#excuse the questionable hands I simply Did Not Want to make them any more detailed because. I just Didn’t

[cowboyfromh3ll]

how about for arthur, john, and charles: your hcs on how each would react to a shyer (not naive) reader who has a crush on him and keeps needing his “help” for various things so she can get his attention, and eventually working up the nerve to be more forward and hopefully pique his interest. who would catch on the fastest? would any of them realize before or after she becomes more forward and how would they react from there? smut absolutely welcome 🙏🏻

HC for Shy!Reader ft. Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Charles Smith

HCs are so easy and fun to write

Warnings: smut

Arthur Morgan

Arthur did not allow you much time to go and ask for help given his repeated and lengthy absences from camp

But when he was around to help, he put his all into it

No matter how mundane or small it may be, he always made sure to help you until satisfaction. Similar to the way he helps random people around the map, he helps you in the same way. 

But the level at which you asked for help was quite baffling to Arthur, but he never made a comment on it. He would never want to make you feel as though you were somehow less competent at doing things than the average person

He liked the way you would try to strike up conversation with him whenever he was helping you, recounting his travels to you in detail upon request

Part of him wondered why the two of you didn’t just talk more often outside of his time helping you. What he didn’t know is that you were unable to come up with a decent, not-too-forthcoming, excuse as to why the two of you should spend more time together alone 

He probably wouldn’t catch onto that fact too quickly, instead thinking you were just a person who wasn’t afraid of asking for help

He’d definitely think something was up when he realizes he’s the only one you ask

Maybe he’s just a dependable guy? He thinks to himself

But when you ask him to help you go fishing, come to find out you didn’t even have a rod, it was too late to back out as the two of you were already alone down the lake at Clemens point

He felt quite touched when you told him you really just wanted to spend time together, and that you weren’t sure how else to ask

Insisted you be more forward with him to establish a level of comfort between you two, but he still found it quite cute when you would shyly ask him for help

Eventually led to you two becoming very close, noticeably sweet on each other. Even the gang was able to catch on.

NSFW

Even though the two of you had been in an established relationship, your bashfulness did not end.

Asking for help for sexual matters was something you subtly hinted at or wordlessly requested, rather than outright saying it

Arthur himself was a man who needed clear permission, and your hints would be met with crudely sexual questions asking for confirmation

“You wanna have sex? Is that what you’re saying? Or am I understanding this all wrong.” 

His forwardness would have you burying your burning face in your shared cot as you nodded

Arthur was a very perceptive man, so when asking if he was rubbing your clit just right or if he needed to slow his thrusts down, you’d squeak out an embarrassed response

When you wanted him to touch you in a certain place, you’d nudge him in the direction, yank on his hand or hair, or simply just bashfully point wordlessly

Makes sure to constantly ask questions because he knows you’re not very vocal when it comes to self advocacy

Extremely tender and very patient with you, just wants to make you feel comfortable in the end to be able to vocalize your needs

John Marston (my pookie)

This man is as dense and stupid as a bag of rocks

The man himself doesn’t even know what he wants, so figuring out what you want is mental gymnastics on its own

He’s around pretty often helping around camp, and he doesn’t mind taking on the brunt of your chores as well

Doesn’t realize what you’re trying to do so sometimes he turns you down, saying he’s too busy

“Are you really that helpless?” 

He’d stand there confused as you stormed off angrily, only to have him follow you around camp begging for forgiveness

“I ain’t mean that, I’m happy to help you. I’m a fool, honest.”

You’d forgive him eventually

If it’s a more tedious task you need help with, he would get into the zone. Honing in all his attention while trying to fulfill his efforts in helping you as competently as he can

Focuses so much, that sometimes if you try to strike up a conversation about his day, he’ll either shut you down, or be so concentrated he won't even register your question

“Hold on, can you stop talking for a sec? I’m tryna concentrate.”

Would be equally as confused when you huff angrily and turn away while crossing your arms

You realize yourself that John isn’t picking up any hints, so you offer your own help as a form of “repayment” for everything he’s done for you

Is also dense about that 

“I appreciate the help, little lady. Though I don’t see why you’d willingly offer to help to fix a wagon wheel.”

Kinda laughable how oblivious he is

Eventually you have to muster up all the courage possible to ask him on a date to town

Emphasize the word date. Or else he’ll think you just want help with errands or something

Will accept, but won’t shut up the whole time about how sudden this is and how he would’ve never seen it coming

NSFW

Would get very excited if you even hint at something sexual

Much like Arthur, he’d ask for confirmation, but much more enthusiastically

“So you wanna fuck right? Right?!” 

Kinda desperate but who can blame him, you’re equally as horny

Get so caught up in excitement he gets straight to it, has to be reminded to ask questions and check up on you

The one time where you actually feel compelled to tell him things straight up instead of just hinting at it

“For the love of god, slow down Marston!”

He would for a few minutes, then get back to it

Would still be shy with asking, but you get so frustrated with how dense he is you’re kinda forced to

His excitement rubs off on you, so he doesn’t mind at all when you just shove his face between your thighs, that does all the speaking for you

Says shit like “You like that, don’t you?” without actually waiting for a response

Gets very embarrassed when you say no and ask him to do it another way

Charles Smith

This man's love language is literally acts of service

He’d probably end up falling for you in the process of helping you out so often

Will be more than happy to take you up on every request for help

Not only does it make you happy, but it makes him feel good for being able to help someone

Literally thrives off of it

He would be the one to pick up on it the fastest, but he wouldn’t make a comment. He doesn’t want to scare you off by being too forward and therefore curtailing your requests for help

Would be very intimate while helping you

“Hey, come closer to take a look at how I do it.”

You would lean in incredibly close, so much so that you’d be able to hear his breathing

Would sometimes take your hands and make you do it as well

Hands would linger far longer than necessary while helping you

And you aren’t naive! You knew what he was doing! He was flirting with you!

From an outside perspective, it appeared as though the two of you were just sitting around together and flirting rather than doing something to help you

“Like this?” You’d ask, which was followed by a giggle

It was pure self indulgence

He would often approach you himself and ask if you needed help on anything

Other times, he’d ask if you wanted to learn something new, showing you how to make weapons or how to identify certain plants from one another

Some tasks would be found mundane by others, but it was the most entertaining thing in the world as long as Charles was teaching you

You would feel most comfortable with him with asking him out, your question sounding more like a mutual profession of love from one another

NSFW

So so gentle

Much like in your relationship, you’d feel far more comfortable expressing your wants and desires to him

But you still struggle to maintain eye contact while saying it

If you turn your face away during sex he’ll gently cup your cheek and move your head to face him

Can pick up on your body language if you don’t feel too vocal

Will slow down or pick up the pace based on how your body reacts

Your moans are also a good indicator for him to know

Will also ask you questions before and after sex, like your some sort of food critic and you’re giving him feedback on his dish

You guys will probably sit down and have whole talks about your sex life, as embarrassed as it makes you, but he finds it necessary

Guy is a huge giver, in no time, he’ll know your body and what you do and don’t like like the back of his hand

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption community #van der linde gang x reader #writing #red dead fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan smut #John Marston #john marston x reader #john marston x reader smut #john marston smut #arthur morgan x reader smut #charles smith #charles smith x reader #charles smith x reader smut #charles smith smut #charles smith x reader fluff #arthur morgan x reader fluff #John Marston x reader fluff #john marston hc #arthur morgan hc #charles Smith hc #john marston fluff #arthur morgan fluff #charles Smith fluff

[snailpaste]

Can i get some McSugarDaddy Crocodile headcannons but reader actually has feelings for croco? ive been thinking about this a little too much lately

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile x GN!Reader

CONTENT: Crocodile x GN! Reader, SFW, kind of mutual pining

AN: This isn't what i wanted but if I didn’t post it now I think it’d just go to the great fic graveyard in my drive (30 and counting) sorry for the wait ;-;

You’d caught crocodile’s eye at one of the many Gala’s he hosted (after all, charity was always a brilliant way for him to further his influence, to make connections and gain power), where he’d struck up conversation with you after asking to share a drink. It had gone well, and by the time the event had drawn to an end he’d given you his den den number and offered to pay for your taxi home.

Crocodile wasn’t one to chase after people, much more content to work on furthering himself or his many business enterprises. He simply didn’t need to – there were enough many men and women willing to fling themselves at him should he ever be in need of company – which is why he found it so strange that, not but two days after meeting you at a Gala, here he was, den-den pulled closer towards him on his desk than usual, eyes flickering to it every so often as he worked through the growing heap of paperwork.

rest under cut ->

If anyone were to ask why, not they would ever question him, he’d simply tell them he was waiting on an important business call, rather than hoping for a stranger, who’s laugh he unfortunately hadn’t been able to stop thinking about, to call.

Your arrangement started as “purely transactional,” in the words of Crocodile.

He didn’t expect sexual favours (at least, to begin with) but simply wanted your company at events, a presence beside him to help gnaw away at the tedious meetings and public appearances he endured in the name of business. You’d wake up with a voice message on your den den, telling you to be ready at 7, with details scarce aside from to check your mailbox, inside which was a new outfit fitting for whatever event he saw fit to bring you to. Over time as he learned more about you, they became more and more tailored to your tastes.

He kept things distant at the start. His touches were modest, an arm around your waist or shoulder, a hand guiding you at the small of your back, but nothing more. You found yourself begging to crave his touch, leaning into the warmth of his palm or wrapping your own around his arm.

His conversations, while interesting, never betrayed any of his true emotions, and he opted to leave you with cash rather than buying anything else for you specifically. Gradually, you began to hope might actually start to open up to you. What did he look like unguarded? How did he look when he was at peace 

As the weeks passed, you found yourself growing accustomed to his presence, the initial intimidation and curiosity replaced by a quiet comfort. Crocodile listens to whatever you have to say intently, eyes never leaving your face, always asking the right questions and relishing in the way you blush when he leans closer to you, blowing cigar smoke out the window and brushing your hair out of your face.

While Crocodile isn’t out of touch with his feelings, he does prefer to ignore them. He immediately noticed how you changed towards him, leaning your head into his hand when he cupped your cheek and laughing a little bit more openly, and sneaking looks when you thought he didn’t notice – he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart feel just a little warmer.

Your dates, as you unknowingly began to phrase them much to his amusement, became far more frequent, with him using anything as an excuse to be around you for longer. Crocodile, it seemed, had an uncanny ability to understand your desires. He took you to places and events you’d been wanting to go to without you asking, such as art galleries, cosy bookstores and grand libraries, or bookings at theatres or cinemas.

Crocodile encourages you to pursue any and all of your interests- there’s nothing he admires more than when you go off on a tangent about something you’re passionate about, or your dedication. With him, money isn’t an issue, he’ll happily pay whatever fees you might need to achieve.

Your relationship progressed from you being a pretty thing draped off of his arm, another way for him to flaunt his wealth and power, to something more personal. He surprised you with a visit to something you’d mentioned excitedly to him weeks ago, booked the wing of a restaurant you fancied for just the two of you, and invited you with him to the opening evening of an exclusive art exhibition of his favourite movement.

It was only when he caught himself thinking about you with a smile while smoking his evening cigar, that crocodile decided to address how he felt– whatever it was.

After a long night that left you nodding off and leaning against him, crocodile opted to take you back to his house. He’d carried you up to a guest room with his jacket wrapped around your shoulders, placing you down in the bed and mumbling a soft good-night into your hair. It was then that, in your half-asleep stupor, you accidentally confessed your feelings, clinging sleepily to his shoulders and mumbling for him to stay with you. He didn’t make a big deal of it, but he felt his heart skip a beat, and allowed you to cuddle against his chest until you fell asleep.

The following morning he told you plainly and simply, wanting to cut the tension that ran thick as you drank him out of the corner of your eye (and how could you not, with normally slicked back hair in loose waves, ringed hands sliding you a coffee across the island, his bare chest peeking through his dark brocade dressing gown) that he was interested in you, interested in a relationship more than this.

After this, he begins to open up- lets you run your hands through his hair from behind, and stay at his house as often as you’d like. His laughs become lighter and more genuine, and you find he has a dimple in his left cheek whenever he smiles just so.

He still buys you gifts and treats you, but now they’re far more intimate, and more tailored to your tastes than ever. He takes you with him on his business trips around the globe, letting you soak in the sun or encouraging you to explore the attractions while he attends to business.

He surprises you with gifts delivered directly to your house, a box of your favourite treats, each delicately wrapped in coloured paper, a potted plant he collected from your shared trip to alabasta, or something he saw you looking at or considering buying with his own note attached. Another time, he appeared at your doorstep with an assortment of flowers, (he’s very into “classic courting”) each flower was one he picked carefully to reflect a message to you.

His love languages are quality time and acts of service, but he craves physical touch and, as you find, becomes quite clingy when he’s tired. He loves sharing baths with you, holding you to his chest and relaxing in the warm bubbles, and on his one day of rest per week, lazing around in bed with you during the early morning hours.

The time he realised he was well and truly in love with you was when you were sitting in his lap, his arm looped around your waist and hand smoothing over your cheek, as you had reached up to trace your fingertips over his raised scar. He’d felt his heart jump into his throat at the feeling, realising he’d never allow anyone else to touch him there, and when you smiled at the light dusting to his cheeks, he realised he was well and truly fucked.

#snailpaste: moots #snailpaste: inbox #snailpaste: writing #op:crocodile #crocodile x gn reader #crocodile x gender neutral reader #one piece x gn reader #one piece x gender neutral reader #crocodile x reader #one piece x reader

[yourheart-inmyhands]

I don't know what i should be saying but can i maybe request a part 2 for the yan nuevellete omfg his name its been so long and i cant remember it with the fisherman post sorry if its bad my social skills are trash🥹

ah it's ok and yes his name is very ridiculous lol, sorry this took so long, not sure if you're still interested in reading my content but i tried my best to make this one nice for you :]

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including kidnapping, mentions of reader having a fishhook stuck in them, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Neuvillette is fascinated by what he’s seeing, the sand shifting from soft and loose to tightly packed together and damp from the rolling waves. Normally he would’ve been more mindful to not sully his attire, but right now his attention was on the individual to whom his melusines seemed so attentive.

It’s not surprising that the melusines are so desperate to help, the kind creatures were always the first to lend a hand or rather a paw when they could. But what did surprise Neuvillette, more so than the fish hook, was the creature it was stuck to. Approaching the group, Neuvillette makes his way through the small crowd as gently as he could. 

His heart nearly stops when he finally lays eyes on you, your hair still damp with seawater as you try to hold still. The hook is nearly removed by now, but the mark it left behind will surely be permanent.

“I was under the impression that all fishkin were extinct. We have not seen any of you on land in… in decades.” Neuvillette can barely mask the awe in his voice, his eyes flickering over every detail of your form. He can’t believe that he’s actually seeing a real fishman with his eyes, for decades the dragon had believed them to no longer exist, just as every other person living in Fontaine.

“Not extinct, we just stay under the water.” Neuvillette is impressed to hear this, while fishman have always been incredible, they must’ve gone through years of evolutionary changes to be able to survive in such depths. This only draws in more questions and curiosities though. If they were so intent on staying underwater then what was this one doing on land? Surely they wouldn’t dare come close enough to land to get caught in such a simple fishing hook?

Seeing you up close and in person doesn’t nearly curb as much curiosity as Neuvillette would like, so it’s no surprise that he finds some excuse to keep you around for longer. He says he needs you to come into the city with him to file a proper report on what happened, after all this was protected land, there should not have been any fishing gear brought around. 

Neuvillette has no intentions of just letting you return to the sea though, instead, he finds some excuse to invite you back to his home, wherein he introduces you to your new place of residence. He’s no monster, he allows you to stay in the pool room where you can dive into the depths of the pool, but until he has satiated his need for knowledge, he is determined to keep you.

It’s sort of the same feeling of having a new little pet, the desire to want to spend every second with them, watching and learning and playing. He understands your frustration, smiling fondly to himself as you sit at the bottom of the pool, pouting. But he simply can’t find it in himself to be sorry. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and he’d be foolish to let it pass him by.

#genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x male reader #yandere genshin x gender neutral reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x male reader #neuvillette x gender neutral reader #yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette x gender neutral reader #yandere neuvillette x male reader #yandere genshin #genshin yandere #yandere neuvillette #neuvillette yandere

[floralcyanide]

ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ!ᴊᴏʜɴ “ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ” ᴇɢᴀɴ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ ɪɪ

Your job at the museum teaches you more than you think when it’s opening night for a WWII exhibit.

pairing: professor!john "bucky" egan / fem!reader

warnings: none!

author’s note: I'm thinking the next part to this will be an actual fanfic but we'll see (:

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

✦ You work hard on your first paper based on your thesis. Dr. Egan gives you pointers here and there. Sometimes, you go to his office just to chat when you aren’t doing research. 

✦ He doesn’t go into detail about his personal life, but you do know he’s divorced and has a kid who’s a teenager. He talks about his son a lot, and it brings a smile to your face. Dr. Egan says he hopes his son is just as smart as you when he gets to college. 

✦ He mentions a trip to DC for the Master’s program. You jump at the idea, much to Dr. Evan’s delight. You ask if he’s going, and he says no. You wonder why but don’t bother to ask. There’s a lot that Dr. Egan doesn’t seem like he wishes to tell you. And you wonder if it’s simply because he’s your superior or if it’s something else. Either way, you’re curious. But you don’t want to cross a line. 

✦ You talk a lot about your grandfather to Professor Egan; he always listens patiently and even gives you a moment to gather yourself when you become emotional. You also talk about your father a good bit. Dr. Egan asks what he does, and you explain that he used to be a pilot in the last war. Dr. Egan makes a peculiar face but brushes it off quickly.

✦ He asks what squadron your father was in. “My father was in the Hundredth. He talks about his experience a lot.” Dr. Egan suddenly checks his watch and excuses himself, saying he had to be somewhere and that you were welcome to return to his office tomorrow.

✦ You leave confused about what caused the sudden change in Professor Egan's demeanor but shake it off. You do come again the following day and bring coffee, apologizing for anything you may have bothered him with.

✦ “It wasn’t anything you said, don’t worry,” Dr. Egan says, “I just lost track of time. I tend to do that with you a lot.” You try not to get flustered at his comment when he gives you a soft smile with it. 

✦ Whenever you aren’t researching or hanging with Dr. Egan, you work at the local World War II museum, creating exhibits and giving guests tours. It’s the opening of the new exhibit of the airmen of the war tonight, and you’re dressed your best. You’re happy to explain to guests the timeline of the war and show them photographs and artifacts. 

✦ A familiar figure catches your eye. You notice a tall, graying man with his hands shoved in his pockets, eyeing photos of the squadron your father was in that he donated to the exhibit. You approach the man, “Have any questions?” he turns around, and sure enough, it’s Dr. Egan.

✦ “Professor Egan! I didn’t expect you to be here!” you smile as he looks at you knowingly, with a bit of defeat. “I knew you’d be here, actually,” he says. You give him a confused look.

✦ Dr. Egan points at the group photo of the remaining airmen from the 100th who live to V Day to a specific man with a dashing grin. “See this guy here? Does he look familiar to you?” You squint, leaning close to the photograph you’ve seen many times. Then you realize that dashing smile only belongs to one person.

✦ You carefully look over to Dr. Egan, unsure of what to say. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask. “Didn’t want people, especially students, to see me differently.” “How would they see you in any way other than a hero?” you ask, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not really the ideal profession,” Dr. Egan swallows, unable to look you in the eye. You sigh, “It was war, Professor. You did what needed to be done, unfortunately. And it’s over now.”

✦ “I just felt you needed to know about my past,” Dr. Egan admits, “Especially since we’ve grown so close professionally and your father was in the same squadron as me. It was only time before you found out.”

✦ “I’d love to know everything you’re willing to tell me. Especially since it’ll help with my research. Not to mention there’s probably stuff my father never mentioned,” you chuckle. There’s a mischievous glint in Dr. Egan’s eye at that statement. “Lunch tomorrow?”

#john egan #john bucky egan #john “bucky” egan #callum turner #john egan x reader #john bucky egan x reader #john “bucky” egan x reader #callum turner x reader #mota #masters of the air #john egan fanfic #john bucky egan fanfic #masters of the air fanfic #floralcyanide writes

[armin-supremacy]

trust in me

pairing: lucifer/mammon (seperate) x gn!mc

genre: hurt/comfort

prompt: once again, @sparkbeast20 is a genius. original prompt here.

