#it's nearly 5 am though so i'll just write this then sleep immediately. i'm just. realizing i really just. yeah. rambling a lot like this

[noxtivagus]

i shld really fix that spam account n use it more often bcs oh my god i really often ramble just like this

[outthefryingpan]

Your writing is amazing ! I'm a sucker for fluff personally,, so if I have to suggest something,, it'd be cuddles. Just cuddling after a long,, busy day. Maybe in Winter,, a specially cold day,, those are the best days for cuddling,, and more so if it's with such a hot (pfft) monster like Grillby ! Just giving ideas,, I'll be happily reading anything you update here next. Have a nice day. :)

Cold Nights

Pairing: Grillby/Reader

Rating: Everyone

Notes: I’m a sucker for that too! I very much enjoy this suggestion, thank you! Send more any time u like :^> This is set on the surface! Most of the pieces I write will be set this way unless stated otherwise.

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You can’t believe how late it is when you finally begin walking home. Pulling your phone out and pressing the home button tells you it’s only a few minutes away from midnight. Your feet ache, and you want nothing more than to just crawl into bed.

Luckily for you, it isn’t a long walk to Grillby’s from where you are, maybe a little over 5 minutes, but you really hadn’t anticipated it being this cold and blustery out. Then again, you didn’t anticipate your boss holding you back as late as she did either, so you use that as your excuse for being jacket-less. In reality, it probably wouldn’t have been much warmer out even if you did leave on time, but you’re just going to ignore that. You unceremoniously shove your phone back into your pocket and quicken your pace, holding your hands together in an attempt to conserve some of your already waning warmth. 

In hopes of distraction, you let your mind begin to wander. Initially your prerogative is “think warm thoughts”, but of course that only leads you to thinking of Grillby. It’s inevitable. He’s the warmest thing you can think of.

You think back to when he first opened up his bar on the surface, and how he would stay open all night, every night. The new influx of customers quickly overwhelmed him, and so he changed his hours to accommodate a new goal of his, one he’d adopted upon reaching the surface. He called it the, “not work myself to death” rule. You, nothing more than a new friend at the time, had laughed at that. It was one of the first jokes he’d made around you. You laugh again now, thinking about how horrible a job he’s done in sticking to his goal. Maybe it’s just unrealistic for him, you muse.

No, that isn’t fair. He drastically changed his hours when he first got here. Underground, he’d been open every day from noon to 3AM. How he’d managed a 15 hour work day every single day all by himself was absolutely beyond you, but he told you that down there, he really didn’t have much else to do. 

In a more private setting, after the two of you had grown closer, he confessed that when he lived underground, he felt a sense of obligation to be open as often as possible, to act as a sort of home base for those monsters who were struggling, or just needed someone to help stave off their loneliness. 

Here on the surface, things are better! But they’re a lot different too, a lot busier. And so, with some kind pushing from his friends, he had ultimately decided not only to tighten his hours, but to hire some help as well.

You consider that to be the start of a deeper relationship blossoming between the two of you. You had offered to wash dishes and help with cleanup, and he gratefully accepted. You started talking more, spending more time together, and... The rest is history, you suppose. 

Now, he takes Sundays off, and closes at 10PM on Mondays. His daily hours are still pretty packed, but he has more servers and kitchen staff to help out with them. 

Suddenly, you blink in surprise at yourself as that reminds you of something.

Today’s Monday! That means he should have closed a while ago! 

You sent him a text earlier when you found out you would be late home and told him not to worry, but you totally forgot that it was possible for you to end up working later than him. That is a rare occurrence. 

Well then! 

You become excited at your findings, but quickly realize they mean that he may be sleeping. Rats... You need to be quiet coming in, then.

A chatter sounds in your skull just as the bar comes into view. It isn’t quite snowing out, but the biting, billowing wind is strong enough to drain most of the heat from you. Your fingers feel numb as they blindly wiggle around in your pocket, looking for your keys even though you’re still a little ways away from the front door. By the time you reach it, you’re putting in a pretty significant amount of effort to minimize your shivering and get it unlocked. It’s situations like these that make you thankful to only have a few separate keys to keep track of on your key ring.

The door itself is pretty new, but still creaks lightly as you push it open. Then, you almost lose your grip on the knob when a particularly strong gust of wind shoves you in through the front door. You stumble forward. 

Startled as you are, it doesn’t take you long to recover, close the door firmly behind you, and lock it with a huff. You’re just glad no one is around to have seen your little blunder. Hand still on the door, you sigh out your relief. Grillby would definitely be alerted by the door swinging open and slamming into the wall. He’d be alerted if you face-planted into the hardwood flooring, too. 

After taking a moment to smooth yourself out and appreciate the internal temperature of the bar, you glance around the dark room. As you expected, tables and chairs are neat, lights are off, and not a speck of dust can be seen. Sometimes you wonder if Grillby gets off on extreme cleaning. You snicker quietly to yourself.

The rise in temperature is great compared to the freezing nightmare you’d endured outside, but it isn’t anywhere near enough to stop your shivering. So you beeline for the staircase that leads to Grillby’s apartment- or more accurately, your ticket to comfort. It’s a little hard to see, and you nearly trip once on the way up, but the reward you’re met with upon entering is well worth it.

Instantly, you’re flushed with a wave of warmth.

Grillby sits on the couch in the living room that faces the door, knuckle pressed to the side of his mouth and book in hand. Your entrance alerts him, and his head turns up so his eyes can meet yours. They look tired. Yours do too.

He can see you shivering still, and it makes him frown. However, the beginning of a small smile finds its way onto his face when he lifts a hand and waves you over. Both of you know what comes next. You step toward him eagerly. 

Without a word spoken between the two of you, he places the thick, old looking novel down on the table in front of him, and opens himself up to you. Rather than sitting next to him like he had expected, you opt for plopping down directly in his lap, arms around his shoulders and legs on either side of him. He lets out a surprised grunt, but it quickly dissolves into a chuckle as his arms find their way around your midsection. You relish in the warmth they offer.

“You’re cold.” He starts.

“You’re warm.” You reply, though it’s muffled by the fabric of his thin shirt. He hears you despite this, and a fiery brow quirks up. 

