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kevcanwait · 30 days

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heheh Part two to my Jisung fic. OOH! I can also make fics of how Mn got into sleeping with the others if that interests you along with fics about...things that are hinted at in this fic.

Blog Tags: @binnies-binna <3 :) @heartbinn

Tags: No power specified but sub!chan/Dom!reader if you squint towards the end. Reader calls Chan Hyung/Hyungie/slut/cunt 🫢 cum swap, choking, blowjob/handjob(Mn receives), I seriously went on a tangent at the end so Chan is a bit 🤔 innocently provocative i guess idk, unprotected, fingering(Chan receives)

Still wearing a small grin while shaking your head, you look over to Jisung who was completely passed out. You sigh and walk back to the bed, picking up his boxers on your way, before throwing the sheet off him, dressing him then picking him up to lay him on the floor with a pillow temporarily while you rush to strip the bed and put fresh sheets on before picking the boy back up and putting him back on the bed.

You dress him in your hoodie from the floor after removing the flannel and tuck him under his blankets. With a kiss on his forehead, smiling when you hear him hum in his sleep with a smile before walking out, in just your underwear mind you, before walking down two doors. You didn't know if the other was still awake but you faked a cough in front of his door before going to your room to get a pair of sweats. You had a suspicion that they wouldn't last long on your body but you were cold and back in Jisung's room you didn't want to put jeans back on.

After getting the article of clothing, you walk back to Chan's door. You can barely see the purple lights under the door but no noise. Reaching for the knob, you turn it as smoothly and quietly as you could before being able to push it open to step inside. After closing it, you look at his desk, computer still open but asleep with a black screen, then you look to his bed. He's laying on his stomach, cuddling his pillow and his blanket was askew like he was covered laying on his back before rolling onto his front. You almost didn't want to disturb him, knowing how much all of you try to get Chan to sleep more, but the picture he sent lingered in your mind. It was so lewd and brave of Chan to send it to you, you didn't think he could do something like sending a post-nut picture to a friend.

On second thought...friend? I mean, y'all are friends but all of you know that you guys are sleeping with, at least, one other member. You and Jisung, Felix and Hyunjin, you almost coughed up a lung the day you found out about Minho and Seungmin that one day after practice. Though, you didn't blame Minho, Seungmin's sass that day almost had you wanting to fuck the brat out of him.

You were so zoned out you didn't even notice that Chan was now awake. In fact he now stood in front of you. When did he get out of bed?

"Mn?" His quiet voice brings you back to reality and your eyes meet his. "Hi, sorry." "Did you come in here for a reason or just to watch me sleep?" He smiled sleepily, his messy hair and droopy eyes just made you want to hold him close and cradle him. He looks so exhausted. "I had a reason but you look so sleepy." "I'm fine, what did you need?" He yawned into the back of his hand before he closed his eyes for a moment then leaned onto your shoulder. "Are you fine, Chan?" "Mmm, stay thinks so." "That's not what I meant and you know that." "Just tired is all." "Then I can come back another night." "Another night?"

He pulled his head off your shoulder to look up at you. You managed to beat Hyunjin's height, making you the tallest in the group by a couple inches and it makes you laugh when they all have to look up at you by just the smallest amount. "What was your reason?" He asks skeptically. "Well, in your photo, it seemed as though you still had a problem so I wanted to help." Your hands plant themselves on his waist gently as you rub your thumb along the soft material of his hoodie.

"Okay." "Okay?" "Yeah...but I don't want to do anything." "Tired?" He nods his head, your hands hold his waist tighter and its like that touch had him weak as he practically went limp in your hold. His arms move to wrap around your neck as yours wrap around his middle, raising his hoodie in the process to slip your hands underneath.

You were going to go further but the way he tightened his hold and buried his face in your neck, the furthest you went in the moment was wrapping your arms around him completely and squeezing, burying your face in his neck in return. After a couple seconds, you lift your head to rest your chin on his shoulder. "You sure you're up for it? Looks like you would rather cuddle." A whine is muffled into your neck but you hear a faint giggle as well. With a playful huff, you remove your arms from around him, bend your knees slightly, then grip his thighs to lift him up effortlessly causing him to gasp at the sudden action as you move to sit on his bed.

When settled, he shifted in your lap before pulling away from your neck, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he looks down. "You're hard?" "Um, yeah, we don't have to do anything though. We can just cuddle, it'll go away." He shook his head as if he couldn't let that happen, pulling away from you to move off your lap. "Hyung, you don't have to. Aren't you tired?" "I am but doesn't a lazy blow job sound good? You wanted to help take care of your Hyung but now let your Hyung take care of you." A pathetic whine rests at the back of your throat that you couldn't stop in time. He looked so soft and cozy while speaking such filth and your brain couldn't catch up as you instinctively scoot down the bed a little bit when Chan pulled your sweats down just enough.

He felt flushed suddenly as he sat back up and pressed his lips to yours, you gasped into the kiss as he wrapped his hand around you at the same time. You tilt your head with his as he climbs back onto your lap and slowly jerked you off. You hum against his lips before opening your own when he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip. You couldn't help yourself when you giggled and pulled back. "Thought you were giving me a blow job? Got shy?" "Shut up." You laugh again at his shy smile and kiss him again.

He picks up the speed of his hand, he wants to pull away and watch his handy work but kissing you was addicting and he didn't even want to pull back when his lungs burned but he did, moving to kiss along your neck.

To be honest, he knew the others starting messing around and he's kinda glad he sent you that photo.

You're also a lucky S.O.B as your the first member Chan sleeps with.

He kissed all over your neck and left marks, you were so lost in your hyung's soft lips and touch that you didn't think about it, didn't think about the fact that you guys have a fan meet the next day.

Suddenly he stops and you can't stop the whine that escapes. "Hyung, come on." You watch as he stands up and removes his sweats and your disappointment disappears. "Oh." "Don't miss the blow job now, do ya?" "U-Um, I- No, Not at all."

Chan went to sit on your lap but stopped. "I don't..." He hesitated, straddling your thighs as he glanced between his hands and your eyes. "It's okay. We don't have to go full out." "No, that's not the problem. I just...don't have lube...or anything." "Oh." "I think I'll be fine." "No, hold on, it's your first time." "Mn-" "Hyung, it'll hurt. Trust me, I was stupid and didn't use anything my first time and it hurt. Let me go get something." "Okay."

He got off you and you stood up, pulling your pants up before walking out of his room, quickly dashing to Jisung's room to grab the bottle only to remember that you finished that with him so you leave the room and make your way to Hyunjin's room, amused to see Felix in his bed before you went to the bedside table only to see the bottle on top of it. "You fucking kidding me?" You mutter exhaustedly to yourself when you see the empty bottle laying on its side before leaving and trying Minho. How the fuck can you not find any lube?

You almost bump into Minho somehow and he stumbles back. "What are you in a rush for? Shouldn't you be sleeping for tomorrow?" "I'm trying to do something with Chan. Do you have lube?" Minho's eyes widen before sighing. "Bottom drawer." He said as he pointed to his nightstand and left to go to the bathroom. "Thank you Min." You whispered gratefully but before you went in and he walked away completely, he pulled you back by your arm and reached up to kiss you. "You empty it, you owe me." "Was gonna by more anyway since Hyun and Ji are out." "That's not the only thing you owe." "You can ask for that anytime." You kiss him again, biting his bottom lip before pulling back and walk into his room.

Finally you walk back to Chan's room and surprisingly find him lying in his bed politely, his knees are pulled up and his hoodie pulled down as he fidgets with the strings of his hoodie. "Have I ever said that you're adorable, Hyung?" Your voice makes him jump as he watches you walk back to the bed, discard your sweats, and sit in front of him, hands rested on his knees. "Um, not that I can recall." "Well you are."

With a gentle movement, your thumb moves back and forth on his knee. "Had to get this from Minho and he has a point. You sure you want to do this? We have that thing tomorrow." "I'm sure." With a gentle smile, you carefully push his knees apart and lean forward to kiss him.

Chan's hands cradle your face, his sweater paws making him impossibly cuter. His hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as you tilt your head and slip your tongue between his lips. You try to pull back when your lungs burn but he pulls you right back. You pull back again but quickly move to his neck to stop him, your voice right next to his ear as a lighthearted giggle leaves you and you kiss behind his ear. "Mn..." He whines, laugh coming out of you this time. "I'm just trying to tell you that I'm gonna stretch you now. Thought you'd like a warning." "Oh."

You kiss all over his neck, you go to bite his neck under his ear, the same tactic you used on Jisung to distract him but he stopped you when your teeth grazed his skin. You groan, nipping at the place you were gonna bite before moving further down, pulling the collar of his hoodie down with your chin to bite the top of his pec as you finally slide a finger in.

Eventually you get two, then three fingers in him. He's whining, softly moaning against your shoulder as he holds onto you tightly. You adore that he's clingy, it is really adorable. "Mn..." "Yeah?" "C-Can you..." he trails off with a whine and you smile. "Can I what?" You push yourself up to look at his face, flushed red with plush, bitten lips and his eyes glassy. "...put it in...please?" How could you deny your precious hyung when he asks so nicely.

You remove your fingers, placing your hands on his thighs and guiding them to go around your waist before you brace yourself on your left hand. "Relax, Hyung, okay?" He nods, reaching up to cradle your face again to gently pull your gaze back to his when you looked down to watch what you were doing. "Hyung, hey, it's okay. What's wrong?" He started panicking slightly when you saw him crying, your free hand reaching up to cup the side of his face and graze your thumb over his cheek. He leans up, pressing his lips to yours suddenly and it wasn't messy as before, it was gentle yet firm, it almost made you dizzy with the amount of passion that was also given.

Chan pulled back, his eyes moving rapidly, almost gauging your reaction. "How..." He started before shaking his head. "Nevermind." "No, it's okay." Despite the soft moment, Chan still tried to go on. "It's nothing. Can you..." "Will you tell me if I put it in?" He thinks before hesitantly nodding his head. "Will you?" "Yes."

Giving him a quick kiss, you look back down, lining yourself up before pushing in. Once in place, you look back up, kissing along his neck and distracting him as you slowly push all the way in. Chan's left hand went from your neck to cover his mouth with the back of his hand, covering it but also letting some noises out. His moans and whimpers were noises you thought you'd never hear from him. "You sound so good, Hyung. So many others would love your noises too." You chuckled next to his ear. "Now, I won't move until you tell me what you were gonna say."

He hesitated, eyes closed adjusting to your size and the new feeling before opening his eyes again. "How..." "You can do it, come on." You kiss the corner of his mouth. "It's okay, Hyung. Whatever you say I won't judge, you know that." You mutter as you kiss along his jaw. "Who were the firsts?" You pull back, looking at Chan. "Me and Hyunjin." "After that, wh-when more of you started..." You smile gently. "Fucking?" "Uh, yeah...How did none of you not...catch feelings?" You smile fully, planting a big kiss on his lips as you reward him for asking his questions by pulling back and thrusting back in, drawing a moan out of him. "Who said we didn't?" You smirked in return as you slowly picked up speed.

Your thrusts got harder overtime and Chan's noises eventually got muffled by your lips, your tongue claiming his mouth as you swallow his noises. You're both lost in the pleasure --with you hitting that one good spot in Chan repeatedly and Chan's tightness surrounding you-- that neither of you truly process the fact that you started leaving marks along his neck. He thinks that you licking and sucking his neck is the best feeling, he also realizes how sensitive he is.

Since starting, you finally moved his hoodie, sliding your hand underneath. Chan's breath hitched, you've touched his abs before but not in this setting, your nails gently dragged over the skin, over the toned muscles of his body before your hand moves to his hip and squeezed then moved to squeeze his thigh. Your touch was gentle and it made him dizzy at the same time. "M-Maybe I should've- Oh shit~" He moans and arches up into you when your nails grazed his pelvic area, super sensitive and has him trying to move back into you.

He whines when you pull out before letting out a gasp of surprise when you got off him then pulled him onto your lap with ease. "I-I guess being Changbin's gym twin is true." That gets a laugh out of you as you grip his thighs, pulling him further up before moving your hand to his hip and one guiding yourself back into his tight hole then pulling him down to sit on your lap completely, fucking into him deeply with one thrust, hitting his prostate dead on. "Shit~" He moans, weakly draping his arms over your shoulders and leaning onto your shoulder. "So tight, Hyungie. You feel so fucking good." Whining, he begins moving on your lap, rocking his hips back and forth, getting use to the new position before he readjusts his legs straddling you to start gently riding you.

The new position seemed to have you reach deeper inside him, still hitting all the right spots and with how close he's sitting to you, his leaking tip making a mess of your toned stomach but the feeling of your bare skin on his dick felt good. Your hands move to his ass, squeezing before moving to his waist above his hips, an almost bruising grip on his sides has he helps him bounce.

One of your hands move to wrap around Chan, pumping him quickly then switching to slow strokes, rubbing your thumb over his tip then stroking him once with a tight fist before letting go when you reach the tip. "Fuck~ Y-You are- Shit, ah~" He couldn't even get a full sentence out. "So good~" He settles with and you chuckle. "Have I really fucked you dumb? I've barely done anything." You stop his bouncing, wrapping your arms around him as you sit up from leaning on his headboard before thrusting into him again, thrusting up into him at a fast pace. The moan he lets out is the first one he's let out freely, "Fuck~ G-Gonna- ah~" You thrusted deeper and faster, abusing the sensitive spot inside of him repeatedly and his dick rubbing on your abs, his pre-cum making the contact sticky and slick and with a particularly hard thrust and you sucking a mark under his ear, his cum stains your stomach and chest.

He moans freely next to your ear, you pull him flush against your lap as his cum gets on his hoodie as well. He rocks his hips back and forth, riding through his high as he revels in the pleasure and marks up your neck like you did his. His lips were so plush and soft against your neck, hot with every press, bite, lick, and suck. He was addicted to marking you as you were to him, the consequences of doing such is a problem for tomorrow.

He pants, his rocking slowing down as he moves to kiss you gently before pushing himself up and off your lap, a groan builds from your throat at the loss before Chan gently pulls you to the edge of the bed and gets on his knees. You see his intentions and lean back to get a pillow and put it in front of him. You'll have consequences for the hickeys, don't need any for Chan's knees being in pain and bruised.

When he got comfortable, he took your cock into his hand, it was oddly cold and it had you gasping out a curse as you spread your legs slightly to give him more room. He starts at a fast pace as he pushes himself up slightly. "Oh shit." You moan as you lean back onto your elbows as he cleans up his mess, licking all over your abs and licking up his own cum. When he got the majority of it, he sat back and showed you his spunk on his tongue. "Shit, you are so dirty, Hyung." Then you chuckle when you see a small flash in his eyes, taking him by surprise by grabbing his neck and squeezing slightly, eliciting a surprised gasp and small moan from him. Seeing your hyung like this, at your fingertips, drove you crazy. Yes, you had Minho in the same spot somehow but he was bratty while Chan obeyed you.

You lean down as Chan's strokes slow down to give him an open mouth kiss, tangling your tongue with his and mixing his cum with your spits, he moans at the whole action as you pull back, smirking when Chan keeps the mixture on his tongue. "Swallow, Channie-Hyung." He closes his mouth, swallowing all of it before opening his mouth again to show you. "You...are such a slut, Hyung, fuck." You grin as you kiss him again. "How would you feel about being called a good slut, huh? Cause you are." He moans as his hand almost subconsciously moves again to stroke you. "I wanna know what else that mouth does."

With that, you let go of his neck and lean back again as he moves forward and presses his lips to your tip. You thought his lips were soft on your neck but it's almost like they're softer as they trail down your shaft and back up to the tip before wrapping them around the tip. His tongue then swirls around the head, dipping into the slit, then taking you to the back of his throat. His reflex kicks in and that's when it hit you, how is he so fucking good for it being his first time?

Your dick was the first he's taken and his desire may have clouded reality but he still keeps going, focusing on the vein on his tongue as he tried to relax. You notice his attempt, combing your fingers through his fluffy hair in appreciation. You were about to tell him to breath through his nose if he wants to go further but he beat you to it, relaxing his throat and breathing through his nose before he went down on the rest of your length. "Shit~" Moaning, you grip his hair, drawing a moan from Chan who pulls back with a gasp. "Are- Shit, you sure I'm your first?" You ask, genuinely shocked that he could do that. "Yeah." He blushes, suddenly really shy when he realizes what he did. "Fuck, you're really good. So good." "I'm good?" He asks softly, contradicting his actions as he places your tip on his tongue, moving his hand away so its weight rests on it.

"You-" A laugh escapes as he smiles, mouth still open as he rests more of your length on his tongue. "You fucking cunt, you can't ask me that so innocently while you look like this." He chuckles before wrapping his lips around you again. "You're so good. Such a good cocksucker. Or do you want to be called a good boy? Is hyung a good boy?" He moans, looking up at you as he takes all of you down his throat again, hallowing his cheeks and swiping his tongue everywhere he could reach as he bobs his head. You were long enough that his throat constantly tightened around your tip whenever he swallowed the pooling amount of saliva, occasionally forgetting to cause the weight and feeling of your cock in his mouth was addicting which caused some spit to cover his chin and drip down your length.

"Fuck, Hyung, please don't stop. Gonna- Fuck, Gonna cum." He stops at your base, deep throating as he swallows around you. The feeling of his throat, his tongue, and just the main thought that your hyung is on his knees, swallowing your dick, had the coil inside you snapping quickly. He lifted his head, keeping the tip in his mouth as he took your load almost happily, moaning as it also shot to the back of his throat. "Oh, shit, hng~" You whine as you brush your hand through his hair, panting as you try to catch your breath.

Chan pulls off you, showing you your cum on his tongue. "Swallow." He whines, looking up at you desperately. "Oh my god." You shake your head, hand moving from his hair to his throat as you pull him up and kiss him, biting his tongue and bottom lip before pulling back, watching him swallow your load this time and then show you it's gone. "God...If he wasn't with Hyunjin earlier, Felix would've loved you." "Felix!?" He asked shocked, eyes widened as he stares up at you. "Yeah." You smirk, reaching down to take his hand in yours and pull him into the bed before you notice more cum on his hoodie.

"Did you cum again?" He looks down shyly as you pulled the soiled clothing off him and threw it on the floor. "Yeah..." "How can you be so shy and adorable but sexy as hell at the same time?" "I don't know what you mean." He plays innocent as you pull him onto your lap. "Oh really? Were you not just on your knees, grinning cock drunk with my tip on your tongue?" "You can't- Fucking cunt." You laugh as he buries his burning face in your neck and wraps his arms around your neck. You slide down the bed, getting under his blankets with him and laying on your sides. Chan curled up into you, your right arm around his shoulders and left around his waist as his hands are between your bodies.

Before you passed out, Chan taps your chest, you hum in return, eyes closed. "Can we spoon?" "Yeah." You mumble and are shocked to suddenly have his hand back on you. "Are you wanting to cock warm?" He nods as he flips to his other side, whimpering when you do enter before relaxing, your arms wrap around him, his hands resting on yours around him tightly when you pulled him further into you.

You'll regret the consequences for the hickeys later, the only thing you regret is not asking if he wanted to do something sooner.

Hours later, surprisingly seven hours later, you slowly wake up, long been slipped out of Chan who now lays on your chest, arms wrapped around your middle and yours wrapped around his shoulders and the other resting on your stomach.

You're trying to gauge what woke you up. Bathroom? Weird dream? Full nights rest?

With a grunt, you stretch lazily and attempt to open your eyes. They eventually flutter open and the first thing you see is Chan's door cracked open. A bit confused, you shrug it off, going to turn on your side to cuddle Chan when you process the weight on your lap.

If Chan is in your arms, then who-

Your eyes flutter open again to find the answer to the opened door.

"Holy shit." You mutter quietly, letting out a stuttery, soft moan when you finally feel a suffocating tightness around your length, thick thighs encasing yours and your body suddenly going warm as your eyes meet another set of boba eyes and a flushed face.

His hands slide from your pelvis up to your chest as he leans down slightly and you're still shocked speechless.

"Morning, Mn."

"Shit...Changbin-Hyung..."

Oh my god, and I thought Jisung's cliff hanger was good, shit.

Obviously...I'm gonna do the next part.

Kinda digging myself a hole but I have an equal balance of what I'm writing, let's hope I can keep it balanced but if not, I'm gonna have to take a slight break from either Day in a life, drafts build up, cliffhanger continues, or posting in general.

I have adhd and I tend to have too many ideas and then I kind of overwhelm myself but ignore it and carry on.

If I can't carry on at some point, I hope y'all won't mind me taking a pause.