🫧 part one located here 🫧 part three located here 🫧 final located here 🫧 bonus chapter located here 🫧

You were at a loss.

It had been going on for two weeks today. All the brothers had been avoiding you, some more subtle than others. You'd assume it was just a weird funk. But everytime you tried to do something with them or simply chat, they'd have some excuse and scurry away.

You won't lie, it hurt.

They even skipped out on dinner, claiming they weren't hungry or had just eaten already.

You felt alienated again, just like your first few weeks living with them.

"Why so glum, MC?"

You jumped at the sudden presence, glancing back to meet Solomon's worried gaze. "Hey, Solomon", you greeted.

The sorcerer rose a brow and offered a small smile. "You didn't answer my question."

"They boys have been avoiding for the past two weeks", you began. Solomon watched as your expression saddened. "I don't know what I did, but eveytime I try to fix it, they suddenly have plans."

Solomon thought for a moment. "Think that nightmare effected them more than we assumed?"

You perked up immediately, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Nightmare? What are you talking about?"

Solomon looked at you in surprise. "Oh you weren't aware? Apparently they all had the same nightmare. By the looks of it, it left quite the impression."

"What nightmare?" You questioned. Then you shook your head. "Wait. How do you know anyway?"

"That would explain why Satan-" he began to mutter to himself.

"Solomon!" You cut him off. You were becoming desperate. The boys were your family. You can't stand them avoiding you like this.

Solomon cleared his throat. "Satan came to me a few days ago asking about certain connections with pacts and if they can be affected or affect dreams."

Solomon continued.

"When I asked why he wanted to know, he said he and the others shared a nightmare at the same time." he stated. He let out a small sigh. "Sadly, I couldn't be of any help. I've never heard nor experienced such a thing."

"Did he tell you the nightmare?" you questioned. Solomon nodded, giving you a hum in response. You bit your lip. "Can you tell me about it?"

Something passed in Solomon's expression. Worry? Concern? "I don't think that's a good idea."

You hesitate. It must be awful if Solomon was so hesitant to tell you. Usually he'd jump on the opportunity to spill what he knows about them, wanting to watch the outcome of the information he'd shared with you.

"Please? I need to know what's got them so shaken up."

Solomon sighed out. He gave you a sad smile. "Alright. But please tell me to stop if you get too upset."

You nodded. You felt bad because you wouldn't do that. You had to know what they were going through.

After Solomon explained, in great detail at that, the nightmare Satan had relayed to him, you felt like you were going to throw up.

No wonder they were avoiding you. It was then, your heart began to weigh heavy. The puzzle was piecing together.

It all made sense.

Lucifer suddenly taking on more work, locking himself away in his office. Mammon flinching everytime you told him to hand you something, even though it was never a command. Leviathan and Satan both tensing eveytime you called their names. Asmodeus never meeting your eyes anymore. Beelzebub speaking in cautious sentences whenever you ask him something, as of you'll suddenly slip a switch. Belphegor not speaking at all, only giving you a nod or shake of his head when you managed to get a sentence to him.

Now you know why.

So one by one, you weren't going to stop until you had fixed the situation.

It was only fitting the oldest be the first you make amends with. You stood in front of his office, your hand up ready to knock on the door.

With a deep breath, you knocked. "Lucifer? Can we talk?"

You received no answer. You knocked once more. Again, no response. This was normal for Leviathan. But Lucifer? Not at all.

You pushed the door, peeking inside. Lucifer sat at his desk, not even noticing you had entered his space.

"Lucifer?"

Your voice startled him. His gaze quickly shifted to you, his body slightly relaxing to see it wasn't someone unpleasant waltzing in. He cleared his throat slightly. "MC. I'm sorry, but now isn't the best time-"

"Lucifer please? Just for a moment?"

Your voice was soft and pleading. Damnit. He couldn't say no. Lucifer had no excuse this time. He gave a nod and you brightened.

Progress.

"What's on your mind?"

"I talked to Solomon", you began. If it wasn't for the fact you knew Lucifer better than anyone else, especially thanks to the pact, you would've missed how his body tensed. How he tried to hard to keep an nonchalant expression.

"That's good. Diavolo will be more than thrilled to hear you've been more social with others in the program-"

"I know about the nightmare, Lucifer." You saddened. "Why didn't you all talk to me? Do you...do you really think I'm that cruel?"

Your voice broke. You couldn't help it. You cherished them. You thought you told each other everything.

"Of course not, MC." Lucifer assured quickly. For a moment, he forgot his fear from the nightmare. He was blind to see how the actions of him and his brothers would affect you.

"Then why?" You questioned.

Lucifer froze. Why? Simply because of the power you held over them. How easily you could make them succumb. It was something he and his brothers had never faced.

And the reality shook him.

Yet, the longer he looked at your pained expression, the more he could see it was wrong. You were right. They should have talked to you.

"It was quite a scare, I won't lie", Lucifer said gently. "We've never had pacts with such strong connections like this."

You looked to the ground. "Do you want to be released from the pact?"

He just barely caught what you had said. "No!"

You jumped, startled at his sudden outburst. Lucifer cleared his throat. "No, MC. I have no problems with our pact."

"If it cause you guys such distress like this, I don't want to force you guys to remain in these pacts with me", you explained.

And you meant it. You never used your pacts to force the boys to do something. Yes, you did use them to scold them at times. but never just to 'torture' or belittle them.

Then. he gave you a smile. A genuine smile.

"MC...." he paused. "I can't think of anyone more worthy to have a pact with."

One amend down, six more to go.

You paced in front of Mammon's room. Out of all the brother's, he avoided you most. Though he didn't try to even hide it.

Get away from you as fast as possible. That's his thought process right now.

It had been a few hours since you'd made up with Lucifer. He'd mentioned Mammon was taken the situation hardest. Having a soft spot for the second born, you decided to take your shot with him next.

You heard shuffling on the other side of the hall, perking up to see who was coming your way. "Mammon!"

His name fell from your lips before you could stop yourself. Mammon looked up from his D.D.D in surprise. The moment his eyes laid on you, he took off in the other direction.

"Wait! Mammon stop!" The command was said before you could stop yourself. His pact mark on your wrist flickered, forcing Mammon to stop in place.

"Shit, no! Mammon", you said hurrying over in a panic. You moved in front of him and your heart fell to your stomach. The sight was heartbreaking. "I-I promise I didn't mean to."

Mammon stared back at you with wide eyes, a single tear running down his cheek. You reached up, but froze when he flinched away. You stepped back, quickly giving him his space.

"I'm so sorry. You can move."

The pact mark flickered again, just for a moment. releasing Mammon from the command. Though, he didn't move.

Mammon was terrified.

It's no secret he had it worse than the others. Constantly punished and ridiculed. But you were never like that with him. Mammon never had a worry or fear when it came to you.

Until now.

"Mammon, please."

Your voice broke. You could feel your own eyes began to tear up. You hated seeing Mammon like this. Especially because of you. It wasn't him.

"Did I do something, MC?"

The question broke your heart. You shook your head without hesitation. "Of course not! I just want to fix this."

Mammon shifted on his feet. "There's nothin' to fix."

You sighed out. "I know about the nightmare you all had."

Mammon tensed again. The nightmare. He'd had the same one almost every night. He even went to Belphegor for help but to no avail.

It always came back to that terrifying scene.

To that terrifying you.

Cautiously, you reached up to caress his cheek. The touch broke him from his mini trance. He almost melted into your warmth.

Oh how he'd missed this.

"Can I hug you, please?"

You knew Mammon desired physical comfort more than anything. The feel a loving touch. You would ask. You wouldn't force him. You wouldn't just take it. Especially with this situation going on.

He's always adored that trait about you.

Mammon gave a hesitated nod. You smiled.

Progress.

You wasted no time to pull Mammon close, letting him hide his face in your shoulder. He felt so stupid. He was your first. He knew you better than all of his brothers.

He knows you'd never do something so cruel.

"I'm sorry. MC..."

You shook your head. Your hands rubbed his back comfortably, feeling his body slowly begin to relax against yours. "Just continue to trust in me."

