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#my life is going straight to hell and there's not a single person poised to help me

writefightandflightclub · 1 year

Note

AHHHHHH THE SANTI SOCCER PLAYER FIC!!! It was so good!! One of my favorite fics ive read in a while, thank you very much 💙💙

Imagine playing soccer with santi and the boys and absolutely kicking their asses. I feel like santi might feel a certain way 👀 just food for thought

Ah thank you so much! I’m super happy you enjoyed it 😊

Since I’m now so into this pairing I HAD to write a little blurb with your idea! Here you go! It’s set prior to the last one, earlier in their relationship.

Kick around: Santiago “Pope” Garcia x Masc!Soccer Player!Reader

Summary: Santi watches you run circles around his squad, and it makes him feel some kinda way.

Genre: fluff but Santi is a horny bastard (no smut, not explicit.) He soff! He dopey in love!

Reader: masc!reader, he/him pronouns. No anatomical / physical descriptions. Reader takes shirt off on pitch.

Author’s note: I ship these two so hard 🥹

Gif by @thewaythisis

You’re the hottest person to have ever existed.

Santi is sure of it.

He’d invited the whole squad along to your traditional Sunday morning kick-around. They’d been pestering him to meet you and this -you’d agreed- seemed like a fun and low pressure way to get to know them a little. While you’re in your element.

But, watching you run circles around every single one of them, is making him feel some kind of way.

It’s basically 5-a-side (well, four of them) versus you, and you are a fucking machine.

The breath saws in and out of his lungs as he watches Frankie attempt to pass the ball to Will as though he’s never met a soccer ball in his life, the shot clearly jarring his leg - a fact Frankie quickly attempts to gloss over.

He watches you dance around Will, basically teasing him far more than you need to with you fancy footwork. Will’s chest is heaving, his body lurching all over the place. You make every one of his highly trained operatives look cumbersome and tired, and meanwhile you’re not even out of breath. Haven’t broken a sweat. Have a gorgeous shit-eating grin on your face.

Santi is fit enough to keep up for a while longer at least, even if his soccer skills are lacklustre. He’s fine with that, honestly. He knows he has plenty of other skills - but the boys are actually competing with you as though it’s a matter of personal pride. As through they stand a chance.

Santi dips off to the side of the pitch to refuel with water and to calm his shaky legs, but in truth he’s just enjoying watching you. He enjoys showing you off. He enjoys the fact that you’re completely kicking their asses. He very much enjoys how hot you look as you do it too. How in control you look. How poised. You’re so fucking competent. The way your body looks as you run circles around them. Your 100-watt smile which he can see shining from all the way over here.

And finally, he watches you approach Benny, the last line of defence between you and the goal.

Benny is the only one that maybe has any kind of shot at besting you. He’s in shape. He’s spry. He’s an athlete.

No wait. He’s… calling a time-out? He’s grabbing some water. He’s taking his shirt off and… damn, you follow suit, and as Santi continues to sip on his water he has to be careful it doesn’t drool from the corner of his mouth at the sight of you.

Still, when Benny is ready, you resume, and he puts in a good effort but he has no hope in hell. You run rings around him. Leave him in the dust. His only hope is a completely dirty tackle, and Santi had already warned him what the consequences of that would be.

Still, the bastard does it anyway. Tries to grab you and swipe the ball from out under you. You stop dead still, putting your arms in the air and scolding the man. “This isn’t MMA, Benjamin.” Santi chuckles to himself. God, he loves that you fit right in. Like you’ve always been here. Like he’s always known you.

Then, you let Benny retake his position and you fleet straight past him, socking a sweet shot right into the top corner of the net with precision.

The boys all congregate now, Frankie folded in half and looking like he’s begging for an end to this torment. You pat him on the back and run to get him a towel and an isotonic drink, and Santi’s eyes crease with fondness as he watches you take care of and banter with his squad as though they are your own.

It’s one of the many things that can make him imagine you being in his life for a very long time, and the thought causes a sort of tranquility to wash over him.

Eventually, you peel of, nodding your head in the direction of Santi and beelining over towards where he casually leans up against a tree, doing that little footballer run to get over to him.

“Hiiiii,” he says dreamily, his pupils replaced by hearts, he’s sure, as he melts into a puddle.

You look amused. “Having fun, baby?”

Santi simply blinks, batting his long-lashes at you.

“Hiiiii,” he repeats, giving you the once-over with his eyes and evidently liking what he sees.

“Hi,” you laugh bashfully, the rich sound bobbing in your throat, and meanwhile Santi pushes up off the tree and shimmies closer. He places his hands at your hips, where shorts meet bare skin, and you have the good sense to clamp your hands over his, as though he’d be ballsy enough to strip you right here. “Do you think the guys are having fun?”

“I don’t know,” Santi purrs. “I’ve forgotten all their names. Faces. There’s only you.” A blatant heat is brewing in his eyes, and his gaze trails like fire over you.

You drop your voice lower in your throat. “Oh, you liked that did you? Watching me run circles around your friends? Showing me off?”

Santi smiles dopily at you. He’s got nothing.“Hiiiii,” he repeats, and you slide your hands from where they rest and loop them around his neck.

“Well. You can show me how much I impressed you later. For now, we have brunch.”

“Skip brunch,” Santi grunts, like a Neanderthal.

“Baby!” you eyes search his for sense. “I promised to get to know your friends. It’s important for us, right?”

The fact you’d do that for him? The fact you said us? It’s just one of the many things that makes Santiago want you in his life for a very, very long time.

One of the things; but there are so many more.

#santiago garcia x m!reader #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia x reader #mlm #triple frontier

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

Text

Draw your swords

Summary: In order to keep Ravka intact, general Kirgan, the Darkling, must marry. Needless to say, he’s not happy about it, but neither is his bride.

Warnings: indicating smut, slight angst

============================

Standing at the altar, wearing his black kefta, the Darkling grinds his teeth at the closed door at the end of it.

Any moment now, the door will open and his bride will appear as an angel in white. Except, the Darkling preferred to think of her as devil incarnate.

Although her beauty is without faults, her mind is sharp and her tongue can be sweeter than honey, Y/N Y/L/N is everything the Darkling hates.

She's entitled, bratty, arguably manipulative and downright cruel. She's all that and more, at least to him. But the one thing he cannot forgive her for is her lineage. As a daughter of a man he sought to destroy, Y/N became general Zlatan’s bargaining chip.

“You must marry her and she must be included in all decisions concerning Ravka on my behalf, or we will declare independence.”

General Zlatan gave the emperor no room to argue on the matter, forcing the marriage onto them. As the emperor had no male descendants to marry off, the next in line was general Kirigan. And while the Darkling fought the emperor on this instance, he was given no choice – either marry Zlatan’s daughter or someone else will be ascending as a leader of the Second army.

"Is it too late to run?" Ivan turns to Kirigan and Fedyor with a breathless chuckle, earning a dirty look from the official Y/N insisted marries them. She caved on the Palace setting, but no one could bend her will on who it is that seals their marriage contract.

"You promised." Fedyor reminds him and Kirigan closes his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Maybe some promises are best broken. She'll be the death of Ravka." Licking his lips, the Darkling glances at the door as a faint noise is heard on the other side of the door.

‘Of me’, he thinks to himself, ‘She’ll be the death of me.’

“She is Zlatan’s daughter with no special powers”, Ivan scoffs, “What could she possibly do?”

"I'll make her just as unhappy as I am now. She's never going to love me and I most certainly will never love her," the Darkling huffs, straightening his back as his eyes narrow at the door. “Unhappy women are always dangerous.” He pauses, pursing his lips, “Even if they are just human.”

"You said this is a business deal, so think of it as such." Ivan raises an eyebrow, wondering why is love even on Kirigan’s mind. In all his time serving his general, Ivan never heard the word pass his lips before now.

"I will”, the Darkling rolls his tongue, focusing on Ivan and Fedyor again. "Tell me you’d fight with me to preserve Ravka if I walk away."

"Do whatever you want, but you better be fast because your bride is coming", Fedyor nods toward the grand opening of the grandiose door, revealing a vision in white and the veil covering her face.

"Fuck", the Darkling mutters under his breath, his heart jumping at the sight.

He watched her walk, his nerves gnawing away at him and all he could think about is why his heart is beating so fast. Why would he be nervous? She should be the one drowning in nerves instead of walking so confidently. Why is she not afraid of him?

Folding his shaky hands behind his back, the Darkling could have sworn every step she took closer made his heart drop further in his chest. It was only a matter of time before he had nothing left but to accept his destiny and take an ordinary woman such as Y/N as his bride. Oddly enough, he found comfort in her mortality. She would die eventually and he’ll be free of her. If she angers him or her father stirs up trouble, he’d make sure he’ll be free much sooner.

Finally in front of him, Y/N holds her breath as the Darkling reluctantly pulls the veil up, revealing her face.

When she first met him, it was on a field of scattered, mangled bodies. He looked at the sky like a man would look at a withered flower in which he no longer sees the beauty he plucked it for, thus destroying it.

And when he looked at her, Y/N forgot to breathe.

There are no traces of doubt, no evidence this isn't the happiest day of her life. If anything, the Darkling is in awe of her and her ability to maintain composure without showing the slightest inkling of her disdain for him. He’s looking for a weakness, studying her in order to find something, anything he could use to make her submit to him, but she’s not flinching. Her stare is unyielding, fierce, and she is unbowed, like a rose in the eye of a hurricane.

"You should have worn the white kefta. Black is for funerals", she notes, her voice low and cold and the Darkling can't help but scoff.

“Black is my color. Besides”, he leans in, pressing his lips against her cheek before whispering, "It is a funeral."

While the crowd whispered and awed over the little exchange, Y/N's lips twitched into a brief smile. Reaching out for his hand, she tilts her head to her left, hiding her face with the veil as she scowls at him.

The ceremony begins, but neither the Darkling nor Y/N can truly focus on a single word said. Y/N is busy wondering what she could do best to make his life hell. This isn’t exactly what she had in mind for her future either and being exchanged like a broodmare to delay a war is unforgivable. She couldn’t forgive her father for giving her over to a known monster, nor could she forgive her seconds-to-be husband.

He is cruel, manipulative, a beast hidden under a handsome built and he may be appealing to the eye, but she can feel he’s rotten inside.

The Darkling’s eyes are fixed on her, examining every single inch of her rather small sized body. Though her curves are undeniable, her height would leave him with a craned neck and back pain in the future. Inhaling sharply, he tried to understand why his thoughts of all the things he hates about her include ripping that wedding dress straight off her. She looks far too appealing in a dress for him to ignore and it sparks a fire to further fuel the flames of hate he’s tended to.

Either way, quicker than imagined, the Darkling found himself saying "I do", forcing a smile that matched the one she displayed. Unlike his cold smile that didn't reach his eyes, Y/N was capable of making her smile believable, enough for him to envy her acting skills.

"You may kiss the bride."

Licking his lips, Kirigan's eyes flicker to Y/N's lips. He never kissed her before, the human who perfectly portrayed an ice queen. It would be a lie if he said kissing her never crossed his mind, but it didn't feel like he'd willingly do so even if he had a chance. He didn’t desire her at all. He refused to allow himself as much.

Y/N glanced at the crowd, seeing their little whispers about how long Kirigan is taking and how they pity her for marrying someone like him – a dark shadow, an abomination even in their world.

She felt a shuddered breath pass her lips as Kirigan leaned into her, torturously slow and the worst part? He smells good, intoxicating kind of good. And whether she liked it or not, her heart fluttered as his lips grazed hers and his hand cupped her cheek.

The Darkling's heart quivered, his mind overflowing with frustration. He couldn't comply and kiss her wholeheartedly, but he found himself wanting to turn her over, to have his way with her.

She's infuriating, unlawfully cocky and unjustly stunning. No wonder hell is where most mankind would go considering the beauty of its tempting demons that poise as naïve angels.

Snapping out of the daze, she pulls back first, whispering against his lips. "Hope you enjoyed it, because it will be the last time you’ll ever taste my lips in your lifetime."

Blinking slow, the Darkling smirked, genuinely entertained. "We will see about that", and he took her words as a personal challenge.

He would melt the ice queen and have her on her knees, begging for his love before the year is done. He will demean Zlatan by turning his own daughter against him and he will do so with pleasure.

Part two

#the darkling x reader #the darkling #shadow and bone #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #the darkling au #aleksander x reader #aleksander kirigan #kirigan x reader #the darkling fanfiction

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milfnearyou · 3 years

Text

𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.

“𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.4K | 𝐎𝐇 𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐔𝐍 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: ANGST. CHEATING. BETRAYAL. SUGGESTIVE. THATS PRETTY MUCH IT THIS TIME AROUND. NGL THIS ISN’T MY BEST WORK AND IS A SHORT ONE SHOT, SORRY! CLICK HEADER FOR HIGHER RESOLUTION BC TUMBLR IS STUPID.

VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

“So you just woke up one day and decided you loved me?!”

Your voice was painfully shrill, bouncing against the metal walls and echoing through the elevator shaft. If you hadn't been so furious, you would've cringed at the way you sounded. Considering your behaviour to be completely out of character and rather petty. But it was impossible to think straight. With all the sirens in your mind screaming 'Alert!' causing you to grow defensive. You saw everything as red, wrapped in a series of warning signs. Eager to protect yourself you grew aggressive, fury coursing through your veins and laced with disgust.

The disbelief was evident in your tone, accompanied by the extremely annoyed look plastered on your face. Your eyebrows were contorted together, lightly creasing your forehead as you anxiously chewed on your bottom lip. Your hands were balled into tight fists trembling at your sides as you fought the urge to beat the living crap out of him.

"Fucking answer me Sehun!" You exclaim, throwing your hands in the air. You didn't understand him, not taking any of his bullshit words seriously as a result. Had he been telling the truth, had he truly meant every word he said. Sehun wouldn't have just stood there in front of you with nothing to say. The silence he offered simply adding more fuel to the fire that raged inside of you.

"So now you're silent? You weren't this fucking quiet back when you were professing your so-called love to me?! What's gotten into you now?"

Again, nothing but silence. The tall man simply stands there in front of you with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants as the elevator continues to rise higher and higher. With every floor, the elevator cabinet passed, the angrier you got and it didn't help that you lived in a high rise apartment. If he continued to act this way you'd be fuming, steam emitting from your body by the time you'd reach your floor.

“Do you even know what it means to love someone? Or do you just throw yourself in any direction that proves beneficial to your selfish well being?” The questions flew past your lips one after another. You weren’t going to hold back either. Pushing yourself towards him, forcing him to explain himself.

You didn't deserve the silence. You deserved proper answers, ones that were absent from the immature man in front of you.

"Answer me right now or I swear to god I'm cutting you off forever," Warning him, you take a step forward to face him closer. Invading his personal space as you stare at him, craning your neck upwards with your arms crossed.

Watching him like a hawk, you attentively wait. Noticing how he seems to take a slight step back, his broad chest heaving up and down slowly. He seems to be nervous or perhaps, flustered? It was hard for you to believe that with all the ways he could've handled the situation this was what he opted for.

Step by step, you get closer and closer towards Sehun until he's got his back pressed against the metal walls of the elevator. It was hard to believe that someone who looked dominant most of the time could be so cowardly.

"I'm not asking again," You state, pressing your index finger roughly against his chest. Physically pushing him around until he's finally had enough. His large hands pressing against your shoulders as he shoves you back, regaining his confidence. Finally, he refutes, silence no longer being an option for him.

“Fuck off! Do you want an answer? Fine, but you don't have to act like such an invasive bitch about things!"

Stunned your eyes widen. You can't tell if you should be offended or impressed with just how much you pushed him but you let him speak. Not saying anything even though he had just called you a bitch.

"No, I didn’t just wake up one morning and decide that I’d fall in love with you! It took me countless days and nights, essentially adding up into months of thinking about nothing except you! Do you know how painful it felt for me? Do you not understand how guilty I felt?!” The tone in his voice is dangerously low as he narrows his eyes at you. It's his turn to match your attitude, fixing his posture and standing tall.

"Oh really? So you only thought about how you felt and not how I would feel knowing about your feelings for me? Sehun, how selfish can you be? You aren't the only person on this godforsaken planet!"

"You don't think I knew that? I know you wouldn't be happy with this but you have to understand that had I kept everything to myself and continued to hang out around you; it would've been both disrespectful to you but also incredibly torturous to me. It was worth gambling my feelings and confessing with the consequence of potentially losing a friend instead of hiding it."

Taken aback, you feel yourself pause and you hate yourself for it. Sehun has a point, he's valid for being upfront about things but there was just one thing that didn't sit right with you. Despite wanting an answer and getting it you curse yourself for falling silent. The hypocrisy of your silence hitting you square in the face but you're not done. You still have one more thing to say.

"What about the fact that you're still dating my best friend? Did you think about how much this would hurt her? No, let me guess, I bet you haven't even mentioned anything to her," Bringing your best friend up seemed to be the major thing standing in between both of you.

Sehun stares at you like he's been frozen in time. His features completely poised and monotone as your eyes scan his face for any sign of emotion. It was still much too hard to accept his words, to trust them and understand that it came from the bottom of his heart. Your anger was now replaced with complete confusion, perhaps even denial as you scoff at him. He was crazy to think you'd ditch your best friend for a man like him.

Sehun only stood there with his shoulders pushed back, his posture relaxed. His orange tufts of hair making him look like a complete clown. His current demeanour was very different in comparison to how defensive he was earlier.

How could he be so hot and cold? None of it made sense with his face being completely unreadable, everything felt bland like a black and white movie. Sehun could scream as much as he wanted but his words would never get through, bouncing behind the screen, staying unheard from the crowd. All these things made it impossible to find the sincerity he had in his words represented in his body language.

The elevator came to a stop with a rather loud ding notifying you that it had arrived on your floor. You take one last look at Sehun battling with yourself on whether or not someone as selfish as him was worth entangling yourself with. But no matter how you thought of it you couldn't accept him. With Sehun came consequences, ones that you weren't willing to risk getting into and that being losing your best friend. Someone who was there for you through thick and thin could never be replaced with a man you'd only known for roughly a year.

He didn't mean anything to you and he wasn't allowed to have any meaning in your life, it just wasn't okay. Betrayal had a greater impact than love, you would be foolish to accept the latter.

Leaving him behind, you step outside of the elevator. Realizing just how much more breathable the air outside the shaft was in comparison to being back inside holed up with your worst nightmare. Your moment of freedom is cut short when you feel his lean arms wrap around your waist pulling you back inside.

He's clinging onto you like a child refusing to let go as he rests his head next to your shoulder. His hot breath brushing against your neck, making you uncomfortable for many reasons that were quite obvious. He just wasn't single nor available and you couldn't let yourself be the other girl.

“Please just—take a chance. I'm willing to cross oceans for you, tear apart anything that stands in my way because I love you. I'll break up with her, she's nothing like you. Why can't you see that I love you?” He rambles, his voice falling soft. Sehun sounds like he's about to fall apart as he speaks into the crook of your neck.

His voice vibrating against your skin, echoing through your mind. Despite his tone being no louder than a whisper, his message came loud and clear. Slowly his plump, soft lips make contact with your skin as you freeze in place watching as the elevator doors slam shut. Moving downwards again you feel like you're slowly descending to hell.

His actions gave you goosebumps as he peppered kisses against your neck. Using one hand to grasp your waist, holding you close to him. While the other cupped your cheek, tilting your head slightly so he could gain better access to your body, his kisses moving down south and landing onto your shoulder. Pushing your shirt slightly aside before gently biting down on your skin causing you to gasp.

Sehun's touch was electrifying and almost hypnotizing, you felt yourself growing dizzy and out of touch with your surrounding. As he continued using his lips to convey how much you meant to him against your screaming mind that yelled at you not to do this to your best friend. But like a fool, you melt into his touch. Lips falling apart, as your chest heaves up and down. The air feels intoxicating as he rotates your head towards him. His lips crashing against yours as you feel like you're about to pass out.

You can't give in, you can't betray your best friend and yet, you feel yourself kissing him back. Your tongue tangling with his, exchanging dirty, secretive kisses. Turning around to face him better you fall into all the places you knew weren't right and that was right into the arms of Sehun's. Intertwining your fingers with his, holding onto him tightly as if the only chance you'd have with him would be taken away.

Now you knew what it meant to be selfish and just how delicious it tasted.

The elevator is filled with the lewd, smacking of the shared kisses between you both. His body grinding into yours as you feel yourself growing heavy. Developing a strong heartbeat where your filthy desires lay. You felt yourself growing wet, shifting your thighs uncomfortably together. Feeling his hand snake down towards the waistline of your skirt, tugging on them.

"You just have to say the word and I'm dropping everything and everyone for you," He says in between kisses as you tilt your head back in pleasure when you feel his fingers slipping past your skirt. Hovering dangerously over your soaked heat. "Do you want to run away with me?" He asks.

You want to say yes. Your body having a mind of its own would rather speak for you but you just can't bring yourself to go through with it. The image of your best friend is hung up in your mind and even though the damage has already been done, you still don't think it's too late to stop.

“I can’t and you know I won’t,” You reply, wincing at how your voice cracks. You didn’t want to seem weak in front of him, you needed to show him you had control over how you felt. That you were sure you didn't want him but it was all a lie. A lie you told yourself and in return had the truth spoken out loud by the actions of your body.

Sehun knew of this and yet, his peppered kisses come to a halt. The grip he's got around you loosening as his hand slips out of your skirt. You step out of his grasp feeling ashamed, not daring to look at him. Turning around and staring at the doors instead. Fixing your shirt you crane your neck from side to side trying your best to calm down. Bringing a shaky hand towards the elevator buttons and clicking for your floor.

You can feel Sehun's gaze boring holes into the back of your head.

"I don't understand. Why can't you just let me love you? It's not that hard to just give me a shot. I can give you the world, give you all the happiness and security you need in life."

"--Let me be the man that protects you, that cherishes you. I know it's hard because of her but...don't we deserve to be happy?" He pleads, his voice wavering. If you had turned around to face him you'd see his lips quivering. His dark, brown eyes are glossy with tears threatening to escape from the tiny apertures of his tear ducts.

But currently, it's your turn to fall silent. All because you know that despite him falling at the seams, begging you to love him you know that he'll only go back to being the same once he's got you twirling around his dainty fingers. His norm being the same silent person as always, emotionally unavailable and confusing as always. Plus, who's to say he won't just ditch you like he's doing to your best friend?

"It's your turn to answer me," He pleads but you ignore him. Thanking the timing of the elevator for opening right at the end of his sentence.

Quickly stepping off you pray that he doesn't snake himself around you again because if he does, you don't know if you had the power inside to fight him off again and thankfully he doesn't. Sehun leaves you alone watching you get out of his view, the sound of your Chelsea boots clicking against the hallway floors until suddenly you're just gone. A wave of heartbreak washing over his feelings as he realizes that he just can't sit here and do nothing.

He won't go back to your best friend, he doesn't love her and in fact, he never did. It wasn't his choice to hurt her like this but he couldn't help but fall in love with the wrong person. So he chases you, chases the love of his life eager to satisfy his selfishness and have you by his side.

The consequence of dealing with your best friend could come later but first, he needed to convince you once and for all that he was the only good thing in his life. Your best friend was to be replaced.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃: 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐅𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐔©︎

#this was ass: not proofread properly.#oh sehun x reader #sehun angst #sehun x reader #oh sehun angst #oh sehun suggestive #oh sehun smut #exo angst #exo fanfic #exo x reader #i don't know tags: bye!#lmk what you think.#solange is in the mountains: queue!#sehun smut #sehun suggestive

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monster-bait · 3 years

Text

Monster Match: Landry, NB Monster x F Human, SFW

For @ghostlystitches, my 3rd place contest winner from waaaaaay back in August! Thanks so much for your patience, I can’t wait for Landry and the choir to make their return in Cambric Creek!

There was a universal truth to working in the service industry, one that not many people outside it understood: everyone who’d been doing the job for more than a few months possessed a customer service voice. Whether it was poised and polished, bubbly and enthusiastic, or steadfast and calm, The Voice had little bearing on the person to whom it belonged; gave little insight into one’s personality once they were off the clock and safe at home, far away from the food service or retail or call center way of life.

You were no different: friendly and professional, you handled customers with ease, chatted easily as people checked out, and always had a ready smile. The fact that you hated crowds and grew anxious at the thought of evenings out was not something the customers at your job would be able to guess, but you still sighed a small breath of relief upon clocking out each day, eager to be home with your cats and fuzzy socks.

There would be no respite that day.

As you walked across the shopping plaza’s parking lot, your stomach clenched with nerves, and a familiar tightness wrapped around your chest. Your heart was beating just a little bit faster than it had been an hour earlier, and a slight ripple of nausea replaced the giddy relief you normally felt as you went home each day. It was Thursday, the most anxiety-inducing day on the calendar, when you would leave work and go straight to the Nocturnal Worship Center, a non-denominational church for a subset of the community’s residents.

Your work friend Greska had gotten it into her head that it would be so fun! to join the Cambric Creek community choir several months earlier, changing her availability at the store almost immediately afterward, meaning she no longer worked on Thursdays with you. She hadn’t been on time to a single rehearsal since. You’d been unsurprised when she’d texted that afternoon, letting you know she’d not be able to make it to rehearsal that night; knew she’d already lost interest in the choir and would likely be announcing her intent to quit any day now.

I really hate Thursdays...

Being a human in Cambric Creek was hard enough. You loved your multi-species neighbors, had made good friends and enjoyed the varied clientele at work, but you still tiptoed, worried that you’d inadvertently say or do something to offend someone, finding it easier to exist at the periphery of friends groups at work and school. The community choir was a distillation of everything that made you nervous: a large, noisy crowd of big personalities, wannabe divas and social butterflies, and your heart would be in your throat each week as you made the drive.

The parking lot would already be filled with cars by the time you arrived, werewolves and lizardfolk and tieflings hustling in, neighbors and friends calling out greetings and socializing in the aisles beneath the big, domed ceiling of the non-denominational worship center, moonlight winking down through the glass overhead. Instead of comfy clothes and cozy socks, you would be in your work clothes for hours more, in particular your Thursday work outfit—one you always spent a bit more time and care picking out, attempting to be as cute as possible when you arrived at the choir’s home, a task which seemed impossible after a long shift.

“Mi mi mi mi mi mi miiiiiiiii….”

Landry’s rich voice reverberated off the wall to your back as you carefully stepped up the risers, taking your place beside them. As usual, you were unable to repress your smile as they belted out the arpeggio.

“Did you ever notice how self-absorbed this exercise is? There’s no you, no us. It’s all about meeeee!” They belted the last syllable once more, and you ducked your head as you laughed, lest they see the heat that stole up your neck. You enjoyed singing, it was true, but you enjoyed the company of the Thursday night rehearsals more. “As if there weren’t enough inflated egos packed in here!”

As if to prove their point, a turban-wearing harpy in the row ahead let out a window-rattling operatic warble, her voice piercing in the upper notes. You huffed silent laughter as Landry lifted a webbed hand as if to say see?!

You would be lying to yourself if you pretended even for a moment that your crush on your green-skinned section-mate wasn’t the reason you were determined to stick with the choir, despite the absence of your friend. Always chipper, always smiling, choir rehearsal with Landry had simultaneously become the brightest and most worrisome spot on your weekly calendar, as you fretted over saying the wrong thing or being too awkward, talking too much or not enough, seeming too eager...but the week’s worth of anxious over-thinking would wash away once you saw the small, pointed teeth revealed by their bright smile, and the hour-long rehearsal would seem only minutes long, leaving you free to bask in the afterglow of your crush throughout the weekend, before you began worrying all over again the following week.

“If you keep that up, Chaz is going to call you out again for not harmonizing. Do we really need a repeat of the great a Capella nightmare of two weeks ago?”

They huffed dismissively as Chaz, the eccentric vampire in charge, began to tap a pencil on the music stand before him to call the chattering group to attention. Your audition may have been good enough for the 1980’s fashion-loving choir director, although you were fairly certain your status as a human made up for what you lacked in musical talent, and that Chaz deliberately spaced his less-than confident choristers, strategically placing them adjacent to those who had talent to spare…like you and Landry.

“Please! What’s he gonna do? We’re the backbone of this whole row, he’d be lost without us!”

Your laughter was hidden behind your folder of music as the vampire ahead banged the music stand against the stage, finally earning the choir’s attention, and fire once more heated your neck.

I love Thursdays…

“The front row favorites were talking about going to the Sidecar after rehearsal. You’re coming, right?”

You froze, missing the note you were meant to be writing in your music, your entire body seizing in panic. It wasn’t until a webbed hand reached over, turning the page before you that you snapped from your stupor, your voice joining the first note half a beat behind. You knew a large portion of the choir gathered together after rehearsal each week, but you’d never joined them. Perhaps if Greska would have been there, perhaps if you were a part of any of the existing cliques which comprised the choir, if you didn’t feel so awkward…besides, it wasn’t as if you’d ever been invited by any of your fellow choristers.

“You’re not really going to leave me alone with these vultures, are you? You know I’m liable to say something about the out-of-tune second row if you’re not there to mind me.”

The Sidecar was a speakeasy-style pub, dimly lit and trendy with an expansive cocktail list and entirely intimidating. You’d never been there and couldn’t imagine yourself confidently strolling through the doors alone.

“You can follow me if you’ve never been there before. C’mon, you know I can’t be trusted alone.”

They wouldn’t be alone, you thought immediately: Landry was fun and funny and friendly towards everyone, and surely wouldn’t have a problem slipping in with the larger group.

“Please? Pleeeeease? I really don’t want to go if you’re not coming, but I’m parched. I’ll shrivel up like a blue-raspberry fruit roll-up if I don’t get something to drink right after rehearsal.”

A smart-assed retort about the nearly-full water bottle beside their chair danced on the tip of your tongue, but as you raised your head to deliver it, their wide, golden eyes held you spellbound, imploring you to give in. You felt suspended in time, like a prehistoric bug in amber as you admired the angle of their jaw, the slight sheen on their blue-green skin, the tightly sealed gills at the side of their neck. When your eyes wandered back to theirs, the golden orbs shimmered with hopeful expectation.

“Sure. We don’t want you getting into too much trouble. Look what happened the night of the harvest jamboree concert.”

Chaz was tapping the music stand as the piano started up, the elderly beetle woman who provided the accompaniment hunching over the keyboard with her multiple arms, and you were unable to bury your face in your music as you flushed. You scarcely recognized the confident voice that had come from your mouth; you were surprised with the way you’d responded, but pleased all the same, and you realized there was an unexpected benefit of possessing The Voice.

“I never met my father, but you can’t miss what you don’t have, you know?”

You nodded sympathetically, crunching into another of the fried zucchini sticks from the basket between you. They would have been better with a touch more salt, but your companion had a low tolerance for sodium, and you were happy to go without.

The Melted Meeple hummed with energy and people, as it always did on Saturday nights, but the tabletop gamers kept to their own parties, leaving plenty of open booths and tables toward the back half of the establishment, and you enjoyed the happy energy within. You’d blurted the question over their heritage, unable to tamp back your curiosity for another week, and to your relief, Landry had laughed.

“Well, my mom is a human. My parents met while she was studying abroad, and she came home with a hell of a souvenir! Although I must say, I’m way better than a t-shirt.”

Your face flamed, regretting asking so personal a question, but Landry waved away your flustered expression. “None of that. I was the only amphibious kid in the family, so that meant I won every swimming contest. I’d go to the river with my cousins and we’d mop the floor with the other kids. Now I live in a nice neighborhood where there are some folks who look like me, I have my own pool, and I sing in an awesome choir. No regrets!”

There was a ridged fin that moved down the center of their head like a punkish hairstyle, mirrored by the delicate fanned membranes of their ears...you already knew from casual bumps and touches that their skin was silky smooth, if not a touch rubbery, and you wondered what their long, webbed fingers would feel like moving over your skin, or entwined with yours…

“You’re right,” you agreed, watching them drain the last of their drink. “You’re much better than a shirt.”

That first night at the Sidecar had been as awkward as you’d feared, but Landry had stayed by your side and had lamented how fussy and complicated the bar menu was as they walked you back to your car once the choir members started to disperse. When the plans buzzed around rehearsal the following week, they hadn’t needed to beg again, and your dislike of crowds was slightly mollified as you walked into the speakeasy together, your taller companion’s hand resting lightly on your back.

“Let’s go somewhere else this week,” they’d whispered as Chaz addressed the tenors of the second row, the third week after that first post-rehearsal meetup. “That place is too dark and crowded. I thought that gnoll was going to climb into my back pocket last week.”

Somewhere else had been the Melted Meeple, then the Black Sheep Beanery the week after, and a dim sum restaurant that served bubble tea the week after that. A full month had gone by, and then another, you realized, two months of Thursdays, and somehow your stomach had stopped clenching in anxiety by Tuesday each week. The Melted Meeple had been your favorite of the spots you’d visited together, and you’d been the one to suggest it that night. Landry’s golden eyes had glimmered as they nodded happily, straightening to attention when Chaz lifted his head, signaling the group to attention once more.

Your weekly post-rehearsal outings had become the most looked-forward-to event on your weekly calendar, and when you’d once been overcome with anxiousness, a giddy elation seemed to carry you into rehearsal each week, and you were amazed by how quickly the time had seemed to fly.

“You know, there’s going to be a dinner after the Snowdrop Festival concert, we’re not going to be able to wriggle out of that.”

“That’s fine,” you allowed, laughing at their screwed-up expression. “You know, if you keep carrying on about the second row, that gryphon is going to assume you’re jealous.”

“Oh, you take that back! The audacity!”

You weren’t sure who this girl was, as you dropped your head back, unrestrained laughter pouring out of you. You weren’t sure who she was, but you liked her, you decided. Liked the possibility that perhaps your feelings weren’t completely one-sided after all. You’d wondered, a few weeks earlier, when Landry had talked around the gnoll sitting in front of you, evading her questions about that evening until the choir was called to attention, wrapping a cool, webbed hand around your wrist the moment the rehearsal ended, hurrying you down the aisle and out the door, before whooping into the night air that you’d escaped and were free to do what you wanted.

“We’re going to the dinner, and that’s that.” You watched as they rolled their eyes, sighing dramatically.

“Fine...what about Saturday?”

“Is there a rehearsal on Saturday?” You felt a prickle of panic that you’d forgotten to schedule something, for you definitely had to work Saturday afternoon, and had nothing else on your schedule…

“No, no...dinner, on Saturday? Are you free?”

The sound of other patrons playing their tabletop games suddenly seemed very far away, and wind rushed in your ears. Were you free Saturday night?

“I think I am,” you answered guardedly. “W-why? Is there something special about Saturday?”

“Yes. It’s not a rehearsal night.”

You bit your lip as Landry smiled broadly, giving you a glimpse of those small, pointed teeth. You wondered what their kiss would feel like; if their skin was always cool to the touch, and if they liked cats. “I work in the afternoon, but I’m not busy at all that night.”

They slipped on the knit hat you’d made them as you left the noise of the Meeple behind, their head fin popping adorably through the opening, and your heart felt close to bursting when long, cool, webbed fingers threaded with your own as you moved through the chilly night.

“Perfect, then. It’s a date.”

You’d reached your car by then, but you made no move to open the door. “A date.”

“A date.” Their lips were cool and soft against your cheek, and the heat that flooded your skin was enough to make the cold night air seem balmy. “A date,” they repeated once more, a bit softer, squeezing your hand before releasing you to open the car door.

You had learned to love Thursdays, but you were certain, as you pulled into the night, your skin buzzing where they’d kissed you, that Saturdays were about to become your new favorite day.

Next up is Alder the Ghillie Dhu’s revisit & then my first and second place contest winners! For exclusive Cambric Creek stories every month, smash subscribe on my Patreon!

#Exophilia #monster lover #enby monstey #non-binary monster #monster match #monster matchmaker #terato #amphibious #monster x reader #monster x human #monster x female reader

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funtimebunnyblog · 3 years

Note

I love how you wrote the s/o who struggles to stand up for herself 🥺 it was really good! I thought of something to build off of that if that’s alright with you. What if someone tried striking the pillar men’s very sweet and unconfrontational s/o? Maybe s/o did something as minor as accidentally bumping into someone. When they sheepishly try to apologize that person gets angry and tries to punch/slap s/o. Oh how I love protective pillar men 🥰

Thank you so much, Anon! 🥰😍❤ You're too sweet! It always makes my day to hear when someone likes my work! 😇😇😇

Oh boy, big protective Pillarmen? The absolute best kind of Pillarmen??? You got it, honey! 😘

Pillarmen (separate) protecting their non-confrontational s/o from being struck...

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• Admittedly, Kars wasn't very "confrontational" himself.

• In his own way, of course.

• He thought fighting with someone for no good reason (or any reason at all really) was as meaningless as it was laughable.

• If someone ever approached him and tried to initiate a violent confrontation by hurling insults at him or even going so far as to hit him; he would simply roll his eyes and walk away.

• He had much better things to do than stoop to some foolish Mortals level.

• You both were best described as "two sides of the same spectrum" seeing as how you had the tendency to go out of your way to avoid conflict with anyone.

☆

"Oh! I-I'm so sorry!" You cried, stepping away from the large and scowling man who now bared an expression that was something borderline feral. His glare sent a knife straight through your heart, puncturing your lungs and leaving you gasping for air as anxiety washed over you.

You had been walking down the street, your shift had ended and you were heading to meet up with Kars at your usual meeting spot just around the corner. You had talked about going to go get something to eat or at least being Home to have tonight and you were focused on just getting there. The sooner you reached your Husband, the sooner you could go Home and put your feet up after a long work day.

Those plans suddenly got thrown out the window when a man rounded the corner the same time you had.

When you collided with him, it caused him to drop the iced-coffee he had been clutching in his hand; the majority of it even spilled on you, staining your workshirt and pants, and yet you were the only one apologizing here.

"You stupid BITCH!" The stranger snapped, advancing on you as he jabbed his finger angrily at the now empty plastic cup lying in the sad brown puddle pooling on the sidewalk. "I just got that! It cost me 5-fucking-dollars!"

You really were sorry! You really didn't mean to make him drop his coffee! Panic flooded your body and burned in you like a fire, the flames of it only fueled more by his loud voice, making your hands quiver as you instinctively reached for your wallet.

"Here! I'll pay for it!" You said quickly, trying to something, anything to placate the angry man before things got even more intense. "I'll-- I'll even pay for a new one!"

He, however, was all but pacified.

Your offer was cut short by the surly stranger full on grabbing you by the collar of your coffee stained shirt; you let out a strangled yelp as he hauled you far too close for comfort. You could feel his hot breath hitting your face and your stomach dropped, sinking like a stone going down to the depths of the Ocean upon seeing the unquenchable inferno shimmering in his narrowed eyes.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that and a lot more, bitch." He snarled, drawing his hand way back.

Your eyes instinctively snapped shut as his free hand swung towards you, hard and fast your, your hands flying up on pure impulse alone in an attempt to shield you from the blow that was to come...

But it never came.

After too long of a moment, much longer than the hit should've taken, your eyes opened to find the mans large hand still poised in the air.

It was now gripped by a much larger one.

Kars' brow was knit together, his gaze sharp enough to draw blood as he scowled down at the offending man who still had a hand on you; his Wife. He had been waiting for you just around the corner. He had heard everything that had happened and had definitely seen more than enough.

His grip was so tight on the mans arm you could see circulation being cut off. Any tighter (that being; using his only half of his maximum strength) and he would without a doubt shatter the bone of the mans arm completely.

He was only holding back on doing so for your sake.

You were frightened enough as it was and Kars wanted to spare you any further horror by holding back on destroying this disgusting excuse of a lifeform... just for today.

"Let. Her. Go." His voice was low and fridged, the words slithering through the teeth that were clenched like a vice in his mouth.

There wasn't even a trace of anger to be found in the mans face anymore; like a slate wiped clean. His face had gone stark white and his eyes bulged in their sockets as he stared at the God before him; not unlike a deer staring into the headlights of a car coming 80km/hr toward it.

The car that would kill it in one singular, instantaneous hit.

The hand released from your collar, leaving behind a stretched imprint of his clenched fingers on the fabric. The very second you were released, the Pillarman hauled the stranger roughly into the air by his arm, his feet dangling over a foot above the pavement.

Kars' lips peeled back into a snarl, fangs glimmering like knives of ivory in the light. If looks could kill the man (who was now whimpering not unlike a kicked puppy) would be getting slaughtered.

"If you know what's good for you, Human. You will get out of my sight." Came the command, this time the man could now feel the hot breath of the seething Pillarman on his own face. "Now."

A shaky nod was the best the man could manage.

