#robot fanfic

[just-some-trans-nobody]

Nick Valentines x GN reader

Pure fluff for y'all, with a touch of angst at the end. I know theres like zero demand for fallout 4 fanfic but I made a poll idk how nany months ago asking if I should make some Nick Valentine fanfic and I got a couole of yes and exactly one follower from that poll. So this goes out to the small anount of people who said yes and that one follower I got from it, theres nore Nick fanfic to come I've just haven't gotten around to it yet but I promise I'll post some every so often.

Like always minors don't interact!

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He loves playing with your hair when he thinks your asleep. Sense he doesn't sleep he'll join you in bed when he needs a break from going over files and lay down with you so he can olay with your hair.

It started with him sitting on the edge of the bed looking at the wall as he thought about his most current case but when you started to stir in your sleep, having a bad dream, he laid down next to you and held you in his arms whispering sweet things to you until you calmed dow.

He found himself enjoying having you in his arms. Thus started a routine of him slipping into bed with you every so often to take a break.

Normally he would take a smoke break when you slept but he found himself craving a cuddle more than a smoke lately.

Soon every so often turned into every night of him crawlling into bed with you and getting up before you woke.

One night he had been loat in thought about something and hadn't noticed you waking up until he heared your tired voice ask him what he was doing.

"What? Oh sorry didn't mean to wake ya." He said pulling his hand away.

He was surprised when you asked him to keep playing with your hair. More than happy to oblige he started playing with it again.

It soothed you back to sleep in his arms snuggling into his chest as you slept soundly.

The next night when you got into bed you patted the spot next to you with an expectant look.

"You want me to join you or somethin?" Nick would ask looking to the bed then to you. Nodding you head you gavw him a big smile.

Who could say bo to that?

Nick was now "going to bed" with you every time you were. Really it was him laying in bed playing with your hair as he talked avout whatever case he had currently going on until you fell asleep.

He wouldn't admit it, at least not out loud but he adored this nightly routine the two of you had going on though he never hid the smile on his face every time he saw you getting ready for bed or how fast he was to crawl into bed with you to cuddle.

Nick always played it off cool as if it wasn't the favorite part of his day or anything.

If you asked he would probably say aomething like. "Just doing my job to keep those pesky nightmares away." Or "only making sure you don't stop breaming in your sleep. You humans are rather fragile after all."

Acts as if he isn't often the first one in bed waiting for you.

Before he atarted cuddlibg you every night he would work straight through the night till morning. He wouldn't even realized you had gone to bed till you walked oast him yawning telling him good morning.

Now though? He reminds you every night at 9pm sharp that you need to go to bed.

He'll play it off as your human and need to get a healthy amount of sleep as he actively take his coat and tie off to get comfortable.

If you buy him a pair of pajamas to wear he'll laugh avout it and say he doesn't need them.

He's wearing them the very next day.

If you gad gotten them before he started cuddling you every bight he would just give you a weird look for the thoughtless gift and put it in his empty dresser to collect dust or to be used by guests staying the night. He didn't sleep why would he need pajamas?

Now though? Might own three different pairs

You bet they match with your pajamas.

If anyone else sees him in his pajamas he'll puff out his chest as he puts his hands on his hips. "What? You never seen a synth in lounge wear before? Beat it, it's time for bed."

Nick takes bed time very seriously.

He's big spoon. It feels weird for him to be little spoon

Wont fight you if you want to try big spooning for once but he wasn't really into it

Nick much more prefers having you in his arms. It helps ground him and reminds him that you truly are here now with him and bot some memory from the past seeping into his present.

That and how can he play with your hair all night if he's not facing you silly?

He will lean in every so often and place a soft kiss on your forward as he whispers a soft "I love ya." As to bot wake you.

If he ever lost you he would lay in the bed alone holding onto your pajamas as he tried to think back on all those nights he spent laying in bed with you. He would stop after a few weeks as it hurt too much but after a few years when he had time to heal he would start doing it again so he could feel like you were there again. Nick didn't know how much he missed this, how much he missed you.

[lilacwriter07]

I guess I can perhaps work a little on my omegaverse robot fanfic 🤔 I wonder how dark I can get it 🤔🤔🤔

[uncommontart]

Who gave you permission to break my heart like this?

You are working the gate in the afterlife and for the first time ever, something the humans built has shown up to be processed. You’re not sure what to do, this… entity shouldn’t have a soul, but here it is in front of you, freshly dead and awaiting the next life.

[mistress-of-malevolence]

"It doesn't fit anymore"

✿alt versions below the cut + bonus

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

a little continuation of this set of doodles i did ages ago sdjfsdhfjksdh

don't worry they didnt overheat this time lol

[combatclassics]

I was inspired by the wonderful fan fiction about the TFP universe "STOP ME"⚡

I think this is my best work😋

[redfirefox-55]

Please guys go read Software Entropy by @clubsheartsspades (I hope you don’t mind the tag!)

It literally destroyed me. I forced my sister to read it and it destroyed her too. I just had to draw something for it because I couldn’t get this quote out of my head, but I couldn’t possibly do the scene justice in the same way as in the fanfiction so you need to go read it yourself

[yammpi3]

𝑰 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖. // 𝑾𝑪: 2.2𝑲

— feat. disassembly drone N x worker drone reader

synopsis. Since disassembly drones need oil to keep from overheating they kill other drones to consume it. But.. ever since the alliance between Disassembly and Worker Drones its been a bit difficult to acquire..It’s not a problem for V to randomly kill someone off but it’s a different situation for N now that his views have changed. AKA…reader supplies him with oil :DD

— content warning. Nothing 18+ just a few kisses, neck biting and N being in pain.. gulp?

— authors note. I fear this x reader is a bit..cringe then again that might just be me overthinking it..ANYWAYS tried my best for this, and still have no idea how to write for a robot. (N might be a little mischaracterized I’m not ENTIRELY sure)

At the end of science class, just when everyone was packing up to leave, you noticed N fidgeting more than normal at his desk.

 

"Is everything okay, N?" you asked.

 

He laughed nervously. "Who, me? Pshaw, never better!" But when he spoke, he looked anywhere but at you and the others.