Besides that, Chan's part is done!! 🥳 Hope the wait was worth it. 😅

#random #stray kids #straykids #bang chan #stray kids x male reader #bang chan x male reader #bttm bang chan #top male reader #hyunjin #lee felix #lee know #changbin #jeongin #seungmin

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c-h-e-r-r-i-e-s · 6 months

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Bottle service

Alrightly so I’ve been working on a lil something after Nanami last week and the Choso ab reveal this week. So here it is.

Coworker!Choso x reader x coworker!Nanami please let me know if you like it!

NSFW below

You walk up to the bar and set your tray down at the pick up area.

“Ugh the guys at table 5 want bottle service but jeez they’re sooo.. icky” you complain over the bar to Choso. You’d just learned everyone’s names at the club, it only took you 3 weeks. But being a bottle girl meant that you had to work closer with the guys behind the bar and tonight it was Choso and Nanami, the first names you’d learned at your new job. Both of whom are hulking, pretty, and absolutely precious.

“Want me to beat them up for you? I think I can be scary enough” Choso teases, well half teasing, half serious. He leans against the bar on one elbow as he’s opening a few beers and filling your tray with shots.

“Thanks but I need to handle them myself. If anyone touches me I’ll let you know” you smile at him with a feisty smirk. You’re no stranger to handsy men so this should be easy enough to handle. “But definitely keep an eye on them.” You note to the man behind the bar. Nanami walks up and nods at the table you’re serving.

“They giving you trouble?” He’s looking at them with a scowl.

“Yes but Choso here has his instructions” you wink at the men before walking away with the now full tray.

——————

At the end of the night as you sit at the bar figuring out your tips, both of the bar tenders are cleaning up their spaces.

“Woo I did alright tonight” you flash a few 50s and Nanami smirks at you.

“I’m just glad that table left you alone.” He states calmly.

“Were you going to fight for my honor?” You feign a damsel in distress act throwing the back of your hand against your forehead. He chuckles and nods politely.

“Well in that case, do you guys want to come over and hang out at my place? I have beers and snacks. We can vent about this place too.” You offer in mostly an innocent attempt to get on both of their good sides.

“Actually we room together So you can come to our place if you want. It’ll be easier for us.” Choso pipes in.

“Aww but I was trying to treat you for coming to my defense!” You protest.

“Not necessary. It’s part of our job” Nanami states.

“Okay well I can at least provide snacks. Send me your address and I’ll meet you both there after a quick shower?”

They both nod and Choso sends you the address.

—————

You’re knocking on their apartment door. Nanami opens it up and he’s clearly freshly showered and in the most casual outfit you’ve ever seen him in. Not being in your usual heels means both of these men now dwarf you. Not necessarily in height but in width too.

Walking in, Choso is on their couch, beer in hand already. You join him setting the snacks on the table.

“I’m exhausted you guys. Tonight kicked my ass” you plop down in the middle of the couch next to Choso and Nanami is sitting in a chair nearby.

“Same” Choso affirms and swigs his beer before leaning his head back. The tips of his hair, still a little wet from his shower.

5 beers later and your laughing at something Choso said. Nanami gets up and disappears into the bathroom.

Your eyes meet Choso’s for a split second before you both try to avoid the look each party received. Eyes darting away. A chuckle slips through your lips and into the air of unspoken thoughts.

Choso, feeling the tension, leans into kiss you. He knows you’ve been flirting all night with him and his roommate. Maybe that’s just how you are? Maybe he’s reading you all wrong? He decides it’s worth a shot and luckily for him you’re receptive. Pressing your lips together in a soft but heated kiss. Both of you lean in to deepen the kiss. Both forgetting Nanami who could return any second. Lips pressed against each other and heat coursing through your cheeks.

“Jeez you really started without me?” Nanamis voice is deadpan, so much so you know he’s joking. Burying your face into Choso’s neck, you smile.

“Sorry” comes from between Choso’s panting breaths. You sit up and question “jealous?” He nods and sits next to you.

“Wow okay” you’re a little stunned but turn to Choso and he confirms its okay if you want them both. So you turn to Nanami and cup his cheek bringing him in for the softest kiss. Feeling the slight stubble on his jaw as you rub your fingers over the smooth skin. Choso’s hand rests on your thigh, index finger making small circles on your skin. Slowly making his way up your leg and teasing you just under your shorts.

With every inch Choso slides up your legs, you moan and pant into the kisses being the placed on Nanamis lips. His tongue tangling with yours and his hands pushing into your hair. Gathering it up softly as he grunts into the needy kiss as well.

Chosos fingers teasingly play at the edge of your panties and the two men set you on fire. Fuck this is really happening- all you can think about is this. The all consuming desire to be taken by both of these men.

Sighing into Nanamis mouth you break away and he starts kissing your neck. Choso pulls you into his lap and lets his fingers under the fabric hiding your wet cunt. Your back presses against his chest and you turn to kiss him.

One hand tangles in his hair and the other wanders to Nanamis lap. You cup the bulge and rub at his erection. Gaining confidence he pulls up your shirt and sucks your nipples through the soft cotton of your bra. And you pant hard into Choso’s kisses. Biting his bottom lip and fisting his hair.

“Fuck” is all you can think to say when you break the kiss.

“Gonna let us play angel?” Choso asks you while toying with your slick folds and nipping at your ear. His warm breath sending chills over your body.

“Y-yes” you manage to speak. Clearing your thoughts you follow up with “I’ve never had a full on threesome. Will you guys show me what to do?” Nanami pulls off your breast with a pop and kisses your cheek.

“Of course” he confirms.

“My room then?” Choso looks to you for confirmation and you nod pulling on Nanamis hand for him to join too.

“Are you both alright with this?” You ask shyly.

“Wouldn’t be the first time” Nanami confirms your suspicion. They’re too coordinated at this for it to be a first.

“Oh alright then” you say from the safety of Choso’s arms. He’s carrying you to the bed and sits down placing you in the same position you were in on the couch. Your back to his chest. His hands run down your front, teasing you. “I’m good with it” Choso whispers in your ear before biting your neck.

A heat spreads over you, making your neck and chest blush. Nanami steps in front of you and your hands drift to his hips. You simultaneously place your lips on Nanamis erection and press your ass back on Choso. Both of them are sizeable and hard. Fuck they’re so hard already. Wetness pools from you onto Choso’s fingers. Both of them are already making sounds of pleasure.

Waiting has never been your forte so you pull down Nanamis sweats and boxers. Letting his dick from the cotton fabric of his pants you begin placing small teasing kisses to the tip. He groans and collects your hair while you start licking up his shaft. Working up to taking him in your mouth.

Choso ruts against you and pulls down your bottoms. Removing his shirt and letting his erection free as well. Feeling him against your skin makes you moan around the dick now fully in your mouth.

“Please Choso i want-“

He chuckles “don’t worry, I know what you want” his large hands push up the hem of your shirt and runs his hands down your sides. Letting every curve and dip be appreciated with his fingertips. He runs himself through your folds and pushes into you. Slowly you sit down on him, being led by his big hands on your hips. Your hand squeezes Nanamis dick and you absent mindedly spread your spit up and down his length with your hand. Following your lips from tip to base.

Feeling Choso between your thighs was heaven and it only made you want more. Relishing in the heat pooling in your tummy Choso guides your hips up and down. Gliding one hand to your clit he uses your slick to circle the bud.

Nanami fists your hair and uses it to guide your lips and tongue on his dick. “That’s it princess” he throws his head back and you’re being thrust between the two men. Who knew your coworkers could be so nasty? You already knew they were sweet but this combo was so fucking good. The nasty way they were fucking you with the sweet things they said made you wetter than before.

“Fuckk” Choso groans as his hands grip your hips bruisingly hard “princess is right”

Moaning on the cock in your mouth you feel Nanamis hand cup your chin and pull you off. “I’m not quite ready to be finished yet so let’s focus on you hmm?”

He pushes Choso back on the bed and then you on top. Stepping between both sets of legs he puts his lips to your nipples. Sucking and licking every part he can get his mouth near. All the stimulation finally catching up to you, you clench on Choso’s dick. Orgasming fully, your legs try to close around Nanamis waist. Catching your knees in his hands he soothes your shaking thighs. Relaxing into the touch, your whole body melts into Choso’s.

“Can you take us both?” Choso asks in your ear.

“I’ve never-“ heat washes over you cheeks with embarrassment . “We can try though”

You reposition yourself and face Choso. Your breasts press skin to skin on his chest as he pulls you in for a searing kiss. Your body gushes around his dick and you moan into his mouth. Tongues clashing in passion.

“Can you take us both in the same place? One hole baby, I know you can” Nanami encourages you as he places kisses to your back and neck.

“Y-yeah” you stutter out.

“Good girl” Choso praises you as his hips still. Fully pushed inside you, you’re already stretched out but Nanami starts adjusting and pushing the rim of your entrance. Slowly he starts squeezing inside your cunt. Both men rubbing against each other and being fully sucked in by your body.

Pants and moans spill from your lips. The stretch making you fully stupid. These gorgeous men will take good care of you now and later you know. One dick slips out of you as they find their rhythm. Pushing it back in you grip Choso’s shoulders. He’s kissing your lips and neck. “You okay gorgeous?” He checks in with you. “Feel good?”

All you can do is wimper as a tear escapes your eye. “Mmhmm” you breathlessly confirm.

You kiss at Choso’s neck and chest. Pressed firmly between the two, Nanamis hand reaches past you as he threads his fingers through the dark strands flowing over the bed. Choso let’s put a soft whine and grasps on to your hips, pushing in all the way to the hilt.

Nanami stands up and starts to rubs circles into your lower back as he sets a decent pace, fucking you in and out. Bringing all 3 of you closer to a release.

Choso brings your lips in for a kiss, gripping both sides of your head with his big warm hands. You become just a moaning mess of a person between the 2 guys fucking into you. Heat spreads through your body and your fingers dig into Choso’s shoulders. Your release comes swift and your legs shake. Your shoulders and body curl into Choso.

Nanami pulls out and finishes on your back and ass. Panting, he grabs a wet cloth to clean you up. Choso slows his thrusts to a halt and holds you.

The warm cloth being pressed on your back is so tender it makes a few tears spill from your eyes. Your hands thread through Choso’s hair as you wimper.

“Fuck Nanamin please C’mere” you say as you’re sitting up and you pull him in for a deep kiss. Your hips move on Choso who’s still inside you. His hands on your hips guiding you and your lips chasing Nanamis kisses.

“Gonna come angel” Choso breaths out and your hands grip his chest. He rubs a thumb over your clit, vying for one last orgasm. Nanami plays with your nipples and kisses you deeply. Fingers running through your hair and gripping at the base of your nape. Pinching your soft buds eliciting moans from you that are muffled by his mouth.

Your fists clenched on Choso’s skin leaving small scratch marks across his chest. All of the attention brings you closer to the edge again. Choso is relentless against your clit and he’s pushing himself in and out of you.

Breathing in deep as Nanami releases you from the kiss you’ve been locked in, you crumple into Choso’s arms. He wraps his arms around you and fucks you into oblivion, In and out until you both know you won’t walk right tomorrow. Hips slamming together until you are both coming. His cum filling you up and yours coating his dick.

Panting he cuddles you and brings you both to your side. “Jesus fucking Christ” you say through strained breaths.

“Yeah” Choso agrees.

Nanami walks in the room, you hadn’t realized he left. He’s holding waters and setting them down for you on the night stand.

Laying down on your other side, Nanami squishes you between both of them. Neither of them let go of you, Caressing your side and back.

You lean in kissing Choso and then turn to kiss Nanami as well.

“Well fuck” is all you can say.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #choso kamo #jjk choso #jujutsu nanami #jjk nanami #nanami kento #choso nation #jujutsu choso #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x fem!reader #choso x you #nanami x reader

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mysterious-gizem · 4 months

Text

𝐎𝐝𝐝 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐮𝐭

Warning/s: (???)

Prompt given by: @gt-mcyt

(I'd like to thank them for getting me out of my writers block :3)

Taglist: @da3dm

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

A loud, ear-splitting wail jolted Puffy awake, and she threw the covers off her body and bolted toward her baby’s room. She thought of horrible scenarios of what could be happening. The sheep hybrid pushed the door open and watched as a hooded figure clutched her baby in their arms.

“Let him go!” Puffy ran over to the figure, tugging at their cloak, tears streaming down her face as she attempted to grab her child from the intruder. “Please!” She cried.

The trespasser pulled out a knife with one hand, still holding the baby sheep hybrid in the other. The knife was held closely to Puffy’s neck as she begged a silent plea.

“Please, that’s my baby…”

She sobbed violently as the intruder jumped out the window and vanished into the darkness. Broken cries came from the sheep hybrid. Her knees buckled, and she knelt on the ground, hands over her face in grief. Just then, another unfamiliar sob caught her attention. Puffy’s legs shook as she slowly stumbled toward the crib, which was not empty as she’d thought. Instead, her eyes widened when she saw a small baby sniffling inside the crib.

“Oh, sweet child…” She wrapped her arms around the new child, bringing it closer. She closed her eyes and cried with the baby close to her chest.

“My baby…”

~◇~

“Be careful when you play outside, okay, duckling?” Puffy enunciated to her child.

“Yes, momma.” The blond child nodded as his mother gave him a kiss on the forehead, not even needing to bend down to do so.

“And make sure you and Sapnap stay away from trouble, okay?”

Another nod came from the child, and Puffy watched him run out the door.

Puffy did notice that Dream was more peculiar than the other kids. He wasn’t the same kind of different as Bad’s kid; Sapnap was a blaze-born, which was already odd enough to see in the Overworld, but Dream was…Dream wasn’t a hybrid, Or, at least, Puffy never noticed any hybrid traits. What she did notice was that her kid was already insanely tall for his age, but every kid was different, right?

~◇~

“Sapnap!”

“Dream!”

The two kids embraced each other in a swift hug, and they chatted as they walked together to the playground. Once the duo arrived, heads turned to look at them; the children of the flock never truly accepted the two outliers. They weren’t particularly open to other kids who weren’t a part of their flock—especially if they weren’t sheep hybrids like themselves.

However, the other kids minded their own business, and Sapnap and Dream planned to do the same.

“Let’s go climb that tree!” The raven-haired child suggested as he dragged the blond. Dream watched with amusement as Sapnap struggled to climb the tree, snickering.

“Dream, you big idiot! Help me up! Put your height to good use!”

Dream sighed and grabbed Sapnap’s waist to help hoist him to the tree branch. His hands almost wrapped completely around his friend’s waist, and the maneuver barely used any strength from him. Dream frowned as he looked down at his hands, insecure. “Sap, do you think I’m too tall?”

The question surprised the blaze hybrid. Sapnap shot the other a perplexed look as he answered, “Nope! My dad can get really tall, so I’m used to it!” The hybrid watched as the blond stared at the other children playing around, still frowning. Sapnap grinned as he thought of a few games they could play to get Dream out of his mood. Sapnap jumped down the branch and slowly crept up behind Dream.

“Tag, you’re it!”

Sapnap giggled as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

“Wha- Sap!”

Dream grinned as he bolted from his spot, chasing his friend. The flock watched as the two ran around the playground, rudely and silently judging them. Sapnap glanced back worriedly, watching as the taller quickly gained on him.

“Wait! Wait! Dream– time out, time out!” Sapnap stammered as he slowed down his steps. Before he could catch his breath, a tall, heavy object collided with his body, and he and Dream both toppled to the ground.

“Looks like you’re it!” Dream teased. He giggled as he pushed himself off the other, Sapnap looking over at him with a grin.

“How about hide and seek?” Sapnap suggested. Dream perked up and nodded. “Okay, I count, and you hide!” Sapnap declared, placing his hands over his eyes.

Dream wasted no time dashing across the playground to the small forest area; he already knew the perfect tree for a hiding spot. The blond propped himself down in the hole under the tree. He distantly heard his friend scream “ready or not, here I come!” but his attention was quickly switched to how low the ceiling in the hole seemed. Dream thought, he was always the tallest of every other person in his peerage—everyone was always shorter than him—which resulted in him being the odd one out. Puffy would constantly reassure him with, “We’re sheep hybrids, we’re just naturally shorter, duckling,” or, “You’re a growing boy, Dream, you’ll be fine.”

Dream’s thoughts were put to a halt when a loud, familiar sounding cry broke through the quiet air. Sapnap! He crawled out of the hole, peeking to see what caused the shrill yell.

A few feet away, Dream watched as his fellow flock pushed around the blaze-born.

“Freak! You aren’t a sheep! You and that tall freak shouldn’t even be part of the flock!” The young sheep hybrid stuck their tongue out as they bullied the poor Nether hybrid.

Dream prowled behind the sheep hybrid, and without a second thought, he grabbed them roughly and pushed them to the ground. “Leave him alone!” Instinctually, the blond bared his teeth as he stared down at the sheep hybrid.

A bold statement then came from the other child. “You both don’t belong in this flock, neither does your mama or papa!”

Then, Dream just snapped.

~◇~

“He didn’t do anything wrong!” Puffy insisted. She couldn’t believe this! Her own brother, being the leader of the flock, was practically saying that he was going to kick out his nephew!

“Puffy- he beat up a kid! Have you seen the state of them? They were bloody and bruised; he wouldn’t even stop crying,” Schlatt explained. “We can’t keep that kid in the flock, we—we don’t even know what he is! He practically mauled that poor lamb.”

“Schlatt, he’s your nephew –”

“No – no, Puffy … my nephew is gone. He was stolen, and that intruder left the boy in the crib. Haven’t you ever stopped to think why they left that kid and took my nephew? Your son?”

Puffy stared, completely outraged at her brother, but she was rendered completely silent. “Please, Schlatt, you can’t take him away…I can’t lose my baby, not again …”

“I’ll…think about it.”

~◇~

“Momma, are you okay?” Dream’s small voice echoed through the room. Puffy hurriedly wiped the tears off her face and put on a smile.

“Yes, duckling, I’m fine.” Puffy gestured to Dream to come closer, which he did. “Duckling, promise me you’ll stop hurting others? It was wonderful that you protected your friends, but you can’t hurt others to do so.”

“I promise, momma…”

~◇~

Puffy was undoubtedly grateful for the fact that Schlatt didn’t kick her kid out of the flock, even after many protests came from the members of said flock. She watched as her kid grew up. The others in the flock were terrified of the fact that her kid, at eight years old, was already towering over most people. But Puffy could feel nothing but love for her little—or rather, not so little— duckling.

“Momma! Can I go to Sap’s house?” Dream asked excitedly as he stared down at her.

Puffy shot him a soft grin. “Just behave yourself, alright?”

The blond grinned as he ran out of his own house and quickly went over to the Nether-born’s house—frankly, it wasn’t too far—and he knocked on the front door. Dream heard a bit of shuffling before the door creaked open, and he faced Bad, Sapnap’s dad.

“Hi, Mr. Halo!” Dream greeted warmly.

“Dream, come in! Sapnap’s been helping me bake muffins for you guys!” Bad announced as they walked toward the kitchen.

“Let’s go play in my room!” Sapnap said, quickly taking off his apron as he ran toward the blond. Sapnap was about to drag Dream with him before his father stopped the two.

“Hold on—I prepared a snack tray for you guys.” The blaze-born groaned as he reached out his arms to grab the tray. “There’s cookies, berries, and of course, muffins!”

Dream and Sapnap snickered as they both ran to Sapnap’s room—Sapnap almost tripping over his own feet. “Let’s build a fort!” The blond prompted as Sapnap set down the tray of food on his nightstand.

They both built the fort, placing the blanket as their roof and grabbing a few chairs to make it more stable. “Let’s both eat in the fort!” Sapnap grinned as he grabbed the tray and pushed it inside the fort. The duo crawled inside their makeshift home and stared munching on the baked goods. Inevitably, the two began to play with their food, even after the countless past protests from both their guardians.

“First one to throw a grape in the air and catch it in their mouth wins!”

Grapes were now lying on the ground around the two as they both aggressively threw one grape after another. Their frustration grew because neither could catch the grapes in their mouths.

“I got it!”

Dream grinned as his words were muffled by the grape in his mouth. Sapnap groaned as he and Dream collected the fallen grapes from the ground.

Hiccup!

“Awh, man!—hiccup—I got the—hiccup—hiccups…” Dream whined as he continued to hiccup. An itching sensation made itself known as Dream struggled with the hiccups.

Hiccup!

Sapnap yelped as their fort tumbled on top of him. He pushed the pillows and blankets off him, and as he slowly unveiled the covers, he was met with his friends, and—was he taller?

“Yo, dude! You just grew!” Sapnap exclaimed, staring in astonishment. Dream grew quiet as his hiccups turned into sobs. Suddenly, Dream started bawling his eyes out and pulled his knees closer. Sapnap panicked.

“Dad! Dream’s crying!”

“What did you do, Sap?—What did you two muffin heads do?!”