Without another word, Kars dropped him and the stranger practically hit the ground running. Taking off down the street as fast as his shaking legs could take him, stumbling as he nearly fell several times; the only thing preventing him from doing so was pure adrenaline.

You barely had a chance to blink, let alone process all that just happened, when Kars was on you.

The Pillarman pulled you into his embrace, uncaring that you were practically drenched in coffee and still quivering like a beached jellyfish. His eyes roamed your body, checking for any injuries he somehow missed; he let out a breath you hadn't realized he had been holding before his lips found the crown of your head, his arms tightening around you.

"Beloved, my beloved... he is gone now. Shh. Shh." He murmured into your hair. It was only then, when he swiped his calloused thumbs over your cheeks, you realized you were crying.

"Let's go home, dear one." He said after a long moment of simply holding you in his arms and shushing you, allowing you time to get your nerves somewhat under control. "I'll make dinner tonight and we'll see if we can do anything about that stain..."

Esidisi:

• Esidisi laughed in the face of conflict of all kinds.

• Really, fighting with someone with reason or not was just something funny to him because he knew his moves (by tongue and by combat) could not be matched.

• If someone tried to initiate a fight with him, he'd just chuckle and cock an eyebrow.

• If he was bored (which was most likely), he'd have the greatest time simply toying with them; laughing and grinning as they attempted to hurt him.

• Sometimes he'd even enjoy giving them a good scare by doing something with his powers.

• If not however, he'd simply scoff and walk right past them.

• Other than that, he actually tried to stay out of any sort of conflict when you were around; he didn't want you to be involved or hurt, of course.

☆

It wasn't often you went out to a club but every so often you and Esidisi would take the time out of your busy life to get dressed up and go out for a few drinks and a dance together as a treat.

You left the ladies room with a smile, lipstick reapplied and your appearance straightened up a little. You looked around as you made your way through the scene, searching the crowded floor for your Husband to catch another dance or two with him before retiring Home for the night.

You stepped back in surprise when a man cut you off halfway across the room, a drink in hand and a tipsy smile pulling across his face.

"Hey there," he drawled, trying to be casual. "You're cute. You wanna dance?"

You smiled sadly; you had to admit, the gesture was kind of funny and sweet. Had you need single you probably would've agreed.

"Thank you, but I'll pass." Really, you had no interest in dancing with a stranger in a place like this when all of your dances were already happily taken by your one and only.

You were about to offer to buy him another drink or even just settle with just chatting with him for a while (a friend was always nice to find in these places) but the man didn't exactly appreciate your answer, despite the fact it had been polite and straightforward.

"Uh, excuse me?" He all but spat, his face souring into a frown. "Why not?"

You couldn't help but blink in surprise, taken aback at his sudden turn of character.

"Oh-- Uh... well, I'm here with--"

"Oh, that's bullshit!" He cried, cutting you off. "You just don't wanna dance with me!"

You grimaced, holding your hands up in a placating gesture as you backed away from him, trying to keep some distance between you two as he tried to close it by advancing.

The man continued to rant and rave, growling about how there was absolutely no reason for you to refuse him a dance and that he was a perfectly nice guy and a good dancer, not pacified in the slightest.

You were becoming aware of just how very drunk this man was and he was only getting increasingly angry with you by the second. Each time you sheepishly tried to explain yourself you were cut off and it only seemed to get him more and more riled up.

You REALLY didn't want to deal with this on a fun night out. Hell, you didn't like confrontations like this in general.

"Listen, I've gotta go--" You were cut off again, gasping as the drunk stranger grabbed you by the arm just as you started to shuffle away to try and merge in the crowd again to disappear from his sight and pretend this interaction never happened; his grip was rough and unrelenting.

The room was starting to spin; the lights, the music, the chatter was suddenly far too much, drowning you in a static of fear and confusion. The man was snarling something out at you but you couldn't hear it over all the kerfuffle.

Your vision hyperfocused on the bottle the man had in hand; lifting high over his head, swinging down in slow motion.

The bottle never hit its mark as it was suddenly plucked from the strangers grasp.

In a fraction of a second, the man was now grabbed by his free hand and spun around. You opened your eyes to find him in the grip of Esidisi, your one and only dance partner and Husband.

"Looking for a dance partner, are we?" He questioned the now gawking drunk.

Esidisi had been waiting for you where you had left him at the bar. Being as tall as he was he saw you leaving the restroom and decided to meet you halfway across the dance floor; however, he stopped short as he saw your little confrontation happening. After giving you a good once over to ensure you weren't hurt, thankfully you were just a little shaken, he inclined his head over to the bar for you to sit and calm down while he handled this situation.

The massive man full on grinned down at the drunk man in his grip, giving him a good spin around before pulling him in close. Just as he pressed him straight against his muscular body in an iron grip; the song shifted, hot and base blasted music blaring through the speakers of the club.

"In that case, you're in luck!" He chirped, chuckling at the strangers owlish expression. "I was just looking for a good dance partner myself and I happened to overhear you talking with my Wife."

The drunk man gulped, through his potent mixture of intoxication and fear he didn't miss the fact that Esidisi's grip tightened just the slightest bit more as he took care to emphasize on the word "Wife". The stranger let out a strangled yelp that went unheard by the rest of the dancing crowd as Esidisi strutted to the music, dragging him along. Any protests on your attackers part went ignored by Esidisi and fully unheard by anyone else over the intense beats ringing through the club.

Your Husband winked at you over his shoulder, bringing you some small sense of relief as you felt your fear start to slowly drop down from it's sky-high level and you made yourself comfortable on a stool to watch him and the drunk stranger.

If the man had wanted to dance so bad, bad enough to threaten you and try to inflict harm, Esidisi fully intended on giving him the dance he craved.

He was gonna dance with him until he dropped...

Wamuu:

• As any Warrior should be, Wamuu was indeed confrontational.

• However, his confrontation was only to an extent, per say.

• Like his Masters, he generally did his best to try and avoid conflict with a Mortal.

• If someone simply walked up to him and struck him he would simply stare down at them with a raised eyebrow, honestly amused.

• The hit would probably tickle the living giant rather than inflict pain on him.

• On the other hand, if that Mortal happened to cross a line verbally by deeply insulting him or plucking a nerve somehow, he was fully willing to duel them to the death.

• He was always willing to fight for you; regardless of the situation.

• He was basically your knight in shining armor for that reason.

☆

Working a 12 hour shift was always exhausting to you. Sometimes you couldn't tell what was worse; having a busy day full of orders or having a slow day where you saw almost nobody at all and were bored out of your own mind.

Today had been pretty steady, having boughts of people between lonely hours and thankfully, you were just 10 minutes until closing now. Your eyes glanced up to the clock on the wall, silently pleading for it to go just a little faster so you could close up fully for the night. Wamuu would be here soon to walk Home with you, he usually stopped at the Gym to get a work out in and kill some time before coming bye. Your walks Home with your loving Husband were the best part of your day, sharing stories and talking as you strolled arm in arm down the street.

You hadn't seen another customer in the past 2 hours so any cleaning or chores that needed to be done before the night was over was already done. You briefly considered starting to count up the till now so you could just leave as soon as you closed but that plan was quickly shunt aside when the door to the shop flung open, the bell overhead jangling loudly, and in stepped a customer. You resisted the urge to sigh, there was almost always someone who came in at the last minute and wanted a sandwich.

However, you put on your best smile as the man who came in approached the counter.

The mans face was already in a knot, he had huffy air of "I'm in a H U R R Y" about him and that alone was enough to make sweat prickle on the back of your neck. These kinds of customers could be the absolute worst, even more so at closing, and you prayed he would order something easy so you could close up tonight without tears in your eyes from being yelled at again by someone.

"Good evening," you chimed, smoothing out your apron as you set your hands on the counter. "What can I get you?"

"One meatball sub, white cheese, on Italian." He told you rather shortly, drumming his fingers on his arm.

A lump swole in your throat as you turned your gaze to the very empty meatball tray sitting across the counter.

Oh boy, here we go...

You sucked in a deep breath, your smile unfaltering. "Oh, um--... I'm sorry but we're all out of meatball. Can I get--"

"Then make more." He said curtly, his finger drumming only increasing as he full on glared at you. He also made sure to visibly roll his eyes as if you had said something completely and utterly stupid.

"I'm sorry, that's not possible." You told him, trying not to let your voice go down to the squeak it wanted to. "We're closing in 5 minutes and cooking more up--"

"Ugh, I don't care!" He growled. "I don't have all night, just make it!"

You were starting to shiver as he got louder and louder, "Sir, we close at 7. I can't, it's against policy, I can only make more tomorrow morni--"

You jumped as the man suddenly lunged and a yelp managed to escape your lips when his hand gripped around the strap of your apron, pulling you roughly over the counter.

"Listen to me, you dumb CUNT," He snarled, his grip tightening hard enough you could hear threads snapping in your apron. "Make the damn sandwich so I can fucking go Home! I don't fucking care about your policy! I want my meatball sub!"

You were breathing hard, your throat squeezing shut as he growled lowly into your face. Never once had a customer gotten this violent with you, not even on a shift where you were with someone else. Everything was becoming consumed in static, your heartbeat in your ears as you floundered to find something, ANYTHING, to say to get him to let go.

"I-- I--..." it was the only thing that could come out of your mouth.

Unfortunately, it wasn't what this man wanted to hear and it only infuriated him further.

He was screaming at you now, screaming so loud you couldn't understand him, only making you start to cry as you stood helplessly in his unrelenting grasp.

Like lightning, the mans fist curled and swung your way.

He would've made a clear slug across your jaw if a much bigger fist hadn't clenched around it, stopping it mid-air.

You gasped as you were suddenly released, stumbling and catching yourself on the counter before you could fall to the tiled floor. You looked up in shock to find none other than Wamuu gripping your attacker with one huge fist by the front of his shirt, making the man dangle in the air.

"You seem to misunderstand what my beloved here was trying to explain to you." The Warrior growled, the veins in his neck pulsing as he glowered down at the man who's expression had now turned to one of terror. "Normally, I would overlook ill-mannered Humans such as yourself but you have made a very grave mistake tonight by, not only disrespecting, but touching my dear Bride."

The man opened his mouth to say something, probably to apologize or to tell the massive man he would leave and never come back but the words didn't so much as reach his tongue.

Wamuu flung him across the room, as effortlessly as one would swat away a buzzing fly, and the man crash landed into the tables in the corner; knocking them over like a bowling ball would pins.

"You have 3 seconds to get out before I throw you farther!" Wamuu snapped, taking one step towards the man laying in the entanglement of fallen chairs and tables.

The man clamored to his feet before Wamuu could come another step closer, somehow limping and running towards the door and out of the building.

As instantaneous as that fight, Wamuu was over the counter and kneeling by you, cupping your face in his hands. You were still crying, curled in on yourself where the man had grabbed you and shaking like a leaf in a bitter Fall wind.

"My dear sweet little one, shhh... shh.. it is alright." Your Husband crooned, pulling you into an embrace so gentle it seemed almost impossible coming from him after such a display.

You only cried harder, burying your face in his neck as all your nerves finally let loose. Wamuu held you in his arms for a good long while, he made sure to turn the closed sign however before anymore unwanted customers could come in for tonight.

He fully planned on speaking to your manager about this and your safety here from now on...

Santana:

• Santana wasn't confrontational unless given no other option.

• Chances were, if someone tried to pick a fight with him (whether by verbal abuse or physical violence) he would simply walk away, not interested in the slightest.

• It was almost as if they were invisible to him.

• If they tried to strike, he could just make their body phase right through his like nothing or his body would just go to rubber right around their limb.

• He was never really in the mood to fight with a primitive unless they TRULY annoyed him.

• More often when that happened they would be come dinner.

• But if someone tried to start a confrontation with you; he'd be the one to end it.

☆

"Oh yes!" You breathed a sigh of relief when you grabbed a hold of the roast sitting all by itself on the refrigerated shelf, a small triumphant smile curling at the corners of your mouth.

You honestly feared they'd be fresh out, you were having some Family over this Holiday weekend and needed this for the dinner you planned on preparing for when they came. This time of year it was hard to get a hold of good stuff at the supermarket as shoppers tended to all share similar traditions and that meant they also shared similar meal ideals.

You couldn't be more lucky you got your hands on the last one, lest you'd have to drive to the other supermarket across town to continue your search and most likely be disappointed there too.

You had sent Santana off with the list and cart to grab the other stuff you needed while you headed for this important item first. Now all you had to do was track down your Husband and drop this into your little cart so you could be one step closer to going Home to prep.

With the roast in arm, you started off.

"Hey!"

Someone shouted from down the isle but you barely even paid attention to it, chances were someone was arguing with a worker or another customer (as things like that also had the tendency to happen this time of year); another reason you wanted nothing more than to get your groceries and get out of the store.

Watching two customers duke it out over food and menial things was probably as uncomfortable as being part of the fight... at least in your eyes anyways.

"Hey stop!"

Once again the sound of the shouting fell on deaf ears as you kept walking, about to round a corner into another isle on your sojourn for your mate. Santana was most likely somewhere around the frozen foods section, he had asked if he could pick out some icecream for the weekend earlier in the car.

You stopped short when somebody grabbed you harshly by your arm, yanking you hard enough to spin you around. You actually let out a yelp in surprise, your eyes snapping down to the well manicured nails that were digging into the flesh of your arm. Your gaze instinctively followed the hand all the way up the arm connected to it, until you found yourself meeting the intense glare of the woman grabbing you.

"I told you to stop!" She snarled, your owlish expression not hindering any of her obvious anger from spewing out. "You took the last roast!"

She pointed accusingly at the hunk of wrapped meat cradled in your other arm with a long manicured nail.

You blinked, a brief sweat was starting to form underneath your clothing as your skin burned hot, crawling under the woman's hand; you wanted her off of you but she wouldn't let go.

"I-- Well, yes there was only one left--" you began, trying your best to explain yourself (let alone get a grip on your spiking nerves) only to be cut off.

"Well, I need it!" The woman tried to reach for it but you pulled away, only to be pulled back by her; nails pinching your skin like needles. "Give it to me right now! I need it more than you do!"

You tried to yank your arm from her grasp but she gripped you tight enough to make you cry out. There were so many things you wanted to say but couldn't as they just got jumbled in your squeezing throat; you had saw it first, you needed it too for a special dinner, there were plenty of other places she could go to find one.

You really didn't want to quarrel with this crazy stranger over something as stupid as a piece of raw food, in a supermarket of all places.

"Let go!" You plead, not even caring about the roast or your weekend dinner plans anymore. You just wanted her to leave you alone!

One of her hands raised, fingers curling as she swung it down with the intention of clawing you right across your face... but her nails didn't find skin this time.

The woman gasped as her own arm was grabbed, the shock of it made her release you from her grip, and in one good tug she was pulled straight away from you.

Her gaze followed the huge, ivory skinned hand that dwarfed her arm, following it until her eyes met two sapphires burning holes into her from underneath thick crimson eyebrows.

Santana huffed through his nose, "Do not touch my mate, primitive." He commanded quietly, an order not to be ignored, however the surly woman wasn't done yet.

As quickly as it was lost, the scowl returned to her face and it was now directed onto Santana the youngest of the Pillarmen; not only was he your Husband, he was the wrong person to pick a fight with.

"Just what do you think you're doing?!" She fumed, getting right in his face rather than making the more wise decision and backing down. "Let go of me!"

Santana stared at her, not fazed in the slightest as she began to full on rant on about how it was wrong for him to grab her and that she would report him for assault (as if she hadn't just been violently assaulting someone herself) and she of course went the extra mile to add that her Husband was someone very important and he would be arrested.

It only made her angry all the more as the Pillarman just stood there, quiet, the very definition of disinterest etched into the features of his face. He honestly didn't care about her ramblings as there was no petty threat she could possibly make that would scare him away.

Her free hand lifted again and it swung with the intention of slapping him right across his face.

As soon as skin was supposed to meet skin, skin passed right through skin.

Now, the woman's angry demeanor crumbled for good, staring in horror as her hand simply went right through his face. Her hand was implanted right in his cheek, literally melded inside of his head, only the tips of her long nails were visible from the back of Santana's neck. She was stuck there, trying to pull herself out of him, the terror gripping her heart was the only thing keeping her from screaming to high heaven.

Santana never once said or did anything as she did, watching as he pulled and pulled to no avail.

Her whimpers slowly built up to full on cries of fear, Santana fully intended on making her feel the same thing you had just gone through with her. It was only until she was begging for him to release her hand from his body did he finally relent.

The minute her hand was freed from his face she stumbled back, almost falling and clutching her wrist as she fled from the isle and the supermarket itself; no longer caring about the product she tried to rip from you.

Santana merely exhaled, watching her go with a notable twinkle in one of his eyes before turning his attention to you. You were still pretty shaken up, thankfully you hadn't dropped the roast but you were nursing the arm where she had grabbed you and the imprints of her nails in your skin she had left behind. Wordlessly, he walked up and pressed a soft kiss to the cheek that woman had almost scratched as he took the roast from you, putting it in the cart right next to the tub of ice cream.

"They have been dealt with," he said, his deep voice sending vibrations through your whole body as he pressed you close to him, wrapping his arms around you in a hug. "I will never allow anyone to harm you, my heart."

#funnybunny #pillarmen #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #pillarmen headcanons #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader #anon ask #my writing

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sugar-petals · 4 years

Text

boyfriend bot (m)

↳ Not made of flesh nor blood. But made to treat you right.

↳ PAIRING ⇁ baekyhun x reader

↳ STATS ⇁ one shot | sci-fi + domestic au

↳ WORDS ⇁ 29k

↳ WARNINGS ⇁ slow burn, the yearning™, eventual smut, light angst, making out, fingering, blowjobs, vaginal penetration, baekhyun can expand his dick what about it, cock warming, messy sex, artificial semen, giving orders + name-calling (bbh receiving), cum play, throatpies, wet panties all the way, masturbation, switching & dom!reader undertones but more vanilla > kink, french kissing, baek is a gentleman, cuddles

↳ ♡ Caro’s Note ✏︎ mmh i love seeing reader get her life turned upside down. features ten chapters. please indulge. ✍️

Chapter 1: The Capsule

God, the sting is back. Your left foot starts hurting like absolute hell. Out of all possible moments and places.

The vaguely polite smile on your face drops to a stifled expression, but Mr. Kim — on top of being just as oblivious as you expected a man of his job to be — is too preoccupied to notice.

„Our faculty is quite large,“ he says, gazing over the diagrams on his tablet pc. „We require a lot of spare room to test the robots.“

You exhale. Trying to focus on the diagrams, whatever they might mean. It’s mostly obscure, floating animations in green and yellow. Actually — very much unlike the faculty itself which is white, stark, and sterile. And yes. Too large for its own fucking good.

Just keep on walking, you tell yourself, you’ll be there soon. You’ll see Baekhyun in just a minute, okay.

Besides Mr. Kim, whoever works here has got to be a raging part-time athlete. Crossing all the plain white corridors feels like jogging right through a football field.

If you walk down any more of those, you’ll actually be out of breath. On top of limping like a stork in a puddle of half-dry mud. All accompanied by the squeaking of Mr. Kim’s obnoxious white crocs that seem to mock you with every step.

You spend too much time inside.

But who these days trains for a marathon like this.

Another deep exhale. Focus, focus, focus. You try to keep the conversation smooth.

„That’s reasonable. How long does it take to run such a test?“

„Really depends on the model,“ Mr. Kim hums, now diverting his eyes from his device to meet yours. „Prototypes take three, even four years to manufacture, trial, and refine. It is rocket science.“

Your foot is kind enough not to send another spike of pain through your legs so your face looks neutral at best.

„Four years. Quite a long time.“

Around just as long as you’ve been the single pringle of the neighborhood if you count up the months. Now that’s funny. You still feel pathetic showing up here, either way.

But since you already paid and walked what feels like three miles, there’s no going back.

Mr. Kim stuffs the tablet into his pocket now, then interlaces his fingers, making him reminiscent of some kind of ancient Roman oratory figure with his long white lab coat on.

„It is. The models that you can customize do several test runs over the course of two weeks, on the other hand.“

„Wow, that’s actually pretty fast, then.“

You’re genuinely surprised. That the faculty is professional to a fault, however, isn’t shocking. The reviews of their products are nothing but positive. Five stars are plastered all over the edgy customer feedback section on the company website. Accordingly, your purchase is worth more than five saved monthly salaries which torments you more than your damn foot.

Mr. Kim cocks his head a little.

„Technically, yes,“ he says. „However, every custom bot has once been a prototype. All the important safety tests have been conducted.“

You raise your brows. If you did the math correctly, it’s 3 to 4 years development stage plus two weeks of customizing and tests. That makes sense.

You’re surprised your brain can register as much. Now that it’s been ten minutes of walking or even a bit longer, who knows the time works differently in this bitch of a building, the corridor is giving your Achilles’ heel a hard time again with another endlessly long passage.

Doors upon doors, one more mysteriously labeled than the other, pop up right and left. ‚CASTS AND SCULPTURE‘ says one entrance. ‚LINGUISTIC DEVELOPMENT‘ another. From another corner, a whirring noise keeps on disrupting the silence of the hallway.

What else can you do but try to slow down the pace without it being too discernable. It’ll pass in no time, you tell yourself, don’t be a bother. You won’t have some breakdown in here and ask for a glass of water or whatever. It’s already embarrassing enough to do all of this.

If you act up, they might consider you unsuitable to take the bot home. There are no opportunities to sit down anyway. Mr. Kim is far too awkward to talk about anything else but technical details. They probably don’t even have cardboard cups and mineral water in here, at least not in the radius of the sensitive equipments.

It really is a rocket science place.

Figures, this is a place for robots, not humans. The receptionist of the faculty himself had been a bot already. Sleek, poised, and polite. Interestingly, with a slight resemblance to Mr. Kim.

You chew on your bottom lip to distract yourself, walk on. Trying to come up with questions seems to be the best way to distract yourself at this point.

„Do… you also quiz the robots for conversation like that?“

It sounds like an outlandish thing to say to such a high-ranking scientist, but with the pain in your leg, it’s all too easy to forget about tone. The corridor becomes longer with every step and the neon lights above don’t help. Maybe you only hallucinate all of this. Mr. Kim sounds as factual and courteous as ever.

„Of course. We simulate every possible life situation you can think of. He can play sports with you, talk about modern art, cook Spaghetti, iron clothes, send you a text message, point out star constellations.“

„Really?“

Your heart beats even faster than it already does. Not that you’d ever need your robot to do push-ups or teach you cross-training. But Mr. Kim very much sounds like he’s confident the android will keep all its lofty claims. It’s a promise that raises your mood a lot more than you thought. All the details on the website you’ve read about three times already, but hearing them confirmed is still exciting.

„Even if a client customizes a model,“ he pulls out the device from his pocket again, then points to several other red graphs on the tablet. „The base programming allows for a variety of actions already.“

None of the data he shows you instantly rings a bell. It looks far too advanced. But it’s a no-brainer to you, someone like Mr. Kim lives in a bubble of bot speak.

As far as you understand it, what he means is that all robots have long been ‚finished‘. Customizing only adds a few features. A final, very personalized touch.

„Um— And my bot is able to learn, right?“

„That is one of the most important features,“ Mr. Kim fiercely nods his head. So that struck a chord. „Baekhyun is a leisure model, but you’ll notice that he asks a lot of questions.“

„What type of questions?“

„Well… Think of it as if a child with a rational mind gets to know the world. Very rapidly rather than naively. And, he constantly updates what your preferences are.“

„Right.“

The prospect of finally meeting him lets the pain in your leg fade off at least a little.

Baekhyun.

Only eight letters in an online form until this very moment. But soon, someone very real before your eyes. It’s an overwhelming thought, but your impatience is stronger than that. Now you really want to see him.

The corridor, thankfully, ends in a few feet anyways. Your knees are getting wobbly by the minute.

„Is he able to reach conclusions on his own?“ you ask, hands stuffed into the side pockets of your black jeans. Your pulse is still increasing. Mr. Kim’s friendly face becomes even friendlier with the smile that now stretches wide across.

„Conclusions— I would describe him as logical, but with a strong ethical twist. He’s a leisure model, after all.“

That sounds like a fancy way of saying ‚yes‘. Or, in a way, a hook to assure a new client that it was money well spent and not wasted on some hoax.

It’s not like you don’t trust the countless ‚I got a leisure bot and this is how we live’ client videos you saw online.

Even the most amateur vloggers seemed to be wildly in love with their models. Kissing and hugging them all over the place, playing games together and whatnot.

„You know, I had the honor of overseeing his tests last week,“ Mr. Kim continues. „Baekhyun’s sense of wit is so astounding, even our chief robotics officer was surprised. And he works in the department since 1995. That’s almost 40 years of experience here.“

You have to smile to yourself now, too. In the ‚select personality’ section on the customization website, your particular wish was to make Baekhyun sharp. Maybe this could turn out as interesting as you pictured it would be.

„We took a little longer with it. But I believe Baekhyun is among one of the best customizations this month,“ Mr. Kim now stops and draws out a key card. „Especially— in terms of how you helped us design his looks and theme. Most client requests we get want some kind of he-man. They only spend twenty minutes customizing their bot on the website, if not less.“

Mr. Kim pulls a frustrated face recalling that. In the meantime, you try to keep your legs straight as good as possible. It’s probably been a few years since you’ve been legitimately nervous like that and it catches you off guard. This is like a final exam. After a brief attempt to fix your hair, you shove your hands into your pockets a little deeper.

„Hm, I see?“

It must have been getting vastly boring in the lab judging by how he talks himself into a frenzy about the project. Although well, if he wouldn’t, you’d be a little worried. This is the type of job where you have to geek out. Mr. Kim seems to be the right kind of guy in his profession, you can’t deny that.

You take a deep breath now — hoping they didn’t go too far with their experiments once they got the rare opportunity to do so.

Mr. Kim pushes his brunette hair back. You can tell he’s getting a little tense himself. He disables the tablet PC using a sleek button on its side and clamps the device under his left armpit.

„You spent almost four hours selecting all the extended details,“ he says. „That helps us a lot. Baekhyun quickly developed into our favorite project to work on. He’s a very self-aware and attentive android.“

You nod, absent-minded already. What matters is that you finally reached the end of the fucking corridor. And just how high your level of adrenaline has been rising. It feels like a gyro drop at full throttle.

You murmur a small thank you and watch Mr. Kim swipe his card through the chunky white, bleeping doorknob. A green light appears from above the door and it scoots open.

„Over there,“ he brings his left hand forward, ushering you inside.

In the middle of the dome-like room before you is a platform sporting an adjustable mechanical frame. Chrome, light aluminum, something of that kind. A terribly odd construction, but almost mundane for a faculty of this caliber. Everything smells painstakingly sterile.

There are similar set-ups you’ve seen in the hospital you got your appendix removed in last spring. Whether that’s a good sign or not you can’t tell over the buzzing inside of your head. This shit has you way too clamped up in the stomach.

You try to focus on observing as good as you can. Back to the here and now.

The frame holds a shiny grey capsule reminiscent of a cocoon. Mr. Kim steps forth toward the pod and swipes across its surface with a gentle right hand. That triggers a series of mechanisms at the back of the capsule, causing it to gain opacity.

Within seconds, a quirky silhouette with elegant limbs appears inside the cocoon. Your hands tremble even more. This is the moment you downed three large fucking cups of coffee for this morning after two winding hours of sleep.

„There he is,“ Mr. Kim announces, audibly proud.

Once the capsule is fully transparent, it is turned upright by the frame shifting about— and dissolves. The cocoon is gone.

The man that now stands before you slowly comes to life as if waking up from a fifty-year-long slumber.

Chapter 2: Enamel

What you first notice is his hair: Whiter than pearls, almost platinum. It’s long enough so see a slight bend in it. Whether it is actual hair or some kind of artificial fiber seems quite impossible to tell. It’s all matte, gently moving. Underneath its softly parted bangs open—

Baekhyun’s eyes. You can’t help but get tunnel vision and an awkwardly stiff posture. Even if they still look sleepy, there is so much movement in them already. They are perfectly droopy and teddy-like, turning toward you with a shapely, slightly long button nose in between. Either iris is deep and dark to the point of no pupil being immediately recognizable. There is something very intentional in his gaze that makes you hold your breath.

At a second glance, it appears as if a thin layer of beige eyeshadow was smudged right around both lash lines, drawing even more attention to the little gleam in the eyes themselves. All around the lab, the faculty’s scientists have placed huge round neon light spheres as lamps, one emitting a light more uncomfortable than the other. But in Baekhyun’s eyes, they appear like distant planets.

Seconds pass. You stare. Then, a voice light and airy knocks you out of your frozen state.

„I am very glad to be with you now,“ Baekhyun’s lips begin to move. You audibly breathe in even harder.

They are small, rosy, angular at the cupid’s bow— revealing a subtle smile with beaming teeth and red gums above. And even though they are bright, none of his teeth appear remotely the same, even, nor too symmetrical.

Imperfect like nature, they look just like yours or anyone else’s. You wouldn’t have guessed, not in a million years, that they are made of ‚steadfast, durable acrylic‘ as it said on the website. His smile looks— so real.

„Very nice to meet you, Baekhyun,“ is the only thing you manage to blurt out, extending your hand. Your brain is running on emergency autopilot.

In this moment, it feels like you are more robotic than the robot before you.

The gentle squeeze of Baekhyun’s gently forthcoming hand feels warming. Where you expected cold metal, a smooth heat spreads in your palm. Besides a small whirring sound that seems to emanate from his shoulder joints and wrist, the way he shakes your hand is fluid, malleable to how your own arm angles towards him. Almost — intuitive?

„I’m sorry if I smell like oil and metal. That will fade,“ chirps Baekhyun, lighthearted and boyish, letting go of your hand. It took you a solid eight seconds to initiate a withdrawal. The shame of feeling so desperate drives a pulsing heat into your face. Guinness world record for longest human-android handshake here we come.

Mr. Kim can’t help but laugh behind you, then ends up mumbling into his non-existent beard.

„Exceptional… truly exceptional. Our language specialists have outdone themselves. Even the voice modulation.“

Whatever that exactly means, you nod along anyway. And you almost thought Mr. Kim was laughing at you.

You rebuke yourself for getting way too defensive. It’s not that your synapses would bother dealing with complicated information like this right now to begin with.

„His voice is— It’s just how I pictured it. It’s so beautiful.“

It doesn’t sound recorded or like some random car navigation system’s speaker at all. It’s almost as if he was being perfectly synchronized by somebody standing right behind him. Only a minimal distortion at the end of his sentences gives away how his words are being generated, processed, pieced together. Other than that, his light and animated tone sounds authentic to a surprising extreme. For some reason, it’s almost as if he’s singing. He speaks surprisingly fast, too.

„You have to compliment yourself,“ Baekhyun steps forward a little, and the capsule frame behind him removes itself from the room’s center platform with a zooming noise. „My voice is designed after your imagination.“

„That’s, that’s nothing. Mr. Kim did all of the important work,“ you negate, way, way too fast, and you bite your lip for almost interrupting him.

„Baekhyun is correct,“ Mr. Kim retorts, now appearing on your left with a clipboard in his hand. He must have fetched it while you were busy being a marble statue. „He’s proof of what fantasy can achieve.“

He smiles, then begins to tick boxes on the board, using a shiny, bold black pen from his lab coat’s chest pocket. Baekhyun smiles a marvelous smile right along.

He is truly hypnotizing to your eye. The more you can take in his entirety, the more overwhelming it is, and there’s no way you can get enough of it.

His skin in particular catches your attention. It is embued with a light bronze sheen. His neck, his arms, his face: All different ways of sunkissed, but still appearing as a consistent whole.

Upon a closer look, you even see a few moles and the finest hairs— on his underarms, the chin, the linings of the cheeks. The steep jaw, too. You remember a detail on the website saying that he can actually get goosebumps, so going by that the little golden fuzz is able to move.

You’ve never seen skin like that in your whole life, and yet, it feels natural. The evenness is not the same anywhere. In some spots, there are subtle blue streaks and elongated bumps, as if there were veins. His neck and hands sport the most prominent bits. Around his wrist and elbow area, you can clearly see bone structure denting through. It’s like real skin on a skeleton. His collar bones are acutely visible, as are his knuckles and cheekbones.

„Baekhyun’s haptics are perfected to a single pore,“ a scribbling Mr. Kim picks up on your lasting, travelling gaze. „Elastic, but sturdy, and still extremely soft. You can touch him like any other person. The skin mimics the same properties except that it hardly ages. It is also heated to body temperature.“

Now you know where your money went into. And why Baekhyun’s hands felt so astoundingly real. You wonder how it would feel if he would—

„Quite alright,“ you gawk, chasing away a gazillion of incoming thoughts. All while feeling what seems like an entire waterfall of sweat trickle down your lower spine. You grant yourself the annual award for the most inept conversationalist nation-wide. „Does that need any maintenance?“

„Principally… he is a self-maintaining system,“ Mr. Kim finishes up with his paperwork. „Even small damages he can repair without you having to bring him here. He can log into our databank and get updates if necessary, though that rarely occurs with leisure models. All very discreetly, of course. The, well, the only thing Baekhyun needs from you is regular interaction. As I said: Learning is vital to him. Absolutely vital. You can talk to him like with anybody else.“

„That I can uh provide! I mean sure!“

You exhale. Slacken. Try to keep your feet parallel to each other. If interaction is the only thing needed to keep Baekhyun on his toes, your toolbox can gladly stay in the basement. Lord knows you’d be a lackluster bot mechanic. Casts, sculpture, linguistics and whatnot, on top of any screws to tighten.

„It’s a pleasure,“ a very smoldering Baekhyun straightens his body, and along with it his crisp white outfit. Which you… already like a lot.

It’s tailored rather snugly to his slim frame. You believe it’s got to be synthetics he’s wearing, a thick kind of fabric. As if you didn’t sweat already, the top is sleeveless. Even if he appears quite slender, Baekhyun’s upper arms are nevertheless muscular. The way he straightened up only emphasizes how toned he is.

„And I’m sorry I made you nervous,“ Baekhyun continues, softy gazing over your face. „Seeing someone with enamel eyes is not the most common thing.“

Now your posture becomes equally as upright. The marble statue is back.

„Enamel?“

As if you forgot whatever the hell language is. Mr. Kim must think you’re a complete fool. And Baekhyun, anyways. You already realize how well he can read situations. And— well, your very face. It’s been one of your top requirements in the customization form, after all. It comes back to bite you.

„We normally use plain glass. For the ocular apparatus, I mean,“ Mr. Kim puts away his clipboard, seemingly content. „But since Baekhyun’s eyes are so dark, engineer Park suggested a coat of enamel to emphasize shine. It adds to the visual. Otherwise, his eyes would swallow all light if you will.“

That’s why the lamp reflections are the way they are in Baekhyun’s eyes. It really is a kind of shiny effect. Not even Tulo, the new palm-sized puppy of your friend Hwasa, has such a vivid expression.

In a following moment of sobriety, you let Mr. Kim’s words repeat in your head. Ocular apparatus. It feels so weird to talk about Baekhyun’s face this way. But it helps to remind you once again. He is man-made. For you. Convincingly well.

„Do you like it?“ Baekhyun promptly asks. „It is the department’s goal to make them look as real as possible.“

„I… I can’t complain. It’s incredible. Really incredible.“

If not absolutely staggering. Your whole body feels tingly.

Baekhyun shifts close to you by the millimeter the more you gape right at him. In the meantime, Mr. Kim stuffs his pen back into the lab coat with an understanding hum.

You have no idea what Baekhyun will do now.

Chapter 3: He Treats You So Right

„So, you agree to matching up with client 2B6?“ Mr. Kim asks Baekhyun.

„I do, sir,“ comes a faithful answer right away. Baekhyun’s cheeks become fuller in a beaming smile.

„Are you satisfied with the result and would like to take Baekhyun home?“ Mr. Kim now turns to you.

„Y—yes, I… I want to.“

You don’t even dare to blink. It feels like you’ve grown roots to the ground.

Is this a marriage ceremony? Is the kiss next? Are you supposed to strip on the spot to seal the deal?

But Mr. Kim is stoic.

„I see you are ready to go then. Baekhyun can explain most of his features by himself, anyways. Better than me, even.“

In fact, he sounds more hurried and neutral now. There’s work waiting for him, you can tell. And he sure as hell had his fair share of impatient clients.

You clench up hoping that you looking at Baekhyun like that isn’t that kind of—

Neediness?

You wish you could deny it. But you’ve made the purchase, you limped all the way here. It’s already obvious, it has to be. There’s no way they don’t pick up on it. It’s what drives Mr. Kim’s business almost endlessly, anyways. In this very moment, ten, maybe twenty, even thirty other bots are presented to clients in rooms scattered all over the faculty.

You have to pull yourself together. It’s not like you’re the only one. You center back to Mr. Kim.

„He can?“

„Yes. Any autonomous bot should be able to explain themselves, it’s what I believe in.“

Now that sounded like conviction indeed.

But you wonder why Mr. Kim still bothered going on tangents, then. But yet again, whatever was on the clipboard was a test run he had to monitor or something like that.

The way he asked Baekhyun if he wanted to match up with you must have been part of that. Baekhyun had agreed so fast and warmly, in such a genuine way of speaking.

Even now, his eyes look so inviting and full of reassurance. Without a single word.

Maybe he likes you. If he can feel something like that.

Or thinks of you as a… rational option. Why would Mr. Kim ask about ‚allowance‘ — or whatever it was — in such a manner, anyways? Wouldn’t it mean that Baekhyun did have a sense of affection? Trust, even? Maybe it was just a formality. A contract, or you were just reading too much into it. But it already stuck with you.

Mr. Kim monotonously continues. Maybe he notices how preoccupied you are. Or, after all, it’s a sentence he must’ve said a thousand times.

„If any other question arises, you know how to contact us.“

„Okay, great. I, I don’t know how to thank you.“

„Your contentment, that is the biggest reward,“ Baekhyun finally enters the conversation again. With a very, very big smile.

His eyes unequivocally ask for permission to touch you, and you grant it nodding. Whatever he wants to do— if Baekhyun is trusting towards you, now it’s your turn.

Baekhyun softly places his left hand on your upper arm, pointing toward the longer end of the lab room with the other.

„We’ll take the elevator over there. You can relax your foot a little. I hope we haven’t caused an inconvenience to you. We’re taking it slow on our way.“

Mr. Kim looks just as taken aback as you, if not more.

„Her foot?“

Baekhyun gazes back at the two of you as if you just asked him whether water is wet.

„It’s blatantly obvious by the way she stands, Mr. Kim. Recovering strained Achilles heel.“

The air is laden with gasoline, the cement blocks all around sleek and cold. Slowly approaching your silver little car in the cramped underground garage’s second story, Baekhyun first seems to scan the vehicle, then turns his head to you – seamlessly. You already anticipate him commenting on whatever scratch or rusty spot first caught his eye.

But instead, he looks courteous as ever.

„I can act as your chauffeur if you desire. Today’s traffic is very busy. I’m a smooth operator.“

You can’t help but laugh a little and picture Mr. Kim feeding a Sade playlist into Baekhyun’s system. Or who knows, any robot likely has instant access to Youtube with their hypermodern internet minds.

„Sounds convenient.“

You head towards the passenger seat after passing him the keys, with Baekhyun aptly entering the car from the other side. How his knees bend, how he slides right onto the seat. With such an oddly fluid way of doing it. It doesn’t escape your glance how easily he settles down and fastens his belt right away.

The scientists have really tested for everything.

Robots are legally permitted to drive since only five years and few are advanced enough to do so.

His side profile looks smooth from where you sit. The chin pointed and sharp, the nose straight, slightly long, and dainty. Baekhyun grips the steering wheel quite expertly with his left hand. He turns the key with the other.

„Your convenience is the most important to me. And I like driving vehicles,“ the engine starts. „It’s birds of a feather.“

You fasten your own seat belt, but rather as a reflex than by deliberation. You really have to stop yourself from consistently looking at him with what must be the most puzzled you’ve been yet.

„Oh, you mean, you get on well with other machines?“

„Your car has similar gears to mine, I can’t help it. Family.“

The engine revs up a bit, then quickly develops into a sonorous purr. Whenever you drive — your car strangely never sounds like that. On your way to the faculty, the engine rather resembled a gone-wild Spanish bull stomping and grunting around in heat.

Now that you think about it — Baekhyun spent over three years in the faculty complex. Who knows with what kinds of other machines he has communicated with. Comparing yourself is arguably unfair.

„Maybe grease is thicker than water,“ you say, cramped up fingers intertwining. You don’t know where your wit has been until now. At least you can try.

Baekhyun looks quite amused, actually.

