#assorted shell

[tanuki-kimono]

Mesmerizing kimono coat in shimmering oil-slick tones. The pattern has bustling sealife with beautiful seahorses, different shells, algae, anemones, etc.

This intricate design has the same hypnotizing effect on me as Howl’s wizard bedroom:

[kittythedragon]

My little snail dog from @ink-the-artist finally arrived

THANK YOU, INK!!! <3<3<3<3<3

[pubbykid]

the more i think about it the funnier my moms nicknames for me as a kid are like ur gonna call ur kid horn-toad, toadlet, and critter and be surprised when it brings home random herps informing you theres new pets in the house

[futurefind]

//no fgo mood quite like worrying abt a half-proper backend for your party in a CQ....... and just rolling right through it w.o losing a single servant dhdhdhsghdsgh

(or: noris gacha boxes are busted as ever but fgos is the og + most busted of all)

[revelboo]

Assorted headcanons- scenarios 🌶️ 18+

Starscream x Reader, Megatron x Reader, Jazz x Reader, Wheeljack x Reader, Bluestreak x Reader, Prowl x Reader, Thundercracker x Reader, others. G1/IDW, TFP, TF One. Mass-displaced Cybertronians x reader scene pack- no plot here

Sorry, not sorry at all.

IDW/G1 Starscream

• Kneeling, body bowed over yours, he chuckles and runs his servos over your rib cage. “Something wrong?” He almost purrs the words, lips twisting knowingly. With your hips up, thighs spread over his you can’t get any leverage. Can’t move and you desperately need to, feeling the thick length of his spike pulsing where it’s buried inside you. You tuck your chin to glare up at him, but his optics are focused on where you’re joined, almost seeming fascinated with watching himself slowly rock against you, his spike slick as it disappears inside you before he glances at you, sly expression growing wicked. “Say it.”

• “Please. Please move,” you growl at him voice straining, trying to wiggle and he leans back, servos tightening on your soft hips to pin you still with him buried deep right where he belongs. Teasing his own control and yours. Wings flicking, he studies your flushed face as your thighs clench around him, struggling in frustration. Needing him. Only him, because you’re his. “Star.” Your voice hitches, begging for him and his restraint shatters. Shifting to stretch out over you, he begins to move. You cling to him as he drives into your wet heat, adoring those softy needy sounds you make and the way you feel like you’re made just to take his spike.

TFP Megatron

• Coiling the length of your leash around his fist, he buries his face against the softness of your throat as he covers your much smaller frame. He lets his claws play over your core, testing how wet you are for him. Feeling you squirm as he runs his chain wrapped servos along your belly and up to caress the delicate line of your jaw with a claw tip. Those sharp denta tease the skin of your shoulder, biting just hard enough to send little sparks of pain through you to mix with the need coiling you tight. Leaving marks so there’s no doubt who you belong to.

• Trembling in need as he palms your throat with a hand, draping himself against your back on his knees and a fist planted against the berth. You can feel his spike against your inner thigh branding you with his body heat, leaving a wet trail as his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Such a good little pet,” he growls, before his mouth slides down along your throat to your shoulder. You don’t even have time to form a retort or get offended about the pet comment, before he’s spearing you on his spike and you brace as that first thrust almost sends your sprawling face down. Then he’s firmly pressing against your nape until you surrender with a whimper, chest down, hips up as he ruts against you with a possessive snarl, pace relentless.

TFP Soundwave

• That soundless hum crackles over you, through you in an electric rush that lifts the fine hair at your nape as he settles against you and that tingling awareness washes over you. Arching against his grip as he uses those tendrils like built in shibari to restrain you. Pin you immobile where he wants you. Positioned how he wants.

• Everywhere his flesh meets yours, more of you sinks into him, giving everything you are to him as he presses his forehead to yours, servos sliding down your sides. There’ll be no keeping your thoughts out, no mental walls between you as he spreads you to him, holding you immobile and gripping himself, slides the head of his spike against your slick heat. Your need lashes at him, demanding wordlessly and he can’t deny you. Uses his tendrils to pull you down onto his spike and shuddering as your heat, your thoughts, all of you, envelopes him. Those little noises you make as he claims you almost musical.

G1/IDW Prowl

• “Screw you,” you curl your lip at him. “You can’t just crook a finger and I’ll come running.” The first time had been an accident. How were you supposed to know that if you kept pushing his buttons he’d react that way. Your back thumps against the wall, his fist smacking against the wall as he glares down at you, all frustration and heat and hunger. It’s a feeling you understand all too well as his mouth crashes against yours with bruising force. It’s not a kiss, so much as a domination. And then he’s gripping you, lifting you to pin against the wall with casual strength, settling himself between your thighs so you can’t shut him out. You don’t like him, you’re pretty sure he hates you, but the both of you are equally screwed by how much you enjoy angry sex.

• You bite his lip hard, hands shoving at him like you can actually force him to budge and he nips back, hearing your sharp intake of breath, those angry eyes flashing that he drew blood. He’s almost certain you’d do the same if you could, can feel your fingernails digging into the seams in his armor, biting into the mesh there. Trying to hurt him, mark him as yours. You can hate him all you like, glare and snap at him, but you want him. Want this. A fact that winds him tight as he pulls back enough that he can line your bodies up, find that wet heat and thrust into you. You cling to him, legs hooking around him as he bucks into you and your lips and mouth press whimpering kisses against his throat. Needing him. Hating him. Begging and cursing.

G1/IDW Bluestreak

• His servos tunnel into the softness of your hair, lips running over your jaw up to the corner of your mouth. Internal systems hitching as you shift on top of him where he’s sprawled and the servos of his other hand tighten and almost immediately relax against your hip. Fighting himself and the urge to just move you where he needs you so he can drive up into that tight, wet heat. Your blunt little teeth nip at his lip, soft fingers playing with the mesh of his protoarmor under his jaw. And you shift against him, sitting up on his chassis, eyes dark with need, hair messy from his servos.

• Bluestreak’s head is thrown back, denta bared like he’s in pain as he curls his warm hands around your waist. Every rough vent blowing across your sweat slicked skin as you brace your palms on his chassis and rock back. Sliding yourself against his spike until he shudders under you, servos tightening on you so much you know there’ll be bruises later. “Please,” he growls, optics gorgeous as he looks up at you, that hungry stare almost worshipful. Making you feel powerful as you reach back to find him, grip his pulsing spike and lower yourself on him. His venting hitches under you, hips lifting as he groans in Cybertronian, seeming to forget you can’t understand him now as his hands slide down your waist to your hips and he pulls you the rest of the way down to take all of him. Now you’re throwing your head back as he uses his grip to grind himself against you, still murmuring softly in his language. As soon as his grip eases, you brace your palms and ride him, hips rolling.

G1/IDW Thundercracker

• “Please,” that soft, almost whining whimper strokes over him as he lazily rolls his hips. “Thundercracker, I can’t.” Pinning you on your belly, legs spread so you can’t try and shut him out, his arm hooked under you just enough to keep your hips tilted where he needs them as he keeps rocking himself into you, he smiles indulgently. Feeling your slick heat quivering around his spike as he nudges you toward that peak again just so he can fill you again, because you definitely can for him. His wings shiver in lazy little tremors as he feels you clench around his spike.

• “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, lips tenderly brushing the back of your shoulder as he thrusts a bit harder, his servos flexing under you, brushing where you’re joined so you gasp and moan. He’s trying to kill you with pleasure, coaxing and demanding until your tired body is coiling again. Until you need it again as he adjusts his angle, spike stroking inside you and you’re crying out again, shattering. And he groans as you fist his spike, taking him along with you.

G1/IDW Jazz

• “Frag, doll,” he groans, the ragged sound of his voice winding you up as your arch under him. Servos span your sides and glide up, pulling your arms up and pinning your wrists as he rolls his hips, that big spike driving deep inside you. He’s not letting your hands loose since the feel of your hands on his spike had nearly done him in if his ragged venting is any indication. Makes you wonder what he’d do if it was your mouth on him and what kind of noises he’d make. You hook a leg over his hip, bucking your hips to chase after your own pleasure, because it’s so close. As he snarls at you in Cybertronian, you’re almost certain he’s swearing at you.

• Primus, how can you be so tight? Your heel digs into him as you grind yourself against him and he almost bites his glossa. You apparently have no patience, don’t want gentle or slow. And honestly? That’s fine by him. Growling soft, little nothings in your ear, he stops holding back. There it is, your head thrown back as he pounds into you, tenuous control fraying. Crying out his name as he takes you.

TF One Megatron

• He likes this view of you, your body spread open under him, as he props himself up on an arm. The ragged sounds of pleasure you make just for him and the wet heat of you around his spike. Fingers of his other hand sliding over the fragile line of your throat, he bucks into you, chasing down his release. You writhe under him, little pleas falling from your lips. Begging him so sweetly as he thrusts harder.

• He shifts over you, hips pinning yours to the berth as his thrusts grow more urgent and you can only hook your legs around him as he ruts into you, losing all control and it’s a powerful feeling to know you do this to him. He’s always reminding you that you’re his, but that just means he belongs to you, too. Especially as his rhythm quickens and he slides a hand under the back of your head and presses his face against your throat as you cry out, warm tremors crashing through you as his denta grip your shoulder with a snarl. Hard enough to leave a mark on that soft skin.

G1/IDW Ratchet

• Those little teeth try to bite the palm he has covering your mouth as he ruts into you from behind. The container he’s pinned you on your belly on with your hips and legs hanging is just tall enough you can’t reach the ground. Can’t do anything but squirm as he claims what’s his. Taking you like this in the medbay where anyone might walk in hadn’t been the plan, but you’d started it.

• Feeling every, deep drive of his hips, you cling to his forearm. All because you’d felt bad for Fowler getting hell from his supervisor. All you’d done was touch the guy’s arm in platonic sympathy. Next thing you know, Ratchet is picking you up in his servos, locking you both in the medbay. And taking out some pent up frustration on you, not that your complaining as you writhe under him. He stops trying to muffle your cries, gripping your hips in both hands so he can drag you back to meet his urgent thrusts and the wet sound of your bodies meeting, the feel of him inside you mixes with his rough, growling venting to send you over that edge.

G1/IDW Wheeljack

• Little hands on his vocal indicators. A soft mouth against his throat and the feel of you wrapped around his spike, so tight and wet. His hands tremble as they ghost over your ribs, scared if he holds you, his grip might bruise that soft flesh. Scared he might do something that makes you stop. So he just sits still, growling softly, systems revving as you roll your hips against his. Perched in his lap as you torment him with that slick heat and your slow, cautious rhythm. The feel of you anchoring him.

• He’s trembling under you as you ride his spike. His head falling back, vocal indicators flickering mauve. Over and over you feel his servos barely there against your cheek, your side, or your hip. Needing more contact and being denied because he seems to think he’ll break you. Pressing soft kisses against his throat, you roll your hips almost dancing in his lap. Moaning against his jaw and tracing the mesh of his neck with the tip of your tongue. And then finally whatever was holding him back snaps. Those big hands find your hips and he’s in control, thrusting up inside you as he pulls you down to meet him.

[sematarygirls]

        COWBOY!RAFE x FEM!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ oral (m! receiving), reader is kinda sheltered, mommy issues, parental death, running away from home, getting picked up by a handsome stranger

NOTES .ᐟ this was pretty fun to write tbh. i started this like a year ago and recently found it in my drafts, which led me here, so i hope yall enjoy it as much as i do.

Your worn cowboy boots thudded against the asphalt as you walked down the deserted country road, dragging your suitcase along. The summer sun shone brightly overhead, heating the atmosphere and causing a thin layer of sweat to coat your body. Your daddy's old cowboy hat sat atop your head, shielding your face from the sun's unrelenting, unforgiving rays. A loose white sundress swished softly with every step you took, slowly making your way farther and farther from your old life.

The death of your beloved father sent your already troubled mother into a state of disrepair. You watched as the mother that had sung you soft lullabies and stayed with you until you fell asleep transformed into someone you didn't recognize.

Most nights, you weren't sure where she was or if she was even alive until she inevitably came stumbling home in a drunken stupor through the front door of your little farmhouse in bumfuck nowhere, the screen door slamming behind her and startling you awake.

