I Type Stuff And Post It, Maybe. @dream-woke - Tumblr Blog

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings: Smut of all kinds, this is filthy and sad, angst, like heartbreaking angst

Word Count: 1.7k

A/n: Anon requested this one! "Can you please do a Rafe Cameron imagine where the reader is a Pogue and has a secret friends with benefits with Rafe, which was going well until they started catching feelings for each other and became increasingly jealous. Thank you so much!" I love this angsty, smutty, fluffy thing- it's so fun.

redheadspark

Sparrow

Summary: The Teleporting Female Eternal didn’t want to loose Druig after what happened at Tenochtitlan. So she made a promise to check on Druig and make sure he was okay.

Little did she know that visiting Druig at his home for the next 400 years sporadically would make her feel more at home than ever before.

Inspired by this song:

W/C: 9,719 words (It’s Lengthy! Sorry!)

Warnings: Just PURE FLUFF :D

A/N: I apologize in advance for how long this one is! OMG I just started writing and it all came out in one day!

So sorry if it seems rushed or poorly edited, I tried as best as I could! Please enjoy :)

—————————

Tenochtitlan

“Druig!”

You skidded to a halt in the middle of the jungle, the humid air was sticking all over your skin and your heart was going 100 miles per hour. It all happened within minutes, minutes of chaos and heartbreak. You saw it all unfold in front of your eyes: one minute you were seeing a mass group of innocent people being slaughtered right in front of your eyes, not being able to do anything to stop or eliminate the threat.

The next minute, your family was fractured.

You searched the darkness, the only source of light was the small glow of the city that was still on fire, far away from you but enough to give a tint of light in the air and the sky. The sounds of the jungle were filling your ears, having you think you barely missed him as he took the last cluster of soldiers with him under his mind control. Your heart was about to drop, thinking that you already lost him for good.

“You shouldn’t be out here all alone, little sparrow,”

You heard him behind you using your nickname, almost creeping up along your backside as you turned quickly. There he was, standing off on his own in the middle of a small opening in the jungle. You scanned his face as you walked over the last remaining feet, searching his face and eyes to see if he was okay. You barely had time to reach out and talk to him when he stormed down the temple stairs. But now that he was there, alone in the jungle, you had a sense of both relief and dread going over you. You inwardly sighed in relief that he looked okay, but you just stared at him with sadness in your eyes.

“Thought I lost track of you,” You said in a breath, looking past for him a brief moment, “Where's—”

“They’re all safe. I made sure of that,” Druig answered you before you could finish, not in a bite as he did before when he snapped at Ajak and Ikaris, but gentler and in a soothing way. Maybe he saw the distress on your face and maybe he heard it in your voice, but he seemed like a different person when he was talking to you. You looked back at him directly in the eyes as he shifted in his stance. He had his hands folded in front of him, almost ready for anything you were going to tell him. Did he think you were going to scold him, to coax him into going back?

dameronology

slipping through my fingers (frank castle)

summary: frank castle has a lot of pride - maybe too much to admit just how in love with you he is

(fem! reader - i am so sorry for using specific pronouns in this, it's just the way i ended up writing it but pls know all my other fics are g.n if u would like to check them out!)

warnings: so much language, mentions of injury, frank being frank, blood, usual canon typical violence

- jazz xx

Matt Murdock liked to tell his friends that you'd met at work.

Work being that you were both vigilantes who tended to accidentally rip the shit out of Hell's Kitchen.

Things then hadn't panned out the way you'd expected. And even what you'd thought was impossible had happened, it only continued. Life kept getting weirder and weirder, barely staying the same for weeks at a time.

This time two years ago, you see, Matt Murdock had been your everything. He was a complicated man; a contradictory one too. There wasn't anything specific in the Bible about putting on a devil suit and going out at night to beat the shit out of criminals, but he didn't like to think about that. Vigilantes probably hadn't existed in Biblical times, right? So there wasn't anything technically wrong them. That's what you had joked to him the first time you'd met on a roof-top exactly twenty six months ago. It had only taken a few more sarcastic jabs at his job, faith, and personality in general before he'd fallen head over heels for you.

ruinsoftheempire-deactivated202

Playing as female V when Panam asks you to no homo live with her forever

farewell-itoshisoup

Red Sky at Morning: Part 1 (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Summary: Daryl never expected a college-educated city girl to fall for him, and you never expected a rough-around-the-edges country boy to catch feelings for you. But the apocalypse is the great equalizer, and in these end times, all you have to hold onto is each other.

Notes: 3700 words, set pre-Season 1. A little note for my readers of colour, because I’m trying to keep this reader as racially ambiguous as possible: Merle is racist as hell, but he’s also probably rude enough to indiscriminately harass any young woman, so that’s what’s going to happen here! More notes at the end of the chapter about the medical/scientific stuff.

Day 1

“Patient was flown in from Linden County Hospital just now, in critical condition after a thoracic gunshot wound 4 hours ago. Bullet’s fragmented so badly that they couldn’t do the surgery on site.”

Your teeth clench hard and pain shoots through the side of your head. Temporomandibular joint dysfunction, you note to yourself. I gotta stop grinding my teeth and get myself a nightguard. Of course, that’s the least of your worries as a resident in Emory Hospital’s Trauma Care Department, undergoing trial-by-fire even though you’d only gotten your MD a week ago. With the hospitals overwhelmed these days, you hardly have time to sleep, let alone commit to any self-care.

“Shit,” you grit out, rounding the corner. “Pulmonary artery damage?” you guess.

Nurse Johnson nods beside you, her eyes scanning the clipboard. “It’s pretty bad. Bad enough that Linden County couldn’t do it themselves. I’ve seen Dr. Diaz handle worse, but⁠—”

“But she’s not available to supervise, huh?” Your fists clench, and you notice the moisture between your fingers. They’ll dry out again after you wash your hands for the fourtieth time today, at least. “She still tied up with that freakish new disease?"

Johnson nods vigorously, and you frown. Emory, Piedmont, Northside: all of the hospitals in Atlanta and far beyond it are being burnt through by a novel infectious agent with an apparent mortality rate of 100%. Almost fucking unheard of, you think. Rabies is also 100%, you suppose, and your pet theory is that the new disease is a genetically related virus, except the prophylactic rabies vaccine is fucking useless. The rabies immunoglobulin shots⁠—useless. Antibiotics, antifungals, antivirals⁠—useless. Even symptom treatment, palliative care—useless. No one knows what the fuck is decimating the American people, and worse yet, the military is fucking around in the hospitals now. Your pathologists and hospital-affiliated scientists can’t take a look; only the CDC and USAMRIID have access to samples now.