Two down, five to go.

~~~~~

obviously this is gonna have to be a three parter. it was much much longer than anticipated 😅 much much thanks to @sparkbeast20 for letting me expand on your idea again 💕 I hope it met your expectations

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer x mc #lucifer x mc #mammon x mc #obey me mammon x mc

[abrcmswrld]

💨🍃…🤠

Howdy Partner..word around these parts is that you’re open for requests..

Just so happens I got one for ya..if ya can handle it(I know you can I’m just playing into the mean cowboy thing)

So..partner, how’s about you write a comforting Eddie fic. He’s in arkham and reader(who he doesn’t know) comes to pay him a visit, giving him comfort through that glass wall between them. Praising him and telling the little cowpoke what a darn good job he did at Savin that there city from corruption..you can add some more details if ya wants to.

Well..it’s about time I head on outta here Partner..

🌅

🐎

Edward Nashton x Follower!Reader

Author’s Note: Emili my love! Sorry this took so long to put out! In the end I feel it isn’t quite as “comfy” or “fluffy” in a fuzzy way towards the reader but rather comfy in a mutual understanding way towards Edward. I decided to take the reader in a more cunning direction rather than a helpless damsel. As always not beta’d so excuse any errors.

Warnings: None really! Just the reader enabling Edward a bit. Gender neutral reader as well!

The hallways of Arkham are grim and dull. Grey concrete walls surround you and the sound of your feet tapping against the floor with each step bounces off the walls and echoes into your ears.

It hadn’t taken much to get in. The guards had denied you multiple times, but it turns out all it takes is enough cash and a pretty smile.

It makes you feel powerful as they walk you into the bleak room. You observe the metal door that separates you and the room you presume Edward Nashton is held in.

You pull your sunglasses from your eyes as the barrier blocking your view is lifted, and there he is. He's doesn't look different from his pictures that had been plastered on the news, but you figure his face is not one that would come to mind when someone saw The Riddler.

He looks right at you, not through you. "Do I know you?" His voice is soft and pleasing to your ears and you feel yourself getting excited. All of those weeks of watching him through the screen, hearing his voice through that modulator, to the moment you heard that he had been arrested, and you were finally here. You can't help but smile at him.

"No. But that's okay. I know you."

He simply stares and cocks his head slightly. A look of apprehension is plastered on his face. Had he never been praised for his work? Perhaps he was just used to living in a world full of liars.

"I sent you letters. I guess they never came through."

"No. They monitor my mail."

You pout slightly. "They never have an issue taking a bribe for an unsupervised visit. And yet they withhold my letters." You scoff. "Pigs."

He perks up and you can’t help but smile. “I have to apologize. I didn’t follow your orders exactly.” He stares back at you with a questioning look. “Apologize?” You smile and nod. “I knew there’d be carnage in the square. At least one of us had to stay behind, ya know. They’ve got you locked up in this hell like some monster.” You sigh. “But I’m not stupid. I can see the real you.”

“I see a man, a deeply,” You take steps toward the glass pane that separates the two of you. “deeply hurt man. Hurt by the corruption and negligence of this city’s officials.” You place a hand on the pane and take in his stare. “A man hurt by someone he thought he could trust.”

You furrow your brows at the thought of your next words. “I’ve been there too. Tossed to the side like trash, meant to eat the scraps like some alley rat while the big names feast.”

He’s breathing heavy. “I see a man who took initiative when nobody else would.” His gaze softens as you give him a kind smile. “The Bat was a mistake, but you were right about everything else. But it’s not over.”

“It’s out of my hands-“ He starts.

“For now it is. You’re smart enough to figure it out. And in the meantime…We will keep in touch.” He looks unsure as he nods. “Gotham needed a jumpstart and you gave it that. I can speak for all of the others who have followed you to this point, we haven’t quit on you.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

You hold a small scrap of paper up to the glass pane, ushering him to write it or remember, whatever he had to do to keep it tucked away. “It’s where you can find me. If I wrong you, take care of it.”

He seems shocked at the gesture and hesitates before placing a hand onto yours, only the thin pane of glass separating the two of you.

“I’ll see you again?”

“You’ll see my again, baby. As long as we can lay low.”

He lets out a small laugh as he smiles up at you through the glass and you can’t help but laugh with him.

#the riddler x reader #dano!riddler x reader #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x you #the riddler #dano!riddler #edward nashton #paul dano #danonation

[bloody-bee-tea]

Kaebedo Week 2023 Day 5 - Confession ~ Artworks

Albedo notices two minutes into his rant about work that Kaeya is not giving him his full attention. It would sting, if Albedo wouldn’t notice as well that it’s not for a lack of interest on Kaeay’s part and more because something else is keeping his attention. 

Something that makes Kaeya tense and his eyes narrow.

So far he hasn’t said anything and he also hasn’t given any indication that he wants Albedo to worry as well, so he simply goes on with his detailed explanation. 

He knows that most of it goes straight over Kaeya’s head–though he usually follows along better than most–and yet even distracted as Kaeya is, he never once gives him the impression of being bored.

Still, Albedo gives him another two minutes before whatever it is that distracts Kaeya wins. And right on the dot, Kaeya gives him a winning smile.

“Albedo, dear, if you would excuse me for just a second,” he interrupts Albedo who doesn’t even manage to agree before Kaeya leaves for the guy two tables to their right.

There’s a telltale warmth in Albedo’s chest as the word dear lingers in his mind but he tries his best to ignore it as he watches Kaeya speak with the other guy. It doesn’t seem to be quite a friendly conversation–Kaeya’s smile is just a little bit too sharp for that–but he frowns when Kaeya slides a piece of paper into his pocket.

He leaves the shocked guy with one last threat it seems before he makes his way back to Albedo, where he sits back down as if nothing at all happened.

“What’s wrong?” Albedo asks, watching as the guy hastily downs his coffee and then scrambles away.

Clearly Kaeya doesn’t suspect a threat because he lets the guy leave without a second look but something must have bothered him nonetheless.

Albedo drags his eyes back to Kaeya when he throws the piece of paper down on the table.

“The creep sketched us.” There’s anger in his voice and Albedo sees how tense he still is.

“Sketched us,” Albedo mumbles as he takes the paper and quickly unfolds it.

True to Kaeya’s words he’s greeted with a sketch of them both over lunch and while it’s not half bad, Albedo immediately hones in on all the ways the guy got Kaeya wrong.

He’s not the easiest subject to draw, Albedo will easily admit that, but even an amateur should try harder with the slope of his shoulder.

Albedo is about to critique the man’s technique when he remembers the anger in Kaeya’s voice.

“You’re angry,” he states the obvious but he trusts Kaeya to understand that it’s also a question.

Albedo doesn’t always understand human emotion and he definitely doesn’t understand Kaeya’s visceral reaction now.

“Of course I’m fucking angry. The creep stared at us during our entire lunch and sketched us without permission. That’s not something you do, Albedo,” Kaeya hisses and stares into the direction the guy ran off to. “Imagine if he had drawn Klee like that, without her permission.”

Albedo doesn’t quite get what’s so upsetting about the first part of Kaeya’s statement but he has to admit that the thought of a stranger staring at Klee for longer periods of time without her knowledge or consent makes him angry as well.

“I see,” he says and makes sure to commit the face to memory, in case he should try something again. “Did he give a reason?” Albedo still can’t help but to ask and Kaeya raises an eyebrow at him.

“Does he need one? Would that make it better in your eyes?” 

“No, I’m just–curious, I guess,” he gives back and decides to ignore the uneasy rolling of his stomach.

“I didn’t think to ask, to be honest,” Kaeya explains. “But it doesn’t matter if they do have a reason.”

That almost makes it sound as if–”Has this happened to you before?”

Albedo tilts his head as he watches how Kaeya rubs a hand over his mouth. He seems uneasy with the topic and Albedo simply wants to understand.

“There are people with kameras, sometimes.” Kaeya doesn’t sound too happy about it and Albedo almost regrets asking. “Taking pictures wherever they go, and printing them. It’s not–I don’t enjoying knowing that these people have my picture at their home.”

Albedo goes cold at that.

“I see.” Something in his voice must have given him away because Kaeya’s eyes snap to him. “Thank you for lunch.”

He doesn’t bother to lie that he has to get back to work, he simply gets up and leaves Kaeya right there at the table. It’s not the nicest thing he has ever done and he’s sure that Kaeya will have questions later, but right now Albedo needs to leave.

His feet don’t carry him back to his workshop, but bring him home instead and that somehow makes it even worse.

Because this is where he keeps all of the sketches he made of Kaeya.

Albedo has a habit of drawing whatever or whoever catches his attention at any given moment and he never thought this to be a problem. Usually he gives the sketches away, anyway and people have thanked him for it but not Kaeya’s.

Sketches of Kaeya he hordes at home like a jealous dragon, hidden away for everyone but him. And clearly betraying Kaeya’s trust in him in the process.

His stomach lurches as he thinks back to the anger in Kaeya’s voice as he talked about the guy, the disgusted way with which he threw the sketch on the table and Albedo’s hands tremble.

He wonders if his lack of understanding of human custom will be enough to explain his faux-pas away and a moment later he chides himself for thinking only about himself when he so clearly violated Kaeya’s boundaries, however unwittingly it might have been.

He’ll have to apologize. He’ll have to compile all the sketches and hand them over to Kaeya and hope that it will be enough. 

There’s a painful feeling in his chest when he imagines Kaeya looking at him with that much anger and it’s almost enough to make him discard his plan. 

But Albedo knows he can’t do that.

He made Kaeya believe they are friends, and he has to own up to his mistake.

Just–maybe not today. Or tomorrow.

He’ll get his feelings back under control first, and then, when he feels settled again, he’ll talk to Kaeya.

And until then he’ll simply have to avoid him.

~*~*~

Albedo manages three days before Kaeya ambushes him in his own home.

He should have expected it, really; a change of habit is always something noteworthy, Kaeya has explained that to him more than once, but still. Albedo thought he had more time.

Shame licks up his spine as Kaeya looks at him and he is no closer than he was three days ago to figuring out how he is going to explain this to Kaeya.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Kaeya drawls out, clearly trying for disinterested as he lounges on Albedo’s couch and he’s not even going to ask how he got in. “There are only ever two reasons for people avoiding me. One,” he holds up a finger and fixes Albedo with his gaze. “I deliberately did something that made them want to avoid me. Two, they are trying to hide something from me.”

“Kaeya,” Albedo starts but of course he doesn’t get very far.

“I know I didn’t do the first one, so that means you’re hiding something from me. And I find that I dislike that.”

He’s going to dislike what Albedo is going to tell him in a second a great deal more but instead of saying that Albedo says “Wait here,” before he leaves to get the compiled sketches.

The folder is much thicker than even Albedo is comfortable with and it doesn’t help that he apparently sketches Kaeya in all kinds of situations and even from memory. He even sat down to paint him on canvas once and Albedo will have to retrieve that painting after their talk.

Kaeya is still sitting right there on the couch when Albedo gets back and the confusion is clearly written on his face when he notices the folder in Albedo’s hands.

“I have a confession to make,” Albedo says and hands Kaeya the compiled artworks. “And I need to apologise.”

Kaeya’s face twitches at that but he takes the folder and he doesn’t hesitate to flip through the sketches. He doesn’t look at all of them–Albedo is ashamed to admit that there are way too many for that–but he must get the gist of the situation.

“What’s the confession?” Kaeya still asks, lingering on a sketch of himself, staring off into the distance with a small smile on his face.

He had actually been watching Klee that day, but Albedo hadn’t bothered to capture that as well.

“I’ve been drawing you,” Albedo says and doesn’t quite understand the look of disappointment that flits over Kaeya’s face. “A lot, as you can see. And I have to apologise for that. I never thought to stop and think how that must make you feel and I can assure you that it will not happen ever again.”

It will be hard for him, because sketching Kaeya is something he does to keep his fingers occupied when his mind wanders and it will be a difficult habit to break.

But he knows that he must, if he ever wants to call Kaeya his friend again.

“Where is this–ah,” Kaeya trails off and closes the folder. “The guy during lunch.”

“You were angry. Angrier than I have ever seen you outside of threats to your loved ones and it was clear his stare had made you uncomfortable. I failed to realize how I must have made you feel. And I truly can’t apologize enough for it.”

Kaeya puts the folder to the side before he crosses his legs and leans back against the couch. 

“You think your gaze makes me uncomfortable.”

It’s not a question but it makes even less sense as a statement and so Albedo has to ask for clarification.

“Doesn’t it?”

“Your gaze is–familiar,” he says and Albedo gets the distinct impression that it’s not quite what he was going for. 

“So that’s why you’ve never noticed,” he mutters and he guesses it must make sense. 

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Kaeya gives back and just like that, Albedo is at a loss again.

“But you’ve never said something! Why would you not say something when it makes you uncomfortable?”

“I never said your gaze makes me uncomfortable, though,” Kaeya says and leans forward, pinning Albedo with his gaze. “You’re so smart. Draw some conclusions from that.”

Albedo finds it hard to think with Kaeya looking at him like that and so he turns around. 

“There’s still a painting I need to get,” he mutters and almost flees his own living-room. He can feel Kaeya’s gaze follow him all the time and while the knowledge that Kaeya is watching him makes his stomach turn it also feels strangely–comforting. Familiar, just like Kaeya said, though it's not quite fitting.

Albedo doesn’t immediately make for his drawing room, because he feels unsteady enough on his legs that he has to lean against the wall and take a few deep breaths first and he takes that time to mull over Kaeya’s words.

He wasn’t upset over the sketches or Albedo’s confession. He knows Albedo has been watching him. He was visibly upset that the other guy watched him.

It’s not a lot to go on, but Albedo is still reasonably sure that the correct conclusion is that Kaeya doesn’t mind it because it’s him.

That Albedo is special somehow.

The thought makes his cheeks go hot and Albedo wasn’t even aware they could do that. 

There is one other thing that bothers him though, and that is the look of disappointment that so briefly passed over Kaeya’s face. Albedo thinks about that, and the fact that he even has a folder as thick as he does with nothing but pictures of Kaeya and the funny way his chest and stomach sometimes feel when he is together with Kaeya. All of that brings him to the realization that maybe there’s not only something to learn about Kaeya, but about himself as well.

And if Albedo is right about this then–

He pushes himself off the wall and marches right back into the living-room.

“Where’s my painting?” Kaeya asks and the casual possessiveness of his words makes Albedo tremble.

“I have another confession to make,” he declares and going by the satisfied smirk on Kaeya’s face he knows exactly where this is going. And he’s not doing anything to stop Albedo and he’s not leaving either and that tells Albedo all he needs to know.

It makes it easier to say it, knowing Kaeya will not break his heart.

“I’m in love with you.”

It feels strange to say, because Albedo has never given much thought to feelings like love, but it also feels right in a way he can hardly put into words.

“Took you long enough,” Kaeya mutters under his breath and then gets up to pull Albedo into a hug. 

Albedo freezes for a moment, not quite used to this much physical contact but when Kaeya simply holds him, he eventually melts into the embrace.

“In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m in love with you, too,” Albedo hears him mumble into his hair and even though Albedo had figured it out, it’s still more than nice to hear it as well.

“Is this blanket permission to draw you whenever I feel like it?” Albedo can’t help but to ask when his eyes fall on the folder on the couch and he feels Kaeya chuckle.

“You already had that, sunshine,” Kaeya gives back, pressing a kiss to Albedo’s hair.

It puts the tiny nagging voice in Albedo’s mind to rest and he presses closer to Kaeya in answer. 

Albedo can already tell that his previous aversion to physical contact might change but he’s pretty sure that one thing is not going to change.

How often he draws Kaeya.

He’ll probably need another folder and he might even take Kaeya to buy it. Now that he's sure that he won't mind this at all.

#bt writes #kaebedo #kaebedoweek2023 #albedo #kaeya #genshin impact #getting together #love confessions #misunderstandings #hurt/comfort

[gutsheapofrawiron]

[GRIFFGUTS FANFIC] Only When The Crow Cried Did I See Why: Chapter 2

Exhaustion has killed my words, crumbling them as they are born in my mind just so I’ve been silenced a long time ago

Summary:

Griffith tries to get out and meets unexpected company. Casca is a girlboss, and Guts is struggling in more ways than one (sorry baby).

Read on AO3 or continue reading below

Griffith returned when night had fully taken hold, having allowed himself more time than what would probably be just short enough to go unnoticed. Curious glances were sent his way by the members of his band, but they were shy and quick; attempts to gain information without overstepping. A gnawing feeling settled in his stomach as he tried to make lasting eye contact with any of them, but failed every time. He was sure he looked alright, not like someone who just pathetically ran away and hid in the forest to have a breakdown.

The warm light of the fires lit all around helped to soothe his mood, and as he approached the heart of the camp, he saw Casca, the centre of the attention of the men as she talked to them, most likely telling them the general details of their plans for the coming days. Griffith felt the pang of guilt as he realised she’d been a much better leader than him these last few days, and pushed it down as he walked up to her. Her head quickly turned in his direction as he came closer and he saw her eyes widen slightly as her gaze landed on him, before she jumped up and hurried towards him.

She saw through his façade, he knew.

The men’s eyes followed her movement towards Griffith and remained locked onto the two of them when she stopped in front of him.

“I apologise for my absence, Casca.”

She waved it away. “Oh, don’t worry about it, really. I’m sure it must’ve been exhausting to constantly be in charge, definitely lately.”

Griffith gave her a tight smile. Evading her gaze, he lowered his voice when he spoke next, as to not be overheard. This was a difficult task, as his return after his brief leave had made him the target of the men their understimulated minds’ attention in this slow night.

“Would you be able to tell me…where Guts is?”

He felt his resolve weaken somewhere in the middle of asking the question, causing him to hesitate. How unlike himself.

Casca’s gaze had something of concern and something of unreadability as she frowned slightly.

“He’s retired to his tent. Why?”

Internally, Griffith felt himself reaching for that information to use as an excuse not to go to Guts. He straightened. “Nothing worthy of your concern, don’t worry. I was simply wondering.”

He was about to change the subject to something more pragmatic as Casca lightly grazed his upper arm with her hand, her frown still very much present.

“Griffith-” The sound of his name was pushed out of her, not without struggle. Caught in the middle of trying to physically turn away, he turned back to look at her, questioning.

She looked him in the eyes with a certain gravity, impossible to dismiss.

“Could I…speak to you? Somewhere more private?”

This was the wrong way to word it. Though, there really would be no better way to do so. The men in their vicinity immediately broke into not so soft murmured conversations amongst each other, no doubt completely misunderstanding Casca’s intentions and the situation as a whole. On the outside, Griffith chose to ignore them. On the inside, the gnawing feeling returned with renewed fervour.

“Very well,” he said, turning slightly into the direction opposite to the one whence he came from, motioning for Casca to follow him, waiting for her answer. She nodded and they went on their way, leaving the men who were busy inventing new, albeit smothered, whistling tunes in their wake.

As they reached a part of the camp Griffith deemed decently deserted, he stopped and turned to her, idly wondering what this would be about. She looked down at the trodden grass beneath her feet, the blades black and dull in the weak moonlight.

“What did you want to discuss?” Griffith encouraged her to speak. He felt exhaustion creep up his body. She looked up at him, then, silent determination painted across her features.

“What did you talk about with Guts?”

Sisyphus dropped his rock inside Griffith’s stomach. He could not catch the surprise quick enough, flashing in his eyes as he felt it tumble down. Casca caught him in a rare moment of unarm, but he recovered swiftly as he felt distrust creep up the hill within instead.

“What did he tell you?” he retorted with a question, knowing Casca wouldn't appreciate it, but at the moment he could not care less.

Casca’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing, so I am asking you.” Her hands went to her hips as she spoke. Suspicion was hers now, too. Griffith let out a deep breath, breaking eye contact to form a reply. “We had a disagreement. It is of no matter, Casca.”

“A disagreement,” Casca repeated, looking at him with an unreadable expression. Griffith kept himself steeled as Casca stayed silent for a while, her eyes roaming his face for more information. After a little while, she sighed and dropped her hands to her sides as she looked away. “I hope you won’t feel the need to lie to me more often after this, Griffith, but this is not good. Not for my trust in you, nor that of the Band, you know? I’ll let it slide for now, but please know, you can trust me. Have I not followed you all this time?”

Griffith looked down at her and felt a little nostalgic. How long had it been now, since he saved her from her presumed fate? She’d grown into a strong woman now, a more than competent leader, as he was reminded just earlier this evening. Before, she would in no universe have confronted him on matters such as these, or at least not with such resolve. And now he was being held responsible for his actions by her. Her growth was admirable, sure, but he had long felt irritation take hold as she had started getting involved in his affairs with Guts. He forced a little smile to assure her. “You’ve been incredibly loyal, Casca, and for that I thank you. This problem will simply resolve itself soon enough, which is why I won’t bother you with it, is all.” Casca returned his smile at that, her gaze soft. This time, as it always had done before, her admiration of him won over her healthy scepticism, but he knew that he would not be able to rely on this to be fact in the future. She’d become too strong, too much of her own person for this to persist.

She stepped aside, clearing the way to the tents of the higher ranking members, where she, he and Griffith each had their individual tents. He nodded in gratitude and walked past, feeling her eyes digging into his back as he weaved his way through the tents towards Guts’. Arriving at the tarp which separated him and Guts’ (presumably) sleeping form, he paused, considering whether he should call out first or just peek inside in askance. Standing beside the tent’s canvas, he tried to listen for the steady rhythm of breathing one would normally hear when someone was deep asleep, when a peculiar sound shook him from uncharacteristic insecurity, coming from behind the tarp. It took a moment for Griffith’s mind to wordlessly register it as fearful whimpering and irregular breathing. Concern put its talons into his heart, and he stepped inside.

“Guts?”

•

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking, or rather, limping, but he knew that his body, now returned to its state sometime before his metamorphosis, was spent. He’d quickly found out that the tendons of his legs were luckily not cut, and that he still possessed his tongue, estimating this version of his body to be from about the first couple of months of his stay down in the depths of the tower. He’d been following the line of the wine-faced sea, where the water met the shore of gore and innards, yet no exit nor end to this hell was in sight. His throat was dry and rough, and his eyes felt as heavy as the rest of his body as he unwillingly sat down, feeling bones dig into his skin underneath him. He sat facing the sea, mulling over his options.

“Nothing but a cage.” The voice was light and easy.

