#But I don't really have people that I trust that much surrounding me
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As a simple example, that 8 glasses of water thing was a lie spread by scientists that were partnered with Gatorade. Just drink when you're thirsty.
Diamonds and bacon are in a similar boat. People love them mostly because of advertisements. That's why diamonds cost so much, too! Now, granted, gems are pretty, and bacon tastes good, but the ads did more harm than good.
And cutting calories doesn't work because calories are just how much energy it takes to boil it in water, and your body runs to use whatever nutrients it can when it has a deficit. It's not uncommon for it to eat at your muscles and other soft tissues instead of fat. As ironic as it is for someone like me to say, the best diet for losing weight is a balanced one. Sugar is the main issue, btw, not fat. In fact, fat is healthy for you, gets turned into lipids which can be beneficial for brain health. Now that doesn't mean you should just eat fat, it's all about balance and moderation. Grease is in a similar vein, it's not quite the best for you but a bit here and there won't kill you. And frankly, a bit of a belly is good for humans, it protects the body from bludgeoning and slashing damage. Sure, it'll hurt like hell, but you're more likely to get a punctured innards or have them fall out if you are thin than if you have some fat blocking the way. The main danger is the oily fat that surrounds organs, not the kind that covers your body. External is fine, internal is dangerous.
Then there's the BRAT diet. While it is easier on your digestive system, it can actually make diarrhea WORSE because the food is so soft it leaves acid left over. Same with grapes and meal substitute drinks. Especially meal substitute drinks! Liquid diets in general do this, but these are the worst because you drink enough to fill your stomach, prompting it to generate acid...for something that is pretty much already digested...I think you see the problem.
Everyone knows cold helps with swelling. Problem is, swelling is important for recovery, and putting ice on it actually slows recovery down. You actually want to put warmth on it! You want more blood to the area, because it brings nutrients and cells that fight infections.
As well, everyone knows to use IcyHot, right? Wrong, the chemicals used to make that work, especially the stuff that directly puts it on your body like the rollers, actually damages your skin and can lead to skin cancer!
And then there's Red 40. A synthetic chemical that also gives cancer!
Everyone knows you have to cook meat. Problem is, the smoke and char that can cause leads to cancer too. Not the meat itself, though. And I still don't trust any meat that isn't well done. Way too risky. You do know there can be germs inside the meat, right?
Everyone knows vaping is supposed to be a safe alternative to smoking. Problem is, water vapor in the lungs can easily lead to mold and infections. And the nicotine is so concentrated it's actually worse than cigarettes!
And my personal favorite, everyone knows Pokemon Gen 1 was held together with duct tape and dreams, except the glitches actually occur due to them using things to make other things happen. For example, having the name "Old Man" show up is done by storing your name in the town Pokemon tables. Those get reset when you enter a new route. But the area by the islands are coded to be water tiles within the city in the English versions. Not an issue, just program an encounter table for them...oh, right, since it's an English oversight, there was never an intended table. Really the easy fix would have been to extend the routes to include those edges. But yea, the reality is that the games did so much with what they had that hiccups occur. Same with Gen 2, that's why you can get a Celebi by using Beat Up, same index number. Gen 3 they got enough space to not have to be bleeding edge, so their glitches are from things interacting in ways nobody expected, like Glitzer Popping.
So yea, there's nothing wrong with fact checking "common knowledge", because we learn new things all the time. Common knowledge could easily be lies, or misunderstandings, or assumptions.
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I want to be more authentic on my other social media platforms too, where irl people know me.
But I have such an intense fear of being perceived I sit. For 3 hours. On a post before posting it 😭😭 I literally just stare at it and have an anxiety attack lol.
And even then sometimes I end up deleting it.
Even though I only do it for myself and nobody really cares it's still ajajaja hard.
But I want people to see me more than a shallow human lol
And maybe, even if only one person likes my "true" self, then I'd be happy 🥲
But what if they bully me more ahhah I already am not the most well liked 🥲🥲🥲🥲
THOUGHTS GO AWAY lol 😭
#I want to be loved kinda#but I feel like if I keep hiding how I feel around people I will never be able to truly connect to anyone#I know. That I could open up to people irl better.#But I don't really have people that I trust that much surrounding me#So that's why even posting as small as a quote or a music on my instagram is a huge things for me#Bc maybe someone who previously found me uninteresting could idk become interested? If they see I'm also a human lol 😭#Idk this doesn't make sense but I struggled with this since I was a kid and finally I have a desire to change#I have a desire to be seen kinda ahhaah#I have a weird story but actually one time as a kid I almost choked because I didn't one to bother my mom??? I didn't want her to help me#bc I felt guilty????#And this pattern of feeling like a burden follows me like my own shadow ahaha#but I... kinda want to feel like a burden sometimes to be honest#I just wish to leave a mark in the world in one way or another#idk I wish people could remember me for my soul and not my looks and face ahaha yes idk#it's 6 am actually!! finally stayed awake ahaha.
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lies face down on my bed and develops mental illness^2
#i realized exactly why i can't front for extended periods without hanging out with a lot of irl people#i NEED to be surrounded by humans or else i start forgetting how to be one of them#(or at least as close as i can get. as close as really matters)#i need people i need connection and i'm at a place in my existence where i can like admit that#but without all that... i just get so....fucking crazy#my bedroom gets too small for me#i lose shape i unravel#i want too much that i can't have#back to square 1 for me in a way...#but it's INFURIATING because no i already did this!#i got better!#i learned how to be vulnerable and trust and be kind and love!#i'm not just that one mean cold protector alter anymore!#i don't do this anymore!#i don't spend all my time in a single room where i fester and ache for some impossible better life#but no this time it's not even about me#it's about the transphobia and the fact that this place has long ceased to be safe#the old places aren't safe anymore and there's nowhere new that's any better#this whole city is a trap and i'm right in the middle of it#and that's isolating#and we all know how i do under isolation#(bad)#(really fucking bad)#fae.exe
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i am Actually done with vet med to the point where i'm not waiting to get accepted to a grad program i'm applying to coffee shop jobs NOW.
#gay and obscure nonsense#there's just Zero trust between me and certain coworkers to the point where it's interfering with the actual job#because people Don't Fucking Listen To Me about important things and report me for random shit#and when i try to change my behavior based on the feedback i get from that someone ELSE gets mad at me (or the same person sometimes)#so i can't fucking win and the manager doesn't realize it because she's never on the floor!!!!#i literally don't even know what she does other than hire people and tell people that other people complained about them#it's just not fucking worth it lmao if it keeps up like this i'm gonna get blamed for something REALLY bad#this was supposed to be the job that made being a vet tech a viable career to live on but my opportunities for advancement have vanished#because the person who was supposed to be my mentor is a fucking psychopath#and i literally only got a 20 cent raise over what i was making in general practice so i'm doing a much harder job with no incentive#surrounded by two faced bitches who need to tear others down to feel okay about themselves#i'm OUT lmao. i know food service sucks but at least i won't have to watch people's pets die every day there
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Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".
[plain-text version of this post can be found under the cut]
Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"
And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".
Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.
At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.
So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!
Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!
Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!
Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.
Plain-text version:
Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".
Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"
And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".
Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.
At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.
So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!
P.S. Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!
Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!
Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.
#hlep#original#mental health#my sympathies and empathies to anyone who has to rely on this kind of hlep to get what they need.#the people in my life who most need to see this post are my family but even if they did I sincerely doubt they would internalize it#i've tried to break thru to them so many times it makes my head hurt. so i am focusing on boundaries and on finding other forms of support#and this thing i learned today helps me validate those boundaries. the example with the milk was from my therapist.#the example with the towing company was a real thing that happened with my parents a few months ago while I was age 28. 28!#a full adult age! it is so infantilizing as a disabled adult to seek assistance and support from ableist parents.#they were real mad i was mad tho. and the spoons i spent trying to explain it were only the latest in a long line of#huge family-related spoon expenditures. distance and the ability to enforce boundaries helps. haven't talked to sisters for literally the#longest period of my whole life. people really believe that if they love you and try to help you they can do no wrong.#and those people are NOT great allies to the chronically sick folks in their lives.#you can adore someone and still fuck up and hurt them so bad. will your pride refuse to accept what you've done and lash out instead?#or will you have courage and be kind? will you learn and grow? all of us have prejudices and practices we are not yet aware of.#no one is pure. but will you be kind? will you be a good friend? will you grow? i hope i grow. i hope i always make the choice to grow.#i hope with every year i age i get better and better at making people feel the opposite of how my family's ableism has made me feel#i will see them seen and hear them heard and smile at their smiles. make them feel smart and held and strong.#just like i do now but even better! i am always learning better ways to be kind so i don't see why i would stop
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an iron man | oneshot
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pairing: choi beomgyu x you
summary: beomgyu has only ever known how to live function as a rental sexbot. he fucks whoever and whatever comes his way with a forced smile plastered on his face. that is, until you, a self-proclaimed trainwreck, come along.
genre: android!au, sexbot!au, angst, romance, fluff (more than i ever thought i could ever write i fear...), skippable smut at the very end (will be marked)
warnings: very brief and vague mentions of beomgyu being forced to engage in sexual acts he does not want with previous clients, skippable smut at the very end (will be marked)
smut warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, praise, dacryphilia, sub!gyu
word count: 14.7k (trust i will not be writing this much again if this flops BWNWJSJEJDK)
notes: terrified to post this one because this is probably my favorite thing i've ever written and if it gets a bad reaction i might die :,) also very unsure if this is the best time to post it since it's during kinktober so i'm not sure if the demand is there but i love this work so so much i pray you all like it. if you don't read anything else from me, i hope that you read this bc i rlly care ab it :,) please don't be mean i beg
beomgyu doesn’t know how long he’s been living like this. living is an odd term, too, and it’s not just because “life” is ill-defined for an android, but because to call what he experiences a life feels like a bastardization of the term. his power is turned on at some point, usually late at night, he fucks or gets fucked by somebody he probably doesn’t know, then he does the same shit all over again. so yes, he may be “alive”, but he wouldn't dare to call what he experiences living. living is too precious of a term to be used so cheaply on a sex android who’s made available for rent to the highest bidder of the night.
he’s seen how people live through his scattered vignettes of human life. he only gets them when he’s powered on, but he soaks them up with pleasure because they’re the only thing he’s ever known. some people do it wildly, living unattached to everyone and everything. their lives are not completely dissimilar to his, in a way, except they have a choice in the matter. they have time to find themselves, what their likes and dislikes are, and they get to connect with people in a way he will never have the power to. others, though, live the kind of life he really wants. they live by loving and being loved, knowing and being known. he wonders what it’d be like to know somebody outside of whatever secret deviant sexual pleasures they have. he wonders what it’s like to be known, too, but he guesses you would need to have something for someone to care enough to know about in the first place. he has no such thing.
it’s a night like any other when he’s powered on by a total stranger. he briefly takes in his surroundings and notices that it’s a really nice place, but you wouldn’t be the first rich person to rent him — not by a longshot. next, he takes you in. now, there’s no reason for you to dress up, really. you have no need to tempt him, as he will be able to feign attraction no matter what you look like, but he still finds it odd that you seem to have forgone any effort to appeal to him, if only because most people’s fantasies require them to look and feel sexy; but you don’t look sexy at all. you look like you’ve just gotten home from a long day at work, and honestly? you kind of smell like it, too.
“do you think you could do the dishes for me? i’m exhausted,” you ask with a perfectly-timed yawn. what…?
he short-circuits for a moment as he tries to think of an appropriate response. he’s never had anyone try to get him to do chores for them, but maybe this is some sort of weird roleplay? maybe you want him to act as a house husband for you before doing the deed, which isn’t necessarily a problem since he’s well-versed in acting, but there’s just one issue.
“i don’t know how,” he tells you honestly.
“you don’t know how to do dishes?” you ask curiously.
“it’s not in my programming,” he replies. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s embarrassed because of the way he hesitates and looks away from you when he says it. he can’t possibly feel that, though, so it must just be your imagination.
“oh… that’s alright. okay, do you know how to clean a room? mine’s kind of dirty,” you try.
“n-no,” he says, and he wishes the earth would just swallow him whole. he’s never failed at living up to expectations, and never so badly, at that. just what kind of fetish is this?
“that’s okay,” you sigh, and he may not fully understand it, but he can sense your disappointment. “well, what can you do?” and the question is not asked maliciously, but with what seems to be genuine wonder. ah. he knows how to answer this one. slowly, he walks up to you and loosens your hair. you look up at him in shock, but he just cups your face, swiping his thumb across your lower lip.
“i can do whatever you want me to, baby,” he whispers alluringly. “just tell me how you like it.” you’re so stunned at his switch in demeanor that you forget how to speak for a moment, but you quickly recollect yourself and pry his hands off of you.
“i don’t want you to do anything,” you insist. “i’m just tired. if you can’t help me clean, that’s alright. you can watch something if you’re bored. i think that’s it. well, goodnight.” beomgyu is malfunctioning at the moment. he thinks the gears in his head might be sparking while he tries to understand this new development. you don’t give him time to process it, though. you just slam your bedroom door shut behind you. he thinks he hears you lock it, too.
genuinely at a loss at the thought that he has nothing and no one to do, he sits himself on your couch. he tries not to make himself too at home at first, just barely making a dent on it and scooting to the very edge of the cushion as to not appear to be too relaxed. what if this is some sort of test? what if you’re actually going to come out soon so you two can fuck? until then, what should he do next? thoughts like this plague him until he accepts the fact that you are actually sleeping. your obnoxiously loud snoring is a dead giveaway, and he finally, finally feels brave enough to fiddle with your remote control.
he scrolls for something to watch. movies and shows have been on as background noise during sex before, so he’s somewhat familiar with them, but he’s never gotten the opportunity to pick for himself or actually pay attention to what's happening on screen. he settles on a romantic movie about a robot who joins human society. the robot falls in love with a human girl, but in the end, the robot has to leave the girl because the town won’t accept him, even after using him. she marries a human man and has children, and eventually grandchildren, too. she still loves the robot even though he’s gone, which he thinks is supposed to make him feel sorry for her, but all he can feel is pity for the robot, who spends the rest of his life alone.
it’s enough to make him cry, which he shouldn’t be able to do in a non-sexual setting, but he does it, anyway. it’s just so unfair to him. the girl is able to live a normal life while the robot is doomed to be alone forever. why? because he was born different? it’s not his fault that he was invented, but he spends the rest of his time on earth paying for the crime of existing in a world not built for him. the more beomgyu thinks about it, the more wronged he feels. he’s outright sobbing by the time you plop down on the couch beside him. he jumps up and straightens his posture while trying in vain to regain his composure.
“yeah, this movie makes me cry, too,” you quietly remark. he’s silent, not because he didn’t hear what you said, but because he genuinely doesn’t know how to act after being caught red handed.
“can i ask you something?” you ask in lieu of his lack of a response.
“yes,” he feebly answers.
“why are you crying?” you question with a tilt of your head, but something in him tells him that you already know.
“because the movie made me sad,” he admits after a pause.
“are androids supposed to feel things like that?”
“... no,” he replies after a pause.
“then why can you?”
“i… i don't know. just please don’t say anything to my owners,” he pleads. he knows that if the company that owns him were to find out about this, he’d be scrapped in a heartbeat. or worse, they’d analyze him like a labrat to try to find the anomaly within him. his “life” as a sexbot will be over, and he’d really rather be a box of scraps than live as a case study in a lab somewhere.
“it’s okay,” you tell him with a reassuring smile as you watch him trying not to spiral. “i won’t tell them. it’ll be our secret.” beomgyu has never had a secret to share with anyone before, so he feels an overwhelming amount of excitement at the idea that he will finally have one. his chest feels warm at the thought.
“thank you,” he says with a grateful smile.
“no problem,” you reply with a yawn. “i’m tired, so i’m heading back to bed. i just wanted to get some water. goodnight, for real this time.”
“goodnight,” he murmurs softly. you return his words with a sleepy smile and go back into your room. he finds that he’s smiling even when you leave.
he spends the night consuming as much media as he conceivably can before he has to leave. usually, he'd be powered off after he’s done being used, so he greedily savors every moment he can. who knows if he'll ever get this chance again. when you wake up, you're surprised to see that he's exactly where you left him, still watching the screen intently.
“good morning,” you say while stretching your arms.
“good morning,” he replies.
“are you ready to be returned?” you ask.
“... yes,” he lies.
“okay. i think somebody will be here to pick you up in an hour or so. you hungry?”
“i don't really eat,” he bashfully answers. for some reason, he's embarrassed at the fact that you're treating him like a human while he's unable to fully act like one.
“oh. i guess that makes sense,” you nod.
things are quiet until he’s picked up, but it’s not an awkward silence. you sit next to him on the couch as you wolf down some breakfast and let him watch whatever he pleases. when he eventually hears knocking at your door, he feels an incomprehensible sense of dread.
“i think that's them,” you remark, breaking the silence.
“y-yeah,” he replies.
“well, it was nice to meet you,” you say, reaching out your hand for him. he’s unsure what to do with it. not missing a beat, you gently grab his hand and shake it. he's stunned at the physical contact, and he's still reeling when you let the man from the rental company in. you have a brief conversation with him before he walks towards beomgyu.
“goodbye,” you tell the android with a smile and a little wave.
“... good—” and the man switches him off.
-
the next time beomgyu is powered on, he’s in your house again. relief floods him when he realizes it. you don’t seem as exhausted as the last time he saw you. when that was, he has no idea, but if he had to guess, he’d say it was just last night because of the fact that he’s so popular he’s rented almost every day.
“hey,” you greet him with a smile. he’s still feeling relieved before he realizes that tonight might be the night where you ask him to have sex with you. maybe you were just tired last night and had no desire to fuck, but he can tell that you’re feeling more energetic tonight.
“i didn’t catch your name,” you add.
“... beomgyu. i’m part of the choi line, but i’m a custom model, so they gave me a name,” he tentatively replies.
