Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Moonlight dipped into the room, silver on already pale skin pricked with goosebumps.

Those goosebumps trailed down from her scalp to her heavily covered body. Thick socks, leggings, sweatpants, tank top, oversized shirt, and oversized hoodie all weighed down by a heavy, chunky wool blanket.

And yet there she lay, hunched in a fetal position, shivering as the shine of the moon taunted her with the idea of the sun's warm touch. This wasn't going to work.

For the fifth time that week, the human pushed over the weighted blanket she had crafted herself with hope. The floor was like ice as the cold seeped through every fiber of her socks and licked at the bottom of her feet. She slipped on her shoes, jaw clenched with both frustration and cold.

The human was going for a walk. It's not like the temperature outside was much different from that of the inside, so she didn't even flinch as she opened her door and stepped out. Gentle gusts of air nipped at her cheeks and nose, blowing at her eardrums softly. Taunting. Maybe the inside was better, but she wasn't going to be getting any sleep. God, she wanted sleep so fucking badly she could cry.

She sighed. Keeping her arms crossed and head down as she walked, she was venturing to who-knows-where.

Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. The lack of sleep was really starting to get to her. She wasn't walking right, despite being perfectly sober. What was that thing again? Something, something alcohol from not sleeping.

Where was she going?

She stood on a sidewalk. And glancing up, there was another sidewalk just across the road. And even further ahead, the...what was it? Ancient buildings, old windows without glass (called what?). She blinked. And up ahead was an ancient building. The Colosseum means Godzilla. Fingernails dug into her skin as the cold started to bite her.

Her brain barely acknowledged his back plates poking out from above the dusty, ancient walls. She wasn't supposed to cross sidewalks--crosswalks--when she was drunk. But she hadn't drunk anything. Man, she needed some sleep.

She crossed it anyway because there was no point in going back. What would the human even do? Shiver under the blanket again? She didn't want to do that, so she crossed.

Maybe the human was just terrible at tracking time, but she then stood in front of the Colosseum, which was supposed to be a good walk away, still. When did she get here? Shaking her head rapidly, she squinted at Godzilla. Asleep. Like a fat lizard. She was supposed to be afraid--she was afraid the first time he slept in the Colosseum. She couldn't remember the fear well, though. What was there to be afraid of? He was sleeping. She was not.

The human walked through the shadowy entrance where moonlight did not taunt her. There were no cameras...because Godzilla was always watched. Was he? Shit, she needed to leave.

Her legs were glued to the ground. She blinked again, confused. Confused about her legs? Or confused about the fact that the air was becoming warm around her? The human shook her head rapidly again. What was even happening?

Okay, okay. The air was warm. It was night and it was cold--no, the air was warm. But why was it warm? It seemed to be coming from Godzilla; he was radiating heat. With a loose nod, she walked over to him--stumbled. The human kind of had to climb over and try not to trip on the complexities of the place. And in the blink of an eye, she was nearly jump scared as she was face to face with Godzilla's hand. Nearly jump scared because she was, well, a mess.

It laid palm down on the...floor...place. What do you call it? She climbed up onto it, digging her fingers into the grooves and lines between Godzilla's scales. It was like climbing a fucking mountain. Groaning, she squeezed out the last bits of strength in her exhausted muscles to make the difficult journey, though she was pretty sure it only took two pushes of her legs.

His scales were rough. They felt unbreakable, invincible. Something to support her as the human climbed onto the back of his hand. It rested limply near his even larger snout, and the warmth seemed to practically travel up her hands and calves where they touched his scales. She sighed with relief, slumping down onto her stomach and pressing her entire body to that small, small section of him.

Godzilla felt endless. He felt like the world. Hmm...

-

Wooosh.

Warm air flooded the tunnel of one of her ears and her face scrunched, batting away at the air. Shooing it. She hated it when her sleep was interrupted.

Wait.

The texture of rough, hard, black scales returned to her memories as her body processed what it was on. She wiggled the tips of her fingers on the...surface...to check. Fuck.

She had fallen asleep on the back of Godzilla's hand.

