#either bad or just callously ignorant

[felidaefatigue]

men really gotta stop writing fictional excuses to put "worldy" "older" feminine minds/psyches into childrens bodies just so an old man can fuck them

[bruisedboys]

thinking about hobie brown catching you staring at him … and then just being an absolute menace about it …..

he’s doing something so ordinary, just sitting on the couch, long legs spread in front of him (he manspreads all the time change my mind!!), watching some band play on tv while his fingers tap out the rhythm of the song on his thighs. you’re sitting across the room, supposedly watching tv too, but hobie can feel your eyes on him like two laser beams burning into the side of his head. he keeps his face neutral so you don’t know you’ve been caught until he pipes up,

“do I got somethin’ on my face, doll?” without pulling his eyes away from the tv.

he can sense your embarrassment from all the way across the room. from the corner of his eye he sees you whip your head round to face the tv as if you weren’t just ogling at him shamelessly. he guesses if he was to touch your face right now you’d be hot as a furnace.

“no,” you say weakly, guilty.

hobie laughs, a low teasing chuckle that he knows makes you flustered beyond measure. “really? ‘cos you’re lookin’ at me like’ve grown two heads.”

you stay silent and hobie finally pulls his eyes away from the tv to look at you. he’s rewarded with a very shy-looking you, sitting there with your hands all muddled in your lap and your eyes zeroed in on a patch of floorboard.

hobie grins. “c’mere, babe.”

you look up at him (finally), confused. “what?”

hobie knows you heard him just fine but says it again anyway. “c’mere,” he prompts, patting his thigh. “wanna talk to ya.”

you obey, maybe because you’re really bad at saying no to him. and anyway, hobie can’t talk, he never says no to you, either. you get up and cross the room sheepishly, stopping much too far away from his knees for his liking.

“closer,” he murmurs, lifting his torso off the couch cushions to reach forwards and take you by the hips, pulling you closer so you’re standing in between his legs.

hobie keeps his hands on your hips while you stare at a rip in his jeans and don’t say a word. hobie doesn’t mind. at least now you’re close enough he can see your pretty face clearly.

he sits up straight, almost eye height with you now, even though you’re standing and he’s sitting. he removes his hands from your hips in favour of your face, palms cupping your cheeks. he drags his thumbs under your eyes, your skin soft under his guitar-induced callouses.

“you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, cos you are, and he wants you to know he’d stare at you for hours if he thought you could take the attention.

you make an embarrassed sort of noise that makes hobie laugh. you’re adorable. he needs you closer immediately.

without giving you any warning he hooks one hand underneath your thigh and pulls. you fall not so gracefully into his lap, your weight pressed against him, almost chest to chest. you squeal at the sudden change in position. hobie just smiles, satisfied.

“hobie!” you gasp.

hobie ignores your scolding, if you can even call it that.

“that’s better,” he says, using one ringed finger to trace your jaw. he ends at your chin and hooks his finger under it to get you to look him in the eye. you’ve visibly melted under his touch, your body lax on top of his, eyelids fluttering, and it’s so lovely hobie almost regrets what he says next. “now, you wanna tell me why you were starin’ so hard, love?”

you groan and drop your forehead to his shoulder, hands gripping his waist for dear life as if that will save you from his teasing. it won’t. but hobie knows you don’t really mind it as much as you let on.

[baeshijima]

— perfect

your parents believed you were destined for each other, though it would seem they hadn't taken into account your differing ideals.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 1.2k wc, fluff, arranged!marriage au, basically arranged partners-to-strangers-to-lovers, jing yuan in denial until he can... no longer deny it

A/N : this was supposed to be a one paragraph brainrot. what happened.

when you first heard of your prospective marriage partner, you didn't feel all that much for him. granted, there was only so much you could feel when listening to your parents ramble on. he was supposedly the son of a family friend — the ones who served the realm-keeping commission. he was set to graduate the academy in a few months, but that's all you really paid attention to before tuning out.

it wasn't long when you finally met, and you soon discovered you didn't mind him as much as you'd thought. well, that was until you took note of the clear lack of interest he held for you (for anything since you saw him, for that matter). he was aloof, never speaking more than a couple words before turning away and focusing on something else. with the boundaries clear alongside his lack of interest, you decided it wasn't worth the effort. your parents will just have to deal with it.

the next you heard of him was a few months later, the day after his graduation. apparently, he had enlisted into the cloud knights and was now part of their ranks.

your parents called it rebellious, you called it escaping his fate.

you don't see nor hear from him for a couple of years, instead finding out his achievements through gossipmongers and the occasional exaggerated tales you hear on your strolls. at least he's out there making a name for himself and doing what he loves, free and unshackled at the hands of fate.

he bumps into you when he's on patrol on the luofu, and at first he thinks it to be you trying to reach out again, only to be stumped at the uninterested — dare he say, annoyed — look you give him before stalking away in the opposite direction. but he shrugs it off thinking you had a bad day, returning to his duties in maintaining the peace of the luofu.

he runs into you again when you're out food shopping. it's a complete and utter coincidence you're both in the same place once more; you out on errands while he is on duty. oddly enough, he's doused in a wave of peace and content from just watching you from afar, the knowledge that he is capable of protecting you has him prouder than he'd like to admit.

that doesn't last for long, however, for you suddenly shift in place, your expression now more clear than it was earlier. jing yuan's heart stops then, plummeting into an abysmal pit as his eyes zero in on the new expression. your smile is far more beautiful than anything he could ever hope to imagine.

(in a trance, he wonders if you would ever direct that smile towards him.)

it's not until a little later he finds himself wondering about how you're faring, having half the mind to reach out through a letter before ultimately scrapping the idea. after all, he has to focus on his training, not over his arranged partner who probably doesn't even want him after that stunt he pulled all those years ago (he wouldn't either, if he were in your shoes).

and so he ignores the ache in his heart when he spots you from his peripherals. he ignores the urge to abandon his post and remove the bags from your grip and transfer them into his own. he ignores the desire to have a proper conversation with you, one that doesn't result in him being tongue-tied and you annoyed. he ignores the desperation surging through his nerves to hold your hand in front of everyone, wondering what your skin would feel like against his calloused palms.

he ignores it all, and he ignores it well.

so why is it now he finds himself breaking into a sprint after catching a glimpse of your side profile, ignoring the calls of his fellow knights in fear of losing you — the chance to finally speak to you and settle this once and for all because screw it. screw his hesitation, screw his yearning — screw it all!

when he finally reaches you he's at a loss, the words which once seemed so clear in his mind now fizzled out on the tip of his tongue. it's laughable, really, how he's praised for being quick-witted and yet he's reduced to nothing but a gaping mess in your presence. so he just stares at you with a heaving chest, your furrowed countenance making his heart stutter more than it really should.

it's not until you turn to leave that he panics, latching onto your wrist in a last-ditch attempt as a strangled "wait!" flies past his lips. you don't recoil from his touch, so he supposes that's a good thing, even if your glare is anything but that.

"i... i want to apologise for how we started off," he stutters, tripping over his words as he lays himself bare, exposing his heart for you to judge; for you to determine whether he is worthy enough to be by your side. there's so much more for him to say — so much more he wants, no, needs to get off his chest before you slip away yet again.

should he start off with how he could only speak a couple of words when you first met because he feared stumbling over his words and making a fool of himself? or should he say he wanted to build up his courage before facing you, and that part of his reasoning to join the knights was in hopes of finding that? (although it was a bit of a belated realisation, but no one's keeping track!) oh, or should he start off with—

"is that all you have to say?" your voice is smoother than he last remembers, though maybe it's the fact he's only ever heard you speak directly to him a couple of times, having heard your voice when on patrol more than he has face to face. if it weren't for you clearing your throat, jing yuan would have forgotten to answer.

he quickly snaps himself out of his trance, pushing down the embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. "if it's alright with you, would you..." he gulps in apprehension, chest constricting as he fumbles to regather his thoughts. he sucks in a breath and lifts his head to meet your gaze, revelling in your slightly widening eyes. "if it's alright with you, would you like to start over again?"

silence ripples between you after his words. can you hear his heart hammering behind his sternum? can you see his breaths quicken in anticipation? can you feel his hand become unbearably warm against the skin of your wrist?

oh god he hopes not.

but then your voice ceases his thoughts, your amused smile doing little to help his above mentioned symptoms. "i'm [name]. it's nice to meet you," your voice trails off a little, and he doesn't bother hiding the growing smile when he realises what you're doing.

and so he eagerly plays along, losing himself in the warmth you provide when you slip your hand into his.

"i am jing yuan. and... likewise, [name]."

(jing yuan decides the sensation of your skin against his calloused palms is unlike anything he's felt before. if he had to put it into words, he would say it's perfect.)

if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33

[oceanreveuse]

CIRCE !!!! look at ur megamind omgomgomg i got so excited looking through the prompts eeeeeeeks . . . . if your event is still open , wld u perhaps be so kind to do an wriothesley x reader . . with hybrid dom wolf!wrio + sub puppy!reader ? (⊃‿⊂) (⊃‿⊂) (⊃‿⊂) eheheeeee crawls out of ur inbox silently but not without giving u a goodbye forehead kissie ily i hope october is kind :< ♡ !!!!

𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗥𝗘𝗔���𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝘄𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳, 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗹𝗲𝘆.

◟dom!wrio, sub!reader, fem!reader, hybrids au, slight brat taming, wolf!wrio, puppy!reader, a little dumbification hinted, deepthroating & face fucking, petnames (pup, darling), dacryphilia?, reader is in a skirt, not proofread rn, messy canine lovin' ! ◟anastasia's footnote : miss yingie !! ueueue thank u for this req omg hims.. hims !! wrio girlies always think alike huh >3< this ended up waaaaaay longer than intended eek !! | graveyard of the siren event

the fortress is always filled with some sort of chill and heating is sparse, leaving residents of the fortress of meropide to get by on their own body heat. WRIOTHESLEY is well aware as a puppy that this is easier said than done with your little wagging tail and floppy ears that can't hold themselves up so he sees it upon himself to assist during the harsh fontaine winters. as the big, bad, 'scary' (he could almost laugh humourlessly) wolf of the fortress, wriothesley sees you as his responsibility.

mechanical clinks of cogs turning and machinery turning echo throughout the metal walls of the fortress, all the way to the administrative zone where wriothesley's thick walled office sits. the soundproofing drowns out the industrial sounds just a little but more importantly, it drowns out your pathetic cries and whimpers when the duke doesn't drop everything to give you attention.

"wriooo~" you whine, tucked nicely under his desk with a woven blanket over your body - your favourite spot to curl up, a flustered cheek pushed up against his calf. occasionally wriothesley would run a large calloused hand over your hair, soothing the strands or curls on your head to the rhymic beat of that little puppy tail thumping against the cold metal floor you'd long forgot about when the duke had brought you a plush cushion for you to sit on - something about your knees? you weren't really too sure, you were just glad that the wolf was okay with you being so clingy.

sometimes.

sometimes the wolf was okay with you being clingy.

wriothesley understood that the dumb little head on your shoulders couldn't comprehend the idea of personal space, he'd long came to terms with that when he'd taken you under his tail, sharp teeth bared at the predator hybrids circling you like you were weak prey but archons... oh archons... he wished you understood sometimes. your small hands paw at his legs, almost wanting to dig those claw-like nails into the fabric of his pants as you let out yet another whine.

he could take the time to play with your soft floppy ears and the hair on your head so why couldn't he spare you even a glance? what was so interesting on all that paperwork that he'd growl when you got too handsy? puffing out your cheeks, you nuzzle against his thick thigh once again, brushing your nose against the musky scent on the fabric. his heavy boot taps the floor once in warning - you're getting too bold, too desperate for a fraction of attention.

it only serves to fuel your needs, your tail thumping against his desk as you shift on your knees, closer to a spot between his boots, wriothesley all too aware of you. in fact the wolf is hyperaware, icy eyes flitting down to your spot under his desk periodically when you're not catching his warnings; you're not catching them or you're blatantly ignoring them, either way he's already settling with the idea of teaching you to heed these warnings in his head.

"pup, i'm working," he states firmly, his voice a little raspy from the way you're pawing your way ever higher to the growing bulge in his pants. he's certain you're aware of it and he can't stop the burning feeling in his abdomen when your pretty eyes blink up at him so innocently, "later, okay?"

"now," you whimper, jutting out your lower lip as wriothesley's tail straightens, freezing in place from its idle swaying. it's like that one word set off a blaze in him, just how untamed was you? perhaps it was his influence as a wolf on you, he'd truly been treating you like a wolf pup and not some pampered domesticated dog.

the rough pads of wriothesley's fingers dig into your hair, the handful he grabs gentle despite the feral urge in him tearing at his skin. he tilts your head back, icy blue eyes fighting to not soften in light of those puppy dog eyes, staring at him so needily with that pout. he can't keep letting you get away with this behaviour, you're too spoiled and wriothesley's jaw tightens as he debates whether to scold you now or later.

the warm palm of your hand falls flat against wriothesley's now prominent bulge and a sharp intake of breath comes from the high and mighty duke of the fortress, tugging on your hair as his other large hand comes to grip your chin, "you want some attention that much? too bad, you've gotta learn your lesson. i've been way too soft with you, pup."

with the confused look on your sweet face, the tense air of the office is cut open by the clinking of wriothesley's belt unbuckling, a little incoherently when he attempts it one handed to keep his hand in your hair. he shoots a wary glance at the stairs of his office but any semblance of a doubtful thought is shattered when you press a kiss to his hard length through the cloth of his boxers.

your fingertips are cold, almost as icy as the cryo vision hanging on the shoulder of the duke's cape when they tuck into the waistband of his boxers, easing the fabric down those beefy thighs and for a moment he has to process, the cogs turning his head as his cock springs free and there's a delightful, excited look about your eyes. he's letting you do what you want again, easing you into the idea that you're getting exactly what you want until he can flip the coin. you'll learn, he'll make sure you'll learn.

wriothesley watches intently as the wet warmth of your tongue drags up the vein on the underside of his cock, a surprisingly sharp intake of breath slipping through his cracked lips. he can't take his eyes off the sight even if he knows he should, his fingers gripping the paperwork in his hold just a little tighter but it's enticing to see such a sweet puppy eager to please, for one chance to wrap her lips around him and god, does he know it.

puppy dog eyes stare straight up at him as you take inch by inch of his cock into your mouth, down that tight throat of yours that almost teases him for what you have hidden away under that pleated skirt he brought you on your last trip to the surface. just when you think you're the boss, the top dog of the office for just a moment, wriothesley's hand in your hair tugs hard, pushing your nose in the dark curls of hair at the base of his length.

you let out a muffled whimper, whining as your hands paw at his legs, trying to push your head back for any chance to breathe in air that isn't his signature scent you adore so bad. wriothesley has to take a moment, his broad back slightly arched off his chair as he groans and his head falls back, dark grey wolf ears standing at attention when the duke resists the urge to roll his pelvis against your mouth until his cock hits the back of your throat.