“nice,” you nod, and you briefly introduce yourself before asking if he wants to watch a movie.
“watch… a movie?” is this some sort of euphemism for fucking? it wouldn’t be the first time he’s heard of something like this. as mentioned before, some people like movies as background noise.
“yeah, you can pick,” you say, casually plopping down on the couch and patting the cushion next to you. he hesitantly takes your cue, and he’s mentally preparing himself for what comes next before you take a blanket and cocoon yourself in it so tightly, it’d be impossible for him to touch you.
“what’s wrong?” you ask, and he jolts a bit when he realizes that he’s been staring in disbelief. “oh, are you cold? do you want a blanket, too?”
“‘m fine,” he replies.
“are you sure? the clothes they make you wear look a little thin,” you observe with your nose wrinkled, and he feels impossibly small under your surveying eye. “here, i’ll get you some sweats. i think soobin left some the last time he was here.”
“who’s soobin?” he asks a little too quickly. so quickly, in fact, he doesn’t even have time to process why he even asked.
“my friend. stay here, i’ll grab them for you.”
when you return, you have a long pair of sweatpants in hand and a big t-shirt.
“you can change in the bathroom. it’s down the hallway and to the left, okay?” he nods in response.
he strips his clothes off as best as he can, and it feels like he’s shedding a second skin. when he’s finished undressing, he pulls on the clothes you gave him and stares in the mirror. it’s in his programming to always be mindful of how he looks, but he feels especially self-conscious now that he’s wearing a normal outfit. he fixes up his hair and clears his throat before exiting your (messy) bathroom and making his way back into your living room. he finds you fiddling with your phone before you look up at him.
“took you long enough,” you tease, and he blushes, which stuns you. just how human is this guy?
“s-sorry, i —”
“hey, i’m just kidding. you’re fine. you look pretty good in those clothes — soobin would be jealous,” you chuckle. his ears perk up at the mention of soobin again. is he your boyfriend? he must be. why else would he have clothes at your house? is that why you don't want to sleep with beomgyu? because you have someone already? if that's the case, why rent him at all? but he is not brave enough to ask these questions, so he settles for a soft “thank you” and returns to his spot on the couch.
you toss him the remote and he catches it with ease before unsurely flipping through your streaming services. he finds something that piques his interest and turns to you with an uncertain look before you nod encouragingly. he selects it and lets it play. he doesn’t mean to, but he finds himself sinking further and further into the cushions as it progresses.
it’s a sweet movie — a romantic comedy about an amnesic woman whose memory is wiped clean every morning, but a man falls in love with her, anyway. she never remembers him, so he has to make her fall in love with him in a new way every day. he finds himself smiling throughout it, but a particularly funny scene has him actually laughing for the first time. it’s a squeaky sort of thing, and he has never laughed before, so he’s somewhat surprised as it leaves his throat. he looks to you in trepidation, but you just smile warmly and respond with a soft chuckle of your own. he finds that he looks to you every time a new development occurs, and you always answer encouragingly.
the end of the film surprises him. it’s bittersweet in that she never does get her memory back, but the man makes a video recounting their entire love story for her to watch every time she wakes up. it ends with them living happily together in spite of everything, and it’s enough to make him sob. he turns to you and sees that you’re teary-eyed as well, but you seem to be enjoying his reaction so much that there’s still a grin on your face. after the film ends, you can tell that he has something on his mind.
“what’s wrong? didn’t you like it?” you gently ask.
“i did. i just don’t understand,” he replies timidly.
“don’t understand what?”
“why he would do all of that for her, i guess,” he says.
“because he loves her. when you love somebody, you’d do anything to be with them. you always find a way,” you tell him, and the sentiment seems to strike a chord within him.
“even if they’re that different?”
“of course.”
-
beomgyu spends the following nights with this same routine. he’s switched on, sees you standing in front of him with a smile, gets comfortable, and watches as much media as he possibly can while you two chatter away about every scene. he learns much more from it than he ever did from experience with his previous renters, and he finds himself becoming more and more emotional by the day. you never try to question him or press him to explain any of his feelings, and it just makes him feel even more comfortable with you.
one day, he even feels comfortable enough to ask you a question. the question.
“can i ask you something?”
“of course! what is it?” you reply in earnest. beomgyu has never directly inquired about you.
“why do you rent me? i mean, i know we watch stuff together now, but why rent me in the first place?” and even when he feels exponentially more at ease with you than he ever has in any other context, he’s still nervous when he asks it.
“oh, my friend did it as a joke, i guess,” you shrug. “he thought i needed to get laid or something, but i’m not into stuff like that, so i just thought i’d ask you to help me clean. obviously, that’s what i actually need,” you giggle. what he feels at your words can only be described as disappointment. “stuff like that”? so you’re not into sleeping with sexbots? is it because you find them disgusting? is it because you find him disgusting? he’s not sure what he expected, but this wasn’t it.
“oh. so why don’t you buy a cleaning bot?” he asks softly, and while you are usually pretty perceptive of his emotions, you don’t register the fact that he’s at a loss right now.
“i dunno. my parents were always against that sort of thing. they thought it was wrong, i guess, so i didn’t grow up with them like everyone else did. i didn’t really have an opinion on them until i met you,” you tell him while grinning and lightly nudging him with your elbow. he tries his best to smile because, in theory, your words are really sweet. you see him as more than just another android, so why does he feel like that’s not enough?
the fragile connection you two have made seems even more fragile now. at least, it does to him. you only met each other because of a joke your friend just so happened to make, not because of fate or the divine intervention that he always sees in the movies. maybe in another world, your friend rented a different sexbot. maybe you’d even treat them the same way you treat him. the thought alone makes something ugly burn in his chest.
still, you are oblivious to the internal war raging within beomgyu.
“hey, i’ve got an idea,” you tell him, and he perks up a bit. “have you ever listened to music?”
“not really,” he replies solemnly. people have played it in the background of their sexual escapades, but he hasn’t really gotten the chance to listen the same way humans do. you finally register his crestfallen appearance, but you chalk it up to him feeling like he’s missing out.
“why don’t we listen to some? i can play a bunch of different genres so you can find what you like,” you suggest, and he agrees to it. truthfully, he doesn’t fully understand how music can be better than movies and shows, but he is curious to find out what makes it so special.
and special, it is. he doesn’t like every song you play, he realizes, but that’s only natural given how different they are from each other. he finds himself being drawn to the more emotional and moody ones, but he can’t help but enjoy the way you quietly sing and nod along to the more upbeat tunes.
as you continue to sit together, you begin to fiddle with your hair. you’re scoffing and loosening it for the umpteenth time before you’re about to give up, but beomgyu stops you.
“let me do it,” he says.
“do you know how?”
“i think i can. i’ve been watching you,” he says simply.
“... okay.”
you turn your back to him to give him access to your hair and he scoots closer to you. closer than you’ve ever been. his touch on your head is careful as he gently gathers your hair and begins to braid it. you’re not sure how much time passes because he’s actually quite slow, but it’s relaxing all the same. you find yourself softly humming to the tune of the song playing. the lyrics are a little dark, but you follow along in earnest, and beomgyu thinks he finally understands why people like music so much. for moments like this. he tries to soak up every detail he can, from the way the light hits your frame to the melody you hum, and he wishes this moment could last forever.
but you only have so much hair, so the moment does have to end, eventually. he ties up your hair and you pull out your phone camera to admire his handiwork. admittedly, it’s a lot better than anything you could’ve done. it seems that he’s a fast learner.
“this looks perfect! thanks, beoms,” you say warmly. he’s stunned for a second at the nickname.
“beoms?”
“yeah, like beomgyu. beoms,” you say with a casual shrug, and something in his chest blossoms. “i give all of my friends nicknames.” and something in his chest explodes at the title of “friend”.
“you do?” he asks excitedly.
“yeah. like, i call soobin ‘soobinie’ or ‘soobie’, sometimes,” you giggle, and the bloom of hope in his chest dies with it.
“are you two close?” he asks, even though he knows the answer will probably hurt him.
“very. he’s my best friend,” you answer fondly. oh. you’re beomgyu’s best friend — you’re beomgyu’s only friend, and tentatively at that. the idea that the deep connection he feels with you is even deeper with someone else, at least in your eyes, makes him feel sick. do you let soobin play with your hair? do you hum along to songs you’ve shown him while he does it? do you smile at him after he’s finished and compliment him on his skills? probably, probably, probably. the ugly feeling that was previously completely foreign to him now takes its usual place in his chest, and it makes his stomach hurt so much that if he could vomit, his metaphorical dinner would be all over the floor.
“oh,” is all he can say.
-
days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months, but every time beomgyu awakens, he finds you smiling up at him. this can’t be good for your bank account — he’s quite expensive to rent, after all — but he’s far too afraid to actually bring it up. what if you realize just how much money you’re sinking into him and want to stop renting him? what will he do if you don’t want him anymore? he feels an incomparable sense of dread at the thought.
he prepares to sit on the couch and watch something, listen to music, or even play a video game with you. you two have gotten into them recently, and he’s discovered that he very much enjoys playing with you, even when you’re yelling at him and demanding that he stop letting you win. he can’t help but grin when he thinks about it. you start playing a song, and you do, indeed, invite him to sit on the couch, but you don’t sit down next to him and start babbling away about your day like you usually would.
“do you think you could do me a favor?” you ask.
“what, do you want me to wash your dishes?” he jokes, and you share a laugh before you say your next words, but all laughter and joy is profusely sucked out of him when you say them.
“no, smartass, but can you braid my hair for me? i’m going over to soobin’s tonight, and i want it out of my way.”
“soobin’s?”
“yeah, it’s been a while since i’ve stayed the night, and he said we’re way past due for it,” you tell him, and the world as beomgyu knows it comes crashing down around him.
“you’re staying the night with him?”
“mhm. he’s right, it’s been too long; but don’t worry, i bought a pass so you can play video games online. there’s even a headset so you can talk to people, if you want. maybe you’ll even make some friends,” you say while playfully waggling your eyebrows. beomgyu’s silence is pensive, to say the very least, and you worry that he’s apprehensive of making a friend that isn't you.
“seriously, you might like it. it’ll be good for you to meet more people, honestly. i’m sure it’s driving you crazy to only have me to talk to,” you jokingly add, but to beomgyu, it’s the worst joke he’s ever heard. no, it does not drive him crazy to only talk to you every day. in fact, even though he’s not conscious during the time you spend away from each other, he thinks, deep down, that he still somehow misses you when you’re apart. and no, he does not think he needs to have anyone but you. you are more than enough for him, so how could you ever think he needs more? again, he is taunted by that same strange and implacable feeling he’s been having ever since he met you, yet he can’t quite put his finger on it, even when he nods and tells you that he’ll try making new friends.
but as he brushes out your hair and you sing along to the words:
"i’m glad i didn’t die before i met you
but now i don’t care
i could go anywhere with you
and i’d probably be happy"
he finally understands what that feeling is. that warm, all-consuming feeling. that feeling of comfort, safety, and unconditional understanding. that feeling of infinite curiosity about the other person. that feeling of wanting to known and be known in a way so profound it physically aches.
yes, as he gathers your hair and ever-so-gently twists it in his hands in preparation for you staying the night with a man you clearly prefer over him, the feeling becomes clear as day. love. what he feels for you is love — an emotion he should never be able to even fathom, yet he does.
and it makes him loathe himself to a degree he never thought he was capable of.
he’s so put off by this sentiment, he almost can’t finish the braid because his hands are shaking so much, but somehow, he finishes, anyway.
“are you done?” you ask as you fiddle with your hair and look back at him.
“mhm,” he replies.
“yay! thank you!” you say giddily.
“you’re welcome,” he mumbles. you’re not stupid, so you notice that something is off about him, but you just assume it’s because he’s nervous about being left alone to make new friends. you feel guilty in a certain sense, but it’ll be good for him to branch out and meet new people, so you tuck the feeling away as best as you can before packing your nightly essentials and getting ready to leave.
“i’ll be back tomorrow morning,” you tell him, and he only nods with his lips pursed, which makes your heart feel sour.
“try not to miss me too much,” you tease, but it doesn’t seem to cheer him up in the slightest.
“have fun,” he replies weakly, and your previously sour heart now kind of aches, but you have to do this for him. you can't always be beside him for everything, right? besides, it's only for the night.
you open the door to leave, but before you go, you turn back to him and he senses hesitation in you. before he can question it, you’re opening your arms, and his eyes widen when he realizes you’re inviting him in for a hug. you almost regret doing it as soon as you open them for fear of making him uncomfortable, but he embraces you before you have time to process such feelings. on beomgyu’s end, he has always been wary of touch for obvious reasons, but he gravitates towards your open arms like he was meant to be in them.
he rests his chin on the top of your head for a moment and you spend an unknown length of time just standing with your arms wrapped around each other.
“i’ll miss you,” you admit, and before you can smack yourself for being so dramatic and sentimental over what will ultimately only be one night, you can swear you feel his grip tightening even more around you.
eventually, you break away and look up at him with a smile. you ruffle his hair and promise to see him later, and he answers you with a nod. then, you're leaving and locking the door behind you.
immediately, beomgyu feels a sense of loss he’s never felt before. after all, to experience loss, you must have something worth losing in the first place, and he has never had anything like that. at least, not until you. so he stands at the door for who knows how long, just like a puppy waiting for his owner to get home.
-
soobin can sense you’re out of it before you even finish crossing through his doorway, and it puts a halt to your typically overdramatic greeting.
“what’s the matter? are you feeling okay?” he questions concernedly as he pulls you in for a hug. you nod before you break apart from him and walk through the threshold.
“y-yeah. it’s just, i don’t know, i guess i just feel bad about leaving beomgyu all by himself,” you tell him as you plop down on his couch.
“the android you’ve been renting?” he asks incredulously. “i’ve been meaning to ask you about that, actually. why’re you renting it so much? i barely even see you anymore. is the sex that good?”
“you know i don’t use androids like that,” you snap in annoyance, partially because he’s calling beomgyu “it”.
“i know, which is why i’m so confused. why rent it in the first place if you’re not getting anything out of it?”
you struggle to answer his question. you promised beomgyu you’d keep his secret, but you trust soobin, and you know he won’t judge him, or worse, report him. besides, it’ll be good to have an unbiased third party weigh in on the situation. with this in mind, you tell him about beomgyu, skipping over some of the more personal details. he’s in disbelief at first and actually thinks you’re just fucking with him, but as you tell him more and more about the time you’ve spent together, his smile falls and his face turns serious.
“so that’s why i feel so guilty about leaving him alone,” you finish with a deep sigh. he’s silent for a few moments before collecting his thoughts.
“god, i can’t believe this is actually happening,” he whispers.
“i know. it’s insane, but it’s true. he’s just so… human. you should've seen the way he looked at me when i told him i was leaving. i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone look so sad before.”
“well, you’re right about him needing to make friends,” he says with a nod, and it validates all of your misgivings about leaving him alone. “but don’t you think you should, i don’t know, think about what all of this means?”
“what do you mean?” you ask, and in that moment, he knows you have no idea about the way beomgyu probably feels about you. he’s not 100% confident in his deductions, but the way you describe how beomgyu acts around you pretty much tells him everything he needs to know.
“i mean, you basically have a completely sentient creature who relies on you for everything. if he’s as human as you say he is, then he can probably feel everything that we do. right now, i’d guess that he feels like you’re all he knows.” and the sneaking sense of guilt that was previously threatening to creep up on you is now completely overwhelming. you’re all he knows. and you left him all alone to fend for himself and make his own friends. yes, he needs to learn how to make connections, but how could you expect him to know how to do that? it took weeks for him to finally seem comfortable around you, so how could he possibly know how to make them on his own? moreover, even though it's nothing to you, you're his entire world. he must feel like you abandoned him.
“i’ve gotta go,” you mumble.
“what?” he asks.
“i–i’ve gotta go home,” you repeat as you hurriedly stand up and hug him goodbye.
“wait! i think you should —”
“love you, bye!” you shout as you book it out of the doorway.
-
when you return home, you open the door to see beomgyu listlessly staring at the television screen. when he hears you, he turns to look at you with watery eyes. he looks so lost in this moment, and all of your suspicions are confirmed.
“beoms, i am so sorry,” you tell him as you rush over and throw your arms around him.
“for what?” he asks with a gulp as he stays in your embrace, shakily wrapping his arms around your waist.
“i’m sorry for leaving you all by yourself. i thought it was just for one night, so it’d be alright, but you don’t have anyone but me right now; and i realize that it’s unfair for me to expect you to meet other people all on your own when you’ve never had to do it before. if you want friends, i’ll help you, okay? i’ll be there with you as you do it,” you tell him, and you feel his body trembling.
“i-i’m sorry. i know it’s not a big deal, but when you’re not with me, i feel so scared. i… i don’t know how to do anything by myself. i’m s-sorry i need you so much,” he whispers, and your heart breaks.
“don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “how about this: i’ll join you online and we can talk to people together. then, when you’re ready, you can start hanging out with my friends in person, too, okay? we can keep going until you don’t need me anymore.” beomgyu outwardly agrees, which seems to put you at ease, but there’s just one issue: he’ll always need you.
-
gaming online is actually really fun, but making friends is hard for someone like beomgyu. he’s quiet and a little awkward at first, but after a few nights and with your help, he finally warms up to the people he games with. he gets so comfortable, in fact, that he’s even able to shit talk with them a little.
“fuckkk, that’s so unfair!” his new friend, kai, wails over the headset.
“it’s not unfair, you just suck,” beomgyu chuckles, and kai whines again. you laugh at their interaction before kai continues.
“how are you so fucking good at this game? you’ve only been playing for a few nights, and you’re already better than me!” he pouts.
“i’m just gifted,” beomgyu boasts.
“very true,” you add, and he beams, but kai’s next words throw him off-kilter.