On the rare occasion that you saw her, she seemed to look through you. Her eyes were sunken with dark circles underneath them that greatly contrasted how bright and full of life they once had been. She was a shell of the woman she once was.

You tried your best to be there for her, but eventually, you realized that she wasn't going to change. She didn't want to get better, and you couldn't force her to.

On your eighteenth birthday, you made a difficult decision. You had been weighing it for a long time, wondering if you were doing the right thing. You wondered if your dad would be disappointed in you, if he would've wanted you to stay, but eventually, you knew that you had to do what was best for you.

You couldn't handle the constant worrying, only to be greeted with a cold shoulder the few times you did see your mother. You felt like you'd never have a life of your own in that house, suffocated by the memories of the happy family that once lived within the walls. You needed to start fresh—to give yourself the opportunity to be something more than a small town drunk like your mom.

You were leaving, and you were never coming back.

And for the first time in a long time, you had something to look forward to. You had a future that didn't revolve around taking care of someone else. You had hope that you could find something better out there, something more than this lonely life you'd grown so accustomed to.

You grabbed an old suitcase from the basement and threw it onto your bed. Opening it, your heart ached as you saw your name written in black sharpie on the light brown fabric. It was written in your father's handwriting, little doodles of stars and hearts surrounding it. For a moment, you had second thoughts about your decision, but ultimately, you pushed them away. you knew he would've wanted you to live a life worth something. He wouldn't want you to be confined to this house, worrying whether your mother would make it home every night.

You packed an assortment of clothing and little items that held sentimental value to you. You knew you had to choose carefully because there was only so much you could bring. Rifling around in your closet, you discovered your father's old cowboy hat. You stuffed it into the way back the day of his funeral, never wanting to see it again, but now, you knew you needed it more than ever.

It served as a reminder of home—not the house you were running away from, but the home that had once been filled with life and love. It reminded you of cold winter nights spent huddled by the fire and spooky stories told during thunderstorms. It reminded you of dancing in the kitchen while the three of you prepared dinner and listening to the rock station with a popsicle in hand as you curiously watched your dad work on his truck. It reminded you of a time before forehead kisses and goodnight stories were replaced by slamming screen doors and absent mothers.

You placed the hat atop your packed suitcase and went to sleep, your plan for tomorrow already set in motion. You woke up before your mother, quickly getting dressed and gathering your things before creeping into the living room. She was nowhere to be seen, probably having actually made it to her bedroom that night, but her purse was laying on the kitchen counter, a couple items spilling out from the way she had haphazardly thrown it when she got home.

Careful to not make any noise, you rummaged through, looking for her wallet. You didn't expect to find much, but you would take what you could get. After stuffing the cash you could find into your bra, so in the event that your suitcase was stolen, you'd still have something to your name, you took one last look around. You admired the height markings your father had made on the doorway, and the hole in the wall that he always swore he'd get around to fixing after bringing in a new couch went terribly wrong. A sad smile graced your face as you said goodbye to the place that had been your only home for as long as you'd known, turning the page and getting ready to embark on your journey to a new life.

Walking through the front door with your suitcase trailing behind you was like a weight had suddenly been lifted from your shoulders. For the first time in a long time, you didn't know what would happen next, and it frightened you in a way that was exhilarating.

The sound of a car approaching made you jump a little, the sound cutting through the quiet atmosphere that had previously only been filled with the light swishing of your dress, the sound of your suitcase wheels and boots on the asphalt, and the occasional chirp of birds. It was rare to encounter people on the deserted road you were traveling down since the area you were in was secluded and a good few miles from any houses or towns, so you knew to be cautious.

You turned your head, tilting the cowboy hat up to get a better look at the approaching vehicle and it's driver. It was an old grey-blue pickup truck with a white roof, a thin layer of dirt and grime built up along the exterior. You squinted your eyes to try and get a better look at the driver as they got closer, but the glare from the sun on the windshield hindered your view.

Hesitantly, you looked away from the truck, your gaze returning forward as you waited for it to pass, but to your surprise, it didn't. You clutched your suitcase tighter as the man pulled up beside you, not stopping completely, just rolling along to keep pace with you.

When the driver rolled the window down, you turned your head to face him, continuing to walk as you studied his face. He was a handsome man; you couldn't deny that. He had bright blue eyes that shone with intrigue, his pale pink lips pulled up into a smirk that had you torn between being deeply unsettled and utterly smitten for him. His brown hair was buzzed short, and he had a bit of stubble on his chiseled jawline along with a mustache on his upper lip—something you usually wouldn't have been privy to, but he made it look effortlessly good.

"What's a pretty little thing like yourself doing out here all alone?" He asked with the faintest hint of a southern drawl, looking you up and down. It should have disgusted you—a random man hitting on you in the middle of nowhere—but for some reason, it made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You debated on what to say. At first, you were gonna say that your mama always told you not to talk to strangers, but that sounded so childish that you immediately pushed it away. You weren't really great at talking to people. You'd often spent more time alone than with others. You simply shrugged, deciding against saying anything at all and making yourself sound foolish.

His gaze darted to your suitcase, finding himself intrigued and undeterred by your lack of an answer. "Where you headed, sweetheart?" He asked, continuing to drive beside you.

Truthfully, you didn't have a destination. You were just sorta planning to go wherever the wind took you, which admittedly, wasn't a very solid plan. "Anywhere but here," you said cryptically. It sounded a bit cheesy, but it was true. You just wanted to put as much distance between yourself and your childhood home as you possibly could.

His smirk widened into a full-blown grin as he leaned across the seat to throw open the passenger door. "Well, climb on in then. I can take you wherever you'd like to go," he offered, eyes glinting mischievously.

You didn't notice this, however. You weren't all that great at reading people due to your sheltered upbringing. You had gone to school, but it was a small one that you'd dropped out of at sixteen to try and take care of your mother.

You looked over at him, your eyes filled with hesitance as you nervously chewed your lip. You may have been a little naive, but you weren't completely stupid. You knew how unsafe it could be to catch a ride from a stranger. "That's awful kind of you, but... well, I don't think I should."

His demeanor didn't falter, an air of confidence surrounding him—like he was used to getting what he wanted, even if it took a little convincing. "I get it, darlin'," he nodded understandingly. "A pretty thing like you can't be too careful nowadays, but I promise you I ain't gonna hurt ya. Can't say the same for others, though."

Your eyes widened a bit at his words, and for the first time, you seemed to be able to look past your rose-colored glasses. You were a young woman walking alone in the middle of nowhere—an easy and vulnerable target to anyone that could have wanted to hurt you.

"Look, I ain't tryna scare ya," he said, seeming to notice the fear that his words had ignited within you. "But... well, there's a whole lotta bad people out here, sweetheart. I'd hate to go home and find that pretty face on the news or somethin'."

"Well, how do I know that you ain't some serial killer?" You asked, quirking an eyebrow. You stopped walking to face him fully, to which he abruptly stepped on the breaks.

"Serial killers don't usually offer their victim's rides now do they?" He grinned wolfishly, leaning back and draping his arm over the passenger's seat. "I reckon they usually take by force, but I s'pose I wouldn't know since I ain't one."

A frown tugged at your lips, your eyebrows furrowing in thought for a moment. "I guess you're right..." You didn't really know much about serial killers either if you were being honest. Well, not enough to know how they rounded up their victims anyway.

He grinned wider, as if he could tell that you were doubting yourself, and he found it amusing. "So, how 'bout it then? You gonna get in?"

"Promise you ain't gonna like kidnap me or somethin'?" You asked softly, apparently trusting that he would tell the truth.

His grin softened into a warm smile, and he chuckled lowly as he brought his free hand up to place over his chest. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

You nodded, seeming to accept this as an accurate description of his intentions or rather, lack thereof. You picked up your suitcase and put it into his truck bed, all the while he watched you intently, his gaze lingering on the tantalizing view of thigh that your dress provided.

You climbed into the passenger's seat, pulling the cowboy hat off your head and placing it on the dash before closing the door and buckling yourself in. You weren't really sure where this handsome stranger was going to take you, and that's when it dawned on you that you had gotten into his car without even knowing his name.

You looked over at him, finding him already staring intently at you. You offered a shy smile, your fingers playing with the hem of your dress as you softly told him your name.

"Pleasure to meet you," he said, his deep southern drawl causing your name to roll off his tongue with a warmth akin to the way the summer sun had heated your skin. He put the truck in gear, the engine purring as he continued down the desolate highway. "Name's Rafe," he introduced himself, his gaze darting to you.

"The pleasure's all mine Mr. Rafe," you said politely. The man was not that much older than you—maybe two or three years—and thus was probably nowhere near old enough to regard as Mr, but you were taught that it was respectful to do so.

He grinned at the title, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel. "Just Rafe's fine, darlin'," he insisted, casting you a sideways glance, his gaze lingering on your lips as you smiled shyly.

"Okay," you nodded, looking down at your lap as you fiddled with your dress. Rafe was awfully handsome, the hottest guy you'd ever seen by a longshot—not that that was a huge feat—and you found yourself extremely nervous with the fact that you were alone with him.

"So, what are you doin' out here all alone?" He asked, casting you a questioning glance as he took his eyes off the road briefly. "You didn't say earlier." His gaze fell to your lap, watching as your fingertips brushed the edge of your dress repeatedly, the fabric having ridden up due to your sitting position and revealed even more of your soft looking thighs.

You shrugged in response, just as you had earlier. You didn't really know how to explain your situation, and you hardly wanted to trauma dump on someone you barely knew, especially when you'd be in such close quarters for God knows how long. "I'm just... travelin'."

"Travelin'?" He echoed curiously, quirking an eyebrow. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as his gaze dropped to your thighs once more, the fabric of your dress inching up even more as you absentmindedly fiddled with it. He knew he shouldve been focused on the road and not his pretty passenger, but you were making it hard—in more ways than one. "What's got you on the road by yourself?"

"It's a long story," you mumbled, looking up and casting your gaze out the window, watching the scenery blur by as he did 80 on the interstate.

He hummed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel rhythmically as he looked back at the road. "You runnin' from somethin', sugar?" He asked curiously, your evasive nature leading him to believe that there was more to the story.

You rubbed your sweaty palms on your dress, something your father would have scolded for being unladylike. Your gaze darted to the cowboy hat on the dash as you spoke. "More like runnin' toward somethin'."

"Toward?" He asked curiously. "So, where you headed then?" He prompted, his fingers stilling their movements as he looked over at you again, trying to read your expression.

A smile pulled at your lips as you turned to him, your eyes locking for a moment. "It's more of a... metaphorical somethin'."

His eyebrows raised, intrigued by your cryptic response. Everything about you seemed to intrigue him. You were one big mystery wrapped up in just about the prettiest package he'd ever seen. "Metaphorical, huh?"

"Yknow, you got this tendency to just repeat what I say back to me in question form," you grinned, your tone slightly teasing as you settled more comfortably into conversation with the man. You examined his side profile carefully as he turned back to the road.

"And you got a tendency to talk in circles," he replied with a grin of his own, his eyes flicking back to you briefly before returning to the road. He liked looking at you, even if for a brief moment.

You thought for a moment, deciding that perhaps Rafe deserved a bit of an explanation, given that he was nice enough to give you a ride and all. "I ain't going nowhere specific," you shrugged, your eyes finding the cowboy hat again. "Just... looking for somethin' bigger, somethin' better, I s'pose."

"Bigger and better than what?" He prompted, casting another sideways glance at you. His gaze lingered on the way your lips parted as you spoke, feeling himself twitch in his jeans. He was a man that liked understanding things. He didn't like being on the outside looking in. He wanted to know everything. He was curious; it was in his nature.

"The life I had before," you said, your tone growing solemn, gaze never wavering from the worn cowboy hat as memories flashed before you.

He noted your shift in demeanor and the way you were staring at the hat like you were willing it to turn into something. "What's the deal with that?" He asked, feeling like he needed to know.

"It was my daddy's old hat," you smiled reverently. "He um- he died a couple years back," you explained, clearing your throat and tearing your gaze away to look out the window.

