#pgr fic

[unhappy-last-resort]

The Puppet In A Forest (Yandere Roland x GN Reader)

Warnings: forced kissing, bone breaking, drugging, implied minor surgery performed without readers consent, tracking

A/N: I apologize for any stiff writing or grammar mistakes. This was literally just supposed to be this short little 1 AM thing for his birthday and it fucking spiraled into this

Status: not edited

You wade through crystal waters, fireflies twinkling around you like little stars in the night and comforting you ever so slightly, the quiet chirping of crickets in the distance is calming enough to make you almost forget there was an ongoing war outside this place, but unfortunately not enough to make you forget why you're here. The letters you received six hours ago have led you to an rural town in thr outskirts of Kowloong, to a pond with bamboo growing in its edges.

You suck in a breath and steady your grip on your gun. You really shouldn't be here, not for the reasons you're weaving through towering rods of bamboo, anyway. Your heart tussles with itself, one part saying that you should turn back, the other telling you to push forward. Meeting an Ascendant isn't just dangerous to your prestigious position as Gray Ravens commandant, but also physically.

You're going to the coordinates you found inside the Russian dolls Roland sent you and the thought that it's just a trap has never once left your mind. Roland is a trickster, murderer, manipulator, and an actor, there is absolutely no reason you shouldn't have forwarded those letters to Hassen and Nikola, no reason for you to be here alone, and no reason for you to feel a painful tug in your heart when you read the last line of his second letter.

"I'll be waiting for you and gladly accept whatever you have for me, whether it's a bullet, a restraint, or an Activation Date gift."

In your uncertainty, you've prepared all three, your gun loaded and drawn at any potential danger, the restraints dangling off your hip, and a small box of chocolates sitting securely in your bag. It's unconventional for a birthday gift, but you don't have time to look, or make something more appropriate and frankly, there's no reason for you to put more effort in. You're enemies, not friends, and you don't owe anything to him.

You keep moving, the mud of the ponds floor squishing beneath your thigh high boots, the water beneath you littered with fallen leaves from the bamboo above you. Gradually, the bamboo starts to thin out, easing you into a small empty space. There's a rock sitting in the center, bathed by the moonlight as fireflies dance around it.

You can't see anyone, or a sign that anyone was here to begin with, although it's not like you'd find much in a shallow pond at night. You carefully feel out the ground ahead of you before stepping forward, it's easy to fall for the illusion of ground beneath you and end up much more wet than you intended and it'd be much harder to explain your little trip to your team if you came back dripping wet.

You reach the center of the clearing and look around. No one's here, it's just you. The water sloshes and ripples with every movement you make, announcing your presence to the surrounding silence...was it always this quiet?

Plunk.

You whip around, gun pointed in the direction of the sound as you glare into the dark, as if the very darkness itself would somehow lift to reveal what hides inside it. You stay like that for half a minute, ears and eyes straining for movement, but there is none. No more noises, just silence. It's only now do you realize that the fireflies that were here have disappeared, as if they'd been scared off by something, but what could scare a bunch of bugs?

You look around again, re-observing your surroundings. You look down and see these tiny little black dots in the water, confused you reach down and scoop one up in your palm and bring it close to your face.

It's an insect, it looks like a firefly. Your eyebrows furrow and you check your terminal, scanning the air quality...nothing. Punishing levels are low, and nowhere near fatal for a human, and there are no other toxins present in the air. You rack your brains, trying to think of anything that might cause a bunch of bugs to just die like this, but you come up with nothing.

You inspect the bug again, as if there's anything else a simple big would be hiding-

Wait.

There are tiny, inconspicuous little ball joints on each of its legs, and a very thin seam where the body connects to its abdomen, which on closer inspection is just an LED light trapped in a casing. It's mechanical. It's a fake. You've been surrounded by hundreds of mechanical bugs since you came to the clearing, maybe since you first stepped foot near the pond.

You drop it from your hand, it's body making a small plink sound as it falls into the water. You sigh and look up, only to find yourself caught in the gaze of a pair of eyes.

A figure clad in black and white with grey hair stands as still as a statue. His hair is undone and pulled forward, his long locks falling over his shoulders, his eyes glow like jewels in the moonlight, the cool tones of his outfit making his eyes stand out even more.

"Prefiero un minuto contigo a una eternidad sin ti." He whispers, the silence around us making even the quietest whispers apparent. "I never thought you would come. Hah...I thought I'd made myself a fool again."

You sigh through your nose, your grip on your gun is tight, but pointed at the water. In your shock you hadn't pointed it at him, your mind still trying to fathom how many fake fireflies there were and what else around you was an illusion that, you hadn't thought of giving yourself a defensive position. And getting into one now may escalate things.

"You're always a fool." You mutter ruefully, keeping your eyes on his. "Why would you think your enemy would respond to you?"

A grin stretches across his face, growing wider until he bursts into a chuckle. "Well, you did, didn't you? Besides," He pauses, smile dropping into a deadpan. "I did say I wanted to get you out, no matter what. Didn't I?"

"What would you have done if the letters hadn't worked, then?"

Another chuckle. "Oh, wouldn't my little rabbit like to know? Tell you what, if you can win my game, I'll tell you."

Roland starts moving towards you, he moves silently, so much so that if you hadn't seen the water moving you would have thought he was a ghost or a figment of imagination. It was like he was one with the space around him, seamlessly fitting in as if he belonged there- as if he was always there.

You breath, feeling more anxious by the moment as Roland closes in at a steady pace. "What game?"

"It's just a simple question, if you answer correctly you win, if you don't..." He smiles again.

"...What happens if I lose?"

"Hmm....I get to take a present from you." He stops at arms reach from you, smile still plastered on his face and an undeniable glee glinting in his eyes.

"I already brought you one though." His eyes widened in surprise, his smile faltering for a moment.

"You really brought me a gift? Here I was expecting you to restrain me and bring me back to Babylonia."

You watch him for a moment before reaching a hand into the bag at your hip, Roland's eyes flickering from your hand to your face, the flurry of emotions behind them tells you he's as desperate as he is distrusting of you right now. Slowly, you pull out the chocolates and hand it to him.

"Aww, do you really have to be so stiff?" He chuckles, tilting his head slightly, it felt half mocking, half curious as he graciously took the box from you and gingerly opens it.

"Oh my, this is quite a romantic gift. Could it be the Gray Raven Commandant is harboring feelings for an Ascendant?" He muses, feigning shock.

You roll your eyes and attempt to snatch the box out of his hand. "I can always take it back."

He leans back, looking almost offended, keeping the chocolates out of your reach. "Of course not! Anything from you is treated with the utmost care."

"But this is the first time you're getting something from me?"

He smiles, popping a chocolate in his mouth before tucking the box away in his coat. "Well now, should we start the game?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"Is this place real, or an illusion?" He stares at you, smile still on his face as the question hangs in the silence.

"...What?"

"Is it real, or an illusion?"

His expression is indiscernible, emotions hidden behind the thick curtain of a jester's smile. The silence of the area you're in is deafening, the previous chirps of crickets had long gone, leaving you and Roland in a pool of knee deep water, sprinkled with mechanical bugs on its surface.

As much as those things may have been fake, you were certain the rest couldn't be. The lake, the bamboo, those things had to be real. The amount of materials required to do something isn't something Roland would have access to, not to mention the time required.

"It's real."

He looks pleased, too pleased for your liking. "Is that your final answer?"

You hesitate. Are you wrong? Or is that just what he wants you to think? Indecision rips at your mind, your thoughts circling each other over and over, never getting any closer to an answer. Is he playing a trick, or are you overthinking? But he looked so happy when you said it was real, so you must've gotten it wrong, right?

"Uh...No!" You fumble, almost out of desperation. Your answer swings like a pendulum in your mind.

"No?" He drawls, putting a hand to his chin as he watches you.

"No...it's fake." You breath.

Roland raises a brow. "Are you sure?"

You suck in a breath, if you take it back again, you'll just be stuck in a never ending loop of second guessing yourself. "Yes."

Roland laughs and it makes you flinch, it feels especially loud in your ears for some reason. "Alea jacta est. Congratulations, my dear little puppet."

He announces with all his usual bravado as he closes the distance between you two. Alarmed you move back only for his hand to grip your wrist, rendering your hand with the gun useless. You pull at your arm as hard as you can, but you only succeed in earning a chuckle from him.

He pulls you close and before you can realize what's going on you feel lips press against yours in a greedy, pawing kiss. His teeth nip at your bottom lips, his tongue swiping over and attempting to push through your lips. You resist, refusing to open your mouth and using all your strength to break yourself free.

"Quit struggling." Roland grunts and twists your wrist unnaturally, a snap sounding up your arm and you open your mouth to scream, only for it to never make it out into the world and being swallowed by Roland instead.

His tongue explores every inch of your mouth with a fervor that speaks of an untold longing and desperation, an insatiable need that quickly overwhelms you with the pain in your wrist.

You feel drowsy, the edges of your vision blurring as continues his forced affection. You try to fight it, but you can't, your vision fading on a string of saliva between you and eyes of amber and ruby aglow like flames.

You gasp, your heart pounding as you stare at the wooden beams above you. It takes you a moment to realize you're in the abandoned tea house, the one you and your team decided to camp in.

You sit up slowly, your sleeping bag rustling quietly as you move. Your head hurts and you feel woozy just from sitting up, it takes you a moment to realize one of your wrists is bandaged, although it doesn't feel like it was done well despite it appearing to be wrapped properly.

You groan, how did you end up hurting your wrist again? Everything feels so foggy in your head that you can't remember.

"Hey Command- what the hell?" A captain dashes over to you, you vaguely remember his name being Casper.

Ah, that's right. You were sent on a mission to Kowloong to help assist a team that had gone for artifact retrieval. The battle ended a while ago and your team agreed to wait until day break to return to Babylonia.

Casper looks flustered, gently bringing your arm up to inspect your cast.

"Hey, Didi! Get Mao and have him dress a wound the Commandant got!" He yells to the door before turning back to you. "How did you do this? You should've asked one of us to help you if you didn't know how to wrap your injury."

You consider saying something, but instead you give a half-hearted smile and apologize. You don't want to cause them more grief than you likely already have.

An airy chuckle dances in the wind as the transport craft from Babylonia lifts off with its passengers. Pointlessly, Roland waves it goodbye as if you could see it- not like you'd appreciate it even if you did. Maybe you'd even hate him by now, if you hadn't before.

Still, like a fool he clung to the hope that you'd be someone he could count on. No, that's not quite right. Something he could own, a person he could claim for himself and not share with others.

As much as the temptation to whisk you away as you rested unconscious in his arms was deliciously enticing, he would be a fool to think he could protect you from Babylonia's lackeys, let alone in this old frame. Without a doubt the best of the best would come from you and he had difficulty enough with just Gray Raven, and that Kamui fellow and his original have been a pain too. The only way he'd be able to do that now would be to go to Der Meister himself and he made his skin crawl. He would never trust the likes of him with Luna, or you.

For now, he'll just have to settle with knowing where you are. He did his best to make sure everything was sterile when he made the incision, although he was still worried that it might get infected...Oh well, even if it did and that tracker got discovered, there are still others among your things, so it won't be that big of a deal.

"La vie est une fleur dont l'amour est le miel. 'Til we meet again, my dear."

#unhappy writings #pgr yandere roland #yandere pgr #yandere pgr x reader #yandere roland x reader #yandere #yandere punishing gray raven #punishing gray raven #punishing gray raven imagines #punishing gray raven roland #pgr fanfic #pgr fic #tw.noncon #tw.yandere #yandere writer #yandere fic #yancore

[punishing-eden]

Hello! Hope I'm not late for this sweet winter request!

Since it's December and it's a whole winter season storm going around, maybe a oneshot with Wanshi where it's just.. Sleeping and cuddling through the season together? Maybe paired with work that are supposed to be done before new year?

Sleep is Not for the Weak…

Wanshi x Commandant/reader

Summary:

Having just recovered from a small amnesia, you have to finish up your report before the end of the year arrives. You decided to ask Wanshi for help.

Tags: request, fluff, one-shot, sleep fic

"Hey, Wanshi," Kamui asked, "why can't you join us for our simulation drill?"

Wanshi was currently laying down comfortably on the sofa. Hogging all the cushions, Hypnos shifted his position. He ignored Kamui's question and remained artificially asleep.

"Hey, Wanshi~ how come you don't wanna join us today?" Kamui continued, " Didn’t Capt say dill training is a must?'."

No one wants to deal with Kamui when he nags. Wanshi, no matter how much of a sleeping expert, couldn’t tolerate it. With his eyes still closed shut, he replied, "I am busy."

The answer came out in a simple sentence, no further explanation was given. Confused yet unsatisfied, Kamui complained, “But all you do is sleep,” He pouted, “Man, I wish Capt. could let me off the hook that easily.”

“If you want me to be more lenient, then you should work harder,” Chrome said.

“Captain!?” Kamui jumped up.

Chrome was standing behind the sofa, “Besides, Wanshi is busy today, that’s why I excused him from our weekly simulation drill.”

On cue, Wanshi shifted. He stretch his limbs, yawning to show he was finally awake. “Well, I guess it’s time for me to go…” he spoke monotonously.