“whatever. stop asking your girlfriend to argue with me — you two make me sick,” he jokes with his signature maniacal laugh, but the two of you are too stunned to laugh along. you look at each other in sheer embarrassment, and you can see beomgyu’s ears turning bright pink beneath his blond hair. you’re not sure why you feel so mortified, but you do. this is beomgyu, for god’s sake. there’s no earthly way you could ever see him in anything other than a purely platonic way, so why does your heart feel uneasy at the notion? while you’re still too stunned to speak, beomgyu tries to pipe up and respond.
“sh-she’s — we’re not, uh —”
“damn it!” kai yells as his character dies yet again, and any momentum beomgyu previously had to clear up the misunderstanding is killed stone dead in its tracks.
he turns to look at you unsurely, but the awkward moment seems to have passed for you as you laugh at kai’s character’s death. if only he could be as unfazed.
after kai goes offline, you two decide to quit gaming for the night. you turn to beomgyu nervously, and he immediately knows that you’re going to say something serious. he hopes beyond hope that it’s not about what kai said.
“can i ask you something?” and his heart sinks. oh god, you probably caught onto his feelings. he’s not sure he has the confidence to tell the truth, but how could he lie to you?
“y-yes,” he replies, voice a bit unsteady.
“okay, you can say no if you want, but soobin invited us to a get together he’s having pretty soon. it’s not anything too crazy, so there’ll only be a few of us. i think it’ll be a good start for you. maybe you’ll even make some new friends, you know?” he’s silent at your words just out of sheer shock. he’d definitely missed the mark when guessing your intentions.
“it’s okay to say no,” you hurriedly add, “but my friends are really nice, and i’d be with you the entire time. even if you don’t talk to anybody, you can talk to me.”
“okay,” he agrees before he can even really think about it. he guesses he’s just relieved that you still don’t know about his feelings, but part of him aches even still.
“really?” you ask incredulously. “oh my god! i have to tell soobin — he’ll be so excited!” you babble, and his lips curl upwards at how happy you are. he wishes he could always make you happy like this, and it seems that he’d agree to absolutely anything if you were the one asking.
-
work has been especially taxing today, which is nothing new, but you have this insatiable suspicion that something feels… off as you finish up for the day. as you’re about to head out for the night, you wonder what beomgyu will want to do once you get home. maybe he’ll want to play games with kai, or maybe he’ll want to watch a movie with you. maybe he’ll let you cuddle up to him for warmth, which he’s been very willing to do, lately. the unspoken rule that you two will never touch has become blurry for some reason, but you’re pretty touchy with all of your friends, so it only feels like a matter of course to you.
you’re thinking about all of the potential ways tonight could play out when it hits you: you didn’t reserve beomgyu. you spit out a curse and hurriedly take out your phone to book him, but it’s too late. he’s already assigned to someone for the night. fuck.
when you get home, you’re anxious beyond belief. you haven’t spent a night without beomgyu in months, but more importantly, he hasn’t spent a night without you. you try not to think about how scared he will be when he’s powered on in a stranger’s home. you hope he’s able to just switch back to his initial programming, but somehow, you just know it won’t be that easy. you feel sick with worry when you think about how someone so human will have to involuntarily turn his feelings off and pretend to enjoy something he’s being forced to do — with no compensation, no less. he must think you abandoned him. he must think you don’t care about him. how could you forget to reserve him when he needs you so much? fuck how busy you were with work, his wellbeing should have been your first priority.
so you sit and watch the hours tick by. you try to relax. you try to tell yourself it’s only for one night, and he’s been doing it for years, but something just feels wrong, wrong, wrong. you’re about to try to force yourself to go to sleep so the night ends more quickly when you hear a rapid knocking on your door. it’s strange for someone to call on you so late, indeed, but when you look through your peephole, you see none other than the very boy you’ve been worrying about.
“beomgyu?” you say incredulously when you swing open the door. immediately, he embraces you, and you feel hot tears streaming down your neck as he nuzzles his face into it. you hold him as best as you can as you rub circles into his back and try to shush his cries.
“it’s okay, i’m here,” you tell him, and he whines. you try to break away to get a good look at him, but he just pulls you in even closer, as if you’re his only lifeline in this world, and in a way, you are.
after his breathing slows and his sobs die out, he reluctantly parts from you, so you hold his hand and lead him to your couch. his eyes are swollen and bloodshot while his nose is a bright pink, but he never once takes his eyes off of you for fear of letting you out of his sight. in his mind, you can’t leave as long as he can see you.
“are you alright?” you tentatively ask, hand still holding his and soothingly caressing it in an attempt to calm him down. he goes to nod before stopping himself and shaking his head in the negative. your eyes soften even more at the action.
“do you want to talk about what happened?” you try, and he nods before clearing his throat.
“i, um, i woke up and i was at this woman’s house. she… she wanted me to get undressed, but i didn’t want to, so she started doing it for me.” you wince at his words, but he’s not finished yet.
“she kept touching me, and it was so disgusting i just — i just couldn't stand it, so i ran away and came here. i don’t mean to make your life harder, and i won’t ask for you to stay the night with me anymore, but if you could just let me stay here, i promise i’ll learn how to clean or do anything you want. please, just don’t make me —”
“beomgyu, stop it,” you say softly, but firmly. “you are not making my life harder. you can stay here as much as you want and do whatever you want while you’re here. i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean for this to happen. i was just so busy with work, and by the time i realized it, somebody had already booked you. i promise you that it’ll never happen again, okay? so you don't have to be afraid. i’m not leaving you, and i won’t let anyone hurt you, either.”
you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone look so relieved before. it looks as though you just saved his life, and to beomgyu, you essentially did. he holds your hand even tighter, as if you’re the only thing keeping him from falling off the face of this planet.
“wait here, i’ll get you some clothes,” you say gently, but as you go to leave, he holds you even tighter. your eyebrow quirks in a silent question at his actions, and he looks sheepish for a moment before saying his next words.
“c-can we just stay like this for a bit? just for a little while? i’m still scared,” he mumbles, and your heart melts.
“of course. come here,” you beckon, and he falls into your arms and rests his head on your shoulder, breathing your scent in as he tries to imprint this moment into his hardware. you stay like that for a while before you finally convince him to change out of his uncomfortable clothes. he reluctantly lets you go, and his eyes follow you everywhere you walk.
that night, you stay up later than usual to spend more time with him. he stays glued to your side and ensures that he’s always touching you in some way, which is endearing in a way you can’t seem to put into words. when you’re about to head to bed for the night, you swear you hear him whimper, but he lets you go, anyway. as you lay your head down and get comfortable under the covers, you hear a timid knocking on your door. you call him in, and his gaze shyly flickers between you and the floor.
“c-can i stay with you tonight? i won’t bother you, i swear. it’s just — i just still feel weird. y-you can say no! i just thought that —”
“come here,” you softly interrupt, and he doesn’t hesitate to listen. he closes the door behind him and shuffles towards you, stopping uncertainly at the edge of the bed in a silent plea for permission to enter it. you feel a weird, warm feeling in your chest when he does it. you scoot over and pat the open space next to you before he gathers enough courage to slide in. you cover him with your blanket, and he stiffly accepts it. you giggle at his awkwardness and cuddle up to him, placing your arms around his waist before thinking better of it. how could you just invade his personal space when he’s clearly traumatized? you go to remove your arms and scoot away before he firmly locks you in place.
“it’s okay,” he whispers, settling himself into your embrace and mindlessly toying with the ends of your hair.
“are you sure?” you ask.
“i’m sure.”
it isn't long before beomgyu hears your breathing slow down, and eventually he hears you begin to snore. he smiles at the sound. he can't really sleep, but he's perfectly content with watching you rest. he continues to play with your hair, and you nuzzle into his touch every so often. he doesn’t want to repeat the events leading up to tonight, but he would do it all over again — any number of times — with a smile on his face if it meant he got to be with you like this again.
-
the next morning, beomgyu waits for the usual delivery guy from the company to pick him up, but it’s currently way past the usual pickup time. he’s most certainly not complaining, but you don’t seem even remotely fazed by the matter. however, while you’re casually flipping through your streaming catalog literal hours after he’d already be gone, he can’t stop himself from asking:
“um, d-do you know when i’m being picked up?” you pause, and he worries that he may have said the wrong thing before you turn to him.
“do you want to be picked up?” you ask solemnly.
“n-no! of course not. it’s just, you know, i’d usually be gone by now, so i —”
“do you want to stay here? with me, i mean,” you interrupt.
“i… i do,” he replies with a gulp. usually, that’d be all you get from him, but it feels like the perfect opportunity to be honest about his feelings. “i always want to stay with you, but i know i’m expensive, and i don’t want to be a bother.” he looks ashamed as he admits it, but if he had the courage to look in your eyes, he’d note the fondness that lies within them.
“i told you that you’re not a bother to me. i also told you that you could stay here for as long as you want, remember?” and he does, so he nods.
“alright. i meant it when i said it last night, and i mean it now. if you want to be here, you can stay for as long as you’d like. you don't have to worry about your owners anymore, i promise.” and he thinks he’s never seen you as serious as you are now. he wonders what you mean before it dawns on him.
“you… did you buy me?” he asks in disbelief.
“y-yeah. i’m sorry, it sounds so gross when i hear it out loud, but that doesn’t mean that i own you or anything. what i really wanted to buy was your freedom, so you can stay as long as you want, but that also means that you can leave whenever you want, too.”
“i’m so sorry,” he says in a hushed, hurried tone. “i know i'm expensive. i’m really sorry.”
“money is not an object to me,” you dismiss in faux arrogance with a wave of your hand in hopes that it’ll lighten the mood, but beomgyu can’t stop the tears from falling over his waterlines, and you’re afraid your attempt to help him only made him feel more indebted to you. all worry is promptly washed away when you feel him pull you into his arms.
“thank you,” he just barely breathes out. “i don’t know how i’ll ever pay you back, but i’ll try, i swear.”
“you don’t have to do anything for me, beoms. i should’ve done it a lot sooner, but i’m just a little slow, i guess,” you muse, and he chuckles softly into your neck.
-
sleeping with beomgyu should’ve only happened once, but every night when you say you’re heading to bed, he looks at you with puppy eyes and you find yourself inviting him to come along. each time, he looks so excited that if he had a tail, it would most certainly be wagging. he obediently follows you to your room and settles into the empty space next to you before holding you in his arms as you drift off. he’s even taken to humming the tunes of songs he likes when you struggle to settle down, and his baritone voice lulls you to sleep like a charm every time. he spends his time by just looking at you and trying to reconcile with his new reality. this is real. he gets to spend however many nights he wants next to you, as per your own words. even if you didn’t mean them, he plans to take them seriously. he is perfectly content with spending the rest of his life just sleeping with you, looking at you, being with you.
-
soobin’s get together is tonight, and you look different than usual. your typical look is very casual, which makes sense because you’re only ever at home when you’re with him, but you are now primped and ready to be seen, and it makes him anxious because you look even more lovable. he knows these people are your friends, so they must’ve seen you dressed up before, but that only makes him all the more uneasy; they know a side of you he is only now seeing, and it makes that same old ugly feeling he's grown so accustomed to sprout in his chest.
when you arrive at soobin’s place, the first thing you do when soobin swings open the door is jump in his arms like you didn’t just see him a week ago. he spins you around with a dimpled grin that’s so sincere, beomgyu feels emotionally decimated by it. you both giggle as you break apart, and the jealousy beomgyu feels brewing within feels unpacifiable.
“is this beomgyu?” soobin asks, grin still very much apparent.
“yes! you’re gonna love him,” you answer giddily.
“it’s nice to meet you,” soobin says warmly while stretching out his hand, which beomgyu awkwardly shakes while he tries to force his lips to curl upwards in what he prays is a believable smile.
“nice to meet you,” he mumbles.
“everyone’s already here, but you’re late as always,” soobin playfully chastises, and you pout in response.
everyone greets you when you walk in, mostly by hugging you and lightheartedly scolding you for not coming out anymore. they’re very clearly bantering with you, but each reproach feels like a knife to beomgyu’s heart. he’s the reason you haven’t seen them in so long.
clueless to it all, you introduce him as your friend to everyone, which only makes him feel worse, somehow. he is just one friend out of many, meanwhile you’re his entire world. you’re far too caught up in the joy of seeing some of your favorite people after so long to notice his dismay, however.
you lead him to soobin’s couch to have a seat with you and one of your friends, taehyun maybe, offers him a drink, to which he awkwardly declines. you quickly follow up with something to the effect of “he isn’t much of a drinker,” and beomgyu nods in affirmation. you try your best to include beomgyu in conversation, but they’re all talking about people and places he doesn't know. all he knows is you, and the world you two built together seems smaller and smaller with every new topic of conversation.
he notices that soobin seems to be eyeing him somewhat strangely, though he tries his best to play it off. he could just attribute it to surface level curiosity, but his intuition tells him it’s much deeper than that. is soobin sizing up his competition? maybe so, but there’s not much to see. beomgyu is handsome, and he knows it, but soobin knows a side of you beomgyu has only ever heard stories about. you’ve told him about your friends and the goings on between you and your coworkers, but it pales in comparison to actually meeting them. he makes an internal note to ask even more questions than he usually does the next time you’re telling him about your day. until then, he sits as close to you as humanly possible and clings onto your arm, which is so second nature to you, you don't even notice that he’s doing it.
soobin, who is usually not the inquisitive type, can’t help but question the dynamic between you and beomgyu. at first, the lingering glances and intimate gestures were innocuous enough to be written off as mere friendliness, but when you whisper something in beomgyu’s ear and he flushes a bright pink, soobin knows he can’t ignore it any longer. he especially can’t ignore it when you turn away from beomgyu and he raises a hand to the ear you just whispered into as if he’s reliving the moment. well, time to test his theory.
soobin slides into the open cushion next to you and begins excitedly chattering about how pretty you look tonight, and he even takes your braided hair into his hands and twirls it between his fingers.
“your hair looks pretty,” he muses.
“beomgyu did it, actually,” you grin, and soobin glances over to said boy, who is currently glaring daggers at him. the look in beomgyu’s eyes is so intense, he almost wants to back off, but he has to get to the bottom of this.
“did he? you know, it’s been a while since you stayed over. wanna have a sleepover tonight? you have some clothes here from last time, and we can cuddle, i know you like that,” he says as innocently as he possibly can.
before you can even reply, beomgyu is slamming his hands on the coffee table. you turn to face him in surprise, and the look on his face is the angriest you’ve ever seen him. his eyes are dark and his nostrils are flared as he heavily breathes. he’s never been angry at all in front of you, actually, so to say you’re taken aback is the understatement of the century.
“beoms? what’s wrong?” you ask concernedly, completely turning away from soobin. your voice is enough to somewhat placate him, but before he can fully calm down, soobin is saying his next words.
“i’m sure he’s fine. beomgyu, you can find your way home tonight on your own, can’t you?” beomgyu is positively seething at this. before you can question him again, he’s gripping your hand so tightly it’s like it’s the only thing keeping him from drowning, so you excuse the both of you and drag him to the bathroom for some privacy.
“are you alright?” you ask, frantically scanning his figure for some sort of sign of pain or discomfort.
“i-i’m fine, i just, uh, i don’t feel good,” he says flatly.
“what’s wrong? is it too much? do we need to go home?” he’s so flustered, he barely registers that you’re calling your house “home”, but he still notices it in spite of everything, and it’s like a balm on his aching heart.
“y-yeah, can we go home? please?” he pleads, and you hurriedly nod.
“of course, just let me say bye to everyone before we leave, okay?” and he wants to say no, but he’s as weak as ever in front of you, so he relents.
that doesn’t stop him from gripping your hand, though, as you say goodbye to everyone. you go to give soobin your usual hug, but beomgyu pulls you back to him even more tightly. you write it off as him not feeling well and just wanting to leave as soon as possible, to which you oblige, and before you know it, you two are scurrying out of soobin’s place like there’s something chasing you.
as you’re driving home, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket, but it isn’t until you’re walking through your doorway that you check it.
soobie: we need to talk. call me as soon as you get home
you’re worried beyond belief at his serious tone, so you tell beomgyu that you’ve got to make a call before ducking into your bedroom. you don’t shut the door behind you, because why would you?
you quickly call soobin and the line connects after just one ring.
“what’s wrong?” you ask anxiously, and soobin just sighs, which makes you all the more anxious.
“we have to talk about beomgyu.”
“beomgyu? what about him? is something wrong?” you question.
“yeah, i mean, maybe. this might sound crazy, but i think — i know — he likes you.” you’re stunned silly for just a moment before bursting into laughter.
“likes me? what the hell are you talking about?” you dismiss, and you sense his agitation even through the phone.
“i’m serious. i had a feeling before, but tonight just confirmed it. he likes you.” you’re silent for a moment, just trying to process his words, but once your mind somewhat clears, you can’t help but deny, deny, deny.
“you’re wrong. it’s not like that at all. i’m just the first person who’s ever treated him nicely, and i —”
“you’re not listening,” he cuts in irritatedly. “he looked like he wanted to skin me alive tonight. how else do you explain that?”
“soobie,” you sigh. “you’ve got it all wrong. maybe you’re right and maybe he was feeling insecure, but that’s probably because i’m the only person he knows. he most likely just felt like you were stealing my attention away.”
“you’re always so dense about these things, you know?” he groans. “okay, look, i’m not sure how they came about, but i do know that he has feelings for you. maybe it started out as dependence, i’m not sure, but it’s definitely much more than that now.”
“that’s impossible,” you snort, actually feeling a bit impatient now. how could he possibly think that your relationship with beomgyu was anything other than platonic?
“why? because he’s a robot?” oh, that shuts you up. “just think about it. if he were a human, would you still be saying the same thing? like i said before, if he’s as human as you say he is, he can feel the same way we do, and he’s definitely capable of feeling love, too.” you are, again, stunned into silence. suddenly, as if there was a fog that covered your brain before, things that you never really considered become clear to you. the soft touches, the gentleness. sleeping in the same bed and waiting for you to get home. wanting you — needing you — around all the time. the way he plays with your hair. the way he’s so interested in everything you have to say. the clinginess, the dependence. it all makes so much more sense to you.