"I'm sorry, sugar," he said sympathetically. He wasn't the best at comforting people, but he wanted to try. He took one hand off the wheel, placing it atop one of yours on your lap, and as much as it was not the time, he couldn't help the way his dick hardened further at the feeling of your soft skin under his rough, calloused hand.

"'s fine," you felt your cheeks warm at the feeling of his large, warm hand on yours. Despite yourself and the topic of conversation, butterflies erupted in your stomach.

He left his hand there, feeling a bit like he was taking advantage of the situation but unable to pull himself away. He liked the way your lips parted and your eyes widened ever so slightly when he touched you. "So you're both runnin' toward and away from somethin' then?"

"Yeah, I s'pose," you nodded. He reluctantly pulled his hand back to the steering wheel, readjusting himself in his seat to find a more comfortable position for his hard-on. You found yourself missing his touch, his skin leaving a lingering sensation on yours.

He was hyper-aware of every little movement and sound you made. The way you shifted in your seat, the little hitch in your breath, the way your thighs pressed together. He swallowed thickly, trying to focus on the road, his jaw clenching as he tried to get a handle on his body's reaction to you.

"So, what about you?" You prompted, glancing over at him. You had told him a bit about yourself and thought it only fair you got some information in return.

"Me?" He asked, his voice a bit gruff. He cleared his throat, trying not to let his gaze wander to the way your dress's neckline dipped, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of your chest. "Well, I'm headin' home. I've been away for a couple months, workin' on a ranch up north." He said, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he continued to drive.

You hummed in acknowledgement. "Did you like it?" You asked awkwardly, not really knowing what else to say. You weren't awfully good at carrying conversations.

"It was alright. Good money, good people, but it ain't home." He said with a small shrug. "'Sides, I got a lot of responsibilities back home. Family 'n all that. Couldn't stay away forever."

You nodded, listening to him explain. You were a little intrigued. You'd never been anywhere outside your home town. You yearned to travel, to see what the world—or at very least the country—had to offer beyond small town gossip and local church services.

He glanced at you, wondering what was going on inside that pretty little head of yours. He wanted to know more about you, wanted to know everything. He wanted to know what you were planning to do now, why you'd actually run from home, what you tasted like, how you'd sound moaning his name, how tight you'd be wrapped around him.

You pondered your next steps during this beat of comfortable silence. You were starving, so food seemed like it needed to be the first stop on this little roadtrip of yours. Then, you figured you'd find a bus stop and hop on the first bus outta town, letting fate decide where to take you.

As you sat there lost in thought, he was watching you intently between bouts of watching the road. He noticed the way your gaze would occasionally drift out the window, the way your hands would fidget with the hem of your dress, the way your lips would purse slightly as you seemed to be debating something in your head.

"You can just drop me at the next town," you finally spoke up, turning to look back at him as you seemed to have made up your mind. A semblance of a plan was better than no plan at all. Besides, what would this new life be without a little of the unknown. You had no idea when you left that morning that you'd run into a handsome cowboy, and that had turned out to be incredibly thrilling for you.

He frowned at the prospect of you leaving him so soon. You'd only just met, but he found himself wanting to spend more time with you. "The next town?" He repeated, echoing your words back to you again like he'd done before. "And, what's the plan when you get there, huh, sweetheart?"

"Gonna catch a bus," you shrugged noncommittally. "Go wherever the wind takes me."

He let out a short, humorless laugh, clearly expressing his disproval for your so-called plan. "You ain't never been nowhere before, have you?" He asked, already knowing the answer. You seemed so innocent, so naive. He couldn't just let you wander off alone, could he?

"Well... no," a small frown tugged at your lips. "But that's kinda the whole point of goin' where the wind takes me," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

He shook his head, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. "That's a fool-proof way to end up in some real trouble, you know. A pretty little thing like yourself, wanderin' 'round alone. You could end up anywhere, with anyone."

"Well, thus far, I've ended up here, with you," you pointed out with a small smile. "So, I'd say my plan is workin' pretty well so far."

"That's only 'cause I'm a gentleman," he said, his eyes flicking briefly to yours. You couldn't help but wonder what if he wasn't such a gentleman. You weren't completely naive. You knew about sex and had always wondered what it was like, and now, with this incredibly sexy man before you, you found your thoughts particularly impure.

He watched the way your tongue flicked out to wet your lips, the way your breathing picked up ever so slightly. He could practically see the wheels turning in that head of yours. "What're you thinkin' 'bout, sugar?"

"Oh, um, nothin'," you said softly, your body heating up as his voice, so low and husky—definitely not helping your situation—tore you from your thoughts.

"Nothin', huh?" He drawled, not believing you for a second. He had been with enough women to know that look on your face, and he was pretty sure he had a good idea of where your thoughts were headed.

You bit your lip nervously. You knew he had at least some attraction to you because you had eyes. You could see the bulge in his jeans but had done everything you could to resist staring at it, despite the growing urge to reach out and touch it. You wanted to see him, feel him, maybe even taste him, but you were completely out of your depth here.

"You're thinkin' 'bout somethin' that's makin' you bite your lip and press them pretty little thighs together," he said, his voice low and sultry. "So, why don't you just tell me what it is, hmm?"

You looked over at him, your eyes widened a bit at his forward words, also at the fact that he had noticed. Though, it wasn't exactly like you were being discrete. "Wh- I- well, it's not very ladylike," you replied sheepishly.

"Sugar, there ain't nothin' ladylike 'bout the way I'm feelin' right now either," he said, his hand moving from the steering wheel to rest high up on your thigh.

You couldn't help but laugh at his choice of words, looking up at him through your lashes as you tried to find the words. "I don't know how to um- say it." You said, your heart beating nervously in your chest at a speed that doctors would probably find concerning.

"Then show me," he encouraged, his hand slowly inching higher up on your thigh. "You can do that, can't you? Show me what you were thinkin' about?"

You hesitated before nodding. You couldn't believe you were about to give a man you'd just met head for the first time in your life, but your body was moving quicker than your brain, unbuckling your seatbelt. You pulled your legs onto the seat underneath you, kneeling on the worn leather with your body facing him. You looked at him for confirmation before you made another move.

"Atta girl," he praised, his voice husky with desire. His hand moved to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair encouragingly. "Go on, sugar. Show me what that pretty mouth can do." He shifted in his seat, spreading his legs wider to give you better access.

The lack of center console in the old truck was a blessing as your fingers fumbled with his belt. You were already nervous, and you knew you didn't have to tell him that you'd never done this before because it was written all over your face.

He watched with an amused smirk as you struggled with his belt for a moment. He found your inexperience endearing. After a beat, you finally managed to undo his belt, your shaky hands moving to his jeans, popping the button and unzipping them with much more ease.

"That's it, baby. You're doin' just fine," he encouraged, his voice strained with barely contained desire. His hips lifted slightly to help you tug his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his hard cock, the tip flushed and glistening with precum. You took in a sharp breath, your eyes widening a little. You'd seen one before but never in person and never quite that big.

"Wrap your hand around it, sugar," he instructed, his voice low and commanding. His hand tightened in your hair as you wrapped your hand around the base tentatively. "Just like that. Now, stroke it. Nice and slow." You followed his directions, slowly running your hand up and down his hard length, coaxing a low groan from his throat as his hips jumped just a little at the feeling of your soft hand on him.

"Fuck, that feels good," he groaned, his head falling back against the headrest and his grip on the wheel tightening. "Now, put that pretty mouth on me." You wrapped your lips around his hot tip, sucking gently and coaxing his precum onto your tongue.

"Mmmm... That's it, sugar. Just like that," he praised, trying to keep his eyes on the road and the truck in the correct lane. His hand guided your head, his hips gently bucking forward as he slowly pushed himself deeper into your mouth. "You're doin' so good, baby."

Your fingers flexed around the base of his cock, your grip tightening ever so slightly as yoy took more of him into your mouth, your brows furrowing in concentration while you did. "Relax your throat, baby. You can take more of me," he coached gently, his hand tightening in your hair. You did as he said, trying to relax and take more of him into your warm, wet mouth. "That's it, sugar."

The combined sounds of your heavy breathing mingled with the wet noises his cock was making as it slid in and out of your mouth. You gagged a little as the tip of his cock nudged your uvula, triggering your body's built-in safety feature against choking.

He felt you gag and knew he should have pulled you back, reassured you that you could go as slow as you needed to and that there was no need to rush, but shit, you felt so good and seemed so eager; he couldn't bring himself to stop you.

He kept pushing forward, his cock hitting the back of your throat, forcing you to swallow around him. He could feel your throat constricting around his length, and it was the most incredible feeling. You whimpered around him, your nails digging into his thighs and eyes watering, but still, you didn't pull away.

Your little whimper only spurred him on, sending a vibration through him that had him moaning, his grip on your hair bordering on painful. "You're taking it so well, baby," he praised, his voice strained with pleasure. "Shit, I'm so close."

Not long after, his hips jerked forward, and he held you in place, his cock buried in your throat as he came hard with a groan, his hot cum shooting down your throat in thick, salty streams. The unfamiliar taste clung to your tongue, even after you forced the warm liquid down your throat and pulled off of him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

He sat there for a moment, trying to catch his breath and calm his racing heart before he tucked himself back into his pants with one hand, his other keeping the truck steady. "You did so good, sugar. Real good." He murmured, his voice still husky from his orgasm.

You felt a wave of satisfaction roll over you at his praise, but you didn't know exactly what to do from here. Your plans hadn't changed just because you decided to expand your sexual horizons in the front seat of a barely-stranger's truck. Though, it felt a little awkward still asking him to let out you out at the nearest town after what you'd just done.

"We'll be comin' up to the next town soon," he said, as if reading your mind. "How 'bout you let me take you out for a bite to eat, and afterwards, if you still want me to drop you at the bus station, I'll oblige," he proposed, willing to do anything to spend more time with you.

You smiled, nodding. That seemed like a perfectly reasonable request to you. Besides, you had already planned on stopping for food before heading to the bus station anyway. "Okay, that sounds nice," you agreed softly, buckling yourself back in because safety first.

"I know a real good diner in town. They serve the best burgers and milkshakes this side of the Mississippi," he said with a grin, placing his hand back on your thigh, his thumb brushing back and forth across your skin. Your smile widened, stomach doing flips at his touch, and you found yourself thinking that maybe your adventure could wait just a little while if it meant spending more time in the handsome cowboy's presence.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee /

[nighmoons]

i enjoy how in the percy jackson fandom whenever the demigods are being drawn they are given outfits and accesories that play homage to their godly parent (e.g nico with ghouly tshirt motifs, percy with shell bracelets) when in canon these demigods are wearing an assortment of shirts and pants that they find at the bottom of a bargain bin at target, whatever that has not been destroyed in the recent war or camp shirt.

[abraxo-official]

Companion rambles: could they operate a vehicle + other random assortment of headcannons

Curie:

Knows every single part of a car. Knows every driving safety rule. Do not let her near a vehicle. Her driving style is mad-max levels of fear. She will giggle and comment about how much fun she’s having, and how she wishes she did this sooner. Danger level: 9/10. You won’t die but you’ll never look at a corvega the same.