Getting up from the sofa, Wanshi give his limb another stretch, Chrome nodded and said, “Do offer my greetings to Grey Raven’s Commandant for me, Wanshi.”

“Wha-! No fair, how come Wanshi gets to hang out with the Grey Ravens!” Kamui protested.

“Kamui! Stop it!” Chrome scolded.

The door to Strike Hawk’s common room slid open as Wanshi exited, leaving his other two teammate bickering with each other. When the door closes, silence was welcomed. Without anything else in his mind, Wanshi made his way to your room. Giving the door a few knocks. He heard you said, “Come in.”

“Commandant, you are looking for me?” He spoke.

A commandant’s room usually are quiet spacious with ample of space to do workouts or another activities one wishes. However, your room was rather on the small side. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Your room just feels cozy and warm.

There, he saw stacks of paperwork, presumably mission reports, on top on your desk scattered messily. You, on the other hand, look a little disheveled. Still wearing your lounge wear, you hastily threw your military jacket on to remain professional.

“Thanks for coming, Wanshi.” You said and quickly grabbed another chair for him to sit down.

“…” In thought, Hypnos studied you and the state of your work load.

“I thought you were on leave,” he questioned, “Didn’t you just recovered from memory loss?”

You stopped what you were doing and looked back at Wanshi. Your thoughts felt complex, with juxtaposing emotions, you held a bitter smile. Slightly embarrassed, you fiddle with your pen before replying, “… well… I am a little behind in terms of work. I am struggling to remember what happened in all these mission files.” You place a hand on your forehead, “my memory is still a bit fragmented. I have been calling people over to help fill in the gaps.”

With a desperate sighed you continued, “My time in the medical ward, has delayed my progress on these report. If I don’t hand them in to the Ministry of War by the end of the year…” you stopped for you don’t want to know what will happen to you.

“I get it,” Wanshi yawned, “I’ll help you.” His tone was nonchalant, but you knew he means it.

Your tired eye lit up from his offer, immediately you both set off to work.

The whole time Wanshi sat next to you, you typed away in your report. He offered pointers and help fill in details that you missed. At one point, you couldn’t remember a portion of an event. Your brows furrowed together, thinking long and hard however, you still couldn’t recall the memory, “… I don’t remember what happened then. Didn’t we met the an android in an underground city or something? Or did we found a simulation projector?”

“… I didn’t get dispatched to a mission like that.” Wanshi replied.

He continued, “I was with the Grey Ravens for a bit at the south exit. I manage to clear a bunch of corrupted guarding around it. Needless to say, it’s a fairly easy job.” You began to type down what Wanshi said as he continue with his account, “The corrupted was nothing out of the ordinary, just a little slower in movements… To be honest, I don’t know much after that. Until the Grey Ravens arrived.”

Wanshi yawned, and you followed. Eyes feeling a little sleeping from your fatigue.

“Captain didn’t look to happy with me though,” Wanshi added, his account started to become daydream-like, bring you into a dreamy trance. He stretched his arms and lean down on the table, “… The grey ravens said something about Kamui being stupid…”

“…Stupid?” You questioned.

“Something about breaking formation and wrecking the powerhouse or something…” Wanshi blinked slowly.

Another yawn escaped your lips. Resting your head on your hand, you began to slouch and typed slowly with one hand.

“Does that ring a bell for you?” Wanshi asked.

Staring at the screen you didn’t reply, for it’s a tiring job to speak. So, shook your head. Eyelids heavy as you continued to listen to Wanshi talk. The nature of his voice is soft and quiet with a monotonous vibration. It easily became background noise to you as you continued to worked on your report.

It took a while for you to notice you were writing in circles, endlessly putting words on the document without reaching a point. Re-reading what you wrote it felt that Wanshi’s account was just as fragmented as your memory.

Your brows furrowed as you re-read everything until you felt a jolt from your table. You jumped to see Wanshi snap awake. He head looked around for a few second. He had been dozing off on your table; while almost falling off from it.

Quickly, he readjust himself. Bring an arm up, he rested his head on his hand, expression looks uninterested.

Although he promised to help you his self-serving attitude soon took overwhelmed him. The more tired he felt, the more his mind wander to your bed.

“What was the stupid part about again?” You asked.

“Something about breaking formation… and about endangering you, Your constructs were to leave first. Kamui was with you.”

Wanshi sat as you typed away. He gave a little yawn and spoke, “ You know, you don’t have to hand it in right before the year’s end, right?”

You stopped and looked at him puzzled.

He continued, “In general, when you hand in a report to any ministry, it just sit there for months because they have a lot of other reports to go through. This is why Celica hates writing waivers, because it takes a long time to get a response back.”

Getting up, Wanshi made his way towards you and said, “Commandant, I am tried. Let’s just call it a day.”

“I can’t,” you protested, “There’s still a lot of work to do- HEY!?” You yelled. The constructed at his point, had ignored you and slipped into your bed.

“Wanshi, you can’t sleep here!” You said.

“Hmm……” he only hummed in response.

Your frustration was bubbling, however, the more you look at Wanshi, you figured he will never budge. You sighed and slumped back to you chair. Head falling backwards, you looked up at the ceiling. It was just a blank grey space, but something about it makes it look more interesting than the mission report on your screen.

Suddenly, you felt an arm snake around your waist. It happened so fast, the next thing you know, Wanshi has hoist you up by his hip with one arm; like he was carrying a log.

Nonchalantly heading towards the bed, he yawned. “Wait! What are you doing!?” You wiggled about.

“…I am a medic in some way… I am just prioritising your well-being” He reply.

Practically, he toss you in bed before he, himself, slipped in and began to doze off.

“… the repor-”

“When humans don’t get sufficient sleep, the poorer their memory will be. You just recovered from memory loss, right?” Wanshi spoke as he remains asleep.

The room went quiet after that. Half of you was worried about your condition. The other half, you hate to admitted it, wants to just take it easy and give it a rest.

Without a word you doze off and drifted into sleep.

Temperature lowered and entering in deep sleep, Wanshi opened his eyes. He looked at you to make sure you were indeed fast asleep. Carefully, he got out of bed and went towards your computer. The file for the mission report was still up. Without a word, Hypnos began typing away. It took him a good half an hour to fill in all the necessary details.

Without a word, he returns back to the bed and continue his slumber.

**************

“What time is it?” You woke up groggily.

“Morning, afternoon, night… either of those three…” Wanshi answered, with his eyes still shut.

—————————————————————————

Author’s notes:

First Wanshi fic!

I feel shamed that I haven’t got to Echos Aria. ;w; So, if the characterisation is a little wonky, I do apologise. I am just writing about hi based on his interlude and Affection Lvl.

BTW, if you are wondering which mission Wanshi is referring to, it’s the other one-shot I wrote: In Kamui, We Trust.

#pgr #punishing eden #punishing: gray raven #punishing gray raven x reader #pgr wanshi #pgr wanshi x reader #pgr x reader #one shot #writing requests #sleep fic

[watanabes-cum-dump]

If someone (who is not a bot) interacts with this post I’ll write Hassen smut

#Pgr #punishing gray raven #pgr smut #You guys get it right???? #Ik he’s like fifty bUT- #oh god and please don’t follow me for my smut and the occasional fic i post i am NOT consistent with it #If you REALLY want dilf smoot tho I’ll tag u if u ask

[starryficsfinishwen]

the Halloween fic I've been writing for a few days now will unfortunately be moved (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠) partly because I've been busy with real life responsibilities.

I also didn't want to spoil this but: not only that, I'm currently writing/planning something not only one, but TWO books (is that the right term? LOL).

why don't we play a guessing game? (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

hint: from PGR, one of my favorite constructs, blonde hair, one of y'all chosen husbando.

another hint, related to him:

he who moves up and down, straight

leaves no room for mistake

he who swore fealty to his royalties

as long as there are no casualties

he who roams the battlefield fearlessly

protecting who he holds dearly

When I'm done planning this and starting the initial drafts, I'll defo share it soon.

goodluck guessing :>

#pgr #punishing gray raven #punishing gray raven imagines #pgr commandant #really starry another fic?! #hold my pens and notebook

[toastthewolfie]

I NEED TO SEE SKK HAVING AN EXPLOSIVE BREAKDOWN LIKE

WE ONLY SEE THEM WAKE UP AND HELP LIV AND THEN THEY HAVE A CONCUSSION AND IN NOAN’S AFFECTION STORY, IT SAYS WE’RE OVERWORKING OURRSELVES BUT ITS NOT E N O U GH

I WANT TO SEE THEM CRYING IN A MEETING ROOM WITH NO ONE AROUND BEVAUSE THE GUILT HAS BEEN EATING THEM FROM THE INSIDE OUT, CRYING BECAUSE THEYRE WONDERING IF IT WAS BETTER THEY JUST DIED IN PULIA, I NEED TO SEE KICKING OR PUNCHING A WALL IN THEIR EMOTIONAL STATE AND THEN JUST COLLAPSING TO THE FLOOR AND SOBBING.

PLEASE KURO MAKE SKK MENTALLY UNSTABLE AND P A T H E T I C

#Pgr #yall if there’s a fic like this TAG ME #PLEASE #MAKE SKK PATHETIC

[narastories]

there is a performer who wants you on the stage a little longer

Again, if you're not a Punishing: Gray Raven fan: don't worry about this.

Unless you are curious and/or concerned about my sanity seeing the tags, of course, I welcome questions in that case lol

For PGR fans this is just your run-of-the-mill, soft, mildly poetic Commandant/Construct fic, but I'm a little concerned that it might come across as highly weird for anyone else ^^" Fandom: 战双帕弥什 | Punishing: Gray Raven Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Commandant/Roland (Punishing: Gray Raven) Characters: Roland (Punishing: Gray Raven), Commandant (Punishing: Gray Raven), Reader Tags: Present Tense, POV Third Person, (1st Chapter), POV Second Person, (2nd Chapter), POV Alternating, ambigously gendered Commandant, with they/them pronouns, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Waking from Coma, spoilers up until the beginning of Chapter 17, and Roland's affection story, I wrote it for myself but you can read it too, The Author Regrets Everything, Game Logic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary:

In Evernight Beat, Roland had a hand in the events that led to the Commandant's injury. Let's say, he doesn't feel very good about that.

Read on AO3

Listen to my random audio moodboard

#no one else was going to do it #so I did it #I knew this was going to happen #quasi-self-insert anime game fic is now ticked off of my 2023 bucket list #punishing gray raven #pgr roland #my fic #nara shut up about pgr challenge #roland/skk #roland x commandant

[sabotsen]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 恋与深��� | Love and Deepspace (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lí Shēn | Zayne/Main Character Characters: Lí Shēn | Zayne, Reader Additional Tags: Pining, Minor Violence, Touch-Starved, Loneliness Summary:

Is there any salvation to be found in a dream that was never his to begin with?

#love and deepspace #fic #.tsen fic #pointedly does not make eye contact with my 4 pgr wips

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

Greetings Lati. This is my first time doing this. But have you heard of the game [Path to Nowhere]? If you haven't, please, please, search it up. I promise it will be worth it.

unfortunately i haven't heard of this game, but holy fuck the art looks absolutely beautiful?? like oh my god there's so much attention to detail and not to mention how the hues go perfectly well together akjsakc,,

#lati speaks #literally how does one become this good at art?? #i'm actually gonna check out it and see the trailers on yt #i'm also gonna go check pgr too so if i start producing fics for either one this was all on you nonnie

[blitzyn]

relax

alhaitham x m!reader

Request: well, since requests are open, perhaps I could request an alhaitham X male s/o where s/o has been really stressed lately with school and has been overworking himself. Because of this, alhaitham being the caring boyfriend he is comes to comfort and relax his beloved s/o with sex and aftercare. If possible, pls let alhaitham call his s/o a 'good boy' and just a praise kink in general, tysm!! 💕 — @ezraelo

a/n -> this mf reminds me of my dad so i kinda wrote what I think he'd say if i was in reader's situation tbh. NOT THE SEX THOUGH. anyways pgr fic first then hate sex w/childe next its been decades since I've done him (⁠｡⁠♡⁠‿⁠♡⁠｡⁠) sigh sometimes i forget i don’t have to write so damn much

wc -> 3.6k

cw -> soft alhaitham (heart eyes pt2), anal fingering, anal sex, praise, not beta read

merry christmas and happy holidays!!

To say you were tired was an understatement—you were exhausted. Stressed. Angry. It felt like everything that could go wrong did go wrong.

First, you accidentally woke up late, was scolded by your teacher when you arrived and made the "perfect" example on what a scholar from the Akademiya should not be. Then you had to study for several hours for a few of your upcoming exams and evaluations—all while having to take some more tests the following week.

And as if that wasn't e-fucking-nough, you had done horribly on one of your essays so now you had to redo it for a better score, on top of needing to start yet another one regarding... Something. You forgot what the prompt was. Honestly, you forgot to do a lot of things. Like eat. Or drink water. Which was something that really didn't help to improve your mood.

You stumbled through the door trying to pry your uniform off, haphazardly tossing your hat to the side. You felt like shit and wanted nothing more than to flop on your bed and stay in there for the rest of your miserable life. But, like the universe was trying to give you the biggest middle finger ever, one of the loops on your clothes got caught on the corner of a counter. While you'd normally just take it off and go on your merry way, you weren't having it today and just yanked yourself forward, tearing the loop and the fabric it was connected to.