Oh man, how was she going to get out of this one?

At least she felt refreshed, refreshed enough to sprint away if Godzilla commanded it. The human pitied herself, attempting to bury her face into the scales, but was only met with the discomfort of an unbendable surface threatening to give her a nosebleed. There was no other way around it.

The human opened her eyes, slowly looking up through her eyebrows and raising her head to meet Godzilla's fiery stare. Her heart palpitated and she let out a shaky breath. No getting around it, no getting around it.

Godzilla's eyes were made of flames, eating up the sight of her in a way that made her squirm with the primal urge to run. Eating her up the way flames lapped at logs of wood in a bonfire. Her blood would be the red sparks.

No, no, there was no way of knowing whether he'd eat her or not. Plus, Godzilla had never been seen eating humans before. Plus, plus, he'd only been seen inhaling radioactive what-do-you-call-it from the nuclear power plants around the world.

She nodded at him, mostly to reassure herself. No eating was happening today. Maybe just a roar that'd break her eardrums. The human slid off the back of his hand, nearly tripping on broken material on the ground as she walked around his hand.

"I'm sorry," she said, bowing her head. She knew he didn't understand her language, but maybe he'd understand her tone of voice. "I was exhausted and not thinking right when I came here last night. It won't happen again."

Lifting her head as she turned away, the human left the Colosseum, embarrassment building in waves. She kind of wanted to run home to ensure that he couldn't watch her walking away for so long, but she didn't want to look afraid. The human wanted Godzilla to know that her saying those words and leaving was from guilt, not fear.

And when she did finally make it back to her apartment, she couldn't find her phone. She patted her blanket and then patted herself, fear mixing in with the embarrassment as she imagined having to walk back into the Colosseum for it. Luckily, she found it in her pocket and turned it on to look at the time.

"Two days? I slept for two days?

Chapter Text

"Come on, come on, it's a Saturday!"

Cherri. The human was surprised her fellow artistic friend didn't just change her name to "Cherri Bomb". As vibrant red, thick hair fell in waves around her shoulders and down her back, Cherri touched up her mascara in the mirror, lightbulbs framing it while highlighting her sharp cheekbones. She was either oblivious or uncaring about the pink and red streaks of paint tugging at the hairs on her arms.

"Cherri, you haven't even taken off your overalls, and your arms are covered in paint."

The human herself had cleaned up. How could she not? Being covered in dust from chiseling marble all day wasn't the ideal situation.

"I paint, and the paint left on me shows my character," Cherri responded, fixing her lipstick with the edge of a nail. The human let out a huff of a laugh. She couldn't help but admire Cherri's personality.

If Legally Blonde had a sister, Cherri would be the main character. Vibrant red hair, sharp face, a look that could cut, and—best of all, apparently!—an hourglass figure. Though, it was a little hidden by her overalls. The thick denim hugged her full hips, but her colorful—and once white—shirt was baggy at her stomach, concealing the dip from hip to waist just a bit. And looking down—if any respectful person would bother to—there were her sneakers, painted by Cherri herself. A single cherry on both as all kinds of animals ripped at it. Cherri wasn't fond of animals.

The human hauled Cherri away from the mirror by the waist. "Alright, if you insist, let's go."

"Yes! Friend bonding time!" Cherri exclaimed, letting herself be carried away. "Let's-a-go!"

"Oh, God."

-

The club was packed.

Bodies everywhere, stuffy air, lights going haywire, colors blinding her. The bass traveled up her legs, vibrating the muscles and tendons inside. Everyone was dancing and jumping, mouths moving to form noiseless sentences as whatever song was playing drowned them out. Groaning, she rubbed at her eyes; spotlights kept flash-banging her eyes when she wasn't staring at the floor. Too much to process, so she didn't.

"Friends stick together!" Cherri linked their arms. Thank the stars for that, too, because her voice was barely audible.

And Cherri knew her. She knew the human wasn't great at navigating these kinds of things. Where do you go? What do you do? She always let Cherri guide her wherever, because they never split apart unless Cherri's friends came along.