Cait:

In trying to hotwire it, will either blow it up or will turn it on for just enough time that the alarm goes off. If she did find a functioning one, it would probably end up in a ditch. Danger level: 7/10

Deacon:

He can drive, but in the same way that a elderly person would: you don’t know if he should be behind the wheel, but goddamn it if he’s not going to Tokyo drift into the last parking spot in front of the super-duper mart. Danger level: 5/10

Danse:

Why concern himself with pre-war ruins that aren’t even technologically interesting? He *technically* can fly vertibirds, but also…heights get to him sometimes. If he did have a car, he would dive super safe and basically act like a midwestern dad. Do NOT try and merge without signaling in front of him. Danger level: 2/10

Mac:

Really good at taking cars apart. Only knows about driving from comics. TBH I think he would be the type to only learn how to ride a bike at 10+ years old. He can’t even start the car. Danger level: 0/10

Hancock:

Would try to drive but would get either lost or just confused after about a half hour. Would probably try to add a bunch of stuff on top, like a missile launcher or a turret. It would be so decked out that it wouldn’t even be functional anymore. Would take joy in doing demolition derbies with Mac. Danger level: 3/10

Piper:

She knows how a car works, but like, only from reading 4 pages of a really old manual when she was board. She claims to defunct know how they work, but has no idea what to do when she lifts the hood. Either causes an explosion or ends up breaking at least one part. Never gets it moving. 6/10

Gage:

He can probably figure it out after about a day or two of trying to compare it to a coaster. When he does start it, I think he would actually hate driving. He’s the sole one in control, with his foot on the gas the whole time, and there is no way in hell he is ready for that. Would probably make up some excuse about how raiders don’t need to use cars to make their points. 2/10

Preston:

The safest driver in the world at first, but then he starts going after bigger things. Trucks would help with transporting supplies to settlements, he argues. If we had a garrison of tanks, imagine how many people we could protect, etc. He’s not wrong, and not bad at driving, but he really needs to stop adopting every bubble-top he comes across. 3/10

Nick:

Can drive. Will drive. Then will have to confront the reality of his muscle memory being from a person he never really was. He’ll still take a spin now and then, especially if going long distances, but he prefers to walk. It’s more….him. 1/10

Longfellow:

Cars, no. Boats? Hell yeah. He’s taught just about every sailor far harbor has. But try to get him to drive on land and he will straight out refuse. It’s not who he is. 0/10

Strong:

No. Car for throwing. Inside small, only for weak human. No need metal shell to go fast. 0/10

Dogmeat:

Sticks his head out the window. Can honk the horn. 0/10

Codsworth:

Listen, somewhere in his programming is knowing how to drive a car. Also how to assemble one from 4 cans and a high powered magnet. Can drive it either completely normal and safe or in a way that would make vin diesel scared. 7/10

X6:

Danger level: 10/10. He would succeed in the way Hancock could not. He turns it into a weapon. Stuff of nightmares. Avoid at all costs.

[superiorsturgeon]

The Many Faces of Pyrrha

Pyrrha: *bending down and making a silly face so a young fan laughs* 🤪

Jaune: *staring dreamily at Pyrrha like an absolute dork* 😍

Nora: *bumps Jaune’s shoulder* Whatcha thinking about, fearless leader? 😏

Jaune: I’m just thinking how lucky I am to see the real Pyrrha…! You know, the side that the public doesn’t get to see! 🥰

———————————————————

Headline: All-Star Huntress Pyrrha Nikos shares her laser-focused approach to diet for maximum performance!

Jaune/Pyrrha: *scarfing down waffle fries in a fry-eating contest*

Pyrrha: *shoves the last waffle fry in her mouth and jumps up for a crumb-covered victory dance* MMMF-MMFF!!! 😁

Jaune: *slowly munches his last fry* Beat me again, Pyr…! 🥰

———————————————————

Breaking: Exclusive video of Invincible Girl Pyrrha Nikos and her partner attending New Atlas Ball in stunning custom dress to celebrate her recent tournament victory!

Jaune: *playing MushroomKart 6* …come on…come on…almost there…I have you this time…! 😬

Pyrrha: Not if I blue-shell you first! 😈

Pyrrha: *snipes Jaune and clinches first place*

Pyrrha: HA!! Pay up, beloved!! 😜

Jaune: *hands over his hoodie* 🙄

Pyrrha: *commences ridiculous Dork Dance™️ in Jaune’s hoodie* 😁

———————————————————

Highlights from The Invincible Girl’s BRUTAL takedown of an ENTIRE TEAM by KNOCKOUT in Combat Championship!

Jaune: *holds up his Scroll* Hey, Pyr, my sister sent me a video of the kitten she’s fostering!

Pyrrha: *gasp* 😍

Pyrrha: It’s so WIDDLE!!!! Look at those tiny fwuffy paws and his widdle bumper-car tail!! I just wanna cuddle him and nuzzle his fuzzy tummy and kiss right between those widdle ears and-[assorted undignified gibberish]

———————————————————

Top 10 Sports Stories: Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop! Pyrrha Nikos shares her insane daily training regimen!

Jaune: …Pyr…

Pyrrha: Mmm…*hugging Jaune tight and preventing him from getting out of bed* 😪

Jaune: Pyrrha, we need to get up…!

Pyrrha: *squeezes tighter* Nooo…! 😣

Jaune: You need to get up for your morning jog! Also we both have meetings today and I have to make breakfast!

Pyrrha: *drags Jaune deeper into blankets* Can’t we just pick up a muffin on the way…? 😩

———————————————————

Jaune: 😊

Nora: *pokes Jaune’s ribs* Sounds like Jaune-Jaune’s in looo~oove! 😆

Jaune: What can I say? She’s an angel…! 🥰

Pyrrha: *snort-laughing* Jaune! You have to see this video Ruby sent me of her corgi! He’s so-*snort*-so adorable!!! 🤣

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Jeff: When I said bring me back something from the beach this wasn’t what I meant.

Y/N, holding an assortment of sea shells: Well what did you want?

Jeff: I meant like a seagull or something.

[tanuki-kimono]

Fresh summery pattern for this unusual furisode, depicting kaizukushi (assorted shells) among raging waves

[pineconepie]

What do you think about platonic yandere mermaid with a willing reader?

TW: Attempted kidnapping, parental yandere, infantilization, depressed reader (nothing too sad),

...

Life has never been easy for you. It's dead end job after the next, stress toppled upon stress, and no time to do what you love. At least, when you still had the energy.

As the years have dragged on, that fire inside of you seemed to dim. Hobbies that once filled you with passion became a chore.

The only thing that brightens your day are walks to the beach, like today.

You sit at the dock and take off your shoes. No one ever really visits this place. Even if people did come by, it's too cold for most people to enjoy. Not you though. You wiggle your toes in the icy ocean water as it laps over your feet.

Something gently brushes your leg, making you jolt.

You relax when you realize it was probably a large wave or a piece of seaweed. The calm quickly dissipates when it happens again, this time more insistent. You look around for whatever was touching you, but can't find anything.

Recently, your visits to the beach have been different, more strange. Sometimes you'd feel like you were being watched, and when you came to the beach to talk to yourself and lament your own sadness, you'd find a pile of seashells or a dead fish next to you, that certainly wasn't there before.

Though it unnerves you, no one else has shown up to claim the dock as theirs, and it's a routine you don't want to break just yet.

"I think I'm finally losing it," you laugh to yourself, rubbing a hand over your face.

"No, I do not think so."

You almost jump up in surprise, looking behind you to see who said that. When you turn back to the ocean, you're faced with a... man?

He has long, slightly messy off-white hair and vibrant blue eyes.

His ears are longer, too, pointing into triangles at their tips. He stares at you curiously, eyes wide with interest.

"Oh my God!" You put a hand over your heart. "Jeez, you scared me! How long have you been watching me?"

The man shrugs. "Long enough." His voice is gravelly and deep, as if it hasn't been used often. "I did not mean to startle you." He blinks slowly at you.

"Yeah, well..." you mutter, turning your head away from him. Now you feel embarrassed with the knowledge that someone heard you talking to yourself. "What are you even doing here? Where did you come from?"

"The sea."

"Yeah...okay," you deadpan. If you're crazy, at least this guy beats you in that department. "Well, since you've apparently seen me here many times, you know my life story. Who are you?"

The man thinks for a moment before speaking. "Indigo. And you're (Y/n), yes?" he smiles widely when your mouth drops open. "I told you I've watched you a lot. Besides, you speak so often to yourself. About how much you despise your job and other such things. A child shouldn't need to go through all of that stress."

A what? You gape at him. This is so strange. Everything about him feels strange.

He sinks down below the water only to resurface moments later with a handful of shells and assorted beach items. One hand holds them all out to you.

"Would you like these?"

Maybe you are the crazy one, because you hesitantly reach out to take them. They're beautiful, like all the other shells you'd find next to you. You blink. "Were you the one giving me shells and... fish?" Indigo nods. "Why?"

He smiles. "I don't like seeing you sad, which seems to be often. I wanted to cheer you up. And the fish is to make sure you don't go hungry, but you never take it." He pouts and rests his arms on the wood beside you. "I hope you aren't neglecting yourself. Younglings like yourself should not be doing so. It makes me sad."

You must admit, he's very sweet. For a moment, you're about to thank him, when you see something sparkling under the water.

"Are you wearing a mermaid tail...?"

Indigo meets to where you're gazing at, chuckling. "It isn't a costume, little one."

You huff in offense and cross your arms, but lean over the edge of the dock to get a better look at his tail anyway. He gently splashes you with it, making you jolt back in shock.

"W-what?" It takes you a moment to comprehend it, and when you do, you gasp, pulling him closer by the shoulders to look closer at it. It sparkles with iridescence, looking beautiful in the raising moonlight. You're breathless. "This is—wow! Am I hallucinating right now?"

His hands land atop yours on his shoulders, a big grin spread across his face.

His skin feels slick and moist, probably because he spends most of his time underwater. "No, sweetheart," he says fondly. "I am as real as you are. I hope I'm not scaring you even more. Humans are easily startled things, I've noticed."

"Oh, no, not at all," you laugh. Your mind spins with excitement, not fear. "I mean, I've always known there had to be things existing besides humans, but to see it myself is... wow." You realize you're still holding onto his shoulders and let go. "Sorry about that, um..."

"It's okay, sweetheart," Indigo giggles. His fingers wrap around yours loosely. He hums, running his thumb across the palm of your hand. "Your hands are smaller than mine. Soft too. I've heard your rants; to me, it sounds like human life isn't quite meant for you." He looks up at you.

"Probably," you shrug. "If I could've, I would have stayed a kid forever." As soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel embarrassed for saying them in front of him.

He smiles though, not a single sign of judgment in his gaze. "Then why don't you?"

"I can't, really. That's not how it works," you try to explain. Indigo doesn't look any less confused. "When you're an adult, you have to grow up mentally too, or else people think you're weird. Even if it's something small, like sleeping with plushies or watching cartoons." You pause to glance at him. "You know what those things are, right?"

Indigo nods. "I can get the idea, I think." Then he frowns. "But that sounds dreadful. Merfolk get to choose when to mature and leave the nest whenever they want without judgment."

"That does sound nice." You can imagine it; the freedom to just exist the way you please.

It almost reminds you of some fictional world out of a fairy tale.

Something from a movie.

He pauses, then pulls himself upwards to sit by your side, much to your shock. The air feels cold against you, until his arm drapes over your body. Despite being wet, he's warm. You find yourself leaning into his hold.

"How long has it been since someone held you?"

The question catches you off guard. How long had it been? You lean further into him. "I can't even remember." Indigo holds you tighter. He smells salty, like the sea itself. It makes you want to fall asleep. When was the last time you got a good night's rest? You close your eyes.

His chest rumbles when he speaks. "Merfolk have strong familial instincts. I have read books on humans stating they also have the same instincts, but it doesn't appear so for you. If it were true, your parents would still be taking care of you," he coos. A hand strokes your cheek. "You must be feeling so neglected. Unloved, unwanted."

"I've learned to accept it, at least," you say sadly.

"Don't!" he exclaims loudly, and you jump. Immediately he sighs and holds you closer. "Don't say that, little one. No one should be without the affection and attention they deserve, especially children like you. I cannot bear seeing you cry like that anymore." His voice lowers to a whisper. "Please let me help you."

Something wet lands on your forehead and slides down your face, making you wipe it away in confusion.

Indigo leans away from you with an apologetic smile on his face. You stare up at his tear-stained face in shock.

"A-are you okay?" you ask with worry lacing your tone. You reach up to touch the side of his face, wiping the tears away with your thumb. Indigo only seems to sob harder at that.

"No matter what I gave you, it never made you smile. For days I watched you crying about how you hated your life, all alone. I just wish I could—" he chokes on his words and stops, wrapping his arms around you. It hurts, almost suffocating you because of how strong he's holding you. "Whenever you cried, I cried with you. It always broke my heart to see you so sad." He buries his head into your hair and sniffles.

You have no clue what to say, so you just rub circles into his back. This poor man just wants to see you happy, but none of the items he'd bring you worked, no matter how beautiful or shiny they looked.