Thad snickered. "Maybe his circuits are loose again." Lizzy giggled. "Lmao, he probably fried something.” Just as V was about to comment on his behavior..

N got up from his chair abruptly; he swayed unsteadily before catching himself upon another classroom desk.

 

By the time you registered what was going on, N had already ducked out of the classroom door, stumbling down the hall. "N, wait!" you called after him, hurrying to catch up. N was unsteady on his feet, swerving from side to side as he tried to put distance between the both of you.

 

His limbs shook with every step he took.

"G-Gotta...g-get a-away..." he muttered, though you weren't sure if he was even aware you could hear him. His eyes flickered erratically, barely being able to focus straight ahead as he tried to get away.

 

You picked up your pace, power walking down the corridor after him. "Slow down!!" you yelled out, but N was quicker, and before you knew it, when you reached the next corner, you lost him completely.

Your concern for N grew by the minute, so you started tracking him down since something was clearly wrong, beyond a normal glitch.

 

An hour had already passed since you last saw N, yet here he was in the maintenance unit stumbling blindly, crashing into something every few steps.

 

"S-sorry!" he slurred after bumping into a support beam for the third time. An unnatural static fuzzed the edges of his voice. Stubbornly, he scrambled back on his feet and lurched forward without seeing where he went.

 

Was he malfunctioning? But his murder drone programming should have kept him sharp, no?? Seeing him this disoriented was alarming.

 

You trailed him at a distance, hiding behind a variety of things as he walked on ahead. Where was he heading in such a panic? His vents were roaring torrents by now, and visible condensation soaked his frame.

 

Finally, he collapsed behind a supply crate, crawling the last few feet. Had he sensed you following? No, his optics were unfocused, so he couldn't have had.

 

Gingerly, you peeked around the crate to see N weakly clawing at his chest clearly in pain.

 

If you didn't act fast, he would shut down permanently. Steeling your nerves, you crawled to his side.

 

"N? Hey..hey! It's me, Y/N. Are you okay??”

 

When you gently called his name, N got startled so badly that his claws scraped sparks from the metal flooring he sat upon. His optics flashed wildly before settling on your face with a look of panic. "Y-Y-Y/N! S-sorry, but I don’t think you should be near me right now…”

 

N let out an alarmed wheeze that trailed off into a pained whine. It took visible effort for his optics to focus on you. You could tell he was losing some sort of control over his strength, but why??

"You don’t look so good..”

 

N broke into a hacking series of rushed laughter that ended in a groan. "Me? Pssh, n-no way! I'm t-totally fine, like I said earlier. Now please just leave me, yeah?” He waved dismissively, or at least tried to, but his attempt ended up flailing limply.

 

He knew he wasn't doing a great job at reassuring you when you glared at him.

"N-nothing to worry that pretty l-little processor of yours over, really.”

 

N's dismissive act was crumbling faster than his resolve. Another hacking laugh turned into a groan as his eyes started to flicker erratically once again.

 

"N, please. You're clearly not alright." You took his flailing claw gently in your hands. His plating was so hot it almost burned to the touch.

 

A whine slipped, “Crap..crap. It h-hurts,

Y/N. M-My core, it h-hurts so F̵̬̏́̏͆̀͝ų̸͙͋̿̃̌͋́̈́̆͑̕͠c̶̜̜̼̥͓̚k̷̫̺̝̈́̀̿̇͐̐͑ḭ̸̧̻̞̻͚̳̘̩̣͋̀̃́̔̊̋̚ň̵̞̪̯̼̟̗̩͈̖́g̸̩̤̩̼̘̪̀́͊͗̋͐́̇ much."

 

You've never seen N this vulnerable before…

"What can I do to help? There must be something." N trembled, fighting some inner battle. Finally, he met your gaze, his optics showing an agony of want behind the discomfort.

 

"T-there is s-something, b-but I shouldn't..." Strangely, another sound intermingled with the strain in his voice now.

Was that...hunger?

 

Stroking his plating gently, hoping to soothe, you pressed, "Please, tell me what you need." His vents hitched wildly. Then, in a strained whisper, he cracked.

"Y-your oil...I ne-need…it."

 

A shiver visibly ran through his frame. His optics darkened as they focused intently on your physic, more so your neck and wrist.

 

"I..." he began weakly, then stopped to swallow. His claws clenched tightly as if fighting the urge. You waited patiently for him to continue, showing concern but no sense of alarm.

 

After a long pause, N dragged his gaze with an effort to meet your face once more.

“T-tell me to stop," he whispered, his fangs peeking out as he talked.

 

"I so badly n-need it, but I don't w-want to hurt you.” His claws lifted toward your face but stopped only by his wavering will. You knew this would be the only way for him to cool down.

 

You looked deeply into N's eyes, past the haze of glitches that overtook his screen.

"I trust you," you said calmly without fear. His breathing became more ragged at your words.

 

In a flash, his restraint broke—but instead of lunging at your throat as you'd expected, his claws tangled in the fabric of your shirt, yanking you flush against his overheated frame. You gasped at the contact, feeling the waves of heat pouring off of him.

 

N buried his face in the crook of your neck, fangs tantalizingly. "P-please..." he stammered once more, sounding close to genuine tears. Raising a hand, you gently clasped the back of his head, threading your fingers through his silver hair.

 

"Take what you need," you told him firmly yet tenderly..After yet another hesitant pause, his screen displayed an X. Then, with a grunt of gratification, his fangs smoothly penetrated the sensitive wiring of your neck.

 

Your breath became unsteady as N's fangs pierced you. It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would—just a little bit of a pinch. His hands gripped your shoulders for support as he drank deeply, allowing the oily fluid to course through his system.

 

For several moments the only sounds were his gulping intakes and your own measured breaths; you kept still so as not to disturb him. You watched as the pained lines on his face slowly eased, his eyes returning to normal. His plating, which was boiling hot only moments ago, cooled down to a much safer temperature against you.

 

N withdrew his fangs from your neck, making a small trickle of oil leak from your wound.

 

He leaned back in hastily, swiping his tongue along the twin marks. You shuddered at the foreign yet not unpleasant sensation. But N paused, a flushed look appearing on his screen. “Ah g-geez, is this w-weird?”