The one saving grace is that the new disease isn’t that contagious. As long as patients are bound up and muzzled in the aggressive phase, they can’t infect any of the hospital staff, though of course, no one likes to tie up their patients. Do no harm, the Hippocratic Oath echoes in your mind, that vow you’d made to yourself upon becoming a doctor.

But the American medical system has no choice right now.

As the two of you walk toward the surgery room, you can’t help but notice the feverish bodies strapped down to gurneys, moaning through their surgical masks and sweating through their gowns. The hospital is so overwhelmed that patients are spilling out of rooms and almost covering every inch of wall in the hallways. Poor souls.

But none of that matters right now. When you enter the surgery room, the world around you disappears. You can’t hear the moaning patients and thoughts of Doctor Diaz leaves your mind. There’s only your patient from Linden County on the operating table, only his pallid face and the bullet fragments in his chest.

You glance down, the dressings on his leg not escaping you either.

"How’d he end up like this?"

Johnson glances down at her notes.

"He’s a Sheriff’s Deputy. Got shot in an altercation while on duty. Got a wife and son at home."

Your mouth thins, and you glance at the patient’s wristband, eyes sweeping over his name. Poor guy, you think. I’ll get you home, Rick Grimes.

Day 5

You don’t realize what the novel infectious agent really is until you see a patient die for the first time.

Keep reading

meiliravengard

kawacy

demon slayer

acc--deactivated

-ˋˏ 𝙘𝙪𝙙𝙙𝙡𝙚𝙨 ˎˊ- 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

don't ask what this is, I was at school today and thought "does sukuna know what a hug is? has he ever experienced it?" and then I hopped onto the fluff train

sitting on the bed as you were reading, you barely heard the steps approaching the bedroom.

Yuji had gone to the kitchen to make himself a drink and take an aspirin for the headache that had bothered him the entire day.

so when you noticed a figure stepping into the room, you rose your gaze with a smile on your face.

but upon noticing the dark marks on his half naked body, your smile faltered a little.

"what's wrong with Yuji?" you asked Sukuna, noticing how the curse ran his eyes over you.

a smirk appeared on his lips.

"little shit felt too tired to stay in control, so I used the opportunity."

you nodded and turned back to your book.

by now, you were used to being alone with Sukuna.

during the first times, you had been frightened that he might hurt you to put Yuji under pressure or take you as some kind of hostage, but he had never done anything to you up til now.

probably because he didn't consider a mere human like you to be worth the time and effort.

sometimes, you even talked a bit with each other, even though he always kept his sarcastic behaviour and answered with rude replies.

but at some point, you had got used to it.

you saw him massaging his temple and you let down your book once more.

"Yuji had a headache earlier, that's why he went to the kitchen to take an aspirin"

Sukuna let out an annoyed groan, his deep voice echoing through the room.

"great, he only gives me the opportunity to switch when his body is in a shitty condition."

for a second, it was silent and you only watched him.

then, you rose your voice.

"why don't you come to bed?"

he rose a brow and searched for a hidden threat or trap in your words.

when he didn't find any, a wide, evil smirk appeared on his lips, his fangs shining in the dim light of the bedroom, his four eyes staring right at you.

"oh, are you that needy? that brat can't give it to you the right way, huh?"

you only shook your head and patted the spot next to you, the linen still warm from Yuji's body.

"I meant to cuddle. to rest helps with the headache."

Sukuna stared at you for a second, then, a laugh fell from his lips.

"you really are daring, asking ME, the king of curses to cuddle. I'm not your lap dog, so don't treat me like one"

"why don't you try it? are you scared of something?"

his smile disappeared and his upper lip twitched a little in disgust, especially when he saw the little grin on your lips.

"I'm scared of nothing." he growled back.

before you were able to answer, new pain rushed through his head and he grimaced, massaging his temple again.

mumbling something you didn't understand, he stepped in front of the bed, hands buried in yuji's sweatpants and looking at you as if he waited for instructions.

you gave him a short, confused look, then, you patted the spot next to you again.

"lay down."

he rose a brow, but followed, laying down on his back on the mattress.

you suppressed a smile when he gave you an awaiting look and you rested your body in the sheets as well, stretching an arm out on the pillow.

'"you can rest on my arm."

he gave you a kind of bewildered look.

"isn't the one in control supposed to wrap their arms around the other?"

you shrugged your shoulders.

"it can be comforting to be the little spoon sometimes."

Sukuna clicked his tongue, but did as you said, resting his head on the pillow so that your arm was right inside the empty space his neck created.

"you humans have some fucking weird trends. 'spoon', what a stupid word for this..." he growled and observed how you moved closer towards him.

when your hand rested on his shoulder, he flinched and tensed his body.

"don't worry, it's okay." you said, already expecting a rude answer.

you weren't surprised when he growled "don't act like you could hurt me, lowlife." and you smiled to yourself while you wrapped your arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer.

Yuji's skin was still warm and even though Sukuna was in control right now, his limbs and body felt just like they usually did.

your hand rose to the back of his head and you started to run your fingers through his soft hair, hearing how Sukuna let out a little growl at the massage against his head.

it almost sounded like a purr.

like an angered, bitter cat that allowed a human the honour to pet it.

you didn't say anything, just smiled while you rested your lips against his hairline, the exact same position you often laid in with Yuji.

and Sukuna seemed to notice, tried to remember what his vessel did whenever you embraced him like this.

he hesitantly rose his hand, as if he wanted to rest it on your hip, but eventually, he pulled both his hands to his chest, while he pulled his legs to his body, making himself smaller than he was.

after a few minutes in which you had just massaged his head, you dared to look down at his face, seeing that he had closed all four of his eyes.

when you started smiling again, one of the smaller ones opened and gave you an accusing glare.

"stop smiling at me like an idiot. you look ridiculous." he ordered with a growl.

you didn't stop, but you brought your mouth back to his hairline, so that he wouldn't see it.

"yea, yea, sure." was your sarcastic reply, while you pulled the blanket over both of you.

usually, the curse would've snapped something back, but right now, you felt how he slowly hurled deeper inside your warmth, reducing the space between the two of you.

he seemed so small and vulnerable like this, eyes closed, his body curled up to not grow cold.

suddenly, you wondered how hard it must've been, to not feel any touch or warmth for over 1000 years.

maybe, he had never experienced anything like this.

maybe he had been so uncertain about what to do because no one had ever put their arms around him.

the thought actually hurt you a little bit and a spark of sympathy for the demon in your arms bloomed inside of you.

when you heard him mumble a low "you're warm" against your neck, your smile grew and your body relaxed.

you continued to caress his scalp, drawing little circles against it that made him let out soft purrs, until his breathing became placid and slow.

slowly, your hand trailed towards his cheek and caressed the marks on Yuji's cheekbone, your touch careful to not wake him up.

unable to decide if you were lucky or just insane to have the king of curses fall asleep in your arms, you watched his face, the four closed eyes, the lightly parted lips.

even in sleep, he continued to look a little tensed, a small furrow still stuck in his brows.

you slowly rose your index finger and gently caressed the hair of his right eyebrow, before you allowed it to slide higher, following the outlines of the mark on his forehead.

you had no idea what they meant and Yuji probably did not know either.

right now, you noticed how little you actually knew of Sukuna, even though he was always around you, hearing every word the two of you spoke, probably being fully aware of your feelings and thoughts

but you decided to just allow him this little rest for now, to let him experience the warmth that radiated from you and wrapped him in safety.

after placing your hand at the back of his head again, you wanted to close your eyes, but before you were able to, you saw the marks slowly vanishing.