"If I had known I wasn't just going crazy, I would've appreciated them," you try to comfort him.

"Then why didn't you eat any of the fish I gave you?" He looks at you with his sapphire blue eyes, sad.

You nervously smile. "Well, uh... humans usually need cooked food or else we could get sick." You watch in shock as another bout of sadness overcomes him again and he hugs you back to his chest.

"I did not know that!" he cries. "Oh Gods, I could've gotten my own child sick..."

You're about to say that you're not actually his kid when you decide against it.

He obviously thinks very strongly that you're still young, and you're sure he knows that you're an adult. Something tells you that it'll only hurt his feelings if you argue about it, so you stay silent, letting him have his moment.

After awhile he calms down, loosening his grip but not letting go. "Please... live with me," Indigo says. "I live in an underwater cave far below here, where I can keep you safe and hidden from everyone else. Let me protect you from all of it. I'll cook your meat and warm your bed and love you more than your parents ever did. Please let me take care of you."

You sigh. "I can't do that." As much as you want to. "I have a life here, and I barely know you."

"But you are miserable."

"I think living in a cave with nothing to do sounds pretty miserable too, all things considered."

He looks distraught for a second, but then calms himself. "Okay."

"Well, I'll still visit," you offer. He says nothing. "Well... uh, I gotta go..."

Just as you stand, he tries to pull you back into the water. Inhaling sharply, you clutch onto the wooden beams of the dock. You manage to kick him off and scurry out of reach.

Your blood runs cold when he glares at you, demeanor changing as he cries and yells for you to stop and come back. The expression feels scary, not right, like it goes against the laws of the universe to see on him.

You feel a mixture of terror, guilt, and heartbreak as you rush off the dock and don't look back at Indigo. At least he can't chase after you.

...

A few weeks pass by, and life only gets more stressful, even worse than before.

You keep thinking about Indigo and his offer. What would happen if you just said yes? What could possibly await you if you took his hand and followed him into the ocean? What if you just abandoned your old life altogether and accepted the new one he spoke of?

An escape.

The thought lingers in your head long after it had came.

Your life is already horrible enough as it is; bills and taxes to pay, friends turning their backs on you and talking badly behind it, a boss who does everything to make your life hell for no reason...

Is there any reason to say no?

Before you know it, you're standing back on that same old beach with a suitcase. You hope most of the things inside it won't be ruined by the water.

It's night time, and you wonder if Indigo will even be around, let alone willing to speak to you after rejecting his offer and running off.

You stand by the edge of the dock and call his name.

No answer.

You sigh and sit down, burying your head in your hands. It takes you a few minutes to notice the sound of the water sloshing quietly. It gets louder as you lift your head.

"(Y/n)!" He lunges for you, pulling you into his trembling arms. The hug is so tight you feel you might choke. "(Y/n)... (Y/n)...!" His tail swishes around in happiness. He pulls back to repeatedly kiss your forehead. "Please don't ever do that to me again!"

He's acting like he presumed you were dead, and you wouldn't be shocked if that was a genuine worry of his. You pull away slightly. "I-I... wanted to talk about... you know, your offer..." Indigo looks at you with wide, hopeful eyes. You breathe in slowly before continuing. "If it still stands... I wanted to tell you I—"

"Yes!" Indigo grabs your arms. "Yes! A thousand times yes! Oh, Papa will make you so happy and loved, sweetheart! Don't you worry; no more bad guys or work. Nothing bad will ever touch you again, not my baby." He squeezes you tight and nuzzles his cheek to yours.

Despite everything, despite the suddenness of it all, something about this feels so right. You feel safe in his embrace. Even better, you're happy. Genuinely happy, like you haven't felt in years. Indigo looks at you with the widest grin you've ever seen when you hug him back.

"Papa?" you mumble, not thinking much of it before saying so.

Indigo blinks in surprise, then beams. He picks up your chin and kisses your cheek.

"You'll always be safe here with Papa. Safe from all the big, scary monsters," he smiles widely.

"I brought a suitcase," you tell him, gesturing to all your items. "Uh, blankets, changes of clothes, essentials, some plushies..." At 'plushies,' Indigo practically shimmers with happiness.

"Aww, you have toys," he croons, looking like he could burst from excitement. "Oh, you're going to love it down here, sweetheart. Just wait until you see our home. Hold your breath now, and hold onto Papa." He lifts you up in one swift motion with just one arm. Its clear merfolk are naturally stronger, as he holds onto your suitcase with the other. "Ready?"

You nod and suck in a breath, closing your eyes shut when he dives underwater. Instead of coldness like you expected, Indigo's body warmth protects you from the chill.

It isn't long before you open your eyes and take in the sight around you, in awe. There's schools of fish swimming along coral reefs of vibrant colors, and the moonlight hits the water surface, illuminating the dark depths around you two.

He swims into a cave, and lifts you out of the water.

When you wipe the water out of your eyes, the first thing you notice is how cozy it looks for a cave.

There's no electric appliances anywhere, so torches are lit on a rock for light. Everything is handmade looking. There's seashells everywhere, decorating walls, chairs, and shelves of old, worn books.

At the corner is a nest-like pile of what appears to be seaweed, woven together as bedding.

It looks lived in and sweet, something out of a children's book. When you glance back at Indigo, he has the widest smile plastered across his face. There's hope and excitement twinkling in his eyes.

"What do you think?"

"It's cute."

His chest puffs out in pride. "Thank you." He walks towards the makeshift bed. "This is where we sleep, of course. The nest is a lot softer than it looks." He gently tosses the suitcase down. He notices your confused frown. "Ah, merfolk's families tend to share one giant nest with their offspring for years. It's good for their protection."

"Won't you, like, suffocate, if you sleep out of water?"

He laughs. "No, of course not. My gills work both ways, so whether I'm above or below water, I'm fine. Oh, and I have learnt how to cook food as well. Thermal vents aren't very convenient for cooking meat, but I figured it out." He notices you're shivering and gasps, rushing to your side. "Are you cold, sweetheart?"

"I mean, yeah, kind of..." You look up at the cave roof. Water drips through the cracks. "It's pretty chilly down here."

"I apologize. I should've thought of that sooner. Merfolk don't exactly require large amounts of heat, so I forgot. Papa's going to get you out of those wet clothing, is that okay?"

You nod, lifting your arms up and allowing him.

He makes quick work of it, humming under his breath and wrapping a large fur blanket around you securely. "We can wait for your other clothing to dry properly, but until then, this will have to do."

When he cradles you back to his chest, you feel like a newborn - swaddled in his arms and pressed against his bare skin. He carries you somewhere deeper into the cave, into an area that you hadn't noticed before.

In the middle is a crack in the ground under the water, where steam emits, as if its connected to the thermal vents Indigo mentioned. He sits you down gently on a nearby rock and grabs a nearby raw fish, stabbing it with a stick.

He swims back to the bottom, and though you can hardly see anything through the water, you can assume he's cooking it with the vent.

In less than ten minutes he resurfaces with cooked fish. You're impressed.

"It smells great," you comment. "You are aware you could also probably just use the torch, right?"

"Oh, I know," Indigo replies nonchalantly. "It'd just take longer than this method, which can cook meat fairly quickly. Besides, fire is quite dangerous." He sets the fish down on a plate made of something similar to clay and places it in front of you.

He watches you closely, smiling expectantly at you.

"You didn't give me silverware," you mutter.

He chuckles. "You'll eat with your hands now, little one. I heard humans eat with weird metal objects, which seems quite frivolous to me. We are all animals, after all, even if humans aren't connected to nature the same way others are." He reaches forward with his sharp claws and caringly slices your fish into tiny pieces. He moves a chunk closer to your face. "Here, Papa will feed you."

And you let him, opening your mouth and swallowing down the surprisingly delicious fish. Indigo seems pleased. It continues on like that until your tummy feels full. He claps.

"My baby ate all of their dinner. Good job." He kisses your forehead. "Now, I think today has been tiring for you, so let's get ready for bedtime, hm?"

Your eyelids droop slightly as you realize how tired you really are. He smiles softly, understanding as he lifts you up in his arms yet again.

You lay your head against his collarbone, wrapped up in the soft warmth of the fur. He takes you back to the nest, laying you down gently atop the smooth, soft surface, then crawling in himself.

He settles with his tail coiled around both of you and presses your ear against his chest. With the rise and fall of his breath and the steady beat of his heart, you quickly begin to fall asleep.

"G'night, Papa," you whisper. For some reason, calling him that feels right.

Indigo chuckles, voice breaking. "Goodnight, my little one. Papa loves you so very much. He'll never let go of you."

You're too sleepy to even register he's crying while holding you fiercely. You just bury your face deeper into his arms and drift off.

[relia-robot-writes]

The slide projector clicked, and the lecturer at the front of the dark classroom gestured at the picture on the wall. "This," she said, "is a normal, healthy clockwork doll."

The picture displayed a porcelain doll, arms at its side, and that same doll opened up to reveal the clockwork inside. There were a few titters from the audience.

"Oh, come now, you'll be proper witches soon. You can't be giggling at the first sight of clockwork or you'll never get anything done." There was a click as the slide projector advanced, and a low murmur spread through the class at the sight of the new image. Evidently the same doll on the left, but on the right the clockwork had been completely replaced with a green slime. "Physarum Keramimesis, also called the doll mimic. This is the third stage of its life cycle, where it forms a hard pseudo-ceramic shell and moves about in search of a place to release its spores. Some specimens have been shown to be highly intelligent, for a simple slime. They can be taken in and given orders much like a doll, but do not possess true loyalty. Note the slight deviation of the runes here on the upper arms and torso, as well as the slight discoloration of the hair at the roots. This variety is harmless, however..."

The slide projector advanced again, and this time there were gasps of alarm. The left side once again looked identical, but the right side had green slime all around the existing clockwork, jamming it in place. "Phytomexia Plasmokeramikos. A parasitic slime mold that spreads from doll to doll, preventing it from displaying signs of illness. Like Keramimesis, it has enough intelligence to follow orders, but unlike Keramimesis, most of its 'cleaning' activities are actually spreading spores within its environment in the hopes of infecting other nearby dolls. There are still signs, though - note the discoloration at the joints, particularly nearest to the torso." The projector clicked again to show the doll surrounded by a greenish-yellow aura. "And here, through thaumic resonance, the aura can be seen leaking into the doll's standard aura."

Uneasy murmurs spread through the classroom for a moment, only to be interrupted by the lecturer swinging her pointer down on the table. "But! This slime must not be confused with our following slime!"

The projector clicked again. The doll on the left once again appeared identical, and on the right, the same green slime - but this time, instead of attaching itself to the clockwork, it lined the inside of the porcelain like a second shell. "Physarum Parakeramikos, also known as 'The Doll's Helper'. Although this slime has the same appearance as Plasmokeramikos, this slime actually enters into a symbiotic relationship with the doll. It can repair hairline fractures within the doll's porcelain, prevent particles such as Plasmokeramikos spores from entering the doll, and generally improve the doll's lifespan and responsiveness. It is unfortunate that in their early life cycles, Plasmokeramikos and Parakeramikos appear extremely similar. The rest of today's lecture will primarily be on how to distinguish between the parasite and the symbiote. This will be on the mid-term, so please be sure to take notes."

There was assorted grumbling from the room as the audience shuffled around for pencils and notebooks.