“Aren’t I always?” Grillby asks. You can hear the teasing smile in his voice, but nod against him regardless. Thanks to him, you can feel your shivers mostly subside.

“Yea, but I especially appreciate it when it’s freezing out.” Comes your voice once more. Sighing, you feel his arm begin to rub slowly up and down your back, a soothing, sweeping motion that transfers his heat to you even faster. Suddenly comfortable, you’re reminded of how totally exhausted you are.

“I always tell you to bring a coat.” He tries for a chastising tone, but can’t help that it comes out as soft as it does. His voice is just a mumble now, reaching your ears easily despite its low volume. This is in part because he’s taken the liberty of placing his cheek against your head.

“Heh..Yeah...” You concede, burrowing your face further into him. It’s a long moment before you speak again. “I didn’t think you’d be up. Aren’t you tired?” At this question you look up at him as much as your current position will allow, cheek still smooshed into his shoulder.

His response is low, and doesn’t come immediately, which kind of gives you an answer in itself: Yes.

“Mm... I am..” He confirms your suspicion. A little more quietly, he continues. “But you were still out, and...” The elemental’s head lazily tilts, and the flames constantly spiraling off of it follow the movement. You catch him glance out the window. As if wanting to help illustrate his point, another forceful gust of wind rattles it just slightly.

A little guilt twists your stomach. He always worries, and you should have known he would be waiting. You should’ve fought harder to leave on time. You expect he’s going to finish the thought, but you already know where he’s headed, so you preempt him.

“You didn’t need to wait up for me...” You say softly. 

The response you get is hushed, but still quite matter-of-fact.

“I did. I wanted to. ...I like going to bed with you.” His tone is so simple, so casual, so... sweet. He’s just speaking honestly, yet it affects you so much. The guilt you feel morphs into adoration, and the feeling makes you grin. You’re sure he can feel it against him, but duck your head back down anyway.

“OK.” Your voice is muffled once more. But the smile in it is audible. A short, breathy hum escapes him, the sound like a sleepy little laugh.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, wrapped up in each other. The calm rise and fall of his chest slows further, and the surrounding blanket of his warmth cradles you softly. 

You don’t want to, but you eventually have to turn your face to the side. As comfy as he is, it’s a little hard to breathe that way. This movement seems to take him a bit off guard, and rouses him from a drowsiness he’d almost let get the better of him. You feel and hear the deep breath he sucks in as he shifts, bringing himself back off the brink of sleep. He props himself back up against the couch, holding you still as he does. You let out a large yawn, and gently pat his back.

“OK...Time for bed?” You ask quietly. In his sleep-addled state, he can only nod. Without another word, arms around your middle become hands on your waist, and he lifts you off of him and gently places you on the cushion next to him. Slowly he stands, stretching. His flames crackle and pop with the action, and once he’s satisfied he lets out the breath he’d been holding and turns to you with a bright orange hand extended.

For a moment, you consider asking him to carry you. You’re exhausted! But another look at his slightly lopsided posture and barely open eyes reminds you he’s right there with you. So you make do with just grabbing his hand and using it to help pull yourself up. Once you’re on your feet, you two begin a slow stroll to your shared bedroom, and step inside. 

The blinds are drawn, so the only light permeating the darkness you stumble around in to change is Grillby himself. You end up in just your underwear and a big T shirt. Following your lead, he removes his own top and bottoms, leaving himself only in his briefs. 

It’s only about 45 seconds after you enter the room that both of you are crashing into bed. You simply let yourself fall face first. He as usual is a little more graceful about things, gently lifting the covers for himself, and helping you work your way under them too. Your tired body sings in relief as you sink into the mattress, your back to the flaming monster beside you.

Unsatisfied with this, you fight the sleep off for a little longer to wiggle a bit. A questioning hum leaves him, and by the sound of it, he’s working pretty hard to stay awake too. You turn under the covers, trying not to muss them too much and he seems to get the idea. Warm hands land on your sides again as he helps you turn toward him, eager to pull you closer. 

It’s a little brighter when you face him, but that’s never bothered you. Especially not when you’re this worn out. He sighs happily at this change, and his arms circle tightly around you, a hand finding the back of your head and threading itself through your hair. 

His digits comb against your scalp ever so gently, drawing a pleased hum from your closed lips. Not many people know (because how could they? He certainly isn’t going around talking about it), but Grillby is quite a physical being. He had some old hang ups that made it hard for him to embrace that about himself at first, and is polite and accommodating to a fault sometimes, but once you’d made him comfortable enough he gave in to his desire to hold you more often, and hold you closely. 

Once again, you thank the fucking stars for that. Especially on nights like these. Gone is any trace of the icy chill that consumed you earlier. 

Without missing a beat, you place your own hands on his broad back, now giving him the same treatment you had received earlier. He’s larger than you, as most monsters tend to be, but it doesn’t hinder your efforts to gently rub your arm up and down along his spine, fingers only deftly making contact. The hand not doing this splays out across his shoulder blade, then creeps up to rest on the point where his shoulder meets his neck. It wouldn’t be long now for either of you. Your eyelids close, but he looks down at your calm form for a little longer. 

A murmured utterance of your name grips the last inklings of your attention. Your eyes slowly drag themselves open again, and a drowsy, “Hmn..?” escapes you. His voice is almost a whisper when he speaks, leaning down so his mouth is closer to your head.

“I love you...” Grillby breathes out. You smile, and lightly kiss whatever of his skin is closest to your lips. That turns out to be a spot on his chest, right under his collar. There’s a small smooching sound as you pull back.

“...Love you too.” You exhale against him. With the last of his effort, he throws a leg over yours, crooking it to bring you closer still, and fully embrace you.

Those are the last words spoken that night. All that follows is the dull crackling of flames and the soft sound of breathing as you both allow your bodies the rest they’ve been aching for.

[hardforbenhardy]

somebody to love | rogerxreader

summary: roger fucking taylor. the boy in your biology class. the boy you’ve had a crush on for years. the boy who doesn’t know you exist. has recognised your existence. 

warnings: swearing, drinking, references to sex and stripping

word count: 4.0k

the first chapter of my upcoming fanfic! i’ve been working on this for a while, and it’s still not finished so i’m not sure how often i’ll update, but i’m planning on having a taglist for it so if people do like it, they can be alerted of when it comes out (if you want to be added, just pm me or send in a request!) i’m immensely proud of it and i think it’s some of my best writing - a lot of research went into it so i’m happy with the outcome so far and i hope you will be too. enjoy!! :)

There truly was no worse day than a Saturday.

