. Ridoc is married to Rhiannon, and they have one child named Lance. Mira and Sawyer are currently single. Lastly, Quinn is in a relationship with Lynn, and they are in the process of adoption," He explained.

You nodded, confirming his understanding. "Correct. Don't worry about aunts and uncles then. I can introduce you to them as they come. So, are you ready to meet my family?" You asked.

He smiled, "Absolutely. Let's go,"

With a deep breath, you braced yourself before turning the doorknob and venturing into the hallway. The living room awaited you at the bottom, a familiar space where you knew you would find your sisters. Your stepfather and brothers are in their man cave.

As you reached the final step, you instinctively reached out for Xaden's hand. A smile graced his lips as he intertwined his fingers with yours. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, awakening every nerve in your body and heightening your senses. "I think my sisters are in the living room. Let's go meet them first," you suggested, your voice filled with anticipation.

Xaden nodded in agreement, allowing you to lead the way. Together, you walked past the kitchen where your mom was busy. Her voice called out, breaking the silence, "Are you two hungry?" You glanced back at Xaden, silently questioning him.

He shook his head, his eyes filled with contentment. "No, we're fine," he replied, his voice filled with assurance.

Dragging him into the living room, just as you had anticipated, your sisters sat there in their pajamas, their eyes shifting from the TV to you and Xaden, their jaws hitting the floor. "Damn. Mom was right," Rhannion blurted out.

"Rhi, you're married," you reminded her.

Rhannion had been a part of your family since she was a child, so regardless of Ridoc being married to her or not, she would always be considered family. "I know," she replied.

Your other sisters rose from the couch, embracing you tightly, causing you to let go of Xaden's hand. "It's so good to see you back home," they exclaimed.

"Yeah, you too," you responded, returning their warm hugs.

They refused to release their tight grip on you, holding on for a few minutes until you finally managed to extricate yourself from their embrace. Placing a hand on Xaden's shoulder, you introduced him to your sisters Quinn and Mira, as well as your sister-in-law Rhiannon. "This is my boyfriend Xaden," you announced.

"Hi," They all chimed in unison.

Just as you were about to continue the introductions, your brother Ridoc appeared, immediately grabbing hold of Xaden's arm and pulling him towards the man cave. "Hey girls, what- Oh, you must be Xaden. Dad is waiting to meet you," Ridoc informed, his urgency evident.

"Wait, Ridoc," you called out, trying to catch up with them.

Ridoc halted and turned to face you. "Sorry, sis. You know the rules. No women-"

"Allowed in the man cave, I know," You interrupted, finishing his sentence. "But I wanted to take him to dad first, so I know you guys won't-"

Xaden intervened, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "It's okay. I can go.”

You firmly grasped Xaden's arm as it slipped off your shoulder, shaking your head in defiance. "No. No one is going to dictate how you meet Xaden. It's my choice how you all meet him. If Dad or anyone else doesn't like it, tough luck, because I don't care," You declared, locking eyes with Ridoc.

"Alright, I'll go get them," Ridoc conceded, sensing your determination.

Xaden glanced at you, and you instinctively intertwined your fingers with his. Each touch of his skin against yours sent a surge of electricity through your body.

Footsteps approached, and you turned your head to see your stepfather, Ridoc, Brennan, and Sawyer walking towards you. "So you're the one who refused to come to us," Your stepfather remarked.

You turned fully towards him, meeting his gaze head-on. "Xaden didn't refuse anything. I did. Not him. And if you have a problem with it, well, that's on you. Not us," You asserted, standing your ground.

You and your stepfather locked eyes for a brief moment, a silent exchange of curiosity and uncertainty. His gaze then shifted towards Xaden, and he couldn't help but comment, "You do realize you could have changed into pajamas before joining us, right?"

Xaden blinked, a hint of confusion clouding his expression, but he chose to brush it off. "Yeah, (Name) mentioned that, but I didn't really feel at ease meeting you all for the first time in my sleepwear," he explained, shrugging off any discomfort.

As the silence lingered, your stepfather broke it by introducing himself, "Well, I'm Doug."