"you wanted this, didn't you, pup?" he mutters, cocking his head to the side as he observes how the corners of your eyes are glassy, your ears pressed to your head so much it's almost pitiful, "you have to learn to keep your paws to yourself."

a few painful - for him - moments go by before he caves in, rocking his hips to press any more of his length into your mouth. he's almost waited for you to tap out, the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks but you don't despite everything - in fact, your tail may not be wagging as much as it was but wriothesley's pointed ears still pick up the slightest thud against the floor that most definitely isn't a recurrent noise of the fortress he'd adjusted to.

you're enjoying this, the power shift that wriothesley looms over your head when he knows you won't fight back. he cannot deny that you've taken everything he's given you without a complaint - minus your brattiest moments - with everything being locked under a safe word. this was supposed to be a lesson, to silence the brat in you but the wolf can already see the sparks in your half-lidded eyes, planning another way to get on his nerves and end up in this precarious situation again.

"archons, you're insatiable," wriothesley growls, sharp canines poking at his lower lip when your tongue laps at his cock sat happily in your wide mouth, your jaw unclenched and open for him, "just look at you, darling. you don't know when to quit."

his grip on you is that of a puppeteer, controlling your movement as he pulls your head off slightly, leaving you to suck on his tip and withdrawing a sharp hiss from the wolf. he's keening, falling victim to those little puppy whimpers and the way your eyes are so round and full of glittering tears. it's so hard to tame you when you're so irresistible compared to the workers of the fortress, those roughed up species paying for their crimes deep beneath the water's surface.

drool begins to bubble at the corners of your mouth with every thrust forward into your throat the wolf gives, his hips stuttering because he's struggling to last longer than five minutes when your sloppy gags and moans are echoing in the otherwise silent of atmosphere of his office. he's close to scrunching that damn paperwork up, archons he really is because the longer this goes on for, teetering on the edge of spilling his worth into your waiting mouth, he's starting to question why he wasn't doing this in the first place. how dare that paperwork even get into his head the way it had when there's such a willing pup at his feet, at his beck and call?

it happens every time, rinse and repeat. you'll never learn your lesson and frankly, neither will he.

© oceanreveuse 2024 | reblogs appreciated | do not repost, steal, translate, etc. on any social media platform & do not feed to ai.

◟ the waves call for . . . @kokonoiis, @tetsuskei, @ryuryuryuyurboat

[ the magazine is affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum ]

[jar0fhoney]

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 (NSFW) / PART 4 /

PART 5 (NSFW)

“What was he talking about? With you and your mother? And the Farm?”

You didn't like talking about it. You had been perfectly content with avoiding that reality until either your mind or your body gave out. Unfortunately, you had a primal will to live like all humans do. Despite how bad you wanted to, giving up was never going to be an option.

"Dad left us two years ago. There was something wrong with him. Now it's just me and mom and it's getting harder for her to work the fields and if we aren't prepared for winter Milo is gonna let us starve or freeze which ever gets us first and I'm having that dream about dad again and- and- URGH!"

You couldn't stop the word vomit flowing from your mouth. Your rant stumbled into an animalistic growl. You just wanted to run and never stop. Run until your feet wore down to the bone.

He kept glancing down at the red marks on your neck, and then back up at you with his big brown doe eyes. Gods, he was so pretty. “May I?” He walked over to you slowly, and you tilted your neck to give him a view. You felt your heart skip a beat when he brought his hand up to gently thumb over your skin.

“I know you don't need my pity. And I know you don't need my help.” He motioned for you to tilt your head to the other side. He didn’t smile or laugh the situation off, just continued running a very delicate thumb over the marks, “But can I ask a favor, y/n?” He looked down at you through your pretty lashes. You gave a little nod.

“From now on. Do not hesitate to ask anything of me. I want to court you… formally. If you will accept me.”

You looked into his eyes, slightly stunned.

“I’ve done a horrible job at courting you. You’re going to teach me to read. You made the eggs. And this whole time you've been... suffering. There's so much that you deserve-”

“You saw an opportunity where I could be making more money, and you helped me get there. I feel like you... respect me. Milo never respected me.”

It took you standing on your toes to connect your lips with his. He was so much taller. You used his shoulders to steady yourself, lowering back onto your feet. Both of your faces were flushed at such an innocent kiss. He leaned down and nudged his face into your neck, you sighed at the feeling of his tusks nudging against your jaw.

“Y/n…” He chuckled your name into the crook of your neck, “I’m gonna hafta’ teach you how to have higher standards, if that bastard is your only experience with courtship.” He peppered soft kisses over the marks on your neck. You accidentally let out a breathy moan at the sensation. He pulled you closer to him. You started to let your fingers wander over his torso. “No…” He stopped your hands as they grazed his lower stomach. Your face grew scarlet red with embarrassment “I- I’m sorry-”

He pulled you into a deep kiss before pulling away. “Not here. Not now. I want to meet your mother first.”

“Quite traditional, are we?” You smirked. He gave a bemused expression, "I'm going to court you the same way orcs have courted since the beginning of time. I’m serious about this." Your heart fluttered.

“Come to our home on Sunday, Khargaad. We can start our lessons, and you can meet my mother.” You took his huge hand into yours, running a thumb over his calloused knuckles. He still couldn’t believe his luck, that this was happening. This lovely little human was giving him a chance… even after completely embarrassing himself at his first courting attempts. You were so smart, so generous, so capable. A mate that he could depend on to have his back, and him yours.

He had been trying to ignore that word that had been floating through his thoughts. “Mate.” He would have to be careful with that one. He would never want you to feel like you were being claimed without your expressed agreement.

-

He offered to walk you home, lending his arm for support on the dark cobbled road. When you made it inside, you watched him walk away until he completely disappeared into the darkness.

“Who was that, y/n?”

You swore your soul levitated right out of your body. The sound of a match striking came from the little dining table on the other end of the room. The cheeky face of your mother became illuminated in the warm glow of a candle. “Ugh- Ma, you scared the shit outta me.”

“When were you going to tell me about your new friend, y/n?”

You stared at her with a stupid look on your face. “What do- What do you mean?”

She settled back into her chair, the corner of her mouth lifting into a little smirk.

“Who’s the orc?”

Your mother spent a lot of time praying. She prayed for your sisters, and she prayed for the vegetables to grow big and juicy. She prayed for her knees to stop aching and the leak in the roof to fix itself.

But when you weren’t home, she whispered a prayer for you with fervor. She wanted you to find someone. She wanted you to find someone that would treat you right. But most of all she prayed that she wasn’t the reason you were sticking around this place. This god-awful place and that god-awful town. She saw your father’s poison everywhere, seeped into every crevice.

“I’m teaching him how to read.”

“Oh?”

“And so he’s coming here on Sunday. And… he wanted to meet you.”

“Oh!”

She probably would've started weeping with happiness if she wasn’t already plotting out your future together in her head. “Stop doing that, Ma…” You jolted her from her thoughts. 

“Stop doing what?”

“Getting ahead of yourself.” You smirked at her, slinking into your bedroom. Sleep came quick for you that night.

And for the first time in a long while, you didn't have that dream about your father.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once again, I cannot believe so many of y'all are enjoying my silly little story <3 It means so much to me. I ended up restarting this chapter several times cause I was just so stumped, but I'm pretty happy with what I ended up with.

(Note: Do not fear, the slow burn will pay off next chapter iykwim >:3)

@reads-stuff-quietly @loo-looland @sluttygirl123 @beaniebaneenie @blushycadaver @sunndust @whyiamadegenerate @the-attic-of-porcelain @freakyotaku059-blog @youknowits-derea @thoughts-of-bear-undercovers @allthecraftandthings @gruffle1 @kennedyabraxas123 @queenies1x1 @jellyslimesofficial @jasminedragoon @rangoismyname @the-queen-of-sorrows @the-dumber-scaramouche @heddaloddafun @swimmingrascalbatdragon @hellodollstuff @wingedghostpepper @pistachioinfernal

[creedslove]

HIS ✨

Post outbreak QZ era!Joel Miller x f!reader

DRABBLE ✨

Warnings: mentions of sex, kind of explicit really, idk I am horny tbh

A/N: idk besties, not my best but not my worst either 🤷‍♀️

619 words

That apartment in the QZ was disgusting, just like the rest of the world was; everything was dark, filthy and hopeless, but none of that seemed to matter when you were being pounded by Joel in that thin, old, uncomfortable mattress. Nothing mattered, as long as he had his arms holding you by your sides, moving them up from your hips until they got to your neck, he never squeezed it, but he held you in place, while his free calloused rough hand traveled from your back to your hair, tangling itself between your strands, a caress almost sweet amongst the explicit and obscene private show you two had going on there. The way he thrusted hard against your hips, his cock reaching even further into your slippery muscles, how you welcomed his size, squeezing him in a way that would earn you some of his grunts and quiet moans.

You were able to ignore all the ugliness around the two of you, it didn't matter if you caught the flash of FEDRA’s light reflector through the window, or if you heard someone screaming in horror or begging for help, at that moment, there were only two people in the world: you and Joel.

And during those moments, the world wasn't such a bad place, it was quite good because of you had him, that beastly of a man, that untamed and bitter guy who wouldn't open up to you, who would always keep himself a mystery, threatening and kicking and punching his way through life, or whatever was left of it. You would probably never admit it out loud how much you like Joel, and how many times you'd close your eyes and pretend you two were meant to be. How many times you'd wish relationships were still something that could work, that being attached to someone wasn't the stupidest idea one could possibly have. But at that moment he was yours, his body belonged to yours and whenever you felt his hot load inside, you felt complete. Smiling at him, all you could do was reach for a kiss, and Joel knew damn well how dangerous that was. Your affair had lasted far too long, he always went after you, meaning to break things up, with the intention to remind you that the world was meant for survival and only that, he always wanted to make you see you were way too young for him, too pretty, too good. There was still something good inside of you, there was still hope. Not for Joel, he was a bad man, he didn't understand why you were so fixated on him, and yet, whenever he saw you, your lips, your body, he couldn't resist you. He ended up night after night with you all over his bed, your scent being the only good thing around that horrible place he lived in but refused to call home.

“Mm Joel… that was amazing” your voice was a sweet purr as he felt your curling up into his chest, the way your lips gently placed themselves over his heart made him feel shivers down his spine. It was wrong, he didn't want that, he didn't agree with it, he knew the right thing would be over it as soon as possible, but he just couldn't resist you. You belonged to him, you were the only pretty thing he had in his life, maybe, and just maybe you were worthy all of it.

“Sleep baby girl, just sleep” he kissed your forehead and wrapped his arm around your body, pulling you closer and enjoying the calmness he found in you. You were the only thing that actually resembled happiness in that shitty apartment.

____

[tumblerlove]

Simon coming home after deployment all pent up after mistake after mistake on the field, needing some kind of release and it turning rough ROUGH.

also hiii

Oooo yes, thank you. This hits the spot in my brain 👌🏻 and hi babe 😘 hopefully this lives up to whatever you were picturing. Let me know if you like it...

Simons finally going home from a deployment that couldn't have gone fucking worse. The entire mission went to shit. The plane ride home and even the car ride he kept replaying it all

He missed you the entire time, which is nothing new, but this time it was so bad. The team didn't help either. Everyone was pressing eachothers buttons and made a critical mistake during the mission. Then, to make matters worse, the location they were at had no service to make calls to you

He hadn't even taken his gear off when getting off the plane when they landed on base. He just went straight to his car, ignoring everyone. Not giving two shits about it. Just needing to get home to you

He doesn't want to bring home his anger and frustration to you and bring work home. He tries to always separate the two. He doesn't like you seeing him as Ghost...only Simon

He gets home and unlocks the door and notices the house is quiet and dark. He walks to the bedroom, assuming you're asleep, but when he walks in you're awake in bed reading

"Oh my god, Simon...I didn't hear you," you yell, startled and jump off the bed running towards him. "I thought you were asleep," he replies, his tone different than it would usually be when he came home. "Is everything alright Si...did something happen?" You ask him while he steps out of your hug far too quickly, not even kissing you yet

"Fuck" he grunts while removing his heavy gear finally just down to his boxers "Everything went to fuckin hell...all of it" he's pretty upset which he never is once he's home with you. It was just this mission was bad. He didn't mean to bring it home to you

"I'm sorry, Simon," you walk up to him while he sits on the edge of bed standing in between his legs. You start combing his hair with your fingers, thinking of how to help him

"It's not your fault, lovie. I'm sorry for bringing it back home." he looks up at you, his hands at your waist. "I have an idea for your frustration to go away if you want, Si." You look at him as you crawl into his lap and straddle him

"I'm listening." he smiles at you finally while kissing up and down his neck. You tell him simply "Use me," and he's flipping you both over. "You want me to use you, love?" he looks at you all of sudden like your prey he caught

"Take your frustrations out on me...I don't care," you say to him, a little shaky, losing your confidence staring at him above you

"I'm not going to be gentle like I usually am when I come home" he tells you, "I'm telling you now if you dont want too" His cock is already hard pressing into your stomach eager for you

You know he needs this release, and honestly, you want him to be rough with you. You want to see him unhinged a little bit. Your finger starts toying with the band of his boxers as you say, "I don't want you to be gentle." He crashes his lips into yours, finally kissing you. "Remember that you asked for it, love," Simon smiles while moving down your neck, leaving hickies behind

He's pawing at you with his rough calloused hands going underneath your shirt taking it off of you. His mouth latches onto your nipple licking at it. "Uh fuck" you gasp out at the sudden sensation. He's going back and forth between your breasts giving them equal attention. He bites your nipple making you squeal out from the painful sensation. While his hand pinches the other one

His movements are quick and rough a big contrast to how he usually is with you...it feels so different and so good

He rocks his cock against your clothed cunt creating just a little bit of friction. "Take my cock out" he grunts out to you. You reach down and start helping him get out of his boxers. His cock is already hard and leaking pre-cum from his red tip

He slides your panties to the side while he rubs up and down your slit his tip hitting your clit as he went up "Next time I'm gone...I'm taking these exact panties to remember this" Simon says his breath getting heavier after having a feel of your wet pussy

You gasp out when he yanks down your panties, finally leaving you both bare. "Shit, Si," you say, looking at his eyes that are filled with lust. His hands grab your waist flipping you onto your hands and knees bearing yourself fully to him "I've missed this pussy... my pussy" he murmurs into your back kissing down your spine

His tip is teasing your entrance "Simon...please just fuck me" you plead with him just wanting to feel him fill you up. "I'll fuck you when I feel like it" his tone rough before he smacks your ass making you moan and clench around nothing

"Ohhh you like that huh honey...I can see your cunt dripping for me" Simon's voice and actions are rough, teasing and playful. "Please Si please" you're almost at tears

"Oh, just cause you asked so nicely lovie," he says before he pushes into you finally. "Fuck I've missed you" Simon blurts out once he's buried fully into your cunt. "I've mis...missed you, Simon." Your breath hitching with every deep thrust he makes

Your ass is jiggling against his thighs with each stroke he takes, inching you both up the bed with his speed and force. His hands perfectly molded into your hips, guiding you back to fuck you forward

Your face ends up in the mattress, muting your moans. Simon's hand goes to the nape of your neck, pulling your face up, kissing your neck, saying, "It's been too long since I've heard your moans... let me hear them."