"Come on!" That's what Cherri had said, right? "I'll take you to the bar, gotta wait for the others!"

"Who else?!" the human yelled, but Cherri probably didn't hear her. She grabbed onto her painted upper arm with her free hand, gritting her teeth as they weaved through the musty crowd. She'd rather snort marble dust than touch these people.

"Here, here."

The bar was at the corner of the club, two bartenders tending to their respective sides. Cherri pulled out the seat closest to the door, then her phone lit up with a notification. The human sighed.

"They're here! It's Dave, Kin, and Lyla, k?" Cherri yelled at her. "Dave and Kin wanna have their last night out before Abel comes in! You wanna come or stay here?!"

"I'll stay!"

"Stay safe!" Cherri's hand slipped into the large pocket of her overalls and she leaned close to the human, blocking anyone from seeing as something cool and rectangular was slipped into her sweaty palm. The human glanced down, a taser. "You know what to do if something happens!"

The human nodded, smiling at Cherri's mindfulness, and pushed the taser into the right pocket of her zip-up hoodie. Cherri touched her upper arm, smiling back, and left for the entrance.

Dave and Kin. Straining her neck, she could see the two madly-in-love idiots grinning happily with Lyla leaning against them as Cherri speed-walked over. Those two gays were the type to never divorce, for sure. No doubt they were experiencing the best year of their life.

Taking out her wallet from the front pocket of her pants, she pulled out her card and swiveled around in her seat. She smiled at the waiter, who nodded at her and approached.

"How can I help ya?"

"Double bourbon, neat, please."

"Sure thing."

The human just hoped nothing would happen to the two lovers as they traversed around Italy. Sure, same-sex marriage was allowed, but when it came to children, things were pretty much a no. Though, of course, they didn't live in Italy. They were just visiting. Didn't stop her from worrying, though.

"Here you are." The bartender slid the drink over. "Tab or no?"

"Tab." The human passed over her card.

To be honest, she just wanted to drown out the night. She accompanied Cherri on these trips because no woman should go to a club alone, and also because Cherri insisted that she needed excitement every once in a while. Well, the drink wasn't really exciting as she downed half of it, but it did make her feel more comfortable. It was her go-to.

"Hey!"

Or maybe she'd be forced to listen to people yell over the music next to her ears.

A tap on her shoulder. "Hey!"

Oh. That was for her. Well, the night was going to be even less exciting. She'd never met a good stranger at a club.

The human hummed to herself and looked over at the man sitting next to her. He grinned at her, offering a handshake. "Denis, you?!"

Her mind rapidly scrolled through a list of fake names. She gave a loose handshake, fingers tightening around her glass as she prepared to down the rest of it. "Rosa!" And she did.

"Cool! You here with anyone?!"

So, this guy was young. The human could tell. Bright eyes, soft (probably. If the lights allowed her to see clearly) skin, and the overall vibe that he either just turned twenty-two or he's just twenty-one. The human? Twenty-eight years old.

"Yeah!" She nodded towards the dance floor, where Cherri and the others were no doubt laughing and letting loose. "Four of them over there!"

"Huh!" Briefly, she wondered if this guy was going into the military sometime soon. Maybe he was indecisive about whether he was going to college or following in his parent's footsteps. He then nodded at her empty glass, and she wondered if she did need the taser. "Want another?"

"It's on my tab, don't worry about it! But yeah!"

The bartender was handing someone else their drink when they locked eyes. She smiled at them, and they nodded back, heading right over. "Another double bourbon, neat, please!"

"Make that two!"

Hm. The bartender nodded and walked off.

"You know I'm not putting your drink on my tab, right?!" Please, please don't protest.

The guy nodded, laughing. "'Course! So, you American or something?!"

"Nope!" A common assumption, but wrong. "Born and raised here!"

Well, she did look American, if Americans did really have that look about them. She didn't know; all she knew was that everyone thought she was American. She really needed to do some digging into her ancestry or something.

"Not me!" He laughed again, young face and smooth skin. Crewcut. "Parents are from Boston! They had me, then we moved here when I was two!"