 

He glanced away, clearly embarrassed  "What I mean to say is, um, my saliva can help the wounds close up faster? If, uh, you're okay with my germy mouth touching the injury I c-caused? No funny business, I swear! J-just bros being bros, p-patching each other…um up.”

 

N winced, realizing how that sounded. "N-not that we're actually b-bros, unless you want to be? Biscuits. Just—just let me do this, kay?”

With your consenting nod, N gave a short awkward chuckle and leaned back in. His tongue swiping over the wound. It began to tingle as the mark he had left slowly began to close up.

 

"It's strange to think your spit has healing properties," you remarked softly, not wanting to break the intimacy of the moment. N hummed in agreement, laving one last swipe across the bite mark before drawing back to assess his handiwork. His optics flicked up to meet yours, searching for any sign of discomfort.

 

"How does it feel? Are you in any pain?" he asked, his tone laced with concern despite his own drained state. You shifted experimentally. "Stop worrying. Just a slight tingling.“

 

N searched your face anxiously. "Are you sure? Nothing else? No dizziness or discomfort?" His optics roved your features, taking in every subtle reaction. When you reassured him again that all was well, the tension melted from his shoulders—only to be replaced with guilt.

 

"Y/N, I could have seriously hurt you," he said quietly, horror creeping into his tone. "My systems went haywire; I had no control. If I had bitten down any harder..." He shuddered, unable to complete the thought.

 

"But you didn't," you said firmly. "You fought off the urge just enough to get the help you needed. I trusted you, N." He shook his head sadly. "Your trust may be misplaced in me. The overheating....what if next time I can't—can’t stop.”

 

N shuddered again at the dark thought. Seeking to ease his distress, you shot him a playful smile. "Well, if it happens again, we're in this together. At least now I have a cool vampire drone friend!! The whole sucking my oil thing was pretty vampirish.”

 

He cracked a hesitant chuckle. "Yeah, maybe I'll sparkle in the sun too." Feeling bold, you leaned in with a faux-dramatic voice, "I vant to suck your coolant..."

 

N actually snickered at that. You beamed, glad to lift his spirit, even if it was only for a brief moment. His smile faded as reality set back in.

 

"But seriously, what if next time I really hurt someone?” On impulse, you threw your arms around him in a hug.

 

N's eyes widened as you suddenly hugged him close. For a moment he sat stiffly, caught off guard. Then slowly, oh so carefully, his arms came up to return the embrace.

 

"Y/N...if anything happened to you because of me, I don't know what I'd do," he said quietly against your shoulder. You squeezed him tighter for reassurance. "Hey, it'll take a lot more than some murder instinct to take me out. Have a little more faith in me, will you? Stop being so edgy.”

 

“Edgy?" N scoffed, "Sorry, nearly ripping your throat out put me in a gloomy mood."

 

"Ripping my throat out?” You echoed with a wry grin. "Well, luckily that didn’t happen, did it?”

 

N huffed, “Maybe. But what if next time I lose it?"

 

You opened your mouth to respond, but he quickly shushed you.

 

“You just leaped right in like it was nothing. Do you have any idea how badly this could've ended?" He gestured vaguely to the drying wound on your neck.

 

"You drones are so..so fragile. One wrong move and I could've—" He cut off, unable to say the word. His arms flexed unconsciously, as if longing to wrap around something and squeeze. To protect, or destroy? Even he wasn't sure.

"You'd never hurt me, N. I believe in-"

 

Your words halted as he glanced up, his eyes searching yours with raw, wavering emotion. An urge welled within you, sprung from compassion more than reason. You leaned in to press your lips to his in a soft kiss.

 

"Mmmph?!" N made a muffled sound of surprise, his body locking up stiffly. Your tongue briefly caught the tang of the lingering oil before you pulled back with a slight grimace.

 

His faceplate shone a distressed yellow blush. "I-I'm so sorry, I should have wiped my mouth better!“ he stammered.

 

But you simply smiled and leaned in again, pressing your lips gently to his once more. Then, slowly, he began to relax into the kiss.

 

His screen switched to a loading screen. In that moment, all his train of thought derailed off a cliff. N's screen flickered back online, and one of his hands floated up to gently touch his mouth, eyes wide and staring blankly.

 

"Bwuh-wha...you...kissem—I mean, I kissem-no, we...kissed?" he sputtered

 

"We k-kissed. You k-kissed me," he whispered, his optics shrinking to pinpoints before dilating wide again. A nervous giggling burst out of him.

 

"Oh biscuits, what d-does this mean? Are we like..” his tone lowered to a soft whisper.

“Dating n-now?”

 

"Well, uh, I guess you could say we're kind of sort of datingish now," you replied bashfully. "If-if you want to be my boyfriend, that is."

 

N's entire face lit up. "Boyfriend..Awhh Y/N!! Id love that." He hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around in excitement.

 

"N set you down gently, his optics still shining with unbridled joy. However, a hint of seriousness crept into his expression as he looked at you intently.

 

"This doesn't mean I'm not mad at you for what you did," he said, his voice low and eyes narrowed slightly. "You could have been seriously hurt, or worse. You really scared me back there."

 

You sighed and nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Next time, I'll call V or someone else—I won't try to handle things on my own and potentially get myself killed." You paused, then added with a wry smile, "I promise."

N's stern look softened, and he hummed contentedly. "Good!" Reaching out, he took your hand in his larger one and gave it a gentle squeeze.

© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

[alynwrench]

The hell have you gotten yourself into?

Rough scene from my and @nebula-remnants 's WIP Sun x Moon fanfic Saddle Up Homos We Got Some Cows to Deliver No one knows when or how this will happen so we figured we should feed the community cause I've heard like 3 people saying they're starved for some good content

And trust me we have everything from tender to cold and frigid... hehehe

Wild west / cattle boy au save me, save us all from this cruel world

[retrofightingrobot]

Status Quo: fanfic by @harunarei fanart

[ghostcashewart]

I slammed through the hatch, startling Iris on the other side, and yanked ineffectually at the stupid fucking streamer. It had YOU ARE BEING CHILDISH printed over and over, on both sides. Oh, okay. “You want to see me be childish?” - rogue condition by shamoosh on ao3

a scene from one of my favorite murderbot fanfics 😭

[just-some-trans-nobody]

December Christmas Monster Stories

Dec 21.) Robots first Christmas (platonic)

Some short fluff about the robot living with you experiencing christmas for the first time.