Griffith turned his head slowly to the sound, his surprise unmasked as he looked at the person with wide eyes. “What?” His throat was far too dry for conversation, but he managed.

“A dream. In the end, it’s nothing but a cage.”

Griffith scoffed at the child sitting next to him, turning his head away from them.

“You know nothing.”

The child’s eyes stayed trained on his face, wide yet neutral. “I know all. It’s engraved in our bones.”

Griffith looked at his hands, pointedly avoiding focusing his gaze on the corpses underneath them.

The child leaned in. “You still want him. Now that you’ve had a taste of what your dream could give you, you know which one you’d rather have, don’t you?”

A silence fell, the only sound being that of the waves of blood red water lapping at the shore of the land made of human –and animal– matter.

“It’s too late.”

From the corner of his eye he saw the child tilt their head. “It is?”

“You don’t understand the gravity of this situation. I can’t be absolved.”

The child directed their gaze to their feet, legs stretched out in front of them. “Maybe not.”

They wiggled their toes before continuing. “Does it matter?”

His sudden awareness of the deep breath that left him was surprising. “It matters most.”

Their face turned once again to look at Griffith’s.“Does it matter most to him?”

Griffith’s mouth felt bitter. He shifted a little to look down at the child. Their bright eyes reminded him of something to switch the subject to.

“Don’t you want your mother?”

The child hummed. “I do, but she’s always where he is, too. So, I think solving your issue would not be going out of my way much.”

Griffith was silent for a little while, thinking. “What are you? You’re too precocious.”

“I don’t think I’m anything out of the ordinary. Not for our world.”

Griffith knew what he meant, yet in his current form he felt as human as he did before the sacrifice. His limbs were as burdensome as they were in that puddle; there was no way this was his rebirthed body.

“I think he’ll kill me.” The admission’s touch felt cold on his tongue.

“He wants to.”

At the swift reply Griffith looked to the child.

“How do you know?”

They looked at him from the corner of their eye. “I’ve visited. His soul is easy to read, if I go beyond the flesh. Which I did.” The last part was added with a childly lilt. One of the rare showances of youth in the child’s behaviour, Griffith noted.

Griffith fiddled with a lock of his hair, regarding the curve, softer than before he awoke here.

“I have no say. If he wants me gone and that gives him closure, let it be.”

“I have say,” the child said, tone strong.

Griffith looked over a couple of blood-stained strands in his hand. “...Is there a way for me to return your body to you?”

“It is mine?” The question was voiced in a way that did not imply the child did not know the body was theirs. They did.

“Is there a way for me to…go, without affecting you negatively?” Griffith was a good diplomat, yet it took effort to form the words.

“I don’t know. You’re the adult here.” The child put their hands down behind them and leaned back, looking up at the sky.

“Don’t pull that now. You know as much, if not more, about life than I do.”

The child dismissed that with a hum, before continuing. “You are focusing on the wrong thing. What I meant is that he wants to kill you. Not that he will.”

Griffith pulled blood from his hair before whipping his head around to face the child again at that.

“Surely he will.” Anger laced his tone.

“How are you certain? You have not been around him for how long?” The child evidently bore Casca’s unrelenting character.

Guilt swirled in his gut as Griffith swallowed, going back to pulling dried blood from his ends.

“I don’t know. Time passes differently.”

“Well,” the child got up, though even standing straight they did not tower over Griffith by much. “I know. I was there just the other day. Rage can only keep a man going for so long. He won’t kill you. Might attack, though. Come,” they reached out their tiny hand.

“That does not sound reassuring.” Despite his doubt, Griffith took it, though still relying on most of his own remaining strength to get up. The child adjusted their hand, but did not let go of Griffith as they looked out in front of them, scanning the landscape. “It does not have to be with how you ideally would love to die at his hands, I think. I won’t let you, though. I’m too young to die in such a purposeless fight.”

Griffith grimaced. “Ignoring the logistics of you trying to go up against a full-grown adult who mauled legions of soldiers for a living, where are we going?”

The child’s eyes were blank as they simply replied, “we’re leaving.”

•

The tent was dark inside, but with the meagre amount of light spilling from the torches outside Griffith managed to find the lamp inside and light it. Guts was heaving and bathed in a pool of his own sweat, yet his eyes were still closed as he tossed on the pallet. Griffith sat on the edge, outside of the range of his thrashing legs as he put his hands on Guts’ shoulders with reasonable pressure, trying to wake him. “Guts, wake up. You’re having a nightmare,” Griffith frowned as he looked down at him, shaking his shoulders slightly. A fist swung in the direction of his face, but with his own hands preoccupied he was not quick enough to dodge entirely, its contact with his cheekbone harsh and unforgiving as he felt himself cant to the right, forced by the impact.

The very real collision of his fist with something very solid seemed to finally awaken Guts, and he shot up, confused as to what happened. His eyes focused on the hunched figure sitting by the bedside, hand held up to their cheek.

“Griffith?” he asked, as he managed to discern the long, wavy hair in the dimly lit space. An eye peeked from behind the curtain of ruffled hair to look at him, surprise evident. “Guts,” he said as he dropped his hand to face him fully. The angry red-purple blooming on his cheek was hard to miss, even in weak lamplight. “Wh-what happened?” he blurted, hands moving to help, but stopping awkwardly mid-air. Griffith’s gaze slid to his hands, but he said nothing of it. “You were having a nightmare,” he said simply. Guts cussed. “Fuck, fuck, I hit you? Shit, I’m sorry, Griffith. You have- We have to treat it.” His hands flew hurriedly back and forth between the space in front of Griffith’s injury and the place where he presumably kept his first aid equipment. Griffith kept his face neutral as he caught one of Guts’ arms mid-air, making him still as he looked at Griffith in surprise.

“No need. I’ll take care of it later.” Guts’ eyes evaded his as he gathered himself, but Griffith’s gaze was unyielding, his hand still clamped around Guts' arm. “You’d better not wait. It’ll be worse if you leave it now, Griffith.” He gently shook off his hand and moved to sit in front of the trunk to the side of the bed, rummaging inside before pulling out a rag. Griffith looked at him quietly.

“Does it happen often?”

Guts paused. “What do you mean?” He did not turn his head to look at him.

“The nightmares. Is it nightly?”

Guts’ movements resumed, albeit reluctantly, as he took out a little box along with the rag, before turning to the carafe with cool water and wetting the rag.

“I don’t keep track,” he said after a while. He turned back to Griffith then, but his eyes were trained on the cloth in his hands until the very last moment, when it became necessary to at least look at what he was doing as he lifted the damp rag to Griffith’s cheek.

“You’re lying,” Griffith said as he looked up at Guts’ face, internally mapping all of the scars marring his face. Guts swallowed. He made a poor liar. Griffith was glad he had kept Guts out of diplomatic affairs with the nobles as much as possible; it would have only made him more self-conscious about his skills within the social department.

“What do you dream of?” he asked as he took over holding the rag to his face while Guts got a vial containing a questionable-looking substance from the box. He put some of the gel-like fluid on his index and middle finger before moving back to apply it to the bruise, nudging Griffith to keep the cloth off for a little. His eyes looked distant as he replied.

“The past, mainly.”

He finished applying the gel and Griffith went to put the rag down before Guts stopped him.

“You have to continue cooling it to prevent more swelling.” He put the vial back in the box and went back to the chest to put everything back, closing the trunk’s lid as Griffith begrudgingly went back to holding the cloth to his face. Guts stood still in front of the trunk, back facing Griffith, seemingly thinking about what to do as he clenched and unclenched his hands. Griffith eyed him in silence.

“Why are you here?”

It came out along with a sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly. A short silence fell. Griffith’s gaze did not stray from Guts’ back.

“I wanted to apologise.”

Guts turned, surprised. Griffith dropped his hand with the rag and stood up, standing opposite him.

“I’m sorry for what I said today. It is not my business what you and Casca do outside of our jobs, nor how your relationship develops.”

He stepped forward, looking up slightly. “In fact, I suppose your affections for each other might prove more productive in communication during work, so I really shouldn’t hinder it further.”

Guts' eyes were still wide as he looked at Griffith. Griffith squinted his eyes before turning toward the tent’s exit, holding the damp rag back up to his cheek. “I’ll see if we can get you something for your sleep issues. I was thinking rhodiola, if it’s available.”

He opened the flap and was about to walk out when Guts spoke. “Griffith,” he said as he took half a step towards him, hesitant. Griffith turned back and for once Guts did not evade eye contact since they spoke up on the hill. “Thank you,” he said, seeming just as startled by his own candour as Griffith. Griffith stood there for a moment, before giving him a small smile, letting the tarp drop behind him as he turned away again and walked off, the cloth still pressed to his face.

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#berserk #griffguts #fanfic #cross posted on ao3 #or like the reverse of that #guts/griffith #berserk fanfiction #GHORI Original #Only When The Crow Cried #im reposting these gradually but i promise im working on the new chapter ive nearly got through 2k of the toughest things to write for it #should be out soon enough

[rebrandedstoryline]

Rebranded - 6 - A Lucky Find

Moon makes a pleasant and surprising discovery! But Sun is hesitant.

Word Count: 1331

“I’ve found us a place to stay!” Moon uttered upon returning from his nightly exploration, moving to sit beside his rather surprised looking twin.

“Really?” Sun inquired in turn, staring at the other with a set of wide, almost hopeful eyes.

“Yes, Sun. I’ve found the ideal place.” Moon replied, shifting to lean against his brother as he prepared to go about his explanation. “Far away from any roads. I can’t detect vehicles as they pass by, so it should be impossible for anyone to spot us if we maintain that distance. The property has a lot of plants growing there. There are fruit trees! We’ll be able to look forward to fuel that tastes better than wood and leaves. At least for part of the year. The house on the property is a bit smaller than what we’re used to, but it's secure. Nothing about it is rotting. We won’t have to worry about lightning when it rains. And best of all -” Moon rambled on a bit, before craning his robotic neck and head about in a seemingly unnatural way so that he could look his twin in the eye. “ - there’s still power! So you don’t have to eat anything nasty if you don’t want to.” He stated, coming to what was perceived as the best thing about property that he had found.

However, that last tidbit of information had made Sun uneasy.

“Power?... Moony, are you sure the house is empty? We’ve made that mistake before...” Sun murmured in turn. The property in question sounded too good to be true. The fact that there was still power there implied that someone was providing that power.

Houses that were not in use did not simply stay connected to the grid.

“See, I worried about that too.” Moon stated, shifting once more to sit in a more natural looking position. “But the house is empty. I’ve studied it closely for two weeks now. No people have come by to check up on it. I snuck in last night to see for myself if there was any evidence of people, just to be safe. But it was empty. The house looks abandoned. There’s dishware in the cupboards, but no food at all. Not in the fridge or in the pantry. Some electronics were left behind. Some of the rooms have beds and some of the closets still have supplies tucked away inside them. No one has been there for a long time, Sun. Probably even before I began to watch the house. Everything is covered in dust. The only footprints there are mine. It is the ideal home.” He explained, going into clear detail of all the steps that had been taken to assure that this particular property was indeed empty.

Sun listened to every detail carefully. From the way it sounded, the house did seem to be abandoned. Surely people wouldn’t just leave their home behind for so long if they planned on coming back. Moon would have at least been able to find non-perishable food in the pantry if anyone ever planned to come back. He could think of no reason to believe that the house was still inhabited.

Especially if the house had multiple beds.

Multiple beds implied that multiple people once lived there. One person having to be away for a long period of time was believable. He could rationalize a thousand excuses in his head for why that might happen.

The number of excuses went down dramatically with the addition of extra people. An entire family would not vacate a house for so long. Not with intentions to return. He could imagine no explanation behind such behavior.

“How many beds?...” Sun inquired, wanting to be absolutely sure of his logic. If there were more than two beds, then that meant at least three people. As many as four, if one of the beds was shared by a husband and wife. A family of that many people would not leave their home for so long. Children had to attend school.

“Three beds.” Moon stated, holding up a hand to further display his answer. He held up three fingers. His head twisted back around to sit more naturally upon his neck. “One of the rooms has a bed large enough for two adults. The beds in the other rooms are smaller.” He explained, describing the beds in detail. “I inspected the contents of the closets. There are adult and children’s clothes left inside. All of the clothes have been tucked away in plastic cases. I don’t know what the intentions were, but obviously their plans have fallen through. We both know that children cannot be away from home for such a long time.” He explained, going into further detail of what he had found.

More and more his explanation began to make some sort of sense. The mystery behind the power was its own dilemma; but neither animatronic could convince themselves that someone had intention of returning to the property.

“I... Well, they must have moved, then?” Sun muttered, still seemingly attempting to wrap his mind around what he had been told. Still trying to think of some explanation.

“Surely we can’t be the only sort to want to leave behind a home so... Abruptly.” Moon uttered, speaking with a note of tension in his voice. “Perhaps there were plans to return. But those plans have clearly fallen through. I don’t know why the house still has power, but I’m sure there’s some sort of explanation. There are some unusual black panels built upon the roof. I have an idea about what they’re used for. ‘Solar Power’. I remember management once discussing plans to get it installed at the Pizza Plex. Mayhaps that’s what’s keeping the power on at the house. Solar power.” He uttered, attempting to come up with some sort of explanation behind why the property still had power. “I’m not sure. The power will either stay on, or it will eventually go out. Either way, there’s plenty of things to consume to keep our systems running.” Moon explained, twisting his body around to grasp his brother by the shoulder in an attempt to assure him.

“Well... Having a proper place to stay does sound nice…” Sun remarked, albeit hesitantly. “So does the fruit... Seeing as the house seems to be abandoned, I don’t see the harm in moving in. We can always leave if someone turns up.” Sun added, reaching to hold the hand that Moon had placed upon his shoulder. A sort of unsure smile spread across his features. He was hopeful. The idea of a proper shelter was a nice one.

Still, he was hesitant to fully believe that they were in the clear. There was always the risk that someone would come looking to reclaim their abandoned home. Though, that would probably be a risk that followed them no matter where they decided to stay.

“That’s right~! If push comes to shove, then we can always leave. There’s bound to be somewhere for us to stay.” Moon responded, further attempting to reassure his twin. “For now, the house I found seems like our best option. We’ll head out tonight. So long as the house is still empty, we can make ourselves at home. I’ll even give you a tour! We can make a game of it.” He stated, allowing a note of excitement to creep into his voice as he spoke. A rare display of eagerness which had not been seen for years.

That alone provided Sun with what little encouragement he still needed to trust that their future was secure. If Moon was willing to genuinely believe that this property could be their Eden, then Sun was also willing to believe it.

“Tonight it is, then~” Sun replied, before closing his eyes as he began to lean against his twin. The night promised to be exciting. It would be best to conserve some power before setting out to claim their new home.

#Rebranded #Rebranded AU #Rebranded Storyline #FNAF #fnaf:sb #FNAF AU #FNAF Security Breach #Sundrop #Moondrop #Sun #Moon #Daycare Attendant

[3amsnek]

Let Virgil say fuck 2k21 vindicated (As I said on Instagram: I offer 7 live celebratory shrimp to anyone who guesses which video game I took color inspo from on this (you do not get to keep them though they’re my Children))

Click for better quality

Reblogs > likes

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanart #ts fanart #ts virgil #ts sides #ts art #virgil sanders #Thomas sanders #sanders sides virgil #virgil sanders fanart #my art? #oops I meant to post this when I made it like the day after the video came out but. here we are #anyways hi howdy I’m actually very pleased with how this came out? #excuse the questionable hands I simply Did Not Want to make them any more detailed because. I just Didn’t #but the colors were fun! #I’ve got another similar color thjng in the drafts as well hopefully I’ll remember to post that in a more timely y #manner #excellent typing skills me

[espritmuse]

okayyyy but dom bully mikasa who starts being mean to you when you get too close to eren and tells you you’re acting like such a slut around him until one day she eventually fucks you stupid calling you the same names and making you tell her your hers

—𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄—

⌕ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Mikasa Ackerman x Reader

⌕ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: semi public sex (school bathrooms), fingering, cunnilingus, meankasa and possessive Mikasa, a bit of degradation. [1.3 words.]

⌕ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: The beginning is just for a bit of context, you can just go right to the smut if ur too horny, it’s the best moment I guess…. (Yeah it is)

— 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑 —

Mikasa knew very well where this little game was going. Since the very beginning. But can you blame her for playing with you like she did? it was so fun, seeing you getting all flustered, seeing your eyes avoiding hers when you both met in the school corridors.

A boy. A stupid and meaningless boy. It was the problem, or rather, her excuse for treating you like she always does. Accidents, like she calls them in front of the headteacher when she is, once again, sent to his office.

But the line was definitely crossed last Saturday night, when you went to her boyfriend’s birthday party. Eren Yeager. It took you some time, perhaps too much time to finally realise and understand that jealousy was the cause of all of your mistreatment.

Daggers piercing your skin. That’s what her dark black eyes would’ve thrown if they could when her boyfriend shared his cup of alcohol with you. You weren’t that close to him, you weren’t even really his friend, but that was already too much, apparently. Since then, insults and humiliations got worse, so much worse.

“Slut.” This is what you could read on the body of your car, written in red paint. Eyes wide and mouth agape, you tried to use the sleeve of your shirt to wash the paint out, without any success. You looked stupid, like this, on the parking lot; and she didn’t miss a second of it.

3PM in the school restroom. That was the time and the place you were supposed to meet her at. You accepted, for some unknown reason, after reading it on the piece of paper she had left on your car. Curiosity, as it may be.

And there she was. Awaiting for you, her back pressed on the white wall, an unamused expression on her face. Unamused, until she heard your footsteps walking down to her.

Black nail polish. It was what her nails were painted with when she slowly slid them down your pants, looking straight at you, eyes lost in your own gaze, searching for the slightest glimpse of disapprobation.

Nowhere to be found.

“Don’t make any loud noises. You’ll regret it” She advised spitefully, in an inaudible whisper, her lips almost caressing yours. “Understood?” She then questioned rhetorically.

“Y…yes” you answered uncertainly, still a bit confused of what was just occurring in front of you.

“Good girl. Open your legs.” She announced in a rough voice. An order, that’s what it really sounded like.

You did so, spreading both of your lower members without any difficulties on the bathroom cabinet, sitting in-between the two sinks. Your movement seemed to please her because her lips curved into a small angelic and exited smile. The black haired woman placed both of her hand on each individual knees before pulling you closer to her.

She put one knee on the floor, then the second, before pulling down your underwear swiftly with her fingers. It was delicate, surprisingly. Your eyes weren’t missing a single piece of this moment, amazed and still a bit shocked.

“You’re a dirty girl you know. Couldn’t have guessed that.” She remarked, holding your pink lace lingerie in her pale hand, her curious and mocking gaze all over your underwear. “I wonder if the top is the same.” She started after dropping your pantie on the bare floor, “or let me guess, you’re not even wearing anything under your shirt? Hm?”

“I…”

“Shh…bad girls don’t talk.” She said, standing back up quickly and placing her hand on your face, her thumb caressing your cheek. You couldn’t even tell what was going on in her mind, her movements towards you didn’t give any further details. Was she playing with you? Maybe one of her friends was hiding and recording all of that? You didn’t know. You should’ve stopped.

But you didn’t want to.

Mikasa took both sides of your skirt and lifted it a bit, exposing your pubis to her perverted gaze and, suddenly, her mouth was painted with a very big and bright smile, as if this scenery was all the needed, everything she always wanted.

You were now all naked, with the exception of your skirt, that was still covering your ass and not allowing the cold surface to come in contact with your bare skin.

And yeah, she was right, you weren’t wearing anything under your shirt.

Her tongue wandering playfully around your warm core, you mentally begged her to pleasure you. You needed it, so, so much. It's funny when you think about it; you just hated her more than anyone on this earth some minutes ago and now, she’s between your legs at your most vulnerable state.

“Mikasa…. Can you…” you tried to say.

“Quiet.” She replied spitefully, the sound of her voice slightly muffled since her head was buried in your lower body. The raven-haired woman placed both of your legs on her shoulders, your knees bending at the curve of her bones.

It’s her tongue that you felt first, sliding slowly between your fold, trying to find its way to your clit. And it did find, pretty quickly, like it always belonged here. She moved it very slowly, at first, making sure to not hurt you or making you uncomfortable.

You grabbed her black hair, trying to keep your noises for yourself, as she ordered you to some minutes prior. You could feel every little thing, her steady and serene breath on your vulva, her nose brushing slightly against your mons pubis and her right hand stroking gently your right knee.

“See? When you close this fucking mouth…” she said between loud respiration. It seemed like she was talking to herself, actually. But you still listened carefully. “You…you’re fucking delicious…I knew it.” She continued, her words feeling even better on your clit because of the air she was releasing when she was pronouncing them.

Two fingers. Or maybe three, you couldn’t even tell. She started moving them very slowly inside of you, trying to follow the rhythm of her tongue at the same time. It was the same identical pace, you could tell. It felt fantastic.

You couldn’t even stop the noises from escaping your lips, it was impossible. Never in your life you have felt that great, that pleasured.

Her lips and tongue sucking on your clit, you almost didn’t notice when she replaced her mouth with her thumb. She got up from the dirty floor of the bathroom and got closer to you and, as a whisper, planted some soft kisses on your temples and your nose. You glimpsed a change in her behaviour, almost unnoticeable, but it was here.

“Mika….Mikasa…it…” you tried to say once again, but this time she didn’t interrupt you or, not directly; you simply couldn’t talk anymore.

“It feels good doesn’t it baby?” She whispered in your ear sensually. “Tell me how good I make you feel.” She continued.

“V…very very good…” you mumbled.

“Very good? Is that so?” She questioned gently, her knuckles moving back and forth inside your folds. “You’re about to cum, aren’t you sweetheart?” She asked as well after noticing your hands, who tried to grab her shirt uncontrollably.

You nodded quickly. But she stopped.

“You’re mine. Do you understand?” Mikasa said, looking straight in your eyes, a devilish smile on her angelic face.

“Mhh…. Please….why did you…” You protested, not even paying attention to the things she was saying.