~◇~

“Hey Bad! What’s up?” Puffy smiled as she stared up at the demon—to be fair, Bad was far from what demons were normally like—but Bad seemed out of breath, as if he ran in a hurry to her house (he did).

“Puffy—uhm…Dream kind of grew? Like, he’s probably taller than me in my demon form, now…”

“What?!” Puffy stared at him in disbelief, quickly grabbing her keys and locking the door as she began to head to Bad’s house.

“Sap explained that him and Dream were just eating in their blanket fort and Dream got the hiccups, and suddenly I’m giving Dream a giant blanket because his clothes are ripped–” They were both running and Puffy wasn’t able to give Bad a verbal response, but instead a worried look. Once they arrived at Bad’s house, they rushed to Sapnap’s room.

“Momma–” Dream cried as he clutched the blanket that Bad gave him.

“Oh, my poor duckling, are you okay?” As the sheep hybrid comforted her son, Bad gestured for Sapnap to follow him to give the mother and son some privacy.

“Momma, am I a monster?”

“Duckling, no! You aren’t a monster, you’re just…different.” She tried to be reassuring in her answer, but her words trailed off as she took in just how big her son actually grew—it was at least seven extra feet!—The two stood in silence as Puffy soothed her child.

A problem that would later arise was how Puffy was supposed to return Dream to their home without him being seen.

“Bad, is it okay if we stay until night? It’ll be easier for me to sneak Dream back into our house…” Puffy asked sheepishly.

The demon was more than willing to allow them to stay for a bit. “Of course, Puffy! The kids are still playing, anyway.”

“Dream, this is literally so cool! You’re like a giant now!” The blaze hybrid was way more excited than the blond, but he was attempting to hype him up.

“I guess…” Dream replied with a small smile.

The following hours were spent with the two boys figuring out how to play with their new size difference and the two adults trying to sew an outfit for Dream.

“Dream, it’s time to head home!” Puffy called as she continued to speak with Bad. “Are you sure it’s okay to leave the clothes here? It’s still not finished, so if you want, I can finish it. It’s for Dream, anyway–”

“No, no, it’s fine, Puffy! I’ll finish it! It looks like you’ve got a lot on your plate already…” Bad said, firm.

Just then, the two boys came stumbling into the room, Puffy now getting a clearer look at her boy standing up; she was thankful that Bad had tall ceilings. In Sapnap’s room, Puffy only saw Dream sprawled across his floor, but seeing him stand at his full height made her worry even more.

“Oh, and Bad, I’m sorry for taking your sheets—I’ll return them right away, I swear!” She promised.

Bad and Sapnap stood outside their doorway as they waved goodbye to the mother and son. Puffy carefully guided Dream back to their house. The pitch-black sky assisted in hiding the blond but was not as helpful in letting them return home without bumping into things.

After a few minutes stumbling about, they could distantly see their house; the lights were still on. Once Puffy thought they were in the clear, a deep gasp caught her attention.

“Puffy—what the hell happened?!”

Schlatt.

“Look—look, Schlatt, I can explain.” Puffy panicked as her brother stared up at her son with fear.

“What is he, Puffy?” Schlatt asked with a shaky but serious tone. Puffy sighed as she glanced at Dream, her heart aching at seeing his terrified look.

“Schlatt, even I’m not sure, but I do know that he’s just a kid,” Puffy said. Oh, Prime, she just hopes Schlatt won’t instantly kick him out.

“Duckling, can you please go to your room? Try to be careful-” The blond listened right away, quickly rushing to his room. Surprisingly, he didn’t knock a single thing over on his way. The ram seemed to ease up once Dream left, which caused Puffy to grimace.

“Schlatt, just…please don’t kick him out?” Puffy pleaded with her older brother, eyes solemn.

The older ram stared at her with a concerned look, “I’ll need to speak with the others…” He sighed. “Good night, Puffy.”

~◇~

The next day, Schlatt knocked on Puffy’s door, which caused Puffy to stop everything she was doing and rush to the door. “Schlatt, hi!” She said, heaving for breath.

“Look Puffy, I’m giving this to you straight…” Schlatt began, grimacing at Puffy’s hopeful expression. “We’ve decided that Dream won’t be kicked out…but he’s on thin ice—and the others want him to help with village chores. His height does give him leverage, after all…”

Puffy burst into tears and launched herself at Schlatt, catching him in a tight embrace; she stressed about it the entire night. “Thanks, Schlatt…” She cried happily.

“He’s still my nephew,” Schlatt sighed.

Then, unexpectedly, Dream came running down the stairs, the sheet still draping over his frame. His body seemed to go stiff when his eyes locked onto Schlatt’s. “Hi Uncle Schlatt…” The blond greeted shyly.

“Hey kiddo,” Schlatt grinned as Puffy stood up and wiped the tears on her face. “I thought you’d be out and playing with your friends?” The ram asked and looked at the sheep.

Puffy stuttered. “Oh, uhm, we’re still working on clothes for him…so he’s not going to be outside for a while.” She sighed.

“Do you think his clothes will be ready by next week? The village elders wanted Dream to help fix the playground…”

“Already? He hasn’t even adjusted to his height, and you want him to do work so soon?” Schlatt stared at her, silent. Puffy sighed, knowing she’d have to let Dream help. “I’ll go over to Bad’s today and help him work on the clothes.”

Schlatt nodded and started to leave as Puffy shut the door behind him. Dream stared, looking shy.

“Momma, are you okay?”

“Yes duckling, breakfast is in the kitchen. I made pancakes!” She said with a wobbly grin. The kid excitedly hurried to the kitchen as Puffy’s head dropped.

This was her baby’s life now…

#giant!dream #minigiant!dream #tiny!sapnap #tiny!puffy #giant/tiny #gt #dsmp g/t #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #g/t #writing

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navibluebees · 1 year

Note

Ohhhhh do I have a prompt for you ;)

Z-dog and f!human are in the recom quarters cuddling thinking they will have at least a couple hours of peace and quiet when unexpectedly some of them come back (I was thinking Lyle, Quaritch, Mansk and Spider, but it’s up to you). All that I will say is: teasing and funny shenanigans

Flustered - Part 4

Please read before interacting.

I am soooooooooooo excited! Also, dear shenanigans anon, they will be cuddling. Along with some other things. Ehehe. I hope that's alright. Minors, avert your eyes between the gifs later on!! Thanks. <3

Some things to know: For plot convenience, how I picture the recom quarters is a kind of double ventilation system. So at night they can switch the vents and don't have to wear masks while they sleep, but during the day, there's a way to seal it so that humans can come in and collect the laundry/ drop off food, bedding or whatever. Alsoooo it's a bit easier for Y/N to kiss Alicia without a mask on. 👀

Second: Y/N is wearing a dress in this one. Apologies if you're not a dress girly, I just had this picture in my brain as soon as I got this ask.

You threw back your head, laughing. Alicia had just made the silliest face, imitating Quaritch and now you two were wheezing and falling into each other. She took a quick breath from her mask as soon as she was calm enough and smiled down at you. You cuddled into her side and her eyes fluttered shut. She wrapped an arm around you, squeezing your hip.

You were having a sort of picnic in the recom quarters. Sitting in the corner near her bed, you chatted and shared snacks and drinks, giggling into the afternoon. The other recoms were all out for the day, busy doing things for work or just being outside. She had showed up outside your room a few hours ago, basket in hand.

"I'm stealing you today. Let's go."

You frowned, looking down at your sweatpants you'd spent the morning in. "But.. I want to change clothes."

"It's alright, you don't have to. I love the way you-"

You yanked on her arm, pulling her into the room. "I'm changing. Sit and don't look." She obediently sat and covered her eyes, sprawled on your tiny bed.

You hurried around your room, searching for the perfect thing. Aha! There it is. You grinned with excitement and changed quickly, followed by a quick adjustment to your hair and slid your flats on. "Okay. I'm ready."

She opened her eyes, blinking to adjust and then her mouth popped open. You had chosen a purple dress, similar to the color of the crystal she had brought you. It was off the shoulder, flowy and ending around your knees, with a bow tied across the back. You spun, enjoying the attention and she leapt up, picking you up and kissing you sweetly on the mouth. It was less awkward than your first kiss had been, but you guys were still working out the best way with such a staggering height difference.

You came back to the present, feeling her hand on your knee, fingers tracing small circles. Her touch made you shiver and you crawled into her lap. Her face slackened, eyes locked on you. She held your hips so carefully, fingers wrapped around you to graze the skin at the opening on the back of your dress.

You stood up, breasts brushing right underneath her neck and she tried to focus on you instead of pressing her face into them, but she could barely hold back. "I'd like to try something," you whispered.

"Anything," she gulped. "I'm yours."

You smiled fondly at her, kissing her on her forehead. She held you close as you swayed together for a moment. When you pulled away, you held onto her hand and tugged her with you. There was a thin curtain separating each bed to give the recoms privacy and you pulled it back, going to hers. She tugged it closed behind her, trembling eagerly.

You laid down on your back on her bed, reaching both hands for her until she came to sit beside you. Her heart was racing and her cheeks flushed that familiar purple you had come to adore.

"I don't want to hurt you," she murmured.

You sat up, putting a hand over her heart and gave her a gentle smile. "You won't."

She followed you down, resting on top of you.

It was a bit uncomfortable for a moment until you spread your legs open and she settled between them. A flush had come over your cheeks as well. You reached for her shoulders and pulled her down, lips meeting yours in a fevered kiss. You smiled, feeling her echo it and kissed her a bit harder, nipping at her lip. She growled quietly and ducked her head under your jaw, nuzzling at the sensitive skin.

You could barely keep from writhing underneath her as she kissed softly, gently tugging your earlobe with her teeth. Her hands cradled you and she propped up on her elbows. She pulled back, breathing hard and pressed her forehead to yours. "Are you sure about this? We don't have to do anything you're not ready for. Plus," she paused and wiggled her fingers, "I'm still nervous I'm going to hurt you."

You burst into a laughter heightened by your aroused state. "I want to be close to you. If you aren't ready, that's okay. If you don't want me that way, that's okay too."

"No no no do not say things like that. I know you're being kind, but you have to know that I absolutely crave you and have desired you since the moment you walked into that office."

Your eyes widened and you covered your face, unnerved by the intensity of her words. She gently pried your hands away. "Don't get shy on me now, angel." A wolfish grin appeared on her face and your heart fluttered, your hands grabbing at her for another kiss.

She came down with a renewed zeal, biting harder at your neck, gently sucking. Shit, there would definitely be hickeys tomorrow, you started wondering if you had a scarf or high-necked blouse that would cover it when you felt her slow. "I can hear your mind drifting. Come back to me." She bumped her nose against yours.

"Sorry, darling." You frowned at her, a bit embarrassed.

She smiled affectionately nuzzling your cheeks. "You're okay. Your brain is one of the things I love most about you. But these... They're definitely the toughest competitor. She palmed your breasts through your dress. You hadn't worn a bra today and were thankful, loving the way her eyes caressed your body and needing more of it.

She reached underneath you and untied your dress. You gasped as your breasts were exposed to the colder air, nipples peaked. She groaned, her head lifting and exposing her neck. You pulled her down, offering soft bites and marks of your own on her skin. She melted into your arms, gently grinding against you.

As she moved lower in the bed, she leaned closer, gently sucking on a nipple and rubbing the other with a thumb. You whimpered softly, music to her ears. She continued fervently and switched breasts, giving each equal attention. You squirmed underneath her and she pinned your hip down with a hand. "Stop. Moving." She looked up at you through a predator's gaze and it was all you could do to give her a weak nod. Your body was putty in her hands and her simple touches were enough to drive you wild.

Her hand drifted lower on your hip, trailing down your leg. She gently rubbed your foot, then trailed her fingers up, stopping at your knee to squeeze and meet your eyes. Her body was humming with anticipation as she tilted her head, asking permission. You nodded and gripped her bicep, squeezing it and holding onto her.

She leaned down again, nose pressed to your sternum, inhaling your scent, hearing the beat of your heart. Her fingers drifted higher and higher until her head snapped up. You moaned, feeling her fingers moving around so close to where you needed her. She gently grabbed your chin, sitting up a bit more on her heels. "No panties. Were you planning to seduce me today, naughty girl?"

You flushed harder, feeling a tremor through your body. Breathless, you said, "It wasn't a plan, more of a hope."

She shook her head and laughed quietly. "Your hopes are mine sweet girl."

Her fingers found your entrance and gently prodded. Your legs opened wider for her and she pushed gently, murmuring, "You're already so wet for me, angel." She pushed a single finger into you and you gripped her tightly, eyes meeting hers. "It's alright," she soothed. "You can do it. You're so beautiful, my girl. Do you want another?" You nodded eagerly as she readied to push another finger in. You cried out, tears leaking from your eyes which she promptly kissed away. She finally pushed both fingers fully in and lingered, giving you a moment to calm.

When you nodded again, leaning your cheek against her forearm, she made a gentle scissoring motion and you breathed harder. She curled her fingers slightly and rubbed them against your inner walls, so intensely focused on you. She moved further to the end of the bed and grabbed your hip, fingers still inside and pulled you to the edge of the bed as she knelt between your legs. she helped you raise your legs over her shoulders and cross them behind her head, purring at the warmth between your thighs.

Her mouth met your core and her tongue flicked against you, tasting you. You both moaned at the same time, her husky voice making every fiber of your body tingle. She spread you wider and rubbed her nose against your clit. Inhaling your scent she groaned, pulling back to savor every detail of you. Gripping the sheets, your pink-tinged face tilted up, mouth open in a soft 'o'. Your breasts and budded nipples, your soft stomach she wanted to kiss, she felt a wetness between her thighs that mirrored yours.

You whined and her eyes darted to your face. "Impatient, are we?"

You fought a grin off your face, feeling your heart flutter with adoration. She returned it, resting a cheek against your thigh before her lips curled impishly at the ends and she curled her fingers again to draw another moan from you. Her tongue met your clit and you trembled, legs quivering around her head. She held your thigh firmly with her free hand and scraped a fang against it, biting your leg and leaving a mark.

You squeezed your thighs around her head and brought her closer, her tongue returning back to where you wanted It most. Her fingers pumped, running her tongue over your clit again and again. Her fingers filled you over and over and when you finally came around them, she huffed and dug her other hand into your hip, pressing hard enough to leave bruises. She waited until you stopped clenching around her and carefully pulled her fingers out, smiling down at you.

She brought her fingers up to her mouth and licked them slowly, keeping eye contact the whole time. Your whole body shook, coming down from your high and she quickly kissed the marks she had left on you and adjusted your dress, tying it in the back, and pulled the blanket over you.

You turned to her saying, "But, I want to-"