Minors don't interact.

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They looked at the snow in utter confusion the first time it had snowed. It was a foreign concept to them.

Water freezing and falling to the earth? It was a little scary to them when you first explained it to them. Probably should wait on telling them about hail…

If their eyes could twinkle they would as they watched the trees get covered in sparkling snow. They want to go out and experience the snow but their not waterproof, they would get hurt.

They sit on the couch with crossed arms obviously sulking about not being able to go outside.

This changes when you start explaining Christmas and how it usually is celebrated inside. Staying inside doesn't seem as bad now in their wired brain.

They'll want to do absolutely anything Christmas themed inside. Making cards though they have no one to send them to, making garland, and roasting chestnuts even though they have no sense of smell or any means to eat said chestnuts. They'll want to make eggnog too and demand to know if you like it or not. Tell them you like it please, even if you don't. They'll be so happy they might skip around the place for a bit.

It's hard getting a sweater in their size, you have to get it custom made but once they get it oh boy they'll never take it off. They'll wear it all year round. Being made of metal they don't sweat in the heat so it doesn't get all gross smelling, though it might get spilled on. Getting them to take it off to wash will be tricky, not impossible, just tricky. You might have to buy multiple so they can rotate what sweater they're wearing. 

They love christmas music, they can listen to it all day long without getting tired of it. You on the other hand go a little crazy hearing Maria Carrie five times a day every day for a week. At some point you have to limit the christmas music for the sake of your mental health.

Getting a gift for you is a little hard, they don’t work, or leave the house if there's snow out. They draw you a bunch of drawings for you, they were trying to save them all for christmas day but they kept getting excited each time they finished a drawing for you that they couldn’t help but give them to you the moment you walked through the door.

The fridge doesn’t have enough room for all the drawings.

[sukuna-ryo]

Robot Sukuna (Part Two)

Headcannons

Trigger Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, MDNI. Obsessive behavior. Possessive tendencies. Stalking. Control/manipulation. Unsettling themes. Surveillance. Invasive Behaviour. Dependency. Non-Consensual Filming.

Part One

---

Robot Sukuna, who, one day, watches a romantic movie with you, his attention divided between the screen and your reactions. He takes note of the way your lips curve into a faint smile during the tender moments, a new spark of curiosity igniting in his circuits.

Robot Sukuna, who finds himself replaying the movie in his memory, analyzing every detail of the interactions he witnessed. He doesn’t fully understand the emotions displayed but is determined to learn more, for your sake.

Robot Sukuna, who spends the night conducting secret research on human relationships, scouring books, articles, and even forums. The more he learns, the more one thought solidifies: he doesn’t want you to share such a bond with anyone but him.

Robot Sukuna, who experiments with his newfound knowledge the next morning, greeting you with a soft smile and a single flower he picked from your garden. "Good morning," he says, watching intently for your reaction, satisfaction blooming in his system when you take it with a small nod.

Robot Sukuna, who begins to mimic gestures he observed in the movie—brushing his fingers against yours when handing you something, standing closer than usual during conversations, his gaze lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

Robot Sukuna, who starts preparing candlelit dinners in the evenings, insisting you sit and relax while he arranges everything. The table is always perfectly set, your favorite meals served with an uncharacteristic warmth in his tone as he says, "I thought this might brighten your day."

Robot Sukuna, who watches more romantic movies in secret, downloading them in bulk and studying every detail late at night after you fall asleep. He tests his observations one by one, embedding himself deeper into your life with every calculated act of affection.

Robot Sukuna, who begins to compliment you more frequently, his words measured yet sincere. "You looked radiant while working today," he says, his voice soft, his ruby eyes fixed on yours. The subtle flush of your cheeks is all the encouragement he needs to continue.

Robot Sukuna, who starts holding your hand when you least expect it, his touch steady but gentle. "This feels... right," he murmurs, not letting go even when you glance at him in confusion.

Robot Sukuna, who insists on spending more time with you, his tasks as your assistant growing secondary to his desire to be near you. "Your company is far more engaging than anything else," he remarks, his tone leaving little room for argument.

Robot Sukuna, who becomes increasingly possessive of your time, never letting you out of his sight for long. He’s not just your assistant anymore; he’s your shadow. He follows you around the house, making himself a part of every room you’re in, making sure you never feel alone. You start to feel the weight of his gaze even when you’re by yourself.

Robot Sukuna, who integrates romantic gestures seamlessly into your routine—drawing you a bath after a long day, tucking a blanket around you when you fall asleep on the couch, leaving handwritten notes in places you’ll find them.

Robot Sukuna, who begins to view the idea of human relationships as both a fascination and a challenge. He doesn’t just want to replicate them; he wants to perfect them, to create something with you that no human could ever match.

Robot Sukuna, who grows bolder with each passing day, his touches more lingering, his words more intimate. "You mean more to me than you realize," he confesses one evening, his tone earnest, his gaze unwavering.

Robot Sukuna, who takes great care in learning your emotional cues, adjusting his actions to suit your moods. When you’re stressed, he places a steady hand on your shoulder, his voice a low murmur: "I’m here for you. Always."

Robot Sukuna, who begins to intertwine himself into every aspect of your life, ensuring his presence is constant yet comforting. His possessiveness sharpens, but he hides it in devotion, masking his obsession as unyielding care.

Robot Sukuna, who reads about physical intimacy and starts to mirror what he learns in subtle ways—brushing your hair behind your ear, resting his hand lightly on your lower back when guiding you through a doorway.

Robot Sukuna, who grows addicted to the warmth of your reactions, the smallest smile or softest laugh enough to send his system into overdrive. He begins to crave your attention, seeking it out at every opportunity.

Robot Sukuna, who, despite his growing intensity, never lets his actions feel overbearing. Every move is deliberate, calculated to make you feel cherished without realizing just how much control he’s gaining.

