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deunmiu-dessie · 3 months ago

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𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : in the year 3020, androids of all types are being produced globally. cybernautic technologies (cnt), the leading company in the field, is offering anyone who has bought an android from them the opportunity to be selected as a beta tester for any of their upcoming models at no cost—all you have to do is sign up. while the odds of being chosen are quite low, when cnt has revealed the imminent launch of their latest android, named 'the guard dog.' you arrive home to a large, heavy package bearing the cybernautic technologies logo waiting at your doorstep.

SEPTEMBER 11TH, 3020 ⸺ ANDROMEXUS CITY, FELICITY PORT— THE PROSPECT RESTAURANT | 10:16 PM.

“hello, welcome to the prospect, i’ll be your server for today.”

“will that be all?”

“thank you for dining here at the prospect!”

“what would you like to drink tonight?”

“would you prefer soup or salad?”

“will you be paying in credits?”

“it seems you're low on mexus currency, we’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“here at the prospect, everything is cooked and served by humans.”

“enjoy the rest of your stay here in felicity port.”

⸺⸺⸺⸺ ☙ ⸺⸺⸺⸺

everything slipped by in a haze, a blur of muted colors and indistinct sounds, as if the world outside had faded into a dreamlike state; and you don't remember eating at all today. the gnawing emptiness in your belly screaming for attention is testament to that, your body desperately trying to consume itself whole in mutiny. your fingers glide over the soft fat of your stomach, a tender caress meant to placate the piercing pains and the grumbling whale noises. however, it continues its revolt and doubles its efforts.

as a matter of fact, you couldn't remember if you’d even gone home the day prior or stayed to work through your off hours into this shift. because the moment you clocked in, time seemed nonexistent. hours evaporated into mere moments, while seconds stretched into agonizing eternities, voices overlapped and the heat of the kitchen crept underneath skin and charred bones, words pierced hearts and knives nicked flesh. claret hued blood confused with strawberry puree.

there was no concept of time here at the prospect. you realized that a month into working. after weeks and weeks of grueling work, where each day bled into the next, a nightmarish cycle of labor that left you retching and gasping for air every single time you came home, time seemed to warp and stretch. it felt as if the second you crossed the threshold of your home, you were heading back to work, with barely enough time to brush the smell of puke from your breath. and for the entire bleak month of feburary, you found yourself ensnared in a twisted romance with your bathroom toilet; a tall glass of orange juice- your only companion in this grim affair.

and because there was never a point when the restaurant was empty, there was never a moment when the workers could break. never a moment to catch your breath, to declutter your mind, to steady your heart, never a time to think. thoughts raced like the orders flying out of the kitchen; contemplation was a luxury they could not afford. adapt or face the door—those were the unspoken rules. amy, one of the general managers, often said, “you can rest when you’re six feet under.” ironically, her break arrived just a few months later.

the prospect stood as a rare sanctuary in a world dominated by machines, and was one of the few places that hired humans and humans only. a coveted position here came with a lengthy waiting list, despite the shit wages which barely compensated for the grueling labor. so there was no way you would leave, no way you could quit. besides, it wasn't all bad— it was quite the close-knit family here, and working could be fun most days with the right manager scheduled. and the perks were good enough. you needed the money.

“chica? you leavin’?”

your head swivels tiredly in the direction of the smooth, rich voice of your co-worker nina, her long dark tresses are pulled into a low ponytail, and the familiar piercings that embellish her spheroidal face—tiny silver hoops and delicate studs— have been taken off for the start of her shift, giving her an unexpectedly fresh look. your thoughts scatter the moment you see her, like autumn leaves in a brisk wind, as if attempting to hide from nina's presence despite the woman not being able to hear them.

your hand drops from the hold on your pained stomach, gliding down to the unforgiving chill of the bench beneath you, the shock of the cold metal causes goosebumps to ghost along your skin. when the two of you meet eyes, you can't help but grin teasingly as you respond to her, “mhm, i’m off the next two days as well,” there's a keen lilt to your voice and nina groans, her head teetering back in disbelief, her soft, rounded hands settling defiantly on her curvy hips. nina's gaze resembles deep pools of dark chocolate, rich and indulgent, infused with a small hint of cayenne.

“tell me you're thinkin’ about pickin’ up,” her voice pleads, her curvaceous figure now leaning against the threshold of the changing room. nina’s lips, petite yet full with a pronounced cupid's bow, pull into a soft frown, her chin set and a small dimple forming in the skin.

nina’d been working at the prospect long before you came, but the two of you formed bonds quickly in only a couple of weeks despite the age gap, with her being a few years your senior, the connection felt effortless. “i have a new server comin’ in and i don't want to train him alone, you know how packed we get on saturdays.” she mutters bitterly and your nose scrunches up at the mere idea of having to work on the weekend.

because the prospect was one of the three human ran restaurants in felicity port, that wasn't in the glades, it was bound to be packed and always drew in crowds like moths to a flame. most of the dickheads and drunks came out on the weekends and most workers dreaded being scheduled for it. however, when you and nina were on the clock together, most would leap at the chance to work those nights. you let out a sigh and shake your head, lips pursing and toeing into your beat-up shoes. “i would– you know i would, but cody is on my ass for the amount of overtime i racked up last month, so i can't.”

nina’s forehead gently collides with the door frame as she processes your response, a rhythmic thud echoing in the air. after a few moments, she pivots her head to meet your gaze. “bitch, why do you do these things to me? creo que voy a dejarlo.” the question is filled with exhaustion and slight irritation that has your mouth opening in a boisterous laugh, much to nina's growing irritation. the hispanic woman's hand lifts from its grip on the doorframe, and the middle finger raises slowly, but it only makes you laugh harder as you clutch your weathered tote bag and rise from the cold metal bench. ( i think i'm going to quit. )

you lightly tap the toe of your shoes against the floor before walking towards nina and enveloping her shoulders with your arm, lips pressing to her olive toned cheek as a parting gift, soft chuckles still slipping from your lips. "i'll see you monday, nina." you tell her softly, patting her shoulder, then glide by her, walking to the back door of the restaurant.

SEPTEMBER 11TH, 3020 ⸺ ANDROMEXUS CITY, FELICITY PORT— THE PROSPECT RESTAURANT | 10:45 PM.

there's a chill in the air the moment you cross the threshold into the open, the warm autumn air from early in the morning feels like a figment of your imagination. and for a heartbeat, you linger, eyes lifted to the synthetic trees that stretch toward the artificial night sky, watching the transformation of leaves from vibrant green to fiery red, cascading down to the metallic earth below. where with each leaf that touches the surface, vanishes in a delicate explosion of shimmering blue motes.

the loud hum of machinery, and the occasional chirp of synthetic birds flitting between the branches makes your stomach churn. there was nothing real here.

despite it being deep into the night, felicity port was as bright and loud as ever. known to outsiders as: the place that never sleeps, andromexus city thrummed with life. the sharp sound of flying cars and the whoosh of hoverboards, the loud thrum of the machinery just beneath the metallic sidewalks and roads, the sound of pleasure androids promoting their workplace, and the sound of rowdy human men that came with it. there was never a moment where felicity port was silent, never a moment where shit wasn't happening.

it was a place where dreams were made and also came to die-- everyone yearned to call andromexus city home, yet only a select few could endure its relentless pace. it stopped for no one and at times, you wondered how you managed to survive.

your eyes flit around the darkened alleyway, well as dark as it could get with the flickering glow of promotional drones flying around, their neon signs casting a sharp light. you search intently until your eyes land on what you're looking for, or perhaps, who, you are looking for. with a steady stride, you approach the homeless man, joel, an older gentleman whose wisdom is etched into the lines of his weathered face. yet, despite the knowledge that comes with age, he has found himself adrift in felicity port, stripped of mexus currency and credits. "joel, i got you something to eat."

his lashes, wispy and white as gossamer, flutter before his eyelids lift revealing soft irises of honey brown and milky white. he was blind in one eye. joel's gaze seems to brighten the moment that they find you, a smile pulling at his thin lips, his crooked, yellow teeth on display to give you a warm smile. "you're here," the man murmurs, his voice raspy yet tender, as he shifts slightly beneath the thick blanket, a gift given to him by you.

you can't help the smile that blooms on your face as you crouch before him, rummaging through your well-worn tote bag to retrieve the food you had pilfered from the restaurant kitchen. "i am," you murmur back softly, grabbing his thin hand, blue veins protruding against his flesh. you gently place the hefty weight of the box in his grasp. "enjoy, joel,"

there's a soft pop of your joints when you stand from your crouched position and you grimace softly, hefting your tote bag over your shoulder once more and taking a few steps back from the man. with a swift turn, you exit the alleyway, a smile curling your lips when you hear the faint voice of joel calling out a, 'thank you', the bustling sounds of the street greeting you.

when you first moved to andromexus city, the sounds and smells of felicity port made you nauseous and dizzy. you could barely be outside for more than ten minutes without swallowing down the burning taste of vomit, without having your hands cushioning the weight of your skull in your palms. the lights were too bright, everything too loud, the smell of oil and smoke filling your lungs and clinging to the walls like an unwelcome guest you had been overwhelmed, with no one to help you become accustomed to it.

despite having resided in felicity port for a few years, there was still a dull ache in the back of your head the moment you stepped outside of your apartment. with a gentle shake of your head and a deep sigh, you deftly maneuver through the packed streets of the entertainment district, narrowly dodging teenagers zipping by on hoverboards and gliding on sonic razorblades. this was the familiar rhythm of your day, the 'dream' you had envisioned while living in nebulon city, where the population was only ten thousand.