And the conversation continued. And continued. And the human, knowing she was stupid and making stupid mistakes, kept buying and downing more drinks. But in her increasingly drunken state, she kept telling herself, "Friends are over there. Taser in my pocket. Nothing can go wrong."

He asked her more questions than the doctor when she got her tubes tied at twenty-three. "What's your job?", "What do you do on weekends?", "You like clubs like this or drinking out on the streets more?", "Got any socials?" By the stars, the human was going to know herself better by the end of the night with the amount of questions he asked.

"Wanna get out of here?"

Oh, man.

The human swayed back and forth on her stool, and the bartender placed a bottle of water in front of her without her asking them to. Was that really a line people still use nowadays? She grabbed the bottle, whimpering when it wouldn't open, and set it down with a sigh. The bartender looked over and swiftly opened it for her.

"No."

The guy blinked. Here we go!

She hummed to herself as the guy took in a deep breath. The gates of Hell were going to open. "But we've been talking for so long!", "Come on, don't you need to rest anyways, look at you!", "We won't do anything, I'll just take you back to mine so you can get better!", "You just led me on!"

"But we've been talking for the past thirty-five minutes!" Bingo! Under the lip of the bar, she finger-gunned the wood. "We don't have to do anything! I mean, I don't even want to do anything with you! It's just—" Here it comes!—"looking at you, you've been drinking a lot, and I can't see your friends!" Did she tell them what they looked like? "It'd be wrong for me to just leave you here!"

One point. Then another point. She was on a roll.

"It's fine!" The human waved him off, head feeling all wooshy-washy. "Don't even try, man! Don't even try!"

Pretty quickly, she managed to close her tab. She tucked her wallet and card in her pockets without bothering to put them together, glancing at the guy. She didn't want him to become a pleading mess or, more realistically, the kind to tug her out of the club while she stumbled around.

One foot in front of the other, the human did the fantastic and nausea-inducing job of making her way out of the club, eyes switching from the floor to the people in front of her rapidly. It was like navigating a maze filled with sweaty bodies. She cringed every time she brushed against someone's back or arm.

And then she broke free.

The cold night air was divinely refreshing. She sucked it in deep into her lungs, trying to make it drag out the musty, thick air of the club. Going home wouldn't be too hard. She just had to cross the Colosseum. It was like a straight line walk (no, it wasn't, but her muscle memory kept her in good hands).

Plus...she didn't feel like talking to any of the strangers around, nor did she feel like going back into that club and squeezing her way through more sweaty bodies to find Cherri. Even from outside, the bass of whatever they were playing vibrated her shoes. Her legs had gone numb from the...massage or whatever. Glasses clinked around, men and women and whatever else laughing and chatting as always. Time existed a little differently. It was literally the hours between work and more work. This was society's small break, but time seemed to stand still.

Well, whatever, the human needed to make her way back to her apartment.

Oh God, fuck her apartment.

The walk back would do her good, though, she was sure of it. Away from the noise, away from the everything. The human began their stumble down that straight line that was no longer straight because of, well, her.

She didn't really notice when all the bass and chatter faded away. Crickets and soft gusts of air took their place. She was so, so tired.

If she was being honest, which she couldn't help but always be when drunk, she hadn't slept for two days. Along with that, it'd been two days since she slept on Godzilla.

God. The memories hit her brain like a truck. A pleasant truck, but a truck nonetheless. Like a wave. Godzilla had filled her with warmth. She had felt it so deep in her muscles that she couldn't help but collapse on him when she finally managed to climb on him that one time. The human remembered it, yeah. Snippets and funny waves of it, anyway. She remembered the feelings mostly.

Hmph. Her memory only seemed to appear when she was least expecting it.

Two days without sleep. An alcohol content of who-knows-what. The human stumbled along until her brain began to pry her towards something. No, wait, what was this feeling? She just felt like she needed to look to the right.

The Colosseum. She tilted her head down, looking up beneath her eyelashes, and oh boy, would you look at who was there? Sleeping like a hibernating something, the thick muscled, scaly, warm, kind of comfortable Godzilla. Anything is comfortable if you haven't slept in four days, though.