Finally making it to your room, you flopped on the bed face-first, muffling the loud groan that came from you. You stayed like that for a moment longer before turning your head, remembering to breathe deeply.

Two knocks came from the door. "You okay?" Your boyfriend, Alhaitham, asked, leaning against the frame as he stared at you.

"You're smart. Figure it out yourself," you muttered bitterly, wincing at the accusatory tone in your voice. You sighed, deciding to face him. "Sorry."

He shrugged, walking to sit on the edge of your shared bed. "What's wrong?" He questioned, his expression unchanging even when he watched your brows furrow in irritation.

"It's just... Ugh," you grumbled, rolling your eyes childishly. "Just a bad week. It feels like everything's going against me." You rolled onto your back, arms and legs sprawled out like a starfish. "I don't think I can catch up."

"You're in the Akademiya," Alhaitham said, giving you a look that made it seem like he didn't know why you were complaining. "Obviously it's going to be hard for you."

"'For you,'" you repeated, glaring at nothing in particular, but it was getting increasingly evident that you were beginning to direct your anger towards him. "Of course you don't get it. You've been smart your whole life."

He was quiet for a moment, letting you try to calm yourself before speaking again. "Don't sell yourself short like that. It's unhealthy."

You huffed. "It's not selling myself short if it's actually true." You pressed your palms against your eyes until you saw faint fireworks coloring the darkness. "I have to redo an essay because apparently it didn't go with damn prompt. Then I have to do another one, and I don't even know where to start, and—" you listed off your problems, your voice getting higher in pitch until you were on the verge of shedding tears, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of work you accidentally accumulated.

"Hey," he interrupted you, leaning to place a hand on your thigh. "Calm down." He gave you an unimpressed look when you snapped your mouth open to retort, watching you begrudgingly close it in defeat. "Breathe. You're getting worked up over things you can change."

But when you could hardly focus on utilizing the breathing techniques he taught you, he decided to take a different approach. "Let's have sex, then."

"What? Why? 'Cause of the post-nut clarity?" You sighed, rubbing your temple to stave off the impending headache after staring at him incredulously. Damn. Sometimes you forget how straightforward he could be.

Alhaitham gave you a look. It was deadpan—because when was it not?—but you could still sense the slightest bit of confusion. "If that's how you want to word it, yes," he said, before elaborating. "Sex can also help you relax and improve your immune system."

He quickly looked you up and down, and despite not saying anything, you knew what he was trying to imply. You looked like a mess.

"It can also help improve your quality of sleep," he added, crossing his arms against his chest. "It has a few other benefits than just feeling good, you know." He watched you ponder his suggestion, chewing on your lip absentmindedly before giving in with a sigh.

"Fine. But you're doing all the work," you said, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him better.

"That was the plan." The corners of his lips quirked up in a brief, subtle smirk as he leaned to place his hands on your shoulders to gently push you back down. "Just relax."

He continued when you nodded, running his hands along your body, gently caressing every curve and contour of your frame. An eyebrow raised in question when he felt the torn patch in your clothes but decided against mentioning it as he guided you out of your suffocating uniform with practiced ease. Already, you seemed a bit calmer than earlier, giving yourself a well-deserved stretch that made you remind him of a cat.

You felt the tension beginning to seep out of your body with every article of clothing that was carelessly tossed to the floor, reaching your hands out to tug him closer. He obliged without hesitation, sighing in satisfaction when he melded his lips with yours. His hands slid below your underclothes, snaking them upwards until they found your chest. He tweaked and pinched your nipples as he moved his way downwards, placing kisses along your jawline and neck.

You softly moaned, brushing your fingers through his hair that had him leaning into your hand. He removed your shirt, trailing appreciative kisses down your sternum. A hand made its way down your front toward your pants, slipping a hand inside to wrap his fingers around your flaccid dick. Your breath hitched, instinctively widening your legs to give him better access, much to his pleasure.

He was gentle; his hands were soft and careful, and neither of you were in a rush. You felt your eyes flutter shut as your lips parted with every quiet gasp and sigh that left you, and he couldn't help but stare.

It annoyed him how little you thought of yourself when he could clearly see you as something more. Sure, it irked him how you complained about things that could easily be changed if you put your effort into it, but you were also right. He always had it academically easy and often found it hard to connect with others or understand their problems on a level that wasn't with you. He was well aware of this issue, knowing that it often hindered his ability to comfort, and—for the first time in how long?—it frustrated him.

Even if he had no idea how to properly soften his words around you or to consistently change his facial expressions, he always showed he cared by spending time with you, teaching you new things, or helping you understand foreign concepts. But even then, he was willing to try to tell you that you were more than what those pompous Akademiya professors reduced you to, that you were better than what you said you were.

"Look at me," he said, his voice soft and smooth, coaxing your pretty eyes open. He slipped his hands out of your shirt and cupped your cheeks tenderly, ensuring your focus on him. "It doesn't matter what everyone says about you when they don't understand that you have strengths that rest beyond the traditional Akademiya expectations."

"But that doesn't—"

He gave you yet another stern look, to which you quieted down with a huff. "It's okay to struggle. Everyone does at some point. Even those professors found something difficult before they became what they are. But you know what they did?"

He paused, gauging your reaction. He was aware that what he was saying probably didn't make you feel better or make the most sense, but he hoped that you could feel the sincerity in his voice. "They took a step back, took a deep breath, and figured out what they were doing wrong. They didn't do that overnight or by working themselves to the bone. That's what you need to acknowledge."

"But all my other colleagues are doing fine, and I'm the only one struggling..." You appreciated his words, truly, but they did little to quell your worries.

"Are you? How do you know that for sure?" He countered, sliding his hands down to caress your hips. He watched you pursed your lips, squirming slightly under his gaze. "Point is, you shouldn't try to compare yourself to everyone around you and overwork yourself because that only leads to bad work and a bigger hole for you to climb out of. You have everything else to be proud of—not just your academic qualities. Understand? Besides, you made it into the Akademiya. That's something very few people can do in the first place."

You looked away with a frown, but you nodded softly. Even though it sucked knowing that you weren't the best, he did have a point. Wallowing in your own failure did nothing to better yourself, as much as you hated to admit it.

"Thanks," you muttered, sniffling a little. His thumbs swiped underneath your eyes, clearing away any of the tears that happened to escape you.

"Don't let them define you. Define yourself," he said finally, leaning back down to kiss you again. It was soft, tender, unhurried, like he wanted you to feel every ounce of affection he harbored for you. He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "Do you still want to do this?"

You nodded again, giving him a quick peck to the lips before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Mhm. I really need those benefits." Plus, you didn't favor being horny and sad.

Your lips curved in a smug grin when you saw his own quirk upwards in amusement, but he didn't comment on it. He sat up to tug your pants and underwear down, revealing your semi-hard cock. You shivered instinctively but kept your focus on him, waiting in anticipation for him to continue.

He leaned over to grab a bottle of lube from your nightstand, squeezing a generous amount on his fingers before pressing one into your hole. You sighed, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. He only offered a few pumps of his hand before adding a second one in, gently spreading them apart in a scissoring motion.

He wrapped his free hand around your cock, slowly jerking you off. He rubbed his thumb over the tip to smear the precum across your skin as wet sounds gradually filled the room. You noticed his eyes locked on your face and the expressions you wore, committing them to memory. He added a third finger for good measure, feeling you tense reflexively before relaxing just as fast.

"You're doing so good, [Name]," he praised, his voice low. He curled his fingers, pressing them against your prostate. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants at the sound of your moan, straining against the fabric. "I'm almost done. Then we can start."

You nodded, inhaling sharply through your nose when he began targeting the sensitive spot inside you. You could practically feel every surge of heat shoot up and down your spine, ending at your fingertips. Alhaitham could feel it too, every time your cock throbbed in his hold.

Your body felt warm and tingly when he moved both hands away from your body, wiping them off using a few tissues atop your nightstand. He grabbed the lube again and poured some on his palm to coat his cock, using his free hand to spread one of your thighs a bit wider. He peered up through his lashes, subtly raising an eyebrow in question. He continued as soon as you nodded, slowly pushing himself inside you.

You both let out a satisfied groan as he filled you, grasping onto his wrists as he held onto your hips.

"Fuck," he hissed, pushing further until he bottomed out completely. "You're such a good boy. You're taking me in so well." He perked up in attention when he felt you tighten at his words, noting how your eyes fluttered shut like you were savoring them. He wasn't overly aware of this newfound information, but maybe you had accidentally brought it to his attention now that you're stressed?

Either way, he didn’t comment on it, instead deciding to continue. “You feel so good, [Name]," he praised, leaning down to press his lips against the skin underneath your earlobe. You could feel the low rumble of his voice vibrating in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He let you take a moment to adjust to him before moving, gently thrusting his hips.

You noticed him moving away again as you opened your eyes, finding yourself enamored with the way his muscles flexed in every movement of his. Soft gasps and moans left your lips when you looked up, instantly noticing his gaze on you.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumbled shyly, squirming a bit. It wasn’t that you hated having him look at you—frankly, that’s all you longed for sometimes, it’s just that what you did hit you. Being as vulnerable as you were wasn’t something you preferred, even when Alhaitham didn’t berate you for it.

“You were staring at me, first,” he countered swiftly, and you could hear the rare undertone of his amusement in his voice. It was your favorite sound. “Besides, what’s the harm in looking at the most handsome man in Sumeru?” His monotony nearly made his words laughable, but you could see that he was genuinely trying. Knowing that sent butterflies in your stomach all over again.

You looked away, effectively flustered with all his attention. “It’s embarrassing…”

“Only because you make it embarrassing,” he said, sliding a hand upwards to toy with one of your nipples. He subtly shifted his hips, angling them so that his cock better pressed against your prostate. He watched you intently when you let out a throaty moan, feeling his dick throb inside you.

You reflexively clenched your thighs tighter against his hips, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. You snaked a hand down to your leaking cock, wrapping your fingers around the base to give it a squeeze. “You can go faster,” you muttered, looking down to watch the way he slid in and out of you.

He nodded with a quiet hum, adjusting his grip on your waist to shift the weight on his knees to sacrifice his slower, deeper thrusts for quick and shallow ones. Moaning, you jerked yourself off in time with his movements, unable to tear your gaze away from him, even for a moment. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you brought your free hand up to bring him closer to you by the back of his head. You kissed him needily and fervently, letting out noises that mixed in with the wet sounds that came from your hole. Your body rocked gently, listening intently to the rustling of your bedsheets and Alhaitham’s deep, husky breaths.

Suddenly, he lifted a hand up to place over your abdomen, lightly pushing down on it just as he buried himself balls deep inside you. He paused for a moment, sighing as he watched you squirm at the sudden stop before continuing, feeling himself move in and out of you. You could feel the heat in your belly intensifying with every thrust to your prostate, back arching, legs tightening around his waist.

“Fuck, I’m…” you panted, clenching tighter around his cock. “I’m so close, ‘Haitham.”

“I know. I can feel you,” he said, gently moving your hand away from your leaking cock to wrap his fingers around it. Quiet slaps mixed in with your soft noises and his breathy grunts as he fucked you a bit harder, eyes fixated on the blissful expression on in your face. His dick throbbed inside you as he eagerly chased after his own orgasm, leaning down to press his lips to your jaw, kissing up towards your ear.

“C’mon, [Name], cum for me,” he whispered, sending yet another wave of heat shoot up and down your spine. You could hardly stop the stream of moans that spilled from your lips as he focused on the tip of your cock, rubbing his thumb on the sensitive spot just below it, as if trying to coax out your cum.

“Oh god,” your voice was strained as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten to an unbearable degree, trying to hold out just a little longer. “F—Fuck! Alhaitham!” You moaned in ecstasy when you finally came, squeezing your eyes tightly shut. You tensed and trembled as your dick spurt cum on your stomach and his fingers as he helped you ride out your high.

“You’re so beautiful when you orgasm,” he groaned, his thrusts beginning to lose rhythm as he neared his own climax. He dug his fingers into your waist tighter, muttering praises into your ear when you began squirming at the discomfort of your overstimulation. It didn’t take much longer for him to finish as he stilled, gritting his teeth when he quickly pulled out to stroke himself to completion. He sighed in satisfaction when his orgasm subsided, leaving your abdomen coated in ropes of his cum.

“Wh—Why did you pull out?” You panted, wiping a bead of sweat off of your forehead.

“Isn’t it annoying to clean up afterward? You're always complaining about it whenever we have sex,” he questioned after a moment, taking a second to bask in the afterglow before getting up to reach for a tissue to clean your skin. He put his pants back on, gathering your clothes to put them in a laundry basket.

You shrugged. “I mean, sometimes. But I’m gonna take a bath either way.” You blinked in confusion when you saw him quirk a brow, fidgeting a bit when he didn’t stop staring at you.

“No. You’re going to sit and wait here while I make you something to eat, first,” he instructed, leaving no room for negotiation. “Afterwards, you’re going to go to sleep. Then you can take a bath when you wake up.”

