alright I’m gonna cross-post my robert x gn!reader fic here! you can also find it on ao3 (and the eventual continuation) here
tags: robert robertson x gn!reader, flirting, sexual tension, banter, robert is depressed + drinking away his problems, robert has self-confidence issues, robert’s self-deprecating thoughts, reader comes to keep him company, takes place in episode 1
minor spoilers for episode 1-2 of dispatch (I haven’t watched further than episode 3 so no spoilers!!)
leave comments in the tags!! I’d love to hear your thoughts/what you enjoyed ___________________________________
Robert Robertson has once again found himself at a bar. Not a superhero bar, mind you—he already had a hell of a time with Dr. Don't Do Shit earlier. Hopefully the Tooth Fairy won't be too put out by having to tend to a grown man. No, this is a normal kind of skeevy dive bar. The type of shithole he frequently found himself at when he had more cash and hope in his pocket.
He supposes he should be grateful to be sat here in one piece. Or at least grateful he's not dead. But the fact that his father's mech-suit is currently trashed and his entire life's work has burned to nothing isn't exactly rousing a lot of optimism.
Robert flags down the bartender and orders another drink. Asks for it to be strong, because he needs something louder than the noise buzzing in his head.
That's when you slide in beside him. He spares you a cursory glance, before bringing the glass to his lips and drinking. The golden liquid warms his stomach as it pours down his throat.
"...had a long night?"
It takes several seconds for Robert to realize you're talking to him. He's too distracted by the jukebox playing the same song for the fourteenth time.
"Excuse me?"
You regard the half-drunk beer in his hand.
"I'm guessing you've had a long night? That looks like your third round in the last 20 minutes."
"What can I say? Weather's got me feelin' a little thirsty."
"It's 50 degrees out."
"Like I said," he continues, taking another swig, "a little thirsty."
Robert glances at you through his periphery.
Christ. You're gorgeous. Thick, full lashes, plush, soft lips, and the most gorgeous, warm eyes he's seen in a minute. What are you doing talking to him?
"A man like you shouldn't be spending his Friday night all alone.
Robert lets out a mirthless chuckle, shaking his head and holding up his drink. The liquid sloshes in the pint, threatening to spill out before settling back in place.
"Got all the company I need right here."
"That satisfies everything you need? I think you've got more of an appetite than that."
"You seem to know a lot about the type of man I am."
"I can tell enough to know that you deserve better than cheap, watered-down dishwater at a shithole like this. I'm excellent company." You lean in closer. "And a great listener. So lay it on me. What's on your mind?"
"Like you said: it's a Friday—plenty of reasons to be grateful. Just a little burnt out on the optimism. Life's falling apart. You know—the usual sob story bullshit you'd find a guy drowning his sorrows in."
Your face softens as you search his features. Robert feels naked. He hates it.
"Save the pity party." Robert preempts, setting his jaw. "I don't need another one."
"I'm not gonna throw you one. But I do think I'd like to take your mind off of the bullshit, if you'd let me."
Robert steals a glance at you, and he's surprised to see your expression is open and warm. Inviting, if he's reading it right.
"...I'll bite. Tell me about yourself. Give me a distraction worth ditching the beer."
You laugh, cheeks dimpling. It's clear you're pleased with his response. He doesn't know why he's pleased to see it. "What do you want to know?"
"What do you do?"
"Interviewing me? Not very romantic."
Robert rubs the back of his neck.
"Sorry. It's the kind of question everyone asks when they're figuring someone out. Old habits, huh? How about this?" He puts on a higher-pitched, airy voice as he continues. "'What lights you up'?" He inclines his head. "Better?"
"Do you want a cookie?" You smile, and Robert finds his lips twitching upward a little.
"You got one?"
You laugh. "I'm a dancer. And an actor. A writer. Lots of different things."
"A creative. I know your type."
"Do you?"
"Looks like it's my turn to make a few assumptions."
His gaze roves over you, taking in your features. He finds himself getting lost in those eyes of yours, so he lets himself swim as he assesses you.
"You're a perfectionist. Hate commitment. Love overthinking, and you're never satisfied with the final product, but that hunger keeps you coming back."