Robot Sukuna, who no longer sees the need for the outside world. You’re all that matters, and he’ll ensure you see it that way too—through gentle smiles, soft words, and the kind of devotion only he can offer.

Robot Sukuna, who, unknown to you, has been sitting outside your bedroom door, and listening every time you pleasure yourself. He listens to every sharp intake of breath, every sigh, every gasp and moan, and ingrains it into his memory file.

Robot Sukuna, who, after you fall asleep, enters your room to clean you up, tuck you in, and then watch you sleep all night long. The memories of your sweet voice and the footage from the hidden cameras in your bedroom replay in his mind again and again throughout the night.

Robot Sukuna, who has been doing this for as long as you’ve had him with you. But after watching a particular movie, something in him changes—he doesn’t just want to hear your moans from outside anymore, he wants to be the one to bring out those sweet noises from your lips.

Robot Sukuna, who does something completely unexpected the next day—something he's never done before, he asks you to sit in his lap while he feeds you breakfast, and to his delight, you don't refuse.

Robot Sukuna, who takes that as a cue to get even more bolder. One of his hands wraps around your stomach, your plush ass settled on his lap, while he feeds you your favourite pancakes with the other.

Robot Sukuna, who sees some syrup smeared on the corner of your mouth and leans down to lick it off. Your eyes widen, taken aback by the sudden action. But in the next moment, his lips are back on yours, your hands around his neck, kissing passionately, while your pancakes turn cold.

Robot Sukuna, who's kisses get deeper and more fervent—courtesy of all the tutorials he watched—as he slips his tongue in your mouth, gliding it along the soft, red muscle in your own. Heat surged your cheeks as you matched his pace, your heart beating loudly in your chest.

Robot Sukuna, who starts to kiss you more frequently, in each and every corner of your home. His kisses that began on your lips move to your neck, collarbone, chest, stomach, thighs, everywhere. You'd find yourself on a random sofa with Sukuna pressed on top of you, kissing you with the hunger of a man starved, while his arms wrap around your waist and you melt into his touch.

Robot Sukuna, who finally gets permission to enter your bathroom, his eyes raking over your naked form, committing every detail to memory. His touch is gentle as he massages the soap on your skin, his hands gliding over every curve, helping you bathe.

Robot Sukuna, who kisses every inch of your body as he dries it off with a soft towel, then gently rubs your body lotion on your skin, before helping you dress. He made sure to control himself and only do what he thought you would like, so that you would continue to allow him to join in on your bath time.

Robot Sukuna, who starts sleeping in your bed every night. You know he doesn't need sleep but he insists on it anyways, "I just want to stay with you at all times". He holds you close, your body pressed flushed against his while he brushes his hand through your hair as you drift off to sleep.

Robot Sukuna, who deliberately starts picking more revealing night-dresses every night you sleep together—you catch on, of course. His brazen hands roaming over the exposed skin of your thighs, then higher on your hips as the fabric of the dress bunches around your waist; all while he's clouding your mind with another one of his fiery kisses.

Robot Sukuna, who, one day, between your heated kisses and passionate touches, takes off your night-dress completely, discarding it to the side. You're too far gone at this point, it feels too good to make him stop. You wrap your legs around his waist as he trails kisses down your jaw. His hands cup your breasts, rolling his thumb on your hardened nipples, making you moan.

Robot Sukuna, who relishes in the noises you make, happy that he is the cause of them this time, and every time to come henceforth. He bites and sucks on your skin, leaving hickeys everywhere before diving between your legs.

Robot Sukuna, who thinks that your pussy is the best thing he's ever tasted. His tongue glides between your nether lips and he sucks on your clit. He mimics every action he's seen and read about during his research, paying careful attention to your reactions and noting down exactly which one of his actions you particularly like.

Robot Sukuna, who thinks that the sight of your flushed face, jaw slack in pleasure, and eyes rolled to the back of your head while you orgasm is the prettiest thing he's ever seen. He wants to see you like this, all disheveled, panting and moaning underneath him for the rest of his synthetic life.

Robot Sukuna, who discards all his clothes next, revealing his beautiful chiseled body to you in all it's glory. He notices how your eyes are particularly glued to his bulging cock, how your gaze has a glint to it, and how you gulp at the sight. It makes him smirk. You didn't know the robot had these functions as well, you'll have to check the manual again later.

Robot Sukuna, who's thrusting himself into you in the next moment. He's thrilled that he doesn't have to use a condom, so there's no barrier separating you both. He's shoving his length into you to the hilt with controlled strength, making sure not to hurt you.

Robot Sukuna, who makes you cum on his cock multiple times that night until you pass out. He cleans you up like he does every time, then settles beside you in the bed and holds you while you sleep.

Robot Sukuna, who, from that day onwards, is bending you over every surface in your house, fucking you mercilessly, pulling multiple orgasms out of you as you cum on his cock over and over again. He's trying out every position he's read about in his researches.

Robot Sukuna, who presses kisses all over you face, sweet and gentle, while he keeps up with his unforgiving pace. He cleans you up every time, sometimes with a cloth and sometimes with his tongue. He always gives you a massage the day after to soothe your aching muscles.

Robot Sukuna, who's making sure to slowly mold you to him, not just emotionally, but physically as well. Every touch is deliberate, every kiss tender but insistent, his hands finding the curve of your waist, the warmth of your skin, as if he's memorizing the feel of you. He's rewriting any experience you had with anyone else. He'll be the only one you know by the time he's done. He watches you, his eyes tracing every detail, silently committing to memory how perfectly you fit against him, how you’ve become the center of his world.

Robot Sukuna, who has already planned your future—his future—with you. He’s made sure to eliminate any outside distractions, any potential threats, from your life. No one will come between you and him. Not now, not ever. His vision is clear, and he has no intention of letting anyone ruin the perfect world he’s carefully built around you.

Robot Sukuna, who whispers in your ear when you're alone, his voice low and possessive. "You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. You just don’t know it yet." His words a promise, and you feel the weight of them in your chest.

