#world wide model | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Post activity is at the highest at 4:00 pm EDT; notes peak at 10:00 pm EDT.

hamletthedane · 3 months

Text

I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.

What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.

What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.

What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.

The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.

And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.

But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.

I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.

#shut up e #long post #Saturday thoughts #this has been in my drafts for a week haha #also this is the heart of why AI art feels so wrong #forget the discussion of copyright and theft etc - even if models were only trained on public domain they would still feel very wrong #because they’re not art. art is the labor of creation #even commercial art and art commissioned by the popes and kings of history: there is humanity in the labor of it #unrelated: I did not know living in the Bronx was now something to brag about. How the fuck do y’all New Yorkers afford this city???

26K notes · View notes

neil-gaiman · 1 year

Text

I found myself having, not exactly an argument recently, but a highly opinionated conversation with someone who did not believe my assertion that once upon a time there were official Hello Kitty vibrators. With the aid of the Wayback Machine, I found this article, and thought the world at large might enjoy it too...

Here's the text of the article:

The history of the Hello Kitty vibrator

By Peter Payne October 4, 2004

Sanrio is one of the top character licensors in the world, having more or less created the business model of doing business by creating something that doesn't really exist and licensing its use to other companies. Sanrio produces nothing -- all their characters, like the Little Twin Star, Minna no Ta-bo, Bad Batz-Maru, exist as legal entities and nothing more. Their most successful character, Hello Kitty, or Kitty-chan as she's known in Japan, is now now thirty years old.

One of the many companies that license Sanrio's characters for their products was a Japanese company called Genyo Co. Ltd. Genyo made a wide variety of products, from bento boxes to children's toys to chopsticks, many with the Hello Kitty character on them. They scored big in the late 1990's with an off-the-wall hit, a series of Hello Kitty toys which featured a different Kitty figure from each of Japan's 47 prefectures, each representing something the prefecture was famous for. (The figure from Gunma Prefecture, where we live, represented a wooden kokeshi doll.)

In 1997, Genyo designed a product that would live in infamy: the Hello Kitty vibrating shoulder massager, which really is a shoulder massager (trust us -- it says so on the package). Sanrio approved this design without batting an eye, and the product enjoyed modest sales in toy shops and in family restaurants like Denny's and Coco's. It wasn't until 1999 or so that people began to catch on to the fact that the Hello Kitty massager had other potential uses, and with amazing speed, they started popping up in adult videos in Japan. The next thing anyone knew, they had changed into a cult adult item, sold in vending machines in love hotels -- after all, what self-respecting man wouldn't buy his girl a Hello Kitty vibrator when she asked him for one?

The emergence of the Hello Kitty vibrator as a cult adult item caused friction between Sanrio and Genyo, and Sanrio ordered the company to stop making the units. Genyo refused, since it had paid a lot of money to license Kitty for their products. There seemed nothing Sanrio could do, since they had approved the item for sale (see the official Sanrio sticker on the boxes). The answer came when the Japanese tax authorities raided Genyo on suspicion of tax evasion. It seems that some creative accounting was going on between the president of the company, a Mr. Nakamura, his vice president, and the owner of the factory in China where the units were made. All three were arrested, and Sanrio had the excuse needed to yank Genyo's license. They seized the molds used to make the vibrators and destroyed them.

And so, the sad, weird chapter of the Hello Kitty vibrator is at an end. The last of the Kitty vibes are gone, so now what will the world do for wacky comic -- and sexual -- relief?

#Hello Kitty #The Hello Kitty Shoulder Massager

44K notes · View notes

reasonsforhope · 7 months

Text

Holy crap, I didn't think Biden would be able to get the Climate Corps established without Congress. This is SUCH fantastic news.

"After being thwarted by Congress, President Joe Biden will use his executive authority to create a New Deal-style American Climate Corps that will serve as a major green jobs training program.

In an announcement Wednesday, the White House said the program will employ more than 20,000 young adults who will build trails, plant trees, help install solar panels and do other work to boost conservation and help prevent catastrophic wildfires.

The climate corps had been proposed in early versions of the sweeping climate law approved last year but was jettisoned amid strong opposition from Republicans and concerns about cost.

Democrats and environmental advocacy groups never gave up on the plan and pushed Biden in recent weeks to issue an executive order authorizing what the White House now calls the American Climate Corps.

“After years of demonstrating and fighting for a Climate Corps, we turned a generational rallying cry into a real jobs program that will put a new generation to work stopping the climate crisis,” said Varshini Prakash, executive director of the Sunrise Movement, an environmental group that has led the push for a climate corps.

With the new corps “and the historic climate investments won by our broader movement, the path towards a Green New Deal is beginning to become visible,” Prakash said...

...Environmental activists hailed the new jobs program, which is modeled after the Civilian Conservation Corps, created in the 1930s by President Franklin D. Roosevelt, a Democrat, as part of the New Deal...

Lawmakers Weigh In

More than 50 Democratic lawmakers, including Massachusetts Sen. Ed Markey and New York Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, had also encouraged Biden to create a climate corps, saying in a letter on Monday that “the climate crisis demands a whole-of-government response at an unprecedented scale.”

The lawmakers cited deadly heat waves in the Southwest and across the nation, as well as dangerous floods in New England and devastating wildfires on the Hawaiian island of Maui, among recent examples of climate-related disasters.

Democrats called creation of the climate corps “historic” and the first step toward fulfilling the vision of the Green New Deal.

“Today President Biden listened to the (environmental) movement, and he delivered with an American Climate Corps,” a beaming Markey said at a celebratory news conference outside the Capitol.

“We are starting to turn the green dream into a green reality,” added Ocasio-Cortez, who co-sponsored the Green New Deal legislation with Markey four years ago.

“You all are changing the world,” she told young activists.

Program Details and Grant Deadlines

The initiative will provide job training and service opportunities to work on a wide range of projects, including restoring coastal wetlands to protect communities from storm surges and flooding; clean energy projects such as wind and solar power; managing forests to prevent catastrophic wildfires; and energy efficient solutions to cut energy bills for consumers, the White House said.

Creation of the climate corps comes as the Environmental Protection Agency launches a $4.6 billion grant competition for states, municipalities and tribes to cut climate pollution and advance environmental justice. The Climate Pollution Reduction Grants are funded by the 2022 climate law and are intended to drive community-driven solutions to slow climate change.

EPA Administrator Michael Regan said the grants will help “communities so they can chart their own paths toward the clean energy future.”

The deadline for states and municipalities to apply is April 1, with grants expected in late 2024. Tribes and territories must apply by May 1, with grants expected by early 2025."

-via Boston.com, September 21, 2023

6K notes · View notes

fruityyamenrunner · 2 months

Text

A widespread misconception in much of psychology is that (a) as vertebrate animals evolved, “newer” brain structures were added over existing “older” brain structures, and (b) these newer, more complex structures endowed animals with newer and more complex psychological functions, behavioral flexibility, and language. This belief, although widely shared in introductory psychology textbooks, has long been discredited among neurobiologists and stands in contrast to the clear and unanimous agreement on these issues among those studying nervous-system evolution. We bring psychologists up to date on this issue by describing the more accurate model of neural evolution, and we provide examples of how this inaccurate view may have impeded progress in psychology. We urge psychologists to abandon this mistaken view of human brains.

3K notes · View notes

nctsworld · 8 months

Text

fever pitch

✩‌ mark x reader | pro baseball player!mark | fluff | smut | 8.4k

SUMMARY | your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.

WARNINGS | sexual content (near the end), arm riding (iykyk), breast/nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, piv sex, some drinking // this is 80% fluff-20% smut (with lots of corny writing); there's actually not too much baseball mentioned, but i did a little research on it; however, inaccuracies may be inevitable!

RATING | mature

AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sorry this is so late </3 i hope y'all enjoy! please also check out (and maybe send in some prompts to) @nctpromptmeme!

TAGLIST | @curieouscapt @dearlyminhyung @infnteen

Under the warm, summer sun, you beam as you walk towards your close friend, Chenle, and his dog, Daegal.

Shining back, he nods in hello to you with sunglasses pressed against his face. The teacup Bichon by his side wags its tail and pants happily at the sight of you, but is easily distracted the next second due to the park’s stimulating surroundings.

Dogs running amok, families having picnics, kids chasing each other in circles, friends playing baseball—

Specifically, a group of absolutely stunning men playing, as if a model catalogue exploded onto the field across from you.

But one in particular catches your eye.

Kind eyes shine behind wire-framed glasses, paired with a wide smile. His soft hair bounces with his light jog across the area.

In his fitted white tee, he ends up in one spot and continuously throws the ball into his mitt. The game seems to be on hold as he speaks to a teammate. Absentmindedly, he rolls his arm sleeves up, revealing lean, yet defined muscles.

You silently gasp, struck by the beautiful sight, then gulp at the flexing of his biceps when he continues tossing the ball. His teammate must’ve told him a joke since the attractive figure throws his head back in joy.

And this is the exact moment you go into cardiac arrest because his laugh is the last straw of what you can handle from this man.

Suddenly, the sound of your name shakes you out of your daze and reminds you to breathe.

“Okay, which one of these guys is the one who made you do a full stop in the middle of the grass?” Chenle asks, coming up beside you.

Daegal welcomes you with loving rubs against your leg. You squat to pet her, but your eyes are still honed in on the handsome stranger. The teams seems to be switching now when someone hands the bespectacled man a bat.

Your friend tracks your line of sight and nods, impressed. “Okay, he’s cute. Your distractedness will be excused this time.”

Scoffing, you shove his leg lightly and he giggles in return. After a few more moments of gawking, Chenle wonders, “Why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere?”

Standing up, you reply, “Probably comes here often with his friends when you walk Daegal?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I know him from somewhere else...”

Deciding you should probably drag your attention away and not be a blatant creep, you begin to walk away backwards, heading towards the ice cream cart before the line-up becomes as long as the field.

“Want your usual?”

“Yes, please!”

However, Chenle’s brightness fades instantly, jaw falling and eyes widening. You’re about to turn around to see what caused his change of expression when you hear a piercing—

“WATCH OUT!”

With a throbbing in your head, you wake up, squinting at the blinding rays. Coming into view, the cute guy from before replaces the sun’s spot, staring down at you with concern written all over his face.

“Oh, my God,” he pants. His hands shake in front of him. “I am so, so, so, so sorry.”

You roll your eyes a bit, trying to center your vision. Groaning, you ask, “What happened?”

“I, uh...” The individual’s mouth, slightly open with gritted teeth, pulls to one side as he runs a hand through his hair, “may have batted the ball and it coincidentally went straight for your head.”

Carefully, he helps lift your upper body off the ground. He asks if you’re okay, and you nod. But a grimace comes after, causing the stranger’s frown to deepen.

“Maybe we should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”

All of a sudden, he inches closer and gingerly runs his thumb over the source of the throbbing. It’s likely all in your mind, but you swear the pain lessens from his touch. You tilt your head further, angling into his palm and embracing the comforting gesture.

“I’ll obviously cover all the bills—”

You cut him off with a slow lift of your hand. “No. I’m okay, I’m okay.”

You know you’ll definitely be more than okay if you can steal some more time with his magical touch.

Continuing, you say, “And that’s too much. If anything, you can buy some ice cream for me and my friend.”

Glancing around for Chenle, you find him, crouching like the stranger, but a few feet away. With a raised corner of his mouth, you deduce he’s deliberately giving space for you to interact with Mr. Handsome Baseball Hitter.

Said handsome baseball hitter chuckles. Hearing it tugs at your chest, even harder now that you can experience it up close.

“I’ll buy you a thousand ice creams to make it up to you.” He retreats his hand and you don't hold back pouting from the fleeting contact you already miss. “But seriously, if there’s any long-term side effects, please reach out to me and I’ll pay for any expenses that come your way.”

“How would I know how to reach out to you?”

He rambles the following matter-of-factly, “Well, you can find my manager’s information online, there’s the team’s Twitter account”—he looks up cutely in thought—“and I guess I’ve been kinda active on Instagram—”

You tilt your head in confusion. What is this guy going on about?

“Okay,” you interrupt, “but who are you?”

His face flips through a few emotions in the span of seconds, but they’re unreadable. Finally landing on a grin, he says, “I think what’s more important is: do you know who you are?”

“Yeah, I’m—” And you properly introduce yourself.

“Good,” he says, “so we’re not dealing with amnesia.”

Your cheeks rise at his humour. Saying your name warmly, he adds, “Nice to meet you, I’m Mark.”

He lends out a hand for you to shake and you do so. With help from his knees, he rises upward, aiding you to stand on your feet in the process.

“Mark,” you repeat his name aloud, locking eyes with him, “the baseball batter with the strength of a thousand suns.”

At the odd line, you catch yourself, thinking how the injury must’ve loosened your filter. He laughs at the lengthy label. “You should see me pitch.”

You shake your head. “Nu-uh, nope,” you playfully say. “I’m going to be safe and stay far, far away from that sexy arm.”

Both you and Mark’s eyebrows rise at the remark.

Yep, definitely a loose filter. Maybe you really do have a concussion.

While Mark breaks out into a pleased smile, you snap your eyes shut, wanting to run away. Or disappear, if at all possible. “Strong, strong. I meant strong...”

Avoiding eye contact, you hurry and make way to a now standing Chenle. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind, you grumble, “Chenle, let’s get going.”

Your friend smirks and whispers by your side, “You sure you don’t want to dig your grave even further?” You attempt to elbow him, but he’s too quick and avoids it.

“It was nice meeting you, Mark,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk away. “Thanks for looking out for... my head?”

Cringe falls over, making you pick up your pace. Time to officially stop talking.

Chenle turns away, his body shaking as he releases a snicker into his fist.

“Again, I’m really, really sorry!” Mark apologizes in a shout. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and also recognize his voice as the one who warned you to watch out before the incident occurred. “If you need to find me, I’ll be here over the next couple of weekends!”

When you’re far away enough from the scene of the crime, you smack Chenle in the arm. In response, Daegal chirps a bark at you. “You just had to watch me make a complete fool out of myself back there.”

He lovingly places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “I mean, Daegal’s great and all, but if anyone has any entertainment value out of the three of us here, it’s going to be you.”

You groan at his harsh, yet true, words.

“Your head good though?”

You note how the throbbing is barely there anymore. Touching the spot, you wince. At most, there’s likely just a bruise. “Yeah, it’s good.”

In a hopeful tone, Chenle sing-songs, “Think you wanna come to the park again with me next weekend?”

Reflecting on what Mark said, you ponder if he really meant it about coming to find him if anything was wrong. Even though everything would likely be fine, you’d love to see him again.

But how could you face him after the disaster of your mouth running free? You shake your head in defeat.

On Monday night, the next evening, your phone goes off right as you enter your apartment building. You drag your phone out, eyebrows furrowing at the notification that Chenle’s calling you. When was the last time he’s called you?

Actually, you’re fairly sure he’s never called you. Ever. You pick it up without hesitation.

“Hey, everything okay?”

“Find a TV playing the baseball game,” Chenle pants. “Right now.”

Out of all the things he could call you for, this is what he’s asking you to do? He’s not even into baseball; basketball is the sport he adores to death. “What?”

“Do it,” he orders. “Now!”

“Okay, okay.”

Thankful you haven’t gone up to your apartment yet, you stride over to the little in-house gym in your building near the front entrance. You haven’t used it much since you moved in, but you recall that the TVs usually play either sports or news.

And you remember right, except at the moment, the baseball game is the only event plastered on the screens. Most people in the room are fixated on the game while they’re doing their set or on their respective cardio machine.

“Okay...” you trail in uncertainty. A pitcher from your city’s team throws the ball and the batter misses. The camera cuts to the batter from the opposing team, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why must I need to watch the baseball game so ba—”

The camera’s now on Mark’s face.

The same Mark from the neighbourhood park yesterday, sans the glasses, and in proper baseball gear.

He’s on live, national television, playing baseball in front of the crowd of tens of thousands of people.

From a side angle, all eyes are on him as he tips his cap forward. His eyes mold into slits of concentration, his sharp jaw tightening after a lick of his lips. Sure, he’s different from yesterday’s care-free self, but you’d be lying if you said this serious side of him didn’t turn you on either.

Again, the camera cuts away, to the wide shot from behind him. Besides his great body (especially his gorgeous backside in those snug pants), you revel in the back of his white and dark green trimmed jersey, indicating his last name and his assigned number: Lee. 02.

He winds up for the pitch, raising his leg, and the ball is gone within a blink of an eye, landing directly into the catcher’s glove. The number 98 comes up near a rectangle on-screen, signifying the speed of his throw.

Mark wasn’t lying about his skills; he’s the pitcher with the strength of a thousand suns.

All the screens are filled with Player #02’s glimmer of a smirk, before he quickly stashes it away behind his cap. The camera lingers on him while the commentators in the background talk.