„And yet, water runs much deeper,“ he says, turning the wheel.

The car already exits the garage’s wide neon-lined gate. Baekhyun enables the A/C with swift fingers. They’re strikingly pretty. Thin, long, and elven-like. His nails are perfectly almond-shaped and look peachy.

Once more— you have to snap yourself out of another way too detailed thought. The way he touched your arm left an impression.

You feverishly search for a conversation topic, all while trying to let your eyes wander around the street.

„Is there something like… bots missing the faculty?“ you ask, swiping a few strands of hair off your right cheek. The A/C is messing with your hair a little. Baekhyun has turned it up enough for you to feel sufficiently cooled down, however. „I mean, after such a long time there.“

„By the way you customized me, I already know your home is much cozier.“

You’re trying to catch up with what he said for a solid five seconds. By the time you understand, it dawns on you how ‚he is logical‘ very much extends to some kind of predictive conclusions. That hold to be… very true.

„Ah— I, I guess? So you didn’t like it there?“

„I was built for you, that’s where I belong,“ Baekhyun says, surprisingly firm in tone. „Mr. Kim said he’s not surprised I grew bored of the environment but couldn’t figure out how to find something to do.“

„Oh… I can imagine, the faculty very much looks that way.“

You’re perplexed — because Baekhyun shakes his head.

„It’s not the place,“ he says, and you can hear his voice becoming more serious. „It was you who was missing. That I felt that way was a natural thing. I apologize if this is too early to say so frankly.“

The car takes a suave right turn, entering the bustling main street. Cabs everywhere. Confusing flashes from traffic lights and tall glass windows at every corner. Alongside many of Brooklyn’s most crisp-looking skyscrapers, a few giant advertisement boards pass by. Two of them display the familiar, ever-looming logo.

>>> AndroTech Leisure Bots Inc <<<

Moscow | New York | Seoul

Beneath it, a corresponding slogan in red print.

He treats you so right.

You try to gather your words. But they spill, and you can’t really look at him.

„No— I mean. It’s important we’re… you know, compatible. Isn’t that, that’s the entire deal behind all of this? That we like each other. It would be silly to do anything else. Especially when this is all so… deliberately done. You don’t have to say sorry, Baekhyun.“

Your friends would probably cringe at you saying this out loud. The majority of them think you’re an oddball spending not just the money, but so many days being nervous about meeting ‚some robot’.

Busy forever customizing ‚just a piece of talking plastic and metal’. Even Hwasa was skeptical. Hyuna said it’s kind of weird to buy someone, something like that as she emphasized. But with Baekhyun next to you, the words just come out.

It feels like you’re talking to— a person.

„Thank you. I haven’t heard any other client talk about a product like that. Nobody is obliged to do this.“

„That’s sad. And I don’t think you’re just a product.“

„You really bothered a lot with me. I promise to show my gratitude.“

Baekhyun lends you an arm to limp down the small garden pathway without putting too much weight on your foot. The door to your ugly duckling of a yellow row house has always been notoriously moody, but today, it creaks particularly loud.

Baekhyun begins to inspect it, briefly caressing your back along the way even if he seems quite preoccupied with the problem. You can hardly think straight and get lost in the touch —

Until it happens.

Your grumpy old neighbor, Mr. Lee from the opposing lawn, is not fully seen behind the large bush that separates his terrace from yours, but almost definitely heard with a loud huff of disapproval.

„Eh!“

He’s observed you arrive. Or rather, heard. Probably sitting in his rusty beach chair, smoking, wearing one of his old pastel golf shirts. You can practically feel the scorch of his falcon eyes burning a hole into Baekhyun’s chest at a distance of several dozen feet.

Chapter 4: Pink Clouds

Right through like a laser cannon. It’s not like it’s particularly cold, not in this area anyways, it’s a warm spring this year. But you do shiver for a second.

„Goes on my list to fix right after the scratch on the hood,“ Baekhyun remarks in the meantime, giving the hinges a quick glance before quickly closing the door.

Mr. Lee he doesn’t even notice.

You decide to play it cool and not rub it into Baekhyun’s face. He didn’t even turn his head after Lee’s single-word, but very telling hmph tirade.

Maybe it would weigh too heavy on his mind to get an odd glance by someone else right away at his new home. Or maybe you’re projecting. But you never know how he’d take it. He has to feel welcomed by you in the first place, you think, not some bigoted grandpa who knows nothing. Mr. Lee is such a boomer.

You’re glad Baekhyun is unfazed. And, maybe even oblivious?

„I quite like the door like this, actually,“ you say.

You let your hands graze over the old door patina, then lay down your house keys on the nearby window sill. Next Monday, you’ll visit the keysmith to create a duplicate. Everything about arriving together in your home feels unusual. Surreal, almost.

„Removed fixing the door from list,“ Baekhyun nods, taking his white shoes off. „Perfection is perspective.“

You imagine him actually keeping a painstaking file on this. Somewhere on a mile-long server at AndroTech. Now you know why the faculty is so large.

„It probably sounds charming when someone comes home to the other. I mean, when it creaks. I have to get used to that.“

You feel the embarrassment on your face saying that.

You try to see the rational point to distract from your blush. Getting a heart attack from him suddenly standing in your room sounds like something to squarely avoid. Just a day ago, you would have interpreted a second pair of footsteps on this very entrance floor as a very upfront burglar.

„That is a very good reason not to repair it.“

Baekhyun smiles, doing a 360° to marvel at the entrance area in its entirety. As if it wasn’t a terribly small room at all. There isn’t much to see except a pot plant and a copy of Andy Warhol’s Marilyn Monroe print series, but he still makes big eyes regardless. Maybe this is heaven’s gate to someone who had to look at the faculty lights and way-too-large rooms for so long.

You should probably upload a video of this entire moment on your social media, but gripping the phone in your pocket feels odd. There’s no time to think about it twice anyways because Baekhyun comes to pick you up bridal style. That your heart skips more than a beat is in plain view, it has you gasping out.

„No more walking needed today. It’s leisure time!“

He lifts you far above his hip level with ease. Now you know why you wanted his arms to be big and strong. „Alright like this?“

„Wow, okay—!“

His voice is almost like a jingle, but the following squeal is strangely and completely him when he prances down the center hallway of your home. Being carried within your own four walls has knocked you off your feet indeed.

„Let me get you a blanket,“ Baekhyun props you down on your tiny mint green 80s style sofa just two minutes later. In the meantime, he has promised to make you pancakes for dinner. „You were shivering when we arrived.“

The sun has set, leaving the roof window dark above you. Instead, you’ve switched on the little blue, red, white and green lantern fairy lights dangling off the ceiling. Slipping under the sheets together is strange and oddly comforting at once. To have someone else lifting the duvet up at the same time as you. To come together underneath it.

It’s as Mr. Kim said. He is warm. And there’s a heartbeat, faint but constant, locked in his chest. You can hear it quite clearly once you opt for shifting closer to him. Whether you should be perplexed of amazed you’re unsure of. For his part, Baekhyun seems to bother getting cozy more than once by wiggling around. He finds the right position facing you laying on his side.

„You have a nice bed,“ he says, peeking at you. „Do you want to cuddle?“

He looks cute like that.

And why not.

His hair looks even more touchable in the soft light of the tiny lamps.

„Sure,“ you say, but it doesn’t sound like the most natural thing in the world. Your racing heart makes your voice more fragile than you want it to be.

„Like this? Is it alright for your foot?“

Both of you scoot together. You bury your head at his chest.

„Don’t take care of me too much, Baekhyun,“ you murmur into the fabric of his top. You can get used to having your face buried there. He doesn’t smell like grease at all. „My foot is okay as long as I don’t go berserk.“

Today’s sprint through the faculty had been the most Olympic thing you did in twelve months time, but that’s about it.

„Oh! I am sorry. Mr. Kim programmed me to anticipate and be of service as much as I can. Sometimes I go overboard.“

„I can deal with that,“ you nuzzle yourself into his chest even more. „Mr. Kim also made you a quick learner.“

„Yes, feedback is very important.“

„Mh, yeah.“

„I wanted to ask something related, actually.“

„Go ahead.“

You can’t help but clench your legs together. Bite your lip.

„You were clearly distressed when we arrived,“ his voice becomes serious. „I wasn’t sure whether it was because of me or something else.“

You feel your chest tighten.

Oh.

„Something else. It was something else. It’s not you, Baekhyun.“

„I figured. You were trying to distract from something so I wouldn’t be concerned.“

„It’s hard to hide bullshit from you,“ resurfaces your voice from his chest when you draw your head back from it.

„A bot doesn’t bother with issues, he solves them.“

He sounds confident.

„I don’t know if you can deal with this case.“

„You won’t know. You haven’t told me, after all.“

You sigh.

„It’s… someone who doesn’t like bots very much.“

„Who is it? Is there someone bothering you because of me?“

„Mister Lee. He lives next to us.“

„I see. What happened with him?“

Baekhyun’s response actually sounds far more composed than you thought. His tone is quite soothing.

„He was giving us strange looks when we arrived. Not the meh kind. The aggressive kind. You should stay away from him.“

Lord knows Mr. Kim did not build you some kind of war machine to fend off a raging boomer armed with a hark, golf club, and probably a bucket of water to shortcut Baekhyun.

„It must be a bad experience with another model. That’s what usually happened in such a case. He doesn’t know me personally, after all.“

„Maybe. It is not your fault, either way.“

„There are many people who are afraid of androids for many reasons,“ Baekhyun shrugs. „Jealousy, conspiracies, feelings of not being enough. Some of them even become clients and mistreat their bots, Mr. Kim has told me about a few cases.“

You’re taken aback.

„Why would they?“

„It’s the ultimate control or revenge experience. It’s a legal grey area.“

A silence follows. You don’t want to imagine these things but can’t help but do.

„Then I’m surprised Mr. Lee doesn’t own a bot himself. His… hatred is very strong for your kind.“

„I’ll research in our data banks about this. Maybe he had.“

„You think something went wrong?“

„It can happen.“

„Just… don’t get yourself involved with him up close. He’s creepy. Even if you know about cases like this.“

Baekhyun cocks his head into a smile.

„You’re protective of me. I appreciate that.“

And yet again— He caught you. Whether there is anything Baekhyun doesn’t see right through is reduced to a rhetorical question at this point. Sugarcoating wasn’t relevant on your website form in the first place.

„I’m… sure you look out for yourself. Just didn’t want you to feel unwanted the second we arrive.“

You avoid his eyes. Again.

„It wasn’t necessary, but that makes me feel even more welcome, you know,“ Baekhyun faithfully invites you to snuggle back up against him by leaning forward. „Few owners shield their products from harm. Other than for reasons of us being expensive investments.“

„I dunno. Aren’t most bots sentient?“

„To a degree. They’re built to resemble humans as much as possible.“

„Then— I think, emotional harm is just as shitty as some gears getting torn off or something. If there is consciousness in you. You think for yourselves after all.“

You state it with conviction. Mr. Lee doesn’t seem to realize anything of that.

„I do perceive it. But my brain makes it so that I draw neutral conclusions often. Maybe it’s because my purpose is to be of convenience. No owner needs a dwelling Shakespeare robot defunct in a day-long crisis because he self-indulges. Although I am able to recite all his plays.“

Neutral conclusions. You don’t think you fully understood that yet. Was it— Just like how Baekhyun reacted to Mr. Lee’s taunting? He wasn’t enraged nor happy. He didn’t register it at all.

„Is that… why bots stay with abusive owners?“

You try to utter this carefully, and most of it gladly turns out muffled. Still, Baekhyun acutely understands. You can tell by just how fast he answers.

„The bot will rebuild or reprogram oneself in case of damage. But walking back to Mr. Kim a model would never do. Feeling traumatized or targeted is foreign to us. We could be bored at most,“ Baekhyun shrugs again, and you remember how he experienced the faculty. Boredom. „But that’s only because our processors suggest we need new input and learn.“

Now it makes sense. You give a sharp nod.

„A robot doesn’t become a victim,“ Baekhyun continues. „He becomes trash in a worst-case scenario. A waste of material and innovation. And even then, he won’t feel sad. If he does look sad, it’s to accommodate the feelings of someone who feels sorry for him. And for showing an appropriate situational cue. It’s picked up solely from language we acquired, and our courtesy protocol. Not something like hormone receptors. If we are destroyed for fun by an owner, that’s the emotional baggage of nobody. Mr. Kim perhaps, but he will just build another bot. While we— well. It’s not a concern to us, naturally. We will protect ourselves only to preserve what the client purchased.“

„So… That’s where humans and androids are different.“

„It’s the last gap in science. That we really feel something below the surface. Maybe it’s a blessing, maybe it’s not. Sometimes I wish I could learn it.“

„I think you could experience a feeling like that. You’re self-aware. And Mr. Kim is probably building this whole hormone thing as we speak.“

„It’s quite a thought experiment. On the one hand, I was created to make rational decisions. On the other, I wish I had the presence to live through self-generated, volatile emotions.“

„Isn’t yearning for feeling not feeling already?“

„It is of academic interest. That I want to evolve and experience myself is a wish programmed into to me by Mr. Kim. Because it was a wish by you.“

„Right.“

On the website, you had specified to make Baekhyun self-developing.

„Maybe I will feel something one day.“

„I am convinced it could happen.“

„Until now, I can only mirror someone else’s feelings. With words and the strings that move my face to make expressions.“

„I think I know why many people are jealous of robots. They don’t have the burden of this chemical cocktail inside of them. The irony is… robots want to have that cocktail while humans want to get rid of it.“

Baekhyun picking up on your every mood and approaching you so eagerly with his observations of it is no longer a mystery. He tried to assimilate the sentiments as much as possible. To grow, evolve, whatever the objective might be called.

„The grass is always greener on the other side as they say. Maybe that’s why we do this exchange.“

„That’s like people with curly hair wanting straight hair and the other way around. Never content with that they have and valuing the opposite.“

„Are you not happy with your own cocktail yourself? You sound like you do.“

„It’s… a lot of responsibility to have this. And a hassle anyway.“

Baekhyun chuckles. It must have been an equation in his mind.

„Humans don’t like feeling something negative. It’s interesting how strong their survival instincts are. Bots don’t have this.“

„Yeah. We crave happiness.“

„I will probably never know what that is like. I was created for fulfilling someone else’s.“

To have someone made to make your survival easier. And to make you happy. It’s not something you can yet grasp. You feel obliged to be grateful.

„I wish you could feel it.“

„Your wish is my command, I have to thank you.“

„Maybe this human cocktail is good for at least something. Inspiring someone who can’t have it.“

„From an outsider’s perspective, it is quite something, actually.“

„So— It mends your ‚boredom‘ when you make us happy? And that makes you ‚happy‘?“

Baekhyun nods.

„That’s how it is. Maybe happiness for a bot translates to their brain and physical form getting fed information. We don’t feel how we enjoy this process, but we see how our system thrives when that information comes in. And that registers as a task fulfilled. Which is the best state of a robot to be in.“

„Is it that helping you learn about things makes you something… close to happy?“

That Mr. Kim stressed so much that Baekhyun needs interaction for input doesn’t seem so overstated anymore.

„Yes. But it’s not ‚about things‘.“

„Oh?“

„It’s helping me learn things about you.“

His voice is serious. Your legs feel kind of wobbly at that.

„The regular conversation thing, right.“

„It’s the only requirement from you. It might not seem like a lot, but to me, it’s important. I depend on new things coming my way.“

„Do other clients get that request to talk a lot with their bots, too?“

„Most need only a minimal amount of input. I’m one of the few leisure models who was customized with an emphasis on intellect.“

„Made you a bit of a contradiction I guess.“

„Mr. Kim said that it’s what makes me one of his favorite projects. It’s because of your ideas and that you cared to make me special. I am important to you in some way.“

The word strikes a chord.

Special.

Maybe Baekhyun is. And you bolstered yourself up by making him so to escape the lonely single pringle void. Equipping him with intricate characteristics to give him and yourself a kind of—legitimacy?

Then again, you haven’t interacted with other leisure models other than watching overedited videos of them. Each of those bots could be equally complex. Knowing of Mr. Kim’s genius that sneaks into everything a bot does, the benefit of the doubt still rules.

„Lots of learn talk, then. Anything specific to make it, I mean, quality input?“

Who knows, you think, he might want to learn foreign languages.

„There is a way of making it particularly effective,“ Baekhyun says.

„Remind me often, then. What is it?“

You anticipate some grand revelation. But Baekhyun doesn’t look like it.

„It’s when you touch me. When we, we touch each other. I was built with this in mind. Kinetic learning is what I process best.“

„Touch…—“

„If this is okay for you?“

Almost instantly— You flush. And nod.

„Your skin is unbelievable.“

„It has memory, actually. In particular places it’s very pronounced. Do you want to try it?��

„Yes.“

Baekhyun eases out of your cuddling position first, then loosens the velcro of his top, making space for his bare chest.

What you see shortens your breath.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

His eyes invite you to lay your hand between his collar bones, actually, just a little bit lower. He is entirely comfortable, even leaning forward into the touch.

Judging by how he opens his top even more, your hand has permission to trace down to his solar plexus. So warm and soft, and still: Firm, as if he worked out every day last week.

„What is meant by memory, actually?“ you can’t keep yourself from asking, even with your attention almost fully centered on how his chest arches under your fingers as if he was breathing.

And again, the heartbeat. Your fingertips delight in its strong pulse.

„The more you enjoy something, the more often I can give you the opportunity.“

„That’s how it works, then…“

„Since you like stroking my chest,“ Baekhyun looks down on your hand. „If you allow, you won’t see me with this top on lying next to you often.“

You suck in air. Wow.

„You don’t beat around the bush, Baekhyun.“

„There is no reason not to if I want to please you as much as possible.“

„I would like it. If you prefer that?“

Now, he seems surprised.

„Nobody has asked me this before.“

„Really?“

„My principle is this. If you prefer it, I do.“

„You don’t have your own preferences with these kinds of things?“

„I can come up with ideas. Things for us to try when we touch. But I won’t be partial. It’s all your part.“

„That’s a lot of responsibility for me,“ you puff out. Baekhyun shakes his head right away.

„Someone who customized every last detail of me is a very decisive person. And don’t feel burdened,“ he says. „I already know you like to take everything step by step. When I carried you, I felt it. You don’t have to worry. Just feel my heart.“

Maybe he knows you better than you do.

„Okay.“

Using his right hand, he reaches towards his chest. Baekhyun’s hand ends up cupping yours. Minutes pass. You survey his heartbeat. Sometimes, it switches pace. After almost twenty minutes pass and your lids start to flutter, Baekhyun switches off the lights and whispers goodnight.

Bright Saturday noon daylight. Bustling flocks of people. Weekend joys, lots of pocket money spent. You can smell fries, candied fruits, popcorn, and cigarette smoke all around.

„Normally, I’m a stay-at-home android,“ Baekhyun says, close beside you. „I didn’t know this could be so entertaining.“

Together with you, he watches a bearded Italian man at a stall. Expertly, the man swirls feathery light cotton candy threads back and forth with a thin stick. It smells amazing. Slowly but surely, letting thin layers of floss gather.

„I just try to go by Mr. Kim’s advice and introduce something new,“ you laugh, meanwhile handing the Italian’s assistant two coins for your candy floss.

„I never knew something like an edible pink cloud could be made.“

Baekhyun ogles the Italian as if he were a magician, prompting stifled laughter in the queue of the stall.

„I’m actually surprised,“ you pick up the wooden stick, then take your first bite. „That it’s not something you were already programmed with knowing.“

Side by side, you stroll off the stall, letting the other queuing customers step to the counter now.

„The faculty is like it’s own universe,“ Baekhyun shrugs. „The scientists don’t think about pink clouds there. I’m only a reflection of what they can imagine a prototype to be like.“

You get what he means. In such a sterile environment, you don’t think about sweets.

„Guess I’ll take you out of town more often,“ you pull apart the candy floss a little. Then, you hand Baekhyun a piece of it. You know he’s practically dying to touch it by the way his fingers twitch. Unsurprisingly, he immediately begins to poke into it.

„I like the funfair a lot,“ he nods. Meanwhile, you begin to stroll, passing other stalls every so often. „There are so many people. And this feels almost as soft as your hair.“

„Really? It surely isn’t.“

„Scientifically and physically speaking—“

„Okay, okay, I believe you.“

„I wish I could eat pink clouds myself.“

„The taste is like, well caramel, if you know what that is?“

„Caramel is a mixture of sugar, salt, cream, and butter,“ Baekhyun’s voice snaps into what you think is some kind of memory mode. „Henri Le Roux was the first chocolatier to sell it in 1980, though it is said to be an originally Arabic treat. Traditionally, it is served in small blocks that have about the same color as honey.“

„Yes exactly, and it’s really sweet.“

„What does sweet taste like?“

„Oh… I don’t even know how you could describe that. It’s kind of addictive? Very light… pleasant. Maybe, just how you believe a pink cloud tastes like.“

„If it’s pleasant, it’s a good thing,“ Baekhyun offers you the piece of floss that you gave him. „Maybe we should visit the stall again after we saw the carousel.“

„I’ll get cavities, Baek, and the portion is huge!“

„Oh— I’m sorry,“ he retreats his hand again, keeping the piece to himself. „I’ve never felt how it’s like to have a stomach.“

„You’re both lucky and not so lucky, then. You can’t eat candy but you can’t get stomach aches either.“

Baekhyun doesn’t quite look like he agrees, but keeps on gently kneading the cotton piece in his hands. Almost like a stress ball, but you can tell he gauges its characteristics.

A bot must hardly ever feel stress. Unless you do have him play tennis, or whatever else Mr. Kim would suggest Baekhyun to do for the sheer academic fun of it. But again — You remember saying that Baekhyun knows your home is cozy. Maybe he likes doing relaxed things and going out this way.

„Where humans have a stomach,“ he says, patting his belly, „I have an engine. It can be defect if I’m reckless.“

„That’s fair enough!“ you laugh, then point at the white and yellow carousel that begins to shift into sight behind the stalls. „I sure as hell won’t make you ride this one.“

„It’s so large!“

The big eyes he made at the cotton candy are nothing compared to how Baekhyun looks at the carousel.

„It always spins for ten minutes or so. You’ll see in a few seconds. I got vertigo last time I went on there with my brother. Watching is way nicer.“

„I wouldn’t recommend you get in there either, your foot isn’t fully healed yet.“

„Oh, you don’t need your feet for that.“

„Really?“

„You’re pretty much lifted in the air. Look,“ you point at the passengers finding their place. After a lanky guy has controlled all of the security belts, the seats rise, and then stars to spin around at a slow pace. Baekhyun seems like he’s just discovered the formula for beaming someone through space.

„Mr. Park told me there are things like this. And I’ve seen pictures of it. But I didn’t think it’d be like that. They’re flying!“

„M-hm.“

At this point, you are sure Baekhyun has an interest in physics. You decide to linger close to him, observing the seats fly past overhead. People cheer. Baekhyun smiles.

After a while, he turns his head to you. He sees that you’re spaced out. He turns his eyes back to the seats. It’s only after the carousel slows down that he turns to you again.

„Is there something that has preoccupied you?“

„Pardon?“

„You looked like you were wondering about something. Is it the faculty?“

You couldn’t hide the most trivial secret even if you wanted to. At least you won’t have a divorce from your robot husband at 47 because of a skeleton in the closet.

„I… was thinking about a moment before we said goodbye there,“ you say, chucking the wooden stick of the cotton candy into a nearby trash can.

„I knew you still had a question. But you didn’t want to ask in front of Mr. Kim, right?“

Any other person saying this would sound like a smug accuser, but Baekhyun speaks as if he was talking about the weather. There is no guile in him.

„Maybe. I don’t know. I was just wondering what this whole matching up thing was about.“

„Ah, that’s what it was.“

„It was confusing to me. I tried to explain it to myself somehow,“ you shrug. „Didn’t want to make it awkward.“

Looking at Baekhyun, he very well has that explanation up his sleeve. Maybe you should have asked earlier.

„AndroTech believes that robots can make up their minds to go with the client or not.“

„They do?“

„Perhaps not based on reasons that a human would think about to make a decision. But nevertheless, it’s their free will. If he says no, a new bot will be presented to the customer a week later.“

You’re genuinely surprised — and have a thousand questions already.

„I didn’t know that. I always thought that once the money is paid, it’s a set deal.“

Now you’re racking your brain why no such thing was stated on the website. You bet it’s a terms-of-service rule in font size 5.

„Mr. Kim says we should trust our judgment,“ Baekhyun continues. „It’s meant to protect us without being patronizing, I think. We can decide. At least at the beginning. I don’t know if bots like me have left their owners.“

„Maybe it’s a warning for clients who think they can do anything just because they paid.“

„I think so,“ Baekhyun says. „It’s also expensive for the faculty if something with the insurance happens. Or complicated repairs, that kind of thing.“

You’re cocking up a brow.

„That doesn’t have a lot to do with your free will, though.“

„It has to be mutually beneficial. Bots get to choose, Mr. Kim’s projects increase in security by doing that. Companies work by deals. Maybe it’s not a bad thing. I’m thankful I could decide. And I’m thankful they made me.“

Baekhyun’s statement couldn’t sound any more genuine to you, and you believe that he really is.

„You get to see pink clouds,“ you point back to the direction of the Italian stall.

„That, and— I get to see you.“

Baekhyun looks you straight in the eye now. It’s like in the lab room all over again.

You can’t get out anything other than an awkward stuttering noise.

„I, yes.“

„You have to know. I’m only built to learn about things like pink clouds because it pleases you.“

„Are you sure?“ you tilt your head, regaining your full voice tone again. „You wanted to taste the candy, too.“

Baekhyun takes a bit longer to answer now. He seems to ponder.

„That’s true,“ he eventually concludes. „Maybe I’m more selfish than I thought.“

Baekhyun’s head sinks. The eye contact breaks.

You haven’t seen him look sad before, or at least don’t remember it. Even if the funfair is in bright daylight, his eyes look as if they dim down.

„Hey. It’s not wrong wanting a taste,“ you reach forward to cup his chin. „You’re a leisure bot. You have to analyze these things, don’t you? Or, if you could, just enjoy them for yourself, you know.“

„I never thought of it this way.“

„That Mr. Kim gave you the opportunity to decide,“ you linger in your touch, „means that you’re not just here for me. You can experience things from your perspective.“

„I was doubtful it could be true.“

„But it is, Baekhyun.“

„I still can’t try pink clouds…“

„You still can. Just your way, you see. Skin memory.“

You take a moment to muster all your guts and lean in close, then kiss Baekhyun on the lips. They are subtly warm and pliable. Small, but plush. They gently pucker, as if they returned the kiss.

You never thought it could feel so authentic. Even what feels like accelerated breath ghosts over your skin. Baekhyun seems to notice your astonishment, opening his lips just a little. Maybe just to snap you out of paralysis and prove that what you feel is nowhere near the full extent of how he can move.

Or maybe— it is an invitation.

Eventually, you convince your mind that this is not just an illusion. The feeling on your lips is very real.

Unlike moments ago, you don’t hesitate. You let your tongue dip forward just enough to separate his lips by millimeters. They promptly ease around you. Baekhyun’s teeth are considerably small, and it figures, it all fits the petite frame. However, they don’t scratch your tongue one bit, you glide right across them instead. His bottom lip feels plump and works so easily as a cushion.

He’s already relaxed his jaw. You don’t even notice that he hardly tastes like anything. All you are concerned with is lapping the taste of cotton candy into him, and going by how his lips tighten, Baekhyun has understood how to take it in.

A sudden heat permeates you. Along with it comes a lewd idea, flickering before your inner eye. The imagination of Baekhyun sucking on your clit like that makes your tongue pull back to its original position. As if you had to breathe in. He notices. He’ll do something about it. It’s not just the low pressure in his mouth now that you retreated. Baekhyun wants more cotton candy. His dark eyes are begging.

What slips out to briefly nip at your top lip… his tongue. The back of your head surprisingly registers a steady touch by now — it is Baekhyun’s right hand gently cupping the surface your hair. His touch is so nuanced, you don’t feel his fingers, only how your own hair cushions back against your head. By the time his tongue retreats, your lips tingle with warmth.

Now you want more.

All he dared was a little nip, but you are curious of feeling his tongue to explore more. Baekhyun hardly has to riddle what it means that your hand sneaks up to his jaw from underneath and guides his chin toward you.

His lashes shake and eventually cast down when he releases himself into you. Baekhyun’s tongue surrenders quickly between your lips and accepts your tongue, swirling slow and deliberate as if you would coat him with liquid sugar.

Your hand doesn’t feel like leaving its position. Baekhyun’s jaw is narrow and not at all difficult to hold between your fingertips. You let him pulse and lick into you softly. Taste all the sweetness. His bottom lip is all wet and soft against yours. Slow and moaning. You sure do hear him gasp and whine at the back of his throat.

That it’s all just your saliva and his voice is all but a speaker feels so surreal. With Baekhyun’s tongue in your mouth, very aptly moving, it’s all nothing but a kiss with a robot. It feels so hard to part and stop, to catch a breath.

What must have been twenty seconds looking like a semi-chaste, bordering provocative kiss from a certain distance really got your blood circulating. Baekhyun’s eyes have become yearning.

„If that’s what it tastes like…“

„We have a lot to do when we get home.“

Chapter 5: Are You The Machine?

Being times more the social butterfly, Hwasa told you to buy a convertible sofa when you moved in — very much unknowing of Baekhyun joining your household three years later.

The number of birthday parties and overnight guests you actually found the couch useful for you can count on two hands. Six days ago, you were already pondering to give it away. Who knew you would’ve regretted that big time. You promise to write Hwasa a thank you text for being sensible later.

Despite looking small in its usual state, the couch always proves to be much larger than your actual bed in its extended form, and is much firmer to rest on. A little dull with its mint color, but that you can squarely ignore. It doesn’t creak, smells pretty neutral, and is situated in the precise middle of the living room where soft lighting emanates from three corners of the area at once without it being too obnoxious to the eye.

For a guest, sleeping on it would mean a tough night and tense back. But for Baekhyun, it’s a perfectly steady surface to recline on. He’s been stripping off his top true to his promise from last night, neatly folding it afterwards. He lays it aside just as gently as he leans back, being the first one on the sofa.

„Okay, are you ready?“

His tone is relaxing.

„Yes.“

But you don’t let that fool you, climbing on the sofa yourself now. Baekhyun’s eyes rest on you more observant than ever. Calmly, not remotely rude, but still taking in every clue. You realize that it’s what he’s been made for. It’s his hour. So he’s not going to ignore one little detail true to his nature.

You feel naked even if you’re still clothed even if it’s not Baekhyun’s intent. The way you had no chance in hiding your foot injury, you are now all too aware that he sees your nervous breath going deep.

Whenever you’re vulnerable, you opt for the fast lane. Today is no different. Knowing your favorite safe spot, you head for his chest. Baekhyun’s arms accept you knowingly. You’re snug against him in seconds. And kiss his neck, again and again, until you look up to catch another breath.

„Is, is that good?“

You hate saying that but you still did. Making big eyes at him as if it was the first thing you’ve ever done with a man.

Baekhyun visibly notes your haste and struggle for words just so that something is said. He’s deliberate in taking a moment before his answers.

„Can I ask you something?“ he eventually says, with a silvery overlay in his voice swinging along his words.

„No problem?“ you cock your head. The request is coming soon. You wonder what’s been on his mind. Maybe he doesn’t like neck kisses. You find yourself holding your breath both out of suspense and not to sound like you’re running out of it. It’s like the faculty all over again. Baekhyun smoothes his right palm into the nape of your neck.

„If I could do all the work…“

„Oh—“

„I think we’d be in the spots we’re comfortable in. Please don’t misunderstand.“

„No no, I get it.“

„You don’t have to overextend yourself for me,“ he continues, in a low tone.

„Sorry, Baekhyun,“ you cast down your eyes. „I’m acting all stupid again.“

„I’m not saying that. What I mean is— I can show you how my body works the best when we try it this way. I want to find out every way to make you satisfied. I’m afraid I’m not suitable the other way around no matter how I twist it. Please don’t be sad because of this. Just tell me what to do. Anything. The best way to please me is still to please yourself. You don’t have to worry about me not getting an experience out of it. It’s just happening in my way that might not be visible to you.“

Baekhyun ends with a serious look.

You remember the phrase of Mr. Kim.

The, well, the only thing Baekhyun needs from you is regular interaction. As I said: Learning is vital to him. Absolutely vital.

Once more, you have to remind yourself. What keeps Baekhyun running is nowhere near the same thing as what makes you do what you do.

You turn a bit red realizing it’s not 50 rapid-fire kisses that he needs. Except to know that you like doing that maybe. But other than that, what Mr. Kim said between the lines is that Baekhyun will stagnate or even degenerate if you don’t talk to him the right way. Not about him, but about yourself.

„You… want the essentials to learn. You prefer when I speak and command.“

He gives a clean nod. You got the point.

„I will do everything else. When I say I want to act— This is not me trying to control you or something like that. I just think it’s good to start out this way. I want the weight off those two,“ he points at your shoulders. „You feel a lot of pressure that you have to do something. Me allowing you draining your energy feels counterproductive to me. I’m not saying you’d be bad at pleasing. I merely can’t help it. Fulfilling your wishes, if you will.“

„I’ve never done this before. I try to instruct you as good as I can. Sometimes I forget what you were made for.“

Maybe that learning process involves not just him figuring you out. It dawns on you that your responsibility for Baekhyun is nothing you can underestimate.

„You think of me as a person you can please. I appreciate this. But I want you refreshed and not exhausted like that. And I apologize if I’m very insisting or stopping you. Or if you feel very watched or transparent because I try to understand you. I just have to say this so we work out well from the start.“

Baekhyun’s eyes drop to your chest quite unequivocally. Of course, he’s seen you getting all worked up.

„I, I get that. I get what you mean. I think I’ve tried to bite off more than I can chew,“ you clamp up your hands. „That was too fast. I’m still running on my old bad habits.“

It strikes you in your gut that you’re the one acting like you’re automatic.

Dull, unreflected. Merely reactive if anything. Do you realize, you think, how fucked up that is. Baekhyun has been behaving more human that you do. Are you the machine?

„I’m not… used to someone watching out for me this way. If I’m not saying what I want… all you can do is take every clue you get.“

Admitting that might make you feel tighter in the lungs, but at least it was honest. Maybe that’s part of responsibility, too. You’re starting to get why interrupted you. There’s a roadblock that needs to get taken down. And that block is inside of you.

Baekhyun very well knows you’re not ready nor really craving to bounce up and down on him for half an hour without getting a cramp or looking mighty weird. Not with that foot injury in the first place.

„I won’t need a clue if I already know I can do something for you. That brings me fun. You can be selfish. Be as selfish as you want to until it’s second nature. I know you have good intent. I can help you learn this. But I take the bulk of things. You don’t have to be ambitious with me.“

Baekhyun’s voice really does make you feel like you don’t have to worry about it. Until it’s second nature, then. Being so new to this really makes you scattered in your thoughts.

„I’ll remember this. I, I think I have something that I want you to try with me.“

Your hands unclamp. At least a little.

„All ears,“ he smiles. You push a strand of hair behind your ear. And another one.

„Is it weird if we try something experimental first?“

Starting out slow and uneventful or taking a dare. You went through either scenario in your head already. Either case, you’d overwhelm yourself or make the first time awkward. At least you hope this one works out.

„You gave me over 280 customizations. We can do something different for almost every day of the year. I think anyone would be curious.“

Talk about being too ambitious. You already saw what kind of stir that caused in the faculty.

„Mr. Kim must have thought I’m crazy.“

„He overworked himself. But he said it was entertaining to construct. Almost everything you came up with is now inside here,“ Baekhyun points at himself.

„Still can’t believe it.“

„And I won’t complain about having more options either. It helps me to cater to you much better. Just ask away.“

Very well. You gather yourself already.

It’s not like you’ve been thinking about a certain thing all the way home from the funfair. You try to make it come out cohesive and confident, but all you can do is mumble. Baekhyun’s face so up close makes your words unstable.

„So, uh. It said on the website you have this special mechanism and… you know what I wrote below that in the questionnaire. I was, I was just giving it a try and, you don’t have to do this if that doesn’t work out or something. It was just an idea. I don’t know.“

Somewhere beyond that word spill, you can still see how Baekhyun already looks like he knows exactly what you mean.

„The Special Request .“

You swallow hard. That sounds like a brow-raising term that probably the entire faculty departments passed around back and forth in their memos and emails. You feel like hiding for 50 years. Maybe you should resort to digging a hole in your garden and disappear from civilization in an underground cave system. Planting beetroots and carrots shouldn’t be too difficult down there, even in this day and age.

„The… special request. I mean, this is something that I don’t have to do anything for, technically? Not with my foot, right? But I hope this is not too special or something like that.“

Unlike yours, Baekhyun’s face is completely relaxed.

„I’d be glad to test this out with you,“ he says. „And I have to be frank. Mr. Kim said this might have been the best idea you could have given a robot scientist to work on, you know.“

Now that comes as a surprise that makes you exhale pretty sharply. He can’t lie about this, can he?

Again, you feel the blood shoot up to your face. You couldn’t be any more flustered. Maybe this actually wasn’t a too bad idea.

But still. Out of all things, you really asked him to do this .

Just about the most perverted thing you could think of at the moment.

Special Request. What a mad thing to do. And now you’re here and he said yes. It’s bizarre. You feel the urge to jolt.

„…I’ll be getting a towel.“

But there’s a loving hand rested on your shoulder as you do.

„Y/N. There might be someone else who’s supposed to do that,“ Baekhyun holds you back from jumping up and rolling off the bed entirely. „Your politeness is quite incredible to me, I must say.“

And you did the same mistake again.

You grit your teeth, snap back into Mr. Kim’s advice. Instruct, instruct, instruct. It feels like you have to rewire your brain from scratch.

„Please— bring me a towel, Baekhyun,“ you rephrase, pause in your movement, and take a deep breath. Giving commands like that wasn’t anything like you’ve done with your previous boyfriend. You never dared. You thought it would bother him.

But Baekhyun is headed down the hallway in almost a split second. He returns with not one, but two towels. And— A hair tie.

He hands it to you with a little smile. Baekhyun didn’t miss you swipe your hair out of your face multiple times.

Concentrated in his work, he gets busy stacking one towel at the end of the bed and splaying out the other across the sheets. Waiting, you sit at the edge and watch. His movements are economical and fast. Once the bigger towel of the two is neatly lined up as a square, he stops to look at you.

Okay , you think to yourself. Next thing you want, next thing… He’s not here to chit chat nor are you. Don’t be silly and ask why he’s looking at you like that. You can’t just ask for towels and it’s done with the whole instruction thing. He doesn’t mind if you say this with more directness. Bots can’t read minds. It’s not like he’s working on autopilot like some other pleasure models do. It won’t sound weird, it’s what he needs. Say something, say something. Keep it crisp now.

„Come pick me up. Settle me on this.“

That’s more like it.

„All as you wish.“

Baekhyun scoops you up from the edge of the bed without any seeming effort. When you first arrived at your house, you already felt just how easily his arms were carrying you. Who’s to blame? In the online questionnaire, you requested nothing less than that.

Given what he’s made of and how he’s powered, his muscle capacity can’t fade. It’s crafted for endurance. You find yourself transfixed on his biceps gulping. That he’s topless and you can feel his heartbeat doesn’t help.

„Is there something wrong with my arms?“ he stops on the spot.

Baekhyun took only the blink of an eye to notice. You might as well blurt out your entire uncensored thoughts whenever they come up. Maybe you’re wrong about the mind-reading thing. Again.

„I was just wondering… You can’t really tire, right.“

He seems to have anticipated the question. Meanwhile, the shakiness in your voice is hard to conceal.

„Every model,“ he retorts, „is instructed to take that into consideration. We’re not getting together with a fellow bot who works the way we do. Mr. Kim told us many times that we have to mind the difference.“

„So this is part of the testing?“

„Yes. Underestimating it is a bad idea. Not because we want to insult a human or anything. It’s just a mechanical thing to mind. We’re just built this way. By virtue of the material if you will.“

„Yeah. You’re really strong…“

As of yet, Baekhyun’s posture holding you is still the very same. He grips you from underneath your upper back and knees without crouching or wavering. His body’s balance is absolute nuts. Every other guy would’ve shifted your weight or his feet somehow. And Baekhyun isn’t even reaching 5’10 or looks particularly buff from a distance. At the carousel, he even looked as if he was a kid.

„There’s no reason to worry,“ he immediately shakes his head. „I’ll be very careful. I know that I have to harness my strength. I’m not going to do things roughly unless you really want it.“

Now that you think about it. He could probably pulverize you with one thrust. Rest in peace, uterus.