“i —” you begin, but you just so happen to glance up and see beomgyu right outside of your doorway… looking absolutely devastated.
“i’ve gotta go,” you tell soobin as you hang up, not even bothering to say your usual goodbye.
“beoms, did you hear us?” you ask tentatively, and he flinches a little bit before looking down at the floor and nodding.
you’re unsure of how to navigate this situation from here, but while you’re still trying to figure it out, beomgyu speaks.
“i-i’m so sorry,” he says hurriedly. “i understand if you don’t want me anymore.”
“w-what? no, i —”
“i’m just really sorry,” he says, looking as ashamed as a person ever could. “i know it’s wrong, i know it’s disgusting, but i —”
“beomgyu.”
“but i can’t help it. i wish i could, but i just can’t; and i understand if you want to return me or whatever, but if you could just —”
“beomgyu, stop it,” you interrupt firmly, no room for argument. he stares at you with defeated eyes, and you feel your heart break in two. “i am not disgusted, and i don’t want to return you.” his eyebrows furrow as if he doesn't quite understand, so you continue.
“your feelings are not disgusting to me, don’t ever say that again, okay? please? it makes me sad,” you plead, and he hesitantly nods. “i think it’s normal, actually. you don’t really know anybody else other than me, so of course you’re confused.”
“confused?” he asks incredulously, eyes snapping up to meet yours.
“confused,” you nod. “it'll change once you meet more people, i swear.” you try to smile reassuringly, but suddenly, you see tears welling up in beomgyu’s eyes.
“beoms?” you carefully try.
“i don't need to meet more people. i just need you,” he chokes out. “don't tell me i'm confused because i'm not. i-i'd rather you just say you don't want to be with me than tell me that.” your heart clenches at his words, but he continues.
“i just want to be with you, no one else,” he tells you desperately. “i can understand if you don't feel the same way, but i can't stand to hear you say i don’t love you, because i do. i really, really do.” and as if you're dissociating, your mind is bombarded by times where he's shown you this exact sentiment. again, you go back to every intimate moment you two have ever shared. it was easy to just chalk it up to his lack of experience, but when he's telling you that's not the case so earnestly, is it truly possible to still believe it’s nothing? after a while, you decide that it most certainly is not.
the question is: do you feel the same way? you try to put a name to the feelings you have when you’re with him. the trust you have, the understanding. the desire to share everything you know and like with him, no matter how mundane it may seem to others; and consequently, the endearment towards him when you see how eager he is to listen. more than that, the intimacy between you two. how you like waking up to him smiling down at you, and how when something happens, he’s the first one you want to tell, good or bad. how when you listen to new music, you feel excited at the prospect of sharing it with him.
you realize you want to know more about him, the happy things and even the sad things. why he is the way that he is, why he thinks the way he thinks. the peace you feel when he’s running his fingers through your hair and holding you close when you watch the same film for the dozenth time. you try to picture a world where somebody else rented him. a world in which somebody else got to see him as soon as they wake up or as soon as they get home from a particularly grueling day at work, and you finally understand that you wouldn’t like that at all. but why? you’ve only ever thought of him as a friend, right? so why does it matter to you?
your eyes focus on beomgyu again, and you notice how utterly defeated he looks. his heart is on full display for you — and you alone — as tears stream freely down his pretty, doll-like face. are these tears just for you? you think so. is it safe to trust that these feelings he has for you are real? you’re not sure, but you want to. still, there’s something stopping you.
“i think… i think i feel the same way,” you admit, and his previously downtrodden appearance immediately lights up with hope. “but we shouldn’t.” and the words are like lead in your mouth.
“why not?” he asks, clearly distressed. you just gave him an inch, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take a mile. he never in a million years would have thought that you’d ever reciprocate his feelings, so he can’t just let them go so easily.
“i just… it’s just not something that i can —”
“is it because i’m an android?” he questions, voice teeming with self-loathing.
“n-no! i mean, we’re just so different,” you tell him, trying to skirt around the topic as best as you possibly can, but he won’t have it.
“whatever it is, i’ll change it. please? i can do anything,” he pleads.
“it’s not like that. i want to, but we can't. i-i'll get older. i won't look the same — i won't be the same,” and it’s embarrassing as hell to admit it out loud, but you mean it. beomgyu’s urgent gaze softens, and he inches closer to you before he’s standing before you. he reaches out to gently cup your face and tenderly pushes your hair behind your ears.
“and what about me?”
“what about you?” you scoff, but you don't pull away from his touch, though your eyes do dart away. “you’ll still be you, and i’ll be old and —”
“what about when my parts start creaking? what about when i don’t remember things like i’m supposed to? you’ll still love me then, right?” he asks, but he already knows, and your eyes snap back to his.
“th-that’s different. you can get repairs. i can’t —”
“then i won’t. you’ll get old and gray and i’ll get rundown and out-of-date. i don’t care what happens, as long as i’m with you.” you’re silent in the wake of his heavy words, so he quickly continues.
“you told me that when you love somebody, you’d do anything to be with them. you said you always find a way, and i want to find a way to be with you.” your heart simultaneously warms and aches at this sentiment.
you consider what it would be like to be with him. things would be difficult, yes, but not impossible. maybe you’ll come to regret it someday, but you don’t want to think about that right now. you feel like the luckiest girl in the world when you think of the fact that somebody so beautiful, inside and out, wants to be with you. you don't think you’ve done anything particularly special for him, but he still wants and accepts you for everything that you are and ever will be.
“okay,” you say shakily, and you finally recognize that his hands are still very much cupping your face, fingers lovingly rubbing against your cheeks. he smiles in pure relief at your answer, but he makes no move to break away his hold on you.
you notice how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips, and you decide you'll have mercy on him as you lean up to him and press a chaste kiss on his pouty lips before parting. he’s visibly red at the action, and you grin at how flustered he looks. on beomgyu’s end, he feels another bloom of excitement and swell of hope threatening to overcome him. when he looks at the playfulness in your eyes, he smiles even wider.
“i love you,” he whispers affectionately.
you pause before you tell him:
“i love you, too, beoms.”
-
that night, beomgyu is even clingier than usual. he sticks like gum to your side. when you head to sleep, he eagerly nestles in your bed and holds his arms wide open. you follow his lead and settle into his warm embrace. he sings you one of his favorite songs you’ve ever shown him. the last words you hear before you sink into sleep are:
“to die by your side
is such a heavenly way to die
to die by your side, well
the pleasure, the privilege is mine”
notes pt. 2: sfw work ends here!
you and beomgyu have been “together” for a few weeks now, so the relationship is still very new. surprisingly or not, things seem more or less the same. you guess you never realized just how intimate you two have always been until you put a label on things. the only tangible differences are that instead of just a mere hug when he greets you, he plants kisses all over your face before finding his ways to your lips. and when you’re watching movies or even just talking, he’ll steal a kiss or two. and when you head to bed, you know you can expect him to catch your lips like a man starved before you sleep. things get heated, sometimes, but they never lead to anything besides labored breaths and promises to calm himself down. you take his hesitancy as him wanting to take it slow and treasure your first time together, and you realize he still may be traumatized from the years he spent as a sexbot.
you have apologized to him for telling soobin his secret. you let him know your reasoning for telling him, and he accepted your apology quite graciously. honestly? he was never mad, and he tells you that very clearly, but you still feel somewhat guilty even when he says he understands. your guilt is only absolved when he says he’s thankful you told soobin because things may have never changed without his wise input. he says that he’s grateful to soobin for being a voice of reason in the face of your emotional density. you blushed when he told you this, and apologized for being so slow on the uptake, but he just assured you that he wouldn’t have you any other way, which made you love him even more, somehow.
you’re now about to go to soobin’s again for another get together with your friends. second time’s the charm, you cheekily told him when you brought it up, and he blushed in response. when you two walk through the doorway, everyone cheers. you greet everyone as usual, and beomgyu tries his best to keep his searing jealousy at bay, but his anxiety starts clawing at him as soobin seats himself next to you and asks you how you are.
you giggle and tell him you’re doing well, and he responds by updating you on his tumultuous work life. beomgyu immediately wonders why you haven’t told soobin about your new relationship. are you embarrassed to be seen with him? it’s not like he doesn’t understand, what with him technically being made out of wires and machinery. of course a human like you wouldn’t want to be seen with a metal man like him. you could have the entire world in your hands if you wanted, so what’s the point of playing pretend with a fake like him? maybe, if he were you, he’d be embarrassed, too. he likes to think that maybe you aren’t like that, but at the end of the day, how could you not be? he’s nothing more than a robot masquerading as the real thing.
his anxiety worsens the more in depth your conversation with soobin gets. you try to include him by briefly giving him context about the stories soobin tells, but he can’t stop himself from worrying. again, he feels like soobin is stealing you away from him, and his mood sours.
your other friends try to talk to him, too, but he’s very obviously in a bad mood as he watches you two continue to laugh together. when you finally do turn to beomgyu, you immediately notice how awful he looks.
“beoms? are you alright?” you ask gingerly, but beomgyu’s discomfort is not at all placated even at the term of endearment.
“‘m fine,” he mumbles, and you’re genuinely in shock at his change of attitude. soobin looks very concerned, but he excuses himself to get a drink so you two can work it out, though he has an inkling of an idea of what’s triggering beomgyu.
“what’s wrong with you?” you ask concernedly, but he shakes his head sulkily.
“do you wanna go home?” you offer, and he immediately nods. you look torn for a second, but when you see how sad he looks, you know you can’t deny him.
you say your goodbyes to your friends and apologize for leaving early, but everyone says they understand. soobin makes you promise to host the next get together, though, to which you happily agree.
the ride home is mostly silent, but you look over to beomgyu in concern every so often. you grab his hand and squeeze it in a way you hope is comforting, but he doesn’t look any better at all.
when you enter your house, you immediately head to your bedroom, and he follows you in silence. you sit on the bed and pat the space next to you.
“beoms, what’s the matter?” you ask pleadingly as you grab his hands, and his heart, which was previously aching, is (a little) soothed by your concern.
“i-it’s nothing,” he answers, but you can tell that he’s lying because of the way he refuses to make eye contact with you.
“baby, i can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong,” you say. you’re right, and he knows you’re right, but you’re already doing him the favor of a lifetime just by deigning to be with him. how could he dare to ask for more? he’s ashamed at the thought, but you look so sincere, and he knows in his metaphorical heart that he needs to be able to communicate with you if you two are going to have any shot at a lasting relationship.
“i-i’m just j-jealous,” he sputters.
“oh, baby, why?” you ask.
“because i’m not like you,” he admits after a pause. “i already feel like i’m not good enough for you, so seeing you with someone who actually is makes me feel awful.”
“who? soobin?” and you’re absolutely petrified when he sheepishly nods.
“honey, it’s not like that at all,” you tell him. “we’re just friends, i promise.”
“but it would be so much easier to be with him. you wouldn’t have to be ashamed about telling everyone you’re with an android,” he argues.
“beomgyu, i am not ashamed of you. i just wasn’t sure if you felt comfortable with me telling everyone. if you want me to tell them, i’ll happily do it. you’re so good, how could i ever be embarrassed of you?” his eyes soften.
“do you mean it?” he asks, and you nod.
“do i not show it enough? how much i love you, i mean.” he furiously shakes his head no, but you know it’s a lie. beomgyu himself will admit that he needs more validation than most people, and it’s going to take him a while to ever get over it because of his own issues. that doesn’t mean you can’t try to help him, though, so you brush his cheek with your hands before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.
“does this make you feel better?” you ask after you pull away, but he still looks somewhat depressed, so you pull him in again before pressing your lips against his. this time, you swipe your tongue on his pout, which makes him gasp. you tease your tongue against his and electricity thrums between you two when you do it. he reciprocates your enthusiasm immediately, and before long, you’re both sucking and teasing each other until you’re out of breath.
you pull away again and rest your forehead against his.
“better?” you question.
“a little,” he says. “m-maybe a little more?” you grin at his coquettishness, and you go in for another kiss. your tongues tangle, but you don’t stop there. your mouth travels, peppering kisses down his jaw to his sensitive neck. he shivers at the contact when you swipe your tongue over his unmarred skin before lightly sucking. he lets out a broken moan when you do it, and it reverberates throughout your entire body and straight to your core.
“better?” you ask again.
“m-more,” he pants.
“anything you want, baby,” you tease before your lips hungrily capture his. one of your hands snakes its way up his shirt, and he gasps when you roll his hardened nipple between your fingers. beomgyu is more sensitive than most people, as is the nature of his model, so every little touch drives him crazy.
you seem to have noticed this, so when your other hand palms his hardened length through his sweatpants and he almost screams, you have to bite back a giggle.
“d-don’t tease,” he begs, and you’d do anything for beomgyu, really, but not this time.
you palm him even more harshly and his breath catches in his throat.
“more?” you ask, and he fervently nods. you oblige, sliding your hand under his waistband and teasing the sensitive skin around his length. your fingers brush against it every so often, and he involuntarily bucks every time you do.
“c-can i touch you?” he practically implores.
“of course, my love,” you tell him as you remove your devious hands and pull your top off before unclipping your bra.
his mouth waters when he sees you, and you can see him gulp almost comically as his big hands meet your breasts. he copies your movement from earlier, rolling your sensitive buds between his very clearly experienced fingers. you let out a contented sigh at the action, but you won’t let this be all about you, so your hand sneaks it way back down his pants. this time, you grab his girthy cock and give it a harsh tug. his actions stutter, and you smirk devilishly at how fucked out he is when the fun part hasn’t even begun.
you pull at his waistband, and he eagerly tugs his pants and boxers off as soon you do it. he even goes as far as to tear his t-shirt off over his head before he pulls your half-naked body flush against his, falling onto the bed as he desperately kisses you for everything that you’re worth. eventually, he situates himself on top of you, rutting his thick, long cock onto your still clothed thigh. you didn’t really get a chance to get a good look at him before, but you’re able to look down at him now, and you realize his dick is gorgeous. just like every other part of him. it stands tall, blushing profusely at the tip and practically weeping precum. it’s a bit hooked, too, no doubt to elicit the most pleasure out of his clients. your pussy is drenched just thinking about how it’ll feel when it’s inside of you.
he almost rips your bottoms off of you and his mouth waters even more at the sight of your pussy, all slick and glistening in anticipation for what’s to come.
“so gorgeous,” he whispers as he prepares to lay himself between your legs, but you hook them around his waist before he can do so. tonight will be all about him, you’ve decided, so you tug him closer and put one of his pretty nipples in your mouth, swirling your tongue on it and occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin. your other hand continues to tweak the other one before you alternate between the two, causing him to let out a low, guttural groan.
eventually, he goes in for another kiss, all tongue and teeth and saliva, and you take one of your hands and harshly clench around the base of his throbbing cock.
“is this what you needed, beoms?” you tease, and he nods pathetically as you tug again, harder this time, and let your hands stroke all the way up to his reddened tip. your thumb glides over his slit, and he’s seeing stars.
“i don’t know why you’re so jealous of someone else, my love. you’re so perfect,” you praise, and his ears get even redder, somehow, in spite of the situation you’re both in.
“i — nghh — i don’t like when you’re with him,” he pants, in spite of everything you're doing to him. “only want you with me.”
“oh, baby, you have me,” you coo. “always.” and with that, you begin to feverishly jerk him off with one hand while the other returns to his nipple. his hips buck with every movement, and his eyes are screwed shut. you can tell he’s about to come before you completely take your hands off of him.
“n-no! w-why?” he asks with a crack in his voice, watery eyes shooting open at the sudden action.
“don’t you wanna come in my pussy, instead? it’s warmer and wetter than my hand,” you ask with faux innocence with a tilt of your head, and his previously aggrieved demeanor morphs back into pure lust.
“that’s what i thought,” you giggle as you grab his length and rub it against your slickness. he groans at the feeling, but you don’t immediately take him in, opting to instead roll your hips up, just barely letting his flared head catch against your entrance.
“baby, please,” he whines, and with a smirk, you finally wrap your legs around his waist and line him up with your entrance. you just barely take the tip in, easing it into your pussy, before you force him out again. he gasps raggedly at how tight you are, and he’s wound up so much, he feels like he’s on the brink of exploding. he’s about to take matters into his own hands before you guide him back inside of you, and he feels your walls struggling to accommodate him.
“s-so tight! h-how are you so tight?” he hisses, eyes reddened and face strained, but you’re far too busy with the euphoric feeling of him finally inside of you to reply. he eases in inch after throbbing inch, and it is a snug fit, indeed. he almost wonders if he’ll even fit, but though the stretch burns you, the pleasure is too great to ignore. finally, your walls slightly relax, and he’s able to completely sheath himself in you. you both moan as his tip pulsates against your cervix, and he considerately gives you time to adjust, walls contracting wildly around him, before he attempts to pull out and really begin.
“stop,” you command before he can do so, and his eyes fill with worry at your words.
“w-what’s wrong?” he stutters.
“oh, nothing,” you say between pants. “i just want to see how long you can last.”
“w-what do you —”
and you interrupt him with a kiss. he ravenously reciprocates it, and he can’t help but unconsciously thrust his hips, tapping deliciously on the deepest parts of you, but you prevent him from ever fully pulling out. you tangle one of your hands through his hair and grip it — not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him groan into your mouth.
“c-can i move?” he pleads, but you shake your head no.
“why?” he whimpers, but you just smirk as you kiss him again and bite his bottom lip.
he doesn’t know how long you two stay like that, but it’s far too long for his liking. he feels his dick swell, and you still refuse to let him move, but you teasingly scrape your fingers against his balls and it’s all he can do not to come.
“p-please let me move, it hurts,” he cries, tears now flowing from his eyes. for once, sex is all about beomgyu and what feels good to him. he could cry just from the sentiment alone, but his current tears are the direct result of how you’re teasing him.