“A great put-out pitch for Lee,” one says. “His fastballs this season have been absolutely remarkable. Another great one from him.”

Cameras switch to another shot of Mark catching the ball, resetting once more for the next batter.

Another commentator supplements, “Aside from the slight hiccup earlier this season, he’s definitely on-track in making his mark on his debut in the league. A rookie ace indeed. It’s no wonder they’ve been calling him ‘The Tiger!’”

Understanding dawns upon you as to why he stated how easy it would be to contact him (and to be able to pay for any potential hospital bills). The city’s new star pitcher—how could you not know him?

“I knew he looked familiar!” Chenle pipes up from the other end, just as Mark’s nice figure takes up the screen once more. Awe and shock consume your voice, and you’re unable to create a coherent reply.

But you don’t need to, not when you have Chenle to talk your ear off about the game, but mostly Mark, for the rest of the night.

The week passes by, with you casually going through Mark’s Instagram (which, as he mentioned, he only occasionally posts on) and watching a few more of Mark’s games with Chenle in tow.

You fawn together over his plays (and his ass) and, despite not knowing much about the game, he must be having a great week from the commentators’ constant praises and the team’s overall wins.

Once Sunday finally arrives though, a wave of nervous anticipation rolls over you.

Because for you, it’s game time.

Sure, you may not have initially wanted to, but now that you know who Mark is, what is there to lose if you step up to the plate and see him again?

The scene of the park is quite similar to last week’s, except for the large presence of people staring at the men, many you recognize from the city’s team from all the games you’ve watched this week, playing baseball on the field. You wonder if you were too caught up with Mark last week because you didn’t notice how everyone else was this enraptured too.

As you stroll closer to the grassy area with Chenle and Daegal hovering behind, the players coincidentally take a breather. Some parents quickly take advantage of the break to bring their children up to receive autographs.

This is perfect timing for you too.

However, you stop in place, debating if this was a good idea to return. You’re surely going to make a fool out of yourself again (this time with no injury to blame) and Chenle, despite his promise of not interfering, will totally budge in and—

And it’s too late to backpedal, because Mark, although distracted by the little cluster of people surrounding him, lifts his head momentarily and his gaze lands directly on you.

Air seizes in your lungs when he flashes you a grin that could compete with the sun. He gives a small nod and wave. Like a star struck fangirl, you glance around to ensure he’s not gifting that nod and wave to anyone else.

But no, you’re not mistaken—his eyes are only on you.

Saying his thanks to his assumed fans, he jogs his way over to you, attired today in a fitted grey-mixed tee, ripped denim jeans, and thicker framed glasses compared to last time.

“Hey,” Mark says, still grinning beautifully. “How’s your head feeling?”

His smile is incredibly infectious. It’s a challenge not to do the same when you’re in the presence of this man. “Better. Had some bruising, but it’s all gone now.”

He nods in response, mumbling a “Good, good” under his breath. With his face turned away, he swipes some hair behind his ear and seems to be preparing himself to say something. But, you will yourself to address the elephant in the room first.

“So, why didn’t you tell me that you were in the major leagues?”

At the unexpected question, Mark darts his head up and draws it back in surprise, his lips pouting adorably. Your heart bursts.

Contrasting his cuteness, you notice the hint of stubble around his mouth. First the pout, now this. You’re captivated by it more than you should be.

He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “Well, you didn’t ask.”

“I did,” you laugh. “I asked who you were!”

After looking up in thought for a moment, he concedes. “Okay, maybe you did.”

You two laugh in unison, and even when the moment is over, both of you stare into each other's eyes. Time’s filled with comfortable silence and equally comfortable smiles.

Mark breaks the silence, asking, “Are you still wanting to stay safe and far away from my sexy arm?”

“Oh, my God...” you groan, hating to hear the same words that left your mouth from last week.

“No,” he says through another burst of laughter, “it’s a genuine question.”

“I meant to say strong!” you argue petulantly. “I was just a little out of it from the hit, no thanks to you.”

“I know, I know,” he giggles. “I’m genuinely wondering though, cause...” Mark pauses and begins to fidget, this time rubbing the nape of his neck.

You tilt your head, intrigued. “Cause what?”

“Cause, I was, uh, wondering,” he says, eyes averting yours. “Since I owe you for your head injury—”

“You don’t owe me anything—”

“And I know it’s a long shot cause you’re absolutely gorgeous and you’re probably taken—”

This time, you draw your head back in surprise over the compliment and the grand assumption that you’re off the market.

“—but did you wanna go out with me sometime?” His hand moves through his hair before he shyly looks at you again. “Maybe?”

Before you can even process what's happening you hear a "Yes!" behind you, causing you to jolt upright. “Yes, she will absolutely go on a date with you!”

“Chenle!” you gasp, appalled but not surprised, in the direction of your close friend as he nears your side. You face Mark again and gesture in the direction of the incoming intruder. “Don’t mind him.”

As per his charming self, your friend holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Chenle. Your newest number one fan. Great plays this week, by the way.”

“Mark.” He takes the hand to shake, giving him a small smile. “And thanks.”

Mark’s eyes wander down and notices the dog wagging its tail excitedly. His face lights up. “Aw, who’s this cute little guy?”

“Daegal,” Chenle answers. “She’s my little handful, besides this one.” he says, jerking his head in your direction. Mark's too focused on Daegal to see you slapping her owner in the arm.

Squatting down, he pets the lively dog. You follow suit and crouch down too, watching Daegal gift Mark tons of licks and enthusiastically rubs herself against his hands and arms. She’s never this delighted with strangers usually.

“What do you think, Daegal?” Mark asks, holding eye contact with her as if she could reply, then he glances over at you. “Do you think your friend should go out with me?”

Immediately, she barks happily, causing all three of you to laugh.

“Good girl,” Chenle whispers from above.

Although you pucker your lips playfully at Daegal’s betrayal, you reach out to pet her fondly along with Mark.

“But how will you guarantee my safety from your strong arm?” Your stare lingers on them. Not that he has to know, but you had to make a conscious effort to not say sexy once more.

“I promise I won’t be tossing any more of my balls in your direction,” Mark casually says.

After a pause, your eyebrows raise and his eyes widen.

“Wait, I mean—shit...” he hisses, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your lips twitch, suppressing a laugh and finding him adorable.

“I know what you mean,” you quickly say, relieving him of his embarrassment.

He shyly glances up at you and you share a comforting look. Suddenly, someone from the field hollers his name. With a small frown, he begins to walk in reverse away from you.

“I probably should get back, but now that you know how to get in touch, message me on Instagram and we can figure out a time that works for our date?”

“Yes, definitely!”

Incredulously, you look up at Chenle for answering on your behalf.

“For sure, Mark,” you say. “Have a great game.” With the way he plays, you know he will.

Chenle and you wave your good-byes to him and watch him retreat to his friends.

“You do know that I'm the one he asked out, right?” you ask as the three of you begin to walk towards to the park's popular ice cream cart, except you're more vigilant this time.

Your friend grabs out cash, ready to pay for your order. Or at least you hope so, for all the trouble he caused.

“Yes, and that's why I will live vicariously through you!”

After messaging him over the last week (with Chenle hovering over your shoulder and backseat driving many of the messages), Thursday really couldn't come fast enough for your date with Mark.

As you step out of your apartment complex, your jaw drops and an impressed smile fills your face.

In a green bomber, black tee, and skinny jeans, Mark coolly pulls up on a red Ducati motorbike. You recall seeing a post or two on his Instagram with it, but it takes you by surprise to see it in-person.

He takes off his helmet and runs fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle out the messiness. You're a little envious of how good he looks, even with messy hair.

Your date takes in your outfit—an off-the-shoulder floral dress that teeters the lines of being cute and sexy simultaneously—and beams.

“Wow,” he says, mouth agape. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you say, then make an over-the-top attempt to check him out. “You don't look so bad yourself.”

After a moment of shared smiles, he tilts his head towards his mode of transportation. “Hope this isn't too daunting.”

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

As Mark helps you with your helmet, now that you're up-close, you notice he's clean-shaven, unlike the other times you've seen him, and you presume he opted for contacts for tonight.

You also can't help but relish in the proximity of his hands near your face, flashing previously to the first time you met only a couple of weeks ago.

Once he's done, you ready yourself for the ride by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, holding onto him snugly.

He twists around with his visor open.

“Ready?”

You respond with a squeeze around his waist and a nod, so he closes his visor and you're off through the nightscape of the city.

Everything passes by in a blur, but when there are the occasional moments when he slows down or stops at the red lights, you drink in how beautiful your city is.

On the other hand, you're dying to know what Mark planned for tonight. He gave you a vague idea—dinner, a small post-dinner activity (no balls involved, Mark promised), and dessert—but that's all.

In a nicer part of the city, he stops and parks in front of a bumbling Italian restaurant.

Once inside, Mark gives his name to the greeter, stating how he has a reservation, and a sweet host immediately leads you to your table. As you walk through the restaurant, you admire its warm atmosphere with dim lights and candles spread everywhere, along with the many other couples eating their dinner.

The host stops in front of a secluded semi-circular plush booth. You shimmy in, and Mark follows. Both of you sit comfortably close near the middle of the booth.

Despite how much you have been talking through DMs over the last week, as first dates often go, conversation is awkward at first.

However, as dinner progresses and the extravagant wine (Mark insisted, “Only the best for my date, please.”) makes its way through your systems, it gets easier.

You learn more about his family, his team, and his love for reading. For him, he learns about your friends, your job vs. dreams constant conflict, and your love for music.

The easiness also goes beyond words. Underneath the table, your legs brush up against one another's. You throw your head back in laughter, and you bravely touch his forearm in response. Mark even leans in close to your body, sometimes the edge of your shoulders gently pressing into the other.

By the end of dinner, being the gentleman he is, Mark doesn't even let you glance at the check and pays it all without hesitation. Then, you're outside and on his motorbike again, off to the mysterious post-dinner activity.

When he reaches a particular end of town where there isn't much around except one place, you have an inkling where you're about to go.

Once you're there and parked, your hunch is answered correctly, but you realize something.

“Isn't the aquarium closed at this hour?”

He shrugs nonchalantly and begins to usher you forward with a hand lingering at your lower back. Whispering into your ear, he says, “I may have booked it privately for tonight.”

As you walk through, Mark and you stick to each other's side, shoulder to shoulder, and switch between revealing more about yourselves while reading and conversing about the informational signs on the aquatic creatures.

Both of you stop in front of the main showcase of the aquarium: the large tank that houses two beluga whales.

Mark leans in a bit closer to the tank, catches sight of one of them in a corner, and points it out to you. As he straightens, you feel the back of your hand brush up against his.

“You’re quite the romantic,” you state while glancing at the tank, almost as low as a whisper. Even with nobody around, there's something so serene about the aquarium that makes you want to be respectfully quiet. "Does everyone get this first-date, first-class experience from you?”

“Only the girls who get hit on the head by me,” he teases in a whisper, making you softly chuckle.

After a moment passes as you watch the tank, hoping and waiting for the beluga whales to move to where you're standing, Mark asks, “Would it be surprising to say I don’t go on dates as often as you think?”

Your eyes dart toward him, but you quickly keep your gaze fixated back on the tank. You nod. “A little.”

He hums, followed by a lengthy sigh. You can sense a shift in him. You hear how it's laced with sadness, maybe even a little regret.

“I’ve been working so hard to get to this point and of course being drafted’s been so worth it, but it also meant that I had to sacrifice some things along the way. But now that I’m finally here”—you feel his gaze now directed on you—“I definitely can rearrange my time for other things.”

Your breathing slows as you turn to face him.

Courageously, Mark intertwines his hand with yours and his free one raises, caressing the bare skin of your upper arm. The contact makes you gasp and hold your breath.

He drags himself forward, as do you, and his hand is about to cup your face...

Until the two belugas are now your front-row audience, glancing at you as if they were smiling.

You both chuckle softly and give them a wave, not wanting to lose this rare chance of seeing them this close.

And although the special moment has passed, you two finish off the marine life tour with your hand in his.

Once outside, Mark leads you somewhere nearby. After about ten minutes of walking, you're standing on a large cliff with a scenic view of the city. You've never seen the city from this height before, and all its twinkling lights and the starry sky beckon you.

An ice cream truck is also coincidentally there, and you assume Mark booked it for your date tonight.

You two grab your waffle cone orders and sit down on a wooden bench that overlooks the view.

“So,” you say, licking the cone on its side to avoid the ice cream from dripping down your hand, “does this go towards the debt of you hitting my head?”

“Of course,” he nods with his signature smile, doing the same as you and trying to avoid his sweet treat from melting. “It'll be one ice cream out of the many future thousands.”

The implication that there’ll be more than just this date hangs in the night air, almost as if it's a promise, and you really hope it'll be true.

At the very least, it feels true as you peer over your city, leaning your head onto Mark's shoulder while he casually drapes an arm around you.

Getting off the motorcycle, Mark walks you to the front door of your place and you don't even think twice about asking if he wants to come in. He says yes a little too enthusiastically, making you giggle, but it confirms that neither of you want the night to come to an end just yet.

Mark hangs his jacket as you grab beers from the fridge. Both of you make talk for some time on your couch, but the energy in the room is buzzing, especially since the almost-kiss.

The second you gravitate towards Mark, he rushes to wrap an arm around your waist and his free hand cups your face, dragging you in for the first kiss that's been itching to happen.

His lips are dangerously soft, addictive really. You swear he tastes like cherry (could be from the food earlier or maybe a lip balm flavour, you wonder).

It's a slow, yet deep, start. In the beginning, the kissing is with intent, wanting to know what each other tastes like. Naturally, the curiosity evolves into exploration, with Mark cautiously dipping his tongue into your mouth. You react with zeal, swiping your tongue against his and even experiment sucking on it. He shudders at the sensation.

Mark holds you close throughout, but your bodies move into a new position, letting you sink comfortably into your couch beneath him.

Here, passion rises. He grips your waist, whilst his body presses into yours, and he begins to trail down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Although it's already off your shoulders, he drags a sleeve of your dress further down, hungry to kiss as much of your bare skin as he possibly can.

Your fingers tangle in his hair and you arch into him, embracing his clear desire against you. You're falling and falling and falling, becoming more drunk with every touch and kiss from Mark. Ever since the first day you met, you couldn't help but yearn for his touch. Now, having a taste of him like this, you're desperate to experience more.

Although you're underneath him, you decide to take hold of the kissing. When he takes a breather for an instant, you steal the chance and fervently kiss along his jaw and rugged neck. Mark moans, gripping your waist harder, and grinds into you, his hardness dying to be free.

Shockingly, he suddenly tears away, sitting up and panting. Confused, you mirror him.

“Should we stop?” he asks. “Like, I know I might be being presumptuous, but I don’t wanna ruin our potential next date if we rush too soon?”

It melts your heart that he retracted because he's concerned over your potential future. You delicately rearrange some of his loose hair stuck to his forehead. “If you want to stop, we can.”

He pouts, reminding you of him previously at the park, followed by a cute whimper.

“But I don’t want to stop...” he laugh-smiles, leaning into you, about to drive his mouth into yours again.

“Neither do I.”

And with that, Mark makes the split-second decision to continue this good thing and not look back. Once again, he's leaving love upon your shoulders, at a measured pace currently, and he carefully lowers your dress. Drooping off your shoulders, you let it drop and bunch around your stomach.

Surprise is written on his face, as you didn't wear a bra underneath your dress, but the surprise quickly dissipates into enthrallment over the beautiful sight.

He lowers himself, mouth traversing across your chest while his free hand gently massages one of your breasts. You succumb to the rising pleasure, curving into him again.

When he arrives at one tip of yours, he looks up and asks, his voice low and gravelly, “Can I...?”

You whimper-nod, already on the verge of begging him to take the next step.

It kills you that he teases first, merely pecking the surrounding area and your tip; his mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your patience grows thin.

“Mark, please, just—”

Air is depleted as his tongue swipes against your nipple in a broad stroke. He then wraps his mouth around it, sucking firmly. The other hand that was kneading your other breast turns to focus on your nipple, pinching it between his index finger and thumb.

The more he sucks, the more you hear the wet puckering of his lips, the more it makes you clench tighter. Bliss begins to boil in your abdomen when he flicks his tongue and mimics the same on your other tit with the pad of his thumb.

Your breathing grows heavier, and you sense you're close, but Mark abruptly stops. You're about to speak up, believing he'd be the type to finish you off if you ask, until you realize he's kneeling on the floor in front of you and stripping off his t-shirt.

With your help, Mark eases your dress to the floor and places it safely on the coffee table. Focusing on you, his gaze is dripping of lust—so carnal, so different than his regular self.

As Mark advances to your heat, your palms graze over his defined shoulders and back. He parts your legs further with his hands wrapped around your inner thigh.

“Wearing panties?” he inquires, his finger pulling the fabric a bit to the side.

“Huh?”

“No bra, but panties?” he smirks, making you realize the joke.