[xoxochb]

more percy x reader fluffy fluff 🙏🙏🙏🔥🔥

— sunburnt

warnings: none, just fluff! pairings: percy jackson x fem! reader

at camp half-blood things were anything but calm. there was always camper duties, a monster to kill, a quest, new campers, them getting claimed, training, et cetera. but on those rare occasions when you had time to yourself, disregarding your surroundings, you enjoyed a visit to the beach with your son of poseidon boyfriend. you stayed back on the sand as percy went back out into the water to collect seashells for your necklaces and bracelets you craft just for him. he comes back moments later with arms filled to the brim, dropping them into your tote bag you had brought along for this specific reason

“holy shit how’d you find all those?” you sit up and take your sunglasses off and onto your head

“must be a son of poseidon thing. there was a ton of them”

“sick!”

you sit criss-crossed and peak into the bag filled with shells of all assortments of colors. a beaming smile takes over your lips. you wave your hands, beckoning to percy who still stands before you. “come here, my love”

and he gladly does so, taking it upon himself to copy your position in front of you, eliciting a light escaping your mouth. you cup his face in between your hands and rub your thumbs over his red cheeks

“you’re sunburnt, silly boy” you whisper, before you place a kiss to each cheek “I told you to put sunscreen on”

“okay, mom, I’ll remember next time”

you give him a look of disapproval and shake your head, patting your lap. he almost instantly understands your indication and moves himself to rest his head to where you had asked. you thread a hand through his wet hair as he places pecks over your thighs. you take a string from your bag and a collection of seashells and begin the bracelet-making process. this may just be the most at peace you’ll be all week. this may be one of the only times besides the night you’ll get to be alone with percy. that escalated very quickly, you curse your brain and adhd for the suddenly depressing thoughts. you put the string and shells back in your bag and lift percy from your lap, cradling his face again and placing a kiss to his lips. when he pulls back you chase his warmth but he stops you, making you frown in response

“not that I don’t love this, because I do— but what is this for?”

“just thinking” you lean in, but again you’re stopped, replacing your frown with a pout

“about what?”

fuck the pout, you switch that for a mischievous grin. “you”

“sounds about right”

percy laughs and connects your lips again, in complete and utter euphoria you can’t help the moan that comes along with this action. and maybe just for now you can discard all of your worrisome thoughts as you tangle yourself with your boyfriend

[crownofgildedlilies]

my peaceful nights belong to you

in which: a son of poseidon has himself convinced a daughter of athena doesn’t want to listen to him complain.

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of athena!reader

warnings: angst, my poor percy has been through TOO MUCH

tropes: hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers

word count: 2.1k

a/n: friendly reminder that request r open (esp for headcanons) and bc I have a four hour layover tmrw I will be absolutely active on here. plz enjoy. also, this is inspired by a tiktok I saw that said Percy's trauma is so overlooked. so here's me not overlooking it.

All eyes were on the great Percy Jackson.

Yours were, too, don’t be fooled. You had always found him impossible to look away from. But it wasn’t admiration you were studying him with as tales of his quests were told and retold and embellished around the bonfire. Quests you had been on, each and every time.

No, you were watching him with concern.

Because the son of the sea was drowning in all the attention.

It was almost painful for you to watch, but you couldn't look away.

A beautiful train wreck, you supposed, studying Percy's uncomfortable but obliging conversation with one of the newer sons of Ares who hadn't been around for Kronos or Gaea and simply thought fighting in those wars had been fun.

But people had died. Your people, your friends. It was war, and it was painful, and even though you were the daughter of the war goddess, you hated it with every inch of your being.

No amount of planning on your behalf could have saved Beckendorf. There was no stopping Leo from sacrificing himself.

"That's called being a demigod," Percy had told you one day, offhanded, sometime between nearly dying in a volcanic explosion and being stolen from her by Hera.

"That doesn't mean we have to stand idly by and accept it," You had countered, frowning, and Percy must have realized he'd said something that had upset you, because he had pulled you into a hug and muttered an apology you still hadn't worked out was necessary or not.

But what you did know was that he was your best friend, that you had been in love with him since you were both fourteen, and he absolutely did not want to talk about all his past glories like a good little Greek hero.

Seated on a front-row bench with Grover on on side and an assortment of other campers you knew he wasn't close with surrounding him, you knew you had to run a rescue mission.

Especially since Grover was too distracted by eating his marshmallow roasting stick to realize how tense Percy was as the Ares kid went on and on.

"Perce, there you are." You wedged yourself into the not-entirely open spot next to your best friend, smile on your lips and a sly look in your eyes. Percy's own widened in sight relief, his arm wrapping loosely around your shoulders in a casual movement that was entirely too familiar. "Thought you ran off on me."

"Never," He sighed, some of his tension already dissipating. You grinned a little unevenly at him, not wanting to give the others watching any clues that the great Percy Jackson wasn't completely and utterly alright.

"Good," You bumped him with your shoulder, and he squeezed his arm around you for just a brief moment, tugging you close to his side. You had to turn and face the young Ares boy to keep yourself focused. "How are your archery lessons coming?"

The new camper looked slightly put out about the change in conversation, but you pinned your stare on him and didn't back down. For a moment, you thought he would continue to pester Percy with questions about fighting in two wars, even with you sending up very clear signals that neither of you were interested.

But the boy made the right choice, launching into a rant about how long range combat was not his strength.

Halfway through the story about almost shooting Connor Stoll's foot, you felt Percy lean towards you, his breath warm against the shell of your ear as he dropped his voice to a whisper, meant only for you.

"Thank you,"

Since you had taken half a seat, your body was pressed firmly against his from your ankles to your shoulders. His touch warmed your skin like a sunny day on the beach, and you weren't sure if it was a son of Poseidon thing or a Percy Jackson thing.

So instead of answering him, you set one of your hands on his leg, just above his knee, and squeezed.

The moon was shining over camp when you gave up on finding sleep and decided to sneak out.

You’d been around long enough to know just how to sweet talk Mr. D into letting you be out past curfew, and Chiron had a soft spot for you, since you helped save the world. Twice. It was the harpies catching you that you were afraid of.

Travis Stoll had almost learned the hard way that Mr. D was not kidding about them eating campers.

But children of Athena had passed on the secret to sneaking out through generations, and you were exploiting that very information for a midnight trip to the lake to stargaze there when you spotted movement on the roof of Cabin Three.

Really, you weren't in control of your own actions as you turned swiftly to change course. Maybe it was Tyche with her luck or Aphrodite with her meddling in the affairs of the heart that had you scaling the side of Poseidon's cabin, a path you had taken more than once.

Or maybe, for once, you couldn't blame the gods. Maybe you were the only one making the choices that had you settling on your back beside Percy on the slanted cabin roof.

He hadn't seemed all too surprised to see you, but all he offered in way of greeting was a nod before he returned to studying the sky above.

You only let the silence last for three minutes, a gnawing feeling in the pits of your stomach unable to let it be.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked, voiced simultaneously quiet and startlingly loud in the otherwise silent night. With your head turned to watch his side profile, you watched him tumble from his thoughts and back onto that rooftop, with you.

"What?" He was playing coy, you knew him well enough. What you didn't understand was why he was holding back with you, of all people. You, who had been there with him from the night Grover dragged him over Half-Blood Hill. Who had followed him and Grover and Annabeth across the country to save his mom, who fought Luke and Kronos with him, and mourned the loss of so many friends.

You, who hadn't slept for six months when he disappeared, only to find him in New Rome with the claim that he had forgotten everyone and everything but you.

His tether to his life. His best friend. His something more.

"About whatever is bothering you so much tonight." You shot him a flat look, but his was still doing a good job at avoiding your eye. Frowning, you nudged him with your elbow. "I saw you at the bonfire, Perce. Something is eating at you."

For a moment, it was silent. And then Percy drew in a deep breath, like he was readying himself for something, but he still hadn't looked at you.

"I guess I’ve just been thinking about just… everything." He sighed, but you could hear the apprehension and exhaustion in his voice. He was still keeping things back, but you couldn't understand why. And that killed you, as a child of Athena. "I've been fighting since I—we—were twelve. It's too..."

"Too what?" You prompted when he trailed off, his voice dying in the warm night air. Your hand brushed against his on the rooftop between your bodies, and you considered the risks of just grabbing his hand and squeezing to offer comfort while he sorted through his thoughts.

"Forget it." He shook his head, and your heart sunk. "You don’t want to hear me complain."

You frowned, twisting to face the sky and wracking your Athena blessed mind for some way to prove to him that you did, in fact, want to hear it. You wanted to hear anything, ever, that he had to say.

But when words failed you, actions didn’t, and you finally stopped pretending to accidentally brush your pinky against his and just wrapped your hand around his.

You both stayed like that for a while, quiet and thinking, until you turned your head to face him, unsurprised to find a stormy look on his face while he still studied the stars. Maybe he was thinking of Zoë, of all the others the two of you had lost over the years.

But you were thinking about him, only.

"I’ve been fighting with you since you came to camp," Your words were quiet, little more than a summer’s breeze brushing across Percy’s skin, but you knew he heard you. "But maybe now we’re not fighting monsters anymore. Maybe we’re fighting the memories and scars they left behind. But I’m still fighting with you, Percy."

He turned his head, then, his eyes finding yours like they were always meant to. And, deep down, part of you knew they were.

Every shared glance during combat, or after a stupid joke, or when a battle ended and all either of you could do was search the carnage for a hint of the other—those eyes had found you.

"I’m just so scared I’ll never get to live my life.” Percy confessed, voice hauntingly hollow. You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back like a lifeline. “I don’t know if I’m running away from what’s already happened or into the next big mess. And what if next time… what if…"

He trailed off, eyes wide in panic, a bit of desperation. You squeezed his hand again, because you couldn’t give him the words. He needed to find them himself.

Percy screwed his eyes shut and darted forward, slotting his mouth over yours in an unexpected, horribly angled kiss. Teeth clashed together, your bottom lip caught in the mayhem and you gasped at the slight bite of pain.

He jumped back like you had burned him, propped up on one arm as he leaned on his side next to you.

"I, shit, I shouldn’t have—" He fumbled for words, already trying to shuffle further away from you, but you held tight onto his hand to keep him close, sitting up to follow him. "Please, let’s just forget about this, okay? I just, I got caught up in everything and—"

"Tell me you didn’t want to kiss me, then." You promoted, brows knitted together as you studied his face, desperate for a glimpse of how he was feeling revealed to you in the moonlight. "Because if you can’t say it meant nothing to you, you need to tell me, right now."

"I… can’t say it."

And just like that, you were the one kissing him, one hand curving around the back of his neck to keep him close while the other remained threaded through his fingers. His free hand reached up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin as if he needed confirmation that this was real, that you were real.

When you finally pulled apart to breathe, you didn’t go far. Not from him. Never from him.

"I was worried next time I wouldn’t get the chance to do that." Percy finished his thought from before, a little dazed from the kiss you both had been long awaiting, apparently. You smiled softly and closed your eyes, pressing your forehead against his.

"If you’re running towards the next prophecy, I’ll run with you." You promised, pausing only briefly to shift your position so you and Percy were laying on the roof again, only this time your head was propped on his chest and his arm was wrapped securely around you. "But if you want to sit up here and talk about the monsters you’re running from, I’ll do that, too."

"Thank you." He echoed his words from the earlier bonfire. And you could tell from his voice that he really was thankful. Because as tough as he was, Percy Jackson was still half mortal. "I…" He started, the air thick with tension about what he was going to confess. "I keep having dreams about Tartarus."

You let him talk, devoting your attention and mind to him, tracing shapes and stars and waves against his chest by your head while he spoke.

Time moved quickly that way, with talk of his fears and what weighed heavily on his mind broken up only when his throat would clog with emotion and you would tilt your head up to kiss away the memory long enough for him to regain his composure.

Because no one knew him better than you, and he didn't have to be the great Percy Jackson with you.

He could just be Percy, the boy who was haunted by his past and terrified of his future.

And you would give him all of your peaceful nights for him to have only one.

[vanilladove]

₊˚.༄ hide + seek

spooktober 2024 masterlist

☾₊‧⁺˖pairing: asylum patient!nikolai gogol x asylum attendant!fem!reader

☾₊‧⁺˖genre: angst + fluff; slightly suggestive

☾₊‧⁺˖content warnings: manipulation/mind games, infidelity, nikolai's a bit of a meanie in this one lol

☾₊‧⁺˖notes: meant to follow the events + be a side story of the get free series (between pt 1) just pretend it's still halloween okay

☾₊‧⁺˖ word count: 5.3k

"Happy Halloween!" You chirped happily, handing Nikolai a pumpkin-decorated gift bag with his favorite Ukranian candies and sweets. There was an assortment of minky binky, roshen, and ABK chocolates inside⎯which you'd learned were his childhood favorites.

Your patient paused before opening the bag and observing the treats inside. He looked...melancholic almost? He took the candies out in his hand and turned them all over to look closer at the packaging, silent.