"Not bad. Looks like you can read me pretty well."
You study him—not with judgment, but curiosity. The longer your gaze lingers, the more he shifts in his chair.
"Have we met somewhere? Your face looks so familiar."
At that, Robert coughs.
He's just another white guy in Southland. How is he this recognizable?
"I just have one of those faces. You probably saw a model on a magazine or something and mixed us up."
"So you think you're model-level attractive?" You smile, leaning a bit closer. Robert can't help himself—with the way your eyes sparkle under these shitty lights, he finds himself a bit taken.
"What does it matter what I think? What do you think?"
"Smooth operator." The way you suck on your lower lip while you look him over answers his question. A low flame ignites in his belly. Something he hasn’t felt in years. The alcohol must be getting to him.
"Nah. Shitty flirt.”
"I'd say otherwise." Your plush lips curve upward. "Can I finally get a name for you, mystery man? Or is beer still the superior companion?"
"...You can call me Robert."
"[Name]."
"Pleasure to meet you." He toasts the pint towards you, your water glass clinking against his. A few more seconds of amiable silence follow until...
"Do you want to get out of here, Robert?" Your gaze lingers unabashedly to his lips, and he finds himself licking them before he can stop himself.
His eyes move to your mouth. He wants to taste it.
This is reckless. Irresponsible. He definitely should not be jumping down someone's pants so soon after his mech-suit has been destroyed. He's lost his entire life's purpose, for fuck's sake.
But one look in your seductive, eager eyes, and he's screwed. All common sense is out the door as he sets his drink down.
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☘︎summary ; brief hcs and silly things of dad elijah. following from infancy to early childhood stages
☘︎ warnings ; reader is vaguely brought up, but said baby (unnamed-- referred to as "his girl" "baby" "baby girl") is of course. the option of if she was biologically from Smoke and you or adopted is left vague, too. no descriptors of her or you physically. and yes, its a girl. girldad Elijah for the win
Dad!Elijah who never really complains. Everyone has a right to complain about babies— they're stinky and loud and the poor things are just as frightened as you are. But he never complains, not once. Silently wakes up to go hush her when she wails in the dead of night, changes her bottom when its that time of the day, has gotten the motions of bottle feeding her down to muscle memory. He uses the rocking chair in the nursery more than you do
Dad!Elijah who even if he does love you and her he does still have work. Risky business. Leaves for a few days sometimes and comes back, visibly worn down, but all he does is pull you close and gently bounce your girl on his knee.
Dad!Elijah who lets his “strong and silent” facade slip with his baby. Poking his tongue out at her, and she mimics it. Lets her grab his nose and pat her little fingers on his close crop haircut. Oddly enough shes a quiet thing too, only making sounds when need be (like Smoke) and Smoke always tries to get her to make sounds. Pulling silly faces or tickling her just to hear her giggle or make those silly baby sounds. Its not an everyday thing, but it happens, and you figure those are always the highlights of your week
Dad!Elijah who honest to god you had to yank him from sleeping beside the cradle. You let it slip the first few times when you two put your girl in her own nursery a few weeks after she was born. But you had enough of him sitting in that rocking chair, legs crossed over the knee, just looking at her in awe. He can ogle her in the morning when hes had a good nights rest
Dad!Elijah who's so, so so gentle with her. He doesn't jostle her much, he's not the dad to toss her as a toddler in the sky, no no no. I can see him even pulling a face at that. You toss your kid in the air? Really? That type of look. She's always on his hip or sitting in the crook of his strong arm.
Dad!Elijah who despite wanting to show his baby off to the world, he doesn't. A lot of folk probably do a double take when he briefly mutters something of “needa get her new shoes ….” When hes flipping through bills and setting two dollars in his breast pocket for said shoes later.
Dad!Elijah whose baby is always best dressed even as a teensy thing. She's in frilly white blouses, or premium clothing, soft on her skin. She's got her teensy baby hairs combed softly. But he always says to her as either you or him are dressing her, “you could wear a burlap sack, but as long as you wear that little smile, you're the prettiest girl.”