Her apartment was really cold, and he was really warm. And he hadn't minded her sleeping on him last time! What was there to lose? Nothing, except maybe her pride. She cackled to herself. That was a future her problem, and so was the headache she was bound to have in the morning.

"Ah, fugh it," she decided, heavy weights tugging her down to the Earth's core.

The human shuffled and wobbled over to the familiar entrance of the Colosseum, placing her hand on the rough walls for support as she did. She lightly pushed herself off the entrance once she was through and spotted an oh-so-recognizable hand lying limp on the stone-littered floor.

Mhm. Very good idea. The warmth was already spreading all over her body, not that her face needed it. She hissed, grumbled, and whined as she stumbled over broken pieces of architecture to get to him. But when she finally reached Godzilla's hand, she looked up at his face and saw his eyes were open.

Open. Red. Watching or staring at her. His face totally relaxed, except for a small squint of his eyes. Was he getting ready to scrunch his snout and growl, flashing silvers of moist, giant teeth at her? The human blinked, shifting her weight harshly from one foot to the other as she adjusted herself. She didn't know what to do.

There was a tiny voice—probably something sensible, who knows—at the corner of her mind telling her to run away screaming. The rest told her to wait. Because if this guy didn't move, she was going to climb on his hand real soon, no matter how much he watched her.

The hand began shifting and the human frowned. If this guy moved his hand away, she'd be more upset than he ever could be in life. And then his hand slowly flipped over, eyes still carefully watching her, and revealed a squishy-looking palm.

Blinking, the human swayed back and forth. His palm? He was offering his palm to her? Wow. Future her would think that honorary. Well, future her would be nervous about all this because she was a woose, but current her was better than that. This was the opportunity of a lifetime! No cold apartment, no cold.

She didn't waste any more time. Trying to hone in her focus, she placed her hands on top of his palm and hoisted herself up, feeling a rush in her head as she did. Then she crawled over to one of his fingers and laid down. Yeah, that was it. Her head laid on that squishy part of his finger as the rest laid on his palm. It was warm and pretty comfortable.

Looking up and forward, Godzilla's eyes were still on her. A huff blew out of his nose—disbelief? Amusement? Whatever it was, she didn't care. Her mind pulled her to sleep.

And her eyes shut.

-

Oh God. What had she done?

Familiar warm air brushed over her as her head pounded hard. Groaning, she curled in on herself, holding her face. She knew one thing, one very obvious thing considering her first few observations just by touch alone.

She had fallen asleep on Godzilla. Again.

How embarrassing. Well, at least he was probably still asleep, unlike last time. Something internally tugged at her; something felt wrong.

She scraped her brain for memories. At first, she tried not to think too hard, but then she just went all in. As if it mattered whether or not her headache got worse, it was already pretty bad. Going through the memories, they were a bit hazy but mostly intact.

A guy coming up at the bar, a conversation that felt like harassment, drink after drink (oh, she felt bad for her credit card), the foreseen but disappointing question from the guy, leaving, internal tug to look at the Colosseum, Godzilla's eyes, and then her about to fall asleep on his palm.

He had offered her his palm? Talk about surprises.

But she had to get up. The alcohol had shriveled her dry, turning her mouth into sandpaper. Gravity was pulling at her ten times harder than usual, and her body groaned as she forced her muscles to work.

"Oh, fuck!" the human growled, eyes squeezing shut as she ripped her head away from the sun.

She had tried to open her eyes and had been immediately flash-banged by the piercing light of it. It felt like someone had taken a shovel to the inside of her skull and was scooping out her brain. Controlling her breathing to the best of her ability, the human rubbed at her forehead and temple before slowly opening her eyes to look at Godzilla's palm.

There was no doubt this time that he was still asleep. Godzilla never slept for a single night unless it was to gather enough energy to leave, which was what he had done after his fight in 2014. So, she didn't feel too worried about any watchful, red eyes. No, she was more worried about her ability to function properly with the sun glaring down at her.

Fuck. The human straightened her spine, not daring to look up.

Let's do this.