Each member of the family followed suit, with your middle brother chiming in, "Ridoc," and your oldest brother adding, "Brennan." The youngest brother, not one to be left out, piped up, "Sawyer." Finally, it was Xaden's turn to introduce himself, simply stating his name.

Your stepfather's eyebrows furrowed slightly as he continued, "To be honest, we weren't expecting (Name) to bring anyone home, or even that she was seeing someone."

Xaden chuckled, breaking the tension with a light-hearted tone. "Yeah, it's a bit of a whirlwind. I literally just returned from a work trip, and we officially became a couple a few days ago. With nowhere to go for the holidays, she kindly invited me to join your family. I hope that's alright with everyone."

Just as the words left Xaden's lips, your mom emerged from the kitchen, holding steaming mugs of hot cocoa. Her warm smile illuminated the room as she reassured, "Of course it is! We're thrilled to have you here."

Her welcoming gesture and comforting words instantly put everyone at ease, melting away any lingering doubts or reservations.

#fourth wing #xaden riorson #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson x you #iron flame

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hey-august · 10 months

Text

[Headcanons] Buggy reacting to you getting piercings

Description: How Buggy reacts to you getting pierced in general and how he reacts to specific types of piercings.

Warnings: Probably NSFW? Mention of genital piercings, but nothing explicit. GN!reader. (Edit: Replaced language that wasn't gender neutral that I missed when first posting - so sorry!!)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The guy has a few piercings of his own, so he’s supportive of any that you want to get!

Buggy would accompany you to the appointment. He’ll act like it was a last minute decision and he’s only going because you seem too nervous to go alone.

“Look at you, you’re shaking in fear.” “I’m not shaking…and I’m not afraid!” “You’re delirious, I should probably go with you.”

Disconnects his hand so you can squeeze it. Buggy’s not squeamish by any means, but knows better than to get in the way.

He’ll talk the whole time, wanting to keep you distracted. He’ll be quiet if you asked, but not for long.

Tongue piercing(s)

Buggy is pleasantly surprised that you’re getting a tongue piercing. Something about a sorta-hidden piercing really suits you.

Stands behind the piercer so he can make faces at you. He’ll wink and waggle his eyebrows when you stick out your tongue. He’ll also make fun of the face you're making by sticking out his own tongue in an obscene way. You’re glad the piercer can’t see and end up having to look away so you don’t laugh.

Since kissing is off-limits for a few weeks (along with other kinds of oral fun), Buggy decides to get his tongue pierced also. He startles the piercer by popping out his tongue after it’s pierced and acting like the piercer did something wrong.

Nipple piercing(s)

Gives you one of his billowy button down pirate shirts to wear to the appointment.

He adores how the piercings look and how they enhance your chest (which he already loved enormously).

You picked barbells with spiked ends which kind of remind Buggy of his throwing knives. Which is exactly why you picked that jewelry to start with.

Since these have a pretty long healing period, Buggy also lets you raid his personal closet and the costume closet for loose clothing to wear during the healing period. If you don’t find anything suitable or run out of options, he will bend over backwards to get* you more clothes or find a personal seamstress for you.

*Whether he’ll buy or steal the clothing is unknown.

Genital piercing(s)

Buggy is extra comforting because he also has a genital piercing (maybe more than one…)

Also goes out of his way to make sure you have access to comfortable clothes - baggy pants, skirts, dresses, etc. He even offers you his favorite red and white striped boxers. Definitely not because he loves seeing you wear those, no matter what.

Is extra scrutinizing of the piercing studio and the piercer even though you did all the research already.

If you get woozy after it happens, Buggy will comfort you and tell you that you’re so strong. He’ll wait patiently until you feel better.

If you pass out, Buggy would yell at the piercer at first. Thankfully Buggy’s reputation precedes him and the piercer doesn’t take any shit, so he lets Buggy express his misdirected fear before telling him to knock it off.

Ear piercing(s)

Maybe it’s because you’re getting an ear piercing, but this guy could not stop talking the entire time.

He tells you stories about how the crew on the ship he grew up on would pierce their ears with fishing hooks and thread. Buggy offers to take over and pierce you himself. Even though it was a joke, the piercer feels compelled to remind you both about how unhygienic that would be. The response takes Buggy down a notch and he grumbles for a few minutes before moving on to another anecdote.