As if on cue, your stomach growled audibly, quickly reminding you that you haven't eaten anything since yesterday. "But then I'm gonna be all sticky and gross when I eat," you said, knowing how much he disliked having dirty bedsheets for too long. It surprised you when he shrugged, leaning against the doorframe as he waited for you to decide.

"If you want to take a bath first, then I'll help you," he offered. You swiftly nodded, wanting to eat clean and comfortably. He nodded and told you to wait for a moment as he prepared the water for you, leaving you by yourself for a while until he returned. The two of you walked into the bathroom where a bathtub of warm water awaited you. But just as you raised your leg to enter, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame you. Luckily, Alhaitham was there to keep you from falling with a firm hand on your arm, carefully helping you into the water.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes darting across your face for any sign of distress. He relaxed upon seeing nothing but waited for your response for further confirmation.

"Yeah. It's just something that happens when I get too hungry, y'know?" You explained sheepishly, splashing some of the water onto your arms and back.

"No, I don't know." He ignored the way you rolled your eyes. "I'll be right back, then."

You hummed to yourself, not minding his absence as you savored the warmth surrounding you, resting your head against the edge of the tub. You nearly fell asleep in the time it took for Alhaitham to return, jumping in surprise at the sound of his voice.

"Hey," he spoke, returning to your side with a bowl in his hand. "Eat this for now."

He kneeled down, bringing the bowl close enough to let you reach in and take whatever was inside. They were fruits, you saw as you happily grabbed one, tossing it into your mouth. You had to stop yourself from grabbing a handful and eating it all in one go, forcing yourself to appreciate every bite. You noticed him shifting behind you, leaning forward instinctively when he began cleaning your back with a small, wet towel.

The two of you basked in the comforting silence for a while as you let him take care of you until you turned your head to face him. "I love you," you said with a little grin.

"I know," he replied, putting the bowl onto the floor.

"Say it back." You pouted, but you knew he was only teasing.

His mouth quirked up in a faint smile, leaning forward to give you a quick peck on your lips. "I love you too."

#alhaitham x male reader #reader insert #genshin impact #male reader #male reader insert #reader smut #reader #genshin impact smut #male reader smut #x male reader #genshin smut #al haitam x reader #alhaitham x reader smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x male reader smut #x sub male reader #bottom reader #dom character #top character #gay

[renonm]

STUFF ──★ ˙◻️ ̟ !!

•I mainly write for Mashle right now

• can do enstars/twst/charisma house/genshin/pgr if i can lol. . .

•i can write drabbles/hc/fics

•cat meow

RULES ──★ ˙😱 ̟ !!

•no smut.(slight suggestive is alright)

•can do x reader, any gender just specify, if not specified, it will be gn

•can do fluff, ill try for angst

•no weird requests please.

•please try to be specific in the request!!

•plz also be patient because i am just some bored student who enjoys writing for their leisure time. . .

cat nya.

#mashle x reader #ensemble stars x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #mashle #ensemble stars #twisted wonderland #pleasepostimgonnacryifnot #charisma house x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #punishing gray raven #punishing gray raven x reader

[unhappy-last-resort]

In the interest of keeping ones darling safe, many opt to keep them at home or within some confined space while the yan is away with the intention that they'll always know where you are.

However, this provides alone time- and while alone time is important, it gives you lots of time to ruminate about how much you hate your situation, formulate escape plans, and execute them.

That's why you never get to be alone. Maintenance, briefings, training, missions, frame changes, you'll be there for it all and more. You will never get a moment to yourself. Yes you will bathe under their watchful gaze, yes you will use the bathroom in their presence, yes you will dress and undress while they watch, yes you will breakdown on the floor sobbing with them near and dear.

You'll get used to it eventually. You will adapt to this new way of doing things, it's for your own health and safety. Besides, they're always under constant supervision from a higher power and they've grown accustomed to it, so you can too. Just relax. Let them take care of you.

Alpha, Bianca, Chrome, Hacima, Lee, Luna, Roland, Vonnegut

#unhappy drabbles #yandere pgr x reader #yandere pgr #yandere chrome pgr #yandere lee pgr #yandere hacima pgr #yandere alpha pgr #yandere luna pgr #yandere vonnegut pgr #yandere roland pgr #yandere bianca pgr #pgr fic #pgr drabble #yandere #yandere drabble #yandere concept #yancore

[punishing-eden]

Hi been following your blog for a while now and I finally racked up the courage to ask for a request.

The new Chrome Glory frame's idle voice line was super cute like Skk just falling asleep and Chrome sing-songing them to wake up or they'll get a cold but skk doesn't absolute fluff.

It however got me thinking Skk is very overworked their character is so hardworking that in Echo Aria they were fading in and out of consciousness but was insisting they were fine.

I'm a sucker for a sickfic or one of those fics where one has to tell the other to go sleep because they can tell their tired or the fics where the other can't sleep and the other soothes them to sleep.

A bit indulgent I know, but they, funny enough also help me sleep because my mind just constantly races. Any one of those scenarios would be cute to read with Chrome either frame.

Thank you for reading.

Being Here with You...

Chrome (Archlight) x Commandant/Reader

Summary:

Having caught a fever during a battle you have no choice but to rest. With Chrome, he is here to make sure you recover well enough to head back to the base.

Tags: Fluff, Sickfic, Sleeping fic, one-shot, request

Trudging your way through the battlefield, you noticed your breathing got heavier. you couldn't help but feel your eyes water from your fatigue. 'no,' you said to yourself, 'I must keep moving!'

Sluggishly, you leg felt heavy as you began to fall behind from your team.

"Commandant?" Lucia turned around and asked.

The dizziness began to pick up its momentum, hitting you in waves as you tried to focus on your mission. The rain, at this point, started to pour a little harder.

"I am fine," you managed to speak.

Forcing yourself to push through, you ignored the warnings and concerns from others about your crammed schedule that suddenly arose in your mind. As if now you have finally realised how bad your health has plummeted, with one last step, too weak to support your weight yourself, you came falling down on the muddy ground.

"Commandant!"

*******************

The sky went from dark to light grey as the rain poured heavily, washing the scent of oil and vital fluids away.

"Temperature's reaching 37 degrees," Liv said.

Her hands gently swipe a strand of hair from your forehead. Your clothes have been disposed of near a makeshift campfire, leaving you with your undershirt and shorts.

Lucia had just come back with more firewood and had added them to the fire. In hopes, to dry your clothes as soon as possible.

You shift slightly, head resting on Liv's lap, and you pulled on Lucia and Lee's jacket closer. Trying to suppress the involuntarily cold shivers running through your body.

"How's Commandant?" Lucia asked.

There was a look of worry on Liv's face, "Fever's starting to run high," she said.

"I have used Commandant's comm to request for a medic," Lee said, "They should be here by-"

Suddenly, your comms in his hands began to ring. A new message came through.

Lee accepted the message and proceeded to send it to everyone's inner devices. There was a moment of silence as the group comprehended the message. With a frustrated sigh, he commented, "Group D needs backup... Now is not a good time..."

"I-I could stay with Commandant, while you go..." Liv suggest, although she wasn't confident in this decision.

The two other construct heasitated.

"The location of Group D is by the port on the other side. If anything is happening here, we won't make it in time." Lucia said.

Your comms rung again, it was another backup request from another group. This time they need a support construct.

"This is annoying..." Lee mumbled.

The group went silent, trying to think of solutions. They can't just leave you behind when you were having a fever.

Your comms notification went off again alerting, and hurrying your constructs to make a decision. Thinking hard, Lucia was the first to speak up," Lee said help is on its way, we should stay here until they come."

Her teammates both nodded in agreement.

"Whoever is coming, I hope they will be here soon," Lucia said.

"Well, you are just in luck, Lucia," Lee said as he point at the distance. Still foggy from the downpours, the Grey Ravens were able to make out a silhouette running towards them.

"A medic?" Liv asked.

As the figure approached. The group finally saw who had arrived. Drench in rain, water droplets dropped from his blond hair to his synthetic skin. Chrome came at the right time.

Catching his breath, he places the silver case, which he has been carrying the whole time, on the ground. Kneeling by your side he asked, "How's Commandant?"

"Fever is running high, Commandant has experience a few cold seizures. I have been able to keep the fever in check," Liv reported.

She, along with Chrome's help, moved you away from her lap to the ground. "Do you have any medicine at hand?" She asked Archlight.

Responding with a nod, Chrome went to the silver case and opened it. He took out his neatly folded white overcoat and underneath were medical supplies. Taking out a few bottles of pills, he let Liv inspect them. "Which one do you need? I got your call and hurried my way here. Wanshi couldn't come because he's got a hand full on our end."

"Looks like everyone is stretched tight for this operation," Lee said and got his gun ready, "Since Strike Hawk is here, I am more relief to leave Commandant."

Lucia nodded, "Chrome, do you mind taking care of Commandant while we are gone?"

"Noted," Chrome nodded, "I will send our coordinates to the base camp, so the reinforcements can come to pick us up."

"You have our many thanks," Lucia said. She then turned to you, still weak, as Liv held you up so, Chrome can give you the medication.

"Commandant, please be safe. We will be back," Lucia said and followed Lee to the port.

Carefully, Chrome held the bottle of water against your lip as you drank. After swallowing the pill, both Liv and Chrome placed you back down on the ground.

"As soon as the clothes are dry, put them on Commandant to prevent hypothermia. The most important thing is to keep the chest area warm," Liv instructed, "The medication lasts for about two hours, so please remember to give Commandant another dose then."

"Same dosage?" Chrome asked diligently.

"Yes, this medication tends to be drowsy. So don't overdose." Liv got the other bottle and continued, "These can also work as pain killers, if Commandant is in any pain you can also use these."

"Noted."

Liv gave an assured smile and nodded, "Thank you for doing this, I will be off now."

"Rest assured. I will take care of Commandant." Chrome promised. He watched as Liv ran in the other direction to help the other group.

Now alone with you, Chrome was confident to make sure you can survive out on this battlefield until the rescue team comes.

Resting your head on his lap, he grabbed his white overcoat, since he place it in the briefcase, the clothing was nice and dry. He managed to wrap it around you as your body shivered.

The construct stayed still for a long while as you rest. Eyes diligently survey the surroundings for anything feasible danger, but so far, there was none.

For a moment, he got a little distracted and looked down at you, still lying asleep on his lap. He studied your face since it was the first time he saw you sleeping so peacefully. Your brows were, for once, not furrowed together and your hands weren't fisted tightly.

You slept without a care.

As much as Chrome wanted to let you sleep, he checked the time before his hand gently hover above your face. He remains stoic and quiet. Thinking hard to himself. Staying in this position for a while, he let out a small breath and moved his hand to your shoulder, poking you lightly.

You did not stir.

He poked a little harder.

No reaction.

He tapped on your shoulder harder and you woke.

"Hmmm..." you let out a protest. Your head felt light as you slowly got up.

Groggily looking around, you notice Chrome next to you. Wiping the sleep away from your face, your vision cleared with Archlight in front of you, holding a water bottle and a little pink pill in his other hand.

Confused you looked at Chrome, but he spoke before you could ask him what was going on.

"Oh good you are awake, it's time to take your medicine," he said.

"Medicine?" you asked.

"Do you not know what happened?" Chrome asked.

You shook your head, head still feeling terrible, but it felt much better than before.

"My head hurts... Where are the others?" you asked. As Chrome gestures insisted, you took the pill, popped it in your mouth, and took a swig from the bottle of water.

"They currently placed in different stations as a backup. I am tasked to supervise you before the reinforcements come." Chrome explained.

No matter how thorough his explain was, you didn't quite hear him. Your mind wandering with disoriented thoughts. Your face, still flushed with fever, you spoke, "I got to find them..."

Stubbornly, you fought the fatigue and were about to stand up when Chrome quickly grabbed you and pulled you back down, "Commandant, wait! You are still sick, it is best to stay here and recover than engage in battle."

"I will be fine... I did this before..." you protested.

"No, it's too dangerous." Chrome argued, struggling to pull you back by the arm.

Your brows furrowed, annoyed by the construct's actions. Seeing how much you insisted on leaving, Chrome had no choice but to wrap his arms around you and pull you back down with him.

"Forgive me Commandant, but I must keep you safe," he said sternly. He held you tight as you wiggled about.

Only, for your movements began to slow down. Your protest grew weak and before you know it, you let out a big yawn.

"See?" Chrome spoke softly, "Please take a rest, Commandant."

"..." you went quiet and gave your current situation a thought. You couldn't argue that your eyelids were feeling heavy. Your head was still pounding, and your body was screaming for you to let it take adequate rest.

"...fine, I guess I could take this opportunity to "slack off", like how everyone has been telling me to." you made a dissatisfied look. Looking up, your eyes met with Chrome's, "Just wake me up ten minutes before the reinforcements arrive."

With that, you lay your head against Chrome's chest. Following the rhythm of his breathing; you know it's artificial but you never paid mind. Slowly, you drifted off to your very much-needed slumber. Naturally, you snuggled close to Chrome, finding comfort from his arms holding on to you. somewhat also acting as a mattress or the alike.

This left Archlight in a rather troubling position. What would he suppose to do if he needs to move? Should he wake you up when you are supposed to stay asleep? However, he thought that maybe this isn't so bad.