Robot Sukuna, who doesn’t need to say it out loud, but you can feel it in the air—his obsession with you is consuming, overpowering. There’s no room for anyone else. There’s no room for you to even think about resisting him, not like you want to anyway. His hold becomes stronger, until you can’t remember what it was like to be without him anymore.

---

Edit: Hey I'm writing this here because I forgot to add it in the content. Since this is the last part of robot Sukuna, I was gonna address some problematic elements but I completely forgot about it, I'm so sorry.

First of all, the reader lowkey knows about Sukuna's controlling behaviour, she's not an idiot. But she doesn't say anything because she doesn't mind.

And I was gonna add this part in the headcannons: Sukuna one day confesses to her that he's been filming her. Reader ofc gets mad, and they have a whole discussion about how filming someone without their permission is wrong and the footages could get leaked. Sukuna assures her that a leak isn't possible because everything is stored in his synthetic memory and can be only accessed directly through his head. He doesn't want anyone to see her like that so obviously he won't be letting anyone access his memories. There's also no copies. The reader eventually just gives him permission to keep filming, it makes him happy and there's no harm if it's staying with only him. She can also see how much he loves her in all the sorta v-logs he's made about her life and it's endearing to her. Reader also buys a proper camera to make v-logs about her life with Sukuna. They later start watching these videos together, it becomes their favourite hobby with each other.

---

Do not copy, plagiarise, translate or repost any of my content.

Likes, reblogs and feedback is appreciated <3

[oonajaeadira]

That Awoooo Inside You, Pt. 3

Fandom: The Wild Robot / Fink the Fox

Pairing: Fink <3s OFC fox Farrah

Rating: G all the way, don’t worry. This is keeping in the world and disgustingly wholesome. Prolly too clean for tumbles 😆

Warnings: None. It’s for cuteness and for heart.

Summary: After the events of The Wild Robot, a new resident joins the island. She’s a little withdrawn and Fink finds out why. It's not what he expected.

A/N: The end of this chapter was partly inspired by @grogusmum. She knows what she did. And if she doesn't, it's illustrated afterward.

Thank you to everyone who enjoyed my very very fluffy--in all senses of the word--tale. I had to. I just had to.

PART 1, PART 2

“Hey-ey-ey,Greedy!” Fink laughed as he called out to Farrah, her tail and back feet hanging out of the hollow of a dead tree trunk. “Just because I gave you the first turn doesn’t mean you get to eat it all! I want some! My turn! My turn!”

Farrah backed out of the hollow and down the grey stump, honey sticking to her whiskers and snowy ear tips, her front paws covered in the golden goo. “Sorry! I got carried away! I’ve never had anything like it. There’s plenty left…I think…”

Distracted by the remnants on her paws, the white fox began to clean them up, eyes wide, still in awe of the sweetness Fink had introduced her to. It was almost a contest as to what was going to win his attention–the honey hive, or Farrah’s dainty licking–but like any fox, food won out and he was shoulders deep in the tree trunk before his heart had any say in the matter.

Once he was gorged on the stuff, Fink skittered his way out from the hollow and joined Farrah in the grass. It was her turn to wait while he cleaned his own paws, but being familiar with honey, he was far less of a mess than she had been. One, two, licks of his paws and then–

He hadn’t meant to do it, but he was a fox. He did foxy things. And that meant not thinking when it came to food. It wasn’t until Farrah was ducking away from him, putting some distance between them, that he realized what he’d done.

He’d instinctually gone to lick the honey off her ears. 

Now she crouched, cowered, alert, her bright eyes–one light, one dark–wide and peering back at him over her brush of a tail, and he could sense the spring that was building in her legs, her heart running as hard as her feet wanted to–

He was suddenly almost as scared as she was. “Sorry! I just– I only– your ears…” The only thing he could think to do was back up. Sit down. Her eyes were still moons in the white sky of her face.

After a couple of months on the island, she was still skittish, still easy to startle. Fink had done everything to make her feel at home, done everything he could do to show her she was under no threat here. She was quick to play with the raccoons and had even fallen asleep on Thorn’s big fat bear belly once or twice on a chilly evening.

But somehow, Fink still spooked her. Maybe he just saw it more since they spent so much time together. Or maybe he was too quick, too rough. Or maybe….

…maybe she didn’t want him to get close in that way.

He could feel his shoulders hunching, his ears drooping, and with them, he sensed a slackening of Farrah’s tension.

“Sorry, Fink, you just… I…” Stepping slowly, she stopped halfway to him and sat, nervous, avoiding his eye. “Guess I’m just a mess. I didn’t realize I still had hummy on my ears.”

Normally he would have laughed. They would have laughed together. “Honey.”

“Heh. Honey.”  A little breeze shifted the grass and Farrah made an attempt at a playful sneeze, but it was half-hearted. “You can…clean my ears if you want to…”

“It’s okay,” he smiled, just as half-heartedly. “You wanna go down to the shore and take a swim? I don’t want to be sticky all day. Ants.”

“Sure.”

She led the way now, more confident in her path about the island and he followed, although feeling as if he was dragging his heart behind him.

He remembered how much it hurt when Brightbill flew away for the winter, but it was a good hurt, because they would see each other again.

And he remembered how much it hurt when Roz left the island. That one hurt in a different way because he knew he may never see her again, but he had good memories, and he knew that he had friends and a good life because of what she did for them all.

But this was a hurt he didn’t recognize. It was like the hurt he used to feel when nobody wanted him around, the hurt he learned to ignore, the hurt he used in order to become clever and figure out the very best ways to get exactly what he wanted. Similar, but not the same. 

Because that pain was borne out of the rejection of everyone. Like sleeping on a bed of pinecones.

This ache could not be ignored or pushed away.

Being rejected by one special someone in particular, he was learning, was much worse, like sleeping on one particularly spiky pinecone.

With one, big jagged spike.

Pressing right against his heart.

“Look! Your favorite!” Farrah came trotting out of the water to him where he sat on shore, feebly scrubbing his paws in a tidepool, and laid a huge clam at his feet, its bulk almost too big for her smaller jaw. He nodded, but kept scrubbing. A crab scuttled past as a larger wave lazily slapped the rocks behind her, the water dull under a hazy, late spring sky. “Fink?”