Yuji's hair slowly sank down, his face relaxed and he hurled deeper into your embrace, wrapping his arms around you in instinct.

a little chuckle went through you as you pushed a kiss against his forehead, loosing your hesitance as you wrapped both of your arms around him.

"maybe if you two didn't fight so much, you wouldn't be so tired all the time." you mumbled, before you rested your head on Yuji's, closing your own eyes.

elohimes

Sacrifice

firelonewolf-deactivated2024052

Bullets to Before

Chapter One: Flying Monkey

Pairing: Homelander x Cop!Reader

Summary: You're an officer of NYPD, a woman not like the rest. He's a superhero.

A/N: I do not condone any actions he's done because he's a douche. I just thought you guys might like it. I should mention someone inspired this, but I don't remember their name. Hope you like it!

Police sirens constantly blared outside of the building where there was a hostage. Around 9 am on the clock it was alerted that a bank was being robbed to include there was a hostage situation. You drove up with a screech of your tires as you pulled up. Dressed in you're uniform, black jacket unbutton enough to wear you could see you're sky blue collared shirt. You're black-tie complimenting your outfit, along with you're sunglasses that have a blue lens. You're black dress pants with shoes. You didn't wear your heart, but you kept your hair tied back in a bun. You're walking talkie remained clipped to you're uniform as you made your way to the front of the bank surrounded.

You jogged up to the chief. "What we got?" You inquired to him as you glanced at him.

"Officer (Y/L/N)! So glad you could join us today." He says unhappily to you, you growl under you're breath and do an eye roll. You didn't mean to be late before, but it happened due to traffic. It got to the point where you had to flick on the sirens of the car and speed down the highway. You are late by five minutes. He was strict all by himself, but he was rougher on you than anyone in on the force. You could never understand why, you're Grandfather Ry, claimed he wanted you to strive to exceed his expectations. "You're lucky I don't fire your sorry arse! Coming in late when the alert was five minutes ago!"

You sighed at this before taking in a deep breath to keep you're cool. This week hasn't been the greatest, one of the cattle got loose from your grandfather's ranch so you spent 4 am to nearly 6 am getting it back the other day. Then yesterday you got food poisoning and ended up having to go home. Then came today, with the entire dang traffic. Now you're boss fuming at you for being a couple of minutes late, you only hope this was it for today.

Sometimes you wanted to quit but reminded yourself this is what you signed up for. Hatred and possibly difficult cases to deal with, all to help people and save some lives. "Apologises, Chief. I'm so sorry, it's just traffic when trying to get into the city is a pain. Especially with a car wreck at one. What do you need me to do?" You inquired he had that foul expression as if he was dead seriously mad still.

"You got a strategy?" He inquires to you. You nod in response. "Good. Present it." He demands to you, you went to the hood of the car where a map of the building was laid out. "He's more to the south, towards the east wing. We can't do anything, he's got six hostages." He explains to you, you study it before seeing the back of it marked. An exit gate was in the far back, did he block it? You wondered cooking up a scheme.

"I'll check the back door. IF its unlock, I'll go through the back, and you'll take four go through the front. But I'll have to check the back exit to know, if not I'll have to find another way, sound good?" You inquire seeking approval, he gave a firm nod at this. You take a vest and strap it on quickly. Jogging to back while keeping a firm grip on your gun attached to your belt.

Rain could be smelt from the sky as if it'll pour down anytime soon. You glanced around the back making sure no one by any chance was hiding. Inaudibly as possible you opened it praying that it was, and much to you're surprised, it was. You made sure to hold it slightly open and grabbed your walkie talkie. "Chief, the door is unlocked, do you copy? Send four men to the front. I'll go through the back. I repeat the door is opened."

"Officer (Y/L/N), go in" he commands. Stealthy as possible you enter and shut the door silently as possible. You grabbed your pistol and kept it down to your site ready to fire when needed. Squatting down you searched for the robber, seeing them with the mask. Keeping the hostages in a file line on their knees. You had to be calm, firm, and direct. You had to think fast, as you sucked in a breath as you're back pressed against the back of the counter. Swiftly you got making sure to keep your steps muted, you stay behind the counter. You heard the front door opening, it must've of been the four. "NYPD! Get on your knees and get down!" You commanded the robber. To you're dismay, it wasn't the other four cops, but a single man. Uniform of blue and red, a fricken sure.

"You heard the lady," he says. "Put the gun down," he commands him as well. The robber debated which one to shoot, the cop or the fricken sure. His eyes flicked left to right before taking a pure guest as decided to shoot the officer. Before you could get down, the bullet bashed into you're shoulder. Knocking the wind out of you, then heard a scream.

You're ears ringed as you forced yourself up and saw the robber in the hands of the super, his hand was burnt as well. The f just happened? You thought to yourself. Within seconds you untying the hostages and leaving the bank. Luckily, the bullet vest stopped it. But you could feel a bruise forming underneath it all.

You left the bank wincing at the pain beneath you're collarbone. Immediately you took off the vest by your car, to examine the damage of it. Pinkish red was around a small cut showing a small amount of blood. "Shit" you muttered under you're breath. Across you saw the robber being dragged to the back of a police car. Than dug through you're glove department for an alcohol wipe. You began to dab the damage left. You knew that was gonna bruise later. Then while leaning against it, you saw that fricken sure, with a smug smile. Despite the photographers around snapping photos of the scene, you marched over. "Hey! What the f, dude!?"

Shocked he turned to face you. Yet still, try to keep that smug face that the public loved too much. "Excuse me?" He says it as if no one ever talked to him like this, it has to be bull.

"You heard me." You growl at him, this caught the awareness of your chief. But it's not like you cared. "Listen, I don't remember you being part of this operation! Intruding on it wasn't smart! You could have got him to kill one of the hostages!"

"You're right," he simply says keeping that fake smile. "You're the true hero-"

"Cut the bs!" You remark angrily. Bolling inside of you as you're blood. You're head felt as if it wanted to explode like a volcano at this. "This operation was handled! You flying monkey."