You opened your mouth to speak but closed it, unsure if you did the right thing. Your husband had warned you not to bring gifts for any of the patients⎯and especially not Nikolai⎯because it would promote unwanted feelings and attachment, but you brought them behind his back anyway. You hated how strict all the protocols in place were, and how they treated the patients like they were evil monsters instead of normal people that just needed help. After all, Nikolai wasn't a monster. To you, he was⎯

Arms wrapping around your waist and warm breath hitting the shell of your ears forced you out of your thoughts, and you yelped as you felt Nikolai's toned body pressing into yours, "Thank you, dove~" He patted your head affectionately and you felt some loose strands of his white hair tickle your face. "Halloween is actually my favorite holiday, y'know?" He hugged you closer, and you felt your back hit the wall of his holding room.

"When I was a kid, my neighbors and I used to go around the nearby houses and say 'Varyatyky or sweets!' It was meant to be a a tradition to 'overcome' evil spirits!" You nodded and tapped on his chest to tell him he was crushing you, and he finally released you from his grip.

When he pulled away, his once sad eyes were now sparkling with excitement, and you gave him a questioning look, which he seemed to catch on to, "Ah, I was a bit sad earlier because the candies you gave me reminded me of my past life," He solemnly took your hands in his, "And I've been trying to escape the old cage I was in for a long, long time. I guess it made me feel weird..."

You tilted your head in curiosity⎯you swore that every time you thought you understood Nikolai, he always threw you off again. He giggled suddenly and spun you around, catching you back in your arms and embracing you again so your back was against his chest, and you shrieked from the slight dizziness, "You make me feel all sorts of weird emotions, ptashka, but I don't hate it."

For some reason, that made you smile softly as Nikolai rested his chin on your shoulder, his heterochromatic eyes still trained on you. You placed your hands over his, which were wrapped around your waist, and paused momentarily before peeling them off of you as usual. Your eyes caught your reflection in the steel mirror off to the side. Although distorted, you could clearly see Nikolai's body wrapped around your smaller one and how relaxed you looked. It definitely didn't look like an attendant and their patient.

It felt nice. Being held like a lover felt nice.

This was bad. He was being too affectionate, and you were playing along a little too complacently. Were you really this touch-starved? Wouldn't letting another man touch you⎯a married woman⎯like this be bad in any other situation?

Your doubts and uncertainties were interrupted when Nikolai whispered into your ear.

"Love, can we go play in the courtyard later today?"

₊˚.༄

The crisp autumnal air hit your skin, but it was nice. The orange and red foliage contrasted the stark white asylum you were in all day, and the tan trench coat you threw on helped keep you cozy and warm in your short dress. Well, that and Nikolai, who was connected to you with linked arms. He would stop every few steps to squeeze you in his arms, claiming he was "too cold and needed heat" even though he refused to put a coat on.

The patients had just finished their midday snack, so he smelled like the powder-mix apple cider that was served in the cafeteria. The scent of sour apples and cinnamon was comforting enough to you, so you didn't complain much about his antics.

You exhaled, watching your breath materialize in the chilly air, "This weather...it makes me wish I could give out candy to the trick-o-treaters," you smiled sadly to yourself, "I always like decorating the house during this time of year and seeing their happy faces when they come to our door..."

Nikolai paused, stopping your steps briefly and walking in front of you, holding both of your hands now. He walked backwards, crushing leaves under his feet, "Why don't you do it tonight, then? You get off work before they start to come out, right?"

You shook your head, "No...it's been four years since the asylum opened, and in those four years, my husband has always forced me to work the night of Halloween, so I can never celebrate." You paused, looking up to see some doves flying in the sky, but Nikolai pulled your head back down to him.

"That's a shame, dove. If you were with me, we could dress up in matching costumes together and surprise all the kids," He started skipping frantically, pulling you away from the main area of the courtyard, "Oh! I could do your hair and makeup, too, I'm pretty good at that sort of stuff, y'know? I could even make you a custom costume!" You squealed as he started to skip faster, spinning you in circles and making you dizzy. You were both getting farther away, the fountain no longer in sight.

He pulled you close to him again, his blue and green eyes wildly piercing into your shaky pupils, "If you just left him, we could make that a reality, myla." His hands grasped your arms tighter and your lightheadedness was making his words feel hypnotic, "Why don't you just leave him already? You don't even love him, do you? He hurts you; you hate him. And I hate him even more. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I fucking ha⎯"

"Ahh⎯Ow⎯" You gasped sharply from the pain of Nikolai digging his nails into your arms and pulled away from his tight hold, mind still a bit hazy. "S-Stop it, just stop it, Nikolai..." He gave you a disapproving glare, but you continued, "He's my husband and my boss, so I have to obey him. I can't just up and leave him whenever I wan⎯ack⎯!" You stepped backwards and stumbled on a stray boulder, and time felt like it went slower as you lost your balance and toppled onto the ground, your back and head hitting the dirt.

You groaned in pain, feeling the ache in your skull. Your patient, however, didn't seem too concerned and only sneered when he watched you hit the ground. You narrowed your eyes at him and felt his presence as he crouched down to assess you for any injuries. Nothing too serious.

He giggled manically while picking some dried leaves out of your hair, "Say, dove, if you really miss the kids, why don't we play a childish little game?" You grunted and tried to swat his hand away, but the dull throbbing in your head prevented you from being successful.

You tried to glare at him, but a chill ran down your spine when you glanced over to see a wide grin on his face and the same dark, unreadable look clouding his eyes, "Hmmm, why don't we play hide and seek? It's a fun game, right, ptashka?" He gleamed brightly at you again but barely gave you a chance to object, "Yeah, that sounds fun, doesn't it? How about you count to thirty and then come look for me?!"

You winced again, placing your hand over your head to try and alleviate some of the pain. How desperately you wanted to scream at Nikolai to stop and help you, but the constant pang blocked you from doing so. He tilted his head innocently, "Oh, a prize, you ask? Well..." He pondered mockingly, "What about winner decides? And no cheating, okay?" He took your phone and walkie out from the pocket of your trench coat and shut down your phone so no one could track or contact you. You whined when he threw a part of your coat over your eyes to blind you.

His presence left you as he dusted himself off and stood up again, "Thirty seconds, okay, myla?" You tried to reach for his foot, but he was long gone, and all you could do was listen to the distant crunching of leaves and hysterical giggles grow farther away from you.

Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven...

₊˚.༄

The sun had set by the time you opened your eyes again, finally mustering up the strength to get off the ground. You rubbed your back and looked around⎯it had probably been closer to thirty minutes since Nikolai had ran away.

Internally, a tick set off in your head telling you to look for him. You checked your empty pockets and decided that you should try and catch him first before reporting anything. After all, he was technically your responsibility, and the thought of your husband hounding you over losing a patient hurt your brain more than the spinning pain.

You tried to think rationally⎯if you had woken up on the ground, then surely no one had noticed both of your absences or caught Nikolai. Just calm down and try to find him.

You looked around, trying to guess where he'd ran off to, but the ground didn't give you any clues as to which direction he'd gone. Not that you were surprised, though, since he had plenty of experience running away.

It's fine, it's just a silly game⎯he didn't really run away or escape. You tried to calm your mind and think of a plan to get him. Deciding that treating this as a game would help your sanity, you cupped your hands around your mouth, "R-Ready or not, here I come!" You squeaked out, your shaky confidence showing through your voice.

You ran towards the fountain, hoping Nikolai would be there since he was always drawn to the koi fish and rose garden. You walked towards the direction of the structure, the crisp air filling your lungs as you frantically looked for him. Calm down, he's definitely there. You smiled to yourself, envisioning him playing with the fish or tossing rose petals into the water pools of the marble fountain. It was a ten-minute walk, so you tried to enjoy the fresh breeze blowing through your hair and massage the knots in your strained back.

What you weren't expecting was...nothing. There was just a maintenance worker tending to the garden and pulling out weeds. No sign of your patient. You walked around, looking behind every bush and up into each individual tree, but you still saw nothing. The gardener would glance at you occasionally, but you kept searching tirelessly, trying to go beyond the bounds of the elaborate labyrinth to see if he was hiding in a more inconspicuous spot. Still no luck.

You mustered up the courage to go up to the worker and see if he'd be any help. Maybe it was cheating, but you were starting to get impatient and doubt was beginning to sink in.

You cleared your throat, "Ahem," the worker turned around, "Excuse me, but have you seen anyone pass through here recently?"

The old worker smiled, the corners of his mouth crinkling upwards in a smile, "Well, yes, actually⎯lots of people. Anyone in particular you were looking for?"

You breathed a sigh of relief, "Have you see a tall man with white hair? It's probably in a braid, and he has heterochromia⎯one eye is green and the other is a bluish-gray with a vertical scar," The gardener only gave you a confused look, "...he's pretty young and fit..." You trailed off, concerned by the look you received.

The elderly man scratched his head, "I haven't seen anyone like that around." He paused, recognizing your attendant uniform, "Is he your patient? We can get security involved if it's a serious problem. Actually, let me radio the bos⎯"

You grabbed his hand apprehensively once you saw him reach for the walkie on his belt, "O-Oh, sorry, I just remembered I handed him off to another attendant." You let out a fake laugh, trying to reassure him no action was needed. No matter what, you couldn't get your husband involved.

The worker eyed you cautiously but then shrugged, "They really overwork you attendants so much you start to forget things, huh? I've heard you're understaffed."

You forced out another laugh and nodded, "Haha, yeah, they do..." You perked up, smiling as another precaution, "Thank you for your help, though, sir! I-I'll be on my way now, so please resume your work." You waved to him and started walking back towards where you fell.

"Young lady! Where are you headed off to? The asylum's back there!" Your eyes widened at his voice calling out after you, but you turned again, feigning confidence.

"Just taking a walk to clear my head!" You waved again, and he shrugged and tipped his hat to bid you farewell. You turned around and cursed yourself silently, both for acting suspicious and still not finding Nikolai.

As soon as you couldn't see the old gardener anymore, you started sprinting, hard, back towards your starting point. The fall air was now burning your lungs and your heart was beating violently fast, swelled with anxiety about the whole situation, and the fact that Nikolai could very well be gone by now. And it would all be your fault.

A pit formed in your stomach as you thought of all the potential repercussions you'd have to face, but also at the thought of never seeing Nikolai again. Of knowing that was your last interaction. Somehow, the thought made you want to run faster. It felt like you had to find him.

₊˚.༄

The forest. You hadn't checked the forest yet.

It was darker now, the once coral sky had turned navy blue, and the sky was much dimmer. Almost two hours had passed, but you still hadn't found Nikolai.

Despite the cold, you were sweating from anxiety. There was no way you lost him. Maybe if you called for him, he would come out of hiding? He did seem to have some sort of obsession with you. You looked around again before stepping closer to the mass of colorful trees.

"Miss, is everything alright?' You whipped your head around to see the second-to-last person you'd want to encounter at the moment⎯Lacey.

Her blonde bob was swaying from the light breeze and her emerald eyes shined with fake concern, "Where's your patient? Gogol, right? Nikolai Gogol?" She ran up to you and tried to reach for your arm, but you stepped away before she could touch you.

Somehow, you felt strange. No one had ever said Nikolai's name before, as they were too scared to acknowledge him because of all the crimes he'd committed. The way his name flowed off her tongue in such a tender way irked you for some reason.

"He's fine." You mumbled, forgetting to add a nicer tone to your voice. You coughed suddenly, remembering that Lacey was likely there for a reason, and that she'd run off to the boss immediately if she caught on to the situation at hand. "Ah, did something happen? You should be done with work by now, right? It's late."

Lacey shifted, peering over your shoulder like she was trying to look for your patient; you felt your palms getting clammy. "Well, you and Gogol have been gone for two hours, and your walkie and phone both aren't able to be contacted. The boss sent me to look for you because he was worried about you both..."

Worried, sure. Definitely not just because he was a control freak that needed to know your wherabouts all times. She gasped dramatically, bringing a hand up to her mouth, "He didn't run away, did he? He isn't with you⎯" her brows furrowed and she looked around, "Should we call security? They can deploy helicopters and dogs to search from him!"