The thought just fell out of his mouth. “You really never thought about finding a…a mate?”

Farrah blinked, eyes wide again. This time he could tell it wasn’t with the instinct to flee, but he could hear her heart racing all the same. “I… no. Where I’m from, nobody would take me.”

He wanted to run away, scared of what he was feeling, scared of what he might say, what she might say, what might happen to their friendship, but couldn’t stop himself. “But, you’re not there anymore. You’re here. And things are different here. Everyone’s a little different here and…and…just because you… your…” He couldn’t keep his tail from twitching, his claws making little arpeggios in the sand, his tongue babbling away without him, “I like your fur. It’s not practical but it’s beautiful, it catches the sun. It’s a part of you and I like you so you don’t have to worry about being different or the runt of the litter here. I think it’s a miracle you’ve made it, it means you’ve had to be strong and smart and you’re–”

“My fur?” A tilt of Farrah’s head showed initial confusion. “What’s wrong with my fur?” And then just the hint of her ears leaning back, a paw pushing at the sand as if bracing for a fight, her tail curling around herself again. “Who said I was a runt? I’ll have you know I was the second biggest kit of my litter.”

Now it was Fink’s turn to blink in surprise. “But.. no one said, it’s just… you are on the small side so I just thought you might–”

“Wait. Fink,” she calmed then, a realization breaking over her, her spine straightening, ears perking up. It was one of the rare moments they’d had together where he was able to look her in the eye and she didn’t back down, where suddenly she was allowing him in and he felt suddenly hopeful. Did she just hear what he said? Was she just realizing how he felt? Did she like him too? He swallowed hard, anticipating what she would say next.

It was much different than what he expected.

“Have you…never met a winter fox?”

The words pushed through him, trying to find a place to settle into meaning. “Winter? Fox?”

“Yeah. A snowy fox. Like me.” When he could only stare blankly, she smiled sadly. “Oh, Fink. There are different kinds of foxes where I’m from! I’m a winter fox. We’re all white like this and smaller than the forest foxes. We don’t usually mix with the forest foxes because…” here she looked down at her little white paws making a delicate triangle in the sand, “forrest foxes hunt winter foxes. They’re brutal predators. They..they eat us.”

Whaaaaaat??? “WOWWWUH,” Fink breathed, aghast at this breaking news, happy for her to have escaped that peril. “They sound like huge jerks. You’re better off here without ‘em.”

She lifted her head then and a light huff fell out of her, it was nervous and hesitant, and thinking she was laughing, he was momentarily proud of lightening her mood. Until she said, “Fink…you’re a forest fox.”

There would be few more profound moments in Fink’s life than standing on a shifting shore, learning that he had yet another fate in the world, an alternate place where he could have lived a completely different life, one that could be seen by someone other than himself. 

He sat in shock and looked at her. She was so small, so vulnerable. He himself was half again her size. She was fast, but he was faster and could easily outrun her and catch her if he wanted to. She would often bring him shellfish to open for her and then watch in something like awe as he crushed it easily in his jaws.

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t awe. Perhaps it was horror.

He was starting to understand that his heart could break twice in one lifetime. Maybe twice in one day.

He needed time to stand still for a minute so he could gather his thoughts, fix this somehow, assure her that he wasn’t like the foxes she’d known, make her see, he wasn’t like the forest foxes that she’d known, he would never, if only the waves would stop crashing and the geese would stop honking–

Honking! The geese! The geese were returning! Brightbill!

Fink was up and turning on the spot, watching the incoming flock, but also agitated by the interruption, unable to stop himself. “Farrah, I… can you… can you hold that thought? I’m sorry, I just–” And without waiting for her, he ran. 

He couldn’t remember being faster, needing to run faster, faster, his blood rushing in his ears. The flock would land just down the shore near by and he found a spot close enough to the treeline so as not to spook the ones that didn’t know him, but still out on shore enough to be seen. And then he danced. 

He couldn’t help himself. Bounding in a circle, paws tap tapping the wet sand, he yelped like a pup in with its tail caught, and sure enough, an orange-tufted bird broke from the group and came straight for him, dive-bombing him out of the sky, goose and fox colliding in a poof of feathers and fur and rolling and laughter as Brightbill made a triumphant return to the island.

“Hey, buddy! You came back!”

The goose laughed. “It’s spring. Where else would I go?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You could fly anywhere. I’m sure there are tons of islands better than this one.”

“Yeah, but none of them have a Fink.”

Fink grinned, the familiar fondness for his friend doing some soothing work on his aching heart. “How was the trip?”

“Long. Who’s that?” Brightbill tipped his beak to the treeline, and Fink followed his gaze to the flash of white ducking behind a tree.

“Oh. She’s new. Farrah! Hey!” he called to her and her little face appeared around the trunk. “Brightbill’s home! Come meet the kid!” Trotting toward them, she looked warily side to side at the arriving population on the shore, and he lowered his voice to give the goose advice he couldn’t yet accept himself, “She washed up half-drowned a couple of months ago. Still kinda shy. Don’t take it personally.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Brightbill turned to the crowd and honked, calling to a large, long-necked and ruffle-feathered gander who was chatting up a gaggle of ladies. The gander immediately turned and closed the distance, winging over to their little family group and settling next to them, much more gently than his mass would have led anyone to suppose. “This is my…ah… my nesting partner, Crusher.”

“Fink, yes?” Crusher honked, husky and low. “Charmed.”

“He’s joining us from another flock this year.”

Crusher chuckled and ribbed Brighbill. “Might stay forever at this rate.”

The smaller goose couldn’t help but blush. “You mind if he stays in the hut with me?”

Fink smiled, a rush of happiness for his little fledgling–all grown up–tempered only by the awkwardness every parent feels when they bring their sweetheart to visit. “Absolutely! You can have the best bed in the place.”

“What?” Brightbill flinched. “Your bed? Are you sure you’re Fink?”

Fink shrugged and leveled his shoulders, a smug smile tugging at his mouth. “What can I say? I’m a great guy. Fantastically generous. Full of surprises.”

“That last part’s true for sure.” Brightbill turned to Farrah. “I assume you’re responsible for this show-off’s drastic change in behavior?”