A chuckle escaped from his mouth at this. As if he wasn't taking you seriously. "Yeah, I see that Officer-" he glances for your name tag. "-Officer (Y/L/N), and look where that got you," he gestured to the sight of bruising cut.

"Imagine if you didn't put on that vest. You could have been killed and got the hostages." And was about to walk away, "oh! Oh! How about what if your vest didn't stop the bullet! You could die within seconds if you didn't make it to the hospital. I will rather be thankful if someone such as me saved me from death. Because I'm doing my job just like you, so thank you would be nice," he says with that fake smile. What? Thank you? You didn't want to, you shouldn't have to say it. Being entitled after what could've happened shouldn't be.

He was expecting one while glaring down at you. Not backing down you glared back at him refusing to back down. "How about exactly when monkeys fly?" You say about walking away then stop in your tracks. "Oh, wait they already do! I mean exactly on the 8th of never!" You growled walking away. Marching back to you're car, and didn't notice the camera phone on you.

"Officer (Y/L/N)!" You paused before entering it with that dark look in your eyes. "Finish and file the paperwork, then go home!" That's bull, you thought to yourself at that moment.

Instead of wanting to yell about how much of bs it was, you swallowed it down. "Of course, chief." You sigh before slamming the door shut and begin to drive back to the station. You caught the eye of that super, who had the smuggest look on his face. It reminded you of how a sibling smiles when they got the other in trouble. The victory was glistening in those eyes, and you wanted to punch him in the face. Nothing really bothered you, before this crappy week started. Rain began to pour down as you pulled out of the parking lot and began to drive off.

___

The next day entering the station didn't feel the same as usual. You had your coffee in your hands as you walked through in your attire with all eyes on you. More than usual actually, you ignored all the stares and whispers. You sat at your desk and began to place your things while sipping some of you're coffee. "(Y/L/N)! My office now!" You heard a yell from you're chief. You groaned at this but decided to go while taking your coffee in you hand. Entering you saw a woman dressed professionally with blonde hair. Then there was the redhead aside like a servant. Then finally the supe, Homelander.

You didn't bother taking off you're shading. "What's this about?" You inquired to them. Your chief forced a smile upon his face at this while glaring at you.

"Officer (Y/L/N), my name is Madalyn Stillwell. I run the company Vought," she says putting her hand out towards you. You took it shaking it despite not wanting to, but you're mother nagging in you're head always said be polite. "Were here to disgust a new business proposition," she says. Beside her was Homelander with that same smug face as yesterday.

Oh great, you thought to yourself stopping yourself from scoffing at this.

"You're video of arguing with Homelander blew up! The fans adore you already with you're attitude! The comments love the dynamic between you two." The redhead with a big smile says while showing the screen. 1M likes could be seen, with a bunch of comments about both of you.

"You're chief said you're in need of a partner. We propose you and Homelander team up! You're dynamic is interesting between each with you're personalities. It'll be great publicity for the department and Vought!" She explains than pulls out a binder with a piece of paper on it with a black fancy pen beside it. "All I need is for you to say, yes! Then sign here." She says pointing with the pen at the bottom of the page.

With a sip of you're a coffee, you stand up. Then detach the badge and gun from you. "What is she doing?" Stillwell inquires confused at this action. "I'm confused, what is she doing?" You placed the badge and pistol on the desk.

"What are you doing Officer (Y/L/N)?" He hisses from in between his teeth trying to maintain a fake smile.

"Turning in my badge and gun, sir," you remark respectfully. "Because it's a big fat, no," you say directing the glare to Homelander. You catch his eye in the moment. He was about to stand a speak, but you held you're hand out as a stop motion. "Listen you Nazi dreamboat, it's a no. Convince me otherwise," you growled at this. Then turned to you're chief with a dead stare as well. "I'm turning in my badge because I didn't ask for fame! I want to save and help people. Not parade around as if it's all fun and games! Terminate me, go ahead. Because I quit," you say. Then begin to exit the office whole hearing the voice of a supe.

"She doesn't mean that!" He chuckles nervously as you exit the office without another word. You take your stuff and began to hurry back to you're truck throwing part of it in the passenger seat. It was old and painted a cool sky blue color that was calming. You get in the truck and shut it while that supe began to race out. "Hey!" You turned on the engine of the truck feeling pure. "Hey!" You heard him then saw the door be swung open.

"What" you growled at this.

"You know how many people would've signed that in a heartbeat! You walked out of there as if it was a dead-end job." He growled at you.

"Than why don't you go get one of them then?" She questions Part of you knew you couldn't even do it even if you wanted to. Too risky situations, especially for how they like things done.

"What will it take?" Suddenly confusion washed all over you like a wave.

"Excuse me?" You were surprised by this.

"What will it take for you to take the deal?" A laugh croaked from you at this. Was he serious? You could only wonder why this is so important to him.

"What will it take? Money? Promotion? What?" He growled at you.

"Why do you want this so badly?"

"Publicity is important for the company. The more promotion we get, the higher our marketing campaigns go. Now state what you want?" He commands from you. Maybe you should just do it? He seems like the type that won't stop until he gets what he wants.

You scoff at this and rubbed your eyes at this. "Fine. I'll take it, I want my private life to remain the way I want it. I'll take pictures and videos, but you're never allowed to film my home, ever. You're not allowed to release personal information unless I rule it good. My vote overrules all others. My life, my say." She commands him.

"Deal, let's go." You turn off the truck and stepped out still standing by it. Homelander picked up you weren't going, but then turned back. "What?"

"All of this better be mentioned to Stillwell and put on the contract immediately. Not in twenty years, immediately. With copies for me, anything edited out will he withhold in court." You say with your hands behind you're back. "I want my copy immediately after I sign it, tell your boss that." He reluctantly agrees to this. "Now ask me nicely" you command to him. "Come on, on your knee."

Obediently he stood in front of her glances around and then gets down on his knees. "Will please sign the papers?" You pause for a moment as if you're hesitantly about to say, no.

But then you glance down, with a sarcastic smile, and put your shades on you're head. "Yes, I will." Then walk away from as he tries to get back with that super-suit on. "See that wasn't so hard?" You jokingly say while waltzing back into the office.

twinklelilstarkey

Michael Gray

One-Shots

~In the future~

Series

[Prologue] - Y/N’s life after Michael leaves for America to work. {Posted on @billyspotato}

[Part 1] - Michael comes back to Birmimgham with a fiancé. {Posted on @billyspotato}

[Part 2] - Y/N finally sees Michael again, but that comes with meaning Gina. {Posted on @billyspotato}

[Part 3] - Michael meets Y/N at the pub, and let’s just say that the energy is not that positive.

[Part 4] - Y/N and Polly have dinner with not so liked presences.

[Part 5] - Y/N goes back to work and gets injured. While suffering from the pain, a new fear awakens in her dreams.