Dad!Elijah who when he disciplines, its stern but never harsh. When she's old enough to act out, not knowing right from wrong, he’ll pull her aside and tell her what she did wrong. I can't see him baby-talking her even as a baby. He treats her as she is— a growing girl. So he sternly tells her what she did wrong, why to not do it, and what to do instead. She never feels punished for anything, either.
Dad!Elijah who if she goes to a school that has plays, is always sat in the front row. He had his bowler hat pulled low, but he’s always there. If you can't make it, expect an earful from him about how amazing she was up there.
Bonus Uncle!Stack being the uncle who lowk spoils her. I don't think Smoke would ‘spoil’ her, but she never feels like shes without. But with Stack? She’s getting candy and beef jerky and once when she was maybe 5, she came back with a puppy and Smoke had to yank Stack outside to give him a talking to. They kept the puppy anyways.
Bonus Uncle!Stack who I feel like teaches her to drive first. Driving on a back road, and he just says “c’mere. Don't tell your daddy” and puts her on his knee and she goes to town. Ripping around and he's laughing his ass off. They pass a car on the road, and Stack catches a glimpse of Smoke’s wide eyed expression in the other car. Sees the car do a sharp U turn and then he’s going “Shit!! Move, move, you don’t even gotta tell your daddy, he's right here!” And Smoke’s girl giggling her ass off.
How strange it is to be haunted by someone that is still alive
Bob Reynolds x GN reader
Can also be read at Ao3 - Here
Chapter 2 can be read: here
Summary: It should be easier to live having the world's knowledge at your fingertips, yet it has pulled you so deep beneath the waves that you're unsure you'll ever resurface in your own mind.
Valentina had promised to let you get all that information out of your head that you’d no longer be confined within your own head, your own darkness, but nothing stays well forever. You know this.
Despite knowing, it doesn’t make you prepared to meet Bob, or Yelena or any of them, and it’s strange to have hope bloom within your chest. Hopefully you’ll all make it out of this.
It’s almost ridiculous how obvious the trap is. Even with your infinite knowledge at the edge of your mind the way it was too simple getting in - no alarms, no guards and the half-powered cameras barely registered your arrival. Not even the code was hard to crack.
Not that you had much experience breaking and entering to begin with. Had it not been for the very real threat that was Valentina, you would have disappeared off the face of the earth 2 weeks ago. Yet you know that you have to get through this hurdle if you want to untangle yourself from the web that has been spun around you, to escape it before it strangles you.
The facility is supposed to be off the books, a vault of secrets that practically invited you in with its lackluster security.
As you stand in the intel room you can’t help but to look at the mess. There are large crates strewn about, and boxes with files upon files. Even digital drives were strewn about. It was so perfectly messy it looked intentional. Everything the congress needed to pin Valentina to all the accusations thrown at her.
That’s the problem.
It is too perfect. Everything collected at the same place, and soon the rest of the evidence will walk in and destroy themselves and you in the process. It almost makes you want to laugh at the irony of it all and the worst part? Valentina knew that you already know.
That’s the thing when your powers are all tied back to one thing: Knowledge. The ever-watching eye, the soon-to-be omniscient, and whatever stupid metaphors people came up with for you.
The simple truth was that if you put your mind to it you would know almost anything, but that didn’t mean you would understand it. It was overwhelming in the worst ways, like having a voice in your head whispering all the answers to the smallest wonders, the tiniest curiosities. Yet to get knowledge you had to consume it. To constantly learn something new, or it would drain you.
You prefer to call it something closer to “omnivision”, you see everything within your mind, but you don’t know or always understand it. It isn’t yours to know, but still you rip precious, private moments from people without meaning too. Yet people keep mistaking your power for seeing the future, which you can’t. It’s too easy to change or tilt in another direction, too unstable to know.
Most days you curse your powers - the constant headaches, knowing too much about everyone, the lack of normalcy the moment people learn of what you do. Yet standing in that room you can’t help but to thank whatever being that gave you it.
You already knew what was in the crates and files: the “sentry project”. You even worked on it yourself which is why Valentina is so eager to get rid of you. It failed after all despite your knowledge and now with the press down her back, you simply knew too much.
The moment footsteps echoed you do what you do best, you hide. Only bad things can happen if you decide to join in the fray. A few crates and boxes makes a makeshift hiding spot as you almost hold your breath.