His words alone make you moan, his voice is grity and hoarse. His thrusts are getting sloppier, too. He's holding onto your body like his life depends on it. You can feel the heat and sweat sticking to you, too

The sounds of you of moaning, with Simon's grunting and curses and the wet sounds your cunt and his dick are making...it's all so much and so good

He pulls out of you causing you to whine. "Why, why did you stop?" You ask him, trying to scoot back towards his cock. He slaps your ass making your gasp from the sting. "As much as I love seeing your ass..." Simon says while he massages the sting. "Id rather see your face now" his voice sounding desperate like yours with the need to cum

He's moving you onto you back, hovering over you again. Simon's kissing you and groaning into your mouth as he slides his cock back into your cunt. Moans are coming out of both of you as Simon moves your legs on his shoulders, reaching a new angle making your eyes cross behind closed eyes

"Look at me when you cum" Simon's hand moves from holding your leg up to cupping your face. "I wanna see you drip on my cock" his tone serious as if he has to see you cum or else. He sneaks his hand down your body rubbing firm circles around your clit. "Don't stop... don't stop," you plead to him, feeling your orgasm approaching clenching around his cock

"Fuck I won't I won't" Simon's grunts out as his cock starts throbbing ready to cum inside you after such a long time away. "Come on love cum" he locks eyes with you, watching as you come apart underneath him

Simon's cumming almost immediately feeling your walls clench down on him and how much wetter you got. He's groaning into the side of your neck his body weight like a blanket on you. He's rubbing your clit until your both completely done cumming and your squirming from the overstimulation

You're both panting, looking at each other, trying to come back down from earth. "Thank you," he kisses you gently. You look at him and can see he's more relaxed than when he first got home

"It worked then?" You smile at him as he pulls out of you, causing you both to groan. He wraps his arms around you like a cocoon as he says, "I'm not sure maybe a little bit...we're just gonna have to go again," he smirks as you laugh and say "Oh I think someone's fine now" as he starts tickling your sides laughing at your squeals...yeah he's fine now

[shaunashipman]

When they say Oliver is so disgusted you can see it in his face all I read is that they think this man is so unprofessional that he can’t read his lines and act? Like idk but I don’t think he’s taking a stand again a light hearted daddy joke bc at the end of the day it’s his job. If he can say he’s an ally ✊without breaking the fourth wall I think he can make silly eyes even if it kills him lmfao. I remember when the episode aired and I hadn’t blocked most people yet I saw somebody gif bucks face after Tommy made the hospital wing joke and say Oliver hates the scene he can’t even hold it in when the whole point of him acting like that was so Tommy could catch on that he was upset and ask him if he’s ok. I’m willing to engage in anti bucktommy/tommy takes in good faith bc I love reading all sides of things but some of these have me so confused 😭

no nonny, you don't understand, oliver is supposed to be showing that buck is subtly disgusted by tommy, it's intentional because............

yeah I don't understand it. how exactly does it work it their head? they insist that buck is put off and put down by tommy, that he is disappointed by tommy, that he is disgusted by tommy. so why is buck staying with him? it's not even like with taylor in s5, where he was clearly in a bad place, his fear of losing ppl was coming true with maddie and chimney gone and chimney angry with him, with Eddie going through a slow breakdown, so he clutched at taylor so he didn't lose someone else, passed the point of him being unhappy, all the way to him cheating and then trapping her. bad story, didn't like it, but it makes sense emotionally.

this bullshit "theory" they're running with simply does not make sense. buck is in a good place, he wasn't shown questioning his place anywhere at the start of the season, all of his friends and family are doing good (up to the last episode and a half), and though he broke up with natalia, he did it for perfectly normal reasons, no one had to be the bad guy, they just weren't compatible, and there's nothing to suggest it wasn't an amicable or at least neutral break-up, showing growth in the relationship and ending there of department.

so why would he have a problem ending it with tommy, or you know, just not calling him for coffee after tommy so callously abandoned him to fend for himself in the scary wilds of downtown L.A? unless you just ignore all the growth he's had, there is no reason buck would stay with someone who made him as unhappy as they claim

and how does this go with buck having feelings for eddie? either he doesn't know it yet and is transferring his feelings to tommy, because this man who treats buck so terribly is just so similar to eddie (huh?), or he does know it and? is staying? with tommy? anyway?

literally no part of it makes sense. not from a story-telling perspective and not from a character perspective.

(and yeah, i remember after the ep aired they were using a shot of buck from earlier in the date or from when he was talking to eddie at the beginning to try and say he was uncomfortable. and when called out their response was basically "what's your point")

[k-n0-x]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Sandy dunesˏˋ°•*⁀➷

A/N: HI GUYS SORRY FOR BEING SOOOO INACTIVE. @lucifers-personal-cum-dump GAVE ME A REQUEST A VERY LONG WHILE AGO AND NOW IT’S FINISHED RAAAAAH

ˏˋ°•⁀➷ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“Are you ready to go now sweet pea?” Lucifer knocks on the bathroom door, and you open it.

“Yeah, just give me a second!” You reply as you apply hellcream on your front, arms and face.

“Can you help me put some on my back?” 

Today was the hottest day in Hell, so Lucifer and yourself decided to spend the day on Hell’s “best” beaches.

“Of course,” You ignored his smug tone as he spread the sun blocker with his palms. 

Him being the King of Hell, he is very much inured to the death  rays of the hellish sun that burned the sinners.

“You know~” His delicate hands trace towards the scars just below your lower chest.

“We can have our own fun day inside,” 

You ponder for a few moments, not understanding  his innuendo.

“Nah, we should go out. You have not gone outside in a while. Besides-” you put your hands on either side of his face.

“It’s a good opportunity for bonding time,” 

He sighs into the warmth of your hands.

“Alright, if you insist”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥໒꒱🌱⠈⠂⠄ ‹𝟹 🚞〃 ˝˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

“See Lulu, ain’t too bad, right?” You gaze on the sultry red sand beneath your feet, and then to the lapping teal waves.

“You got that right,” he replies, but he wasn’t looking at the scenery.

“Come onn, knock it out!” You bump into his side, grinning all the same. 

Something catches your interest from the corner of your eye.

“Ooooh, Surf boards! I’m going to get one, okay babe?” 

“Alright. Don’t take too long, okay?” Lucifer stands on his tiptoes and pecks the nape of your neck, a comical sight, you towering over the King of Hell.

“Don’t worry, I won’t!” You tredge to the stall which is selling surfboards.

The dinky booth was unoccupied, with a vandalised sign, and one of the surf boards were snapped in half.

You lean over the countertop and scrummage around for one that is in decent edition, when a calloused hand snaps to your shoulder.

“‘Ey,” 

You turn around and quickly produce an apology.

“Oh! Sorry I didn’t realise that this was your stall- I was planning to put it back when I’m done I promise!” You wince. This was gonna be roug-

“Nono, it’s nothing, really. You can keep the board,” The voice rumbles from the thuggish broad demon.

“Woah really? Thank you!” Score!

“It’s no problem. You’re quite the smokeshow,” 

“Aw thanks! You don’t look too bad yourself,” You smile at the big fella leering at you.

“Say, how about we blow this joint and go somewhere else?” 

“I think not buddy!” Lucifer’s voice rings in your ears.

“Huh? Oh, hi LuLu. This guy wants to hang out with us! I hope you don’t mind?” 

The Demon King’s nostrils flare.

“I’m pretty sure this guy wants more than ‘to hang’ out with us. So, yes, I do mind quite a bit,” 

“Oh uhh, on second thought, I have somewhere to be,” your heart drips in embarrassment as the sinner turns and dead runs the other way in fear of being in the presence of Lucifer Morningstar. 

Lucifer starts to ramble after seeing your sullen expression.

“Hey don’t look so down. I- I actually have something planned for us, which is uhhh-” he looks at his wrist, like there was a watch telling him the time.

“In about five minutes!” 

You squint your eyes at his sheepish grin.

“And how come you didn’t tell me this? I would’ve brought more suitable attire,” You retort, earning yourself at the sight of him flushing an embarrassing shade of red. 

“Well, uh…. I wanted it to be a surprise?” His display of improv is impressive.

Nonetheless, you kick the sand beneath you both.

“I wanted to go surfing though,” you sigh dejectedly.

Your sullen face was too much for your darling Luci to bear.

“Oh- don’t worry, you can! We can basically go anytime we want! Besides, I’m great at squeezing things in~”

“Okay buddy,” you nudge him, rolling your eyes.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥໒꒱🌱⠈⠂⠄ ‹𝟹 🚞〃 ˝˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Ahh. The way the dry air whistles in your ears as you swerve across the ripples of water is just- otherworldly.

Not to mention the frequent wave that you absolutely shred. The adrenaline that pumps through your veins is almost addictive.

Who knows? You could probably compete in surfboarding competitions and come out on top each and every time.

Lucifer, on the other hand-

Well, he’s trying his hardest, and that’s all that matters. Right?

You giggle when the most recent wave of water submerged your devilish partner. 

He emerges from the water, with sunken eyes, and a not-very-amused expression.

“Ugh, this is so embarrassing. Oh look, even you’re laughing at me,” he folds his arms.

“Don’t take it personally, love,” you reply, hugging him from the back.

“Darling, I’m the King of Hell! I’m not taking anything personally,” he grumbles earnestly.

“Oh? Is that so? Well, if I kissed you now, you wouldn’t take it personally? Especially me, your partner?” You feign sorrow, when the King’s eyes dilate.

“What? No, it’s not like that-” His voice cracks.

“Oh, who am I kidding? Of course, a lowly sinner like me isn’t even worthy of being graced in the presence of the King of Hell,” your voice drawls, taking on a dramatic tone.

“What?” The pain in his voice and his eyes dilating with sadness fills you with guilt immediately.

“Wait no, baby I’m sorry I didn’t mean that, I was just joking like I always do-” You squeeze your arms around Lucifer.

He sighs into your touch. “It’s alright, but please don’t do that again?”

“I promise, I truly, truly, don’t mean it,” You rub his rosy cheeks either side of his face with your thumbs.

Lucifer takes your hands and kisses into them. “God, I love you so much. I will never let anyone take you from me,”

Your lips break into a great grin.

“You don’t know how much power you have with that smile,” 

Your face contorts into a question mark.

“What, do you mean?”

“Darling, those toothy grins could break so many hearts. The guy on the beach-” He hesitates. Maybe he was just over-reacting. Maybe that specific sinner wasn’t trying to do anything…

Lucifer continues, “Well, I’ve just noticed that when we ever go out, you get hit on a LOT, and I’m sorry if I might be making a big deal out of nothing, but the thought of you leaving scares me so much, and, and-” Thoughts whirl around in his brain that couldn’t be properly computed into words.

You, however, stay beside him and listen until he’s finished before putting out your own.

“Lulu, first, thank you for telling me this. I truly, truly didn’t realise how forward some people have been with me. I thought they were just being polite, but I realise the place we live in is quite devoid of that behaviour, though that’s not really an excuse. What I can say for a fact is that I’ll never trade you for the world. The acceptance and love you give me is something priceless that I never want to be taken from me,”

“How did you ever not go up to Heaven?” He sniffs, a happy tear rolling down his cheek.

You wipe it away. “I don’t know, but I’m glad I didn’t,”

“I’m glad you didn’t too,”

ˏˋ°•⁀➷ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

~1,236 words

[nqmonarch]

Afraid of Falling in Love

Short drabble before class

You cared about Jing Yuan more than you liked to admit. The two of you had known each other for a while, you getting to meet the esteemed figure after the fall out of the High Cloud Quintet. You'd been friends for hundreds of years, and for the last hundred or so you've been struggling to keep the relationship together.

You never would've expected it to be so difficult so be friends with someone you loved romantically.

You'd always been afraid of getting close to people, even now Jing Yuan was one of your two friends. You'd been alive hundreds of years and experienced countless betrayals that came with some problems. It wasn't anything big but all of the small things piled up.

You looked at Jing Yuan warily but he remained calm, his catlike smile ever present on his face, laying there lazily. You couldn't understand why he would trust outsiders with such an important task. He should've sent someone like you to go capture Kafka, what if these people were secretly working with Kafka? What if someone on the Xianzhou was working with Kafka?

What if... Jing Yuan himself was working with Kafka? Your heart dropped, quivering fearfully in its cage. He'd sent the outsiders knowing they would fail-- no, no that didn't make any sense.

"Something wrong?" His deep voice pulled you out your thoughts, easing your nerves. It was a wonderful voice, one you could listen to all day, you had to wonder what other noises it could make. How would his-- no, bad thoughts.

You trusted Jing Yuan sure, but... he was a native resident of the Xianzhou he'd eventually succumb to mara, and so would you. How could either of you trust the other?

One day one of you would be replaced by a monstrous creature, one that may threaten to kill not only citizens but the person you hold dearest. One day it would all be over. To love someone is to allow them to hold your vulnerable heart in threatening hands and trust that they won't do anything. It is to know neither of you will ever hurt the other.

It hurts most to be hurt by those you love, even if they're no longer themselves.

"Y/N?" The voice chimed again, and you blinked looking over to Jing Yuan across the chess board, "Are you upset with me?" His eyes looked at you with so much love you wanted to run away.

You moved the chariot piece in an attempt to corner him, "No, I trust in your judgement." He ignored your move, continuing to gaze into your eyes, causing you to shift a bit of anxiety welling up in your heart.

Jing Yuan reached across the board, resting his hand on yours, "But are you upset with me?"

You frowned, looking down at his warm hand feeling the callouses on it, "How could I ever be upset with you?"

"You're upset with yourself then," He concluded, removing his hand, and standing up with ease, walking over to you, his feet hitting the wooden floor.

You looked up at him quizzically, eyes drifting down to the hand he offered you. "Not really," You took his hand, feeling your heart speed up. You felt nauseated at being so close to him. It wasn't a particularly bad feeling though. But you felt sick.

Jing Yuan helped you up and then smiled at you, moving too fast for you to react and placing his lips on your cheek. "Be kind to yourself. Be happy for what we have now."

Sure, the two of you weren't in a relationship. You were pretty sure he was just waiting for you but... one day he won't be him, and you'll be forced to see him become what you've been taught to despise the most. But wouldn't it be best to enjoy his company while you still can?

You can't stop yourself from being in love, no matter how afraid of it you are.

Love is love, that's all.

am slightly sick so missed class today, which included a quiz, emailed teacher about it

teacher is like sorry we don't do makeup work

i'll keep that in mind if ur ever late on a grade i don't accept late grades and if you're ever too sick to teach class i'm not doing the work for that day unless if we do it another day in class.

it's very tilting considering in the past when i was in highschool we had a perfect attendance award (key word had) until some kid threw up 5x in one day while in school. bro refused to go home bcus he wanted the award.

don't incentivize students to come to class sick.