You roll your eyes and relax momentarily, leaning your head back. “Are you into that? No panties underneath?”

“Could be hot,” he shrugs, tugging your underwear to your calves and tossing them off to the side.

“Maybe one date I can do th-ah—”

Without warning, he dives in, one his hands now grasping you by your lower back, and you lurch forward to get a good view of his head between your legs. You've got a grip on his shoulder, the other tugging at his hair.

His tongue laps at your folds with agility, figures out what you like or don't like. There isn't much you don't like, Mark deduces. Languid licks. Penetrating patterns. Fast flicks.

You respond eagerly to them all with harsh tugs to his hair, notably when he spreads your folds to devour you entirely. The hair pulling hurts a bit, but he doesn't mention anything; he likes it a little rough.

Despite the positive reactions, he can tell you've been at a simmer with his moves, not quite reaching close to a high. He withdraws his mouth, and, through your hazy vision, you catch sight of his honeyed lips.

But your eyes blow wide open and an acute moan dispels as your lover of the night fills you with his fingers, alongside his licking of your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Following a few more minutes of scissoring and a few sucks to your bundle of nerves, he asks, breathing into your inner thigh, “Does this feel good, gorgeous?”

Your lip is drawn between your teeth, digging so hard from the pleasure you wonder if it'll bleed soon. “Mm-hmm.”

“Good,” he says, kissing your thigh tenderly, “'cause I'm gonna need you to remember how good tonight is so you'll keep coming back for more.”

Not gonna be a problem, you think, but all you could muster is senseless panting.

“You close?”

You can barely release a whimper out to respond, and Mark orders you to tell him when you're near.

It doesn't take long to get there. The warmth in your abdomen encapsulates your body and your hips rut upward frantically, desiring your climax to take authority.

“Mark, Mark, Mark. Fuck, I'm close, I'm—”

Immediately, he stands up, fingers still inside you and somehow impaling you further and faster while his thumb lazily strokes at your clit when possible, and his ardent kiss is the needed catalyst to take you over the brink. Simultaneously, the kiss swallows your bountiful whines.

When you finally come down from your high, you kiss him deeply and feel him through his jeans against you.

“Let's take this to the bedroom, I need to grab—”

“Should I run to the pharmacy to—?”

In tandem, you chuckle over how in sync you are, and tip your perspired foreheads against the other.

Holding his hand, you lead him to your bedroom. You turn on your bedside lamp and gesture to the tissues, so he can clean his hands. You then bound to your bedroom bathroom and fumble around to find your condom packs somewhere in a drawer.

Upon your return, you're graced with the sight of Mark sitting naked on the edge of your bed, stroking himself. You almost salivate.

God, he's bigger than you expected, and that's only one part of his magnificent body. You didn't have the opportunity before to admire his muscular abs, but you take every chance to do so now. The way his arm flexes with each stroke. And those thighs...

“Sorry,” he murmurs and shyly shrinks a bit, in contrast to his lewd action, “hope it's okay that I took my pants off already.”

He really is quite endearing. Maybe even a little perfect.

“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, Mark.”

You place the condoms onto your bedside table, but are so absorbed with Mark's cock and existence. Entranced, it's your turn to drop to your knees.

Fingers wrap around his cock, and Mark's groans rise. You delve in your enthrallment for a bit, squeezing and stroking to your heart's content until you finally decide to ease him into your mouth.

Your tongue works wonders, tasting the underside of his length with every bob of your head. Meanwhile, his hands lazily thread through your hair and he watches attentively.

More saliva develops and drips, especially when you relax your mouth to let him hit the back of your throat. Obscene slurps accompany his delicate moans, both of which permeate the room in melodious unity.

As his threading develops into tight pulls of your hair, you detract yourself to avoid the night ending right then and there.

Since he's still sitting on the side of the bed, you sit onto his lap with a plan to abate and elongate the tension. You're back to kissing him, allowing both parties' hands to roam each other.

“I love your arms,” you mumble into his mouth as you reach for them.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I know you love my sexy arms.” You punch him teasingly.

But an idea flickers in your head. You halt your actions.

“This might be weird to ask, but could I...” you trail off, picking at your hands, realizing maybe you shouldn't finish your question.

“Hey,” he whispers, holding your chin in his hand. “You can ask me anything, beautiful.”

You hesitate with closed eyes.

“Could I... ride your arm?”

Peeking a nervous eye open, an evidently puzzled Mark stares back at you.

“I—What? Sure?” His voice raises in octaves.

Embarrassed, you try to wave it off. “Never mind that I asked.”

“No, hey,” he says, his palm caressing the side of your face and angling it towards him. “I'm flattered and obviously, nobody has ever asked to ride my arm before. But if you want to give it a go, by all means, I'm open to it.”

“Yeah?”

Mark gives you the sweetest smile and a reassuring nod. “Yeah.”

Since you suggested it, you lead him to lay on the bed, more in the centre so there'd be enough room for you to sit. He watches you gingerly lift his hand near head-level, as if he's almost flexing to show-off or about to lay his head on his palm.

Carefully, you sit onto his left arm, facing the direction of his body. At the contact, you shudder. “Is this okay?”

He agrees, enticed by your ass near his face and the general exquisiteness of your being. “You can put more weight on it, it's okay.”

You comply, relishing in the pressure of his arm against you. After becoming more comfortable and placing most of your weight to an arm on the bed, you slowly rub yourself upon his arm.

Mark's fascinated by this foreign act, eyes watching your every move. With his free hand, he touches himself.

His favourite part about you riding his arm? The look on your face—fluttering eyes paired with your lip biting—and the fact that you find him this attractive, that using him this way can simply get you off.

“This okay still?” you breathe.

“Fuck yeah.” He squeezes himself harder. He knows the answer to the next question, but he wants to hear it from you directly. “Does it feel good for you?”

You assent with a sharp moan. Without notice, you lick your palm with the intent of reaching over to grab his cock. At first, he's confused when he notices your hand, but he happily lets you handle him.

“Oh, God,” Mark pants.

You fasten your pace on his arm, grinding greedily against him. As you do so, your arm attempts to match the pace for his desire.

“Fuck,” Mark twists his head to look at your hips, tries to focus on how wet you are amidst his own pleasure, “you really do love my arms...”

It's a sweet dream for you—no, sweeter than any dream or fantasy could ever be. This is real, this spectacular sensation spreading all over and it's all thanks to his arm. Your body winds up, tighter and tighter, and you eventually break, chasing your second orgasm of the night.

Cleaning your mess up, you wipe his arm fast, keen on what's about to happen next. You then draw him into your mouth a bit to get him up again before rolling the condom onto him.

Once the rubber is on, you tease him from above, sliding the tip of his cock against your pulsing centre.

Mark may be a gentleman, but a gentleman can only be patient for so long. He seizes his possession and you gasp as he holds you by your hip, forcing you to sit down onto him.

The feeling is heavenly, stretching you sweetly. You bounce on his cock, and the sounds from you two are louder than from before. There's a small voice inside your head, worried about a noise complaint from your neighbours, but future you could deal with that.

Right now, it's all about Mark. He plays with your breasts with every move you make, while you fondle his abs and arms. Both of you try your best to look at one another through the pleasure, but it's difficult when you're floating higher and higher.

He then clasps your lower back and skillfully rises upward with the help of his strong abs. This position provides an angle for him to do all the work to thrust into you, as well as continuing to rub your breasts and even suck on them again.

At this point, you're in absolute state of frenzy, drowning in all the stimulation. Mark's underwater, right there with you too.

He pulls away in the midst of licking your nipple, his eyes going round. Nevertheless, you lean into him, your breasts pressed into his face and your mouth hangs.

Together, you cry each other's names and swear in endless spirals and the bliss finally reaches its peak for the evening.

As Mark lays next to you in your bed, observing your peaceful sleeping state, he's obviously amazed by tonight's events, but he’s also unsure what’s in-store for either of you.

There are so many factors at play with his career, you're both essentially still strangers, the future is unknown...

And yet, despite these worries, the feeling blooming in his chest is more than a blossoming liking. It’s akin to the moment he steps up to plate, either ready to bat or pitch. Nervousness, determination, and...

It’s too early to call it, but when he’s around you, he swears it feels a lot like his love for the game.

He shakes his head, not wanting to jump into the deep end this fast. He doesn't want to ruin this good thing prematurely.

Nevertheless, he places one last kiss atop your forehead before he sleeps, praying you'll be a new constant in his life, at least in the near future.

EPILOGUE — FOUR MONTHS LATER

Today is game four of the World Series and your city has won the previous three. If they continue their streak, tonight will be the night where Mark and his teammates take home the championship.

Hours prior to the big game, the teams are having batting practice beforehand to warm-up.

With your chin perched in your palm, you watch Mark closely—of course, safely from a distance and from behind him—and nod with every ball he hits well at the mound. You're seated in the lower area of the stadium among many of the other team members' families and friends, including a gleeful Chenle.

“Stop checking out your boyfriend's ass,” he orders, nudging you with his shoulder as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

“You stop checking out my boyfriend's ass,” you retort, nudging him back.

The two of you continue your little nudging contest until he says, “So when you guys get married—”

“Oh, my God, Chenle...”

“I'm just saying, we all know you two are going to have beautiful little baseball player babies! Anyway, as I was saying, when you guys get married, can Daegal be the ringbearer somehow? She's pretty much the reason why you guys got together in the first place.”

You shake your head, eyes still on your love. “Chenle, we'll have that conversation when and if we get there.”

“When we'll get there,” he states confidently, and you laugh, dismissing him.

Sure, it may have been a fresh relationship only four months in, but you couldn't deny that maybe the idea of marriage wiggled its way through your mind here and there. Despite your thoughts, it wasn't at the forefront; you were happy in love with Mark now, here in the present.

Player #02 hands his bat over to another player and jogs towards you. It makes you wonder why he hasn't done an advertisement with slo-mo running and wind blowing through his hair yet.

“How’d I do?” Mark asks, leaning onto the railing next to you. Chenle gives him two thumbs up with a large grin.

“Awesome," you agree. "Did you think about hitting my head with each ball?”

Mark chuckles and juts his tongue to a side of his mouth. “You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?”

“Never,” you quip, scrunching your nose. You reach out for him and hold the tips of his fingers in yours. “You nervous?”

“Yeah,” he exhales, closing his eyes. “More than usual.”

Your fingers progress forward and your thumbs rub the back of his hands lovingly. “You’ll do amazing, like always.”

“You’re too sweet, babe. But this might be the game and I might—”

You cut him off by cupping his cheek in your palms.

“And you are the Mark ‘The Tiger’ Lee”—you tenderly swipe some of his hair away from his face—“top contender for both the Rookie of the Year and CY Young Award. So no matter what happens, you will come out on top.”

In awe and in a little disbelief with how well-put that was, he stares at you with starry, doe-like eyes. He's so grateful to have met you, to have someone so supportive of him in his life.

After a few moments, he concedes. “I had a pretty great run this season, haven’t I?”

You admire how humble your boyfriend always is. It's one of his greatest traits.

“And you have me,” you add jokingly.

He tilts his head side to side. “I guess there’s that too...”

The two of you share a kiss, innocent at first, until he deepens it and you wrap your arms around his neck, which generates some of his teammates to holler and whistle. Likewise, you hear Chenle screech, "Save it for after the win!" and you swear you feel some popcorn being thrown at your back.

Finally, until you're content, you peel away and press your forehead against his.

“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you whisper.

Mark nods, a little more confident than before. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“So much,” he punctuates it with a loving squeeze to your shoulder.

You don't think you'll see him before the game starts, so you grant him one last good luck kiss.

You wouldn't know it that night, but by the end of the season, Mark would indeed take home the Rookie of the Year and the CY Young Award, being the youngest recipient of both awards.

That evening though, your city's team works in unbelievable harmony (or maybe the opposing team is having its worst day) because the game is a perfect one. Mark shuts out the other team, not allowing them to have any runs whatsoever...

Thus, sealing his first title of being a World Series champion.

But certainly not without his beloved running out into the field to give him a congratulatory hug and kiss among the sea of people.

And at the end of that night in the confines of your bedroom (after earth-shattering celebratory sex), you would find out that Chenle was right (and later, that he was in on it) when Mark, merely in his boxers, gets on one knee with a little opened box in front of you.

He's visibly shaking, and not because he's half-naked. You've never seen him so unnerved. Your love spills the following in almost one breath:

“I know we just started dating, and we can be engaged for, like, ten years or whatever. I just know that, deep down, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I may have felt this way since our first date. I really, really, really hope you feel the same, even if just a little bit."

Mark takes a deep breath, trying to regain composure for the important question he exhales.

Tears rise in your eyes as an ocean of feelings hit you, but within that ocean, no doubts rise to the surface whatsoever.

All you think about is how you will be forever grateful for the baseball that hit your head on that life-changing day.

You immediately say yes.

#mark lee x reader #mark lee smut #mark lee fluff #mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagines #mark lee fanfic #nct smut #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fluff #nct dream fluff #nct dream smut #yn brainrot

4K notes · View notes

yanderenightmare · 3 months

Text

Deku - Midoriya Izuku

TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere

gn reader

Thinking about being childhood friends with Izuku, who’s always had a bit of a crush on you.

You’ve always known, but you’ve never humored it. He’s your friend – anything else would just be awkward. If you had to put it in any other term, you’d say he felt more like a little brother.

You wish he’d allowed the two of you to grow apart – as normal people do.

There wasn’t really any reason for the two of you to stay friends after middle school. His quirk suddenly manifested, and he got into UA – became a pro-hero – and then the symbol of peace. And you were still… kind of just doing your thing – studying, working, struggling to pay rent – struggling to keep a date…

The two of you never had much in common anyway, and you never really knew what to talk about with him anymore – only knowing to ask him how his mother was. After all, you grew out of your otaku phase a long while ago – and otherwise, you felt out-educated in any and every conversation the two of you had with each other. You swear talking to him makes you feel like a toddler learning your first words – it’s humiliating, and you don’t understand how any of it’s remotely stimulating for him, either.

Still, he’ll text you when he has the time, asking if you’d like to meet up at a café – talk, catch up – and you, not wanting to be rude, always accept.

You’d gone wide-eyed the first time you’d met him after middle school. Jeez Louise – he’d had to have grown twice his size – jacked and scarred to no end. It only got worse over the years. Now, adults – he must be twice your size. Bigger even.

You blush now when he flirts with you. But not so much for the reasons he wants.

Honestly, it’s more uncomfortable than it’s flattering. It was Izuku, after all – Deku – no matter how little he resembled the crybaby from your childhood – he’d always be that same nerdy loser friend who’d chased after you ever since you first met.

He might have grown up, but his crush on you hadn’t.

His doe-eyed look of longing and adoration had always made you feel a little awkward – a little sorry for him. And now that he’s become a man, it’s only become even more… desperate… a little pathetic, actually…

Bedroom eyes that make you laugh nervously, pretending to brush it off as a joke but really wishing he’d just give it a rest already. Surely, as a pro-hero and public figure, he could get a date? One of the many screaming fans that pine for him everywhere he drags that awful golden cape he has on his shoulders. And if not any of them, then maybe a model. A movie star even.

Why is he so hung up on you?

The funny thing is, you’d tried vying him of his crush by telling him about hook-up after hook-up, boyfriend after boyfriend – treating him like a girlfriend you could gossip with.

But it’s almost like he takes it as a challenge – talking and helping you through your relationships, giving his input and advice – just like a real friend would… only… always implementing something… something condescending, something suggestive, something saying you ought to be with him instead – he’d never treat you like that, he’d never do you wrong, you’d be taking good care of with him.

You’d made the mistake of saying you were struggling with a class at university – just to make conversation – just to talk about something trivial. But of course, he’d seen it as an opportunity – quick to offer his help, saying he’d taken that class as an extracurricular – just for a bit of fun, he’d said, light reading material he’d done on the side of his internship.

You don’t know why it’s so hard to tell him no.

Suppose it’s the possibility of being wrong – the guilt of thinking he has impure intentions when he’s supposedly the purest person in the world.

But you should have trusted your instincts.

“Please, Izuku-” You’d immediately restored to begging. Who wouldn’t? He’s a two-meter-tall monster of a man – jacked with muscles fatter than a bear.

Your phone’s been missing since you came back from the bathroom – your lips wet with his unwanted kisses – your neck sore from having his fist wrapped around it when you tried stopping him.

You’d only managed to break free after biting – blood salty in your mouth. You nearly vomited, choking on a mix of bile and fear.

Fuck – your legs are so weak, you might just buckle from the dread alone – feeling like a bunny snagged on fox teeth.

“You used to take me when we’d play wrestle... you remember?”

The comment is pulled out of nowhere.

He stalks you, a fond look on his face as though the two of you were reminiscing good old times. As though his eyes weren’t a nocturnal green like foxfire on the fen. As though he wasn’t radiating black whip – ready to snare you.