You felt a lump in your throat when she said that, fearful of her taking action and exposing you. You reached for her shoulder reassuringly, "Oh, well, there's no need for that," you raked your mind for any sort of plausible excuse, "Nikolai's just...um...using the bathroom! He's in the woods right now, so I'm just waiting for him to finish." You tried to laugh to throw in some emotion, "Sorry I didn't tell you in the first place. It's kind of TMI and embarrassing!"

Lacey stared at you suspiciously but nodded slowly, "Oh...I see." She grimaced at the thought, "Men are really gross, aren't they? For a patient to do that...how uncivilized..." You forced another painful laugh and agreed with her, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself to shield your shaking body. You couldn't tell if she was dumb enough to believe you or not.

Lacey smiled at you, "Why don't I wait with you, then? Once Nikolai comes back, we can all walk back to the white ward, and then I'll go home!"

Your mouth felt dry. Shit, you were really going to be caught now. You couldn't tell her that you still didn't know where your patient even was. For all you knew, he could've successfully escaped the asylum premises by now. You tried to open your mouth to object, but you didn't know how to do so without making yourself look more suspicious.

Think. Think. Think, damnit.

Lacey's humming made your head hurt, but you suddenly thought of another excuse, "Oh, Lacey, could you actually bring me a new walkie? My old one and my phone died earlier, so I gave my walkie to a guard and asked him to bring me a new one, but he never did." You clasped your hands together, "They should be in the break lounge, and you can ask IT for help configuring it. That way, I can radio in, and you can head home!" You hoped that convinced her, and luckily her eyes lit up at your suggestion.

"Sure! It's honestly a little cold out here, so I'll go back inside to get you a walkie." She pouted, "I kind of wanted to meet Gogol. He's stuck to you all the time and hates all the other attendants...I'm sure we would get along, though!"

Lacey flashed the brightest smile at you, and you had to restrain yourself from throwing a rock at her sly face as you adjusted your coat. Certainly she didn't think Nikolai would make an exception for her⎯she was way too irritating and two-faced. "Well anyways, I'll head back. I'll come back to this spot afterwards with some guards to get you and Gogol." She waved goodbye to you in a childish manner before skipping away, and you watched intently until she became a small dot in the distance.

Your palms got sweaty again as you realized you had thirty minutes at most to find Nikolai. Your heartbeat increased as you ran into the forest and looked up into the branches, hoping to catch sight of him.

Still unsuccessful, you started to panic. "Kolya!" You cried out, cupping your hands over your mouth to project your shouts, "Kolya, where are you?" You ran deeper into the woods, dirtying your clean shoes and getting scratched by branches along the way. It was dark and the foliage covered the light, so you couldn't see very well.

The hairs on your neck stood up, and you heard some distant rustling. Looking up, all you saw was a dove in a tree, feeding some of the babies inside its nest. You stopped to stare for a bit before moving on, going deeper into the mess of shadows. Anxiety kept creeping up on you as you continued shouting Nikolai's name.

"Kolya, please! I give up, so you can come out now! Please, come out, please⎯" You kept running, and your throat felt dry as everything started to dawn on you. You'd been wandering for ten minutes. It was getting late, and beads of cold sweat stuck to your skin. Your body still hurt. Lacey and the guards were going to be here soon, and when they were here, they'd find out you were lying about everything, and Nikolai was actually nowhere to be found. You'd lose your job and very livelihood. Your husband would get angry and take it out on you and your family. You'd be locked away for aiding a global criminal in escaping one of the most secure places in the world. Or even worse, you'd be declared mentally insane and be stuck here, as a patient for your husband and Lacey to look down on. It was all your fault for believing you could trust Nikolai or be his friend.

Your back hit a tree trunk, and you slid down slowly, curling up into a ball. Tears flowed out of your eyes, and you whimpered to yourself. You felt ashamed and alone. For a moment, you felt used. You cried, feeling desperate. You couldn't believe you were about to ruin your life over conflicted emotions you had over an insane man. You should've just been a good, compliant wife and not follow your heart. You should've never tried to seek freedom.

"K-Kolya," you sobbed silently, "I just wanna see you...one more t-time. Don't leave me please, you..." You're all I have. You're the only person in this world I can really talk to. You couldn't speak the words out loud, in denial over your forbidden feelings. You closed your eyes as you sobbed, only looking up when something small and hard got crushed under your shoe.

You wiped your tears and nose with the sleeve of your coat, eyes focusing on a white and red striped circular object on the ground. A minky binky⎯one of the candies you'd gifted Nikolai. You got up slowly upon seeing several more leading deeper into the woods, resembling a trail of Ukranian candies.

Your feet started to pick up their pace as you followed the trail, stopping when you got to a clearing, where a short stump was surrounded by an assortment of dried leaves.

Your teary eyes widened when you finally saw your patient, glowing from the moonlight and with a dove perched on his hand. Nikolai released the bird into the night sky and smiled at you in a melancholic way. "Oh, you found me. Took you long enough, ptashka. You really are terrible at hide and seek."

Without hesitation, you ran into his arms, wrapping yourself around his frame. You helplessly gripped onto his sleeves and dug your face into his shoulder, not wanting him to see any evidence of your tears from earlier. "...I didn't think you would run away so far...I thought I lost you..."

Nikolai only laughed. "Dove, honestly," he said cheerfully, "You were never going to find me, I'm far too clever for that!" He pulled you away from his shoulder, but what he didn't expect was your face, illuminated in the moonlight, with tears clinging to your eyes and your lips and nose swollen from your earlier weeping.

"K-Kolya, please don't leave me again," you wiped your eyes and sniffled, "I was so s-scared⎯"

Nikolai's faced softened and he embraced you in his arms, stroking your hair gently and trying to comfort you. This was...strange. He'd never seen you display such strong feelings of emotion or sadness. And to think you were crying over him of all people...he didn't hate the fact he was making you cry, but it bothered him that it wasn't because he wanted you to cry. A small frown appeared on his face and his heart felt...slightly heavy from seeing you in this state.

He spoke in a soft voice, trying to reassure you with his presence. "Hey, dove...I didn't mean to make you cry, really…I was just trying to make it a little harder for you to find me, I wanted to surprise you." You continued sniffling and Nikolai used his thumb to wipe away more of your tears, trying to make them stop. "Why...Why are you so sad?"

You covered your face in embarrassment, ashamed of breaking down in front of your patient, "I⎯", you started, head screaming at you to shut up and step away, but your lightheadedness made you more vulnerable, "I thought I was going to lose my job, and I didn't want my husband to find out about us," Nikolai's head perked up, but he rubbed your back.

"Was that the only reason?" He stared into your eyes sympathetically, but also like he wanted to hear more from you.

"No...I also...was scared I'd never see you again." You exhaled shakily, "Your mannerisms, our conversations, you always holding my hands or hugging me, I don't...I don't hate it...They've made my dull life somewhat more interesting." You looked away, "If I lost that...if I lost you, I would feel so empty again. You make me...happy for some reason."

Your patient's eyes widened. Nikolai made you...happy? But he wanted to make you free. Or was he just using you to alleviate some of his boredom? Wasn't making you happy the same as him committing himself to you, and you tying him down by making the two of you codependent? But that was what he was trying to escape from...he wanted to be free from the control and ideals of others.

You went on, talking about how Nikolai was the only person you could talk to about your personal life, how he made you feel special at times, but Nikolai's own inner thoughts drowned out your words. Stop. Stop it. Stop your babbling. He fumbled a lollipop out of his pocket and stuck it into your mouth, silencing you like a baby with a pacifier. His eyes brightened, overwhelmed by you. Your eyes wavered, not being able to handle the intensity of his stare, and the same thought plagued both of your minds.

Were you catching feelings for him? Was he more attached to you than he thought he was?

Nikolai caressed your cheeks, drying the last of your tears with his dampened sleeve. He slowly kissed your eyelids, catching the saltiness of your teardrops. "Myla, the words you're saying and the game you're playing...you could make a sane man mad."

You blushed, suddenly being hyper-aware of the fact you were both alone. The thought made you shudder. Anything could happen and no one would see.

"Are you cold, dove?" You yelped when Nikolai's strong arms pulled you into his lap, so you were straddling him. You placed your hands on his shoulders and squirmed awkwardly to try and get off, but he firmly held you in place. He dug his face into the crook of your neck, "Oh, your skin's freezing. Should I warm you up?" He smirked playfully before biting down lightly on your neck, making you jerk up and gasp. He started kissing the mark, simultaneously holding your legs open and rubbing circles on your thighs. A small moan left your throat, which you instantly regretted, and you tried to close your legs, but it was no use.

You squeezed his shoulders, "H-Hey, what are you doing⎯s-stop⎯"

Nikolai giggled mockingly, "I technically won our little game of hide and seek, so this is my reward. Winner got to choose, remember?" He continued littering your neck with kisses, "I want you to treat me like your lover for ten minutes, or until we get caught." His dark eyes cut into you, "Otherwise, I'm really running away. And you won't be able to stop me." You whimpered as he licked down your skin, baring his teeth against your sweet spot, about to leave a hickey.

You mustered up some strength to push him away, "W-Wait, you can't leave a mark then." He frowned, staring up at you. You sighed, feeling defeated but knowing you didn't have any other option but to comply with his wishes, "Kiss...lower instead. The marks won't be visible..." Your cheeks flushed as you threw off your coat and slowly undid the buttons on your uniform, the dress falling down your shoulders and stopping right under your collarbones.

Nikolai watched as the fabric dropped and nuzzled into your exposed skin, "So soft..." He kissed down your collarbones, dragging his tongue with each kiss. You moved your hands up to tangle in his white messy hair, pulling him closer as he made his first mark above your collarbone, the feeling of his teeth biting down making you jolt and press down farther into his lap.

One of his hands left your waist to pull your dress down further, and you gasped as the cold air hit your chest. You tried to instinctively cover up, but Nikolai was already palming one of your tits through your lace bra and kissing the other. He groaned from finally being able to explore your body more, and you could feel the tent in his pants pressing against your panties.

"S-Seriously, Kolya..." Your skin felt hot, the feeling of being this desired feeling foreign to you since you and your husband barely got intimate...and when you did, there wasn't any real love or passion to it. Having someone worship your body like this⎯it made you want more.

You pulled on Nikolai's hair and gently rolled your hips to press down more on his bulge, drawing deeper groans from him. "Myla, a-ahh, you're so pretty..." He kissed in between the valley of your breasts and looked up at you, "You should just be mine and mine alone." He sucked on the exposed part of your tit and marked another spot there, kissing it afterwards. He repeated his motions on the other breast, his touch making you whine, the sound being absorbed by your lollipop.

"Mmm...your skin is so nice...I wonder how sweet you taste, ptashka." His other hand was still caressing your inner thigh, and it was dangerously close to slipping inside your lacy underwear. He could just⎯

"Miss! Mr. Gogol! Are you in there?" You both stopped as you heard Lacey's shouting voice and saw cut-up rays of light through the tree trunks. She had come back as promised with guards, evident by the heavy footsteps coming towards your direction.

"Ah, I guess our time's up, then? Too bad..." Nikolai sighed disappointedly, teasing you with one more bite over your bra, earning a surprised yelp from you, and you hurriedly re-did your buttons. Nikolai looked upset, wishing you could've gone further, but deep down, he knew this little back-and-forth game between the two of you wouldn't end anytime soon.

He got up slowly from the stump and swiped the cherry-flavored candy from your mouth, savoring the taste of you on it. You pouted, but he only laughed at you in return, slowly walking away as you picked the twigs and leaves off your trench coat. He stuck his tongue out before licking the lollipop, "Don't be sad dove, I'll taste you someday~"

You ran up to meet him and tried to get the blush off your cheeks, already trying to think of a lie to tell everyone on the long walk back. He intertwined his hand with yours, giggling to himself as Lacey and the guards finally came.

He was sure you'd scream when you saw the hickeys at home, which he'd purposely left in a diamond formation, like the ones on playing cards. That way, you wouldn't forget he was the one who marked you, and that your heart belonged to him.