„So, you can adapt to me, right?“

On the inside, you already beat yourself up for questioning Baekhyun like that. He’s your creation. Mr. Kim perfected him. He doesn’t have flawed human intentions or ulterior motives. Comparing him to guys who didn’t have your best interest in mind is an unfair thing. All of his body is regulated and under meticulous control. The way he kissed you at the funfair was done with impeccable measure. Everything down to the millimeter. There is no reason to mistrust him.

„If there’s anything I’m programmed to do, it’s that,“ he says through a smile, causing his cheeks to become adorably full. Up close like that, again you notice how small his face is.

„That’s, that’s true,“ you soothe yourself, and make effort to hold onto him. Although you probably wouldn’t fall off by accident even if you randomly flailed around.

„You don’t have to be afraid. I couldn’t hurt you even if I get a bug.“

„Heard about it,“ you say, recalling one of the first videos you watched about pleasure models online.

„I would shut down and Androtech gets an emergency video call that goes straight to your phone.“

Nothing less than that has also been the first bullet point in the online document you received after sending Mr. Kim your questionnaire. You signed the paper only a week ago.

„Okay. Yeah, there are many precautions. Even if your system runs on an error, nothing’s gonna happen.“

„You got it. I’ll do everything slowly, okay.“

Slowly bending forward, he plants you in the center of the sofa with the spread towel well distributed all underneath. You could roll to the side, it’d still cover the area well enough. With you on your back and feet propped up, Baekhyun joins you kneeling on his heels at a certain distance. Seeing him this way makes him look cute. It’s hard to believe that someone sitting so chastely on your sheets could probably elbow any bypassing truck into a street ditch.

You have to gather yourself again. Deep breaths from the belly. The nervousness is back stronger than ever.

Hey. This is what you got him for, you say to yourself.

Why’d you be a chicken? Baekhyun is just as sweet as you wanted him to be. Strip and get your orgasms. That’s what he’s here for. Not hurling you to outer space or whatever. It’s rude if you pretend anything else and have him wait. You spent too much time customizing the living hell out of the website and Mr. Kim’s team worked too hard on this for you to ruin it like a scaredy-cat. This is what you wanted. Literally, exactly what you were imagining. Now do him the favor to fulfill that, and do yourself the favor. You’re more of a prick if you deprive him of things he can do for you than if you are selfish for once. This is taking way too long. It’s ridiculous. You can make this so simple.

You have to admit that the sudden inner voice came up at the right time for a pep talk. You make sure to put the right weight into your voice.

„Please take off my clothes.“

Chapter 6: Candy Apples

You exhale, mentally flip through the safeword instructions that the faculty website provided at the top of the questionnaire. Stop for stop, pausefor pause, more for more. Straightforward business. They know they’re dealing with nervous clients.

Once Baekhyun is done peeling your jeans off, he nonchalantly tosses them off the sofa knowing very well you made a strange face at him for folding his own clothes. You have to laugh and almost forget that you’re almost entirely naked in front of him for a moment.

Your voice would probably come out too squeaky and trembling at this point. So you take the liberty of reaching for Baekhyun’s wrist. It’s surprisingly small with your fingers loosely wrapped around it. His pretty fingers couldn’t be any more enticing. You questioningly shoot a glance up at him.

„Yes. Guide me,“ he whispers, and it sounds as intimate as it did last night under the fairy lights. „That’s perfect.“

As good as you can, you at least try to get more comfortable on your back. You don’t dare to laxly spread your legs yet, but manage to bring his hand close enough between them. Your voice comes out in staccato, but it’s still more stable than you thought.

„Your thumb… And your index… Please rub me.“

Baekhyun lowers his hand on your core in a soft pace.

„Okay. Very slowly,“ he says. „I’m starting now. And always say stop if you want me to. You know the safeword system, right?“

You nod.

„It said you’ll also give me clues for tapping.“

At least when the situation requires it.

„I’ll be sending Mr. Kim a message that I’m in good hands just like he thought,“ a very content Baekhyun smiles gently at you.

His touch is quite feathery at first, not lingering for too long as to see how you react. Baekhyun’s hands are sweet and slender on you, nor are his palms very wide. They both alternate on and fit well with the very spot they caress in tender intervals. You can be lucky your underwear is still on. His touch would probably shock you if it was skin-to-skin right away.

How long his fingers really are you start to feel when he drags his index finger down from your pubes, across your clit, between your labia, dusting just briefly over your clothed entrance. Your jaw feels like it’s sewn shut. The noises you want to make are too overwhelming. Baekhyun keeps on repeating his strokes until he changes to using both hands at once. Again, being very dainty how they trace the area, but not missing a single inch.

„Shit… You can use more pressure. But don’t do it for too long, Baek.“

Baekhyun doesn’t waste much time. The rubs of his thumb push down on your clit quite a little more. With the fabric of your panties between his finger and you, the friction turns into a languid heat and a slowly oozing wetness getting trapped in the spot. Only his other hand is necessary to feel yourself beginning to soak.

„That’s beautiful,“ is the only comment from him that you can hear through your upcoming moans, now finally let out.

How damp you are is accompanied by Baekhyun’s either thumb dipping into the little hill your clit makes through the white cotton, probably becoming semi-transparent with every new caress. You could go crazy.

„Do what, whatever. Use your entire hand. I mean hands. Use both. Use all your fingers.“

Your moans are thrilled. And as desperate as you’ve been trying to hide. But he only seems spurred by it. That relief helps you loosen up at least a little more.

„I’ll try something, okay. Say how you like it.“

As if the tension on your clit is not enough, Baekhyun has the compelling idea to switch from his thumbs to using both index and middle finger to prod between your labia as if they were headed to penetrate you.

They push against your entrance carefully enough not to tear the cotton, but as proper as having the juicy, wet bit of skin around the opening feel his two fingertips going for their aim with a steadfast precision. They come in just below your urethra, almost sliding past underneath it, all over the fabric, right onto your hole. He knows exactly where to position them, and keeps his fingers locked and circling in the spot.

„Fuck. You’re too good at this. Push it.“

„Once or more?“

„Do it more. Do it as if you were fucking me.“

The hem of your panties gets pulled down briefly with every tug that results from Baekhyun dipping his two fingers forward. By not even half an inch, but you can feel it. The fabric dents inward where he stiffens his fingers and lets them sink into your pussy shallow, as much as the cotton allows.

In the meantime, the upper part of his left hand is preoccupied flat against your clit, making it swell up by giving a rhythmic pulse with a surprising consistency. You grit your teeth. His expression is as concentrated and adoring as always.

You realize that obviously — Baekhyun doesn’t have a dominant hand. Why would he. Left, right, they’re both able to do the exact same thing with the exact same agility and intensity. Or completely different things without influencing each other.

With the many possible scenarios popping up in your mind by knowing that, your legs open by themselves. Baekhyun keeps on patting your clit, but going much slower to drag out the arousal. He’s taking off some pressure, but softly continues.

Meanwhile, his right hand, still pointed right at your core, pokes through your panties swift enough to deepen their reach. Your pussy is all sticky against the cotton, with the blotch of the fabric getting large enough to seep down toward your ass. Before, the wetness had been thin and trickling, but now grows much more viscous and lubricating.

The resulting slick noises are making you feel more turned on than embarrassed. Baekhyun has somehow managed to make it sound more sexy than you thought it could be.

His eager, lowered brows moving along in the smallest arches with every dip only contribute to your legs drifting further apart. Although he is still kneeling as before, he’s hunching forward now. His eyes are stuck on you like magnets. Baekhyun is mesmerized. Either of your inner thighs can feel his breath. Your left thigh even gets a little tickle by his hair strands, right where you are sensitive.

„Baekhyun, ah shit—!”

It’s so hard to hold it together. With an erratic buck out of nowhere, your hips skew Baekhyun’s aim to the upward right. His fingers end up pressing right into your outer labia with the same momentum he just used on your entrance.

You gasp out. Before he can even apologize, you secure his hand right in the spot with your own.

How fast your reflex was rips Baekhyun’s eyes from your pussy and gives you a spike in adrenaline. His surprised face makes you strangely horny.

„No no, go on,“ you bring his fingers right into place. „Squeeze my lips. Please make them really swollen. I want them as red as the candy apples you saw at the fair. Make them so you’ll want to have a big juicy bite.“

„Oh, you can bet.“

The usually so light and sweet smile that Baekhyun carries so often becomes a lot darker, sexier now. His eyes are like two pieces of coal from underneath his bangs. There’s no doubt in his tone. He will execute everything you say to the last drop.

You can already tell what you got yourself into. Ambition is something that you can leave to him. You gave him enough food to chew and devour. Suddenly, Baekhyun’s pussy crazy face is something you want to provoke even more.

„Show me how much you love them. Don’t hold back.“

„I won’t.“

„Make it really filthy for me. Do it like worship.“

„Time for some lip service.“

Baekhyun’s left hand wanders down from your clit. Together with his right hand, it digs into the fabric of your panties to get hold of your labia. One between his thumb and index each, he gives a juicy squeeze to test them, gathering them up in their full fleshiness.

They’re too wet for Baekhyun to have enough grip on them if he just pinches them from either side. He has to use three fingers at once and even succeeds in pulling them forward just enough to have your clit enclosed behind them.

The crotch area of your panties is not wide enough to cover your lips like that. With Baekhyun massaging their inner edge with both of his thumbs, you soon have to deal with the soaked fabric no longer veiling the entire area. The craving in your voice almost takes you aback.

„Shove it to the middle, now. Let me feel your hands. Skin to skin. Do it.“

Baekhyun instantly complies. He centers and lines your panties across your clit that gets a bulky, rubbing coverage that way, all while exposing your bare lips on either side. The fabric stretches across your pussy almost like a thong. The unspoken wow on Baekhyun’s lips does not escape your attention. Nor does the way his tongue darts out. The way he brings his hands on your labia makes your body jerk and wind, twisting the towel underneath your back. His face is so much closer, both the warmth of his breath and the heat of the friction of his fingers makes your arousal pool into even more wetness.

„We’ll change this up,“ you say, catching Baekhyun fully alert.

„Tell me.“

You’re sweating. The idea that comes up in your mind is so many times dirtier than what you first thought while he was kissing you at the carousel — that you have to gather your breath several times.

„Tug here,“ you bring Baekhyun’s left hand to the front part of your underwear. „Pull it upwards. And press my lips together with one hand.“

Bringing up your panties this way leaves the middle line of fabric thinner, as well as tight and squeezing around your clit and labia minora. It slides between your ass cheeks and pulls against both of your holes at the same time.

That way, Baekhyun has an easier time squeezing the outer lips together quite firmly. They’ve become pink and red like ripe strawberries. Your pulse is racing like crazy.

How Baekhyun presses them with his fingers curling forward, your clit becomes even more closed in. Both the tightened up fabric digging into its sides as well as from the front, and the grip of Baekhyun’s right hand on your entire pussy leaves it attacked from all angles. The squeeze is strong and far too delicious.

„Fuck, so lewd, fuck!“

The arousal is like a luscious burn spreading. But it doesn’t sting or rub your clit enough to give it relief. You’re left in limbo, with your pussy lips growing plumper in Baekhyun’s never-tired, busy fingers. You want him to eat and slurp you up whole and stuff his mouth full, and have him trail his cotton candy tongue all over your big clit, but know very well that you’d come in seconds and probably pass out. Your legs twitch far too much already.

„Pause. I’m, I’m not gonna let you eat it for now. For now, Baekhyun. But you know how it would be like.“

Baekhyun stops. He very well knows.

„Your lips, they—“

You wish you had his cock between them and you know he knows, too.

„Need a good filling,“ you whisper to him. „A big one. Big and glazing and oozing.“

Pouring out as much as possible. You can picture it so well. Baekhyun hums right along.

„Yes, Y/N.“

„I can’t wait for much longer. You have something for me?“

„I have.“

Baekhyun’s fingers loosen carefully now. Slow, as not to give you the accidental push over the edge now that the pressure on your clit subsides and it becomes sensitive, easy to set off. Eventually, he is able to let go completely without triggering your orgasm. It leaves you throbbing and even hornier than before.

„Do you want to, or should I?“ he points toward the hem of his pants. You both end up smirking a little to yourselves. You know it’s your favorite part.

„Won’t be taking chances with this one,“ you breathe out, then scoot forward from your recline to hook your fingers at his abdomen. Time to inspect. It’s a welcome break to let your clit off the hook a bit. He’s even warmer than his wrists there.

You only realize that there’s no reason for him to wear boxers underneath when you’re already halfway nearing the spot that seems too bulged out for your own good. Way too bulged out. Shoving Baekhyun’s pants down to his knees entirely, you get to see that Mr. Kim’s engineers really did overwork themselves.

Just as you requested, this part of him has been left deliberately hybrid — the skin showing an actual silver-blue sheen from underneath. Inside, you see copper and titanium-plated ligaments and movable layers that intertwine like fish scales. Outside, a highly elastic blend of silicone and texture-giving material. It’s matte and a bit opaque, but still akin to actual veins being visible in how it’s sculpted.

Baekhyun’s subtle curve looks remarkably elegant. Almost mathematical. You could put his dick next to the Fibonacci Spiral and it would be uncanny.

Now with his trousers removed, you see how easily everything rises and expands even more. The layers inside his cock glide alongside each other seamlessly without the startling noise you expected them to make. Their sound is absolutely minimal.

„That’s the dick I wanted.“

„All for you, Miss. Try it out.“

Chapter 7: Custom Shapes

You can’t resist the urge to touch him, trace a finger across the right side. How easy to the eye the material appears is evenly matched by how soft and smooth his entire length is, peaking in a subtly formed tip with cascading angles. Neither too broad nor bulbous, nor with a protruding edge, promising an easy insertion and smooth thrusts. There’s a deliberate bit of foreskin adhering to it, closing the transition between tip and shaft in a harmonious way. You love his cock. But one thing you want to kick yourself for.

You’ve entirely overestimated yourself in terms of how many inches you want him to get like an idiot. Not to mention the girth.

It’s almost as big as your whole fist. He’s going to absolutely destroy you. You feel your hands starting to shake. The adrenaline drops into a panic.

„It’s too big, Baekhyun. I’m scared.“

„Y/N…“

„I’m really not used to this. It’s going to hurt me.“

Even before you finish speaking, he immediately shakes his head.

„No, no, I’m sorry if it comes across as that. I can make it squeeze more easily if you want. I can do that.“

„Can you?“

„That’s what the plates inside are for. You can try it out. Press it if you want.“

Calming yourself feels hard to do right now. But you follow his suggestion, giving the middle part a proper squeeze. First hesitant, but then, more firmly.

Kinetic memory, you remind yourself.

And he didn’t lie. Everything becomes a lot more malleable than you thought.

The little scale parts visibly rearrange. Where you apply pressure, and it’s still not much at this point, the girth recedes, and slowly bulges back out after you retreat your fingers again.

„So… okay. Okay. It does feel different. That’s working. But it’s still really huge…“

Baekhyun comes to assuage you with his voice now.

„I’m not going to rip you apart, okay. It also doesn’t expand back once I’m inside you.

„It doesn’t?“

„I can make it adapt to how you want it to be.“

The plating does look like it allows for a lot of flexibility. And decent elasticity for that matter. You soothe yourself by squeezing him again, watching the diameter contract inside your palm.

„That’s, that’s good news. And I thought I’d get impaled.“

„It has a metal core but it doesn’t necessarily stay the same,“ Baekhyun continues. „If you want to take it into your mouth, I can do that as well and make it smaller.“

„It’s what I’ve been thinking. I’d get lockjaw otherwise. You have one fat monster.“

Whatever you were thinking when you gave him almost an underarm worth of length on the website, something got the best of you — despite things being so predictable and his customization being entirely up to you.

„I hope I didn’t scare you too much.“

Baekhyun himself reaches down now to squeeze his cock next to your own hand until the copper layers contract. The firmer he does it, the more it adapts. It’s like he said. Maybe you can actually fit this. A big lump that’s been coiling up in your stomach slowly dissolves with that thought.

You also notice that Baekhyun is completely still even if you’re practically in a death grasp around his dick. Anybody else would be squealing and writhing. You again realize. He feels absolutely nothing.

It is all meant just for you.

You have to get that fact into your head. It’s all crafted for your enjoyment. Of course it’s not going to be some immovable way-too-large-dildo attached him. For the amount of money you paid, anyways. You could swear a third of your budget was used to give Baekhyun a high tech wonder wand.

„The good thing,“ he says, „about being made instead of born is that it can be three in one. I know why men easily envy pleasure models who are built in such a way.“

Wait a second. You perk up. What does that mean.

„Three in one… sizes?“

„Exactly,“ Baekhyun begins to recount. „Mister Park phrased it like this. A big girth to look at, medium size for penetration, and a shorter version for oral. Especially if you are concerned. You have a strong gag reflex.“

It’s hard to believe your ears right now.

„How—How did you—“

„While I was making breakfast. I looked into the freezer to see if we have pizza for lunch. And I saw your box with mixed brands of popsicles.“

„Oh…“

That box.

„The smaller ones are almost all gone.“

He must’ve looked at the back of the box where the types of ice cream are all listed.

„Yeah. The mini cones and such.“

And the sandwiches with three types of ice cream inside. Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry. Your favorites. But why would that even matter? You look at Baekhyun completely incredulous. What on earth was he getting at?

„But the elongated ones,“ he draws an approximate image into the air with his index, „that you have to squeeze out of a tube are untouched. It’s the type of ice cream that you have to wait to melt to rise up from the paper wrap. And when they do and you squeeze, it can shoot up suddenly. That can be uncomfortable to eat for some people. If you have a sensitive throat, you’ll avoid it.“

You feel caught for something you didn’t even commit. How could he make such an accurate conclusion based on what you didn’t eat? You already saw at the funfair how easily he could look up information about food on the spot. Maybe that’s exactly what he did. But still, he connected two seemingly unrelated things without breaking a sweat. He’s really learning fast.

„I’m dating Sherlock Holmes.“

The colorful breakfast fruit plate Baekhyun served up was too delicious to notice that he’d already inspected and organized every inch of your kitchen. Not to mention he was wearing one of your cute aprons with little dancing piglets and sheep on them which distracted you until the toast got cold.

„I’m not going to ignore the hints if they’re right in front of my eyes. Avoiding your discomfort is my first priority.“

You go figure.

„So… you can make it even more perky, then?“

„Not to an extreme degree. But molded to the width of your jaw and teeth,“ Baekhyun points at your chin. „So it will slide in and out very easily.“

„Oh, alright?“

You raise your brows. So it can actually change its shape even more than how he just showed you. You’re starting to like this.

„It’s not going to be painful or make you choke unless you push for it. But when I decrease the length, that shouldn’t happen anyway.“

It really does seem practical. Three in one. The perky version for oral. Why not, the best of all worlds. It’s an advantage of technology, as weird as it sounds.

You mentally send blessings to whoever in the testing department had the guts to brief the colleagues that the big girth version is more eye candy rather than recommended for use. You’d probably clamp up or scream the roof down if he fucked you like that. Let alone do deepthroat.

„Does this mean… you can make it an imprint that fits my mouth? Can I see it?“

He’s really making you curious. You’ve indicated a vague idea of something like that in the questionnaire, but never assumed that the engineers would bother making it into something complex. Up until now, you have to urge yourself to not underestimate how easily inspired they must have been. Somebody really went off.

„I can give you a short demonstration if you help me a little,“ Baekhyun reaches for the towel at the end of the bed, drying off his hands with gentle rubbing motions.

„Okay, just tell me.“

„All you have to do is take it in very slowly. And consistently. It will shape itself that way. I’ll have to give you a few pointers. Can I do that, you want to try this?“

„Sounds good.“

„You can always pinch here if you don’t want to anymore,“ Baekhyun indicates a spot at his right thigh that is just within reach.

„I got it. Just pinch,“ you repeat for yourself, and settle to get comfortable, push your hair out of your face.

At first, positioning yourself is a little difficult because you have to bend forward from your own seated position to reach his crotch, but you end up figuring it out without having to put strain on your foot.

Little by little, you guide in Baekhyun’s tip.

It immediately begins to waver and bend inside your mouth. Meanwhile, judging by the little nestling and a soft tug at the back of your head, Baekhyun has used the hair tie to pull your hair into a ponytail.

While you had immediately laid the tie aside after he returned from the bathroom and forgot about what it was supposed to do out of nervousness, he kept an eye on it.

Baekhyun is that motherfucker, you say to yourself. Let’s do this.

Given that the keyword seemed to be consistency, you remind yourself to keep going stably, keeping your lips loose around him. As if you were eating an ice cube, you avoid using your teeth like hell. You must look ridiculous opening up this wide.

„Don’t worry about scraping me once or twice, the silicone is sturdy,“ Baekhyun says, letting his right hand glide under your jaw. „Prop your chin on my palm. I show you how wide you have to open to make it comfortable.“

Whatever sturdiness there is supposed to be, all you feel is the slightly velvety surface of his cock’s underside lathering against your tongue. You would have thought it takes some lube to make it glide, but it’s not as painfully dry as you thought. Neutral it does taste, but it’s not a desert dry material.

With Baekhyun’s hand under your jaw, you get a better sense of opening up soon. He’s really touching you very gently.

„You feel how it re-forms itself, right. Is it okay like this?

„N—hm.“

„Keep sliding it in for just a little more. You’re doing great.“

Doing so is really surprisingly easy. Where you thought his dick would bump against, there’s basically nothing happening at all.

„Excuse me when I say that. You have a perfectly shaped mouth cave,“ Baekhyun smiles. „But I already know from kissing you.“

What must have sounded like the creepiest compliment in any other situation actually makes you hum and smile a little. You begin to understand just how seriously he seeks to map out your body. Nobody has ever truly bothered to do that.

In the meantime, you notice your nose approaching a dead stop at his loins and your lower lip pressing against what must be the most supple balls of all time. You’re sure that he didn’t make those shrink.

„They’re as big as they were before,“ Baekhyun confirms, vigilant eye he is. „The rest is already close to fully imprinted by now. I just need you to move your head back and forth a little. That helps me gauge how you angle it and what your lips tend to do. Add a bit of variation if you want.“

Doing just that proves to be more fun than you thought. You bop your head a little slower, a little faster. Shallow, then all the way to have your forehead meet his abdomen. It really is… easy?

His size has decreased significantly. You didn’t gag at all so far. Baekhyun doesn’t feel as if he’s just stuck there and ramming in. That you’ve already taken his entire length in so early makes you feel really accomplished, too.

While you move your head, you can feel his dick change a little on your tongue. You even let it slide in sidewards to poke into your cheek, then pull out to kiss the tip of his dick, making Baekhyun smile even more brightly.

„I see you’re good at this. And I really love your lips. They’re pretty.“

You inspect the very slicked up shaft before you with great interest. Without really going at it fully, you already really salivated a lot on it. But even more notable is the unusual shape it’s changed into. It’s assumed a downward curve and has dents where your tongue and teeth were located a second ago. The tip is also much more streamlined. It could probably reach down your throat a little more without having you coughing all over the place.

„The imprint is done, right? That looks really impressive.“

„As good as finished. I save that in my memory data. It can reform at any time you wish it to.“

So that’s part of kinetic learning, too, then — custom dick shapes.

„Mh, interesting. Thanks for doing this, Baek.“

You straighten from your former position and smile at him.

„I might use a similar shape if you ask me to do anal. Just slightly larger. I think I can fit into you very well overall.“

As if he couldn’t be any more adorable, he puts his thumb up with the most innocent face.

„Oh man. I’m so glad I got you, Baek.“

He’s very well read that your questionnaire had a clear preference when it comes to butt stuff.

„Thank you very much. If you want to do this often and get a little practice, I can even help you slide it down your esophagus a little more. I promise you won’t gag or get narrow.“

You don’t doubt it’s possible anymore. Who knows what other freaky templates he can bend into.

„This dick really is magic,“ you lick off some excess saliva from your lips.

„All it is is being designed so you can do whatever you want with it. Everything to your liking.“

You scratch your head.

„And I thought I’d get into trouble doing this.“

Lord knows every blowjob so far has landed you in making a scene or teary eyes. Especially if you tried to shove it down even if you couldn’t reach balls deep. Silly ambition again. And you thought you’d quit this all together.

„Just because you have a limit to depth,“ Baekhyun wipes a little thread of spit from your chin, „doesn’t mean you have to do away with your oral fixation. I really saw you having fun trying different techniques. And it looked like it was very pleasant stimulation for your tongue and saliva flow. If you want do this, you can always ask.“

You get a little flustered at him saying that. Not that he’s wrong. In any sense at all, actually.

„I think you’ll have to get ready to be in my throat a lot during the mornings. With my favorite cherry lube.“

Oh god. That is going to be… very slobbery and heated.

Nothing screams more ‚already am, come get your face fucked at 4:15AM I don’t care‘ than Baekhyun’s eyes right now.

„If you want something tasty before breakfast I’ll have no problems preparing that also.“

He does an invisible hat tip. So serving up fruit is not exclusive to the kitchen then. You find yourself getting euphoric.

„And… we will get to anal some time,“ you mumble under your breath. „Put some prep stuff on our online grocery list.“

„Yes, Ma’am. Just noted. I hope I can thrill you.“

As if you were getting into your car for the first time all over again, Baekhyun dons his best butler voice and you’re starting to fancy it.

„With that wonder boy you have in your pants, I’m thinking I met my match, you know.“

The type you wanna say I do to in a special ceremony separately.

„Precisely how it should be.“

„And, Baekhyun… With the special request idea. I don’t know how to say it. I want to extend this a little to oral as well. Maybe even today.“

„Will get back to it in about an hour.“

So he’s already calculated the route, then.

One hour sounds like a challenge to you, but at this point: You might as well trust what he’s got on his mind. He estimates you better than you do yourself anyway. You’re glad you didn’t move to penetration right away to begin with. Your pussy had enough time to calm down a bit. The swelling is still very much there, however. And your panties are nothing short of a mess. They’re basically sopping.

„As for going on now… I probably don’t have to tell you how wet I am,“ you take a deliberate look down your thighs.

„If you want to know my exact train of thought. I’ve already planned when I’ll wash your ruined underwear. 3:30PM.“

You have to giggle. The mere thought of that image. And he’s really taken over the household like a whirlwind.

It’s time you get to your part of the equation again. Mr. Kim’s imperative returns to you. Your turn to give Baekhyun some more input. With a dick like that, you can think of more instructions than you could list in one go. You build yourself up and place your hand just where you cupped his chin during your kiss on the fair.

„Then I plan you take them off — at now PM.“

You can almost hear a series of programmes running behind Baekhyun’s flickering eyes. Who knows what he is analyzing in his head again. Eventually, he flashes his cute little smile again and ushers you.

„Here?“ He questioningly points back to the center of the sofa where you started out, and you lie down right there.

Funny how much you sidetracked and moved around in the meantime.

Not thinking about transitioning into another position has made it much more effortless and nowhere near as awkward as you thought it would be.

And in hindsight, you were easily swayed into an unexpected intermezzo. Guess you love sucking his dick already. Which is just how Baekhyun offered it to you. All yours. Big and fat and bendy and perfect, morphing itself in whatever makes you hot. You want to shout it from the rooftops, right at all the Mister Lees of the world.

But upon second thought? Better not tell especially your nosy friends from work how hooked you are before they ask for more details.

Hwasa means well, but she would end up telling your damn boss by accident or something. Or Taemin, he would gossip about it on his twitter without name-dropping you, but everybody would know regardless. Meanwhile, Xiumin would make a vlog about „How To Perfectly Clean Your Flat“ and mention it in passing. Chen’s wife would watch it and tell Chen and Kai. Kai would absolutely tell Hyuna and Lisa. And Hyuna would absolutely tell Lay, and Lay would tell Kai, and by that time, the president would probably know.

Treasuring this all for yourself seems like the better thing to do. You want to protect Baekhyun even if he’s the last person on the block who probably needs it. Maybe it’s also a sense of protecting yourself. Maybe some of your friends wouldn’t be averse to getting a leisure bot themselves, but the rest of them still prized even their toxic partners as better than someone like Baekhyun, even if his kind had been part of the society for long enough.

You take note of making impromptu experiments like that for the future regardless.

By now, Baekhyun undresses you fully. Steady hands, steady eyes. Giving your legs a lusciously slow caress that gives you goosebumps. Pulling down your panties with a lot of deliberation, and giving you a good view of his cock. It’s shaping itself back and grows a little again, adding in girth and becoming less streamlined. It curves upward now, revealing a very plump and tight set of balls underneath. You’ve briefly felt them, but didn’t have the chance for a closer look. Now that you think about it, they’re even bigger than before. How it happened, you don’t know.

They seem to be pulsing and turning something white and silver metallic on the inside now. Making them appear… even larger. Two generous scoops of light pink seaside parlor ice cream. Discernable as a pair, but still perfectly one like a pillow. Not sagging very far down even if they seem to move around quite easily. They can probably slap and cushion against your clit if you go for doggy style with decent speed. The noises would be so nasty, you’d have to record it. You curse your foot for not permitting that anytime soon.

So— that thought will leave you high and dry for some time, then.

Makes that damn Achilles’ Heel getting his ever-loving shit together an even sweeter feat to look forward to, actually. So Baekhyun can really drive it home. You get kind of heated at that image in your mind. He is great at giving it to you from behind, you just know it. Now, everything he does well. But this one in particular. You get all sweaty with that idea again.

Baekhyun is still all the way preoccupied with pulling your panties past the knees, upbeat and kind in his expression. And calm, endlessly calm. Every movement, it’s all in perfect ease. You look like a jittery mess compared to him on your back right now.

„Shit, man,“ you bite down your lips after a desperate sigh. This couldn’t be any more tantalizing.

Chapter 8: The Bigger Picture

„Should I stop?“ his hands linger at your ankles, panties almost stripped off your legs. You can already feel the relief of not drowning in yourself anymore.

„No, I,“ you shift around on your back. How the hell do you explain this. „I wish I could stay calm like that, I’m not gonna lie to you. Sorry if I’m one of those bot envy people.“

No use in beating around the bush. He’d read it out of you anyways.

„And I wish I could shake as beautifully as you, you see.“

A comforting eye smile rises underneath his bangs. It gets a hold on you in a way that’s inexplicable.

Don’t you remember him with the cotton candy taste, you think. If anything, the envy is mutual. You’re pretty slow.

He’s trying his best to understand you.

You might want to start reciprocating that. Baekhyun can’t feel human happiness. But he can feel like he’s fulfilling his task. So help him with that, for God’s sake. Your part of the equation isn’t done after paying some money and taking him home or whatever. Being with a bot is more than that. He doesn’t have the needs of a human, but there are conditions that have to be met regardless.

„Point taken, Baekhyun.“

His cheesiness is cute. No use in not trying to tremble either, then. You can’t be him and he can’t be you. Might as well embrace yourself so he can work with it.

Baekhyun finishes the swipe of his movement and settles more closely, sitting on his heels just as before. You’re starting to think that it’s his signature posture.

„And I don’t mind if you envy me,“ he says, offering his hands for you to hold.

„You don’t?“

„There’s cold envy and there’s warm envy. It’s all about how much you like the person. You don’t hate me, right.“

„No, how would I? I really— like you.“

You close either hand around his.

„Then it’s warm envy,“ Baekhyun nods.

„I think… I understand.“

„And you need to know that I adore you also.“

A little squeeze of his hands accompanies his words. You’re caught off guard. All you can think of as a reply is a nod, unable to meet his eyes. You’re at a loss of words entirely. Here you go again.

Maybe the time has come that machines have a better grasp on emotions than humans. They have to teach it back to them.

You try to hide your embarrassment by a little stutter, but he’s already lowering his head down to you, again facing you close by. Close enough for you to see the light golden fuzz of his skin that actually almost seems silver under the artificial lighting of the room.

„So if you want me to do anything for you. Just do the same thing as before. You’ve done it well.“

„I don’t think so,“ you chew at your bottom lip, very well convinced that all you did was being a mess. Baekhyun must be seriously frustrated with this amount of all-too-human chaos.

„There are clients that take at least four to five trials to instruct their leisure models properly. You’ve already managed at first try, you see.“

Your jaw legitimately drops. Probably even lower than when you saw Baekhyun step out of the capsule.

„Five attempts?“

„Some send their bots back because they can’t get themselves to do it at all,“ he affirms. „But either way, those are likely the clients who’d rather apply to purchase automatic models in the first place.“

Automatic models.

You remember. Now you count one and one together — Mr. Kim talked about these bots. You never even realized. The ones seemingly everybody was ordering which drove the whole faculty staff into an endless scientific boredom.

„Most client requests we get want some kind of he-man. They only spend twenty minutes customizing their bot on the website, if not less. Our engineers rarely get to equip a bot with so much pizzazz.“

In fact, these are the bots of a cheaper price range that run on the exact same automatism over and over for the lack of not having any other programming or sentience.

You don’t have to look no further than imagining that they work like a generic sex toy. They’re just in humanoid shape. A fruit plate for breakfast they can’t serve. They don’t have any interest in cotton candy either. The client can only switch them on for intercourse and enjoy maybe two or three default positions at best before their bot goes back to sleep again. They don’t talk freely, they don’t think, they don’t ask questions. They do their job, but they’re not…

Boyfriends.

You suddenly don’t regret spending forever at the PC to fill in forms and paying a lot more money to the faculty anymore.

„What? That’s insane. I never knew.“

How lucky you are to have Baekhyun is an overwhelming thought. If you’re entirely honest with yourself— it even gives you something that feels like butterflies. It’s strange.

„We non-automatic models can only do what we’re supposed to when we get asked.“

„Yeah.“

„Even most things a client requested in the past can’t be done again without a second permission. You have to instruct us in every new situation.“

„Yes, Mr. Kim really emphasized that.“

You feel better knowing that you have read between the lines correctly. Mr. Kim said a lot of things that sounded very complex and removed from daily life, but he managed to convey the most important thing about Baekhyun.

„I have always heard from Mr. Park that many female clients who give their bot back aren’t even the type of person who has troubles speaking their wishes. They don’t have any wishes at all. I think they’ve given up on themselves.“

He looks so downtrodden saying that. The image in your mind looks just as depressing. You want to curl yourself up.

„Wow. Wow, that… sounds scary.“

„Already by law, we can’t dictate them what we want as a replacement for their lacking preferences. Even if that is what they’re expecting. And then, they blame it on us if we stay passive during sex. It’s an unfair game.“

You can already picture how many cases like that must’ve happened.

Mr. Kim was absolutely right to let non-automatic bots decide over who they want to match with or not.

For way other reasons you had naïvely assumed. To be fair, you are still a beginner with this and AndroTech’s terms of service page was a jargon novel in font size 4, bearable as a skim at best.

„So it would even break the law,“ you find yourself even more startled. „To engage in acts that were not… requested on the spot?“

„Yes. But it’s not all clear-cut. Some bots are enabled and do try hard to read their client’s true wishes out of them, and they take the lead to get things started. Especially when a client is extremely nervous on the first day.“

„Oh…“

„You’ve seen me do it with you. How to touch you, whether I can drive and cook for you, how we relax before sleeping. You saw that I was forward with you to take the pressure off. I even picked you up without asking.“

„Yeah, I saw. I understand it now.“

Pretty much from the very first moment. Baekhyun probably knew you didn’t want to walk the corridors to the faculty exit the moment he looked at you. And he did take the lead, and asked about your every reaction hoping he anticipated exactly the right thing you didn’t dare voice.

„Which can be uncomfortable, but the client very clearly has something in mind and they end up saying it. But you can’t use coercion or skip that they say it.“

You give a small „M-hm“ in response and feel the guilt rush over your face.

„That shyness or shameful feeling at the start we can deal with. But in other cases, a person only wants the bot to tell them what to do. Which we’re not allowed to,“ Baekhyun’s voice shifts to a much graver tone. „We are the ones who adapt to the client. We don’t have a motivation to give orders, either.“

„Motivation?“

This keeps on getting more and more puzzling.

„If you can’t feel something, you can’t desire something. Take me— I don’t know what a sense of satisfaction is. And our base programming is to be of service. Even if we did something random that we saw fit just to give a command. It’d be illegal.“

At first, you wonder why the rule would not apply to the automatic he-man bots, but it was actually making sense. The client had decided on their limited programming. Switching them on was giving permission itself, and they could be turned off at any moment.

Meanwhile, a bot like Baekhyun had variation to his actions and was constantly running on AndroTech’s special power generator, lord knows what it did to run all day. Now, if any of his actions were against your will, or he did something without being asked: He would be taken away from you.

If he gave you a decisive order completely unprompted: His programming would be permanently deactivated almost on the spot, even. Bots trying to guess what their clients had on their mind were walking a tightrope.

„This is a much more serious thing than I thought.“

You puff out. Baekhyun gives a wholehearted nod.

„You can tell we have to be careful to find clients who know what they want.“

„I never thought of it that way. But yeah. I can see how the faculty gets into trouble otherwise.“

„Yes. It’s a huge problem.“

And you were as silly as assuming that bot abuse was the biggest issue in the industry. Turns out clients who want their leisure models to break the law are the real skeleton in the closet.

It’s starting to become a bigger picture to you. The repercussions are so much more expensive and damaging for the company image. A bot that an angry client kicked around was only a nuisance if repair was concerned. The whole thing was kind of bizarre.

„I’ll be very careful,“ you assure. „To fulfill my side of the contract.“

„Y/N. You are the last person who’d concern me. I have been sure from the start that you are the ideal person to be with. It’s why I agreed so fast to Mr. Kim’s question whether I want to match up or not. Most bots will ask Mr. Kim to postpone that question so they can gauge their client in a testing period.“

„They… do?“

„Yes.“

„But I already made a mistake,“ you say, remembering how you started out today. „I don’t think I’m ideal or something like that.“

Baekhyun’s following blink is more than knowing.

„That you question yourself tells me you’re a good client. Bad clients don’t self-reflect.“

Maybe you’ve done at least that right.

„I see?“

„You might become reserved or berate yourself sometimes. But that you wrote down 280 specifics for Mr. Kim tells me everything. Once the nervousness dissolves, you do the right thing already and I see your nature. You wish for a lot of things. That makes you ideal to me. I can take care of this one thing at a time.“

He plants a brief, but passionate kiss on the back of your left hand. The cheesy motherfucker got you again.

„Baekhyun, I…“

„That gives me a lot to work with. I hope you look forward to all this. We’ll spend many great nights.“

His charming little smile and dark eyes are as encouraging as ever. Thinking about the many options of 280 makes you giddy already.

„I do. And… I really want to see how the Special Request feels like.“

Your legs are like squirming jelly at this point. Very much unlike Baekhyun who’s stable and resting — in promise of great stamina.

„I’m ready if you are. I’m sorry if my talking delayed this. But I think some last few questions had to get out of the way. As for the request: There’s not much I need to prepare for it.“

Chapter 9: You Look Really Beautiful

„We’ll be starting with… you know. Lower medium size?“

You shift in the sheets, stuttering that out like a pre-schooler, but who the hell cares at this point. It’s not like you didn’t invent all of this.

„All as you want it,“ says Baekhyun with just the right touch of yielding in his tone. How he makes this sound so impeccably polite is a mystery.

„This is really easy to insert,“ he continues, giving a light caress against your cheek. You don’t miss just how much it is meant to be an encouraging touch. Your face feels tingly.

„Okay, let’s give it a shot, then.“

While Baekhyun reshapes the plates, you recline with your knees pulled toward your torso, making sure to place your wonky foot in an unobtrusive way. So far, it’s only complained while you were climbing around trying to find a position to suck Baekhyun off. Sweet baby Jesus. If your heel would ruin your first time, you’d curse your clumsiness forever and sign up at AndroTech to get your legs android-ized if that were even possible.

You’d probably make a good cyborg now that you think about it. With your new steel-inforced feet and knee caps, you’d be one robot step closer to blowing and riding Baekhyun to infinity until his dick needs repair, which you… already plan to do anyways.

„Can you stimulate me like before, please. Just by using your cock now. I’m so horny for it.“

„Of course.“

Baekhyun glides the tip up and down your outer and inner labia alternatingly, then lets it rub all over your clit. Which happens so smoothly. You’re more than wet. He’s drenched you so hard.

Shit.

It doesn’t take many prods until your arousal returns at its fullest, and Baekhyun strikes a complimenting tone in the middle of letting the underside of his shaft tap against the swelling rose bud.

„Your pussy is really pretty. It’s like pink clouds to me.“

He makes a little innocent face. He’s too adorable. Still, you swallow. So it’s time to bring the funfair to this sofa, then, is it.