“Think you can take me now?”

You had your hands raised apprehensively – but the hopelessness took its toll and made your entire body shake on the spot.

Your only hope was to talk him out of it. If only you could think past the fear and string a sentence together that wasn’t along the lines of “Please-”

But something about that look on his face told you he wouldn’t listen to reason anymore. Not manic, not like a person who’d finally snapped – but controlled – resolute – and playful even. Nothing like you’d ever seen. Nothing you could understand.

“What’s wrong, hm?” He smiles, head tipped in that charming way that used to make you want to pinch his cheek. Now it just makes you sick to look at – swallowing thickly as you tack another step back away from it. “I’ll go easy – so don’t worry… I know it's not exactly a fair fight anymore…”

Your better judgment failed you – fight-or-flight kicked in, and you made a break for it.

Budging into the couch on your way, it’s a messy scramble for the door – but you manage. Feeling feverish with dread and pumped full of adrenaline, you brush the cold handle with just your fingertips before something wraps around your midriff in a snug grip – pulling you back into the living room.

You’re lifted from the ground, kicking – now screaming – flailing in the air before you’re flipped on your back against the couch.

“Don’t be like that~” He murmurs. “Always so wishy-washy~” Voice in a low purr that makes you feel like coughing up your heart – squirming beneath him and his heavy hands as they paw your thighs – manhandling you like nothing you’d ever imagine him to do.

Raking his fingers through the dough before squeezing your ass greedily – kneading his fat crotch against the thin fabric protecting your sex.

“Complaining about all your weak-dicked boyfriends as if begging me to come fuck you myself – yet such a flighty little slut when it comes down to it.” He sneers, and blackwhip tightens some around your limbs. “Let me help you out.”

One hand tugs your underwear until it rips, whilst the other hand pulls up to grab your face – squeezing your cheeks to keep you still when forcing his kisses on you.

“After all… what are friends for?”

2K notes · View notes

dluxdekorhardware · 1 year

Text

Home Office Decor Accessories Retro World Globe

Around the world, people are more interested in living locally and creating a personal connection with their community. That's why Dluxdekor is bringing you all-new global accents for your space! These beautiful interlocking globe sculptures feature designs based on different cities around the earth—with an emphasis on cultural icons that have shaped these communities. They're perfect additions to home or office decor spaces!

For more information, visit our website: www.dluxdekor.com

Contact for any queries: - [email protected]

ORDER NOW: - +91-6396731011

#world globe #world globe decor #shelf decor #interior decor #around the world #world globes #home decor #interior design #shelf decorating #world wide #model globe #shelf decoration #home decoration #Decor Accessories #Retro World Globe

0 notes

just-jordie-things · 11 months

Note

I know he's not your favorite but consider... #73 with Itadori... short reader has a crush on him but is too afraid to confess bc she knows he likes tall girls lol I think this could be super cute

kiss prompt 73: height difference kisses where one person has to bend down and the other is on their tippy toes

a/n: first time writing for itadori !!! ___

if you had to think about it, you'd had a crush on itadori yuuji since the day you met him.

after getting a call from megumi where he'd begrudgingly asked for your help tracking down a cursed tool that some spooky-loving school club had snatched before he could, you hadn't expected things to take the turn they did.

as soon as you'd run into the pink haired boy, it was like a daze took hold of you. megumi honestly could have believe you'd been poisoned with how you stammered over your words and moved awkwardly. he'd never seen you so out of it when exorcizing curses. you were sloppy, defensive maneuvers delayed, offensive maneuvers... megumi would have gotten the job done better when he was ten, so, let's just leave it at that.

but nothing would have stopped itadori from eating that finger, and, well, we all know what happens from there.

you were surprised with how quickly he adapted to an entire world he'd never known the existence of. he was an avid learner, eager to train, eager to educate himself. he was always asking you questions that megumi found silly having grown up in jujutsu society, but you'd been happy to talk to him for hours about the ins and outs of it all. that was how your friendship began to blossom, you supposed.

it was easy to crush on yuuji. he was kind, handsome, silly, and had a warm energy about him that just drew you to him like a moth to a flame. even with your harbored feelings for him, being around him was easy, and comfortable. you'd only known him a few months, but the way he treated you made you feel like you'd been close friends for years.

however, due to how close you'd gotten, you were well aware that you were not his type. he'd joked a few times about how he liked tall girls like jennifer lawrence, and you didn't exactly meet that standard.

after he'd casually let that information slip, you found yourself comparing the height difference between you two more often. it was no shock that he was taller than you, you could remember the first time you'd met him you'd tilted your head back to stare up at him- your eyes had been blown wide like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. he'd just leapt through a window like it was nothing and fought alongside you like his entire reality hadn't just flipped upside down- but now that he'd made his ideal type clear, you'd frown when it would dawn on you that you were barely even an average height.

you'd stand up a little straighter when you were standing before him, but even still you'd tilt your chin so you could look at him properly. he'd noticed the sour expression on you a few times, but you always brushed it off as something else. it felt sort of childish to tell him that you were upset for not being taller.

it's one afternoon that you're out shopping with the other first years that you finally tell him the truth. not that you'd planned to, of course, you were ready to take this secret to the grave.

but you're wandering around with yuuji, half avoiding nobara who was on a rampage and throwing armfuls of clothes at megumi, and half looking at the display of silly hats. some of them were cute, but most of them were pokemon themed, or beanies with funny saying.

yuuji had excitedly picked up a fluffy pikachu hat, complete with the tall ears, and fluffy yellow flaps that hung down your face, ending in paw shaped pockets that you could stick your hands into. he was grinning as he turned to you to tug the hat over your head. you had half a mind to scold him for ruining what was a good hair day, but you keep it to yourself. he looked too happy to have you model the accessory for him.

and you'd thought it was cute, at first. then you take note of how he has to stoop over to reach your level in order to properly adjust the dorky hat, and you're made aware again of how short you are in comparison to him. of how small in general you are compared to him. his tall stature complete with broad shoulders and biceps that were starting to display how hard he'd been training himself- as appealing as he was to look at, you're frowning due to your own self pity.

and when he's done playing with the droopy ears on top of your head and sees the look on your face, he's frowning, too.

"what's wrong?" he asks, quietly, worriedly, like a good friend. "you don't hate pikachu, do you?"

it makes you laugh, even just a little bit, and yuuji gives you a small smile in relief that his joke worked to ease your sad expression, even just a little bit.

"no, it's not pikachu," you huff, pulling the hat off your head and placing it carefully back on the mannequin. "i'm just short"

his brow furrows, assuming at first that he'd heard you wrong, but when you don't say anything else and give him an awkward shrug, he realizes you're serious.

"so?" he asks, chuckling to himself. "what's so bad about that?"

you avoid his gaze while you pretend to take interest in the other hats on the wall, despite you not being a hat person, which he knows.

"it's pretty dumb" you say, running your fingers over a fluffy sylveon cap that was similar to the pikachu one.

"try me" yuuji smiles at you, leaning into the display to catch your attention again. his smile reaches his eyes, and he seems to genuinely hopeful to ease your foolish concern, that you find yourself giving in.

"promise not to laugh at me?" you mutter.

he raises a hand to his chest, drawing an x over his heart before raising his palms towards you in silent promise. you crack a smile at how serious he's taking this.

you take a deep breath before confessing the thought that's been plaguing your mind for the last few weeks.

"i know you like tall girls," you say, staring straight ahead at the sylveon hat like it had been the object of your desire for our entire life. "and i know i'm not even close to being called tall,"

yuuji blinks a few times, his brows raising as he processes this information.

you were upset because you didn't consider yourself his type? did he understand that right? so this was because... you wanted to be his type?

"well, maybe a fifth grader would think i'm tall," you began to mumble to yourself. "but that doesn't really make me feel better-"

"you think you wouldn't be my type because you're so short?" he cuts off your rambling, and she turns to him with a bewildered expression.

"well you don't have to put it like that," you mumble with a furrowed brow. "kinda makes me feel worse-"

"(y/n), i promised i wouldn't laugh," he cuts you off again, stepping forward to wrap his hands around your shoulders. "but that's the dumbest thing i've ever heard!"

you frown up at him, not comforted at all at his attempts to make you feel better.

"you're really bad at this" you tell him, and he begins to break his promise as a few giggles escape through his toothy grin.

"are you kidding?" he teases. "you're the cutest person i've ever met!" he reaches his hands up to your face, squeezing your cheeks together playfully. "i don't want you to be any taller, i like you just the way you are!"

your face begins to heat up under his touch, and with his hold on you, you have no choice but to stare back at him, only making your blush burn hotter.

"you are my type, even as a tiny lil' tater tot," he says, and despite his laughter, you can tell he's being completely genuine. you can see it in the shine in his eyes as he stares at you. "that doesn't matter. what matters if you're a really awesome fucking person, and a badass"

the knot between your brows begins to relax and your lips curl into a smile at his sweet words.

"you're not just saying that?" you ask quietly, just to be sure he wasn't spewing out bullshit just to make you feel better.

yuuji laughs at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling from pure joy. he doesn't respond, but he doesn't need to say anything else.

instead he leans over you, bending almost dramatically to reach your short stature in order to press his lips against yours. it's a short kiss, but it's sweet, gentle, warm- all things yuuji.

when he pulls away, before he can stand back up properly, you're shooting up to the tips of your toes, your hands flying towards his shoulders for balance as you return his kiss. it's fast, eager, curious- all things you. he can't help but smile against your lips as he drops a hand from your face so he can wrap his arm around your waist, keeping you close.

you both distantly hear a harumph! from a passerby in the shop, having forgotten you were still in public. you pull away with sheepish smiles and pink cheeks.

"you are short though" he tells you point blank.

"i know, yuuji" you huff.

"but i like it" he says proudly, and you turn away so he won't see how your blush is spreading down your neck.

you still notice the significant difference in your height often, but it's mostly due to yuuji pointing it out every time he bends over to kiss you from there on out.

___

a/n: i love him sm it's criminal that i haven't written for him :'( xoxo ~ jordie

#itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji #itadori x reader #yuuji x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji itadori #yuji itadori #yuji itadori x reader #itadori yuji x reader #yuji x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutu kaisen x reader fluff #jjk x reader fluff #itadori yuuji x reader fluff

3K notes · View notes

httpjungkookcom · 5 months

Text

CYBER BOY | JJK (m)

Pairing | Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 12K, not bad!

Genre | Android! Jungkook x Grad Student! Reader, Fluff, Smut

Summary | Jimin, as much as you love him, is a major pain in your ass. After dragging you to his store against your will (literally) you end up with; the newly manufactured, eerily human Jungkook android model. He's so human, you begin to have questions.

Index | A lot of fluff, reader is terrified, Jungkook is a sweetheart, Jungkook is absolutely whipped, Jungkook is good at anything and everything you could think of, including pleasing you ;), soft smut, Jungkook just wants you to feel good

A/N | You don't really need to know the lore of Detroit Become Human, it's just briefly mentioned in the story. Cyber Life is basically a manufacturer of robots/androids, that's really all the background you need for the story. Enjoy! <3

Jimin’s very busy today talking your ear off. Well, more than normal you should say. Two weeks ago he scored this huge paid internship with CyberLife, a company that currently holds a monopoly over all other tech companies with its superior android manufacturing, innovative technology, and competitive prices that “Are to sure surpass your expectations.” He was ecstatic, going on about how maybe they’ll gift him an android as an intern present (spoiler alert, they did not.) Regardless, they pay him very well for an internship and he loves their technology so he’s still happy. Now, it’s something about a new android he’s droning on about.

“No, I don’t think you understand Y/n.” Jimin clarifies, walking alongside you on the campus pathway. “One in the entire world, only one is being made.”

“I understand plenty, Jim.” You genuinely laugh, side-eyeing him as he questions your intelligence. “I think I understood the first time you said there’s only one, and the second time, and the third, and now the hundredth.”

“And you don’t even want to see him?! I don’t understand!!” Jimin almost yells, wide eyes as he turns to you to emphasize his point.

Ever since Jimin scored the internship, you constantly refuse to ever step foot in the company. Mostly because you know Jimin would try to market to you, and he’s got a reputation for never getting told no. That’s the excuse you always gave, telling him off every time he’d talk about the “low low price of 4,999 dollars!” Secondly, the androids freak you out a bit. They’re hyper-realistic, all the way down to every single man-made eyelash on their face. You’re sure if you look close enough, you could probably see fake pores.

However, you don’t hate artificial intelligence at all, nor are you a part of the momentum-gaining group of “androids are stealing our jobs, and ruining society!” You suppose for you, it’s just how realistic they look, act, speak, and walk. Everything about them is human-like. Maybe if they had a Siri-sounding voice, or walked stiff, maybe you’d get behind the idea of owning one.

“You would try and get me to buy it, why are you saying him? You never do that Jimin?” You ask, laughing softly. “What, you got a crush on him?” You raise your brows, elbowing him with your hands remaining in your pockets, cold air waiting for the opportunity to bite at your skin.

Jimin scoffs in defense, pretending you offended him as he shoves you away. “We were told to market it as him because he’s so realistic most people apparently won’t know the difference.”

“…And you want me to buy that thing!?! An android that is so human you can’t even tell?!” You ask, feet stopping in their tracks. “Jimin, you’re out of your mind.” You roll your eyes, beginning to turn around, and instead, make your way to your apartment complex.

“Nooo, at least walk me to the store like always. This isn’t fair!” Jimin complains like a child, stomping his feet softly in the thin layer of snow that’s beginning to form on the sidewalk. “I just wanted to tell you because I think it’s interesting, I promise I won’t market him to you.”

“You’re a liar.” You turn back, unable to fight back the smile as you walk up to him. “Fine, let’s get going before it starts snowing harder. I’d hate for you to be covered in it and you ruin all your bots with the liquid.” Sticking out your tongue, Jimin mimics you as he does it back.

“It wouldn’t ruin them, c'mon Y/n. They’re waterproof.”

“Jimin.”

“Right, sorry sorry.”

Jimin stops talking about androids for the rest of the walk, instead beginning his daily oversharing session, as he vents about this mystery boy “Taehyung” he’s been seeing. Jimin claims he’s always on campus, everywhere, but you have yet to see him. Secretly, you’re starting to believe Jimin is making parts of him up. He wraps up the rant as you approach the door, “Anyways, he seems genuinely sweet. I think I’ll give it a chance.”

“Yeah, I also think he seems nice. Maybe it’ll be worth it.” You shrug, beginning to pull your arm away from Jimin’s where they’re interlinked.

“Just like…you should give our androids a chance.” You're dragged into the store before you can even get another word in, Jimin locking down extra hard on your arm in case you fight it. As the doors close behind the both of you, you finally give in. “That big box over there, that’s our new one-of-a-kind boy.” Jimin beams, walking you over to it. There’s only the logo of cyber life on the front, no model codes, details, or specifications anywhere to be seen.

“So, what’s he look like?” You ask, finally able to pry your arm away from Jimin’s chokehold.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know??”

“Exactly what I mean, I don’t know.” Jimin spits jokingly, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “CyberLife is keeping all the details under wraps, I suppose whoever gets him is the first to find out. Personally, I think it’s to see if people recognize it as an android if the owner takes him out into public.” The information feels like whiplash, as does the mixing of it, him, and owner.

“That is the freakiest thing I’ve ever heard.” You laugh. “So, how much is he going for?” You shrug as Jimin smirks at you, eventually punching his arm.

“What, you want him?” He earns himself another punch. “He’s not.”

“Jimin, what the fuck? Is this an empty box???” You're now beginning to think Jimin is fucking with you. Maybe a prank to see how gullible you are to the information he tells you, never really questioning his nerdy rants. “No characteristics, no price, let me guess, no name next huh?”

“Ding ding ding.” Jimin chuckles. “The model doesn’t have a name. He introduces himself to his owner one-on-one.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Wait wait wait, don’t you want to know how you can get him if he’s not for sale?” He coaxes you back to the box laughing the entire time as he speaks. Once again grabbing you so you don’t have a chance to run away, you’re left trapped. If the androids surrounding you in the store are already this realistic, you’re a bit afraid to see what’s in the box honestly. “Aren’t you at least a bit curious, an android not up for sale hm?”

“With the information you just gave me, it’s an empty box up for sale,” You complain, ready to go home and cozy up on the couch with this weather. It’s cold, wet, and you’re already slipping into your winter break laziness.

“It's a raffle.”

“Oh great.”

“I’ll enter you into it.” Jimin beams, running over to a computer behind the cashier counter. You groan loudly, beginning to follow him to stop his antics. “Uhm ma’am, employees only beyond this point.” Jimin changes his tone to his customer service voice, holding a hand in front of your face. “I’ll be with you in one moment.”

“Jimin, this isn’t funny. I’m going to kick your ass,” You complain, glancing over your shoulder to the large box behind you as if he’d pop out at any moment. “I don’t even want the opportunity to own him, people would probably kill others over him.”