I know, I know - but Saturday's are the best! There's no school, no work, you can sit around and chill all day, or go out clubbing with all your friends; maybe even pull a dude or two...

That may be the case for every single other person in the world, disincluding you. You see, your life is a little different to the usual person. Most people do spend their weekends sitting around, or going out with their friends, pulling girls and guys every night. You, on the other hand, spend it studying and working. You can safely say that taking a BSc in Biology at North East London Polytechnic was maybe the biggest mistake of your life yet. Don't get yourself wrong, you am good at it. In fact, you’re top of my class - you just struggle to balance all the studying with your job and family life.

Hence why you are sat at your dinner table, surrounded by a sea of glossy biology textbooks which contain much more information than your brain is willing to retain at this point. The words had began twisting in your eyes, no longer forming sentences but rather just squiggles on a page. Your pretty sure you have read the same page 3 times in the past hour, all information going through one ear and straight out the other. What the fuck was a bacteriophage? Or what about it being icosahedral or filamentous? And what was the difference between the lytic stage and the lysogenic stage? At this point, those weren't even words. Okay, so maybe you have been sitting here since 11 this morning, it now being 7 in the evening, but this was your standard Saturday. Having work every weekday in the evenings - 7:30pm until 3:00am - with your classes then starting as early as 9:00 on certain days, you didn't exactly have enough time to study on weekdays. Sleep was practically nonexistent for you by now, you were lucky to even get in 4 hours a night. Unfortunately for you, work also existed on Saturdays. You are probably thinking why don't you study on Sundays? Well, because Sundays were family days - you’d have to travel 3 hours to see your Ma and Pa, who would tell you how proud they were of you, doing a BSc in a subject that would get you far, and having a solid job that brought income for the whole family. Granted, they had absolutely no idea what your job actually was - and it isn't something they will ever know - but you don't really have a choice. You need to pay for your accommodation somehow, and contribute to the families bills after your father got fired from his job and went into severe debt. Therefore, it was a job you resorted to. In fact, you have work in 30 minutes, and here you are - trying to cram in a chapter's worth of course content for a test you had on Monday, surviving on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

You felt your arms begin to weaken under the weight of your head as you placed it into your palms, your eyes beginning to flutter shut as you gradually dozed off, the lack of sleep taking it's revenge. It wasn't until the loud, boisterous voice of your roommate interrupted the silence.

"Y/N, darling, have you seen my- Oh, love, what on earth is this disaster?" He cringed, sitting opposite you on the table, as you frantically sifted through the mound of worksheets for one in particular. "Look, darling, you need to sort this out. You look like you've been dragged through the bushes and back - you have work in 26 minutes and you are not even dressed!"

"Wow, thanks Freddie. Look, I don't really have a choice - if I don't have this topic nailed, I may just fail my exam, and then what? My life rides on this Fred, and I'm completely and utterly fucked if I fail." you wearily ranted, a yawn escaping your lips, which certainly didn't go unnoticed by Fred, as he placed a fresh mug of coffee in front of you - unbeknownst it was your fourth one tonight.

"Y/N, don't be so dramatic - there is only room in this flat for one hysterical queen, and I'm afraid I took that role many years ago. There is absolutely no way that you, Y/N M/N L/N, could ever fail a biology exam - you are the top of your class, and as much as you deny it, you know this content like the back of your hand. Look, I'll prove it - what is a bacteriophage, and what are the three possible shapes?"

"It's a virus which can infect and kill bacteria - the capsid of a bacteriophage can be icosahedral, filamentous, or head-tail in shape." The words simply rolled off your tongue, as you kept my focus on the textbook in front of you.

"Told you so, bet you were questioning in your head just 5 minutes ago what the fuck a bacteriophage is, and all that other shit you just said. I know you like the back of my hand, darling - you underestimate yourself far too much. Now put the fucking books away and get ready for work!" He nagged, taking a long sip of the glass of champagne he had acquired out of nowhere - typical Freddie. You didn't even respond, just simply rolled your eyes before rising to your feet to head upstairs. Freddie knew how much you hated your job, it was not exactly one praised by society. You’re what people would call an exotic dancer - or more commonly known as a stripper. It wasn't an occupation you asked for, it was rather one that was simply opened at a rather opportune moment for you. You can safely say yoinwill be taking the chance to quit as soon as you get your degree and can move on, but you’re stuck with it for the time being. You hate it on multiple levels - the feeling of having multiple older men's gaze set on your body, as if you were some kind of object, their minds wandering to all the things they could do to you if given the chance - it wasn't exactly a nice feeling. It is truly disgusting the amount of times you have been called a whore, slut, slag, floozie, tart, or prostitute - the list is ultimately endless at this point. What is even funnier is that it tends to be these same people who then turn up to your showings later on in the evening, indulging in your performance like every other male in the club. To make it worse, people often tell you you’re lucky to have guy's attention all the time - as if you should be proud of the fact that you have a body and face admirable by men. You always thought that was complete and utter bullshit - why the fuck should a guys validation make youbody and face suddenly attractive? Thankfully, most of the men who came to the club tended to be a little older than yourself - meaning there was never any guys from the university, or even better your class, who would come by. The only person who actually knows your truth is Freddie - who even though he did disapprove of it, would always try to cheer you up and make you feel more confident about it. You see, Freddie is extremely overprotective of you, he treats you like his little sister - he always wants you out of harm's way, always makes sure you were eating and getting at least 5 hours of sleep each night, always lends you money in your most desperate times of need, and opened his home to you the night you met him. It's funny actually - you remember that night so extremely vividly. He had come along to one of your performances, and ended up bumping into you backstage - you engaged in a conversation which lasted nearly the whole night, and before you knew it, it was 2am. He asked to walk you home, to which you simply had to reply with the fact you didn't have one and you were just planning on crashing on the couch in your dressing room. Of course, Freddie being Freddie invited you back to stay with him - any other person would be immediately cautious of the request, but at this point you had nothing to lose. And here you are, a month later and you were now living with him. He was basically the best roommate you could ask for.