[demigodickrider]

indefinitely, forever ☆ okkotsu yuuta! [3/3]

okkotsu yuuta (post shibuya) x fem!reader click here for: part one | part two | part three - no spoilers from the manga, dwdw ;) - alternative universe where yuuta is an SCP? - [18+] three-part series, 10k+ words in total

(note: not proofread, expect grammar mistakes) warning: contains SMUT, reader is a virgin, yuuta is a bit OOC/has that gojo satoru influence, romance, happy ending but contains slight angst and comfort, 2nd person pov, reader swears like a sailor

Yuta rolls his eyes playfully at you, large hands toying with the hem of your shirt. It was unnatural just how touch-starved he was; the relentless need to touch you, any part of you, imprinted into the deepest parts of his soul somewhere. "So, do you want to continue?"

"Continue what?"

"Like, if you wanna fuck.. or something..."

"Huh?!" Now its your turn to be continuously shocked.

"O-Only if you want to!" Yuta insists, clamping a hand over his nose and lips out of embarrassment followed by his classic shy gaze to the side. He turns a shade of red you have never imagined anyone could turn to, but Okkotsu Yuta had always defied the impossible.

You've already lost your first kiss to the floor while being chased down by the same man you just made out with.

So would it truly hurt to just fuck him?

No, it wouldn't.

It wouldn't at all.

His eyes watch your every move. He has a bad habit of staring at people, you note. You pry the calloused fingers off his face and capture his lips in another kiss, this time sensual and passionate.

"Are you sure?" He asks, just before he returns the kiss.

"Stop talking and just fuck me already."

"Will do, ma'am." He teases, sealing your protests with his lips.

Yuta wastes no time in helping you discard your top off, trailing butterfly kisses from your mouth and down your neck. Strong arms rest on either side of your body, hands large than yours clasping over the back and holding you down. His kisses now felt ticklish and feverish, each leaving a scorch on your skin akin to summer heat.

Heat pools between your thighs. You weakly tug at his collar to let him know that you want to see him; just as he had showed off before. Yuta ends the butterfly trail at your sternum, right above your breasts. He stands upright and grins wickedly at you.

"So eager to see me?"

"Shut up, you were the one eager enough to strip for me."

"Mhm," Yuta grips the back collar and pulls it off of him, greeting you with an all-too familiar sight for your eyes to feast on. You can't help but stare at his torso. No one would know that such a strong build was lying beneath the soft material of your sweater. The uniform he had on earlier did nothing for his form as it covered everything your eyes had glory to rest on now. Your fingers yearn for contact; they ghost across thickened skin, hardened with muscle from years of training and killing. "I bet you enjoyed the show, didn't you? Since you sided with me because of my body."

"Don't listen to Maki!"

He giggles, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. You huff, but the sight of him leaning into your touch has you feeling all-forgiving.

"Sorry. Good thing nudity is allowed here."

You were about to protest yet again but he dampens your voice with the palm of his hand. With his other, he unclasps your bra and pushes the strap off each shoulder, leaving a kiss on them as he did.

"W-Wait..."

Yuta ignores your pleads this time, resuming the trail of kisses down to your breasts. Your body instinctively arches up when he plays with the buds on your right breast, watching how it hardens in the cold. He latches onto your left breast next, his hot tongue swirling around the swollen areola and flicking it upwards. Pleasure strummed through your body and you grabbed both his wrists to steady yourself. Soft moans leave your lips as Yuta's tongue works wonders, his other hand nipping the bud playfully.

"Oh, fuck." You wrap your legs around his waist, caging him to you. With your bodies pressed against each other you could feel the dig of his crotch on your clothed half. Not wanting to lose the battle, you started to rut your hips in tandem with his suckling on your breasts, an awkward position to be in but it worked given the heavy groans you were receiving from the man. "Oh, Yuta..."

Yuta hums, switching to your other breast. "Must I give this one some attention too?" He pinches the nub in his hand and licks it.

"Mhm..."

"Hm?"

"P-Please." You were in too deep to really formulate anything.

He's pleased with your answer and continues to suck on it, earning a damn near pornographic moan from you.

The tension hung heavy in the air, once-clear windows fogging up from the heat you were both sharing. One moan after another, he drank up the breathy praises, doing his absolute best to please you. "So good, please don't stop..." Not that he ever would. The taste of your skin was addicting to him, and he worshiped your body in ways words never could, pouring every inch of love he had in him to the way he pleasured you. His hands grab at every patch of skin he could cover, running them up and down your body, over and over again in a routine only he knows. Yuta meets your lips in another fiery kiss, fingers dancing ever-so-lightly over the waistband of your pajama shorts, as if waiting for your permission.

You deepen the kiss, a hand shifting through the soft tufts of his black hair and another resting on his broad shoulder. You swipe your tongue on his lower lip and he gives in, opening up, your tongue breaking through and exploring his mouth. His skin shivers to this, reacting sensitively even to the lightest of touches. He tastes of mild peppermint and a tad of coffee from the one you had given to him earlier. He folds into your play, hands finally slipping past the waistband and pulling your pants down. He's attentive as his large hands glide down your body, feeling the stretch marks on your hips and thighs; every inch of you a different texture that he liked.

He whines cutely when your lips leave his to steady your breath. "I can't do this, I need to taste you. I'll die if I don't."

"No one's stopping you, big boy."

The words went straight to his dick, already leaking with precum and uncomfortably tight in his pants. But he'll gladly cast his orgasm aside just for you to feel fully satisfied by him, being the gentleman that he is. He gives you a light peck and make quick work of your underwear, pulling it by the teeth and shoving them down to your ankles. He then pries your thighs further apart, catching sight of your glistening folds, already wet with arousal from earlier.

"Y-Yuta, don't stare like that." You attempt to close your thighs together. He shushes you, keeping them open.

His curiosity gets the better of him when his index finger traces down and up on your exposed cunt agonizingly slow, your body twitching in response to it. Your breaths turn shallow; airy and needy with every stroke he gives it. Yuta studies how your chest heaves every time his finger ghosts over your clit, and the slight tremor from your legs.

"Ever been eaten out before?"

"N-No. Why?"

"No reason."

"W-Wait.. you're not s-supposed to-!"

Your moans fill the apartment when he goes down on you. A starved man with a five-course meal ready at his service, tongue lapping up your juices. You're no longer sitting up now, your back against the cold surface with your thighs pressed on your chest. Your legs hang over his shoulders and Yuta grunts at the taste of you; nothing could ever live up to this. His guilty indulgence continues its ravage on your sweet cunt, the fingers in his hair tugging at its roots only egging him on as he devours you. Your clit begs for mercy from his sucking, swollen and red yet the pleasure comes in waves. Goosebumps prickle your skin, this time from a good cause. Tears threaten to spill from just how good he was eating you out, especially when his tongue starts entering you. Warm and languid, he pushes into your hole as far as he could with a finger rubbing on your clit.

"Oh- fuck, that feels so good, Yuta- please..."

His name on your lips was a devout prayer to him. In the moonlight, his eyes hint a shade of blue, fluttering open to watch you. Your head is tossed back, sweat beading across your forehead and your neck, hands no longer have the energy to grip his soft hair when he's propelling you fast towards your first orgasm. His fingers work magic on the tiny bud on your cunt, the little bundles of nerves jerking together once you feel the pressure reach a breaking point.

"W-Wait, feel funny like- mgh, like its-"

Orgasm rips through you hard and blindingly white; with the only indicator of it ever happening being the strangled sob that left your dry lips. Your body convulses, arching up and tensing, tears leaving the crevices of your eyelids. His tongue leaves you only when the trembling subsides. Yuta admires how cute your clit spasms from the overstimulation. Slick covers your cunt and inner thigh.

"Feel good?" Eyes heavy with lust search your face for signs of discomfort, relieved when you mumble a weak yes. He picks you up, cradling you in his arms, "Wanna taste yourself?"

You manage a single nod. Your lips meet in a slow kiss, tongue delving into each other's mouths again. There's a tinge of sweetness on him that wasn't there previously. The orgasm had left your eyes hazy and your mind in a fuzz; all you could really feel was the primal urge to just fuck him. Your body groans in misery from how empty you felt without him. Your free hand tugs on the band of his pants impatiently. He lets go of you, a string of saliva interconnected. He fumbles with his pants and throws it somewhere behind him. He’s left in his boxers and a visible bulge.

He’s beyond needy when you palm his entrapped cock.

"Yuta..." And you're begging for it too.

"I know, I know. So eager for me." He kisses the tips of your fingers and undresses himself, freeing his dick from the confines of his tight boxers. It springs up, lathered in his own precum, upright and demanding attention. It's just as pretty as you imagined, as beautiful as the man himself. "Do you want me to put it in you yet?"

"C-Can I try... uh..."

"Oh," He realizes with a smile, "You wanna have a taste?"

Your head bobs with determination. You've never had sex before, let alone given someone a sex-job of any kind. His right hand pumps on his length. He could easily be seven inches long, and you doubt that it's all he had to offer. Yuta pats your thigh, "You sure?"

"I've never given a blowjob before." You admitted.

"That's okay. I'll teach you."

With the assistance of his arms around you, you stood. He's taller than you by a few centimeters. You've watched enough porn to know that you'd have to kneel down to reach his height, but waited for his orders nonetheless. He puts both hands on your shoulders and pushes you down on your knees, as expected, before placing a thumb on your lips. "Open wide. And try to keep your teeth away."

You did as you're told, opening your mouth up.

"Pinch me hard if it hurts." You agree to the terms and Yuta takes a deep breath, sliding his dick into your mouth. It's warm and comforting, the image of it going down a forever memory. Just as you expected, he's bigger than what you've normally seen; you keep your teeth away and suck in a breath when it glides in, only choking a little when it hits the back of your throat. He stifled a moan, patting your head as a way to tell you that you're taking him well. "Oh fuck," It's odd to see him so tearful, "Your mouth's so.. ah.. warm."

Doe eyes stare up at him, waiting for a move.

"Y-Yeah," He swallows, "You can move now."

With closed eyes you start to bob your head at a slow pace, testing the waters first. The hand on your head forms into a gripping fist, the other holding onto the counter edge for stability. Yuta's breathing heavily, trying his best to stay still for you. Now that you've orally memorized his length, you started to speed up at a constant space, letting your right hand rest on his thigh and the other pumping him up. The entirety of him wouldn't fit you just yet. For some reason, the sounds he’s making  caused your cunt to throb even deeper with need.

"Slow down.. Hah..." His voice is raw and deep.

You could feel him harden inside. You suck in your cheeks as much as you could, vacuuming all space for a tighter hold on his dick.

"O-Oh, fuck.. fuck..." This has him hunching over, and panting like the bitch in heat he is, "I-Is this really your first.. ah.. time..?"

You swirl your tongue up to the tip and free his dick with a pop. The absence of his cock left your throat scratchy and your voice similar to sandpaper. You drag your tongue up from the base, following a protruding vein. Yuta whimpers at the sensation pathetically, wanting more albeit also wanting you to be in control. The momentum of his orgasm came crashing down.

"Do I really suck dick that good?"

You attempt to blow the strands of hair sticking to your face.

Tender fingers rake the strands away in a voiceless reply, tucking them behind your ear. Rather, he picks you up for the umpteenth time that day, letting your legs wrap around him once more- and sets you back down on the sofa. The sofa dips down when he kneels on the edge, forcing your thighs apart for the second time. He puts his middle and ring finger in his mouth, coating them in his saliva all while looking at you. Something changed in the way he looked at you.

A tad bit deranged.

Like if he didn't fuck you now he was going to really die.

"Honestly, it made me want you all to myself." He confesses, slipping his middle finger into you. You squeak at his admission, cheeks flushing redder. Your walls stretch around the digit, pulsing and coming alive, a gasp aloud at the sudden intrusion. It wasn't unwelcomed - feels uncomfortable and good at the same time. You've masturbated a couple times before with the same two fingers, but this just felt different. Something about the texture of his hands and how he curls it deep inside took your breath away. He pushes it in, slow and controlled, letting you adjust to his one finger alone. "Think you can handle two for me?"

"That's just one?!"

"I'm bigger than that." Yuta muses, watching you squirm slightly around his finger. It would be too painful for you to take him head-on, considering his size. With god-like patience, he retracts his finger only to slide it back in again repeatedly, widening the hole.

"O-Okay. You can put another one in-"

Tight. So tight.

So tight that you had to hold your breath. The ring that you never noticed was now submerged deep in you too. It's cool unlike the snugness of your vagina. "Y-You're married???"

The man laughs in response, "I wouldn't call it married."

"So I'm screwing with someone else's lover????"

"No, you’re screwing with your lover."

Ooooooh and do his words melt your heart. Red adds to the pink already charming your cheeks and you look away. "Womanizer."

Yuta chuckles, "You'd be the second person to tell me that." If it wasn't for him moving without your orders you would've forgotten that he had your fingers in you. Your slick walls had accommodated them so perfectly he wondered if you were actually meant for him. He scissors his fingers apart, trying to get your walls to stretch even further. Deep within your walls, he starts to pump and curl on the spongy patch embedded on the upper side of your vagina.

He hits it again and again, and each time makes you even wetter than before. He barrels you towards your second orgasm, drinking up the view of your sweaty body twitching when it explodes. You spasm underneath him, mouth open to let out a silent scream.

His fingers leave you with a squelch.

He licks them off. If Yuta could rate you as a meal, he'd give you 6 stars and a Golden Prize Award for Best Pussy. That's just how good you tasted to the boy. He’s handsy again, hands traveling across your body while his cock spreads your folds, feeling you underneath.

“Are you sure you want this raw?”

Your half-lidded eyes bat at him, "Shut up and fuck me."

Amusement glinted in his eyes, “Sorry.” He apologizes mockingly, tone far from apologetic. Yuta takes one last look at you for time’s sake and enters you, pausing when his tip fully breached the inside. It’s barely all of him and it has the butterflies in your stomach taking flight. He pushes the rest of him into you meticulously, afraid of breaking you. 

Dull pain shot through you when he broke through, “W-Wait!”

“Are you okay?” He stops, hair matted to his forehead. He’s itching to move so badly with how warm you were hugging his cock. Tears filled up your eyes from how it stinged, but you didn’t want him out. You raise a hand and he understands, granting you some time to get used to his full length. He’s inside you entirely to the hilt, pressing against your womb.

Yuta Okkotsu and his impossibly big dick be damned.

“I-I’m okay now.” He’s on cloud fucking nine the way you squeezed him. 

“How do you want it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Let me know if it hurts then. Safe word’s Okkotsu.” Yuta crawls forward and cages your head between his forearms, sharing the same breath you do. Being in charge turned him cocky, a 180° difference from the shy, timid person so worried for you not long ago. You raise a brow at him, and he raises a brow back at you. “Unless you plan on screaming that name of mine too.”

“H-Hey!”

He turns a deaf ear to your stammering, shifting your legs on his shoulder. You feel his dick slide in slightly further and the impatience brimming from him, “I’ll move now.”

Yuta pulls out his length. 

Then he slams it back with full force, knocking the wind out of you.

You yelp, followed by a groan, which soon turned into chains of moaning from how hard he was rutting in you. He isn’t quiet by any means either, groaning and grunting equally loud in your ear while he fucks irrationally fast into you. Pain turns to pleasure, the same way your moans turn into high-pitched prayers of his name, saliva drooling from the edge of your lips and eyelashes damp from your tears. Dirty praises drip from his ever-loving lips with every second he spends rough-fucking you. It hits the same spot each time without fail, building up your release. The couch creaks repeatedly, and it would be to no one’s surprise if you had to replace it.