[Part 6] - The morning after the nightmare makes both Y/N and Michael talk, as well as him ask for some help of his mother.

[Part 7] - The last preparations and the night of the event.

[Part 8] - Days after, Y/N awakes wounded from the unfortunate night of the event she so anticipated.

[Part 9] - Not yet posted

[…]

javis-pendejo-deactivated202105

𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

•Anakin Skywalker explicit X Reader

The Master List

-Summary and Warning List

-Chapter 1

-Chapter 2

-Chapter 3

-Chapter 4

-Chapter 5

-Chapter 6

-Chapter 7

-Chapter 8

-Chapter 9

-Chapter 10

-Chapter 11

-Chapter 12

keyboardpunk

The Hunter The Gods Have Sent

Male!Bloodhound x Fem!Reader

Rating: M(18+) Summary: For some, that battle cry invoked fear. For you, it was a blessing. Warnings: Graphic sexual content, blood and gore, canon typical violence. Reader is also a hunter, but not in the Apex Games. Word Count: 22154

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Your prey truly was beautiful. She stood on lean, nimble legs, powerful and agile, as was the rest of her muscular form. Her fur looked soft as the blades of grass beneath her hooves and was just as green. The antlers atop her head were thin and twirling, much like the branches in the trees above. Her tail, long, skinny and hairless, aside from the bushel on the end, was nonchalantly swooshing back and forth, expressing her comfort. She stood tall and proud, her eyes never resting as she continuously scanned the area around her.

Keep reading

shortythescreen

come over

Warning(s): NSFT/18+, friends with benefits, sex with feelings lol.

Relationship(s): Octane/Female Reader.

Author’s Notes: this was my first post on ao3 and i’m trying to actually start using this blog so. here’s the post, lmao! my spanish sucks but i understand everything, hence the ref to a meme in spanish. :)

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3.

come over?

That’s what lights up your phone screen at damn near three in the morning. You roll over, squinting at the bright screen as you grab it from your bedside table. It’s one of the lamest texts you’ve ever gotten. It’s barely a step up from the even more basic ‘u up?’ and you’re half tempted to leave him on read. Octavio can do better than that.

Yet, you scroll through your compilation of gifs and send him one of a woman rolling her eyes. Sure, it’s disdainful but he now knows that you are, in fact, awake.

About three months ago, you were offered a job by Apex, the corporation running the well renowned Apex Games. The offered pay was astronomical in comparison to what you made at your humble little gig as a thorn in a journalist’s side. Room and lodging would be included in the miniature city built just for Champions and the people who made the games happen.

All you had to do was do what you do best. Take pictures.

Every advertisement, webpage, and piece of merchandise is covered with your pictures of the Legends. Those that you take in the studio given to you and those that you take off the clock. Every picture on your camera belongs to Apex, even with your signature scratched at the bottom of all of them.

Because of this, it had taken a select few Legends time to warm up to you. Others, not so much.

Octavio, better known as Octane, might as well have sat in your lap when you walked in with a camera hanging around your neck.

Though you’re a lot quieter than ‘The Adrenaline Junkie’, you have about as much impulse control as he does. So one night when he’d visited you in your studio a little past business hours, brandishing a bottle of Hennessey Black the size of your head, one thing lead to another and, well.

The events of that night lead to you getting texts from Octavio at damn near three in the fucking morning asking you to come over.

i have a box of wings and a bottle of Smirnoff with ur name on it.

You bite the tip of your tongue. The offer’s tempting.

and other things, if you can keep up. ;)

That, even more so.

Against your better judgment, you text him back with words instead of a gif. You’ll be over in ten minutes. If he drinks all the liquor before you get there, you’re leaving. You imagine him cackling at his screen because if you know him at all, and you do, he’s probably polished off at least a quarter of the bottle on his own.

Octavio’s apartment is a five minute walk from yours but you gave yourself an extra five to brush your teeth and find your shoes. The penthouse suites offered to all the Legends is right across the street from your simple one bedroom.

When you first moved in, you thought maybe Apex Corp wanted you to take paparazzi sort of shots of their competitors. They’ve never asked you to and you haven’t bothered to try, so you guess they just gave you what was available.

Whatever. You don’t mind living in earshot of some of the deadliest people in the Outlands. Especially now that you’re fucking one of them.

God, you never thought you’d be in this position. Sure, you’re not fucking blind, most of the Legends are attractive. Bangalore has a smirk that drops panties and a voice that’s a little more gravelly than the average woman. Wraith’s got the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen, powers or otherwise, and her skin is flawless. Gibraltar could probably defeat half of his opponents by throwing them.

Even those that you can’t see the faces of have appeal – Bloodhound’s shroud of mystery has gained them quite the following online and what Octavio doesn’t show of his face is made up for by his stupid little crop top.

You just… Didn’t anticipate any of them finding you attractive too. Least of all the speedster with a penchant for picking up bad habits. Like fucking the photographer. You run your hand down your face as you exit your house, locking it behind you before jogging across the street to the penthouse suites.

Even if you had toyed with the possibility of warming one of their beds, you certainly didn’t think you’d wind up in Octavio’s. Maybe Elliot, who’s got a reputation for getting around, or Ajay, who’s could crush you with her thighs. Octavio, whose accent and stupid selfies had caught the attention of many Apex fans, was the last legend you expected to end up making your heart do the jitterbug-

It’s not, you’re not, you vehemently remind yourself as you enter the elevator of the Legends’ suites. Absolutely not. No way. You walk down the hallway to Octavio’s door, reminding yourself over and over again you’re most certainly not catching feelings and whatever dance your heart is doing has something to do with the lack of sleep.

Even though that makes no sense, it’s what you tell yourself, because there’s no fucking way you’re into Octavio like that. Not into someone you’re just hooking up with. Not into someone who’s only interested in hooking up.

You knock once on his door and you barely have a chance to step back before Octavio’s tearing it open. His mask is gone and even though you’ve seen his face a million times by now, you still take a moment to breathe him in. He’s got the prettiest green eyes you’ve ever seen, glassy with alcohol, and you notice that he’s in need of a shave, his cheeks tinted dark by pinpricks of facial hair.

“It’s three am,” you tell him.

“Yet here you are, amiga,” he smirks.

“For the booze,” you reply and he snickers, shoving out a plastic cup you hadn’t noticed he was holding. The stench of Smirnoff envelops you and you sigh, snatching it away and shouldering your way into his apartment.

“What are you doing up, anyway?” You ask, flopping on the couch and taking a large enough gulp of your cup to make your nose burn. You squeeze your eyes briefly closed, letting out a little ‘ahh’ as Octavio’s weight sinks the opposite side of the couch.

“Couldn’t stop watching The Flash. But Barry got kinda boring, so I texted you,” he says and you snort, opening one eye to glance at him. You hadn’t even noticed the title glaring at you from the flat screen only a few feet away, the only light in the apartment aside from the stove.