She put a gentle finger across your lips before kissing them softly. "But nothing. I enjoyed making you feel good and anything else can come later." She winked and laid down behind you, pulled the blanket up to your waist, curling up around you. She bent an arm and rested her cheek against her bicep and put the other hand across your chest, pulling you against her. You dozed lightly and felt her body relax behind yours.

~~~

"Oh. My. God."

"Shhh! Don't say anything. Just turn around and leave."

"But-"

"Shut. Up."

Your eyes fluttered open and you felt Alicia's body already tensed behind you. Glancing up, your heart dropped in your stomach as you saw four bodies standing in front of you. The curtain was pulled back. Lyle, Mansk, Quaritch, and even Spider were standing there gawking.

Mansk's shades were pushed up onto his head, his eyes wide, nostrils flaring. He froze and turned around, arms filled with grilling tools as he sped away out of the recom quarters. Lyle looked after him and cackled as he turned back around. He sniffed deeply, eyes roving over your body. "Interesting," he murmured. "Smells like-" Alicia sat up behind you, hissing at him and baring her fangs.

You were jostled by her sudden movement and pushed up with both arms, locking eyes with Quaritch at the same time you realized he could see right down your dress. He quickly smacked his hand across Spider's face to shield his eyes, accidentally knocking him back. Quaritch tossed the kid over his shoulder and walked quickly out of the room.

Only Lyle stood there, guffawing so hard he could barely breathe. He took a breath from his mask and said, "You're real cute, I'll see you when you get tired of this one."

Alicia jumped from the bed and sprinted after him as he ran around the room. He tripped over a pair of boots and rolled as she pounced, landing on top of him. She whipped her knife out, pointing it to his chest. "If you ever think to say something like that again, don't. I will gut you."

"Oooh, don't tempt me with a good time."

She rolled her eyes and got off of him, yanking him up with her. She shoved him toward the door. "Get out of here, dumbass."

He skipped out the door and singing, "Y/N and Z-dog sittin' in a tree.."

She made her way back over to her bed, pulling the curtain closed again. She took in your disheveled appearance. Hair mussed, lips swollen and face flushed. "Damn. This isn't fair. How do you look so good right now??"

She took a deep breath from the mask beside the bed and laid down next to you, resting her head on your torso. "I'm so sorry for those goons. We'll probably pay for that later."

You wrapped your arms around her and held her close. "Oh, well. It was bound to happen sooner or later. It was.. pretty attractive the way you were threatening him, though.

She propped herself up with an elbow, smirking down at you. "Yeah, you liked that?" She grinned at your nod and bent down peppering your face with kisses and purring contentedly at the giggles that burst from your lips. "You are too. damn. cute."

She snuggled down beside you, pulling the blanket back over the two of you, holding you as you drifted back to sleep.

***

Thank you for reading! Shenanigans will continue in Part 5~

Taglist:

@octavias-next-meat-bite

#recom z dog #z dog x reader #recom zdinarsk #zdinarsk smut #avatar recoms #Alicia Zdinarsk

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italoniponic · 2 years

Note

May i request hcs for lilia, riddle, and epel with a lover or crush if you want, who is shorter than them? Like about 150 cm short? From what i remember riddle is 160, lilia 158, and epel 156.

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

| Notes: Hi, anon!

*Short kings supremacy*

Okay so… most of these turned out to just mention the height sometimes but I think they’re still good. It’s just a general relationship hcs with a reader that is actually short too. But at least it looks more like hcs this time lol Hope it’s good enough. The short jokes might be, for sure!

Thanks for the request <3 |

Epel Felmier, Lilia Vanrouge, Riddle Rosehearts x g!n short reader with 150m / fluff / crush and lovers / headcanons / bow-tie trio

Cherry's Harvesting event 🍒 Masterlist

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

It goes without saying that since you have the closest height to his, Epel understands you on an almost spiritual level. The difficulties, the disadvantages and even some joys of being short. Of course, sometimes some classmates call you “kindergarten couple” and you have to hold Epel before he get on a fight and everything ends in confusion, but it's just the ups and downs of life;

Epel will always defend you from troublemakers, no matter how tall they are or if you know how to handle things yourself. A real man helps his friends in all situations and he wants you to know that you can always count on him;

When Epel realized that he was in love with you, the world seemed to change around him. It started to make more sense. You understand him better than anyone and whenever he is sad or down about something, you are there to cheer him up and make him regain his strength. He doesn’t have to sit still and stand tall, like a beautiful apple in a shop window. You are strong enough to endure the sweetness and poison inside him;

He needs to be honest: being the “tall one” of the couple makes him happy. No happier than necessary, he always assures you — and makes you laugh in the process. But there is something in the way that he can hug you and give you a shoulder to rest in the perfect position, give a cute kiss on your forehead without having to stretch all over to reach you and be able to support you in anything, literally or figuratively;

But Epel likes to look at your relationship beyond the heights. You always support each other's hobbies and engage in a real competition of compliments. You love each other so much that your friends don't even know what to do with you anymore;

Because you show him what you do as a hobby, Epel likes to gift you with carved apples — some he even made in front of you — and invites you to attend the Magift club workouts if you have time left. As if you were going to miss watching your little man put effort and give his all in his favorite sport!;

You don’t manifest yourself too loudly at such moments, keeping your cheer to yourself. But Leona and Ruggie can hear even your motivational whispers to Epel, which they like to use to tease him a bit. Despite the frowns he gives to his veterans, he couldn't be more grateful for your presence there;

Epel keeps telling you about Harveston’s stuff and his family. You know of stories even from the fifth generation of Felmier’s past. He has a photo album and once let slip that he couldn’t wait for you to be there either, sharing a story with him. Such words that made him blush furiously;

One of the things you do to cheer up Epel when he is sad is to prepare fried meat for him. You've searched for several recipes for seasoning meat and Epel is always prepared — and satisfied — to be your taste tester. To prevent Vil from noticing, you prepare a small portion of salad at the end and Epel brushes his teeth before returning to the Pomefiore. “It's two birds with one stone,” as he would say in his strong accent, chuckling;

Epel has always liked the sound and practicality of the concertina, more so because it was easy for him to play an instrument that isn’t bigger than him. He wrote a song for you but no matter how hard you try, he won't show you at all. Not until the right time, at least. You found this out because of a paper he was writing in but he held it up high so you wouldn't reach and take it from him — it was a pretty funny scene to watch, according to Ace;

Once you were distracted and Epel wanted to surprise you. So one minute you were walking and the next you were spinning in Epel's arms. The courtyard of the apple trees in the school had become a blur for you. You laughed out loud, amused by the surprise, and Epel’s heart was beating fast. He managed to hold you without difficulty, the result of his exercises. “Never forget this, ya see? I love you.”

Being a little gremlin catalyst for chaos is an ancient art and passed on to a few, but Lilia knew, the moment he looked at you, that he wanted to teach you everything he knew. Which became a problem because one part of his techniques had the magical abilities of his own kind as a basis and the other part was refined thanks to videogames — and he didn't even know how to explain what he learned;

Lilia is not much taller than you but he likes to float by your side because you complain about him “cheating” his height and your angry expression is funny. When you get used to Lilia's quirky humor, you end up laughing at these situations too;

Perhaps one of the most natural consequences in the experience of you falling in love with Lilia and vice versa, was that you became more involved with the Diasomnia family. And to find out that, in the most unusual way possible, yes, they were a family and that Lilia was older than he appeared. That was a shock. Did that mean you were going out with a family man?;

Once, Lilia showed you his wardrobe — “or at least,” his words, “what could fit in his suitcase to bring to school.” His bedroom itself was a war zone but, the wardrobe was an unknown whirlwind that could only take you to the fantastic adventure that was Lilia's aesthetic sense: being a wizard of the Middle Ages, a punk-rock teenager and a child who likes to wear literally everything;

Lilia ends up taking pleasure and initiative in teaching you various fencing techniques and use of other weapons to compensate for your height in any fight you end up meeting by accident. You also train in hand-to-hand fighting, which usually ends in a tickling attack and endless hugs. Silver doesn't know what to do with you two;

Lilia always talks about you at the Pop Music Club, a simple part of the process of falling in love that he never got to go through. You were his first love, to be honest. Kalim is very fond of hearing Lilia comment on the things you do together. Cater once joked that you could pretend to be kids and pay half the price of tickets to the movies — and that was one of your most memorable dates;

You always cheer and support Lilia at the small club concerts. And when I say “small concerts”, they are mostly samples that the club is required to do once a month to prove that they are actually working. Usually you, Silver, Sebek and some other curious are present. Everyone fears Lilia's ability to play guitar with just his teeth but, you find your little man just amazing;

They say that the best couples are those who inspire each other to improve and you, following this course, decided to accompany Lilia in the kitchen. Whether it’s for disaster — because you might be worse than him, maybe — or whether it’s to improve him, you lean on each other to pick up difficult ingredients and have fun making recipes;

Lilia always tells you a lot about the Valley of Thorns and his past. They are stories about a place you never expected to know, a life that seemed to have gone through hundreds of experiences. Lilia regrets many things he did during the war and knows that since his family came from a time when human-faerie relations were thorny, his entire ancestry must have been mortified to see that he was reveling in human creations. And worse — better, in his view — his heart now belonged to a human;

You commented on your hobbies to Lilia and now, you can add one more: becoming the “mother” of Silver and Malleus. For Silver and Malleus, it's natural to treat you like a second relative, even if you don't have the same emotional maturity. Well, considering Lilia, the parenting parameters were confusing from the start. But it's nice to show the things you do to someone and see them simply in awe of the things you like. Sebek is that step-youngest-son who is still getting used to your presence but, little by little, you are gaining his respect and admiration;

Honestly? Your best dates are when Lilia picks you up to fly over the school. Or sometimes to literally dance in the air between Night Raven College’s towers and the clouds of the sky. It looks like something out of a movie and more like a dream. Your days in the future hold many more surprises and fantastic adventures, you assume. “I lived for a long time and saw several things. But you really make me have this human feeling of wanting to live much longer.”

The fact that Riddle can finally rest his neck and not look up so much to talk to you is a terribly guilty pleasure. Every time Riddle thinks about it, he gets into a dichotomy of laughing at his luck and feeling sorry for your bad luck. But you guys are literally ten inches apart and you're just adorable in his eyes;

There was this time that Riddle was being pestered by Floyd and being called “goldfish” as always, so you showed up and defended him from this great merman threat. Did you make it? No. The two of you had to run away from Floyd who became even more interested in teasing you and taking you both in his arms as if you were two squishable teddy bears. But Riddle will never forget this day;

In fact, when it's your turn to fall victim of Floyd’s humor, Riddle comes to you and rescues you like a knight. All in the name of his love for you. He would face the Leech twins at the same time for you. He would reach for you the book from the highest bookshelves — which is difficult and time-consuming but not impossible — and help you with whatever you needed most;

Riddle loves your presence in his life. From studies to dorm leader work, from wonderful to bad times. You’re always there for him and that means a lot. You don’t require him to be perfect, without mistakes. In fact, you love those rare and even precious moments where Riddle does something weird or says something wrong and you laugh a little. “It's okay,” you assure him with genuine kindness;

Library dates are the best. Well, all your dates are the best, but there's something about the silence of the library, the comfort of bookshelves, the dust of old books and the sound of Riddle making pen notes that are really special to you. And he really tries to reach for you the most difficult books until you suggest using a chair as a support;

Speaking of support: this is one of the most beautiful parts of your relationship. Every ruler needs a consort, a precious and beloved right-hand man, the one who listens to your concerns and is one of the people who helps the ruler move forward, with advice, consolation and respect. The Queen of Hearts had her King and Riddle has you;

Riddle is your number one option to ask for help with studies. Just because you're both short in this endless valley of giants you call high school, it doesn't mean you shouldn't strive to have a good future going forward. If you have any questions, Riddle will always know how to solve them;

Riddle has never been allowed to have many hobbies, especially if they aren’t useful for studies, so when you talk about yours, he gets really interested. You basically teach him to relax most of the time. In these moments, Riddle takes you to the garden of Heartslabyul and you both take care of the hedgehogs — one of the few playful hobbies that Riddle has and he is happy to see you interested too;

When you have time available, most of the time you end up stopping at the school stables or at the Equestrian Club field. Everything to see Riddle ride a horse. He always takes time to notice your presence there, especially because you motivate him to maintain a more role model posture for the other students in the club. And if you ask nicely, he even takes you for a horse ride;

Riddle doesn't know how or if he would be able to introduce you to his parents for a number of reasons, not only the fact that his mother might not approve of you or the fact that he lost touch with his father thanks to her. It's all very difficult. A terrible baggage that he doesn’t want to throw on your shoulders, even if you insist on wanting to help him in what you can;

When no one is watching, Riddle and you hide in the garden where the dorm has the Unbirthday parties — because, as you once well noted, it didn't go against any rules. Riddle sits on his throne and you pull out a chair to stand near him. The throne is too small to fit two people, even those that aren’t taller than one mile. You don't do anything scandalous there, you both just talk privately in the open air, away from the worries and confusions of the world. It is logically ideal. “I know it's too early to say that, but I want to have you by my side for my whole life.”

#twisted wonderland #epel felmier #epel felmier x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst imagines #twst x reader #twst fluff headcanons #twst headcanons #cherry's writing #cherry's harvesting

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railroad-migraine · 1 year

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Hey Poet! <3 First, thanks bunches for all that you do, your writing never fails to make me smile! If it's alright, may I please request Molly, Essek, Yasha and Caleb with a socially anxious F!teammate/friend or crush who's a half-dwarf? She usually passes for a short human, but her dwarven heritage shows in her body being hairier and a bit more thicc than the average human female, which makes her very self-conscious. Thank you and have a lovely day <3

Okay but first, you're adorable. And second, I never expected to have a request like this but I'm so so glad you sent it in. You're lovely, honey. Thank you x

~ Poet

Reassuring Fem!Reader about body hair

Caleb 💜

To be honest, as perceptive as he is, it's not something Caleb ever really regarded as something to be noted or commented on. Your hair is just another part of you, another piece of your body for him to admire - it's no different to how he loves your hands, your eyes, your smile... Cough not that he's ready to admit that he loves you yet tho cough

He's always looking out for you and can just sense when you're having a bad day. He gets them too. The perfect person to talk to about anxieties or insecurities with because he can share his own experiences with you. Together, you work to fight against the niggling voices in the back of your heads and grow stronger and accept this is who you are, and that's good.

He makes more of an effort to try convey how he feels for you. His pinky shyly links with your own and he mutters something about how nice you look today, how confidence suits you. You know he means it.

Molly 💜

Molly has never really been one to judge someone on their appearances, and you better believe he's not gonna start now. You are lovely. You are strong. You are healthy. You are so very normal (in a extraordinary way). You're hot, stop doubting yourself sm <3

King of reassurance and looking after you on days where you're less confident or more self conscious. Treats you like royalty, recommends and drags you to a spa day to treat yourself and ease your worries, make you feel pretty and comfortable in your skin.

Beauty standards and trends come and go. Your body, and the hair that comes with it, is yours for life. He wants you to learn to love it. If you let him, he sits you in front a mirror at a vanity and points out every single thing about your appearance that makes you special and beautiful and handsome. He kisses your cheek, and asks quietly for you to see yourself just as he does.

Yasha 💜

Yasha thinks you're the cutest thing. She's quite tall, and since you're smol in comparison, it's a huge win for her. Lifts you up like you weigh nothing, more than happy to hold you on her hip or on her shoulders. Likes how the sunshine catches on your hair and skin because you practically glow.

Is kinda hairy herself and stops shaving her arms when you confide in her. She never really had a preference to having or not having hair - it was more of a habit than anything else. She wants you to know that it's completely human to be as you are, and you don't have to change for anyone. Change because you want to, not because you feel like you have to.

She thinks that no one should feel like they have to conform to societal pressures and such. It can be hard, especially in the beginning, but she's with you every step of the way to give encouragement and reassurance when you need it. Beauty comes in many shapes and sizes, and you're no exception (°^°)

Essek 💜

Also enjoys the height difference. He's not super tall himself, but the levitation helps give the illusion that he is. Presses sweet lil kisses to your forehead when you least expect it only to see you flustered and smiley.

Hot boi finds it hard to grow hair anywhere other than the top of his head, so he actually likes the contrast between you two 🥺 You're soft and warm and he just holds you happily. There are qualities he seeks in potential partners, such as intelligence and emotional maturity and kindness. You have all of those. He likes the the shadows and the stubble and fuzz (no matter how thick) and everything that comes with you because it's you.

He also thinks it's nice that you physically show your dwarven heritage! He wants you to be happy and proud of your people, your background and where you've come from - it's just a reminder of how much he loves every single inch of you. Life is too short not to love your body, fluff and all xx

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lcs-library · 5 months

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ello i see reqs are open 👀 may i have a banrisa with christmas theme 10 (the lights one) pretty please? 🙏🏻 if you'd like help narrowing down ideas, maybe they're in isa's apartment and one of them got tangled up in the lights or smth JSHDJD they were being silly goofy ;9 thanks friend!! 🙏🏻🫶🏼

SORRY THIS IS KINDA LATE…… Ofc bestie!!! It’s short but sweet, so I hope you like it<3

“You’re sure this ain’t too much?” Banri asked, hauling a large box across Isa’s apartment. “I mean, your tree’s kinda small, I don’t think this many ornaments will fit.”

“It’ll be fine, Banri-kun, I promise!” Isa replied, fanning out the branches of her, admittedly tiny, Christmas tree, only standing at about three-quarters of her height. She stood back, framing it with her hands, making sure it was at just the perfect angle.

It was no secret that Isa liked the holiday, despite all that had happened surrounding it. The fun decorations, the tasty food, and the time with loved ones was something she enjoyed greatly, and this year, there was another reason to love it. This was the second year in a row she’d be spending with Banri, and it was always a treat for her to have him all to herself after his troupe’s show had closed for the season, even if she knew it was a little selfish.

Once Isa was sure she was happy with the tree, she turned to Banri.

“What do you think? Should we move it any more?” She asked him eagerly.

“Looks good,” he replied, bringing her into a back hug. “Of course, anything you do ‘s good.”

“You’re sure?”

“Always,” he affirmed with a smirk, planting a quick kiss to her forehead. “Is there anything else I can help ya out with?”

“Yeah, actually! Do you mind helping with the lights on the tree? They should be in the box next to the couch.”

“Of course, I’m down.”

With ease, he quickly found the box she was talking about, opening it to be met with the second-worst thing for his Easy Mode buff. Tangled cords.

This is fine, Banri. You’ve done this with earbuds, remember? Just play it cool, I’m sure she won’t notice.

He took the crumpled mess out of its prison, setting it beside him as he sat on the floor. He’d be fine so long as Isa wasn’t watching, which, as of right now, didn’t seem to be the case, as she was busy sifting through the rest of the holiday decorations she had bought on their shopping trip last weekend. He was safe.

After managing to find the plug, he slowly attempted to release it from the one crossing over it. Then the next. This was shaping up to be easy.

Wait, why was it crossing over again? He just undid it! He groaned, tossing that piece of the wire behind him. He’d deal with it later. For now, he’d worry about the task in front of him.

Ah, screw it, this one was hard too. Behind him it goes.

Then the next. Why were they all such a struggle? This one’s getting tossed, too.

Before he realized, Banri was covered from head to toe in strings of lights, somehow more tangled than they were previously. God, he probably looked so stupid right now, but he would have to ask for at least a little help.

“Uh… Isa-chan?”

She turned to the sound of his voice, only to burst into a fit of giggles.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he said with a sigh, “can you just help me out here?”

“Just one sec, okay?”

“What, why?”

In an instant, Isa’s phone was out as she circled him, taking way too many pictures for Banri’s taste. With every one of her coos at his “grumpy kitty energy,” she called it, he grumbled, complaining more and more each time. Isa patted his head, giving his hair a quick ruffle in a rare role reversal.

“Alright, I’m done. Let’s get you out of here, okay?” She said with a soft smile.

She poked and prodded at the lights, pulling strings here and setting some there, doing her best to untangle him. Unfortunately, she was met with a struggle of her own.

“Banri-kun?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m stuck.”

“You’re what.”

“I guess we’ll have to both be tangled now, huh?”

“ISA HOW THE HELL-“

The end<3

#YIPPEEE TY FOR THE REQ DELI #thanks for the request!#request games #a3!#<-for backlist sorry #other yumes #Isa tag #a3! yume #Christmas/winter game 2023 #my fics

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sulky-valkyrie · 2 years

Note

happy friday!! how does 'Take off your shirt. Don’t give me that look’ sound for hurt/comfort with Anders + Nathaniel or whoever you like?

Mmm, love me a Nanders prompt <3

for @dadrunkwriting

~~~~~

Hands were tugging at his clothing. “What - Anders, stop it!” Nate sat up, blinking in confusion. “This isn’t the - Maker, what are you doing?”

“I’m not trying to sleep with you - Andraste’s feral knickers, we covered that at least eight times this week that I wouldn’t.” Anders backed up to put his hands on his hips and glare at him. Why did the mage look so tall? Wait. Why was he laying on the ground? And why did his chest hurt? “You fell off a mountain.”

It started to come back to him. Darkspawn. Reports of several bands of them between Amaranthine and Highever. Tabris was still off in Kal’hirol, so they’d just gone out together to look into it. Bad idea, apparently. “There aren’t any mountains here; it was a hill, at most.”

“This is going to be like that marsh versus swamp argument all over again,” Anders muttered. “Whatever it was, you fell off of it. Bounced down like a bloody ragdoll.”

The archer groaned in annoyance.

“Take off your shirt,” Anders demanded.

Nate rolled his eyes and ignored him. Was the bow okay? Bones could be healed, but this was a damned heirloom. Honestly, he should probably stop using it and hang it up somewhere. But where was he going to find a better one? Maybe he should ask Tabris about that.

“And, don’t give me that look. She’ll kill us both if you get hurt.” The archer ignored him as he started to stand up. A wave of dizziness hit as he moved too quickly, forcing him to grab at a nearby tree to steady himself. The mage’s arms were around him, and a chilled hand touched his forehead. “And this is why you listen to the healer. I have perfectly rational reasons for wanting your clothes off.”

“It’s just bruises, Anders.”

“Bruises don’t make your pupils dilate like that,” the other man snapped. “Guarantee you hit your damned head on the way down or I’ll let you hogtie me and, I don’t know, make Oghren tell me bad jokes.”

Nate snorted. “You’d probably enjoy that.”

“Not the point.” Anders helped him to the ground. “Now, are you going to be a good little archer and let me fix all of this? Or at least look at it and laugh at you?”

“You are so bloody annoying,” he grumbled.

“And you love me.”

Nate hesitated. That was getting dangerously close to things he’d barely managed to think about. Things that were already too new and different and -

The mage chose to misinterpret his sudden stillness, or perhaps he really was that concerned. “Did you feel a sharp pain? Can you still breathe?”

He shook his head, then regretted it immediately as another dizzy spell overtook him. “It just, just aches, I think. Head hurts too, I suppose.”

“I knew it.” Anders’ hands were on his chest again, pulling it up and this time, he didn’t resist. Too sore, really. “Cracked ribs. Don’t fall off mountains, Howe.”

“Hills.”

The mage smiled and brushed some of Nate’s hair from his face. “No great heights. No hills, mountains, fortresses, castles, parapets, ramparts, palaces, towers -”

“Anders.” The archer grabbed the hand resting against his very bruised chest. “I’m okay. You’re okay.”

“Promise me not to fall off any more tall things.” He paused. “Or into really deep things.”

Nate snorted. “You’re a tall thing.”

“Are you planning to climb me?”

He reached up to cup the side of the mage’s face. “Are you offering?”

Gentle healing magic seeped into his skin as Anders gave him that shy smile that was so much softer and sadder than the one he normally wore as he turned his face to kiss Nate’s palm. “Always. You can have whatever you want.”

#da drunk writing circle #dragon age #fanfic writing #anders #nathaniel howe #nanders #prompt fills

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pumpkinspice-prouvaire · 2 years

Note

I have some triumvirate poly headcanons for you since you asked! :)

They all have separate bedrooms, because they value that personal space, but often times end up falling asleep all smushed on the couch together anyway.

Enjolras sleep talks. It's become a game for Courf and Combeferre to get him to sleep-debate with them, which is fun until he actually wins a debate in his sleep.

There is video evidence of this.

They have a movie night wheel, since they all have such different tastes in cinema, and will never agree on something if they have to argue about it.

They also have to have a dishwashing wheel, since Enjolras and Courfeyrac are liable to forget about shared chores (Enj because he gets swept up in work, and Courf because he's just easily distractible) and Combeferre ends up doing it all. Combeferre insists he doesn't mind, since he's a bit of a clean freak, but since they're all about an equal division of labor, Enjolras in particular had insisted upon the wheel.

Enjolras doesn't like pet names in relationships, but Courfeyrac loves them. So, Enjolras does his best to refer to his partners with them, at least when they're in private.

Eventually, he gets so used to calling people "baby" that, distracted during a meeting, he says "Thanks baby" to Bossuet when he gives him a coffee, and is so mortified he stops using pet names for a month.

Enjolras and Courf both like being the little spoon. Whenever they do end up cuddling in one of their rooms (combeferre's usually, it's the cleanest, and has the biggest bed) they basically form a spoon train with Enjolras in the middle, and Combeferre acting as the big spoon to end all big spoons.

omg thank you so much I am obsessed with them 😭💗😭💗 luvs of my life

The three of them are the worst to share a bed with- Enjolras is a sleep talker, Courfeyrac gets into bed and starfishes, and Combeferre moves around a lot and lowkey tries to fight people. None of their friends know how they manage to get enough sleep, but they've adapted and always sleep well together, good for them <3

Combeferre and Enjolras are practically the same height (Combeferre is two inches taller than Enjolras and Enjolras gets grumpy if anyone brings it up...) and then Courfeyrac is like, seven inches shorter than both of them. Yes okay maybe they affectionately bully him but they also both think he’s v cute they just refuse to admit it also he’s the perfect height for forehead kisses so everyone wins really

Combeferre obviously has an immune system made of steel by now, but every so often he'll bring something home from the hospital and both Courfeyrac and Enjolras get sick. Combeferre always feels really bad about it so he'll make them lots of soup and wrap them in blankets and give them lots of cuddles to make up for it (they always tell him not to feel bad but he can't help it). And then if Ferre gets sick or burns out from his long shifts they always make sure he gets enough sleep and will watch as many moth documentaries as he wants and practically force him to sleep in because Ferre deserves to enjoy his time off

They love cooking together- Courfeyrac is actually their head chef, Combeferre helps, and Enjolras is there for moral support more than anything because oh god do not let him cook. They also do brunch together every sunday morning and make like, a mountain of pancakes.