“I won’t continue if you don’t say it back.”

“I… I’m y…yours…”

You finally felt her hands moving back in your body, allowing you to properly cum, your head buried in the crook of her neck as she was trying to keep her balance with her free hand, positioned on the mirror behind you.

“Turns out I was right all this time huh?” She started, once out of the bathroom, both of you looking all innocent, as if nothing had happened. “You’re such a slut.” She quietly proceeded in your ear.

You were right too, it was jealousy all of this time.

Thank you a lot for reading <333 reblogs and comments are pretty much welcomed !! Have a nice day!

<- Masterlist

#attack on titan #snk #snk x reader #aot imagine #snk fanfiction #aot #aot headcanons #shingeki no kyojin #Mikasa #Mikasa Ackerman #Mikasa x reader #Mikasa smut #aot smut #mikasa x reader smut #Mikasa aot #mikasa attack on titan #Mikasa snk #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa headcanons #aot fanfic #aot x reader #snk wlw #aot wlw #aot season 4 #aot scenario

[kyberphilosopher]

Androphobia

Requested? No Word Count: 7014

An Android attempts to offer comfort to someone with sleeping trouble.

Androphobia [an·drow·fow·bee·uh]; Fear of or aversion to men. A related concept is misandry, the hatred of men, but not necessarily fear of them.

  * ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

Every woman or female born member of society has experienced an off putting encounter with a man. 

This is not to be entirely blamed on men- not as a whole, no. But individuals, the ones you run into on your way out of the grocery store, the ones who stop you on the streets, they are the ones to blame. Some women have the guts to tell them off. Not an easy task with the given anxiety, but one to take pride in for the capability that comes with it. Some women stay quiet, rush away as fast as their polite feet can take them and hope someone will see the problem. They usually don’t. And some women are outliers, tricking their ways out of interactions with these men one way or another, and to them I take my hat off. 

There are men who are easily construed as monsters, when in the dead of night their silhouettes flash beneath the tallest of streetlights. And there is no reason to not believe them as such right then and there, for as spoken by our Lady Galadriel, “the hearts of men are easily corrupted.” And any look into statistics will back up this fear, any personal experience, any hug that’s gone on just a bit too suspiciously long, any catching of those wandering eyes and it’s easy to feel in your heart that men are not to be trusted. They are not to be confronted, nor left alone with, and they will jump at the opportunity to put down anyone for the validation of other men. 

This is the reality of women and men in 2021. It is the same for several in 2039.

 * ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

You step out of your old, dusty car. Chips of the dark red paint flake away as the raindrops hit it. Above you, the gloomy, warm gray clouds roll against each other in different shades and sizes, high above the skyscrapers and the stress of the world.

Gathering your belongings for the day, you shut the door with your hip and shoulder everything. Then you make your way towards the Police Department, your work, with the heels of your shoes scuffing against the parking lot. 

Across the way, you can see Detective Reid, who rubs his brow while he does his usual slamming of the car door. There’s no point in looking for Hank at this ungodly hour, he’d never be in on time. He’ll probably park his car next to yours as usual- a little too close so it’s hard to squeeze into your own and pull out without causing his vehicle damage, but you never say anything. Not because you are one of the people who feel threatened by Hank as a man- It’s more because you trust Hank as a person, that you’d never bring up the obvious annoyances he places upon you and everyone else. Though, once you had tried. 

(“Cars parked a little close, don’t you think?”

“Shut the hell up.”)

The inside of the Department is bustling. A female Android brushes past you briskly, the others at the front desk all seemingly click clacking away in their own brains. Even months after they’ve gained independence, it’s not uncommon for you to remember how they were before. How still and lifeless they were. And looking back on it, it was awfully sad. They seem busier now, more alive and fast. A strange image, in your mind, but not an unwelcomed one. 

You reach your desk in the lobby, on the right side of the room slightly separated from the officers. You’re a psychologist, so it’s not plausible for you to be seated next to bias. Instead you’re in your own corner, with a rather cluttered desk on the top and empty rows of drawers. You do, however, keep a small japanese cherry blossom tree on the top, courtesy of Hank, though his has all but fully withered at this point. 

And then you’re ready to start your day. Pull out your chair, click your pen and type away reports and notes on the computer to send to the detectives. You don’t have any meetings scheduled today, so there’ll be no need to prepare questions or anything of the sort. Just an easy day. 

And then...

As you and I, the dear reader, have already discussed, finding men to be generally scary is an easy task. And even though you are smart enough to know that it’s simply not possible to truly believe that every man or male presenting individual is terrible, or has done terrible things, or has experienced the desire to do something terrible, there are times where you can’t help the cautiousness. You can’t help the flinch, the distrust, the physical distance, the hand in your pocket grasping for anything to use in self defense. Seeing men like Detective Reid in power, brutish and given guns and easily agitated, certainly doesn’t help.

So when you swish your chair around and come to a stand, your heart drops. You’re looking into the presence of someone tall, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. A man. 

[Sort of.]

“Good morning, Doctor L/N.”

“Connor,” you breathe out, eyes flitting down as you attempt to quiet the thump thump thumping of your heart in your throat. “I- I didn’t-”

“Your heart race has increased. You appear stressed, Doctor L/N.”

He cocks his robotic head to the side, his eyebrows creasing as the literal gears in his head turn. 

“You just startled me,” you admit, grabbing the back of your chair and moving it over as an excuse to create a bit of distance between you and the [possible] threatening force. “What is it, Connor?”

Now, for context, you and he were not considered close. You’ve spoken a few times, though never as friends, only friendly. You remember seeing him last Winter, when he would stand out in the snow outside the station, just gazing up after Hank had already returned to his own home. You remembered how he was different from the other Androids, besides being more advanced to begin with. You’d never said anything about that. It was obvious the only person it would’ve really mattered to, Hank, was already aware of this. And Hank liked Connor. There was no point in interfering. 

In Connor’s eyes, you could really do no wrong. You were smart, intelligent, and diligent in your work. Your job had been threatened by the presence of Androids for years by the time Connor had showed up, but it still appeared that they wouldn’t have done your legacy justice. But despite this, interactions were scarce. You were not friends. You were friendly. And you were always on your guard. 

“I was hoping to hear your thoughts on a case Lieutenant Anderson and I have been working on,” Connor tells you. He’s always made efforts to keep eye contact with people, and the tilt of his head tries to follow your eyeline to do so. But it’s never to any avail. “I apologize for the abruptness, but the thought only occured to me last night and I think it could be a good one.”

“Yeah, sure,” you answer. “I can help with that. I’ll get the details from Hank when he comes in.”

“No need,” the Android quickly assures you. When you look up to him for a brief second, you can see his tongue sway against his bottom lip, creating the softest of imprints. His dark eyes glitter like a beatles in the catch from the light above. 

He produces a light, manilla colored folder lined inside with papers. “I hope you’ll find all the details you need here,” he explains, offering the file to you. 

You take it after a moment, watching his thumb let go in the softest, most normal way possible. 

“Thank you, Doctor L/N,” Connor smiles. “I’ll go get you your morning coffee.”

Connor is like a dog in that way. Not in an insulting way, or an obedient way. In a kind way, in a warm way. With his chocolate eyes and the dimples when he smiles, it’s hard not to want to just believe that he is incapable of hurting anyone or anything. Especially a woman. 

But when you snap back to reality, you can see his male form. His set back shoulders, the robotic strength, the fact that he was programmed to execute any task he so desires. And then you’re right back on edge, wanting to step back from him until you’re sure you can take a full breath. 

It’s easier when he’s taken himself away. You can see him through the glass walls in the kitchen, waiting for the pot to heat up. Doesn’t seem so bad from far away, like most of them do. 

You return to the chair and open the file. At first, your eyes flit to the pictures attached at the top- one of a woman that looks so familiar, another of a man whose angry brows cover his eyes. Then they move to the written report, and something clicks. 

The woman in the picture was an acquaintance from college. The man next to her was the main suspect, and apparently her lover.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

“Morning Doc,” Hank waves tiredly. Then his tone changes slightly. “The fuck are ya doing at my desk for?” 

You push yourself from your lean on the edge of his property anxiously. “I read the report on your case. The Carla Rodriguez one.”

Hank sighs in his classic sigh, tired and grumpy from the morning and being alive. “What about it?” he questions, rummaging through his large bag of prescription pill bottles he’s brought with him every day this year. You suspect Connor has something to do with this.

“I had a... personal relationship with the victim,” you begin, crossing your arms. “I knew her.”

Hank looks at you, bewildered. “You were sleeping with my victim?”

“What? No. What? I- anyway. Carla and I were in college together.”

Hank’s face changes. He leans back with high raised brows in the way he does when processing something. 

“The boyfriend did it. I remember him from back then, I think. Real angry guy.”

“You’re sure you know what you’re talkin about?” Hank questions you, though not in an insulting way. You know it’s anything but that. 

“I’m sure. I can tell you what you need but you know I can’t testify. You won’t be able to use my bias in your report.”

“But the bias is the whole point.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, along with your shoulders. It’s the universal symbol for ‘I don’t know what to tell you’. 

“You talked to Connor about this?”

“Well, no. I- he wanted my opinion but I didn’t tell him this part.”

Hank glances around. “Where's he at anyway?”

You shrug again. You’re thinking about the disposable coffee cup on your desk, left there by Connor a few hours ago, that you’d never brought yourself to touch. 

“Run it by the Android before we do anything,” Hank advises you. “Nutjob’s got this whole system in his head.”

“Yeah,” you mutter as Hank seats himself. “That guy’s weird.”

“Tellin’ me?” Hank groans. 

And the rest of the morning you spend avoiding Connor, thinking at your desk, barely doing your job while you let yourself get lost in thought. You’re not usually like this. You’re very professional at work- you love this job. The thrill, the learning about criminals and their rehabilitation- it makes you feel so tranquil. Complete, even. 

But knowing a victim, knowing the perpetrator, still adapting to the change of Androids looking happy for once, knowing Hank pretends you’re the child he lost- it... it...

You snap your drawer shut. 

What’s wrong with you today? 

You huff out dry air. When you turn ever so slightly, you can see Hank at his desk, eyes already on you with concerned and empathetic brows. Seeing him calms you down a little, at least makes you feel more in the real moment. After a moment, you turn back straight. Then you smooth back your hair, and open a your file again. 

“Doctor L/N?”

You look up slowly, recognizing the boyish, sturdy voice of Connor. Sure enough, there he is. Tall, looking down at you with his warm, brown eyes. They remind you of an excited, loyal dog. Yeah, you think, Connor seems like a dog person. 

And then you catch the sharpness of how broad his shoulders are, how little effort it would take for him to kill you, or pin you down, or come at you in the dark. 

“Can I speak with you candidly, Doctor L/N?”

“You...may,” you say slowly. Connor begins to squat, until he is level with your eyeline, though he’s over on the other side of your desk. From your view, your cherry blossoms pink petals stand out against the paleness of his skin, and then the darkness of his hair. 

“I heard what you said earlier to the Lieutenant,” he begins. 

Truthfully, your eyes flicker around his face, mostly between his lips and his nose and his eyes. They’re all so realistic. Well, obviously that was the point in his creation, but still. They’re so human. Connor is human. Even the way he seems to move his mouth, like his lips are just a little dry, is human. Such a strange detail. Perhaps you would never have noticed it if he hadn’t gotten this close. 

“When?” you question. 

“About 3 hours ago, about the file I gave you.”

Your eyes snap away. Connor’s own eyes follow your movement. 

“I know that this must be difficult for you-”

“Connor,” you sigh, slightly exasperated, but still holding it together. Your eyes close like you can’t bear to look at anything in the present moment right now. You must be trying to pretend that you’re somewhere else. “I’ll be alright. This was in my job description.”

The Android’s eyebrows knit for a split second, confused. “Overseeing the psychology behind your friends death was in your job description?”

And it’s a genuine question from him. That’s what makes it so hard to contain your laughter, no matter how frustrated or overwhelmed you are right now.

“Yeah,” you finally muster with a light chuckle. “Apparently.” Then you’re back to business. “This is my job. I’ll be alright. Thank you for your concern.”

“I just considered that, since you’ve been on the news before, the suspect could know that you’re involved.”

“So?” you ask, slightly more snappy than intended.

“He may know you’re here and subsequently attempt to cause you harm.”

There are two conflicting sides in your brain right now. The first one says: Now think about this. How could he harm you in a place full of cops? It’s not like he knows where you live or anything. How could he even find that out? When they bring him in, he’ll be in custody the whole time. Gavin won’t let him out of those handcuffs. Everything will be just fine. 

And the other part? It shows you a dark, masculine figure, looming over you. Police department or not, he is there. He will cause you grief and harm, do something so terrible to you you could not even fully imagine it enough to anticipate yourself. 

And, despite your better judgement, and to your full awareness, you listen to the second half. 

“Okay, so,” you breathe out. “So what are you saying?”

Connor’s eyes draw to his left in a stutter, his mouth parting as if he’s in consideration. “The Lieutenant and I had talked about... having you stay in a... safer place.”

Your eyebrows pinch together. “What do you mean by that?”

Connor looks so human in this moment. it’s so apparent, and piercing in this exact second. The details in his eyes, slightest of blemishes on his cheekbones. 

Connor leans in, his eyebrows raising. Subconsciously, you lean back ever so slightly in response. 

“We were thinking of taking you to the Lieutenants place.” He sees your eyes widen, getting ready to give a vocal response. “It’s a very safe place,” Connor promises. “I can assure you there are many rooms to your liking.”

You take a minute, looking the Android right in his warm, hopeful, perfectly symmetrical eyes. “Connor, I’m not interested in having this discussion right now.”

“It’s just-”

“Back off,” you snap. It’s assertive. Something you don’t usually do towards masculine presenting beings. 

As soon as you say it, you regret it, however. The person across from you just looks so heartbroken, almost. His big brown eyes, the ones that remind you of a loyal dog, are looking right at you. How could you not feel bad for snapping at Connor? Sweet Connor, who doesn’t take pleasure in hurting people no matter how much you convince yourself he does. 

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

The Carla Rodriguez murder case went on for two more days. Her boyfriend, unfortunately, was not yet found. Hank was working on obtaining a warrant based on your instincts that would give him access to search family members houses for the man. Things were becoming focused. 

Each night you went home, you struggled to sleep. You did in fact, find out that Connor may have been onto something when he suggested the consideration of safety. You indeed stayed up later than usual, using both locks on your dirty apartment door for once. It was hard to fall asleep. Whenever you did, it became all too easy for you to imagine a solid, big, broad shouldered figure standing over the foot of your bed, waiting to strike. 

A man, as usual. 

Ironically, you did feel better when Hank- a man- would come into the station. And then there was Connor, who was somewhere between a puppy and a wolf, half following Hank, half fully capable of loading and discharging a gun. Connor made you feel safe too, but only by association. It felt bad to think about him after the snapping that occurred Thursday, but it could’ve made you feel worse to act unprofessionally in the work place. It was best you try to forget it, and try to forget that Connor has unlimited and invincible memory. 

On Sunday, you and Hank had your weekly scheduled lunch. Nothing fancy, just fast food from a food truck by the train tracks. You’ll both probably get burgers, except Hank will try to add lettuce and some vegan bullshit to convince you he’s sticking to his diet. Of course he will. 

You throw the keys to your locker in the backroom into your desk drawer, and slip it closed. Across the floor, Hank is already ahead of you, tugging on his crappy jacket and somehow standing patiently and grumpily at the same time. 

“Ready to go?” you ask as you approach him, your own jacket in hand. 

“Yeah, just waitin’ for the kid,” Hank replies casually. 

“The kid?”

“I’m ready to go, Lieutenant,” the enthusiastic voice of Connor rings out. He has one of those voices where you can tell when he’s happy and smiling too, and he is in this very moment. 

Nobody ever joins you and Hank. You knew Hank had taken Connor to the truck before, but that was just between them, and this was just between you. An odd decision on Hank’s part to make such a change. 

“Alright,” Hank calls back. Then he turns to you, the smallest of knowing grins on his face. “Ready when you are, Doctor.”

You just nod your head and start walking out to Hank’s car, unsure of what to do think. In the end, you decide to just not think at all. 

“What are you doing this for?” you’d ask Hank as you were walking, when the Android known as Connor was out of earshot. 

“What? You got a problem with Connor?” You shake your head no. “Well good. Because besides bein’ a freak he’s perfectly fine.”

Yep. Thanks, Hank. 

The drive over is silent, besides Hank’s music. You like his taste, but it doesn’t make you feel less tense around Connor. On the other hand, Connor is completely oblivious of said tension. You can see him in the rearview mirror, smiling and looking out the window every now and again. 

Once arriving to the scene, Connor gets out first. You click your seatbelt away, about to pull the handle open when you notice Hank hasn’t moved at all. 

“You coming?”

“Mm,” Hank fake thinks, flipping through his cd cases. “Nah.”

“Well then... well then are you even hungry?”

“I got food back at the office,” he sighs, not even looking up at you. “Indian from last night. Gonna wreak havoc on the ol’ plumbing.”

“Then what did you bring me here for?” you question finally, developing a tension headache from how often you’ve been knitting your brows together lately. 

Hank looks up and over, an almost offended expression on his face. You can see it in his wide old eyes, the angry eyebrows, the slightly opened mouth. 

“Because I’m trying to create a warm and loving social circle.”

“You one time told me die because I ate your jar of pickles!” you cry. “Oh my god- Hank, is this about me and Connor? Is that it? You want us to get along?”

“Yeah, and what if I do?” Hank turns to you fully, putting an angry hand on the steering wheel to clutch something. 

“It doesn’t matter!” you exclaim. “It literally doesn’t matter at all!”

Hank is quiet. You can see his beady, angry eyes on you, his jaw clenching. “Get the fuck outta my car,” he says at last. 

“Gladly,” you mutter. You open the door and slam it closed. 

Looking across the wet, rainy street, you can see Connor looking up at the sign of the food truck known as Chicken Feed innocently. You breathe out, feeling the heat from the previous ‘discussion’ beginning to melt away. 

Okay, Y/N, you tell yourself. Just go talk to him. 

You begin your walk across the street, hearing the light tapping of the rain hitting the asphalt all around you. His back is getting closer and closer. You still have a chance to turn around. 

“Hey, Connor,” you say lightly. 

“Hello, Doctor L/N,” Connor greets in return warmly. 

“Whatcha... thinking about eating, there?” you ask, both of you knowing damn well Androids can’t eat. 

“I’m not sure,” he admits. Then he shrugs, and very genuinely says, “I guess I could have some french fries.”

“Alright. I’ll get you some.”

And you do. And you feel so stupid while ordering it. The guy in charge, Gary, looks at you with an ‘are you sure?’ expression on his face, but you only continue with the order, confirming that, yes, you are sure. Then you and Connor sit next to each other in silence, waiting for your food to be ready. You pretend to be very interested in a stain on one of the back menus for about three straight minutes. 

“Here you go,” Gary hands you the food. You take the bags and speed off immediately to an umbrella by the place. Even though you’re essentially powerwalking at about 6 miles per hour, it doesn’t feel fast enough in the moment. Connor is right there beside you the whole time. 

“Here’s your fries,” you mutter, pushing the bowl towards him. 

“Thank you,” he says, formally. Then Connor just stares down into the bowl. 

“I appreciate you paying for this meal, Doctor L/N,” Connor decides to say after another moment. When you look up, you can see he’s leaning down ever so slightly so that he’s closer to your height, and making pretty sturdy eye contact. It’s moments like this that you think you’re talking to Connor’s social programming, and probably not him naturally. 

“You don’t have to call me Doctor, Connor,” you breathe. “We’re not at work right now.”

“I apologize. How would you like me to address you then?”

“Well... how would you like to address me?”

Connor thinks for a moment. You can tell because his led is switching between yellow and white. Then the beginning of his eyebrows start twitching, along with the corners of his mouth, just like a human would when they have several thoughts on the tip of their tongue but none of them seem just right. It’s cute when he does it. 

“You can just call me Y/N,” you rush out in an attempt to save Connor from quite possibly exploding. 

He does the twitching once more, then looks up to the top of the umbrella without moving his head. “And, is this outside of the workplace or in it as well?”

“What would you prefer?”

His led goes yellow again. He looks back to you. “That depends whether or not you consider us friends, Doctor L/N.”

This takes you back. You’re silent, stunned, looking at him with slightly widened eyes for a few seconds- maybe a whole minute- before you make the decision to look at your burger and change the subject. 

“How’s been adjusting to life as a free man?” you ask, unwrapping the foil from your warm food. 

Connor adapts to the subject change after a few seconds, and you know that he’s seen right through you. “It’s strange,” he tells you, deep in thought, but sincere. “But, people seem happy.”

“Are you happy?” you prompt further, biting a big bite into the meat. 

Connor thinks again. He thinks a lot. “Yes,” he decides. “I suppose I feel alive,” he admits. It sounds like a confession, and when he turns his head to look over to you, he sees your eyes are already on him. “Are you happy?”

“Am I happy?” you repeat in question. “I... guess I am, overall.”

“Do you enjoy working as a criminal and forensic expert?”

Now it’s your turn to think. You swallow down your bite. “Yeah, I think so. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time. And now I have it, and I’m comfortable and all. So yes... And you? As a detective?” You bite into the burger again.

“Well, it is what I was created for,” Connor tells you, with an almost charismatic, joking tone. It looks like he’s smiling a little, too. Cute. “I think so. Working with Lieutenant Anderson has gotten better.”

“God, I remember when you first came in,” you roll your eyes. “Hank was all in a mood. One of the grouchiest days for him. But he likes you now.”

Connor watches you pull the burger away from your face. He’s thinking again, but also admiring your features from up close. He doesn’t usually get to do this with you. The proof is in the lack of response to the ‘would you consider us friends?’ question. 

“You know,” Connor says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice for the millionth time. “I really admire how talented you are in your line of work.”

You feel heat in not just your cheeks, but in the rest of your face as well, as if you have a very sudden fever. You decide to keep your face down, trying to naturally make it not look like you’re using your burger as a shield. “Thank you,” you respond. 