“and where does it hurt, baby? use your words, i know you can.”
“h-hurts, my c-cock hurts,” he sputters out.
“and would pounding my pussy make you feel better?” you goad, and he whines even louder at the imagery.
“y-yes,” he sobs, and you smile as you say your next words.
“such a good boy. you can move.” and that’s all it takes, really, before he’s pulling out despite your cunt’s attempts to suck him back in, and ramming himself back inside of you again and again.
the curve of his cock hits places previously untouched, and your walls spasm around him at the sensation.
“does it feel good, beoms?”
“s-so good,” he mumbles as drool pools off of his tongue and out of his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “so warm and t-tight.” you clench against your will at his filthy words, and it makes a strangled cry leave his throat.
“pussy so good, baby. your pussy is the b-best,” he babbles, and your lips meet his again before your mouth travels down, sucking a blooming hickey onto his neck. he trembles at the pain that comes with the pleasure, but somehow, he still has the presence of mind to roll his skilled fingers against your clit. just a few touches, and you already feel your orgasm approaching. he can feel every spasm of yours, and it makes his dick twitch inside of you as he wildly fucks you open.
he’s drilling into you so hard, you have to dig your fingernails into the skin of his back to keep yourself grounded. with each thrust, you feel more and more like you’re about to burst.
“gonna come!” you whine.
“do it, baby. c-come all over my cock,” he pleads.
“come inside? want it so bad,” you mewl.
“of course, my angel. a-anything for you,” he tells you as he tenderly brushes your hair out of your sweaty face, and he hammers himself into you at an inhuman pace as you feel the pressure in you crescendo into a searing hot orgasm. you clench even tighter around him while you come, gripping him so forcefully he can barely pull out, so his thrusts become sloppy and uncoordinated before he rams himself into you one last time and paints your inner walls with his cum.
you two stay like that for a while, just panting and basking in the feeling of closeness you feel. he presses a kiss on your forehead as he relaxes his arms and lays on top of you. you giggle at the intimacy and he finds himself sharing your laughter, your joy.
“you’re so beautiful,” he says between breaths, nuzzling his face into your neck and sighing. “i love you.”
“i love you, too, beoms,” you tell him, and you do love him. unconditionally.
notes pt. 3: :,) :,) :,)))))) i'm very sorry if this was disappointing but i hope it was worth it! i would love to hear your thoughts or answer any questions you may have about this fic/universe. feedback is needed to a disgusting degree bc i need validation to survive #sorry
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HOW TO CHANNEL SOMEONE
{or channel memories from your dr/people/higher self}
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2b96f85f0c26a8d38fc7604df5ec0ad6/bae948c6821f13a8-25/s540x810/4a5242319d7452eab81fb0c85fe37223cefb4602.jpg)
Channeling is connecting with someone’s energy or consciousness, allowing you to receive memories, messages, or answers.
There's a lot of ways to channel someone but I'm going to go through couple of them;
Methods: meditation and visualization/automatic writing/channeling through dreams/using a necklace or a pendulum
{a little tip}
Relax and trust the process. Often, memories and answers will come to you naturally when you're not actively trying to force them. Pay attention to sudden thoughts, feelings, or deja vu moments—they might be glimpses from your DR. Be patient.
1. MEDITATION AND VISUALIZATION
Sit or lie down in a quiet space.
Close your eyes and visualize any place you want.
Picture the person from your DR you want to connect with. Imagine their presence vividly, including their voice, appearance, and energy. Or if you want to channel your higher self you can simple ask.
In your mind or outloud, ask them to share a memory or whatever you want.
2. AUTOMATIC WRITING
Grab a pen and notebook or you can use your phone/anything you can write on.
Quiet your mind and think of the person you want to channel.
Set the intention: “I invite [Name] to share their memories with me/answer my questions”
Begin writing whatever comes to mind, without overthinking.
3. CHANNELING THROUGH DREAMS
Before bed, set the intention to meet the person in your dreams and ask for whatever you want.
Visualize the person clearly as you fall asleep, focusing on their energy and presence. Or ask a question for specific person/higher self.
{tip; set the intention to remember the dream vividly or keep something you can write it in as soon as you wake up}
4. CHANNELING WITH NECKLACE OR PENDULUM
{remember: necklace must have some kind of pendant on it}
Cleanse the tool: Run it under water, pass it through incense smoke, or visualize white light surrounding it {OPTIONAL}
Sit in a quiet space and relax. Set your intention: Hold the necklace or pendulum and say, “I call [Name] to connect with me”
Determined the movements example: back and fourth=yes. Side to side=no. Circle= maybe.
{you can write it on a paper and put it under it as your channel}
Begin channeling, and if you want to make sure it your person ask questions they will know to answer to.
You can even put a keyboard under it and have it move towards the letters as it makes a sentence.
At the end you can say goodbye.
LITTLE ADD: HOW I PERSONALLY CHANNEL AND CONNECT TO PEOPLE FROM MY DR EVERYDAY
{tips; you can make sure the pendant on your necklace is heavy enough/be in a room with no wind/ put your elbows on a hard surface as you do this to keep your hand steady/trust that connection will guide your hand.}
SOME AFFIRMATIONS YOU CAN SAY:
SAFETY
1. My boundaries are strong, and only safe connections are allowed in my space.
2. The universe (God or whoever you believe in) supports and protects me at all times.
3. Only energies that align with my highest good can reach me.
4. I am grounded, centered, and completely safe.
CHANNELLING
1. I easily connect with [Name] from and receive.
2. I am open to communication with [Name], and it flows effortlessly.
3. I am fully aligned with [Name] and those within it.
4. Memories from my DR flow to me naturally and effortlessly.
Focus on the people you want; their energy, your relationship, scenarios... and basically relax and set the intention or ask them to be present in your cr by sending your messages/signs or whatever you want. I keep this connection open and they are welcomed every day to send me messages.
A little warning:
Don't let this take over your shifting journey; remember shifting and experiencing it first hand is much better then just having memories or talking to people from your dr. Yes this can be great motivation but don't let it take over.
This is not to scare you but to warn you and remind you of what can you really have:)
<3
#reality shifting#shifters#channelling#permashifting#shifting community#scripting#shifting advice#shifting motivation#shifting reality#shiftblr#shifting blog#shifting realities#shifting consciousness#shifting diary#shifting to hogwarts#shifting antis dni#shifting mindset#shifting activities#shifting affirmations
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pairing: spencer reid x reader
set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)
word count: 4.7k
notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)
You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room.
You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off.
So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.
You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not.
You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night.
That is, until you opened the door.
“Oh,” you said involuntarily.
"There's only one bed,” Spencer said.
“Sure looks that way.”
"At least it's a queen?"
There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time.
"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began.
"I mean, I guess I don't really–"
"–although, JJ did say we got the last–"
"–mind as long as you–"
You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement.
"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."
"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”
It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be.
"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.
"Right."
The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.
"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window.
"No, you're not doing that."
"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.
"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.”
Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.”
God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team.
Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it.
Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep.
Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still.
“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."
You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke.
The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind.
“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.
"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.
You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers.
Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right.
From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that.
He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again.
Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you.
Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together.
Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell.
“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”
You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal.
Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot.
“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation.
You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.”
He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him.
“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.
“Sorry,” you managed.
“For what?”
“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.”
“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.”
Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further.
“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.”
“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!”
“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.”
“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.”
“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.”
“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him.
“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat.
“You just said ass.”
“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.”
“Right, of course. It’s my fault.”
“I knew you’d agree.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed.
Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting.
Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed.
You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep.
But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself.
Eventually, exhaustion won out.
You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what?
You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black.
Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?!
“Hey, you okay?”
“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.”
“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well.
“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.”
You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand.
He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated.
“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way.
“You were on my pillow, by the way.”
“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him.
“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.”
“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again.
“That wasn’t me complaining about it.”
“Oh,” was all you could think to say back.
It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest.
“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious.
“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing.
“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?”
“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.”
He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer.
“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.
“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.”
“Don’t profile me.”
“I’m not. I just know you.”
You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.”
“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.”
“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.”
“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.”
You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip.
“And you stuttered when I brought it up.”
“I told you to stop profiling me.”
This time, he just hummed in response.
“And so what if I stuttered?”
“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.”
Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings from him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list.
“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–”
“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed.
“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.”
“That all makes total sense.”
“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved.
“Now tell me the rest of it.”
“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well.
You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and–
“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream.
“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent.
It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing.
“Yes.”
You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word.
Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it.
“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.
You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry.
He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–”
“It is.”
“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.”
“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.”
Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back.
Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you.
“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked.
“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.”
“I was not–”
“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.
“Oh, this was such a mistake.”
He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“
“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.”
He laughed, and your cheeks warmed.
“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.”
You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.”
“Are you certain of that?”
“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?”
“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.”
Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.”
He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.”
You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips. “It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.”
“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you.
After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed.
For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside.
You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again.
“Okay, was it just me, or–”
“That was crazy,” you breathed.
“Crazy,” he agreed.
“Spence?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?”
Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?”
“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless.
“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.”
“Well, you kissed me.”
“I did.”
“How were you not nervous?” you breathed.
“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.”
You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.”
“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.”
“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.”
He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist.
“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it.
“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.”
“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.”
“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer.
You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages.
“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.”
“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.”
“You’re such an ass.”
A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up.
You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you.
Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker.
You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left.
You text back: okay?
Spencer: My crush asked me out last night.
You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face.
You: what did u say?
Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first.
You: i think u should say yes, obviously.
Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.
You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded.
You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt
You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success.
Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night
You: i promise i won’t try to jump you
Spencer: Oh
Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here
You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much
Spencer: That’s rich coming from you
You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you.
You: whatever. wear something sexy ;)
You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh.
“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask.
Shit.
“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat.
Unbelievable.
You: you’re unhinged :*
Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you?
You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep
Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful
You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty
Spencer: Stop flirting with me
You: bc you’re too delicate??
Spencer: Yes
You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace.
You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that
You heard a page turn.
You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth.
This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed.
#so they have flip phones but i didnt want to write everything in shorthand so theyre just really fast at it. go with it#spencer texts with perfect grammar bc of course he does#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine#my fics
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ordinary girl | charles leclerc
synopsis: in which you feel like you don't fit in
a/n: based on this request!
my masterlist
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The quiet hum of Charles’ car filled the silence as he drove through the streets of Monaco.
The glittering city stretched out before your eyes, a scene so luxurious it almost felt out of this world.
You sat in the passenger seat. staring out at the yachts and high-end boutiques, feeling smaller and smaller with each passing second.
Charles noticed your silence, his hand instinctively reaching over to rest on your thigh.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft and gentle.
You hesitated, biting your lip as you tried to find the right words to put his mind at ease.
“Yeah, I’m fine” you lied, but even to your ears, it sounded completely unconvincing.
He frowned, pulling over into a quiet overlook before turning to face you.
“You’re not fine. What’s going on?” he pressed, his voice still gentle.
You sighed, the weight of your thoughts suddenly too heavy to be kept bottled any longer.
“I just, I sometimes feel like I don’t belong in your world, Charles. Look at all of this” you said, pointing towards the city around you. “This glitz, the glamor, the luxury. I’m just a normal girl with a normal life, this is not my world. I don’t fit in here” you explained.
His expression grew softer, a flicker of concern and tenderness crossing his face.
“Is that what you think? That you don’t belong with me?” he asked, his voice soft.
You looked down at your hands and nodded, the vulnerability of admitting it out loud making your chest tighten again.
“I see the people you’re surrounded by, celebrities who all have their life figured out. And when you look at me, I feel like I’m always falling short because I’m not up to the standard” you said, playing with your hands.
Charles was quiet for a moment, his hand never leaving your thigh. The, he shifted in his seat, turning fully towards you.
“Do you know why I fell in love with you?” he asked, his tone surprisingly calm.
You shook your head, not trusting your voice enough to speak.
“It’s exactly because you’re you. You’re kind, you’re thoughtful, but most importantly, you’re real. You don’t try to be someone you’re not, and that’s what makes you stand out in my eyes. I don’t need the glamour or the luxury, I have enough of that. What I need is someone who grounds me, someone who makes me feel like Charles, not Charles Leclerc. That someone is you, love” he said firmly.
Your eyes filled with tears, his words striking a very deep chord deep inside of your heart.
“But what if you wake up someday and realize I’m not enough?” you whispered.
“You are enough. More than enough. And if you ever feel like you’re not, I’ll spend every minute of every single day reminding you just how much you mean to me” he replied without hesitation.
He reached up, cupping your face in his hands as his green eyes locked with yours.
“I don’t care if you think you’re too normal or anything like that. To me, you’re extraordinary. You don’t need to ‘fit’ into my world, love. You are my world” he said.
The tears spilled over as you leaned into his soft touch, a small yet relieved laugh escaping your lips.
“You’re really good at this comforting thing, you know” you said, the atmosphere lighter already.
Charles grinned, brushing a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.
“Only because I mean every word” he replied.
And as he pulled you into a soft, reassuring kiss, the doubts that had weighed you down began to lift, replaced the warmth of his unwavering love.
Because, at the end of the day, it was just you and him.
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#imagines#oneshots#fanfiction#one shot#formula 1#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles lecrelc#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc drabble#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc comfort#charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 sf#cl16 imagine#cl16 pics#charles leclerc
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◇ SYNOPSIS ¡ — in which a girl is born, only to live in conplete and utter tragedy.
◇ WORD COUNT ¡ — 1.4K
◇ SERIES ¡ — BATFAM X FONTAINE! NEGLECTED READER
The sounds of a baby's wails plague the halls of the Wayne Manor, Richard Grayson— the adopted son of Bruce Wayne, who watches on his father's misery. His mother, well, adopted mother, has just passed away from childbirth. Her child (Name) is being held by their most trusted butler, Alfred.
Bruce holds his wife's hands as if it was his only lifeline, his screams of anguish mirror the infant’s cry for their mother. The night is filled with horrible memories, forever to be remembered.
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(Name) walks the halls quickly and quietly, afraid of the monsters that may take her if she is not careful. She opens the door to Jason's room. He was recently adopted by Bruce and was a delight to be with. Jason was her only refuge for warmth in this cold manor, although she was not oblivious to their… nightly activities.
She smiles at her brother, who just came from a mission, holding a book in her hand. “Hey bub! Do you want me to read you that one tonight?” Jason beams at you. A cute little sister to see him after he gets home? YES.
Jason lifts you to his bed, setting you near the wall to make sure you don't fall. He picks the book up and starts reading. After lulling you to sleep, Jason kisses your forehead, wishing you sweet dreams.
Jason is dead. That is what you can think about. Your father held a funeral for him to honour his memory. You hold onto his stuff. Sometimes, you sneak in his bed and sleep in it. The remnants of him were preserved in that room. You wished he could have seen you sing the songs dedicated to him on stage.
Tim came into the picture. He saw you as a weakness in the family. You could easily be kidnapped, an innocent civilian never meant to be here. But he cared for you in his own ways, how could he not? You were a bit younger than him, a cute little thing with doe eyes and chubby cheeks.
He maintained his distance, making sure not to get attached. He never really knew how to handle things like family after all. Barbara came to the manor sometimes, although you both never really had much interaction. Damian came into the picture. He was cute but a demonic thing nonetheless.
Cassandra, Stephanie, and Duke came to the family, with them being Orphan, Spoiler, and Signal. You were pretty jealous of Cass. She always seemed so… loved. You truly wanted to bond with them all.
They always spend time with each other, and heck, Dick sometimes came to the manor to spend time with Damian! He had time for everyone except you. Jason? He's avoiding you like the plague! You don't really understand why though, did you do something you weren't aware of? Tim, the boy barely interacted with you!
Damian? Nope. Barbara? Too busy for you, apparently. Cassandra? She's a bit scary, but she's fine. Stephanie? Also too busy! Your own biological father (who should definitely just be called sperm donor), ignored the fuck out of you.
You went to the beach to let out some stream. After all, can tears be seen and shed underwater? You swim to the far sea, the waves soon taking you deep. You try to reach the surface, but you can't. You breathe and— wait, breathe??
You open your eyes to unfamiliar waters, you see land and quickly swim towards it. Coughing up some water, you see two men, a flying snowball, and a very pretty lady. You feel dizzy, your eyesight is blurry, and… you lose consciousness!
You wake up, lain in soft silk sheets that definitely beat yours. You look around to see some people surrounding you. “Hello, dear. I am Furina de Fontaine, the Hydro Archon, God of—” She gets cut off by the snowball, “Just get to the point already!” she huffs in the air, kicking in frustration.
“Fine, fine!— Man in blue, My Iudex, Neuvillette. Man in black? The Duke, Wriothesly. Blondie, Lumine. Flying pet, Paimon.”
“I am not a pet!—”
Ms. Lumine— you believe, covers her mouth and takes her away with Mr. Wriothesly behind them. “Right, back to the topic, do you know this person, little one?” Mr. Iudex points to a painting, and you froze.
The painting looks hauntingly like the woman plastered on the walls of the manor— “Mom…” they both look shocked at your response, nodding at each other. “I am your grandmother, my dear. He is your grandfather. Do you think you could tell us what happened?”
“I… She's dead. She passed away after giving birth to me.” You look away. They're sure to hate you, too. Furina embraces you tightly, tears roll down her cheeks. The loss of a child is never light. Neuvillette pats her back, and you hear a light drizzle outside. It quickly becomes a turbulent storm, as Iudex weeps as well. The three of you embrace each other, unwilling to let go.
You eventually figured out how to get between the two worlds with your mother's diary. It was kept by Iudex, and not an inch of dust has reached its pages. You read about her adventures, how she ended up in Gotham, and how she decided to leave Fontaine.