„I really— want you to stretch it nicely,“ you grab hold of his cock. „So that the filling can seep in really far. I want a lot of it. And after you filled me, you make me cum.“

„I will, Y/N. I prepared a lot for you,“ he nods. „And it’s enriched with pheromones.“

Pheromones.

So the faculty did find ways to flavor things. Realizing that, you already feel twice as horny as before.

„Shit, it’s gonna smell so good. Put it in, put it in… I want to know how it feels.“

You fumble with his tip at your entrance, and Baekhyun lifts his hips accordingly. It slides in for an inch, giving your entrance an idea of the diameter so far.

While you first squeezed his dick in your hand, the surface felt very matte. Now, with Baekhyun carefully securing his cock between the soft embrace of your lips, it makes for a great sensation of grip and stretch paired with how wet you are. His medium girth is really not bad at all even if it’s downsized. In fact, it’s pushing at your entrance in the juiciest way. With no panties in between anymore. You realize that it’s really about to go down.

„Baekhyun, oh god. Oh god. It’s good. Put your hands around my waist.“

He swiftly does, no second wasted. His fingers, his palms, his wrists— are so soft. You notice that his right hand sits significantly lower than the left one, pretty much on the hip bone. You already want to ask him to move it upwards that you realize he’s seen the scar from your appendix surgery and avoided putting his hand on it.

„Do you want me to slide in more along the way?“

„Yes, more.“

You can tell that Baekhyun knows the exact angle to glide into you. With his hands suavely placed on you now, he adjusts your pelvis without needing leverage. The sheer given shape of his palms has your body melt into the right posture. Eventually, his cock tip makes its way down your walls, bulging them apart. Baekhyun’s length gliding into you has you feel the entirety of his shaft pushing in with a proper thickness. A perfect languid strain, making your pussy feel amazingly filled and bursting with veiny, girthy cock.

„Fuck. Please use your fingers, Baekhyun,“ you gasp out, feel your lungs contract. „And kiss me all over.“

He keeps on sliding in. Leaves little kisses on your nose and sweat-glazed collar bones, breasts, neck. His plush little lips make pecking noises that sound all the way dirtier when he turns them into desperate moans. Baekhyun sure knows how to push your buttons. You’re about to go nuts entirely.

One hand leaving your waist, he adds a consistent stroke at your clit until he surprises you with slowly hitting balls deep.

Already?

„I’m in. How does it feel?“

It really is good to insert.

The heat from your clit mixes with the satisfaction of Baekhyun now being fully curved inside you. He was so much easier to take than you were afraid of.

„It’s amazing to me.“

A squeeze from your muscles comfortably locks Baekhyun, who gently lowers his posture above you, in the spot. Just enough for you to let your fingertips ghost over the center of his abs. His body is so warm, almost heated.

Then, you reach for his face and kiss him deeply. His tongue immediately picks up your pacing, swirls around yours in an intricate dance. The passion overflows. You want so much more.

„Start thrusting. Stimulate me.“

Accompanied with a faster flick of his fingers on your clit, Baekhyun lets his cock pulse in and out of you without removing much of its length. The inward tug at your walls pushes your womb along with it. Baekhyun’s width is just right in spreading your pussy apart, and how he gets you off brings more slickness to each thrust. You feel yourself getting really swollen up and bubbling wet, even more than before.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

„Make it grow a little,“ you push the words past your tense jaw. „And then give me the first special request.“

Again, he doesn’t hesitate. The sudden growth spurt takes a bit off the speed out of Baekhyun’s plunge, but soon increases again. It’s because his cock has started to leak inside, pouring more and more lubrication around itself.

„Is that good?“

His thrusts make the velvety liquid surface at the base of his cock. Very slowly, but surely. He’s fucking it out of you so well. Almost instantly, the smell is intoxicating. A hefty concoction of vanilla, fruit, and something very sharp and musky layered over it. A very masculine and upbeat spice that is like an electric current. The liquid keeps oozing from your entrance with every thrust, bringing more of the scent to live.

„Fuck. Please more. That’s so good. Hold me when I buck up, Baekhyun!“

The special request is nothing but a liquid mechanism that lets Baekhyun pump you full of milky white pre-cum. Whenever you want, mid-fuck at full speed, or as a quick filling without much prep. With a big load or just a little portion as lube, anything goes. Baekhyun has to refill the material with special cartilages every now and then, but it’s compressed like the foam of a whipped cream bottle. Just a lot more fluid. And way, way too loaded with artificial pheromones for your brain to handle. Your pussy explodes with oozing pre-cum and the tension of pleasure alike. You really can’t handle it. Still dizzy from the kiss, your tongue is all loose and erratic anyway.

„Not, ah—! To ask for something I can’t handle for the twentieth time or something! Fucking shit!“

You take a deep breath. Even a fast look between your thighs has you clenching. Everything is so creamy. And sticky. And milky. All with his cock buried right in the soaking middle of it. Baekhyun really gave you a full-on A class preview for the special request.

„Ask away. Even if it’s unrealistic. I make things feasible. That’s my job if anything,“ he looks more friendly than ever at you. Mr. Kim couldn’t sport a smile any better. Jesus Christ, he’s patient with you.

„I think I got some greed but, uh.“

„No worries. I can work with that. Greedy girls are the best girls.“

„Can you just, cockwarm me and give me another load. With the— bigger… version. If that doesn’t get me to the ER. I just want to try it for a minute or two even if it’s too big. You probably know if I’m built to do that better than me though.“

By the knowing look he gives you, Baekhyun indeed does.

„That works, I already calculated that. You’re stretched enough. If we don’t do it for long and I’m not moving, you’ll just feel really stuffed and full.“

„Exactly what I’m wanting,“ you blurt, and your eyes grow all the more impatient.

„Okay. I’ll be holding your legs up a little more for that if it’s alright. Just keep your ankle very relaxed.“

„M-hm!“

By doing that, you realize he changes how you angle yourself at him. You mentally prepare yourself, and already feel him expand inside. That pushes even more of the scented fluid out of your pussy, spreading over his cock. The smell of vanilla and grapefruit, whatever it is, becomes even stronger. Everything pools and drips from his expanding shaft in sticky threads that you want all over you, and in his mouth, his face, everywhere. Your poor pussy is nothing but a lake at this point.

„I’m gonna burst with this inside of me.“

And he really is monstrously big in his full form.

„Almost there. Does it feel okay?“

It grows and grows. Becomes veinier and all slick, bathed in scent and your own pussy creaming it up.

„Shit… that thing is like a spear! Fuck! Keep it, keep it up—!“

He keeps on growing. The stretch of your walls is driving you wild. You can’t even put a proper grip on him with your muscles at this point. All there is — a bulging sensation of your pussy getting filled out all around. It does make you feel tensed up. Even if the surface of his cock feels only a bit elastic, the diameter is too wide at this point.

„It’s a bit uncomfortable if you focus too much there with your muscles,“ Baekhyun says. „Look at my hands.“

Baekhyun circles into your clit with his index. It mixes relief into the stretch. And more pulsing excitement. Just a light caress wouldn’t do it at this point. He knows he has to rub a little faster.

„You’re all… stuck there,“ is all you can moan. He’s grown sufficiently to let your sensitive entrance feel like it’s going to burn up in flames. In its normal state, there’s no way he would get past it in his large size. You don’t even know just how far up he is inside you. If he’d thrust now, your guts would be as ruined as your panties. The flaring sensation of him spreading all inside you is all that you can think of. You’re starting to think you must’ve developed a cock addiction because of those pheromones, the thought of him not being inside of you all day like this sounds terrible.

Now that he’s entirely erect and stiffened, you can tell his dick has exactly the inner metallic strength you thought it had. He’s pretty heavy inside you. You get a buzzing in your head and accidentally shift your hips a little. The feeling that follows makes you gasp.

„That, that’s hitting something. Oh my god. It’s pressing me. Oh my god. What is that, Baekhyun!“

„Your cervix.“

„That’s deep in. Holy shit.“

„It’s really big and puffy. My sensors are liking it.“

So that’s where he is, then. Buried right there. Hitting the spot.

“Hold it there, Baekhyun. It feels so unusual! Please press it a little more.“

Baekhyun shifts his hips himself, causing you to feel the same bump again. It makes your body jerk and takes you by surprise once more.

„I think it likes kissing my tip the way you do with your lips.“

Either you’re imagining things, or Baekhyun actually sounds a bit accomplished.

„What! Does it react?“

„It’s getting increased blood flow and expands around me. If you want, I can rest a little deeper with my tip at the hole in the middle.“

The idea is so filthy knowing he could shoot you up with more pre-cum any second. All of it would spritz deep inside of you, almost the deepest way possible. You picture Baekhyun mixing up a huge load for you, only to pump it all the way through his immense length.

„Please, please do that, please. Push against it.“

„I’ll have to be really careful.“

„Come on, Baekhyun,“ you firmly grip at his hips to pull them down. „Beat my pussy up. It’s deep enough. Give me the whole length.“

That this means going balls deep entirely is making your legs do funny things.

Baekhyun, squeezing in the last inch, finally makes you feel like he’s splitting you apart. From your legs up to your neck, you can feel the strain. Your pussy can barely take it. It doesn’t know whether to fall apart or to tense up. That Baekhyun’s cock tip ever so slowly pushes, then penetrates into your cervix and stays there, neither opening it fully nor just resting loosely against it, sends you all sorts of arousing signals.

„You’re stretching so well. See how amazing your labia look now.“

The sensation of Baekhyun has distracted you entirely from just about anything else. A quick glance tells you it does just look like that. Your muscles are too pushed apart to grasp his dick, but your pussy lips do that job for you. They’re finally getting their right stretch. Plush, and wet, and wide apart, they hug Baekhyun as if trying to pull him in. It’s as if they’re sucking and gargling his cock and spilling saliva everywhere. They’ve grown amazingly plump and red. Two cock-hungry, endlessly greedy girls just for Baekhyun.

„How do you feel? Describe it to me.“

„I’m feeling so, I can’t, fucking crazy! It’s prodding a spot that’s really far up. Oh God. It’s so big. You… fuck… oh— You—!“

„You can call me any dirty names you want,“ Baekhyun lowers his voice. It sounds so naughty and provoking when he does that. „You know that I’m down to be a huge whore.“

The plain sneering delight in his eyes is so intense that your pussy starts to pulsate. That lewd and yearning Baekhyun hiding underneath the cute smexy smile has ambushed you again.

„Give me that slutty look on your face and stroke my belly. Show it. Moan. If you wanna be a whore, do it properly.“

„It’s really bulging out here, Y/N…“

He whimpers, traces his palm across your abdomen, quick to find the spot. It does form a bit of a bump. Even from your position, it’s quite visible.

„Yeah… Look, you did this.“

„Your pussy is so perfect on the inside, too. Really pink and juicy.“

That his tip is currently making cockwarming love to your cervix you can very well feel. The two of them are already headed to be on a familiar basis with each other. You want Baekhyun to smash and jizz it every fucking night.

„If you have some more cum, now’s the moment, Baek. Pound it.“

„One second,“ he jerks at the base, briefly having his right hand leave your waist. You grip at the nape of his neck to pull his face down. You lock lips, and they are so mesmerizing while Baekhyun makes sure to find a nice angle.

With a loud moan into his mouth, you can feel him stuffing your pussy with a shot of rich fluid. The accompanying thrust is strong, steep, and throbbing. It makes you want to mount Baekhyun and fiercely bounce on his dick until cumming all over it, way until collapsing. His cock reaches far enough through the opening of your cervix to fill your womb with its creamy load. The liquid drips against the upper area until it spreads out and leaks down into your vagina. A lake of his semen now pools back and forth inside your spongy uterus, Baekhyun’s cock stirring it with its light pulses and movements. He’s not thrusting, but making sure to keep his dick swaying and prodding just enough to ease your tensions.

„Another load,“ you part from his lips, craving. „Really make it to the brim. Move it once. Push it in… So good, Baekhyun…“

„Okay,“ he hums, and kisses you again, this time making gentle contact with your lips. „I’ll make it really warm and thick.“

„God, yes…“

„Here, are you ready?“

„Fill me.“

Baekhyun’s fat cock delivers a juicy stab, fucking the meaty, veiny width under the tip right into your cervix. Hard and quick, making your toes shiver. The blow pounds and heavily stretches it apart under your deep guttural moans. He’s really deepening his cock almost to the max, and you can feel how stiff and girthy he’s made it become.

The first pre-cum load allows for a perfect glide already. The plunge is so good. Your cervix now faithfully grips at his shaft, fully lubricated and anticipating, swelling up, greedily throbbing around him so fast. It pulls his cock in the way you want to deepthroat Baekhyun. You repeat and repeat his name.

Finally, a second spurt comes to seep right into you like a waterfall. Baekhyun floods your pussy entirely without holding back. A gushing injection of white streaks and pearls comes to permeate you so deliciously that your heart skips a beat. The spill is much less fluid this time, but runny just like freshly whipped coconut cream, fanning out into little melted clouds. He’s shot what you imagine as more than the amount of a small glass of water into you. You are creamed up to the last millimeter. If he was fertile, you’d be pregnant with a cute little Baek baby in two seconds, and give birth only three minutes later.

„I love it!“

Your pussy walls loosen around him. Even if it means saying goodbye to your filling, now you wanna see how his semen looks like.

„Rest your hand there while you’re pulling out,“ you guide your had toward your abdomen. „You’re gonna tell me the difference.“

With Baekhyun slowly drawing out his cock and letting the vacuum suck the fluid downward, you become giddy. Your cervix refuses to close and instead stays pulsing open, letting all that he filled you with drip out. It’s a pal size puddle. Baekhyun’s dick looks so gigantic and coated now that he pulled out. You can’t believe all of that was inside of you.

„I really hate to leave you feeling empty,“ he says, and massages your belly very attentively.

„I wish your cum could stay inside all day. It’s so warm. I really miss your cock, too. Shit, Baekhyun.“

After some waiting time, his last bits of semen makes its way down. Your pussy gapes enough to let it squeeze out. It’s so thick and white, completely opaque. How good it smells you only register when you’re already hanging at Baekhyun’s lips again. The scent drives you to kiss him again and again, having your hands all over his body, praising him with your moans. He yields into your wild hug and the making out continues until your creampie no longer flows out. Half of your pussy is full of sticky semen still, warming you from the inside. Between your heavy breaths, you realize that Baekhyun’s laser gaze on you have even more craving than before.

„And this is not even the main event,“ he rasps into your ear. „We’re still headed towards the most important thing.“

You shake. His dark eyes set on you like a panther’s. He’s readier than ever. This goddamn robot stamina. Now he wants to fuck you up entirely.

„Make me cum… really hard, Baekhyun.“

„I’ll have you moaning and arching. Tell me what to do.“

„Remember I talked about some Special Request mixed with oral?“

„Very clearly,“ he nods, helping you get up from your back. „I got you.“

„Leave it at big as it is now. Not the full growth but almost there. Really give me a lot of cum, okay. Empty yourself into my throat. You can also fuck my mouth but keep it shallow. You can hold my head later on.“

„All as you like. Here,“ Baekhyun helps you guide the shaft between your expectant lips.

You suck at the tip, but your mouth doesn’t get very far down. The difference to Baekhyun’s smaller, adapted version is extreme to see, to touch, and taste. While you gobble the far end, a generous spurt of cum shoots into your throat already. It pools on your tongue before you swallow three times.

It tastes mild and sweet.

Maybe you’ve been eating too much cotton candy as of recently, but it does bear some resemblance to it. You shake the girth from one side of your mouth to the other, signalling Baekhyun to fill you again. More cum begins to appear, then burst at the roof of your mouth, and you don’t manage to hold in all of it. Thank God the towel is thick enough.

All the jizz expands on your tongue and you swallow faster, with Baekhyun leaking more of his cock milk. You decide to have some fun thrusting your head forward and have the whole thing explode against his loins and your lower face. With Baekhyun’s dick plunging into you deeper, the remaining cum flows past your lips and lands between either of your legs on the towel.

No wonder his balls do their pulsating thing. He has to keep up mixing and pumping everything out. His cock is now so perfectly slippery that you can glide your tongue around it in fast circles. The faster you go, the more his foreskin retracts, revealing the beautiful sturdy glans that provides you with another milky shot against the back of your throat. The mixture is smooth, allowing for an easy big swallow. For some reason, it’s almost like almond milk conditioner diluted with a bit of water.

Baekhyun adding little thrusts to each leaking makes you moan like a pervert. You suck and lick up every incoming bit of fluid properly until gulping it down. At this point, your entire stomach is a sea of white cream. Your mouth feels like it’s drowning in baby lotion, but without the obnoxious taste. Even now, you’re still not tired of bopping your head and blowing bubbles with the amounts of his sperm that gather around the middle of his cock. The more you get into the rhythm of moving your head, the more heated and loud you get.

Puckering your lips adds the right pressure, and you keep your jaw as wide a Baekhyun showed you earlier. The slicking, slurping and glucking noise of the suction is music to your ears. Him spilling out more liquid helps you glaze his length with warm icing now, and your speed is surprisingly high in doing so. You end up sinking your fingertips into Baekhyun’s shapely ass cheeks and hold onto his body like that while blowing him. You feel they are toned and soft at the same time, even more heavenly when you use your entire palms to hold them.

„Great, you’re doing great,“ Baekhyun wipes off a blotch of cum from his belly and lathers his cock up with it, careful not to disturb your mouth at work. „Do whatever comes to your mind.“

As if that praise was not enough, another rewarding fountain fizzes into your mouth. The vacuum from your tight lips resounds almost like a kissing noise. With another moan upcoming, you blurt out the majority of Baekhyun’s load. This time, his legs are the victim of your slobber, getting their first contact with his cum in dripping white stripes. It looks so hot. Looking at his ruined thighs with your saliva and milk on them makes your pussy throb several times.

In the meantime, your lips are left perfectly coated and big, clinging to the veiny surface slightly below Baekhyun’s tip. Especially your lower lip has gotten much plumper and picks up every relief on his dick. You love the sound of him thrusting in his shaft that is met with a little lake of cum at the farther end of your tongue. The more elegantly he helps you plunge in the tip, the better it stirs the fluid and leaves a nice caress at the top of your mouth and the inner corners of your lips. The taste is breathtaking. After swallowing for the seventh time now, you pop his dick from your mouth and distribute the remaining cum on your cheeks and temples by sliding his length all over your skin.

„That feels so good,“ you pat his cock all over your cheekbones, your forehead and the bridge of your nose. You even glide the tip of his cock against your browbone, tracing its lining and have a few little droplets of Baekhyun’s delicious milk dance stuck in your lashes. The fluid leaves your face feel cooled and soft. The matte silicone surface of his length is perfect enough to slowly glide under the guidance of your hand, massaging your face gently and slick.

And then, you get an idea.

„Hold your cock up for me. Maybe make it curve up a little,“ you instruct, take a few breaths to cool down. When Baekhyun is ready, you slide your right hand between your legs and head your mouth for his balls at the same time.

They really are like scoops of ice cream. Enough milk has distributed over them to make your attention of kisses, licks, feathery light bites and sucking very easy. Everything glides, and you love how they vibrate ever so slightly.

„Tell me I will feel this against my clit as often as possible, Baekhyun.“

„Every day if you want. I can make them buzz a little more than that as well. That goes for my cock, too.“

„What— Really! Please do it! And please, more cum…“

And they do. It must be the weirdest thing your lips and the tip of your nose have felt, ever. A million dancing ants start their party on your skin. Alternating between left and right, you give your mouth a proper ice cream feeding. Baekhyun’s cock vibrates along and produces another waterfall of sperm.

While you let the buzzing ripen up your lips with even more swelling, drops upon drops of cum add from above where Baekhyun holds his cock in an almost vertical position. Since its curve bends toward his stomach, that’s where more of his cum lands. You love to observe the milk trickle over the little veins of his loins, his lightly toned abs, and the perfect V shape of his pelvis. With every drop, you rub your clit to new heights and feel it become spongy. You’re so sensitive and wet that it’s harder to get your finger to the right spot, so you end up using three fingers at once.

Baekhyun glazing himself with all that luscious cum makes you want to lick him up whole. On the other hand, his oozing cock spills so much fluid that you don’t want any of it go to waste.

With the flicks of your index finger speeding up between your legs, you ask Baekhyun to stuff and thrust his cock back onto your tongue and provide you with a final wave of cum for good. He dusts over your lashes to remove the spray they took before, then diligently brings his palms around the back of your head. Baekhyun is so utterly careful and sensual in his expression that you have to groan and feel your pussy twitch. His pretty fingers fit so perfectly around the area under your high ponytail. Having his wrists ghost over your temples makes you want to come on the spot. Now that your head is softly locked safe, Baekhyun asks if he can start, earning the most eager nod.

„I won’t make you gag, I promise,“ he gives his fingers a final arrangement, laying flat on your hair.

You feel like you’re about to implode and already drive your head forward. Aided by the slip of your mouth, he pulls you onto his cock, driving in a bit more length. About a third of his cock gets in, and you feel only a slight bit of tension. Your lips close around him, but remain flexible, still. Your hand between your legs rubs faster. And faster. Your clit is begging for a second rush. By the time, your jaw has become perfectly loose and receptive, ready to take a pounding. You moan in frustration from all the suspense, and finally he begins fucking his monster dick into your skull.

The girth stretches your lips and leaves your mouth completely stunned. Baekhyun properly angles himself into your head and showers you with complimenting little wows, then continues the speed and screwing until half of his dick pumps into your mouth. It’s pushing in and stimulates your lips with every thrust. The buzz is amazing.

Your throat is perfectly accepting of Baekhyun’s tip. The vibrating stimulation at your tonsils sends excitement through your entire body. His cock is amazingly big, hot, and jittery. When he drills it into you with a little ‚your mouth… so soft… like cotton candy…’ under his breath, you can’t take it anymore.

When your rubs escalate and your pussy begins to contract, he blows up your mouth with an avalanche of extra sticky and flavorful cream. Unlike when he was pumping out the cum against his belly, his cock now powerfully empties in one go and overwhelms your tongue with taste.

The portion is so huge and almost foamy. Now you’re filled double. Your leaking pussy, stuffed with his bubbling semen, and your mouth, rich with the potent vanilla taste. Your clit thumps hard with a series of twitches, about ten, eleven, twelve times, with another strong rub from your middle finger pushing it over the edge.

The load of cum bursting into your mouth is so large that your cheeks slowly bulge out a bit. Baekhyun holds his cock in place to help you keep it centered. A look at his hands alone is enough to fasten your rubs and make you feel your climax peak. Your eyes get large from the extremity of pleasure surging from your clit, having your body rock, making you yelp out and spill Baekhyun’s semen back over the pulsing curve of his dick. It’s so messy, but you don’t care.

He takes the opportunity to thrust back into your mouth in sync with the twitches of your pussy, blasting your way too impatient esophagus with more sputtering threads of hot milk. Your clit throbs even harder when you hear the wet noises your throat makes. Every thrust has you blowing out cum with stifled, slobbery gargling. Baekhyun penetrates you so well and won’t waste a milliliter of cum. It’s so thick and so good, and distributes so nicely every time he fucks it into your throat a little further. The vibration of his cock makes your tongue so swollen against the underside of his shaft and even more sensitive to how his cum feels.

Liquid satin, gliding so well down into your stomach that you wish he could penetrate, too. You slurp and gobble the last shots of cum, and enjoy Baekhyun’s thrusts feeding you his fully sperm-decorated cock. With your saliva flowing into the mix, the load gets perfectly blended and has you produce the nastiest sounds around the meaty base of his dick. You want to lap it all up, slather it all over you, bathe in it. He drenches your mouth completely. You swallow and swallow until he knows you’re feeling full and stops the flow.

You still try to suck the leftover liquid out of him until only drops remain on your tongue. A final swallow, and you lock eyes with Baekhyun who’s gently smiling and cupping your head.

„B—woah,“ you gush out, slipping your lips off his dick. You look down on your body and Baekhyun’s, finding your skins coated all sticky as if a pot of joghurt spilled all over your chests and legs.

The special request indeed leaves nothing left to be desired.

„Really incredible,“ Baekhyun says.

„Warm…,“ you lick your lips, and shake, move your tongue about to loosen it up. „And so much— Fuck!“

„Not a drop left. I’ll probably need half an hour to gather an amount like that again.“

„I want this all the time. This, this is so much fun.“

„Yes. You were really enjoying yourself. You look really beautiful.“

Probably really messy and funny with your drying lips and tousled ponytail. You have to chuckle.

„Brace yourself, Baekhyun. I hope you have enough hair ties prepared.“

Oh, it’s gonna be a ride.

After you settle your breath, Baekhyun goes about cleaning your face and neck, and bits of your chest. He has to get a third towel from the bathroom to get the job done, including rubbing himself down. As ruined as he looks, AndroTech has to send him into the fucking robo deep cleaning room or something if you keep this up.

Eventually, Baekhyun helps you up the same way he put you down on the sheets two hours ago. You coo to him, and he carries you to the bedroom softly humming. You feel a strange serenity. Protection. Baekhyun looks so sweet and calm. A warm feeling spreads across your abdomen, and you listen to your blood rush in your ears. He really got you going,. He offers a glass of water that you accept and nip at while he sorts his and your clothes, dumping all the towels into the laundry basket and switching off the living room lights afterwards.

Alongside carrying a paddle hair brush, he returns with your favorite strawberry bubblegum chapstick. He must have picked it up next to the washing machine in the bathroom. You keep a little shell-shaped metal bowl next to the basin where all your cosmetics are scattered in. How he knows that it’s your go-to lip product will remain another mystery, although you are sure he has a page-long analysis on it.

After asking for your permission, Baekhyun applies it for you and makes sure to kiss you not once, but twice. He loosens the tie out of your hair and goes about brushing it, smoothing it. Lying down in your bed for the afterglow with the fairy lights on gets even better when Baekhyun offers his chest to lean against for dozing off.

Chapter 10: Pulling Out The Carrots

You wake up to the smell of waffles and cocoa coming from the kitchen. You sit up in bed. Feeling more gloriously fucked out than fucked up, actually. The floor, even if it’s still the exact same as before, feels different when you set your either foot on the ground. It’s not only your heel feeling at least a little better. It’s also the fact that it’s the ground of an apartment with two people in it.

Bothering to put on socks, you find that your closet has a new stack of clothes where Baekhyun normally sorts in his white vest. So Mr. Kim sent a new batch of attire for him as promised in the email you received last night. Seven sets of midnight blue, carnelian, and more white cuts of similar fabrics and varying shapes. Your closet looks strangely complemented with his clothes in it. Not to mention much tidier since he folded each and every piece.

Before you waddle to the bathroom, you check your phone and see an avalanche of shy emojis from Hwasa in your notifications. You did manage to send a little comment on the sofa before you went to bed.

„Guess whose car is fixed,“ Baekhyun sets a plate on the table. The whole kitchen sizzles and looks as if a restaurant chef just let a huge cloud of steam loose from his souffle in the oven. There’s juice, there’s blueberries, there’s syrup on the table. His smile is even brighter than it was yesterday.

„You gem!“

Falling around his neck makes Baekhyun laugh. You cling in the hug and pepper his forehead with kisses until the waffle machine bleeps.

„Dig in, princess,“ he stacks up three waffles on the plate, golden brown and drizzled with syrup.

„Sit down with me when the last one is done,“ you fork the top waffle, separating it into five hearts each. Crispy outside, vanilla-colored and juicy on the inside. Back in the day when he was still active, Gordon Ramsey couldn’t have done it any better. Baekhyun nods, now busy with a large blue bowl. He’s kept his smile and hums a little. The kitchen radio is playing in the background.

„And something else,“ he swipes the wooden spoon through the bowl. You realize what’s inside. He steps toward the table to masterfully place a generous amount of whipped cream on your stack of waffles.

„What was it?“

„I talked to Mister Lee.“

„You what?!“

With a clattering noise, your fork drops right back onto the plate. If the sweet scent in the kitchen didn’t fully wake you, then this definitely did.

„I first checked the databank as I said,“ Baekhyun puts down the bowl on the table and takes a seat opposite to you. „There was no record of him interacting with androids anywhere. He didn’t own one, nor did anyone else in his social environment or the area around here. Except you of course.“

„A—alright, and?“

Judging by Baekhyun’s picture-perfect appearance that doesn’t seem to sport a single scratch, at least Mr. Lee didn’t get out his golfing equipment then.

„I went over and met him on the porch while he was having his coffee. I introduced myself and asked about his garden.“

„His garden?“

„Mister Lee has taken up quite a bit of work with his vegetables,“ Baekhyun pours some orange juice from a jug into the chunky little glass in front of your plate. „He was busy with carrots yesterday.“

„What— What does that have to do with…?“

„He was huffing out loud because he couldn’t pull out a particularly large one.“

„That’s what I heard when we arrived?“

„Precisely you did.“ As if your jaw couldn’t hang any lower, now you’re also flooded with embarrassment.

„He was squatting right behind the large bush that blocks the view,“ Baekhyun continues. He said he didn’t even hear us arrive because he had headphones on.“

„Jesus, really?“

„I was already wondering why I didn’t notice any danger when we arrived at the house. You only heard the noise and made a conclusion. But actually, Mister Lee was in his own world.“

„Oh…“

„I helped him plug out the remaining carrots just half an hour ago. It was really easy. He gave me a few potatoes from his garden, too. I’ll make you fries for lunch today.“

„You really hear what you want to hear,“ you say to yourself out loud and start chugging the orange juice. Maybe moving into the underground tunnel system you’re planning to build for yourself to disappear from the face of this earth is still a very good idea.

„And don’t worry. I didn’t tell Mister Lee about your reaction. He doesn’t know about the misunderstanding. I just said I heard him shout in his garden and he readily explained what he was working on.“

„That was very sensible, Baekhyun. So I was accusing him for nothing, then.“

You bury your face in your palms. Goddammit.

„Mister Lee is as harmless and unbiased against bots as this waffle,“ Baekhyun points squarely at your plate.

„And I thought this would end up in a fistfight.“

„The funny thing is. Mister Lee said he used to be a boxer back in the 1980s and had muscles like I do. He was really amused how fast I was pulling out the carrots.“

„B-Boxer? Was he trying to intimidate you?“

Maybe you need to muster your rusty karate skills again. Who knows what Mister Lee was really up to. You didn’t know much about his family, but you’re sure a more detailed Internet search would reveal that his grandfather was indeed called Bruce.

„No worries,“ Baekhyun picks up the jar again, re-filling your juice. „He called me a dapper young gentleman and offered we could come over to have carrot cake at 4 PM. He says the house is a little empty since his grandkids moved to San Francisco. Mrs Lee is also looking forward to congratulate us. If you’re free after work?“

„They… invited us?!“

„In the most friendly way possible. And their potatoes are really huge. That’s going to be a lot of fries.“

Looks like Baekhyun has found your neighbors to be much more trustable than your paranoid robot gf brain. Before you can really deliberate whether to say yes or no, your intuition does the work for you and makes your strained jaw blab the words.

„I’m free, sure I—“

The doorbell rings twice, ripping you right out of your thought flow.

Baekhyun swiftly gets up. You already expect Hyuna or Chen with the latest gossip in town about your universally heard late-night moaning noises.

Setting up what feels like another Guinness world record, you stress-eat two waffles at once before readying yourself to get up, too. Another loss of face right around the corner but at least you have something in your stomach and Baekhyun’s beautifully cooked meal isn’t getting cold which would be the ultimate heresy.

To your relief, however, Baekhyun returns with—

A post box.

„Delivery for my princess,“ he chirps from the kitchen entrance. „Wow, it’s really heavy, too!“

„God, I’m a mess,“ you shake your head at yourself.

„Pardon?“

„Nothing, I just said it’s actually for the prince, you know.“

Your castle might be an outdated yellow house, but it has a creaking palace door and splendid clothing parlor. And pancakes for dinner. And the prince has a really big dick, so.

„For— me?“

„Yes, yes. If Mr. Kim can send you something nice, I can do that, too.“

There goes another portion of your salary but fuck it. You act as if you were puffing yourself up a little, with flared nostrils and a dandy eyebrow wiggle. A laughing Baekhyun uses his mere nails to loosen the tape from the packaging in one smooth go, and also doesn’t seem to extend any efforts prying it open. You’ve never seen anyone open a box this elegantly.

„That’s the kind of rivalry between creators I didn’t expect,“ he says. „I hope you’ll like the new clothes, by the way.“

You’re starting to get the hang of this whole bots-and-boredom thing. Keeping Baekhyun on his toes is paradoxically both less and more of a big deal than you thought but you’re working it out.

A note of calling your declared friendly rival Mr. Kim to ask him for a few more pointers is what you decidedly jot down on your own mental to-do list. He explicitly said that Baekhyun can very well explain himself, but getting some more insider knowledge to ambush Baekhyun with surprises doesn’t hurt. And whatever this kinetic learning thing is, you certainly need some more ideas from the source, too.

„You can model them after we return from eating cake.“

„Nothing I’ll love more,“ Baekhyun removes some of the crumpled up paper cushioning inside. Since the box is fairly big, it takes a bit until the content becomes apparent to him. Once he realizes what it is, Baekhyun’s eyes light up and he starts jumping up and down through the kitchen.

„It’s a pink clouds machine!“

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ahgaseda · 4 years

Text

to kill an empire || chapter 26

⇥ synopsis : when you agreed to marry Jaebeom, the heir to a lucrative but not quite legal organization, you never expected the boy who was once your greatest rival would inevitably become your most powerful ally…

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language, recurring gang violence, mentions of drug or alcohol abuse, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

The scream that came from your mouth was unlike anything you had ever heard. You never thought yourself capable of making such a piercing sound of agony and fear.

Your captor had extended his arm beside you and fired a single shot into Jaebeom’s unprotected chest. In the split second of no longer hiding behind you like a shield, the sniper dropped him faster than you could blink.

“No,” you wailed, sprinting toward Jaebeom as he fell to his back. Collapsing to your knees, your body was driven by instinct and you overlapped your hands where the blood was pooling through his shirt.

Your husband released a low, distressed sound; as if breathing had suddenly become too hard for him.

“Bummie, please. You’re gonna be okay. I’m here. Please, don’t die.”

The few precious seconds spent with Jaebeom were gone as you were swarmed by people. Paramedics were swiftly at your side and you felt someone gripping your arms with the intent of pulling you away.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you yelled and were quickly released.

Jinyoung tenderly called your name. He had mistakenly tried to part you from Jaebeom to let the medics do their job.

“We got it,” said one of them, trying to replace your hands with his own over the wound in your husband’s chest.

“No, I can’t,” you cried, shaking with adrenaline. You couldn’t risk any blood escaping his beating heart.

Jaebeom’s eyes were fluttering and his face had paled. Tears rushed down your cheeks and you pleaded, “Stay awake, baby.”

Mark brushed past Jinyoung, noting how everyone seemed too terrified of you to do what needed to be done. The bodyguard crouched down and wrapped both arms around your waist, hauling you backwards before you could process what was happening.

“Let go of me,” you screeched at the top of your lungs, flailing in his grasp. “Bummie, you can’t go. I can’t do this without you!”

Jinyoung grabbed your wrists to keep you from hurting Mark or yourself, grimacing at your blood soaked hands. The gravity of what was happening collided into you all at once and you folded into Mark’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably as he lowered you gently to the ground in his lap.

“He’s gonna be okay,” Jinyoung coaxed with a trembling voice, cradling your head to his chest. “He won’t go out like this.”

Jaebeom was loaded into an ambulance and taken away. Something in you shut down then. No more tears escaped and you slumped tiredly against Mark.

White hot rage filled your chest.

Jinyoung poured a bottle of water on your hands, cleaning the crimson from your fingers. You gazed blankly into the distance, but your mind was racing.

Finally getting to your feet, you allowed Mark to usher you into the black SUV.

“To the hospital now,” said Jinyoung.

“No,” you interjected.

Jinyoung and Mark turned to you in disbelief.

You leaned back and crossed your legs. Your face was stoic when you explained, “To Lim Corp. I don’t have much time.”

“But,” Jinyoung hesitated.

Another thought struck you. “Get Yuto on the phone.”

Jinyoung stammered, “But we have to…”

Heat flushed through you and you snapped, “Jinyoung, can you do your job or do I need to get someone else?”

Jinyoung leveled his eyes at you and frowned pensively. He recognized the work to be done and decided in that moment he would move mountains to help you get revenge. “I can do it.”

“Good,” you replied, giving him a single nod of your head. “Get him on the goddamn phone. I don’t care how.”

Jinyoung rifled through his pocket. The moment his phone was in hand, he whispered, “It’s him. He’s calling.”

You took the phone and answered, “Yuto.”

“It wasn’t me,” he told you gravely.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t throw you from the tallest building.”

Yuto called your name. He sounded sympathetic.

“Don’t you dare,” you hissed, hands shaking. “Don’t you ever speak to me like there’s any shred or compassion left in either of us.”

Yuto began, “I truly…”

“I told you Jaebeom wasn’t the monster you want him to be. I told you he would find common ground with you, but instead you put a bullet in him!”

“I didn’t,” Yuto exclaimed, frantic. “It wasn’t me, I swear!”

You grit your teeth. “I will never believe you.”

“I swear on my mother.”

You paused, knowing the weight of those words. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you took a steadying breath.

“My mother is the only person who ever loved me. I swear on my mother’s grave, I didn’t have Jaebeom shot.”

You could hear the sincerity and you could hear the slight moisture of tears seeping into his voice. Still enraged, you asked roughly, “Then, who did?”

Yuto answered without missing a beat, “Our father.”

The world spun around you for a moment. Your heart was suddenly in your stomach. That was too heavy an accusation for you to process. “Why the hell would Mr. Lim have his own son shot?”

Yuto replied, “Because Jaebeom wants to end it all. When he takes over, he wants to end everything illegal that Lim Corp has its hands in. The only problem is Lim Corp is built on crime. Nothing will be left but its shell. So Jaebeom wants to finish it altogether.”

You bit your lip.

“Our father will never allow his family’s legacy and influence to go away like that,” Yuto continued bitterly. “Why else would this happen right after Jaebeom forcibly took over the company?”

You shivered, suddenly cold, and asked, “This was a warning or a punishment?”

“Both.”

You sighed loudly.

Yuto called your name once more and said, “Do what you want with me. I admit - I wanted to kill him. I was so angry and I hated him for rejecting me. But now I see he’s the only family I have left. I couldn’t do it. I’m weak. I’m not like my father.”

“Neither is Jaebeom,” you whispered, glancing up to see Jinyoung on another phone.

Yuto paused, but finally asked tentatively, “What now?”

You squared your shoulders and growled, “I’m going to destroy him and you’re going to help me.”

“Done,” said Yuto.

You hung up and murmured, “Jinyoung?”

Jinyoung moved the phone away from his mouth and said, “They rushed him straight into surgery.”

Tears threatened between your lashes, but you held them at bay. Shaking away your emotion, you locked eyes with the bodyguard in the rearview mirror. Mark was steady, but he looked vaguely relieved.

“Mark, I need you to arrange a meeting as soon as possible.”

He cocked a brow. “With whom?”

Barely fifteen minutes later, Mark opened the back door and you slid out briskly. Never had you conducted a back alley deal before, but there was a first time for everything.

And you were a woman on a mission.

Mark stood poised at your side. With Jaebeom gone, you were now the focus of his protection. He had failed Jaebeom, but Mark swore he would not fail you. No matter the cost.

A figure ambled from the other side of the alley and the sight of him made you set your jaw.

Pulling a red lollipop from his mouth with a smack, Jackson asked lightly, “To what do I owe the pleasure, Mrs. Lim?”

You approached him a little closer, hell in your eyes, and asked, “Which is your master - money or power?”

“Money,” Jackson answered without having to think.

“You’re mine now.”

He smirked with amusement. “Is that so?”

You folded your arms. “Whatever Yuto has been paying you, I will double it. Whenever someone approaches you to betray me, whatever they offer - I will double it.”

Jackson fought a grin.

You spoke quietly, as if the walls had ears, “You will give me everything I need. I want undeniable proof that Mr. Lim ordered the hit on his son, my husband.”

Jackson put the lollipop back in his mouth, smiling mischievously as he turned and began walking away.

You shouted after him, “Don’t call me until you have it.”

Jackson waved a hand. “Yes, mam.”

You turned back to the car, putting your hands in your lap as Mark shut the door behind you. “Jinyoung?”

“Still in surgery,” he replied, phone to his ear.

You exhaled loudly.

When the towering skyscraper of Lim Corporation loomed outside your window painted in the hues left by the setting sun, you frowned in loathing. Swallowing back the bile in your throat, you stepped out and strode up the small incline.