The club is like a second home, or house - you wouldn't consider it very homely. Although the case was rare, if there was ever a point you couldn't stay at Freddie's, they allow you to sleep on the couch in the dressing room. Thankfully, your colleagues and the manager are all extremely nice people, it is more the visitors who get on your nerves and made you sick to the stomach. Basically a majority of the other girls you work with are in the same position than you; they are either college students just trying to pay off debt, or teenage mothers whose boyfriends left them after finding out they were pregnant who were trying to finance their child - everyone had their own individual story but in a way, you were all similar. Like you said, it is a second home to you, so when you stepped inside for the 6th time this week, it felt no different. The strong smell of booze and drugs no longer hit you like a brick, but rather became a second nature to your brain. The booming music, blaring at top volume from speakers which were scattered in nearly every crevice of the room, had become the norm for your eardrums - which realistically is bad for your health, but you didn’t think that's the thing that'll kill you at this point. The masses of men crowded around tables no longer made your stomach churn, now it just became the same old same old. You weren’t actually on stage until 8:00 tonight, so you don't know why they had you in half an hour early - you had already finished your makeup and got dressed. You leant against the bar, downing the first of what would be many complimentary drinks you would receive over the night - as much as you hated the job, it did have it's benefits. Free booze was probably the best thing to come out of it, when men would buy you drinks in hopes of getting you in their bed - all of them being nearly twice your age, they were never successful, but it was fun to watch 'em try. They would often strike up a conversation with you, the topic of which was always him, meaning you’d stand there responding with simple nods and the occasional burst of laughter - your mind in a completely different world of its own, usually a world of worry and anxiety of failing your exams.

"So, where is it you work? I could definitely see you working in an office or as a lawyer, I can imagine you would look very professional in a pantsuit, or even on the front cover of Vogue, you certainly have the body" The man, who had now situated himself beside you, practically purred. Was he seriously asking where you worked? What an imbecile. The whole ordeal is making you sick to your stomach, earning an eye roll in an instant - though you thought you’d play along to see where exactly he was going to go with this.

"Well, you wouldn't be interested in my life..." you laughed lightly, slowly and seductively inching closer to him. "But... I'm interested in yours. Tell me, where is it you're from, I love your accent."

"Oh, well I'm sure that isn't true, but I was actually born and bred in Italy - I moved here a few years ago, but thankfully I never lost the accent; it's a great tool for getting the girls in bed - especially the incredibly tempting ones such as yourself." He purred down your ear, you felt his breath on your neck and yourblood suddenly ran cold, as he placed his hand against the curve of your spine. Tempting?

You laughed under your breath in utter disbelief, your blood began to boil - how can someone be so small minded and narcissistic, yet spend their weeks in a strip club. "So you think I'm tempting?"

"Obviously, I mean you're super sexy and you really turn me on." He winked, and you stared at him incredulously.

"Well, you wanna know what I find incredibly tempting about you?" - he didn't speak, just simply nodded as he took a large gulp, as if he was intimidated by you. You moved closer, so that your hand was now placed against his inner thigh, and raised to your tiptoes - "There's just a deep pit burning in me, it's almost irresistible - just the thought of it is alone is so extremely enticing. I just have this immense desire to..." you whisper seductively in his ear, right as you ram your knee between his legs, making him cry out in a yell of pain and fall to his knees. " Do that." you grinned, before grasping the drink from the counter and gradually pouring it onto his head, the alcohol seeping through the thin material of his shirt, surely leaving him in a satisfying discomfort for the rest of the night, as if the hit to the balls wasn't enough. "And that"

"What the fuck? You fucking bitch!" He screamed, his voice going higher than you ever thought a man's voice could go, probably a side effect of his now undoubtedly swollen and painful misters.

You didn't respond, simply sashaying away as you raised my middle finger in his direction. You must say, after months of working in this club, you have practically become immune to the disease you like to call men. They just don't turn you on anymore. Don't get yourself wrong, not all men are like that - for example, Freddie is undoubtedly one of the sweetest human beings to walk this earth - but it seems like the men you’re surrounded by are basically parasites. Probably just a side effect of working in the hornets' nest, all kinds of trouble was stirred up in this building, it pretty much became the second (less sexual) form of entertainment for the customers. And you guess it's just your luck, because now it's your calltime. Your favourite time of the night - not. You entered the door, sighing a little. Come on, Y/N, you got this girl, just a little while longer and you can be back in the comfort of your bed. You always have to give yourself a little pep talk as you walk towards the door of what was, in a way, the gateway into Hell. That's if hell was a strip bar full of cheap and sleazy, lest we forget to mention mostly married men. All staring at you like food on a silver platter. It is quite frankly, disgusting. The walkway this week had silky, white curtains that the dancers usually appear through; as if to give the 'illusion' of us being 'angels appearing through the veil of the heavens'. You called bullshit on that one, that's also partly the reason your outfit was made up of a satin white robe, covering your lacy white lingerie. They also recently decided that the dancers should dust themselves with gold glitter before going onstage - thinking it might make you seem a little more angelic. Of course it doesn't, but you couldn’t lie - you looked incredible; the insubstantial underwear hugs your body in all the right places, yet still leaving little to the imagination; and the shimmer of gold across your chest only accentuating it more as the bright lights radiates your skin; your long locks flowing down your back, swinging with every step you took as you saunter onto the stage. Sudden cheers and whistles erupted from the crowd, the oh so familiar sound permeating the room with energy and excitement. The noise only increased as you little by little slid the satin piece down your shoulders to reveal the straps of the two-piece underneath, letting it slide down your body completely and pool around your feet on the floor. Usually, you would feel comfortable on stage, the fact you were borderlining nudity wouldn't phase youbone bit; but something felt different tonight. You have the same audience, the same form of outfit, same routine - but something feels strange, out of place, and you can't quite decipher it. You brush it off, knowing it's probably just nerves, and continue with your set - swaying around the stage, showing off your assets from every angle; and that's where you saw him.