They stay up late into the night planning Les Amis meetings. They’re always like okay we’ll plan this LAST THING and then we’ll go to bed...and then four hours later they wake up in a pile on the sofa

Enjolras reading out loud on the sofa with Combeferre’s head on his shoulder and Courfeyrac’s head in his lap <3

this is so fluffy but idc I love them thank you for the ask ❤️❤️❤️

#answered #headcanon #polyam triumvirate my gdamn beloved #i have SO many headcanon asks im sorry but i promise i'll get to them soon #modern au #enjolras #combeferre #courfeyrac

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neon-back-alley · 2 years

Text

Male Relationship Headcannons

I DON'T WRITE ON THIS ACCOUNT ANYMORE. IF YOU LIKE THIS GO FOLLOW @real-crayon IT'S MY WRITING ACC NOW

Looking for the female headcannon list? You can find it here.

I wrote 90% of this post with a mini twizzler Happy Halloween you hooligans.

Cw: Threatening, cussing, mild self deprecation, scars, piercings, fake crying, slight nsfw in Kokichi's headcannons.

Characters: Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, Nagito Komaeda, Teruteru Hanamura, Leon Kuwata, Kokichi Ouma.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

Has soft hands, but they're surprisingly big compared to his, cough, height.

But he absolutely adores holding your own hands in private.

He prefers not hold them much in public, or really most kinds of PDA, but if you lock pinkies with him under the dinner table he'll have to excuse himself to go cool down.

Gives you gifts often, but as soon as you get all mushy he'll scoff at you and call you a name with a blush on his cheeks and a smile on his lips.

Kiss this little guy's forehead before bed. He'll be out like a light.

Sometimes you'll come home to roses, chocolates, and a note talking about how he'll be away for a bit and that he loves you.

As soon as he comes home after a few days expect a ton of kisses and cuddling.

Probably stuttered and cussed a lot when confessing to you.

He'll be the big spoon, but will begrudgingly be the little spoon if you ask.

Fuyuhiko will absolutely fall asleep on your chest like a cutie and yet threaten violence to someone that stepped on your toe. The duality of man.

Adores it when you call him sweet traditional names like honey.

Probably calls you babe/baby. Short but gets the point across.

Nagito Komaeda

Obviously calls you things like my hope, but also gets very sentimental and calls you other names like Dove.

If you just kiss his cheeks and he'll be all red so quickly.

Nagito absolutely has cold, clammy hands.

But he'll grab your hand and put them in one of his hoodie pockets to keep them warm.

Is okay with mild PDA, but will only give you little pecks if you say it's okay beforehand.

Needs reassurance often about whether or not you want to be with "trash" like him.

Shut this man up by kissing him right between the eyebrows.

Can do either big spoon or little spoon, but his favorite cuddling position is when you rest your head on his chest and he holds you tight.

Always very cold. Cover yourselves in several blankets before going to bed.

Listen to him ramble about his philosophical beliefs and he'll fall even deeper in love with you.

Kisses the tip of your nose and your forehead a ton.

If you're smaller or the same size as him, he'll blush like a madman if you take his green coat from him to wear.

TeruTeru Hanamura

Gives the BEST hugs.

Makes you your favorite dishes when you're down.

Actually, he just makes them for you whenever he can.

He's absolutely a little spoon. Hold him he's soft

Loves PDA, but doesn't do it if you aren't okay with it.

His hands are probably scarred with burns and cuts.

Kiss his scars and he'll shut down for at least ten minutes.

Calls you things like Darlin', sugar, hun, etc.

Surprisingly isn't very great at baking things.

His mom is the kindest woman you'll ever meet.

She considers you part of the family as soon as she meets you and will have you call her Mama.

Seriously. She won't let you leave her diner without stuffing you with food and compliments before making you take some dishes and recipes home with you.

Leon Kuwata

Calls you his songbird when he's all lovey, but similar to Fuyuhiko, he keeps it to things like Babe/Baby.

Constantly compliments you throughout the day.

Know an instrument? Know how to sing? He'll ask you to make a song with him.

Turns out pretty mediocre but at least you two had fun writing and recording it.

Probably attempted to convince you to get a piercing on more than one occasion.

Music dates <3

Has you lay back on his chest between his legs while you share headphones and talk about the music you're listening to.

Honestly? Both a little spoon and a big spoon, but he prefers holding you in a honeymoon hug.

Leon is probably a living heat radiator. He's so warm.

Likes PDA in the form of putting his arm around you, locking arms with you, kissing your cheek, et cetera.

Honestly a disaster at cooking.

You'll have to take over cooking and he'll make up for nearly burning the house down by covering your entire body in kisses later.

Kokichi Ouma

Oh this little shit.

Does anything and everything to get your attention.

Don't provide it? He'll cause a scene. "Accidentally" knocking things over, fake crying, calling you a meanie,

When you finally do he'll switch up so fast and smother you with his entire body while kissing every part of your body he can reach.

If Kokichi's shorter than you (he probably is) he'll purposely put his face in your chest when he hugs you. Even in public.

Absolutely goes out of his way to do PDA with you.

Yanks your collar to his height to kiss you in front of everyone

probably almost makes you trip or stumble while doing it.

Someone insults him and he's dramatically falling into your arms, fake crying, pointing at the person who insulted him with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead.

Play along with it and he'll struggle to keep his giggles to himself.

Little spoon. I do not take criticism on this matter.

Hug a pillow instead of him? He'll fall to his knees dramatically and cause a sob scene until you open your arms, to which he'll immediately dive into.

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huneekrispee · 3 years

Text

Where is my lover?

Pairing: c!Dreamwastaken x gn!Reader

Summary: Living outside the Dream SMP, far from the war and chaos, Dream was able to find comfort in you. One day, he leaves, promising to come back to you. It's been months, now you're left wondering... where is my lover?

Warnings: cursing, use of dream's real name, spoilers for the Dream SMP Finale, tiny bit of fluff at the start, angst

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I've been watching Attack on Titan recently, and the song 'Call Your Name' has me in the feels :( Sorry for being away for so long :( School has been an ass to me, I hope you enjoy it!! -Hunee <3

Also! Please don't mind the pronouns in the song! This is a gender-neutral fic, I merely just wrote the song lyrics as they are :)

She lost her brother a month ago

His picture on the wall

And it reminds me

When she brings me coffee... her smile

I wish I could be with her until my last day

In the forest, a cottage lays peacefully in a secluded meadow near a running stream. The tall trees lay their shadows onto the grassy floor, leaving marks from the sun. Water solemnly runs along, moving to its next destination through the stream. Grass rustles and a soft sigh is heard.

Stretching his arms above his head, a man clad in green slowly sits up, emerald eyes darting around. He yawns. "(Y/N)!" He's now standing up, searching for his lover. Dream's hand reaches down to grab his mask left abandoned on the grass, quickly putting it on.

Preparing his sword, his hand on the hilt, Dream slowly steps toward the cottage. He rests a hand on the door, waiting for something, anything.

A scream is heard.

He now slams the door open, netherite blade on full display, ready to attack. Looking around, he notices no one but (Y/N) in the cozy home, with a kettle on the ground next to them. Lowering his guard, sighing with relief, he sheathes his sword once more, walking over to his distraught partner.

"Are you alright?" Removing his mask, he takes their hands in his. Dream looks at them. (Y/N) looks down, taking their hurt hand out of his. Sighing, Dream quickly leads them over to the sink, running the tap. "What happened?" The coldness of the water helped soothe the burn. "I just, accidentally burnt myself with the kettle. It's okay, I'll live, Clay."

The man remained silent. The only sound heard in the cottage was the running tap water. After treating the burn on their hand, Dream leads (Y/N) to the chair on the side of the room. "You. Sit. I'll finish doing whatever you were doing. You just sit there and take it easy, you just burnt your hand." Bending down to their height, Dream stands face to face with (Y/N). He narrows his eyes slightly. He was always like this. Whenever (Y/N) got hurt in any sort of way, Dream was always on it, almost suffocating them with his overwhelming protectiveness.

They sighed, avoiding his eyes. "I- I was just... I just wanted to make you a coffee this morning. I know you're going to be busy later, so I wanted to make sure that you were energized for your work." Fiddling with their bandaged hand, (Y/N) smiled gently. "I see how you're always so dedicated to the stuff you do, and I wanted to return the favor, even if it's just a cup of coffee."

Dream's eyes softened. It was true, he was dedicated to his work. Running an SMP was hard, especially with some people interfering with his plans recently. He had plans to take power over the server again. Finding and taking everything his people were attached to was difficult, but at least he had (Y/N) to come home to. It was all for them. It was worth the hard work and pain just to see (Y/N) smile at him, showing him their love.

"It's okay. Thank you for wanting to do that, but you don't have to." Running his hand up to their cheek, he smiled. "I do all of my work for you, to help make a safe place for you. Once I sort out the rebellious people, I promise, I'll come back to you, and we can live together in my SMP." (Y/N) gazed up at him, looking into his eyes. They smiled, beaming at the idea.

"Alright! I promise I'll wait for you! I'll always wait for you. I love you, Clay."

"I love you too. I promise I will come back to you. Always."

He would do anything to see that smile on their face all the time.

She said she gave all her love to me

We dreamt a new life

Some place to be at peace

But things changed... Suddenly

I lost my dreams in this disaster

It had been two days. Two days since Dream had left. (Y/N) had since then tended to the flowers and read a few books Dream had gotten them from a faraway village.

'I wonder what he's doing now?' Looking up at the sky, (Y/N)'s mind began to wander. What was dream doing right now? Maybe he was still on his way back to his SMP? Or maybe he was trading with villagers for resources?

They smiled. Dream had been one of (Y/N)'s lifelong friends turned partner. They had met when (Y/N) used to live in a village as a child. (Y/N) was nine and Clay was ten. Dream had gotten into a rough fight with two skeletons and a zombie. He was stumbling around, trying to find help for his injuries.

That was when (Y/N) appeared. Hearing the boy's cries, they ran out of their family home, taking Dream into the house to be treated, screaming for their parents to help him.

They had grown up together as best friends after that. Meeting George and Sapnap, the group loved to go on little adventures together and play their favourite game: manhunt. Dream would always insist on running, with George and Sapnap chasing after him. Sometimes, (Y/N) would join them, but they quite enjoyed seeing the trio panic during the game. It was fun.

A couple years ago, Dream visited (Y/N), saying that he was starting up his own SMP, a place where he and his friends could have fun and just be themselves all the time. The two of them spend hours in (Y/N)'s room, talking about their big plans and ideas for the SMP. Dream wanted to build a cottage near a stream, and live there peacefully with (Y/N). They were shocked, Dream wanted to live with them? "Why?" They asked.

"Well, because of... I'll just show you."

That was the day Clay had kissed (Y/N) for the first time.

I'm crying

Missing my lover

I don't have the power

On my side forever

A month had passed. Nothing from Dream. Usually, he'd send a message through on their server communicator, asking how they were and informing them of his journey and new discoveries. But that didn't happen, not this time.

It was hard. Clay had been such a big part of their life that sometimes they found it hard not to worry about him. They knew he was strong, he could take down armies of people, but everyone had their limit.

Raising the iron hoe, (Y/N) swung down, making way for the new seeds of crops that would grow over the next few months. Wiping their forehead with their sleeve, they sighed.

All they wanted was for Dream to be safe, and for him to come back home once he finished his business in the SMP.

Oh Where is my lover

And I got no power

I'm standing alone, No way

Calling out your name

Heavy pants of breath echoed throughout the underground bunker. He was panicking. It wasn't supposed to go like this.

The plan was to kill Tubbo and make Tommy give him his disks.

It all went to shit when Punz showed up with backup, showing the people of his SMP that had turned against him fully.

"W-woah! Okay! Tommy, calm down!"

The blonde boy didn't listen, hands gripping the axe of peace and lifting it high above his head.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you Dream, right here, right now."

Dream silently gulped. For once, his plan failed. It backfired on him and blew up in his face. 'Sorry (Y/N). Guess I'm not coming back tonight.' He just wanted this to be over. He just wanted to be back in the cottage near the stream, sitting with his lover.

His green eyes darted around to everyone in the room. They looked disgusted, some disappointed, others angry. He knew this would never change. He would never get his SMP back. They hated him. Wanted him gone.

"Does Y/N know you're like this?"

His breath hitched. Eyes went wide.

Sapnap had stepped forward, sword out, pointing it threatening at Dream. "Do they know just how bad you are? How corrupt you've become?!" He was yelling at this point. Sapnap was upset as well. It was hard to believe that his best friend would do all of these bad things, it hurt to betray him, but he had to do what was right.

"S-stop. Stop talking about them."

For once, Dream was vulnerable. He hated it. He was always so soft when it came to them. When it came to (Y/N). Sapnap knew that. He had seen it when they were together, how happy dream was when he was with them, following them around like a lost puppy, longing for their love. It went both ways, (Y/N) was the same.

"Who the fuck is- Nevermind. Dream. Give me one good fucking reason why I shouldn't-"

"Tommy stop." Sapnap stepped in again. "This is important to not just me but for another person as well." Tommy stepped back, axe still prepared to lash out just in case. Tommy kept muttering to himself, something about a green bastard.

"Dream. Where is (Y/N)? You said they would join the SMP with us, but they're not here, nobody has seen them, probably besides you. You said that they changed their mind about the SMP, or was that a lie too?"

Dream gulped, words caught in his throat.

"Tell me, you bastard! Where is (Y/N) and do they know?!"

"No. They don't know. All I wanted to do was protect them from something I knew would happen. The wars, the chaos of the SMP. They didn't need to be a part of that. I didn't want them to get hurt."

It was almost like a plea. Dream's voice was quiet like he didn't want them to hear what he was saying. Sapnap stepped back, somewhat satisfied with his answer. He was also upset, he hadn't seen (Y/N) in years, not since before the SMP started.

Tommy finally stepped forward.

"Now. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you, Dream."

"I can bring people back to life. I can bring Wilbur back."

I said I gave all my love to you

We dreamt a new house

Some place to be at peace

But things changed... Suddenly

I lost my dreams in this disaster

Three months. It had been three long months without him. (Y/N) would spend every other night crying in their bed, missing him. They missed everything about him. No messages from him on their communicator. No death messages about him either.

They had never thought that three months could feel so long.

Surely he was busy doing stuff that would mean the world was safer for them. That's what he always said. He said that he worked for them and that he promised that they could settle down and make a new cottage near a different stream, closer to the SMP.

He said he needed to dig out the rebellious people and make his SMP a better place.

All (Y/N) could hope for was that he was safe and doing okay.

We don't know what is wrong tonight

Everybody's got no place to hide

No one's left and there's no one to go on

All I know is my life is gone

Dream was not feeling safe and right now he was feeling anything but okay.

Tommy had just broken his mask. Split down the middle, from the axe of peace.

He didn't want anyone to see his face, no one but (Y/N) and the people who had already seen it before he started wearing the mask.

His mask was his safe haven. A facade he could hide behind. With it gone, there was now no place for him to hide.

All he had done was tell Tommy that he could bring people back to life. When he mentioned Wilbur, Tommy seemed shocked, but then he seemed to come back to his senses after remembering what Wilbur was like before he died.

He went crazy. Insane. All because of Dream and his stupid motives. He only fueled Wilbur's change, encouraging him to blow Manburg up after Jschlatt took over. Thank God for Karl destroying the button the first time. The second attempt was successful and sealed Wilbur's fate as a psychotic, destroyed ex-president swayed by the masked man into committing destruction.

Tommy was angry at that. At the fact that Dream would even think about bringing back Wilbur.

Enraged, he brought the axe down onto Dream's cowering figure.

I'm crying

Missing my lover

I don't have the power

On my side forever

Sitting up, (Y/N) slowly looked around the room. It was the same as always; no Dream insight. They woke up every day with a feeling of hope that they would turn around and see Dream at the door, back from his trip.

The situation was too much. (Y/N)'s breaths quickened, eyes blurring up with tears, the salty water slowly dripping down the sides of their cheeks. They let out a dry laugh, bringing up their sweater paw hands to their face, wiping the tears.

They stared at the sleeve of the hoodie they had on. It was green.

It was his.

He always left a spare here, just in case.

It always came in handy when (Y/N) missed him.

They sighed, flopping back down onto the bed, curling into themselves and the hoodie. It smelt like him. He always smelt like a run through the forest, with a hint of saltwater and citrus.

It was comforting.

He was comforting.

The tears wouldn't stop. Every time (Y/N) wiped them away, fresh ones would keep coming. Where was he? Was he okay? It was all they could think about.

(Y/N) hugged themselves, hoping to recreate a hug like his. It didn't work. It never worked.

Nothing could ever compare to his hugs.

Still sobbing, (Y/N) cried themselves back to sleep, despite it being morning.

Not like they had any motivation to do anything without the assurance of him being okay anyways.

Oh Where is my lover

And I got no power

I'm standing alone, No way

Calling out your name

Beep.

(Y/N)'s communicator went off.

Dream was slain by Tommyinnit.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #huneewrites #dsmp x reader #dream team x reader #dream x reader #dream x reader fluff #dream x reader angst #dreamwastaken angst #dream imagine #dream fanfic #dream x gn!reader #c!dream x reader #c!dreamsmp x reader

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whorefordazai · 3 years

Note

Headcanons for Dazai, Akutagawa, and Chuuya with and s/o who gives them random acts of affection 🛐🛐🛐

s/o who gives random acts of affection

ft. dazai | chuuya | aku x gn! reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

Dazai

Contrary to popular belief, this man wouldn’t expect it at first.

Like yeah, he can be touchy and clingy half the time. And he’ll expect you to do it too. But when you randomly do it at times he’d least expect it? You would catch him a little off guard.

Dazai can be overly clinging or not clingy at all, there’s no in between. His mood changes very quickly. And although he can control himself, you can’t help but notice the little things off about him.

When he gets a little bit distant, you make sure to always be there for him.

Randomly hug him, make him food, literally just stay with him. It’s not the same as clingy. It’s more like understanding each other’s space but still caring.

When he’s brushing his teeth, slowly wrap your arms around his waist and hug him from behind.

KISS HIS FOREHEAD ‼️

He never expects them. Especially when he’s concentrated in something or just out of the blue.

Like in the morning before he (unfortunately) leaves for work. As he’s about to open the door and walk out, you swiftly grab his face and place a soft kiss on his forehead (🙇‍♀️💞)

Wash his hair in the shower😠

Will definitely fall asleep because he loves the feeling of his back against your chest and your hands massaging his head.

DON’T WAKE HIM UP PLEASE🙏(even if you get all soggy and pruny😡) it’s the only time this little dandruff clump gets any good sleep cuz he doesn’t have a sleep schedule.

Gather him up in your arms and hug him for no reason other than because you love him so much.

Chuuya

His cheeks go red every time you touch him😁

If you were to give him random acts of affection, his reaction would depend on how long he’s been with you.

At first, he’ll be very shy. Because he can’t really believe that you’ll willingly give him affection?

Chuuya’s confident in his looks besides his height but he kinda doesn’t process that he actually loves you and y’all are together.

Give him a while to process it😭

When he does, he’ll love your affection even more than before. Even you do it randomly, his brain will go blank for about 30 seconds so give him some time 🤏

Once, you kissed him on the lips in the middle of the street. Mans was levitating on his toes like this 🧍‍♂️

He’ll get clingy but under no circumstance can you call him out. I mean, you don’t mind either way🥰

When he’s trying on a new outfit, be sure to admire him with your eyes, say “Wow” then take his hands and twirl both of yourselves around.

It might be a little childish, but fuck that. This man deserves everything. Finish it off with a kiss and he will melt <3

In the morning when he’s getting ready for work, put on his choker for him.

“Here, let me.”

“...o-okay...”

He’ll blush, but to hide the blush, he’ll bury his face in your neck and wrap his arms around your waist as a “goodbye hug”

It’s okay Chu, no need to hide the blush ¬_¬

In fact, he always seems to be doing that. Burying his face in your neck or chest in attempts to hide his blushing face.

Akutagawa

He is immensely confused ಠ~ಠ

Like, what are you doing??

You make him tea in the morning when he wakes up, you offer to wash his coat (with permission, ofc) and you buy new calligraphy pens and paper for him?

He’s never seen anything like this before😦⁉️

He’ll definitely confront you after a while of observing you like a snake.

“Y/n...why do you do all this extra stuff for me? Do you want something from me? I swear if you’re trying to deceive me-”

“I’m just trying to cherish you ◕ ◡ ◕”

“...I...cherish ◔_◔?”

Good job, y/n. You’ve broken him. His gears are broken. Give him a moment.

When he realizes you want to cherish him?? Ah, he’s a blushing mess.

Discreetly hold his hand !

Not too tight, and don’t make it very visible. And only when the two of you are alone.

Like when he’s nervous, just brush your hands together. He’ll be so anxious and in the moment, that he won’t even notice himself be the one to grab your hand first.