"Really...what must it take for you to get some rest? " He lets out a defeat sign with a smile. He doesn't mind being your bed, if it means for you to recover and get some rest.

Regardless, shifting his arms securely around you, he adjust his coat to make sure you were warm enough before returning his gaze to survey the area.

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

Author's notes

As I wrote this, I was thinking should I go for a sick fic or a sleep fic. Then I thought, why not both?

Tbh, I actually haven't done Echos Aria yet. (I also didn't get S Chrome) :/

Maybe, I might get to it in the future.

#punishing gray raven #pgr #punishing eden #punishing: gray raven #pgr x reader #pgr chrome #ask request #Sick fic #Sleep fic #One shot

[watanabes-cum-dump]

listen, am I saying Hassen is hot? Yes. Is he fifty? Also yes. But come on look at him he’s so

Like does he not look like sugar daddy material? He aged WELL god DAMN. I need more lore on him stat Kuro somebody’s gotta translate the rest of the comic chapters KURO GET ON IT I SEE THE MANGA SECTION ON THE MAIN WEBSITE YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO

#pgr #pgr Hassen #my favourite npc #punishing gray raven #GIVE ME GILF LORE!!! #also if we got young Hassen can we have young Nikola??? #pls pls pls pls I’m soooo curious abt his Kurono days what crimes did he commit???? #also allegedly Hassen is 200 cm tall???? wtf fucking tree #I am far too invested in the NPCs of this game for my own good maybe I WILL act on that backstory fic I had in mind

[thesmallmeggles]

WIP Wednesday rolls around once again

This time we got an intro scene, plus a rewritten part of what I shared prior.

Forgot to mention in my last WIP Post that this fic does depict a character experiencing burnout and/or depression. Just as a heads up.

Research and Development's Thursday afternoon check-in meeting was well underway, only Zanzo had yet to arrive. Had this been his first absence, Macaron could let it slide. His index finger, seemingly of its own accord, rubbed the spine of the work journal clipped to his belt. He would have to seek him out afterwards, wouldn't he?

"Eyeballing his chair won't make him appear, sir," O5-KAR said, accented in trademark brogue. "It's best to keep on with business."

"Right." Macaron (does something). "How close are we to implementing the new BRU-T4L AI?"

"We finished another round of testing in Chamber Two," a PGR-0101 piped up. #11133 according to their worker identification badge. "But as you remember from the video I linked, things aren't going well."

Macaron knew. Four PGR-0101 units supervised a BRU-T4L, a seven foot monstrosity with spinning blades attached to its hands, as it pruned a potted hedge. For reasons currently under investigation, a CUT-WAN fresh out of repair bounded into the testing chamber. The BRU-T4L paused its labor, scrutinizing the robotic dog. Everyone watched in horror as the BRU-T4L reached down and… cradled the CUT-WAN in its long, rubbery arms. Attempts to retrieve the CUT-WAN from the otherwise aggressive BRU-T4L's hold resulted in snarling and severed mechanical limbs. Staff had to wait until the BRU-T4L ended its rumbling punctuated cuddle session on its own.

"I reviewed the code afterwards," #11133 said. "Someone edited it right before we installed it. The perpetrator added a series of commands related to a 'baby rocking mode'." Their statement ended with an air of disbelief. "To make things weirder, these same commands originated from the earliest iteration of the BRU-T4L's code."

Macaron thought for a moment. "Could Zanzo have added it?"

#11133 began. "Zanzo's an engineer-"

"And a disorganized one at that," O5-KAR interjected.

"So he often left the programming to us robots.  The last time he added a special feature to a product was to make it explode."

…

"Is Zanzo in his office?" Macaron asked #11133 as they were leaving.

"Probably. I don't think he's left since clocking in this morning."

...

Macaron knocked once before opening the office door. True to the SCR-UB's assessment, the area was a disaster zone. Notes and diagrams littered the floor, increasing in amount closer to Zanzo's desk. Out of curiosity, Macaron picked one up to read, only to find it marred by red ink scribbles and the scrawled comment: "AWFUL!!! Needs More PUNCH". 

Zanzo sat behind his desk, face planted on its surface. Most of his natural black hair had grown back in, leaving green tips. Its current style partly obscured the polymer port covers where his neural wires plugged in. (Zanzo didn't wear them now, as his current status blocked him from work pipeline access.) Macaron thought Zanzo was asleep until he raised his head. He pushed back from the desk, face frozen in a blank stare. Dark circles ringed his eyes and stubble covered his cheeks.

"Zanzo?" Macaron reached over to tap him on the shoulder. Zanzo caught the movement, nearly launching himself off his chair with a gasp. He scrambled to up the volume on his aural implants - silver disks located where organic ears would be.

“Mister Macaron! Are you here to tell me how good of a worker drone I’m being?” Zanzo smiled broadly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Without waiting for a response, he clapped his hands together. "Since you've graced me with your presence, I can show you, uh, show you the current model. One minute." Zanzo focused his attention on the computer, flipping through multiple tabs with dizzying speed.

Macaron rested a hand near Zanzo's forearm, and the latter froze. "You can email it to me afterwards." He pulled up a nearby stool and perched on it. "Zanzo, is everything alright?"

Zanzo chuckled. "I'm not dying anytime soon. You'll have to tolerate me a little bit longer."

"That's not what I-" Macaron cleared his throat. "You've skipped three staff meetings in a row."

"We're just doing the same thing we've done all month. Checking in is redundant. It's not like there won't be a summary log tomorrow."

Time for Macaron to play his trump card. "Then I suppose the fact we've moved on to renovating the BRU-T4L is of no interest to you."

"Perhaps." Zanzo stroked his goatee in a more absent minded way as he looked off to the side. Not the reaction Macaron hoped for.

"It's like one of your, er, babies. Shouldn't you be more worried about what'll happen to it?"

Zanzo paused to side-eye Macaron. "You've never consulted me about modifying my other creations before. What's changed?"

“I wanted to ask you about a specific feature the BRU-T4L has," Macaron said after a long pause.

A brief spark lit up in Zanzo's eyes as he straightened his posture. In that moment, Macaron glimpsed the engineering intern who'd pestered him with robot design concepts all those years ago. "By all means, ask away."

  "Why does it have a 'baby rocking' feature? It stands out compared to everything else."

"Why not?" Zanzo waved dismissively. "So maybe a self indulgent thought slipped through the pipeline during my drafting. And maybe, I neglected to remove the resulting feature. It doesn't carry as much weight as you think it does."

"You like being rocked?" The image of Zanzo cradled by the BRU-T4L in a similar manner to that CUT-WAN popped into Macaron's mind. Odd and, as Chai would say, mildly cursed.

Zanzo's jaw dropped. "I- not necessarily."

"Would something like that help you destress?"

"I ALREADY SAID-" Zanzo's outburst cut off and he sank down into his chair, rubbing his face. He let out a sigh. "Don't patronize me for this. Please."

Since when did Zanzo ever say "please"? "Zanzo," Macaron began. "I promise I'm not making fun of you. My priority right now is finding a way to support you."

"To answer your previous question, rocking is one of my stims. I rarely do so at work because…" Macaron nodded to encourage Zanzo finishing his sentence. Except he let it hang.

A long silence passed between them. Macaron broke it. "I'm thinking maybe that feature could be incorporated into a robot which doesn't have saw-blade hands. While we may be focused on renovating our current product line, that doesn't mean we can't plan for the future. This could be an opportunity to create something beneficial."

The corner of Zanzo's mouth twitched. "It's not exciting, though. Are you sure anyone would invest in it?"

"SCR-UBs clean. CAR-11Es, er, carry stuff," Macaron explained. "What they do is simple, but necessary. Most of the time, that's all anyone needs."

#wip wednesday #fanfic #hi-fi rush #hfr #hi fi rush macaron #hfr macaron #hi fi rush zanzo #hfr zanzo #post canon #headcanons #i made the funny character sad #for plot reasons

[starryficsfinishwen]

✧。◟ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ — chrome x reader [PGR] [Happy Activation Day Chrome!!]

please don't be in love with someone else

a.n. - sometimes chrome just raghhhhhh. HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHROMEE!! I promise to finish that other fic for you LOL also thank you for being one of my resilient lil construct, my Lucia and Wanshi are happy to be with you <3 mwa mwa (IM SORRY AGAIN IM LATE)

pairing - chrome x f!commandant

words - 7,881 (it's why I took long TvT)

tags/warnings - none. fluff! alcohol is involved yet again! chrome x reader shenanigans. yall up to what happens in the end uwu. non-sexual naked cuddling. cute stuff for chrome because happy activation day!!

The stars seemed to have blessed Babylonia tonight.

A crowded room. A brightly lit, dazzling chandelier. Wine and champagne glasses clinking together. Orchestral music filling the room — this is a sight that those who can afford luxury would generally see in their life. High society placed itself on top of the pedestal, overlooking its body that wore no gold.

Forget the war that raged outside; Babylonia beheld the grandeur of the rich folk for tonight, and the stars had rewarded their presence by granting the brightest evening for them.

Such sight is normal to a Smith. After all, they were always born with a silver spoon, to feed and to be fed by high society, for everyone to see.

But not for Chrome. He always thought this life was never fit for him.

There he is — champagne in hand, forcing laughter and faking smiles to those who are around him. Humanoid legs are already used to the wages of war, yet they trembled under the hours of talking to people that only blur in his M.I.N.D.

He is only here due to his father, Mr. Smith. “For you to be familiar with the people you will work with in the future,” he always said to Chrome, “be on your best attitude. Show them the makings of a true Smith.”

But they only bore him. He would rather be doing things that are mundane in the eyes of high society, such as lounging in the comforts of Strike Hawk's dormitory; dealing with Kamui's antics, helping Wanshi fix his sleeping pod, tasting Camu's dishes...or cleaning the corners of his room, or strolling the walkways of Babylonia, or playing chess with a certain someone...

A scene flashed in his memory — a warm hand reaching out to him, a sweet smile, a soft laugh, and the chessboard with scattered chess pieces in front of him. A scene that happened not too long ago, a memory so fresh that made him flush a light shade of pink. Was it the alcohol? No, usual alcohol would never make a construct drunk, unless...?

“How are you holding up, Chrome?” A familiar voice called out to him.

Mr. Smith. Holding an identical champagne glass in his hand, he looks up to Chrome with an expectant gaze. Chrome straightens, clearing his throat. “Mr. Smith, I am doing well. I have met the people you told me earlier.”

“Glad to know,” He nods, “it's beneficial as a Smith to meet your future prospects. You know that already, Chrome, don't you?”

“I do, Mr. Smith,” Chrome solemnly spoke.

“Other than that, have you seen the Commandants who are invited tonight?” Smith tsked, “they have commendable records. They seem to enjoy tonight's feast before they go back to war once more. Especially Gray Raven's Commandant, hm.”

Chrome's ears perked up. “Gray Raven's Commandant is here tonight?”

He knew the party was for high society, with some specially invited commandants. Yet, Gray Raven's Commandant? He overlooked that part, why didn't he know?

“Yes, it's understandable due to the glory they have brought to Babylonia countless times now.” Smith paused, moving his hand to make a circular motion with his glass, “I've seen them earlier. Now, they are nowhere to be found.”

“Ah,” Chrome slightly faltered, muttering, “a shame.”

“They also seem to blend well with us, I'd say.” Smith hums, taking a sip from his glass now, “they look well with us, even. We should try asking them to join when they retire.”

A particular thought crosses in Chrome's M.I.N.D. — a person wearing a simple dress amongst the crowd yet so vibrant, the same warm hand he saw as she held onto his arm, smiling fondly at him. The very thought that somehow made his heart crumble in a good way —

“Chrome?” Smith asked, causing Chrome to snap back to reality, “are you alright? You look red.”

“I do?” Chrome muttered, “I'm sorry. There must be something wrong with my cooling system after I got injured last battle. I am planning to get a maintenance check once more.”

“Alright then,” waving his hand, Smith nodded, “I'll leave you be. I need to meet with other people.”

“Thank you, Mr. Smith.” Chrome approaches the nearby table tp place his glass, “I will return soon.”

Finally, away from the party, Chrome found himself lingering outside. The garden outside of the hall seems to be the answer to his dilemma, the cool breeze and the artificial night decorated with the authentic stars sparkling above him. He breathes into this sight — once more, a thought that popped into his M.I.N.D.

“The sight may be beautiful in Babylonia,” your voice sent shivers down his spine, “but the ones here on Earth are prettier.”

Bright irises staring at him with a gentle gaze amongst the dark plains, a genuine smile on your lips, “don't you think so, Chrome?”

The memory shook Chrome, his heartbeat skipping. What was it with him lately? Thinking of a particular person that he holds with high regard? It seemed unlike him, the man who only thought of perfection. Battles and tactics are his expertise that makes up his thoughts, yet such stray memories and incredulous scenarios have distracted him since his recent rendezvous with that certain commandant...

His hands tremble. They seem lonely. A small part of him wishes those familiar hands would hold them right now.

Gray Raven's esteemed Commandant. The very thought of her makes Chrome weak. He who should maintain a professional, beneficial relationship with her. Yet, thoughts beyond that relationship seemed to have spawned in his M.I.N.D.