Hidden in the corner of the room, he sat in a dimly lit spot making him barely visible thanks to the broken light which had been smashed a few days ago in a drunken bar fight. Perching forward in a lounge chair, he continually lifted the lit cigarette that was resting between his middle and index fingers towards his rosy lips, taking long drags every few seconds. As his golden, scraggly-but-still-well-groomed locks were clinging to the sides of his face, you notice his steel blue gaze dancing over your body as he scans you up and down.

Roger Fucking Taylor.

The same Roger that was in your biology class. The same Roger that was constantly trying to one up you and be the top of the class (unsuccessful in his attempts of course). The same Roger that you had had a crush on since you the course. The same Roger that didn't even know you existed. He had never been partnered with you, never spoken to you, never even looked in your direction. When you first entered the course, you had heard all about Rogers, how do I put this nicely, reputation with the ladies - making youbinstantly cringe at the utter disrespect of some of the things he had apparently done with them. But after a few weeks, you couldn't help but be drawn to him - he has an undeniable charm that he probably doesn't even know he's using half of the time, he is incredibly intelligent, and it is indisputable that he is the human form of the Greek God, Adonis, himself. You hate yourself for feeling this way, you always attempt to push it down as you know it'll do you no good in the long run. Like I said, Roger is known for his wild adventures with the women; and you weren’t one to participate in the activities of said adventures. Having a job as a stripper, people expect me to be extremely confident and out there, a lively socialite who is the life of the party, always being the centre of attention. I am, in fact, the complete opposite. When I'm not at work, I'm exceedingly reserved and introverted - I have one friend, Freddie; I only ever contribute to class when asked a question, other than that I sat at the back taking my own notes; I spend any spare time I have at home watching tv or reading a book. Therefore, I know I have a 0.00001% chance of Roger even acknowledging my existence - which I am fine with. I accepted my defeat months ago. And now, he's sat here watching me dance around, practically naked.

After finishing my set, I pace off stage- praying to Jesus that Roger didn't recognise it was me. He barely even notices me in lessons - surely he doesn't know me. What if he does though? What if he goes around school telling all his friends that I'm a fucking stripper? I'd be well and truly fucked - and not in the good way. I have never left the club faster than I did tonight, throwing on my clothes and fleeing through the backstage exit. My head is pacing, as clouds of worry and thought occupy the space - how am I ever going to face Roger again? What if he tells people? What if he is disgusted by me? I can feel my hand shaking as I try to unlock the apartment door, in which I throw open and slam behind me.

"Home so early, darling?" I could hear Freddie's voice from the living room shouting through, before the loud pop of the champagne bottle in his hand - presumably his second tonight. I threw my bag to the side before storming into the room and slumping down next to Freddie on the couch, releasing a large sigh.

"Yeah, work wasn't great" I groaned, noticing Freddie gesturing for me to take the bottle in his hand, to which I took a big swig in response; making Freddie chuckle.

"When is your work ever great? What's wrong, love?" He raised from the couch to grab himself a glass, knowing I'm not giving up this wine bottle as easily as he hoped.

"As you know, a majority of the men we get at the club are at least twice my age. Well, you remember Roger Taylor right?" I mumbled, focusing my attention to Freddie's glass which he held out in front of me, pouring the liquid in slowly as to not spill it all over the both of us.

"From your class? The one you have an undeniable love for? Yeah, I know him. What did he do?"

"Well, he turned up. He was sat in the back of the room. What am I to do Fred? What if he tells people that my job is basically prostitution? My life will be ruined. Not only that, but now my crush has seen me borderline naked, and prancing around the stage like some kind of... well, stripper" I cringed at the thought, it sounded a little stupid. Surely, I'd want my crush to see how good looking I can be? Not one bit.

"Oh god, what on earth was he doing there? Sounds like you have a bit of blackmailing yourself - Roger Taylor in a strip club-"

"Is exactly where I'd expect to find him if I'm being honest Fred - you know what he's like. I'd be surprised if it wasn't a place he visited everyday" I chimed in, I'm not lying. He is exactly the type of cocky, arrogant little shit who would find bliss in a strip club.

"Look, everything will be fine - you have two options, darling. You can either avoid him for the rest of your life, hoping he doesn't share the secret and ultimately ruin your life forever. Or you can fucking own it, and strut into school tomorrow like you are the shit and give Roger a piece of your mind - it's up to you, but I'm rooting for the second" Fred explained, trying reason with the one person he would never be able to reason with. I am quite stubborn when I want to be, and now is one of those occasions. "Now get to sleep, if you are home this early you should take advantage of it. Oh, do you have the money for rent?"

"Shit. Fuck. Fred I'm so sorry - I left in such a rush that I forgot to pick it up. I'll pay you Monday? I'm so sorry" I frettered, eyes widening at the realisation I not only couldn't pay Freddie, but I also can't pay my parents when I go down tomorrow.

"Darling, it's fine - I'll give you this week free of charge. You deserve it with all your hard work!"

Mouthing a small 'thank you', I smiled and nodded before slumping upstairs to my bedroom. As I reached my bed, I noticed all my biology books, which were previously scattered across the living room table, all stacked in the order of importance for the exam on Monday. I grinned to myself at Freddie's attempt of helping me study, although I know he only did it because he hates when I leave my books around the apartment. I can barely sleep, my eyes are refusing to close and my mind wanders back to Roger with every attempt of rest. I can't help but agonise over the situation; knowing something was going to go wrong and my life was going to be ruined.

[ghostgirlluminisa]

FGO: Okada Izo x Oiran Reader: Part 1

Artist of picture: 岡田以蔵 | lack #pixiv https://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=73164836

Before someone comes at me, it has been a very long time since I have wrote anything. I have been going through depression, college, finals, midterms, and a lot more. But writing for me is still something I love to do. I have been creating videos on YouTube and I have you guys enjoy more videos like my writing. I have been turning these to videos. R-18 ones no because I don't want the YouTube police to come at me XD.

Now, time for a small history lesson. A Oiran is a high ranking Japanese prostitute. This took place during the Edo period.  In order for a woman to become a Oiran, they had to know do the Japanese tea ceremony, calligraphy, reading, writing, be elegant, know how to play certain instruments and such. They even gain popularity and in had become celebrities. There are two ranks. Tayū were the highest ranking and had the right to refuse their client.