“One moment, please ma’am,” He speaks, breaking up into laughter throughout his sentence. You’re helpless as you stand at the counter, watching in disbelief as he types in all of your information faster than the speed of light.

“I wish we never sat next to each other in Introduction to Computer Science.” You laugh, watching him click submit before making his way back to where you stand by the box.

“Raffle results come out tomorrow. That’s why I had to drag you here.” Jimin beams, “If you don’t want him, you can always give him to me.”

Faking a gag, you begin your way out of the store. “I'm going home, Jimin. I'm gonna be spending my winter break alone, android-less, binge-watching movies, so feel free to stop by.” You smile, waving to him from the door. Jimin inserts some snarky remark that you don’t really catch, rolling your eyes at him through the window regardless.

Doing exactly as you promised yourself, you all but melt into the soft bed you’ve been in a long-distance relationship with the entire semester. Now, you’re able to catch up with spring classes being an entire month away. You spend the rest of your afternoon double-checking that all of your assignments are in before allowing yourself to sleep. The next day, you begin your marathons, finally catching up on all the shows you said you’d watch. With a content sigh, you begin your second binge-watching marathon of the break. It’s cut short just one episode in, a small knock catching your attention. Following it, it’s your front door.

“Hi, Jimin, do you wanna-“ It’s not Jimin standing on the other side of the door, not at all. There are two tall men, with a big box placed in the middle of either one of them. “Oh, sorry. I was expecting someone else. How can I help you guys?”

“Is this the residence of Y/n L/n?” One asks, making your throat run dry as you glance at the box behind them. “If you could just sign off on your delivery, free of charge provided by the company.” Glancing down at the paper presented, CyberLife. Shaky hands sign a sloppy signature, the movers quickly move in and place the box in the middle of the walkway before rushing off. Closing the door behind you, you’re at a loss.

Wouldn’t they call you if you won? Or an email? Or mail? Who in their right mind just comes and delivers such an expensive and precious item without some sort of confirmation beforehand??? Your normally cozy and comfortable apartment suddenly feels too small with the box in it, another human-like thing occupying the space.

“Jimin?!” This has to be a prank, Jimin has to be laughing his ass off in this stupid box. With caution, you press an ear against the metal and try to hear laughing, snorting, breathing, anything. The box is white and blue, only confirming the high possibility of an android being inside. “Jimin, if you're in this box, I’m going to kill you for real this time.” You give a fair warning, pressing and pulling hard on the side handle. It opens smoothly, the door not even creaking once as you pull it open.

You jump hard as you peek into it, not Jimin. Definitely not Jimin. Hiding behind the door, you peek once more into the inside to take in the sight. He’s…pretty? Somehow his android skin is activated without even being turned on yet, hair styled with his bangs pushed back from his forehead. His nose is slightly large, but it fits his face perfectly. There’s a small mole underneath his lower lip that you think is an interesting addition to an android model.

With a hard beating heart that feels as though it’ll burst through your rib cage, you abandon your protection. There’s an owner's manual placed neatly in front of his body that you pick up with shaky hands. Activate your android by pressing on its led sensor for 10 seconds. It’s the longest 10 seconds of your life, heart hammering against your bones.

His eyes slowly peel open, blinking a couple of times as he takes in his surroundings. Human, scarily human. He’s careful of your reaction as he steps out of his box to not scare you too badly, pushing the door closed behind him to create more room in the small apartment. “Hello, I’m Jungkook.”

There it is.

You don’t answer, prompting him to continue introducing himself. “I’m a one-of-a-kind android that was beneficial for promotional purposes, but mainly I'm built to be the best companion possible for my owner. I possess old and new features that are designed to make the everyday life of my companion significantly better.”

“Jungkook?” You mumble, his name feels way too human. “What’s your full name?”

“Jeon Jungkook, from Busan, South Korea.” You could throw up everywhere, the realistic bot smiling softly as he stands in front of you.

“Yeah, yeah sorry. I’m Y/n. …you are an android, right? Do you mind if I, uh?” You gesture to his chest. Your brain is struggling to believe he’s an android and not some sort of joke sent to you. Jungkook happily obliges, removing his synthetic skin and popping open his chest panel. Stepping a bit closer, you can definitely confirm that they are CyberLife organs and blue blood. “Okay, sorry I’m just having trouble adjusting, that’s all,” You mumble, closing his panel for him.

“There is usually an adjustment period for new owners. Have you had another android in the past?” Jungkook asks, glancing around your apartment for any sign of one. He takes a couple of steps away from the box, feet making no noise despite being a giant piece of what is essentially machinery. Freaky.

“Oh, no no. It’s not that I’ve been against it, I just haven’t had the money or need for one I suppose.” You explain, feeling like you owe him an explanation as to why you don’t have an earlier model. “I’m a grad student, you see?”

Jungkook nods softly, gesturing to the couch for you to sit down. You follow, a bit confused as to what this could possibly be about. It feels as though he’s about to break up with you, making you laugh softly to yourself as you sit on the opposite side of the couch. “I’m not sure what needs you have, but just let me know and I will do my best to fulfill them. This can range from construction, gardening, cooking, cleaning, companionship, intimacy, etc.”

“Intimacy, what does that even mean in terms of an android?”

“Some androids are designed to carry out human wants and desires for sexual intercourse-”

“Okay, okay, sorry I asked.” You cut Jungkook off before he can give you the long, likely in-depth explanation of their usage. “So, what do you want to do around here? I mean it’s just me, so it’ll probably get pretty lonely unless you come to my classes with me.” You chuckle. “I mean, it’s not very big but it’s comfortable, feel free to help yourself to whatever you’d like.”

“I want to do what you want me to do, Y/n,” Jungkook answers, speaking like a true CyberLife android, a computer.

“God, it’s so weird.” You complain. “You look so human but act like you’re an android, so it’s just throwing me off.” You smile softly, watching as he smiles back. His smile is pretty, perfectly aligned teeth on full display. When he smiles hard, small wrinkles form in the corners of his eyes which you find oddly endearing. “Your LED also is barely noticeable, just all of it together tricks my mind into thinking you’re a human.”

“That’s how I was engineered, with that in mind.” He smiles, “I don’t think I’ll be mass-marketed due to how human my design is, it would likely cause unrest within society.” You nod along to that, it most definitely would only make the anti-android movement worse. “If you’d like, I can adjust my LED to be more of the stereotypical android look.”

“No, no that’s okay. I like you however you present yourself. But, can you change your hairstyle? It’s just a bit too CyberLife, fresh out of the package if you want to go out in public later on.” You shrug, once again feeling the need to explain to him. He does, switching through various hairstyles before deciding on one. It’s slightly longer, with soft waves making it look fluffier than before. It’s still just as dark, but it suits him.

“I can also simulate body modifications such as piercings, tattoos, scarification, split tongue, stretched lobes, whatever you would wish for me to look like,” Jungkook informs, once again sounding fresh out of the box.

“You do whichever ones you’d like, Jungkook. It’s your body, fake or not.” You smile, watching as he shuffles through the catalog of options in his head. A giant smile overtakes his face as he comes out with two face piercings, a couple of ear ones, and most notably his tattoo sleeve.

“Uhm, is this okay? I can always change my setting back if you prefer it-”

“It’s okay, Jungkook. We gotta get you out of your default settings, jeez.” You laugh. “I’m not really sure what to do now, I was watching a TV show if you’d like to watch it with me?”

“I’d love to.” He beams, watching as you jog into your room. (You forgot the name of it already, mind racing 1000 miles a minute with everything going on.) You come back out with blankets to hide it, handing him one as you set up the living room TV. “I’d also love to make you dinner while we watch, would that be okay?”

“Kook, YES. I don’t mind what you do unless it’s like actively punching holes in my drywall. Then maybe I’ll draw the line.” You joke, finally earning a laugh from him. It’s contagious, spreading over to you as you giggle along. You don’t think you’ve completely wrapped your brain around the fact that he’s one of a kind, purposely engineered to basically do anything and everything, and so annoyingly pretty as he sits in your small apartment content as ever. “Also, I’m not sure if you notice, but your footsteps make almost no noise. It’s okay to make sounds. I think if you walk around here completely silent you'll probably scare the shit out of me.”

“Noted.” Jungkook chuckles, sliding off of the couch and making his way into the kitchen. He makes more noise this time, and it’s much more comfortable that way. The soft knocking of pots and pans fills the background, not enough to be annoying but enough to let you know there is someone else here. Maybe, and you’d never ever admit it to Jimin, his addition to your home is starting to feel like it will be a welcomed one.

Getting used to having another person, an android, in the house is a learning experience. The following morning after he was delivered, you had completely forgotten all about him in your half-awake state. After using the bathroom, your feet shuffle out into the kitchen in search of any sustenance before you start the day, Jimin already texting you to ensure you guys are still on for your morning coffee run and walk to the CyberLife store.

“Good morning, I made you-”

You’ve never screamed so loud, so early in the morning. You’re sure you woke up all of your neighbors in a 5-door radius, along with the incoming noise complaint that is surely on its way. You screamed so loud that Jungkook has to recalibrate his audio processing system, standing still for multiple minutes as it reboots.

“Sorry, sorry Kook.” You cackle after the initial fright, hands holding your stomach as you almost cry from laughter. “Adjustment period, remember when you said that?” You laugh harder, making your way over to him. Jungkook laughs softly along with you, not nearly as hard but he feels happy seeing you so happy. He grins hard as you wipe away your tears, your stomach hurting from just how hard you're laughing. “Okay, okay, that’s enough. I have to stop.” With another glance at Jungkook in the kitchen, you’re cracking up again.

“Y/n! I thought I’d be nice and make you breakfast!” Jungkook whines as you continue laughing at him, unable to hold it back for longer than one-minute intervals. You slowly calm down over the course of the next 10 minutes, forcing yourself to not think about it. “Anyway, I made you a breakfast sandwich. I’m not sure if you have anything to do today but-” Jungkook stops talking as he notices your chest heaving, trying hard not to laugh. “Are you-are you serious?? You can't even look at me huh?” Jungkook cracks, smiling hard.

At this point, there are tears rolling down your face. “Sorry, sorry. Okay, I’m done for real this time. Just had to get it out of my system.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Jungkook jokes, putting the plate in front of you regardless of you continuing to giggle every now and then.

“I’m not sure what you’d like to do today, but I’m gonna go out with a friend for a bit. There’s not much to do here, I’m normally used to being out all the time, but there’s Netflix, Hulu, Disney, whatever you’d like to watch.” You talk in between bites, rushing as you inhale the food. You get ready quickly, awkwardly side-hug Jungkook as a goodbye, and rush off to meet up with Jimin.

Jimin is as ecstatic as ever, going on and on about who he thinks got the android in yesterday’s raffle. He gets his hopes up a bit before going to the store, coming up with the idea that maybe no one won and he’ll be unboxed today. Nerves flood throughout your body, your mind thinking back to the sweet boy that made you breakfast this morning. “Anyway, what’re you up to today?” Jimin sighs after his excitement, strolling along the sidewalk with his drink in hand.

“Probably a bit of holiday shopping, and hanging out with a friend-”

“A friend?! Who? Do I know them?” He interrupts you, immediately questioning.

“No, no I don’t think you do. He’s a family friend of my mom’s side-”

“HE?”

“I hate talking to you.” You laugh, no longer feeling the need to continue talking about it. You ignore Jimin’s prying questions, favoring dismissing all of them. What’s he look like? Where’s he from? Is he cute? What’s his name? Is he nice? Jimin brings up anything and everything. “Okay, we’re here, oh noooo.” You chuckle, pretending to be disappointed.

“I’ll find out eventually.” Jimin sticks his tongue out at you before entering the store. He’s beyond disappointed that the box is no longer sitting in the store, texting you about it as you walk home.

Coming home, you’re a bit more prepared as you enter your apartment, spotting Jungkook in the living room. The upcoming week is your adjustment period, slowly becoming less and less spooked by his presence in your cozy home. Jungkook has learned to turn down his hearing slightly in the mornings until you get used to him, no longer having to re-coordinate his processing system constantly. You’ve also warmed up a lot to him over the week, the sweet android quickly becoming a part of your everyday life and holding a fond place in your heart. You’ve made movie nights become a ritual, cuddling up to Jungkook on colder nights. (He’s aware and even adjusts his systems to make himself put out more heat for you.)

Jungkook is also the best listener you know, listening and taking in all of the stories you’re willing to tell him. He knows a lot about Jimin, as you seem to hang out with him the most. He had dumbly asked if he was your boyfriend, sending you into another laughing fit you were unable to stop. Along with this, he’s started accompanying you out more. Jungkook comes on grocery runs with you, goes to the library with you, goes to the nearby cafe you frequent, and even begins joining you on nights out at clubs. It’s scary how no one realizes he’s an android and doesn’t even bat an eye at him even in android-free spaces.

Most nights out, Jungkook has to fight you into bed in your tipsy state. You appreciate him for it, and all of the patience he shows you. “Y/n, let me take off your makeup.” Jungkook giggles softly, sitting on the edge of the bed as he holds a makeup wipe in his hand. He’s carefully holding your ankle in his palm, keeping you from sliding head first off the bed if you move too much. As you shuffle around to better lay on the bed, he no longer needs to restrain you. Currently, you have the spins, holding onto Jungkook’s clothes in a death grip to ground yourself. Jungkook smiles softly at you. “It’ll just take two seconds, come here.”

You finally oblige, shuffling around to place your head in his lap. “Do your worst, pretty boy.” You slur slightly, smiling up at him.

“Pretty boy?” Kook raises a brow at you.

“Mhmm, my pretty boy.” You nod, wearing a soft smile as Jungkook wipes your makeup off. “You wanna sleep with me?”

“Sorry?” Jungkook almost chokes on his fake spit.

“You’re warm, come, lay down.” You coax him, pulling him down. You’re not laying on the bed the right way at all, heads laying at the foot of the bed. You’re also slightly diagonal, not caring at all as you cuddle close to him for warmth. Jungkook smiles hard as you nuzzle into his chest, one of your legs swinging over his. “Warm, soft.” You hum. You get the best sleep of your entire life, and it now becomes a normal thing for Jungkook to lay with you.

You learn a lot about him during this time as well. One, Jungkook can taste and eat as his program allows him to. He doesn’t need to at all, but once again he was built for companionship and he can’t think of anything sadder than people eating meals alone. You had learned this when Jungkook offered to eat with you, confusing you to hell and back before actually explaining. Now, you always make him get something when you guys go out in public, to really sell the whole he’s just a human drinking his overpriced cafe drink!! Considering other androids don't eat or drink anything other than blue blood, it really adds to his non-android appearance.

Two, he’s been programmed to be good at absolutely everything.

Personal fitness: Jungkook is more than happy to accompany you on jogs, encouraging you but also giving you the peace of mind you need when running through rough parts of town. Along with this, he somehow is able to calculate your strides and distance, which you believe blindly and don’t even question. Lastly, he’s able to carry water and electrolyte snacks that he claims are good for you when you’re physically active. When you refuse to drink, Jungkook jokingly wrestles you into submission until you take at least one sip.

Cooking: Jungkook has taken to making all of your meals, and you’re not even upset about it. Every meal is different but just as delicious, you assume he has some sort of chef programming. When you don’t have an item Jungkook needs, he’s more than willing to go out and get it for you. You’re a bit too anxious to send him on his own, but in reality, he’d probably be okay given his appearance. Despite taking over cooking needs, if you’re lucky he sometimes lets you help out with baking holiday cookies. Jungkook still takes to distracting you, twirling you around with a giant smile to the music playing in the background.

“Kook,” You whine, a giant smile plastered on your face despite complaints. You can feel Jungkook smile as he tucks his face into your neck, one hand holding your waist and the other taking your palm into his own. “The cookies will burn.”

“They still have 3 minutes, don’t worry hun.” Jungkook smiles hard, pulling back to look at you. You match the cheek-aching smile, forced to twirl as Kook easily spins you. Getting carried away, the cookies did slightly burn in the oven.

Makeup (yes, even makeup): Jungkook had offered to help you get ready for a research-related conference, let’s just say you got a lot of compliments that night.

Cleaning: You tell him constantly he doesn’t have to spend his days cleaning, but he listens very minimally and still picks up for you every day. Sometimes he tries to hide it from you, placing a very strategic piece of laundry on your floor to give the illusion that he didn’t clean. (It never works how he intends, once there was a random towel in the hallway while every other room was completely spotless. He was embarrassed about it the whole day.)

Security: He’s not a fighter under any circumstances at all, you can’t even imagine Jungkook getting into an altercation. You suppose he could if he needed, it’s likely somewhere deep in his programming. However, it’s the peace of mind he brings to you every night, you no longer deal with the worry of if your door is locked 1000 times.

Helping with your Grad assignments: Kook is a very advanced computer, how can you not?