Since these piercings can have a long healing period, he says you can sleep on him and rest your head on his shoulder. It’s a kind but empty gesture because Buggy moves too much in his sleep for that to work. Still, you won’t turn away a chance to fall asleep while cuddling.

Nose piercing(s)

Buggy is supportive but is in a weird mood until you get the piercing, which you expected. He doesn’t understand why you would do something that would draw attention to your nose.

Afterwards, he’s in awe of how the jewelry enhances your natural looks. Even though it draws attention, it looks great.

When you use the mirror to see how things look, you notice your nose is turning red from the irritation. You make an off-hand comment about how you two match. Behind the scowl on his face, Buggy absolutely melts. He wishes he could have some of the confidence you have.

Other piercings (facial, oral, belly button, dermal, etc)

Buggy is your number one cheerleader no matter what piercing you get. He’ll talk you up beforehand, telling you what a great idea it is and how flashy you’ll look.

He’ll tell you how the oral / facial piercing(s) suit your smile, especially when the jewelry catches the light and shines.

He finds the belly button piercing so enchanting. The way he looks at it before raking his eyes over your whole body got you blushing hard.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A/N: If you want to get a piercing, please go to a certified piercer and research the location beforehand. Don't use fishing line or whatever. Be safe! ♡

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #buggy x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #buggy headcanons #buggy the clown headcanons #x reader #hey-august buggy headcanons

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floral-force · 1 year

Text

American Hospitality - One Shot

Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

summary: A girls' night out gets interrupted when a handsome stranger spills your drink. Can this mystery man salvage your night with chivalry and smooth British flirting?

words: 2.8k+

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY/NO MINORS, flirting, innuendo, meeting at a bar, alcohol, drunk task force 141 are little shits, ghost is a gentleman, meet cute, Chicago traditions

masterlist | read on ao3 | taglist

part 2: breakfast in bed

The crowd was rowdy and unpredictable—Saturday nights always brought out the annoying drunks—and you were used to being pushed or moved around, but never with such force. Usually, being even a little tipsy meant you brushed off that type of contact, but this shove was so jarring that you couldn’t ignore it. That, and you’d just turned away from the bar with your new drink in hand. The shove knocked it to the ground, thankfully missing your outfit and ruining the grimy tile floor instead.

Just as you were about to scold the person responsible, you looked up and saw a broad chest right in front of your eyes. Tilting your head back a bit more, your eyes widened at the sight of a man in a black balaclava, a skull jaw printed on it, his wide brown eyes and raised eyebrows the only visible features. A large hand came to rest on your left bicep, and you gulped. Here was one man you didn’t want to pick a fight with; you could cough up another ten dollars for a replacement drink.

“Fuck—I’m sorry, love,” he said, the pet name and low British accent making your heart skip a beat. He looked you up and down. “It didn’ spill on you, did it?”

You dumbly shook your head no, your buzzed brain too stunned to speak.

“Thank God, else I’d feel even worse,” he sighed and moved his hand to the small of your back, guiding you back to the sticky bar top. “Now then, let me buy you a new one.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” you shouted over the music.

He was so broad and tall that he commanded space, forcing people to move out of his way. Being ushered by someone with that type of presence made your heart flutter. It didn’t help that the black shirt he wore was tight around his arms and torso, accentuating his size. Feeling his hand on your back made your skin hot in the best way possible, as did his deliciously deep, accented voice.

He shook his head, and you noticed that his pale exposed skin had a hint of a blush near his eyes—just barely.

“Nah, I can’t let a pretty gal like you have her night ruined by an arse like me.” His eyes landed on yours, taking you in with a calculating stare. “What’re’ya drinkin’?”

You swallowed. “Um, a, uh,” you stuttered and rubbed the back of your neck, hot under his brown eyes. “A vodka cran.”

He nodded. You watched him flag down one of the bartenders scurrying around, jealous of how easily and quickly he was able to do it. His hand remained on the small of your back as he ordered your drink and maybe something else, but you weren’t too sure; you were too focused on trying to slow your heartbeat and breathe normally. One pink drink and one dark brown drink in shitty plastic cups were set down, and two shots of amber liquid soon joined them. You heard a muffled word of thanks as he handed the bartender cash, stuffing his wallet back in his pants pocket.