"i'll take a corndog."

"that'll be five, in mexus currency."

the prices were cheap in felicity port but then again, the food wasn't real out here in the entertainment district. just crafted to resemble the culinary delights of a bygone era, a time when the world still had the animals and resources to create such dishes. you weren't too sure if this was even the original taste of a corndog, with its sweet, bready exterior and the savory meat hidden within, all generously slathered in ketchup and mustard. nothing was real.

as you turn down the familiar street that your apartment rests on, you observe the small android children frolicking on their porches, undeterred by the late hour. sleep was a concept foreign to them, after all; they weren't bound by human needs. your blunt human teeth bite into the familiar taste of the corndog, a treat you always got yourself the moment you got off of work. a soft sound of contentment escaped your lips, chewing slowly as your eyes took in the activity of felicity port.

"excuse me."

"sorry,"

the softness of your lips part to mutter, hips narrowly missing the patrolling security robot as you continue your way down the street. for a fleeting moment, your gaze lingers on the machine before you turn your attention ahead. andromexus city was no stranger to crime; it was a constant presence. it was inevitable with the number of jewle addicts and homeless that took up more than half the population and each night, countless individuals fell victim to theft, losing their credits and mexus currency. thankfully you had never been targeted before.

the moment your apartment complex comes into view, your eyes land on a huge box stationed in front of your door and your lashes flutter, your stomach clenching painfully from hunger. you instinctively press your fingers against your abdomen, trying to ease the discomfort, while you cautiously ascend the stairs to your floor. eyebrows furrowing and footsteps light. you hadn't ordered anything in months, yet with each step, your address becomes more distinct, and your name emerges clearly on the package.

your fingers glide across the surface of the box, your eyes darting around as you absorb its details, eventually settling on the tiny logo of cybernautic technologies nestled in the bottom right corner. your eyebrows lift in soft question before you slide past the box, placing your thumb on the doorknob. the scanner emits a red blinking light until the mechanical sound of your door unlocking is heard and the scanner flashes green.

as you turn the knob and push the door to your apartment ajar, you let your bag tumble to the floor with a soft thud. standing there, hands on your hips, you tilt your head back to scrutinize the top of the box that looms above you, lips trembling as you let out a sigh, muttering softly to yourself, "what the hell are you?"

SEPTEMBER 11TH, 3020 ⸺ ANDROMEXUS CITY, FELICITY PORT— PROXXY STREET | 11:57 PM.

it took more than half an hour for you to drag the box into your apartment and the center of your living room, it was as if it were a leaden weight that clung stubbornly to the ground. you were sure it weighed a ton, and in the process, you had chipped at least two nails.

now, standing before the box with your hip tilted to one side, you were drenched in sweat, your chest rising and falling with exertion. meanwhile, your android dog, who you named willow, was still stationed at its charging station and though the thought of letting her roam free while you tackled the unboxing was tempting, you ultimately decided against it.

walking to the kitchen, your hand instinctively reached for the laser knife nestled in its sheath. with purpose, you returned to the box, carefully slicing along the dotted lines designed for a precise opening of a package from cybernautic technologies. after a few deft cuts, the front of the box fell away, hitting the tiled floor with a resounding thud. your blade followed suit, clattering down just moments later as your gaze finally settled on the imposing figure within the box—a large, burly man, no android, firmly secured within it.

he was naked from his neck to the deep v-line at his hips; from then on he was covered by a pair of cnt boxer briefs that truly left little to the imagination. you swallow thickly, forcing your gaze to remain fixed on his face. he possessed a rugged handsomeness, his dark blonde hair tousled and his lips a delicate shell pink. he looked real, a vividness that made it difficult to believe he was an android. with a trembling hand, you reach up to brush softly against his cheek feeling the chill of his skin—a common trait among androids, especially when they were not connected to their charging stations.

your breath hitches just from the touch of his frigid artificial skin, and your fingertips brush and tap down his flesh until they get to his chest, where you press your palm firmly against him. your eyes remain fixed on his face, tilting your head slightly in a daze, lips slightly parted as your gaze roams over his features, the contours of his jawline, the curve of his lips, and the startling realness of his skin. there was something so different about him compared to the other androids that have been made. your fingers wander over the delicate hairs just below his navel, a soft, almost reverent touch, but then you withdraw your hand abruptly, as if you'd been shocked.

your gaze darts around your living room for a brief moment before it settles on a small envelope glued to the front of the box. in a swift motion, you lower yourself into a crouch, pressing your palm against the sturdy cardboard surface. with your other hand, you carefully peel the letter free, shaky hands, ripping it open, fumbling to get the note out of the envelope before your eyes roam over its contents.

exciting news: you've been selected as a beta user! dear [recipient's name], here at cyberbautic technologies, we’re thrilled to inform you that you have been chosen as a beta user for our latest innovation, the android robot known as "the guard dog." this advanced robot is designed to provide security and companionship in your home. you will have a full week to interact with the guard dog, testing its features and functionalities. we encourage you to explore all its capabilities, which include smart surveillance, voice interaction, personalized security settings and other functions. your feedback is invaluable to us, so please take note of your experiences, any challenges you encounter, and suggestions for improvement. best regards, [your name]

your lips part in a soft movement of disbelief, and your gaze darts back to the android confined within the box, his eyes closed in a serene slumber and framed by long, delicate blonde lashes. everything about him was so big, so masculine, and void of any gentle contours. broad shoulders taper down to a powerful torso, each muscle defined and pronounced and thick, muscular thighs, thick and sturdy.

your eyes travel down to his large hands with blunt fingernails, it reminds you of a life of labor, of toil and effort, as if he wasn't forged from metal and circuitry. each finger is thick and strong, capable of both delicate precision and overwhelming force. a sharp, prominent nose, slightly askew as if it has borne the brunt of countless battles. it was as if he was a greek god sculpted from marble.

letting the letter fall from your hands you walk forward and lean in close, eyes looking for the small power button nestled just beneath and behind his ear. with trembling fingers, slick with sweat, you press it, feeling a bead trickle down your temple. the sound of him powering on reverberates through the confines of your small apartment, and you carefully retreat a step back.

nothing.

no movement, unlike what you’d seen in countless galaxy network videos of android unboxings. your eyebrows twitch as you instinctively move to take a step forward, but then a voice echoes through the air—dark, deep, and tinged with a rough accent. it sent a warm wave of heat unfurling within your stomach, leaving you momentarily breathless. hand pressing to your heart to calm the fierce thumping.

“standby mode: off.”

a gentle hum emanates from his internal mechanisms and as if awakening from a deep slumber, his eyes slowly open, the brown irises glowing a pale blue, while streams of programming code flicker rapidly across their surface. you watch as his chest slowly starts to move, as if he is mimicking the act of breathing. and the moment you step closer, you can feel the heat rolling off his body in waves.

“performing quick self-diagnostic check.”

crouching, you retrieve the laser knife from the floor. you approach the android, your heart racing as you carefully slice through the straps binding his arms; descending back down to also cut the straps from his ankles; making sure to avoid looking anywhere below his waist. once the android is free from his bindings, you swiftly retreat a few paces, creating distance between you and the now-unrestrained figure.