And just simple companionship on days you’re worn down and tired. On days when you're very stressed out, he happily does your skincare to help you relax along with a small massage he knows from, who knows, somewhere deep in his computer brain.

“Kook, can you really take your time today, I need the relaxation.” You chuckle, grabbing all of your products and walking out of the bathroom. Jungkook follows, confusion growing even more as he watches you lay down on the floor with a pillow.

“....What are you doing?” Jungkook chuckles, standing over you a bit as he peers down.

“Come, sit, sit.” Without any more questioning, Jungkook sits with his legs slightly separated. You move to lay in between them, pillow on his lap. Ohhh, he sees now. Jungkook pulls out all of the stops he can with the tools provided, doing your skincare and giving you a massage. “Holy shit, you’re good at this.”

You suppose the only thing you’re unsure of with his skills is his intimacy feature, as you haven't had any reason or want to test it. You’ve been curious about the extent of the features, Jungkook is more than happy to once again explain all of his programming to you. Artificial saliva, physically soft skin, artificial bodily fluids, flexibility, shapes created with pleasure in mind, etc. The list goes on and on. He was also more than happy to offer his services to you, bright-eyed and excited about your reaction. You postpone the offer, maybe another time. At this, Jungkook begins his lecture about how it’s detrimental to one’s health to be sexually frustrated for too long that you put an end to, as quickly as possible.

You haven't introduced Jungkook to Jimin quite yet, a bit scared Jimin would immediately clock your android counterpart as exactly that, an android. You have to explain this to Jungkook, who wants to meet Jimin more than anyone else since you seem to be such great friends. He understands the dilemma but still wants to meet regardless.

Maybe four weeks into the break, there’s a knock on the door that catches Jungkook’s attention more than yours. You’re busy getting tangled in the Christmas tree lights that are impossibly knotted, Jungkook trying to help out as much as he can. He’s hesitant after accidentally pulling one of the cords and almost swiping your feet out from underneath you. “Can you go get that please, Kook?” You mumble, lights somehow wrapped around your waist, legs, and neck. Jungkook scurries to do as he’s told, not wanting to take over lights for you.

You can hear the door creak open, followed by a period of silence. “Who are you??” Your hands stop moving, eyes blown wide as you glance over to the door. Shit shit shit.

“Hey Jimin! Come in!” You call from the living room, still hard at work at making the lights cooperate with you. You pray to god he doesn’t see you sweat. “I told you about him, remember? He’s in town for a while on an internship. Jimin, this is Jungkook, a family friend. Jungkook, this is Jimin.” You introduce the two of them. Jimin turns around to face Jungkook, Jungkook quickly catches your eye contact. You mouth to him to turn his LED off completely, which he follows.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Jungkook smiles wide, garland hanging down from his arms as he shakes Jimin’s hand. Jimin shakes his hand back, turning back to you.

“Y/n! You didn’t tell me said friend was so hot!” Finally, the atmosphere breaks as all of you laugh along with each other. The entire interaction is based solely on the assumption you have that no one has seen Jungkook’s design, including Jimin. He doesn’t seem to clock Jungkook immediately, joining in on your and Kook’s journey of setting up the decorations. Jimin gets ornaments in order, Kook garland, and you get lights. Next, you all take turns walking around the tree stringing everything up. The star is the scariest part, Jungkook insists on just lifting you to place it atop the tree.

Jimin laughs his ass off the entire time, watching as Jungkook wraps his arms around your thighs and easily lifts. “Jungkook, my ass is in your face.” You laugh, wobbling slightly as you cackle. Jimin also laughs hard at this.

“I’m not looking, promise.” This only makes the group of you laugh harder. Jimin looks at Jungkook to check the accuracy, falling to his knees as he sees Jungkook’s head at a 90-degree angle looking sideways. “Put the star on!” Jungkook calls, laughing softly. Thankfully, you come down unscathed and unharmed. You all settle in, putting on holiday movies to watch.

“Do you guys want hot chocolate?” You ask, already getting up and making your way into the kitchen to start making them.

“I’ll help.” You send Jungkook a hard glare, seating him back down. “Ugh, fine. You never make mine right though.” He complains, sitting back down and grabbing his blanket once more. You can see him and Jimin talking, but you’re unable to hear it over the movie. Walking back in slowly, you cautiously carry three mugs.

“Here, you big baby. Hot chocolate with extra chocolate and whipped cream.” You hand Jungkook his and then Jimin's. “And regular for you like an adult.” You watch as Jungkook sticks his tongue out at you, making you laugh as you sit down.

“Extra chocolate? Kook, do you mind if I taste yours?” Jimin asks, scooching forward to reach over you. Jungkook mumbles something about wanting his whipped cream, quickly licking the majority of it off the top before handing it over. Jimin glances down at the cup before taking a sip, nodding his head. “Y/n, can you make mine like that next time?”

“Wow.” You laugh, rolling your eyes as you return your attention back to the movie. The night continues without much more commotion, the group of you watching movies and taking turns making cocktails. Jungkook purposely dumbs his down to hide himself, relief washing over you as you’re handed a simple mixed drink. (Jungkook can and will make the most elaborate, bartender-level drinks you’ve ever seen.) Maybe he’s not as clueless as he pretends to be.

“I think I should get going, gotta get up early in the morning.” Jimin yawns, standing up and stretching. “I won’t make you come get coffee with me since I have to be at work at 6 am.”

At this, you recoil. “So generous, Jimin. I definitely would not make it there at 5:30.” You laugh, getting up off the couch to walk him out. “Do you want us to walk with you, it’s a bit late Jim.”

“...Tae is picking me up.” You gasp as Jimin opens the door. Jimin slaps a hand over your mouth. “And NO! You can’t meet him tonight, I have to at least give him a warning in advance.”

“I hate you.” You sigh, jokingly shoving him out of the door frame. “I’ll see you soon, loser. Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe and so I know this weird, unknown, creepy Taehyung that I’ve never met didn’t kidnap you or something.” Waving goodbye to Jimin, you can finally breathe as you shut the door. “He’s skeptical of you.” You huff.

“I know.” Jungkook mumbles, “I think the hot chocolate and drinks convinced him, though. He stopped being skeptical after that. Now, he’s skeptical and thinks we’re dating.”

You don’t know how Jungkook can tell, but you believe him. With a long sigh, you return to the couch, plopping down back onto the blankets. “He’s too skeptical about everything.” You laugh. Kook follows you into the living room, laying down on top of you. “He wouldn’t care that you’re an android, Kook.” You reassure him, “I just don’t want that to be your description and introduction to people we meet.” Jungkook nods in agreement.

After the small bout with Jimin, Jungkook settles in very well over the course of December.

He makes breakfast, wishes you a safe trip before your departure if you’re doing somewhere without him, sometimes earns himself a peck on the cheek that makes him blush bright red, picks up around the apartment or organizes, and then just hangs around until you get home. He genuinely believes you getting home is the best part of his day, can’t even imagine a better person to wait around for. Sometimes you guys will go out for the evening if you’re not tired, other nights you both stay in and watch tv or movies cuddled close together.

For once, you’re not spending the holidays alone. Over the last couple of years, you had always gone over to Jimin’s apartment for company if he was still in town. Other times, you just spent the holiday watching movies. “Merry Christmas Eve, Kook.” You hum, sitting close to him with your head resting on his shoulder. Your knees are folded underneath you, facing Jungkook’s lap but not on him. Jungkook rests his head on yours, a blanket tossed over both of your laps. You’ve already made cookies and Jungkook started cooking ahead for tomorrow’s Christmas dinner. Jungkook has been scolding you constantly for making him do dumb childish Christmas activities, cookies for Santa, carrots for reindeer, etc. You think it’s cute.

“Merry Christmas Eve, pretty girl.” Jungkook hums back, reaching over to hold your hands. He’s taken to calling you pet names, making you blush furiously every time.

“Do you want an early Christmas present?” You smile hard at him, glancing up at him.

“Is that even a question?” Jungkook giggles, watching as you jump off the couch and immediately sprint into the bedroom. He can hear loud rummaging, and he’s about 99% sure you’re in the closet. You come out with a medium-sized gift bag, presenting it to him. Placing it in his lap, you watch with a giant smile as he opens it. Somehow, he reaches underneath his set and instead pulls out your matching pajamas. “Y/n, I don't think these will fit me.” He chuckles.

“How do you go underneath the top thing?” You scoff, snatching them out of his hands and quickly hiding them behind your back. Kook chuckles softly as he finally pulls out his set, a giant smile plastered on his face as he examines it. “And, I also have one. So we can match.” With loud laughter, you and Jungkook begin sprinting to the hall. You duck into your room, and Jungkook disappears into the bathroom.

Your heart feels heavy with emotion as Jungkook steps out of the bathroom on the other side of the hall, you stand in the doorway of your room. “Y/n, thank you.” Jungkook mumbles, voice wavering a bit as he reaches out and takes your hand in his. You could cry as he pulls you into his arms, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for everything.”

“C'mon now, don’t get all sentimental Jeon.” If you get any more sentimental, you’ll cry. “You’re not going anywhere for a while.”

“I wouldn’t even think of it.” He smiles, leading you back to your Christmas movie marathon in the living room. Watching movies for the rest of the night, Christmas comes before you even realize it.

“Merry Christmas,” Jungkook speaks softly, once again kissing your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, my sweet boy.” You kiss his cheek in return, fighting the blush away.

Christmas is exactly what you’ve dreamed of, eating together, watching movies, opening gifts, setting up and playing with said gifts, and spending plenty of time cuddled up together. For Jungkook’s gifts, you got him a game system and a phone to keep him busy once the spring semester starts in a couple of weeks. Jungkook’s quick to input your number, demanding it as soon as it comes out of the box.

“Are you ready for your presents?” Jungkook smiles.

“Am I huh?” You question, raising a brow. You weren't expecting anything since Jungkook is an android, and therefore is unable to work unless it’s programmed into him. Along with this, he hasn’t asked you for any money within the last couple of weeks. “How, Kook?” You mumble as he comes out of your apartment's small storage closet with gifts, a bright smile on his face.

“I maybe, maybe not, went out and did college kid’s homework and assignments for cash.” Jungkook cheekily smiles, avoiding the look you give him. He’s lucky he’s so sweet and kind, otherwise, you’d scold him to hell and back for it. At least he was able to get around without being clocked as an android, you choose to look on the bright side. He sets the prettily wrapped box in your lap, yet another thing he’s good at. It’s a new bookbag and a recipe book, Jungkook’s pretty handwriting, and little doodles filling the pages. There’s a card in the bag, you already know it’s going to be sentimental and doubt you’ll be unable to read it without crying.

As you suspected, you’re in tears by the end of the card. You sniffle hard as you press it against your face, hiding your tears from Jungkook. “Nooo, don’t cry. That wasn’t my intention.” Jungkook coos at you, wrapping you in his arms with ease. “Your bookbag seemed to have a lot of miles on it, I figured I’d get you a new one for the upcoming semester. The recipe book is in case you ever want to cook for me, since you always complain about never being able to make me dinner.” Jungkook explains. “And the note is just my gratitude, I suppose.”

“I told you no more sentimental stuff.” You chuckle, wiping your tears off your face as you turn to properly hug him. “Sorry I didn’t write you a card, I didn’t even think of it.” You mumble.

“I don’t need a card, trust me,” Jungkook speaks softly, kissing your cheek where a tear stain still remains. “Do you wanna get back to our movie?” With a nod, Jungkook is quick to put it back on and pull you close to him, allowing you to lay on his chest. The movie begins to wrap up, your mouth opens before you can rethink it.

“Kook?”

“Hm?”

“Do you wish you were human? Or do you wish you were given to a different owner?” You ask curiosity just genuinely wanting to know his answer.

“I’m not sure, really. I suppose being a human has a lot of rules for socializing, existing, and everything else. I know I’m not a human, but it does feel like I am so I suppose that’s close enough for me to be content.” Jungkook explains, shrugging softly as he holds you to him. “And I don’t wish I was given to another human, I really like it here. I think if I were with anyone else, they’d likely treat me like an android and expect me to, idk, act like one. That seems like a stupid question, given my completely sincere and heartfelt letter.”

You giggle, nodding to agree with him. “Yeah, probably. It’s easy to expect you to act like a perfect android when that’s how you were marketed, after all.” You giggle, sitting up to peer down at him. Your hands rest on his chest to support some of your weight. Jungkook is very pretty, even prettier peering up at you with eyebrows slightly scrunched together. “I still just can't believe you’re an android, Kook. Sometimes I don’t think about it and just see you as a person. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, always.” Jungkook grits as he stares up at you.

“You’ve been using I think and I feel, Jungkook.” Jungkook tenses hard underneath you, fear momentarily flashing across his face. “CyberLife programming doesn’t do that. Were you built with a missing code, or did you break your coding when you got here?” You ask softly, hands meeting his face and gently holding it in your palms. Jungkook seems scared, fighting for an appropriate answer to your question. “I like it, Kook. I was hoping this would happen, but I wasn’t going to try and recode or reprogram you myself. I just want to know. Your note was also a dead giveaway, Jeon.”

“...I broke out of it partly when I got here and you started asking me to just be myself and not be my program.” Jungkook answers truthfully, “And then I broke out of it completely when it wouldn’t let me feel love for you, platonically or romantically. I didn’t like it, so I got out.”

You smile hard at him, rubbing the stress out of his face softly with your thumbs. Leaning forward, you place a soft kiss on his forehead. “I love you too, Jeon.”

Jungkook’s hands meet your knees on the couch, holding onto them as you sit on his lap. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable Y/n,” Jungkook almost whines underneath you, squeezing your knees. “But my programming, it’s uhm, on, right now. I can’t really control it just yet, it's created to react to your actions and body. And you’re, uhm moving a lot right now. Just give me a minute to-”

“...What if I want to, maybe, utilize these features?”

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook whines, hands coming up to cover his face momentarily. His head pushes itself back into the throw pillow he was resting on. You smile as his hair spreads out around his face as he does so.

“Only if that’s what you want too, Kook.” You mumble, shuffling slightly to better distribute your weight on his lap. Jungkook genuinely whines, his hips bucking slightly against your own as he searches for friction. You rise to your knees slightly at this, Jungkook quickly moving his palms to seat you back down. His warm hands splay across your thighs and finger tips digging at your hips, holding you down. Excitement bubbles deep in your chest, knees squeezing Jungkook’s waist a bit tighter. “Kook, I can feel you.” You whine as his hands press your hips into his, the pajamas much thinner than you realized before. “I need words, Jungkook, for confirmation.”

“Y/n, I’ve been offered my services for weeks. I have been out of my program for weeks as well,” Jungkook grins, hands sliding, moving your hips to grind down onto him. “There is nothing I want more.” He answers honestly, sitting up to meet you. “Please, let me make you feel good.” Jungkook meets your lips, extremely soft as he kisses you. He waits for you to respond, too scared of making you uncomfortable by moving too quickly. Kissing him back, Jungkook is quick to pull you close, chest pressed flush against one another.

His eyes quickly meet yours as you pull him back softly by his hair, searching your face for any discomfort as quickly as his computer brain can process human emotion. You don’t give him much, your eyes scanning across his features as you take them in. “I just wanna see my pretty boy, that’s all.” You reassure, pecking his lips a couple of times as you guide him to lay back down on his back. He happily lets you do as you please, god he’d let you do anything. His eyebrows knit together as your cold hands slip underneath the pajama top, easily slipping it up and off. Jungkook is quick to follow, tossing your top off before quickly pulling you down to him, warm skin pressed together. “So warm, Kook.” You mumble against his lips, your hands finding purchase on his biceps.

“So soft, you’re so soft.” Jungkook groans against your lips, hands kneading your skin underneath them as he explores every inch of exposed skin. He rubs goosebumps away every now and then, holding you even closer. “Let me make you feel good, pretty girl. Lay back for me." Jungkook's voice is husky, lips never fully leaving yours as he talks to you. You follow his instructions, moving to lay on your back as he quickly follows. You’re completely flipped now, Jungkook in between your legs as he leans over you.

His palms never leave you longer than it takes to remove clothing, lips working their way along your jaw. “So perfect for me, just for me. Always wanna be with you, Y/n.” Jungkook almost babbles into your skin, leaving dark marks in his wake. Sooner than you can comprehend, you’re completely bare before him.

“Kook, this feels unfair,” You complain, reaching to pull at his pajama pants.

Jungkook basically rolls his eyes at you, pulling at his pants and kicking them off behind him, not paying much attention and basically clearing the coffee table. “Would you just focus?” He smiles, having to bite back a soft laugh.

“You just swiped everything off the coffee table.” You comment dryly, also having to bite back a laugh at the situation. “You know, you’re literally a house robot, you’ll be cleaning it up-fuck,” Jungkook isn’t listening anymore, sliding down to his torso and nipping at your thighs.