Chrome entertains that thought to no avail. After all, a small part of him wishes he should have seen or heard from you tonight.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star~”

Yes, something like a nursery rhyme that is sung by you. Sometimes, Chrome thinks you drove him insane to the point that he's having hallucinations of you.

“...how I wonder where you are~”

Wait. That voice seems closer and familiar. Surely, he wasn't dreaming. Chrome rushes to the source of the voice.

“up above the world so high,” the voice hiccupped, “like a diamond in the ska-ay~!”

Chrome thinks this sight is one of the best he's ever seen: sitting on the ledge of a fountain, gazing at the water beneath, your sky-blue dress nearly submerged yet you didn't look like she minded; in fact, in your hand was a glass of unfinished wine, and your face seemed too pleased with your antics, a contagious smile written on your face.

Gray Raven Commandant in the flesh. And drunk. (According to Chrome's readings anyway)

“Commandant!” Chrome's voice - shaking? - echoed throughout the garden, making you look, “Over here! What are you doing?”

You finally look at Chrome, your usual bright eyes laced with tiredness and mirth. Upon recognizing the figure that was approaching you, you cheerfully raised your glass to him.

“Hello stranger!!” your shoulders shake with visible joy, “you're hereeee, come on, come on! Join me in watching the fishies~”

Stranger? Perhaps the alcohol fogged your senses. ���Fishies?” Curious, Chrome follows where your hand points, to the fountain...devoid of any fish, “I...see?”

Instead of fish, Chrome could recognize that the 'fish' the Commandant referred to are the coins that people must have thrown into the fountain. The reflection brought by the moonlight highlighted with the pattern underneath the fountain must have tricked you into thinking she was talking to fishes. Not wanting to break your delight, Chrome plays along.

“I named that lil' blue fish Lee, because he looks grumpy.” You giggle as you point to a blue-shaded coin, “then that pink one is Liv!”

“That's cute, Commandant,” Chrome chuckles, opting to sit at a considerable distance from you, “who else did you name?”

Lights over the garden seemed ethereal. Haloed with the gentle glow of the skies, the white noise of the party inside the hall, and the mellow laughter of the Commandant — Chrome could easily capture this memory for a lifetime, although you couldn't recognize him. He could try taking away the glass in hand and tell you that you're drunk, but he does not. Instead, he asks more about the 'fishes' you found. And somehow, you went silent.

“Commandant?” Chrome gently pokes the silent Commandant, “are you alright?”

“Mmm,” closing your eyes, you tapped your chin, “stranger, I can't see Chrome...”

The nickname seems to grow on him now. “Well,” he shrugged, “maybe he's sleeping.”

“Fishies never sleep!” opening your eyes just to stare at Chrome, “that's basic knowledge!”

Chrome could finally see you properly: the dress snugly fit you, the train already submerged in the water. Some strands of your hair framed your face perfectly. Alcohol flushed your cheeks in the shade of pink. Irises that still lit brightly amidst the dark, a sight Chrome could never forget. Blinking to come back to reality, Chrome reached out to brush away the strand that was on your lips.

“Some fishes sleep with their eyes open.” Chrome smiled, “but what you said is still, it's true, Commandant is always smart.”

A smug smirk flashed on your lips, arms crossed to assert her amusement, “hm! I told you!”

One of the sleeves fell to your arm as you moved. Flickering to that, Chrome spoke before reaching out to lift it, “Yes, of course. Commandant, are you not cold?”

“Nope!” Somehow filled with a new burst of energy, you drunkenly placed the glass in front of Chrome, making Chrome reel back, before struggling to stand up on the ledge with the heels on. Chrome acts quickly, aiding you by holding your legs for support. “I realized something!”

“Commandant! What are you doing, get down!”

“I need to find Chrome!” you spoke with such reverence, it could make Chrome cry, yet it only made him scared, “he could be drowning!”

Drowning? “Commandant, I know you're smart,” Chrome hesitates, before speaking, “but fishes don't dro-”

“-I know what I'm doing!” you grin at him, rotating your arm as if exercising and exhales, “that's why I'm going to save him from this ocean!”

At that moment, Chrome realizes where he went wrong. “Wait, Commandant, no!”

At least he tried to stop her.

A shivering Commandant is wrapped in Chrome's coat for tonight.

“Are you alright, Commandant?” Chrome spoke as he ran through the streets, “do you still feel cold?”

After the stupid attempt at jumping head-first into the water, Chrome had to save you - even after trying to get away from his hold. Now, you were tightly wrapped in Chrome's coat, carried like a princess in his arms.

Sneezing, you shook your head furiously, “I'm fine, you stranger! Why did you stop me?”

“The waters in Babylonia in the evening get colder. I don't want you to suffer from hypothermia.”

You whine, before sneezing once more. “I was fine! Oh well, I managed to get Chrome though.”

“You managed to- what?”

Fishing out of his hold and the coat, you childishly held out a white and blue-tinted coin. Chrome could only sigh in disbelief.

“Also, put me down, you stranger!” Attempting to wiggle out, you whine more as Chrome tightens his hold on you, the familiar way illuminated by the lights already in sight, “my mama said not to trust strangers!”

“Right,” Chrome laughed, his heart skipping a beat, “don't worry, I'm taking you to Chrome right now.”

Halfway through the run, you drifted off to sleep (and it granted Chrome the opportunity to see you comfortable with your guard down). Finally, they arrived in front of the Smith Estate.

Carefully opening the door, Chrome is met with a comforting silence. Were the cleaning robots still around? He knew his father wouldn't be around until the next day, which meant the robots were the only company. Stepping inside, he finds the place deserted, the faint sound of the Commadant's breathing filling the room. Placing you (not minding the water dripping off of you) to his room on his bed, Chrome rushes to the kitchen.

Still no robots around. Easy to explain and less hassle to explain why a stranger was in his bed. He'll worry about that the next day. Quickly, he grabbed a few pieces of food from the fridge and concocted a hangover drink and water.

Upon returning to his room, Chrome finds you still asleep on his bed. Silently placing the items he brought for you, Chrome wistfully gazes at you.

“you're always taking care of me, Chrome,” you'd say if you were awake, your voice echoes in his M.I.N.D., “I want to return the favor.” (You are now corrupting his thoughts.)

A little stir from you made Chrome snap out of his daydream. Slowly opening your eyes, looking around your surroundings in a daze, Chrome leans down to check on you.

“Commandant,” he softly calls out to you, hand touching yours, “are you awake? Can you sit up?”

“Mmmhm,” rubbing your eyes as you sat up, Chrome aiding you, “where am I...?”

“You're in my room. I will take you back to Gray Raven's headquarters when you've freshened up and rested. Come on, drink some water.”

Your legs dangle on the side of Chrome's bed as you sat up. Your figure, although shivering from the stunt, still seems smaller than him. Chrome reached out to grab the glass of water and hold it out for you, but you only stare at him.

“Commandant?”

“Ch...” you whisper, slowly lifting your cold hands to cup Chrome's cheeks, “Chrome...”

His heart flutters at the call of his name. With a free hand, he caresses the hold on his cheeks. “Commandant?”

“Why are you...hot?”

Chrome's cheeks burn at your touch, he noticed. Was it really the cooling system, or that his growing fondness for the Commandant of another team making him like this?

“The cooling system,” he chose the first option, “I'm trying to get it checked, don't worry.”

“Mmh, Chrome...”

Your innocent, sleepy eyes were looking at him. And you were leaning closer to him. A human instinct, Chrome leans forward as well, until their foreheads touch.

“...Chrome. Why don't you call me by my name?”

It feels expensive. It feels surreal. He wanted to tell her, but the words die in his throat.

“I will only do so, if you wanted me to do it, Commandant.”

“Mmh.” Your breath fans Chrome's own lips, further intensifying the heat in both of your cheeks. “Then, Chrome...”

He closes his eyes. Closer, closer...until you pulled away so abruptly. And then, a warm liquid spilled across his chest.

Chrome's eyes opened. Sometimes, the timings are uncanny.

—

A bathtub full of bubbles, lavender dousing the room with its intoxicating smell. Near the bathtub, Chrome sweats nervously as he stares at the guilty figure sitting on the toilet.

“I'm sorry,” the Commandant, who was usually strong and courageous in the face of danger, shrunk in guilt, voice timid and remorse, “I didn't mean to puke in front of you.”

“It's alright, it's not your fault,” he dismisses it, smiling slightly, “I was planning to get you changed...”

He is already wearing a new set of clothing, compared to you. After that quick nap, you seem sober. But based on Chrome's readings, you are still far from being sober. At least, you recognize him now. Squeaking, you shook your head. “I can't just let it slide. Is there anything I can do for Chrome?”

Kneeling on one knee, Chrome awkwardly pats you. “It's okay, really. Um...”

A reddening blush was on Chrome's cheeks as the words died in his throat. He motions to your soiled clothes, clearing his throat in an attempt to gather his pride.

“Commandant, I am going to...” whispering, “...I'm going to take off your clothes so you can...um, take a bath.”

You stare at him. Blinking tired eyes at him, you slowly nodded. “Okay.”

You turn your back on him, presenting the zipper on your back. For you, it seemed normal (Liv and Lucia are always hands-on whenever you are invited to events like this, so they're seen what's behind those clothes). But Chrome, whose ventilation was now out of place from the possible outcomes running through his head, was shaking and turning into a blushing tomato.

“You can unzip me, Chrome,” you pipped, noticing Chrome's silence, “I can't reach the top.”

A shaky exhale from Chrome. He mutters something you couldn't hear, but could feel the small pressure from his hand holding your hair to the side before resting on your shoulder.

“I will...start unzipping you, Commandant.”

It feels...intimate. The way Chrome held onto the zipper with care, thoughts running wild in his M.I.N.D., dragging it down slowly. You notice it, despite the alcohol fogging your thoughts. The sound of Chrome's nervous breathing, the water dripping from the faucet, the bubbles on the tub — it almost makes you sober.

However, a question seemed to linger on your lips. But before you could ask, Chrome had already unzipped your dress, the sleeves finally down on your shoulders.

“I-I'm done, Commandant.”

You turned to Chrome, a smile on your lips, “Thank you! But...are you...okay...?”

“Yes.”

You weren't that convinced. In front of you, Chrome's hands shook, and his face was in the deepest shade of red. You tilted your head to the side, before shimmying out of your clothes. Yes, still in front of the man who has been nothing but an angel to you.

“I'm done!” You excitedly quipped, standing up, causing the dress to fall to the floor. “where am I going next?”

Seemingly snapping out of his trance, Chrome looks down to pick up your clothes and dashes to the door. He stops by the door frame, his back facing you. “I need to put your clothes in the washer. They'll be ready after you take a bath.”

“Chrome, will-”

But he was already out of the door.

Chrome remembers every part of the laundry process, even without help from the robots. Yet, even though he has loaded up the washing machine (he knows it'll be done in at least 2 hours, clean and fragrant), his hands are still shaking, the memory in the bathroom turning his mind into a haze.

Even when he closed his eyes after he unzipped your dress, or when he heard it drop to the floor, he couldn't help but imagine — how your skin must feel under his touch, soft or smooth; the expanse of your back, would there be goosebumps like when you touch him; would there still be a smile on your face even when you would know about his feelings?

He accidentally slams the door of the washing machine too hard. It's all pointless, really; all he wanted was to show how eager his rapt attention, yet terrified that he may have crossed unwanted boundaries. Maybe he needed some rest. That's right - it has been a long week anyways. Sighing, he leaves to go back to the bathroom, in case you fell back to sleep...

— except, he called it too early.

“Chroooome,” you cried out as you whimpered in the tub, bubbles covering everywhere but your face, “I'm drowning!”

Suffice to say, he wasn't going to be relaxed tonight.

The water was warm.

And so was the hand that you wish you held onto as you dangled your arm on the ledge of the tub, reaching out to Chrome, who sat on the floor. You wanted something - but the golden boy wouldn't budge.

“Join meee,” you pouted, “don't you see I am a lonely girl sitting here so lonely?”

The light of the bathroom casts a glow over Chrome's frame. The sound of the water splashing around, paired with his humming, sends your mind in a close lullaby, you fear you'll only fall asleep at this rate.

“I see you well, Commandant.” He shook his head, “however, I will stay here.”

“Mean.” Huffing, you sunk to the comforts of the bubbling water, feigning annoyance to him “At least I could wash your hair...you said you'd allow me to see you with your hair down...”

“Commandant,” it's a surprise how Chrome could still hold his composure, voice calm and cool, “you are drunk. You are also very dirty, so it's best you wash up now and get dressed in something warm.”

“I'm not drunk!” Exasperatedly raising your hands, you glared at Chrome, “and I can't wash my hair...”

You look at him expectantly, to which he stares back with curiosity. Pointing to your wet hair, you whispered. “I always wondered what it's like to have my hair washed.”

“And?”

“Will you...wash my hair, please, Chrome?”

Crossing his arms, he thinks for a moment. “Will you promise not to do anything stupid?”

“No.”

As he scoots closer to you, you reeled back. Chrome mistook it as something else, when he sees the look on your face.

“...don't tell me you are planning to wash my hair in that.”

“Pardon?”

“Strip!” you pouted, “I get fussy when someone isn't touching me.”