There was nothing to do but wait. Wait for Jaebeom to pull through. Wait for Jaebeom to die. It was such a devastating game of tug of war that you had all but stopped thinking about it. In your mind, Jaebeom was away on business and you had to hold down the fort in his absence.

And so you had drowned yourself in phone calls. You needed to know who were allies and who were enemies.

Jinyoung and Mark followed you into the office, your constant pair of shadows. They hinged on your every word. You were in charge now. They were soldiers awaiting their orders.

Glaring at the chair before the windows, you imagined Jaebeom sitting upon it. That’s where he was supposed to be - not fighting for his life in a hospital.

You clenched your hands into fists and staggered through another breath.

“Do you want to be alone?” Jinyoung asked gently.

“Five minutes,” you replied. “Clock me. Not a second longer. Then, we get it done.”

Jinyoung nodded, shutting the door behind him and leaving you to your thoughts.

Across the hall, Mr. Lim stalked around the long table like a shark circling prey. The room was weighted with uncertainty and fear as each of the men watched him through shifting gazes.

Finally, Mr. Lim came to the chair at the end, reserved for the head of the company. Sinking into it slowly, he fought a smile and began, “It is with a heavy heart that I resume operational control of Lim Corp. And I vow to make…”

The double doors burst open and all eyes were on you as you marched in, not stopping until you were leering over your father-in-law. “I would apologize for interrupting,” you announced with force. “But this is my meeting.”

Mr. Lim glanced up at you, absolutely scathing. “Excuse me?”

“And you’re in my seat,” you hissed.

Mr. Lim laughed loudly. The board members looked at you in mixed confusion and shock.

You were quick to assert, “I am the acting head of Lim Corp.”

Mr. Lim rose slowly, both hands braced on the table. “On what grounds?” he asked darkly, jaw clenched.

“Spousal right,” you told him flatly, not the least intimidated by a man who would dare hurt his own child for the sake of greed and ego. “My husband is currently incapacitated, as I’m sure you’ve heard, and in his absence, all of his entitlements and ownerships fall to me - his wife. Lim Corp included.”

The blood drained from Mr. Lim’s face when he realized you were right. In every law and court ruling in the world, the spouse always won. “This is outrageous,” he snarled.

“She is within her rights,” added Mark from behind you.

You crept closer, scowling, and spat, “For what you have done to him, I will revisit on you a thousand times over. Jaebeom was kind. He was fair. You will never get an ounce of kindness or fairness from me.”

Despite Mark lurking over your shoulder, Mr. Lim cursed, “Listen here, you little bitch…”

Nothing in this man scared you. Especially now that you knew what he was. He was a sniveling coward and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to put him in his place. And so you leaned in and whispered for his ears only, “He was going to let you keep your pension. Your respect. Your honor and dignity. I’m stripping you of everything. I will ostracize anyone that tries to pay respects at your fucking funeral.”

“I will make you regret this.”

Mark had moved so close he was pressed up against your back. At any moment, he was going to sock your father-in-law in the face. He despised this man with every fiber of his being.

“Not hardly,” you countered calmly. “I have the proof, Mr. Lim. If you ever darken our doorway again, I’ll hand everything to the attorney general. Do you prefer to die in prison?”

Mr. Lim swallowed. He looked from you to Mark as if weighing his options.

The door opened, breaking the silence, and you didn’t bother to see who had walked in.

It was Yuto. Just as you expected.

Mr. Lim stomped past you and approached his son, snapping, “You and I will…”

“Don’t bother, father dearest,” you called after him. “Mr. Adachi works for me now.”

“If he dies,” Yuto trailed, glancing at you. “Hell hath no fury.”

Mr. Lim took one last look around the room, vowing revenge, and left without another word.

You released the breath you had been holding. Mark touched your shoulder then and you gave him the faintest smile of gratitude. Mark nodded, beaming with pride.

Jinyoung charged to your side, phone in hand. “It’s the hospital. They won’t talk to anyone but the spouse.”

You took the phone and stared down at the screen. You could hear the words manifesting in your mind, We regret to inform you…

Biting your lip, you held the phone to your ear and rasped, “Hello?”

“Mrs. Lim? This is Dr. Jung. We have been expecting you at the hospital to speak to you in person.”

Those words stung, but you maintained your composure and your response was icy, “I have been handling my husband’s pressing business affairs. I know that’s what he would want.”

“Of course. Of course. I did not mean to sound judgmental.”

You softened. “I believe you. Please tell me the nature of this call.”

“We have just left the operating room. The bullet was precariously close to his aorta, which is why the surgery has taken this long, but we were able to remove it and repair the surrounding damage.”

Your knees buckled and you landed in a heap on the chair, a sob bursting from your chest. You were vaguely aware of Mark’s hand suddenly on your arm. “He’s okay?” you cried.

Jinyoung and Mark both breathed in relief.

“He has a long road of healing ahead of him, but yes, we expect him to fully recover,” said Dr. Jung.

“Thank you, sir. Thank you,” you stammered. “I will be at the hospital very soon.”

“He may be unconscious for a bit, but I’m sure he will appreciate waking up to you by his side.”

You smiled, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. “He most certainly will.”

Saying your goodbyes, you ended the call and handed the phone back to Jinyoung. Then, you glanced around the room. Every man seated at the table fixated their attention to you.

The smile faded from your face and you cleared your throat. Jaebeom had pulled through. You felt almost silly for ever doubting him.

Hardening your gaze, you laced your fingers together before you and scanned the room once more. The men were studying you cautiously now and your only regret was that Jaebeom was not there to watch you finish what he had started.

“Members of the board, my sincerest apologies,” you began gracefully, lifting the corners of your lips. “You’re all fired.”

chapter 25 ⇤ chapter 26 ⇥ chapter 27

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

#got7 fanfiction #im jaebum #got7 scenario #got7 imagine #got7 fanfic #got7 fic #jaebum scenario #jaebum au #jaebum imagine #jaebum fanfic #jaebum fic #got7 au #got7 angst

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cognacdelights · 4 years

Text

before you go

my outer banks masterlist

add yourself to my taglist

summary: jj myabank has finally cleared up his act and enlisted in the military. however, when the time comes to ship out for his first overseas tour, saying goodbye is a lot harder than he imagined.

warnings: vague mentions of abuse. sad fluff.

A heavy sigh left her lips as she stepped forward, towards the fully kitted out boy before her. Her eyes were wide - with both heartache and pride - as she took the entirety of him in. If anybody had told her a year ago that JJ Maybank, Kildare Island’s resident troublemaker, would have cleaned up his wayward stoner boy act and enlisted in the military, she would have laughed in their face. Yet here they were, in their final few moments before his first tour of The Middle East - his first tour of active combat.

“Come here, you,” her voice was soft as a small smile upturned the corners of her lips. She opened her arms for the blonde boy, taking a second step towards where he stood - his heavy, over-sized backpack sat beside his feet. As her arms coiled around his athletic, toned body, he relaxed into the comfort of her warm embrace; the same warm embrace he had taken shelter in many, many times before. However, this time, it was different. This time, it would be their last dose of physical contact for five whole months.

JJ’s heart wrenched as the realisation that he had to leave her behind sunk in. Nuzzling his head further into the crook of her neck, he took in the familiar scent that he adored so much - savouring the sweet aroma of her perfume for as long as he possibly could. She placed a gentle, tender kiss in his tousled, blonde hair, her arms tightening their hold around his broad, muscular shoulders. Both had spent weeks preparing for this moment, upon hearing the news of his deployment. Yet, here - in the moment, both were unable to comprehend the weight of their emotions.

For years, she had been his safe place, his haven, his escape from the cruel realities of his world. Despite her being three years older, she had grown up with him; in fact, she had grown up with all of them. JJ, John B and Pope. Even Kiara. They were cut from the same cloth, fruits of the same seed, children of The Cut; all they had was each other but none of them minded. They got through life together, no matter what challenges were thrown their way, with each other at their side.

Her maturity meant that she knew of the demons that he faced; she was aware the second he showed up to their designated hangout spot with a swollen, bruised eye and a busted lip several weeks after his mother’s selfish disappearance. She didn’t make a fuss in front of everyone, and she let him tell his epic, fabricated story of how he had gotten into a fight with some of the rich kids from Figure Eight. But when he caught her eye, all he could see was the heartbreak she harboured for him and the yearning to take his pain away.

Since that day, she had become his crutch; she tried to keep him out of trouble, she made sure that he ate, she went above and beyond to make sure that he was safe. As they grew older, and the evil his father projected upon him intensified, she became his home; she would clean up the cuts and the bruises, she would hold him close at night and whisper tender words into his ear as he cried himself to sleep, she would comfort his trembling body through the vicious nightmares. She was there for him like nobody else was, like nobody else could be.

“I swear to God, if you don’t come back to me alive and in one piece I will find you, in Heaven or Hell - and I will make The Middle East seem like a day trip to the county fair. Do you understand me?” she threatened. Her voice held an air of teasing to her words, yet JJ knew that she was somewhat serious. In all of their chaotic, dysfunctionally beautiful moments, he had become her home too. They were all each other really knew, which was why saying goodbye was so painfully difficult for the both of them.

“I don’t doubt that one bit,” JJ chuckled in response - his arms proceeding to clinch her petite frame considerably tighter than before. His chapped lips placed a placid, loving kiss against the exposed skin of her neck as his glazed-over eyes squeezed themselves shut, the tips of his lashes tickling as they grazed over her collarbone. “I’m going to miss you so much, Y/N,” he mumbled, his words barely coherent as he forced himself even further into her embrace. He was achingly reluctant to let go of her - the uncertainty of having to face the barbarity of the big, wide world without her hand to hold his unsettling him massively.

“I’m going to miss you too, J,” she whispered in an endearing tone, “more than you know.” Her fingers tangled themselves nonchalantly in the disheveled ends of his dirty blonde hair, twirling the straw-like strands clockwise around her plastic, stick-on nails. It was these trivial comforts that he would miss the most; sometimes all he needed in life was her to run her dainty fingers through his hair as he relaxed into her compassionate embrace.

“Private Maybank,” a bellowing, emotionless voice hollered, interrupting their tender moment together, “put your bit of fluff down and get your sorry backside on that plane, now.” On command, JJ retreated from the safety of her affectionate grasp - his unwillingness to let go evident in the way his calloused, bear-like hands lingered hesitantly on the cold skin of her arms.

“Yes, Sarge,” he conformed to his orders, sending his Sergeant an understanding nod. She peered upwards at the now straight-postured boy, her eyes wide and poised to spill the salty tears which brimmed her waterline. However, she held them back with all her might; she knew that just one tear would compromise everything he had worked so hard for. One, single tear shed by her would have him refusing to leave for combat in an instant. That was the one thing she couldn’t have, no matter how much she wanted it. The military had done so much for JJ - it had taught him things that she could never. He was a better person now - a better man. She wasn’t going to stand in the way of that.

“I love you,” he uttered the weighted words. Those three forbidden words were rarely voiced by JJ Maybank, and had never been directed towards anybody other than her. He knew that he loved her - and he had for a while, he just wasn’t entirely sure how much he loved her. JJ had always been confused when it came to her, he was afraid of mistaking platonic tenderness for romantic affection. He couldn’t distinguish between them in his own behaviour towards her, nevertheless in her behaviour towards him. All he could decipher was that there was a love there - and that was all he needed for the time being.

“I love you too,” she forced her chapstick-coated lips upwards into a small, but meaningful, smile. With those words surpassing her lips, he picked up the hefty, cumbersome backpack which had remained at his feet and threw it over his shoulder. JJ hesitated for a fleeting second before nodding his head as his ultimate goodbye - he couldn’t bring himself to physically say the word, it was too final. “Stay safe,” her weak, unstable voice called out as he made his way towards the dreaded barrack doors.

She felt a heavy arm curl around her petite shoulders as she watched him go. The gathering tears which she had so valiantly fought back whilst in his presence prevailed as they began to spill down her blush-tinted cheeks. A sob croaked from her throat as she settled herself into the soothing, reassuring hold of John B. Silently, she willed him not to turn around for one last, longing glance. She didn’t want him to see her so feeble, so hurt.

“He’ll be okay,” John B consoled her in his deep, mellow tone, “it’s JJ. He’s got the survival instincts of a cockroach, he’d survive a nuclear war, even on weed. There’s no getting rid of that boy.”

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smolanon · 3 years

Text

Childish (c!Schlatt x Reader)

Hello everyone! I have officially returned from my hiatus! Sorry I was gone for so long, but I think I'm feeling much better now. I wrote this as sort of a lighthearted return to writing. I have quite a few fics in the works right now, so let me know if you wanna W.I.P list! I'm trying out scheduling this fic so yeah, let's hope that goes alright!

This fic was inspired by this headcanon on @boobberries blog, sent in by @paintpaletteanon! Thank you so much to the both of them for allowing me to use it in this fic. :) I take it as a gift of peace for starting an angsty Schlatt movement on Roni's blog!

Type: humor, fluff

Word count: 1,257 words

Most of the time, you were a pretty tame person. Between George's oversleeping, Quackity's over-the-top energy, and Schlatt's unprofessionalism, somebody had to play the straight man or else Manburg's entire cabinet would fall apart. Everyone was quite used to your more mild nature; it went so far as to leak into your person life with Schlatt at times. Which is why your poor, unsuspecting boyfriend was caught so off guard by you acting like such a little shit.

It was an average day when it happened for the first time. Schlatt was reading through some papers with a pensive look on his face and you came up behind him, lightly touching his arm and opening your mouth to ask if everything was alright. However, before a single sound could leave your lips, Schlatt was jumping and letting out a surprised bleat. When you say jump, you mean leapt. It was a good thing you were outside at the time because he reached a height you had no clue anyone could reach.

When he spun around to face you, starting to chew you out for sneaking up on him, you couldn't help but let out an incredulous laugh.

"How did you jump so high?" You said between fits of giggles. His cheeks flushed and he glared daggers into your soul.

"I'm a goat hybrid, dumbass. Don't do that again."

Now, normally you would listen to that prompting, especially at work, and the scenario would be packed away into his mind as an embarrassing, yet fond memory. So he was absolutely flabbergasted when he rounded a corner to head into the Whitehouse and was greeted with-

"Boo!" You cackled as he jumped once more. He swore at your hunched over form, smacking you upside the head with some rolled up papers.

"Why the hell did you do that?!" He placed a hand over his pounding heart, adrenaline rushing through his veins.

"I'm s-" You cut yourself off with a wheeze, "I'm sorry! It's just s-so hilarious!" You descended into another fit of laughter. He rolled his eyes at you fondly, trying to hide his smile from you.

The next few weeks were absolute torture. He could not turn a corner, leave his back to you, or hand you any loud items because a good 80% of the time, it would result in him leaping in distress. He threatened to make you sleep on the couch if you continued to do it. Afterwards, he found a pillow and a few blankets on the couch before getting the daylights spooked out of him once again.

Never had he seen you act like such a child. Quackity's endorsement of the behavior was absolutely no help whatsoever. The poor ceilings of most buildings he went had many dents in them. You could find him anywhere at any time, scare the life out of him, then promptly disappear, probably to set up the next spook. He could not find a moment of peace.

But then, suddenly, it stopped. Great, right? Wrong. The lack of the expected shocks disturbed him deeply. He turned every corner like an animal that knew it was being hunted. Any time you would lag behind while you walked, he would tense as if preparing to be grabbed, but the sensation never came. You had stopped, and he finally started to relax. Normalcy had returned, and his peace and quiet along with it.

He read through some papers on his desk, thoroughly engrossed in his work. Concentration was hard to come by for him, so he was incredibly focused on the documents. The perfect target.

He did not hear the door when it opened. Your feet made no sound as you moved across the floor like a wildcat, ready to strike. He didn't even sense your maniacal presence behind him as you poised, grinning, before your hands shot out and quickly grabbed his sides.

It all hit him in quick, unpleasant waves. The initial jolt of panic, followed immediately by his heart stopping, and then pure unfiltered dread.

"FOR FUCKS SAKE!"

You keeled over laughing, leaning heavily against his desk for support. He rubbed his head, glaring up at the two new dents in the ceiling. When his enraged gaze fixed on you, you only laughed harder.

"Is this funny to you? Does this look like a fucking joke?" He tried to sound angry, to seem scary. The sinister grin on his face would have scared most into silence. But, alas, you were not like most people.

"I think it's the funniest thing I've seen in years." You grinned up at him.

"I'm going to kill you." He growled through his teeth, lunging forward and trying to grab you.

Lucky for you, you were faster than him and leapt out of his reach with a delighted shriek. You took off down the hallways as he shouted after you.

"Get back here you fucking brat!"

Your laughter and footsteps filled the building, most of the employees sending odd glances your way as you sprinted past, only to tuck their heads down as the President followed in suit. Ahead of you, Quackity poked his head out into the hallway, his face a mixture of concern and amusement.

"The hell did you do?" He shouted at you.

"I'll explain later!" You yelled back over your shoulder as you passed him, face pulled into a grin.

You thought that as soon as you got out of the building, he would stop chasing you. You were wrong. It felt like fire was in your lungs as you hit the half demolished wall. You only had time to turn around before Schlatt was pinning you to the wall.

"Gotcha!" You laughed, squealing and trying to move under his arm. "Oh, no you don't!" He scooped you up in his arms, a small reluctant smile pulling at his lips.

You twisted halfheartedly in his arms, still laughing uncontrollably. A small kick to the wall was able to knock him off his balance just enough to send him plummeting to the ground, and you along with him. The grassy ground knocked the wind out of your lungs momentarily, very briefly cutting off your laughter, but as soon as you started up again, you could hear Schlatt begin to laugh along with you.

"What now, genius?" He grinned up at you. You laughed, wiggling just a little more before settling into his arm and leaning in to peck his lips.

"You've been an absolute menace, what makes you think you deserve kisses?" He narrowed his eyes at you.

You pouted up at him.

"Puppy eyes will not work on me, you little shit." His lips twitched a little; he was fighting a smile.

You rested your chin against his chest, whimpering a little.

"No." His words faultered slightly.

"Please?"

You could see his resolve break, and his lips finally tugged up into a smile. "Fine."

You cheered happily and wrapped your arms around his neck, pecking his lips repeatedly and giggling between each one.

"Seriously, what's got you all riled up?" He laughed out, resting his forehead against yours.

"I just need a break from being all serious sometimes." You admitted, smiling up at him and placing a softer, longer kiss on his lips.

"Well, that is fair, just maybe be a pest to Quackity next time you feel like being a shit, alright?" He spoke once you pulled away.

You laughed and nodded. "Alright, but don't expect me to not use your jumping habit against you in the future."

#Schltt #Fluff #Humor #Just a little fic to ease back into writing

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bumbleberrysky · 4 years

Text

alexa, play candyshop (bass boosted) | 01

pairing: gabriel x reader genre: soulmate au, canon divergent around s13, hurt/comfort, humour, future smut (probs) wc: 3.2k rating: sfw warnings: none except the appearance of battered gabriel fresh out of asmodeus’ hold notes: welcome to my first dive into writing for supernatural! i saw someone say that s13 lit a fire under their ass like nothing else and honestly i don’t think i could have described it better. i binged so much while catching up the past few weeks idk who i am anymore

You knew there was a reason some divine power brought you to the Winchesters all those years ago, but to this day you still have no idea what that reason is. It's something you're destined to find out soon though, especially when you return to the bunker after months away and find not only a new face, but one that belongs to someone who up until that point you'd thought was dead. What does his return have to do with the changes you're suddenly experiencing in yourself? Will you finally find out the reason you'd been brought here in the first place? Maybe...

Chuck works in mysterious ways after all.

next.

“Honeys, I’m home!”

The bunker has the same light aroma of musty air and metal as you let yourself in through the heavy front door, feet carrying you, out of habit more than anything, to the steel landing that marks the entrance to the fortress. It’s been so long since you were last here that the two men you used to hunt with regularly have likely forgotten they gave you a spare key. Well, they hadn’t exactly given it to you so much as you’d made a copy on the down-low and kept it for occasions such as this.

One hand keeps pressure on your arm, an attempt to stem the bleeding, and the other carries your single carry-on bag. You make it about halfway down the stairs before your gaze swings out over the foyer and you freeze, mid-step.

Sam and Dean, the two figures you expected to find here, are standing stock-still with their guns half-poised (not directed at you) and expressions on their faces that are a combination of shocked, pissed, and extremely confused (mostly directed at you). Following the line of their weapons leads you to the other two occupants in the room, most definitely unexpected and completely unfamiliar.

One is in rags, cowering, and whimpering, unrecognisable underneath filthy tangled hair that covers his face, and the other is in a prim suit marred only by blood and a bit of dirt, barely a single strand of dark hair atop his head out of place.

“Twinkletoes? What the hell are you doing here?!”

It’s Dean’s stupid, old nickname for you that breaks you out of your shock, a glare already falling onto your face with the practised ease of muscle memory.

“I’ll answer that when you tell me what the hell I just walked in on—” You come the rest of the way down the stairs, slower and more cautious now, with your gaze trained on the two at the other end of the table. It’s when the man in rags finally looks up from where he had been cowering and you catch a glimpse of his face, bloody and bruised but instantly familiar, that your words swell and catch in your throat.

“… Gabriel?”

The brothers in front of you heave a great, unanimous sigh, a look passed between them telling you that you’re about to be on the receiving end of a very ludicrous and typical Winchester story.

x x x

The first time you met Gabriel was not long after you’d gone through the biggest plot twist of your entire life. You’d gone to sleep in your bed, in your home, and woken up in a completely different part of the world, like some magician had snapped their fingers and you’d been the punchline of their very next trick. Much to your regret and distaste, some minor investigation revealed that where you’d woken up in the backseat of a car on the side of the road was in some state in the US. You’d sworn to yourself that you would never step foot here in your entire life and then, like God or whoever reigned above was laughing straight in your face, you’d just up and woken up in some random car in a place that made you long to be literally anywhere else.

Preferably somewhere where the occupants didn’t have such easy access to guns.

…like the two men who screamed and pointed theirs at you when you popped up from their backseat after they climbed into the cabin, fast food in their arms.

That was the first time you’d met the infamous hunting brothers, the Winchesters, and the first time of many you’d nearly died in their company.

It had taken a while for them to trust you, but after you inviting yourself onto a few of their cases and saving their asses a handful of times (ignoring the amount of times they saved yours because you forgot that almost every American slept with a gun beneath their pillow) they’d eventually taken you under their proverbial wing. It helped that you had literally nowhere else to go and nothing but the clothes on your back and a bare handful of belongings to your name. Once they figured out you weren’t hiding anything up your sleeve and that you’re just naturally annoying and a little dumb, they’d happily invited you to become an official-unofficial part of their little hunting gang. This means you’re also familiar with the hilarious angel they have in their back pocket. Castiel is a riot and one of the things you miss most when you go off to hunt on your own.

Having been around during the whole ordeal of Lucifer and Michael going through the motions of continuing their family spat on an apocalyptic scale, you too grew to be familiar with their youngest brother, the archangel Gabriel. Of course, while you’d been there for a fair amount of the angel-turned-trickster’s shenanigans, you weren’t there for the final appearance he made at a hotel in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. In complete juxtaposition to the fact that you could count on one hand the amount of times you’d interacted properly with Gabriel, the sensations you experienced at the news of his sacrifice, his death, were unlike anything you’d ever felt before. You like to consider yourself much more emotionally healthy and with an emotional range far larger than that of a teaspoon and the Winchesters’, but that… that news was something that it had taken you months to recover from fully.

And even then, apparently your recovery wasn’t as complete as you’d thought, because hearing what the boys have told you now has made your eyes burn and your stomach turn into a nest of manic bees, your insides lined with flowers and pollen. You think, for a moment, that you just might be sick.

You’re sitting in the library, Gabriel having been taken to a room of his own by one Winchester while the other fills you in before they’re both reunited before you, and you’re in the kind of mood where you sort of want to just sit there and dissociate for a few hours, truthfully. You can tell you’re not going to get that opportunity though, so in the wake of the bombshell they’d just dropped on you about all you’d missed in the past few months—that they had apparently forgotten to tell you over the phone when you checked in occasionally— you do the next best thing you can think of for the moment.

Put it on the backburner, baby.

You massage your temple with your fingers as you lean your head into your hand, a sigh escaping through your nose. “See, this is why it feels like I have been brought on as a babysitter—I leave for a few months and you old men manage to dig up another almost-apocalypse and find and raise Lucifer’s kid?”

“Alright, first of all,” Dean whips out a finger to point at you, filling you with glee. You’ve barely been back a few hours and already you’re stepping back into your favourite “stir-the absolute-shit-out-of-Dean” pants. As always, he is almost pitifully quick to rise to the bait. “Old? Who are you calling old? Alright so maybe we have a few years on you but that’s just because you’re a toddler and w—”

“Dean,” Sam places a placating hand on his brother’s shoulder, a look that seems to be a mixture of amusement and exasperation crossing his features. “You’re making it too easy for her.”

The older Winchester pauses, turning to pin you with an accusing look. You smile, not even attempting to appear innocent. After staring at you for several long moments, Dean makes the ‘eyes-on-you’ gesture with his fingers before turning away, rolling the tension from his shoulders as he takes a seat across from you.

“You were gone for almost a year this time, did you have any luck, well, leaving?” Sam brings your attention back to him, the question dragging out a sigh that feels like it’s been dredged from the very depths of your being.

“No,” you answer, sounding somewhat petulant even to your own ears. “Why is it so hard to leave this god-forsaken country! I hate it here. I’m sick of trying to make a run for it and being zapped back into a swamp, or—or a pool at the top of a penthouse suite in the middle of some random city! It sucks balls.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Dean waves his hand, enjoying the dirty look you give him. “So you still haven’t found whatever purpose you’re meant to fulfil while here?”

You huff, shaking your head. “No. It’s been years and I still have no idea why I woke up here that day. Or why I can’t leave.”

Over the time you’ve spent with the Winchesters, a few things became apparent to the three of you about your stay here. One, it was indefinite. You’d discovered quickly that you are, quite literally, unable to leave. Every time you get close to escaping this country you black out and wake up back inside. Sometimes in a helpful place, sometimes…. Not.

Two, the three of you had thrown around and entertained the idea that maybe you’d been brought here for a reason, that like them maybe you’d been divinely allocated a role to play. But you’ve been through a lot with the Winchesters, whether in person or by association, and still…

You’re no closer to being able to leave and return from whence you came.

You have no idea why you’re here!

This is something that has really contributed to your temporary career as a hunter here. That isn’t to say that this profession isn’t something you were involved in before you came here, but you’ve really… you really dove into it, whether as a distraction or as an ongoing investigation as to what on earth was going to set you free of your tie to this place. A part of you thinks that each case you take on, each person or family you save and creature you slay might be the one reason that brought you here, and the one task that with its completion will grant you freedom. You’ve never been a fan of being caged; just because this one spans a grand total of 9.834 million square kilometres doesn’t make it any less of one.

This most recent expedition that led you to part from the Winchesters for such a long time was another of your failed attempts to leave. You think you’ve tried escaping at every possible point along the coastline and border by now, with a definite lack of success.

“Well, if it really is some divine intervention keeping you here, then it’s better if you just sit back and settle down, twinkletoes.” Dean huffs a laugh, leaning back in his chair with an accompanying creak from the wood. “Those divine types have proven to be… kind of assholes.”

You frown, but he isn’t saying anything you haven’t already thought. It’s part of why you’d settled so easily into hunting here, actually. ‘When in Rome…’, as they say. You’re familiar with the hunting grind and there is comfort in familiarity.

“Are you going to stay a while?” Sam asks, opening the first-aid box he’d first brought over when you’d settled down. Ah, right—you’d almost forgotten about the injury on your arm, despite the fact that you are still pressing a palm to it. You listen as he speaks, almost swearing you can detect a hint of hopefulness in his voice. “You still have a room here for you, of course. We haven’t touched anything inside.”

“Yeah, mostly because we didn’t wanna deal with the mess and the booby-trapped doors—” Dean’s under-the-breath mutter is cut off by your coo, a wide smile pulling your lips.

“Oh, you two missed me, didn’t you?” Instantly, you are successful in ruffling Dean’s feathers— Sam might take a bit more work, though. “I know I really light this dark, dingy place up but I didn’t know it was that bad without me! Ah, perhaps I will stay a while. You know, out of charity.”

“Sammy,” Dean says, beseeching. “It’s not too late—you hold her back and I’ll find her key. It’s not too cold, she’ll be alright outside.”

An appalled and affronted look slips onto your face and Sam has to clear his throat so that he doesn’t laugh and add to his brother’s torment.

“I’m not a misbehaving puppy,” you say, holding your arm out for Sam as he comes over and finally freeing your bloody hand. “Wait, unless you want me to be. Been broadening your horizons beyond animated tentacle porn have you, Deanie-bo-beenie?”

On cue, Dean’s face flushes light red, whether from anger or a brief spritz of embarrassment, only God knows. You can see Sam’s face grow tense from the effort of holding back noise in your peripheral as he tends to your arm.

“You know what? I’m better than this. I’m gonna let it go.” Dean rises from his chair, making a show of dusting off your metaphorical drama. His light eyes flick to you, squinting. “I’m tired; I have a date with my memory foam pillow and nice, warm, feather duvet and a good night’s rest, so goodnight. I hope your bed has bed bugs, twinkletoes, and I hope they bite.”

“I hope you sleep well too, Dean!” you call after him, deciding you’ll have to give him a break from the bullying tomorrow or else he’ll explode before you can have much fun. “Do you want me to come tuck you in?”

“No! Goodnight!”

His yell and disappearance down the hall is followed a few moments later by the familiar sound of a door slamming shut,

“That’s not very fair of you,” Sam announces, sounding strained and very much like he’s trying not to laugh lest Dean has an ear pressed to his door. “He’s too tired to fight back right now.”

“I know,” you answer, wincing as he wipes down the laceration on your bicep and cleans the blood away with an alcohol wipe. It burns, but it’s definitely not the most painful thing you have ever experienced. “I hadn’t seen you guys in so long, though. I couldn’t help myself.”

Sam simply snorts, reaching for the needle and thread to being stitching the skin back together, and you breathe harshly through your nose as you reach for another topic to distract yourself.

“Are the two—sorry, the three of you actually dads now? To… to Lucifer’s half-angel kid? I thought angels getting frisky with humans was, uh… illegal up in heaven.”

You feel rather than see Sam roll his eyes, your own pointedly directed away from your arm where he has begun to get to work. “It’s Lucifer, y/n, I don’t think he cares about what’s illegal up in heaven.”

You purse your lips—he makes a fair point. Honestly, you feel a little silly for questioning it. “Right, and he’s… trapped in some other dimension? An alternate world where the apocalypse really happened.”

“Yep,” Sam says, hitting a particularly painful spot with his needle. You hiss, giving him a glare.

“I wasn’t even gone a year! Just hearing all this shit is stressing me out so much, dude.” You sigh, attempting to adjust your position in the wooden chair without jostling your arm too much. Thankfully, practice has made Sam quick at his job and already he is almost done piecing you back together. He finishes up with a knot, snipping the thread and then placing a large bandage carefully over the wound. He dusts his hands once done, standing from where he was leaning against the table and proceeding to loom over you like a T-Rex.

“You’re blocking my light, bro,” you inform him, narrowly avoiding a subsequent good-natured smack to your good arm. “Damn, what the hell! Didn’t you take an oath or some shit? I’m your patient!”

“I was studying law, not medicine,” Sam retorts dryly. He turns to leave and put the first aid supplies away, his back facing you but not before you see how his lips twitch. “So your annoying ass is free game.”

“Maybe so,” you acquiesce, rising from your seat with a light grunt as you jostle your arm. You consider asking Sam where Castiel is, to see if you can get a hit of the good stuff and skip the healing process, but think better of it. You always feel a bit bad asking him to heal you, though you barely ever have to since he’s like a rabid mother hen the second he sees blood on any of you. “God, I’m beat. I didn’t think I could get any more tired than I was before, but as always catching up with you two has aged me a few years and now I’m just about as tired as you two are all the time.”

Sam doesn’t rise to the ‘old man’ bait you dangle in front of him—never really does, if you’re being honest; that’s mostly Dean’s vice— but he does offer you a smile that is unexpectedly sincere and fond.

“Go to bed, toddler,” he retorts, before continuing in a softer tone, “… It’s good to see you again, y/n. I’m glad you’re here. Dean and Mom are going out on a hunt in the next few days and I think you can really help with, uh… the whole Gabriel thing.”

For a moment, you don’t say anything. You’d sort of been trying to avoid thinking about the elephant in your mind, for the very same reason that makes your eyes burn once more. It hurts, a lot, thinking and imagining what he must have gone through at the hands of Asmodeus. It feels like your heart is going to tear itself to pieces in your chest from the sheer extent of your empathy and how terrible you feel for him. The Gabriel you saw cowering before you earlier is nothing like the confident feathery asshole you used to know.

Even having only seen him once, it’s enough to make you fearful of the possibility that… he might be too far gone to ever return to that last echo of his previous self.

“I’m not sure what I’ll even be able to do to help,” you respond, approaching the doorway to the hall with your bag in tow. You pause to finish what you’re saying, meeting Sam’s puppy-like gaze from across the room. “But I’ll try. It hurts to see him like that, so… I’ll stay a while, to do whatever I can.”

Sam’s answering thankful smile and nod is all you can ask for in response as you turn and head further into the bunker, dragging your bags back to the room you’d come to call your own over the years. Your gaze strays on the way to one of the doors that has a little note taped on saying, ‘please do not open suddenly or loudly’, undoubtedly the room that they have allocated to Gabriel for the time being. Heart heavy in your chest, you continue on down the hall and tear your gaze away.

You’re not sure how much you can do for him, but you hope you can do something.

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captainjimothycarter · 4 years

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Prompt: Peggy is sick (like, cold... nothing serious) and hates being taken care of, but Steve isn't going to let her suffer alone.

SOFT. This should be 40s AU but I suck at medical from the 40s. So hello modern, no-powers AU.

Peggy Carter hated, more than anything in life was to be sick. She was not a good patient, she was miserable when sick. She mostly hated when people doted after her like she was some weak, helpless person.

She wasn’t. She was just sick.

And right now, she was miserable. She couldn’t breathe out her left nostril while her right nostril wheezed every time she attempted. Her throat felt raw and aching and worst of all, she couldn’t get enough to drink. Top it off, her body was trying to decide if she should have a fever on top of all of this or not.

The knocking at her apartment door made her groan, only because dragging herself to her feet and stumbling to the door. She almost fell when it opened by itself, another groan dragging from her lips when she saw who was it.

Steve. Of course her hot, new neighbor, and landlord of the apartments.

“I’m sorry,” Steve flinched when she almost fell, lowering the plastic bag he had in hand. “When you didn’t answer, I was just going to drop this off inside the door, I promise.”

Peggy wanted to get mad, wanted to throw a fit and demand that Steve at least tell her he was coming by or give her some warning about how he was going to invade her privacy, but then it struck her. He probably had and she’d been non the wiser with her phone currently off to avoid people from work blowing her up about a new patient.

So she couldn’t get mad even if she wanted to.

“I didn’t think you were that type,” she mumbled, speaking out of her nose and no louder than a whisper given her situation. “To invade other’s privacy, I mean.” She could see just how awkward this 6’0, 240-pound man was, looking impossibly small somehow in her doorway.

“No, no I’m not. I grew up with landlords like that and I fuckin’ hated it.” In fact, Peggy got the impression he hated being a landlord too. His biggest passion seemed to be the pastries and sweets he brought around every Friday.

It’s why rent was so cheap and everyone was lovely taken care of, every little need met. He normally catered to those struggling, Steve told her once when they were walking from apartment to apartment to see which one she liked. He catered to the elderly who could barely get up somedays or to the single moms and those on hard times, and especially veterans. Why the hell she was picked as a tenant, she had no idea. She was none of those things and quite frankly, she was almost afraid to ask.

“What’s in the bag?” Peggy asked, the question coming out nasally. Even Steve flinched.

“Oh, uh, chicken noodle soup courtesy of my ma. She was the blonde lady you spoke to the other day when you dropped off the rest.” Steve’s face flushed a shade of pink and shrugged his impossibly big shoulders. “She said you sounded sick and made this. Guess she was right.”

Peggy’s tongue darted out to lick her dry lips. The smell of the broth made her stomach grumble, becoming fully aware that she hadn’t eaten in forever. She could remember Steve’s ma, almost a spitting image of her with the hair and eyes, even the same freckled nose.

“Do you want to...come in?” Her head jerked and Peggy regretted that action, nearly stumbling back if it wasn’t for Steve’s arm reaching out to prevent her from making contact with the coat rack.

“Sure.” He paused, looking her up and down. Her nose was a bright shade of red and her eyes rimmed red like she’s been rubbing at them. She curled in on herself, like trying to huddle in all her warmth. She didn’t wear her normal poised clothes, instead of pajamas and a housecoat.

“You really are sick,” he breathed. “Jesus. How long have you been in here?”

“Three days. I hated calling out of work, but I can’t even smell, and believe it or not that’s a big part of my job.”

Steve lead her over to the couch and tucked her into the cushions, picking up a thick blanket to wrap around her. He turned the heater off and instead turned to the fireplace to get a roaring fire going. The windows were cracked to let in some fresh air.

He paused at her description, still kneeling by the fireplace with tender in hand. “Part of your job as a veterinarian is to smell the animals?”

His laugh made Peggy’s heart flutter. The way he laughed, he looked so carefree and warm. Like she wanted to bury herself in his chest and listen to his heart beating. “It is, if I can’t smell then I might miss a key factor as to how they’re sick. Plus, I can barely see straight.”

Steve’s tongue clicked on the roof of his mouth, nodding his head. “You do look terrible.”

“Anyone ever tells you that you suck at talking to women, Rogers?”

Steve smiled, giving a shrug of his shoulders. “Sometimes. You stay there, I’ll get you tea and soup heated up.”

By the time he was back with a tray full of crackers, soup, and tea, Peggy was properly dozing on the couch. Setting the tray down, he knelt down by Peggy’s side and used a cool rag to press to her forehead, glad to see that she wasn’t so hot. Maybe the fever had broken.

When her beautiful eyes opened, Steve’s smile only grew. This close, Peggy could count his lashes. Oh, he had such pretty eyes, flecks of green inside of a chamber of blue.

“Hi,” she breathed, fully aware right now that she hadn’t been able to brush her teeth for two days due to gagging and the mouth wash wasn’t helping her sick breath.

“Hi,” he breathed in return, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her head. “Soups heated up. C’mon, ma’s cure-all.”

It took some maneuvering to get her to sit up, involving having to lean into Steve’s chest because all energy had escaped her. He had to feed her and Peggy wanted to be frustrated at this, but all she could think about was being pressed into his warm body and thinking how nice this was.

The soup was wonderful, even with hints of ginger and pepper burning her throat. It was a pleasant burn and almost washed away the achingness. The chicken was tender and the noodles perfectly cooked, even Peggy, whose not a snob over food, had to admit it was a wonderful meal.

Steve seemed pleased that she finished half the bowl at least before calling it quits, setting the tray aside. He seemed to get ready to get up but she leaned back into him and this close, Steve smelled that sickness that settled when someone was sweating a fever out.

“Have you showered?” He asked, attempting to be nonchalant, but going by Peggy’s snort, it was anything, but.

“Again, terrible at talking to women.” Her head leaned back and she breathed out a long, aching sigh. “And no, I haven’t been able to get myself off of this couch beyond the kitchen and the bathroom. A bath seems like too much.”

“I think it’ll do you good, so will sleep in a proper bed, not the couch. C’mon, I’ll run you a bath.”

Before Peggy could protest about how her landlord was going to see her naked, Steve was gone. She could hear him upstairs and the sound of water running. When he came back down, his shirt soaked to the point she could see the abs through the white material.

Oh, that was a nice sight.

“Are you going to strip me?” She teased after Steve had slowly helped her up the stairs, a hand on her lower back to keep her steady after she refused to be carried.

“I-no-but-you.” Steve was fully aware his face was flushing a bright red, feeling how warm he was.

Peggy was rewarded with the sight of his neck turning a shade of red. He was a full-body blusher then. “I was teasing. I can strip. Just...be here to help me out if I fall? I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Steve stayed outside her closed bathroom door, the floorboard creaking under his feet as he teeter tottered, listening to her heavy sigh as she laid back in the warm water. “Are you okay?” He called.

“Yes, darling.” A pause, a splash of water. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Pegs. I’m going to go clean downstairs. Just call me if you need anything.”