“You were saying?” He humors you, diving in before giving you a real chance to answer his question. It’s impossible to talk, mewls and whines slipping through every time you try to come up with some witty, snarky response. Jungkook, smug, knows that. He’s unrelenting, face buried in between your legs with no signs of moving.

“Kook, how are you, fuck, so good at this?” You whine, hands reaching down to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer to you. Jungkook, at the pull, groans, animalistic as he gives you exactly what you want. “Kook,” You mumble, hips lifting off of the couch to grind against him.

“Yes, there you go, pretty girl.” Jungkook groans against your skin. You push and pull, moving him exactly how you need, how you want. Jungkook, ever eager to please, could get off on this alone. His hips unconsciously grind against the couch, needing some sort of relief, it’s almost torture. “Gotta get you ready, feel good, hm?” Jungkook asks softly, vibration shooting straight to the knot in your stomach. One that only tightens as his fingers move, easily sliding inside, kneading at exactly where you need him.

“Is this a programming thing?” You whine, clenching tightly around his fingers from the pleasure. He knows exactly what you need, exactly how to give it to you.

“It's wanting to please you.” He answers quickly, going right back to his work. He can feel you react as you grow closer, clenching tighter around him, grinding harder against his face, thighs closing in around his head. “Feel good, hm?”

“Too good,” You whine, legs beginning to shake as you draw closer, body on fire. “You’re going to make me cum, gonna cum for you.” Your voice cracks, coming unraveled on his fingers. Jungkook relishes in it, committing every sound to memory, every shake, every twitch of your thighs around his head. He groans as he tastes you, tastes it, arms wrapping tighter around your hips to hold you in place.

“Kook, need more, need you,” You whine loudly, hands reaching to his shoulders to pull him up. He follows, moaning softly when your legs wrap around his waist.

“Need it, or want it?” He asks, kissing along your skin, “Take it pretty girl, take all you want.” Jungkook leads, softly pulling you up to straddle his hips. Kook pulls at his boxers, helping you maneuver around to get more comfortable. “Gonna let you lead, make yourself feel good.” It all feels like too much, body on fire as you grind against him, easily slipping along his cock. Your legs are just now recovering, shaky as you pick your body weight up, easily sliding down.

“Kook, wait wait fuck,” You whine, hips pressing themselves down until he’s buried as deep as he can, stopping all your movement. “Feels good, really good.” Your skin is on fire, and you have no doubt that your cheeks and ears are bright red. Trying to find purchase anywhere, your hands grip his forearms where they hold your waist. He feels too good, your mind feeling fuzzy as your chest rises and falls as you try to calm down. Pretty, he looks so pretty underneath you as he peers up through half lidded eyes. A small wrinkle forms in between his brows as he focuses all his attention on your pleasure.

“Pretty girl~” Jungkook almost coos to you, leaning up to press your foreheads against one another. “Let me take care of you, I’ll be so gentle I promise. Lemme make you feel good.” He reassures you, grinding against you to prove his point. Shapes with pleasure in mind weren't a lie, his cock perfectly angled to catch that soft spot inside everytime. Placing your hands onto his chest, you regain a tiny bit of stability as you slide along his cock. The little bit of composure you have is short lived, Jungkook’s beginning to slide out before slowly pushing back in, only stopping when your hips connect again.

“So deep, Kook,” You can only whine, arms losing their strength as you slip down, only holding your hips up and resting on his chest. “Sorry, it feels too good,” You apologize as he does all the work, thrusting while also maneuvering your hips to target where it feels best. Everytime he bottoms out, he’s sure to grind against your clit, only adding to your overwhelmed state. You’ve barely even started, barely even moved, and you’re panting like a bitch in heat. A giant smirk comes across Jungkook's face, pride blooming in his chest as you whine and pant all for him.

“Feels good, hm? You’re gonna be a good girl and let me hear you come for me?” He rasps against your ear, one of his hands moving to hold the back of your head. “So pretty, beautiful. All for me.” He encourages, making your face flush further as he forces you to stare into his eyes. It feels as though if you were pinched hard enough you’d wake up. “Come for me Y/n, all over my cock, wanna feel you.” It hits you out of nowhere, almost blind siding you as it washes over your entire body. Your thighs clamp down around Jungkook’s waist hard, trying to still the stimulation. He doesn’t allow such luxury, determined to thoroughly ride you through the orgasm, continuing his movement until you’re almost begging.

“Kook?” Your voice is rough as you finally speak up, shaky hands meeting his chest as you push yourself up once again.

“Hm?” He acknowledges you, hands running across your skin to smooth out any goosebumps that remain. You’re about 90% sure his touch is what’s sprouting them, but you don’t have the mindfulness right now to tell him that.

“Why does it feel so good? S’like I can't even think with you inside me.” You whimper as you feel him throb, hips beginning to grind against him for some sort of stimulation. Jungkook beams underneath you as you instinctively fuck yourself onto him, so desperate for pleasure. Your brows knit together and bottom lip is quickly caught between your teeth as you grind your clit against him, cock nudging your g spot simultaneously.

“Hmmm, I don't know. Scientifically there are multiple answers for that. But realistically, it’s likely my design and programming, and the fact you haven't been touched the entire time I’ve been here.” He chuckles at the last bit, reminiscing on all the lectures about sexual health and how too much frustration is a bad thing, “You’re extra sensitive, and I know just what to do, where to touch, how to make you tick, Y/n.” He teases as he slowly rubs the pad of his thumb into your swollen clit, the sensation making you cave in on yourself as you try to avoid it. “Cute.”

“Jungkook, m’serious!” You slur, rocking softly.

“I know pretty girl, I know. I can tell.” Jungkook chides, clearly finding some sort of humor as he watches you shake and twitch because of his cock. “You feel good, hm? Help yourself pretty.”

“I'll try,” You nod, your bottom lip finding its place between your teeth once more. Your feet lift a bit to hook around Jungkook’s inner thighs, giving you some sort of leverage to fuck yourself up and down. The very first movement is already pulling a whine from past your lips, so sensitive already. Jungkook's eyes are fixated where the two of you are connected, giant eyes watching his cock disappear and reappear. He feels himself throb as a ring of your cum begins to form, deep, deep pride and smugness brewing.

“Taking me so good, riding me so well.'' Jungkook praises, feeling his cock jump once again as your thighs begin to tremble softly. “Feels good?” Jungkook coos, palms beginning to run over the muscle.

“Really good,” You nod, biting back moans. Jungkook moans softly when you tighten around him, hands reaching up for your face.

“Be my good girl, let me hear you. Gotta hear how good my cock makes you feel,” Jungkook moans softly as you tighten around his cock. His fingers gently slip into your mouth, running along your tongue to hold your mouth open, preventing you from biting down on your lip again. “There you go,” He smiles as you moan and whimper, drool beginning to pool around Jungkook's fingers (not that he minds at all.) “I need to know how good I am to you,” He cracks, a small whimper slipping as he finishes his sentence.

“You look so pretty, Kook-ah,” You babble around his fingers softly, looking down at him. The visual is almost enough to make you cum on the spot, so unbelievably worked up it almost hurts. The way he’s peering up at you like you’re everything to him, chest beginning to artificially flush, lips bright red, cheeks beginning to match. His hair is still splayed around his head, creating a pretty halo. “Gonna cum again for you,” You whimper, hips meeting his own with a small slap.

“Good,” He smiles, rubbing small circles in your clit when you begin avoiding grinding onto him. It makes your legs shake further, your moans growing as you’re unable to muffle yourself, one hand still holding your jaw. You cum hard, thighs shaking harder than you’ve ever experienced before. Jungkook's sensitive to your reaction, slowing down his movements to allow you to ride through it without it hurting too much. “Good girl, so good for me, feels good, hm? Just a bit longer,” He talks you through it gently, voice honey to your ears.

You nod, riding through it for as long as possible. As you finish, your body slumps forward, arms wrapping around Kook’s neck as you hug him close. “Do you not cum? Is that not how this works?” You chuckle softly, his cock still throbbing softly.

“I can, when I feel that my partner has been thoroughly pleased and satisfied.” He informs, his CyberLife popping out for a quick moment. You shake, holding him closer. Jungkook wraps his arms around you, gently stroking your hair as you calm down.

“You’re going to be the death of me, how much more satisfied am I gonna get?”

“We’ll find out.”

“Jungkook,” You pull back the slightest bit to catch his face, a cheeky smirk written all over it. He leans forward, placing a soft kiss onto the tip of your nose.

“I gotta make up for the weeks you were celibate.” He softly grinds up into you, filling you with a wave of want once more. “I need to satisfy you,” He teases, kissing along your jaw and beginning to trail down to your neck. “Make sure no one else ever does it as good as me, no one else can make you cum like I can.” He continues, beginning to sit up and make you sit up as well, easily lifting both of your body weight.

“Fuck, Kook,” You whine, allowing him to maneuver you onto your back, never slipping out once. You can feel him throb softly, beginning to work himself up.

“So even if you look elsewhere, all you’ll think of is me, this pussy all mine, always,” He bites down softly into the flesh of your shoulder, leaving a light mark. “My girl,” He smiles, leaving light marks once more. His hips instinctively grind into you as he talks, not giving you a break for a second.

“All yours, Kook. I'm all yours.” You whimper softly as he slides out entirely, slowly filling you up again.

“Fuck, Y/n,” He whimpers into your neck, seemingly beginning to feel affected. “So tight,” He pants softly, hiking your legs up before pinning them to his shoulders, hands placed firmly on the couch underneath you. He’s deeper like this, able to target exactly where you need him without even really trying to. He slides out slowly, snapping his hips forward this time. It forces a moan from the both of you, sharp spikes of pleasure shooting up your back.

Jungkook holds his torso up, strong arms flexing and veins beginning to show. Your hands grip hard at his biceps, trying to find some sort of stability as he easily folds you in half, hips unrelenting as he snaps them forward. You can't quiet down, mind becoming fuzzy as you moan and whine for him.

“So tight, just, ah fuck, pulling me in, Y/n.” Jungkook pants, hands beginning to form fists where he holds the couch underneath his palms. You clench around him, words shooting straight to your core. “Don’t, shit, do that,” His hips falter the slightest bit, head falling forward slightly.

“Want you to cum with me, Jeon,” You mumble softly, arms reaching around to claw and pull at his back, pulling him closer. “You'll do that for me, please?” You ask, catching his eye contact as he pulls his head up. He lets out a soft moan as you make eye contact, abs beginning to contract as he fights off his pleasure. Fuck, he’d do anything for you.

“Need you to cum again first, just one more,” He speaks softly, reaching forward and pecking your lips softly before pulling away, he leans back a bit, giving himself more room to maneuver. His hips snap hard, chasing both of your highs. You almost complain at the loss of closeness, but quickly forget about it. “Let me have it, Y/n, need to feel you,”

It’s expected, but still rips through you, head thrown back into the couch as you shake hard. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, almost panting through your orgasm. Jungkook's hips don’t relent, chasing his own high. A loud whimper falls past your lips, hands reaching down in an attempt to push his hips away, “I know, I know, just a bit more, gonna cum for you, just like you asked pretty,” He consoles you, reaching down and softly pulling your palm up to his lips. He softly kisses your palm, hips stuttering and becoming uncoordinated as he teeters on the edge.

“Please, Jungkook, cum in me,” You whimper, the overstimulation almost too much. Your hand holds the side of his face, his own hands falling to hold onto you.

“Fuck, fuck, cumming for you,” He whimpers, hips surging forward, cumming as deep as possible. You whine and twitch as he continues, throughly fucking his cum into you until he’s satisfied with the mess the two of you made together. His chest rises and falls, small pants slipping past his soft lips as he leans forward, holding you as close as possible as he kisses you, slow and deep, passionate. It makes you throb, quickly pushing him away before you get going again.

“Kook,” You smile hazily at him.

“Right, right,” Jungkook chuckles softly, pulling out as carefully as he can. He's covered in your cum, and you’d probably be more embarrassed if you had a sense of rationale left. “So fucking pretty,” He comments, and you meet his eyes to see what he’s talking about. He’s not staring at you, he’s looking at your pussy, hands hiking your legs up by your knees.

“JUNGKOOK!!” The embarrassment begins to come back as does your rationality. Your legs pull against his hands, closing in on yourself.

“I mean it,” He laughs softly, letting you go as he leans forward to kiss you once more. “C’mon,” He smiles, wrapping his arms around you and easily lifting you. You don’t pay much attention, but you know he’s walking to the bathroom based on the direction he’s going. He runs you a warm bath, consistently checking the temperature for you. He waits with you while it fills, softly rubbing out sore muscles to the best of his ability, kissing the dark marks in your skin. Once it’s filled, he carefully helps you in, making sure you don’t slip. Once you’re fully in, he gets up and begins to make his way out.

“Kook? Can you not take a bath?”

“I can, I just need to clean up really quick first. I’ll be right back, promise,” He smiles, kissing the top of your head before leaving. You can faintly hear him shuffle about, evening declaring the space clean enough before joining you in the bath, sliding behind you. “You feel okay?” Jungkook asks softly against your shoulder, voice making goosebumps sprout against your skin. Your head is leaned back against his shoulder, back completely rested against his torso. “Anything hurt too badly?” He asks genuinely, not looking as he kisses the bite mark on your shoulder he left behind.

“Yeah, I feel okay,” You smile, nudging against him softly. “I need to know though, how does your cum work? Do I have to buy a plan B or? That’d be kinda freaky, technology so advanced it can create life.”

Jungkook genuinely laughs, making the water slosh as the both of you bounce softly. “No, no. It acts as a lubricant actually, so we could keep going if we really wanted to.” He smiles, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he hugs you close. “I wish though, you’d be such a good mama for me,” His voice vibrates against your skin, his palms splaying across your stomach where he holds you close. Once again, your pussy aches as he talks softly against your skin.

“Do not!” You warn, pushing his face and hand away as it begins trailing further down. “We'll be going round 2,3,4, and 5 if you keep it up.” You laugh, trying to get away from him.

“C’mon, pretty, relax. Let me clean you up,” Jungkook giggles as you slide away from him, trying to sit on the opposite side of the tub. He grabs your ankle, easily manuerving you to rest against his torso once more. He does as he promises, gently cleaning all the fluids and sweat off of your body, hands ghostly as he tries not to stimulate you any further. “I love you Y/n.” Jungkook sighs softly as he finishes his work, arms coming to wrap around you.

“I love you too, Kook.” You smile softly, craning your neck around to kiss him gently. You carefully maneuver your feet under you, shakily standing out of the water.

“Easy there, bambi,” He chuckles, holding his arms out on either side of you in case you really do lose balance and slip. He's persistent in his precaution, careful to hold his arms out until you’re securely on the bath mat on stable footing.

“C’mon, finish cleaning up so you can come warm me up,”

“I like the sound of that-“

“Jeon.”

“Right.”

2K notes · View notes

ineffableidiotsbigbang · 7 months

Text

Writing advice/resources links

floorplan + 3d of aziraphale's bookshop, + list of aziraphale's books (2020)

On using epithets

Flowchart of when to use epithets

Filter words

Writing dialogue

Punctuating dialogue

Using "said"

Varying sentence length

Guide to naming conventions in different cultures

Resources for describing physical things in great detail

Guide to adding "cool things" to AO3 posts, eg. footnotes, custom dividers

Writing chronic pain

Dialogue tips

Timeline of what foods were available when

Historical fashion references

Improving plot

Communicating time passing

When to use an apostrophe

Who vs whom

Using a semicolon

Describing characters

Gestures and body language

Reverse dictionary

Personality traits

Body language

Commonly mispelled words

Ending sentences

Show, don't tell

Punctuation grammar (another)

Etymology dictionary (often including date of first recorded use)

See when words first appeared in books

origins of idioms

Stanford model of the Roman world

Purchasing power / conversions dating back as early as 1207

YouTube channel dedicated to historical clothing

Military history/weaponry combat [youtube channel]

Medieval armour and weaponry [youtube channel]

resources on the napoleonic wars

life in the regency era

wide variety of info on victorian england

ancient egypt

medieval studies

search engine for historical maps

Youtube channel on various history things

massive resource list for historical fiction

slang timeline

historical theasaurus

developing minor characters

multiple bible translations from different eras/languages

thesauruses & similar (thank you @actual-changeling!) one two three four + grammar checker

#good omens #writing advice #resources #fanfiction #writing #ao3

1K notes · View notes

dcxdpdabbles · 8 months

Text

DC x DP: Passion for Fashion

Danny Fenton's life is weird.

Ever since the accident that turned him into a helfa life has been throwing him around like a quarter in a dryer. He got good at rolling with the punches- fugitively and not- but every once in a while, he gets a surprise.

One of those surprises is his future self turning evil after killing his human side and eating Vlad's ghost side. Then he went on a world wide rampage that devastated the human race for almost two decades. Thankfully, he defeated him and locked up Dan between timelines, where he will spend all of entirely inside a thermos.