I been reading a lot of history lately and wanted to right a story based on this.

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Red lips took a small puff of her kiseru, liking the small yet gentle taste of tobacco and peach. Her eyes were elegant yet held a hidden meaning behind them. She nearly sat out the room she was suppose to be in as she heard the man in that room moan in pleasure.

"These shogun really need to stop thirsting for new blood." She muttered as she heard the man gasp as he drowned in pleasure in the illusion she created using mage craft.

"Mistress?"

She opened her eyes and looked at the young maid, who was shifting nervously and she herself raised an eyebrow.

"What's going on?" she herself asked the maid.

"You...have a new client." the maid said and she chuckled.

"Already? Lord, it hasn't even been 3 hours and someone is already here for me." She giggled and stood up, dusting herself.

"It's....the samurai Okada Izo." She said and the woman eyes went wide.

An excited smile came onto her face and her maid grinned.

"Your lover boy is here." and that got the maid a smack on the head.

"How many times have I said he is not my lover?! He is my childhood friend!" She screeched and did a "oops" as she and her maid did a quick peek inside the room but saw her current client was asleep.

Both sighed in relief.

"Please escort the man to the door once he wakes up. I already have been paid." The woman said and the maid nodded and vowed.

The woman happily hummed as she walked through the lavished wood hallways and past the beautifully colored paper doors till she reached one far at the edge, where it was private and specifically for herself and another. She opened the door and saw her new client sitting on a comfy pillow and already drinking sake.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like a puppy?" she said and that amid her client spit out his drink and glare at her.

"Oi, Aoi, I told ya a million times not to call me that!" He barked and she just giggled ad walked in, closing the door, and bit of magecraft to keep any sound from the room, in case things got intense.

"I'll say it again when I want and when I want." The woman now known as Aoi said but quickly dove in and hugged the man.

"Welcome back Izo." She smiled sadly and he just groaned but hugged her back, though he was stiff.

"It's good to see you again Aoi." He smirked lightly and she grinned.

"I'm just glad you are back here in Tosa. I'll have the ladies set up some food and sake for you. We can talk together about what has been going on, and like always," she took out a small scroll from her chest which sent the samurai to avert his eyes, "I have gathered information regarding Choshu and Satsuma." Aoi said as she handed him the scroll and both sat back down.

He gritted his teeth but showed no emotion as he was reading the scroll but Aoi can see it. She was no fool and frowned.

"Alright, strip." She suddenly ordered.

"Wait what?" He said

"Now." she suddenly spoke in an icy voice which he immediately obeyed and took off his coat and she frowned.

The scent of iron was strong, the scent of death and assassination reeked on him. He has removed the top part of his kimono and was left at least shirtless. Scars covered his body but her eyes zoomed in on the still partly fresh wound. Izo saw this and looked away.

"My target managed to injure me." Was all he said she slapped him.

He didn't need to look back to her. He knew she must be looking at him in disgust but instead heard a sob. He turned to her and his eyes went wide as he saw her cry as she placed her hand on the chest wound. Her hand softly glowed as he felt the wound close. A few more seconds passed and she laid her forehead on his chest.

"Why....why can't you just quit...? The life of an assassin is destroying you. I don't want to continue seeing you like this. Even Ryoma is worried!" Aoi said.

Ryoma was another childhood friend of theirs. Izo frowned but sighed.

"You should know the answer to that. We both have our jobs to do." He said and Aoi glared at him.

"Even so, I still wish for you to live. The blade is not only for taking a life, but to save it!" Aoi argued back.

Izo scoffed but gently patted her head. Silence followed for a few moments but it shattered at his next line.

"Still a virgin?"And that got him a punch in the gut.

"You know damn well I refuse to sleep with anyone! I will use my power to create illusions if I must! I shall remain a virgin till I find the "one"." Aoi declared proudly.

Izo just burst out laughing.

"Are you sure you should be talking about your virginity in front of me?" He smirked and she smirked back.

"Ha! Look at the little puppy bark. My aren't you cute." Aoi tease and he glared.

"Am I really a puppy?" he glared and she smirked.

"Of course. Size has never been your thing." and that was a fatal blow to Izo.

She burst out laughing and grinned. She truly did enjoy these happy moments, but they never last forever.

--- July 1865 ---

"My lady, all the women have been evacuated along with all the scrolls, supplies. The only ones left here are the government officials and the ones that...beheaded your friend." The maid said as Aoi stood with void eyes as she walked down the hallway to the room where all the government officials involved in her friends death were. Each one she poisoned with her sweet candle's scent.

All the doors locked, no escape. Even the bodies of those killed will not remain.

"Thank you. Now go. Leave." She said but before she did, the maid vowed to her and was holding back tears.

"I will never forget you my lady! I swear on your honor, we will carry on your legacy!" She cried and Aoi smiled sadly.

"Hidara, thank you." Aoi handed her a beautifully crafted box that was wrapped in silk.

"My final gift is to you. Watch over everyone."

-----------

Hidara along will all the women of the brothel cried and moaned along with the citizens of the town as they watched their former home burn down to ashes. Inside the brothel, Aoi sat sill as she saw the government official, now burned to crisp and dead.

"Not even your bones will remain. This is my revenge for what you all did to Izo." She said she now felt the flames surround her and smiled sadly.

She touched her chest and let her tears fall as she looked up to the ceiling in flames.

"I'm sorry Izo. But...if we ever meet again in another life....l..hope it's happier one." Aoi smiled and thus, the brothel burned down to ashes, along with the Virgin Tayu.

Hidara cried as she held onto the box that was given to her.

"My lady...I pray you find happiness in another life."

---- The Wandering Sea: Chaldea: 2019 ----

"Come on (Y/n)!! It's been how long since you have arrived in Chaldea and you still refuse to at least open up a bit!?" Oh how she currently hated being only a fragment of the original (Y/n)!!

" I'm told you to call me 2. You're one and our original self is Zero. We're basically now like the Sakura 5 or like Rose from Drakengard 3!" you snapped at your "sister" who sighed.

" I know..but....I can't just call you 2. And you get mad at me calling you "(Y/N), so what should I call you?" She said.