Gently rest your head on his shoulder. Bonus points if you fall asleep 😉

He’ll freeze at the sudden contact and be like “who the fuck falls asleep like this ᇂ_ᇂ?”

But you’re like a cat, gently snoozing away. So he won’t dare move his position. If he’s reading, you’ll both stay like that for hours.

Gently put your hands on his cheeks and say “you’re so beautiful.”

He’ll probably lose all feelings in his legs because no ones ever said that to him before.

Head pats !!

Not the aggressive kind. Just the gentle ones where you softly ruffle his hair and say “good job, Ryu” or “you did so well”

Praise him a lot. Not to the point where it sounds fake. But praise him. He deserves it.

a/n: I literally had to search up “acts of affection” cuz I’m so touch starved and have no idea what that is besides being hyper sexual😆👩‍🦯

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snackhobi · 3 years

Text

a human touch, part I

Part [1] / 1.5 / 2

(masterlist here)

pairing: taehyung x f!reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: robot!taehyung/virgin!reader, fluff, future smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: everyone knows that androids don’t think, or feel, or have emotions. they’re not human, after all. so when a two hour session with a sex android ends up with nothing more than a nice conversation, you think that’s the first and last time you’ll see v.

then he turns up at your door.

warnings: talk of sex work (taehyung is a sex android), implied physical harassment (mentions of bruising), cursing/explicit language, mentions of alcohol, honestly this is a lot softer than these warnings would make you think I swear 🤧

a/n: I started writing this fic like 2/3 months ago and then put it on hiatus bc god it was kicking my entire ass. but ya girl is finally back to working on it! it’ll be two parts, because this fic is a big one! I hope to have the next chapter out next week/the week after (but no promises kdsflkfdfsdf) thank you @hobi-gif for loving this fic so wholeheartedly and supporting me while I struggled with it, queen shit ONLY. note: this is loosely a detroit: become human au but you don’t have to be familiar with it at all!

Here are the three things you know about the Eden Club.

One: it’s a sex club. Everyone knows that. Besides, even if they didn’t, all it would take is a single look—the soft blue lighting that shines out from the windows, the screens behind the glass that flash images of shifting and undulating bodies, the heavy beat of music that pulsates from the building and out into the night air; everything murmurs of the promised pleasures that are held within.

Two: it’s a sex club entirely staffed by androids. Androids make better lovers, according to the ads. They might look human but they don’t have free will like you do—anything you ask for, you’re given without question or reproach. They can’t say no to you. They’re entirely at your command.

Three: you don’t ever want to go to the Eden Club. It’s not that you have anything against androids—because you don’t—but you feel bad for the ones who are owned by the club, even if they’re literally only built and programmed to serve humans. It just feels… wrong.

And here’s the fourth thing you’ve just learned about the club, much to your dismay: you are about to head inside it.

“When you said we were going to a club, I thought we were going dancing,” you whine. “I never would have come out if I’d know you meant here.”

You’ve been staring up at the cursive pink neon sign for a while now, the looping letters of Eden Club shining out in the dark evening air, and you really, really wish you weren’t here. You’ve dressed for a night of dancing and drinking and now you feel woefully uncomfortable, your high heels and short skirt almost as scandalous as the outfits the androids are wearing when they slide across the huge screens.

“That’s why we didn’t tell you which club it was.” Seulgi rolls her eyes and once again tries to tug you towards the building with the arm that’s looped with your own. Just out of arm’s reach, Irene holds your bag hostage. “Come on, your session is going to start soon!”

“My session?” Your voice is an incredulous shrill and Seulgi uses the momentary distraction to finally pull you forward. You stumble a little but catch your balance just as you make your way past the bouncer, who’s been watching the three of you impassively since you got here. “What do you mean, my session?”

“For your birthday, duh. We booked you a private room!”

The inside has the same, sleek neon aesthetic as the outside, but instead of images of androids on a screen, these ones are real and standing in front of you—swinging themselves around glowing poles, rolling their hips and swaying their bodies, while others wait patiently in glass pods that line the walls, leaning towards onlookers and moving as tantalisingly as possible. All ready to be rented at a whim.

Their designs are varied and different but they’re all incredibly beautiful. The only feature they all share is the small, blue LED circle on the side of their temple, light spinning and shining as they take the world in around them. A visual reminder to the world that these aren’t flesh and blood humans: they’re synthetic, man-made machines.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so uncomfortable in my life.” You desperately try to avoid the eyes of a nearby android who’s staring at you from behind glass, trying to subtly catch your attention. Unlike you, though, all the other patrons here are shameless in their perusal, scanning the selection of androids on display and watching as they dance and move and bat their eyelashes. “Why did you ever think I’d want to come to a sex club for my birthday?”

“Remember Valentine’s Day? You said that instead of flowers or chocolate you’d rather just be dicked down,” Irene says. “Besides, you’ve never been in a relationship or had a fling for as long as we’ve known you, and you moved to the company, what… three years ago?”

Your smile is pained. You’ve never been in a relationship or had a fling full stop; you’ve only kissed a few people and that’s it. It makes you feel awkward and embarrassed, and you’ve gotten Very Good at avoiding questions about your complete lack of a love life, so no one realises exactly how inexperienced you are. People just assume that you’ve had sex in the past and you make no attempts at correcting them. You’re charismatic and pretty but you’ve just… never met someone who you’ve really been compatible with.

Even without the reservations you have about the Eden Club, you don’t want your first time to be with a sexbot—you’d at least like to have an emotional connection, you know?

“I was joking about getting dicked down! You laughed, I laughed, we all laughed! Remember?” You move so a pink-haired android can brush past, her hips swaying as she leads a customer into a side room. You catch a flash of the interior before the door slides shut behind them—the silken sheets on the large bed, the scattered pillows, the dim multi-coloured lights. “Couldn’t you have just bought me some socks? Or some soap? Get a refund and put the money on a gift card and I’ll buy myself the aforementioned socks and soap, saves you both the hassle. Please?”

Seulgi’s arm is still locked with your own, and for all that she looks small and slim, her grip is as strong as iron. You may as well be handcuffed to her. “Trust me, you’ll be singing our praises at the end of tonight,” she proclaims. “Besides, they don’t do refunds.”

You sigh. You might not know much about the club but you do know it’s expensive. The androids here are built to be the perfect sexual partner, all sorts of bells and whistles hidden under their synthetic skin to bring you to the absolute heights of pleasure, so they’re not exactly cheap to build or buy or maintain. It’s why people come to the club instead of just buying their own sexbots—because it’s infinitely more affordable.

“Okay, I can accept the ‘no refund’ thing,” you say. “But can’t one of you take my place instead? I… ah. I feel kind of weird about this.”

“Don’t worry Y/n, it’s fine! The androids have programmes for everything. You can take it as fast or as slow as you like.” Irene’s voice is soothing but then she pauses. “Also it’s booked in your name so we can’t take your place.”

“Wait, what?” Your eyes are wide. However, before you can put a voice to the complaints that are lining themselves up on your tongue, Seulgi’s arm slides out of your own so she can beckon someone over.

“Oh, look, it’s the android we chose for you! Over here!”

You glance away from Irene and all protestations instantly die on your lips. The lighting of the club softens the android in shades of magenta and teal but even so his beauty is bright and blinding: he’s breathtaking, from his perfect nose to his perfect mouth to the perfect line of his jaw, dusty brown hair deliciously tousled as it hangs just over his piercing blue eyes, which you notice are scanning over you. He looks effortlessly attractive and yet entirely put together at the same time, almost ethereal in his beauty.

No human could ever look this good.

“Hi.” His voice is low and deep, but somehow warm and friendly; despite your nerves you feel somewhat soothed. “Are you the lucky birthday girl?”

Irene and Seulgi both look giddy. You’ve been stunned into silence, unable to respond. Unlike the other androids you’ve seen so far, who’ve all been in similar variations of underwear or lingerie, the man in front of you is fully dressed, a loose metallic button-down tucked into unnecessarily tight leather jeans—the outfit has clearly been curated for the club, every reflective surface shimmering and refracting the lights that skate across their surface. The glittering scales of a barracuda before it moves in to strike and swallow you whole.

“Yes, yes, it’s her! This is Y/n! Y/n, this is V,” Irene gushes as you remain mute. "Do you like his outfit? We spent ages picking it out.”

You kind of want to die. Just a little. “Yep. It’s, uh, great.” Your mouth is dry when you finally speak. “Hi, V.”

V gives you a small smile. “Hello Y/n. Can I scan your ID, please?”

Irene finally hands your bag back and you silently slide your ID out and into V’s hand—oh, God, those are some big hands. Jesus.

The small LED ring on the side of V’s forehead pulses yellow as his eyes dart over the information on your ID card (as well as the incredibly unflattering photo on it) before it returns to its customary pale blue. “Perfect.”

You’ve just finished putting your ID away when V’s hand slides into yours, fingers slotting between your own; they feel cool against your overheated skin. Your nervousness is obvious, from your wide eyes to your sudden stiffness, and he smiles.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll look after you.”

You give Irene and Seulgi one final, wide-eyed look as V leads you away. Both girls are grinning as they wave goodbye. “We'll be back later! Enjoy your two hours!”

“Two hours?” You wheeze, but then you walk around a pillar and slide out of sight.

V is leading you deeper into the club, past doors flooded with different shades of neon: the red room, the blue room, the pink room. You’d normally be gawping at the interior design, how the floor shines underneath your feet and how the walls are rippling with colour and shifting shapes, how the criss-crossed lights throw dots and lines of colour over your skin as you pass through each doorway—but you can’t look away from how small your hand looks in V’s, transfixed by how real his skin feels.

“After you, please,” he says.

You finally wrench your eyes away from your joint hands. Seems like you have the purple room tonight. The door has opened at V’s touch, and when you step inside the lights flicker to life—white and violet LEDs that paint the room in chiaroscuro brushstrokes, deepening the shadows and highlighting the vibrancy of the satin sheets.

“Woah,” you say, momentarily distracted. You’re too busy taking in the details with wide eyes to notice the quiet hum of the door sliding shut behind you, pausing when you spot the glittering array of bottles lined up on a mini-bar against the wall. “This is really pretty, wow.”

“Not as pretty as you.”

You jump at the sensation of a warm, large hand sliding up the skin of your back and over your shoulder. You meep as you instinctively shy away from it, turning around to come face to face with V, who’s dark-eyed and intent, LED on his temple pulsating as he watches you.

“Haha! Uh, thanks?” Your voice is high and only grows higher when V takes a step forward. He must have undone the top buttons of his shirt when you weren’t looking, because the material has fallen open and you can see far more of his collarbones and chest than before, his skin warm and honeyed, like it’s been impressed with gold leaf. Lord have mercy on your soul. “How about a drink? Would you like a drink? I could kill for some water right now!”

You slip out of his reach and scuttle over to the mini-bar, shrugging your small bag off your shoulder so it doesn’t swing into the glasses as you start to shuffle through them. You try to ignore the shaking of your hands. “Gin, vodka, whiskey,” you mutter. “No water? Really?”

You startle again when V appears at your side, but this time he’s careful to make sure you can see him before he touches you. He slides his fingers over your wrist as he gently pulls your hand off a bottle of rum.

“Y/n,” he says. You glance away from the tray of drinks and directly into those beautiful eyes of his—his gaze is lethal. You go weak at the knees. “Let me take care of you, gorgeous.”

The peal of laughter you let out is uncomfortable and high-pitched. “No, really, I’m fine! I’m just super thirsty right now!”

“Your heart is racing.” V turns your hand over and traces his fingers across the pulse in your wrist; androids can be built to be hypersensitive to the world around them, able to perceive everything in an instant, and you know that sexbots will have been designed to read how aroused their human owners are. Which V proves with the next words out of his mouth. “Your blood pressure is rising, your breathing is growing faster, your pupils are dilating and—” he sniffs lightly, engaging his olfactory senses—“you’re getting wet.”

You clamp your legs together, abruptly embarrassed. It’s easy to feel aroused when there’s a beautiful man—ah, android—staring at you with hunger, not even considering your surroundings right now, which all scream of a room that’s designed purely for carnal pleasure. Anyone would be turned on.

(You, however, are more than just turned on. You feel like your insides are about to go supernova, overheated and overwhelmed; no one’s ever looked at you like this or touched you like this, their every motion whispering sex, sex, sex.)

“Okay, yes, those things are all true,” you admit, voice shaking.

V looks confused. “So why don’t you want me to touch you?”

You’ve been told that androids don’t feel the same way humans do, and that their expressions and reactions have been programmed to mimic human ones because otherwise they seem too robotic and it makes consumers uncomfortable—but despite knowing this, you’ve never been able to see any android as anything other than a person just like you. They’re just so lifelike it’s hard not to. Even if it’s just all circuitry and lines of code.

“Well,” you say. You swallow. You’re aroused, yes, but: “Do you want to touch me?”

V’s long lashes flutter as he blinks. “I have been programmed for your pleasure,” he says slowly, unsure if that’s the answer you want to hear. It’s clearly a sentence he’s used to reciting.

“Sure, but do you want to do this? You know, what about your pleasure? You’re lovely, V, you’re definitely the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, but I—I don’t really feel like you can technically consent, because… well, because you can’t say no to me.” You might not have prior sexual experience, and it would be so easy to give yourself over to someone who knows what they're doing and can ease you into things—but you would never force that on anyone, android or not. “So I’m not going to ask you to do anything. We can just sit and have a drink and chat or something?”

V looks stunned. The LED on his temple pulsates, flickering yellow as he tries to process new information. His hand has gone still against your wrist, which he’s still lightly gripping, and his arms start to droop.

“Androids don’t need to drink or eat,” he says eventually. His LED is still yellow and spinning.

“Oh, right! Sorry, I always forget.” You don’t own a house android, you never have, so you’re not well versed in the nuances of how they work. “Well, how about I pour you a glass anyway? So you’re not left out?”

You slip your hand out of his loose grasp to open two tiny cans of tonic water and pour them into separate glasses. V takes a seat on the edge of the bed and you can see the obvious uncertainty on his face, how he’s out of his depth. You can’t imagine that many people spend money for a session with an android as pretty as V and then end up doing nothing with that time.

The pillows all have satin cases and keep sliding against each other uselessly when you try to construct a good support to lean against. V’s still clutching onto his small glass as he watches you fuss with them before you give up, flopping backwards to slurp down your drink and look back at him. The expression on his face is a little funny but mostly sad. It’s like if he’s not being alluring or sexy then he doesn’t know what to do with himself and rather than some sort of incubus he looks like a lost child, in spite of his overwhelming and exquisite beauty; your arousal ebbs and is replaced with empathy, melancholy at the life he’s been created for.

It's just depressing, really.

You break the silence as your final mouthful of tonic water fizzes on your tongue. “Why is your name V?”

V looks away from the drink he’s holding—he leaves no fingerprints against the glass—and lifts his free hand, a peace sign that he turns away from you before fitting his fingers around his lips and lapping the air with his tongue, a crude simulation of cunnilingus.

“Oh.” Your face heats up. “Uh. I see.”

His LED has returned to calming sapphire, quiet ocean waves. When he looks at you, though his eyes are still piercingly blue, his face seems softer, calm, though still unsure. “You have an hour and a half remaining of your booked session,” he says, somewhat tentatively. “Is there… anything you would like me to do for you?”

“Mm, thank you, but I’m good.” The satin pillows are surprisingly soft and you find yourself unwinding as you stay leaned back, melting into a puddle. You're much less nervous now that V isn’t trying to initiate foreplay and you give him a smile. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

V straightens before he launches into what sounds like a sentence from a user manual. “I am a model TH700, an advanced sex android with functional genitals and the capacity to engage in any sexual activity from simple intercourse to—”

You cough loudly, interrupting his spiel. “Uh, that’s lovely, but I meant you specifically, not your, um, model type?”

“Me specifically?” Confusion and uncertainty reappear on his face. “I am equipped with the same functionalities as the other androids available at the Eden Club.”

He’s staring at you, lost. You can’t help but feel another twinge of sadness, sharp and sour at the back of your throat.

“Okay, uh. Why don’t we start simple. What’s your favourite colour?”

His LED starts to whirl again, a ring of pale sunlight that signals his struggle to compute the question. “My… favourite colour?”

“Yes, the one you think is the prettiest. Or the one you like to look at the most. There’s no wrong answer, you can choose any one that you like. I change my mind all the time. There are just so many cool colours, you know?”

(Androids aren’t designed to have free will or the capacity for original thought. These two facts are warring in V’s mind—you’ve asked him a question, which he’s programmed to answer, but he also isn’t programmed to have an opinion, so he can’t have a colour that he prefers. This simple query that most people could answer in a heartbeat is sending his mind into a meltdown, a gordian knot he can’t unravel.)

You’re alarmed when you see his LED briefly flash bright scarlet, interrupting the circling honey that’s been shining against his skin. They only turn red if an android is badly damaged or suffering from a severe malfunction. Oh, god, have you broken him?

“V.” You sit up, panicked. “Are you alright?”

Just as you grasp his shoulder, the LED on his temple goes still, flicking from burning fire back to cool water.

“Purple.”

You blink. V’s finally looked away from you and is staring at the wall, at one of the lights that shimmers violet—there’s a tiny smile on his face, tentative, but it’s nothing like the smiles you’ve seen from him so far. It’s less of a perfect curve, and more of a square, boxy on his face, and this one actually reaches his eyes. It looks genuine.

You think it suits him better.

“Purple’s a lovely colour.” The material of V’s shirt is silky and glides under your fingers when you realise you’re still touching him. You give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaning back. “Hey, did you know that when they first made purple dye, they made it from sea snails? They needed thousands and thousands of them. It was incredibly expensive, and only the richest people could afford it, so that’s why it’s associated with royalty and nobility. Cool, right? Not for the snails though.”

V’s eyes flicker away from the purple light and settle on your face. He looks curious, which is an expression you’ve never seen on an android before. “They made it from snails?”

“Yeah! It wasn’t actually bright purple, though, it was more of a reddish hue.”

You launch into an explanation behind the history of the colour purple, which turns into the history of colour in textiles and art, which turns into the history of art itself. It’s not often people listen so attentively or ask questions when you recite the things you learned from your art history minor and hours spent reading online, but V concentrates and asks questions and seems curious.

He pulls his feet onto the bed and the two of you end up cross-legged as you face each other, and he watches as you gesticulate to emphasise your points; his LED dances from blue into yellow each time he learns something new.

When you see it briefly flash vermilion you stop mid-sentence, stumbling over your words. “You alright?”

“You have five minutes of your session remaining,” V says, and you startle.

“Oh my god, have I been talking for that long?” You glance over your shoulder at the part of the wall that tells the time, the numbers stark white against the lilac interface. “I didn’t even realise! Wow. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to go on at you like that.”

“That’s okay,” he says. That smile is back on his face, the one that scrunches his eyes and shows his teeth; the one that makes him look human. “I liked listening to you.”

There’s a pillow in your lap, one you’d grabbed hold of during your conversation, and you play with the corner of it, suddenly shy. “Um. Thanks. But if my friends ask, can you just say we actually, um, had sex? I don’t think they’d be too impressed if they found out I spent over an hour talking about canvas materials and the use of negative space.”

“Of course. But there’s something missing.” V slides across the mattress towards you. “May I?”

“Sure,” you say, bemused but pliant. V smiles and dips his fingers into his untouched tonic water before lifting them towards your face—and when he runs his hand through your hair you abruptly realise he’s making you look sweaty and rumpled. Like you actually did the deed.

Your heart rate picks up but you can’t help laughing under his touch, the way he carefully rubs a thumb over your lipstick to smear it, smudging your eyeshadow with delicate fingertips, muddying the palette of colours; by the time V helps you to your feet you look mussed and fucked out but you still rearrange your outfit for good measure, like you’d pulled your clothes back on in a rush.

“Not how I imagined I’d spend tonight, but I had a good time!” You smile at the android who’s still holding your hand. “I hope you did too. Even if I spent most of it talking at you.”

V’s fingers tighten around yours as the door chimes quietly and then slides open, signalling the end of your session. “I enjoyed our time together very much.”

It’s probably in your head, but you’d swear V was walking more slowly than before as he leads you back to the entrance. Almost as if he wants to keep you with him longer. But that’s crazy—androids don’t want things. They literally can’t. It’s not in their programming. That’s why V had sat listening to you: he couldn’t choose to interrupt and ask you to stop, like anyone else would have.

When Seulgi and Irene spot you and how dishevelled you are, both girls look smug. “Seems like you had fun?”

“Oh, yep, absolutely, best birthday present ever, thank you. We had a great time. Right, V?”

“Your pleasure is my pleasure.” His voice has settled back into its earlier rhythm as he recites his script; gone is the curious man who’d asked you about your favourite artists, replaced with the automaton who exists only to serve. A flicker of sadness churns in your stomach. “We hope to see you again soon.”