God, he’s so unfairly pretty. He’s resting his tousled head of green hair, the same green as his eyes, in his hand, propped up on the back of the couch. His PLUS ULTRA tattoo peeks out from the three quarter sleeved shirt he’s wearing and you go for your drink, hoping you can excuse the warmth in your chest as Smirnoff.

“Of course you were. You’re so fuckin’ basic.”

“I’m on brand.”

“You’re at home. Alone.”

“Not anymore.”

You snort, finally beginning to feel that warmth in your chest drip down into your stomach. The easy, fuzziness that comes with being here, with drinking and banter and the promise of something so much sweeter.

“Well, thanks for inviting me,” you say, “now where are those wings?”

As promised, Octavio brings you a takeout box with about thirty wings. With liquor brewing in your stomach, you probably could demolish them, but you’re barely buzzed and still willing to be polite.

It’s the wee hours of the morning, so you’re grateful that each of the Legends have soundproof walls. You and Octavio put on old telenovelas, even though your Spanish is slim to none, and he makes you laugh by describing the scenes to you.

“Oho man, she’s such a bitch. The mother basically just told the son’s lover acompáñame a ver esta triste historia.”

“I don’t speak Spanish, Oc,” you remind him around a mouthful of a wing coated in ranch.

“Remember how the girl’s parents died when she was six?” He asks and you nod your head, vaguely remembering the shitty graphics acting as flashbacks. “The son’s mother heard that and might as well have said ‘that’s cute’.”

You were right to assume Octavio had already had a hefty serving of alcohol before he’d texted you, as he brings out the bottle when your glass gets low, a little less than half of it gone. He’s got a higher alcohol tolerance than you and it’s obvious the more you two delve into the Smirnoff.

He smirks at you when you whine about the wings getting low, polishing off what must be your twelfth. You’ve officially had enough alcohol to stop being polite and Octavio loops an arm around your shoulder. When had he gotten so close to you on the couch?

“There, there,” he murmurs into your hair, “there will be wings tomorrow, mami.”

“But I want them now,” you complain, only to completely forget your train of thought as you bury your nose in the collar of Octavio’s shirt. “Fuck, you smell good. Do you always smell this good?”

“I smell like liquor,” he snickers, kissing the top of your head and you shudder as he slides his fingers through the small hairs at the base of your neck.

“And soap. What soap do you use? I bet you use Old Spice. Old Spice is so basic but it smells so fucking good,” you ramble, tilting your head just enough so that your lips brush against his collarbone.

“Gracias,” he hums, tilting his head back a smidge. You take this as an invitation and begin placing careful, open mouthed kisses up the length of his neck.

Octavio sighs through his nose, arm around your shoulders sliding down your side to pull you half into his lap. Your teeth scrape his pulse and his grip on you tightens.

“You didn’t say yes or no,” you absently mumble as he grabs a handful of your ass. He squeezes before you pull back just enough to meet those pretty green eyes of his, dark with want.

“Yeah, it’s Old Spice,” he says, then leans in to devour your mouth with his.

Octavio kisses like he moves. Quick, eager, his tongue pushes into your mouth and makes you groan. You haphazardly drape one leg over his, twisting so your chest is flush against his. He bites your lower lip and you whimper, half grinding against his prosthetic legs, cool against your heat.

His free hand sneaks down to grab your other ass cheek, pulling you up to straddle him. His lips leave yours with a pop and he bites his lower lip as you shudder against his dick jumping under your hips.

“We haven’t even started yet,” you say, allowing him to slip his hands beneath your shirt, gripping your breasts and rolling the peaks under his thumbs. You sigh, continuing, “how are you so hard?”

“How are you so sexy?” He snarks, releasing your tits in favor of grabbing the hem of your top. He pulls it off eagerly, eyes hot.

“You too,” you half beg and he obliges, tugging that snug fitting shirt over his head. You hum, hot with liquor, and with lust, and with the look he’s burning into your chest. He leans back into the couch, drinking in your disheveled state before reaching up to cruelly pinch your nipples.

You gasp, trying to lean into the sensation and alleviate the pain. Octavio only pulls harder, biting his lower lip when you’re almost chest to chest.

“Asshole,” you hiss and he grins, giving you a flash of his tongue piercing.

“You like it,” he says as you relent, going still in his lap. Octavio finally releases his almost too tight grip on one nipple in favor of looping an arm around your waist. He’s torturous to the other, squeezing, rolling, tugging. As a reward for the way you buckled, he slurps the free one into his mouth. You moan, his mouth all wet warmth and cool metal. His thumb flickers teasingly across your other pebbled nipple and you arch your back.

“Oc, please,” you pant and he pulls off of you with a pop, cupping the tit he still has a handle on to flick his tongue across it.

“Por favor? Por favor que?” He half laughs only to break off in a needy groan when you grind against him. “Fuck fuck fuck, okay, stand up for a sec.”

You roll yourself along his dick for a moment longer, relishing in the way his hips instinctually jerk against yours. He squirms beneath you, opting to tightly grab your hips.

“Shit, mami,” Octavio pants, sharply thrusting up before trying to push you off. “C’mon, c’mon, you’re wearing too many clothes.”

You finally climb off him and he follows you forward, sharply pulling down your sweats. A long, sticky trail connects you briefly to them and he outright groans at how filthy that is.

“You’re so wet,” he all but whines, fascinatedly rubbing a finger between your lips. Your breath hitches as he pointedly drags his knuckle across your clit, teasing you with the not quite enough touch.

“Shorts off,” you growl, and he hurriedly obeys. His cock springs free as his shorts hit the carpet and your mouth waters. The tip is swollen and pink, leaking with excitement. You’re half tempted to get on your knees, swipe the pre up with your tongue and put him at your mercy.

“Oh, mami, yes, you can do that for me later,” he babbles, making you realize you’d said that aloud. You try to climb back into his lap, only to have him grab you by the shoulders. You yelp as he tosses you onto your back on the opposite side of the couch, maneuvering himself between your thighs.

You two have been doing this long enough to have done away with condoms and you’re so fucking grateful for that as he pushes himself between your lips. Your slick helps him along as he glides the tip against your aching, swollen clit.

“Oc,” you impatiently murmur and he smirks. Octavio is a bastard at the worst times and not even the bedroom is exempt, because he grabs his shaft and taps the leaking tip of his cock against your clit.

“How bad do you want it, hm?” He asks and if you weren’t so overwhelmed, you’d roll your eyes. You settle for propping yourself up on your elbows and thrusting your hips up. His cock catches on your hole and his breath hitches in his throat.

“That bad, huh?” Octavio breathlessly whispers and you glare at him through the fog of your lust.