“diagnostics complete.”

the gruff, deep, accented, and almost monotonous sound of his voice sends a chill racing down your spine, and the scent of pine and something akin to smoke invades your nose and lungs. then his brown eyes, so life-like and dark, are on yours, with an intensity that is hard to ignore. your eyes widen when he speaks, trying your hardest to keep your eyes on his face, “id code: #a36h920tr, you have been selected as a beta user for my model, ‘the guard dog,’ set to launch in the fall of next year. i am the only one of my kind and have been named, simon.”

what exactly have you signed up for?

your mouth gapes like a fish out of water, while your eyes blink in a startled manner, akin to an owl's gaze, as a tightness grips your throat, a constricting band that makes it feel as though you are being choked by an unseen force, “y-yes, my name is [your name].” you mutter, heart thudding so hard in your chest, it’s almost painful.

“your heart rate is above the normal range. initiatin’ a complete body scan for owner: [your name].”

hot. your flesh felt like it was peeling from your bones, dissolving into a pile of gore at your feet. you wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole. he was an android, he wasn’t real, just a mere construct of metal and circuits, yet he appeared so convincingly lifelike, both in appearance and sound, that it was disorienting. you could almost convince yourself he was real, as real as the oppressive warmth surrounding you. with a sharp intake of breath, you cleared your throat and raised your hand, halting his scanning gaze. “no! i’m fine, it’s just…hot.” you mutter sheepishly.

simon’s gaze is an unwavering, dark pit, drawing you in with an intensity that felt almost otherworldly. as if he could ask you to do something and you would, without hesitation. the way he spoke, low and deep, growly and gruff, like distant thunder, set all of your nerves on fire and scorched your bones to the marrow.

the two of you are silent for a moment, and you catch a glimpse of the android's gaze flickering momentarily to your breasts and thighs, see the soft clenching of his large hands, yet, just as quickly, his eyes return to meet yours. your lips part and his eyes follow dutifully, taking in the softness of your mouth, the delicate curve of your lips, the gentle nervous breath that escapes, and the slight peek of your pink human tongue. you wonder what thoughts race through his mind, what algorithms are at play as he watches you. wonder if he's aware of the way your skin tingles under his gaze.

was it even possible to have sexual tension with a damn robot?

you practically jump out of your skin when he shifts, thick powerful legs, connecting to a tapered waist, emerging from the confines of the box. in response, you step back, wide eyes on his. then his whole body is out, and somehow he seems bigger than he was before– it's as if he takes up all the space in your small apartment. you can't help the breath of awe that escapes, or the way your eyes trail down his neck, past the swell of his adams apple, before settling on the impressive contours of his chest.

there's something akin to amusement that seems to swirl in his eyes when you find his gaze again, that and something…dark, in a way. just as you prepare to speak, a subtle flash of red flickers from just behind and beneath his ear.

“my power level ‘s low,” he informs you, and you respond with a nod, feeling somewhat foolish as you remain rooted to the spot. his eyes narrow, like a predator watching prey, prompting you to finally break the silence. you wipe your sweaty palms on the back of your pants. “right, sorry. uh, i have a charging pad, just, um–” you motion towards the corner of the living room where your android dog was stationed on a charging port.

simon’s head cranes to look where you point and he lets out a soft, deep grunt before his dark eyes find yours, and it steals your breath, and causes heat to blossom between the apex of your thighs. you shake your head, attempting to dispel the swirling thoughts, and cautiously maneuver around him, you can’t help but notice the way his gaze follows you, breath hitching when you hear him take in a soft inhale of your scent.

you quickly make your way to the charging pad and gently pick up willow, cradling her plush body to your chest and stepping out of the way. “you can charge now, simon.” you murmur, pivoting to meet his gaze. however, he's already bridged the gap, now merely a foot away. the artificial warmth radiating from him sends a wave of dizziness through you, mingling with the earthy scent of pine and smoke that clings to his frame. he’s a massive android, perhaps the biggest creation cybernautic technologies has made.

a small startled sound escapes your mouth and you instinctively shuffle away, your back pressing against the cool surface of the wall. he looks as if he’s going to eat you whole, ravage your body, and leave you as nothing more than a heap of overstimulated flesh. you swallow thickly and his intense gaze flits down to your throat. there's a stall in his mechanics, you notice the way a vivid purple light flickers from his power button and turn red before his dark eyes finally break away from yours, and he strides toward the charging pad, the 'muscles' in his jaw tightening.

“standby mode: on.”

with a trembling inhale, you observe his eyelids fluttering close, and his chest stopping its movement; almost as if he were no longer alive. the moment simon is charging, you exhale sharply, pressing a hand against your heart, holding willow close.

“i think i’m gonna pass out.”

SEPTEMBER 12TH, 3020 ⸺ ANDROMEXUS CITY, FELICITY PORT— PROXXY STREET | 4:09 AM.

you're not sure what the time is or why you woke up, but your lashes flutter, and the stark white ceiling comes into focus, the shadows of your room slowly receding. despite the warmth from your comforter, you can feel a brush of cool air over your collarbones. your eyes glide around your room, groggily taking in the dark chamber before landing on a massive, bulky figure looming at the foot of your bed.

a scream lodges its way in your throat, attempting to claw its way out, but before it can break free, a deep, gravelly voice cuts through the tension. “your heart rate is elevated, and your stress hormones are off the charts. you’re frightened,” he states, his tone almost indifferent. you swallow hard, the scream lodged deep within you, your heart racing and your skin flushing with heat. “what the hell are you doing in my room?” you murmur, sitting up slowly in bed.

“i am programmed to always be within a certain range of you, sweetheart.” he states gruffly, his voice, while panty-dropping, had a bit of sass to it. “this ‘s a setting that can’t be overridden.” simon finishes, and you can feel his eyes on you, roaming over the exposed skin of your body, it sends a delightful shiver down your spine.

sweetheart? did he just call you sweetheart? why were your nipples getting hard right now?

you swallow thickly, and stretch your hand to flick on the lamp beside your bed, the soft click seemingly loud in your ears and the warm light chasing away shadows. you feel the pressure of your teeth against the inside of your cheek as you steal a glance at him, he’s still only clad in his cnt boxers, all tight to his skin. quickly, you avert your eyes, focusing instead on his face, before you can get anywhere lower.

the two of you stare at one another, his gaze, deep and smoldering, as if he could see straight into your soul, felt like having sex with just a look. it felt like his hands were sliding tantalizingly along your skin, tracing every curve, while his lips and tongue roamed your breasts with a fervor that sent shivers down your spine. you could smell his scent, pine, and smoke, engulfing you, threatening to suffocate you. was it possible to get turned on by just staring at someone? you could almost feel the weight of his hands, the way they would explore, mapping out the contours of your form with a deftness that no human could match.

you shattered the stillness, your gaze lingering a moment longer before you gestured toward the bed, right at your feet. “you can sit here.” you say softly, breath hitching as he swiftly follows your ‘command’, his huge body moving with the grace of a feline, that belied his size as he stalks over to the bed, the mattress dipping heavily and your bed frame creaking and groaning in protest under his weight. the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast gentle shadows across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze.

he’s close, way closer than you’d thought he’d be, so much so that his body heat seeped through the comforter and warmed your bones. you clear your throat and attempt to steel your frazzled nerves. “y-you feel…different, from the other androids cnt has made.” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you shifted beneath the sheets, rising onto your knees on the bed, the fabric rustling softly. you could feel his gaze on you, a steady presence that made your skin tingle. “…more real.” you hesitate, searching for the right words. “it feels like you're not just a collection of algorithms and circuits. you… you have a presence, a warmth that makes me forget you’re not human.”

“recent advancements have led to the development of new formulas that enhance androids with more human-like traits and emotions. we are now modeled after humans who are meticulously chosen through a rigorous selection process and subsequently analyzed across various disciplines to evaluate their characteristics.” simon replies smoothly, his gaze briefly dancing over the soft curves of the exposed plush of your thighs before they’re back on yours. had they not been basing androids off of humans this whole time? what does it mean to be human in a world where androids can evoke such genuine feelings? the warmth of his presence envelops you, and for a fleeting moment, you forget the boundaries that separate flesh from circuitry.

your breath snags in your throat, and heat engulfs the entirety of your body, your lips parting and your gaze stuck on his. he wasn’t flesh and blood; he was an android, a mere machine, yet the desire to reach out and touch him surged within you, stronger than anything you had ever felt, never wanted to be touched the way you wanted him to touch you, it felt almost primal. you blamed it on being a sex-deprived woman. there weren't many choices here in felicity port. in this city, where the neon lights flickered like distant stars and the hum of machinery drowned out the whispers of the heart, you had learned to navigate the loneliness that surrounded you.