“Your mother was a cheerful person. You certainly took after her the most. ”Neuvillettes's eyes softened at you. “My dear, do you truly have to return to that place? You could simply stay here—” Furina looks at you, you were an adventurer, she never really had the ability to keep you down. After all, she knew what that felt like.
“Nana, I like to explore, a trait from my mother. I have two vast worlds that allow me to see magical places. Who am I to refuse such sights?” You stuff your mouth with cake, it was your favourite flavor.
“The abyssal corrosion is taking me slowly, I believe I have enough time to explore more. That is my wish, nana.”
You smile at them, their expressions are unreadable. Neuvillette clenches his teacup, nodding at you. “If that is what you desire, then so be it my dear.” Tea time soon ends, and you return to Gotham.
You lay in your bed. ‘One last chance, then I'll stay in Fontaine forever.�� You think your performance was coming up soon. If they didn't come, then that is it.
The next few weeks were certainly nerve-wracking. On the day of the show, you get up on the stage, and do your absolute best. You sang your heart out like never before, people shed tears during your performance. They were nowhere to be seen. You should have expected this.
“Great job, (name)!” A stage designer came up to you, handing you some gifts from the crowd. You adorned a smile, pearls on your neck lit up at the lights. There are so many praises from people you don't know, yet not a single family came.
You return to the manor, quickly writing a letter to Alfred. You knew it couldn't be helped. You make your way to the beach, Alfred came home right when you left.
The letter sat on his desk, opening it shook him.
Dear Alfred,
It has truly been a delight to be with you. It is hard to simply leave you, so I leave you this letter. I hope that you may find your peace in this manor, thank you for all these years.
Truly yours,
– (Name) de Fontaine.
Alfred quickly went to the batcave, calling everyone on patrol. He accessed every camera nearby, trying to find you. Were you trying to kill yourself?
“Alfred?” Dick spoke first. The rest listened. “Ms. (Name) might be trying to kill herself, I'll try to find her.
Bruce is shook. What parent wouldn't be after hearing that. He doesn't know where to start looking, so he and Damian search the places your mother would go to.
Alfred finally finds you heading to the beach. You loved that place. “She's at xx-road, heading to xx-beach.” They all rush to the coordinates, hoping they weren't too late—
There you were, in a white dress, you could get sick in that! “Goodbye.” You start to turn to foam. They rush towards you, but they are too late. Your shawl floats to Bruce. He grabs it, trying to find a semblance of you. They'll find you soon, just wait for a bit.
You return to Fontaine, going to Palais Mermonia, munching on some pasta Furina made, as they both work.
────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────
NOTE : Whew, so that was chapter 1! I'm loving the gradient hehehehe. (If I learn more I will become unstoppable)
#batfam x you#batman#yandere damian wayne#read the tags#genshin x reader#genshin impact sagau#genshin impact#x reader#batfam#yandere batfam#Fontainian!Neglected Reader ๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒𝕬 𝕱𝖆𝖊'𝖘 𝖂𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌٠࣪⭑꩜.ᐟ#batfam x reader#furina#neuvillette#writers block be hitting me with a frying pan these days#this fic was an excuse to write the last scene#yes i wanna turn to foam#i wanna be like the little mermaid with the sad ending#ooh spoilers??#foreshadowing hehehe#i want to leave them all wailing as they all reach for us#while we're turning to foam as they grab at anything#that's the life#everything is hidden in the tags#its canon that name calls bruce sperm donor
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You know what's sick as hell about the design of the Briar Senates??? It's that their design mirrors the weapon of the Draconias 😭✨
I know they're getting flak rn bcs they feel like "boomers who's against any progress because they value toxic tradition" but i don't really think they're like... entirely evil lol or the root of every bad thing that happened in Malleus'/Lilia's life (though im side eyeing them as one of the perpetrators still lol)
Tbh, removing them would also cause more harm (just some social issues inside the fae society tbh) than good imo, (I know many ppl say this bcs they think removing the Senates would make it possible for the peace between human and faes, but the thing is, the Senates aren't the only group that thinks this way, almost the entirety of Briar Valley does lol so forcibly removing them now would only come off as "Malleus forcing "human ideals" on the faes just because he has spent 4 years with the humans"(plus is the understanding between humans and faes truly achieved if you try to silence one group(even if that group is kinda disagreeable with anything human related lol), plus realistically the faes would trust their fellow faes first rather than some humans,
so for me, Briar Senates doesn't give off the vibe of toxic old people who drags others down in their toxic practices (while that can be an accurate description i feel like it generalizes too much about their behaviour), rather than that, Briar Senates feels more like thorns, like thorns that surrounds Briar Valley, they're not exactly harmful unless you go against them, but ultimately they're still protection for Briar Valley.
Which makes it fitting that their design has a similarity with the Draconia's weapon, they're the thorns that protects the Draconias, even if it means sheltering them.
And, tbh, if the Senates other job is to ensure Draconias lives, they're kinda doing a "decent job"??? If we can assume through Maleficia's (and Malleus' case), since we didnt hear about her leaving the Senate's side, she managed to survive for so long, unlike Meleanor😭 Also could explain why they're so enraged when Lilia arrived with the news that Meleanor died and why they hated the weak bcs what would weakness could protect JJDSJD Kinda wish their hatred against Lilia wasnt that he was a weak bat fae, but rather they doubled down on the fact he failed protecting Meleanor, imagine if Gen. Lilia wasnt as great in magic as the fae nobles were, yet he still managed to earn a position beside the Princess, all that hard work only to fail at the most crucial time, it wouldve make sense in the Senates' side to say, "Meleanor shouldnt have appointed him" (because "he's weak from the start")
oh additionally, this is just my assumption, bcs I felt like the way the Senates recoiled when Lilia hatched the egg was kinda... random?? so this is my made up reason lol Remember, the Senates were adamant that Maleficia should only be the one to hatch the egg because she's a Draconia, but Lilia did it and he's not a Draconia, What if because Lilia hatched the egg, it also affected the development of Malleus?? Like maybe for instance, it affected Malleus' lifespan, maybe he still lives more than one thousand years but he won't live for another thousand years like a pure Draconia because he's been hatched by Lilia as opposed to who they wanted it to be, which is Maleficia, OF COURSE Lilia hatching the egg is heaps better than Malleus dying before being born, but this is just my auto thoughts regarding the random hate reaction the Senates did when Lilia hatched Malleus lol
Interestingly, the placement of the stone of Draconia against the thorns (of the Senates) can also be hinted at their relationship with them??? In Meleanor's case, her stone is on top of the thorns, which may indicate that she's not under the Senate's commands or that its just telling she just lived distantly from the Senates, most importantly her stone is bigger than the thorns which may tell the fact that the Senates worships her because she's powerful and greater than them, and she's not someone who can be trapped/ordered around within the Senates. But, tragically, in Malleus' case, his stone is under the thorns, like its telling that he's under the Senates protection at all cost and his stone is little compared to Meleanor's because he's still young.
I also have a theory that the Senates are part of Briar Valley's land, like its been canonically said that they're the dead faes of Briarland, which makes think that their death is similar to the death of Conall from Maleficent 2, when Conall was buried, his body literally morphed to the land, which makes me think this is how the Senates used to be buried, when they die, they become one with the land, that's why you can't just remove them, when they are literally the Lands of Briar Valley,,,, get it lol
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Though this is making me think that if this is the case then Maleficia's city,,, if the Senate's presence are the strongest there bcs that's where they're nearly buried, does that mean around Black Scale Castle is just lowkey a graveyard.... Is that why Halloween is special for Briar Valley bcs they have close ties/respect for the dead and Halloween is essentially about honoring the dead 😭✨
Off topic, but maybe the thorns part of the Draconia's staff may also tell about their age. Notice how Meleanor's staff has 3 twists which may tell that she's atleast 300~ years old, (if each twists signifies a century), while Malleus' staff only has one twist on its thorns which is accurate considering he's only 178 years old (one century).
If this is true, I'm kinda curious about Maleficia's staff... does that mean hers will be convered in thorns (she needs at least 7 twists (7 centuries~ and more) there on her staff 😭✨)
#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twistedwonderland#malleus draconia#disney twst#twst malleus#lilia vanrouge#lian notes#twst malleus draconia#twst maleanor#twst maleficia#twst diasomnia#twst headcanons#twst theory#maleficia draconia#meleanor draconia#maleanor draconia#twst meleanor#briar valley senates#twst theories#twst wonderland#i love you bitter old people (senates) they deserve the worst <3#(by worst i mean them experiencing the good side of humanity and reflect about how awful their#generalizing on them have been lol)#overthinking about briar valley politics again at 1am#even though i knowww full well TWST would never expand on the Senates' morality deeply like this lol
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Redemption ♡ Suguru Niragi ♡ Part One
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Suguru Niragi x Fem!Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Part Two: Here Author's Note: This is the first time I've ever written a fanfiction, and I'm sure it'll seem a little messy. I'm not sure where I'm going with this, or if I'll add more parts. I suppose it really depends on if people like it or not. I'm very new to Tumblr too, so please bear with me. I know this is pretty long and drawn out. I'm sorry! I do not own any characters/images!
Genre: Angst
Summary: Y/N has heard the warnings about Niragi since she first arrived at the Beach. After an awkward encounter, Niragi and Y/N are paired together for a game. Despite Niragi's cold and ruthless exterior, his demeanor shifts as he attempts to ensure their survival.
Word Count: 2235
Warnings: Blood, distress, death, language, OOC Niragi
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
There was just something about you. Something that led his glances towards you to last a few moments too long. Maybe it was the way you hugged yourself nervously, despite having been a member of the Beach for several months. You were always wary of your surroundings, but never rude. Never off-putting. You had a warm smile and a gentle demeanor. How could such a delicate thing survive so long in this twisted world?
He'd had his way with plenty of innocent women. Many weak women, who only made him feel that much stronger. Yet, he only needed one night with them before his interest was gone. He couldn't bring himself to approach you. Not you. Any other woman, he could destroy them. He could defile them without a second thought. A sinking feeling weighed his chest when he thought of doing something so cruel to you. You were untouchable.
Yet, there he was, roaming the poolside, gun slung over his shoulder. Drunken partygoers danced and shouted around him. Even surrounded by chaos, his eyes glued to you. You, and your classy black bikini which was covered by a cardigan. You and your arms folded as you smiled and carried a conversation with Kuina.
You had heard the warnings about Niragi. You had had been made very aware of his cruel treatment towards nearly everyone one the Beach. Many called him unhinged: A psychopath. You made note to stay out of his way.
"Don't look now, but he's staring at you again." Kuina mumbled, her eyes locked on something behind you. You turn, and your eyes meet Niragi's. He looks away instantly, pretending to have not been peering in your direction to begin with. Kuina grabs your shoulders, forcing you to look back at her. "I said don't look now!" She giggles, shaking her head.
"Sorry!" You laugh as Kuina releases you. "Let him stare. I don't have any problem with it. Honestly, I have yet to have a single interaction with him." You shrug. It's true. Niragi tends discretely exit any room you enter or turn away when he sees you looking.
"Trust me, that's a good thing." Kuina sighs, almost pitying your naivety. "Although, he has seemed a little tamer as of late. I wonder what that bastard is planning.”
"Maybe he's not planning anything." You turn your head to look over your shoulder. Niragi is pacing the other end of the pool, his back turned to you. He looks over his shoulder for a moment, his eyes catching yours once again. For a split second, it almost seems that he's flustered. He scowls, turning to face away from you again. "He just seems so tense."
It's true, that Niragi's behavior has seemed to mellow since you joined the Beach. In front of you, he is on his best behavior. He himself can't understand why he changed, or why he suddenly feels sick when he looks at you. He would rather die than admit that part of him cares about how you perceive him.
Chishiya, seemingly out of nowhere, joins your conversation. You turn back, greeting the blonde. He returns the sentiment, before requesting that Kuina join him for something. You groan in disapproval. Kuina is the only real friend you've managed to make in your time here. With a quick apology, Kuina and Chishiya excuse themselves. You are left entirely alone to watch the rest of the Beach party.
From time to time, you glance at Niragi, who seems to be making rounds, pacing back and forth between both ends of the pool. His gaze stumbles to you on occasion, but you don't think much of it. Out of boredom and stupid confidence, you sigh and begin to approach him. It could help to make a new friend. Especially a friend that is a militant. You ignore all the warnings you've been given. An impulsive decision that would change your life.
"Hi." You say plainly, finally making your way to Niragi. For the first time, you can see his features up close. His face is decorated with silver piercings. His eyes are sharp, like a predator latched onto the sight of its' prey. His hair seems well maintained, shiny and brushed back out of his face. "I don't think we've met. I'm Y/N." You say, timidly, your confidence wavering slightly.
"...What do you want?" Niragi asks gruffly, continuing to walk. You walk beside him, having to pick up your pace to keep up. Niragi's steps are quick. Much quicker than a man on a leisurely walk. You wonder if he's trying to lose you in the crowd.
"Oh! I don't exactly want anything." You explain sheepishly, looking up at his expression. His face seems cold and unbothered. "I just hadn't introduced myself yet, and we always seem to end up in similar places. You're Niragi, right?"
"Yeah." He grumbles. This is not ideal. Can you see right through him? Can you see how nervous he is? He can feel the sweat beads rolling down his forehead.
"I was thinking-" You began, but he suddenly stopped walking, looking down at you. He glared at you, as if you were the most despicable person he had ever known.
"Don't think. I'm not your friend." His fingers shook as he gripped his gun so tightly that his knuckles were white. He couldn't stand being around you. Not out of hatred, but out of fear. He had never been afraid of someone the way he feared you. You made his heart race, and his stomach drop. You were the one person he didn't want to hurt, and he couldn't even give a good reason as to why.
Without another word, he walked away, leaving you speechless by the pool. Now you understood what others meant when they called him a douchebag. He was incredibly rude. You huffed, feeling defeated, before accepting this failure and returning to your room for the night.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
What were the odds that you would be put into a group with Niragi for your next game? You were piled into a cramped little car of six people including yourself, speeding down the road to a game arena. You were seated in the back, with two other girls who were making out viciously. Your discomfort was clear on your face. Niragi was seated in the passenger side, his gun resting between his legs. It brought you some comfort, knowing Niragi would be in the same game. He was definitely strong, and willing to do anything it took to win. You chose to see this as a good thing.
You pull up to a large office building. It's several stories tall, stretching up into the deep dark sky. You take a deep breath. The air is crisp and chilly. The dread of not knowing what was to come consumed your mind. You follow the rest of your group into the building, where there is a table of phones. Four have already been taken. This means, including your group, there are ten people in the game. Your steps echo in the empty building as you take a device, holding the black screen up to your face.
One minute and forty-seven seconds until registration closes. If your driver had gone any slower, you may not have made it to the game. Your visa expires today. The idea that death is always so close by sends a shiver down your spine.
With a chime, registration was closed. Your legs quivered as you mentally prepared yourself to hear the details of the game. A feminine robotic voice came on over the speakers. You hadn't noticed, but you were holding your breath.
Game: Tower of Echoes - Five of Clubs
Rules: You will each be paired with another player. Work with your partner to overcome obstacles. Each floor will present a unique challenge, combining physical skill, memory, and mental acuity. Incorrect answers will result in a penalty of deducted time. Once you have passed a floor, you may not return. In this game, your partner's fate is intertwined with your own. Should they die, so will you.
Clear Condition: Reach the rooftop of the tower before the time runs out
"Your partners will be assigned to your screen now." The voice says finally. You look down at your device. A slight relief washes over you when you see a grainy image of Niragi. Lifting your head to search for him, you're already met him his chest in front of you. He seems agitated as he speaks:
"You'd better not slow me down."
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
Blood. The sound of blood splatter and screams echoed through the building. It was nauseating. Your head spun as you trembled, looking down at your leg. Your thigh was slashed open on level nine. There was no way of knowing how much blood you had lost now. Still, Niragi urged you to continue. With only nine minutes remaining, you wondered how many levels were still left to go. You'd lost count at level fourteen. It had already been two hours and fifty-one minutes. How much longer could you continue.
"Fuck, I said let's go!" Niragi growled, beckoning you to follow him. He had blood on him too. His forehead was busted, his shirt was torn, and there were cuts littering his arms. Where did he find the drive to keep going? You let out a shaky breath, desperately trying to follow, but you were simply so much slower. "For fuck's sake!" He growls, rushing towards you.
You feel his arms swoop beneath you as he lifts you up. He carries you as if you weigh nothing, hurrying to our next challenge. You feel guilt surging through your heart, and if you had enough blood left, you would've been blushing. You could hear his heart beating through his chest, and his labored breaths as the sound of his steps echoed up the steps. Finally, he set you down, facing another test. Nobody is on this floor, but you two.
There are three doors before you. A red one, a blue one, and a green one. Each has a different clue. On the red door are the words "The green door leads to certain death". On the blue, "The red door is the path to freedom". Finally, the green door says "This door is safe. Ignore the red door's warning".
"Shit." Niragi groans. This hardly felt like a clubs game now. Not with all the puzzles and obstacles. There are three minutes remaining on the clock. Time seems to be flying by too quickly. Niragi looks expectantly at you, as if you had some sort of answer. "Are you gonna be useful during this game or what?!"
"I... I don't know!" You begin to hyperventilate. Your life might be ending within the next five minutes. The pressure is overwhelming as the room spins. Niragi grabs your shoulders. He's far from the shy, rude, nervous character you had attempted to introduce yourself to several days prior. He looks at you with urgency, a look you'd never seen on him before.
"I need you to think." He says. His tone is demanding, yet smooth. "You're a smart girl, yeah? I've heard about what you can do in those diamond games. Now think. We're not going to die here."
You look back at the doors, your breathing slowing as you try to focus. There is one minute remaining. You have to be quick. Both the red and green door cast doubt at one another. The blue door points towards the red door, but is this a diversion? It feels as though this is a game of pure luck. As the seconds count down, you decide to take a chance.