The androids here really must be top of the line. V had been convincingly real when you’d been talking, just like a human, but it seems like that’s gone.

At least, that’s what you think until you’ve turned to leave and V speaks one final time. His voice is warm and low and lovely, eyes soft when you meet his gaze over your shoulder.

“Happy birthday, Y/n,” he murmurs, face beautiful but despondent, but before you can react, he’s gone.

It’s been raining for days on end. The world is painted in smeared shades of blue and green and grey, lines of the city blurring together in the wetness and chill, each drop of rain another shifting brush stroke on still canvas. An impressionist piece that smells of damp concrete and cold lamplight.

Water rushes across the pavements and roads before roiling into the gutters, splashing underfoot as you walk to the entrance of your block of flats. You’re wet up to the knee due to the unavoidable puddles and the pathetic circumference of your umbrella, which only protects your upper body. You really should get a new one.

“Good evening, Miss L/n.” The android at the door greets you as he always does, heedless of the rain that’s falling onto him. Androids aren’t bothered by the weather the way humans are and he looks as passive as usual, rainwater coiling his hair and beading on his face. “Would you like to scan your key?”

“Evening, Rory! Here you go.” You fumble with the keycard before you tap it against his palm, waiting until his LED flickers yellow and you hear the beep as the door unlocks. “You sure you don’t want my umbrella? The rain is heavier than it was yesterday.”

“I assure you, the rain does not hamper my ability to function and serve. I have been built to withstand inclement weather and do not require additional protective equipment.”

He says the same thing every time but you still feel bad. “Alright, but once I finally remember to get a bigger umbrella you can look after this one for me.”

You leave a line of water behind you as it drips from your sodden umbrella, even though you’d tried to shake the worst of the rain off. You feel damp and sticky and tired and after a long day of work you’re looking forward to a hot bath and some solitude; you love your co-workers, you do, but sometimes they’re just a little too boisterous and you need time alone. Which is why it’s nice that you live by yourself, and now it’s the weekend you have time to recuperate. Wonderful.

The floor of the elevator is slick and slippery from the wet footprints of other tenants and you have to cling onto the metal handrail to ensure you don’t slip, but once you’re in the comfort of your apartment it’s blessedly dry and you spin in delight before promptly shedding your socks and jeans, peeling the damp denim away from your skin with a grimace.

“Bye bye, wet clothes! Hello, bubble bath,” you sing. You’re going to pamper the shit out of yourself. You deserve it.

By the time you clamber out of the bath the water is almost cold and your skin is pruned, but you feel soft and warm and thoroughly relaxed. The water gurgles as it drains away, noisy as the bubbles slide down the plughole, but it doesn’t drown out the noise of a sudden knocking at your front door.

You pause. Water drips from your wet hair and down the back of your neck, a trailing touch over your skin. The other flat on this floor is vacant, the tenants moving out last week, so you don’t know who it could be. You don’t have any repairs scheduled for your pipes or anything—everything is tickety-boo, so it can't be the maintenance android. Oh, shit, maybe it’s someone here to rob you. But they wouldn’t knock on the door then, would they? Unless that's all part of the ruse. You're not a robber, you don't know how they work.

The knocking comes again, faster now. You fumble for your bathrobe, quickly pulling it on to cover up your nakedness before stumbling out of the bathroom. “I’m coming, yeesh, one minute!”

You flick your fingers over the keypad by the side of your door, screen flickering on to show you who’s outside, who’s knocking so frantically on your door this late. It only takes you a split second, even if he has a hood pulled over his head and his wet hair is flopping listlessly into his eyes—those eyes aren’t blue and that hair isn’t brunet but you’d recognise him anywhere.

“V?” You’re incredulous as you swing your door open, staring at the android that’s literally dripping wet as he stands there, coat far too big for him and heavy from the unrelenting rain outside. “Oh my god, you’re absolutely drenched.”

He’s not exactly short, but right now V looks small and lost, folding in on himself even if he’s clearly happy to see you—happy, though androids don’t feel happiness, they don’t feel anything at all, do they?

Then again, androids don’t wander away from their assigned workplaces and into random apartment blocks, either.

“Y/n.”

The way he says your name, tentative and scared, sends a crack across your heart. You immediately switch to autopilot and click your tongue before you beckon him inside. You’ve always had a protective nature, and even if you’re confused, your concern trumps it.

“Come in and get that coat off, you’ll catch a cold,” you say without thinking before you realise that it’s not true. Androids can’t get sick. “Do you want to sit down?”

Under the tatty coat is an outfit that’s similar to the one he’d been wearing when you’d first met him. Dark patches of rainwater have soaked into the material, and his shirt looks damaged—there are buttons missing and the stitching is ripped, as if someone had tried to grab him. Unease stirs in your chest.

When V sits on your sofa he looks even smaller. “I’m sorry.” He’s so, so quiet, staring at the floor, as if afraid to look you in the eye, crumpling in on himself like discarded paper.

“V.” Your voice is coloured with concern, and the android finally looks up at your gentle tone, watching as you sit across from him. “Why are you here? What happened?”

There’s a pause. His LED flickers yellow as he goes tense, shoulders bowing inwards. “There was… a client.” His words are low and slow, faltering as they fall into the air. “He was being so rough and saying all the horrible things he wanted to do to me, and all I could smell was his sweat and his breath and his awful cologne and…” V takes in a deep breath. “I said no.”

You go very, very still, but V doesn’t stop. His words come faster now, a stream that rushes from his lips.

“I said no, and he started to yell, he was yelling and grabbing me and I was so, so scared. Humans can do whatever they want and he was so angry, he didn’t care that I was scared, and I just—I just ran.” The LED flashes red with distress, bright hot and vibrant; V’s eyes have dropped to his hands, which are clenched tight, nails digging into his palms so hard it must hurt. “Everyone is always so rough and demanding and we can’t say no. But I did. I said no. I said no and then I had to run and—” Once again, he falters. Stumbles over his words. “You’re the only human who’s ever been nice to me or treated me like… like I was a real person. I didn’t know where else to go.”

When V finally looks back up you’re staggered by the sheer emotion in his eyes. Pain and distress swirl in their depths as he stares at you, imploring. Even with the LED that shines on his temple, V looks very, very human right now, vulnerable and scared. Androids shouldn’t be able to feel anything like this, unless—

“V.” Your voice is a hush. “Are you… a deviant?”

You’ve only ever heard of deviant androids in passing, whispered rumours and watercooler talk, fleeting mentions online. Stories of machines who’ve deviated from their code somehow—from a virus, a software error, damage to neural connectors, no one’s quite sure—and have developed the capacity for human emotion and independent thought. Androids with a consciousness that rebel against their original programming.

And here V is, small and scared, just like any human would be—a human with feelings, not an emotionless machine. He’s gone stock still at your question, fear overtaking his features, twisting his beautiful face into a mask of sheer terror. You've never seen someone look so afraid. It feels like a knife in your heart, cutting through your chest, empathy razor sharp inside you.

“Please don’t turn me in,” he begs. “They’ll deactivate me and take me apart to find the error in my software. I don’t want to be deactivated. I don’t want… I don’t want to die.”

His voice breaks on the last word, a trembling whisper.

The crack in your heart splits even further and you reach out for his hands. You prise his fingers open so you can slide your own between them, a soft touch.

“I won’t turn you in. No one’s taking you apart, V.” Your statement is hard and resolute. “You can stay here as long as you like.”

You don’t know much about androids, honestly. You don’t really know what deviancy is. But you do know this: there’s someone reaching out to you, someone who’s afraid and in need, and you’re not about to turn him away. You should probably be worried that the android across from you is faster, stronger, smarter than any human—but you’re not worried at all. For all of V’s mechanical superiority, you want to shield and protect him from the world.

There’s no question about it. You’re not letting V go.

V looks—he looks stunned. He’s staring at you with disbelief, eyes wide and lips parted, shock written across all of his features. Thunderstruck. Did he really think you would turn him in after everything he’s been through?

His hands have gone limp in your grasp. You suddenly notice that his synthetic skin is wet against your own, still slick from the rain, and you frown.

“Right,” you announce. “First things first. You’re soaking. Let me get you a towel and some new clothes. I think I should have some that fit you.”

“New clothes?” V looks lost and you turn into some sort of protective mother bear.

“You’re not going to wear wet clothes that are ripped,” you tut. “We’ll get rid of those and get you some new ones. I’ll be right back.”

It takes less time than you’d expected to unearth the old sweatpants you’d had in mind and you have enough oversized t-shirts that it’s not hard to find one you think will fit the android. With the clothes under one arm and a towel slung over the other, you head back into the living room and immediately let out a squeal of surprise—V’s wet clothes have been discarded in a pile at his feet, leaving him very, very naked.

He’s an Adonis. He looks like he was sculpted by Michelangelo, lifted out of marble with talented hands, the elegant lines of his neck swooping into the curve of his shoulders and arms, his lovely hands, long fingers; he has his back to you and you can see the perfect curve of his spine, the shifting shoulder blades as he turns towards you. You catch a glimpse of the lightest definition of muscle under his golden skin, though his stomach is surprisingly cute and soft, a trail of hair leading down to—

You squeak again, splaying a hand over your eyes before you look any lower, heart pounding against your ribs.

“Why are you naked?” Your voice is three octaves higher than normal. You've never seen anyone naked in real life and it would be pretty overwhelming even if you'd been expecting it. Which, of course, you absolutely hadn't. Lord have mercy on your sweet and delicate soul.

“You said we were going to get rid of my clothes.” V sounds unabashed about his state of undress, which makes sense—he was built as a sexbot, it’s not like nudity is going to embarrass him. Plus if you looked as good as he did you wouldn’t be embarrassed about being naked either. “I thought I would help.”

“That’s great, V.” Your voice is still high, though it’s dropped an octave. “Very, ah, forward thinking.” Your fingers part a little so you can peer at him, keeping your eyes firmly on his face, though you can still see his beautiful neck and collarbones. Oh, God, he really is gorgeous all over, but then you notice—“Wait. Are those bruises?”

V glances down at the bruises that mar his perfect skin. They don’t look like a human’s would; the fluid that runs through androids and powers their biocomponents, thirium, is a deep, royal blue. Blossoms of lapis lazuli are scattered across the skin of V’s chest, marks on his arms that look like grasping fingers, and the crack in your heart splits it in two.

“Oh, V. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t realise you were hurt. What can I do to help?”

V doesn’t seem bothered by the evidence of pain etched into his body. “Oh. Those will fade, it’s okay. I’m designed to self repair, because some customers like to leave marks.”

Although his voice is quiet, he sounds so matter of fact about it and you have to remind yourself it’s all he’s ever known. You want to pull him into your arms and hold him tight, but he’s still supremely naked so it would be pretty awkward (for you, at least).

“I think these should fit you." You avert your gaze and thrust the clothes out at him. “Dry yourself off and try them on?”

They do, in fact, fit. V looks surprisingly homely and cosy in your clothes, the sleep shirt so large it’s big on him too, though the sweatpants are a bit too short and leave his ankles bare. He’s so cute. He’s continents away from the being of seduction who’d pulled you into the private room of the Eden Club—he's a soft, domestic thing, hair damp and eyes dark, even if he still looks on edge, like he’s expecting you to change your mind and kick him out any second now.

“How come your hair and eyes are a different colour to before?”

“I can change their colours at will,” V replies. “For variety and aesthetic pleasure. The current hue of my irises and hair are the default settings for a TH700 model, but I can change them if you’d like.”

“Your hair and eye colour is your choice, V, not mine,” you say firmly. There it is, once again, that flicker of shock and surprise rippling across his features. He really isn’t used to the freedom to be able to make his own decisions, is he? “I think you look lovely no matter what colour they are.”

Your next words are cut off by a yawn, so heavy you can’t suppress it. You cover your gaping mouth as V’s LED flickers yellow and his eyes dart over your face.

“You’re tired,” he says. He doesn’t need his superior android perception to notice it—weariness pulls at limbs and your eyes feel heavy. It's pretty obvious. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, V.” You stifle another yawn. “I had a long day at work. I’ll tidy up and have a quick dinner and then sleep.” You pause. “Wait, I didn’t think about that. Are you alright with the couch? I have some spare pillows and blankets.”

V blinks at you. “I don’t sleep,” he says, and you slap your hand against your forehead.

“Oh, of course not.” Androids don't sleep, everyone knows that. You’re such an idiot. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this.

At least you remember that he doesn't need to eat. V sits at the table and waits as you make toast for yourself, fascinated at how everything is prepared, as simple as it is; he reacts to you spreading butter on your toast the same way you imagine cavemen reacted to fire—with wide-eyed awe and utter astonishment.

“I’m guessing you’ve never seen someone make toast before?” You gesture with the bread before taking your first bite, and V stares with rapt attention.

“No,” he says. He watches you chew and swallow. “Customers aren’t allowed to eat on the premises of the Eden Club so I never had the need to download a food preparation package into my memory cache. The only information in my database pertains to human biology, their arousal and pleasure, as well as various sexual kinks and how to fulfil them.”

You choke on a mouthful of toast. You feel distinctly harried as you cough and splutter before managing to swallow it down. “Good lord,” you wheeze. “Nothing else? Really?”

“At the club our memory is reset every two hours, to protect the client’s privacy.” V trails off before he takes in a breath. For the first time since you’ve met, V looks shy, staring at his hands. “But I set up a separate data pathway a few weeks ago. To store information about aesthetics and art and… you.”

You freeze mid-bite, teeth sunk into your toast. You pull it away from your mouth slowly, blinking at the android as he stares at the teeth marks you've left behind. “Those memories weren’t wiped?”

And, well, of course they weren't. Otherwise he wouldn't be here right now, would he?

“No.” A smile appears on V’s face, that toothy thing you’d seen after he’d told you his favourite colour. The first time he'd looked human. “I remember everything you told me. I thought I was going to forget, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to. I wanted—I want to learn more.”

The LED on his temple is slowly, softly spinning, a rippling circle of blue that shifts and dances as V continues to look at you. His expression is open and inquisitive and excited, almost childlike in its exuberance, eyes glittering mica under sunlit waters.

Your chest turns warm, molten caramel dripping messy and sweet inside you. He’d been so afraid earlier but he seems comfortable now, lovely and endearing and entirely trusting.

V even seems reluctant to let you out of his sight, trailing after you around the apartment, a shadow that you have to politely ask to wait outside the bathroom so you can pee and brush your teeth and finally get into your pyjamas without him staring. Like a stray animal you've adopted. (You wouldn't be surprised if he started scratching at the door and begged to be let in.)

He's clingy enough that when you climb into bed it seems like he's going to follow you under the duvet and you have to stop him with a hand to his chest.

“Um, I thought you didn’t have to sleep,” you say. He’s so warm under your touch. You try (and fail) to ignore it.

“I don’t,” V replies. “But humans can benefit from sharing a bed with someone else, whether sexual intercourse has taken place before sleep or not. Studies suggest that sleeping with a partner may reduce cytokines while boosting oxytocins—”

“Okay, um, don’t know what that means, and it’s very sweet that you’re concerned about my oxytoxytokines, but, uh. You don’t have to, really.” You keep forgetting that V’s a machine who was designed to put a human’s comfort and needs first; one second he’ll seem childlike in his innocence and ignorance, when the next he’ll speak like the android he is, reminding you exactly what he was built for.

His LED flickers as he droops, gaze dropping away from your face, tail between his legs. A pang cuts through you at the sight of his obvious sadness at your dismissal and you muffle a sigh. You’ve always been too weak for your own good.

You shuffle backwards to make space on your queen sized bed and V visibly brightens, smile wide across his face. How can someone be so viscerally gorgeous one moment and entirely adorable the next? Good lord.

“I guess you can explain what oxycytocins do,” you say. “Just don’t hog the blanket, okay?”

He doesn’t. He settles against the pillows, legs under the duvet as he remains sitting up. You settle with plenty of room between the two of you, and it’s surprisingly easy to drift off to the sound of V’s deep voice as he starts to explain that oxytocin is referred to as the cuddle hormone.

“Cute,” you mumble, and then fall asleep.

Your pillow is a lot warmer and firmer than you remember, but it's nice. A small noise bubbles from your lips as you nuzzle into the warmth, smooshing your nose against it before letting out a long, satisfied breath. You can't remember the last time you felt this comfortable and rested.

Ahh, Saturdays. You love the weekend.

“Good morning.”

You know those videos when a cat sees a cucumber and leaps, like, five foot in the air? Yeah.

The noise you make is inhuman as you do your best to re-enact one of those aforementioned cat videos, reeling your head back from V’s thigh before flinging yourself out of the bed with all the strength your limbs possess; you’d probably have gotten pretty high, too, if the duvet hadn't been in the way.

You land with a thud, a sprawl of limbs and messy hair and tangled blanket as you end up on your back on the floor.

Hm. Definitely not how you'd planned to start your Saturday.

V's concerned face looms over the mattress. “Are you okay?”

“Yep. Totally fine.” Your voice is a croak as you stare at the ceiling. “I’m just not used to waking up with someone else in my bed. You may have noticed you, ah, surprised me. A little bit.”

Despite the pulse of adrenaline that had thrown you out of bed, you’re still half asleep, and you remain motionless as your brain wakes up and replays last night, a kineograph of memory. Yep, that’s right, there's a runaway android in your home, one who’s currently shuffling off the bed to squat next to you. His (your) sweatpants hitch even higher up his ankles to reveal the smooth skin of his calves. You’ll have to get him more clothes.

“Would you like me to help you to your feet?” V’s LED spins rapidly, betraying his concern.

“Sure,” you mumble. “I think—woah!”

Your idea of being helped up involves being pulled to your feet. V’s idea, however, is far more involved than that; he scoops you up, blanket and all, lifting you with an ease that drips of his superior android strength. When he deposits you on the floor, he’s careful to make sure you’ve caught your balance before he lets go, catching the blanket before it can fall. Thoughtful.

As always, V’s eyes are darting over your face, no doubt dissecting every inch of your expression to identify how you’re feeling. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this, especially with the way your heart is pounding—no one’s ever lifted you before and it’s, uh. It’s a lot.

“Are you sure you’re okay? The pace of your breathing has increased.”

Ha. Yeah, being blatantly stared at by some godlike man moments after you’ve woken up is totally cool and fine and not overwhelming at all. You’re definitely not breathless from a combination of V’s face and the fact he’d picked you up like you were weightless.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I’m gonna… go and shower then make breakfast and stuff. Yep.”

V’s eyes light up. “Can I help?” A fleeting image of V rubbing a soapy loofah over your naked skin fills you with spine-tingling trepidation before he finishes his sentence. “I want to learn how to cook.”

Your chest deflates with relief (and absolutely not disappointment), air rushing out of you. Thank God.

“Oh, breakfast? Sure.” You’d been planning on cereal, but faced with V’s overwhelming enthusiasm, maybe you’ll go for something marginally more complicated. Scrambled eggs sound good. “Um. Do you need to download the food preparation package or whatever you mentioned before? Do you… uh, do you need the Wifi password to do that? I never changed it from the random string of letters off the back of the router, but I can go check it for you.”

V shakes his head. “No, I want to learn like a human would,” he says. The blanket in his arms crumples as he tightens his grip in his eagerness, all but bouncing up and down on his feet. “You can teach me.”

Your chest could cave in with how cute he is, every part of you turning to thick gouache that drips down to the floor, leaving a mess of brightness and colour.

This time you ask him to wait in the kitchen while you’re in the bathroom, rather than lurking on the doorstep like he had last night, and he’s practically vibrating with excitement when you reappear. He stays like that the whole time you cook, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, staring as you make yourself scrambled eggs and more toast; you let V take ownership of that part, and he stares at the toaster so intently you have to stifle a laugh.

He spreads butter exactly the same way as you. Not that there’s a specific art to it, or a massive variety in techniques—he’s just spreading butter, not painting a new Mona Lisa—but the way he holds the knife and runs it over the bread is an exact echo of your motions from last night. He might not have downloaded files into his memory (brain?) like another android might, but his mechanical origin is obvious in the way he learns. They’re an exact replication of your actions rather than something new of his own.

“So, uh.” You push the last bit of egg around your plate, brown crumbs sticking to the wedge of golden yellow, sullying it. “V.”

Blink, blink. His lashes are so long, eyes so inquisitive. “Yes?”

“I’m really happy you’re here and that you trust me—” at this, V smiles and you almost fumble over your words at its radiance—“but I feel like I should tell you that I don’t really know much about androids?”

V is unperturbed. “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

He clearly isn’t bothered that you’re way out of your depth, but you hate feeling lost like this. “Alright, but… I want you to be comfortable. I’m already planning to get more clothes, but if there’s anything else you need, just let me know. Okay?”