The heat begins to subside, so you look back up to him. “I admire your...” and you can’t finish the sentence. Not because you can’t think of anything to admire. You know you had a good one in mind to say to him. But when you look up at his boyish face, with the innocent smile and the comforting eyes and the most human details in his skin, you lose your train of thought. 

It seems too late and rude to continue by the time you regain it, so you just decide to leave it and eat your burger as quickly as possible. 

“Are you done with your fries?” you ask, as Connor looks down at the untouched basket.

“Yes, thank you.”

You don’t even look into the waste of 2 dollars as you speed walk to the trash can and dump it full of everything. Then you hop across the street, Connor right behind you.

Getting back into Hank’s car makes you roll your eyes. It’s not that you’re mad with Connor anymore so much- not that you would describe the feeling as mad in the first place. You’re not even sure you’re ‘mad’ at Hank so much anymore. It’s more like you’re in the area that you previously had a yelling match in, so all that energy is still there. So stupid.

“Hey, you two,” Hank greets, though to you it sounds condescending.

“Hello,” Connor chirps back.

You just shoot Hank a glare.

“How was lunch?” The old man prompts, holding your eye contact knowingly the entire time.

“It was fine,” you tell him.

“Fine?”

“Yeah,” you practically seethe. “Just fine.”

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

You stay in your house for another two days. Sleeping has become far more difficult, though you’d never openly admit it. Hank can see it in your face. There’s dark circles under your eyes, far more noticeable than before. Your eyes are dragging themselves down, along with the rest of your body which seems to be in a constant slump. 

You’re like a zombie. You’re just carrying yourself around, mindlessly doing your tasks while you try not to nod off at work. Hank hasn’t said anything. He just watches you from afar, not knowing how to apologize because he’s never been able to pull himself into one. 

Connor hasn’t said anything either. Hank’s pet has continued his daily routines around the precinct, going where he’s told and sitting on the other side of the older man. You haven’t been observing them much lately. Been a bit too preoccupied with the threat of sleep paralysis to do anything that you find matters in a social sense. 

Carla’s case is still open. Her boyfriend is still out there, watching and waiting. Maybe for you. Maybe for some other innocent woman. You keep picturing him towering over you, his shoulders looming, strong jaw twitching with anger. Those masculine brows, defined with the intent to strike at you. Kill you, like your old friend. 

Finally, on the fourth day of little to know sleep, you fell asleep at your desk. Completely zonked out, your head slumped against the surface, squishing your cheek in the process. Connor jumped up from his seat, Hank following shortly after. But there was no threat, you were simply resting. Once the two realized this, they calmed a little. Hank opted to send Connor over to you to check you out, crossing his arms as he got ready to observe. 

The Android creeps over. Your breathing is steady. So is your heartrate. You’re not in shock or anything at all. You’re not even hurt. 

“Y/N?” he prompts lightly, now crouched to be close enough to your ear so he can whisper. His chocolate eyes glance around the precinct, looking for anyone who might have noticed you to try and save you some embarrassment. Then he glances towards the Captain in his office, and he knows he has to hurry himself so you don’t get caught and reprimanded. 

“Doctor L/N?”

No response. Connor looks back at Hank, who shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly with little help. 

“Doctor L/N, you have to wake up,” he tells you, poking the back of your slumped shoulder. 

You were asleep, yes, but apparently not very deeply. You stir from your slumber, raising your head and your mousy appearance to look over at Connor with confused eyes. 

“What happened?” you strain, stretching. Connor detects a bit of drool on the corner of your lips. 

“You fell asleep at work,” Connor explains slowly. 

“I did?” you squint, obviously still out of it. 

“You have... drool on your lips.”

You wipe the left corner. “The other side,” Connor gestures lightly to his own lips. “Yes. You got it.”

“Was I out for long?” you look around, adjusting to the so very bright lights of the building. 

“No,” Connor answers in that sweet, sweet voice of his. “Maybe a minute, or two.”

“Oh,” you say, your eyes wandering around. 

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

That night, it rains. 

Thunder echoes, with  ripples of light from the lightning that bears across the sky like great claw hands. 

You watch the view out your window from the middle of your bed for a long time. You’re curled up in a ball on the blankets, not even under them. You’re just there, watching the sky that reflects in your eyes. 

A sudden stir in you gives you a change of heart. Something you can’t explain to the fullest extent, something not even I, the one in charge of relaying all that’s happening to you, could explain the exact feeling. It’s like the snapping of a rubber band at 2:15 in the morning. 

You can’t stay in this apartment anymore. Not even two locks are enough to protect you. Not your kitchen knives, or the gun given to you from the department for self defense. None of it seems like enough, because all of those things are used after something happens. They don’t prevent it. 

You’re in a hurry. The comfiest pajamas you own are soaked in the salty rain water and protected only by the simplest of winter coats you own. It’s nice, though not appropriate for the current weather of course. Your hair gets drenched fast. Every individual drip that falls from the tip of your nose is felt, like you’re more hyperaware than usual. 

Now you’ve arrived at a house. A one story, fairly inexpensive home with a garage and recognizable old car out front. As you approach, you can already hear the barking of a dog, see a neighbor turn their lights on briefly to observe you, and feel the shivering of your knuckles as they tap on the door sporadically.

Come on, Hank, you think.  Please protect me. Please do this for me. 

And, believe me, Hank Anderson would’ve done it had he been awake. But he hadn’t been, and so he didn’t answer the door. Instead, the door swings open, and inside you see an Android. 

A tall one, with soft facial features. He has long, dark eyelashes framing dark eyes, surrounded by dark hair. He’s clean and clear cut, very put together. It’s Connor, Hank’s pet that you’ve never been able to get the hang of knowing. And he’s as shocked as you are. 

Your drenched hair, shivering body, distant look in your eyes. Though, Connor’s unsure of how he would appear if he had to show up to anyone’s house at 2:34am. Probably unwell. Probably a little bit like you. 

“Doctor L/N,” he says, though it seems mostly to himself. His parched lips barely move, though you notice how pink they look in comparison to everything else right now. 

“Can I come in?”

Connor is still for a few seconds, obviously still processing your appearance. For what, you don’t know. Must’ve been one of the few things he’s simply unable to calculate. But then he moves himself to the side, and you carry yourself in. 

As soon as the door closes behind you, everything is so much warmer. You haven’t been to Hank’s place in months, but it still feels as homey as it did before. It’s cleaner than it was a year ago. There’s more pictures on the walls, more clutter lining the shelves. He’s starting to care about things again. That’s good. 

“What are you doing here?” you suddenly ask, turning around to face Connor. 

That’s right- what is he doing here? He and Hank couldn’t be living together, could they? Or is... or is it that Hank is pretending Connor is someone else, too?

Connor’s led goes yellow, then blue, then back to yellow. “Lieutenant Anderson has offered me a place to stay until I’m ready to go on myself,” he explains, though the way it looks at you makes it seem like Connor doesn’t want to tell you this. Like he feels the need to explain himself. 

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

You wipe your face, smearing your leftover makeup from your eye with the rain water. It burns, but you can’t feel it over the cold. “I uh- um... I’ve been having trouble- trouble sleeping.”

Connor’s lips close, and he looks at you in understanding as you stand there, now feeling your own pressure of having to explain yourself. 

“Just like... at my place I can’t- can’t sleep. Not a lot of it.”

Connor knows he shouldn’t, but it’s right there on the very tip of his tongue. It’s so close to just spilling out, until finally it does, all at once. He’s too curious to try and stop it. “Why?”

“I just- I can’t-”

You’re looking everywhere. The floor, the wall, covering your eyes with your arm or your hand, shifting back and forth between feet, making a soggy spot on the floor from your dripping clothes. 

“Can’t sleep.”

When you look up to Connor again, you feel better. Still panicked, but like you’re not in trouble. His eyes are so soft. They’re so human, and comforting. He looks at you like he understands, and like he’s not upset. You can see why Hank would pretend he is who he is now. But there’s no one for you to pretend who Connor is. He’s just Connor. And he’s better than you. 

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

Connor lets you wear one of his sets of identical clothes. It’s a grey t-shirt and blue pajama pants. Your hair is still wet, but Connor doesn’t say anything. He lets you sit on the couch and watch one of Hank’s basketball recordings while he goes to make tea. 

He brings it to you and sets it down on the coffee table in front, but like days ago, you can’t bring yourself to touch it. Connor’s made himself a cup too, but doesn’t drink it. It’s deadly silent, the only light coming from the faint glow of the tv, the only sound coming from the biases of those annoying sports commentators. 

“Connor?” you whisper hoarsely, turning your body to face him. 

He looks over at you, at full attention. Such a soft boy. 

“Do you think I’m afraid of anything?”

Connor’s led goes yellow. It flickers in circles until finally he says, “What do you mean, Y/N?”

You look down at your hands. “W-when I try to sleep, I see someone,” you say, not bearing to look at anyone from that gender for a moment. “He never leaves me alone. I feel like I- like I’m seeing this thing everywhere. I can’t avoid it. It won’t leave me alone.”

“What is it?” Connor prods gently, leaning in in that innocent, but curious way he does. 

You open your mouth like you’re going to answer, but then your mouth goes dry. Instead, you just shrug your shoulders in a weak attempt of lying. 

“Um... why are you still awake?” you ask instead. 

“Androids don’t need to sleep,” Connor explains to you. “We just power down to conserve energy, but I don’t need as much as others.”

A light puff of air escapes your nose in time with the flickering of the corners of your lips. “Sounds like you’re bragging,” you tease for a second. 

Then it goes quiet.

“I don’t think you’re scared of anything,” you hear Connor’s voice say clearly. “At least, not that I’ve seen. You’re very diligent in your work.”

You take the compliment. It warms your chest for a moment, but the pit inside you is not so easily gotten rid of.

Your nails scrape against each other, breaking while you pick at one of your index fingers. “I think I have like... this fear of men. Fear of something.”

Connor’s led goes yellow.

“Androphobia, also known as the fear of male presences, affects nearly one third of the current female population.”

Connor watches you continue to pick at your nails. The memory of you standing at the door step, shivering like a kitten, drowning in the rain water stays on his mind. “Is this what you think you have, Y/N?” he asks, though this time it’s far more soft.

It sounds like he really cares.

You look up to him, your eyes glossing over from stress and the incoming wave of tears you can feel in the back of your throat.

“I can assure you, Doctor L/N, you are safe here,” Connor continues, holding eye contact as he speaks. “I won’t let any kind of harm get to you.”

The tears in your eyes seem less violent now. Like they’re disappearing already. And that’s how the story ends, in fact. With you, looking up at Connor, seated on Hank’s couch with your hair dripping around you- him promising not to hurt you. It ends on the silence that follows, right between the stare the two of you share.

  * ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

This is the first thing I’ve proof read. Also one of the longest things I’ve written somehow? It was fun. I apologize for any mistakes as English is not my first language.

#detroit: become human #detroit become human fanfiction #detroit become human x reader #dbh fanfiction #dbh x reader #dbh imagines #detroit become human imagines #connor dbh x reader #connor dbh imagines #connor detroit become human x reader #connor detroit become human imagines #x reader #fanfiction #imagine #imagines #rk800 x reader #connor rk800 x reader #connor rk800 imagine #connor rk800 imagines #detroit: become human x reader #detroit become human connor x reader #detroit: become human connor x reader #dbh connor x reader #dbh connor imagines #dbh connor #dbh connor fanfiction

[notnctu]

jaehyun: the charming

━ welcome home to housemating smut series :)

☆ click the link above to read background info about this housemate!

☆ GENRE: smut, pwp ☆ DETAILS: fem!reader, college!au, housemate!au ☆ WARNINGS: explicit language, nicknames, dirty talking, possessiveness, rough sex, praise kink, oral (giving and receiving), spitting, choking, unprotected (wrap up yall!!) ☆ WC: 4.1k ☆ SYNOPSIS: A harmless game of Truth Or Dare with your housemates reveals Jaehyun’s true desires and has him eyeing you the entire night.

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: this is the only part for jaehyun ! sorry for the long wait,, i started this during my writing hiatus and did not have much motivation to finish it since its been really difficult to write smut lately :/ regardless, i hope you can leave me some feedback if you liked it <3 doyoung’s part will be the next in the series once i get to it !

“If you could kiss anyone in this room right now, who would it be?” Johnny beckons his drink to Jaehyun, who blinks at him with knitted eyebrows and a quizzical expression.

It’s one of those rare nights where all your housemates are home and Doyoung is actually out of his room to participate in everyone’s foolishness. All six of you sit comfortably in the living room as the fifth round of Truth or Dare commences. 

You share the large couch with Jaemin and Haechan, sandwiching you in between them happily. Doyoung, Jaehyun and Johnny are seated in their own respective chairs that circle the tiny coffee table in the center. 

And if your housemates could be any more distracting, Jaehyun sits laid-back without a shirt on and grey sweatpants that fit loosely on his legs, manspreading as if he has all the space in the world. His soft hair falls messily around his face from constantly running his hands through it and his abs flex without him needing to do much.

It’s hard not to stare, but no one in the room calls you out for doing so. They’ve all stared at you plenty enough times on other occasions, so it would be hard for any of them to give you a counterargument. Jaehyun simply looks good enough to devour, and he can say the same for you as he steals sly glances your way.

Every subtle connection of smoldering eye contact sends a thrill down your core, and the smirk paired with his dotted dimple has you swooning for him over and over. Jaehyun knows every way to drive you wild without needing to say or touch you.

It’s unbelievable how that man has only allowed you to see his intimacy once with the way he whistles whenever you walk down the stairs in a cute outfit or how often he compliments your butt just for the pure satisfaction of you having one. Despite having the highest body count in the entire house, he has great self control and never comes off as being too needy. 

And every time he is needy, he already has another girl in his room to satisfy him. So, this never gave you another opportunity to sleep with him as much as you wanted to. If you weren’t so bashful, you might’ve had enough courage to just walk into his room and ask. 

Nonetheless, here you both are: sitting across from each other during a slowly escalating game of Truth or Dare and eyeing each other every chance you can get.

“Shouldn’t you ask y/n that question?” Jaehyun mumbles, finding Johnny’s question rather ridiculous since the ratio in the room is 1 girl to 5 guys and finds no curiosity to know how bad of a kisser the rest of his housemates are. “I think you’d rather know her answer than mine.”

You clear your throat when every attention is drawn toward you, expecting you to give a truthful response when it isn’t even your turn. “What if I didn’t pick truth?”

“You want a dare?” Jaemin rests a hand on your bare thigh and turns delightfully toward you with a dark mischievous gleam in his eye.

Gulping, you try your best to diffuse the situation. “It’s not my turn.” 

“I’ll give my turn to you.” Jaehyun smiles and proceeds to gesture toward you to speak.

Bewildered, you’re looking to Doyoung to protest about such unfair grounds of switching the rules. However, he doesn’t say a word, shrugging it off like it’s not a big deal. “You’re all unbelievable.” You scoff sarcastically.

“C’mon, it’s just a friendly game. Everyone wants you to go.” Haechan clicks his tongue out of impatience, the anticipation practically suffocating the whole house.

“Ask me when it’s my turn.” You stand your ground and send Jaehyun a quick glare. 

The tension drops instantly from the stiff atmosphere. Haechan’s groan erupts beside you as he sits back against the couch with his arms crossed. 

“Okay, buttercup. I’ll answer Johnny’s ridiculous question, but know that I have a good one for you.” Jaehyun leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped together loosely. “I’d kiss y/n.” 

Your breath hitches, but no one else is actually surprised by his answer. “Yeah, I’d kiss y/n too if this was my selection pool.” Doyoung remarks with a roll in his eyes.

“I mean,” Jaehyun sits back coolly in his chair, hands stretched behind his head and every muscle flexed in view. Every movement has your mouth watering at his impressive body on display. “Even if we were playing with other people, I’d still choose y/n.” A dimple smile causes your heart to beat rapidly.

Johnny scoffs, “if we circled up all your flings, you’d still choose y/n?” 

Jaehyun ponders the hypothetical for a second, but his eyes land back on yours and every hesitation disappears. “Yeah. She has the softest lips.” He says, very matter of fact.

Your fingers unconsciously graze against your lips briefly, before you clear your throat and shake away the power of his arousing words. “Okay, okay. Let’s move on?” 

“Okay, y/n. Truth or Dare?” Jaehyun picks this open opportunity to bring the attention back to you. Your housemates wait patiently for your choice, with eyebrows raised in the thick tension that this simple game has built up.

With shifty eyes and a dry throat, you mutter. “Dare.” 

There is a notable sparkle in Jaehyun’s dark lustful orbs. “I dare you to kiss the person that you think is the hottest in this room.” 

“Well, it would be difficult to kiss myself.” Rolling your eyes, the edge in your tone is enough to make the rest of them snicker. 

“I’m done after this round. It’s always the weirdest twists whenever we play games like this together.” Doyoung crosses his arms, throwing a small fit at the request. 

Johnny smirks, “because you know y/n wouldn’t kiss you?” 

Doyoung’s mouth opens to protest, but he falls short of a defensive response. He takes his defeat and slumps back against the chair, pouty and grumpy. “Just get it over with and kiss Jaehyun.” 

With a turn of events, you get up from your spot on the couch. Jaehyun follows your every move, your stare never leaving his own. Like a lost puppy, you lead him into thinking the kiss would be for him. However, you lean forward and hold Doyoung’s chin gently, planting a soft kiss on the equally shocked boy. 

“I think Doyoung is the hottest because he treats me with the most chivalry.” The sweetness that taints your mocking words has Doyoung turning red and Jaehyun turning into stone. The charming smile that lights up your darkest parts is gone, and Jaehyun blinks back at you with a tight jaw. 

Jaemin and Haechan read the room too well, excusing themselves before the tension reaches its peak. Doyoung gulps, glancing between you and Jaehyun, and awkwardly makes his way back to his room. Johnny chuckles at the abrupt end of the night, patting Jaehyun’s shoulder lightly before also heading up to bed. 

Every next move is crucial. With your weight barred on your left leg, you cross your arms with as much attitude as you can to push Jaehyun’s buttons further. “Jaehyun, if you really wanted a kiss, you could just ask me without wasting a turn.”

“Where’s the fun in that, buttercup? You clearly like testing your limits.” His voice drops at the end of his sentence. Jaehyun stands up, approaching you slowly. “But if you want my attention, you could just ask me without trying to make me jealous.”

His boldness catches you off guard, leaving you a bit speechless to formulate a proper explanation. Your hesitation gets caught in your throat when Jaehyun lightly places his hand on your waist. “It’s late, we should probably get to bed.” His raspy baritone cadence rumbles your chest.

Fingers graze his arm softly, but he pulls away before you can get a hold of him. “Are you actually going to sleep?”

Jaehyun walks to the bottom of the staircase, motioning you to walk first. “No, I’ll be up thinking about you.” A smirk finishes his sensual taunt and you cautiously head up the stairs. 

He follows directly after you and a whistle escapes his lips. “Have I given you your daily ass compliment yet?”

“Got one this morning.” With each step, Jaehyun is quick to match. 

“Well, you look amazing everyday.” He meets you at the top of the steps and when you’re ready to part back into your room, he stops you. “Where’s my kiss goodnight, baby?” 

You can’t possibly count the numerous times you’ve rolled your eyes being around him. “In my room, if you dare wish to enter.” Though your statement was clearly sarcastic, Jaehyun raises an questionable eyebrow. 

“I’ll only come if you let me in.” His innocent eyes do not match his sinister tone and his hidden innuendos. 

“I guess I always go into your room, it would be nice to have a change.” Taking his hand, you lead him down the hallway. The doors of your other housemates are oddly closed, but you figured they wanted some privacy. His warm hand feels rough against your palm and your heart drums as you two inch closer to your bedroom.

Jaehyun gently closes your door and examines your room as if he’s never been inside. “Don’t be a stranger.” You say, dropping his hand and sitting at the edge of your bed.

“Do you leave your underwear drawer open for all your friends to see?” He snickers, his pinky holding your special red lace panties up in the air. Your eyes go wide as you quickly yank the material out of his possession and shove the cabinet closed.

“I wouldn’t have figured you were the nosey type.” You grumble, but he takes this close proximity to pull you into his bare chest. His firm hand gives your ass a soft squeeze.

“It was quite obviously on display.” His dark whisper sends a chill down your spine and butterflies to swirl in the pit of your core. The faint smell of his body wash suffocates you all around and his sultry stare has you melting in his hands. It is so difficult to resist him, you want everything that is Jung Jaehyun.

Your words are quite possibly caught in your throat, but the hesitation does not show in your expression. Lightly, your fingertips trace the outline of his biceps and his dark stare follows every drag. Admittedly, Jaehyun will find any excuse to grab your attention. Call him possessive for no good reason, but something inside him bubbles with envy whenever your other housemates even leave a lingering stare.

Although he’s not the type to be vocal about it, his facial expressions speak volumes. May it be his competitive nature, but he can’t let the others have you. You have unknowingly become off-limits to the rest, but frankly, you don’t care all too much. Your prize is already in front of you.

“Are you going to kiss me or do I have to wait all night again?” With every will, you try your best to control the nervous tremble in your bold rhetorical question.

Jaehyun wastes no more time; soft lips crash into your own and you feel like you’re floating. Only he can make you feel this way. Hands in hair, the tug on his fresh locks has him moaning through the kiss. Jaehyun loses himself in you, rubbing his semi-hard cock against your thigh and gripping your ass harshly in his hand.

Every drip of saliva is swapped in the mess of your connected mouths and you’re reminded of how rough this man enjoys to be. Your knees buckle at the thought of him and Jaehyun is quick to hold you up, placing you strategically at the end of your bed. 

Pulling away, he stands in front of you with the largest dick print against his sweatpants, along with a small wet spot. There are no bashful words exchanged as the room is filled with heavy breathing and sultry looks. Jaehyun guides your hand to his waistband, silently waiting for you to free him.

Looking up at your beautiful boy, the neediness of release almost ruins his perfect charming look. Hair is tousled wildly across his eyes and his bottom lip escapes underneath the top row of his pearly teeth. He just looks so fucked out already, you can’t imagine how much he was holding back earlier.

You pull down enough of his pants for his dick to spring up right in front of you, not expecting the lack of underwear. Your small gasp cause him to chuckle, pushing the back of your head forward toward his hard cock. “Surprised?”

“You weren’t wearing underwear the entire night?” You question him as your hands cup his balls. A sharp intake of breath is his only response before he can compose himself. 

Through gritted teeth, Jaehyun stutters, “Like you were?” He throws his head back when your warm tongue flicks against his throbbing red tip. Every vein in his arm and neck pops on display as he grabs a hold of your hair.

“You wouldn’t know.” You snicker, running your tongue up and down his shaft. Jaehyun looks back down at your piercing eyes and his dick right above your cheek.