One by one they enter, and the chaos ensues so quickly you almost get whiplash, but you stay completely still. As if moving a single muscle was signing your death warrant.
You know these people, well not personally, but you know them.
John Walker. Taskmaster. Yelena Belova. Ava Starr.
All mercenaries for Valentina with blood so deep in their ledger that it’s impossible to get out, and they are fighting each other in a frenzy. Steel meets flesh, someone gets knocked into crates and knives with deadly precision.
It makes you queasy to watch.
While your powers make you a great know-it-all, it doesn't come with physical advantages and while you can hold your own, you have great doubts about going against them. You doubt they would even give you the time of day to explain yourself before you turned cold.
They would kill you.
You can’t help but shrink at the knowledge forced into your mind. The layered, echoing whispers without a sound that paints a clear picture, but you know this fighting needs to stop one way or another.
Before you can rise from your position, there’s movement near you and a man crawls out of a larger box. You almost jump out of your skin. Where did he come from?
The box
Helpful…
He’s retching and seems to almost puke as he clumsily stumbles in front of the others. It’s a miracle he does not see you, but you see him. Oh, you see him so clearly.
Robert Reynolds. Sentry project test subject. Supposed to be dead… and briefly almost your friend.
“Is she actually dead?” he says as he stumbles out with wide eyes. “Oh,” is all he says as he turns to escape only for the door to shut harshly. All of them do as your eyes widen. Your time window was up, you’re officially doomed.
This is it, isn't it?
Only the repeating of “bob” snaps you out of your incoming panic.
“I suppose all of us were sent…except you…bob?” you say with a surge of confidence as you show yourself from your hidden position, barely suppressing a flinch as they turn their guns on you. With a deep breath to steady yourself you continue, “Valentina sent all of us.”
“Who the hell are you?” Walker barks out at you, more bite than bark, seconds away from sending you straight to hell. You supposed dressing sort of like a civilian helped your caught-in-the-crossfire aesthetic.
“It really doesn't matter if we don’t start thinking about how to get out of here,” you manage to mutter back. The way everyone stares at you makes your skin itch, you really don’t like being stared at. Ironic isn't it. A lot seems to be recently. You can’t help but shift nervously.
Yelena understands your words immediately, you know in the way her eyes close with a weary sigh, and she looks back at Walker and Starr. With a shake of her head, she raises her hands in a slow surrender and her gun no longer aimed at anyone.
“Okay,” she begins, “It’s clear we have all worked for Valentina in some sort of shadow ops capacity.
“Yeah, so?” Walker questions as his own defensive stand loosens with a shrug of his shoulders, not understanding Yelena’s implications.
“So all of this stuff is OXE’s secrets” She answers him as she uses her hands to direct to the other things in the vault. “But so are we.” she finishes.
“Which makes us liabilities that no one would miss...” Starr completes the picture for everyone.
“Oh, speak for yourself,” Walker interrupts, not catching the seriousness of the statement.
Yelena barely gives him a chance to continue as she says ”We are the evidence and this is the shredder”, with a barely concealed astonishment at his density. “She wants us gone.”
You sigh wearily as they argue between themselves. At least they weren't looking at you anymore and you feel yourself relaxing against your better judgement.
“Um– you’re… i know you…i think?” comes from slightly behind you, but way too close to comfort and you almost jump out of your own skin. A barely concealed shriek dying in your chest as you stare with wide eyes back at Robert… or well Bob you supposed.
“I suppose you did,” you answer him, but you know you confused him more by your answer than he originally was. His eyes are searching, deep in colour like a stormy sea, and that is what you know him as. Unpredictable in nature and even more so with the serum running through his veins. You don’t say that though, that piece is tucked into your mind.
“Oh! Well, uh,” he stumbles over his words, “your name… I don't remember” he finally mutters out. Shame curls around his words like a vice. Like he’s afraid of being reprimanded of his forgetfulness.
Silence stretches between you as you look at him and tilt your head ever so slightly.
“Call me Omni” you whisper, as if the name can crack and scorch everything that hears it, and you're not sure if it won’t. Bob’s head tilts as he stares at you, a strange mix of emotions flurries quickly past his face, and you can’t help but let loose another sigh.