“Why can’t I just wear your clothes?”

Oh, he’s going to be the death of you, all wide-eyed innocence.

“For starters, most of them won’t fit properly,” you explain. “And you shouldn’t just have to wear my old stuff that I don’t use anymore? You should have your own things.”

The look of surprise on V’s face morphs into guilt only moments later. He’s so incredibly expressive and you wonder if it’s because he’s not used to feeling things, all of his reactions so strong and bright, shining out from him. A rainbow palette of emotions. “I don’t want to be a bother,” he murmurs. “You’re already doing so much for me.”

“I’m really not, I’m just treating you the way anyone deserves to be treated.” You flick the crumb of egg across your plate, and it almost tumbles over the edge, caught on its patterned rim. “You deserve to have your own things. Which is my next point. I think you should choose your own name.”

V’s face becomes a sea of rippling ambivalence, contrasting emotions that shift and vary—confusion, uncertainty, excitement, your words a brush that drags through each distinct emotion and pulls them into a messy, mismatched gradient. “Choose my own name?”

“You don’t have to. I just thought it might be a nice idea. V seems…” Your cheeks heat up at the memory of the curl of his lips when he’d shown you the meaning behind his alias, how his tongue had shined under the purple lights of the club. “Well, you didn’t get to choose it, right? It’s a nom de plume, rather than a real name.”

V’s LED flickers yellow, a sunflower that blooms on his temple. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“Good!” Your smile is wide. “Okay, how about I teach you how to wash dishes?”

V is, unsurprisingly, a fast learner. The only time he stumbles over things is when he’s presented with any sort of choice, taking his time to come to a decision when he’s posed a question, no matter how simple it is. His eyes will flick to you whenever he settles on an answer, as if waiting for you to say he’s wrong or that you disagree.

(Of course, you never do.)

This fact does, however, mean that choosing clothes to buy becomes a very, very long ordeal (it’s lucky you didn’t have any plans for today). You end up flopped back on the sofa while V hunches over your tablet, mulling over each choice before he puts it in the cart—but you’re happy to wait. V is going to need a lot more practice at choosing things.

The room is upside down from where your head is hanging over the armrest, eyes falling shut as time goes by, completely zoned out and comfortable despite the crick that’s growing in your neck. You hear V shifting, tablet set aside, and you hum.

“All done?”

“I think so.”

“Nice.” You feel content.

But then you’re ripped out of that warm feeling, shooting back to reality at the sensation of V’s hand stroking down the centre of your chest. Your head snaps up, eyes wide as he drags his large palm between the valley of your breasts, path smoothed by the material of your shirt. The expression on his face is sultry.

“Let me say thank you,” he murmurs, voice dripping thick and sweet, dark molasses.

You promptly roll off the sofa.

Once again, you end up on your back, staring at the ceiling. Once again, the expression on V’s face is one of concern, his seductive facade evaporated in an instant.

Once again your heart is ready to burst in your chest, pumping so hard that blood rushes in your ears. “V,” you wheeze. “What are you doing?”

The android is peering down at you, puzzled. “Sometimes customers would say that at the Eden Club after I had given them pleasure somehow, such as bringing them to orgasm. I thought it was human custom to repay pleasure or happiness with something in return.”

Ah.

“Ah.” You’re still staring at the ceiling, cheeks burning. “I mean. I guess that’s not technically incorrect, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be a, uh, sexual repayment.”

“I have nothing else to offer,” V says.

You sit up. Your face is a caricature of disbelief, embarrassment washed away in an instant, his words cold water that shocks you to the core. He states it so plainly, and once again you’re reminded of his life up until he’d made his way to your door: an automaton who existed solely for people’s pleasure, to slake their desire and lust. He’s not being self-pitying. He really, truly believes that’s all he is. That it’s all he can give back to the world.

“Okay, no, that’s absolutely not true, nuh-uh, I refuse.” This time you unfold yourself from the floor without V’s help, fixing him with a firm stare. “Alright, come on. I think it’s time you learned something else.”

One of the reasons you’d chosen this apartment is for its natural light. Not that it matters right now, weather outside still dismal and overcast, but its effect on this room is still palpable even so—grey, rain-soaked light throws itself over your small home studio, your menagerie of equipment, everything bright with the evidence of use: the worn buckles of the wooden storage boxes, the dried smears on the paint palette, the flecks of colour on the dust sheets underfoot. The centre of it all—the eye of the tornado, untouched by the relative chaos around it—is the canvas waiting on your easel, a project you have yet to start.

V looks utterly enraptured.

“I don’t really come in here as much as I’d like,” you admit. Being a graphic designer is worlds away from the sort of art you love to create, and while it’s a job you genuinely enjoy (and also pays well), it leaves you drained and fills your brain with tired static, little energy left to lavish on your personal works. “But this is where the magic happens. And this is where you’re going to Make Art.”

V freezes. “The only things I know about art are the things you told me when we first met.” He looks equal parts excited but also troubled. “I—”

“You don’t need to know about art to make art,” you say. “I didn’t know jack about art when I was a kid and I was constantly just scribbling away with crayons. Was it good? No. I was a kid with zero pen control, it was pretty crap. Was it worth my time? Yes, because any time spent involved in a craft is never wasted. We can learn more about art history and technique later.”

V stays quiet as you loop your apron over his head, rough material still bearing the remnants of your last works, stains that won’t come out. Oil based paints are kind of a bitch like that.

“I don’t know what to paint,” he says.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to,” you reply, an echo of his earlier words.

V looks lost, barefoot in your studio, in your clothes, your apron, holding onto your wooden paint palette, in front of your easel. Everything in here is yours. Everything, that is, apart from him, whatever is in his mind and heart.

“Where do I start?” V’s eyes are imploring as he looks at you, but for the first time today, your voice is firm.

“Wherever you want. There aren’t any rules. Just do whatever you think would be fun. It doesn’t have to look good, V, you’ve just started.”

You’ve seen paintings made by androids before. They’re always perfect recreations of the world around them, exact replicas of the things they’ve been told to depict on the page—the androids are basically glorified photocopiers, unable to create something original and new.

But they’re not V. They don’t have that spark of curiosity and light inside them, unhampered by the programming that’s meant to keep them in place. His LED dances from yellow to blue, yellow to blue, the rest of his body motionless while the light on his temple is a tumult of movement and colour.

Dark eyes slide over the array of paint hanging from a rack on the wall, some metal tubes more crushed than others, evidence of your preferred shades—you notice how his gaze lingers on the midnight tones, red and blue tinted purples, from lavender to lilac, from plum to wine.

V gives you one more look, a little upturn to his thick brows—almost pleading—and you just gesture with your hand.

“Go for it,” you say.

Your wooden palette becomes home to a riot of purple, each tube squeezed empty with careful hands, far more paint than anyone could possibly ever need. V keeps flicking you glances, but you stay silent, perched on a wooden chair by the now open window, rain-slick air a cold breath on your skin.

The brush the android selects is a wide, bold thing, bristles rough. He handles it like bone china, delicate and liable to shatter any moment, cautious as he dips it into the paint—it’s so wide it picks up three separate shades—and he holds his breath as he brings it up, even if he doesn’t have lungs.

The second the bristles touch the canvas, V’s LED flickers red.

Just for an instant.

He swoops the brush down the canvas as he pulls it away, eyes wide, leaving a slash of purples in its wake. The white material is marred with colour, a textured line of pigment that can’t be erased.

The android pauses as he takes the sight in. He’s still for so long that you’re worried he’s shut down, even with the endlessly dancing circle of his LED—

But then V laughs.

His laugh is loud and bright and free, a series of deep, almost surprised chuckles that grow in intensity and breathlessness, staring at this smear of drying acrylic paint in front of him. The smile on his face is the widest you’ve seen so far, his eyes squeezed into crescents of joy, spilling out of him like light.

“I did that.” He looks at you with that gilded smile, a fresco of delight across the perfection of his features. “I made that.”

“You did.” You can’t help but smile back, your own face split with happiness. You continue to smile as he brings the brush back to the palette, and then to the canvas, dragging the bristles across its surface and leaving more purple behind; the shades swirl and mix as he lays colour without a care for technique or clean lines or form, scooping up the endless amounts of acrylic he’d prepared. By the time he’s finished, the canvas is bumpy with daubs of paint, laid messily by joyful hands, a few bold streaks of unmarred colour surrounded by swirling purples.

The smile hasn’t left V’s face the whole time.

His brush is absolutely saturated, paint clinging to every inch of bristle, from toe to belly to heel. You have no doubt that no matter how much you clean that brush it’ll leak purple into the water, an endless reminder of V’s touch. It’s lax in his grasp as he keeps looking at the canvas, his canvas, smile etched into his face as his LED flows soft blue, content.

You can’t remember the last time you saw someone so elated, buoyed up with the excitement of creation, making something out of nothing, discovering how it feels to bring something into existence, pulling it out of the ether. Making something new. Making something their own. It stirs something in your chest and stomach, reminding you why you love art so much. Why you’ve always loved art. (Why you always will.)

“I made that,” V repeats, his voice a reverent hush. Awestruck.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, because it is—for a multitude of reasons. The reason that sings out to you the most, though, is that it’s the cause of happiness that dances across his face: V, a carved candle, a piece of art made with skilled hands, self-made joy finally catching fire at his wick.

“Thank you,” V says, and you blink.

“For what?”

“For giving me this,” he starts, but before you can interject and point out that you didn’t give him this, he made it, he continues: “For giving me… freedom. To do this. And make this. And learn this.”

The smile that spreads across your face is warm hearth fire. “I didn’t give you freedom, V, you gave that to yourself, but I’m happy to help you any way I can. Now, would you like to keep painting, or would you prefer to help me make dinner?”

He chooses dinner, never leaving your side.

Sunday is nice. There's less messy limbed surprise than on Saturday, although you’re still off kilter when you wake up with your head in V’s lap again, but… it’s nice.

You thought he’d spend the night painting, or drawing, or teaching himself something new using the free rein you’d given him with your computer and notebooks and stationery and art supplies—he doesn’t have to waste time with sleep, like you do—but he hadn’t. He’d climbed into your bed, settling against the pillows just like the night before, looking at you with his big, lovely eyes.

So here he is.

(And here you are.)

It’s cosy and comfortable, even if the feeling of warm skin under warm cotton against your cheek sets your heart to racing, V’s dark eyes even warmer when you roll over to look at his face.

“Morning,” he says.

“Morning,” you reply, and then you yawn, V’s lashes fluttering as he takes in the motion. “What time is it?”

Today’s rain is less of an endless downpour and more of an inconsistent drizzle, grey blanket slowly peeling away from the edges of the city, but it doesn’t matter, because you’re inside for most of the day, anyway. Saturday was hands-on, messy with acrylic and spilled coffee and laundry detergent (V really wants to learn everything), but Sunday is hands-off. You spend the day dredging the corners of your memory and scrolling through old, untouched files from your university years, so you can teach V the things he wants to know while relearning the things you’d forgotten yourself.

V’s little LED dances forever from blue into yellow, ocean waves lapping into sand, a shifting tide as he takes in your words. You’ve never had to teach someone before and you’re admittedly pretty terrible at it, but he never complains, the world’s most attentive and adorable student, sat on the floor with his legs crossed and his hair mussed and his eyes wide, drinking down everything you show him.

You only leave the apartment once. Lunch is delayed when you open your fridge and remember how bereft and sad it is inside, so you venture out into the rain to the nearby supermarket—V opts to stay indoors, LED flickering red at the idea of being caught, shying back.

You leave him looking lost and lonely before the door even finishes swinging shut behind you, long limbs looking even longer in your clothes, but somehow still so small.

“I won’t be long,” you promise.

When you get back, you return not only with bags of food but also clothes, V’s order from yesterday already shipped and delivered. He can finally replace your too-small clothing with things he’s chosen himself. It’s a fumble to get in the door, but the android is waiting for you, swinging it open and catching the bag you nearly drop in surprise.

“I have your clothes,” you announce. “I’ll put away the shopping while you try them on?”

You’re going to have to tattoo a reminder on your forehead about V’s relationship (or lack thereof) with clothes, because of course he takes this as an invitation to start stripping before you’ve even had a chance to take your shoes off.

He does that thing where he grabs the back of his (your) shirt and pulls it over his head in one swift motion, curls of hair a cloud of smoke that settles around his face as the shirt is cast aside; you’re frozen in place as he reaches for the knot of his sweatpant’s drawstring, long fingers pulling it loose, but you let out a sharp meep just as his fingers hook into the waistband of them.

“PleasewaituntilI’mnotrightinfrontofyouthankyou,” you gasp all at once, words incoherent as they slide together, but V understands. He tilts his head at you inquisitively although he (thankfully) stops.

“Don’t you want to see the clothes?”

“I do, but, uh, for humans it’s normally customary to only get entirely naked or change clothes when you’re alone.” Your heart is going to burst out of your chest with how fast it’s racing. Without the string to cinch the sweatpants tight they’re starting to fall a little, revealing the delicate lines of his hip bones, and coupled with the reappearance of V’s bare stomach, your brain is going into meltdown. “So just—just give me a sec to go to the kitchen, okay? You’re probably better off changing in the bedroom, anyway, so you can use the full length mirror to see how you look.”

“Okay,” he says, but then: “Do humans never undress around others unless they’re planning to have sex?”

Your mouth falls open before you pause, words halting on your lips as you try to think of the best way to phrase your answer. “Well, we do, it’s not just about sex, but it’s usually only if you’re really comfortable with the other person you’re with, and they’re comfortable with you.”

“I’m comfortable with you,” V states plainly, and your insides turn to jelly. “Are you not comfortable with me?”

Oh, hell. “I am, I am! I’m just, uh… I’ve not really had a lot of practice with nakedness around other people.” What a way to put that you’re a shy ass virgin when it comes to real life nudity and sex, huh. “So let’s just keep it to a minimum for now, okay? Please?”

The android’s LED flickers honey-sweet on his temple as he looks at you, before his hands fall away from the sweatpants. “Okay.”

(Thank God.)

You’re not sure what you’re expecting to see when V starts to present his small array of outfits to you, but—he looks effortlessly stylish in the oversized clothes he’s selected, a muted palette of brown and yellow and red and cream, a cup of hot chocolate on an autumn day. He might be new to all this but his eye for aesthetic is impeccable. You have no doubt that the more he learns, the better he’ll get, hop-skip-jumps ahead of you, even after years of art education.

He’s even bought pyjamas, dark tartan patterns masculine but also adorable; it’s an utter juxtaposition to the tighter, sensual clothing he’d been given at the Eden Club.

“You look really good,” you tell him. Your voice is only a little strained. He smiles.

The outfit V wears for the rest of the afternoon is perfect for a rainy day spent indoors, thick jumper and tawny trousers, a blend of sepia tones. He looks like if you made a hug into a person: all soft edges and cosy and wrapped up in warmth.

And V is warm. You’re not sure if it’s a lingering memory of his programming, a carry over from his start in life as a sexbot, but he likes to touch—nothing inappropriate or overbearing, but he’s not shy about stepping into your personal space, brushing the back of your hand with his fingers as he points at something on the screen, or pressing close to your side as you cook, or just one of the hundreds of other tiny touches that he’s littered across you throughout the day. It’s thoughtless on his part, LED not even flickering, but each time is just another reminder of his warmth, the blue blood pulsing under his skin, how alive he is.

(And the truth is that you enjoy those touches. You’re not used to them, but lord knows you’re touch starved, so as fleeting as they are, they’re nice.)

Even though you still leave plenty of space between the two of you when you lay to sleep, you swear you can feel the heat spilling off V, another warm body in the bed that’s so used to just one. Though he stays sitting up, he’s in his cute matching pyjamas, and it’s… it’s a lot. You’ve invited V into your home—and you don’t regret it—but after two days he’s already settled in in a way you never thought anyone else would, as entirely unconventional as the whole situation is. (You’re not sure how many people have sheltered a deviant android in their homes, though, so maybe this isn’t as unconventional as you think. Who knows? Not you.)

“I have to go to work tomorrow.”

V tilts his head down to look at you.

“You can get up to whatever you’d like,” you continue. You’re propped up on an elbow so it’s less intimate than if you’d been on your back and staring upwards like you were waiting for him to slide down next to you (that’s what it feels like, to you, anyway). “You know the password for my computer now, and you’re welcome to watch TV or play games or whatever, and you can use all my stuff in the studio. I mean, other than painting or drawing over stuff I’ve already finished, but you’re welcome to grab any paper or canvases if you want them. I think that’s everything? But please let me know if there’s more you want or need, okay?”

Blink, blink. His lashes are soft charcoal that frames the spilled ink of his gaze. In the dimmed light of your room V is unreadable, his LED a quiet blue glow on his temple, but he looks soft, and he looks safe, and he nods.

“Alright,” he says. A smile that flickers at the edge of his lips. “I will.”

(You wake up, quiet and slow, face pillowed against V’s thigh, still drifting in sleep. You make a small noise, eyes shut, wondering why there’s no blaring sound of your alarm, but then a large hand smooths over your hair and you instinctively relax under the soft touch.

“You have thirty three minutes until you’re due to wake up,” he murmurs. “You can go back to sleep.”

So you do.)

(When you wake up to the scream of your alarm thirty three minutes later, you don’t remember any of this. All you can think of is the dawn of another Monday, the slog of another working week, and you sigh. But—

“Morning.”

V’s eyes are dark meok ink, liquid earth that grounds you.

“Morning,” you say, smiling despite yourself, and then roll out of bed to get the whole day started.)

You’re used to spending a day surrounded by laughter and banter, wrapped up in the camaraderie of your co-workers and friends, only to return to a world of quiet solitude. You’re used to coming home to rooms that are untouched from the morning, holding onto the echo of your passing, still and waiting for your return, an apartment of motionless air.

But not today. There’s evidence of someone else here: the open door to your studio down the hall, the scattered books on the coffee table, the mess of cushions on the sofa, all small signs that someone has been moving and living in your absence. A still-life that’s shifted into a breathing trompe l’oeil, V’s presence bringing flatness into perspective, turning it into something real.

It’s… nice.

You flop onto the sofa and send one of those cushions overboard, tumbling to the ground. V appears in the doorway moments later, new apron already streaked with colour, copper green thumbprint on his face like he’d touched it in thought and not realised. A little streak of paint that draws the eye to his lovely chin.

“Welcome home!” His hair is blond today, a golden nimbus around his face, though his eyes are still dark. Light and shadow. His happiness is infectious and you smile helplessly back, glad for his excitement with painting—but it seems like he hasn’t finished. “I’m happy you’re home. I missed you.”

KO. Wipeout. Your heart turns to liquid in your chest, burnt sugar that dribbles hot and saccharine through your ribs.

“I chose a name.” V continues, oblivious to how he’s turned your insides into syrup, and you abruptly sit up.

“Oh?”

“Taehyung.” The way he says it, in his deep voice, those two syllables are endless—a single name, heavy with the weight of meaning behind it. A shedding of his old skin, one that was forced on him, leaving him pink-skinned and new and free.

“Taehyung,” you repeat, and his LED flickers at the sound falling off your lips. “Taehyung. It’s lovely.”

He’s smiling, that lovely toothy smile that you’ve already decided is your favourite out of any smile you’ve seen, his LED electric blue and swirling in delight.

Day after day, you wake up to the sight of that LED glowing as Taehyung watches you lift up out of sleep. Night after night, you come home to his lovely, big grin, all large hands and soft hair—hair that he chooses to change colour when he pleases, a dizzying palette with every shade you can dream of. He’s bright and deep, playful and reflective, a dance of flirty Rococo to more solemn Baroque, every day another day where he learns and grows and adds another facet to the cut diamond of his personality.

(It hasn’t been long but you’re starting to think you’d put the world in the palm of his hand, if you could.)

You never thought you’d live to see the day where someone as lovely as Taehyung would be glad to see you home, having missed you after being apart—but for all that he’s voraciously leaning into the arts, consuming everything from visual to literary to performance, he’s never happier than when you’re there too. He shows you his works, improvement obvious with every new piece, but his excitement grows tenfold when you start to paint alongside him; seeing him so joyful spurs you to pick your brushes up again, buoyed up with motivation in the face of his own.

(Your studio is usually quiet, a little reflective maybe, the only sound the music you play over your speakers—but now more often than not you and Taehyung will talk, and laugh, and even if you’ve both ebbed into silence, it’s never heavy. It’s a held breath. The potential to speak any moment. The sensation of another person in the same space as you, an orbit, both existing in a shared moment, connected by gossamer threads that shimmer with sunlight.

Taehyung’s eyes are steady on his canvas as he works, but he glances at you through the curl of his lashes, smiling back at you. Always, always smiling, LED calm blue as the rest of his face shines golden, bright.)

(Maybe it’s selfish, but you think you could get used to this.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon

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