"Aoi." you said and she blinked.

"It's the name of the me that was born in the Edo period and fused with the fragment of our original self. So call me Aoi, alright Ari." you said to her and she grinned.

"Alright, Aoi it is! Well, I got to go! I'm helping Cu Alter with a modification." She said and you smirked.

"Oh yeah. Modification that always end with me giving you massage." you said and her face turned red and she quickly left.

You chuckled and sighed.

"Hope things get interesting soon."

Oh it will.

To be continued....

[cloudylovemuses]

Arcade (2)

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, past!Natasha Romanoff x Reader, past!Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes, Wanda Maximoff x Sam Wilson

Summary: It's time for you and Bucky tell Sam and Wanda about your decision. Also you need to talk to Nick Fury and talk things out, hoping for the best.

Author's Note: Sooo, I tried to right a small chapter for the time gap between my first and third chapter. It's a bit awful and lazy, next week week (I'll give a lil spoiler) we'll meet the house and the neighborhood. I wasn't feeling really good to write something more, but hope you like it.

(1)

It's been 5 days since you accepted Bucky's offer, to start a new life with him. At first you and Bucky where discussing where will you live. You suggested to buy an apartment at Brooklyn, but he rejected the moment the suggestion hit the table. He didn't want to be back to the place where he grew up. He didn't want to return to his past. Didn't want to start his new life based on how he used to live.

"Can we have a house with a big kitchen? Ohh Buck, it'll be really nice to have a huuuge kitchen and try so many recipes freely, with so much space to work on." You said dreamily while standing on your elbows to watch Bucky. He turned his gaze from the ceiling to you with a smile in his face.

You were in his room daydreaming about your future life. You're laying next to him being excited about your plans. He laughed and pulled you out of your thoughts. "What? Why are you laughing?" You smiled at him.

"I'm just thinking that if Sam watched us cook with aprons. We wouldn't hear the end of it." He laughed.

"Oh my god, you're soooo right. He'll tease us 'till the day we die." You both laughed again and you suddenly stopped and gasped.

"OH MY GOD, SAM!"

"What about him?" He questioned, confusion covering his face.

"We need to tell him that we want to leave." His smile left his face and his eyes dropped to his hands. Even though the two boys were always fighting, they were the closest and best friends. Bucky didn't know how Sam would take it.

"We need to talk to him." He finally said.

"What? Like, right now?"

"No I think he is already asleep. Tomorrow morning. The sooner the better!"

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." you sighed and curled to his side.

"He won't be very happy, will he?" You both returned your gaze to the ceiling a worried look on both of your faces.