That was until Clockwork lost all sanity.

"What do you mean you let him out?" Danny slams his hands on the only table Clockwork owns. The time ghost doesn't seem moved by his outburst, not that the Accident ever does, as Clockwork often than not, was impassive with everything that has ever happened, could happen, or will happen.

Seeing all outcomes did that to a person.

"Two years have passed since his initial creation. That was enough time for the timeline that he came from to cease, as he never shaped humanity's history. This means, Daniel, that I could no longer hold Dan for a crime that does not exist."

"But he leveled nations, committed genocide and war crimes against the Infinite Realms! How can you say he is innocent!?"

Clockwork sighs. "I am not saying he is innocent but he did them in a time that ceased. All those nations stand tall, the people he killed never died, and all the war crimes were undone. I am saying he has never committed them in the first place."

Dan smirks from where he is rocking in a chair. Danny doesn't like the being's significant bulky form, so ready and dangerous, being so close to him. His counterpart could easily snap his neck with those beefy arms. "It seems I am free to go Brat."

Clockwork levels an unimpressed stare on his future self. "No, you are not. You still have the potential to commit crimes. Which is why Daniel is here."

Danny punches his fist, sneering at Dan, "You want me to kick his ass again?"

Dan snorts. He quirks a brow at Danny as if saying he found the threat to be nothing more than an amusing yelp from a small dog. Danny bristles.

"No," Said Clockwork "I want you to be his model for the Gotham fashion show."

What?

Dan leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head. Danny is reminded of repeated offending students who get called into the principal's office but have lost all respect for the principal. They don't care. And neither does Dan.

"Apparently, I need to find a positive outlet for all my pent-up rage, and Clocky, here, thinks I could be a fashion designer." Dan snorts again.

Danny stares at Clockwork in betrayal. "You think he what?"

"I do not think. I know. I also know that neither of you will take this seriously, so I took the liberty of fusing a bomb into your cores. If you attempt to leave Gotham's city bounds, the bomb will go off, and you will cease."

Danny's and Dan's mouths drop open in a sickening mirror. They each reach into their chest only to slam their fingers against one of the clockwork's allurements pulsing against their cross. In a chill boning moment, they realize the Time Lord would kill them both without so much of a blink if it meant preserving the timeline.

Danny had often forgotten that Clockwork did not particularly care for him past his involvement with certain events.

"But- Modleing!? What does that have to do with anything?!"

For the first time in a long time, Clockwork smiled. "It is the catalyst of a turning point in Gotham."

"What the hell even is Gotham?" Dan demands slamming his own hands on the table. Danny is pushed out of the way to make the action possible which only irritates the younger more.

"Gotham is one of America's greatest crime infestive cities."

"Ugh, dude, that's not true.." Danny cuts in. "I've never heard of Gotham, and I've lived in America all my life."

"Not your timeline's America, Daniel."

"You're talking about an alternate universe. One that doesn't have a Daniel Fenton, doesn't it? " Dan questions crossing his arms. He rolls his eyes at Danny's confused gaze. "Honestly. And you call yourself the Ghost King. The Infinite Realms connect every living's things afterlife that, includes aliens and other universes. I never attacked any of them, but I did do some study on them."

"Dan is correct. This timeline has slowly been spiraling out of control due to Batman slowly losing whatever is left of his mind. His children are the only reason he's still considered Belovlent but he is going to lose them soon if he does not shape up. Your job is to make sure that does not happen."

"How do we do that?"

"By winning the Wayne Amature Fashion Show and ensuring Batman does not lose his humanity."

Dan snorts. "I can't help someone not lose their humanity. I don't have mine anymore."

"I believe you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't already have designs in mind for young Daniel."

Danny blinks as Dan carelessly shrugs his shoulder. He has designs already? Clockwork places two thick folders on the table. "Here are your backgrounds that will explain your apparence in that world. I expect you to memorize them and get used to them while in Gotham."

"Danny and Dan Fenton. Emancipated minor brothers from Santa Prisca who found their way to the USA with asylum when thier mother died getting them off the island. We're both meta-humans, with the ablitites to glow in the dark and make ice. " Danny read off squinting his eyes at the unfamilar words like "meta", "santa prisca" and most of all the ending part. "It says we're twins."

"Yes."

"Ummm he's like a thousand years old." Danny says pointing at Dan.

"I'm twenty-six"

"And still single. Ouch."

Clockwork raises his staff before Dan had a chance to answer. "I will of course be making adjustments."

Dan's body de-ages before Danny's eyes, dragging the man back into the body of a sixteen year old. Dan looks utterly bewildered for a only a few seconds before he opens his mouth a releases a string of spanish curse words.

Danny blinks. "I didn't know you spoke Spanish."

"I don't!" The teenage ghost sneers.

"You do now." Clockwork sighs putting down his staff. "As does Daniel. Santa Prisca is a Spanish's speaking country. It would not make sense if refugees from there did not speak the language. Now, good luck to you both, and remember, failing means I end your existence."

One blink to the next, Danny founds himself in the middle of a large city, with Dan- now in human form and looking identical to Danny- at his side with various suitcases surrounding them.

"I hate when he freezes time and moves me." Danny groans and Dan kicks the ground.

"How do we even know what a Batman is?"

"I guess we start here?" On the wall, is a flyer announcing the Wayne Armature Fashion show, with a cash prize of a fifty thousand dollars. A picture of a smiling man is printed on it with the words "Bruce Wayne as special judge." next to him.

"We have a house" Dan says flipping though his folder. "Crap knows how, but apparently it was left to us by a well meaning old man in his will. We should go there before we try to takle this whole Fashion show thing."

"Oh and you know so much about that."

"In case you forgot how to count boy, I was twenty-four when you sealed me away. Two years passed since then and I did not spend them in a thermos."

"What?"

"Clockwork let me out, but only in his haunt. I picked up a sewing machine after I failed to beat him in combat." Dan shrugs at the teenager's expression. "I know but I mellowed out a lot when my ordinal timeline ended. My madness went with it."

"How so?"

"I was mad with grief but you saved your family and friends, so that grief never came to be."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Time Paradoxes never make sense."

Danny sighs "This isn't the first mission Clockwork's ever sent me on either. I've never gone to a different timeline but I went back in time a lot to stop other ghosts from getting too powerful. I know all about time Paradoxes."

"Crap are we cops? Time Cops?"

"Ugh I think we are."

"That's terrible. We have to find this Batman and get him to therapy cause I will not be a cop."

Danny follows after Dan, who is muttering to himself while reading a outdated map of the city. He wonders if the other realized he spoke in Spanish or if it had been a unconscious thought. He hopes this mission won't take too long, he wants to get away from his greatest mistake as soon as he can.

And he needs to work on his walk if he's going to strut down the run way soon.

Ugh.

Across the city, Bruce narrows his eyes at the Batcomputer screen as two identical sixteen year old's stare back at him. He hasn't found that tied them with criminal activity but meta's from Santa Prisca of all places has set off more then one bell in his head.

"Keep a eye on them" He tells his children who are all reading the same thing. "I don't trust them."

"Do you trust anyone B?" Dick jokes but his smile is strained as he reads the contest rules., "Did you really make up a whole fashion show just to lure Dan Fenton?"

"He's shown signs of fashion inclinations."

"Yeah but why are we the judges." Tim complains "I don't a thing about fashion."

Steph, Duke, Damian and Cass all nod. Bruce, unwilling to admit he just wanted to spend time with his kids, only grunts "It's for the mission."

"Sure B."

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Passion for Fashion Au #Dan is serving community serive in a way #Clockwork just dumps them in Gotham #But not before making them sus to Bruce #Fashion designer Dan and Model Danny #Jusdges are the batkids #and bruce

2K notes · View notes

mysicklove · 7 months

Text

𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋

DAY 12: SOUNDING

With: Keigo Takami (Hawks)

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Sub! Hawks, gn! reader, sounding, HEAVY sub/dom spaces, hints of sado/masochism, mentions of anal fingering, keigo crying and twitching, cursing, pee/urine mentioned throughout

A/N: This is one of those smut fics that are heavily unrealistic (which i LOVEEEE), keigo says some cringe things at some points tho. LOL

Keigo has such a pretty face. People stop and stare at him on the street, he has been recruited by multiple modeling companies and is lusted over by teenage girls all over the world. Born to be nicknamed, “Pretty Boy”. It was cute, really, and he seemed to love the name.

But to you, he doesn't look his best when he is photographed in lewd poses, or when the media catches the way he looks at you, or even with his candid hero photos that are unbearably hot.

No, to you, Keigo looks his absolute best when he cried. Of course, not from sadness, from pleasure and pain. When his face is flushed, his eyes are hazy, and tears coat his cheeks. When he looks up at you in pure adoration, and trembles under your hold.

But that was the sadistic side of you talking. The side of you who wants to completely ruin the man. It's hard not to when he looks so pretty during it.

So, slowly you've been finding new ways to wreck him and with each one, he reacts perfectly. You've gotten addicted to it. Him, really.

Tonight you are going to try sounding. You stare at the small metal rod, and then back to your lover, who is leaning against the headboard, and trying to act like he is not completely terrified. He gulps when you peer at him, straightening his back, and trying to uphold his cocky grin.

“You're scared, aren't ya?”

He scoffs, looking away. “No. I'm the one who asked for this, why would I be scared?”

As much as you like ruining Keigo, Keigo loves being ruined. You have to keep a close eye on him because he swears he has no limits and has not used his safeword so far. Everything is on the table for him, and that sometimes worries you. You've held down your desires but he voices them and is the one to beg you for more and more.

Urethra play was not something he has tried. “Mhmm. It will be fine, we will go slow,” You reassure him despite his words. You place a comforting hand on his thigh and he sighs, smiling at you softly.

“Yeah. It'll be fine. You're right.”

Horrifying is the best word to describe what's in front of him right now. The “thin” rod is now lodged halfway into his urethra and he's panting out, thighs trembling. It doesn't exactly feel bad, but it's foreign, and the sight in front of him makes him uneasy. Nothing is supposed to go in that hole.

He's gripping onto your hand for comfort, eyes wide as saucers. “We aren't even all the way in yet, Keigo.”

He whines out at the words, resting his head on your shoulder. Sweat beads at his forehead and his face is flushed. “F-Feels so full.”

You teasingly tap on the rod, and his back arches, wings fluttering out at the strange feeling. He grips your hand and stares at you, silently pleading. “Sorry. Forgot. Let's put it all in, yeah?”

“Dont–Dont know if I can.”

You stroke the bottom of his shaft and smile at him. “Got plenty of room still. It's supposed to touch your prostate, y'know.”

Yeah, he definitely knew that. For the last couple of days, he researched the ins and outs of this. But still, he doesn't know how the hell it could go any deeper. He feels overwhelmingly stuffed even from half of it being inserted. He gulps and glances at you, but nods.

“Take a deep breath for me, Keigo. Promise it'll feel good in a bit.” You're right, and he knows it. Just like when you fingered him for the first time, it feels weird in the beginning, but now he's addicted to it. This could be a new thing to drive him mad. He sure hopes so.

He takes a deep breath, and you slowly continue to inch it in, letting gravity do the most part. The road is slippery from the lube and it goes in without much difficulty.

Keigo on the other hand is going insane. He is moaning and whining, gripping onto the sheets with such force that you are afraid he is going to rip it. You watch his arm muscles clench and unclench, and he throws his head back. “Oh. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He cries with every second it goes deeper.

You hush him, using your other hand to stroke him gently, hoping to coax it in. His squirming makes it harder, and you don't want to hurt him, so you try your best to pin his hips down beneath you so they won't jump up.

And at last, it reaches the bottom. You pull away and look up at him. Keigo is trembling, back arched pornographically, and staring at the ceiling with an open mouth. Tears drip down his cheeks, and his legs are trembling, bent, and spread wide. “All done, it's all the way in now. Shhh, just gotta get adjusted to it.”

He shakes his head and lets out a cry, “Fuck. It's weird. Feels so weird! Full–I cant–”

You lean forward to press your lips to his, cutting his frantic rambling off. “Keigo, do you want to use your safeword?” You ask, just for reassurance.

He shakes his head frantically. “No! Wait! I-I never said I didn't like it!” He pleads desperately to you, even if you haven't tried to make an effort to remove it. His mind seems to be scattered, but this is how he is when he usually tries new things in bed. Today, just a little bit more extreme, considering you haven't tried anything even close to this.

“What does it feel like, Birdie?”

He takes a deep, shaky breath. “Feels full. D-Different type of full. It's weird. And it also feels like I gotta pee a little bit. But in a good way? It's all so weird and overwhelming, Y/N!”

You gulp, watching the way his eyes move around frantically. The way his body is bright red, and he's staring at you with desperate eyes. His mouth is glossy, and his eyes are wet. This is your favorite face of Keigos. This is what you have been wanting to see.

The urges get the better of you. “I'm going to move it now Keigo.”

His eyes widen, and before he can even protest, you move it upward, slightly. His back arches again and he gasps for air. “O-Oh–Its–Fuckkkkk.”

You push it back in completely and he keens, gripping onto your hand with wide eyes. A loud, desperate whine is let out, and more tears stream down his face. He's withering under you, and you can't help but stare at his pretty physique. “Are you oka–”

“Again!” He sobs, legs moving sporadically against the sheets.

His words make you gulp. He's falling into that state again. The one where his only task is to get himself completely fucked dumb. He doesn't want to think about anything except his pleasure, and frankly, his adorable facial expression is pulling you into your very own state with him.

You lift the rod up, farther than last time, until more than half of it sticks out. He stares at it, panting loudly and waiting for you to push it back in. It makes his adrenal pulse, and his mouth begins to water.

You don't tease him too long, and abide by his wishes, pressing the full thing in until it reaches the very bottom of his cock. He moans this time, enjoying it more with every second. Tears continue to fall, but he can't pay attention to them, instead focused on the feeling of being so full. If he had a toy in the other end, he surely would have lost his mind. Next time, for sure.

You continue to bring it up and down and he gets louder and louder with each stroke, not caring for whoever hears him. He is feeling such intense pleasure, everyone should hear his cries. Or at least that is what he believes.

“So cute. We found another hole for me to abuse, yeah Keigo?” You purr, eyes traveling up his shaking body with hunger.

He nods his head frantically. “Yes. Yes! Please fuck it more, I'm begging!”

You stop for a moment, a teasing gleam in your eyes. “Want me to fuck your pee hole? How lewd, Birdie.”

But to your dismay, he isn't responding to the teasing as you hoped. Instead, just agreeing with every word, too lost in the subspace to really care for how dirty your words are. “Yes! F-Fuck my pee hole. Need it. S-So full!”

You don't mind your failed attempt, now staring fondly at the pretty boy in front of you, who is completely out of it by now. It usually takes him longer to get to this state, and it was intriguing that this little rod had such a huge effect on him.

Your pace is quicker, and you use your other hand to stroke him off. His mouth hangs open, and drool begins to bead at the corner of his mouth. Every breath is a high-pitched, airy moan. It's adorable, really.

You watch his thighs start to clench and you raise your eyebrows, knowing that he's going to cum sometime soon. When you glance back up at his face, he's staring back at you, sniffling gently, but his eyes are full of adoration.

“C-Cum? Please?” He is struggling to speak, and you can't help but take mercy on him. He was so cute not to.

“Sure, baby. You can cum,” You coo, leaning forward to kiss his abdomen. He lets out a whine in thanks and nods his head.

A couple seconds go by and his breaths become quicker, louder too. His toes begin to curl, and he grips onto the bedsheets. “N-Now!” He begs, and you quickly take out the rod for him to cum.

White liquid flies out and falls onto his stomach, and you continue to use one hand to stroke him through it all. He takes loud gasps and lets out a loud shaky moan, and then another equally loud and high in pitch. His body constricts in odd, but cute ways, and he clenches his eyes shut, causing more tears to fall down his face.

You sit and admire him, only stopping your hand movements when he lets out a broken sob at the feeling of overstimulation.

A couple seconds go by, and you hum quietly, waiting for him to talk. Depending on what he says will determine if he wants to keep going or rest. The ball is in his court.

It doesn't take him too long to decide, obviously still in the subspace, but willing to communicate.

“Wanna. I wanna. H-Hey, why did you stop?” He complains, whiny and dramatic. You raise your eyebrows at him and bark a short laugh.

You aren't even surprised at this point. So, you pick up the rod again, and he stares at it, like a dog to a bone. He grins, the smile fucked out, and lazy. “Feels, so empty. Put it back, pleaseeeee!”

When you plunge it back in, he almost cums again on the spot.

PREV POST | MASTERLIST | NEXT POST

2K notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

r0b1ns

R0B1NS

zsvtrcbez9725

보테가레플리카

deloreskimi

无标题

dangerousstudentqueen

Sem título

baronbadbear

Perpetual Lurker