A smirk grows devilishly, “I’m about to find out.” Pushing your shoulder back gently, your back lands comfortably on the mattress. Your heart is racing as Jaehyun gets down on his knees, situating himself in between your open legs.

“May I?” He asks, warm hands on your inner thighs as he patiently waits for your answer.

“Yes.” Jaehyun pulls your shorts down to reveal your favorite comfort cotton panties that have faded from their original color. Naturally, you grow embarrassed and quickly slap your legs closed before Jaehyun can process. 

He blinks at you questionably, quite taken aback by the abrupt motion. “Are you okay?”

“Let’s just say I wasn’t completely expecting to sleep with anyone tonight. I’m not quite prepared down there.” Your gaze drops and you anxiously fist your sheets in your sweaty hands.

Jaehyun nods, understanding your implications. “I don’t care about those things. You are…” landing a quick peck on your bare knee, he rubs reassuring circles with his thumb. “.... the prettiest baby ever. And if you’d let me, buttercup, I want to make you feel good.” 

He has always been suave with his words, as if he knows the handbook to get butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Slowly, your legs open back up before him and the slightest groan rumbles from his throat.

The wet patch on your panties is hard to ignore and he’s mesmerized, to say the least. He peels down your underwear and uses his thumb to spread your lips. Leaning forward, Jaehyun lightly licks at your erect clit and your twitch in response is enough to feed into his ego. 

He dives hungrily, eating you out until your eyes roll to the back of your head and your back is arching off of the bed. He flattens his tongue against you, pushing in and out of your dripping hole in a rhythmic motion. His nose is deep in your skin, intoxicated by your arousal, and his eyes are drinking up your uncontrollable reactions.

It’s as if electricity shocks through your lower half. The pleasure that comes with every lick and sweet suckle has you panting for more. His name echoes from your tender lips while Jaehyun inserts two fingers to stretch you out. The initial ache subsides into an indescribable pleasure; it’s the feeling of being full of anything mixing with the sensitivity of tongue against clit that has you practically on the verge of release. 

Jaehyun isn’t going to give it to you that easily. The moment your moans grow bolder, your legs begin to shake, your hand putting a little more pressure on his head, he pulls away and gets up. A desperate sigh crushes your chest as the build up leads to dissatisfaction. Jaehyun wipes his chin with the back of his hand, his two fingers glistening before being shoved into your own mouth. 

“That’s my good girl, give yourself a taste.” His hot words cause you to flood a bit more, the feeling of wetness pooling at your core. However, you two toy each other with no end as he is provoked by the way your tongue sensually swirls around his digits and how your hips keep squirming closer to the edge. “How badly do you want to get fucked?”

His firm hand holds your moving hips into the bed and you’re aching to be filled with his dick. He’s so hard that it slaps against his abdomen, red tip and spewing precum. Nonetheless, his self restraint is quite strong as he notices the defeat in your expression. Enough teasing, your body wants him endlessly. 

“Jaehyun, I want you to give me all that you got.” At the end of your request, he enters you slowly with a breathy moan. The stretch is much more than his two fingers, causing you to squirm and wiggle. Inch by inch, Jaehyun fills you to your brim and pauses for you to adjust to his size. 

“Fuck, it’s been awhile since we’ve slept together. I almost forgot how tight you are.” How could this man possibly smile with so much innocence while saying such foul things? The next action causes you to go a bit dizzy as he spits down at your clit and rubs it lovingly with his thumb. You practically see stars on your mundane ceiling. 

He starts moving his hips, deep long thrusts pulling out to only sharply fill you up again. Jaehyun is relentless as every thrust forward has you moving more and more up the bed. Your legs are pressed against your chest, folding you over to hit your sweet spot. When his tip grazes upon the greatest feeling ever, your grip on the sheets grows tighter and he’s smirking at how your mouth hangs open in pure ecstasy and shock.

“You’re so good at taking my cock.” He pants, moving faster than before. “My baby hasn’t been fucked properly in a while, has she?”

You’re at a loss for words at every drag and push. Regardless of you wanting to speak, no words seem to make its way out. Jaehyun narrows his eyes at you, dark grin and a menacing taunt in his low voice. A chuckle begins his sentence, “I know… it’s hard to talk when you feel so good right, buttercup? I can feel you getting more excited down there.”

Placing your legs around his waist, he leans down over you. His sneaky hand travels up your torso, giving your boobs a light squeeze through your shirt. Then, he wraps his hand around your neck gently and carefully, only applying enough pressure to drive you wild. 

He breaks his rhythm, reverting back to the previous slow pace. Something about the way you feel around him, hot and tight, needy and wet. Jaehyun just loves how your body reacts.

The feeling of soreness occupies your lower half and you’re more than certain it’s going to be rough tomorrow morning. Every thrust is agonizing, yet powerful enough to be felt in your guts. Jaehyun never fails to leave an impression.

Through your moans, you manage to stutter out his name. “Please, harder.” Jaehyun picks you up, hands supporting your butt and pressing your back against your door. Placing your legs down, you’re standing up right facing him with a confused expression at the change of location.

For a brief moment, his lustful glare is warm and friendly. It’s the same look that greets you in the car when he drives you two to campus. It’s the one he often looks at you with across the dinner table, usually accompanied with his robust laughter. Jaehyun looks at you as if he’s only ever seen you.

However, his next words are far from romantic and his hand finds its way to your throat, pinning you up against the cold door. “I want them to hear how good I fuck you.” Them. The rest of your housemates. Knowing that the house is far from soundproof, Jaehyun wants everyone to know how enthusiastic he makes you feel. 

“But--” As you begin to protest, he drives his hips up and nestles into you. His free hand grips your waist steadily as he barely pulls out, fucking you deeper until you feel him at the pit of your stomach. There is no ability to hold back your pleasure, moans just naturally fill the room and bounce off every wall.

“Cum for me, I know you’re close.” Jaehyun has no intentions to stop, the feeling of both releases being at the tip of your tongues. “Be the good girl that you are and cum for me.”

The small bubble inside of you is ready to burst. Jaehyun sucks on his fingers to coat them with saliva and reaches down to stroke at your clit. Like a switch, your internal light bulb explodes and every spark of electricity fuels your every vein. 

Your orgasm electrifies you, causing every limb to shake uncontrollably and sporadically. Jaehyun keeps thrusting up, helping you ride out the intensity of your high. 

“There you go, baby.” A small kiss on your shoulder, he pulls out and the emptiness is felt immediately. Getting on your knees, you take his cock in your mouth to help him finish. He rests his fists on the door, hovering over you as his abs flex beautifully under the fluorescent light. Hollowing out your cheeks, your throat invites him deeper and this causes him to mindlessly thrust into your mouth. 

Jaehyun sounds breathy above you, whining about how close he is to cumming. Silence in the room has been replaced with his heavy pants and soft groans, the sound of suckling and slick saliva droning out anything else.

“Fuck, y/n.” He says, as he holds your cheek in his palm and maintains eye contact with you through his brown locks. The view of his dick being swallowed up in your mouth is more than enough to drive him to his edge, strings of cum coating the back of your throat from his release. The saltiness immediately hits your palette.

Jaehyun tosses his head back until the satisfaction dissipates. Slowly pulling himself out, he moves quickly to find you a tissue. For a moment, neither one of you speak as he silently dresses himself and you wipe the remaining spit off of your lips.

He helps you up from the floor, lightly dusting off your bare knees for you. And he says something to break the slightly awkward atmosphere, “are you kicking me out like you do with the rest of your hookups?” Jaehyun laughs, wide smile and dimples deep in his soft cheeks. The glow in his skin radiates in the dimness, he’s a sight that’s too difficult to look away from.

“Did you want to stay?” Tossing on a pair of fresh underwear and pajama shorts, you have a vague memory of Jaehyun holding you after your first fuck together. 

Though Jaehyun is your friend before anything else, he responds like every other hookup unsure about the next steps. He shrugs, turning around and tapping his back for you to hop on. “I’ll take you to the bathroom to wash up.” 

Jumping on his back and wrapping your arms around his neck, he carries you down the hall to the shared bathroom. “You didn’t exactly answer my question.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, knowing how embarrassed you are going to be the next morning when facing the rest of your housemates.

“I know you’re just going to come into my room anyways, right?” He sets you down and the door to the bathroom swings open to reveal an equally surprised Haechan. 

“Shit, you two scared me.” The dramatic boy rests a hand on his chest to calm his startled heart. “You might want to air out the bathroom before doing anything in there.” Jaehyun and Haechan share a laugh as you groan, irritated by the putrid fumes that cursed the poorly ventilated bathroom.

“You’re so gross.” You say, punching Haechan jokingly on the arm.

“Says you.” Haechan pauses to poke at Jaehyun’s bare chest, “and you. We are never playing Truth or Dare ever again.” 

“Don’t hate the players, hate the game bro.” Jaehyun snickers.

Haechan pays no more attention to the two of you, back turned and hurrying into his dark room. “I do hate the game now!” He yells in a whisper, shutting his door to end the conversation. You sigh out of relief that Haechan didn’t press for more details or jokes.

Housemates, you never know what adventures you’d run into with them. Nonetheless, you don’t mind and getting to see a shirtless Jaehyun parade around the house is always a treat.

#neosmutcollective #neowritingsnet #kpopscape #nct-writers #neothestars #nct smut #nct scenarios #jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jaehyun scenarios #nct #jung jaehyun #jaehyun scenario #housemating

[dreamrecorder]

The words we keep

Soulmate au - first words tattoed on the wrist

Includes: Venti | Diluc | Kaeya | Albedo | Zhongli | Xiao | Childe

Mentions of suicide in Zhongli; angst and brief violence for Childe

Oh you're here- I mean! I'm sorry I didn't mean to take your spot!

The bard had guessed that he'd meet his soulmate either in Angel's Share, in Windrise, or at the hands of his statue in Mondstadt. But the latter two were more unlikely. But he doesn't mind sharing his space with you really. In fact, Venti would be more than willing to let you in his space. But lo and behold! He didn't think he'd meet you at the hands of his statue!

Nights prior, you always heard a voice singing songs of various emotions. The voice eventually led you to Barbatos's statue. When you looked up, you saw the bard in green. His voice was very calming and pleasant to hear, so you always visited the statue at night. Until recently, your curiosity grew. Why does the bard always stay there at night?

Seeing your relaxed form on his statue, hair swaying in the wind. Venti just went soft. "Quite the lovely view isn't it?" 

He didn't mean to surprise but you still did become surprised. He found it endearing. "Oh you're here- I mean! I'm sorry I didn't mean to take your spot!"

Ah- you scared them. Please don't do that.

Now who did he scare and what did he do to warrant his soulmate's first words to him? Diluc has always been aware that he can be intimidating and usually he doesn't mind that. But for you- he does give half a mind.

There was a new winemaker that Connor had hired and Diluc has yet to meet them. Connor had even commented that their methods were a bit unusual. But if it's enough to get the former's approval, then Diluc will see to this newcomer.

Diluc met you during the night, just at the edges of the Stone Gate that signifies the border between Mondtsadt and Liyue. The man was simply patrolling around the area for any hidden dangers. That's when he saw you, kneeling on the ground with a group of slimes surrounding you. Seeing your plight, Diliuc quickly ran and summoned his greatsword. With a few swipes imbued with pyro, the slimes hastily retreated. He was about to chase them off, but he was more concerned of your safety.

Diluc was about to speak when you cut him off as you stood up, dusting your clothes. "Ah- you scared them. Please don't do that."

Diluc was dumbstruck for a second. He did not expect to meet his soulmate right here right now. Seeing his stupefied look, you raised a brow. "Are… you alright, Sir Diluc?"

"Those slimes were about to attack you." Diluc pointed out. His reply made you chuckle a bit and shake your head to the sides. Did he say anything funny?

"No they were not. I was trying to befriend them so that I could use their slime concentrations for the winery."

Now Diluc was even more confused. Slime? For tbe winery? "Wait- you're the new-"

"Winemaker. And your soulmate if you're not yet aware. Come on, let's go look for those slimes! We can talk on the way about our… professional and not-so professional side of our relationship." And with that, you trailed to the path of the slimes with a smile on your face. As for the wine tycoon, he was still confused- like a lost puppy, but there was this gentle smile that landed on his lips as he followed you.

Yes, I am suffering and in need of a Pyro Vision. Soulmate or not, if you don't have a Pyro Vision- shoo.

The text tattooed on Kaeya's wrist always left him laughing. He just knows, that this was meant to be a comical moment. He can even imagine the moment he meets his soulmate just from these words alone. But of course, he does worry about your well-being. Kaeya had his guesses. Maybe he would meet you in Dragonspine or maybe- you were an unprepared tourist enduring the permafrost of Snezhnaya and he'd meet you there. Well- in the end, he's still amused at your winterish pain.

Sure enough, Kaeya was tasked to scout Dragonspine for any Fatui activity. He could feel it under his skin that he'll meet you any second now. As he traversed through the mountain path, he noticed a group of warming seelies hovering over… someone? And that someone is shivering immensely. The captain grinned.

You heard footsteps approaching but you stayed in your crouched position, determined to preserve your body temperature. The seelies were helping, sure, but they were not enough to counter the coldness your Cryo Vision emanates. Damn it. Just because you're a cryo user doesn't mean you're immune to sheer cold.

The footsteps stopped and you snorted at the words the stranger spoke, "Could this possibly be my soulmate suffering in the cold and in need of a Pyro Vision?"

You huffed, you didn't want to meet your soulmate in this kind of situation. But it happened anyway, much to your dismay. Still crouched, you managed to turn to face the man as seelies continued hovering around.

"Yes, I am suffering and in need of a Pyro Vision. Soulmate or not, if you don't have a Pyro Vision- shoo."

Now actually hearing it from you made Kaeya laugh hard. If he was already amused just from the ink on his wrist before, Kaeya's now even more so deeply amused. You muttered sadist on his way. Deciding he's had enough a good laugh for today, the captain gave you his fur coat and a warming bottle. "Come on, let's get you some place warm, yes?"

You're not the only one! I actually did one for you, too!

When his mind is not occupied by hus studies, it would often drift ink embedded on his wrist. Everytime Albedo does so, he would often wonder what did the two of make for each other that would lead to you eventual meeting.

The Windblume Festival arrived, and of course, so will tourists from other lands. Usually, Albedo would simply pay no heed to the ongoing festivities and their participants. But this time- things were different. You unknowingly caught the alchemist's eye. There was this sudden itch in his hands- and Albedo knew he had to sketch you form. However, before he could even approach you- you left to another direction.

He caught sight of you again the next day. You were reading a book on a bench, with the plaza fountain giving you a beautiful background for Albedo. Discreetly, the alchemist sat on a bench front of yours and began sketching. Unbeknownst by him, you were also entranced by his form and you, too, began sketching.

Albedo was first to finish- and like usual, he would give the sketch to the person he drew of even if they were strangers. As he walked, there was this certain nervousness that found way in his stomach. This never happened before. Why was he nervous?

Once close enough, Albedo cleared his throat and handed you his sketch, "I know this seems suspicious, but I want you to have this. You have a wonderful form."

You'd be lying if you said your heart did not stop a beat at his words. When you saw the paper he was offering you, you gasped at how he caught every detail of you. Bashful, you tore the page you were drawing on from sketchbook and gave it to him.

"You're not the only one! I actually did one for you, too!"

When your words reached his ears, Archons bless you as he gave you a genuine and joyful smile.

Please... don't touch my heart that wants to disappear.

When Zhongli fully embraced his mortal form, he didn't expect the universe to gift him a soulmate. Like a snake, ink slithered into words that gave his heart a certain sadness. Zhongli knew, you were suffering somewhere... Out there...

He saw you first at the highest peak of Guyun Stone Forest. Everything happened so quickly. One second he was watching your distant form from the beaches below then the next he knew- his heart dropped, the same way you willingly fell to the hands of death that waited in the sea. The archon did what he knew is right- and that is saving you.

To Zhongli, immoratlity can both be a blessing and a curse. When your skins touched, he knew you were of immortality. He could sense it. And he could also sense the tiredness that nest in your soul from the burden of immortality.

Once Zhongli landed on safe ground, that's when he spoke. "I won't ask why, however is this truly what you want?"

The way his words reflected the ink written on your wrist made you open your eyes wide. When the realization sank in- that this man is your soulmate, you began crying. You were tired of life- but this man- this man is now your lock away from your want for death. If you stayed with him- another cycle of seeing the people you love come and go.

"Please..." you begged, "don't touch my heart that wants to disappear..."

Your voice was sad and pleading- but Zhongli was a stubborn man, just like his element. He wanted to help you but not by giving your death. He wanted you to see life in a new light, hopefully with him by your side.

Excuse me... Here- for you. Qingxin.

Xiao was always resolute in his resolve that he has no need of a soulmate deemed by the universe. However, there are times that he would let his mind flutter around the concept. Specifically, around the words elegantly written on his wrist and his soulmate. Xiao would question why would you give him qingxin flowers in the first place. Other than that, there was also this underlying worry in his thoughts about you and the qingxin flowers. These flowers... they can only be gathered on high stone peaks. What if you slipped and fall?

This leads Xiao to have days where he just spends his time at the peaks of Jueyun Karst, looking out for any foolish person scale mountains just for qingxin. It's not because he's worried about you no- Xiao just doesn't want anyone die under his protection over Liyue. There has already been too much deat-

"Excuse me..."

At the voice, Xiao's head whipped to your direction with eyes wide in surprise.

"Here- for you. Qingxin."

There was this bored look in your face, but Xiao could see the worry in your eyes. Worry? Were you worried about him? Xiao frowned at the thought but still took the flowers from your outstretched hand.

"Foolish mortal... you could have gotten yourself hurt. Climbing peaks just for qingxin..."

... But still a small smile graced his lips and your heart melted.

"Thank you."

You're the only person I recognize whose eyes resemble the deep blue ocean.

The words tattooed on his wrist always left Childe questioning about his soulmate and what led them saying these words. Somehow- imagining the possible scenarios always makes him melt. This string of words- it never fails him to bring a sense of comfort in his heart. Childe learns of yoir existance during a mission.

The mission was to assasinate a captain of the Knights- you. He observed you for days and took note how you're silent and alone for the most part but kind to the people who approach you- he almost feels bad for having to kill you. The day came when he had to kill you. It was supposed to be a quick kill- but he should know better. You were a captain for a reason, so you fought back. However, in the end, Childe was stronger as he wrap his hands around your fragile neck. Another second, he'd have you dead- until a child's voice cut through- your little brother. The way your eyes watered up at the sight of your only family. Seeing the hurt in your eyes, Childe's thoughts went overdrive- No- nonononono way I'm killing in front of a kid- He simply can't- he was reminded of his little brother, too. With a wavering will to disobey orders, Childe let you go and retreated to the night,

"Don't think this is the last time you'll see me."

Like a shattering glass- the words he uttered made your heart shatter like glass...

Childe saw you again, this time in Liyue. When your gazes meet- there was a shock that passed through with tension suddenly gripping your necks. Childe swore he hid much of his identity physically that night- but he knew you recognized him. He managed to corner you in Yuehai Pavillion by swooping into an empty seat right in front of you. There was a tense moment and an oppresive air. He noticed how your hands were ready to grab your weapon. "How did you recognize me?"

You carefully thought of your words. And when you did reply, Childe have never felt so much despair until today. "You're the only person I recognize whose eyes resemble the deep blue ocean."

Back before he knew you- these words always comforted Childe- but now? Childe felt chills in his spine as despair clouded his mind. Why would the universe decide to have person he was supposed to kill his soulmate.

Similarly, his heart also shattered.

A/N: Look!!! I got meself some banners ksks---- this is all Childe's fault rawr

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #venti x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #albedo x reader #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #childe x reader #venti #diluc #kaeya #albedo #zhongli #xiao #childe #genshin

[todoscript]

how he would ask you out

request: pls some headcanons of how the boys (shinsou/tamaki/shouto) would ask the girl they like out 🥺

characters: shinsou hitoshi, amajiki tamaki, todoroki shouto

genre: fluff

word count: 3.3k+ total, 900-1200 per character

tags: pining, confessions, fem!reader

author’s notes: sorry if this sounds rushed?? i can’t write 

copyright 2021 todoscript, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else.

SHINSOU HITOSHI

two years after his enrollment into the hero course, shinsou had finally came to terms with the feelings he’s been holding for you for quite some time now.

what began as just friendly encounters and kind gestures felt like something more to him. after all, you were one of the key people that led him to transition smoothly into the class, with your helpful demeanor and coming to his aid whenever he was stressed and troubled by the new environment.

you went out of your way to organize study sessions and small arrangements to mingle and get to know the other students better.

you reiterated to him that if he ever had any questions about anything, he could always come to you.

initially, shinsou thought he was being a burden—that he was just heavy baggage that tied you down.

however, you assured he was anything but, and stated that you were more than happy to help him, even going to say you enjoyed spending time and getting to learn more about him.

at your response, shinsou was appalled at how genuine you were.

appalled… but also very grateful.

eventually, there came a point when he realized there was no mistaking the affection he felt for you—not when he subconsciously noted every one of your habits and intricacies, able to tell whatever emotions were running through you at a simple glance, or when he would stop to admire the way you decided to style your hair differently or changed your look, thinking you seemed even more charming that day by the confidence you exude.

no, at that point, he’s sure it was painfully obvious. so obvious, in fact, that kaminari and mina had chosen to skip today’s group study session in favor of letting the two of you have your “alone time”. whatever that could mean.

shinsou had grimaced over their excuse of “being too busy that day” when you had told him the reasoning they gave you over text, despite knowing their next exam was only a couple days away. recalling just how nosy and enthusiastic they could get when involved in these kinds of affairs, he had an inkling of what exactly those two were planning. you, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to their schemes.

however, what did latch onto your mind was the thought of spending the day with only shinsou, in his very room, sitting across from each other with your textbooks open in front of you. though you should be more attentive to your studies, you couldn’t help the palpitations beating loudly in your chest and your wandering eyes that snuck glances at him after every question you answered.