"I don't know, doll. I don't know."

~~~~

The next morning you knocked on Bucky's door, still worry over your features. He opened slowly having the same emotions as you. "Ready?"

He softly sighed "as ready as I can be."

"We have to, Buck." You took his hand on yours and pulled him out of his room.

"I know, I know." He sighed again and you started walking towards the living room.

"Sam!" You shouted and he popped his head from the couch.

"Hello Cinnamon, hello Tinman. What's up?" You giggle at your nickname while Bucky glared at him. Sam liked to call you Cinnamon because you putted cinnamon everywhere, from aromatic candles to coffee dressing.

"We um...wanted to talk to you about something." You said hesitantly.

"Of course, what is it about?"

You moved further and sat down next to him and Bucky sat behind you, staying close to you. "Me and Bucky were thinking umm...we were umm...thinking..." You nervously said playing with your fingers not wanting to look into his eyes.

"Guys. You are worrying me, what's wrong." Sam said worry all over his face.

"No, no nothing is wrong...we just kinda thinking..." Bucky trailed off and then you took over.

"Me and Bucky were thinking about to retire and live a normal life." you stated with one breath closing your eyes and opening them to see a bit confused Sam.

"What do you mean?".

"Sam, we won't lie to you, we're both really tired of this Avenging life. And after our losses we are falling apart more and more. We appreciate all your and Wanda's help, but unfortunately is not enough. We are trying really hard to recover. But all this fighting is keeping us behind. Reminds us -and most certainly me- of the past. We can't keep living like this. We LOVE working with everyone here but it's not doing us any good. We would really, REALLY, appreciate it if you at least consider our retirement and talk things out with Fury."

You were staned by Bucky's words. You didn't expect him to take control of the conversation. And it was a really happy surprise.

"Wow, Buck. I forgot you could talk so much" Sam laughed. "Guys, I understand that your mental health is not stable and of course I noticed your struggle at your latest missions. I'll admit I was thinking to tell Fury give you some days off and retirement hit me like a truck." You both looked at his smiley face, when he turned his gaze behind you and you saw Wanda, who was coming slowly and was smiling too.

"I told Sam that you two needed some time off. But if you feel more comfortable with retirement we are both going to support you." she said while sitting next to Sam grabbing his hand into hers. "Also, let me tell you, I'm gonna help to convince Fury to give you what you want." She smirked, that knowing smirk which said yes, I'm going to manipulate him for you.

You were nearly in tears. You didn't believe that they accepted your decision so quickly and without hesitation. "You guys, you don't know how much this means to us." you teared up, standing to hug them both.

"Thank you so much. Both of you." Bucky said softly trying to keep himself from crying.

You pulled away and looked into their eyes. "When are we going go talk to Fury?"

"How about tomorrow?" Wanda questioned.

"Ok, tomorow then." Bucky said.

"Shall we go make some dinner? I'm starving!" Sam whined and you all laughed.

"Let's go" Wanda laughed and dragged you all to the kitchen.

After two burned steaks, 1 burned apple pie and somehow a burned salad from the boys, who wanted to show off to you, you and Wanda took over.

The dinner was so peaceful. So beautiful. They were your family and you really loved them. So much.

"Oh, guys, have you decided were are you going to live?" Wanda asked at some point.

"Y/N told me about her grand-grand mother's mansion in Magnolia Springs. She said that it's very big for two people, but it'll be big enough to build spare rooms and rooms for us to spend our time. I haven't saw it yet, but I trust her."

"Wait. Did you just say 'build'?" Sam said confused.

"Yeah well I thought it'll be nice to create a home with our hands." You answered.

"It sounds really sweet, but what about the money?" Wanda asked.

"Stark left to much money, for us to use. So we think its the best way to use them." Bucky said.

"Yeah, Tony left a lot money to everyone and I still don't know why." You giggled.

"He's dead and he still makes us happy."

You all smiled at that and fell into silence. Memories from Tony making you all smile. Bucky smiled on the stories you all said about him. His smile fell from his face. He wanted to say he is sorry. For his parents for the mess he created between Tony and Steve. Oh, how much he wanted to apologize.

"Um, I'm finished does anyone want desert?" Bucky asked after a while. You all raised your heads and looked at him.

"Yeah, I do. I'm coming to help you." Sam said and they both left for the kitchen.

"Are you sure?" Wanda asked a minute after the guys left.

"For our decision?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, yes I am. Bucky is an amazing guy and he is in the same boat with me. If we start over together it will be just a little bit easier."

"But sharing a home is a lot more than a start over, you know that."

"Wand me and Bucky are friends and we can do this. This will just be an adventure for us. We'll have fun, building our own house. Living a new life. Sure it'll be sometimes a little difficult, but we'll do this."

"I'm happy for both of you. I believe in you. And me and Sam will help you with what ever you need." She reached for your hand and held it.

"Thank you Wanda."You smiled at her. A smile which turned onto a smirk after a moment "oh and since you mentioned it. What's going on with you and Sammy?"

She left your hand and blushed like crazy. "Nothing, we're just friends"

"Yeah, yeah I believed you now Wands" you laughed.

"Shut up" A crimson color took over her cheeks and you laughed again.

-Meanwhile in the kitchen-

"Bucky, are you sure you wanna do this?"

"Yes, Sam, I'm 100% sure." Bucky sighed, cutting a big slice of cake for you.

"I mean you two don't know each other so long, to start a life together." Sam said with a concern voice. Bucky dropped slowly the knife and his head. But he immediately looked at him again.

"Sam, I trust her. She's been there for me in ways I couldn't even imagine. She never gives me an apologetic smile or looks at me with pity eyes. She is comforting in her own way, and she helps me when I need it even when I don't ask. I don't say that you or Wanda don't help me, it's just...she is...She's different and I like it. She makes me feel good."

"If she makes you happy, of course I won't get in the way. I just want to make sure that you're ok with that decision. I want the best for you bud." Sam admitted softly patting Bucky's shoulder. Bucky turned and hugged him tightly, not letting Sam breath for a bit.

"Ok, ok I need to breath now please." Bucky let him go and they both laughed.

"Ohh, bird brain I didn't ask you before." Bucky smirked without looking at him.

"What's it this time Tinman?" Sam rolled his eyes and said with an annoying voice.

"What's going on with you and Wanda?"

Sam choked on air while Bucky hit his back, still smirking.

"Nothing's happening."

"Yeah, yeah sure bird brain."

"Fuck off, asshat"

"Idiot."

"Let's go the girls are waiting."

They came after a while with four plates of chocolate cake. Your and Wanda's favorite.

"Here you are ladies." Sam excitedly said.

"Thank you boys" you smiled at both of them and continued your lovely night.

The dinner was over and you all were at your rooms waiting for sleep to take you. When a soft knock at your door, caught your attention.

Bucky opened further the door and whispered, "Doll, are you asleep?".

"No Buck, come in." He closed the door behind him and took small steps towards your bed.

"Hey" he waved at you.

"Hi" you chuckled.

"Can I please stay with you tonight?"

"Of course you can Buck." You pushed your covers and he laid beside, pulling up the blanket.

"Doll, am I the only nervous for tomorrow?"

"No, not really. I think I'm a bit nervous too. I mean we are going to tell Nick Fury that his last two super soldiers are going to retire and they're going to live like two farmers but yeah, no I'm not THAT nervous about that." You joked and he let a heartful belly laugh, that made your stomach feel weird, in a really good way.

"Yeah, way so nervous? It's so normal!" He laughed again and you followed.

"Seriously now Buck, Fury won't be happy. I'm slightly afraid that he'll refuse to retire us."

"Honestly, doll? I don't know what will happen tomorrow. Part of me hopes for the best but another part is just pessimistic."

"What will we do if he says no?"

"We'll see." he sighed.

"Ok" you said a lil' disappointed.

You curled closer to him and moved your gaze from the ceiling to his face. He found your eyes and spoke again softly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful silence, "come here, I don't mind." he smiled.

You pressed your body on his and wrapped your hands around him. He hugged you too and put a soft kiss on your head.

God only knew how much you both loved to be on each others embrace.

~~~~

When morning came, the nervousness came along with it. All your mind was thinking about rejection and Fury. You almost cried when the time for the meeting arrived.

Bucky came to your room to take you and went together, sharing some of the anxiety.

Before he opened the door, Bucky hugged you tightly and you hugged him back the same. You breathed and opened the door.

You greeted Fury and moved to sit down, next to each other, not wanting to let go the others side.

"Mr.Wilson informed me about your thoughts and decisions and of course the state of your mental health, and I have to say I'm surprised that you want to do such a thing together."

You looked at each other with a smile at your faces and a giving an actual loving gaze, and turned to Fury again and said and awkward yeah.

"So, where did that came from?" He said and confused you.

"What do you mean, sir?" Bucky said.

"Where that idea came from? How did you think such a thing? What brought you to that decision?"

"We just had a conversation together, after a tough night and we realized we can't do it any more."

"We want a new life. Bucky is really tired fighting and holding a gun on his hands and I'm really tired fighting too. But we don't have a problem helping whenever it's needed."

"We have a lot to discuss." Fury said with a frown.

After 2 hours and a lot convincing Fury agreed. He said that he will first check the house, the neighborhood, the neighbors' past, just to be sure. He said that he'll put Friday and a security system in the whole house. You hadn't disagreed of course. He also said that you'll get paid for whatever job you do for him, you'll still be his employees no matter where you live or what you do.

You didn't really care what jobs he'll give you eventually, you just wanted to live as far from this life as you could.

When you signed the papers, Fury dropped his serious face and said "I'm really proud of both of you" and left.

You turned and looked at Bucky, who just smiled. You smiled back at him and left, to start making plans for your new house.