Unlike the kiss you first shared with him, his lips are ruthless- now serving as a way to effectively shut you up. He adored your fingers; how small they were compared to his, now groaning at how they feel scraping down his body, red marks littering his back. He loved how you detested him in the early hours of meeting him and how easily you succumbed to him now, a moaning mess of his own doing. He reveled in the way your body accepted him so easily at the first touch, second, third and the ones you share with him right now. 

He absolutely, 

truly, 

devastatingly, 

loved you.

You babble incoherent words, so cockdrunk that the only word he could make out was his name in begging. “Yuta Yuta Yuta-” His hands move to grip your waist for better control. Your folds wrapped so perfectly around his dick that he found it exceedingly difficult to move out each time; every millisecond out of it made him pound back in twice as hard. He aches for more: more of the sex, more of your touch, more of your moans, and more of his name out your mouth.

If he could spend every second of his life devoted to you, he truly would. Whatever energy lost in the heat of the moment was reclaimed by the sounds you made for him. Yuta buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the faint smell of your vanilla shampoo he too shared. Your skin was so soft unlike his, how could it be? You were both human, but you were the perfection he wished he was and he felt blessed to lay even a single finger on you. The pinnacle of God’s creation, laid all bare and fucked out for his infatuated eyes to obsess.

He could feel his orgasm approaching anytime soon.

Yuta bites into you hard enough to draw blood.

“I-It h-hurts…” You choke on your own words, sobbing under his mercy. 

“You’re taking it.. hah, so…. well for me, aren’t.. you?” He cooes at you between breaths, kitten licking the spot to soothe your crying. He couldn’t resist the urge to mark you up, your pussy swallowing him deep so much that he’s utterly pussydrunk, only obsessed with the thought of you. How could he, when you’re so perfect and obedient to him? He owed you your life, and he’s fucking you so good that the hands on your waist would inevitably bruise you. His tongue readies another spot by your shoulder; sinking his teeth in once more and lapping up the blood that emerged from within.

“Oh yes, yes- yes - yes yes yes - oh! yes yes - yes-”

It wouldn’t matter if he hurt you, he’d heal you right up.

But why would he?

You looked so much better this way, under his mercy.

He slows down to a constant pace to check his work on you. A masterpiece of purple and blue, on show for everyone to see if your shirt were to uncover enough. Satisfied, he kisses the lobe of your ear, sighing when your moans turn a pitch higher when he nibbles on it.

“Look at you,” He’s as breathless as you are. “Taking me so well.”

His free hand finds its way back on your clit, stroking it in conjunction with the snap of his hips against yours. You’re reaching your third breaking point of the night- evident from the way your toes curl and the tremor in your legs.

“I-I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…!”

“Y-Yeah? Me too.” He collects your weakened arms and pins them above you, fucking at the same pace. His eyes marvel in the sight of your fucked out expression, pupils blown absolutely wide, your mouth hanging open singing broken moans for him. A drug to remember; to indulge in forever, tucked into the craters of his mind. “Cum with me, pretty.”

“C-Coming!”

He pulls out just as your orgasm washes over you. Yuta places a hand over your mouth as you scream into it from the onslaught of pleasure running through your veins, bringing you close to the brink of unconsciousness. Your vision turns blurry; it took you time to realize that Yuta had come on you. Ropes of cum landed on your abdomen the same time you did, sultry and dense in white. 

For a minute or so you both stayed in your positions, letting consciousness and rationality take over.

Exhaustion quickly befalls the two of you. You turn to the side and Yuta collapses next to you, flinging a protective arm around you. Now you’re locking eyes with each other, face-to-face, both completely stark naked. You wriggle your arm between your bodies to cup his cheek in your hand, admiring how good he looked all sweaty and tired.

He was the first to break the silence, “Do you forgive me?”

You wipe the edge of his lips, stained with lipstick.

“Yeah I do.”

He takes your hand and kisses the knuckles he had healed for you.

“Thank you.”

Aftercare and dinner could wait. The air stills into comfortable silence. It’s early December. The snow outside compels you both to rest, a gentle lullaby sung by the warmth that enveloped you two. Yuta strokes a reassuring thumb over your knuckles, a silent but sure promise to keep you safe. His dark eyes hold a newfound meaning now that you’ve given him your all. 

You both share a soft smile, new to this chapter.

Soon you found yourself drifting off in the mess of your bodies entangled together.

Indefinitely, forever.

.

.

THE END LOL FUCKING FINALLY IM DONE I HOPE U ENJOYED emuach emuach uHHHHHH ©demigodickrider / aftercare link

[not-neverland06]

Broken Machinery

Pt. 4 (completed series)

Series masterlist

Connor RK800 x fem!reader

A/N: A long one, I wanted some more domestic moments between the two, sue me. Black dahlia’s represent betrayal (or it’s just a nice gift for that emo friend in your life)

Content Warnings: Cussing (duh), body breaking like fine china, shoulders out of sockets (not that bad but I googled a picture of one and it’s gross), overdose (but not really), past death of a child (not reader’s), readers got hair long enough to be in a braid, death of a pot

Word Count: 6.4k

Series Summary: You and your grumpy partner Anderson gain a new addition to the team. He’s supposed to be CyberLife’s best, but there’s something not quite right with his programming, and the problems seem to revolve around you.

Shoulders aren’t supposed to look like that. They’re sure as fuck not supposed to feel like that either. You can’t even lift your arm to peel off your jacket, you don’t have to though, they’re dislocated.

“Y/N!” Calloused hands on your wrist and then all of your body weight is jerked down and hanging from your shoulders, you can feel the moment they rip out of socket, you can’t help the guttural scream that rips its way out of your throat.

The pain from your everywhere is momentarily ignored as you lay in Hank’s lap, sobbing with the relief that you’re still alive. You’re not dead or a paraplegic somewhere in a hospital bed, you’re breathing. You can feel Hank trembling, you’re not sure from what, but he’s silent as he holds you.

You must be going into shock, you can’t really feel anything as he slowly gets you on your feet. You can’t feel your legs moving down the stairwell or him directing you towards the group of patrol cars. One moment you’re on the roof, then you blink, and you’re standing behind an ambulance being looked over by paramedics.

“Cracked ribs, dislocated shoulder,”

Guess it was only the one shoulder, then.

They’re looking you over to assess the damage done. You can just stare blankly down at your sneakers. You’re trying to remember what exactly happened on the roof. But it’s all a blur of adrenaline and primal panic.

He was holding you over the edge, talking to someone. Who?

“Detective! Lieutenant!” Your head shoots up, you ignore the stabbing pain that travels down your spine.

Connor, Connor will save you.

Except he didn’t, he walked away.

He walked away.

You yank your arm free from the paramedic, ignore Hank as he tries to stop you and storm over to Connor. You’d say the look on his face is proud, but you’re not gonna let your heart trick your mind into thinking this plastic son of a bitch can feel anything at all.

“Y/N, I’ve successfully apprehended the deviant.” You’ve still got one good arm. You don’t aim for his face, that won’t do any good, you punch him right in the bio component and watch him crumple to the floor. When hes down you kick your foot into the same spot as hard as fucking possible, ignoring any pain that it brings you.

“Congratu-fucking-lations.”

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

It’s been two days and the detective still refuses to acknowledge Connor. He’d tried to explain his reasoning for leaving her in favor of catching the deviant.

FIND Y/N

Connor double checked the door on the hospital room, he could hear Hank and Y/N bickering from inside. “What did the doctors say?” There was a pause before she responded.

“Another day of bed rest,” she sounded reluctant to answer. Connor hadn’t been able to speak with her after the incident on the roof; he'd had to go straight to CyberLife technicians for repairs. She’d done considerable damage to his biocomponent.

Maybe I deserved it.

“Then get your ass back in bed.”

“Hank, please, I’ve suffered a lot worse than this and made it out perfectly fine.”

Hank didn’t sound amused, and there was a loud thud as something landed on sheets. “I don’t care, Y/N! You’re staying right there, it’s not just your fucking physical issues you have to worry about. I’ve never seen you act like that before, I’m worried about what that fall did to your head.” There was a moment of silence and Connor thought it was a smart time to go inside.

There seemed to be a strange, different sort of silence when he walked into the room. Connor wished his hands were free, there were no objectives or dialogue options to pick from as Hank and Y/N both turned towards him. His hands were full, he looked down to the potted black dahlia between them.

He outstretched his hands and moved towards Y/N. She just stared at him from her spot on the bed, unsure of what to do now, he looked to Hank for an order.

The Lieutenant was watching him with crossed arms and an undetermined look on his face.

Connor cleared his throat and placed the flower down on the table near the bed. He scanned her, a minor concussion, two cracked ribs, and one dislocated shoulder. Her heartbeat was increasing the longer he stared, adrenaline and cortisol reaching a level that told him she was very upset about something.

“Your arm seems to be healing at a good pace. You should listen to the Lieutenant, a couple more days rest and you’ll be feeling much better.” The room remained silent and Connor reached up to fix his already perfect tie. There was something odd about him as he felt the stares of his partners. Something inside felt off.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

“I’m programmed with psychological software that could help you after recovering from a strong shock.”

SUPPORT

ANALYTICAL

STAY QUIET

Connor immediately knew what he said was the wrong choice.

“A strong shock?” Your voice was quiet enough that he almost didn’t catch what you said, but the room was so deathly still it was impossible for you not to be heard. “A strong shock?” You were quickly gaining in volume. “You left me to fucking die! And for what, for the goddamn android to smash its fucking brains out on the interrogation table before we got anything! I would have died for nothing!”

Connor opened his mouth, prepared to argue his side of the problem, but you cut him off with a quiet question he wasn’t expecting. “What was the chance?”

“Sorry?”

You walked up closer to him and tugged his tie so hard he stumbled into you, you used the shock of the movement to jerk him down lower than you. “The chance of my survival, RK800, what was it?”

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

That strange feeling was back, the use of his model instead of his name made him feel wrong.

He shouldn’t be feeling at all.

When he took too long to answer you knocked his legs out from under him and tightened your grip on the tie. “40%,” he tried to keep his voice as quiet as possible but it was clear both you and the liteuant heard him.

You released him like it had burned you to keep holding on to his tie, and the Lieutenant muttered a quiet, “Fucking bastard.” Connor opened his mouth, unsure of what to say, but wanting this feeling to stop and needing the tears forming in the corners of your eyes to go away.

You and the bag you had been packing were gone by the time he had gotten to his feet, Hank stayed behind a moment, gave Connor a long look before following after you. Connor straightened his tie and sleeves and stared at his shoes. He didn’t know what to do.

There was no objective, there was nobody to give him an order. He lifted his eyes to the flower sitting on the table in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he ignored the way his LED flashed red in a mirror as he reached forwards and grabbed the potted plant.

Connor looked down at his hand and noticed he was holding an umbrella, he was back in the Zen Garden. Amanda was waiting for him on the other side of the bridge.

They walked under the umbrella together. “That deviant seemed to be an intriguing case, a pity it deactivated before you could get any useful information out of it.”

Connor felt the need to defend himself, “Deviants are extremely irrational, which makes it difficult to anticipate their behavior… I should have been more effective.” The last part of his sentence came out without any thought behind it. Like it was an instinct to automatically blame himself, even though no one would know what the deviant could have been planning.

“Did you manage to learn anything?” Connor told her of the strange drawings on the walls, the ones like mazes and the journal that had a strange code inside it. He still had no explanation for rA9 and he could tell Amanda was disappointed.

“You captured the deviant at the cost of your relationship with the detective, have you made any development in that fixing that?”

Connor couldn’t help but think of your face in the hospital room, you were angry yes, but you also seemed . . . Sad.

Connor wasn’t sure if what he was feeling was guilt, but he knew he shouldn’t be feeling anything at all.

“She still hasn’t forgiven me for leaving her to fall. We had an altercation in her hospital room, after the fact and whatever good grace we had developed seems to have been erased.” Connor stopped once he realized Amanda was no longer following.

“We don’t have much time. Deviancy continues to spread, it’s only a matter of time before the media finds out about it. We need to stop this, whatever it takes.”

Connor straightened his shoulders back and looked down at her, “I will solve this investigation, Amanda. I won’t disappoint you.”

“Don’t let relationships get in the way of success, Connor. Improve on them if you can, but remember their lives mean nothing in the grand scheme of your mission.”

“Detective?” Connor knocked on your door again. You lived in a house about fifteen minutes away from the lieutenant’s. He’d attempted to contact Anderson to get your address, he’d hung up every time he’d realized it was Connor calling him. Eventually he just used the information from your personnel file.

Which is how he ended up peering through your windows, trying to catch a glimpse of where you were. Eventually he managed to get a small peak through one of your blinds in the living room. You were asleep on the couch, the TV playing, and there was something in your hand. Connor pressed his face fully against the glass and alarms went through his processors at what he saw.

Pills were spilled on the ground and the bottle was empty in the loose grip of your hand. Connor attempted a scan to see if you were even breathing, but after unsuccessfully trying to wake you up and get your attention he simply broke the glass.

Connor quickly dove through the window and rushed to your side on the couch. He took in your appearance, your mouth was open, barely any breath going in or out. Your lips and nails were discolored and there was a clammy feeling to your skin when Connor pressed his hand to your forehead. He needed to get you awake and alert, first and foremost.

He lightly brought his hand down on your cheek, you shifted but stayed unconscious. “I’m sorry, Y/N, but I need you to wake up.”

He brought his hand down harder and your hand immediately swung out in response. Connors cheek whipped to the left at the force of your slap, it didn’t hurt of course, but it still shocked him.

“What the hell? Connor? Did you just slap me?” Connor looked down at you, extremely confused at your sudden alertness. He couldn’t stop you in time to not notice what he had done to your window. “The fuck? Did you break my goddamn window?” You used his face as an assist in pushing yourself off the couch, his hands went to your hips to stabilize you.

Connor stood as you kneeled down by the broken glass on your ground, swaying slightly. “Shit, I can’t afford to fix this,” you groaned at the sight of the rain pouring into the empty frame. “My things! They’re all getting wet.” Connor walked over and moved anything around the frame to the wall, making sure nothing besides your carpet would get wet. You were silent as you went and retrieved some plastic to cover the window up. Connor wanted to say something to you, but he was unsure what would help the situation.

“Why did you bust in here like the Kool-Aid Man?”

“I thought you had overdosed.” You seemed to finally take in the mess around the couch.

“Oh, crap.” Connor watched you as you picked up the pills and put them back in the bottle, he finished up the window and moved towards where you were sitting on the couch. Your head was in your hands like it was bringing you pain.

Your voice snapped him out of his observation. “You know, for a state of the art android, you’re a real dumbass.” Connor looked down at you, his face must have displayed something he couldn’t identify because you laughed a little.

“My nails look weird because I haven’t finished painting them,” you pointed towards the nail polish bottles on your coffee table. “I haven’t used any chapstick or taken my iron supplements, so there’s lips. And I got tired and fell asleep with the pill bottle in my hand. I was gonna take one for my headache but passed out after I opened the damn thing, which is probably why my head hurts so much.”