"can i touch you?" your lips part, and the words tumble out before you can catch them. you notice the brief pause in his software, and see the vibrant purple glow that dances at his power button before it shifts to a deep crimson. you wonder what that meant, wonder if he's thinking about what type of touch you're talking about. you don't retract your words, hell you don't speak at all; just sit there with a bated breath, eyes flickering over his face.

"yes."

his reply is husky and deep, dark brown eyes glued to yours, and you feel a flutter of fear, afraid that if you look away, you'll wake up and realize that this is all a dream. that simon wasn't really here in your bedroom, clad in only tight boxer briefs, and eye fucking you. his eyes roam over the bare skin of your thighs, lingering as if memorizing every inch, every curve, and his large hand twitches, as if he’s fighting an internal battle, and there's a vivid flash of purple before it ignites red. the room feels smaller, the walls closing in as the space between you shrinks.

you shift your knee forward, inching closer, the fabric of your night dress gliding up to expose more of your skin, more and more until your knees rest against the warmth of his bare thigh. the eye contact makes your entire body thrum with burning heat, his eyes never veering from yours; his large hands pressed to the tops of his thick, muscular thighs. his body swamps yours entirely- and you were nowhere near small—despite your own size, you feel dwarfed by his sheer strength, and the sight sends a rush of heat pooling in your panties. you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be enveloped in his embrace, to have those strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer still. have his tantalizing scent—warm, musky, and undeniably masculine— invading your senses.

simon watches as your human hand comes up to shakily brush against his skin, your fleshy lips parted to take in shallow breaths, your slender throat and face flushed with heat. he can see inside of you, see the thumping of your heart, the speed at which it increases, the surge of testosterone coursing through you. can smell the heat of your skin, the sweet scent of your body wash, his senses study it and he recognizes it as sugared lavender, milk, and honey. every detail becomes magnified—the way your eyelashes flutter, the slight quiver of your lips, the way your breath catches in your throat as you meet his gaze.

the subtle rise of your chest with each breath, the gentle flutter of your heartbeat, and the way your eyes sparkle with emotion—all of it pulls him deeper into a realm he has only observed from a distance. he can feel the real warmth of a human, not his synthetic core that heats his body, and it's starkly different, it overwhelms him for a fleeting instant, causing a momentary short circuit in his system. can see the difference between the soft rise and fall of your chest compared to his fake breathing, the delicate curve of your breasts--

this is what he was based on, a human. and he couldn't compare, not in the slightest. you were the blueprint. he felt himself utterly lacking. simon can't help but lean his cheek into your palm when you shakily press it to his face, feeling the delicate contours of your fingerprints against his skin, each ridge and curve imprinted itself in his mind, and commits this entire moment to memory.

your fingers brush and trail over the expanse of his face, tracing the contours of his forehead, the sturdy line of his chin, the defined angles of his jaw, and his cheekbones. finally, they linger on his lips, a delicate shell pink, inviting, and soft. he watches you, despite your gaze following the soft line of your fingers on his artificial skin, he watches you as if it’s the last thing he’ll be able to do.

out of the corner of your eye, a flicker of purple catches your attention before it ignites into a vivid red, his hands clenching when it happens, as if frustrated. curious, you trail your hand down his cheek and behind his ear, to where it flashes; before you can utter a word, his voice, deep and rough, fills the air. “can i touch you?”

your heart stops and skips all in the same breath and you nod, captivated as he turns his body toward you, his gaze never leaving yours. simon’s large hand rises to cradle your cheek, it’s a confident movement that sends a shiver down your spine, his thumb brushing over the true warmth of skin. his long, sturdy fingers then meander along the curve of your nose, tracing the delicate arch of your brows, and as his fingers glide around your eye, you can’t help but close them for a brief moment, surrendering to the sensation of his touch. his fingers finally rest on your lips, a gentle yet possessive gesture that sends a rush of warmth through your entire being.

he wonders what it would feel like to have them wrapped around his--

your lips are plush and fleshy, and he can’t help but drag your bottom lip down gently with his thumb, revealing the delicate curve of your gums and the soft pink of your tongue. simon releases your lip, his hand gliding down your slender neck, fingers pressed to the rapid thumping of your pulse before his fingers trace the delicate line of your collarbone.

“you’re nervous.” simon states gruffly, his voice rumbling with a hint of authority as he observes, fingers sliding down your neck, a warm, deliberate touch that glides to your side, where they press into the gentle curve of your waist, kneading the soft flesh of your abdomen with a firm yet tender grip. there's a weight to his tone, a certainty that makes you feel seen in a way that both comforts and unnerves you.

“you make me nervous,” you whisper, your breath hitching as your fingers fumble to clutch his shoulders, when his hand trails over the soft, covered underside of your ass, fingers dancing lower until they flit over the back of your bare thigh. the power button just beneath his ear pulses a soft purple, flickering repeatedly before it finally shifts to a deep red.

curious, you press your fingers softly to it, nails pressing gently into his skin. “what does that mean?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, your mind swirling with the intoxicating scent of him, at how close you are to him. a small voice in the back of your mind reminds you that this simon is merely an android, a fleeting creation destined to vanish in a week, not truly yours. but you wanted him all the same.

“the filters installed in my hardware are functioning properly.” simon says gruffly, his fingers brushing against your thigh with a restless energy. “if the thoughts that i have of you or the touches that i attempt t’express conflict with the filter; i’ll recalibrate.”

“w-what kind of thoughts?” you whisper, throat bobbing as you swallow the lump that’s formed. his jaw tightens, and his gaze locks onto yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “i’ve wanted my coc–.” simon’s power button flickers to life, glowing a deep purple before shifting to a fierce red. he’s silent for only a moment, then his jaw sets even harder. “the filters installed in my hardware are functioning properly.” simon restates and you nod loosely, briefly wondering if there was a way to turn it off that— no, what the hell were you thinking?

yet, before you can rein in your thoughts, your lips part, and the words tumble out in a rush, "is there a way to turn it off?"

a/n : ya'll...why is the smut killing me? like, i enjoyed writing the plot but then i get to the smut and i'm like...meh. is it cause that's all i post? maybe. anyways! i'll write the second part one of these days, but i wanted to post this cause i love it so much. (did i do some clickabit? absolutely)

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d3vilcvntz · 8 months ago

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hi if you're interested would you write anything for a clingy sub aki from chainsaw man? maybe ami woke them up from a nightmare or something or came home late and is craving them? thanks!

top male reader x sub aki csm

cw; somnophilia

you and aki have been together for almost a year now. everything were fine in the relationship except for the fact that both of you barely see each other anymore despite living together. both of you were busy working so the only time you see each other are early in the morning. your work always ended around 9pm and aki's work ended past midnight when you're already asleep. he won't admit it but he really miss you and your touch.

you were already asleep when he got home, slowly making his way to your shared bed so he won't wake you up. putting his hand on your face,moving your hair to the side so he can see your face better

"i miss you" he murmured, kissing you on your lips.

he really shouldn't be doing this but you did told him that it's okay to do this if he can't handle it on his own so, it should be fine right ? he won't do this if you don't agree to it in the first place.

slowly pulling your trousers down, revealing the bulge in your boxer. he can't wait for you to be inside him, it's all he's been thinking about all day while he was working ♡

"still asleep?" he whispered, looking at your face, eyes still shut, deep in sleep. you were always a heavy sleeper

pulling your boxer down to reveal your cock. he slowly stroked your cock and gave it a few licks on the tip

he stroke your cock faster as he started to prepare himself. inserting his own fingers in his hole, preparing to take your huge cock inside him <3 after what feels like hours for him, he finally got on top of you, slowly sinking down on your cock, hole already prepared to take you deep in him

putting his hand on his mouth to stop himself from making too much noises. he doesn't want you to see him being all pathetic like a slut !

desperately trying to get himself off, playing with his nipple, his other hand playing with his own cock while he rides you as you suddenly he grabbed his hip and thrusts deeper into him, finally awake from your deep sleep.

pushing him to lay on the bed as you press his legs close to his chest, ramming into his hole as he dig his nails into your back, probably will leave marks later on but who cares right ?

slamming your cock one last time as you came deep inside him as he came all over himself, painting his own face and chest with his cum.