unbeknownst to you, shinsou mirrored your actions all the same, reciprocating the flustered behavior, albeit a bit more subtly.

keep calm, hitoshi. why are you getting all worked up? he would say to himself, putting on his usual facade.

although he came off as relatively calm and collected on the outside, it’s difficult to keep his emotions in check when actions never lie.

that was especially true as he reached his hand out for the eraser you two were sharing between each other. with his eyes continuing to gander down at his notes, he hadn’t noticed that you were lunging for the same thing—not until your fingers had suddenly touched and you both pulled away at a speed equivalent to making contact with fire.

his stare unfaltering, shinsou was surprised to discern the embarrassed look on your face that immediately fixed itself as you rummaged through your pencil pouch. a second later, you pulled out another eraser, one that was notably smaller than the one you were sharing.

“um.. i’ll just use this,” you offered, and shinsou rubbed the back of his neck, the whole situation more awkward than it needed to be considering you never had any trouble sharing your supplies with each other before.

through some examination of your demeanor, shinsou had made a… bold enough claim, thinking that maybe—just maybe—you held the same kind of affections for him as he did for you.

it’s like he recalled earlier—actions never lie—and shinsou didn’t let the quiver of your lips or the intense concentration at your work to avoid meeting his gaze go past his head. that’s what spurred him to finally act on his desires.

without warning, he leaned forward on his seat to lay his hand over yours that caught your attention. you met his eyes, astonished to say the least, but more so concerned by how your eyes widened before you were about to open your mouth to ask him what was wrong.

the violet-haired male beats you to your words, voice resonating firmly, “y/n.”

you blinked. “y-yeah..?”

“i know this might be a bit late coming from me, but,” you could feel his hand tighten atop yours, “after exams, do you want to catch a movie together? just the two of us?”

shinsou fought the urge to look away, bashful at how he made his declaration for your time. the warmth surging under his skin was alleviated at the smile that slowly curled on your lips as you rotate your wrist, your palm touching his. the expression washing over your features told him you’ve been waiting for him to ask you this for a while now.

“i’d love to.”

AMAJIKI TAMAKI

ever a shy and introverted individual, tamaki has never had the heart to ask you out despite years of harboring a crush on you.

every time the thought had crossed his mind, he’d reason poorly with himself that you wouldn’t be interested in him in that way.

it didn’t help that his low self-esteem only deepened that thought that had now rooted itself in his brain.

at such a prestigious school like u.a., you were bound to find someone far more compelling than him—someone with guts, confidence, and great social skills. not a guy like him who conjures the image of potatoes at every anxiety-inducing encounter he comes across.

he was relieved enough to settle himself comfortably as just your friend—a title that allowed him to stay close and keep within your circle, all the while subjecting him to simply admiring you from afar.

but his eyes that held a hidden longing for more weren’t overlooked by a fellow student of his. or to be precise, the ever curious and free-spirited, hadou nejire.

always aware of his surroundings, it was hard not to notice that peculiar stare she’d aim at him during moments where he might’ve just finished speaking to you, or when you’d pass by and his head would naturally drift in your direction.

it was like she was picking apart every detail laid on him and it made tamaki absolutely restless.

tamaki’s suspicions and anxiety were later raised during one instance at the lunch table. he was at his usual seat next to his other big three companions, mirio and the aforementioned nejire, who was eyeing him with a gleam in her eye.

even with his self-consciousness, tamaki did his best not to pay any mind to the undesired attention and munched on his plate of takoyaki—the octopus nestled in the batter sure to come in handy later in training that day.

to his dismay, you passed by their table with your tray of food in hand, and nejire did not waste any time calling you over in that cheery tone of hers.

she invited you to sit down with them. you gave her invitation some thought before ultimately placing yourself in the free spot next to mirio, with nejire and tamaki already seated across from you.

the girl was all smiles and hums while tamaki was in a state of distress, both at his friend’s odd behavior, which was starting to spell trouble, to having you pulled into all of this. mirio was just being mirio, welcoming as always.

you greeted everyone at the table, making eye contact with mirio and nejire, but tamaki evaded your line of sight. he simply waved his reply without breaking away from his balls of takoyaki.

luckily for him, you didn’t give his lack of words much thought and started digging into your own lunch. it was then that nejire found it appropriate to start up a conversation.

“y’know, y/n, i’ve been meaning to ask you this, from one girl to another,” she mused, finger waving around playfully, “are you interested in anyone here?”

upon hearing her question, tamaki almost choked on his bonito flakes, his cheeks puffed and eyes blown. meanwhile, your chewing slowed as you gave your answer some thought.

“uh… well–”

“i’d say fujita from class d is quite the looker! think you’d be interested in them?”

after swallowing the food in his mouth, tamaki began to subconsciously listen in on the conversation. he paid close attention to your responses with bated breath, a small part of him anticipating your answer highly.

“fujita’s nice and all, but i don’t think we’d really get along as a couple.”

tamaki mentally sighed, relief evident all over his face. it was then that mirio had started fitting the pieces together after watching his close friend’s brow wrinkle throughout the entire exchange before finally relaxing at your words. crossing his eyes with nejire’s only confirmed his suspicions as the girl sent him a wink.

as a friend, mirio wasn’t about to let nejire’s operations fall flat. getting up from his seat, he motioned tamaki to come with him.

“i heard they have extra yakisoba bread right now! we should go check it out!” he said as a guise to give the other two time to themselves, free from tamaki’s prying ears.

unaware that mirio had caught on so quickly, tamaki didn’t object to tagging along with him. mostly because he thought of this as an opportunity to get some fresh air and calm his racing heart, finally feeling the effects of the blood rushing to his face.

with tamaki supposedly out of earshot, nejire was free to go about her questions however she wanted.

“okay then, if not fujita, then who? there has to be someone, right?” the girl scooted further in her seat out of pure curiosity. “tell me, is it perhaps someone in our class?”

it was your turn to be stricken by her boldness. you tried picking at your food, stuffing it into your mouth to avoid answering, but nejire’s tenacity outmatched you.

finishing your lunch, you opened your mouth to speak, “actually, the person i’m interested in is pretty close to you…”

nejire feigned ignorance, innocently placing a finger under her chin. “who? mirio?”

“ah no, it’s tamaki, alright?!” you ended up blurting, voice hushed but frantic.

bingo. hearing exactly what she wanted, nejire returned to her original position, a triumphant grin plastered on her lips. replaying what you said out loud in your head, you buried your warm face in your hands.

unbeknownst to you, tamaki had ended up hearing the whole exchange around the corner coming back to their table as mirio lightly snickered at his revelation of an expression.

the blond patted his shoulder. “go on then, you know what to do.” he threw tamaki an encouraging thumbs-up.

the boy gulped in response before inhaling a deep breath of air to prepare himself for what would arguably be the most important yet stress-inducing moment of his life so far.

noticing you getting up to discard your tray, tamaki—through a final push from mirio—went to make his move.

hearing him suddenly call out to you, you were caught off-guard. after admitting to your crush on tamaki to nejire, you felt your cheeks get hot just seeing his face right afterward.

“oh hey, did you get your hands on those yakisoba breads?” you scraped up a way to start the conversation.

“right... that… mirio managed to get the last one in the cafeteria,” he answered. then he brought his hand to rub his elbow, fidgeting in his spot as he found it difficult to look you in the eyes again.

“tamaki? something wrong? are you upset that he got the last yakisoba bread?”

he shook his head. “no, i… it’s just… i’ve been meaning to ask you this for a long time now, but never had the courage to say it to you because i didn’t think you ever liked me that way. but…” he finally mustered the determination to face you head-on. “would you go out with me, y/n?”

at first, you were speechless—absent of words as you relayed his request in your mind over and over again. then, your eyes softened, lips easing into a smile as you reached out for his hand.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

TODOROKI SHOUTO

it’s no surprise to many that when it came to asking someone out, todoroki didn’t exactly know the first thing to do.

mostly because he’s never asked anyone out to begin with.

you were the first person he’s ever felt these kinds of emotions for, and to be frank, he wasn’t sure what to make of everything that had been going through him when that root of infatuation had started to bloom inside him.

rather than sulk or contemplate on his thoughts for too long, he surmised it was best to simply come clean and ask for advice.

but when he confessed to what had been on his mind lately, he wasn’t expecting such a vigorous response from his friends.

“i’ve been thinking about asking y/n out.”

there was a layer of uncomfortable silence amongst the group before all hell eventually broke loose.

midoriya, uraraka, and iida immediately sprung from their seats in the common room, yelling “what?!” in unison. tsuyu and her frog-like mannerisms were more idle, but still surprised nonetheless.

todoroki was unfazed by their reactions, actually expecting it to go that way considering he’s never brought up any topics of that nature before. at the very least, he’s thankful he decided to say this when it was just the five of them. compared to what the whole class’s reaction would have been like, this was incredibly tame.

todoroki was used to always listening to what others had to say and never being the subject of the conversation when it came to dating.

but now things were different. he was openly admitting to them that he was regarding someone romantically. that he possibly sought a relationship with this someone—wanting to be committed to them and become the very best person he could be right next to them. to the four, this was coming completely out of left field.

after everyone simmered down and let the news sink in, the dual-haired boy resumed his thought,

“but i’m not sure how to do it.”

though the entirety of the group never had any experiences when it came to dating, they knew enough from media and pop culture to get an idea on how to help him. more than todoroki could imagine on his own anyway.

“i know! how about we go with the romantic and suave approach!” uraraka suggested. the rest asked her to elaborate.

“it’s simple! it starts by you leaving a note on her desk right before class, saying to meet you on the rooftop of the school! before the designated time, you should wait there for her with a bouquet of flowers, and then when she arrives, confess your feelings and ask her out!”

midoriya rubbed a finger against his cheek, skeptical. “i don’t think that sounds as simple as you’re making it out to be.”

tsuyu chimed in beside him. “those kinds of ideas usually only work well in books, ochako.”

pursing her lips, uraraka gave her plan a once-over, and realized it did seem a bit more involved and out of character than what todoroki was used to.

despite sharing a few more ideas with one another, they couldn’t narrow it down to any perfect one.

that was when iida clapped his hand, bringing everyone’s attention to him.

“alright, i think we’re starting to blow this whole ‘operation’ way out of proportion,” he said.

“if you’re honest about the way you feel about her and show it sincerely, i’m sure she’ll consider your feelings. you don’t have to do anything extravagant when it comes to asking someone out.”

listening throughout every word, todoroki nodded. meanwhile the other three were astonished that their class representative could be so whimsical when it came to romance, which in turn, iida was conflicted by. however, at the very least he was glad they could help out a friend. and so, todoroki went about his day with their discussion in mind.

he found that in many occurrences, whenever he crossed by you and thought of it as a chance to ask you out, there would always be someone to come in and take your time away. leaving him to stand there awkwardly before dismissing the fated question for later.

eventually, the sky dimmed and evening arrived, and by then, the whole class was already back at their dormitory and about to have dinner.

through some rather convenient circumstances, you two were actually assigned on kitchen duty that night.

“it’s been getting pretty cold lately so i was thinking we should cook up a hot pot for everyone.” you gave your idea to him as you pulled out some ingredients from the fridge, waiting for his reply, but it came a few seconds later than you were expecting.

“right. sounds like a good idea,” todoroki answered a tad late. upon realizing it was only going to be the two of you making dinner tonight, his mind was occupied by what he and his friends spoke about earlier.

that was when he started overthinking the situation and absentmindedly half-assed his work.

“todoroki, the cut on the tofu is slightly uneven.” you reviewed his cutting board. looking down, he saw the inconsistent slices of tofu limp in front of him. if bakugou were the executive chef for the evening, he would’ve had to hear an earful from him.

“sorry…” he apologized quietly, reaching out for another cube of tofu to cut.

“is everything okay? i know you’re still learning how to cook, but i’ve seen you show some significant improvement on your knife skills recently.” you voiced your concern for him.

the white and red-haired boy stared at the white bean curd while hearing your worried tone and couldn’t find it within himself to continue the task. it was now or never he thought. he laid the knife flat on the cutting board.

“actually, i wanted to ask you something.” he turned toward you. “do you… want to go out with me?”

nothing but the sound of the fire running on the stove could be heard in the kitchen. todoroki didn’t move his eyes away from you, watching you nearly drop the plate of siu choy and shiitake mushrooms out of shock as your mouth was hanging open.

when you caught onto your bearings, you let out a small laugh. “oh… i… wasn’t expecting that,” you admitted honestly, placing the ingredients on the counter safely.

the boy furrowed his brows. “is that a no?”

“n-no! i mean that isn’t my answer! i–” you fumbled with your words, cheeks warming up now that his confession had finally sunk in. in the meantime, todoroki found your reaction quite amusing. the corner of his lip quirked into a grin.

“what i mean to say is that yes, i’d love to go out with you.” you accepted the offer wholeheartedly. todoroki would be lying if his heart wasn’t throbbing from anticipation. he’s glad he’s able to rest and put that aside.

“now let’s continue making this hot pot together!” you cheered, smiling widely and he found comfort in your words before resuming slicing the tofu.

#bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha headcanons #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #tamaki x reader #todoroki x reader #mha x reader #bnha scenarios #mha headcanons #shinsou hitoshi x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha x y/n

[toastedkiwi]

Pearl Ring

Summary: a certain ring on a certain finger has the world believing a Stark is engaged to a Wayne and your father isn’t happy.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Stark!Reader

11:00 EST. Fifth Avenue, New York.

Bruce gave you his right hand. You took it into your left hand as stairs are not your friend especially in heels. He knows it to be a fact as you have fallen down the stairs in his manor. Thankfully, it was just him around and you both got a good laugh over it. Since then, if you’re together and you’re in heels, he’ll give you his hand.

You both deal with the flashes of the cameras and the shouts of the paparazzi as you head to Alfred’s car. He awaits to open the door for you two to slide in once close enough. Bruce had you slid in first while Alfred took the many shopping bags from your hands. The door is shut and you looked at Bruce.

“My dad is gonna be pissed if I’m photographed with you again,” you said with a grin.

Bruce chuckled. Your dad hates him. He can’t stand him especially if he’s near you, his eldest and first born. It’s not at all like Bruce would hurt you purposefully and shit, you know you’re safe with Bruce. You two aren’t even dating. You’re probably the only friend that Bruce can tolerate and understand his grunts or at least not get pissed about it like his kids do. You both just understand each other better than most.

“I’m pretty sure I can handle Ironman,” Bruce said as Alfred got into the driver’s seat.

“I do believe that you would then have the whole Avengers coming after you, Master Bruce,” Alfred said driving off.

“I’m sure I can persuade some to not go after Bruce,” you said. “And I’m sure the kids will come to his aid in battling my father.”

“Oh, I’m more than sure that they’ll watch it all go down with popcorn,” Bruce said.

“I will be too,” you said grinning.

Bruce grabbed your hand and noticed you placed your grandmother’s ring on the wrong hand as you’re talking with Alfred. You always have it on your right hand on the finger in between your pinky and middle finger.

“Give me your other hand,” Bruce said.

You give it to him. He slipped off your ring and you just stopped speaking. You were getting the ring professionally cleaned and so you got the very busy Bruce Wayne to join you in New York to help you kill some time before you could get it back. And you put the ring on your ring finger meant to signify that a person is married or engaged. You aren’t at all and you’ve just been spotted holding hands with the guy you consider to be your best friend and your dad doesn’t approve of him.

“Oh my god, I’m such a dumbass,” you said as he slipped the pearl ring onto the right finger for you.

“You’ll be alright, you dummy,” Bruce said.

You back handed his bicep and said, “you asshole, we were holding hands! They’re gonna think we’re engaged or married!”

He smiled and said, “the boys would be happy and don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

“It’s probably too late already,” you said.

It was. The paparazzi were quick to sell the photos which eventually started the process for news sites/gossip sites to write the story and examine the photos for little details. It would be a nightmare but it’ll be easily cleared up in an interview which you’ll probably have to do.

15:30 EST. Avengers Tower, Manhattan.

“Congrats on your daughter getting engaged, Mr. Stark,” Peter said.

“What? What do you mean?” Tony questioned narrowing his eyes at the poor teenager.

“Oh- uh— ummm, I thought that Y/n and B-Bruce—,” Peter said getting nervous.

“If you say Wayne, you are no longer an Avenger,” Tony growled.

“Why can’t the poor kid say Wayne?” Natasha asked appearing into the hallway.

“Because I hate the Waynes and specifically Bruce Wayne,” Tony said.

“Wow, you’re already hating your future son in law?” Natasha teased and shooed away Peter.

Peter quickly escaped to safety. Natasha pulled one of the breaking news videos on her tablet and showed Tony. Tony is ready to start WWIII and it won’t be a pretty thing.

“Friday! Give the location on my daughter NOW!” Tony yelled.

“Which one, sir?” She asked.

“THE OLDEST!”

“Her phone is turned off,” Friday informed.

“Track Bruce Wayne,” Tony said.

“Seriously, Tony?” Natasha said.

“Y/n always has her phone on,” he said.

“Gotham Academy,” Friday said.

16:30 EST. Gotham Academy, Gotham, NJ.

Bruce and Damian were walking down the stairs at the front of the building. Ironman dropped down in front of them. Damian smirked and Bruce couldn’t be more annoyed. He immediately put a hand in front of his son. It might be for Damian’s protection or Tony’s.

“I didn’t propose to her, Stark,” Bruce said.

“Where is she?!” Tony asked.

“She should be at her apartment in Manhattan,” Bruce said. “Probably taking a nap.”

The nanite helmet came off and Tony has this look on his face that Bruce knows all two well. Damian glared at Tony but Tony can’t be bothered by him. He doesn’t know where you are.

“Did you walk her up?” Tony asked.

“I carried in her shopping bags,” Bruce said. “And then I had to come back to Gotham.”

“Her phone is off and on the counter. I checked. She isn’t there,” Tony said.

22:00 EST. Scarecrow’s Hideout, Gotham, NJ.

“No, Daddy! Please don’t! P-Please don’t kill him!” You cried out.

It freaked Tony out. You’re terrified. You had been kidnapped and dosed with some psychotic. And you keep calling him. You’re begging him not to kill someone but who?

“B-Bruce, d-don’t go,” you whimpered.

Batman pulled out the anti-venom for the fear toxin. He’s hopeful that it’s the most up to date as Scarecrow takes his time to perfect each variant. It should at least dim down your hallucinations.

“What are you doing?!” Tony yelled running to where you and Batman are in the warehouse.

“Get away! B-BRUCE!” You screamed seeing a scary monster with big fangs in front of you. “HELP!”

He injected you with the anti venom into your thigh like an epipen. He hates seeing people close to him go through their worst nightmares. He’s clearly a part of it.

Your dad attacked the Batman while the rest of the team handle the goons as well as Scarecrow. Batman is quick to dodge the attacks as your father is a bit sloppy in his technique.

“I’m trying to help, Tin-Can,” Batman hissed.

Nightwing quickly came to your aid and fought off goons with Black Widow.

-on the quinjet. Not taken off yet.

“Bruce,” you cried for.

“You should call the billionaire,” Natasha suggested.

Tony huffed. However, Batman came aboard. He could careless about the others. You’re calling his name. He crouched down in front of you and took off the cowl in front of you.

“Bruce,” you whispered.

You went into his arms and cried in relief as he held you tightly. The others turned to see that Bruce Wayne is Batman. It’s shocking especially for Tony. He’s always thought so low of Bruce Wayne. He thought Bruce was just like him before becoming ironman. But it all had been a show for Bruce to put on.

“D-Don’t leave me,” you begged Bruce.

“I’m right here,” he said softly.

“I- I— I c-can’t lose you,” you whimpered.

You’re holding onto him so tightly. You don’t want to let go of him. Tony could tell this. Bruce means a lot to you and probably more than your father will know.

“Shhhh, breathe, Honey,” he said.

Bucky came over with a blanket and put it over you. Bruce helped wrapped it around you.

“You should get seated,” Bucky said.

Bruce scooped you up and sat down on the bench.

“You know you look like shit,” Tony said.

Of course he does. He’s bleeding. He’s got bruising on his face. It’s all because of Tony using his metal fists to beat him. He’s only human.

The jet took off to the upstate compound. Bruce kept you close and reassured you that he’s okay and that he has you.

08:00 EST. Avengers Compound, Medbay, New York.

“Hi,” Bruce said when you opened up your eyes.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asked seeing that you’re shaking a little.

You nodded your head looking at him. He’s in a black Avengers issued hoodie. His hair isn’t styled like how it usually is. He’s patched up and makeup isn’t covering his bruises. He’s sitting in a swivel stool right at your bedside.

“You’re really Batman?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said.

You smiled and said, “I knew it.”

Bruce chuckled. He stood up from his seat. He leaned over the bed railing and kissed your forehead.

“Can I go home with you, Mr. Batman?” You asked.

“I don’t think your father would like that,” he said.

“Screw him,” you said jokingly.

“Excuse me?” Tony said walking in with Alfred behind him.

“Master Bruce, I brought you a suit so you can change out of those awful clothes,” Alfred said.

“That is rude,” Tony said.

“My sincerest apologies, I do not care,” Alfred said.

You laughed seeing your dad’s face. Bruce thanked Alfred.

“I’ll be right back, Darling,” Bruce said.

Alfred and him headed off. Alfred went off back to the car while Bruce went into the bathroom to get changed. He put his batsuit in the black suit protector and he covered what bruises he could with makeup. Only the Avengers who went on the rescue mission to get you and Dr. Cho know about his alter ego.

“I still don’t like him,” Tony said.

“That’s a lie,” you said.

“You really like him, don’t you?” your dad asked.

“Yeah, he makes me really happy, Daddy,” you said.

“You know he’s got like 20 kids,” he said.

“So do you,” you sassed. “They just aren’t legally yours and most are fully grown.”

“Maybe we can all go out to dinner or something,” Tony said.

“I’d like that,” you said.

Bruce came into the room and Tony turned his head to see the billionaire fresh faced— no longer sporting any nasty bruises.

“What happened to the bruises?” Tony asked.

“Concealer,” Bruce said simply.

“Your butler brought you makeup?” Tony asked.

“I have a secret identity to protect, Stark,” Bruce said. “And no, he didn’t bring me any. It’s in my belt.”

You laughed and said, “your tool belt is like chick’s purse.”

Bruce smiled at you and said, “the boys would laugh at that.”

“Wait,” you said connecting the dots. “Damian isn’t Robin, is he?”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Bruce said.

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