"The blue door." You shout, your voice hoarse from all the strain and dehydration. Niragi looks at you skeptically, but nods, throwing your arm over his shoulder as he guides you to the blue door. "Dear god please let this be right." You whisper as Niragi clutches the handle of the door.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
A wave of fresh cold air hits your face as the door swings open. You're on the roof. You made it to the roof. You won. You turn to see another pair finally making it up the stairs to the last floor, but it's too late. The bright red lasers you have feared since the beginning come raining down into their skulls. Crimson blood splashes onto the walls as their bodies slump over, cascading down the steps.
You turn to look at Niragi, who's already looking down at you. How lucky it was, that you were paired with him. You felt safe, his strength holding you from putting too much pressure on your wounded leg. His expression screams of his protective feelings towards you. He seems relieved to be alive.
"Niragi." He says, his voice gruff as a smirk plays on his face. Maybe he can allow himself this simple pleasure of getting to know you. Of being in your presence.
"What?" You smile. Despite the horror of all you've experienced today, your gentle smile still sends flurries of butterflies to Niragi's stomach.
"Niragi. Nice to meet you, Y/N." He says, finally replying to the introduction you had tried to make not too long ago. Your name rolls off his tongue like a melody, as if it was meant to be there from the start.
#suguru niragi#alice in borderland#alice in borderland x reader#suguru niragi x reader#aib#niragi x reader#niragi suguru#alice in borderland x y/n#aib x reader#aib niragi#alice in borderlands niragi#niragi suguru x reader#fem reader#reader insert#x reader#reader x character#reader x aib
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Headcanons: your acquaintance with their and their trust in you🫶🏻
Featuring: Kang Sae Byeok x Reader(f), Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Se Mi x Reader(f), Kim Young Mi x Reader(f)
Warning: There are deviations from the plot + let's imagine that your managed to escape with the girls from the game.
🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/31c0b857007ff8b5576bf7cec8ece886/f566193fe537b8c0-35/s540x810/74407bb5c29ecc457c59206c840ef77e8e1eae4a.jpg)
Kang Sae Byeok🖤
You met her at the first game. Under not very good circumstances. When you ran to the finish line, praying that this stupid doll wouldn't catch anything bad from you, you stumbled, right at the very last moment, when the Doll finished her song and was already starting to turn around. You thought it was all, you're going to die. But here you are grabbed by the neck of a green jacket.
– Don't move. - You hear a strict tone that you can't disobey, the Doll didn't notice any movements and you could continue. Your savior gently pushed you to hurry up: - Hurry up, you don't have much time. - You turned around and saw a beautiful girl with an unusual appearance. Her face didn't reflect any emotions, you nodded and continued to run.
Thanks to this girl, you won, you wanted to thank her, so in the common room you immediately approached her bed, where she was resting.
- What do you want? - she asked coldly.
- I wanted to thank you for saving me. If it weren't for you, I would have died in this terrible game. - you said a little embarrassed, but a new acquaintance did not react to your gratitude.
- Next time just be careful, no one had to help you, it's such a one-time action. - you're even offended by her words, but you understood that she was right, because in this game, and in life, everyone is for himself. Before you go, you decided to ask: - Can I know your name?
- Kang Sae Byeok. - briefly answered the one to which you smiled.
- And me Y/N, you have a very beautiful name. - you said, and then went to your place.
Who would have thought that after this moment you would be with her all the time. Honestly, you didn't do it on purpose, but maybe it's fate? In every game you followed her without realizing why you did it at all. The girl was annoyed at first and she tried to ignore you, but she couldn't, because you tried to ask: "How are you?", "How are you feeling?". Sae Byeok hasn't been asked about it for a long time, maybe that's why she softened to you.
She hadn’t confidence in you for a long time, she got used to people constantly deceiving her, but getting to know you more, she understood that you were not such a person, you are an honest and kind girl. And she gave up. She herself began to gradually open up to you and also protect in games and from the terrible men that surrounded you here.
When you came out of these games, you started walking together often. It was an ordinary walk around the city, nothing more. At first, Sae Byeok didn't really want to, but you found a way to persuade her.
Soon you started dating and moved into a common apartment, the girl finally began to feel needed and loved, you were even able to take her brother to your place, and for her it was the most important act from you (her heart then finally melted).
You understand that it is still difficult for her to entrust you with her personal secrets, but you both go through this stage so that you have a final trusting relationship.
Cho Hyun Ju💋
You met this beautiful woman at the second game. You couldn't find a team, but when you saw that many people also rejected it, you decided to try to call her to your team.
- Sorry.. Wouldn't you like to join my team? - you spoke quietly, but she heard you and was a little embarrassed by the offer, but gladly agreed.
That's how it all started, you won the second game, after which you were able to get to know her better. You've seen that she's extremely careful with people and doesn't say much about herself. But you were able to find out that she is transgender and saves money to finish the operations and go to live in Thailand. Her goals and determination inspired you a lot.
- You will definitely succeed! And you are a very beautiful girl! - you said it very sincerely, she felt it and gently smiled at you.
Hyun Ju decided that she would protect you, since you were the first person who saw something good in her. Acquaintance and stories about yourself went gradually, none of you wanted to rush things, and especially with confidence. After all, you understood that it's difficult for a girl because of the past.
When you left the game, you didn't stop communicating with Hyun Ju, on the contrary, you got even closer. After a while you confessed your love to her, she cried for a long time, but not from grief! From happiness that she found a loved one in such a bad place. She was able to fully open up to you. You went through a difficult path of transition to a girl with her and then went to Thailand together, bought a small house and were able to live happily.
Se Mi💗
You also met this girl at the second game, she came up to you and offered to unite, which you immediately agreed to. Of course, both of you weren't happy that the other members of the team were guys who behaved like complete idiots. Se Mi didn't trust them at all, so she tried to stay away from them and asked you to do exactly the same.
- Why did you want to unite with me? - you asked her when you were both alone.
- I felt that you wouldn't lie to me and that you were a good person. - she replied with a smile, then continued. - But don't trust these guys, I feel that they can do something bad, better stay close to me.
That's what you did. You didn't pay attention to the guys' jokes, and were always next to the girl. You wondered why she was able to trust you so easily and let you get so close, but most likely Se Mi had a good flair. After all, she said that you are the person who will not betray her, and that's what happened. You didn't betray her and were able to get out of the game together, while continuing good communication.
- Don't make any plans tomorrow. - she said.
- Why is that? - you asked with incomprehension, to which she smiled.
- You'll go on a date with me tomorrow. - after that, she quickly kissed you on the lips, you couldn't answer anything, you were just very embarrassed. It seems that this is the beginning of something very good in your life.
Kim Young Mi💕
You also met her during the second game, because she also decided to approach you and offer to unite.
- I'll be happy to join your team. - you answered with a smile.
- Thank you very much! - she said a little embarrassed.
You got closer quickly. After all, Young Mi quickly got attached to you, especially after your support during the game, when she started to get nervous.
- Come on, when we get out of here, shall we go to the movies? - sitting on her bed, you suggested.
- Do you think we can get out?
- Of course! Don't worry, you're safe next to me! - your words made her very embarrassed, next to you she felt like a child, although you are both the same age.
- I believe you. And I agree to go to the movies with you. - the girl replied with a smile.
That's how it all happened. You didn't betray her and were able to get out of this damn game. After that, a couple of days later you went to the cinema to see a romantic movie, you both considered it a date, but you won't tell each other about it yet.
🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
#cho hyun ju x reader#cho hyunju#hyunju x reader#hyun ju squid game#player 120#player 095#kim youngmi#young mi squid game#kang sae byeok#sae byeok#sae byeok x reader#player 067#semi x reader#semi squid game#squid games x reader#squid game headcanons#hedcanon#player 380
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a safe place to rest - duke
(part 3 of the harmless series)
Although he hears about the baby, Duke doesn't get to meet her for a few days.
He does meet someone else though: Danny.
"You need anything before I go?"
He doesn't want to leave Danny alone in the Hatch. Not out of mistrust or anything, but because he's sure that the moment he looks away, Danny's going to disappear again. It took so long just to convince him to take a moment to breathe, to rest and recover from whatever he's gone through.
There's a frantic sort of energy surrounding Danny that has his aura all messed up, which is the only reason Duke decided against letting anyone else know that he found Danny.
He got the basic rundown from the night shift, but he hadn't had time to look more into it before Danny was crashing into him during his day patrol, eyes wide and wild and looking like his world had just ended.
"You," Danny had gasped, "You're with—Batman? Please, take these." And he shoved a bag against Duke's chest.
He had to react fast to grab it, and then grab Danny when he all but collapsed against him.
Now, he sits on top of the spare bed Duke set up in the Hatch, pale and tired and quietly devastated. "I'm fine," he insists. "You don't need to do anything for me."
Duke frowns. "Uh, I absolutely do, you think I'm just gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Come on, man, that's not how I do things."
"You don't owe me anything."
"Obviously not. It's not about owing things. I'm doing this because you need help and I can give it."
"I can take care of myself," Danny says firmly, and Duke holds back a sigh. Yeah, this guy really is Batman's kid. Horrible self-care habits and all.
"You don't gotta, though. You get that, right? You can take one day off and just rely on me to take care of you until you're back on your feet."
"No."
Duke tries to shove his emotions down, to stay neutral and calm. This is a guy who came crashing into their lives, shoving a baby into Damian's arms, and then vanishing. This is a guy who's gone through way too much on his own. Of course he's not going to trust anyone. Duke knows well how heavy everything becomes when it feels like the world's against him. He can give Danny grace.
"Okay. Just so you know, I'm asking to be polite. I'm still going to grab some extra clothes for you, and a homemade meal, so you just stay here and get some sleep. We'll talk more when I get back from delivering all this to Batman." He lifts the bag Danny gave to him for emphasis, then pins the guy down with a hard stare. "You better be here when I get back, or I am going to have no one to show baby pictures to."
"…You're gonna check on Ellie?"
The clear concern and desperation in Danny's expression make him soften. "Yeah, man. I'll check on her and let you know how she's doing. That's why you gotta be here when I get back. Got it?"
Danny bites his lip, then nods slowly. "Yeah. Got it. Thank you."
"Get some sleep."
Duke pulls the door shut, setting the alarm system to quietly alert him if anyone goes in or out while he's not in the Hatch. There's a first aid kit on the table and some water bottles as well, but it's not going to be enough to really help Danny start to recover. Duke takes a moment to curse his past self for not better stocking his crash room for emergency visitors, but in his defense, he isn't in the habit of bringing anyone back to the Hatch, not even other Bats, when the Batcave is more suited for handling lots of people.
Well, it's something to work on in the future.
He doesn't get more than a few steps away when he hears the door opening behind him and looks back to see Danny poking his head out.
"Hey, before you go…"
"Yeah? What's up?"
"Can you maybe not tell anyone I'm here? I'm assuming you know who I am, since you know Ellie."
"Yeah, your Batman's first lost kid, right? Trust me, I've heard of you."
Danny winces. "Great. Figures. I just really need to not deal with all of them right now, so if you could keep all this quiet…"
Duke looks him over, takes in the paleness of his skin, how worryingly thin he is, the dark half-moons stamped under his eyes, and promptly decides then and there that the rest of the world is going to have to go through him to even think about going near Danny. It's a complicated situation he's in and if he needs time to prepare himself for meeting everyone else, who Duke knows from personal experience can be a lot, then Duke is going to make sure he has all the time he needs.
"You got it man. They won't hear a thing about this from me. I'll lock everyone else out of here, too, so you can rest easy. They ain't getting in here to bother you while I'm still around."
"Thank you," Danny says again, sagging against the doorframe. "I'm… I really need to sleep."
"Go crash," Duke says softly. "I can take care of things until you wake up."
Bruce is the only person in the Batcave when Duke arrives. He's bent over the Batcomputer, head in his hands, when Duke parks his motorcycle and heads for the stairs to meet him on the upper level. He keeps his footsteps purposefully loud so Bruce can track him as he makes his way over, Danny's bag slung over his shoulder.
"Rough night?" he asks, just to get the conversation started.
"Yes," Bruce sighs. "There have been a number of—changes."
"Oh. Good changes or bad changes?"
Bruce lifts his head as he considers the question, then rubs his temple. "Unclear. It's nice to see everyone working together for Ellie, but I'm—concerned."
"About what?"
"About Ellie. And everyone. And Danny."
Duke leans his weight against the desk and lets the bag drop off his shoulder, then holds it out to Bruce. "Well. I dunno if this will make things any better, but Danny threw this at me while I was on patrol. I took a quick look through it and, uh. It's kinda rough. It's what he went through and how Ellie was created."
Bruce snatches the bag from his hand and immediately begins rooting through it. "Is Danny—?"
"He vanished as soon as I grabbed the bag. I think he's got a few loose ends to tie up before he feels comfortable being here again."
"What did you think of him?"
Duke looks at Bruce, looks at the papers in his hands, and thinks of Danny. "I think he needs someone in his corner. I think we gotta lot to do to make the world safer for him and Ellie. I think he's been scared for a very long time."
Nothing in Bruce's expression changes, and there's no shift in his aura, his emotions tightly locked up as always. But Duke hasn't gotten this far without learning how to see the little things: Bruce's grip on the bag tightens, his feet shift farther apart, as though he's ready to leap up at a moment's notice, and his shoulders slump just slightly under the heavy weight of all the things he refuses to share.
Sighing, Duke tilts his head to look at Bruce more closely. "Why are you down here? It's the middle of the day."
"I'm researching."
A hand loosely gesturing to the large screen of the Batcomputer has Duke turning to see what Bruce has been so occupied with.
It's not case files, as he expected. It's not even research into Danny and what happened to him.
All that's there is PDFs upon PDFs of child psychology papers and essays on recovering from trauma and research on various methods to help children with failure to thrive and malnutrition and neglect.
There's also, in one window, different safety ratings of baby cribs.
Well. Let it be known that Bruce's love language is information.
"Cool. Have you spent any time with anyone since a baby got dropped in your lap?"
Bruce's silence is extremely telling.
Duke briefly considers trying to get Bruce to go upstairs, but he knows better than to pick a losing battle. Especially after he's handed him information on Danny.
At some point, Bruce will have to go upstairs, if only to eat. He's getting old, and his body can't quite keep going like it used to. Duke will let him deal with the consequences of his own actions, or lack of action, when that time comes. He's not a mediator or peace-keeper. Duke has other pressing matters to attend to.
Taking pictures of the baby for Danny is definitely more important than navigating the minefield of family tensions and miscommunications ever present with the Waynes.
Duke reaches out and claps a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Don't get so caught up in getting all the pieces together that you forget to actually spend time with family. They're gonna need you now more than ever," he says, and waits until Bruce meets his eyes and gives a resolute nod before Duke stands and heads for the stairs that will take up him to the manor.
The sooner he gets back to Danny, the better.
Ellie is cute.
This isn't a surprise. Most babies are cute, and Ellie is no exception.
What Duke hadn't been expecting is how protective Damian is of her, or how everyone else orbits around the two, just on the edge of hovering. Damian's prickly personality is well known, so the rest of the Waynes have taken to acting like cats: always on the same floor, ready to pop in should they be needed, but otherwise out of sight.
"Thomas," Damian greets quietly. Ellie is asleep in the baby wrap keeping her secure against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. Damian lowers his paintbrush, turning to give Duke his full attention.
Duke takes a hesitant step into Damian's studio, then walks up to him once he isn't hissed at to leave.
"So this is our newest troublemaker, huh?" he says, looking down at Ellie. "How's she doing?"
She's so small. Her head has some black hair on it, but it barely covers her ears.
Damian lays his brush down on the easel. "She's doing much better now that she's getting regular meals and care. She still doesn't make much noise. It is… concerning."
The raw fear and care in his gaze is what makes the words tumble out of Duke's mouth. "I have some news about Danny."
If anyone deserves to know about him, it's his little brother.
Damian's gaze snaps up to Dukes, a fierce light in them, and his hands raise to hold Ellie tightly. "What is it?"
"He gave me a bag while I was patrolling, then left. I looked through it before giving it to B, and it's all… I only read the papers, not anything on the flashdrives, but Danny went through some awful shit. He was captured and experimented on by some group called NOVA. They had him for some time doing tests before he was put in isolation for acting out. And then he kinda… went into a death-like stasis. They did more tests and took some bio-material from him to try to figure out how he was surviving in stasis, and used that to make Ellie with the genes of one of the other captured metas. Danny was in stasis for around seven years."
Reading about it, learning about what Danny went through made Duke's stomach turn. It was like something out of a nightmare. Duke knows the fears metas have to live with; he carries it too, a weight he can never put down.
There's a reason civilian metas try to keep their powers a secret. Metas go for a high price on the black market, are at a higher risk of human trafficking, are seen as the best test subjects by unethical scientists wanting to find some way to replicate those powers in other people or in weapons.
Summarizing the horrors Danny had to experience leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. The silence in the studio stretches long enough for Duke to regret opening his mouth. Damian's still a teenager. He may have had a different upbringing and be able to stomach what most people can't, but this is still his brother. Anyone would be rattled hearing about this.
Then, without a word, Damian stands. He storms out of the studio, leaving Duke to catch the stool he was sitting on before it hits the ground and wakes Ellie.
When he goes to catch up with Damian, the kid is already walking into another room, tension in every line of his body.
"Richard," he snaps quietly, and Duke watches as Dick pops up from where he was lounging on the floor on one of the softest rugs in the manor.
"Dami? What's wrong?"
Damian doesn't answer, just unwraps the baby sling and carefully passes a still sleeping Ellie over to Dick.
"Damian," Dick tries again, his voice hardening, demanding an answer even as he adjust Ellie in his arms to make sure she can continue sleeping comfortably.
"I need to speak with Father," Damian answers shortly. "I will be gone for some time. I am entrusting her to you."
Dick glances at Duke, who tries not to look too stressed or tense. He doesn't think it works.