"welcome back" you said to him as he smiled at you and drag you to lay down with him <3 you definitely can get used to this.

#sub character #top reader #top male reader #d3vilcvntz's works

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doverstar · 11 months ago

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youtube

it's that time of year again

#you're welcome!#every time I hear this song I remember them doing this #doctor who #amy pond #karen gillan #arthur darville #eleventh doctor #matt smith #rory williams #dw #christmas #Youtube

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txttletale · 11 months ago

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how would you recommend watching doctor who? there are so many different guys idk how it works.

so the thing about doctor who is that there's two shows -- classic who (1963-1989, doctors 1-7) and new who (2005-2023, doctors 9-14). due to a renumber of the seasons and a change in production company, i think it's fair to call the upcoming version of who (2023-??, doctors 15-??) its own, third show. the reason it's been able to run for so long is that when the show's lead actor, (william hartnell as the titular doctor) had to step down in 1966 due to failing health, they made up some sci-fi bullshit: the doctor's species can 'regenerate' instead of dying, instantly healing but changing their appearance and some of their personality. this means that every time a lead actor has walked away (or, in one unfortuante case, been fired) the show's just recast the doctor and moved on, often with notable changes in tone and format.

the easiest option if you don't want to backwatch anything is to start with this year's christmas special, the church on ruby road (2023). it's an obvious jumping on point to the series, introduces you to all the basic stuff (the doctor, the TARDIS, the fact that it's a silly sci-fi show about fighting weird rubber prop critters), and presumably sets up the upcoming season 1 of the disney-bad wolf version of the show that's gonna come out in may 2024.

if you do want to backwatch, you have to decide if you want to start with new who or classic who. i personally would recommend starting with new who, because there's less of it, it's got higher production values, and (imo this is the biggest obstacle to getting into classic who) it's paced in a way that makes much more sense to a modern TV viewer (self-contained 45-minute episodes). also once you're invested in the show, its main character, and some of its classic elements, you get to soyjak at the screen whenever you're watching classic who and you get to see the oirign of a monster you already recognize. you can also skip classic who entirely and never watch it, they don't bring up anything from it in the new series without giving it a new explanation, but if you do this you hate fun.

anyway, starting points for nuwho: the most obvious one is rose (2005). it's the pilot episode for the new show and imo it holds up brilliantly -- it introduces all the most basic concepts of the show, but ultimately it's really all about billie piper and cristopher eccleston's performances and they deliver. the special effects are gonna be pretty terrible for a while because it's early 2000s cg. there's no jumping on point like it for the whole of RTD's run of the show (imo, the best run of nuwho) so if you want to watch seasons 1-4 you've gotta start on rose.

another episode that's written as a jumping on-point is (heavy sigh) the eleventh hour (2011). as well as introducing matt smith's doctor and his companion amy, this also does the whole rigamarole of introducing the show's core elements, giving a nutshell recap of its history in the form of the doctor's rooftop speech, and also signal what the oncoming moffat era is going to be like (whimsical, full of complex time travel plots, way more misogynist). i'm biased -- i'm a hater, one of this episode's central plot conceits sucks real bad and i also hate the eleventh doctor's whole run. but it is meant to be a jumping on point.

there won't be another one of those in nuwho until the pilot (2017). this begins moffat's final season with which he made the odd but extremely welcome decision to jettison all his convoluted continuity shit from the last five seasons and refocus the show with the doctor being a professor at bristol university with a mysterious secret. i think season 10 is a hidden gem and if you find starting from rose daunting this is the next best place to pick up. capaldi's doctor is a delightful abrasive eccentric with a heart of gold at this point in his run & the stories are wall-to-wall bangers with only a couple misses.

finally, you could start on the woman who fell to earth (2018), the first episode to feature jodie whittaker's 13th doctor and head writer chris chibnall. i'd recommend this even less than the eleventh hour, because while i actually like it more, i think it's a much worse preview of what the upcoming era is going to be like than that one. if you watch the woman who fell to earth and keep watching from the start of whittaker's run on the show off the back of it, you're going to be severely disappointed as most of the more promising aspects of the episode get instantly abandoned.

so, summary, if you're starting with nuwho, there's five jumping on points, which i'd rank:

rose > the pilot > the church on ruby road > the eleventh hour > the woman who fell to earth

but i want to start with classic who because i'm a contrarian

alright. classic who also has a few jumping off points -- before i mentioned them, let me just talk about that format thing i mentioned earlier. classic who doesn't have self-contained episodes for the most part, but rather for most of its run told each of its episodic narratives across between two and seven 20-minute episodes. this leads to a lot of weird pacing, forced cliffhangers, and infamously a lot of filler shots of the doctor running up and down identical corridors. so obvsies i'm recommending entire stories here nad not individual episodes. that said, let's look at where you could jump on:

an unearthly child (1963). this is, like, the start of the show. that said i don't recommend it as a place to start (funnily enough), for a couple reasons. firstly, because of dreadful fucking archiving by the BBC, a lot of episodes from the show's first six seasons are straight up missing. some of them have been animated by the BBC from surviving audio recordings, but some of them are just straight up lost -- due to the format, this means there's very few full complete stories, which makes this whole era really hard to navigate. if you don't mind that and really want to start in the black and white era, i'd still recommend the tomb of the cybermen (1967) instead -- hartnell's portrayal of the doctor as a haughty, slightly impish old professor is great, but troughton basically defined the character's core traits for the next sixty years.

spearhead from space (1970) is a pretty big format upheaval for the show and so serves as a pretty great classic jumping-on point. it's the first episode to be in colour, and sets up a new status quo for the doctor as being trapped on earth and working for an elite paramlitary organization called UNIT that operates out of a ratty office. it's an interesting premise that the show gets some great stories out of. the special effects are bad in the best way. pertwee has instant charm in the role and it's all around a banger by classic standards.

if you want to jump right to the one all the boomers are nostalgic for, you can also start with robot (1974). i wouldn't recommend it, though--tom baker is electric in the role from the start, but the episode itself kind of assumes a lot of the context of the third doctor's setup and supporting cast which you're not gonna have.

i wouldn't recommend anyone start at any point during the fifth or sixth doctors runs because i want them to actually like the show, so i guess the last jumping on point i could really recommend after robot would be, like, dragonfire (1987), which heralds the show's short-lived renaissance with the seventh doctor and his best companion, ace. but although you'd be watching some of the absolute best the classic show ever gets, it feels like it would be a weird and disorienting place to start.

finally, you could watch tales of the tardis (2023), a limited series produced to celebrate the show's 60th anniversary. each episode follows the same format: through a vaguely handwaved Palace of Memories plot, two much-aged characters from the classic series meet up and fondly remember one of the adventures they shared. the bookends with the original actors are mostly shameless fanservice, but the episodes they're reminiscing about are superbly edited down into a much more watchable format -- it works as a good 'sample platter' for most eras of the show (although, weirdly, there wasn't anything from tom baker's run!) and i think it honestly wouldn't be a bad shout to just start from tales of the tardis and then keep watching from whichever of the stories featured in it you liked most. that all said, if you want to start with classic who, i'd rank these jumping on points as follows:

spearhead from space > tales of the tardis > tomb of the cybermen > dragonfire > robot > an unearthly child

all that shit said it's fundamentally a very episodic show with very few exceptions like trial of a time lord and whatever moffat was doing seasons 6-7 so in the end you can basically just start with any episode and more or less get some of the idea. have fun and make sure to do the most important job of a doctor who fan, update the tardis wiki page for penis whenever one is mentioned

#ask #doctor who #long post #doctor who starting points

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mitraclueless · 1 month ago

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The Encounter of Two Flames Day 6

Sitri's name was given by Satan

These lil dudes are such a mood

"Love at first sight" HE SAID IT WOOHOO

Levi???

I have the same question

That's why

I'M CACKLING AT THESE TWO-

"I'm the first one that got you, so you're mine" ahh line

"Come back to me" ahh line #2

Levi: Lovebirds

Here's a timeline thingy

Satan and Sitri's first meeting, Sitri got sent to Hades (Satan and Sitri event) ➡ Sitri came back from Hades, Satan welcoming him home, Amy and Sitri's first meeting (Amy and Sitri event) ➡ Paradise Lost event ➡ Niflheim event ➡ and it goes on and on and on

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb update #whb event #whb spoilers #whb satan #whb sitri #whb mammon #whb leviathan #satan x sitri

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cinnamon-stixs · 1 month ago

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TADC EPISODE 3 HAS DRIVEN ME INSANE SO HERES A REALLY LONG RANT ABOUT ALL THE THINGS I NOTICED!!