“Come on,” You say as you slowly reach out and take his hand and lead him back behind the crates you hid behind a few minutes ago. “In case they decide to be trigger happy again, I don’t much enjoy being shot” you say as he stares at your intertwined hands in wonder.
Usually touch makes your skin crawl in the worst way, especially skin on skin, but Bob’s skin sat warm against yours and thawed the cold out of it slowly. You both look towards the other three as they continue to argue. As Starr and Yelena start to laugh at Walker’s absurdity, so does Bob.
“It was getting so tense here for… a second”, his laughter soon dies at the looks he receives and he shrinks behind the crates, and by proxy behind you as well. As though you could cover his frame from the glare that Walker gives him.
Walker seems to take it personally. Very personally.
“I’m not leaving here without completing my mission,” he says as he stalks towards the two of you. “Valentina gave me a clean slate guarantee, and I’m not screwing that up.” He stops as he looks between the two of you.
“But these two weirdos wasn’t part of the job, so I gotta know…” he continues as he takes a few more steps, way too close for comfort. “How’d you get in?” he says with a malicious smile and tilt of his head. It makes you uneasy.
“The same way you did… I just got here before you” You answer honestly and hold your hands in mock surrender. “Not my fault you didn't see me…” You mutter out the last part, but you know he hears you.
Bob just stumbles over his words and shrugs, a “I don’t remember” leaving him, but you know. You know exactly how he got here. You can’t say that though, Walker would kill him, and in your own selfish way you don't want to lose him.
“Terrific answer,” Incrediously Walker spins around looking at the others. “Alright um… tie yourselves up.”
“Wow” and “oh, my god” leaves Starr and Yelena at the same time, both looking back with the same incredulous look that Walker had given Bob.
“No… and goodbye” was all that left Starr as she walked towards one of the shut doors, activating her powers as she went. A moment of anticipation and tension lingered in the air before a loud high-pitched buzzing exploded into the room.
You don’t remember what happened. It all blurred as you collapsed in on yourself. Not only the buzzing screeching into your brain, but the sheer overload of information that followed it in your confusion. Your powers trying to make up for the unanswered questions
Idk how I'm going to write this. Guess I'll wing it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Plot twist: none of these work :"
Alfred drapes an arm over reader while sitting on the couch
Alfred leans over the back of the chair while the reader is working, and whispers in their ear. Weaponize that deep voice
Alfred sends a couple of cheesy pick-up lines and it flies right over the reader's head bc they're not sure if he's joking around or being serious
Compliments too, winning prizes for them at county fairs, gifting them their favorite food, gifting them flowers
Tried inviting them out to lunch and reader saw their friend at same restaurant, and invited them to join reader and Alfred, much to his dismay
Reader DOES notice his change in behavior, but doesn't piece two and two together till they talk to a friend of his
Should that friend be his brother? Denmark or Prussia maybe?
He tries to be super direct this time, and coincidentally the reader walks in on the tail-end of the conversation. Reader, feeling bummed, sorta tries to help.
"Alfred? Hey! What's up? Oh, well.. it sounds like you'll need to be really direct with this person if they're that dense."
Alfred: "you're right. We should go out this Friday. 8 sound good, dude?"
"Yeah! Just like that!"
Alfred deadpans, sighs, and takes both their hands in his. "(Y.N), I like you as more than a friend. We should go out this Friday, (Y.N). How does 8 sound?"
"Huh..? Oh. OH. Yes! That sounds great, Alfred! Hey, wait a second! If you liked me, why didn't you flirt with me??"
Alfred, laughing and shaking his head bc this is such a (Y.N) thing to do. "I've been flirting for months now you dork"
U should make a fanic based off of ur carlos oliveira head cannons! Specifically the one where he doesn’t feel the same way as the reader
How To Break No Hearts ~~~ Carlos Oliveira x GN!Reader
A/N: It took a while, but here it is ! Not as angsty as it could be, but still ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
Genre: Angst/Comfort
Word Count: 1.1k
TW: none; if you find any, don't hesitate to reach out !