“Aren’t you supposed to be quick?”

“You want it to be over? Aw, okay, guess I’ll-“

Before he can pull away, you wrap your legs around his waist and yank him against you. Octavio slips, caught off guard, and he catches himself on the arm of the couch, letting out a strangled groan as the tip of his dick breeches your swollen cunt.

“Fuck,” he grits out, suddenly unconcerned with teasing. He drives himself the rest of the way inside and you sigh, relieved to be so wonderfully full.

“I’m trying,” you gleefully counter and he sharply thrusts into you with a laugh that’s half moan.

You reach around, clawing at his lower back as he fucks into you. His elbow lands on the space next to your neck and you find his hand cupping the crown of your head, simply resting there as he fucks you like he’s trying to win a race.

Octavio moans and curses and whines just as much as you do, his green eyes squeezed shut. You rake your nails up the length of his spine and he groans, giving you an especially brutal thrust. Your mouth falls open and he takes the opportunity to sloppily kiss you, tongue pushing past your lips to twist with yours and he doesn’t taste so much like liquor anymore.

You sob into the kiss as he angles his hips down a little, hitting right there. He gets the picture quickly and he aims just so, abusing that place that makes you see stars. His hips snap into yours and you grab his shoulders for purchase. It’s too much. It’s not enough.

It’s him, pulling away from your kiss to watch you with amazed green eyes. It’s him, grabbing your hips and yanking you onto his dick. It’s him, passing a thumb over your clit, making your eyes roll back. It’s him, hissing your name as his hips begin to stutter and shake. It’s him.

“C’mon, mami, c’mon, I won’t last,” he gasps, fondling your clit desperately and your jaw drops at the sensation. “C’mon, baby, need it, need to feel that tight pussy squeeze my dick, you can do it, do it for me, please, baby, please-“

You say his name as your orgasm hits you, shaking legs tightening so harshly around his waist you can feel every tremor of his hips. He fucks you through it, relentlessly rubbing your clit and you whimper, reaching down to try and shove his hand away. It doesn’t seem to stop him and finally with two, three more thrusts, he’s coming.

Octavio buries his face in your neck, saying something so low and garbled that you barely pick up that it was in Spanish. You don’t care to ask what he said just yet, too busy catching your breath as you clutch his back.

“Shit…” He breathes, turning his head to rest his nose against your still racing pulse. Now, though, it’s not just with need, but you don’t tell him that.

“How’s that for keeping up?” You ask and he snickers, slowly pulling out of you. Octavio reaches down, grabbing his shorts and tucking them beneath your hips to catch the spunk dripping out of you.

“I’ll go get a wash cloth,” he says as you paw at the coffee table for the TV remote. You groan at the time it shows you.

“It’s almost seven, you ass! I have to be to work in two hours!”

“Guess I kept you up all night. At least you weren’t bored.”

“I hate you,” you groan, scrubbing your hands over your eyes. Octavio snickers, making his way towards the bathroom.

“Oh, hey, wait,” you say, propping your head up. He stops short, meeting your gaze. “What did you say? I was kinda preoccupied and didn’t hear.”

“Kinda? You wound me,” Octavio says, placing a hand over his heart. You unceremoniously flip him off. “You think I remember what I said while I was nutting, chica?!”

Octavio grins roguishly. You roll your eyes, throwing one of the couch cushions at him. It doesn’t get anywhere close to hitting him and Octavio snickers, bending down to toss it back onto the couch. “Who knows?”

Octavio turns back to the bathroom and his playful expression slackens. His brow scrunches up as he flicks the light on, closing the restroom door behind him and staring disbelievingly into the mirror.

Te amo, he’d gasped into your neck when he was overwhelmed with the smell of you, the feeling of you, the taste of you.

interstellarflare

Bend and Break || Homelander

-PART ONE-

Warnings: Gore, violence, course language, angst.

Summary: People can only bend their morales so far before they break. Homelander is the world’s greatest superhero, and you, a tech analyst, somehow become entangled in his world when he learns that you provide intel to The Boys. He makes it his personal mission to find out exactly what you know, but he never expected such resistance from someone as damaged as you. But broken things can be mended, sometimes in the most unexpected ways possible.

Author’s Note: As a bit of a disclaimer, I have only seen snippets of The Boys. I haven’t actually watched all of it, so forgive me if there are some details that are wrong, as well as the many spelling errors that will undoubtedly be in this series. There is a tag list open for those who wish to be added. Gif by @stream

You had no idea how you ended up providing intel for The Boys. You didn’t even know how they managed to find you.

You were a nobody, a nobody who so happened to be very knowledgeable around technology. You hacked into secure companies that were affiliated with The Seven, media outlets, private companies and the like, and gained whatever information you could before passing it on to the leader of The Boys himself, Billy Butcher. He stopped by your apartment at random hours during the day and night, giving you set deadlines to complete certain assignments before he came to retrieve the intel. No one knew who you were. You were so mysterious in fact, that the general public had even given you a name. The Watcher.

Keep reading

no-droids

Welcome to my masterlist! All chapters are NSFW and contain smut. 18+ only.

THE MANDALORIAN (DIN DJARIN):

The Mandalorian NSFW Alphabet

Untitled Rough Day Backstory Drabble

Rough Day Series (Ongoing):

1. Rough Day

2. Heaven in Hyperspace

3. Negotiation Skills

4. Rest

5. Of Metal and Men

6. A Show of Good Faith

7. Rushed

8. The Floor is Better

9. Brown Eyes

10. Just the Translator

11. Promise Me (It’s Yours)

12. Beginner’s Luck

13. Kar’taylir

CASSIAN ANDOR:

The Sun on Both Sides

OBI-WAN KENOBI:

The Locked Door Series (Complete):

1. Why is the Girl Here?

2. Dove

POE DAMERON:

The Bet Series (Complete):

1. Mercy, Sabotage, and Dead Space

2. Rumors, Freebies, and a Race for Last Place

ANAKIN SKYWALKER:

The Secret

mattymattymerduck

Pick-Up Lines

Summary: "Don’t go getting any funny ideas,“ You said quietly as you adjusted, tossing a leg over his hips and nuzzling your nose into his neck. "just ‘cause you’re in my bed doesn’t mean you’re gonna get into my pants.”

“Y/N you’re not wearing any pants.”

[Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

Warnings: Mild swearing

Word count: 1600

A/N: No one asked for this but ya’ll’re getting it anyways

You’d think Connor would’ve gotten used to working with difficult people, what with Gavin being an asshole and Hank completely closed off to him in the beginning. His difficulty wasn’t limited to just those two either, being an android in post-revolution Detroit made plenty of humans wary of his character.

But he’d never had to work with someone so flirty.

