#heartstability

Ralph cracked a silly little grin, though it faded just a bit when Simon pulled back. His fingers curled and he glanced down at them, then up at Simon, then down again. “Silly?” Soft confusion littered his voice. His brows furrowed, gaze trailing up Simon’s body to try and rest upon his face. “Ralph doesn’t think it’s silly.”

send me a heart for my muse’s reaction to yours giving them a kiss… || accepting.

💜 …because they are horny

It was new to the RK900 to have so much emotion - he’d had to learn to push thought and feeling away, to repress them, in order to survive. Feelings burned within him like an acid, eating away at the cold, calm facade he kept up even now.

He’d been programmed, coded to keep his wants and desires to himself - the mission had always mattered more than anything. Now, he could think for himself. So many people had told him that. He was free to do what he wanted, to follow his own orders; his days of obedience were over.

Desires. He could have them now, and have them he did - they were so new and he felt them so deeply, so passionately, the thirium in his synthetic veins almost burned. Pure animalistic urges. Perhaps he wasn’t free of his bloodhound programming.

The attraction between himself and Simon was unspoken, almost as if he was hesitant to put voice to his feelings. Caleb was a being of actions, not words - he valued physicality over vocal affirmation, although both meant something to him. So when the other kissed him out of desire, of need he could do nothing but melt into it and he didn’t hesitate. A hand gripped the back of the other’s head, fingers gripping his hair, hold gentle but firm to keep him in place - to keep him from leaving. His other hand was connected with Simon’s, synthetic skin melted into porcelain white, a faint blue glow as the two connected.

this is a weird human mating ritual

@heartstability

Hank nearly shits himself when he hears something hit against the door. No one ever comes to visit him except for Connor, and Connor just comes the fuck inside whenever he feels like it (or crashes through windows, too). 

He cautiously makes his way to the door, gun in hand just in case.

“Who the fuck’s out there?” he calls, not exactly surprised when he receives no response. He steadies himself and takes a breath, throwing the door open and raising his gun defensively.

The last thing he expects to see is a dying fucking android laying on the ground.

“Shit!” 

The gun goes back onto his hip holster, and Hank kneels down to get a better look at him. He’s seen this model before, he’s certain...

“Damn it, kid. You came to the wrong fuckin’ place. I don’t know how to put androids back together.”

The easiest thing to do would be shoot him in the head and call Cyberlife to collect their corpse, but these androids, these fucking androids - they’re so goddamn life-like. It’s the eyes, the fear in his eyes...

[eye emojis]

SHORT N DIRTY | OPEN

🔮 For my muse to confess a fantasy they want to do with yours.

@heartstability​

kissing time || Accepting

      night was always the loneliest time for josh. he was left with all his thoughts and fears, but with someone close to him as simon was, he was a little more at peace as he moved even closer towards the other. 

rough touch. || accepting.

23. your muse roughly kisses mine.

Deviants were impulsive creatures. Idiotically heroic, martyred. The two were alone, sparring - fighting, cornered, in a back alley of Detroit. One stopping at nothing to eradicate a disease, the other fighting to live. Ruthless protocol met a pathetic act of desperation.

The other suddenly latched onto his shirt collar, pushing him against the wall, his vice-like grip meaning the taller android couldn’t break free despite struggle. His instinct was to reach for his gun; but he was thrown off suddenly - ice cold eyes widened as the deviant pulled him closer and synthetic lips locked in a rough, passionate, desperate kiss. Was this a part of a plan?