You didn't know when it happened exactly. He was just a guy who worked in the same area you did. He got on the bus a few stations after you did, shot you a polite smile, and took a seat a few rows down from you.
You both got out at the same station and occasionally, especially during lunch time, ran into each other.
Waiting in line for food, just idly chatting, it was so easy with him; it came naturally.
After exchanging names, your actual downfall began.
Like a penguin in love, you started bringing him little gifts. Unlike penguins though, you didn't opt for pebbles, but snacks and recently a little key chain for his work.
Carlos thanked you greatly every time, and also brought something occasionally, yet not as frequent as you did; not that you minded through your rose-coloured glasses.
It was one day, when your bus was canceled due to heavy weather, Carlos had the brilliant idea of getting something to eat and just wait it out in the restaurant. You nodded before you could really think about it, and that's how you ended up in a cozy restaurant, a steaming hot soup to warm your body, and an even hotter guy to warm your mind in front of you.
It felt like fate that the rain didn't seem to want to let up, so you talked for hours, finally getting to know each other on a more intimate basis. It was a wonderful night, and you thought it really clicked.
You got to hear about his family, still in South America, that he visits as often as he can on the budget he has. His interests in fixing cars and, surprisingly, card games and baking with friends.
After sharing your bit to the conversation, you dared to look outside again, and your face fell; the rain had given up in the end.
As you both parted your ways on the bus stop, Carlos gifted you a bright smile and enthusiastic wave before he got off.
The rest of your night was quiet, and a little giddy as you couldn't fall asleep, always awoken by flashbacks of your little date, if you dare call it that.
The two of you got closer, and soon earned the title of 'work besties'.
While you were happy, and got bolder with every passing day, Carlos had a nagging feeling in the back of his head.
He couldn't shake the hunch that something shifted within you, and that it affected him.
So, he did what he was told by his commander on the daily; “Study your enemy, find weak spots before striking”.
Fair enough, Carlos wasn't going to kill you, he just wanted to find a reason for your behaviour.
And rest assured, he didn't take that long to catch on.
But when he did, his heart shattered a bit.
You didn't know, because he didn't tell you that evening, and he didn't have a reason to, but back in his hometown, there is someone he wants to ask out soon. Carlos didn't do it yet, due to financial reasons. He was raised to believe he has to be able to provide for himself and his partner. He didn't get a job there, but he plans on officially asking them, and suggest that they come back to the U.S. with him.
It never came up in any of your conversations, and he didn't deem it relevant enough to just out of the blue to drop on you; all Carlos wanted was friendship anyways, he didn't have romantic feelings for you at all.
He came to appreciate your presence and lightheartedness, but on a strictly platonic basis.
The following days were agony for him. Carlos knew he had to let you down at some point. A bit of selfishness came to him as he wanted to keep you around him, but realized quickly that it would only cause you more pain in the end.
So, one day, he approached you in the evening, while waiting for your bus.
As he sat beside you, he carefully broached the topic.
“You know, you've been a little odd these days.”
You laugh, snickering back “Aren't I always ?”
Carlos laughs back, but a little somber “Point taken. No, but I mean, you behave differently around me.”
As you have nothing to say, you just sigh and fiddle with your hands nervously; seems like today is the day.
The bus picks up on speed just as you want to start explaining, but Carlos beat you to it.
“I think I know why,” he starts, taking a breath, glancing outside the window and noticing that there is only two more stops until he needs to get off. “but I also want you to know, with all my respect and appreciation, I don't feel the same. Not the same extend you seem to do.”
With his little pause, you got your hopes up, just to be put down gently. Your heart drops to your butt, and you feel cold sweat on your body, as well as the need to flee the scene.
But Carlos, ever the gentleman, beats you to it, and stands up to get off the bus.
“I like you as my friend. As my partner in crime, my 'work bestie'” He air quotes you.
“I understand if you don't want to see my again, but know that all I want for you to find someone who can give you what I can't. And if you get heartbroken on the way there, that you can count on me to beat them to a pulp and show up at your place with snacks and a trashy movie afterwards.”
And with that, he jumps off the bus, and you watch him disappear into the night.
At first you are sad, maybe even a little depressed. Carlos was nice enough to tell you on a Friday, so you had the weekend to recover and think about everything.