And frankly, he didn’t know how to react. Regardless of his endless supply of information, every wise-crack and flirty response and cold rejection refused to process when you glanced up at him with that mischievously proud smirk you got before you opened your mouth for another comment.

In your defense, he made it incredibly easy, what with his cute face and all the little things he did that honestly begged for you to comment on. Besides, the way he looked like he was gonna short-circuit after a particularly lewd comment was worth the strained side-eye you’d get from Hank if he overheard you.

Connor believed that the real problem wasn’t that you were flirting with him, probably solely for the fun of it (which he’d admit was a disappointing thought now that he understood what disappointment felt like), but that he wanted to flirt back. And even worse, he couldn’t. It was an emotion he hadn’t quite figured out yet, somewhere between anxiety, nervousness and embarrassment that made his throat feel closed off (it was, technically, because he didn’t have a trachea, but that was besides the point). He was desperate to change that though, and thankfully you gave him lots of opportunities.

“Hey hot stuff, what’s new?” You hopped up on his desk, sitting right in front of him with a shit-eating grin on your lips. He wasn’t sure if he hated or loved the way his processors whirred whenever he saw that smirk, the closest his synthetic body would get to a rush of adrenaline.

“Hello Y/N, you must be tired this morning.” You raised an eyebrow in his direction, waiting for him to explain himself.

“Seeing as how you were running through my thoughts all night.” Is what he was supposed to say, before he got too distracted by the way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. He was aware that this was a dumb thing to get distracted by, even flustered over, but he had suddenly imagined how soft your touch would be. How completely welcoming and sweet your fingers would feel running through his hair or over his jaw, crawling over his collarbones. He felt like the wires connecting his audio box and his processor had disconnected, and he closed his mouth to stop himself from muttering something entirely stupid.

“I noticed that you were here late, the timestamp on your last report was well past 2 am.”

“Ah, yeah I could use another cup of coffee.” You leaned back on your palms a bit, probably mentally preparing yourself to get up and make one. Connor often had to do the same thing, since Gavin’s desk was right by the coffee machine.

“Would you like me to get one for you?” He would, however, brave the walk for you. And the small look of surprise on your face when he offered was worth any insult Reed could throw at him.

“If you did I’d only be able to repay you with a kiss.” He could only hope you would.

“I’m sorry, that’s not a currency I’m experienced with.” He meant it half as a joke, but he was still getting used to making those. You smirked again and Connor swore he would be breathless if his functions permitted it.

“Anytime you want some practice, sweetheart, I’m all yours.” He attempted to hide his flashing red LED by stepping out of his chair and heading towards the lounge, fighting back images and the simulated feeling of your lips clashing with his.

—

“Hey Connor do you have a map?” You walked up from behind him, doing a quick turn and stopping in front of him, same glint in your eye.

“I have every map downloaded on the internet, where’s it for?” He asked almost suspiciously, wondering if you were about to flirt with him or if that look extended to more than that.

“For here, I just got so lost in your eyes I can’t find my way around anymore. Then again,” You ran your finger under his chin, savouring the flicker in his LED as you did so. “now that I’ve found you I don’t think I want anything else.”

Connor almost felt light headed, how that was possible he had no answer, but it must’ve been because that’s what was happening.

“I- oh.” Was all he managed to get out, knowing if he could blush he would be. You just sounded so… Genuine, it threw him off. Your little giggle didn’t help either.

“I actually am late for a debriefing though, so I’ll catch you later sweetcheeks.” You shined an earth-shattering smile, bounced up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss painfully close to his lips, then sped off to Fowler’s office.

—

“Jesus Connor, it’s like 6 in the morning what the hell are you doing here?” You groan tiredly, holding yourself up with your front door as you open it to the android.

“I was sent a report and Hank refused to come with me to investigate, telling me to come recruit you instead.” He folded his hands behind his back and tried to ignore the fact that you were only wearing a t-shirt and underwear, and how adorably messy your hair was.

And how cute you looked trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.

And how his thirium pump seemed to kick into overdrive, and his usual objective (previously 'Convince Y/N to investigate the scene’) jumped between 'Flirt’, 'Kiss’, and 'Look away’. He had noticed since becoming deviant that giving yourself orders was much more confusing than when he accepted the ones Cyberlife gave him. Sometimes he missed it, the easy answers, the doubtless actions.

“Well come in I guess,” You offered, padding away from him and the open door and walking back into your room. “You know, I imagined the first time I had you in my bedroom would be under very different circumstances.”

He was, in fact, trying to avoid those exact thoughts.

“Well, maybe next time.” You joked to yourself, without the usual conviction because you were still more than half asleep. Connor watched you look over to your closet, like you were considering grabbing a change of clothes and getting ready for the day.

And then he watched you take a step towards your bed and crawl back in it, like he wasn’t even there. Like you hadn’t heard him talk about a new case, like you hadn’t literally just said you wanted to sleep with him. How could you say something that worked him up so much without even being awake yet? How was it so effortless, so natural for you?

“Y/N?” He stepped slowly over to the bed and heard you make a small hum in response. You had curled up to a pillow and Connor was fighting a sense of envy over it.

“Do you not want to go to the crime scene?” It’s not what he really wanted to ask but he supposed it was a better idea to ask this instead of questioning your feelings toward him.

“I just need a little nap, you’re free to join me.” Your arm felt heavy but you lifted it anyways, welcoming him into your bed like you would invite someone in for a hug, but he continued to stand and watch you curiously, cautiously.

“As an android I don’t need sleep.” He noticed the little frown on your lips and felt something inside him collapse.

“Then come cuddle, you can wake me up in 5.” He let you wrap your fingers around his wrist and tug lightly until he lay down beside you. He wasn’t sure how good of an idea this was, but god he wanted it so bad, how could he say no to you?

“Don’t go getting any funny ideas,” You said quietly as you adjusted, tossing a leg over his hips and nuzzling your nose into his neck. “just 'cause you’re in my bed doesn’t mean you’re gonna get into my pants.”

“Y/N you’re not wearing any pants.” He couldn’t help himself from teasing you a little, even if you were too tired to appreciate it.

“Exactly.” Connor wished there was a way he could say “?????” but it didn’t translate well into audio, so he stayed silent. It didn’t take very long for him to register your soft breaths against his collarbone and confirm you were asleep, but he was faced with the problem of finding a less awkward position for himself, pinned to the bed by your limbs.

And since you were asleep, he let his guard down a little and did something he wouldn’t dream of doing with you conscious; he placed a light kiss on the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you, tracing little patterns into your back to entertain himself.

“Hey Y/N?” He said softly, more tenderly than you’d ever heard him before. If you were even slightly awake it might’ve even made you swoon.

“Yeah?” You whispered into him and he swore he felt the words crawl up his synthetic skin with a shiver.

“I hope you like the feel of my jacket, it’s made of boyfriend material.”

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