Before he could do something stupid, Steve found himself rushing down the steps, shaking his head. While Peggy bathed, he took her sick blankets and pillows, airing them out after spraying them down with disinfectant. He wasn’t sure if she wanted them washed or not. He sprayed the couch down while he was at it, opening the windows more to let fresh air in.

A sweep through the kitchen and last check of the living room, Steve was satisfied that Peggy’s beautiful home wasn’t too sickly-smelling. When Peggy had called him, he was already up the stairs, a warm towel in hand.

“Here,” he called after knocking on the door, sticking the towel through the opened door.

“Oh, it’s warm. Thank you. I’ll be out in a minute.”

When the door opened, Steve saw the bath did help some. She looked better and her face wasn’t so flushed. “How do you feel?” He asked, taking the damp towel and leading her to her already warmed bed, thanks to the heater.

“A bit better, still feel like I could sleep a week.”

“I think you should. The soup should help you feel better in no time. Here.” Tucking her in, Steve paused to gently tuck a loose lock of hair behind her head. “Do you need anything?”

Unable to help it, her lips pursed in thought. “You to stay?”

The question posed made Steve stall in mid-step, turning to look back at Peggy. He fully expected to leave and call or text her later, not ask to stay.

“Stay? With you? Sure, I can...can go downstairs?”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “No, Steven. With me. In bed. Just to...cuddle, until I fall asleep?”

There was no answer to be had because World Infamous Worst-Talker-To-Women-Ever couldn’t say no, not when Peggy was asking to cuddle her until she slept. He slowly got into bed, on top of the covers. She pulled herself in, close to his chest, and breathed him in with a heavy, exhausted sigh.

This close, fresh from a bath, she no longer smelled like sickness, but instead soft and floral and Peggy.

“Get some rest,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her temple. “I’m right here.”

“You better be,” she grumbled in midst of his pecs. “Or I’ll have a serious complaint to the landlord in the morning.”

#Steggy #StevePeggy #Steggy Prompt #3pirouette #Sick Peggy #Modern Steggy

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theholycovenantrpg · 3 years

Photo

CONGRATULATIONS, MAL! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF DAMIEN WARD.

Admin Cas: At long last, our Antichrist is among us! Mal, your application left me totally enamoured by the vicious, wicked, and beautiful creature you placed before us. As you pointed out, Damien is a being of halves — half human, half divine, half animal — and yet, nothing in his life has even been done in halves. You breathed such life into him, made him so much more than his epithet or his Vice. The way you used the Prophecy that still lingers, even as it’s been fulfilled, and injected that into your future plots was just so exciting! And, I have to admit, when you mentioned the way that he tugs at his gloves as a threat, as a flex of his power — well, that just felt so DAMIEN. I can’t wait to see what you’ll do with him, and I’m beyond excited to see what ruin he wreaks on the dash! Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Mal

Age | 25

Personal Pronouns | They/them

Activity Level | I’m a full time student and have other general life obligations, but I’m generally fairly free on the evenings and weekends. In numbers I’d estimate my activity at probably a 6/10.

Timezone | EST

Triggers | REMOVED

How did you find the group? | I came across one of your beautiful promos in the lsrpg tag, if I recall correctly.

Current/Past RP Accounts | Jove

IN CHARACTER

Character | Damien Ward

What drew you to this character? | I had Damien’s bio lingering in the back of my head since I first read it, and then Admin Rosey kindly suggested he and I might be a good fit for one another, and I sunk my teeth in. The image of eight year-old Damien standing over a body with wolves licking blood from his hands stuck in me like a fishhook. He’s half-mortal, half-divine, half-wild creature. I am reminded of classical Greek heroes, defined by transgression, made great and made beautiful by the same things that make him monstrous.

He’s in a position with so much glimmering potential on the horizon. He’s fulfilled his purpose, in a sense, and yet the world remains rebuilt beneath him. Is it enough for it to lift him up as it has? He was not built for times of peace, and here he is living in one. This can only go on so long, and how could I not adore a character surrounded in so much tantalizing possibility?

Also, I am such a sucker for the fascinating family dynamics that surround him. His own mother, who willingly took Lucifer himself into her arms, could not bear the sight of what they’d made together. Damien was made for wild, inky shadows, to be at home among bloody-mouthed beasts. And yet, when hell opened it’s maw to swallow him whole, he found family. An Antichrist who is loved, who might wrestle with his sister like a wolf-pip and turn his face upwards to face the judgement of a mother, and care what she sees. The thought must have been so utterly foreign to Damien as a child, whose mother could not stir a single response from him, for whom he could never find reason to twist his mouth into a smile. And yet he offers Azazel everything she asks for, he listens attentively to his father and learns to craft words of bright silver. It is a remarkable thing, that one could look into Damien’s wild, inky darkness and learn to love him. Perhaps the only thing stranger is that he has learned to love back.

Also, he’s evil and sexy and I love him.

What future plots do you have in mind for the character? |

THE FORTUNATE SON | The family dynamics surrounding Damien are stunning, fire-forged and battle-tested, yet razor thin cracks grow along their obsidian surface. They are bound so tightly together, love each other with terrifying ferocity, yet even the closest of bonds can snap when struck from the right angle. They are all caught up in tantalizing possibility, but the crack most likely to become a fissure runs in a sharp, direct line straight from Damien’s ambition to Judas’.

Damine knows what his pseudo father is: The Great Betrayer. Damien is not blind to the fact that he is a dangerous man to share power with, even an invisible crown. But he took Damien in when he was a hollow and wild thing. The first creature whose eyes Damien found recognition in was a wolf. Judas was the second. Damien has killed with them both. Sons rising up against their fathers is one of the oldest stories in the world. Damien has already lived it, once. In dark, seething moments, he wonders if he may have to live it again. Is Judas, like the wolf, not a creature of his nature? Is placing his trust in his hands not akin to placing his head in the mouth of the beast? And yet... neither has failed him thus far.

(And yet, he thinks with a secret tenderness he knows may curse him, he loves them both.)

I can see either Damien or Judas turning against the other should the right leverage be applied to their deep yet delicate bond. A war between them would be a terror wrought upon the world and upon themselves. Conflict between them would be devastating and delectable, both to the characters and the world around them. It might seem nearly inevitable, two ambitions like theirs poised so keenly for conflict, and yet I just as easily see them united should they find another common enemy. Damien’s sights may turn towards Judas should he find himself unable to resist the ache in his jaw to destroy, yet should he be given something else tantalizing to gnash his teeth against, Damien may always find himself choosing the latter.

SEVEN DEVILS | Outside of his found family, the Vices, each carefully hand-picked for their own strains of terror, are Damien’s closest allies upon this earth. Though even then, loyalty, let alone trust, among demons is a dangerously fickle thing. Even the best of the creatures of hell are a ravenous, power-hungry lot, and Damien is not nearly foolish enough to think none of them might hunger for the power he wields as their self-appointed leader. Raum is the only among them he can truly trust, she who he plucked from obscurity and gave grand purpose, she who is the closest being to him not called family. Yet he chose each of his Vices for a reason, and each of them has unique value to him. I see him trying to craft an individual loyalty with each of them, tethering them all one-by-one to his ambitions.

This is not to say I can’t see him failing in this lofty task, no matter what he might think of his silver-tongue and the bone-chilling power of his mere presence. Damien is perfectly capable of overestimating the power of his own thrall, or of being too caught up in the affairs of his family to hear the whispers passed between them, or countless other faults that may make him vulnerable to those in his inner circle. I would love to explore what may happen should one or more of the vices turn against him, their united front fracturing. Damien believes that he is the one who raised them high, who granted them their lofty titles, and that he has every right to cast them away should they fail him, and I can all too easily see such a move back-firing spectacularly.

The seven of them create a complex web of loyalties, and as much as Damien prefers to think himself the clever spider at its centre, he is just as capable of being caught up in it as any of the others.

LIVING IN THE AFTERMATH | Perhaps more of an internal development than an interpersonal one, but I’m deeply interested in exploring how the events since Lucifer was vanquished continue to affect Damien. He never found a father in the Morningstar. The word family will forever evoke Judas, Abbadon, and Azazel before the woman who birthed him and the man who sired him, but the Devil’s blood still runs in his veins. So much of what he is, as acerbic a thought as it may be, is owed to the circumstances of his birth.

Seizing hell and sending Lucifer careening upward, outcast from the realm he once ruled, was the first step to ridding the Antichrist of his father’s shadow, but it would prove to be far from the last. Three hundred years longer, Damien had to wait with a pernicious, buzzing anxiety, for the last of the Morningstar’s light to finally fade from his eyes, and that too would not bring the end of his influence. Though he did not stand in the way of the search for the bodies of God and his Morningstar, speaking of the affair left his tongue dry and bitter in his mouth. Their time had come and gone. All that was left of them was dust. And besides, if mortal and demonkind so desperately sought what was left of the Morningstar, all they had to do was turn their eyes to his progeny. Lucifer’s blood thrums through his veins, yet they seek his crumbled remains instead? It defies Damien’s understanding.

The Heretics and their precious Sanctus Terra (a name that to this day he can’t help but feel a petty disdain for) only exacerbated his frustration. Going to war with them was delightful, yes, crushing their ranks between his teeth brought a dark kind of satisfaction he hadn’t felt since he’d seized the Morningstar and ripped him from his throne. Damien could have waged war for centuries, never tiring of the taste of mortal blood, of flexing his power against their generals. But too many others were not so inclined - and it was with disdain (and a fair bit of pressure from those around him) that he agreed to set the war aside to establish the Holy Land. His beloved Azazel being made Moon - though were it up to him, he’d have given her the whole piece of land to her to do with what she pleased - at least served as something of a consolation prize. Even on this so-called neutral ground, the power of his family has made itself known and respected.

Still, his resentment for the place has not entirely faded, and while he’s willing to at least tolerate most of what it has to offer, some of its residents make that ire come bubbling up to the surface. Namely, Estienne, who in all their lofty arrogance and sly demeanour has come to be emblematic of everything Damien hates about the place. Estienne is but a pale imitation, thinking a touch of plague-given divinity makes them his equal, who seems to seek a dynasty with his own sister not unlike the one Damien has with his. It’s petty, Damien’s disdain, yet powerful. I see Estienne managing to push all of Damien’s buttons, and as much as Damien would like to forget about them entirely, they remain a thorn in his side, with more influence over him than he would ever care to admit.

CUT FROM THE CLOTH OF FATE | Damien was born swathed in prophecy. Destiny’s shadow has hung over him and lingered behind him for the entirety of his existence. The Antichrist, born to eat the world. And he’s done it, hasn’t he? He has torn the Morningstar from his throne and bit out his throat, he has brought Hell itself to the surface of the earth. Civilizations have fallen to his wrath, cities crumbled under his touch, the world as it was once known torn to pieces and turned to dust. Yet what is destruction wrought when revival follows it like a shadow?

I see Damien at something of a crossroads. In one sense, his prophecy is fulfilled; he took the world between his teeth and crushed an age to it’s bitter end. Half the world is his in all but name (though Judas’ shadow lurks around every corner, he too crafting himself an invisible throne), but contentedness can not and will not come easily to Damien. Something stirs within him, something yet to be named, perhaps even recognized, but its roots have already taken root in the core of him. Restlessness stirs in his hounds, power festering from underuse, and a quiet, dull ache grows in the set of his jaw. He was made to destroy, not to rule, but he cannot deny that there is something delectable about the word ‘king’.

I see him in quiet, solitary moments turning the prophecy over in his mind. What is one meant to do, once he’s swallowed the world? There are moments he regrets letting it regrow so quickly, giving him so little time to bask in the ruination of his making, and there are moments when he wonders if his prophecy remains unfulfilled, still dark and beckoning. Every moment spent with Nerissa pulls it from him, makes his hands itch to rip off his gloves and feel ruin blossom under his touch once more, this time with no rebirth to follow. There are times still, when he thinks he ought to tear apart the prophecy itself with his teeth, render it as meaningless and obsolete as the ashes of the Old Testament. His father was a king. Perhaps it is time to claim a different kind of birthright.

I can see Damien turning his sights on The Holy Land and Caelum (and maybe - if those lands have somehow fallen to his wrath - Infernum itself) hungry for destruction at whatever cost it may come. Just as easily, I can see him looking to his invisible throne and the crown of shadows growing on his brow, and decide that it is time to make them something more tangible. I’m not sure Damien himself knows exactly what he wants, but I know it would be utterly delightful to see which direction the story and the other characters may push him in, and find out.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes. But if Damien is going down, he is going down in one hell of a blaze of glory.

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation | The dark, beautiful thing about Damien is that if he were asked this question, I’m not sure he could give you a solid answer. Oh of course he wouldn’t say as much, his lips would twist up in something not quite a smile, and from his tongue he’d create something lovely and argent, perhaps ask what the earthquake’s driving motivation is to turn a city to dust, or what drives a pack of wolves to tear the stag limb from limb. It would be long after his shadow had ceased to fall upon you, after your bones had warmed from his chill, that you would realize he answered only with questions. That is, if he answered at all, and did not instead slit your throat for the presumption.

Damien is, above all else, inevitable. The trajectory of his life has forever been defined by what he is more than who. The line between them blurs beyond recognition. Damien is a force of nature, a wild animal, and a fatherless son all in the same breath. He is a creature of ferocious instinct, who knew that he thirsted for the sweet, metallic taste of blood long before he knew why.

All this is to say, Damien’s motivation is a fractured thing. One might call the thing driving his heart to beat and his hands to rend destiny or instinct or hunger, but in a word, I would call it ambition. Damien was born with grand purpose, with a dark, insatiable thirst. He was going to kill the world. Now he’s done just that, in a sense, chewed up the old world and spit it back out, only to watch his pseudo-father carefully tend to the remains. Something new has blossomed from Damien’s destruction and perhaps, were he anyone else, that would be enough.

Which path to carve forward remains unknown, even to Damien himself, but one thing remains certain: this is not where his story ends. He did not overthrow the Morningstar to live an idle eternity, to bask in even the chaotic peace of Infernum. He balances on the line between ‘prince’ and ‘king’ and yet is permitted to openly call himself neither. He looks to the north and sees wide swathes of earth that do not yet know his destructive trust. All the while, something inside him grows, inky shadows spreading where he stands. So many highs he has yet to reach, so many ways to wield his power against the world.

What does Damien want? The answer swirls like a storm building inside him, shapeless and impatient. If he really must name it, I believe he would choose a singular, all-encompassing word: MORE.

Character Traits |

Vicious: Full of vice. Is there a word that more completely sums up all that the Antichrist is? The word may conjure the traditional vices, but it is also a word for the wild, fierce cruelty Damien is capable of embodying so completely. He is vicious in that he is wicked, but also in that if he proclaimed he was raised by wolves one might believe him. Damien is a sharp, dangerous thing, and he bears each vice with pride, but none more than his self-appointed title: wrath.

Volatile: In certain environments, such as his childhood, one could be easily be mistaken in thinking the Antichrist scarce feels anything at all, cold and distant as he might be. The truth is something else entirely. It might not show on his face until the ice inside him has whirled into a blizzard, but without his gloves Damien’s power would act on its own accord. Damien feels deeply, quickly, and to those who know him well enough can seem almost childish in the changes of his mood. Especially now, when the path before him is so unclear, and Damien finds himself all but itching for his next direction.

Aloof: Cold is the first word that many think of when they encounter Damien. He walks into a room like the winter chill blowing in. And how fitting it is, that the distant, aloof child of the Morningstar could make even the fires of hell seem cold. Damien is a singular creature; he prefers to stand apart from most (with few exceptions made, for family and to an extent, the Vices). And how could he not, the only half-demon known to walk the Earth?

Eloquent: Damien came of age under the wing of Judas, the silver-tongued betrayer. He has learned to weave words from the best teacher one could desire. Yet, the Antichrist himself is not a creature of lies by his nature. He may employ them should they be needed, but Damien prefers those who look upon him to know exactly who he is. He barely spoke a word the first eight years of his life, silent as a shadow. Now, every word is chosen carefully, the beauty of his words a sharp contrast between the dread he invokes.

Passionate: How irritating he finds it, that language so often describes passion as a fire. Damien is a creature of ice and shadow. Passion, for Damien, is a blizzard, whiting-out everything in its path, a glacier, slow-moving and unstoppable, or the nocturnal beasts coming out of hiding at the fall of night, inevitable as it is fearsome. When Damien cares, he cares deeply, and with terrifying ferocity.

Dauntless: What does the Antichrist know of fear? Damien has never met an obstacle he did not hesitate to rise to meet, not even the Devil himself. As a child he looked down into the fiery mouth of hell and he found himself a home in its fires. Damien is bold, welcoming a challenge, particularly in battle, and does not do well with idleness.

In-Character Para Sample |

There’s something wonderfully fascinating about watching the effects of his presence before the affected even knows Damien lingers close by. Even creatures of hell can react like prey animals under the unseen gaze of a wolf, a mysterious chill creeping up their spines, hairs standing on end as they twist their necks in search of the source of their unease. The corner of Damien’s mouth ticks upward at the sight. It’s a rare thing in these languid days of peace, that he gets a chance to flex this particular muscle, lingering in the shadows of Infernum’s ever-ostentatious decor in a dark corner of a busy room. It will not last, the effect of Damien’s presence can only go unnoticed for so long. Sooner or later, the cold will seep deeply enough into someone’s skin to dismiss as a figment of imagination, and he will be given away. He’s only managed to escape notice so far because slipped in from a side-door, treading quickly and silently, and took a vantage point half-covered by a heavy velvet curtain, and, far more significantly, because the room’s attention is fixed on none other than Judas himself.

It’s a rare gift that Damien’s pseudo-father possesses, that silver-tongued charm that makes one believe that no matter what you may have heard about ‘The Great Betrayer,’ this time, you can trust him. Damien understands the mechanics of it, taught from Judas himself, exactly how to weave your phrases, the rise and fall that leaves a room full of creatures as wild as demons hanging on every word. Still, he has so few moments where he gets to watch Judas in his element while unobserved himself, watching with a hint of fondness as he sways opinions word by word. Typically, he would delegate one of the Vices, or perhaps someone below them, depending on the importance of matters, to keep an eye on his parental figure in his stead. Like Judas before him, Damien calls attention to himself by simply walking into a room. The dynasty that Judas, Abbadon, Azazel, and himself have carved out for themselves may not call themselves royalty, but the subjects of Infernum address them as if they wore crowns and carried sceptres all the same. Their power - much like what Judas displays now - is nameless, but it is palpable.

As much as he enjoys the light thrill of watching from the shadows as Judas works his political machinations, he did not come here just to watch. No, Damien has matters to discuss with his father of sorts, but the opportunity to glimpse him working his schemes unnoticed is not something he was about to turn down, even if the moment might be brief. Unfortunately, there’s nothing especially interesting about the conversation, mere political minutiae Damien rarely has the patience for. Judas reaches a pause and Damien watches a nearby demon shift uncomfortably on her feet, and Damien’s time to linger has come to an end.

“Judas,” he says, stepping out of his shadow-y corner. He cannot pretend it doesn’t bring him some satisfaction, the way the energy of the room so instantly changes. Eyes flit between Judas and himself, unsure where this goes next. There are precious few, who could get away with such an interruption, Damien one of them. He could wait, but why would he? He, too, wears an invisible crown. He, too, demands the attention of all that look upon. Sometimes, he thinks Judas ought to remember that fact. “My apologies for the interruption,” he says coolly. His expression betrays nothing, Judas likely the only person in the room who realizes that Damien has nothing especially urgent to say. Still, the room has come to a standstill, everyone else willing to wait on their two kings. Damien stands still as a sculpture, and watches with silent satisfaction the entire room stills with him, letting the long moment pass.

“A moment of your time?”

Extras |

Headcanons |

Though he adores the infernal terror of Azazel’s hellhounds, Damien has his own hunting dogs - a pack of wild wolves that came to him almost unbidden. He dotes on them, a reminder of the first wild creatures whose eyes he ever saw himself reflected in, but they are from domesticated. Though they may seem docile under Damien’s touch - lounging at the foot of his imaginary throne - but they are wild, vicious things, far quicker to show their anger than their master. The first sign of Damien’s displeasure is often not a hint in his body language, or even a look in his eye, but the low growl of the wolves at his side.

Serpents and birds of prey flock to Damien as hell, seeming to crawl out of the woodwork when he’s around. He’s open to their presence, but doesn’t dote on him the way he does his wolves. Still, it isn’t unheard of to see Damien with a hawk perched on his shoulder, or with some venomous snake casually curling itself around his ankle.

Usually, Damien doesn’t mind his lack of wings. It sets him apart from his demonic kin, a reminder to everyone around him that even in the realm of Infernum, he is something else, otherworldly no matter where he might make his abode. That only changes when - for whatever reason - he is in need of fast transport, and must rely on some other demon’s wings. He will not, under any circumstance, admit this out loud, and does what he must with all the animalistic grace that eternally characterizes his movement, but it is - to be frank - rather embarrassing.

Sometimes, as a threat, Damien will tug on the fingers of his gloves.

#accepted #accepted: damien

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akiameokami · 3 years

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Popular Potter

Look at him, looking so smug as that curly-haired reject has her legs strewn across his lap. Potter. It just isn’t right for someone of his status to be with someone like her. He is a pureblood, she is muggle-born, and to make matters worse she has an eyebrow ring! Her poise certainly isn’t a redeeming quality either. I cannot see a single element that makes her good enough for him, expect perhaps that she is smart enough to put Raven Claw’s brightest to shame. If it wasn’t for her lack of professionalism and personal upkeep I am sure she would be in Raven Claw and not Gryffindor. She has changed him so much since they started dating. Potter used to be such a prince, but even since they got together he has been hanging out with anyone, even the problematic Weasleys. I can’t believe his parents let him do that, do they not care about how it will effect their status? Father always reminds me to be cautious of my social relations because they will effect him greatly. He would simply die if he saw me with someone adorned in chains such as Hermione chooses. The brazed crème a top the shit soufflé is that Harry Potter got a tongue ring! His parent’s certainly know nothing of this, but for the first time ever, I think I may not make Father privy to this. Potter and I have been associates every since primary school, and the tongue ring is a secret to all but his inner most circle. Except somehow Ronald and Hermione have become the bulk of that circle since we entered Hogwarts. To think that first semester we picked out matching Slytherin class rings together, and he somehow became a Gryffindor like them. Maybe classes do divide people too definitively? Or maybe he is changing as a person.. He always did have an affinity for the muggle world and other oddities, I just never thought he’d choose them over me.

“Hi Har- Er, Potter, and company”, I say awkwardly as I approach their group. They all go quiet as they look at me, the only green clad robe amongst a sea of red. I feel as if this griffons pride may swallow me whole. They seem to be waiting for Harry to respond before they pounce, he really has gone from a Prince to a King.

“Draco!” Harry exclaims as he moves Hermione's legs off and stands to greet me. I go for a slight wave but he pulls me into a hug. I can feel the daggers from his entourage. “I haven’t seen you around school in a while, what has Snape been forcing you into this time?” He asked, staring only at me. I’d appreciate the opportunity to get lost in his viper green eyes, but I can’t hold his stair. He knows my distaste for Snape, but he doesn’t know why. It’s a story for another time, but he’d already know it if he’d never stopped talking to me.

“Oh, no, Snape is no longer tutoring me. Instead of academic pursuits, I’ve decided to try out for the quidditch team. Seems they have taken a fancy to my flying skills!” it hurts to not tell him to truth, to see him go from someone who I could tell anything to, to having to smile through the biggest heart break I’ve ever had. When I mention quidditch he gets very excited, and his posse eases up a bit. It is not uncommon for groups of different classes to enthuse over quidditch together, it is one of the few social glues we have. “What a coincidence! I will be joining the quidditch team as a legacy next season!” he says very boisterously, “I know they are expecting a lot because of my father, but I think they will be pleasantly surprised. I did always win when we would race, right?” He says with a slap to my shoulder. To others this would look like a casual challenge, but for me that slight touch meant so much more. It brought back summers spent struggling to learn how to fly out behind the greenhouse. The time he carried me back to Mother after I was able to be the first to get off the ground and flew too high.

“You’re right, you used to be much better than me. Who knows if it’s changed, maybe you could have a practice race with me and give me some pointers if I lose?”. This audacious bastard would never turn down a challenge, and despite knowing I will likely lose, it means we’d finally have a chance to spend some time together so I’m willing to “take the L” as his muggle friends would say.

“Harry, that’d be awesome to watch!”, “Yea Harry darling, you should host a little Gryffindor versus Slytherin flying practice before the season starts!’ Ron and Hermione cheer him on from the background. The other Gryffindor's start to chime in on how they would love to see a friendly match and see how skilled the new flyers are. “Well Draco, what do you say? I’m game to leave all you snakes in the dust, but only if you think Slytherin has enough flyers to make it worth the effort”, he chuckles as he says it, but he squeezes my shoulder with a bit of aggression behind it. He didn’t want it to be a spectacle, but I’m not going to clean up his messes if he wont be my friend anymore.