Before you could take your drink, he set it down in front of you. His hand dwarfed the cup—he could easily crush it in his fist.

“Now,” he said, turning to face you, taking his hand off your back. “My mates and I heard that we had to take a shot of Malört while we’re ‘ere in Chicago.”

You grimaced, eyes falling on the ominous liquid in front of him. You sighed deeply and shrugged, meeting his eyes. “It’s fucking awful, but it is a Chicago thing.”

He chuckled. “So we gotta sort this ourselves now?”

“We?”

He shrugged. “Can’t do it alone, love.”

“Let’s be clear,” you said, smiling and pointing a finger at him, “I’m only doing this because you got me a drink.”

“Oh, absolutely. You’re a right saint.” He handed you one of the shots, taking the other in his hand and pulling up the balaclava enough so he could drink. Your lips parted when he smiled. “Name’s Simon, by the way.”

You told him your name, standing on your tip toes as he bent his neck so he could hear it. He repeated it a few times, straightening and looking at you with something affectionate in his eyes. “I like the way it sounds, sweetheart.”

You giggled like a schoolgirl talking to her crush. You raised your shot, and he followed suit. Feeling bold, you said, “Here’s to Chicago, and handsome strangers.”

Simon chuckled, a low rumble from his chest. “I’ll drink to that, and to meetin’ stunnin’ lasses.”

It was your turn to laugh. You tapped your glass against the bar top and brought it to your lips with a grimace, knocking it back as fast as you could so the taste didn’t hit before you could swallow. You tapped the glass twice against the counter, hoping that you timed it right. Luckily, you had, and it hit a few seconds after the Malört had burned down your esophagus. You shivered and shook your head, immediately gulping down your vodka cran.

You heard a deep ugh and looked over to see Simon setting his empty shot down and shaking his head. He looked over at you and pursed his lips.

“Yeah,” he rasped, “that’s fuckin’ mingin’.”

You laughed at his response; seeing the reactions people had to Malört never got old. The sweetness and tang of vodka from your drink had finally covered the fermented licorice taste, and you watched Simon drink his, chestnut eyes squeezed shut as he chugged. He set the empty cup down and looked at you. You were twirling the straw in your drink, absentmindedly gazing at him, and embarrassed when he caught you looking.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he purred, pulling the mask down again.

You nodded emphatically. “Very much so.”

“Me too,” he breathed, taking a step closer. When he brushed a thumb across your cheek and pinched your chin, you bit your lip and stared up at him through your lashes. Simon shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Don’ go lookin’ at me like that, pretty girl.”

Usually, you hated the smell of whiskey, but on his breath, it was intoxicating. “Why not, Simon?” you asked innocently, setting your drink down.

He inhaled sharply and got even closer, your bodies almost touching. The heat in your gut was almost unbearable, burning with anticipation. He placed his hands on your waist, kneading your flesh with his fingers.

“Because you won’t be able to walk when I’m through with you,” he husked, eyes sparkling with lust.

You giggled and placed your hands on his broad chest, stroking up and down. The man was toned—you could feel the muscular ridges under the tight material—but soft at the same time. The Malört must’ve melted part of your brain because you suddenly imagined what it’d be like to let your hands explore his bare torso while he was on top of you. You just knew it would be a holy sight and sensation.

“I’ll take my chances, hot stuff.”

“You’ll give me a proper Chicago welcome, yeah?”

He squeezed your waist and you saw the corners of his eyes crinkle with a mischievous smile. You nodded emphatically, never breaking eye contact.

“I’ll give you that and more,” you purred.

He chuckled, then his sultry tone dropped. “How much ‘ave you had to drink, love?”

You took a deep breath and forced air across your lips as you thought. You glanced at the abandoned vodka cran, barely half empty. “Aside from that—” you jerked your head- “and the Malört? Maybe two. I got here an hour or so ago with a few other friends.”

He nodded, his eyes dropping to the floor, hands loosening. Simon met your eyes again, asking, “You free tomorrow?”