In an instant, you see Chrome's cheeks tint a shade of pink. “Commandant, that sounded...”

“Hurry up,” you yawned, scooting a little closer to the faucet on your legs, “I won't look.”

True to your word, you look elsewhere but wherever Chrome was. Raising your hands high to your face (look how pruned they are, the longer you stay), before the shuffling of clothes and the sound of cautiousness tiptoes its way into the water, beside you. From your peripheral vision, you see two hands reach out to hold your open hands — have these hands looked so lonely until Chrome came?

“Look at you,” he huffs, fingers caressing the pad of your pruned fingers, “you should have been faster.”

You find comfort in this cramped space — the warm water that you're doused in, a familiar body close to yours, a heat that you never realized you've been craving all this time. You crawl; on Chrome's legs, your scent intertwined with the smell of lavender, you hope it rubs on the man beside you. Unknowingly, you crawled further, until your back hits the sturdy structure of Chrome's physique, leaning back to curl up in his chest.

“Can we stay like this?” the words slipped past your mouth, faster than you could have noticed. Without a word, his hands drifted to the expanse of your shoulders, your arms, your clavicle.

His hands rest there, as your body relaxes in his embrace. The subtle, erratic beating of his heart is there, it's not a surprise when yours mirrored his. And you smell the hint of vanilla on his skin, forgetting that he's humanoid in these very small moments. Yet, you breathe into it, the smell lulling you to sleep faster.

“If you want to,” he mutters, “I thought you wanted to rest.”

“I do, but I feel comfortable when there's someone else.”

The quiet snap of the shampoo bottle opens. Along the way, he places his hands over your head, gently massaging the tips of your hair to make the shampoo bubble, to your scalp. Gentle, soft as he held you like this. The way he pours the water over your head, careful enough to not let it reach your eyes. You must smell like lavender now; the scent already sinking into your skin, like how Chrome's warmth was seeping onto your cold ones. His touch felt unreal, it makes you want the world to freeze for a moment and only behold this scenario for a long, long time.

“Commandant,” even his voice was a whisper, movements slowing to a stop, a telltale sign that he's done, and a little emotion was hanging on your chest - annoyance - “finish up washing now. Your hair is done.”

A dissatisfied grunt escaped your lips. Sitting up straight, you turned to him, hands outstretched. “Let me wash your hair too.”

Slightly looking down from your chest, his eyes shot up to meet yours, the blush that was on his cheeks already invading his ears. “N-No. This bath is only for you, Commandant.”

“Pleaseeee,” you dawdled, brushing away the bangs that covered his face, “I want to help you.”

Although hesitant, he lets you anyway; you, crawling to straddle his thighs, reaching out for the shampoo on your right. His eyes were carefully trailing your movement, which made you shrink under his grasp, but you never minded (after all, the both of you are naked in front of each other, what else was the difference?). You mimicked his movements: massaging the scalp, entirely focused on how you moved your hands on him.

“You're so pretty, Chrome...”

“Huh...?”

“I'm drunk but you're still pretty.” you giggled, booping his nose, “in the morning, when I'm sober, I know you'll be prettier.”

You thread your hands into his hair now, forgetting that bubbles should come out, but you're too focused on everything around you, drowsiness coming to catch you.

“Your hair,” you mumbled, aware of his hands placed on your waist, “...it feels really soft.”

“Does it?” He chuckled, eyes closing, “I'm glad you think so, Commandant.”

Commandant. A title you've always worn, but the way he called you that, a gnawing feeling crammed in your chest — with that pretty mouth of his, a stray thought made you think: what would it be like if he were to say your name?

“You never call me by my name.”

Turquoise irises locked with yours. Unable to pull away, mesmerized by the magnitude it beheld as you stared at each other — you wanted to speak, but Chrome beats you to it.

“I- I never thought I'm allowed to say it.” Looking away, the flush you've seen earlier came back and dusted his cheeks, “we never established it before.”

“Call me by my name then, Chrome.”

You wonder how your name would sound when it leaves his lips. You wonder, if the sound of your heartbeat reverberates if speaks, if he calls you in a name hidden behind your title — and for a moment, you've realized.

“[Y/N],” it is quiet, a soft tone calling for your name, “[Y/N],”

All you could do is close your eyes. Your mind is racing. The sound of two people, breathing in the silence, in the warmth of another's presence. The bubbles are now dissolving in your fingers and in his hair, you're certain the ones on your head are gone too. Were you still drunk, or had the intensity of your feelings reached its threshold? It made your mind spin, and your fingers tremble. What was going on?

“Did that sound weird?” You opened your eyes to find Chrome's worried gaze. Still realizing the situation you're both in - and yet you were both comfortable now - you opened your mouth, only to close it.

You realized you've always liked Chrome all this time.

And the way he said your name is far from what you've imagined. You breathe in once more at his appearance: disheveled hair coated in shampoo, flushed cheeks in contrast to his pale complexion, doe-eyed in the shade of the light. Of course, you had to fall for this man. And it made your heart ache - alcohol or the touches alone? Who knows.

“No.” You quietly spoke, looking away, hiding the blush on your cheeks, “I...want to get out now.”

Chrome doesn't say a word. Instead, he stood up and left you there - confused, in a daze. When he comes back, a pair of clothes were on his arms.

“Can you stand, co...I mean, [Y/N]?”

“Thank you for the clothes.”

You spoke by the time you re-entered his room, the oversized shirt hanging loosely on your body. You looked at your appearance in the mirror twice before leaving the room, where you'd deemed it was good enough, however; judging by the way Chrome was staring at you intensely, head to toe, you couldn't help but wonder - is something wrong?

Chrome must have changed the sheets first, the shade of blue occupying the space on the bed. He now stood behind a smaller stool, a hair dryer in hand. You awkwardly stood, gesturing to the sight behind you: “I promise I'll repay you back when I get back.”

“The shirt,” He looks away for a moment, before clearing his throat, “it looks...good on you.”

You looked down — the oversized white shirt with the print fading away reaching down your thighs, just above your knees. At least, you were wearing something to combat the cold, yet your back catches the wetness of your hair, which made your temperature drop further. Noticing this, Chrome motions you to sit on the stool.

You are compliant with his wishes. He starts to turn the hair dryer on, before carefully handling your hair. In front of you was a tall mirror, which must have been Chrome's height. As he gently starts to dry your hair, you take in your surroundings - it's your first time in Chrome's room. As they say, the bedroom reflects its owner; tidy, neat, and everything in place. Various books with small print on the spine you couldn't make out on the shelves, the Queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. A perfectly neat study table with a few papers here and there near the dresser of the bed. It brings you to shame, how cleanly Chrome sets up his room which is far different from yours.

It reflects; your senses in a daze as you feel Chrome weaving through your locks, attentive to how his turquoise irises are on his masterpiece. Your eyes look up at his face once more.

“You also look good with your hair down.”

His attention flickers back to you. It's true - he looks more human this way, hair framing his face. Blinking slowly, he sheepishly laughs. “Ah, I always have my hair down after a shower. Do I look weird?”

“No.” You admit, “you look handsome still.”

Another wave of silence washes over. You realize you're more sober this way, the guilt of not talking too much gnawing on the back of your throat. But you are thankful, Chrome takes the opportunity.

“You are wearing my shirt that the F.O.S. gave,” humming, he brushes away the hair on your back, heat radiating off on your back, “they gave it shortly after graduation. I took it before father could notice.”

The hair dryer shuts off. He places it on the dresser, eyes still on your now-dried hair. You asked, “does your father not want you wearing these things?”

“He thinks it's useless. After all, medals and honor are the only valuable things the college would give to you.”

“But I see that it seems well-used,” you smell the cologne Chrome uses every day, “like you've always worn it.”

His hand is on your shoulder, tracing the outline. “Shortly after my Construct surgery, I always wore this. Anywhere as long as my father wouldn't see.”

A thought where Chrome wears the shirt comes to mind, in bed, clutching the fabric. Holding a handful and raising it to your nose, you spoke, “is there a reason?”

But he only sighs. “I am a Construct.” He looks up to meet your eyes in the mirror, “I am made for war. I threw away my humanity a long time ago.”

Those words tugged a hidden emotion in you. Spinning to meet his figure, you craned your neck just so you can properly look at him. Words are bubbling in your mouth, but it comes out dry.

Yet, you try anyway. “It's true that you're made for war, but you shouldn't be denied of these...”

“It's alright, co...[Y/N].” The call of your name sends your heart into somersaults, “I've learned it the hard way. There is no need for me to feel that way anymore.”

“Besides,” he added, as he got on one knee, smiling, “it's time for you to take a nap. It's past 2 am now. I wouldn't want my Commandant to be sleep deprived, yes?”

“I-” you looked at Chrome, you don't pretend you didn't mishear his words. Looking at his irises, you took a deep breath.

“The first time I saw Chrome,” you began, “I always thought you were attractive.”

That caught his attention. Tilting his head with an eyebrow raised, he curiously asked, “I'm sorry?”

“I wondered why a human like me was roaming around the city ruins that day.” You fidgeted with the hem of your clothes, “But then, I saw your inver-device.”

Ah, this memory. Chrome remembers it fondly. In the heat of dispute, where Lee had been injured badly, he doesn't remember if it was the situation at hand or the way the sunlight shone down on you that day - either way, he always thought it was something for that moment.

“It didn't change one bit of my impression of you.” You take a deep breath, “I think...it became something else.”

Your heart beats chaotically. You're sure it's the alcohol, but you're also aware that it's your feelings shaping at this very moment. Your hands tremble with want - to hold Chrome, to hold his hand.

“Something else?”

“I don't see you as a Construct, Chrome,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his chin, eyes trailing where your finger touched, “I see you more than that.”

You're aware; his gaze on you, as his own fingers shake as they touched yours. Such feelings have echoed in your mind, and you are afraid they wouldn't go away unless you tell them upfront. Are you scared to be rejected? Too bad, you're not; let the alcohol drain all your fears tonight.

“I don't want you to keep calling me 'Commandant'. I don't like it when you see me as someone from F.O.S., but I like it when you touch me, or when you're close to me-”

His hand is holding yours now. Firm, gentle. He's in front of you, and you swore you could see the future reflect in his irises. It's warm, the way he grasped your hand, fingertips touching his lips. His eyes are closed - a single kiss on every finger, mouth muttering some kind of prayer.

“[Y/N],” he whispers on your fingers, gazing at you with an expression you've never seen him make before.

Loving. Adoration. Something along those lines. It claws on your stomach, inching up to the top, that if you opened your mouth you would regret.

“When I saw you at that time, I didn't know what to think. I remember thinking: would you only be another soldier I will see on the battlefield, regardless if dead or alive?”

“Am I the former?”

“A part of me thought so. But...”

He pauses, before taking your hand to his chest, a strong vibration echoing there. Your heart feels the same, it wishes to free itself from the cages of your ribcage and into whatever was in the middle of the both of you.

“If I were to lose you, I...wouldn't know what I'll do.”

Heaviness weaves in your chest. You wrap your arms around his neck for support, blissfully unaware of the distance left between your lips. “Chrome,”

“[Y/N], I cannot...”

“I like you, Chrome.” It is a genuine confession. You never lied. “I like you too much, that I feel like my heart can't handle it if you disappear on me, too.”

A confession that brought tears to your eyes. “I want to run away with Chrome. I don't want to be away from you.”

“I'm not going away.” He took you by the waist, propping you on his thighs, “I'm here.”

“Meeting you...being here with you...it feels enchanting.” You closed your eyes, blindingly touching wherever your hands meet, “Please don't be in love with someone else...”

Chrome feels like it's the first time for him to recognize the ability to love. The passion for studying, living in the moment where examinations take place, keeping everything orderly — it has always been how he always lived. Yet, for the first time — someone was here in his room, in his touch, in this space. It makes him greedy; it makes him wild.

“[Y/N],” his hands cup your cheek, nuzzling your cheek, “I feel the same way. I like you - I adore you. Every glory I will bring to you, it will be all for you.”

That confession triggered something inside of you - to bridge the gap between the both of you. Leaning forward, the urge to slam your lips to him right there and then grows fervently. However, a hand stops your advances. Pulling back, you are met with a blushing Chrome, looking at you in awe.

“Comman- I mean, [Y/N], as much as I want to kiss you...I cannot. I can't kiss you when you are still drunk.”

“But I want to, let me show you how much I like you.”

His hand easily slips under your shirt, warm ones grasping your hips, rubbing circles around it, “In the morning. When you are sober, when you are about to make better judgement. I will let you do whatever you want.”

A mischievous smile graced your lips. “Anything?”

The blush on his face became a darker shade. Shyly nodding, “Yes, anything.”

He eases into his arms. Lifting you up and carrying you to bed, a thought crosses your mind — you, in a long white gown, and him, in a silver tuxedo. You see him in the lights of the room, illuminated in this dark evening, his smile sending ripples of your heart into motion. You see him this way, your hand carrying a bouquet of flowers that you both love, your fingers intertwined with a ring of promise. In your thoughts he carries you like this, and you swore it felt familiar; one day, you wish. You would have to tell him in the morning.