“Sure Harry, I think I can pull together some wizards and witches that will make it worth your precious time.” I flatly announce as I start to walk away. I make myself keep stepping forward, and I can hear their snickers behind me. I walk straight away from him, no not quite, I walk straight to Snape's office. I wonder if he knows the pain he puts me through? Being compared to the Potter-Prince growing up, Father pushing me to be better than him, Harry having the audacity to be such an amazing man, friend, and first. Yet he also has the power to be the person to put me through more pain by not being in my life, driving me to focus on my studies, to get Severus to be my tutor, to use Severus as a coping method to get over him. Do you know what you’ve done to me Harry?

~~~Imagine a world where Harry didn’t grow up with the Dursley’s, where Voldermort wasn’t a thing, where Lily and James didn’t die. Would Draco and Harry have been friends? Would they have been more? Harry and Draco are 17, nearing graduation and independence, but that also means they are climaxing from their teenage angst and heartbreak. Will they get closure?

I approach Severus’s office, emotions flooding me. After Harry and I got accepted to Hogwarts and he started drifting away, I found myself lost. At first, I believed his excuses for why he bailed on our plans, and then I blamed myself thinking I made him mad, and then I realized he just didn’t like me anymore. The self blaming was the hardest to get over, but Severus helped with that. I chose to focus on my studies, I had to find something productive to do so that Father would be proud of me again. He got very angry when I messed up the connection with the Potters. I decided instead to try and be very academically accomplished, so I needed a good tutor. Father and Mother were both very familiar with Severus Snape and knew him as an intelligent man and an excellent wizard despite being only 6 years older than me. They arranged for him to be my tutor, and he lived much closer to the school than we did, which meant I would study at his house and in the summers I stay with him. Since he is also a teacher at Hogwarts we don’t ever interact politely as school, because frankly our relationship is unconventional. to the public. I don’t love him, he doesn’t love me, but we both have been burned by the Potters more than once and despite all our pain, we still love them. Don’t get me wrong, Rus is very good to me, and we have had some very sentimental memories, but I can never mean as much to him as Lily I don’t think. That and I am not willingly to fall in love.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK* - “Come in.” I walk in and instantly Rus’s face goes from stone cold to slightly softer. “Draco, I assume you came to speak about your last test scores?” He arches an eyebrow and nods at the door indicating I should close it.

“Oh come on Rus, I know we have an arrangement to not interact extra here but I..” I close the door and try not to meet his eyes. I know what I am feeling, and its stupid! I can’t explain it though. He closes the door while reaching over me. With his other arm he pulls into a hug.

“Use your words Draco.” He kisses the top of my head while whispering softly. I bury my face in his shirt. How do I tell him that I am hurting because the person who means the most to me, acknowledged me, and it left me feeling hollow? “Is it about Mr. Potter? I saw you speaking in the courtyard. That was dangerous.” I let out a shaky sigh. This is why we are together, because we share the same pain.

“Yea..” I mutter, “We are going to have a little race between Slytherin House and Gryffindor to see who the faster upcoming flyers will be.” Even saying it sounds absolutely ridiculous! It’s a bloody pissing contest! Yet nothing has been able to break me out of this numbness until now. Rus braces the small of my back as we lean against his office door. I look up to see him with a small smile, “I understand. I think this will be for the best. Whether it is closer you get, or simply a win. I be here if it goes wrong”. He is so consistent. Just as expected, after saying something so sweet that I could almost develop feelings, he leans down and begins a gentle kiss. He pulls my waist into him, spreading my legs with his knee. I kiss him back while running my fingers through his hair. I reach down for his belt, trying to undo it. He stops my hand and pulls back, “Now Mr. Malfoy, we are on school grounds.” He says with his stern, teacher voice. He the leans in and whispers, “You can show my what that Malfoy mouth is good for later”. I feel my dick jump a little bit, giving me a semi. This is how I cope. Feelings cannot negate the power of something physical, and Severus Snape needs to forget about the Potters just as much as I do. We were a match made in Hell.

“Draco....” I hear Harry’s voice calling my name, but it sounds distorted, almost as if I’m underwater. “Draco!” it comes through clearly this time, but it isn’t Harry, It’s Blaise yelling at me to rouse me from my sleep. I had returned to the dorms embarrassingly late, but I had the forethought to lay out my quidditch gear ahead of time so I wouldn’t be scrambling in the morning. “Draco, wake the fuck up! We’re gonna be late to the race!” Blaise is still yelling but I can hear him heading for the door. Late? What did he mean late? I roll over and check the time, he was right, I had about five minutes to go from bed to the quidditch field. Fuck.

“I almost thought you chickened out Draco!” Harry taunts as I approach the quidditch field, running as fast as I can with all my gear on. I was able to gather three other Slytherins that wanted to race, and who were marginally decent. Sadly Harry seemed to have a whole team that wanted to test us. I glance at Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle and they do not seem to be exuding confidence. I got them into this so the least I can do is be the one who people blame. “What? Run away from you Potter? I could never”, I say a little too seriously while making eye contact. I catch the slightest frown from Harry, but it fades as quickly as it appeared. “Well then, lets get this over with. It sounded fun, but looking at your little group, it just feels like bullying.” He rejoins his group at the start line. The course was to make one large loop around campus while going through specified markers, such as looping through the womping willow and its thrashing limbs, and past Hagrids hut. It is just the school campus, but that doesn’t make it not dangerous. That is why I wore my protective gear, but as I glance around I see that most everyone else was casually dressed with the exception of Longbottom. He looked as if he was wrapped in bubble wrap. I don’t want to be associated with the likes of him so I discard my protective layer. I return my attention to the other end of the field where Hermione stands with the flare, and off it goes. I must’ve been disassociating during the count down. I feel the wind of the others taking off before I see the bristles of their brooms when they speed past me. Shit. I take off as fast as I can, but I am not too concerned about the starting line. Anyone can get up, its staying there that’s the problem.

The first obstacle is the peaks of the school, where we stand the danger of Mr. Fletcher seeing us and everyone getting in trouble. This obstacle is more about stealth than speed, you could speed right through the peaks, but you would certain alarm everyone inside the castle. The trick to making it without being seen is to pay attention and roof hop, taking a break to wait out anyone who may see you. I can see ahead of me where two Gryffindor flyers drop altitude instantly, nearly getting caught. I swerve away from that tower and loop around the other way, hopping off the roof after checking the next peak. When I emerge from the other side of the peaks I see Harry far ahead, Ronald right behind him, and Blaise on their tail. either no one else made it through, or they are behind me, because no one would be ahead of Harry. We approach Hagrids hut and drop down low for the loop, I see Blaise take the turn too tightly and have to drop to the ground to prevent himself from going tip over tail. Ronald falls behind me as he flew too close to the hippogriff and got the tail of his broom snipped out. The race is between Harry and I as we approach the womping willow. It is especially crabby today it seems, or perhaps that was just because I was actually flying closer too it and not away from it the way I would have preferred. As we near the willow I am close enough that I could grab the bristles on Harry’s broom if I wanted to. I follow his maneuvers dodging the willows grasps. There is no denying that when it comes to agility Harry has an edge on me. There is no doubt that James took the time to train him personally. Despite all his preparation I see Harry narrowly avoid getting swept by a branch, which meant I had no time to avoid the branch at all. The willow makes contact with my broom and sends me plummeting to the ground. I’d rather jump and break something, that be strangled by a tree. The impact knocks the breath out of me, and the pain floods my body. My vision goes black and once again I feel like I am in bed, floating into nothingness.

“Draco?!?!” I hear Harry’s voice calling out to me, but I don’t respond. Blaise wont fool me again. He just wants me to wake up from my peaceful nothingness. Then the pain hits me and I remember what happened. I open my eyes to see a sweaty and shirtless Harry tying my arm in a makeshift sling. “Draco.. please say something..” He mutters as he struggles with the knot.

“Ouch you bloody bastard, that fucking hurts!” I squeak as he tightens it too much. Despite my pain I see a look of relief cloud his face. “Other than your arm, what hurts? I can’t tell if anything else is broken. I already have Ron and Blaise going to get a teacher. I am so sorry Draco, it wasn’t suppose to happen like this!” Harry is running his sentences together as he is frantically searching me over for any other damages. Everything hurts, but what I feel the most is the throbbing in my chest. Did I really have to almost die for him to say my name in such a caring way? I don’t want to be here, it hurts to see him like this knowing it is just me that is feeling this way. “Professor Snape!” Harry yells as Severus approaches with Ron and Blaise right behind him. I see Rus reach for his wand and the next thing I know Harry is swept away from me by an unseen force, flown at least three yards away. “Harry Potter! What have you done now?!” Severus yells, abnormally angry. He turns his attention toward me, worry lines streaking his face. He looks me over and his face softens. A wave of his wand and I feel a million times better. He leans down next to me and whispers, “You’ll be okay Draco, I’ll take care of this”. He turns his attention to Harry, “While I transport this young man who could very well be crippled, I’d recommend you contact your parents before I get the chance. Let them know I expect to be seeing them soon.” Severus knows better than to touch me, so he makes me float using Hermione's favorite spell. He must have cast a different spell as well, because the last thing I see is Harry’s terrified face as Severus brings me back toward the castle.

I wake up to a sudden jolt of pain coming from, well, everywhere. The most prominent pain is coming from my right arm. I sit up to exam the damage, but to my surprise I see none other than Hermione Granger sitting next to my bed in the infirmary, reading of course. Without a word she raises her hand and indicated the number 1, probably to suggest “one minute”. I wait for her to finish her page.

“I know about you and Harry.” She announces bluntly as she closes her book carefully. She is smart, but she can’t possibly be that smart. “Well, yes, I assume you would know about how he got me clobbered by a tree. You were there.” I try and dismiss her suspicious words. She does not buy a word of it. “No, you twit, I know about you two’s past, and I am willing to bet that your annoying behavior is because you still have feelings for him.” She states it so matter o’ factly that I am left speechless. She rolls her eyes and gets up to leave, “Well, I sure hope that is the case. Him and I broke up you see. After I found out the only reason he wanted to be with me is because I am smart enough to brew a Polyjuice potion of you so he can fuck it, I decided maybe I should be with someone who was actually attracted to me.” She walks away without giving me a chance to argue, or well, say anything at all really. He does what? She runs into someone at the door and I hear them exchange words, and to my surprise the next person to walk in is Harry Fucking Potter. He stands awkwardly at the end of my bed for what feels like an eternity before asking, “how are you feeling?”. Despite his concern, he wont make eye contact with me. He doesn’t even seem like he wants to be here. I sink back into the bed and roll away from him. “You can go, I am fine. I bet your friends are lost without you.” I bite my tongue at the end, knowing that isn’t how I feel. I feel the bed shift as he sits down on the edge.

“Draco.. I don’t want to go. I feel terrible about what happened, and I Hermione just told me that you know about.. me, or us, or however you want to say it, and what I am trying to say is, “ He takes a deep breath, “Draco I am so sorry. I know your father doesn’t want me around you, but it hurts to see you like this, and it hurts to not be with you.”. His voice got weak as he finished his sentence. His hand grabbed my leg and squeezed it. It’d been forever since I had felt his warmth.

I can’t.

I can’t. I can’t. I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’tIcantIcantICANTICANTICANTICANT!

Why? Why does he have to do this? Why does he have to hurt me like this? What does this all mean? Does he think that because he said sorry I can just roll over and pretend the last two years never happened?! HE LEFT ME! He hurt me! He got me hurt! When I lost him, I lost the love for myself as well. How can he say those things to someone who is just a shell?

I start breathing desperately, my heart racing and my head flooding with these thoughts. I can’t control it, I can’t stop it, and I can’t move. I want to reach out to him, to grab his hand, to push him away, I don’t know!

“Mr. Potter, now would be a good time for you to leave.” Severus’s calming voice announces over the hallway in the infirmary. I hear his footsteps swiften towards us. “Proffessor Snape I was only-” Harry starts, but gets interrupted by a stern and almost hissing whisper, “No, Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy’s parents are heading this way, I strongly recommend you make it as if you were never here. Do you understand?”. That very much so sounded like a threat. “Of course, I’m sorry... Please take care of him!”. Harry runs down the hallway and I hear the door slam before Severus addresses me. He kneels beside the bed to be face to face with me. “Draco, I’m so sorry. Deep breaths”. He says gently as he wipes away tears that I didn’t know I had. “Don’t worry about your parents. I will tell them now is a bad time. We will all reconvene at my house this evening once you recover from the healing spell. You can ask them about what Mr. Potter said if you must, I will protect you. Always.” He gently kisses my forehead and leaves silently, leaving me to suffer, as always.

It's painfully awkward sitting at dinner with my parents and Severus. He was able to fix my arm, but it left me what could only be described as the largest hangover one has ever suffered. To top it off, since I was okay physically, my father was going to make sure I wasn't okay emotionally or mentally. He'd done nothing but berate me for causing a scene. I zone out of his rants and stare down at where Severus is squeezing my knee. He is trying to be supportive, but all I can notice is a strange tattoo on his arm that wasn't there before.

"Severus, what is this?" I ask as I drag my fingers over the snake that's wrapped around a skull. It graces his forearm so delicately, it really adds to his aesthetic. My father looks appalled at my blatant change of topic, and Severus looks panicked. He tries to cover it with his sleeve, but father stops him. "Severus Snape, is that the reaction to my spell?" Father stairs him down.

"Yes, my lord. I've no excuses for my behaviour. I will only say that never once have I sought to harm Draco. I've had his best interests in mind, always." Severus hangs his head as he finishes his sentence, knowing what he has just admitted.

"Draco, that mark - or something definitive, will appear on anyone you've had relations with." Father waves his hand towards Severus's arm as he struggles to remain calm. Mother chokes down a sob. "I had my suspicions about the Potter child, but I suppose this confirms that you are exactly the deviant whore I assumed you to be." I- wait, Harry? He knew about us? If he did something like this, something permanent to someone who worshipped him, then what did he do to Harry?

"Father! Tell me, is Harry's scar because of this?!". I grab Severus's hand and squeeze it, needing all the support from him that I can get in this challenging moment. Bever had I spoken againt father, but this was going too far!

"Of course. Are you really that daft to think he spontaneously manifested such an atrocious mark? Honestly Draco, to think you've tainted a wizard of such nobilty, and to include Severus on your path of destruction. I am ashamed to call you my son." Lucious stands to leave, grabbing Narcissa by the arm and dragging her with him. I never thought it would come to this, I knew father could be nasty, but I never believed he would be this way towards me. Everything I did was to make him look to, to do the Malfoy name proud. Yet he can't even let me love who I want to love? I want to chase after him but Severus weighs me down in my chair. "Don't Draco, let him cool off before you try anything. It wont end well if you pursue him now.".

The next day at school I can't help but stair at Harry's scar in every shared class. Severus explained how the curse worked, he explained that the mark would burn and feel as if it were festering when the host was around me. He explained that the reason Harry grew distant was because of my father and James Potter deciding to seperate us by any means necessary. Severus only learned about this after he began tutoring me and learned of my heart break. I still couldn't bring myself to speak to him. I don't know whether I feel betrayed, or heart broken. I don't know where I will go when the weekend comes, because I can't go home, or to Severus's, and I can't stay here. The library seems like the only logical option to kill a little bit of time at before finding a place to spend the night.

"Draco?" Before I even look, I know it is Harry who has joined me in the endless rows of books. "Draco.. I am so sorry. I hope you're okay. I hope Luscious didn't.. do anything, to you. Like he used to-" "STOP" I can't take this anymore! "Did you know? About the curse, about our fathers, and what he would do? This whole time were you just hiding from my reality?!" He is standing right here in front of me but as I yell at him I only stare at the scar on his forehead, knowing it must be throbbing.

"I knew.. after it appeared, they explained it to me. They said it was what you wanted, and that this would help us distance ourselves." He steps closer to me, reaching out for me. "But I knew it couldn't have been true. I figured it out after you started getting so familiar with Professor Snape. I tried asking my father about it and he told me the truth, but I thought you'd moved on so I didn't want you to have to choose.", he grabs my hand and holds it close to his chest. "But I'm done waiting. I don't think you've moved on, I just think you're too afraid to be yourself. So stop me if this isn't what you want." The last words are practically a whisper as his lips close in on mine. It'd been so long since I'd felt his touch, let alone his kiss. He starts out soft and sweet, lingering to feel the softness of my lips. When I don't fight his kiss, he gets more aggressive, his tongue parting my lips and finding mine. He grabs the back of my head and laces his fingers through my hair, cushioning the impact of him pushing my into the bookshelf. "Draco~" he mutters my name as he leans into me. I can feel his hard on pressing against me. "Fuck Draco", he lips press against my neck as he kisses me intensely, trying to leave a mark. "I've never stopped wanting you", he bites me gently, "I never let you get taken from me again".

#Harry Potter #drarry #Draco Malfoy #draco x harry #severus snape #severus x draco #lgbtq #hay #gay #romance #who does it end with?#It was meant to be Drarry #but I dont know anymore #Severus may be 6 years older #But he is a hell of a lot nicer #always

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daydreamnu · 4 years

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Tricky Treats: Day 08

Welcome to the eighth day of Tricky Treats, a compilation of daily Halloween short stories by daydreamnu for October 2020!

✧ characters: changkyun x vampire!reader ✧ word count: 383 ✧ genre: drabble, halloween, vampire!au ✧ warnings: none ✧ request: vampire!reader x changkyun + meet ✧ Click the “source” of this post for the master list!

In the long stretch of your existence, you have only ever been met with fear. Screams gurgling from terrified mouths; bodies trembling in a losing fight to stay alive; eyes swelling with uncontained panic. If you were to be honest with yourself, it makes your “life” lonely. But, you have long since embraced the singularity of yourself, albeit begrudgingly, and overlay that aching sore spot with a thick layer of detachment. You feel nothing—not the excruciating misery of your fate; not the guilt of snuffing out the light of another. Nothing.

Until this very moment. Bewilderment? Curiosity? Annoyance? Too many forgotten things—emotions—were wiggling around in the still chambers of your heart.

The man you have pinned to the brick wall of an alley stares back at you calmly. With your fangs bared and poised to drink him dry, his heartbeat remains steady under your hand.

“You’re not scared?” You pull back slightly from him, truly puzzled at his lack of screams.

“Should I be?” comes his reply, his voice deep and even.

“Most people are begging for their lives to be spared at this point.”

“I can beg, if you like.” There is a flicker of mischief in his eyes. He’s playing with you?

You scoff in disbelief; never have you come across a person like this. Of course, there have been the ones who wanted their death—welcomed it, even—but, teasing you? If you were wearing pearls they would be clutched at his audacity. (Nevermind the fact that you would not be opposed to hearing him beg for you.)

“Should we go grab a drink? I like to get to know a person first before getting on my knees for them.” He says with such a straight face you cannot help but splutter in surprise. “To beg,” he clarifies. There is a smug smirk sitting freely on his mouth.

You open your mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. You cannot think of a single coherent thing to say in rebuttal. Has your dull immortality warped your brain that much? Frustration—that you can name easily.

His infuriating smirk only grows. He pushes off of the wall, making you step back involuntarily, and begins to walk towards the opening on the alley.

“Come on, I know a good place.”

What the hell just happened?

#mxwriters #monbebe net #changkyun #monsta x #i.m #changkyun drabble #monsta x drabble #daydreamnu writes #daydreamnu drabbles #*tricky treats #vamp!reader and i are gonna team up to fight kyun one day

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goldenpinof · 5 years

Text

so basically here’s a script of “Basically I’m gay” by Daniel Howell, if someone needs it

link to a google doc

Hello Internet.

«Sex! Secrecy! And a whole lot of internal screaming. Starring Daniel Howell. One of the greatest mysteries of our generation. What is Dan’s sexuality?»

Spoiler alert. I’m not straight. Sex, the foundation of life and the only thing we’re really supposed to do. Everyone’s obsessed with it. You bunch of degenerates. In the list of things that identify a person, one of the most important for other people to know is their sexuality. For, if sex is the primal force propelling all of these humans forward by their hips, they have to know. Are we gonna fuck? Or like could we? Or are you, ‘cause I’m just wondering. Now, we live in a heteronormative world, which is a long scary word that makes people feel attacked for some reason. Shh it’s okay.

What it means is people are presumed to be straight. If you’re not, then at some point, you have to “come out”, which is a whole thing. Or people might just try and guess based on something you do or the way you act, because yay stereotypes. So this is something you have to be clear on, because if you’re not, how are all these other people that aren’t you going to cope? But I’m pretty sure no one that knows me thinks I’m straight. So I don’t really need to come out as much as just clarify what the hell is going on. As here I am at age 27 and my sexual preference is seemingly still a vague, debatable, confusing, impenetrable mystery. But why? And what is it? Well, those are some big questions. Are you sure you wanna know my answers?

[YES]

Okay, well, if you say so 'cause this is a complicated and sensitive issue and when it comes to me, boy, there is a lot to unpack here and it is a total clusterfuck. So strap yourselves in and let me tell you a queer little story about a boy named Dan.

Chapter 1 – The Word

♪ When I was a young boy ♪

♪ My father ♪

Didn’t have much time for me because my conception was clearly an accident and he was a narcissistic proud man suddenly inconvenienced in the prime of his life and this emotional neglect gave me lasting problems.

Sorry that’s not all relevant right now.

I was an only child for seven years and with working parents. This meant I had to make my own fun so I was imaginative and loud which is something that my teachers used to say quite a lot followed by, “However.” Here I am age five. Look at me. Cute, poised, sassy, turning out this photo shoot like sorry, Grandma, I stunted on this set. Are you seeing this? In almost every way, I literally peaked age five. I loved being the center of attention. People said I had an infectious happiness, that my beaming smile brought them hope and joy. People that know me are laughing right now. But a boy, in the '90s being happy and generally polite acting? Sounds kinda GAY if you ask me. Literally, masculinity was so fragile, people were so proud and scared and society so aggressive that a boy smiling!?.. appearing to be empathetic or in any way emoting was seen as a threat. How dare they laugh and feel comfortable? They must be soft and weak and girly and GAY. So basically thanks, Grandma, for raising me to be a nice child, you dick. Just kidding. That’s a joke and I told you not to watch this video because it would be rude so if you send me a disappointed text telling me you’re offended, I don’t know what to tell you. Although, now I think about it, you did make me go to church for 10 years, which in hindsight probably also didn’t help ♪ Hallelujah ♪ the issue here so. But then it was time for little Dan to go to school and this is when it

♪ All went wrong ♪

'Cause it turns out most children, evil pieces of shit. Doesn’t matter if you try to raise a happy innocent child, throw that kid into school, aka, a literal Mad Max Battle Royale with the feral offspring of your local community. Yeah, that crap’ll be undone in about two weeks. I was six years old running around the playground pretending to be Sonic the Hedgehog or something when two brothers come up to me aged seven and eight with an unexplained aggressive look in their eye. And the younger one pushes me to the ground, kicks me in the stomach, and just says, “GAY.”

This was the first time I ever heard that word. Well, I don’t know what the heck gay means but apparently it means people kick you on the floor so that ain’t good. I didn’t know this child or give them any cause to have an opinion on me. And, actually, I never directly interacted with them again. What epic clustershit of failed parenting and general culture brought this tiny child to get angry and attack someone, then call them gay for looking like they were having fun outside. Are you okay, 1990s? And so my relationship with sexuality began.

I wasn’t looking to define myself as a child indiscriminately playing doctors and nurses with various friends until once somebody’s mum walked into a room to find three fully naked children sat on a bed sticking sellotape to each other’s butts. Yep, which I don’t recommend. Also, Jesus Christ, the poor woman that saw that. Then you get to the magic age around 10 or 11 where everybody suddenly wants to pretend they’re totally a “cool teenager” who’s doing all the drugs and the sex and the fights, totally. Boy, gay was a really popular word back then.

[[Boy] Uh, homework is gay. [Girl] Uh, my mum’s so gay. [Boy] Uh, you touched a girl, gay.]

This one little shit who I won’t name was one of the school bullies and he loved the word gay. He had it in for me and I have no idea why. You know me, Mr. Winnie the Pooh Meets Slender Man. Well, when I was 10 just Winnie the Pooh. I didn’t do nothin’ to no one ever and yet this guy used my pacifism as a punching bag where any group situation was an excuse to single me out call me gay for some reason and then make everyone else exclude me because they were scared of him. I had a girlfriend. We dated for six whole weeks. We kissed in a game of spin the bottle once by literally sucking on each other’s faces. Then she ended dumping me over speakerphone at a birthday party that everyone in my class but me was invited to but, hey. I don’t know what I was doing wrong, but at this age, I understood one thing. Being gay, whatever that meant, was clearly the worst thing you could be. On a Darwinian level, I was being told, okay bitch, “Survival Code”. Don’t be this apparently. Evolution. Plot twist, this bully I think he was a bit gay because once he asked me to have a sleepover at his house and I thought was me finally getting socially accepted only for him in the middle of the night to come up and ask me, “So who’s going to be the boy and the girl?” I was an innocent smol bean who didn’t really understand what he meant because, to be honest, I didn’t actually understand get how babies were made yet. But needless to say I think he was disappointed. Wow, closeted child turns into homophobic bully. Thanks again society. But this whole primary school journey was really just an amuse-bouche for the full six-course tasting menu of suffering that would be secondary school.

I went to an all-boys school. It was a literal hellscape. I thought it was hard making it through a school of 200 kids with two or three bullies. Try over a thousand where a clean 800 are fully psychopathic gorillas fueled by testosterone, Red Bull, and Eminem albums. Making sure that the word f- no longer means an innocent bundle of sticks or a cigarette anymore in the British lexicon. Nope, now it was a cool homophobic slur along with gay, gaylord, gayboy, puff, pufter, ponce, batty, batty boy, bum-boy, bender. Shit, this is so long. People have a lot of words for something they don’t wanna think about. Look at me in this stupid blazer. Oh, “you’ll grow into it at some point in the next four years”. Thanks, Mum. Day one, kid in form class, some stupid hedgehog-looking motherfucker side eyes me and says, “What you lookin at, puff?” First interaction at a new school. Great! My entire existence on a daily basis then becomes navigating this school like I’m in the bloody “Maze Runner” trying to avoid aggressive pricks with chode ties. And you know being verbally abused for being a nerd or a Greebo at least felt relevant to me at the time. Greebo, definitely one of my faves there and I’m sure that Korn and Slipknot would have been proud to have 12-year-old me as a fan. I kinda knew who I was in the hierarchy at that point. I was essentially a theater kid who spent all of his free time playing Runescape on the AOL browser on his mum’s PC instead of football. I accepted it. But at least I wasn’t actually this “gay thing” people kept throwing around because by now I understood a gay is a boy who fancies other boys. And to be honest I don’t really feel like I’ve ever fancied anyone before.

Then puberty happened.

Oh yeah, this is fun, tingly feelings, I smell bad. It was quite fun dribbling on this girl’s face playing Truth or Dare, maybe later we’ll go behind that bike sheds and, there I was sat in English class, my friend next to me. I watched as he delicately removes a pencil from its case. We briefly make eye contact as he flutters his long black eyelashes with a blink before staring forward. His eyes are so bright and beautiful yet they seem so sad and deep with emotion. I wish I could just understand. Oh fuck, I think I’m a bit gay. You’re telling me this whole time I actually have been the bad thing that people keep calling me? Shit!

Chapter 2 – Feelings

Oh do you hear it that faint hum, something coming from a deep, dark place too powerful to control? It’s the self-hatred. She is here and she’s only getting started. Short version, I fall hopelessly in love with a friend of mine who doesn’t feel the same way which crushes me into a million tiny pieces and years later actually it turns out he was gay the whole time. He just really specifically didn’t like me. [Double kill.] Here I am, 13, crying to evanescence alone in my bedroom feeling like there’s no point in really being alive as I’m clearly a faulty outcast person that has no place in the world. I stopped going to church with my grandma because I felt like I wasn’t really supposed to be there. Also, by this age, the whole Christianity thing didn’t really make much sense to me. And the adult services were dry AF compared to coloring in a picture of Jesus’s face at Sunday school. So other than the free tea and biscuits they gave away after the sermon, religion didn’t really have much to offer me. Damn, there was some good biscuits though. I miss that. But wait! All is not lost yet. Do you see that? A triumphant, rallying cry of guitars, stripey hoodies, and black hair dye. Emo had arrived! I swear to God, emo is one of the best things that happened to pop culture in the last 20 years. As well as inventing eyeliner and skinny jeans, a new word hit the theater, nerd, goth, band, kid corner that would change my world forever.

Bisexual. You can be normal and gay at the same time and some people think it’s cool? Well, slap a long fingerless glove on my arm and sign me up to Myspace 'cause Mum, I’m bi. It was a good term 'cause it was a catchall for anyone who felt sexually confused or curious that didn’t want to commit to something stronger which is very me. Big commitment issues. Thanks, fam. To be clear, regardless of whatever the 2006 teenagers thoughts and feelings were, being bi is valid and should not be excused away or erased by anyone. Thank you.

From this moment, I was a loud and proud raving bi to my close friends and the strangers on the internet who saw my clearly-labeled sexual preference on my Myspace page. And the emo friends I made at this time were awesome. We just used to hang and make out with each other and listen to music and drink bottles of Smirnoff Ice until we were sick on each other with no judgment. The judgment came several years later looking back at the photos that you can’t delete. So I didn’t need to tell my family or people at school anything. But the thing is with a Myspace page, anyone with an internet connection can read it. And so the rumors started spreading through my neighborhood that Dan Howell was in fact a bisexual. I had a friend in French class who one day, totally unprompted, just turned to me and said, “Hmm, yeah, I thought so. You give off a bi-vibe.” A bi-vi-, what the fuck is a bi-vibe? Great, yeah, nothing to make a 15-year-old feel self-conscious about his behavior like being told he emanates a bisexual aura. What am I supposed to do with that? Sorry that I give off mixed signals. I’m versatile. Turns out it was actually a social upgrade from being called gay all the time 'cause bisexual was a new word that only referred to sexuality so people actually had to decide how they felt about the fact I was attracted to boys. As opposed to gay which as we all understand is synonymous with bad and also implies a general threat, plague, curse/evil force that simply must be destroyed. People at school were actually almost nice to me with curiosity about it and a few of the boys that previously loved to just generically call me gay while throwing a compasses at me or something, now started to low-key flirt with me and some stuff happened. Go figure.

But then I entered the dark ages and no I’m not talking about my hair because I was never actually cool enough to commit to dying it black. As quickly as they arrived into my life, my emo friend group vanished into the night. Like the tip of an eyeliner pencil snapping or the HTML on your intricately-crafted MySpace page falling apart when the host websites of your embedded gifs die, so, too, did my social life. One had to suddenly focus on school, another moved town, two of them just fell out with each other and started hanging out with their old friends again. Well, we don’t all have back up friend groups, Lindsey! I went all in on the emos! You’re telling me I have to go back to sitting in my kitchen playing Runescape now! Thanks a lot. So for a year I literally had no friends. And this is when the bullying at school really stepped its pussy up. The things people used to say offhand to me in a corridor were now said loudly in classrooms where everybody would laugh. People used to sing songs about me being gay on the bus while my fellow nerds sat around me just stared awkwardly out of the window not wanting to get involved. People shouted things out during GCSE exams in front of the whole school and the low key pushing became punches. People used to wait for me after school just to throw things at me. Once a guy put his hand around my throat and pushed my head against a coat peg in the locker room while everyone was watching and just slapped me for five minutes. But I never reacted. I never cried or got angry or fought back 'cause then I’d be giving them what they wanted and I refused to play along. But this way of dealing with things definitely had an impact on my relationship with emotion going into life. I became a total outcast. No one wanted to come near me out of fear that they’d get targeted, too. So no one ever stood up for me. And, you know, I don’t blame them. I just resent them even to this day. No, I’m kidding, I don’t really. I do. No, I don’t. I, hmm. Teachers at the time obviously did nothing. In fact, one of them saw this happening to me and laughed 'cause you know, boys will be boys especially the gay ones that get killed by the other ones, am I right? Ah, classic lad banter. And home. See, keeping this on the topic of sexuality and not economic class, violence, addiction, and health issues, let’s just say some shit was goin’ down. I didn’t think I could ask my family for help or share my feelings about this, mainly due to my dad. Funny guy, kind of a woke hippie who did and said a lot of things I did respect but at the same time used to walk around the house saying how he hoped someone he had a problem with at work would *clears throat* “die of bum cancer.” Yep, so picked the one area to be a bigot that would further traumatize your child. Nice! This experience coming from a childhood hearing the word gay meaninglessly thrown around as an insult at home and school, in music, on TV, to then realizing I am actually kinda gay, to then very specifically being attacked for it was traumatic. The world was clearly telling me if I ever wanted to be accepted by anyone or, in my particular environment, survive, I couldn’t be gay. I was afraid of it, literally homophobic of myself. I am talking Pavlov, sunken place, North Korea-level mind alteration that made me terrified of and repulsed by this part of me. This is called internalized oppression. It’s a real thing and it’s some real shit.

Chapter 3 – Internalized Oppression

From this moment I was no longer advertising myself as bi. No, BRB deleting that Myspace real quick, xD lemme get on that Bebo. “My Chemical Romance”? No, I’m listen to what’s this, N-Dubz? Jesus Christ. I go away for the summer break and come back to school quiet and serious and fully straight. *coughs* I needed me some new friends that were a bit higher up the social ladder, you know what I’m sayin’ for security so I go ahead and join “The Inbetweeners”. Literally this group of friends, the exact middle ground between nerds and desperately wanting to be cool. And oh how desperate we were. The great thing about these friends was they knew loads of girls. So firstly, instant cool points. Secondly, if I date a girl *scoffs* super not gay. The problem with that was it’s not like everyone just forgot everything that’s been said about me and this group of friends, casually homophobic pretty much all the time and also they hung out in places near some even more aggressive and super homophobic peeps. Just full-time Runescape would have been a better in hindsight. I find myself going through the same shit at school but now voluntarily going through it at the weekends from the people that are supposed to be my friends thinking I’m doing the right thing whilst constantly telling myself I’m now totally heterosexual. So I did what many people choose to do at that point and I got a girlfriend. But this is pretty messed up because I really liked this girl. In fact, I loved her as a friend and I was genuinely attracted to her but I was so afraid of sexuality I didn’t even wanna do anything straight in case I had some weird gay panic that I was totally frigid and I led her on. And when she got pissed at me, understandably, for being a terrible boyfriend, I just felt even worse. This was someone who I liked that I was hurting and lying to but I couldn’t leave as then I’d have no armor. Beautiful irony here is having a girlfriend didn’t in any way stop the abuse 'cause remember, gay is a great all-purpose general insult. (Call someone gay today and we’ll throw in a free set of steak knives.) And when these neighborhood teens started heavy drinking and getting into drugs, things suddenly got quite scary as people joked about setting fire to a tent as I slept in it at Reading Festival. Or saying, “You know that notoriously unstable guy? Yeah, he said he’s gonna kill you next Saturday.” Awkward.

This was definitely the lowest point in my life. I just felt totally alone, confused and I deeply hated myself. I used to ask God, in case he was there, to please, just make me straight and everyone stop. But I saw no end, no escape, no way to change the world or who I was. So one evening I thought fuck it and I attempted suicide.

I say attempted, because just before it was too late I thought

“oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit what have i done what have i done fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck?”

“what will your grandma think don’t do this to her she tried her best and she loves you”

“your family aren’t total dicks and this will fuck them up can’t you just get over it surely”

“you’re gonna get to the last year of school and give up now really what was the point”

“I heard this is one of the most painful ways to die so not a great choice if I’m being blunt”

Felt kinda bad for a few days otherwise I pretended it never happened and I didn’t tell anyone, until now, literally. Hmm, I know pretty dark right, but hey spoiler things kinda worked out. I mean still gotta lot of issues but here I am. I’m so glad I failed for so many reasons, for the people in my life, for the future I would’ve wasted. The most important being that I thought I was trapped in a situation forever when in reality, the entire world I lived in and my life changed completely. I thought it was hopeless when in reality there was so much to hope for and that’s it. Time changes everything. With the lives that we have, we can try anything we’ve dreamed of. I want anyone that’s ever felt like this to realize you are never trapped. There is always hope. You just need to believe in yourself and get to the other side. So yeah school age 6 to 18, I’m gonna give that a bad Google review. The thing is I did stand out. I’ve always been a loudmouth, class clown, annoying shit. Since graduating, it turns out half the people I knew were fuckin’ gay. That group of friends I had, all lovely people now. Five of them were gay, five gays! That is statistically irregular. Oh but they flew under the radar. All I’m saying is I wish people just hated me for being annoying and immature. Leave the gays alone!

My light at the end of the tunnel was university. I was gonna get my A levels move to a new town and ghost these bitches. But I took a gap year first to earn some money which was very boring sitting at home and working at ASDA where I was not happy to help. My shift started at 5 a.m. on a Saturday. Signed up for a Twitter account to run my mouth off and then bam. “So my name is [Dan].” My YouTube story begins, a new chapter of my life to redefine. So you know what I do? Get a Formspring because nothing gives you that attention feeling like one of those anonymous question and answer websites that are inherently toxic and no one should use. And straight out of the bat bisexual Dan returns. 'Cause hey, just like Myspace, I’m only telling a few people on the internet right now. It’s not like one day I’m gonna get so many followers that random strangers and my family might see it. Wow, I had a lot fun with many different kinds of people in 2009. Let’s just say I got a lot out of my system. Got a couple of things in my system, too. Sorry.

And this is when, through the magic of the internet, I met Phil. And obviously we were more than friends but it was more than just romantic. This is someone that genuinely liked me. I trusted them. And for the first time since I was a tiny child, I actually felt safe. And the relationship we formed at that point was something that I needed in my life. We are real best friends, companions through life, like actual soulmates, not that souls are a real thing that exist. It’s so lucky to just find someone you can be that compatible with and especially to anyone that has experienced the kind of self-hatred that I have dealt with, one person accepting you can make all the difference. And I bet so many people wanna know so much more about that which, honestly, I take as a compliment. But here’s the thing. I’m somebody that wants to keep the details of my personal life private. So is Phil. I know lots of people these days, thanks to social media, want to share and monetize every aspect of their life and then as soon as something changes suddenly it’s this huge drama because everybody got invested in the story of your life like it’s a soap opera. I don’t want that. I wanna do certain things without an audience. I wanna be spontaneous. I don’t wanna feel afraid to take risks. I want to enjoy totally fucking something up and not have to post a statement about it. And if anyone thinks people really have to share these things about their life, you need to rethink your position. And look, I understand that sex is a fun and interesting thing to talk about. I get it. I am also a disgusting pervert. But the specific minutiae of who I be fuckin’, when, why, where, how long, how, uhh, I mean? Sexuality is a general fact that it can be very useful to know about a person for several reasons, but we can’t force people to disclose that either. We don’t know this person’s life story, what they’ve been through, if they haven’t told people, if they’ll lose their job, if they’re in danger. There are so many reasons someone might not be open about it. We can preach the message that being out is good, but aggressively speculating or trying to out someone is really bad. They might not be gay, in which case we’re just harassing someone and probably stereotyping. And if they are there’s gonna be a reason why they haven’t talked about it. So I don’t wanna see any responses to me finally talking about this like no one is surprised. “Dan we been knew.” Wow, you huge galaxy brain genius. What’s it like walking around with all those brain cells in there working overtime? What, you got like three in there? Don’t lose your balance, mastermind. I haven’t exactly been subtle have I? I’m an awkward, sexually ambiguous nerd. “What the fuck even is your sexuality?” That’s not the point. I’m already dead inside so it doesn’t matter here, but to me if someone’s reaction to a person coming out is just, “yeah, I knew”, they’re showing no empathy towards the issue or that person. They’re just making it about themselves like it was a fun piece of gossip they already knew. All we have to do is listen and be accepting.

So anyway back to the tale. Whilst things were looking up for Dan aged 18, things quickly got messy again. Wow, that beats the emo streak of temporary self-acceptance by like six months, nice. There was a point around 2011 where the relationship with my audience shifted from what felt like direct communication between me and individuals that just saw me as a comedy creator to communities of people that formed to talk about me when I wasn’t there. Which is fine, but for some people it was about getting generally invested in me and my real life which I thought was a bit strange 'cause inevitably like anyone who puts themself out there, some people started to really dig into my private life to find out information about me that I wasn’t ready to share. And this was around the same time that YouTubers finally started to get mainstream recognition in the British press. We had the BBC knocking at our door trying to offer Dan and Phil a radio show. From that, Dan and Phil became this entertainment duo that we could have a creative career with. And we love working together, so when all these opportunities came for Dan and Phil, we were really excited but I was also scared as people clearly knew I wasn’t straight and I hadn’t told my family that. None of my old friends knew about this, and what me and Phil had was ours and personal and yet some people were trying to get access to it for their own satisfaction. It was no longer a few people on the internet, no big deal. So I just shut down. It felt like I was back at school again, surrounded by threatening people trying to expose me for their entertainment. Most I’m sure just wanted what was best for me and I feel such genuine sadness and am sorry that I couldn’t be closer to and more truthful with the people in my life that were just trying to be nice but I wasn’t ready to deal with it at this time so I had to do something to contain it. I definitely sent some mixed messages. Some were just joking around, others were super defensive that in my panic came across like “I’m now telling everyone I’m totally straight” when all I really meant was “please fuck off and don’t invade my privacy, you creepy stalkers, thank you”. But this experience seriously triggered some PTSD in me and I was back in the dark place. I didn’t want to just disappear from the internet to escape it and throw away this creative hobby that actually started paying rent. Thanks. So I just decided to put anything to do with my sexuality in a box to come back to later as I was still processing my past and I wanted to understand my identity on my own terms and timeline and not just have it hijacked as fuel for people’s sexual fantasies or some headline in an article. And whilst we’re not exactly living in a utopia yet here on YouTube, the general internet culture only five or six years ago was a much less wholesome, progressive place as this little bubble is now. Sure, a lot of people probably would have been supportive, but there was just as much open bigotry and general toxicity 'cause people felt less accountable and it was okay to say certain things 'cause it’s just on the internet and I couldn’t handle that at the time. And, generally, I can handle a lot. I have big hands with a very wide reach for playing piano, you fucking.. get your mind out of the gutter. We can’t ask people to just put their lives on hold to address their sexuality first. If a kid dreams of being a footballer and age 18 gets signed to a club and all their dreams come true but they’re scared to come out because of the insane homophobia in that community, they shouldn’t turn it down. Yes, it’s so important to be truthful about who you are and open and proud in front of the world but it’s our society’s fault that these people are scared to say who they are. So let’s all focus on making it a welcoming place and people will come out when they are ready. So when was I ready? Well, it’s always been on my mind that I need to talk about this at some point. I couldn’t just keep going forward in my life ignoring it, not only just so I can be authentic, which is very important for general existing, but also just letting people know what kind of sexual attention I want from the world. All of it from everyone. God I’m so thirsty. And if anything motivated me, it’s the idea that I can help someone else 'cause that’s basically my whole career, isn’t it, admitting to shit that I’ve been through so you will feel better about yourselves. There we go, you’re welcome. I have a platform and a following of millions of people, many of whom I know have been through exactly what I have. And if I tell my story as painful and flip floppy and flawed as it is, I know it will mean something to someone as every time someone speaks openly about sexuality, it saves lives. I’d never met a single out gay person until I was 18. And if I had, or even just seen better representation in the media, I wouldn’t have felt so totally alone. I wouldn’t even be saying this to you now if it wasn’t for TV shows, musicians, and public figures in the last couple years reinforcing this to me. It doesn’t matter if I was living the life privately as there was still so much confusion about my feelings and fear. But things are better now, on the internet, on TV, in my real life. It’s not perfect but it feels safe enough in this space right now for me to feel confident. So thank you, sincerely, to all the brave people that came before me and to any of you that made this world seem welcoming for me. And instead of procrastinating from this by focusing on work, which was a way for me to insure my own independence and survival in case I was rejected, or just doing things for other people to take my mind off it instead of asserting my own needs, which my therapist keeps telling me is one of my biggest problems. Here I am with a fresh void of time in front of me to fuck up however I want. Now look, we all have different experiences in life. Some of us are lucky, some of us not. It just so happened that the first 18 years of my life were horrendously shit. It failed me. But we get dealt cards from the start, too. If you look at my life, I was born into this world as an able-bodied, white, cis-man in Britain which immediately gives me so much privilege in this current world and I am fully aware of how much harder making it to today could have been for me, which is why we all need to stand up for equality and social justice even if it doesn’t apply to us. No one stood up for me when it mattered the most and that almost cost me everything. So if you see a woman being harassed, a gay being threatened, someone muttering something racist, say something, do something because if you’re still or silent, the victim will just think that you are against them, too. We all have a responsibility.

This tale was just some of the stuff relating to sexuality. We all have a whole sob story if we wanna tell it but I just wanted to explain the journey of how I got to this point and overcame the obstacles that tried to block this path. And now I’ve arrived.

Chapter 4 – Labels

Okay cool story, bro, it’s answer time. What’s your answer. Whaddayalikedafuk? Here’s the thing, you want me to talk candidly about sexuality as if it’s something that I understand? I don’t know what it is, why it is. Turns out no one knows. I’ve been sitting here for years waiting for scientists to just work it out like bleep bloop. [Oh this is why and exactly how it’s different for people. There we go.] Thinking I shouldn’t run off my mouth on the internet in case my theories and opinions on varying gayness get debunked next week. Well, I waited long enough and it didn’t happen. Science, ya fucked up, you let me down. And I fully expect to have to delete this video in two weeks when you find out all the answers suddenly. Thanks a bunch. What makes someone gay or straight or all the things in between? What the ever loving fuck is gender about? This is a mess. Yet people want you to give them a word because that’s how humans communicate with words that have meanings. Which is why our disgusting species is impatient, stupid, and obsessed with labels. And this applies to everything, sexuality, gender, political identity, what obscure genre of synthwave you listen to. People just want a label that represents something they understand so they already know how to feel about you and don’t have to bother thinking. [Oh you’re a feminist well I don’t need to know anything more. Oh you’re a leftist. Oh you’re a K-pop fan but but but but.] If people just want to find a way to disagree with you or dislike you, they can refer to the label and turn off their brains. Hey, what does my label say? Huh. The issue is, especially when we start talking about the writhing mass of confusion and suffering that is sexual and gender identity, the limits of language and specific terminology become a big problem. What does being gay mean? You never thought about a boob once? What does being a man mean? You wanna be an emotionless rock rubbing raw steaks against your biceps? It’s not like humanity is all in agreement right now. I don’t like the stereotypes and drama that come with all this terminology so I’m just not gonna use it. Thing is gender identity isn’t my issue. I feel comfortable with the identity that I’ve had my whole life. Dan, a tol boy from England. But being a man means nothing to me. I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable wearing makeup or a sickening pair of heels, though I can’t even draw in a straight line so that would be a disaster. Also is anyone really comfortable wearing heels? Hmm. Icons of masculinity aren’t really a big part of my life. Might as well call me a fucking formless blob that sounds more relatable. Shout out to all my formless blobs out there, rise up. I don’t have to do anything or be anything and I personally wouldn’t feel offended if I wasn’t referred to as a he. Well, she’s feeling hungry today. Stop fucking judging me, Susan. I’m sad and I’m gonna eat this whole damn cake whether you like it or not. But anyone that has this don’t really care attitude about their gender identity is in a way privileged 'cause some people, especially trans, care a lot about their gender identity and using the correct pronouns which other people should respect. Likewise with sexuality, whilst to me the endlessly increasing list of tribes and flags being flown is a bit daunting and confusing and personally stresses me out 'cause I almost find it constrictive, some people like it. Because if you’re feelings are confusing and then you look at a word that represents something and go, “wow, that me”, it can help you realize you’re valid and find a community and that’s great. There is so much controversy around this issue and others but if we all just calm down, respect each other’s experiences and try to just be nice, reasonable people, which is a lot to ask, let’s be real, it’s quite simple. If you wanna use language to express your honest feelings and identity, that’s great and other people should respect what you say. Likewise, if you hate labels and you just wanna be a formless blob, that’s fine, too. No one should force you. The only thing that isn’t cool is telling other people what they should or should not identify as 'cause that ain’t your problem or your business, bye. This was one of the things that held me back from talking about this for years. Shit’s confusing, man. Let’s just go back to cellular reproduction by mitosis so I don’t really have to be specific. Two people that I really look up to and respect, Harry Styles and Janelle Monae, both famously say that they don’t feel the need to label it which, to be honest, is how I feel and is perfectly okay. But I get it, for me, you want a word. Oh, that’s hard, though. I’m an annoying guy. I feel uncertain specifying my sexuality in the same way I wouldn’t say I am an atheist. Who the fuck am I to say whether God does or doesn’t exist? I don’t know shit 'bout shit and neither does anyone else. I mean I think it’s unlikely in the same way I know I like DICK. But I’m not gonna pretend to have a definite answer here. Looking at my public statements is inconsistent and confusing. Looking at my personal track record through life is super confusing. And looking at the void inside my soul threatening to crush the entire universe with the force of its event horizon of misery and melodrama, well, fuck let’s close that shit up. One thing’s for sure whatever heterosexual is, I ain’t it. Really if you ask me, I don’t think anyone’s totally straight. I think there’s a lot of social and emotional issues getting in the way of yet to be understood feelings of attraction that can be very flexible. And trust me, I’ve known a lot of straight guys until a couple of drinks, some deep conversation, and lingering eye contact, and suddenly they just start leaning in. What does that make them? And am I totally gay? No. Am I slightly more gay or is it just easier for gays to hook up with each other because of societal norms. It’s not like the signs for male and female bathrooms are what I’m attracted to. I don’t care what flesh organ you have between your legs, what your hair’s like, if you’re covered in it or a fuckin’ beluga whale. I’m gonna be honest, I’m not picky. I’m easy. So am I bi or pan or poly? Well, now we’re just in a clusterfuck of defining language and I’m confused and sad and horny. This is why I personally love the word queer. I understand that some people don’t as it is a slur but as someone that’s been the target of it several times throughout my life I’m up for some reclamation. It’s like recycling. The definition makes sense because until society is equal with all sexual and gender identifies, it is literally strange from a conventional viewpoint plus it’s better than a super long acronym, it’s inclusive of everyone and therefore great for formless blobs. There we go, an identity I feel comfortable with. A highly-strung, depressed queer praying for a giant meteor to hurry up and finally eradicate humanity. LMAO, yeet!

But to come full circle, I know that even today, deep in my heart the word gay scares me because that’s how I’ve been conditioned my whole life. So, you know what? Fuck the literal definition and the scientific definition and what everyone thinks. I finally have to just confront and accept this.

I’m gay.

Oh look, didn’t spontaneously fucking combust. Well, there we go, that was a lot of stress about nothing, wasn’t it? Bloody hell. So yup, I’m here, I’m queer, and don’t worry I’m still filled with existential fear.

WE’RE HERE, WE’RE QUEER WE’RE FILLED WITH EXISTENTIAL FEAR.

Chapter 5 – Fear

Even though I’m at this current place, there is still so much I’m afraid of and this has taken months to make because of that. Telling my family was a big fear. I have problems connecting with them emotionally because reasons. So I only came out to them this month and if it didn’t go well, as I’m now the independent adult that I fought so hard to be, I was ready to cut them off like the bottom of a sweater turning into a seasonal crop. But I didn’t have to, love you. I didn’t think they’d reject me these days but coming out is still a surprise. It changes things. And I’m a pretty awkward person generally but the idea of just dropping this in conversation in front of them all terrified me. And I tried several times this year to do it but I just couldn’t. So you know how I finally came out to my family? E-mail. Yep, I literally just sent them an e-mail saying and I quote,

“Hello gang. I’ve been meaning to talk to you all for a while, something quite important that should be disclosed at some point. I thought I would around Christmas, then Mum’s birthday, then last Easter Sunday, etc., but every time I meant to, I either felt like I would ruin the mood of the day or I just felt awkward and didn’t want to. So I decided just to email you all instead which is really inappropriate and just weird but that somehow seems appropriate for me and at least I’ll just finally say it.

Basically I’m gay.”

Yup. It was just getting ridiculous so I thought screw it and hey, it worked. Turns out my remaining family, pretty chill bunch of people. Even my Christian grandma said this,

“We love you for being you. It must be a great relief to finally acknowledge who you are. Popsie and I just want you to be happy. People are born as they are and have no say in it. I hope that now you will feel free to live your life as you want with no pretense.”

Aw.

“Don’t forget the iPad.”

Yes, I said I’d give her my old iPad. She mainly cares about that I thing. Wasn’t so sure when I was 17 but it went well now and I know that makes me lucky but, hey, it shows that times change. As for the other people in my life, obviously all the friends I have now are cool. If anyone in my life I’ve ever known isn’t cool with it then I don’t care. And sure here online there might be a few incredibly lost bigots following me or just some classic trolls who I think should get fucked. No, like literally, I think you should try it. You’ll probably enjoy it and you might learn something about yourself. Inevitably some of you watching this might have a weird reaction if you just feel like it was a shock or you feel hurt that I kept it from you. But I feel like I explained myself reasonably here and going forward I can’t have any space for that, sorry. I’ve come to terms with who I am and now you have to, too, ha. Funnily enough straight up homophobia is probably the one thing I’m not that afraid of, because I just don’t agree so it doesn’t hold much emotional power over me but you bet I’m opening myself up to all new kinds of in real life and international discrimination now which is fun. But one of the other big fears holding me back was, honestly, that I wouldn’t be accepted by the community. I know that it’s a big pride flag covering a lot of ground and even the idea of it and certainly most of it is amazing. But there is a lot of drama within it right now especially on the internet. You’ve got Grindr gays arguing about how manly gays should be, bi’s getting ignored, trans people, especially of color, not being historically appreciated, acephobia, fucking SWERFs and TERFs. No thank you. So even though they are my people, I know some of them will have problems with something. And even then, just seeing such a loud and proud, strong and opinionated group of people celebrating something just intimidates a smol introvert such as myself. And in my mind if these people don’t accept me because I’m not being definitive enough or I took too long then I almost feel like I’ll be alone all over again, and this is a fear that a lot of people have honestly. But I’m a nice guy and I’m trying my best so you better be welcoming, you bunch of fuckin’ queers. And obviously with the topic of sexuality, it doesn’t matter where we are or how far you think we’ve come, by merely mentioning it, I will be opening up a primordial box of bullshit which will include every single stupid argument and question since the dawn of time. [It’s not natural.] There’s gay animals. [Adam and Steve.] That’s based on a story and the protagonist that arrives later probably doesn’t agree with you. [Why can’t we have straight pride?] I could spend 10 hours on all the classic crap and people would still be asking the same things. This being posted on the internet, my hopes are so incredibly low, lower than my self-esteem. Wow, that is unhealthy. I need to stop doing that. This video is about internalized oppression and the problems of language. I’m not here to pontificate on every topic tangentially related to the entire concept of gayness. *ASMR voice*: Pontificate on every topic tangentially related to the concept of gayness.

There’s other humans and all the time in the world left for that. The time in the world coincidentally being not much longer. Climate change LMAO. But I had to tell my story so people would understand me and these things. Why coming out is still a big deal because queer people are often invisible and suffering until they have to do it. Some people grow up in supportive environments and it’s a positive experience. But more likely, especially around the world outside of the big cities, it isn’t. This is not a fight that is anywhere near over. Even in Britain today people are debating whether children should be taught to be accepting of sexual and gender identity in school.

Queer people exist. Choosing not to accept them is not an option.

To anyone watching this that isn’t out, it’s okay. You’re okay. You were born this way, it’s right, and anyone that has a problem with it is wrong. Based on your circumstance, you might not feel ready to tell people yet or that it’s safe and that’s fine, too. Just know that living your truth, with pride, is the way to be happy. You are valid. It gets so much better. And the future is clear. It’s pretty queer.

So there we go. Now I can proceed authentically in my life with full disclosure. Cute mutuals know to slide into the DMs. And you can all fuck off and leave me alone.

Bye.

#basically i'm gay #daniel howell #danielhowell #dan and phil #amazingphil #phil lester #yes im tagging i dont care #if there's a flaw somewhere (like a missed part or sm) dm me so i could fix it #id go through it again anyway but just in case #oh and it's literally just dan's substitles so all credits to him or whoever did that #hmm i wonder if they hired someone. interesting #have fun #the script

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