You smiled and playfully tapped your finger on your chin, looking up at the ceiling as if you were thinking. “You know what, Simon? Suddenly, my schedule is wide open. Oh, and my legs if you’re interested.”

Simon shook his head and laughed. “Cheeky thing,” he commented, a hand rising to pinch your chin. He then pulled out his phone, the bright light illuminating his pale skin, his hands nearly dwarfing the device. He unlocked it and pulled up a blank contact page, looking back up at you. “Before we get too battered, what’s your—fuck, what d’you Yanks call it—cell phone number?”

You rolled your eyes as you started telling him, hearing him swear when he pressed the wrong number with his too-large fingers. He asked you to spell your name—“Don’ wanna fuck something that lovely up, lass”—and nodded, quickly sending you a text so you could save his number.

The text he sent made you shake your head and rub your temple. Simon grabbed your arm, gently stroking it.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“No! You just didn’t strike me as a ‘kissy-face emoji’ kind of guy.”

“That a bad thing, sweetheart?”

You beamed up at him, putting your phone back in your pocket. “Not at all. But I do get the feeling you aren’t like this with your ‘mates,’” you giggled, using air quotes around the British word.

He rolled his eyes. “It’s the skull mask, innit?”

You shook your head, taking a sip from your forgotten drink. Tilting your head to the left, you gazed straight ahead behind him and jerked your chin forward. “Something tells me it’s that pack of guys pointing at you.”

He whipped around and you heard him groan. “Fuckin’ hell.” Simon turned to face you again, picking up his drink and finishing it off in less than ten seconds. “Yeah, those’re them.”

“You know,” you said, puckering your lips. “Are any of them single?”

Simon raised an eyebrow and leaned against the bar, resting a fist against his hip. “You’re not ditchin’ me already, are ya, love?”

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m incredibly excited to have those arms around me tomorrow,” you stated. “But I do know my girlfriends would love to flirt with some British guys.”

Simon stared at the ceiling, silent as he considered your offer. When he looked back down at you, he nodded. “Under one—no, two conditions.”

“Shoot.”

“One, nobody goes home with anyone tonight.”

“I like that.”

“Two, everyone takes a shot of Malört.” Simon exhaled, fiddling with his empty cup. “I need those twits bloody humbled.”

“Aye-aye, cap’n,” you giggle, giving a fake salute. “You sound like you give orders all the time, Simon.”

He took a step closer to you and gripped your waist again. “Most people call me lieutenant,” he husked. “But you can call me daddy.”

You were absolutely flustered, words catching in your throat. Before you could attempt to respond, you heard raucous laughter and saw two men ambling towards you and Simon. He immediately turned and put his back to you, his left arm slightly out in a protective stance. His words left you burning and you felt your pussy throb with sudden arousal. You’d explore that innuendo tomorrow; for now, you were focused on taking in the grinning men converging on Simon.

One of them waved at you with a toothy grin. You could see the drunken blush blooming on his pale ivory cheeks, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oi, Ghost! Who’s tha bonnie lass?” he yelled, a Scottish accent underscoring his query.

“Soap, I’ll fuckin’ end ya,” you heard Simon growl.

Another man stared over at you, his cool sepia arms toned and a wide smile splitting his face. He nodded at you and raised his thin black brows. “Ol’ Ghost ain’t scarin’ you too much, is he?”

“If he is, I’ll knock ‘im on his arse!”

“That’ll do!” Simon barked. You placed a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh, but he heard it anyways and twisted his head to look at you. “Y’alright?”

“I’m perfect, Simon,” you chuckled, pursing your lips and holding back a laugh when his eyes widened as his friends started to howl with laughter.

“Steamin’ Jesus, LT!” The one you assumed was Soap doubled over and guffawed. “Gaz, go get Price!”

Gaz nodded and turned, expertly weaving through the thick crowd. He quickly returned with a bearded man, brunette with a few lines and a smattering of freckles on his ivory face. You assumed this newcomer was Price. Gaz dragged him next to Soap and jerked his chin at you.

“Ghost here told this lass his name,” Gaz chittered.

A smile teased Price’s face, and he nodded. You saw Simon bow his head and groan.