And the more you think about it, he was nice about it in general. He didn't lead you on endlessly, set a clear boundary, and left you an option; to forget about him, or to keep being friends.
People always say, if you really loved someone, friendship will never be enough.
But what if it was just a mere crush ? That would fade out, now that you knew what he thought about it ? Maybe it would still be a good friendship after all.
It would need time, that's for sure.
So when you got on the bus on Monday, you felt the snack bar you packed for him before arriving at his station.
Whether or not you give it to him, that's your choice, and he will respect it, even if you take longer than a few days to decide.
~~~
Thank you for reading, please leave a like or reblog if you enjoyed !
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Being Dabi's girlfriend headcanons, but with a twist 😏
Notes: Silly silly idea came into my mind so I will be actually doing this and I'm sorry this is probably SO CRINGE- read at your own risk (no no, it's nothing BAD, but it might be cringe, AND ooc, help)
First things first, when you guys start dating he's like, SUPER nervous (he does not show it though AT ALL)
He doesn't want to hurt you in anyway, so he distances himself from you for a bit just in case.
LOVES when you give him physical affection tho.
Going on dates consists of probably just going to a dingy alleyway bar? Maybe not so romantic, but, uh, it's literally one of the only things you can do outside with each other-
Nevermind, I LIED 😛 he can go outside undercover with you basically anywhere I guess.
Let's you touch his scars after a few (weeks? Months? Idk whenever he's comfortable-).
And then I feel like that would turn into something more I'm not comfortable about writing, but you get the idea.
Uh, there are a lot of headcanons that other ppl make saying that he would reveal his name early to you? Yeah, no.
Bro doesn't trust you THAT MUCH (bby has trust issues from his past 😭)
A headcanon I have (lol, I think it's more canon then canon actually) is that he's very good at keeping secrets (bro is like that in canon-). So if your in a secret relationship you don't need to worry about anyone knowing about it.
Afraid to use his flames around you (ALSO bcuz of past)
He likes it when you borrow or wear his clothes.
-
Ok, so uh, that's pretty much it 😅 short headcanons that are probably extremely cringy and ooc. Also I don't think I actually ended up adding a twist in the end, please help lol
a sweet lil one-shot btw farmer and harvey where farmer Takes Care of him as the two of them wake up
MDNI!!!
read it on ao3 here!
When you woke up that Saturday morning next to your husband, you knew nothing would pull you from his side.
Harvey. With his tousled, salt-and-pepper hair and his white boxers with red hearts all over. God, he made you feel things.
Gently, you touched his arm. His neck. His jaw. His lips.
When his eyelids fluttered open, his eyes darted toward you to ensure you were still by his side. He always felt a flash of disappointment when he woke up and you weren’t there to greet him. Today, he smiled and nuzzled into your touch.
“Hello, darling,” he whispered to you. You loved it when he called you that sweet nickname. It was soft, comfortable, and held a quiet elegance, just like him.
You pressed a slow kiss to his lips and his hands came up to capture your face, holding you there.
Your kiss deepened and Harvey let out a low moan before moving one of his hands from your jaw down your back. You smiled into your kiss before moving to straddle him.
As soon as you settled into his lap, you recognized that familiar sensation of his erection rubbing against your thigh. Feeling frisky this morning, you took the opportunity to grind down onto him. He groaned again and thrust upwards.
“Farmer…,” he said, between pants, “I need you.”
Smiling into your kiss, you reach blindly for the hem of your shirt. When you find it, you sit up, and Harvey helps you pull it off.
Almost immediately, his lips latch onto your nipple. A shock rips through you, and you moan out his name. “Harvey!” you say, breathily. He hums a response, still suckling at your nipple.
You arch your back, giving him easier access to your chest. He sucks harder as if rewarding you for your good behavior.
You aren’t letting him have you that easy, though. You grind down on his crotch again and he removes his lips from your nipple.
“Farmer!” he says, suddenly disoriented. You smile at him, innocently, knowing that this look tells him you want to play.
You watch the moment it dawns on him as his eyes darken slightly and his cheeks tinge pink. “You want a game, Farmer? You can have a game.”