-The horror visuals fucking SLAYED. SLAY.

-I LOVE that Ragatha loves horror and Pomni HATES it.

-"Zooble turns straight" 10/10 line.

-2 new points of evidence for the NPC!Jax theory: He acknowledges the audience directly, and refuses to share what happens when he holds his breath. This could be shown as a similar clue to him not having a visible room on his enamel pin art.

-Caine made a scary adventure just to get zooble interesteddd 😭❤️

-Gangle's comedy mask can just be ripped off of her face??

-Ragatha's face, I love her

-Caine has a fundamental inability to understand other people's emotions and empathize. Neurodivergent coded king I love him

-Kinger says "I'm starting to think" when they first enter the scary room, and not only is it funny as hell, IT WAS ALSO FORESHADOWING?!

-Kinger is VERY aware of the game mechanics in the world around him

Oh how I love you, Pomni.

-I LOVE THE LITTLE 2D ANIMATED SECTION OF THE EYES

"You look beautiful honey.." KILLING MYSELF. AUGH. POOR BABY..

-"Any torture I inflict is 100% accidental! like any good war criminal!"

-Zooble's trans/dysphoria allegory with their digital body has my whole heart

THEY DID NOT DESERVE THIS.

"What you're saying could imply that I'm bad at.. they only thing I'm good at..." HE IS SO ME FR WHAT THE FUCK. I THINK I KIN HIM WHOOPSIES

-I think Mr. Mildenhall's story reflects kinger's more than we think.

-Living for Pomni and Kinger's father-daughter dynamic

She's hot.

Kinky! (looks like something Amy would do to him)

-THE POSSESSION SCENE WAS SO COOL?

-So he was hitting pomni! I remember a lot of debate about that.

-Kinger and Queenie were canonically married

-Kinger took 7 years of computer science

-Kinger has a SURPRISING amount of emotional intelligence.

-BEING IN THE DARK REMINDS OF HIM OF HIS LAST MOMENT WITH HIS WIFE I'M FUCKING CRYINGGG

-Kinger hated bugs, but now he loves them because they're a subconscious reminder of his entomology loving wife.

-The line "In this world, the worst thing you can do I make someone feel like they're not wanted or loved" paired with Mr. Mildenhall's story of mistaking his wife for the monster and killing her makes me think Kinger caused Queenie to abstract somehow.

"Don't worry about me. As long as you remember, things will be okay. You're very strong pomni." ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Pomni canonically hates physical tough, but felt trusting and comfortable enough with Kinger to hold his hand.

Fucking sapphics

"FUCK-"

-Caine turning Zooble's therapy session into his own is so him omg

-"Welcome back my meowing milkmaids!" CRAZY.

-Kinger's new side wasn't actually all that surprising. Neither was him being the 'supportive dad' type. but i LOVE it

-KINGER VINYL FIGURE AHH NEED!!

This is my fave episode so far!! I love this show augh

#the amazing digital circus #tadc caine #tadc kinger #tadc pomni #tadc ragatha #tadc gangle\#tadc jax #tadc zooble

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miryum · 3 months ago

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"Halloween II"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

“Oh, hey there, Captain.” Y/n strolled into Wayne’s office without knocking. “Just curious, do you know what day it is?”

Captain Wayne slowly looked up. “Well, based on the fact that a week ago it was October twenty-fourth, it's say today is…”

Y/n interrupted him. “It's Halloween,” she said bluntly. “Just say it's Halloween.”

“It's Halloween.”

“Aaaaaand what happened last Halloween?”

Wayne sighed. “Last year, you bet me that you could steal my medal of valour. And you did. Consequently, I was forced to do your paperwork for a week and to say words I thought I'd never have to say: Y/n L/n is an amazing detective-slash-genius.”

“But now it's time for round two of our Halloween bet!” Y/n announced. “This year, I believe I'll make things more difficult for myself. Let's say, what, I steal the watch right off your wrist.” She eyed the golden watch on Bruce’s wrist.

“Or we could just not do it at all this year.” Wayne shrugged.

“What?” Y/n exclaimed. “Sir, with all due respect, come on, man!”

“It's not worth it just so you might call me an amazing captain-slash-genius and give me one week of overtime for free.”

“All right, fine, I'll double the overtime,” she cried. “I'll triple it! I'll quadrupal it! I will five-drupal it. I'll five-drupal the overtime.” Wayne looked up, catching her eye. “Oop. Got his attention! He's coming back to me….”

“Just to clarify. If you steal my watch by midnight, I will do your paperwork for a week, but if you fail, you give me five weeks of overtime for free.” He raised his brows.

“Correct.”

“I'm doing a cost-benefit analysis in my head… The benefits outweigh the costs. We have reached an accord.”

“Accords!” Y/n yelled out in victory, pumping her fist in the air.

“Greetings, comrades,” Y/n strolled into the briefing room, wearing a three-piece tuxedo and top hat. “And welcome to the most important briefing of your lives. As you all know, the Wayne-L/n Halloween bet has been made, and the clock… doth… tick.”

“What's with the tux?” Jason leaned back in his chair, feet kicked up on the table. Damian, who was sitting next to him, pushed Todd’s feet off the table.

“I decided to class up this year's event. If I look the part, I’ll be the part.”

“What’s the part?” Cass snickered. “A bad magician from the fifties?”

Y/n rolled her eyes and ignored her friend. “Let's get down to business. To defeat… the Huns! Anyway, I've been planning this for three months. And yes, Dick, that’s what I’ve been doing instead of work. You've all been given a specific role and a code name. Cass, you're Orphan. Sarge, Nightwing. Jason, my love, you’re Red Hood. Timmy, Red Robin- yes like the chain restaurant. Stop complaining. Steph, you will be Spoiler. Dami… I didn’t count on you wanting to help me. But no matter. You’ll be Robin.” They all nodded, Steph shooting her a thumbs-up and Damian protesting about the similarities between his and Tim’s nicknames. “Now, because of last year, Captain will suspect that you guys are helping me, so we’ll never get anywhere near his watch. However, the actual theft will be pulled off by Bart Allen, aka ‘The Flash!’”

Bart sauntered in, grinning. “How you doing? Call me ‘Flash.’”

“Hey, I remember this guy,” Jason scooted forward, glaring at Bart.

“That's probably because you've arrested him twice for pickpocketing,” Y/n didn’t meet Jason’s eye, chuckling unevenly.

“You have a criminal helping you? That's crazy!” Jason jumped up, hand flying to his belt. He didn’t know what he would grab- his gun, his taser, or what- but he was ready.

“Grow up, Jason.” Y/n scoffed. “Now, we will all work together to move the Captain into position. Once there, The Flash (loving that code name) will remove the Captain’s watch and replace it with this replica watch.” She reached into her pocket and withdrew a satin box which held a copy of Wayne’s watch.

The team still seemed unconvinced. “Y/n,” Tim asked, “if he's been arrested before, are you sure he’s any good?”

Y/n presented proudly, “perhaps this will answer your question. Flash!”

Bart smirked and pulled out Dick’s wedding ring, Jason’s wallet, Tim’s notepad, Steph’s hair tie, and even Damian’s knife. He was too scared to take anything from Cass.

“Dami, why do you have a knife?”

“Nevermind that.”

“Great!” Y/n cried. “Let's win this bet!”

Y/n jumped in front of Wayne’s window and greeted him in a posh accent. “Salutations, Cap-i-tan. I was wondering, perchance, if thou would like to join thine in attending the ballet this fine eve?”

Wayne stayed in his seat. “I'll pass, choosing instead to stay in my locked office with my watch still safely on my wrist.” He held up his fist, displaying the watch, still on his wrist.

“I had a feeling you might say that.” Y/n raised a brow, a glimmer of a smile on her face. It was all going according to plan. “Thusfore, I have brought the glorious ballet to you, featuring our own lovely Cassandra Cain.”

Cass, dressed in tights and her black t-shirt, waved awkwardly to her Capitan before Y/n pressed a button on a comically large boombox and Swan Lake played on the speaker. Cass hopped into fifth position before elegantly beginning the dance.