“And he didn’t scare her off?” He looked between Soap and Gaz, who both shook their heads. Price smiled up at Simon and stepped forward, clapping him on the shoulder. “Attaboy, Lieutenant!”

Price’s shoulders shook with a suppressed laugh as Gaz and Soap burst out laughing, and you couldn’t help but laugh too. The sound rose over the din of the bar, your cheeks pained from smiling so much.

You cleared your throat as the laughing died down, and the three men looked at you; Simon’s eyes had never left you. He turned so his back was to the bar, leaning his left arm on it.

“You guys ever had Malört?” you inquired, raising an eyebrow.

When they all shook their heads, you looked up at Simon. He tilted his head towards you and sighed, broad chest rising up and down.

“Well,” you declared, “You can’t say you visited the great city of Chicago if you didn’t take a shot of Malört while you were here! My treat.”

“Simon!” Price exclaimed, his brow furrowed.

“Yes, Captain?” Simon sighed.

“You’re gonna let the lass pay?”

“Bloody hell,” Simon murmured. He grumbled and pulled out his wallet, turning around to order the nasty shots as his friends hollered and laughed. He looked down at you, shaking his head and chuckling. “What am I gonna do with you, sweetheart?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. I’ll leave that up to you, Lieutenant.”

He clicked his tongue and stared down at you, pinching your chin. “Oh, you’re askin’ for it now, love.”

You dreamily smiled up at him, leaning against the bar and propping your elbow up on it, resting your cheek in your palm. Simon ordered and paid, the three shots sitting ominously on the counter. Two vodka crans were set down soon after, and Simon placed one next to you. He lifted the balaclava, revealing his pink lips to you as he sipped his drink, pale blond lashes fluttering on his cheeks. You raised an eyebrow, wondering why he hadn’t ordered whiskey and coke again.

“Simon.”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t peg you as the type of guy who likes vodka crans.”

He smirked, the thin black straw resting on his lips. He said your name, and you were enamored with the way his lips looked as he said it. You hoped he’d be pressing them all over your skin tomorrow. It would be a fucking tragedy if he didn’t.

“I’m a man of taste, love. Besides,” he said, taking one last sip before pulling the mask back down. “How can I not like ‘em after spilling one led to me gettin’ your number?”

You nodded. “Fair enough. It’s probably my new favorite drink because of this.”

He snorted, making you giggle. He rapped his fist against the counter and gazed into your eyes.

“Now, how about we make those clowns suffer?”

“I thought Chicago was welcoming, sweetheart,” Simon teased.

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “I was ready to fight you when you spilled my drink.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And how would that have gone for ya?”

“I’m feisty,” you giggled. “But maybe not as well as letting you buy me a new drink.”

“Probably right,” he nodded, rubbing a large hand on your back.

He turned around and slapped Soap’s back with the back of his hand, the man startling from the force and sound of it. The men instantly crowded the bar, each taking a shot glass. Simon moved to stand at your left side, angling himself and acting as a barrier between you and anyone dumb enough to risk spilling on his feisty American girl. The men looked to you, and you raised your drink with them, Simon following suit.

You beamed at them, warming up when Simon placed his hand on the small of your back. “Welcome to Chicago!”

As they took it, you and Simon both took a few sips from your drinks. You looked up and patted Simon’s arms, and he leaned down.

“You’ll get your second welcome tomorrow, handsome.”

You gasped when he quickly squeezed your ass.

Simon straightened to his full height again. The corners of his brown eyes crinkled with a smile, and he nodded. “Oh, I plan on it, pretty girl.”

a/n: I'm a proud chicagoan and just needed to post some gentleman!ghost and goofy vacationing task force 141...also, malort is as awful as it sounds. but if you visit and you're 21+, you gotta take a shot of it. hope you enjoyed! UPDATE: i wrote a part 2 to this fic called breakfast in bed! it is all smut (with a dash of fluff), so give it a read if you'd like.

masterlist | join the taglist! | part 2: breakfast in bed

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fic #ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod fic #call of duty #call of duty fic #task force 141 #gentleman!simon riley #he's a man of honor and treats a lady right #flirting with ghost #meet cute #my fic

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