Connor was disappointed with himself at everything he had missed, he should have seen all that from the window and not taken such drastic measures. His damage to your domicile had only worsened relations between you. Right now, you hated him worse than Hank.

“You were barely breathing.”

You shot him a deadpan look, “Deep sleeper.” Connor fixed his tie and looked around the house for something to occupy himself with. There was trash everywhere, dirty clothes scattered the ground, and old dished piled in the sink.

“Hey, hey! I don’t need your judgy ass android eyes making me feel bad for my pig sty. Okay?”

“Allow me to help, detective.” Your eyes narrowed, you didn’t seem particularly trusting towards Connor. He couldn't blame you, he’d completely destroyed the small bridge of trust he’d managed to make with both you and the lieutenant. “Your shoulder and ribs are still damaged, I understand it’s difficult to take care of yourself right now. Allow me to help you.”

You laid back down on the couch, and Connor thought you were going to ignore him until you spoke up after a couple of moments of silence. “You’re a detective bot, not a house maid.” You paused before waving your hand through the air. “But sure, whatever, knock yourself out. Just stop fucking standing over me like that.” Connor watched you close your eyes, he continued standing there for a few seconds. You seemed to be faking sleep to try and get him away from you.

At least he finally had an objective he could follow now.

TAKE CARE OF Y/N

He started with the kitchen. Cleaning the takeout boxes off the counter and grabbing any dirty dishes scattered around your home. He stopped when picking some napkins off your coffee table, to check on you. Your breathing had settled and your back was turned towards him. You appeared to actually be asleep this time.

Connor frowned at the position your body was in. You were going to do more harm than good sleeping on your worn down couch. He placed the trash can on the ground and stepped silently towards you. He made sure to be as still and gentle as possible as he slowly rolled you into his arms. You only moved once, to settle your head in his neck.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

He ignored the way his thirium pump seemed to move faster and how the blue blood rushes towards his head. It simply wasn’t possible.

Connor went down the hall and to your bedroom on the right. He gently deposited you into your unmade bed and tucked the sheets over your body. He checked your pulse and scanned your body. Everything seems to be working perfectly.

You were just a disturbingly deep sleeper.

On his way out, something shining on the ground caught his eye. He made his way towards your dresser, at the foot of it appeared to be a picture frame. He looked over his shoulder to ensure you were still asleep before he bent down and grabbed it.

You appeared to be around nineteen years old. You were sitting on a roundabout smiling at the camera, your hair done in two French braids. Your arms were wrapped around a young boy around the age of three. He had his hand around your forearms and was making a strange face at the camera with his tongue out. Neither of you seemed aware your picture was being taken at the moment.

The scan confirmed your identity and gave him the identity of the boy.

DECEASED

Anderson, Cole

9/23/2029-10/11/2035.

Y/LN, Y/N

DPD Detective

Other known aliases:

Y/N ANDERSON

Hank had a son, who had died? You both appeared close in this picture. It’s approximately three years before Cole’s death. Could the death of Hank’s son be what caused the drift between the two of you?

Connor heard you shift on the bed and quickly put the picture back down on the floor. He didn’t believe you would appreciate him further investigating your life. Not when you got so upset with him when he simply took a look at your adoption papers.

Connor examined this new piece of information. It was like he was working two cases at once, solving the deviancy problem.

And trying to figure out your unfortunate past with the Lieutenant. Knowing now that the Lieutenant's son had died he could go ahead and assume that’s when your relationship started to go downhill. A year after Cole’s death is when Hank’s divorce became official, according to the papers he not so legally acquired.

The death of a child will often destroy families, if Hank could no longer be a viable partner to his wife, then perhaps he could also no longer be a father to you.

Judging by the Lieutenants drinking habits he didn’t have a healthy view on mental health, or know how to properly deal with grief.

The way you seem to isolate yourself when Connor brings up your past or tries to have a better understanding of your emotional well being, he can also go ahead and come to the conclusion that Hank passed on his unhealthy coping skills to you.

His assumption is proved correct when he comes across a packet of cigarettes buried between the couch cushions. They’re unopened but the plastic surrounding the carton has been picked at. You seem to be trying to stop yourself from giving in to your unhealthy impulses.

Connor frowns down at the box and decides to do you a favor, he throws them in the trash.

Connor continues cleaning up your home while you sleep, attempting to wash and dry your dishes as quietly as possible. The cleaning gives himself something to occupy his mind with, the frantic, buzzing thoughts about deviants and his frustrating partners temporarily quiet while he focuses on one singular task.

PROTECT Y/N

Connor always accomplishes his missions, even if that just means making sure you can wake up to a clean home, or if he has to protect you from self-sabotaging habits.

You wake up to the smell of smoke and a loud blaring alarm.

You’re soaked in a puddle of your own sweat and have no idea where you are or what day it is. Your head shoots up from your pillow at the sound of something crashing onto the floor in your kitchen. You take a second to realize that you’ve been moved to your bed.

Then you remember what woke you up and you’re bolting out of bed. “Jesus Christ,” your kitchen is a smoky haze as you cough on the suffocating smell of something burned. Connor is standing in front of a pan on your stove, simply watching the flames. “Connor!” You grab a lid off the counter and shove him out of the way as you slam it over the pan, suffocating the flames. You quickly grab the metal sheet off the ground and slam it into Connor’s chest. “Quick make sure the sprinklers don’t go off.” Connor runs towards the alarm in the hallway and immediately starts waving it around.

The sight of Connor, the emotionless android who is always calm and collected, frantically running around waving a metal pan in the air, jumping up and down to get closer to the smoke alarm makes you double over in laughter. There’s an ache in your rbis and arm from the force of your laughter, but you don’t care. You haven’t felt this light for years, you haven’t laughed like that in years.

So you allow yourself to bask in the moment, one peaceful moment where you’re not weighed down by anything, except the weight of your own joy.

Connor didn’t hear you laughing until he finally managed to get the alarm quieted. The joints in his shoulders were tired from his wild maneuvering, but it was worth it. This was the first time since you met that his observation of you showed endorphins and a positive change in your body, not one that comes from feelings of negativity.

It felt like something was in his chest, lifting him up and lightening his weight as he watched you.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

Perhaps you did more damage when you attacked him than he originally thought. Your face contorted in pain as you finally raised up from your position. Connor moved before his processors could give him the option to. He tried to be as gentle as possible as he assisted you in standing. He pointedly ignored your protests that you didn’t need help.

You did and you were getting help whether you wanted it or not.

There was still a slight smile on your face as Connor deposited you on the chair next to your table. He moved towards the stove and turned off the burner, dropping the ruined pot in your sink and running water over it, your house still smelled very strongly of burnt food.

He heard a grunt coming from his right, when he turned something inside his head felt strange. LIke he wasn’t okay with what was happening, perhaps humans called this irritation. A concerning thought, but one he ignored in favor of nudging you aside while you failed to open a window.

“Connor-”

The look he shot you when he turned around was enough to get you to sit back down. “Why are you so stubborn? You should not be here alone, you’ve taken too much damage to even do basic household chores.”

You looked around your house and finally noticed all the hard work he had put in. “Holy shit.” There was a look of appreciation on your face until you turned towards Connor. A pout formed on your face and you crossed your arms like a petulant child, “Maybe I wanted the mess. I liked it like that.”

Were you seriously having this argument with him right now? You being difficult for no reason was causing his programming to go haywire. There were red warnings in the corner of his eye telling him he was going to overheat, he dismissed them and stormed towards you.

His hand landed on the table more harshly than he intended, causing you to jump in your seat. “You’re behaving like a child, Y/N, you’re a grown woman act like it! You need my help, there’s nothing wrong with letting me assist you, so just let me help you.” Without consciously activating it the voice he uses during intimidation tactics had been used.

His eyes were drawn down to your thighs, you had them clenched tightly together, your thighs pooling out on the chair below you. Your lips parted slightly as you stared at him. Connor quickly scanned you, your heat level was rising, your heart rate had accelerated and there was an increased level of estrogen and testosterone production. A thermal scan showed an increase of heat in your pelvic area.

ACTIVATE SEXUAL SUBROUTINE?

It wasn’t until the message appeared in front of him and blocked his view of your face did he realize how close he was to you.

This was highly inappropriate. You were injured and still upset with him, there was no need to seduce you.

ACTIVATE SEXUAL SUBROUTINE

He was designed with the intent to complete his mission at any cost. In case there was ever an issue between him and one of his partners and other more illicit methods were needed to gain their support, he was equipped with the capabilities to do so. This wasn’t a situation where methods like that were necessary, so why was there a prompt for it?

Connor backed away from you immediately, it wasn’t right to be taking advantage of your emotional vulnerability. From the corner of his eye he saw you slump back down into your chair. “What-“ you cleared your throat. “What were you even trying to make?”

Connor looked back towards the pot, his hands reached for the coin in his pocket. He needed to do something to get his software back in order. He didn’t turn to look at you, knowing he wouldn’t be able to focus. He thought back to the pasta sauce on your counter. “Spaghetti, for some reason the noodles burned onto the bottom of the pot.” After he was done recalibrating he placed the coin back in his pocket and found it was okay to look at you now.

Your eyes were glued to his hand for a moment before they shot back up to his face. “Burned, to the bottom of the pot? How the hell do you burn water?”

Connor tilted his head to the side, “Water?”

Your mouth dropped open and your eyes widened. “You’re kidding? Tell me you’re kidding.” Connor didn't know how to respond to you so he remained silent. “Oh my god,” you dropped your head into your hands. “You didn’t put water in the pot.”

“Was that required?” You didn’t answer him, instead you stood and walked over to the sink, Connor followed behind you, unsure what you wanted him to do. The both of you stared down into the pot as you lifted the lid, the pasta has blackened at the bottom. Even when you stabbed at it with a knife it wouldn’t come off the pot.

Your, “yeah, it needed water,” was quiet as you went outside and tossed the pot in your trash bin. Connor stood by your opened back door awkwardly, he didn’t feel good at disappointing you and failing his task.

“I apologize Y/N, I failed.”

You snorted, “Big time, how the hell do you not know to put water in the pot?”

Connor looked down at his shoes, “I was not built with cooking capabilities,” he risked a look at you.

You were standing there, just staring at him with your arms crossed before you finally shrugged, “Well then… I guess Barbie’s got you beat.”

“Dammit, Connor, I can feed myself!”

Connor leveled you with a look that allowed for no arguing. “Your dominant arm is dislocated and you refuse to wear your sling, I’m going to assist you.” He pushed the fork against your mouth again and you reluctantly opened your mouth to eat the pancakes he had ordered. This was so humiliating, you were desperate to get him to leave at this point.

After the pot had been destroyed and subsequently disposed of he had ordered some food and you sat down in your living room.

Your entire home was absolutely spotless, when you went to the bathroom you’d noticed he’d mopped the tiles. You were not asleep long enough for him to clean your living room, let alone your whole house.

While you were still against the idea, you could understand why some would prefer android cleaning services to human. You didn’t even want to sit on your couch, afraid of wrinkling the now pristine cousins.

Once you’d sat on your couch, you’d waited for him to leave.

Except, he didn’t, he sat down next to you and then just stopped moving. No blinking, no breathing, just absolute stillness. So, still being pissed at him you’d grabbed a marker off your desk and scribbled some drawings on his face. A heart, random flower, some choice words, nothing too bad. However;

They were staring at you right now as he force fed you.

He’d called a repairman while you had drawn on him, someone would be coming by to fix your window tomorrow, CyberLife would be footing the bill. After he’d made the order for the repair he’d asked what you would like to eat and made a call for the pancakes.

He still hadn’t noticed the drawings, it was a struggle not to choke on your laughter.

You forced a yawn as you pushed his hand away from your mouth, he frowned at the action. “Are you tired, detective?”

“Yeah, I am,” now please get the hell out of my house.

“You should bathe before you go to sleep.” Your head shot towards his, the action hurting your neck. You ignored it in favor of giving him your famous The Fuck Did You Just Say™️ look.

First, he lets you fall off a building and nearly die. Next, he breaks your god damn window and destroys your pot. Now he’s saying you stink. And good grace you held for Connor was gone, obliterated at the comment.

“That’s it Connor. You’ve stayed far past your welcome, I’m done.” Your resolve almost broke at the way Connor’s shoulders slumped. You straightened your shoulders, ignored the pain shooting down your arm, and rebuilt your walls.

You should thank Connor honestly, him letting you nearly die had reminded you of exactly what he was. Nothing more than a plastic soldier that only cared about his mission. You meant nothing to him. Your life was nothing. How could something that could so easily be put into a new body have any idea about death. He couldn’t.

But something that couldn’t die, also couldn’t feel. Those small touches, and the times he would check in on you, it was all manipulation. Just like the way he lied about having a favorite dog, they were all subtle little manipulations to have you as agreeable as possible. And a visceral rage filled you at the thought that he had almost succeeded.

Your heart had almost been his.

You rebuilt your walls and stared him down. “Leave. Now.”

Connor didn’t frown, he didn’t cry or scream at you to let him stay, but the look in his eyes as he stared up at you from his spot on your couch said enough. He looked genuinely hurt at what you said. Not possible.

“You can take your sad little eyes and you can shove them up your ass, Connor. Get the fuck out of my house.” You stormed out of the living room and into your bedroom. He’d cleaned it up and replaced your sheets while you’d waited for the food to arrive.

The lack of your mess made you angrier than it should have. How dare he just come into your house and start acting like he belonged there?

Like he had any right to be near you?

If he could feel pain you would beat him twice as bad as you did after the rooftop incident.

Apparently he’d had to get three parts replaced by CyberLife after what you did. Hank had been complaining about the paperwork the entire time you were in the hospital.

If your arms and ribs weren’t aching you would be pitching a major fit, and ripping the goddamn sheets right off the bed. At the moment, however, the pill Connor had forced you to take was kicking in and making you sluggish.

The only reason you had allowed Connor to stay in the first place was because you were still waking up from your nap. He seemed determined to keep you weak and tired so you couldn’t get rid of him.

You heard footsteps and then a hand was wrapped around your non-injured elbow. “I’m not leaving, detective. Someone in your condition needs assistance.” You turned around in his arms and tried to push him off of you, but he wouldn’t budge. Both of his hands moved to your biceps. The look he gave you made you stop, “Y/N, please, let me help. Please.” He seemed so sad, there was a slump to his shoulders that made him look almost shameful. The tone of his voice made you believe he actually wanted to help, that this wasn’t a part of his programming.

You blamed how easily you gave into him on the drugs.

“Absolutely not!”

Connor was holding your towel in front of him like a shield. “I won’t look, detective, I promise.”

“Hell no! Line drawn! You shall not pass.” He gave you a stern look. Like you should feel dumb for thinking he wanted to see you naked, maybe you were, but you didn’t want any pervy CyberLife techs scanning through his mainframe and seeing footage of you naked. “I’m not gonna let your bosses see me naked.”

Connor seemed to catch onto your train of thought. “I won’t be recording when you’re bathing, I promise we’ll be completely alone.” You crossed your arms, this is one battle he would not be winning. Android or not, your stubbornness was not something to be so easily reckoned with. Connor let out a long sigh, “Fine. You clean yourself, and then we can draw a bath and I’ll assist you with your hair.”