Reaching out, Dick puts a hand on Damian's head, managing to ruffle his hair for a few seconds before Damian steps away, batting at his hand with a scowl. "Alright," Dick says, "But I'm sending someone to get you for dinner if you're not back by then."
Damian nods, then turns on his heel and leaves for Bruce's office.
Neither of them move until they're sure that Damian is out of earshot.
"What was that about?" Dick asks, lowering himself down onto the rug again, one hand rubbing small circles against Ellie's back.
Duke sighs. "You'll find out soon. Just... chill for now and let me get some cute baby pictures."
Dick, as he finds out, is actually pretty good at helping Duke get the cutest pictures of Ellie.
And when Ellie blinks her little blue eyes open, Duke's heart melts and he understands how she's got everyone wrapped around her fingers.
NOVA, whatever remains of them, is going to regret ever hurting Danny and Ellie.
Danny is asleep when Duke returns. He sleeps through the night, and when Duke wakes up early the next morning to make sure he hasn't disappeared, Danny remains motionless in his bed.
Is he in stasis again? Duke wonders, panicked, as he rushes into his crash room and gently shakes Danny, trying to wake him up.
It takes a few tries before Danny lets out a soft noise in the back of his throat. He turns his face into the pillow, then abruptly tenses up and shoots out of bed. In a blink, Danny's on the other side of the room, flying up to the ceiling where Duke can't easily reach him.
Hands up, palms open, Duke says, "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. How're you feeling?"
Danny sucks in a few deep breaths before he slowly floats down to the floor. His eyes are still too wide and there's a faint tremble in his hands. "Fine," he answers blankly.
"Up for eating something? I did promise you food and baby pictures."
Unsurprisingly, it's the mention of Ellie that gets Danny moving and brings some light back to his eyes. He follows Duke out into the main room of the Hatch. There's not really a kitchen in here, but there is a fridge and a microwave, which is enough for now.
One of his workstations has been cleared off and now has chairs around it to turn it into a makeshift dining table. On it, Duke's left a tupperware of French toast, made the way he remembers his dad making them when he was a kid, and as well as a store-bought container of cut fruit.
It's not really a lot, but it's what he could do on a short notice.
Danny takes a seat, and Duke settles in on the other side of the table, pulling out his phone to flip through the many pictures he took of Ellie.
Duke keeps up a light commentary as Danny slowly eats, sharing little stories about the Waynes and all the nonsense they get up to. That turns into sharing stories about the stupid shit he and his friends gets into, followed by some of the weirdest things criminals have done to try to get away from him, including the one that said 'nuh-uh!' when Duke said carjacking is the lamest crime to commit in Gotham.
That story gets Danny to smile, and it takes way too much effort to keep from celebrating it.
All the while, Danny slowly looks through each photo of Ellie, making sure she's okay. He looks so fond and sad that it's breaking Duke's heart, and he swears to himself then and there that he's going to do whatever he can to reunite them.
"Don't you have hero things to do?" Danny asks. It's the first thing he's said since they both sat down.
Duke shrugs. "Nah, not right now. Gotham can wait. You're my priority right now."
"You don't have to—"
"Nope. If you don't want anyone else to know you're here, then you're gonna have to deal with me."
Danny squints at him. "You're both very chill and very stubborn."
"It's the only way I was able to survive working with the other Bats."
"They sound… interesting."
"You can say they're a hot mess," Duke laughs. "But hey, who isn't?" He watches as Danny pushes around the last half of the French toast around the tupperware and straightens up from where he was leaning on the table. "Want me to put that up for you? You can finish it later."
Danny looks down at his plate, then slowly nods. "Yeah. Sorry."
"No worries. You went through some shit. It's not surprising that you don't have much of an appetite." Duke reaches over the table to pop the lid back on the tupperware, then stands to put it in the fridge.
When he turns back, Danny is no longer visible.
Or, at least, his physical body isn't visible. Duke can still easily see his aura, a vibrant green that has streaks of white moving through it like a current of water, which leaves an outline of his body. Danny is also trying to sneak out of the Hatch.
"Oh," he says, "I didn't know you had invisibility. That's pretty cool. I can still see you, by the way."
Danny becomes visible again, glaring at Duke.
"That's such a Batman move," Duke grins, "I should have expected it."
"What was a Batman move?"
"Sneaking away as soon as I turned around. B does that all the time with the Commish. And everyone else, honestly. Though, to be fair, we all do it because we all learned from him. Yeah, you'll have no trouble fitting in with us."
"I don't think what I'm doing should count, since I'm using powers."
"Dude, watch this."
Duke makes sure Danny's looking at him, then bends the light around him to hide him from view. He can see the exact moment Danny realizes he's vanished when his eyes go wide and he takes a few steps closer.
"Signal?"
"Still here," Duke reassures. "Haven't moved an inch." Then he releases his grip on the light around his head, a fun little trick he figured out a few years ago that makes it look like he's a floating, decapitated head. The goons always love that one.
Danny looks at his head. Looks at his invisible body. Then looks back to his head. "That is freaky," he says, a slow smile dawning across his face. "I can do that too."
And sure enough, Danny's body becomes invisible, save for the outline of it in his aura, and now there's just two floating heads in the Hatch.
He's not sure who cracks first, but in no time, they're laughing like everything's alright. Danny's expression brightens and suddenly he's years younger, all the stress falling off his shoulders in the face of their mirth. Like this, he could be any other guy in one of Duke's classes, talking nonsense just to pass the time, quick to laugh and without a care in the world.
This is what he wants for Danny.
This ease, this calm, this lightness in his heart: Duke will keep them safe for Danny.
If nothing else, Duke can be a safe place to land for another meta who needs, more than anything, someone willing to be there for him.
(masterpost for all parts)
#dc x dp#dp x dc#demon brothers#the harmless series#dcxdp#dpxdc#dcxdp fic#my writing#can u tell i love duke#didnt mean to make this ghostlights flavored but i cant help myself theyre just too good#slowly building in more things... NOVA and dannys powers and bat dynamics.....#there is MUCH more to come i promise#this little series is a challenge to write as many povs as possible#there will be some repeats but im gonna try to keep that only to danny and damian
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When I was 24 I sat in a backstage dressing room in London, buzzing with anticipation. My backup singers and bandmates gathered around me in a scattered circle.Scissors emerged and I watched in the mirror as my locks of long curly hair fell in piles on the floor. There I was in my plaid button down shirt, grinning sheepishly as my tour mates and friends cheered on my haircut. This simple thing that everyone does. But I had a secret. For me. It was more than a change of hairstyle. When I was 24. I decided to completely reinvent myself.
How does a person reinvent herself, you ask? In any way I could think of. Musically, geographically, aesthetically, behaviorally, motivationally. And I did so joyfully. The curiosity I had felt the first murmurs of while making red had amplified into a pulsing heartbeat of restlessness in my bars. The risks I took when I toyed with pop sounds and sensibilities on red? I wanted to push it further. The sense of freedom I felt when traveling to big bustling cities? I wanted to live in one. The voices that had begun to shame me in new ways for dating like a normal young woman? I wanted to silence them.
You see, in the years preceding this, I had become the target of slut shaming, the intensity and relentlessness of which would be criticized and called out if it happened today. The jokes about my amount of boyfriends. The trivialization of my songwriting as if it were a predatory act of a boy crazy psychopath. The media co-signing of this narrative. I had to make it stop because it was starting to really hurt.
It became clear to me that for me there was no such thing as casual dating, or even having a male friend who you platonically hang out with. If I was seen with him, it was assumed I was sleeping with him. And so I swore off hanging out with guys, dating, flirting, or anything that could be weaponized against me by a culture that claimed to believe in liberating women but consistently treated me with the harsh moral codes of the Victorian era.
Being a consummate optimist, I assumed I could fix this if I simply changed my behavior. I swore off dating and decided to focus only on myself, my music, my growth. And my female friendships. If I only hung out with my female friends, people couldn't sensationalize or sexualize that, right? I would learn later on that people could and people would.
But none of that mattered then because I had a plan and I had a demeanor as trusting as a basket of golden retriever puppies. I had the keys to my own apartment in New York and I had new melodies bursting from my imagination. I had Max Martin and Shellback who were happy to help me explore this new sonic landscape I was enamored with. I had a new friend named Jack Antonoff who had made some cool tracks in his apartment. I had the idea that the album would be called 1989. And we would reference big 80's synths and write sky high choruses. I had sublime, inexplicable faith and I ran right toward it, in high heels and a crop top.
There was so much that I didn't know then, and looking back I see what a good thing that was. This time of my life was marked by right kind of naïveté, a hunger for adventure. And a sense of freedom I hadn't tasted before. It turns out that the cocktail of naïveté, hunger for adventure and freedom can lead to some nasty hangovers, metaphorically speaking. Of course everyone had something to say. But they always will. I learned lessons, paid prices, and tried to… don't say it don't say it. I'm sorry, I have to say it. Shake it off.
I’ll always be so incredibly grateful for how you loved and embraced this album. You, who followed my zig zag creative choices and cheered on my risks and experiments. You, who heard the wink and humor in "blank space" and maybe even empathized with the pain behind the satire. You, who saw the seeds of allyship and advocating for equality in "Welcome to New York". You, who knew that maybe a girl who surrounds herself with female friends in adulthood is making up for a lack of them in childhood (not starting a tyrannical hot girl cult). You, who saw that I reinvent myself for a million reasons, and that one of them is to try my very best to entertain you. You, who have had the grace to allow me the freedom to change.
I was born in 1989. Reinvented for the first time in 2014, and a part of me was reclaimed in 2023 with the re-release of this album I love so dearly.
Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine the magic you would sprinkle on my life for so long. This moment is a reflection of the woods we've wandered through and all this love between us still glowing in the darkest dark.
I present to you, with gratitude and wild wonder, my version of 1989.
It’s been waiting for you.
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The God and The Devil
Just a little folk-gothic about loneliness, the countryside, and keeping a cat. For the spooky season! 1.8k words ^_^ (Copyright Bóín Day 2024)
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There's a fire in the garden. Again.
I step outside, careful to close the sliding glass door behind me so Cock Robin can't get out. He prowls the length of the glass with performative indifference, pretending he only follows so far to rub his whiskers against the doorframe. Pretending not to notice the orange flames spitting up into the blue-dark twilight sky.
I take the watering can, already full, from the patio and walk to the center of the garden, where the effigy burns. It is bigger than the last one. About as tall as my knee. I douse it before it catches in the dry summer grass.
Our cottage is in the middle of County Leitrim. In that typical part of Leitrim where nothing really is. I bought it because I could afford it, derelict and rotting as it was, surrounded by a sea of disused fields, twenty kilometers from the nearest shop. It still cost more than my parents' first home; a restored Victorian townhouse purchased in the eighties. I do what I can with the cottage. Funnel all my earnings into making it habitable. Close off the rooms that drive me into despair. I think I got Cock Robin because I was lonely. Or because he was lonely. I can't remember which.
I remember I found him quite endearing at the shelter, though. He is a peculiar shade of brown for a cat – almost chocolatey – with a striking ginger breast by contrast. His eyes are yellow, and suspicious. He's large and fat, and maligned by a snaggletooth that gives him a permanent sneer. Despite his unfortunate face, he is docile, cuddly, and a formidable companion. I don't blame him completely for what's happened, though he must think I do. Why else would he be confined to the house, he thinks. Why else would his dear mother jail him.
Cock Robin, for all his lazy mornings and babyish ways, is a talented and voracious hunter. I never exactly approved of him catching mice, but I suppose I tacitly endorsed it by allowing him outside, into the fields where he was undoubtedly the apex predator. At first I would only find pieces of the mice: a half body, a dismembered foot, an internal organ licked clean of blood.
But as Cock Robin acclimatised to the good life of being a kept cat, and gradually grew rounder from tinned tuna and cold cuts of chicken, he must have grown bored with the taste of mice. Because more and more often, he would bring them home alive.
He would bring them home alive, and with them stunned and confused between his careful teeth, he would howl for my attention. Once I would rise from whatever task I was at, he would wait for me to approach, present his quarry, and kill it in front of me. People say this is a cat's way of teaching hapless humans how to hunt, and perhaps they are right. But from the way Cock Robin would proudly deposit the poor creature on the step, whole but for the killing wounds, and bounce along to the cupboard where he knows I keep his treats, I think this ritual is more akin to a crude, kitty capitalism.
'I have rendered you the service for which our two species coexist,' Cock Robin says with his closed eyes and loud purr. 'Now I shall collect my fee.'
I don't like to watch things die. Even spiders, which I hate, I can't bring myself to kill. Even indoor plants, which are a chore to keep, I endeavour to save from my own habitual neglect. And now even mice, already trapped in the jaws of death, I am compelled by my conscience to rescue. Cock Robin objects to my charity, but he is stupid enough to trust my approach whenever he has some poor living thing in his maw, and once I am close enough, I grab him. Sometimes he drops them instinctively when he hears my stern demands, and sometimes I must pry his mouth open, but he always gives up without much fight.
The difficulty then is re-catching the mouse. I keep gardening gloves by the sliding door for this task, now. If they are sufficiently traumatized, I can simply scoop them up, walk to one of the neighbouring fields, and gently release them into the long grass. If they are lucid, though, they jump away; run, climb, scramble for their life. Those times are harder – especially if Cock Robin is still in the room. But I always catch them. Once they're out of his teeth, I find a way to cup them, grab them, cradle them. Out they go to the fields. Alive to survive another day.
I must have caught at least a dozen mice when the first gift appeared. I didn't know it was a gift then, of course. It was four raspberries, piled together on the doormat. I'm sure I thought it was odd at the time, but I simply picked them up and set them on a fence-post for the birds.
A few days later there were twenty raspberries. A whole punnet's worth. I certainly thought that was odd, and it ignited some paranoia in me. There are no other houses in sight of my cottage, only fields. Not even cattle graze there, so there is little cause for anyone to come out as far as my place on the quiet country road. I fretted about axe wielding maniacs, countryside bandits, the sort of nightmarish characters you might hear about on a True Crime podcast. Of course, as far as threats go, raspberries are a tame and obscure one. Hardly worth calling the Gards over. I think I mentioned it to some friends, and they laughed like I was crazy. I think I laughed too. I didn't want to be crazy.
The raspberries continued to appear for weeks, sometimes with a whole apple rolled into the mix, sometimes ornately arranged among picked daisies and buttercups. I tried to ignore them. Hoped if they rotted on the step, that would send a message. But the damaged, old raspberries were removed in the night, and replenished with fresh ones by morning.
At a certain point, I decided it was best to just wait up. I drank three cups of coffee and, with heart pounding and carving knife in hand, sat in the perfect dark of my kitchen, and waited.
It was just before dawn when I saw them. I'd imagined every manner of strange or dangerous person, - I'd spent the night staring at the middle of the glass door, the height you would expect a person to stand - and so I almost missed them. The tiny, moving bumps of darkness scuttling along the ground towards the door. It looked like the patio stones had come to life, and were rippling towards the cottage in little waves.
I stood and approached. Quite a stupid thing to do, in retrospect, but I did it anyway. I could see them in their droves: hundreds of mice removing the old, imperfect fruit and rolling in the new. Some of them carried the flowers in teams of two or three. I crouched slowly by the glass door, enraptured by their industrious energy. By the sophistication of the endeavour.
One of them must have noticed me, and the noticing spread, because almost instantly the bustling and bumbling little bodies went still. I went still as well. It was relatively dark out, the sky just lightening to a gloomy blue, but I could tell they were looking at me. Then, in another wave of collective movement, their bodies stretched upward – stretched towards the heavens, tiny front paws raised above their mousey heads – and then fell down again. Prostrating themselves on the ground.
I watched the motion repeat several times, paws stretching skyward, then falling back down, before I realised I was watching some strange, cultish worship. They were bowing to me. They were bowing to me.
I ran away, as any rational person would. I closed myself into my bedroom with Cock Robin, who was sleeping none the wiser. And I thought about how truly impossible it is to keep a mouse out of your home, if the mouse has a mind to get in.
It was the following week that Cock Robin was attacked. He came in from the fields, mewling in a pitiful manner I'd never heard from him before. There was a piece of wood lodged in his right eye, about as big as a toothpick. I rushed him to the vet. They couldn't save the eye. An unfortunate accident, they supposed. A mishap while Cock Robin was climbing through a hedge. We agreed he ought to be an indoor cat from then on.
Now they've taken a liking to effigies.
I kick through the smoldering remains of this latest one. Their understanding of human proportions has certainly improved. I see they've stitched leaves together with plant fiber and bug silk to simulate clothing. I wonder how they learned to light the wood. I wonder if this is what we looked like, too, when man discovered fire.
I look up the length of the garden to my rotten little cottage. Cock Robin is sitting politely behind the glass door, watching me through his surviving eye, tail ticking away in simmering upset. He wants to be out here, I know. He wants to exercise his divine wrath.
I wonder, as well, how they make sense of us. It seems impossible to me, that they cannot know how dearly I love Cock Robin. How I infinitely prefer him to any little mouse, no matter what mercy my conscience mandates. How he sleeps beside me, inside the cottage that is so alien and fortified compared to the world of empty fields around it. I suppose it is a contradiction inherent, that they should give me tribute while reviling the cat I openly adore.
I suppose that even God adored Lucifer, once.
I stomp out the last of the embers and wriggle my phone out of my pocket. I've been photographing these things, for posterity – not that anyone would believe them. It would be written off as some natural phenomenon, or AI fakery, or perhaps they'd simply say I'm lying. I photograph it anyway.
Trudging back towards my cottage, I turn on the phone's flashlight. This is a newly formed habit. I hold the light above my head and sweep it over the neighbouring field, in an arc. Tiny pinpricks of light glow back at me. An ocean of beady eyes, watching in the darkness.
I shout at them to go away, please. I say that I have nothing for them, and thank them for their worship but I'd really rather they just move on. There's no response. There never is. They cannot understand my prayers. I am too huge and powerful to be understood. But still, I pray.
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