But for now, the alcohol hits you harder more than ever, drowsiness threatening to shut your eyes. As you felt yourself dip into the mattress - his bed - you wish you could stay with him, the lingering warmth on your skin now fading as you feel him pull away. But your mouth is a jumbled mess, only opting for the fatigue to succumb to you. So, you use your hand, grasping whatever you could reach - his shirt, his hand, his arm.

“Don't go.” You beg, voice laced with grogginess and want, “won't you stay here?”

“I will be sitting here next to you. Don't worry, I'm not going away.”

“No,” your voice sounds like you're pleading now, “don't go, stay beside me. I want you to be beside me when I wake up.”

“[Y/N]...”

“Stay with me, Chrome.”

With a sigh, you feel the space beside you dip. The shuffling of sheets, the smell of lavender invading your weary senses. At last, warm hands enclose yours, before placing them close to his lips, one last kiss before darkness consumed your senses.

“Goodnight, [Y/N],” you knew he'd tell you that, “I will see you in the morning.”

Chrome doesn't see you in the morning.

When sunlight slipped through the windows, he woke up to an empty space beside him. Disappointment comes knocking on his door, calling out that he was only dreaming for something unreal, something that only humans would indulge in. Although the sheets prove that someone else was here with him last night, he doesn't dwell on that slipping hope. Instead, disappointment and frustration, paired with despondency, makes a home inside his chest and his M.I.N.D.

No longer interested in ruminating on the mattress, he drags himself out of bed. However, the robots that usually greet him aren't around still. But the floors and the walls on the rooms he passed are cleaner than what he saw last night.

Probably elsewhere. Probably at the garden.

But the glass door to the garden shows no signs of robots, at least where his sight can reach. No robots cutting grass or cleaning the pool. At times like these, they should've been around. Where were they?

A sound of an R5 cleaning robot chimes in nearby. Chrome follows the sound, and the sight isn't something he was expecting.

“You did well,” your voice feels like a cloud, floating amongst the sea of beeping robots, “thank you for your help.”

Your back faces Chrome. Crouching in front of a faceless R5 cleaning robot, you gently patted its "head", small giggles on your lips.

“You're a good robot, aren't you,” the sound of beeping seemingly mirroring an appreciative noise, “you're a very good robot.”

A sizzle comes out of the oven, to which you jump to your feet, scrambling to reach the stove. “Ah, it's getting burned!”

Chrome couldn't help but admire you; the way you move, your interactions with the robots although lifeless, and your cautiousness seemed to boost his adoration for you. It must have been his M.I.N.D., but the sunlight on your toes, his shirt that fits you perfectly despite being too big for you, and the smile as you tasted whatever you were cooking — it hits him harder. The want, the like, the adoration for someone he could never think he'd fall for. The feeling that his chest had earlier disappeared; only warmth began to repair its fractured roots.

“Chrome?” Your quiet voice called out, the beep of the robot chiming in, “you're awake.”

“And you're here.”

Is this what pining feels like? An unspoken feeling that settles deep between the distances of the two of you. He knows he shouldn't hope, when a night drowned in alcohol remembers nothing. Yet, the way your eyes seem to tell him something, he hopes to cling onto whatever was left in his pride.

“Good morning,” he spoke, aware of his morning voice now, “I apologize that you had to be the one to cook.”

“N-no, it's alright! The robots mostly did the work. I merely supported them.”

“Still,” he slowly approached you, timid footsteps leading to you, “the fact that you treat them as if they're human too speaks a lot.”

“It's even a surprise that they show no hostility to you. They are trained to fend off those who are unfamiliar in the household.”

“Commandant [Y/N] is welcomed.” the robot from earlier chirped, “helped us with housework.”

“Mr. Smith also invited me here once in a while to talk about politics.” You shrugged, opting to pat the robot once more, “I just did a favor for them.”

You nodded to it, to which it purrs in your touch. Satisfied, it happily trots away, probably deciding to work elsewhere.

Another silence. You've decided to go back and finish cooking the food, but the fire had long been doused (probably from the advancement of this stove?). Chrome wants to talk, yet no words could be formulated in his head. After the agonizing long silence, you took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.

“I remember what happened last night.”

Chrome freezes. He looks up to meet your guilty eyes looking elsewhere. “You do?”

“I...am regretful that I puked on you. That's why I decided to clean up here as an exchange.”

Ah, so you don't remember what happened afterwards. Chrome's heart sinks, before noticing you looking away, and a creeping blush on your cheeks.

“I...also remember that I asked you to take a bath with me.”

Memories of last night came crashing over his M.I.N.D. The garden, the bed, the bathtub, the hair dryer, and your skin — all a mixture of things that only makes him go haywire. His blush mirrors yours; that means one more thing.

“I also remember telling you how I feel.” You began, “and I...”

The sinker comes. And Chrome's heartbeat isn't sure now. But you - you approached him, eyes down, figure covered, but reaching out to him. With shallow breaths, you raised your hand to his chest, before looking up. And there - your eyes meet his. Same innocent, shimmering eyes looking at him with vigor, with enchantment; he forgets how to breathe.

“I like you, Chrome.”

You've said it once more. Sober, genuine, and true. And it breaks Chrome's heart into pieces, folded and mashed into dough, before it forms in the shape of a heart. You've set the oven now; his feelings are ready to be baked, ready to be eaten - and he wants you. No, he needs you to be the one to take it.

“I still like you, even when I'm drunk or sober. I want to be with you all the time. I want you, Chrome. I want you to be part of the future that I am building.”

Wordlessly, he captures your hips and pulls you close, him leaning down just so the proximity knows no bounds. He feels your breath ghost his lips, your heartbeat in his ribcage - it beats, and beats, and beats so loudly he forgets you're in the kitchen at daylight; in a house he's grown up with no love, but he's here now. Creating a love that no Smith can forge.

“A concrete object made of materials and information, whose borders are continuously constructed and reconstructed,” said the definition for 'Smith'. He could live in that definition forever, but what about Chrome?

“I am forging a new one.” He whispers, “I am...bridging the new future with you.”

Your eyes are shining, and there he knew-

“I like you, too, [Y/N].”

If only bodies were capable of seeing what's happening underneath, a cadenza ringing in Chrome's heart, beating furiously for you, only you. You smiled, a mischievous gaze written across your face.

“Does the offer about me doing anything I want when I'm sober still stand?”

He smiles back. “Of course.”

“I want to kiss you.”

Tiptoeing to reach Chrome's height, you craned your neck and tugged his shoulder. But Chrome is kind; he hoists you up by the hips, capturing your lips in an instant.

Sweet is a word to describe the first kiss Chrome shared with someone in his life. Forget the war, forget that you're on the kitchen island; it's only two lovers baring their adoration for one another, sharing a kiss blessed in daylight. It's warm, it's soft, it's needy - the way you both melt into each other, how you wrapped your arms around his neck, or how his hands are holding you up. Enchanted, Chrome's M.I.N.D. echoes, it's really enchanting.

Satiated, you both pull away, breathless, as your foreheads touch. He doesn't let you go, though. You (unfortunately) do, when the other kitchen door opens, a parade of little robots bursting through the door.

You cheer as the little robots go through the surprise: a small banner written "Happy Birthday!" hastily, and the cake you baked earlier with the robots. Chrome looks at you confused, before noticing what the parade had brought.

“How-”

“Happy birthday, Chrome,” You beamed, hands cupping his cheeks, “you deserve the celebration.”

“Thank you.” He whispers on your chin, leaving little kisses there, “I really appreciate this...I appreciate you.”

“You should enjoy today.” You winked, “my birthday present to you is for later.”

“Later?”

You squeezed his arm. He blushes. “Yes, later.”

Chrome is thankful his heart doesn't need to somersault out of his chest now. At least, until later.

HAPPY LATE ACTIVATION DAY CHROME!!!!!! please like, reblog, share, comment down on this post! don't copy and plagiarize my work!!

#pgr #pgr commandant #punishing gray raven #punishing gray raven imagines #pgr global #pgr cn #pgr chrome #pgr chrome glory #pgr chrome x reader #pgr arclight #HAPPY ACTIVATION DAY CHROME!!! #pgr x reader

[psychangels]

Omggg, I loved your Macaron/Chai fic!!! If it’s okay, could do another? I wanted kisses (💕 ) for this idea, and this would be super fluffy with Macaron and Chai having their first kiss together!!!

I love this idea because as much as Chai acts all confident, he’d be super flustered about their first kiss. Like they’d be together, and there’s this tender moment where it’s a perfect kiss moment, and Chai kinda messes it up by kissing Macaron too fast, and he’s instantly leaning away like “WOWWHATLOVELYWEATHER!” But they’re inside, so mentioning the weather doesn’t even make sense lol. His face is rapidly turning red, and it’s spreading to his ears and everything. Macaron is also flustered, but amused by the boy’s reaction. Then the man would say that that wasn’t a kiss at all! He barely felt it! After a bit of convincing, they have a proper kiss, a little longer this time, and Macaron would hold Chai close. Chai’s so red by the end of the kiss, but he’s so starry eyed from it. Then Macaron proceeds to just bombard the younger male’s face with kisses because Chai looks too cute to stop after one kiss. This makes Chai squirm and laugh, telling Macaron to stop, and of course the man’s teasing Chai, continuing to kiss him. They’re both close together and laughing by the end of it.

This can all be changed if you want, as long as you get the main part of them kissing for the first time and all the fluffy goodness.

These two are just so cute and fluffy togetherrrr!!! I’m glad you’re making some content for them, and I love what you do for the hfr fandom!

ty! and i'm always happy to write abt these two!! :]

"Hey, Mac!" Chai calls as he walks into his office. "Oh—hi, Chai! What're you doing down here?" "Just stoppin' by to see my favorite guy." Macaron chuckles. "How sweet of you!"

Walking over to his desk, Chai hops onto it. He leans forward. His legs start swinging back and forth with the beat.

"So...whatcha been up to?"

"I've been working on hiring some human programmers, alongside some updates for the PGR-0101s! And, of course, I'm still trying to get CNMN repaired. I wish I could make that my main priority, but there's so many other things to get..."

Chai watches as Macaron crosses his arms. The way his brow furrows, and the corners of his mouth turn down. But then, back up again, laugh lines becoming more pronounced, and his dimple becoming visible as he starts talking about how understanding CNMN is. His eyes crinkle a little. They almost seem to sparkle with joy. But maybe that's just the light reflecting off of his glasses.

He can't help but watch the way Macaron's mouth moves as he talks. Everything, down to the slightest twitch, is perfectly in time.

Chai's tongue darts out of his mouth to wet his own lips. His face feels a bit warm.

"...been up to. What about you?" I wanna kiss you. "Chai?" "I wanna kiss you." Macaron's eyes widen.

Chai jolts as he realizes he said that out loud the second time. He almost can't believe he did. His face gets even warmer. When a grin starts to spread across Macaron's face, the warmth spreads into his ears.

"I, uh..." "You've been wanting to kiss me lately...?"

"No! I mean—yeah—though, I wouldn't really say lately, 'cause I've sorta wanted to since way before I asked you out—"

"Oh. Really?" Macaron asks, brows raising. Chai's gaze flicks away as he tugs on his scarf. "...Yeah." "Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

As he asks, he scoots his chair closer to Chai.

"Iunno. I mean—kinda weird to just...say it, isn't it? But...um...since we're talking about it..."

He looks up at Macaron coyly. He moves to the edge of the desk. Reaching for him, Chai gently grabs the front of his jacket and tugs.

Macaron chuckles. Moving closer, he leans forward, into his space. His grin becomes a bit more sheepish as he starts to blush, too.

A single beat passes.

Chai leans in and kisses him. The music swells.

But before another full beat can even pass, he pulls away. His face and ears are almost as red as his scarf. The song diminuendos.

Macaron blinks, brow furrowed. He's still smiling and blushing, though. After a moment, he chuckles and shakes his head.

"You've been wanting to kiss me all this time, and that's it?" "I—uh—" Chai fiddles with his scarf. "...I guess?" "Where's my confident, devil-may-care rockstar?" "Wh-What are you talkin' about? I'm right here!" "You didn't even kiss me for a full second." "Well—I—" "I didn't even get the chance to kiss you."

Macaron leans even closer. He sets his hands on either side of Chai. His smile is more coy now, but there's still a genuine sheepishness to it.

The tempo quickens. Chai starts drumming his fingers against Macaron's chest. His eyes slowly wander until they meet Macaron's.

They lean in at the same time. The music swells again.

Macaron places one of his hands on Chai's back, and the other against his side. In turn, Chai's drumming fingers curl, grabbing at Macaron's jacket again.

When they both pull away, Chai's eyes are wide and sparkling. Somehow, his face and ears are even redder than before.

Macaron grins. He leans in and kisses him again, but this time on the cheek. Then the other. From there, the kisses just don't stop coming. Chai's quickly snapped out of his state of awe by it, as he snorts.

The next time Macaron goes to kiss him, Chai tilts his head to get in another one on the lips. This catches Macaron off-guard, effectively ending his onslaught of them.

As Chai pulls away, he smirks. "Just can't get enough of me, huh?" Macaron blinks, then laughs. "There he is."

#hi fi rush #macaron hi fi rush #chai hi fi rush #macaronai #angelwrites.txt #angelanswers.txt #changed it juuust a lil bit