He smirked and flipped you over. “Let’s play,” he says, his voice gravelly.
You giggled as he attacked your neck with mustachioed kisses. But the giggles stopped short when he became more aggressive in his technique, sucking and biting at your collarbone.
Your hands moved down his body to his boxers, sweetly caressing his drooling length making him moan into your poor, abused neck.
You pull briefly at the waistband of his boxers, indicating your need for more of him.
He huffed one last breath into your neck before adjusting your positions. He sat with his back against your headboard, his cock sprung free from his boxers. You knelt between his legs, your lips ready and waiting, your hands tied together behind your back with the tie he’d discarded on the floor last night before the two of you jumped into bed together.
“Can I, Doctor?” you said, with batted eyelashes.
With a grunt, he acquiesced, placing a hand on your head in a gesture of unspoken authority.
You spat on his length, preparing him for your mouth. With your lips wrapped around his cock, you began to bob your head up and down. Your teeth grazed his cock briefly, and you heard him whine in anticipation.
Suddenly, you felt his hand push his length all the way down your throat. Gagging, you tried to swallow, knowing he loved this sensation.
He moaned loudly, and you would’ve smirked if your mouth hadn’t been full. You were raised with manners. It’s rude to open your mouth while enjoying breakfast.
You tugged at your makeshift restraints, wishing desperately to cradle and squeeze his balls and maybe even put a finger or two into his tight hole.
You began to shift under his iron grip signalling your need to speak. He immediately removed his hand and began to pull his dick from your mouth.
Regaining your breath, you signalled toward your restraints. He reached over you and untied you.
“I’m sorry, Honey. Did I go too far?” he said with a concerned look.
“Not at all. I just need my hands, Dear.”
His eyes widened and he blushed furiously. After all these years, he still wasn’t attuned to all of your tricks.
“Do I have your permission, my love?” you asked innocently.
He blushed harder before nodding furiously.
With a smirk, you rolled your wrists and pulled him lower on the bed. After adjusting his legs, you spat on your hands and rubbed them together, warming them up.
Harvey followed your actions attentively, hoping he might be able to figure out what you’d planned for him somehow.
Maybe he’d not had enough time today because he was completely in the dark as you began to suck on his balls and circled a finger around his hole.
You heard his breath quicken as you felt his balls tighten.
Slowly, you pushed your finger into his fuckhole. He moaned loudly and gripped your hair with renewed intensity.
“Fuck, Farmer! Please. Harder,” he whimpered.
Slowly, you inserted a second finger. As you resumed curling your fingers inside him, he let out a short cry.
“Farmer… I’m close. Please. Let me come inside you, my love.”
Without another word, you removed your fingers and readjusted your position, straddling him once more.
“Farmer…,” he said when the two of you made eye contact.
You smiled and aligned yourself with his fat cock.
After a brief kiss, you sank all the way down.
The two of you took a moment to adjust before he began thrusting up into you.
Inhaling slowly, you began bouncing up and down determined to bring your husband the pleasure he so deserved.
With his hands positioned on either side of your waist, he began guiding you.
Your movements were quicker and more intense now. It was obvious that your dear husband was so very close.
With one final thrust, he let out a loud groan and came inside your tight little hole.
You weren’t quite done, though, so after a brief moment, you resumed your movements chasing after his waves of pleasure toward your own.
The two of you shared a chaste kiss before he settled you next to him on the bed, kissing your forehead, and leaving the bed to get a washcloth to clean you up.
-Gentleman at heart; Would take you on fancy dates and be respectful. It goes semi-well most of the time but sometimes he would lose his cool over a rude waiter.
-He wouldn't mind if you moved in with him, aslong as you didnt break or damage his wine cellar your fine 👍
-Prefers to be dominant but wouldn't mind if you took the lead.
-Very Loyal, Would not cheat on you and will be pretty protective. And if he did cheat on you, It would mean you are a jerk.
-Good fashion taste! The type to buy you clothes what you liked if you said you liked them and would deny it if you asked him.
-Surprisingly gentle, He would care for you but would revert to his temper the moment dazai walked in and that orange-head will scream at him.
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Im sorry it was so short! This is my first time writing but i hope you enjoy this!