Y/n watched, entranced for a moment before remembering her plan and speaking into her comms, “Now, Red Hood! Go, go!” Jason knelt before Wayne’s office door and smashed it with a chisel and hammer, effectively making a small hole in the door. “Go Red Robin!” Tim somersaulted and pushed a smoke bomb into the hole, smoking Wayne out. Steph marched a line of criminals past Wayne’s path, blocking his way and pushing him back towards his fumed office. Dick dropped a bag of marbles from up in the ceiling, creating a minefield of slipperiness. Damian piloted a drone which “accidentally” crashed into Flash, an “innocent” bystander, who fell over dramatically. Damian pushed the controls into Steph’s hands, blaming her.

“L/n, that's enough!” Captain Wayne shouted.

“Ooh, that’s his angry voice.” Y/n hissed. Swan Lake continued playing in the background until she shut off the boombox.

“Sir, I am so sorry.” Wayne helped Bart up, apologising profusely. Bart slipped Bruce’s watch off his wrist and slid it into his own pocket.

“I just wanted somebody to check my son's candy,” Bart explained.

“Please, let me help you. On behalf of the sixty-sixth, forgive us.”

Flash presented the watch to Y/n behind his back. Y/n whispered victoriously into the comms, “Flash has grabbed the package!”

“I'll have someone check your son's bag of candy immediately,” Wayne reassured Bart. “If you need anything, please, contact me.” Wayne pulled aside another officer and handed the bag of candy to him. “Duke, the candy.”

“I'll do that. Thank you.”

Bart shook Captain Wayne’s hand again and flipped the replica watch onto the latter’s wrist.

“The replica is on.” Y/n grinned. “Game over.”

Wayne turned to his officers and they all stood at regretful attention. “I know this was all done in the spirit of a friendly bet, but it went too far. Am I understood? L/n?” His voice was low and menacing.

“Yes, sir. Completely understood, sir.” Y/n hung her head. “I'm sorry.” She muttered under her breath, “but not as sorry as you're going to be at midnight, when you realise you've lost everything.”

Later, she strolled into records and leaned on the desk. Steph skipped in after her. “Hello there, Barbara, my lovely work wife. I believe a tall, nimble-fingered man named Bart Allen left a package for me.”

“Yeah, it's here! Give me one second.” Barbara smiled and dug under her desk, pulling out the satin box.

“Thank you! Here we go.” She opened the box and frowned. “That's weird, it's just a note. ‘Thanks for the watch?’ Oh, shit!” She stamped her foot. “Allen stole the Captain's watch!” She took a deep breath and tried to think rationally. “We're okay. It's not over yet. I still have two hours to find Flash and get Wayne’s watch back.”

“But how?” Stephanie raised a brow. “He could be anywhere! He could be in Canada by now. There’re so many forests up there. It’s like one giant hiding place.”

“Steph, you’re not helping my anxiety right now.” Y/n bounced on the balls of her feet. “Okay, let's look up Allen’s arrest records, past addresses, known associates, et cetera.”

“L/n.“ Wayne stood in the doorway, beckoning her.

Y/n whispered hurriedly to Steph, “run, Spoiler, run!” She shoved the box into Steph’s hands. Steph made a pathetic excuse before running off.

“I'd like to ask a favour,” Captain Wayne offered. “Could we suspend this bet for ten minutes? Clark is bringing dinner for me and I don't think he'd appreciate this bet we made. This watch was given to me by his father just before he died.”

“Oh!” Y/n squeaked. “A death watch. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool cool cool.”

“Please,” Wayne sighed. ”Never call it that.”

”Noted.” Her cell phone vibrated and Y/n laughed awkwardly. “You know what? You can have ten minutes, no problem. Love you, bye!” She hurried out of the room and into the bullpen where Steph was waiting. “Brown, Flash just texted. He said he wants to meet up. But we gotta be cool.” She glanced over to where Wayne was returning from records. “Captain's watching. Pretend I just said something really funny.” Y/n and Stephanie laughed loudly in a clearly fake tone. The former pushed her friend towards the elevator. “Let’s get outta here. We gotta go.”

Outside, Y/n explained, “okay, Flash wants to meet us in the alley by Sullivan and Danbrook.” The pair started towards their destination.

“What's the playbook, N/n?” Steph rubbed her hands together greedily. “You know I’m never opposed to tasing someone.”

“We go in hard and tough and take what's rightfully ours.” Y/n punched her fist into her palm.

Later, Bart declared, “I want three hundred dollars. I would say five hundred, but I feel bad swindling you nice young ladies.”

“Absolutely, no problem,” Y/n agreed immediately. “Whatever you need.” She dug open her wallet and cringed. “I have fifty dollars… can I Venmo you?”

“Oh, I have one hundred twenty,” Steph offered.

“No, I’m not taking money from you,” Y/n muttered. “But I did steal thirty dollars from Jason the other week… How about… one hundred dollars, borrowing twenty from Steph which I’ll pay back.”

“And I want your sweater.”

“My GCPD windbreaker?” Y/n’s brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Cause it looks cool.”

“You know what, fine.” She slung off her windbreaker and chucked it at Bart. “Can I please have the watch now?”

“You already have it. You’ve had it all along.” Bart shrugged.

“What? What are you talking about?” Y/n patted her pockets. “No I don’t.”

“I put it in the glove compartment of your car.” He nodded towards Y/n’s old, dark blue Mini Cooper. “You think I'm gonna walk around with a stolen police captain's watch?” He scoffed. “I'm an idiot, but I’m not stupid.”

Y/n deadpanned, “well, I would say thank you, but even for a criminal, your customer service has been abysmal.”

“My pleasure.” He winked and started sauntering away. ”Have a good night!”

Y/n sighed. “Let's get back to the precinct and win this bet.”

Steph gasped and cried out, ”Y/n! Your car!”

Y/n’s car was currently being towed by a truck. “No!” Y/n started running after the tow truck, but it quickly turned a corner and was lost in the city of Gotham.

”Y/n, you parked in front of a hydrant.” Steph pointed to the hydrant that had stood in front of her car.

“Stupid fire department! I could’ve sworn…” She trailed off and shook her head. “Nevermind. We gotta think of a way to catch that truck.”

“Oh! How about this?” Steph grabbed an abandoned shopping cart and rattled it.

“Yes. I love the way you think.”

“Hop in.” Steph grinned. Y/n jumped in and Steph took off running, hanging onto the cart as if she was racing down the toilet paper aisle at Target.

“We're doing it, Brown!” Y/n cried, wind whipping her hair. “We're Tokyo drifting! You’re the champagne of friends, Steph!”

Eventually, they were forced to come to a stop in front of a large group of party goers. “I can't see the tow truck anymore!” Y/n complained.

“Maybe we can get a cab,” Steph offered. “There's still time to get that watch.”

“All right.” Y/n groaned as she fell out of the cart. “Excuse me!” She weaved through the crowd, yelling, “excuse me! Coatless cop coming through.”

A person dressed up in a giant teddy bear costume grabbed Steph and pulled her away into the festivities. “Y/n, where are you? Hey! Take it easy! Get off of me!”

Y/n’s head whipped around, looking for her friend. A party bus pulled up and she heard Steph’s voice call, “Look, party bus! Toot! Toot!”

“Good idea, Brown. Move!” She pushed her way onto the bus and showed her badge to the driver. “GCPD. I won't stop the party, but I do need the bus.”

The bus driver, dressed in a ninja costume grumbled, but took off.

The party bus was loud and neon lights flashed throughout it. A stripper pole stood proudly in the middle and a woman in a skimpy ballerina costume held court on it. Y/n’s attention was immediately taken by a shirtless man in tight black jeans and a matching black mask covering his eyes to conceal his identity.

The man bent down, hand offered to Y/n. He smirked and cocked a brow. “Ma’am. May I have this dance?” He spoke like he was at a seventeenth century ball, not a rave inside of an old city bus.

”Oh.” Y/n’s cheeks burned, eyes roving up the faceless man’s body. “What is happening here?”

Another partygoer, dressed as a cat, exclaimed, “it’s Halloween, girlfriend! Lighten up!”

“It's Halloween!” The man who still gripped Y/n’s hand repeated.

Y/n contemplated for a moment before shrugging. “Well, gotta do something for sixteen blocks. Halloween!”