You’d made the mistake of admitting to him that you hadn’t exactly been keeping up with your hygiene while you’d been on the case. You’d been keeping your hair in two braids and have been taking quick showers in between working the case. It was one of your more major flaws. Letting yourself get swept up in the mystery at the expense of your own self-care.

You’d also made the mistake of telling him that it hurt too much to wash your hair, or even attempt to. Now he was insisting on helping you.

Connor looked at your arms and mimicked your posture. “We can stand here all night, detective, I’m not budging.”

You were standing there for two minutes before you realized he was actually being serious. Your chest was starting to ache with the effort of keeping yourself upright. You shifted around and he didn’t even blink. Your skin was starting to buzz with boredom.

After another minute you saw that he wasn���t blinking. Narrowing your eyes and moving closer to his face you waved your hand in front of his face. “Are you serious?” He’d gone into sleep mode, you could tell by the pulsing yellow LED on the side of his face. “Bitch.” And he had ‘coincidentally’ blocked the bathroom exit. Groaning you took the towel in his hands and threw it over his head.

“RK800 wake up.”

Connor’s systems slowly came back online at the sound of your voice. Everything was at 100%, except his optical units didn’t seem to be processing his environment correctly. It took a second before his sensors recognized the fabric of a towel over his head. He sighed and ripped it off his head.

The sight before him had him momentarily stopping. You were in your freshly cleaned tub, bubbles covering your body as you looked at him expectantly. “You wanna help me out or what, sleeping beauty?”

ACTIVATE SEXUAL SUBROUTINES?

SYSTEM OVERHEAT IMMINENT

ACTIVATING COOLING SYSTEM

You looked concerned by the time Connor had managed to calm his sensors, there were parts of him coming online that were not necessary at this moment. He tightened his tie as a poor attempt to get everything back in order. It didn’t work, he was still distracted by your lack of clothes. He could not understand why.

“I’m starting to get creeped out, Connor.” That got Connor’s attention. He never meant to make you uncomfortable.

He moved to sit beside the tub and pulled up his sleeves. “Apologies, detective, my systems were coming back online.” You nodded your head and he hoped you couldn’t see through the lie. Connor used the pitcher beside him to wet your hair and began massaging your scalp as he rubbed the shampoo in.

You moaned as his hands came down to rub your neck. It triggered another cooling process. Much of the rest of your bath was the same, he was struggling with strange impulses that were activating outside his control and programming. When you had leaned your head back on the rim of the tub he’d wanted to press his lips against your stretched neck.

He’d seen humans do it before, but the emotions connected to the act were something Connor wasn’t capable of. He was experiencing what some might call a mental crisis as he helped you wash your hair.

When he was finished, he handed you a towel and went to your room to grab you some pajamas. The picture of you and Cole was facedown on your dresser, moved from the upright position he had placed it in while he had cleaned.

He placed the tank top and shorts you requested on your sink and waited for you in your bedroom. When you walked in you seemed surprised to see him standing by your bed. Your face quickly morphed into one of resignation as you threw your towel on your bed.

Connor made a note to pick it up.

“What now?” He held out the brush in his hands.

“I’ll braid it for you, so you don’t have to worry about styling it with your injured shoulder.” You stopped fidgeting with the end of your shirt and instead gave him a bewildered look. “Is something wrong, detective?”

You cleared your throat before answering, “Nothing it’s- Nevermind.” You sat on your bed with no argument, something Connor was surprised by, considering you seemed to find it necessary to argue with him about everything.

By the second braid you were fully leaning onto his leg, Connor had to keep readjusting so he had room to finish off the braid. The medicine seemed to have fully kicked in, you didn’t make a fuss when he gently guided you under the covers and turned your light off. He knew you were still awake as he made his way to your door.

“Good night, detective.”

He didn’t get a response.

end. — I do not own the characters or the game Detroit: Become Human, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[headkiss]

hi Anna!! can I request reader’s first kiss with our favorite grumpy man joel?

hiii yes u can!!! tysm i hope u like it <333 | 0.9k fluff (he is not that grumpy in this i’m sorry </3), slight mentions of drinking, and a first kiss!

“You’ve never been kissed?”

You’re not exactly sure how you landed here.

It started with you and Joel in his apartment, sitting on either end of the squeaky couch. Then it was Joel offering you a drink, and you accepting. It was your hands brushing as he handed you your glass, your eyes locked on each other’s even from where you sat.

It was the quiet space being filled with conversation that seemed to become easier and easier the more you knew Joel, the more he knew you. Then, he was telling you the story of his first kiss, chuckling quietly when you’d laugh, like it was contagious.

And to Joel, it was.

He hasn’t been one to open up, not in a long time, and he’d love to blame his drink for telling the story but he knows it’s really because of you. That weight that sits on his chest lifts just a bit when you’re around.

He can’t even remember the last time he laughed, the last time he talked about anything that had happened pre-outbreak. And here he was, all because you sat beside him. What a fool.

So, naturally, after finishing his story he’d asked, “what about you?”

You didn’t want to lie to him, not when he’d let you in more than he ever has before, even though you had to look down at the glass in your hand to say it. “I don’t have a story.”

“Everyone’s got one. Come on.”

“No, I mean. Really, I don’t have one.”

The realization seems to settle then. His lips part, eyebrows furrowed.

“You’ve never been kissed?”

So, maybe you know exactly how you landed here, but you’re not sure what to say. Not when he’s looking at you like what you’re telling him is impossible.

“Nope.”

Joel doesn’t know what to do with himself. On one hand, he’s thinking, there’s no way nobody’s ever kissed you. What with your pretty mouth, shining eyes and all. No fucking way. Then, there’s the fact that, well, nobody’s ever kissed you and that means he doesn’t have to be jealous.

Nobody’s kissed you yet. He could change that. The thought scares him a little.

“Not even since coming to the QZ?”

“Who am I gonna kiss in the QZ, Joel? Robert?” Yeah, right.

“Fuck off.”

“Seriously, other than you, there’s no good option around.”

He swears his ears perk up. Until now, he’d been able to push down what he’d been feeling for you, ignoring it like he does most of his feelings. But now you’re talking about kissing and he can’t stop looking at your mouth. “So you’d kiss me?”

“What?” You look at him. He looks genuine, serious.

“You said other than me,” he says. “So, you’d want to kiss me?”

“Well- um…”

You trail off when Joel sets his drink on the coffee table and then scooches closer to you. His thigh touching yours, his hand reaching out to get your drink out of the way, too.

You’re flustered and unsure of what to do next. Of course you’d kiss Joel. He’s handsome and strong, and though he’s definitely not an open book, you can tell that even when he tries to hide it, he’s a good man.

He’s done bad things (hasn’t everyone by now?) but he’s a good man.

A good man you’d kiss. But you can’t say it. Because look at him and then look at you, there’s no way he’s seriously considering this.

Joel’s hand lands on your thigh, and even through your jeans, it’s a scorching touch. “You can tell me.”

You look at his hand on your leg, then at his face. He bends his head, catching your gaze, daring you to answer.

“I would.”

“Hmm?”

“Joel.”

“You’d let me kiss you?” His other hand has somehow ended up on the side of your neck, calloused fingers holding you gently.

“Yeah. I would.”

He’d like to blame his drink for the next part too. For the way he leans forward and catches your mouth with his.

He starts slow, letting you fall into it. You’re partially convinced you’re dreaming this up, but when you feel Joel’s hand squeeze your thigh, you know it’s real. His lips are warm against yours, slightly chapped but you don’t care because it’s him.

You place your hand on top of his on your leg and intertwine your fingers, letting the other hold his shoulder, like you need the stability.

It feels far too short when he pulls away, and you chase his mouth. He indulges you—and himself—for a bit more, a dance that he’s certainly leading, and even though you have no idea what you’re doing, it feels too good to give a damn. He doesn’t seem to be complaining, either.

This time, when Joel pulls back, he keeps you a couple inches away using the hand on your neck. Your chest is heaving, shocked at what just happened, nervous about what to do next.

“There you go,” Joel says, licking his lips. “Now you have a story.”

“Right. Thanks for that.”

He wants to kiss you again, but he thinks he might lose it if he does. Instead, he fully grabs onto your hand. He doesn’t move away from you, and he knows something’s shifted between you two, but he can tell that you’re still processing the kiss, so he lets you.

You squeeze his hand and hope it tells him enough for now.

And, well, If he wasn’t fucked before, there’s no doubt about it now. You’re trouble.

[ouma-kichi]

Mahiru Koizumi, Peko Pekoyama, Ibuki Mioda, Mikan Tsumiki, and Chiaki Nanami with a crush on yo

LOL SO LIKE. i completely abandoned this account but i felt a little nostalgic and checked on it and this draft was here, it was originally gonna be the whole drv2 cast but i am not finishing this so here is all that is left because if youre for some reason still here you at least deserve this

Info/Warnings: no warnings, besides things that could be considered spoilers for the game ? reader is gender nonspecific, though pronouns r not even used !

---also these first few are from april 14 holy shit---

Mahiru Koizumi:

i guess this would be the most obvious thing, but she would definitely take pictures of you basically constantly

she cant help it okay !! its like every single moment shes with you is so so important to her that she can't help but just snap pictures at every moment

like she already takes pictures all the fuckin time but NOW....

now that she has a subject that she believes to be so effortlessly breathtaking.

now that she has a model who can do something simple- quietly flipping through the pages of a book, breathing softly in peaceful moments, looking at her with sleepy eyes- and look so utterly captivating.

now that she has something worth taking photos of.

she really cant help but take a picture every time you turn to look at her.

its like she sits there for a moment; her eyes widening in the same way the aperture of her lens widens, to take in more light, to take in more of you

and she absolutely makes sure her camera is in focus . she constantly has her focus on you, it simply wouldn't do you justice if her camera didn't do the same

you make her so blushy.

before either of you realize it, she has her camera pointed toward you, with a giggle and a red face

she secretly thinks its a disservice to ignore how perfect you are to her. with a sigh, she believes art with your beauty as the focal point is simply something you deserve.

her camera serves as her eyes, she uses the lens to look at the world

but most importantly, she uses them to look at you

Peko Pekoyama:

oh she is super protective but not in the LOUD CHARISMATIC GOOFY WAY (like akane p much hehe)

instead she's protective in a very silent way

like she doesn't protect you by goin LEMME BEAT THE BAD GUY UP she simply protects you because that's what's natural to her

she would never be the type to scream out how much she cares about you from rooftops, but she's always there beside you

you know she likes you in every moment you're together, she shows it in very quiet and subtle ways

in the way she walks silently beside you, eyes carefully observing for any sense of danger or even just annoyance that threatens you

the way she gently pushes you behind her, when she comes to defuse a heated argument you're in

the way she grips you tight in any possible moment of fear

the way she plays with your hair, her calloused and tired hands gently touching your hair, as she waits for you to fall asleep at night

the way she looks at you, warm eyes and slightly red cheeks

the way she carefully remembers things about you, everything you've ever told her

the way she makes you feel safe

the way she makes you feel held

the way you want to be protected by her

the way you want to be held by her

Ibuki Mioda:

oooowowoowo she would definitely be like super straightforward about it

i mean this is ibuki we're talkin about !!

and shes very loud about it too

like she'll do shit like stereotypical shit like writing songs about you or serenading you at concerts

she probably named an album after you, and she used like a voicemail from u as like the intro to one of her songs

its like her brain just NEVER EVER shuts up about you

first of all, she is barely ever apart from you .. she absolutely will constantly be at your side just because she wants to laugh with you

but even when you're apart she's still just !!!!!!!!!!!!!! thinking about you !!!!

so of course she just writes every single soft feeling for you and word vomits it all into songs

the first few months after she realized she really liked you was a period where literally every song she wrote was just .. about you

there's a solid chunk of her discography that is just

(listen i really wanted to write nonsense song titles for ibukis section)

Sugary Sweet Lovesick Girl

Butterflies In Digestive Organs

An Eye For An Eye (And My Eye's On You)

Crushing Hard, Ms. Hydraulics

Puppy Love For Barking Dogs

I Should've Brought My Inhaler (With The Way U Take My Breath Away)

Sights for Sore Eyes, Touches for Tired Hands

it's easily her biggest form of expression, and she has so much to say about you

so be prepared for her next album to be full of references to the days you spend together

references to your face and the way your eyes look at her

and references to all her feelings for you

Mikan Tsumiki:

oh man she is so obsessed with you

like at first shes like U-UM A-A-ARE Y-YOU P-PRANKING ME ? bc youre so fucking nice to her

obviously she is not used to gentle treatment, i think that's partially why she fell for you so fast

she has never been treated in a kind and soft and loving way in her entire life, and now ?? some mf just genuinely wants to be around her

you just wanna be with her

and she very much wants to be with you

i mean she has never been treated with any sort of respect ever, and she is so insecure and afraid ..

and suddenly, you come along and you treat her with care and with love

slowly but surely, she starts to realize that you genuinely care about her and you're safe and you're not tricking her and she is just. so smitten

very much following her whole "you... are the one who has forgiven me..." dialogue from the game

she realizes, every time she cries out and begs for you to forgive her (for something you didn't even care about), you will always just look at her with a smile

you'll always look at her and say it's okay

because you forgive her.

so she never wants to be away from you, and most of the time you're never separated anyways

she clings to you, because you make everything feel okay. you make her feel okay when she panics or starts to tremble.

when she can hardly speak from anxiety, when she starts to spiral

when it feels like the entire world is falling apart, you make it okay

even if it's just for a moment,

everything's okay

because she knows you'll forgive her

---this part is frome june 25 lol---

Chiaki Nanami:

oh she is really fucking soft and cute

i think this is really obvious but she would absolutely make you play games with her constantly

she basically lives, breathes, and eats games so its kinda a no brainer here

and it's very important to her

because she isn't good at dating games, she doesn't quite understand the inner workings of human interaction, and she certainly doesn't know where to even begin with talking to you

she really doesn't want anything to be awkward or weird

and so... games

sometimes when you're playing, she sits there, with her cheeks all puffed up and her cat hood on, focused on whatever game she decided to show you that day

before sneaking small glances at you, glances that probably go unnoticed on your end

but man those small glances and the little moments she spends playing with you really mean a lot

because she only really knows how to connect with people via video game

[cherriiiepiee]

“Why won’t you choose me?”

john marston x f!reader

summary !!!! — you’re johns side chick but you’re getting pretty tired of it so you tell john u or abi.. unfortunately he won’t leave his wife for you.

warnings !: smut at the first part (not rlly smut srryyyy) mostly just angst, johns gets drunk for a lil lol and a stinky cheater lol……. I think thatst it !!! ^_^ enjoyyy 😴😴

i feel so bad for abi in this :c i love her smm ill make her smth soon !!

this is kinda short so i do apologize !! i don’t have time to make it longer :((

—

"Thank you, sweetheart. I needed this." John pressed his forehead against yours, the glimmer of sweat and the lingering scent of cigarette smoke filling your nostrils. Cupping your hips with his calloused hands, sliding his length out of your throbbing hole. You let out a whiny moan at the loss feeling of him inside of you.