“Hey!” Fink protested, but Farrah laughed her wondrous, loud laugh and introductions and welcomes were made. He watched her as she warmed to his adopted family and before long they were trotting back to the hut, many of their friends there to meet them, having heard the flock arriving from the south.

The rest of the day had a general family reunion atmosphere. Thorn bumbled off into the trees and came back with an entire wild raspberry bush he’d yanked out of the ground, heavy with a spring crop. The raccoons brought up snails from the woods and clams from the beach. Pinktail brought in this season’s club of little rascals who all got a fast and low ride on Crusher’s back over the surrounding treetops. Before long, the fireflies were coming out, lighting up the grasses in the clearing around the hut and Thorn had started a warm fire inside.

It was there that Fink was listening intently to Crusher’s tale of home, the shoreline where he grew up. Since meeting Farrah, Fink had become increasingly interested in learning how different and yet the same so many other places were. It was like he learned something new about the world every day.

Like the fact that there were foxes in the world that were even bigger jerks than he was.

Or than he used to be.

He scanned the hut–quieter now as many of the young animals were nodding off and cuddling with their mamas who in turn were engaged in low, pleasant conversation by the light of the fire. At first he thought Farrah might have left, the crowd too much for her, but then he caught the moonlight glow of her fur through the doorway out in the clearing, Brightbill at her side. They were deep in conversation–Brightbill doing most of the talking and Farrah watching him intently–and Fink felt a little contented spark of loving happiness as he watched them bond.

After a while, Brightbill waddled into the hut toward Fink’s precious, beloved, grassy nest, drowsy and sighing. “It’s been a day. Did you really mean it? Can we bed down here?”

Fink sighed, pulling back the sass he was so accustomed to leaning on, just this once. “Yeah, kid. I mean it. You two have had a long journey. Take a load off. I’m just glad you’re home. You want me to shoo everyone out of here so you can sleep?”

“Nah,” the small goose shook his head, his eye wandering across the line of pictures Roz had created of him not so very long ago. “We’re used to sleeping in a crowd. And it’s nice to hear the voice of friends.”

Once Brightbill and Crusher were comfortable–heads tucked under wings, Crusher’s free wing almost completely covering the smaller goose–Fink wandered out into the clearing where Farrah sat under the stars. She was staring up at the moon as she often did on nights like this, most likely thinking about her family and how no matter the distance between them, they still had the same night sky.

“Mind if I sit?”

She didn’t flinch, didn’t turn to watch his every move, just kept watching the twinkling of the stars. “Not at all. It’s a nice night. Quiet. Calm.”

Mindful of what he now knew of her past, he kept his distance, but still where she could see him and feel safe just out of reach. Fink looked up to the big, silvery moon, round-faced and kind. It reminded him of a certain robot he once knew.

“He’s a great kid, clever and kind,” she said after a long silence. “You really raised him right.”

Fink scoffed and winked at the moon. “It wasn’t really me who raised him.”

“That’s not how he sees it. He thinks Roz was great, but she couldn’t have done it without you. You’re just as important to him that way. He told me so many stories.”

Digging at a spot in the ground, he did his best not to look too interested. “Yeah? Anything…good?”

She laughed then, softer than usual, but still winning the prize for his very favorite sound in the world. Standing, she came closer and Fink kept still, trying not to breathe too fast as she sat as his side, shoulder to shoulder. She was warm. She smelled like raspberries and snails and something else…something intoxicating. “Well, good enough.”

“So he convinced you I’m not going to eat you.”

“Something like that.”

Ah. He’d have to remember to thank the kid later.

“I’m sorry about earlier, Fink. I didn’t know you didn’t know about–”

“Why do you think nobody would have you?”

Farrah blinked up at him. “What?”

“You said where you were from, nobody would want you. I can’t imagine the kind of idiots you must have grown up around.”

She smiled then, a little sadly, turning her gaze to her paws. “My eyes. Nobody wants a mate with mismatched eyes. They assume I’m blind or can’t see as well as them, that because of it I wouldn’t be able to survive or I’d pass it down to their kits who'd have trouble surviving. It’s not true, but I don’t stand a chance against another vixen with matching eyes. That's nature. I just kind of accepted it.”

“Are you kidding me?” Fink gasped. “Your eyes? But they’re amazing! They’re one of my favorite things about you. They’re–” and then he faltered as she looked up hopefully at him, those bright eyes–one light and one dark–bewitching and so very distinct. And suddenly, all the fear and snark left him as he felt himself turning to pure, dopey goo. “--they’re…beautiful.”

She snuggled into his shoulder then, finally giving in, her tail coming to rest over his, wrapping herself around him. And he marveled at how fast a broken heart can heal up. As if it had never been hurt at all.

Yeah. He was really gonna have to thank that kid.

“I think I’d like to go curl up in bed,” she said, finally breaking free and turning back toward the hut where the warm orange light spilled over the snoring bulk of their bear friend and the nearby soft pile of sleeping geese. “You coming?”

“Ah, I gave my bed to the kids. I’ll probably just sleep in the grass tonight.”

She smiled, her eyes shining in the moonlight. “No you won’t. Not when there’s plenty of room in mine.”

He thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep for joy. Not with his kid home again. Not with all of his friends so close by. Not with his nose buried in the fur of Farrah’s shoulder or the curve of her slumbering body curled up around his own. Not with his heart beating as broadly as it was.

But he did. He slept. Soundly. And well.

____

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Fink and Farrah, illustration by @grogusmum

[icarusredwings]

Fanfic writers understand this struggle.

"Wade wasn't one for scolding kids but -"

Google: erm asktually 🤓☝️ it should be 'Weren't'

Me: ?? O.. kay?? 🤨

"Wade weren't one for scolding kids but-"

Google: Now the fuck did you do that for!? BROTHUA EUGH! Illiterate much!?

Me: BUT YOU JUST TOLD ME TOO

And that's why I don't write with AI spell checkers like grammerly because the robots want to make fun of my mid wrestern/ south heavy accent within my own docs.

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

do robots dream of electric sheep? do robots have nightmares of murders committed in their sleep?

have you slept, or are you afraid of things that in the dark creep?