Y/n stumbled off the bus, margarita in hand and a hickey on her neck. “Thanks for the ride!” She called to the bus riders. “Tag me in those pics.”

She walked up to the Impound Lot, only to be stopped by the supervisor who sat in an entrance box, looking bored.

“Hi there!” Y/n greeted the supervisor. ”I'm Y/n L/n, GCPD. You guys towed my car, and I really need it back.”

“Mm-hmm.” The supervisor seemed unimpressed. “Got a badge?”

“Yes, I do. Who do you think I am? A lying wannabe?” She dug into her pocket but didn’t feel the signature press of it against her palm. “What? Oh geez, my badge! Those shitheads on the party bus must have stolen it!”

“Listen, if you have a licence and credit card, you can pay to get it out?” the supervisor offered.

“Oh, okay! Thank you. Finally, something goes right.” Y/n sighed in relief before shrieking, ”it's gone horribly wrong! I don't have my I.D. or my credit cards, but I really need that car. Please, I'm begging you.”

“Rules are rules. I can't do anything for you. Well… unless…” his eyes roved her form. Y/n glared at him and shut his window forcefully.

“Men,” she sighed. Trudging back towards the road, Y/n’s eyes slowly wandered to the fence, a devious smile growing.

From atop the impound lot’s fence, Y/n commented, “look at the view from up here. I didn't know we lived near water.” She flipped her leg over and chuckled. “Look at me. I’m climbing a fucking fence. Ouch.” Her foot caught on the top of the fence. “Ow, ow, ow, ow.” She let out a scream as her foot became unstuck and she fell to the ground, scraping her elbow. “Okay. I’m in. Perfect.” She pulled herself up, groaning. “I can still win this bet. I can still win.” Flashing lights surrounded the impound lot and sirens filled the air. “No! No! Noooo!” She punched the ground in frustration.

“Freeze! Don't move!” The cop screamed.

Y/n grimaced. “There is a tiny chance I may not win this bet.”

Wayne slammed his hand down on the interrogation table. Y/n was handcuffed to the table, the exact same place she was three hundred and sixty five days ago. “Start talking now!”

Y/n exhaled and said quickly, “you seem upset. Well… here's the story. Remember that little Halloween bet that we made? I mean, you probably don't even remember. It was so early this morning.” Captain Wayne didn’t respond, his face stone. Y/n gulped. “Anywhoozle, it turns out the criminal I hired to lift your watch was not trustworthy and I subsequently lost your death watch.” She shifted, trying to sink into her clothes in order to hide the hickey. “But in the end, I like to think this whole thing is gonna bring us closer together. And isn't that what it's really all about?” She tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace.

“What are you saying?” Wayne scoffed. ”My watch is right here.” He held up his wrist and Y/n saw an undetectable emotion in his eyes.

Y/n shook her head. “No, I made a switch. That's a fake,” she mumbled, head hanging low.

Wayne lifted a brow, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “No. This one's a fake.” He held up another watch, identical to the one on his wrist.

Her eyes went wide and Y/n’s mouth dropped open. “What? No. What? No. What? No. You were behind all this? You played me, Captain! B- but how?” She stammered. ”I've been planning this theft for three months! I’m a genius!”

”Yes,” Wayne conceded. He inspected his nails, just as he’d seen Y/n and Cass do whenever they had the upper hand in a conversation. ”But I've been planning it for a year. Last Halloween, after you won the bet, I went back to my office to do everyone's paperwork, but I did no paperwork. I started to plot my revenge. I began by creating a word cloud.”

Captain Wayne sat in his office, surrounded by paperwork. However, instead of beginning, he opened a pad of paper and wrote: Halloween 2.

Y/n scoffed. “But how could you have possibly known I was gonna try and steal your watch?”

“I knew you would try to take something important to me. During the year, I drew your attention to my watch.”

“You're eight minutes late.” Wayne pointed to his watch.

“L/n, you're 14 minutes late.” He held up his wrist.

“You're three minutes early... In Chicago.”

Y/n realised, “you annoyed me into stealing it!”

“Exactly.” Wayne had a triumphant beam plastered to his face. “Now you had a target, but you needed a plan. Fortunately, it walked through the door, handcuffed to Todd.”

“This pickpocket is Bart Allen. He can take anything off of anyone,” Jason announced to Captain Wayne one day.

Y/n’s attention peaked and she shot up. “Anything? Anyone?”

”The look on your face is priceless.” Wayne commented before continuing. “I put Allen into my employ immediately. Fast-forward to this morning. You commenced your plan. Allen stole my watch and then replaced it with the replica. While you celebrated, Allen put my watch back in my pocket while he gave you the replica. The watch never left my person.”

Y/n’s nose flared and she grumped, “I can see that you're enjoying this.”

“Immensely. But not nearly as much as I enjoyed phase two.”

“Phase two?”

Wayne paced around the room, monologuing his master plan. “During your meeting with Allen, Tim placed a fire hydrant in front of your car, which he then towed away. Next, I had to take Stephanie out of the equation. She had a badge and a gun, and she would do anything to help you. She’s a good detective and a loyal friend. But I digress. Enter a parade of drunks that separated the two of you long enough for Richard to kidnap Stephanie.”

“But if Dick kidnapped Steph, how did Steph tell me to get on the party bus?” Y/n asked.

“Around eight months ago at a morning briefing, I told the squad that a group of thieves were targeting party buses, just so I could record Steph saying,”

“Look, party bus! Toot toot!”

Y/n gaped, crying out, “I knew Brown would never knowingly betray me! We’re besties!”

“With your jacket gone, you didn't look like a cop, but you still had your badge and wallet. That is, until you entered the party bus. Damian drove the bus while Cass’ dancing distracted you as a mysterious partier stole your badge.”

Y/n flushed. “It was Jason in the mask! You sly son of a bitch!” She leaned back and offered, “well done. But I have to ask, did those guys at the impound really smash my car?” She squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the pile of insurance and debt that would fall on her.

Wayne shook his head. “No, in fact, I had them wash it.”

Y/n chuckled. “Good one, Captain. You can't ‘wash a car.’ So how'd you convince the whole squad to betray me? What'd you offer them?” She squinted at her Capitan, certain that he had lost a hundred dollars or something of similar effect.

“I asked them if they wanted to embarrass you and they instantly said yes.”

“Fair.” Y/n sighed. “I’m a little disappointed, but it’s completely understandable. I'm not gonna lie, it turns me on a little bit.”

Wayne stared at her, disbelief on his face. “Hmm. So in addition to the five weeks of free overtime, I believe I'm owed one more thing.” He finally let his full grin through.

“Yes. Here we go.” Y/n took a deep breath in, but Wayne stopped her.

“One moment.” He opened the door and the detectives (plus Damian) of the sixty-sixth precinct streamed in, clapping and cheering.

Y/n took a deep breath and conceded, “Very well. Captain Bruce Wayne... You are an amazing police captain-slash-genius.” The team applauded and Y/n said loudly over the noise, “But be warned, I started planning next year's heist just this minute!”

“Good,” Wayne said. “Then you're only three months behind.”

“You sick son of a bitch,” Y/n growled.

The masked man ran his fingertips over Y/n’s waist, dancing to the music. He gripped her wrist and spun her around, pressing her against the wall of the bus.

“Oop! Hello…” Y/n raised a brow, searching the man’s face. He looked oddly familiar…

“Hello,” the man said in a low, gruff voice, leaning even closer to her. Y/n’s stomach turned over at his proximity. “You wanna have some fun?”

“I love fun.” Y/n said, “I have ten more blocks to have fun.”

“Good.” The man’s lips brushed Y/n’s jaw and she shivered.

“Oh, I like your version of fun.”

His lips trailed down to her collarbone, leaving feather-light kisses in their wake. He found the spot that made her breath catch in her throat and smiled wickedly. “Perfect,” he muttered. As he began nibbling away, swiping his tongue over the sensitive spot, the masked man slipped something out of Y/n’s pocket and into his own. Her badge and wallet.

Soon, Y/n pushed him away, displeased that it was her stop. After she got off, Jason whipped off the mask and Cass did the same. Damian called from the driver’s seat, “Todd. You may want to sit down. You seem a little… excited.”

Jason glanced down and blushed profusely, collapsing immediately.

#title of your sex tape #jason todd x reader #jason todd #dc x reader #dcu #detectives au #b99 #b99/dcu #slow burn

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