"I know — I know, I’ll see you later?" John responded, you sighed softly. John was attempting to urge you to leave his tent quickly due to the rising tension within him. Johns heart was racing at the thought of his wife, Abigail, approaching his tent and finding you half naked in Johns tent as his cum rested on your chest. He personally never cared for aftercare, not with you. You were just something to get his stress out. John quickly grabbed a rag and began rubbing off the mess off of you, burying the rag deep in his pocket, making a mental note to throw it away later.

"John.. I, er — can we talk about this? I don’t —" Your sentence was cut short by John's abrupt intervention, as he hastily shoved you out of the tent. Without giving you a chance to speak, John rushed around, frantically tidying up the cot, completely ignoring your presence.

—

Another heated argument erupted between John and Abigail, yet this one was worse for the both of you. Abigail was growing more suspicious with each passing moment, she began questioning the mysterious marks resting on John's neck. The outlaw was at a loss for words, utterly incapable of formulating a believable lie.

“It’s nothin’ Abigail.. just — quit it,” John attempted to pacify Abigail with a gentle rub of her shoulders, his free hand attempting to conceal most of the marks on his neck from her view by making his jacket cover most. She was unwilling to listen to those lies, growing tired of his bullshit and storming off. Johns hands slapped on his face, sighing frustratedly.

John could feel your gaze drilling into his skull, even after he strolled away into his tent. His temper had reached its limit, the pressure of his situation piling up on him as he responded in his usual brash manner. "What? I ain’t in the mood to deal with you either," he scoffed, spinning on his heel and storming off. A shiny bottle was held tightly in his hand, the contents inside indicating his desire for a brief escape from reality.

You never understood Johns relationship with Abigail. Nobody did. Not even John himself.

—

"I'm getting real sick of that attitude," you huffed, hovering above John as he lay flat on his back on the ground. He laughed drunkenly, his words barely intelligible as the alcohol took over his mind. "Why does it matter to you?" John laughed out a response, his words slurred and his speech already incoherent.

"Abigail or me." You firmly demanded, clearly frustrated by John's attitude. The outlaw's drunken wheezing laughter suddenly came to a halt, his sudden shift in expression making it clear he was getting angry. He propped himself up, his voice still slurred. "Are you serious..?" he uttered, his voice growing increasingly furious as he stared you down, his gaze burning into you.

John responded immediately, the words falling from his tongue without a second thought. "I'm not leaving my wife." He spoke through clenched teeth, taking a swig out of his beer before tossing the remainder onto the ground. The bottle broke into numerous shards on the ground, the sharp noise reverberating all throughout the encampment. You listened to him with a sinking heart, but a deep part of you knew his words to be true. You had dared to dream, wanting to believe that he would choose you, oh, how wrong you were.

"You don't love me?" You asked, your voice full of a deep sense of heartbreak and longing. John kept silent, refusing to answer your question, which gave you a clear hint at how he felt. He eventually muttered out a half-hearted "Sorry." before stumbling away, turning his back to you as you remained speechless, your eyes already filled with tears.

—

Everything has become different, John's behavior in contrast to his previous behavior indicating that something had fundamentally shifted in his attitude. He refused to even glance at you, never acknowledging your existence as he put all of his attention towards his wife. The attention he gave her was all the affection and care you'd desired, the sweet love and affection you yearned for. You could no longer help but feel the sting of jealously in your heart, envious of Abigail's privileged position and wishing you could be in her shoes.

You went to sit beside him, offering a small smile in a futile attempt at garnering his attention. However, he simply stood up and walked away, heading towards his shared tent with Abigail and leaving you in the chilly air alone once again. His indifference towards you only served to deepen your sadness, the tears filling up once more as the painful realization set in.

Why would you even think he would choose you?

teehee🙈🙈

[theerurishipper]

A few more things because I am not done talking about this finale.

I know a lot of people think that this issue of Gabriel being seen as a hero and Marinette keeping the fact that Adrien is a sentimonster and that his father is Monarch is going to come back as a major plot point, or that Gabriel isn't really redeemed and that this isn't the end. And I'm not saying I have evidence that it's not going to turn out that way, but like... this is Miraculous we're talking about.

The show which famously tries to offer sympathy to bad people because of their tragic backstory by:

Trying to half-assedly "redeem" Natalie into some kind of super mother figure for Adrien, even though she enabled and participated in his abuse for years and never showed remorse for it, or even took accountability for it. Her callously killing Sentibug is never brought up again either. And she still does not give Adrien the Amok that helps him choose for himself or tell him he is a sentimonster, and yet is framed as a good parental figure for him.

Trying to redeem Andre Bourgeois and frame him as some kind of great person by having him adopt Zoe and send Chloe to live with her abuser by disowning her, even though it's his shitty parenting that let her get to this point. And letting him get off scot-free for all the times he abused his power as Mayor.

Trying to redeem Felix by glossing over such crimes as him giving all the Miraculous to Gabe, him committing genocide, him trying to ruin his cousin's life, him victim blaming Adrien, him returning Adrien's Amok to Gabe, and many such things. All because he had a tragic backstory and cared for sentimonster rights (even though he killed two on-screen with only regret for one of them) so that clearly means that he did nothing wrong and does not need to be held accountable for those things, even though he showed no remorse for it or desire to do better.

And the show which also famously ignores major plot points and leaves them behind with little to no resolution in favor of dropping new bombs on the audience, such as:

Choosing to ignore the Ladynoir conflict in Season 4 by having Chat Noir just push aside his legitimate grievances with Ladybug's bad decisions to continue being her emotional support partner. This conflict was not addressed ever again, even in Season 5, and was left without any resolution.

Neglecting any exploration of Chat Blanc beyond some obligatory mentions now and again to remind the audience of why the show needs more seasons.

The whole plot with the alternate love interests Luka and Kagami, which was built up across a whole season and dismissed within two episodes of the next season so that the writers could focus on the new Love Square drama they came up with for Season 4.

Luka's conflict about knowing Chat Noir and Ladybug's identities, which was written out in one episode, only for it to have been ultimately pointless in favor of having Kagami know it anyway.

These are great examples of how the show neglects to build up and conclude previously established plot points and conflicts in favor of substituting them with other ones and/or does the absolute minimum to somehow write them out in order to move the story forward and focus on other new plot points that they came up with for the new season.

From these, we can understand that:

Trauma is a valid excuse for everything, and a tragic backstory frees you from accountability unless you're Chloe.

And:

Previously established conflicts are not brought up or explored in any meaningful capacity in order to make way for new ones.

Knowing this, I think it's highly unlikely that the show will ever explore this idea of Gabriel not having truly become a martyr and a hero, and that even if it is the case, it will be neglected as a plot point in order to push this Lila thing to the front. At most, we will get a moment where Adrien learns the truth and instantly forgives Marinette for doing what his abuser asked because she did it out of love, and no one will question the implications of this in any meaningful way. This is because Adrien is not allowed to have feelings that inconvenience Marinette in any way, be it his hurt at her keeping secrets from him, or now her siding with his father and outright lying to him, because his role in the story is now that of Marinette's love interest and emotional support partner, and that's all he's good for. And as for Adrien acknowledging that Gabriel was a bad father again, combining the redemption that simply having trauma gives him and the fact that Thomas "Chloe is not an abused child" Astruc doesn't seem to understand the severity of such things, I doubt we will ever see him outright reject his father ever again.

For all these reasons, I really do believe that it is wishful thinking to expect this to be addressed in any way that matters. If it is not forgotten, it will be relegated to a single moment and forgotten after. That is, if it was ever meant to be explored. The writers of this show are... not the best at dealing with this sort of thing, after all. After all I've seen, it is not surprising to me at all that Gabriel was redeemed. There is a clear trend of characters with any motivation that could be construed as sympathetic or with a tragic backstory portrayed as being justified in their actions, having their actions erased and ignored or at the very least severely downplayed for the sake of making them out to be better than they are. Gabriel has been consistently given sympathetic scenes throughout the season, which culminated in this finale which absolves him of every wrongdoing.

And I know people feel like this is clearly not the end, but that's how a lot of people felt about the Ladynoir conflict in Season 4, and look how that turned out. This show has always been bad at dealing with nuance. An abused child is portrayed as irredeemable and evil, and her enabling father is portrayed as a good person for giving up on her (I don't even like her, but damn). There is a trend of demonizing those characters who really should not be, and offering sympathy to characters who haven't earned it. I have no trouble at all in believing that Gabriel is supposed to sympathized with and redeemed by the end. He gets his happy ending, he gets what he wanted, and his actions make the world a better place.

I've seen the idea that Gabriel actually lost floating around, but did he? He already knew he was dying, and he had, to some degree, come to terms with it. And in the end, he was clearly very happy with just dying if it meant being able to make his wish. His end is clearly portrayed as him making the ultimate sacrifice to wish for a better world, as one last good thing he does for his son. It's portrayed as him asking Marinette to hide all this from him to protect him. Of course, anyone with common sense can see that this is still really controlling and manipulative, but the show pretty clearly frames it as a selfless act. The line "all the times I tried to be a good father," isn't framed as the delusional statement it is. He's smiling in that scene, surrounded by light, and that's not the framing for someone who's supposed to be read as manipulative and evil at that point. The writers seem to genuinely believe that the man was a good father at some points. I've also seen others say that clearly Gabriel was not redeemed by the end because he refused Marinette's hand, but that's not really true. He did paralyze her, but then he freed her and returned all the Miraculous, and Marinette ends the season by fulfilling his dying wishes and letting the world know he was a hero. He paralyzed her, but then he also clearly listened to her. He was also genuinely emotional. Her words did reach him and it is framed as him making a "selfless choice" even though it clearly is not.

I've also seen people say Adrien's reaction isn't necessarily acceptance of Gabriel's heroism since he might be trying to cope with his loss by convincing himself Gabriel was a hero, or that abused children often cannot recognize that their parent is not a good person. And I agree, but that is clearly not what is happening here. Adrien has already expressed disgust for who his father is, and it is possible for him to fall back onto old thoughts and feelings regarding him, but that isn't what's going on here. This here, is Adrien being fed a lie that his father was a good man and a hero by people he trusts. This is Adrien being told what to think and feel, because there are statues of Gabriel being erected and Ladybug spreading the word that he is a hero. This is Gabriel's abuse being erased to portray him as good. And Adrien, after spending the whole season working up to calling Gabriel out, ends the season with hoping to be like him.

And I've seen arguments about how episodes like Chat Blanc and Ephemeral were there to show us that Adrien facing his father isn't a good idea because his reaction makes him vulnerable, but then... why would you write that! Why would you set the protagonist up with this plot point only to write reasons to leave him out of his own plot and character arcs? What about that is good writing? It only makes this finale more deserving of critique! It is not the defense it's trying to be. It just shows they couldn't care less about their own narrative.

I get that this could lead to a potential arc about trust and honesty and all that, but... we've done that before. How many times will Marinette learn the same lesson? How many times will Adrien forgive her for it? How can you even forgive something like this? And even if it all comes to light, what purpose does this serve in anyone's arc? Gabriel is dead, so there's no consequences for him. Marinette has been "learning" the same lesson for two seasons now, and not even losing all the Miraculous made her stop keeping secrets. And what more does it contribute to Adrien's arc to have him learn the truth later rather than now? How does it add to his story to know that everyone he trusts lied to him? Nothing, if you think about it. It really takes away from his story, because he can no longer confront the man who did this to him, he can no longer get that closure, because Gabriel is gone! Sure, it'll be dramatic and all, but that's all it is! But that is how Miraculous operates: shock value and dramatic scenes over consistency and character arcs. Which is why characters like Marinette aren't allowed to retain the lessons they should have learnt ages ago, and characters like Adrien are actively pushed away from their arcs to make way for some other drama.

And this is me saying this while believing they aren't going to bring it up anyway. How many times have we seen this kind of thing happen? For a conflict to be set up only to be ended unceremoniously with no proper conclusion? What reasons are there to believe that the show will actually follow through with this plot? Other than speculation, I mean. I don't see any. The ending did not indicate that there was anything wrong with what happened. The seasons prior set up the conflicts for the next season in the finale episodes. In Season 3, we had Gabe fixing the Peacock and Marinette becoming the guardian. In Season 4, we saw Monarch rise and Marinette lose all the Miraculous. In Season 5, we see Lila get the Butterfly Miraculous and that light that scared her or whatever it was. But we never see any set up for this being a plot point. There is no point in which we are supposed to think this is wrong. A set up, for example, would be something like Marinette looking to the Gabriel statue with a frown, or Adrien feeling unsettled somehow. But there's nothing like that. For all intents and purposes, Gabriel is done and there are new threats to move on to. And removing all that stuff with Lila, it just seems like it could be a solid series finale. The conflict is over, all the characters are back and together and happy, the main couple kisses as the theme music plays in the back in a scene that's clearly the sort of scene used in the ending of a show, and no one even hints at anything being wrong. It's all audience interpretation, and quite frankly there's no real reason to believe it's setting up something. Something was already set up and it wasn't the thought that this ending is in any way flawed. It's a charming, idyllic ending where all the characters are clearly happy and content, basking in the end of Monarch.

And what he did is not clear at all. Did he not actually rewrite the world? It seems like he just traded his life for Natalie's (and Emilie's???? Is that her?), because Hawkmoth still existed here, the Alliance rings still exist, which means everything happened exactly how it did, and the only thing that's changed is that Natalie has recovered. But this just makes the "clearly something isn't right" argument less valid. This isn't Gabriel's "ideal world," which needs to be fixed, this is just the normal world, where there is a statue of Gabriel only because Ladybug told everyone he was a hero. The things that are being done are completely against everything Gabriel ever believed in, so clearly the world is not based on his ideals, and it hasn't been rewritten. So, the only one really responsible for Gabriel being seen as a hero is Marinette (this is not a criticism of Marinette btw, just the writing). This is just the normal world, and the only thing that needs to be "fixed" is that Marinette should tell the truth. But the writers clearly think that Gabriel is fully redeemed, so there isn't anything that needs to be fixed. So why would they address this plot point again? They have no reason to.

And if he did rewrite the world, then the writers just made Gabe rewrite everything and everyone's memories so that he didn't have to be held accountable by anyone, especially the son he abused. That's going to be even harder to fix.

Any resolution to something I don't believe will be resolved anyway will undoubtedly a side story or a minor plot point. Remember, this is the show which is notorious for setting up plot points only to do nothing with them in the end. Everyone was so hyped about the resolution to Luka discovering both Mari and Adrien's identities only for the writers to decide Kagami fit that role better and shittily write Luka out in one episode. Everyone was talking about how Luka keeping secrets would undoubtedly have massive repercussions only for no one to give a shit about it and simply write Luka out for a few episodes and have him come back with no consequence in the finale. And this is a pattern for this show.

All this to say that no, we're probably not going to address this. It hasn't happened before, and I doubt it will happen this time. I've tried to give this show chance after chance, but it never delivered, and I don't trust it to do so anymore. I'll take all this back gladly if it does deal with this conflict well, but as of right now, I feel very confident in putting this post up.